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thechangeling · 3 years

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She burns like rum on a fire

Why did I do this to myself ughhhhh?

So @adoravel-fenomeno and I were talking about Kit potentially getting into an abusive relationship given that he's statistically likely too given his roots. So now I give you this fic! Sorry. Kit is using he/him in this fic because he hasn't really gone on his gender quest yet.

The title is from Cherry Wine by Hozier. I reccomend you listen to Cherry Wine and Trauma by NF while reading this.

Cw: Mentions of physical and verbal abuse, abusive, controlling behavior, negative self talk and extreme denial. Also brief mention of blood.

2013

Don't cry.

Don't cry Kit told himself over and over inside his head as he tried to get a hold of his breathing. As he lay on his bed at 2 in the morning, desperately refreshing his conversation with Autumn.

Autumn or as his best friend Janessa liked to call her "the virus" was Kit's girlfriend. His very first. A mundane with the sight. They had been dating for a few months now. When they had first gotten together everything was amazing, it so it seemed.

They had some much in common and they had fun together. Autumn was hot, funny and charasmatic. She had this way of making him feel like the only person in the room. She showered him with gifts and complements that made Kit finally feel worthy for the first time in his life.

But as time went on things shifted. Autumn insisted on spending almost ever waking second with him. Kit didn't mind at first, he loved hanging out with her. But he missed his parents and his sister, and he knew they missed him too. Whenever they had family movie night, or they wanted Kit to watch Mina, Autumn threw a fit. She insisted that he was ignoring her.

She didn't want him seeing Janessa either, or Nessie as Kit called her for short. Autumn always insisted that she was plotting to steal Kit away from her, which was ridiculous but nothing could change Autumn's mind when she was in a mood. So Kit had found himself blowing Nessie off to hang out with Autumn and making excuses for it.

Kit always felt super guilty for making Autumn so upset. He tried to get out of his agreements if it to stop her from crying but sometimes Tessa and Jem wouldn't let him. It was frustrating when they didn't understand. She would rage for awhile, calling Kit stupid and worthless. Sometimes she would make comments about him being adopted, telling him that Tessa and Jem didn't really love him and they only saw him as a free babysitter for their real child.

She would make jokes about all kinds of things. How Kit wasn't a real shadowhunter, his weight, his past, his bisexuality, his ADHD. Kit knew that Autimn didn't really mean anything by it. It was nothing personal and she didn't really mean it. She loved him. And he loved her.

Tonight had been different though. His grades had taken a turn for the worst because he had been blowing of the tutoring sessions the school had payed for as a part of his accommodations. Because he had been spending that time with Autumn. Kit knew it was a bad idea to miss those, but his girlfriend needed him. She didn't have anybody else. She couldn't count on her parents like he could, and she didn't really have any friends.

But Kit was in big trouble. Tessa and Jem were mad. The school was mad. People were saying that Kit was ungrateful.

Ah yes because every disabled person should just bend down and kiss the feet of every person that deigns to give them what they're legally entitled to.

But Kit knew that he had really screwed up this time. He tried to explain to Autumn that he couldn't see her as often as he used to anymore because he needed to fix his grades. And she absolutely lost it. Which he had been expecting.

However what Kit hadn't been expecting this time was for her to hit him.

And she hit him hard. Punched him straight in the nose. And sure it wasn't that big of a deal. Kit was a shadowhunter and he was pretty much used to being hit. But he hadn't been expecting it.

And there was just so much blood.

Autumn of course instantly apologized profusely. She kissed him over and over and told him that she loved him and she didn't mean to. And Kit knew she was telling the truth but-

But he still felt a sinking feeling in his chest that he couldn't explain.

But Kit had applied an iratze, wiped off the blood, and now everything was as good as new. When he had arrived back home, his parents had noticed anything or asked him any questions.

Now he was lying awake at 2 in the morning, filled with guilt and worry as he waited for Autumn to text him back. He gnawed on his bottom lip anxiously as he tried not to over think things.

Maybe she was still mad at him? Was there something else Kit was supposed to say or do? Or maybe he should just leave her alone for awhile?

It was maddening.

Kit turned off his phone and threw it down in frustration, pulling his giant red and black flannel over his shoulders and curling in on himself. He felt strangely exhausted, but unable to sleep. His nose and left eye socket still throbbed a little despite the fact that they should be healed.

Kit thought about using another iratze but his steele was across the room and he couldn't bring himself to stand up to go get it.

God he really was pathetic. Maybe he deserved this. Tears welled up in Kit's eyes.

Don't cry. Don't cry.

This time Kit couldn't hold it back. So he let himself cry. Tears came streaming down his cheeks as he tried to muffle his sobs with his hand. Deep down he knew it was his fault. It was always his fault.

But with Autumn he had really tried. Sure he wasn't perfect but Kit really cared about her. And it wasn't good enough. He wasn't good enough.

Kit couldn't help but think of the last time he felt like this. The last time he was rejected. He had been careful about trying to keep all thoughts of Ty Blackthorn out of his head for awhile. Autumn was a good distraction, even when she was screaming obscenities at him. It was still a distraction.

Kit closed his eyes and conjured the memory of holding Ty up on the roof. If he squeezed his eyes tightly enough, Kit could still feel the softness of his hoodie and the slight tickle of Ty's dark hair against his skin. He could conjure the smell of Ty's skin and the way he had trembled slightly against Kit's body.

I should have kissed him. Kit mused, hugging himself tightly. Just once. Even if Ty had pushed him away in disgust, it would have been worth it. Just to know what it felt like.

Suddenly from the bottom of the bed, Kit's phone lit up with a call. He scrambled to grab it, thinking it was Autumn, but it was actually Janessa. Kit cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound normal as he answered the phone.

"Why are you calling me at 2 am Nessie?"

"The better question is why are you still awake at 2 am," she pointed out, sounding smug. "I'm a vampire. Creature of the night remember? It's kinda prime time for me Kit Kat."

Kit smiled as he felt the previous angst wash away. "Yeah fair enough. But still, why are you calling me?"

Kit heard her sigh into the phone. "Well honestly because this is probably the only time you're free now a days," she said spitefully. "You know thanks to she-who-must-not-be-named." Kit rolled his eyes.

"That's my girlfriend you're talking about, Janessa!" He snapped.

"Well your girlfriend's a total bitch!"

Normally Kit would argue with her and tell her that she was way off base. That Autumn wasn't so bad and that she was trying. That she loved him. But today he just couldn't.

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "We got into another fight tonight," he admitted. "Just a few hours ago actually."

"I'm sorry love," Janessa murmed. Nessie wasn't British. She was actually Canadian. But she had moved around the world with her previous band before settling in Devon and leaving them to go solo. She had picked up on some British expressions though.

"I wish you weren't going through this. But Kit, you gotta break up with her! She's bad news!"

Kit rested his face against the palm of his left hand. "I can't," he groaned.

Janessa let out a frustrated yell on the other end of the phone. "What the hell are you planning on doing Kit!? I mean are you just gonna wait into she hits you or what?" She spat.

"She already did," Kit responded instantly without missing a beat.

He gasped and slapped a hand to cover his mouth. Kit had no idea why he actually told her. Impulsivity maybe? Or maybe he just needed to get it out. But he instantly regretted it.

There was a long uncomfortable silence on the other end of the phone. Kit was just about to ask Janessa where she went when suddenly she spoke.

"I'm coming over."

Kit tried to protest but she hung up on him.

Before he had time to panic or scream or throw something, there was an aggressive tapping on his window. Of course. Janessa had vampire speed. He looked up to see Nessie perched on his windowsill looking solem.

Her long black curly hair was pulled into a high ponytail and she wore what by her standards was probably a casual outfit. A black long sleeved low cut crop top and white ripped skinny jeans tucked into thigh high heeled leather boots. And of course, she wore a full face of makeup. Even after the facial feminization surgery she was still a little insecure about going out without makeup on.

Nessie banged on his window again, more impatiently and Kit jumped up to let her in. She landed on his bedroom floor with the grace of a cat, making no sound. She stared at him silently with an expression that Kit found hard to decipher.

"Show me where," she whispered in that deep raspy voice of hers. She reached for his face and Kit let Janessa cradle his face with her hands and tried not to wince as her cold skin came into contact with his.

He shook his head. "No you won't see it, I put an iratze on it already. It's done." Janessa scoffed and stepped back.

"You know the damage isn't just skin deep Kit," she said pointedly. "No matter how much you want to pretend it is."

He glared at her. "Wow that's so insightful Nessie!," he said sarcastically. "What else you got?"

"Oh come on Kit you know I'm right," She hissed. "You have to end it!"

Kit shook his head. Why does she keep saying that?

"No. Why should I?" Kit retorted. "She loves me." He tried to sound as confident as he could, but truthfully he wasn't so sure anymore.

Autumn had gone above and beyond to make Kit feel loved and appreciated yo the point where she was almost obsessive. But she could also be cruel and spiteful. Kit had convinced himself that he should be happy with what he had because it was as good as he was gonna get.

And the sad part was that was still true.

"No she doesn't," Janessa breathed desperately. To Kit's horror, it looked like she was about to cry. Kit couldn't remember if he had ever seen her cry. Not once.

"Somebody who really loved you could never hurt you like that!" She protested shakily, her voice warbled as tears spilled down her face.

Kit could feel his tears returning at the sight of Nessie crying. He rushed towards her and pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her neck. In the comfort of his best friend's embeace he allowed himself to finally sob. He cried for that broken niave part of himself that kept getting hurt.

She rested her chin on the top of his head, (she was taller then him,) and held him close. "Please promise me you will break up with her," Janessa begged.

"I just don't get it," Kit whispered against her skin. "I did everything right. I did everything I could." He blinked back tears. "Why doesn't she love me Nessie?"

He felt her shake against him. "I don't know Kit," she sobbed. "But I love you ok? I love you and your parents love you, and Mina loves you so much!"

Kit sighed, pulling back to wipe his tears. "I know, but what if I, you know-. What if I never find someone? Like romantically?"

Janessa studied him, raising her eyebrow. "Well do you need to find someone? Who is this arbitrary someone who can give you something a friendship can't?"

That's actually a good point.

"I mean," Nessie continued, crossing her arms and shifting her weight. "If you do end up in a relationship then cool, it's whatever. But the way I see it is you shouldn't focus all of your energy on looking because you're gonna end up missing out on some pretty cool stuff in the mean time." She smiled.

Kit thought about it. He knew logically Janessa had a point. But he just couldn't feel it. He was too depressed and defeated. And as ashamed as it made him, Kit still missed Autumn. He tried to smile along with Nessie but it must have looked weak because she looked concerned.

"Hey," she cooed, reaching for him.

"Can you sing to me Nessie?" He asked. Kit felt a little pathetic but hopefully she wouldn't judge him.

She smiled lovingly at him. "Sure." Janessa took his hand and led him to his bed.

"Any requests?" She asked as she pulled off her boots and lay down on Kit's bed. He followed her, snuggling up against Nessie with his back to her.

"No not really," he murmered, closing his eyes. Kit was finally starting to feel how exhausted he really was.

Janessa wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, resting her head slightly against his shoulder. "Ok," she whispered very softly.

Kit heard her clear her throat softly before the sound of her breathy angelic alto filled his ears.

"I'm turning out the lights, to remember how to see. Till the renaissance takes place, Until a renaissance takes place, and resuscitates the color of paint and divinity."

Kit smiled sleepily at the sound of his enneagram song, something Janessa had introduced him to.

He yawned and let the sound of Nessie's voice lull him to sleep, putting all thoughts of Autumn behind him.

In my head Kit is like 5'4 and Janessa is 5'9. Originally I had her at 5'11 but I wanted her to be closer in height to Kit. Also did I name Kit's abusive girlfriend Autumn after my toxic controlling ex best friend? You bet I did!

Tag list: (you know the deal) @playwithravenclaw @lavender-scented-rat @jazzkaurtheglorious @waterlillies @nott-the-best @stxr-thxif @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @foxglove-airmid @littlx-songbxrd @clarys-heosphoros @queenlilith43 @arangiajoan @hardlymatters @the-wckd-powers @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @adoravel-fenomeno

#tsc #tda #twp #the dark artifices #kit herondale #fae's oc #the wicked powers #janessa williams #platonic soulmates for the win

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matthewfairchildfanclub · 4 years

Conversation

TSC except it's incorrect quotes and it's part 2 and it's really fucking long sorry.

Cordelia: I like your top.

James, wearing a very bright shirt: Thank-

Matthew: Thanks dude, I like you to.

Anna: Gender is a game and I have the cheat codes.

Clary, at Starbucks: Can I get a venti caramel macchiato with, uh... seven shots of espresso.

Simon, behind her: Jesus Christ, Clary, just do cocaine.

James: If you were to die, what would be your last words?

Matthew: Finally.

James: No-

Izzy, on the phone with Magnus: Is it okay if I bring my weird roommate?

Simon: Would you please stop calling me that.

Clary: You sure you're sober enough to drive?

Jace: Yeah, I didn't drink anything.

Clary: Okay, go get the car.

Alec: [running after Jace]

Clary: It's okay, he's sober!

Alec: HE DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO DRIVE!

Will: Jem, you have beautiful eyes.

Jem: You too.

Tessa: ...

Tessa: Did I miss something?

Will: I'm straight, I just like his eyes.

Tessa: You're gay for his eyes.

Will: Exactly!

Will: Wait, no

Lucie, walking out in a new outfit: How do I look?

Matthew: Holy shit, that's the ugliest thing I've ever seen.

Lucie: Excuse you?!

Matthew: No, not you, the thing sitting beside you.

Alastair: Fuck you.

Magnus: You sure know a lot about the law.

Julian: I do a lot of borderline illegal shit.

Cordelia: Lucie! Don't let go!

Lucie, dangling from the side of the cliff: WHY THE FUCK WOULD I LET GO?!

Kit: I think I forgot to sleep because I was looking at memes.

Dru: If you ever wonder why you have no friends, just remember that sentence.

Christopher: Oh, tiddlywinks.

Matthew: JUST SAY FUCK

Will: Swear words are banned in this house, if you say one you'll be grounded.

Matthew: Heck.

Will: You're on thin fucking ice, kid.

Jace: You may not know this, Alec, but I'm a flawed person.

Alec: I do know that.

Dru: [reading the exorcist]

Dru: [laughs]

Matthew: I know you can be "underwhelmed" and you can be "overwhelmed" but...

Matthew: Can you ever just be whelmed?

James: ...

Christopher: I think you can in Bulgaria!

James: I think I'm in love with Cordelia.

Grace: Congratulations! You're officially the last one to know.

Tessa: James, what are you doing here? Weren't you making spaghetti tacos with Mattew, Christopher, and Thomas?

James: Well, I was.

Tessa: ... was?

James: Well, I- it was just getting hot downstairs because of the fire.

Tessa: THE WHAT?!

(Downstairs the kitchen is completely on fire)

Christoper, looking around while Matthew and Thomas try to put the fire out with olive oil: Oh, this isn't good.

Jace: Please shut up.

Simon: Well, since you asked nicely, no.

Will: No pain, no gain!

Matthew: But I'm in constant pain and I've lost everything-

Matthew: If you'll excuse me, I must attend to my evening affairs.

James: You mean drinking wine and eating gummy bears until you pass out on a chaise?

Cordelia: Or reading Layla and Majnun and crying in the bath because they didn't deserve it?

Lucie: Or shouting your own poetry from your balcony?

Matthew: All three, in that order.

Will: What have I told you about comparing Tatiana to the devil?

Lucie: ... that it's offensive to the devil?

Jamie: These people are my friends!

Jamie: I've known them for twelve hours!

Clary: What are we gonna do?

Simon: Don't worry, you're so small they probably won't see you.

Clary: Simon, is this really the time to be making short jokes?

Simon: Clary, it's never not the time, because just like you, life is short.

Matthew, drunk: Always strive to eat the stars.

Lucie, half asleep: Aren't they too hot?

Matthew: Blow on them first, idiot.

Cashier: Would you like your check?

Ty: If someone is being murdered right now it would be my alibi, but if someone gets murdered in the store they could pin it on me.

Cashier: Sir?

Ty: I want to speak to a lawyer.

Magnus: If you had to choose between Jace and all the money I have in my pocket, which would you choose.

Alec: Depends. How much money are we talking about?

Jace: Alec????

Magnus: Eleven cents.

Alec: Sold.

Jace: ALEC?!!??!?!

Alastair: Cursing is for those who have a limited vocabulary.

Matthew: You are an audacious, ideologically unsound, captious, presumptuous, motherfucker.

Clary: Hey, uh, maybe we need Simon's help with this one?

Jace: I would literally rather die.

Cristina: Name a way to be nice to people.

Kieran: Don't stab them.

Cristina: ...

Cristina: Setting the bar a little low but I'll allow it.

Tessa: Where have you been?

Will: Emotional hell.

Kit: I made you all of you into Sims, look.

Jace: Where are you?

Kit: I'm in the grave in the backyard.

Jace:

Clary:

Jace: Put me there to.

Clary: Oh my god-

Emma: I have the sharpest memory, name one time I forgot something.

Zara: You forgot me in a Walmart parking lot, like, three weeks ago.

Emma: I did that on purpose, try again.

Matthew: Will, did you know "thot" means "thoughtful person."

Will: Really? I did not know this modern slang.

(later)

Will: Thank you for helping me with the stables, Tessa, you're such a thot.

Tessa, wheezing: I'm a WHAT?

Julian: [choking]

Kit: I'm trying to call 911 but the 9 button isn't working!

Dru: Just flip your phone upside down and use the 6.

Julian, stopping his choking for a second: What the fu-

Emma, getting in the front seat: Alright, is everyone ready to go?

The Blackthorns: Yep!

Emma: Okay, let's go.

(looks into the mirror to see Zara running after the van)

Emma: [whispers to herself] Goodbye you little shit.

Cordelia: What the hell is going on??

Matthew: Oh, great, you heard my cry for help.

Cordelia: You mean your girly scream?

Matthew: I MEAN MY CRY FOR HELP

James: The risk I took was calculated.

James: But holy shit am I bad at math.

Izzy and Magnus: [getting arrested at a protest]

Cop: Fake ID's, fake credit card. Got anything on you that's real?

Izzy: My tits.

Magnus: My ass.

[in a group chat]

Dru: Adding "lmao" does not hide your pain.

Kit: Yeah it does lmao.

Matthew: Excuse me, who made James the boss of the group.

Christopher: You did.

Thomas: You said, "James should be the boss".

Lucie: And then you said, "lets vote," and it was unanimous.

Cordelia: And then you made him a plaque that says, "Boss Of Us".

Anna: And put little sparkles all over it.

Matthew: ... All valid points.

Matthew: And once again, James and Matthew save the day.

Lucie: You didn't do anything.

Thomas: It was all James.

Matthew: We're a package deal. Everyone knows that.

Jem: I am not "too nice"!

Will: Jem, you apologized-

Jem: I have manners!

Will: -to the waiter who spilled soup on your lap.

Kit: You wanna see how hardcore I am?

Kit: [punches a wall]

Kit: Take me to the hospital.

Julian: People ask me how I handle the rest of my family so easily.

Julian: The truth is, I don't.

Julian: I have no control over them.

Julian: I walked into the house today and Mark shot me in the neck with a nerf gun.

(At a New Years Eve party)

Alec, to the TMI gang: I would like to make a toast!

Alec, raising his glass: I cannot believe we have gone through another twelve months of absolute fuckery.

Alec: Cheers!

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beclynn-herondale · 3 years

Text

Inside TMI Gang's diaries part 5 1/2

(long post)

Clary: Dear diary, so the Clave didn't end up punishing me because I didn't technically break any rules when I brought Jace back, but some peeps are staring at me still and like bish you're making me uncomfortable, also I don't know where Jace is and I feel this deep emptiness without him. I decided I am gonna ask the Seelie Queen for help, and no brain you ain't stopping me k, Alec and Izzy will be with me on this and Simon. Also just wait Sebastian just wait, I am gonna show you who to truly be afraid of. But first coffee

*Later*

So shit happened, I went to the Seelie Queen and she asked me to steal these rings, but like I was like no, but I decided to take them for myself, anyway I saw Jace and Sebastian, and Jace looked completely fine, he looked happy, like nothing is even bothering him, and then i said I didn't get the rings, like a lier, and that night Jace broke into my bedroom and we kinda kissed, and I found out he is basically a puppet for Sebastian, and if you hurt or kill Sebastian you hurt or kill Jace, and just whatever life whatever, also Sebastian stabbed Luke and now Luke may die, my mom is taking us to Magnus' and now that we are here he called it saint Magnus' for wayword Shadowhunters, and me and my mom got into a fight, she said stuff about Jace and like that's the thing I am sensitive about, so I decided to tell Simon to meet me and I shall run away and save Jace, I am always gonna be the knight and him the Damsel. Also Simon is the best friend, now I gotta go kill my brother. Need some coffee first.

Possessed Jace: Dear diary, all is well in the day of being evil and running around with Sebastian, he is alright, anyway we are off to cause chaos, I want to try and take Clary with us tho. Also I am not sure but something weird may have happened between me and Sebastian the other night, I can't remember exactly, but it was weird.

*Later*

We broke into Clary's house and I tried to take her with us but Sebastian had to be unpleasant, he may be hungry, he gets hangry when he doesn't eat enough, I plan on coming back for Clary though, oh also Luke got hurt, that one feels bad. Oh and Clary did come back and she is with us now, I love her. Oh also Sebastian and me have gotten up to some stuff, he is a genius, and he is so evil, I love it.

Jace: I am gonna murder him, this bish is so stupid, oh shit wait is this me again? I feel like I am banging on a wall. Who says love that much?

Alec: Dear diary, a lot has happened, Jace is still kidnapped and the Clave didn't end up punishing Clary, thank the angel. I am sneaking behind Magnus' back and I hate it but what else am I supposed to do?, Clary wants to meet with the Seelie Queen and I have a bad feeling about it, she isn't trustworthy, but I guess we have no choice cause the Clave won't help much anymore. Izzy is ready to fight anyone. Magnus is still not sharing much and is avoiding topics, and he doesn't know about Camille. But Camille is the worst, how could Magnus ever have dated her, he's so good and hot, and kind and sexy, he's also giving and attractive, he's beautiful and has a beautiful soul.

*Later*

Still sneaking around, still hate being around Camille. Jace apparently was at the Institute with Sebastian and they were acting like buddies, Jace is my parabatai, Sebastian you little shit. And then Jace and Sebastian went to Clary's house and attacked so now Clary is here at Magnus' and so is Jocelyn. Life keeps getting weirder, and everything is going to hell, if Jace were here, he'd have a way to lighten the mood.

Magnus: Dear diary, breathe Magnus, breathe, thankfully Biscuit is fine, Blondie is still kidnapped. Izzy and Simon have tension between them and I want nothing to do with that drama, I know.i usually like drama but Shadowhunter drama is a mess. Camille is god knows where, probably being evil. Sebastian is still on the loose, probably being evil as well, no definitely being evil. Alec has been distant lately. Chairman Meow is a comfort as always. I am trying to track down blondie, but I have had no luck, Sebastian is good I'll give him that. The Clave is a pain in my ass as usual. And the Seelie Queen is a raging bish, some things never change.

*Later*

So. . . Apparently Sebastian and blondie were at the Institute and after that attacked Clary and Jocelyn in their house, Luke was injured and hopefully will be okay. As always, Saint Magnus' is where Jocelyn and Clary went to, I am like the safe haven for wayword Shadowhunters. Clary and Jocelyn just got into a fight, Mother and Daughter drama is never one you want to get into the middle of but Biscuit isn't necessarily in the wrong here. But I don't want people to explode on me and Jocelyn would so. . . Anyway, I suspect Izzy will be here soon and maybe Simon. Hopefully we'll figure out where Jace is somehow, everyone is miserable and I never noticed how much of a light he actually was until he was gone, and yes I am surprised by those words myself.

Izzy: Dear diary, life is only chaos and a mess as usual, I can't get Simon out of my head and I don't know why, I have never been this way with someone before, ahhhhhhhhh. Anyway the Clave didn't punish Clary so that's good, I would have fought them if they had tried anything. Jace is still missing and we still have no idea where he is, the Clave is deciding he isn't a priority anymore, and if not for me wanting to play it cool I would have thrown some unkind words, but I am also not surprised. But we'll find Jace and save him, I won't accept anything else, there is no way in hell I am losing another brother.

*Later*

Clary saw Jace and Sebastian at the Institute and then apparently they broke in her house, and tried to take her, and Clary says Jace wasn't Jace, that he believed Sebastian was right and I swear whatever Sebastian did to my bro, he is gonna pay for. Still can't stop thinking about Simon and I want to punch a tree, Jace would have said "What did the tree ever do to you" I miss that weirdo, I am heading over the Magnus' cause that's where Clary and Jocelyn are, Luke got hurt bad, hopefully things will be alright. Also Simon wasn't at his and Jordan's apartment, I got a little drunk and may have spilled some stuff to Jordan and I regret it. Anyway I am gonna try to get ahold of Simon and ask him to come, there's something about him that comforts me.

Simon: Dear diary, life as a teenager has been so hard, as usual, being a vampire still kinda sucks, my mom hates me, Jace is still missing, Clary and Izzy are both wrecks, and I just want a chiller times. There's something between Jordan and Maia but I be staying away, I have no idea what me and Izzy are relationship wise, Clary thankfully didn't get in trouble with the Clave. Sebastian is creepy af. I think I am gonna listen to mcr and be angst.

*Later*

Shit got very real again, apparently Jace and Sebastian attacked Clary at her house and Luke was hurt, also apparently you can't hurt or kill Sebastian with hurting or killing Jace, that's just amazing isn't it. Clary and Jocelyn are at Magnus', - although Clary isn't anymore, in fact she is right in front of me telling me her crazy plan to go after Jace, Jocelyn is gonna go mama bear on me, but I can't stop Clary that's never been an option with her, apparently we are gonna keep in contact with the faerie rings Clary secretly stole, it keeps getting worse, this is all gonna be bad. And to top it off I am ignoring Becky and she is gonna come after me if I don't respond soon, but how can I when there's so much. - later, Izzy wants me at Magnus' and I still don't know what we are, but I'll always be there for her, if she lets me.

Sebastian: Dear evil diary, I have to say I have been having a lot of fun, Jace thinks something weird happened between us the others night, and something did but he'll never know what ;), I plan to kidnap my sister and take her with us no matter what it takes, me and Jace have plans, evil plans. We are at the Institute for something, and after that when night comes we plan to find my sister, I know Jace won't do anything without her, she's the only thing that keeps him not fully in my control. Anyway I am to do evil.

*Later*

We broke into Clary's house and she was mad, like I thought you'd be happy to see your boyfriend who has been missing, little sister. But apparently not? And I tried to kill that werewolf but he may survive. Mother will pay. Jace says he's sure Clary will come, honestly his love and trust in her is strange and I do not understand it, father would be disgusted, but I need Jace and I want Clary as well, so I'll do what it takes. Evil is out.

Church: Dear cat diary, I am so fucking done, you have no idea how done I am, Herondale and Fairchild did stuff in the past that led to Herondale getting possessed. Jem you would know what to do, please save me. Herondale is probably gonna have something tragic again *sigh*, Fairchild isn't gonna sit by and do nothing, it isn't in her blood. Lightwood 1 is off and I don't know what it is but he has something, Lightwood 2 may well explode as and I wouldn't want to be in the middle of that, tho I would like to see her go off on the Clave *cat grins*, Sebastian is another evil guy, why do I bother to learn their names? Jem if you were here, Simon is idk, he is doing something, Magnus is Magnus, and I may try and visit Chairman Meow, seeing them may help my cat stress levels. Everything is shit, the world is going to shit, and my Jem isn't here to save me, and I want some frickin tuna.

Tagging @chibi-tsukiko , idk if you want to be tagged in this but I know you said to start tagging you 🙈

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ot3tropetober · 4 years

Text

Fic: A Bushel And A Peck

AU: Eliot runs an apple orchard. @aimlessglee [AO3]

“What the hell is this?” Eliot asked, but he took the folder Hardison was handing him.

“Flavor,” Hardison said. “Background. Worldbuilding. Just read it, okay? I spend a lot of damn time on these aliases. You need to know who you are if we have to deploy them.”

Eliot flipped through the file. “Why is there a picture of me holding a basket of apples?”

“Just read it!” Hardison said.

Jeremiah Atherton, Jem to absolutely everyone or suffer the consequences, stood at the booth at the entrance to his family’s orchard. Momma and Pops had finally taken the plunge and bought a place down in Florida for the winter. The days were still sunlit and warm, but the nights were getting nippy, and they’d headed south a few weeks ago, promising to be back in the spring. They’d earned it, he thought. He smiled at the pretty blonde beside him - he’d known Heather since they were kids, even babysat her a few times when their parents went out and did stuff together. She made the best apple cider doughnuts in the county, and her pies were melt-in-your-mouth good. Their families had worked together a long time. It was a solid partnership, kind of part of his inheritance, and only he knew if he had a couple of soft thoughts about her every one in a while.

“Is that supposed to be Parker?” Eliot asked.

“Yes, it’s Parker,” Hardison said.

“Apple orchard, huh,” Eliot said. “Kinda…not very tough. Why can’t I run cattle?”

“Damn, Eliot, do you know the kind of effort it takes to keep a small operation running in this economy?” Hardison scowled. “Cows take care of themselves. Trees don’t. Also you can’t run cattle like that in New England.”

“Huh,” Eliot said, and went back to the file.

“Think it’s gonna be a good weekend?” Jem asked her.

Heather grinned. “It’s always a good weekend in the orchard.” She gestured around her. “Sun’s out. Nice and cool. People are gonna come pick a ton of apples and eat a bunch of doughnuts.”

“And they’ll drink cider,” Jem told her, hefting a gallon jug in each hand. “Don’t forget about the cider.”

“I never could,” Heather promised.

“It’s farm fresh,” he said.

“Honey, I know,” she said, putting her hand over his. “Why do you think I started making doughnuts? I wanted to get out of cider pressing.”

“‘Scuse me,” somebody said. They looked up to see a very tall, very handsome Black man dressed in a v-neck sweater that clung to the muscles of his chest, an expensive coat, and a scarf.

“Uh huh,” Eliot said. I see you.“

"What?” Hardison asked, all innocence.

“Hey, man, what can I do for you?” Jem said.

“I’m here to pick apples,” the guy said. “I kinda thought that was what people did here?”

“Weren’t you here last weekend?” Heather asked suddenly. She leaned her elbow on the counter and cupped her chin in her hand. “You were. You bought a dozen doughnuts and a half-gallon of cider.”

The guy smiled at her. “Good memory. I was, and I did. But you make a couple of pies and a batch of applesauce and boom, you need more apples.”

“And the weekend before that,” Heather said.

“I…like apples?” the guy said.

“We should make you a punch card or something,” Jem teased. “Tell you what.” He took one of the orchard’s business cards from a rack and scribbled on the back of it. “Come four weekends and I’ll give you a free peck the fifth time.” He held out the card, and the guy took it and looked at it fondly before he tucked it in his pocket.

“Deal,” the guy said.

“Take a doughnut,” Heather urged, wrapping one in a napkin as Jem pulled a basket off the stack and put it on the counter. “On me. You’ll need your energy.”

“Thanks,” the guy said. He smiled at them as he took the basket and the doughnut.

“Hey, man, what’s your name?” Jem called.

“Alistair,” the guy said. “Alistair Weaver.”

“What are you in this fantasy, some kind of fancy city lawyer?” Eliot asked.

“Well, yeah,” Hardison said. “That’s kind of how it works.”

Alistair did come back the next weekend, and then the weekend after that. They had a nice conversation every time Alistair showed up at the booth, which he did more and more often, coming back for a refreshing glass of cider or one of Heather’s sandwiches or a bag of cinnamon almonds. Jem found he was looking forward to seeing him. This time, Alistair was in a more casual outfit: a fleece and fitted jeans. He looked good, sophisticated in a kind of way Jem couldn’t pull off.

“Can’t resist that free peck, huh?” Jem teased.

“Not when you’ve got the best apples in the state,” Alistair said, and grinned.

“Did you know a peck can also be a quick kiss?” Heather said suddenly. “Usually on the cheek, but sometimes on the lips.” They both looked at her.

“She’s just kind of like that,” Jem told Alistair. “Says things.”

“I get it,” Alistair said.

“He owes you a peck,” Heather insisted. “Come on, Jemothy. Cough up.”

“That’s not my name,” Jem mumbled.

“Hey, if it’ll make you happy,” Alistair said. He leaned over the counter and presented his cheek to Jem.

“Uh,” Jem said.

“We’ll both do it,” Heather said. “Ready, Jem?” She pushed herself up on the counter and gave Alistair a dry little kiss on the cheek. Jem didn’t move.

“I get it,” Alistair said, winking at Jem. “You’re a big talker. You talk the talk, but you don’t peck the peck.”

“I do,” Jem insisted, and he leaned in and gave Alistair a quick kiss, barely brushing his lips over Alistair’s warm, freshly shaved skin. Alistair smelled really good, honestly. It kinda made Jem tingly inside. He wanted to press his nose against Alistair’s neck and just breathe him in.

“Now that’s customer service,” Alistair said. He took his basket and the doughnut Heather had insisted on giving him again. He grinned at them. “See you in a couple of hours.”

“A guy like that doesn’t drive out from the city every weekend just because he likes our apples,” Heather told him. “He likes you.”

“Maybe he likes you,” Jem said.

Heather shrugs. “Everybody likes me. He likes you especially. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

Jem squinted at her. “I don’t think so.” But he was definitely waiting for Alistair to come back, he realized, as he weighed people’s baskets of apples and took their money. His heart jumped around a little when he saw Alistair approaching, or maybe that was his stomach. He’d stress-eaten a couple of doughnuts between customers. He snuck a glance at Heather, but she was busy, thank heavens. He’d had enough of her help for one day.

“Hey, man,” he said as Alistair handed the basket over.

“Hey yourself,” Alistair said, smiling sweetly. Jem ducked his face to hide the fact that he was blushing a little. Alistair leaned on the counter. “About earlier…I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. Seemed like kind of a joke between you and Heather, you know? I was just trying to play along.”

“What, the kiss?” Jem said airily, pretending like it hadn’t meant anything to him. “Nah. Heather’s like that. She likes to meddle. Don’t ever play Truth or Dare with her. I’ll give you that one for free.”

“Oh, that was a kiss to you?” Alistair joked. “Damn, I guess it’s a good thing I never asked for your number.”

“No, it wasn’t…” Jem started and then squinted at Alistair. “I gave you my number. It’s on the business card. You could have called any time. If, uh, you wanted to call. For whatever reason.”

“I didn’t think that was your personal number,” Alistair said. “Besides, I was kind of busy this week. Had to rush to finish all the work for a big trial so I could come out here today. Then I find out if I did call you and ask you out, the kiss I’m gonna get at the end of the date is a peck on the cheek.”

“That’s not how I kiss,” Jem protested.

Alistair raised one eyebrow and smirked.

“Not on a date, anyway,” Jem mumbled. He felt half-hypnotized by the warmth in Alistair’s deep voice and dark eyes.

“Tell you what,” Alistair said. “I’ll come back next week and you can prove it. When does the orchard close?”

“Seven,” Jem said.

Alistair nodded. “I’ll make reservations for eight. Where’s good around here?”

“My place,” Jem said boldly. “Not a better cook in the county.”

“It’s a date,” Alistair said. He checked his watch. “Hey, let me pay you for those apples.” Jem startled out of his daze and started bagging them up.

“You leaving already?” Heather said, finally disentangled from her customers. She started putting doughnuts and a half-dozen hand pies into a box. “Aww, Alistair. I feel like I barely saw you.”

“Don’t you worry,” Alistair said. “I’ll see you both next weekend.” He took the apples and the bakery box and handed over some cash.

“Y'ain’t that slick, ace,” Eliot said, but he said it fondly. He reached over and patted Hardison’s knee.

“You wanna put together the aliases, be my guest,” Hardison said, tapping at his keyboard and frowning at his screen. He softened up enough to smile at Eliot.

The date went well. Really well, actually. Jem had made dessert to go with the simple bread and stew he’d prepared, but dessert had to wait while he proved to Alistair that hell yeah, he kissed better than a peck on the cheek. Alistair made it back to his AirBnB that night, but after the next couple of weekends, he stopped bothering to book one, and they started waking up cuddled together on crisp Sunday mornings. Honestly, their relationship was pretty perfect: Alistair worked in the city in the week and came out on the weekends. Sometimes he even helped in the orchard, though operations were winding down and Jem was shifting to pumpkins, the corn maze, and hay rides, motorized and unmotorized.

“It’s not like work at all,” he said, standing in the front booth with Heather while Jem tinkered around in the engine of the old farm truck they used for hay rides sometimes. “Work is all research and computers and suits and yelling. This is peaceful. There’s fresh air. People are happy to see me.”

“I’m happy to see you,” Heather told him. He put his arm around her companionably. Jem grinned at both of them. He looked down at his stomach.

“Aw, hell,” he said. “Got grease all over my t-shirt.” He shrugged off his overshirt and reached down and stripped off his t-shirt. He put his overshirt back on and started to do up the buttons.

“WAIT,” Heather yelled. She ran to the house and came back with a glass, which she filled with cider and handed to Jem. “Alistair! Do you have your phone on you? Take a picture!”

“Way ahead of you, H,” Alistair said, coming up and crouching. “Jem, baby, strike a pose on that hay bale.”

“This is dumb,” Jem said.

“It’s absolutely not,” Alistair said. “I’ve got a buddy in advertising and we’re gonna use this to make an ad campaign for the orchard. Double your business easy.”

“We’re going to sell so much cider!” Heather said excitedly, clasping her hands together.

“Now that’s too much,” Eliot said.

“You wanna see the cider ad campaign or not?” Hardison asked.

“…yeah,” Eliot said.

“Back page,” Hardison said, still staring into his screen. Eliot flipped through. He had to admit, Hardison had done a hell of a job. He didn’t remember lying half-shirtless on a hay bale at any point, but looking at the photos, maybe he’d just forgotten. Hardison asked him to do a lot of stuff that seemed foolish at the time, and Eliot tried to forget it.

“Are we gonna use this any time soon?” he asked.

“You never know,” Hardison said mysteriously.

“I know,” Parker said, coming down from the ceiling. “And I like it. So maybe.”

“Well,” Eliot said. “Could be worse.”

“I know you know how good you’ve got it,” Hardison told him.

“Really good,” Parker agreed.

“Really good,” Eliot said, nodding along. He grinned at them. “The best.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Parker told him. “Let’s go find some cider doughnuts. I need to know what those are.”

“Let’s do it,” Eliot said, and together they pried Hardison away from his computer and went to find an orchard.

#au: apple orchard #ot3tropetober

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softest-cinnamon-roll · 5 years

Note

@gamepunks says Reddie + Snowed In a cozy cabin :))

@eduardokaspbrak sorry for the length of time you had to wait for this fic, but here it in nonetheless! Enjoy!

AO3 link

* * * * *

“Looks like the storm is going to last a few more days, Eds,” Richie sighed as he came off of the phone to his parents, taking a seat next to Eddie on the loveseat by the fire. Eddie wrapped his arms around Richie’s waist, burying his head into his neck.

What had meant to be a nice weekend getaway from the city to a cabin just north of New York, had turned into what would now be a week trapped thanks to an unexpected snowstorm. Not like Richie was complaining about being able to spend more time with his fiance, as they had been so busy with work it felt like Richie had barely seen Eddie.

Outside the snow was falling steadily onto the ground around the cabin, and Richie slipped off of the couch to add more wood to the fire. It sparked up, lighting the room up more and Richie turned his head, his eyes landing on Eddie as he curled up on the couch, his eyes closed softly.

Richie felt his heart swell, his breathing hitching just a little at just how beautiful Eddie was. His lightly tanned skin looked golden under the firelight, and his blond hair glistened, making him look nothing short of angelic. Richie knew if he said any of this to Eddie, he’d probably get punched in the gut, but deep down, Richie was aware of how much Eddie liked to be complimented.

God, did Richie enjoy complimenting Eddie. He loved pressing kisses to his soft, moisturised skin and running his hand through his soft locks. Eddie loved to take care of himself, and had a very serious skincare routine, never once missing it. He also ensured that the shampoo he used had the best ingredients to make his hair look and smell like perfection.

From the couch, Eddie yawned and cracked his eyes open, meeting Richie from where he was still sat by the fire. Slowly, Eddie raised his eyebrow, “Chee? Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Just admiring how pretty you are, Eds,” Richie answered, not even making an attempt to hide the fact that he had been staring. “You are just so damn perfect.”

A blush rose up on Eddie’s cheeks and he turned his head to the side, avoiding Richie’s gaze, “Shut up,” he mumbled, pulling the blanket over his shoulders more firmly. Even though the fire was blasting, the room around them was still relatively cold since the power went out thanks to the storm.

Richie laughed, smiling wide and he slowly made his way back over to the couch. He didn’t want to leave Eddie alone on the couch for too long, as he was aware that body heat was important when it was less than -4 degrees fahrenheit. At the mere mention of how cold it was outside, a shiver ran down Richie’s spine and he clambered onto the couch, sliding under the blanket.

“God, you’re feet are fucking freezing dipshit,” Eddie grumbled, his cheeks still tinged a light red from Richie’s earlier compliment. “Why did you have to get off of the couch into the could in the first place?”

Ignoring Eddie’s protests, Richie just pulled his fiance into his lap, wrapping him up in a hug, soaking in his body head. “Needed to put more wood on the fire, it was getting dim and then we would really be cold,” Richie breathed against the skin of Eddie’s neck.

Eddie let out a soft sound and he let Richie pull him into his arms, settling rather comfortably, like he was used to it. The whole thing made Richie grin because he had been with Eddie so long, that he just expected Richie to pull him into his lap and cuddle him tight.

Ever since he was younger, Richie had craved human contact. With the losers, he never made it a secret to hug them or sit on them, or even hold their hands when they were all cuddled up watching a movie together. None of them seemed to mind as it was ust Richie, and that was how he was. Out of all the losers though, Eddie was the one who Richie liked to cuddle with the most, and when they got together it only got worse.

The losers were a little annoyed at their acts of affection at first, but they soon got used to it too. They never complained when Richie pulled Eddie into his lap, or when he called him pretty for wearing light clothing and styling his hair perfectly. It was just who Eddie was, and Richie fucking loved that about him.

“What are you thinking about?” Eddie asked, looking up at Richie through his beautiful dark eyes that made Richie’s insides turn to goo. He looked absolutely breathtaking, and the light from the fire was only adding to the perfection that was Eddie Kaspbrak.

“Just about how perfect you are,” Richie whispered, completely honest and reached up to cup Eddie’s cheeks, preventing him from turning his head away. “I know you hate it when I call you pretty, or beautiful. I know it makes you flustered but sometimes I just can’t help it. You are just so breathtaking, sometimes when I look at you I just…lose control of my thoughts for a few minutes.”

Eddie’s eyes were wide, but they softened as he listened to what Richie had to say. He cleared his throat and bit down on his lip. “You know that…I’m not going anywhere right?” He asked and Richie’s stomach tightened a little. “I- I know we’ve been so busy with work lately and this was why we took this trip but…no matter what I’m always going to love you. We’re getting married in four months.”

Unable to help himself, Richie leaned over and closed the distance between them, kissing him softly. He carded his fingers through Eddie’s soft locks, pulling him a little closer as he parted his lips with his tongue. The kiss remained soft and sweet, both of their bodies too stiff with the cold to do anything more than that, and they pulled away with a smile.

“I love you, so much Eds,” Richie breathed, resting their foreheads together. “I can’t wait to marry you. You know, if we ever get out of here. Just in case we freeze to death, will you marry me right here and now Eddie, Kaspbrak.” His words were dramatic and he pinched Eddie’s sides to make him squeal.

It worked and Eddie let out a loud screech, his hands balling into fists and whacking Richie on the arm, “You are such a fucking idiot! I can’t believe you! That’s it, I want a divorce!”

Richie cackled, “We’re not even married yet, Eds!”

“Then I want to marry you, just so I can get divorced from you!”

Another loud laugh and this time, Eddie was also giggling too. “I love you too, Eddie Spaghetti.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but there was nothing but fondness behind them, “Ugh Richie, don’t call me that. You know I hate it when you call me that.”

Mhm. Richie thought, his eyes sparking. Eddie might say just that, but Richie…he knew well enough.

* * * * *

@richietoaster @tozier-boy @eds-trashmouth @bitchbrak @sloppybitchreddie @its-stranger-than-you-think @maximusfraker @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @thejadeazalea @halfway-happy353 @tinyarmedtrex @inthebreadbinwrites @kat-ships-everything @takeourpure @lo-v-ers @mrs-vh @studpuffin @s-s-georgie @reddie-for-anything @trashmouthtozierr @richietoizer @girasol-eddie @bi-bi-richie @honeybeehanlon @mars-14 @reddiesetandgo @marsisaplanetyall @xandertheundead @sedanleystanley @hawkinsbabe @beepbeeprichiellc @stellarbisexual @oldguybones @thundercatseddie @eduardoandale @purplepoisonedgem @reddie-to-cryy @pink-psychic @violetreddie @fuzzylogik @queen-sock @appojoos @moonlightrichie @rreddies @disneyfan567 @annxmatron @lifesucksheres20bucks @anellope @roobarrtrashmouth @are-you-reddie-for-it @callmechee @nancynwheeler @reddieforlove @twoidiotsinl0ve @madi-artist @tozierking

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #writing tag

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reverseblackholeofwords · 4 years

Note

okay, how does the house tour go? and can we *please* for the love of Markiplier, talk with Yancy?

“This is the lobby,” Wilford informs them and points to the front desk where Oliver is playing Galaga on his computer. “That’s Ollie. He’s the nice android.”

“An android? Really?” Illinois asked, sort of feigning surprise. “Impressive.”

“Wait, he’s da nice one? As in there’s a--uh--not-so nice one?” Yancy asks as Wilford pulls them back into the elevator.

“Three of them, actually. They have this whole thing about ‘destroying mankind’ or something like that.” Wilford waves his hands through the air. “But that’s a load of hooey. They really do love us deep down.”

The doors open, and Wilford loops an arm with both new boys and pulls them along. “This is the clinic. Everyone spends lots of time here.” He waves. “Hi, Doc!”

“Which part of you is bleeding?” Doc asks, already poising his pen on his clipboard.

“Nothing today!” Wilford jostles Yancy and Illinois, both of them look obviously uncomfortable. “Just showing these two around remember?”

“Oh yes.” Doc pushes his glasses up his nose and sighs. “I’m Dr. Iplier. The clinic is open twenty-four seven basically. If I’m not here, Dr. Schneeplestein will likely be on duty. We’ve got ever blood type well in-stock and all the life support machinery you could ever need. Plus, you get a punch card, and after ten broken bones you get a free CAT scan.” Doc takes a long slug of his coffee and shrugs.

“Do’s people get injured often around here?” Yancy asks, glancing at the other Egos in the waiting room. Of course, life in prison came with its fair share of risks and injuries, but Happy Trails was renowned for its rehab program. Most of the inmates were gentle as kittens once you got to know them.

“Yes.” Doc pinches the bridge of his nose. “Much more often than you’d think.”

Illinois crosses his arms over his chest. “You know, that reminds me of a time when I was in the West Indies. Had to sew up my leg with monkey hair after I was mauled by a tiger.” He sighs wistfully. “That was quite the adventure; lost my third partner to a cursed snake relic!”

Wilford wiggles his mustache. “Well, on that note! Let’s get on with the tour!” He whisks the two of them away, up to the common area where you, Mare, and Jameson are all playing poker, betting with cookies rather than real money much to Jameson’s annoyance despite the fact that he doesn’t actually know how poker works.

Mare sets another cookie on his stack. “You better go ahead and fold, little weirdo. Don’t forget I can sense fear.”

Jem pushes all his cookies into the pile and crosses his arms over his chest smugly. Mare’s eyelid twitches. Yancy smiles. “Oh! This looks familiar at least!”

#wilford warfstache #yancy #illinois #dr. iplier #google oliver #jameson jackson #natemare #the legion #ask the egos #fresh faces

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desperationandgin · 4 years

Text

Outlander 5x01: Top Five

If you’ve been following me since before my Outlander days, then you maybe know that I used to host this podcast called Once Upon a Podcast, and our format was to discuss 5 things we loved and 5 things we didn’t. The goal was this: Not everyone likes or dislikes the same things, so let's make a list and compare, then discuss. And we did! I found myself missing that so I went for it on twitter for this episode.

Here’s the link to the original thread of tweets (feel free to follow me there!) and I’ll put them under a read more, here. I can also elaborate a little bit better, so everything is going under a Read More. So, the tl;dr version is on twitter, here’s the longer version. OBVIOUSLY, spoilers for the first episode of season 5!

TOP FIVE FAVORITE THINGS:

5. Fergus and Marsali, which obviously encompasses both of them individually as well. I love that they got drunk at their sister’s wedding. I love that Marsali is pregnant. I love that they chose to ignore Fergus being unable to join the militia due to disability. Jamie specifically calling out to him, son of my heart made me absolutely lose my mind. I love Fergus and Marsali Fraser. I’m excited to see more of both of them, especially Marsali and Claire if things go the way I suspect they will.

4. Bree. I know for some reason not a lot of people like Sophie as Brianna, but I thought her choice to play Bree happy yet muted was correct. Amplifying it after being trigged of course, made it more obvious. I've always loved Bree, so I know this is a hot take. I have more to elaborate on though, that’s not my favorite regarding Bree, so I’ll do that part there. Here, I just wanted to celebrate that I enjoy Sophie Skelton and where there are shortcomings, I see opportunities for her to keep growing as an actress.

3. The music. Oh my God, Bear McCreary, just. First of all, I love the new intro. A good a capella choir will give me goosebumps every time. The 'Fraser's Ridge' remix was DELIGHTFUL and of course, so was 'Je Suis Prest.' I teared up, I'm in love.

2. Sam Heughan. UHHHHHHH why doesn't he have awards? I'm specifically talking about the end, of course. Sam's so great at getting that tone inflection just right, at casting his eyes down, clenching his jaw - all at the exact perfect moment. THEN THE CRYING was the gut punch. And earlier, when he was staring at the chest with those things inside that meant so much, I could very much imagine every single thought going through Jamie’s man. Sam played that out using only his face and I’m just. I’M OVERWHELMED.

1. The montage. Look, I know it was over Roger singing, and I know at the end we were punished with having to watch our children have sex, but using 'L-O-V-E' was SO CUTE and I'm so glad 'try to have sex with a sleeping infant in the house' is something J/C didn't miss out on, lol. To elaborate on my limited tweet it works because there are fans of all 3 ships and it was a way to get all 3 in without having to do extended scenes for all of them. THAT SAID, there were parts of it that didn’t work and I’ll get to that here in a little bit. But over-all, I didn’t mind it. I think if I were making this list from scratch today I would probably swap my 1 and 2, but IT IS WHAT IT IS.

TOP 5 LEAST FAVORITE THINGS:

5. Roger. I didn’t elaborate well on this on twitter so here we go:

He has done NOTHING to earn the respect the writers are trying to get me to give him. Jamie’s thoughts are my thoughts but dial mine up to an aggressive 100. That STUPID line about ‘some of us like to think before we act’ or whatever, was RIDICULOUS. You had to think so long and so hard about whether or not you wanted to love Bree regardless of her situation that you were DAYS behind Jamie and Claire? Okay, sure Jan.

And already talking about ‘when we go back.’ WHY DIDN’T YOU TALK ABOUT THIS BEFORE GETTING MARRIED? She didn’t ask you to come to begin with, Roger. In fact, she EXPRESSLY ASKED YOU TO STAY AWAY. But the real icing on the cake is issue #1 with the montage even though fundamentally I enjoyed the montage: When your wife is VISIBLY shaken, when she consistently looks like she’s holding back tears, MAYBE read the room? It’s just aggressively frustrating because Jamie Fraser would never, and it makes me feel like Roger doesn’t KNOW Bree at all.

4. Jocasta and Murtagh. The second part of the montage that didn’t work. I'll actually reserve a lot of my judgment for a few episodes from now, but I don't care enough? I feel for them individually, but their relationship hasn't been built up enough for me to be emotional. We'll see what happens. Them being included in the montage felt unearned; who are the people so deeply invested already that they needed to be included? Here’s the last thing I’ll say about what that montage could have been: Jamie and Claire having a full love scene juxtaposed with Roger realizing his wife is having a hard time and simply comforting her. Jocasta and Murtagh not needed. When they go their separate ways, when she realizes Murtagh can’t marry her, I felt bad for HER but...the relationship didn’t do anything for me. Don’t need it.

3. That fake baby standing in for Jem looked DEAD you know what shot I'm talking about. Took me right the hell out of it for a second lmao. BUT WHILE WE’RE HERE, let’s talk about how convenient it was for Jem to look SUPER BLONDE LIKE BONNET directly before and after Brianna being triggered, and then going back to a darker hair color the rest of the episode. LMAO.

2. Could have used more J/C kisses. This is more something that didn’t happen that I do WISH happened. I loved the Jamie in a kilt scene but if we could have gotten a Prestonpans-esque scorching kiss, it would have been the CHERRY ON TOP. Missed opportunities. On twitter people only saw ‘Jamie in a kilt’ and didn’t read the rest so LET’S AVOID THAT HERE. I LOVED the kilt scene, just so we’re all clear and on the same page. I just wanted some tongue action. I’m greedy.

1. The pacing. I know there was a lot to get in and GOD BLESS THEM for being able to condense what DG could not, but it still felt patched together. It felt rushed at times and the cuts were sometimes odd choices. The dialogue felt sloppy, especially the pre-wedding bits. The whole episode semi-felt like a montage of ‘conversations that must happen along with things we HAVE to allude to for future plot.’ It was pretty jarring, and I can’t remember a premiere that felt this....jam-packed with content. It felt the way Once Upon a Time forced info down our throats rather than showing ANY of it, and it super sucked, so. Let’s not make that a trend, Outlander.

There! All my thoughts that no one asked for :)

#outlander #the fiery cross #spoilers

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wftc141 · 4 years

Text

Voltron: Global Military Intelligence and Counter-Terrorism Unit-Chapter 11: Revelation

1700 Hours

"So you're saying these guys aren't jihadists but Middle Eastern anarchist kind of terrorists?" Lance asked as paramedics gathered up the bodies from the safe house.

"Not just Middle Easterners," Allura corrected, turning back to the team. "It's an international terrorist organization intent on overthrowing governments worldwide."

"That's one helluva terrorist group."

"The militia we dealt with at the slum raid were also the Galra too, weren't they?" Pidge guessed.

"I'm afraid so," Allura nodded. "Cardozo confirmed it. We also have bad news from them. Earlier today, the Palácio do Planalto was just bombed before the attack on our safe house. There were no survivors."

The team were silent but Allura could read their shock and disgust and she could understand that. The Galra were willing to take innocent lives for a greater good.

"This is fucked up." Lance muttered.

"Where are they gonna strike next?" Keith asked.

She shook her head. "We're not sure."

"What about Shiro?"

Allura glanced at the floor in doubt, which was enough for an answer. She wasn't sure what Sendak was going to do with him but she prays that Shiro can hold his own.

Shiro was awakened by the bright illumination of light, flashing into his face. As his vision caught up, he noticed two looming figures standing over him. The only thing he remembered was getting hit by an explosion in the room before blacking out while trying to stop Sendak. Shiro found himself on a chair with his hands tied behind his back. He then got a clear look at the two figures' faces. Both were Middle Eastern and definitely part of the Galra. The two exchanged some words before one of them went up to Shiro.

"سگ آمریکایی! (American dog!)" the Galra terrorist yelled in farsi, punching Shiro.

The terrorist was then forcefully pulled away by the arm. Shiro's gaze locked onto Sendak as he stood next to the terrorist, holding his arm tightly.

"آیا از شما خواسته ام به او صدمه بزنید؟ (Did I ask you to harm him?)" he hissed in the same tongue.

"متاسفم ، برادر! (I'm sorry, brother!)" the Galra terrorist replied. "ما باید این سگ آمریکایی را حرف بزنیم! (We must make this American dog talk!)"

Sendak simply pulled out a pistol and shot the terrorist in the head. After ordering his partner to remove the body, Sendak turned back to Shiro.

"My apologies, Shirogane. I'm not here to harm someone who's treated me humanely." He said, holstering his pistol.

"It doesn't matter what you'll do to me." Shiro muttered, avoiding his gaze. "I'm already dead."

Sendak softly chuckled. He approached Shiro and stopped a couple feet away from him.

"I admire your courage but you have been misunderstood. I need you alive."

"Why?" Shiro growled. "Ain't I a liability? Ain't I just a soldier in your way?"

"You are...I'm impressed that your team managed to get this far but you're no use to us when you're dead."

Shiro refused to look Sendak in the eye. Whatever he was asking, he won't give in to his demands.

"You see Shirogane," Sendak said. "We're both warriors...we're both lions in a waging conflict riddled with deception. Our masters of war only see us as machines to fight pointless battles for empty glory. They sent me and my unit to Turkey to assassinate the prime minister so they can pin the blame on terrorists from their country.

It was a dirty operation because my master didn't want the Turks to step foot into our country. They had us pose as Al-Qaeda terrorists and ordered us to start a mass shooting at a football game where the prime minister was. I've killed so many men, women and children that I've lost count…"

Sendak paused before continuing.

"You know, those soldiers I killed in Iraq destroyed the hometown where I used to live. My father was trying to surrender when they shot him. My mother and sisters...they were raped before they were killed. I murdered them all when I found out what they did and all of a sudden...the government marked me as a terrorist. I am what I am because of what they did and I have no shame for that."

Shiro looked up where he faced Sendak's back of his head. He could understand his pain but that alone wasn't enough to forgive him.

"This does not change that you're responsible for the deaths of thousands of innocent people. You killed my team and my brother."

"Hmm. I understand," Sendak turned around to approach Shiro. "Which is why I'm not going to kill you. In fact, you have a choice. You can join us and together we'll bring those government tyrants to their knees..."

His gloved hand then latched onto the back of Shiro's head and forcefully turned it to his direction, locking gazes with each other. Shiro glared intensely at the eyes of his enemy.

"...or you can be my prisoner and watch the government fall and your country burn."

Shiro remained silent. Just staring at his eyes makes him want to spit at him. He was sure as hell not willing to work with Sendak. However, keeping his mouth closed may have saved his life. Sendak let go of his head and stood up.

"I'll leave you to think about it," Sendak said, heading for the door where one of the terrorists was waiting. "I expect an answer by the time I return."

The door slammed shut and the lights went off. Shiro looked down to the ground. He can't let this slide. Sendak is not going to get away this time. But first, he needed to get the zip-ties off his wrists. They were surprisingly tighter this time.

1800 Hours

The first thing he saw as he slowly opened his eyes was the pale-coloured ceiling. Jem only remembered getting shot and passing out while getting dragged through a chaotic shootout by Stacy. It felt different to his field missions while he was with Interpol. Jem felt the dry insides of his mouth as he licked over it. He needed water.

As his vision began to clear up, Jem found himself on a bed with curtains surrounding him. He must've been taken to a nearby hospital. Jem helped himself to sit up, only to tense up. His waist hurts like hell, much as if a soccer ball hit his ribs. Looking down, he noticed he was in a gown as well as some needles injected to his hand. He couldn't lift up the gown to see where his wound was but hopefully it didn't puncture anything fatal. But after all, he was the youngest and the most vulnerable of the family.

Suddenly, the curtains opened, jolting him. Jem cursed, spinning towards the source of the sound while holding his arms in defence before noticing Stacy standing at the curtains with a water bottle on her free hand. Judging by her face, Jem must've surprised her too when he almost got scared. Something is giving him déjà vu vibes.

"He-," he uttered. "Bloody hell, you scared me."

Stacy snorted, letting slip a smirk. "Five years and you still haven't changed. How're you feeling?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Hurts when I sit up."

Stacy approached him and sat on the stool by the bedside. "The anaesthetic must've worn out while you were asleep. You want water?"

Jem nodded eagerly and took the bottle from her, downing about half of the water inside. He made sure not to move too much to avoid friction from the needles injected into his hands. He let out a sigh of relief as he took the bottle out of his mouth and handed it back to Stacy.

"Thanks, Stace. You're a lifesaver."

Her smile grew as she took the bottle off his hand. Jem couldn't help but stare at her short, ash blonde hair accompanied by the eyebrow piercing on her right eyebrow. He at first didn't recognise her when they met again five years later while Coran introduced him to Voltron. Still, he missed that long hair of hers and the feeling of running his hands through that silky sensation but changes happen in the end.

"You know..." Jem said, breaking the silence. "This is...some reunion."

Stacy glanced at him.

"I mean, it's been like a week since we met after five years and shit happened so fast, you know? Like, we caught a leader of a terrorist organisation and then we got attacked and lost him and I got shot and almost died. Crazy, huh?"

Jem began to titter and Stacy chuckled with him. "Yeah, it's crazy."

The moment of letting out their stress stopped. Turning towards her, Jem noticed her grin was still on as she stopped chuckling. Her eyes however give Jem a different meaning. Silence befell. Both were unable to think of anything to say. Then Jem figured something out that he didn't get to ask between the week.

"How's things?" The way he said it felt forced.

"Hmm?" Stacy looked up.

"I mean, we haven't seen each other since we…you know…"

"Broke up?"

"Y-yeah," Jem nodded, hiding the awkwardness in his voice."You must've been doing well, right?"

"Yeah, you could say that."

"So...you got into the FBI, right?"

She nodded again. Stacy always wanted to be an analyst after graduation and was quite fond of the FBI whenever they talked about their careers.

"I almost didn't, actually" Stacy said. "I messed up the final test at the Academy but fortunately, there was some sort of error in the system so they let me off on this one."

"Really? What happened?"

"Dunno. But anyways, I was an ace at my job. Caught a lot of criminals, including that one terrorist that the FBI has been trying to catch for twenty years. You should see the look on his face when he found out I was part of the team who raided his hideout. Still doesn't believe women are capable of anything."

Stacy began to chuckle. Jem did the same but then stopped himself.

"W-Wait, you were involved in the raid?" He asked.

"Oh, right. Forgot to tell you," she replied. "I also applied as a field agent halfway during my five years there. I had to keep myself in shape and work out and take up a different diet. It was a pain in the ass but those years definitely paid off."

Jem glanced at her and noticed there were some changes in her body. Her arms were slightly toned and her shoulders fit the shirt well. Honestly, compared to his skinny build, she was quite in shape. Although Jem wasn't that skinny, he still felt inferior to her build. In other words, he was kind of envious.

"How about you, Jem?" Stacy asked. "Anything interesting happened? Apart from that raid while you were in the Intelligence Corps."

Jem sighed. Other than taking part in the field, nothing big happened in both the Intelligence Corps and Interpol. Jem leaned back onto his pillow behind him.

"Nothing much. Just paperwork and coding, the usual."

Stacy slightly nodded. Another pause between the two. Stacy then got up from the stool.

"Well, since you're fine now, I'll just head on out. Coran's waiting for me." She said.

"Y-Yeah. Got it," Jem muttered before realizing something. "W-wait! Stacy! I have something to tell you."

Stopping near the curtains, Stacy turned back to him. "What's up?"

Even though she was his ex, Jem still felt like his chest was going to burst. He needed to say those words.

"Thank you," He said. "For saving me."

A smile spread across her face. "You're welcome. Just don't...well, get shot again, okay?"

Jem snorted. "Promise."

"The way you said it is kinda making me concerned." Stacy blinked.

"Relax. I swear, I won't."

She nodded and turned away, heading for the door. "Alright. As long as you keep your end of the bargain. I'm heading out now. See ya."

"Later."

And then she left. Jem heard the door close as footsteps distances away from the room. Letting out a sigh, Jem placed his hand over his chest where he could feel his pulse punching its way out before slowly calming down. Were those feelings back in highschool resurfacing? He thought he had let it go ever since then. Or maybe they were just hibernating for years until he met Stacy again? Whatever it was, Jem couldn't figure out why. He slapped his hands over his face and groaned.

"Why now, Stacy? Why'd you gotta make me go through this again?"

While following Lance and Pidge, Keith and the two noticed Hunk just coming out of a room with one of his hands in his pocket.

"Yo, Hunk!" Lance called, grabbing his attention. "Where've ya been, ese? I had a feeling that you ran away."

"Lance!" Pidge and Keith hissed at the same time, prompting Lance to raise his hands.

"I'm joking."

"It's fine," Hunk assured. "I just got off a call with Shay and got some more information about the Galra Empire. She told me who they really are-"

"Yeah, we know they're buncha anarchists." Lance said.

"But there's a reason why the Galra is operating in Brazil."

"Which is?"

"The president has scheduled a meeting with the presidents of Colombia, and Venezuela for tomorrow morning. They're planning to discuss about a potential combined military and defence agency in response to the spike of crime and terrorism across their countries."

Pidge and Lance were surprised to hear it. They did hear about the meeting between the presidents but there wasn't any info about why.

"The news didn't say anything about this." Keith said.

"Sounds overkill for these three to come up with something like this." Pidge added.

"Kinda makes sense when you think about the stats on both crime and terrorism."

"And the Galra sees this as oppression." Hunk said.

"Wait, how does a journalist like her have access to information like that?" Lance asked.

"She has her ways apparently."

"Also, wouldn't the meeting be cancelled? Did they not get the news that a Brazilian government building was just bombed?"

"No they're still gonna go with the meeting despite what happened to Palácio do Planalto. She isn't sure about when or where the meeting's gonna happen but it's only a matter of time before the Galra begins their attack on the presidents."

"Team?" Allura called, grabbing everyone's attention. "I have some bad news."

The leader stepped in with the group, forming a circle.

"I just got off the phone with the higher ups...They want us to leave Brazil and return to London immediately."

Allura could tell nobody was happy with the news as she looked at the team's faces. She wasn't happy with it either. They'll be letting the Galra run amok and take more lives as part of their goal and worse, execute Shiro.

"We can't go back."

The team looked at Keith who was the first to break the silence.

"We can't!" He raised his voice. "Do they even know what happened to Shiro? Not only that, the Galra is going to attack the presidents and nobody knows but us! We can't just sit aside and let them take more innocent lives, let alone leave Shiro with the Galra. Somebody's gotta do something and we're their only hope. If we let them kill the presidents, what do you think's gonna happen to all of us?"

There was silence. It was the first time they heard Keith let out an outburst like that.

"He's right," Pidge spoke up. "We need to do something."

"I'm in too. I can't walk away on this either." Hunk said.

Lance hesitated for one moment. "Fuck it. I'm always up for some action."

To them, they assumed Allura's planning to give up and return to base, leaving Shiro to die. But she was impressed that they were willing to risk their lives to stop a catastrophe.

"I never said we were going back to headquarters."

The team looked at her, surprised.

"To hell with orders from the superiors," Allura said. "As far as we know, they could be on this like General Sanda. From now on, this is an unsanctioned operation. This means we won't have any support and we'll be disobeying commands which may get Voltron shut down and court marshalled. If any of you want to step down, you're free to do so right away."

Nobody said anything. They were all willing to fight back.

"We're not going to let the Galra commit another attack and we sure as hell are getting Shiro back."

The team nodded with their decision being final. There was no going back from this but if it's to ensure their leader is with them, nothing matters. That is, if Shiro's still alive at this rate.

"So what's the plan, Major?" Keith said.

"Брат, как поживает заключенный? (Brother, how's the prisoner doing, over?)" Fakhoury asked through the radio.

The only response that returned was the ear wrenching static. Barad was supposed to keep watch of the Voltron infidel Sendak wanted. He hasn't responded for the past thirty minutes and at this point, Fakhoury was sure Barad was slacking off as usual.

Letting out a hoarse sigh, Fakhoury got off his chair and snatched the AK-104 off the table before leaving the room. The gun itself was actually more efficient and comfortable to use than the old AK47s he and the insurgents used to carry. The Galra sure knows their weapons. Fakhoury headed downstairs, taking in the sweaty stench of the Brazilian streets. The city may be impressive but they will be leaving a message for the government so they could prepare for their fall.

Fakhoury arrived at the room where the Voltron infidel was. Barad wasn't at the door. Where could he be now, he wondered. He knew Barad wasn't fond of doing patrols and keeping watch to the point he would wander off to have a smoke. Fakhoury let out a sigh and got out his radio.

"Барад, где, черт возьми, ты? (Barad, where the hell are you, over?)" he asked before pausing.

Fakhoury thought he heard his voice from the room. Now he was getting confused. Without thinking it through, Fakhoury opened the door which for some reason was unlocked.

"(Bara-)"

He froze, holding his breath short. There, lying on the floor, was Barad and the chair that the Voltron infidel was supposed to be on was empty and tumbled. Fakhoury rushed towards Barad and bent down to check on him. His wide, soulless eyes stared at the ceiling as he checked for a pulse. Fakhoury noticed red marks over his neck, fresh and warm. He was too focused on his friend's demise to radio in Sendak.

Standing up, Fakhoury felt a strange aura behind him. He spun around and glanced across the room. There was no sign of the infidel at all but Fakhoury still felt like he wasn't alone. He wasn't sure what to do now. Turning around to the body, he noticed the barrel of a pistol aiming at him from the side of Barad's head.

He pulled the trigger, letting the loud bang rip across the room. Shiro heard the round hit the terrorist and pushed the body off him. Pulling himself up, he approached the wounded terrorist holding his neck while stumbling back and gurgling in his own blood. Shiro fired two more well-placed rounds to his chest, enough to make him trip over while dodging the terrorist's misfired rounds.

Once Shiro made sure he wasn't getting back up, he flicked the safety of the Glock 18 back on and rubbed his bruised wrists. It stung like hell but it was the only way to get off these zip ties. He approached the terrorist he strangled just after breaking free of the zip ties and took the suppressed AK-104 and his plate carrier fitted with ammo.

After putting his plate carrier on, Shiro then heard faint footsteps from outside. His prediction was correct. Raising his rifle, Shiro walked out of the room and cautiously checked his surroundings as he moved down the hallway. The footsteps closed in from the corner and the last terrorist appeared. Shiro let single fire rounds rip and dropped the terrorist before he could react. Approaching the body, he fired two more rounds to the head just for precaution.

As he went upstairs from where the terrorist came from, he noticed the rusty, metallic stairs and the industrial-like setting surrounding him. Shiro would assume this is a warehouse that the Galra set up as a hideout. Arriving at the upper floor, he found a room with an open door. Entering the room, he made sure to check every corner throughout the room before confirming it was clear. Shiro's eyes then landed on something that caught his attention. At the very middle of the room among the tables filled with weapons and ammunition was a wide board with everything stuck together in one piece. There were sticky notes and strings connected to the pins holding up photos.

Shiro was able to read the entire board to realise how capable the Galra was. They knew everything about Voltron. Their tactics, their movement, everything. That was how they got the upper hand. The ambushes in Pakistan, Dubai and Qatar were all tests to prove their exploitation.

Shiro then read the rest of the board and noticed a photograph of a building which looked to be the Palâcio do Planalto with a red X crossed over it. The Galra must've done something to the building. Shiro looked over and found three separate photographs of men in suits with flags attached to it and red X's crossed over each of their faces, as well as a cutout of a newspaper article in English. There was Brazil, Venezuela and Colombia. These three are the presidents of those countries. Shiro needed to know what their relation is to Galra.

He took the newspaper cutout off the board and read it. It seemed to be about some sort of 'secret' meeting between the presidents which was cancelled due to the bombing of the Planalto in Brasilia. The word 'cancelled' was circled in red with the word 'LIES'. Then Shiro noticed another photograph of a building which looked to have been taken recently with a red circle over it. The building itself was strangely different compared to the Planalto. Was it their secret hideout? He noticed a sticky note attached next to it with the address written on it. Shiro realized that the Galra must've seen through the cover story of the meeting and somehow figured out where the presidents were going to be at. He then noticed another sticky note saying:

'Tomorrow

9:30 AM

We strike'

There was only one final conclusion to this. The Galra is going to kill the presidents and possibly abolish the countries' system.

Thankfully, Shiro found a phone lying on the table as he frantically searched for a way for contact. They need to know this. Shiro dialed Allura's number and held the phone to his ear. The beeps repeated multiple times as a couple of seconds had passed. Shiro's fingers tapped on the table as he anxiously waited.

"Pick up, pick up." He muttered.

The beeping stopped shortly.

"Hello?" Allura answered.

"This is Black Lion." Shiro responded.

There was a brief pause. "Shiro? Is that you?" "Yeah. Listen, Sendak and his men are gonna attack the presidents-"

"I know. We're sending the Lions there to stop the attack. Where are you-"

Shiro needed to get his message through. "Do you know where the presidents are meeting at?"

A brief pause filled the air. "Not yet. We're getting Coran and his analysts to pinpoint their location. You found something?"

"Yeah, I'm looking at it right now. They have a secret hideout in Goiânia and the Galra must've figured out their location. That must be where the presidents are going to be tomorrow. I got the address too."

"Alright. I'll relay this to the team. What's the address?"

Shiro took the sticky note off the board and read the address aloud. "R. 15, 32-148, St. Central."

"Got it," Allura said. "I'm gonna send the team to pick you up. Where are you right now?"

"Don't worry about me. I'll meet the team there."

As soon as he hung up, Shiro immediately crushed the phone with his boot, making sure the chip inside was destroyed with the phone. Now to get out of this place and find the team. As he made his way out of the room, Shiro turned around to look at the board one more time. The Galra were smart and dangerous. Possibly more dangerous than Al Qaeda or ISIS, especially with their motives and views. But no matter their perspectives, Voltron's purpose is to take down and prevent terrorism around the world and that is what Shiro and his team is going to do. Looking away, Shiro left the room and set off to put a stop to Sendak's mission.

1 note · View note

talesofmaehem · 5 years

Text

Entreat Me Not

It’s past midnight when there’s a gentle rap at Jem’s door that doesn’t wait for a response before opening. Jem smiles, not needing to turn to know that it’s William home from some late night excursion. He wonders how many times Will has done just this only to find him asleep, wonders what Will does on those occasions. Most likely slips back to his room and his books, Jem muses. He turns, intent on putting the question to Will, but when he sees his parabatai he finds an entirely different question springing from his lips.

“Why the hell is there glitter everywhere?” Jem asks affably, looking Will up and down.

“Magnus Bane,” Will says, waving him away as though it explains everything. Jem remembers Magnus and Henry together in the crypt and supposes it does.

Will claims a spot on the trunk at the foot of Jem’s bed and leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Jem shifts where he sits in the armchair by the fire and takes the opportunity to watch his parabatai from the corner of his eye. It is one of those rare moments where Will appears genuinely at ease. There is none of the restless fire in his eyes, no sardonic twist to his lips. He appears…content. Satisfied with this brief assessment, Jem turns back to the fire. The two of them sit in silence together, staring into the flames, enjoying the simple pleasure of the other’s company.

Finally, just when Jem thinks Will must have dozed off, his parabatai speaks.

“Are you happy, James?”

The question is sincere, and Jem takes a moment to give it due consideration.

“At this moment, I am.”

“I am not speaking of this moment,” Will says, but there is no bite to his words, only clarification. “Your life here, at the Institute,” he hesitates and Jem glances to him, but his parabatai is staring intently at the fire, “with me, does it make you happy?”

Jem frowns in concern. “William, what’s brought this on?”

Will shifts his eyes to meet Jem’s and smiles reassuringly, “Curiosity.”

Jem searches Will’s face for any sign of, well, he doesn’t know what—despair or madness or anger perhaps—and Will gazes openly back. Will has always been good at hiding his emotions, but eventually Jem is satisfied that Will has told him the truth.

“Of course,” Jem says, “How could I be anything less than content? I—”

“I didn’t ask if you were content, Jem,” Will interrupts, his voice as steady as his gaze on Jem’s face, “I want to know if you are happy.”

Jem frowns again. He doesn’t know what Will wants to hear. He turns the phrase over in his mind, trying to see what is hidden at the heart of Will’s question.

“I am happy.” Jem meets Will’s gaze, “and I am not.”

He sees his parabatai clench his jaw and nod, as though this is the answer he was expecting.

“We have both born much William,” Jem says gently, though when it comes to Will’s past he can only guess. He sees the hardness and distance begin to slip back into Will’s eyes, so he continues, “It is a heavy burden, to survive, and sometimes—” Jem is surprised to feel unshed tears clinging to his throat, “—sometimes I feel guilty for every laugh that escapes, for every breath that I breathe, even though I know my parents would not want me to be imprisoned in perpetual sorrow. I am grieved that they will never meet you, or Tessa, or Charlotte, or Henry, and I am furious that every day I must take that damned drug that killed them just to live a little longer.”

“James—”

“I am disgusted by the prejudice of the Clave, and disappointed I won’t be around long enough to try and change it. I’m saddened by the thought that I won’t meet Charlotte and Henry’s children, if they have them, and that I’ll never have any of my own. Mostly, I’m bitter that I will die before I’ve lived even a quarter of the life I could have had, and more than anything, I am scared of what you will do when I am gone.”

Will opens and closes his mouth, but James continues before Will has the chance to find the words he wants.

“But despite all that,” Jem insists, “I am happy. I’m surrounded by people I love and who love me in return.” Will turns back to the fire, his face unreadable. “Because even if I do not have my health,” Jem plows on, “I have my music. I have taught my parabatai to properly throw a knife so he can defend himself in battle, even if I am not there.” Will gives the barest hint of a smile, “I fight demons and protect the mundane world, as is my duty. I do my best to honor both my mother’s family and my father’s. But most of all,” Jem asserts, pausing until Will is looking at him again, “I am happy because no matter how short my life may be—” he holds up a hand to cut Will off before he can speak, “no matter how short, I will be happy because you have been in it. Our souls, William Herondale, are bound beyond the divide of death and for that I am eternally grateful. I will have other lives, and I will meet you in them.” He offers Will a sad smile, “May our time together be longer in the next one.”

Will looks like he wants to speak, or cry, or possibly punch something, but he does none of these. He only manages to shake his head and stand, reaching out to clasp Jem’s hand in his own. Jem takes it and Will pulls him to his feet and into a tight embrace. Will is so rarely openly affectionate that for a moment Jem is too stunned to react. But it is a brief moment, barely the blink of an eye, before Jem wraps his arms around his parabatai. It feels as though Will is trying to crush Jem’s body into his own, as though he would carve out half his own soul to make room for Jem’s if it meant he could save Jem from his illness. His fate. He holds on to Will, trying to remember every detail of this moment so that he can recall it when things get bad. The way Will smells like soap and soot and the London night air. The paired beating of their hearts, creating one rhythm. The strength of Will’s arms around him, the pull of fabric where Will clutches the back of his shirt. He pats Will’s back, once, twice, and it is a mistake because Will must interpret it as him asking for distance and pulls away. Jem wishes he hadn’t, that he had just held on to Will for a moment longer.

“Entreat me not to leave thee, James Carstairs, or return from following after thee—for wither thou goest, I will go.”

Jem smiles softly back at him, “And where thou lodgest, I will lodge. Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.”

Will looks soberly back at him, the reflection of the fire burning in his eyes. Time blurs and Jem is thrust into the past, into this exact moment yet not, with twin rings of fire burning in the dark. He remembers the stele clutched tightly in his palm, his shoulder bared to William, the burn of Will’s stele drawing the Mark on his shoulder, and his own unfurling above Will’s heart, how he had felt his soul sing with the rightness of it.

“Where thou diest, will I die,” Will intones, “and there will I be buried.”

Jem shakes his head, prepared to argue with Will, an argument they’ve had countless times, but Will doesn't give him the opportunity.

“The Angel do so to me, and more also—” he continues.

“If aught but death, William Herondale, part thee and me,” Jem finishes.

Death will part us, Jem thinks, but he can see the old panic beginning to creep back into Will’s eyes and so he only voices the second half of the thought.

“But not yet, my brother. Death will not find me a willing companion,” he smiles then, the mischievous smile only William can seem to tease out of him, “not when I could have the delight of your company instead.”

William smiles back at him, a shadow of his usual roguish grin, but for now it is enough. They pass the wee hours in laughter and idle discussion until they settle once more into their comfortable silence. Jem must doze off, for when he opens his eyes again the sky is tinged grey with dawn and the fire has burned to ashes in the grate. He wonders whether the previous night had not been a dream, some vivid hallucination induced by one of his fevers, but this doubt is quickly relieved by the thin sheen of glitter Jem finds coating his shirt and the presence of the warm blanket Will had thrown over him as he left.

If he had thought about it, perhaps he would have remembered what yesterday was. How, many years ago, on that day, his Uncle Elias had offered to take Jem into his home, how Will had been sure that Jem would leave him. But Jem did not have Will’s permanent Mnemosyne rune to burn such information into his mind, and so later, much later, when he was lying ill in his bed for the last time, he recalled that day unsullied by the weight of the past. He didn’t know that Will had feared Jem regretted his decision to stay, or that his parabatai had felt immeasurable guilt for keeping Jem from his family. He only knew that he had spent that night laughing with his best friend, that for those hours he had been undeniably happy. And he knew, deep in his soul, that he was about to be cursed, just as Will had so long believed himself cursed. He would truly know the weight that Will had carried, and the thought gave him a small measure of satisfaction. It was only right that he should bear the burden his parabatai had carried for so long. After all, he deserved it.

“The angel do so to me, and more also,” Jem murmured.

If aught but death part thee and me—

But death would not be what parted them and their Angel was not known for its forgiveness.

Have you prepared yourself to leave the world of mortals and take your place among the City of Bones? The voice of Brother Enoch echoed in his head.

Jem shuts his eyes one last time and remembers the reflection of fire in burning blue eyes. He remembers the way Will smelled like soap and soot and the London night air. The paired beating of their hearts, creating one rhythm. The strength of Will’s arms around him, the pull of fabric where Will clutched the back of his shirt. He places a hand to his shoulder, above the Mark that stands stark against his pallid skin.

Forgive me, William.

Then he nods, “I am ready.”

#clockwork princess spoilers #tid fanfic #tid ficlet #jem and will #Will and Jem #heronstairs #heronstairs parabatai #PARABATAI FEELS #twin rings of fire #ao3

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spiltscribbles · 5 years

Text

All The Lights Are Sparkling For You | Part I

~*~

“So a sixteen ounce almond latte with a pump of lavender and honey?” The barista chortles, flipping her pretty ginger hair and batting her lashes.

“Precisely gorgeous,” Kit says with a smile that makes her flush.

“Cool, that’ll be right up.”

“Brilliant!” Kit gives two quick wraps of his knuckles against the countertop before pivoting around and sliding into the seat across from Ty, pretending as if his chest doesn’t seize at the sight of his insanely intense sea glass eyes and the pedal soft curve of his cheek.

“She likes you,” he says in that stripped down way of his before taking a bite of his sub, a bit of mayo getting on his cupids bow, and thanking Kit when he passes over a napkin.

“You flatter me Tiberius,” Kit snorts before snatching the other half and eating it himself, only partially curious of how much it might look like a date from the outside, and entirely ignoring how much he wouldn’t mind if it was.

“Everyone likes you,” Ty shrugs, blasé.

“They tell me it’s the smile.”

That makes it so Ty lets out a breathy, little laugh, and Kit can’t help but liken it to the most beautiful instrument. He’s always so proud whenever he can make it so Ty’s eyes go incandescent and there’s the slightest dimple right on the apple of his cheek, when Ty looks effortlessly beautiful and happy to be here.

Kit knows that this sleepy Oregon town on the coast is as far away from LA— where Ty was brought up— as anything could be. He knows that Ty choosing to go here for University was a way for him to strike out on his own, apart from the huge Blackthorn clan that Kit’s only ever seen pictures of, but has been exceedingly jealous of ever since. Kit knows that Ty has never really fit into his own skin here, that if it wasn’t for Kit’s constant insistence that they spend days on days together at the start of their freshman year that Ty would’ve been perfectly content keeping to hisself for the four years he’s here until he could go back home. But still, Kit also knows that they were meant to be in each others lives, in some major capacity.

He thinks back to his mother— her pale gold hair and the twinkle in her eyes— She use to always croon that the stars were set out for us, that kismet and providence would lead us to the people we’re meant to be. Kit was a little boy then, one who was to busy making a ruckus wherever he went to spare any of his time to understanding what she meant with those sort of proclamations. Even now, so many years divorced from her death, Kit doesn’t think any of his decisions were chosen before he ever knew the options, but a small part of him does like the idea that some peoples stars were lined up in the exact right breath that they were destined to cross paths and to create an entirely knew one for just the pair of them. One that was glowing and glimmering and perfect.

Kit’s sure that Ty’s one of those people— maybe the only person save for Tessa and Jem— And if he could make Ty even slightly happier than he was, then Kit considers it a job well done.

“Order up,” the barista from before chimes as she slides across the coffee and a slice of the lemon loaf. “On the house handsome,” she winks before strutting back to her post.

“I’ll take that,” Ty says before plucking the dessert from Kit’s non suspecting hand.

“Rude.”

“Life can be like that,” Ty just reasons before picking up his chirping phone, face grimacing at the sight of the text.

“Everything’s okay?” Kit asks, tentative.

“’s just Livvy.”

Kit can feel his face scrunch up in confusion. Every time Ty even alludes to his twin sister— a pixie sized, beautiful brunette with eyes that are a mirror of Ty’s own— he’s only ever beaming with light and glee and it’s probably the only times Kit looks at Ty and he seems totally whole.

“Is she alright?”

“Wonderful.” Ty intones, tossing the device to the side and sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, delicate hands beginning to tap and flutter around the table in a nervous sort of tension.

Kit’s becoming even more nervous than before.

“Don’t leave me in suspense Tiberius, what’s going on?”

“Nothing… Erm ah, nothing really.” Kit levels him with his patented are you shitting me grimace. “It’s just, my older brother…”

“Mark or Julian?”

“Julian, he’s getting married.” The locomotive sized weight on Kit’s chest suddenly dissipated and he swats Ty on the forearm.

“Hey! What’s with the frown you ass! That’s great news! It’s with that pretty blonde right? Emma?”

Ty nods, still impossibly glum looking.

“Ok Tiberius, I’m really confused to the whole woe with me thing you’ve got going on right now.”

“Livvy’s designated herself the head wedding planner.”

“Alright… and the problem?”

“I just know that Dru’s bringing her boyfriend Jamie, and Helen’s bringing her wife Aline, and of course Mark’s got his Kieran and Christina-“

“Okay man, i’m seriously not following any of this but we’re going back to the bit where Mark’s got two partners apparently? Which I personally find unfair and a bit elitist.”

Ty ignores him and just continues rattling off these names that Kit only slightly recognizes.

“Magnus and Alec are gonna be there and like just stand around being better than everyone! And Jace and Clary! Definitely Isabell and Simon too!”

“Am I having a stroke? Ty as my best friend you’re obligated to tell me if I’m having a stroke.”

“You know this’s all just a big ploy by Livvy, right?” Ty charges, mouth curled.

“This wedding… The one between your brother Julian and his long time girlfriend Emma, is a ploy? A ploy by Livvy?”

“She’s worried about me! She’s always worried about me! She thinks that I’m sequestering myself here, was mad when I came home over the summer and told her I hadn’t gone out with anyone all year.”

Kit spreads out his hands, very narrowly misses toppling over his drink. “Sisters am I right?… Actually am I right, I was an only child growing up and Nian has only just begun learning her shapes so I doubt she’d be much of a comparison.”

Ty’s expression goes very, very flat.

“You’re so ridiculous.”

“And you’re so serious.”

“Look, I know Livvy, okay. This’s just part of her grand plan to finally pair me up with someone!”

“A grand plan… Kit repeats, slow and confused.

“She’s worried about me, she thinks that everyone needs like a boyfriend or girlfriend or whatever to be happy.”

“I see.”

“She’s gonna try and pair me up with like somebody I don’t even know for the entire wedding! Like some way worse version of a blind date. Just you watch!”

“Aren’t weddings like only a few hours?”

“Not in Blackthorn standards,” Ty bristles, begins to spin his phone with the pop socket Kit had gotten him a couple weeks ago because it had his initials and it was a cheap version of getting something actually monogrammed, which in all his dorkitude Ty actually loves to have, has got all his pencils imprinted with his first and last names, and middle initial. It’d all be infuriating if it wasn’t so cute.

“Yo man I’m sorry, but Livvy’s got your best interest at heart, you know that.”

“I know,” Ty sighs, runs a hand through his dark hair . “I just wish she didn’t feel like responsible for me all the time.”

Kit purses his lip in discomfort, suddenly feels an intense kinship with Ty’s twin whom he’s never met. He’d like to tell Ty that it’s not a feeling of responsibility but a gesture of love. She wants to make sure he’s taken care of because her heart wouldn’t feel complete if she wasn’t doing that. Kit wants to tell him it’s not because he’s a weight on her shoulders but because he’s the first person to look at him and make Kit feel like he’s being seen. The first person to touch him softly instead of automatically assuming he’s been cut from metal and steel and brimstone. The first person to have caught and effortlessly kept Kit’s attention, the only one who’s ever made it so Kit’s skin feels like it’s been lit on fire with every surreptitious glance.

Oh, erm— Ah, but that’s all completely from livvi’s hypothetic perspective, not from Kit’s. Not at all, not even slightly.

“Mmm,” Kit clears his throat, trying to clear his head of all those sorts of thoughts, less he risk the best friendship he’s ever known. “Well Livvy obviously just wants to make sure you’re happy, I bet if you just told her that you’ve already found a date for the wedding she won’t bother to try and play matchmaker.”

Kit’s taken aback when he sees an all too familiar gleam in Ty’s gorgeous eyes and his head popping up in sudden, acute excitement.

“Yes! Brilliant! Totally! Watson you’re a genius!”

Kit can’t help but preen, feels a warmth coiling deep inside him at the sparks Ty’s quite literally radiating.

“I’m glad you’ve finally came to the light Tiberius.”

“You’ll come then?”

“Oh, ah, what?”

“To the wedding! You’ll pretend to be my date, in a romantic sense I mean.”

“Ahh,” Kit feels like he’s been succor punched, is especially confused to this parody of what he’s been privately wishing to hear for over a year now. “Run that by me again?”

“you’re a genius!” Ty crows, fists clenched and smile bright. “It’s not even that large of a leap! You’re the only person I tell them about and I bet if I tell her now that we’ve begun dating she wouldn’t even prod when I bring you to the wedding in January!”

Kit still feels very much so out of the loop.

“THey’d probably want you to spend Christmas with us too, would that be alright with you? You guys don’t really celebrate right? Jem’s a Buddhist and you said Tessa is atheist right?”

“Ah… yeah?”

“Oh awesome! I’ll call her and tell her now!” Ty leaps out of his chair, gathers Kit in for a tight hug before scurrying off to a quieter corner of the union to chat with Livvy.

“Wait, what just happened?” is all Kit can manage out, blinking owlish in Ty’s wake.

#Kit and Ty #Ty and Kit #Tiberius Blackthorn #Kit Rook #Kit Herondale #Spilled Ink #The Shadowhunter Chronicles #Will never figure out their ship name lol #spilt ink

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thechangeling · 3 years

Text

Say my name or I won't survive

This is an extension of my headcannon for non binary Kit. He uses he/they pronouns. Kit comes out to Jessa as nonbinary.

Tw: mentions of transphobia/enbyphobia

A lot had happened since that conversation with Magnus. Kit usually didn't like to make a habit out of breaking down in people's arms. But it had become clear in that moment that they needed to talk to someone. That they needed to face the things they had been pushing down, trying to avoid.

Kit was currently standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom. Magnus had let them take some clothes that had been magically altered to fit Kit. Just so he could experiment with wearing them.

So far he hadn't made it out of his room wearing a dress or a skirt, but Kit was trying to take baby steps. Well mostly they were just scared. Scared of what Jem and Tessa would say.

Scared of what everyone would say. Like what if he was just making everything up? Or maybe he was just confused? Shadowhunters were big on tradition. Asking people to use different pronouns for Kit and stop using his full name might be a challenge for some people.

Like Jace, their brain supplied.

Kit stared at their reflection on the mirror. Magnus had started teaching them how to apply makeup and experiment with it. Kit confessed that when they were younger they used to steal eyeliner and lipstick from drug stores and put it on when Johnny was otherwise occupied. Kit was still no where near Magnus's level of talent but they were pretty good.

Kit had done simple makeup today, not looking for anything too crazy, just a little mascara to make his eyes pop and concealer to cover his light bruising from training. He hadn't wanted to look too girly during this conversation, he figured it was better to ease Tessa and Jem into this whole thing.

Also Kit didn't always feel like looking too girly, even though as Magnus constantly reminded them, clothes and makeup didnt have a gender. They liked playing around with different concepts, different styles. The societal ideas of femininity and masculinity were just that, ideas. There were no real rules, not when Kit stopped playing the game.

They stared at themself in the vanity mirror, trying to think of exactly what Kit was going to say to Jem and Tessa. Just saying the words, "I'm nonbinary" didn't seem good enough. They felt like they needed to give a proper explanation of their feelings and experiences or else they would be accused of faking it.

The urge to prove ones validly, the need to make sure people knew he was real and he wasnt crazy, it was more importent then anything. It was infuriating. Knowing that his experiences could be so easily dismissed as delusional feelings.

Not trans enough. Not cis enough. Not gay enough. Not straight enough. Kit's mere existence was a controversy on it's own. It was exhausting enough to make Kit want to abandon the whole idea of coming out again all together. Maybe it was easier just to smile and nod everytime someone misgendered them. Ignore the clenching of their stomach and the punch to the chest that came with it.

Smile and nod and be the man he was meant to be. But he had been doing that for 18 years and he couldn't survive it much longer. Kit needed to come out. People needed to acknowledge his reality and use the proper pronouns for him.

Or else Kit was going to wither away, shrivel up into something unrecognizable. A shell of their former self. They were going to die if they had to hear "Christopher" one more time.

The only time it was tolerable was when Ty said it. Kit could almost pretend that he could be the person Ty thought he was, if it would make Ty happy. He used to think that he could let himself wither away and die as long as Ty was ok. As long as Ty was safe and happy.

But that wasnt ok. That wasnt fair. Kit deserved to be safe and happy as well. One of the things they had learned with Jem and Tessa was that Kit deserved to put themself first sometimes. Kit deserved good things despite what Johnny Rook had made them believe. Kit wanted Ty to be ok. They wanted Ty in general.

But Kit needed this.

He took a deep breath and exited his room, heading downstairs to the kitchen where Jem was cooking breakfast and Tessa was trying to get Mina to settle down. Everyone looked up as soon as Kit entered the room.

"Kitty!!!" Mina screamed excitedly, waving her arms around. Tessa shushed her fondly, scolding her for yelling.

"Good morning Christopher," Jem said with kind a smile. "How did you sleep?"

Kit tried to ignore the way their stomach clenched at the sound of their birth name. Dead name, their brain supplied. They needed to tell Tessa and Jem. Kit slid into a nearby chair with a heavy sigh.

"I need to talk to you guys about something," he muttered, trying not to sound too nervous or dejected. Tessa and Jem shared a worried glance.

"Is everything alright Kit?" Tessa asked sparing Mina a glance, probably wondering if she should be removing her from this conversation. Kit shut his eyes briefly and took a breath.

"Yeah I hope so. I just need to tell you something," Kit ran their fingers through their curls. Jem and Tessa watched them, waiting patiently. Kit tried to ignore the shakiness of their breath and the way their palms.

"Here's the thing," Kit began. "You might not get it but I need to ask you to respect it ok?

He didn't wait for their responses. "I'm nonbinary. Which basically means that I'm neither male nor female. I'm something else, something seperate. I don't know I guess I just think of myself as a person who doesn't really have much of a gender," he was staring at the tabletop refusing to make eye contact. "It's just sort of like, if you think of the colour spectrum as gender, I would be a blurry watercolour. A mixture if all kinds of different things and sometimes some colours are more vibrant then others. And then sometimes it's just gray."

Kit wasnt sure if any of this was really making any sense but they knew they had to try. Jem and Tessa were both still silent. Mina was happily chomping down on her breakfast and ignoring all of them. Kit took this as a sign to continue.

"I don't exactly know why I'm like this or how I know. But maybe there are some things that you just can't explain. You just know. Like I know that the sun will set and then rise again tommorow and I know that I love you guys," Kit voice faltered at the last part. He looked up at Tessa and Jem, panicked over seeing their reactions.

But they were both just staring at Kit with huge, loving smiles on their faces. Kit's breathing slowly began to return to normal but their hands were still shaking. Tessa csne towards them slowly, grasping Kit's hand in hers.

"Baby it's ok," she cooed. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. It's just like we told you when you first came out as bisexual, we will always love you no matter what." Jem nodded.

"I have admit this whole thing is rather fascinating," Jem chimed in with a smile. "I've never heard the term before." Kit fought the urge to remind him that two weeks ago he had never heard of playstation, but decided against it.

Mina was paying attention to them now and she was smiling at Kit. "No bany!" She cried excitedly. Kit couldn't help it, he through his head back and laughed. Mina scowled at him slightly. "Not quite Min-Min," Kit told her playfully.

"Do you have different pronouns that you would like us to use?" Tessa asked. Kit's heart fluttered at the question. They didn't actually think either Tessa or Jem would think to ask.

Kit cleared their throat. "Yeah do you think you guys could use alternating he/they pronouns for me? Like use he in one sentence and then use they?" Kit instantly felt kind of guilty for complicating things further. "I'm sorry I know that's kind of confusing."

Jem shook his head, "no it's fine! We just want you to feel comfortable." Tessa nodded in agreement. "Is there anything else?" Kit pulled Mina's hands off of their shirt. She had begun to tug and pull out of boredom.

Kit nodded. "Yeah do you think you could stop calling me Christopher please?" He hoped he didn't sound to harsh. There was something so guilt inducing about having to ask for these things. It felt like Kit was making unneccessary demands. But he wasn't. He had every right to.

Jem instantly looked sheepish. "I'm so sorry Kit," he said softly. Tessa looked guilty too. Kit shook their head.

"Its ok. You didn't know. Just don't do it anymore ok?" Kit felt significantly lighter, like a giant weight had been lifted off of their shoulders. They slid out of their stool to walk around to the other side of the kitchen island and hug both Jem and Tessa.

Kit knew it wouldn't always be this easy. He knew that this life would be complicated and difficult, but it would also be full of exploration and freedom.

Kit would always have a place he belonged.

"I am also a we."

- Sense 8

Tag list you know the drill, let me know if you want on or off: @scrat-is-god @playwithravenclaw @lavender-scented-rat @knifescythe @ti-bae-rius @dianasarrow @doitforthecarstairs @jazzkaurtheglorious @waterlillies @zfoxdraws @julieandthefandoms @older-brother-kit @ilikebooks8 @nott-the-best @stxr-thxif @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @autumnangel20 @hufflepuffyskam

#tsc #tda #the dark artifices #kit herondale #twp #the wicked powers #tw slight discussion of transphobia #tw internalized enbyphobia

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ti-bae-rius · 5 years

Text

First Words - Jessa baby fic

So @cordeliashunts requested a Jessa baby fic (I think? Oh god now I’m concerned it was Jemma. Either way...) and so I decided to write it - with a touch of Kitty because, of course. I’m also using these as a little warm-up to my full-length fic so thanks for the request! Click read more for the fic!

Kit had always been an only child. Then again, he’d always been a mundane - or so he thought. For a long time, when he was little, he’d longed for a baby brother. Then when he got older, when the reality of life - with all its demons and Shadow Market scams and danger - fully hit him, like a freight train or a hundred tonnes of bricks, he realised the truth; there was no way he’d want a sibling to be born into this hell-hole of a world. There was no way he’d have been able to give his imaginary brother a good life, what with his dad entertaining clients and summoning demons in the lounge. No infant should be in a house with potion dealers and pentagrams. And just like that, in a puff of smoke like a dust cloud from one of his dad’s old books, his dream of a little brother was gone. It was selfish, he knew, but he’d liked the idea of a companion, someone to be there so he wasn’t alone hiding in the basements when shady people came by the house to collect something. He wanted someone to talk to, to confide in, to teach. He wanted someone who knew how it felt, the mystery and magic and misery. Who he loved, and who loved him. And then there had been someone. There had been someone to hide with and who made him feel brave enough not to hide. Someone who he could talk to and confide in and teach, who did all those things back. Someone who knew how all of it felt. Who he loved.

And who didn’t love him.

Kit rolled over in bed, sick of waking up thinking of Ty Blackthorn. I love you, I love you, I love you. His hands tightened on the bedding. Still, after just over a year, he was mortified. Embarrassment jabbed at his sides as he read, shook him awake in the dead of night, shoved thoughts out of his brain as he tried to work and filling his head instead with ‘I love you’. He heaved a sigh and shifted onto his back, staring up at the ceiling of his room in Devon. England was pretty - if drizzly and grey - especially when he could see the coast and hear the seagulls from his room. The beach reminded him of Los Angeles, which reminded him of Ty. What didn’t? The local accents reminded him of Sherlock Holmes, which reminded him of Ty. The paring knife in the kitchen drawer reminded him of throwing knives, which reminded him of Ty. Boys with black hair were a no-go, Tessa’s grey eyes ached to look at, and any animal in the world was a punch in the stomach. Ty was in every single part of his life.

Except for her.

Kit heard a gurgling yawn from across the hall and swung his legs out of bed, padding across the corridor to her room and putting his head around the door. She sat up in her crib and reached chubby starfish hands out to him. Even in his daydreams as a little boy, he’d never imagined a baby sister.

“Hey, Cecy. Hi.”

Cecilia, his little sister, was Kit’s world. Her name was a twist on Will’s sister’s name, Cecily. Though not technically his sibling - she was Tessa and Jem’s daughter - she had always been his sister. Even before she was born, Tessa and Jem used to talk to the baby in Tessa’s stomach about her ‘big brother, Kit’. He heard the tell-tale pad of paws on the wooden floor and turned to see Church jump up and settle on the chair by Cecilia’s cot where Tessa and Jem sat to read to her. Sometimes, when Kit couldn’t sleep, he’d sit there and just watch her, a perfect little human with edges rounded by baby fat and rosy cheeks and tiny little fingernails so small they looked like pink flower petals. Her eyes were like Jem’s, dark and searching, but her tufts of brown hair were all Tessa. Kit couldn’t believe she was real, couldn’t believe he was part of their family. A proper family.

Church yowled and Kit snapped back to reality.

“I’m already here, you miserable -” He stopped short of swearing at the cat, but only just. Partially for Cecilia’s sake, but partially because it always had a funny way of getting back to Jem. “Snitches get stitches,” Kit hissed at Church, who rolled boredly onto his back with his legs in the air, doing his best impression of being dead. Every morning, if Kit wasn’t awake when Cecilia stirred, Church would sit at the end of Kit’s bed and meow relentlessly until Kit got up, then follow him to make sure he was spoiling her sufficient amounts. And Kit was. He personally believed Cecilia would be a nightmare when she got older, with her parents and Kit doting on her every waking minute.

Kit scooped Cecilia into his arms and held her against his hip as he went downstairs to the kitchen. Tessa and Jem were asleep and Kit was unwilling to wake them. They were up all hours for night feeds and general parental duties. Now she was on formula milk, Kit was more than happy to make up her bottle and let them sleep. It also meant Kit could rant to her. Babies were surprisingly good listeners. Cecilia would babble incoherently along, and Kit appreciated the fact she’d taken on the role of his personal sounding board expertly.

“I just don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Kit said now, pouring the cooled water into the bottle and scooping in the formula powder. He tapped the base of the bottle on the counter with more force than was probably necessary in frustration. “It’s like he’s everywhere. The beach; Ty. The garden; Ty. The caves...”

“Ty.”

“Exa-” Kit broke off, frozen. He eventually turned to stare at Cecilia in her high chair. “W-what did you say, Cecy?”

“Ty!” She giggled happily.

Kit dropped the bottle he was holding and only noticed when Cecilia wailed in indignation and put grabbing hands out for it, fists opening and closing. Like Ty’s did when he was anxious, Kit thought, then cursed himself. Now was not the time.

“No no no...” Kit muttered, picking the bottle up from where it had rolled across the floor. He rinsed off the teat of the bottle and dried it on the bottom of his shirt absently, placing it into his sister’s grabbing hands. Kit still felt shell-shocked and stared into space as he sat down on the sofa. His baby sister had just said her first word and it wasn’t ‘mama’, or ‘dada’, or even his name. It was Ty. She’d heard the name so much that the first thing she’d ever said was ‘Ty’. All that time he spent venting to her, he hadn’t realised she’d been taking it all in. He hadn’t thought she’d say his name, at least not before anything else. This was a nightmare. What explanation could he possibly give Jem and Tessa for this? They’d be heartbroken. They’d also be suspicious. What kind of weirdo monologues to an actual infant about his pathetic, unrequited...something. Not crush. He couldn’t say crush. That made it too real. All those feelings he’d had when he saw Ty - his stomach fluttering, his heart flipping and other more embarrassing things - became something dangerous and frightening when he thought of them as symptoms of a crush. If Cecilia said Ty’s name in front of Jem and Tessa, the jig would be up. They’d know. They’d tell people. That’s what you did when your child said their first word, right? They’d probably tell Helen and Aline since they’d just started the process of having a baby of their own. What if they told Helen? What if they told Helen and Helen told Ty? Then he’d know. He’d know, if he didn’t already, that Kit’s ‘I love you’ had been more than friend caring for his friend, more than a brotherly show of affection. He’d know - they’d all know - Kit’s secret, and it was all his own fault.

He looked across at Cecilia. If she understood him enough to say Ty’s name, then maybe...

“Cecy,” he said, kneeling down beside her high chair. Her rosebud lips puckered around the tip of the bottle and she smacked them happily. “Cecy, please. Please say something else. Mama, Papa, okay? Anything. Not...not that. I...” He could feel his voice starting to splinter and sniffed hard. “I love him, Cecy. And no one can know. No one but you. Please, Cecy.”

Cecilia’s eyelashes were so long as she looked down at her brother that they cast shadows across her chubby cheeks. She reached down and wrapped her whole hand around Kit’s thumb. Kit smiled up at her, seeing his own face reflected in her dark eyes, and hoped to God she understood him.

“Morning, you two,” Tessa said, coming into the room and tying the belt of Jem’s old dressing gown over her nightdress. “Church has stolen my spot in bed. I’m sure that cat is gunning for my place as Jem’s wife,” she laughed, lifting Cecilia into her arms, beaming. “How are you sweetheart? Have you been keeping Kit company? Smile for Mama.”

“Mama,” Cecilia repeated and Tessa gasped. Kit too feigned something like shock as he straightened up to look at his sister. She was a tiny genius.

“Did you hear that?” Tessa half-squealed at Kit. It was so unlike the composed and sensible Tessa he’d come to know that it was almost funny. “She said her first word! Come on, Cecy. Let’s go and show Dada. Say it again, sweetheart. Say ‘Mama’.”

Kit sunk onto the sofa in relief. His secret was safe. One day, he’d repay her for this, tell her this story with a smile and a ‘thank you’. For now, he’d shower her with kisses and love - as he always would - and hope she kept her unspoken promise.

#kitty #KITTY FIC #jessa #jessa baby #jem carstairs #jem and tessa #tessa gray #Tessa and jem #james carstairs #tda #qoaad #fanfic #jessa fanfic #jessa fic #fic #kit herondale #kit and ty #ty and kit

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beclynn-herondale · 3 years

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Part 3 of inside TMI Gang's diaries

Clary: Dear diary, I may have blown up a ship, mom won't be happy when she hears about it, also there's a woman who says she knows how to wake my mom up, but I have to go to Idris. And Jace that bish left without me, and so I made a portal, Luke followed me, luke is mad at me. Anyways, I also met Luke's sister she is nice, gotta find Jace tho, he is gonna be sorry when I find his ass. Trying to protect me, I can protect myself, also I gotta save my mom.

*Later *

Dear diary I am back, Jace was just an absolute ass to me, sometimes I think he does it on purpose to make me hate him. But I am not going back, like he wants, this is something I have to do. Also this guy Sebastian he has something oddly familiar about him idk, he seems nice tho, and he has been the only welcoming one really here, so far. He's gonna help me find Ragnor the Warlock, to get the spell to wake my mom up. Oh, and Luke is gone, I wonder when he'll be back. I wish I had some coffee right now .

Jace: Dear diary, why, why, why, why does this stuff keep happening?, Clary needs to be safe but she keeps not listening, I can't keep her safe if she keeps running after dangerous things, oh wait is this how everyone feels about me? Maybe I am the problem? Idk anyway, Simon is here too now I gotta keep two people safe ughhhhhh, cause if I don't keep Simon safe Clary will be upset, also I was a total ass to Clary earlier and she probably hates me now, tho I guess that's a good thing. Anyway I don't trust this Sebastian guy. And my is angel knows where, Alec is distant lately, Izzy is Izzy, Max idk what he thinks of me anymore, it's funny how things can fall apart so easily huh? But hey I still look good right, hahahahahahaha, *screaming internally*

Alec: Dear diary, how did things get so complicated? Where did we go wrong? Also Magnus isn't returning my calls, that sucks. Clary is here and Jace is freaking out, Simon should be back in new york now, Izzy is idk, Max doesn't know what's going on. Magnus hasn't called me back. Sebastian seems suspicious and I don't like him that much, he seems like a nice guy but there's just something about him. Jace is probably off punching another window or getting himself into danger, honestly when will he stop this? Him and Clary are just hurting each other at this point and it's becoming unbearable. And I am afraid for Jace, nobody knows how fragile he is in ways, but I do. I need to call Magnus again, I need to talk to someone. Anyway stuff has gone to hell and I am tired.

Magnus: Dear diary, these Shadowhunters will be the death of me, and Alec is too caught up in Jace that he doesn't realize that I am serious about him. Honestly Shadowhunters were any dumber I think they would all be dead. and the Alec, my dear Alec you are so oblivious. Also biscuit is here and is gonna cause chaos, she also needs me to work on a spell to wake her mother up, Jocelyn will not be pleased when she finds out all the things little biscuit had been up to, but I can't be bothered with it. Shadowhunters and their drama is never a good thing. Ragnor is dead, I'll have to tell Catarina and Raphael, I am not looking forward to it. But I am sure Valentine will do some messed up stuff before that and knowing his evil doings it's gonna be big, he is terrible and loves to ruin everything. But also maybe I should call Alec back. Or maybe he'll finally make his decision, I honestly don't know why but there's something about this one.

Izzy: Dear diary, why is life throwing so much at us? Everything is a mess and I don't know if things can be fixed after this. also Simon, I still can't figure out why he intrigues me so much, he is idk. Clary is off causing chaos and dragging Jace along with her as usual, honestly that girl, I wish she knew how much distress she is causing Jace. Alec is to blind to see how much he likes Magnus, my brother I love him but his obliviousness is too much, sometimes you want to give him a push but he wouldn't appreciate that. Also who is this Sebastian and why does he seem too nice? Maybe I am just assuming but there's something about him. Valentine will probably be making an attack soon so better be ready for that, and honestly idk know why I am writing this I don't have anything to say, not really, other than I want things to go back to the way they were.

Simon: Dear diary, so first I got dragged along into Idris and now I am stuck in a prison, I may have been kidnapped again, these guys at the gard seem like bad people, I did make a friend tho, his name is Samuel and apparently he was with the circle, honestly Shadowhunters have so many problems, and I keep getting dragged into them. At least Clary is safe, but no one knows I am here, they all think I am back in new york, I am also hungry, vampire stuff, but I won't take blood from these jerks, I won't betray the Lightwoods. I miss normal life before all of this but I guess there's no going back. I wonder if Samuel has any good stories, or if they are all just about how the circle killed people. Maybe I'll just sing to myself in my head, or see if Samuel wants to talk some more.

Church: Dear Cat diary, I am in new york, the Lightwoods are in Idris, still no sign of Jem no matter how many times I call for him to save me from this drama fest, the Herondale is probably off still thinking he is not a Herondale, and probably doing shit for love. Clary is most likely off causing chaos and giving the Clave hell, I actually like the thought they need a good wake up. Alec is still oblivious to the fact that Magnus likes him a lot, honestly just get together already. Simon got dragged into Idris so rip I guess, he'll probably be fine, probably. Isabelle hmm perhaps she is breaking stuff, or maybe she calm who knows she could be either, all I know is she will eventually smash something cause of her frustration at her friends and family. Jem I miss you and I am once again asking you to save me, these kids are the most chaotic, please, they don't think things through. Also I want tuna.

(this one isn't as good as the others but I'll be doing another part for CoG cause there's too much to cover in one post )

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blakemysteries · 5 years

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Nadine Garner on fame, #MeToo, Mr Black and being friends with a young Kylie Minogue

Siobhan Duck, Sunday Herald Sun June 1, 2019 10:53pm

Nadine Garner has seen and heard plenty during her three-plus decades in showbiz.

When she was 14, co-star Kylie Minogue introduced her to the music of Prince, the Violent Femmes and Donna Summer on the set of their TV series The Henderson Kids and turned her on to fashion with regular excursions to Melbourne’s Camberwell Sunday Market.

For her second movie, Disney’s Bushfire Moon, she worked alongside veteran actor Charles “Bud” Tingwell; she’d later star in a nationwide production of Cabaret for a year as it travelled Australia.

But there are still plenty of tricks to be learned — or even relearned.

Not long ago, Garner, 48, found herself attending workshops on how to conduct love scenes on-screen. In the turbulent and confusing wake of #MeToo, the actors’ union set them up as part of a wider response to the flood of harassment allegations in the entertainment industry.

“An extremely qualified woman was brought out to run courses,” says Garner.

“She told us, ‘Hey, these intimacy scenes, they are just like fight scenes. We need to co-ordinate them and choreograph them — and set down rationally how we are going to execute them.’”

The point, she says, was “to demystify them — and create an open dialogue around them, rather than them being something difficult or shameful”.

The workshops hit close to home for Garner. The ink was barely dry on her contract at the Seven Network for a new series of her hit TV show last year when allegations of sexual harassment were made against her co-star Craig McLachlan. (He is still fighting them in court). Garner with co-star Craig McLachlan in The Doctor Blake Mysteries. Nadine Garner says #MeToo is the beginning of a new way for co-workers to behave across all industries.

Garner emphasises her remarks about #MeToo and the entertainment industry are not in direct reference to McLachlan. But his departure — and Seven’s decision to walk away from the series — was a blow for the single mother of two.

“It was the most I was ever going to be earning,” she says. “I thought, ‘Oh my god … everything is going to turn around!’ But nothing is guaranteed.

“I think we are at the very beginning of a new way of behaving across all industries. And ours needed to be looked at — no doubt. It still does; nothing is fixed here. We still have a systemic vulnerability in our industry for people to be taken advantage of.”

Despite her disappointment over the show’s demise, Garner is supportive of the changes that are starting to take place: “If you’ve got a menace in the workplace (it needs to be dealt with). And I know many actors who have had to work with menaces, and had to continue to walk into work doing nudity or love scenes with an actor who was harassing them — stalking them outside of the workplace, talking about how turned on they are when they do scenes … It’s very complex for actors, because we are putting ourselves in really vulnerable positions that other people aren’t.” Garner says she has never courted fame.

Garner has a clear disinterest in having people believe her life is glamorous just because she is on film and TV screens, and she has steadfastly refused to play the fame game all along.

“I think there is a pressure on us to present as though we are having the lifestyle of our American cohorts,” she says.

“And we are really not. I can assure you my life is as complex and stressful as everyone else’s. In fact, I don’t have the financial security of most people; I have maybe bursts of income and then nothing. There’s a misconception that anyone in the public eye is having this easy life. That is not my experience — and it’s certainly not the experience of all my peers in film and TV and theatre.”

Despite the financial pressure and difficulties juggling the needs of her sons Edan, 13, and Jem, 10, Garner doesn’t regret her decision to be an actor — even if she never felt it was her calling.

She landed the role of fresh-faced Tamara Henderson on The Henderson Kids — her first major role — in 1985 after she attended an open-casting call. The show would end up making her a household name. 1985: Garner (left) with co-star Kylie Minogue on the set of The Henderson Kids.

And it wasn’t just Garner who got her big break on The Henderson Kids. The show also featured Kylie Minogue, Ben Mendelsohn and Jane Hall.

“There were some very astute casting decisions made,” reflects Garner. “It was magic, really. You can’t orchestrate that. Kylie seemed cool to me because she was three years older — that’s a lot when you are a kid. She was very grown up, very worldly at that age already.”

She has been reunited with another former co-star — Stephen Curry — on the set of her latest series, the Network 10 comedy Mr Black.

“I had a massive crush on Nadine when she was on The Henderson Kids,” Curry tells Stellar.

“I used to fantasise about being on the show with her. We first worked together on The Secret Life Of Us. She played a paraplegic and I was her nurse. We had to kiss and, while I kept it professional on the exterior, my inner 10-year-old was doing backflips.”

Series creator Adam Zwar says Garner — who plays Rowena, a woman with a new lease on life after her divorce from Curry’s embittered character — was an obvious choice for the role. Garner with Stephen Curry (left) and Nick Russell in Mr Black. The cover of the latest issue of Stellar, in today’s Sunday Herald Sun.

Like her TV counterpart, Garner is finding her feet after splitting with the father of her boys. “For those who don’t know her, Nadine is a deep thinker,” says Zwar. “She’s an individual. She is not part of any social or intellectual clique. She makes her own mind up about things.”

Zwar says a comedian who filmed a guest role on the show serenaded Garner with The Henderson Kids theme song — and she didn’t bat an eye.

“I guess she’s been part of our lives for so long, she’s used to extreme and emotional reactions from people.”

Garner has her own take on it. “I don’t think the fame that I had was ever really out of control,” she says.

“I could still function and have a life. I wasn’t a celebrity. Really, really big stars like Macaulay Culkin — that kind of surreal, catapulting-you-into-another-stratosphere kind of fame, where the ego goes into crisis and you’re no longer sure where the ground is — I never had that.

“I still had all the same issues as any person, with just a smattering of recognition here and there. I had a couple of pretty nasty experiences in public places where people tried to punch me up; kids who thought it was funny.

“It wasn’t like, ‘Wow, this is so glamorous’. It was a bit scary. So I found the whole fame thing kind of confronting; I have never courted fame.

“If there’s a red carpet and they try to get me on it, I run around the back!”

Mr Black airs 8.40pm Tuesdays on Network 10

Originally published as The unglamorous life of Nadine Garner

#tdbm #nadine garner #articles

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mutantsrisingrpg · 4 years

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Congratulations, DEL! You’ve been accepted as IO.

Del, I didn’t want to stop reading your app, and honestly? I’m a little mad that it had to end. But that makes me all the more excited to see you continue Cain’s journey on the dash! When it came to Cain’s bio, I really felt that you nailed the dichotomy between healing and hurting that was central to his skeleton. I especially loved the way he saw his abilities as curse-like at first, and how he’s been able to separate what his hands can do versus what they want to do. If Cain punched me, I’d thank him.

Welcome to Mutants Rising! Please read the checklist and submit your account within 24 hours.

Out of Character Information:

NAME/ALIAS: Del.

PRONOUNS: they/them

AGE: 24

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: HST. Tbh about a 7...maybe a 6. I'm in classes and a full time internship so I can be a bit slow but I always try to keep my activity up as best as I can!

In Character Information:

DESIRED ROLE: CAIN

GENDER/PRONOUNS: he/him

DETAILS & ANALYSIS:

So when I was reading some tips for Cain I accidentally misread it as “fists born to heal” and I really ran with that idea for a hot minute and a half.

For me, Cain is like a baseball bat to the face. He's blunt and brutal and effective. He isn't interested in politics or the nuanced exchange of power and intrigue that weave through the city like a web. He's a simple man. He has simple desires. He wants to hit stuff that pisses him off. He wants to protect the people he cares about. Thats the entire reason he sticks with the Jem Family, because being a mutant fucking sucks and that's society's fault, so fuck society.

I really want a Cain who is very straightforward. If some people are...layered ...like onions, then Cain is the type of person who’s more like a rock. Try to peel back his layers and you will accomplish only two things: 1) fucking up your hands real bad, and 2) realizing that there’s nothing underneath. With Cain, what you see is what you get. And what you get is a man who is perpetually angry and probably wants to fight you.

He is aggressive and he is angry at both a micro and a macro level and he is willing to shake the city down the bedrock if that’s what it will take to beat some sense into people. He’s not interested in maintaining peace or compliance as tensions in the city rise higher and higher. He doesn’t want to hurt people who don’t deserve to be hurt but he’s willing to do what he needs to do (though I think it’ll be interesting as conflicts and events arise to explore how willing Cain actually is to make sacrifices and see collateral damage happen). Cain wants to see the world change and he doesn’t mind if it burns a little first. I fully believe that he’ll be a big mover and shaker and shit instigator.

BIOGRAPHY:

The anger is with him all along.

It's a cyclical kind of story. His father’s father meets some poor woman, makes a baby with her, and leaves. Over two decades later his father does the same thing. This time he clears out their joint bank account before he disappears.

Cain hates his grandfather and his father. He hates that part of them is part of him, buried in his blood and his bones. They ruin his life and neither of them stick around to see it happen. The older he gets the more of his father he will see in the mirror, and the angrier he will become.

His ma is a good woman. She is a good mother. She doesn’t deserve to be married to his deadbeat, chickenshit father.

Cain adores her. She does her best. She doesn't complain when his father leaves, she doesn't even resent him for being such a shitty husband. When it becomes clear that his time out on the road is the type of time out on the road that never ends, she just sighs a deep, sad sigh from the middle of her chest. Cain will always remember that sigh, the way it sounds. It is like a reverse Pandora's box' all the hope emptying out of her at once and leaving only the bad shit behind.

She has a kid to raise and she does it without complaint. She works herself to the bone to keep him warm and keep him fed. She cleans for a living. The work is hard and the pay is shit. The hours are long. Cain spends a lot of nights waiting for her to come home. She comes back sore and tired and aching. Sometimes she is barely able to stand. Cain learns how to help as quickly as he can. Maybe this is where the healing starts; him and his mother, his hands running over her back, knuckles digging into the knots of tight, angry, wrong, and digging into them until they slowly break apart.

All of the cards are stacked against him as a kid. for most of his childhood he is a shrimp with no father. He is a dirt poor. His mother works all of the time. He's not that smart and he's not that friendly. He is at the very bottom of a very long social food chain. He gets into fights often and he is destined to lose most of them. A lot of his time is spent getting hit. He uses up the rest crying, hot angry tears in his room, alone. He makes few friends. As soon as he's old enough to fake fourteen, and even a little before that, he works. He rides newspaper routes and scrubs dishes and fixes cars and mows lawns and does anything anybody tells him to as long as it will get him paid.

There's no magical thirteenth year for Cain. He never goes away for summer and comes back gigantic. Growing up is a slow, laborious process that ticks by in centimeters and inches. There's a time where he's small and scrawny and always picking fights and always losing them. Then he starts losing them less. Eventually he isn't losing any at all. His bullies start to look small and scrawny themselves and they start to leave him alone unless there's enough of them that they think they can all gang up on him at once, but after awhile even those fights are ones that Cain can win.

That’s about when he starts to get paid to fight. This time he gets to fight in a ring. He’ll never get his chance at becoming a boxer or some MMA jackass but he’ll come pretty close. There’s no star power in Cain. He’s an angry, ragged son of a bitch. He’s got the charisma of a fly. People don’t like him much on principal. No one is ever glad to see him win a fight except maybe his mother. But you don’t have to be well liked to win, and Cain does win. He wins a lot. Eventually people start to show up to watch him fight.

That’s how he finds his father again.

Chicago is a big city. It's the kind of place where you can meet someone and never see them again for a decade, maybe two if you didn't get out much.

He’s just finished a fight in some seedy arena on the west side of town. He’s won in a single, brutal knock out and some people are excited about that but most people are pissed off that there wasn’t more of a show. Cain’s ignoring whatever the fuck people are yelling at him and Cain is just tryign to leave so he can peel of his dumbass shorts in the bathroom and go home.

And there’s a man in the crowd in front of him. He’s staring at him. Cain stares back.

He is older than Cain remembers, and he is shabbier. There’s a beer gut where there wasn’t one before and his arms are thinner. His face is lined with wrinkles and his teeth are yellow. A few are missing. If Cain were anyone else he might not recognize him

But a boy always knows his father and a man always remembers someone he hates.

This is what he remembers in that moment as his hands curl up into fists. He is a kid. He is watching his mama make some calls. She’s asking around to see if anyone has seen his father. He knows what she knows but refuses to admit. No one has seen him. No one has heard from him in days. He is gone and he is not coming back.

Eventually she dials that bank. Cain isn’t really sure what she’s talking about but he knows that it’s not good. His mother’s face goes pale and her lips go tight and thin and she nods along to whatever the man on the other line is saying even though it’s clear she’s not listening to him anymore.

She says her goodbyes in a tight, polite voice. It only shakes a little at the very end. Then she hangs up and she sighs that sigh. It’s going to stay with him all his life. His father leaving doesn’t destroy his mother. It just hollows her out. That’s worse in Cain’s opinion.

He is only 12. But even 12 year olds can want to kill people. He swears that if he ever sees his daddy again, he’s going to beat him dead.

In 15 years the anger is still there, pure and white hot. It will always be there. It will always be waiting.

He jumps out of the ring in one easy lunge and then he’s on top of his dad. He’s punching him in the face. The man spits blood and broken teeth. Cain is hitting him again and again and again and again. His hands feel hot, unnaturally so, like something other than his own blood is heating them up from the inside. Beneath him his father bleeds and spits out more teeth and groans and still Cain beats him. No amount of beating will ever be enough for him and he knows this. He knows he’s going to murder his father on this floor and he knows it will make his mother cry. He hates that these things are going to happen and he accepts them anyway. This is what needs to be done. This is what his father deserves.

He grips his father’s head in his hot, hot hands and he spits in his face.

It takes six guys to drag Cain off of his father. There aren’t enough inside the bar to do it. He knocks three out when they try. But eventually the police show up and there are enough of them. Cain is a big guy and he’s strong and he’s tough but even big strong, tough guys don’t do well when they get tazed.

They drag him outside and they shove him into a cop car and the last thing Cain sees of his father is a man, covered in blood, pulling himself off the floor with shaking arms.

He disappears before anyone has a chance to ask if he wants to press charges. Cain isn’t surprised.

Three aggravated assault and battery charges are enough to put him away for a long time, though. The sentencing is actually lighter than what he expects. Weirdly enough, despite the bloody crime scene and Cain’s size and all the witnesses who were sure they saw Cain beating his father to death, there’s no serious injuries to speak of. He hears down the legal grapevine that his father walked away that night, and that the guys who tried to pull him off didn’t even need trips to the hospital. Cain had bloodied their noses but somehow neither of them were broken. Miraculously, his public defender tells him. They all claim that they’re feeling better than ever.

Cain sits and listens to him. There’s a tick in his jaw that won’t go away, an angry jump of muscle as he grinds his teeth.

His mother does cry when he’s sentenced. He’s not happy to see that.

When he’s back in his cell, alone, he drives his fist into the wall hard enough to split the skin of his knuckles

His hands feel hot. His knuckles hurt but they stop hurting very quickly. When Cain turns them over to see, he watches his skin knit slowly back together, closing over the open wound until it looks as if there were never a wound there at all. Cain stares. He swallows. He hits the wall again, hard, in the same place. He watches blood drip from his hand and then he watches the dripping stop. The same thing happens again.

Oh, he thinks to himself. Oh fuck.

Prison is a lot like being a kid again, except his mother isn’t there to comfort him when he gets into fights or when he crawls into his bed to bleed. Everyone wants to get a piece of the new guy, especially since half the time somebody gets into a fight with Cain, none of their injuries ever really seem to take. Cain puts his hands on them. He lays them out and he holds them down and he hits them again and again and again and they hurt and they bleed and they get back up afterwards feeling fine.

He hates his powers at first. He wants to be able to beat the shit out of people the same way he has for years but the moment to hands get hot it's over. Nothing he does is really going to hurt his opponent. Sometimes they leave the fights looking better than when they came in.

It doesn't take long for his prison mates to learn what he is. It doesn't take much longer for the warden to get wind of it too.

And that is how Cain Douglas finds himself moved from Cook Corrections to Hornsbury Prison for mutants.

If Cook Corrections was prison then Hornsbury is something below it, something sub-prison where men and women aren't allowed to feel even the slightest bit human. It's the type of place that’s not even trying to pretend it's here to fix you. It's here to break you and it wants you to know it's here to break you, all that guards, all the wardens, and most of the prisoners all want you to know you're here to be broken.

He's roughed up by a couple guards in the first week. Thanks to his power not much of what they do to him manages to stick, but not much of what he does to them manages to stick either.

After that they just throw him in the hole for insubordination. It's cold in that dark, empty concrete room. It smells of the piss and fear sweat of the last guy they had in there.

He spends a lot of time in that hole. He will never admit it to anyone. But sometimes he is afraid he will die in there, all alone.

He gets out eventually. Maybe it is for good behavior. Maybe it’s because people realize that Cain can win fights but he can never end them. His hands are harmless and by extension, so is he.

There’s no job waiting for him when he gets out. He’s just spent five years in prison. Two of them were in Hornsbury. Everyone in his part of town knows about what he did to his father and worse, they know that he’s a mutant.

The first night Cain spends back in his home, someone sets fire to his mother’s front lawn.

He packs up and leaves the next day. He loves his mother. This will always be true. But he won’t stick around her if it puts her at risk.

And then there’s really nowhere for him to go but the Jem Family. He’s heard of them, before prison, but he never cared about it before becoming a mutant. He doesn’t care much about it when he first arrives either. It could have been any gang as they gave him a warm place to sleep and some food to eat. Cain isn’t picky. Unfortunately the Jem Family and Damien have a way of creeping under his skin. They’re good people. They care about people, about mutants. And they care about Cain, which more than he can say for just about everyone else in Chicago except for his mother. They give him food to eat and a place to sleep and pay him money he can send to his mother every month.

They help him learn how to control his powers. They give him back a part of himself he thought was lost forever. Thanks to the Jem Family, he gets to decide what, when and who he’s healing. He also gets to decide what and when and who he’s hurting and honestly, he’s a little more thankful for that than the former. He starts to be happy that his power is what it is. He gets to help people that he cares about. He starts to care about helping people at all.

It was easy not to care about mutants when he wasn’t one. It was easy to ignore the way they were treated.

But that’s not something Cain has the luxury of doing anymore. He sees how much people hate them. How afraid they are. He’s seen it in the scorch marks on his mother’s lawn, and in Hornsbury. He sees it now more than ever as everyone in the city starts to pick a side. It pisses him the fuck off.

This city has needed the shit kicked out of it for a long fucking time and with the gan’s finally uniting, now is as good a time as any to land the first blow.

EXPANDED CONNECTIONS:

DANA RAMONE,

HE IS JEALOUS. He’s learned to appreciate his power but that by no means means that Cain like, likes being a healer. He’d much rather have something crazy and violent and powerful to use and he would definitely be kinda salty at Dana depending on their attitude towards their power. I also think it’d be neat to explore (mun willing of course) how he feels about her lack of control because he’s struggled with that before. If there’s a warmer relationship between them I can totally see Cain maybe trying to work them with them on control because he knows what it’s like to always feel a little bit incompetent in your own body.

But y’know. If they don't’ talk that’s fine by him b-baka.

JACKSON RAEMERS,

What Cain feels about Jackson is very similar to what an older sibling feels for an annoying younger sibling. He doesn’t want them seriously injured or hurt. He cares about them deep down. But if Cain went a whole week without seeing Jackson it would be the best week of his fucking life. I think Cain would be big on just shaming them for bing such a klutz and if they come in for really superficial injuries may just make them go deal with it themselves.

LUKE ESPINOSA,

So I read on Luke’s own relationship description that they’d probably totally destroy Cain if they were allowed to use their powers on him. I want Cain to be like, very , very aware of that and totally pissed off by it. He’s not sure what makes him more angry, knowing that Luke thinks he could beat the shit out of him or knowing that it's true. He doesn't like losing. He never has. And he doesn’t like knowing that the only reason he wins against Luke is because Luke is giving him a huge handicap by not using his powers. It makes his blood boil and that definitely comes out in the way he fights with him and just deals with him in general. I’d love it if these two just sniped at each other all the time and def got into all sorts of dumb, non-competitions outside the ring to try and prove who’s the best without bringing powers into it. I’m talking some anime rivalry type shit.

EXTRA: PINTEREST! NATCH! https://www.pinterest.com/bellydeli/mootants/he-hits-stuff/

#accepted #accepted: io

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