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wecantseeyou · 3 years

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a word on color - how line of duty series 6 uses wardrobe color to frame narrative (pt 4)

Author’s note: this is the conclusion to my essay on wardrobe color and how it’s used to inform narrative in series 6 of line of duty. Previous parts can be found here: Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3. This part covers episodes 5, 6, and 7. Heads up, my analysis of episode 7 is actually quite short because of my focus on Jo, but I have many, MANY thoughts on Kate’s second to last scene and the general wardrobe choices for Kate in this episode.

Thank you to everyone who has been willing to entertain my ramblings here. While I have a background in theatrical production, this kind of meta analysis was quite new for me. I was relieved to see (most) of this theory actualized in the finale. Now, this part is nearly 8k words, all four parts together clocked in at over 20k words and nearly 40 pages, single-spaced, so I’ve officially written a third dissertation (after the other two took me 10 months…).

Regular warnings apply: I’m American and therefore may be missing certain cultural context. Spoilers abound, but I stick to Jo’s storyline for the most part, and don’t include my thoughts about the finale writ large (I may write an analysis of the series 6 storytelling separate from this, if there’s interest).

Read on below the cut.

EPISODE 5

Episode 5 opens with Lomax briefing Jo and Kate about connections between the armed robbery and Gail Vella's murder, showing them results for an industrial estate that matches the description given by one of the robbers. Jo is wearing the same outfit she ended episode 4 in, the orangish brown sweater and navy suit, while Kate is wearing a grey jacket over a white shirt, buttoned all the way up. A side note - this grey jacket does not fit in with the rest of the wardrobe Kate has been in all series, and from a meta perspective, this is because they have to conceal the firearm Kate is now carrying. Ryan watches from the other room, again in a call back to the way Jo was watching Kate in episode 3. Kate tries to talk to Jo, but she's quickly brushed off, much to Kate's chagrin.

Jo’s outfit, which we’ve seen her in numerous times, again demonstrates her pull between what’s right and pressure from the OCG. After all, Ryan has just threatened her twice. She knows that the investigation is heading in the right direction, which she both wants and is afraid of, and she is panicking. At the same time, she’s wary of letting Kate get too close lest she suspect something and acts on it, putting them both in danger.

Kate’s outfit actually shows some of that forced distance Jo is causing. We’ve seen her wear a white shirt buttoned all the way to the top once before - when she spoiled the raid of MIT by AC-12. That outfit showed her pull between Jo and AC-12, and we’re seeing that here again. This time though, the grey jacket shows that she’s leaning AC-12.

We see this in the next scene where Steve, in his grey suit with a white shirt and red tie, is directly paralleling his former partner’s wardrobe. Kate visits AC-12, and it's been revealed that she has permission to carry a concealed firearm because of the threat Ryan Pilkington poses. Now, call me crazy, but I believe we’re meant to understand he’s a threat to her at least in part because of her relationship to Jo, but I’m uncertain. When Ted asks for an update, Kate notes that Jo has become "cold and distant" toward her, and the team reveals Jo has been put under surveillance, which Kate isn't happy about. It's then revealed that Jo is related to Tommy Hunter (from series 1 and 2) through incest, which is of course horrifying, though we don’t know the full story of it quite yet.

Back at her apartment, Jo checks the laptop to find out the OCG won't let her go because of AC-12's continued investigation, which she promises to take care of. She’s surrounded by her blue flat, in her navy and orange outfit, her actions and heart still at conflict with one another. She’s distraught, and stuck.

Later, Kate and Steve meet in an underground car park in their matching navy coats. Steve shares that Lakewell gave him information off the record, which is that Gail Vella had been looking into the death of Lawrence Christopher at the time of her death. He also tells Kate about his discovery that Hastings gave Steph Corbett the missing $50k of supposed bribe money (from series 5). The former partners match here because they are coming closer to being full partners again, working in tandem and trusting one another with information. They have been at odds this series, particularly when it comes to Jo, but they have remained on the same page in their disappointment in the gaffer and belief in finding justice for Gail Vella.

Back at MIT, Kate is looking into the industrial parks that may hold an OCG workshop. As she researches, she repeatedly looks over at Jo in her office and seems to have an idea. She then steps out of the office and calls Steve, though we don’t see the details of their conversation. Kate returns to the office and goes into Jo's office, telling her that they may have found the OCG workshop. She asks to brief the team immediately to avoid leaks, which Jo allows while glancing out at the bullpen. We can see once Kate leaves that she was looking at Ryan, who is watching her closely.

We don't know it yet, but Kate has found a way to test Jo’s loyalty and her belief that Jo isn’t bent. She tells the team about 1 location, makes them hand up their phones (which pisses them all off), and Jo makes them all stay within the MIT offices just as Ryan is about to step out. As the briefing ends, Kate goes to Jo’s office once more and demands to speak with her, despite Jo’s rude and annoyed response.

It’s later revealed that Kate then tells Jo there are 3 total locations to be looked at, but they’re starting with just one. Meanwhile, AC-12 surveillance teams are stationed at all three locations to see if people are tipped off and by who.

In these scenes, Kate is wearing a navy suit with a light blue shirt buttoned to the top, while Jo is wearing a grey suit with a grey turtleneck. For both women, the high necklines that fully encircle their throats indicates their discomfort and their desire to have a wall up for their own protection. We see Kate in all blue as she’s on a crusade to prove the truth - Jo isn’t bent, and this will reveal who is (as she suspects Ryan). Jo, meanwhile, is uncertain, and her monochrome grey outfit reflects that. Normally, this is the type of thing she would be expected to tip off to the OCG (as she did with Carl Banks), but Kate has cleverly made it so she can’t. She’s trying to push Kate away, but Kate keeps pushing herself right back in. She’s meant to be wary of Ryan, but she stopped him from an opportunity to send out a warning - and that’s before she knew there were three potential locations. All Jo knows is that she wants out from this lie and constant threat she’s lived under. She’s in all grey, not true blue but certainly not a warm tone, because she hasn’t decided what her next step is yet. Temporarily neutral.

The initial raid is not a success, so Jo informs the team that they'll move on to the other locations instead, revealing that she and Kate did not give them all of the information. Lomax is pissed off, and directs that anger at Kate. From his perspective, the boss just told them she doesn’t trust him or the team and treated them all like a potential rat, and he chalks that up to the former AC-12 officer’s involvement. In an interesting parallel, Jo and Kate are wearing the same outfits under their body armor that we saw them in during the raid in the first episode - Jo in her black jacket and Kate in her green jacket.

During this raid, Ryan snuck out to call in the danger to the OCG from a burner phone, an act which was recorded by Chloe “the only real detective” Bishop. Steve, at the real OCG workshop, rushes in with his team which results in the deaths of two suspects. Jo and the MIT team arrive on the scene not long after, and Jo and Steve come to disagreement over jurisdiction, and she ultimately forces him to stand down using her rank (which we’ll see her flex once more later in the episode). I have to say, I have loved watching Jo and Steve come to blows in this series in part because Jo is so much better at it than he is. Steve truly has been Jo’s foil, contradicting her at every point. We see this even in their clothes in this scene. While Jo is wearing a grey turtleneck (typically in the AC-12 color palette), it is hidden under her black jacket, and Steve is wearing a blue shirt under his body armor. On the visual face, they appear to be working at opposite ends to one another, and in this moment they are.

Back at AC-12, Kate debriefs the team on what happened and let's them in on the honey trap* (*not really) Kate set for Jo, which she didn't fall for (but Pilkington did). The team is taken aback, and Hastings points out how risky a move that was. "As far as I'm concerned, that's proof she's not bent," Kate replies, stubborn to the end. Steve has a different interpretation - Jo assigned herself to the raid on the location with the workshop, and took control of the crime scene from him. "That doesn't fit with what I've witnessed firsthand. I needed to know one way or another." Kate will not back down from her staunch belief that Jo is not bent, an unfortunate foreshadow to Jo’s eventual betrayal. Hastings sides with Steve, but Kate clearly still disagrees. However, Steve does believe Ryan should be removed from MIT, even as Hastings wants to keep him there. This raises their suspicions because Kate had originally talked the gaffer out of bringing Ryan in, but the reality of the matter is that Ted feels he’s on a ticking clock with his forced retirement, and wants to handle this fourth man situation before he goes.

Kate and Steve are again in coordinated outfits here, dressed head to toe in blue. We’ve seen this before, the former partners in clothes that parallel one another while seemingly at odds. Sadly, this is because they’re again both right about Jo. She is using her position (and even Kate’s trust) to manipulate the investigation, but that manipulation stems from fear for her own safety as she herself is being manipulated and doesn’t want to do what she’s done. She’s like a cat stuck in a box - bent and not bent.

On the Hill, Kate gives the team the low down on the OCG warehouse and their next steps. Jo congratulates the team and tells them to get to work collecting forensic evidence while Pilkington sends laser eyes her way. This time it’s Kate wearing a turtleneck, this one in black under an olive suit jacket, while Jo wears a grey suit with a grey-green sweater and a blue shirt buttoned all the way to the top. Again, the high necks of these outfits demonstrate the discomfort and reservedness both women are feeling, but we also see a subtle connection with the green tints of their clothes. As usual, green represents the pull between two different compelling interests. For Kate, the pull between Jo and AC-12, for Jo the pull between Kate and the OCG.

Wearing these same outfits, Jo catches up with Kate outside of Hillside, where she confronts her about AC-12's knowledge of the raids. Kate tells her she tipped them off because they're making a lawful inquiry. "Look, I'm telling you the truth Jo, because I trust you with it." Jo takes advantage of Kate sharing the information with AC-12 and tells Kate to put in a transfer request, saying, "I wouldn't want to harm your career, Kate. It's best if you request a transfer." Kate is taken aback and asks "You've been distant with me for days. Is this personal?" Jo denies this, pulling rank the same way she did with Steve, "I'm your senior officer, I should be distant." Kate seems confused and concerned with her response of "But I thought we were friends. What's happening here?" And here we see Jo’s fear crack through her irritation, just for a moment, when she says, "So you can tell AC-12?" As much as Jo is pushing Kate away in order to get her out of the picture, she also has a real fear that Kate continuing to share information with Steve will get Jo killed. She’s playing up Kate’s betrayal to explain her anger, but she’s also hurt and she wants her to know that. Jo trusts Kate, even if she doesn’t trust her enough to tell her the truth on her own. Up until this point, Kate has worked with her and told her about AC-12’s work, even helping her get a leg up on Steve. Now Kate’s helping AC-12 get a leg up on her.

But Kate is nothing if not determined. "No, I wouldn't tell them personal stuff." Kate refuses to take the transfer, and Jo leaves in frustration and anxiety, leaving Kate confused yet again.

Back at Jo's flat, she's on the OCG laptop again. She tells the user she can handle AC-12, but they claim she can't because of Fleming. Jo tries to ask for more time to sort it, but time's up. "Get rid of her." Get rid of Kate, the last person Jo trusts, the one who just broke her trust.

And here is Jo’s betrayal. "As long as it's my last job." She looks devastated after she sends it, and she is. What she’s about to do is unforgivable. But scared and vulnerable people often do unforgivable things to save themselves. Jo just wants to be free, and she’s willing to pay a price for freedom.

Steve, in his iconic grey suit and navy tie, goes to visit Ian Banks in prison and learns that Ted is the one that disclosed John Corbett's identity that later got him killed. He later calls Kate to tell her the news. Matching Steve, Kate is in a navy shirt, but is wearing a black suit, only the second time we’ve seen her in this suit. The first was in episode 2, when she gave Jo the information about AC-12 and they later had dinner together.

Kate heads back into Hillside after her conversation with Steve and runs into Jo in the hallway, who asks to meet with her outside of work to discuss their 'personal issues'. Jo specifically looks at officers further down the hall to confirm they're leaving before speaking to Kate. She also lowers her voice at her own mention of personal issues, adding an extra layer of privacy to an already empty hall.

Checking to make sure there alone is something that Jo and Kate have done frequently throughout this series. In the handhold scene, they break apart when officers step into the hall. They mention how it’s easier to talk outside of work during both of their dinner scenes. When Kate tells Jo about Ryan’s spying, she dismisses Chris first, and later in that conversation when Jo puts her hand on Kate’s arm, they pull apart when they hear officers approaching.

Kate is surprised at Jo’s sudden change in behaviour from the past few days, but she agrees to meet with Jo after work. As Jo walks away, Kate clearly knows that something is up with her, but seems willing to find out what it is when they speak.

What Kate is sadly unaware of is that Jo walks away to lock herself in the bathroom and have a breakdown, distraught at the machination she has set in motion against Kate. Her hand shakes as she locks the stall, she falls to the ground, she looks around desperately for salvation. Jo’s mask, one that she maintains so strictly, falls for just a moment (not dissimilar to her breakdown in her car after framing Farida). Thirty seconds in a toilet stall to breakdown, to think about the consequences of her actions, about what she’s done to Kate. But she takes a few deep breaths, wipes away her tears, and we watch as her mask slips back into place.

Back at AC-12, Chloe “my back is worse than Steve’s from carrying this investigation” Bishop has uncovered more about the racist gang that attacked Lawrence Christopher, including the investigators, Buckells and the current Chief Constable. This was the story Gail Vella was looking into when she was murdered, and appears to be the reason for her death. Steve is wearing the same grey suit and navy tie as when he spoke with Kate, and while he’s grateful for Chloe for digging everything up, he’s also concerned that the young Black woman had to learn so many details about the lynching of a young Black man. [Note: to be incredibly clear, the death of Lawrence Christopher as described by the script was a lynching, and the narrative did not do enough to reckon with that fact for anything more than relevance to the global racial justice uprisings reborn in late May of 2020. More than willing to discuss this further if anyone cares for my thoughts.] As they discuss the case, Patty Carmichael walks in with gusto (and damn if that voice isn't an incredible acting choice). She’s taking over AC-12, and she’s cancelling the surveillance on Jo and Ryan.

That night, Kate arrives at Frederico's to meet Jo, who calls her the moment she’s locked her car to ask to meet somewhere less public, for claims of privacy. Kate is immediately on alert, especially after her attempts to convince Jo to stick with the original plan. But after a small plea from Jo, she acquiesces, but not without caution. Kate immediately knows something is off - this is not how Jo interacts with her. Little do we know, Pilkington is skulking in Jo's backseat, coaching her actions.

As an aside, this is also the only time we see them meeting out of work while they're both wearing casual clothes, not just the clothes they wore to the office.

Kate drives to the lorry park and calls Steve, because she's both an idiot and a genius. He’s wearing the same suit as before, grey with a navy tie. She learns that surveillance was pulled on Jo and Ryan, and explains Jo's odd behaviour, forwarding him the address. Unfortunately, their conversation is cut short by Carmichael, which immediately sets Kate on high alert and she ends the call. Just as Kate is about to leave, Jo pulls into the lot, and the tension escalates.

Steve receives the address and immediately informs Hastings and Chloe, ordering the team to get a unit ready. The team starts to rush out and Carmichael asks for calm, which Ted isn't gonna do when one of his people is in danger. AC-12 isn’t about to let Kate down.

At the lorry park, a distraught Jo gets out of her car and approaches Kate’s car. Kate tries to convince Jo to go somewhere else, but all Jo can say is that she's sorry. Kate is confused, but that goes away pretty quickly once an armed bent bastard steps out of Jo's car. He gloats to Kate, saying "Jo wanted to give you a way out. Should've put in for that transfer." Kate tries to convince Ryan to put the gun down, that the authorities will find him, but it doesn't work. Which is when Kate makes a gamble - she tells Ryan about the surveillance on him and Jo. Ryan tries to blame Jo for their situation, but she acts none the wiser (even though Kate told her about Ryan’s surveillance in the previous episode).

"Why would she come here otherwise?"

Sure, Jo is playing down her relationship with Kate for Ryan’s sake, but it isn’t quite that simple. Jo doesn't want to believe Kate had any faith in her. She wants to believe she was pretending, because she has no faith in herself. Her reaction does provide enough of a distraction for Kate to be able to pull her own weapon, and the most tense standoff ever begins...

One of the most key color choices of any outfits so far on the show are the clothes Jo and Kate wear to the lorry park where Jo sets up Kate to be killed by Ryan. Jo is wearing her grey coat, a blue sweatshirt, and a red top. Kate is wearing a blue coat, and a blue striped sweater with a band of red in the middle. These two outfits are ultimately the thesis statement between these two women. Jo is wearing red as her last layer, the one closest to her, but is surrounded by cool tones through her sweatshirt and coat. Meanwhile, Kate’s sweater has a stripes of red and orange surrounded by shades of blue.

But it doesn’t matter that Kate is being visually connected to Jo, because Jo is about to be responsible for her death via Ryan ‘the bent bastard’ Pilkington.

EPISODE 6

Nevermind though, no death for our beloved Kate!

Now, I’m going to take the next parts of the episode slightly out of order in order to tackle Kate and Jo together before their ultimate confrontation with Steve and AC-12. First, a run down of the AC-12 crew: Hastings is in full uniform, which represents his ultimate faith in the system, despite the bad actors and groups that try to destroy it. Carmichael is wearing a grey coat, aligning her with anti-corruption, but it’s piped along the edges with red, which shows how she’s opposed to AC-12 (though not necessarily corrupt). Steve is in his classic blue on blue on blue under his body armor, which shows his dedication to justice and also his faith in Kate. Carmichael confronts him directly about Kate’s whereabouts, which he fastidiously denies having any knowledge of, but unfortunately Hastings is forced to admit that Kate was permitted to carry a concealed firearm for safety. Steve doesn’t trust Carmichael, and this is shown back at the office when he tracks what Patty C is up to, mobilizing Hastings when she’s on the move.

At first glance, Kate and Jo’s red and blue outfits read as a visual metaphor for AC-12 closing in on their location, but I posit that these outfits are also indicative of Kate's belief in Jo, despite her anger that Jo has just set up her death. It’s clear at this point that their simple flirty banter from the beginning of the season has evolved into a deeper connection, which is part of what makes Jo’s betrayal so painful - Kate has been on her side the whole time. Jo just didn’t know it. [note: wrote this before the finale so guess who has egg on her face now…]

After a time jump (of nearly two hours, based on someone else’s analysis of time stamps and radio calls), Kate and Jo arrive at Steve's apartment. Jo asks if Steve can be trusted, and Kate leaves no doubt. Jo also asks why the surveillance got pulled, and Kate informs her about the chief and Carmichael. Jo denies having any part of it, but Kate isn't sure if she can believe her given the whole, you know, attempted murder thing. In a desperate bid to prove her loyalty to Kate, Jo asks for her gun, intentionally putting her prints on the murder weapon. Again, their coordinating outfits are the outward manifestation of their connection. Kate, while still angry, seems to accept what Jo is offering to her, but is clearly trying to maintain distance in the moment.

Jo then tries to see if things between them were real, but Kate refuses to entertain the conversation. What Jo is completely unaware of at this point is the lengths to which Kate has gone to prove that Jo isn't bent, up to and including risking a crucial raid on the OCG workshop. To Kate, it's a question that doesn't need to be asked, [the egg on my face remains] but Kate is also in disbelief that Jo would question her feelings when she's the one who was nearly killed by Jo. It’s an inappropriate time to have this discussion, and Kate lets that be known. They find Steve's personal car, a slate grey Mazda because this show is nothing if not subtle with its vehicular choices - even their personal vehicles tie in to their allegiance with AC-12’s mission.

Driving in Steve's car, Jo asks again if Kate was pretending with Jo, and Kate diverts the conversation away from herself. Was Jo lying to her when she hired Kate because she was ex-anti-corruption? No, she was hoping Kate, with her anti-corruption background, would stop her. Would save her, really. They discuss Jo's ongoing work for the OCG, and Jo's fear that she'll be killed if she turns, just like Tommy. She insists that she's not bent and Kate implores her to prove it.

Kate is pissed [for the non-Americans, she’s very angry, not drunk…] in this scene, as she should be. She believed in Jo, she still believes in Jo, but she betrayed her in a major way. And now, when Kate is sticking her neck out for Jo again, she's still too scared to reveal what she knows. Jo does reveal that Tommy was her uncle, and that her father was a bent cop, which of course doesn’t align with what Kate knows. At Kate's further insistence, Jo directs them toward Gail Vella's house, and finally to the old print shop the OCG had used in the past that is across from Terry Boyle’s flat.

Kate and Jo arrive at the print shop, and Jo is finally about to reveal the truth to Kate. This act, coupled with putting her prints on the gun, earns Jo back a little bit of the trust she lost, and this is shown when the two women share the same shot. Most of the scenes between Jo and Kate have been over the shoulder shots where one woman is the primary focus, and this scene pivots to end with both of them together as the focus. This change happens in time with Kate dropping some of her much-deserved hostility toward the other woman.

But before they can step out of the car, flashing lights and sirens appear behind them - they've been found. The fact that they've been tracked shocks Kate, but she spends no time dwelling as she throws the car into drive and speeds away. AC-12 AFOs have set up an intercept point, which Kate ignores in a truly badass handbrake turn, no matter if it makes any sense that they could have possibly known the route Kate would take in order to set up a kind of road block.

Handbrake turn or no, the Mazda has been intercepted and Kate and Jo are stuck. Kate is still confused that they've been found, but Jo knows the jig is up and tells Kate she's going to say she forced her to drive. It isn't until Jo tells her they have no other choice that Kate gets out of the car. Once out, Jo puts her hands up, but Kate refuses. Just then, AC-12 arrives with Carmichael, and Kate is in shock. "Jesus Christ, Steve's in on it" - cut to Jo's panicked face. This is the man Kate said they could trust, and now he's after them too.

What follows is a very tense standoff between the two fleeing detectives and AC-12. Jo surrenders, but Kate refuses. First Carmichael tries, then Hastings (at which point Kate tells Jo she learned some shady stuff about him), and then finally Steve walks up to them. Jo begs Kate to surrender repeatedly, but the DI believes she’s onto her second major betrayal of the night and she isn’t willing to give in that easily. She thought she could trust Jo, and she nearly killed her, and to her mind she trusted Steve and he turned her over to Carmichael.

Kate is prepared to tear him a new asshole, but he swears up and down that he has no idea how they got tracked, he wouldn't do that to her. Once he promises to get the two women into safety, Kate surrenders. As he walks them in, Kate shared Ryan's confession of murder and Jo's clue about the print shop. To the end, Kate believes in justice and will pursue it.

We then see a disillusioned Kate in her all grey Fruit of the Loom being walked into her jail cell. She sits down on the plastic mattress, looking at a total loss.

Later that night, Steve and Hastings are discussing the events of the previous few hours. Steve is in a grey suit with a blue shirt and tie, same as he had been wearing during the chase. The gaffer questions why Steve didn't tell him about Kate, and Steve claims it was to prevent putting him in a difficult position with Patty C, who walks in with the same question. Apparently, the former partners have keys to each other's houses and vehicles, in case of emergency. Carmichael taking Steve's phone would've read to Kate as an emergency. Steve refuses to back down, and she appears to drop it for the moment.

Now, onto Jo’s interrogation. A lot happens in this thirty minute scene, but to boil down to the important points: Jo is wearing her best Fruit of the Loom, stripping her of her identity and any affiliations she has. The lighting in this scene is cold and sterile, completely cool in tone. Steve sits with Carmichael and Hastings on the other side of the table, dressed in a navy suit, white shirt, and red tie.

Something very important to note in this scene is Jo’s reliance on Steve. He speaks with her gently, acknowledges her pain, and encourages her to be truthful even when it is clearly very difficult. She takes Kate’s trust in him at face value and decides to trust him too. His outfit actually reflects this truth. He’s wearing the same red and blue that Kate and Jo wore while they were on the run - blue surrounds the red. As much as Jo is trusting Steve here because of Kate, Steve is being kind to Jo here for the same reason. His partner and friend does the right thing nearly always - if she was willing to go to these lengths to defend Jo, he owes it to her to learn the truth. Nothing exemplifies this more than when the conversation turns to Pilkington’s death.

Jo refuses to answer at first and actually waits for AC-12 to show its hand first. She notices that Steve hesitates when Carmichael instructs him to talk about the evidence regarding Kate's gun, and she realizes this is her in, this is how she can prove herself to Kate once and for all. It's only after this that she claims to have shot Pilkington and completely shifts the blame from Kate to herself. This catches both Steve and Hastings up, and they react in obvious shock, which changes how Hastings treats her through the rest of the interview and cements Steve’s belief in Kate’s trust. Afterwards, she looks to Steve, who nods. He understands what she just did for Kate, and Jo is relieved to see his comprehension. The questioning continues, and Jo only admits to what she can take direct responsibility for, but nothing that involves the larger network.

Once Carmichael and Hastings leave, she quickly turns to Steve and says a desperate "I'm so sorry." Sorry for hiding evidence in Operation Lighthouse. Sorry for framing Farida. Sorry for what she’s done to Kate.

And Steve, gentle when he can be, gives her a kind "Yeah, me too," in reply. I’m sorry you were groomed into the OCG. I’m sorry you were scared for your life. I’m sorry you hurt Kate, too.

Patty C goes to talk to Kate, and lets her know she won't be charged for Ryan's murder - Jo will be. Kate has a look of relief on her face as she processes the information. But Patty C notes Jo isn't firearms trained, and Kate is. She's telling Kate she knows what really happened, and she's letting it slide. This time. Kate is well aware that Carmichael isn’t stupid - she knows Jo was lying and is only letting Kate get away with it because it better serves her interests. Kate is free, and she sighs with relief and the knowledge of what Jo did.

Steve, still in the same outfit from the interview, and Kate, in a navy pea coat and yellow sweater, meet in an underground car park. once she's been released. A quick note on Kate’s coat: I’d love to say there’s a deeper meaning for the shift in her coat, but I genuinely think it’s just because filming was originally in the spring, then was moved to the fall and continued until November, so it was simply colder. The cut and color of the coat are generally the same, despite the style changing.

Steve offers to lend an ear about the shooting, and then Kate asks about Jo's interview. Steve tells her they didn't get enough information out of her, and Kate tells him that Jo told her that her dad was an officer. "She's scared, Steve. After what happened to Tommy, Dot, Lakewell, nevermind John Corbett". Kate’s anger seems to have dissipated at least a little at this point, because here she is, defending Jo by explaining why she wasn’t forthcoming with a lot of information. This is most obvious through her yellow sweater - still affiliated with Jo, even through everything else. Steve lets her know that Jo is in a secure cell with extra monitoring, which seems to appease her. Kate then informs him she's been made SIO at MIT, and will guarantee cooperation with AC-12. Lomax calls Kate, and the two partners are back working together.

Kate and Steve meet Lomax at the OCG workshop, where he goes over the forensic findings so far as MIT’s resident plot reciter. Kate tells him they need to look further, and orders him to dig up the floor, ruining the poor man’s plans for the evening.

Chloe calls Steve with an update on Thurwell. Then we get a weird scene of darkvision Spanish police apprehending Thurwell. Truly hate it. He's dead. It's a deadend. Clever writing, Jed.

The episode ends with Jo in her navy blue jumper being put into her cell at Brentiss. Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee, Lindsay Denton’s besties, walk up threateningly before Jo is led into her cell and the door is shut. I do love the shot here of Jo through the door, caught in a small tight space that’s almost closing in on her.

EPISODE 7

Before I fully jump into Episode 7, please be aware that I am doing a textual analysis. I’m not going to go into the fourth man reveal and its logic or even greater meaning (particularly because I’m looking at this show from a different political context as an American), and I’m not going to speculate on things not seen, at least in this analysis, because the focus is on wardrobe. You can trust I have many thoughts, particularly around race and the writing around female characters, some of which I’ve included but most of which I did not. It took me 9 full days to write everything for this one episode, and was shockingly exhausting. Forgive me if it doesn’t live up to my other ramblings.

We’ll jump right into things. I'm gay but Steve looks so good here in his AC-12 uniform. Anyways, Steve is watching Hastings' old interview with Carmichael about Ian Banks. His concern about Hastings is clear. He’s in pursuit of justice, even if justice puts him up against the gaffer.

Later, Steve and Kate discuss the gaffer and his suspicious behaviour, and he informs her that Ted is slated for retirement. Steve wants to let it go, but Kate refuses. She asks if Steph Corbett knows anything more, and suggests she may be blackmailing Hastings, but Steve is dismissive of it. This causes Kate to raise an eyebrow - oh god Steve's done it again. Steve pleads "It's not like that, mate, it's different," and Kate has never looked more disbelieving and annoyed. She responds, "She's a person of interest,” and their conversation is cut short when Chris calls Kate with an update. Steve is still in his navy suit, and Kate in her yellow sweater. The lack of coordination in these clothes show Kate isn’t quite on the same page as Steve yet, but they’re getting there.

Lomax tells them there was a case found in the floor of the workshop, much like the one holding Gail Vella's computers at the abandoned print shop that Jo led them to. No comment on the OCG’s evidence techniques.

Steve, who kept skipping his occupational health warnings, is in therapy. I didn't cover the OH stuff throughout this analysis since it didn't relate to Jo, but this manages to tie in later so here it is now. It ends in him agreeing to temporarily give up his firearms license. I'm not going to discuss the rest of the meeting, given that Steve seemed to kick his pill addiction and reliance on alcohol and pain relievers to deal with his back pretty damn quickly and it's a storyline of entirely no relevance except as something Ted holds over Steve in a moment of manipulation later. Steve also admits this to Hastings before Occupational Health can tell him. This entire storyline is frustrating. Moving on!

Kate is watching Jo's AC-12 interview at her desk on the Hill, specifically rewinding to parts concerning who Jo believed her father was. She pauses it on a frame of Jo’s face, the terror clear. Kate is dressed in a black suit and a light blue shirt, back on the side of AC-12 and in pursuit of justice, not only with regard to the OCG, but for Gail Vella and Jo.

Steph calls Steve again, and he ignores it, because he's being a bit of a dick. Then he steps out of his car and has a back spasm. This only comes up so Kate can ask about it later and show that Steve, wearing a blue jacket, listened to what she said about getting close to a person of interest. Would truly love to know why Steve parks by an underpass by a river for this scene, but needs must, I guess.

Back at Hillside, another Lomax briefing! Because Chris, Chloe, and sometimes Kate are truly the only people who do any detecting in the entire series!!! Anyways, Chris tells Steve and Kate about the contents of the box under the floor of the workshop. Conveniently, it held four murder weapons (can Jed Mercurio spell deus ex machina?) and neatly tied a bow on Corbett, Bindra, and Vella's deaths, and in a nice series 1 throwback, Jackie Laverty's murder! Kate is wearing a grey turtleneck which coordinates beautifully with Steve’s grey suit, blue tie, and blue shirt. This shows that they’re back on the same page and on the same team, despite their ups and downs this series.

Kate and Steve return to AC-12, where Kate in her new navy pea coat shares that the proceedings against Terry Boyle will be stopped. Except, to my knowledge, Jo already handled that...? They literally made a point of it in her interview. Anyway, Chloe, like Chris, did all the detective work and tells them that the IP of the OCG laptop is in the UK, not Spain as previously believed. Amanda from forensics, the only other person who does any real work, interrupts with a message that shows Jo is about to be targeted. Definitely is spelled wrong. I give up. They feel the need to spell out what JD and BP mean, but spend 3 episodes never explaining what a CHIS is. Sure. Chloe is tasked with finding the fourth man via spelling.

Also I'm truly not being funny by why is Kate on the investigation board in AC-12. Like. What. Was she a suspect? She’s not with the other victims!

A very forlorn Jo in her blue Brentiss jumpsuit is sitting in her prison cell before being collected for transport to Hillside. Jo is very aware that something must be wrong because she’s a damn fine detective. She's mad suspicious as they head out to the van, and lo and behold, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum are on the transport team.

En route to Brentiss, they learn that Lomax and Kate's signatures were forged on the production order for Jo. Meanwhile, Jo is too smart for her own good, and questions the guard during the transport about the requesting officer. Tweedle Dee plays dumb.

And then… nothing happens. They intercepted the van in advance, removed Jo, and planted Steve and Kate on the van. Because Steve is such a great choice what with his being an UNARMED OFFICER AT THE TIME. They arrest everyone. Steve ends up with a gun. Ok.

In an interrogation room, Kate and Steve explain what happened to Jo. Hastings looks on. Kate tells Jo she can apply to witness protection, and that all of her notes will show that she was under coercion from others, giving her a shot at the life she never had, but only if she reveals who the top man is, aka her father. Jo begins to cry, and Steve reminds her those OCG men were sent to kill her - this man doesn't care for her. Jo begins to tell them that she had no reason to believe Tommy was lying to her, all while speaking only to Kate. Steve encourages her further, telling her she's not bent. Kate asks her one last time for the name, and we see Jo resolve to say something before the scene cuts. Heaven forbid we show something happening instead of faking built suspense.

Now, I need to pause here for a small moment of rage. Kate should have been the one who got the call back line by telling Jo she's not bent. Not for any romantic reason, but because their little run from the police stunt was done at least in part under the auspices that Jo could prove to Kate that she wasn't bent. In fact, Kate pleads with Jo to do so. It's just frustrating, and gives Steve an emotional beat he hasn't truly earned with Jo, or at least hasn’t earned as much as Kate.

And Jo gives them a name! They search a prison cell, and find nothing. It's really built up to seem like it's Fairbank, who is revealed to be a confused old dude. Why Jo thought she was communicating with him this entire time is simply never addressed. Whatever. They ask about the murders and cover ups, and he offers nothing. Kate asks about Jo, and after some more pushing, Fairbank implicitly agrees that he and Tommy Hunter convinced Jo he was her father. Hastings is pissed, but Chloe calls to save the day (again).

Chloe "I should be Chief Constable" Bishop brings the team up to speed on the text search for incorrect spellings of the word definitely. Which they've apparently managed to do in a matter of hours, even on handwritten reports from 17 years prior! Because Jed has definitely never needed to do a text analysis by hand before. They then proceed to NEVER NAME THE SUSPECT. FOR 1 MINUTE AND 10 SECONDS.

Oh but don't worry, because this is the perfect opportunity for our realigned partners to confront Hastings about the bribe money and his conversations with Ian Banks. Can't reveal who the fourth man is when the head of the investigation is also a bent cop, silly audience. And it's revealed that Ted leaked Corbett as a UCO because of Corbett's role in the attack on Hastings' wife. But it's okay because he's sorry about it!

To be hella clear: Hastings, an anti-corruption officer who prides himself on following the letter of the law, took actions he knew would result in the death of John Corbett and Kate later forgives him for it. Jo was under threat of death from the OCG and tried to get rid of Kate via transfer and then led her to an empty lorry park to be killed while she thought Ryan was under surveillance that could likely intervene, and we in no way see Kate react to that experience in this episode. Cool!

Finally, we get the interview with the fourth man, which is revealed 8 minutes and 32 seconds after the characters themselves learn the information. For some reason unknown to God or man, Kate is there despite not being involved in Buckells' case since she works for MIT, not AC-12. Frankly, not gonna delve into it. Kate is wearing a sweater we've yet to see her in, a blue crew neck that is frankly more feminine than anything we've seen this series so far, and moreso matches what she's worn in previous series. It’s unsettling. Steve is in his classic AC-12 uniform.

Just a quick q for the kids at home - if Buckells only ever communicated with people via a secure browser on burner devices, how in the hell did he get a laptop in prison? Also, why did he not break himself out of prison by having someone else plant evidence of some kind, especially since he supposedly had a lot to blackmail Jo with?

At what I can only assume is their local, Steve and Kate congratulate themselves on doing nothing beyond sit in interview rooms to catch Buckells. Kate might go back to AC-12 - even though she left because of the gaffer's actions which turned out to be WAY WORSE THAN SHE PREVIOUSLY BELIEVED? Sure, Jed. They have a chat about what's been happening with Steve and his painkiller addiction. Kate implies he should drive up to Liverpool to see Steph, which he doesn't think is a good idea. But don't worry, they've got each other, mate. Platonic soulmates forever (no romantic underscoring in this analysis).

And then, with no previous discussion in the script or even telegraphing by the camera, Kate is in therapy. Which is great, because she truly needs it, girl has been through a lot. She mentions her ex, and Josh who is apparently her reason for living but she's texted about him once and mentioned him offhand to Jo to tell her he'd be with her ex, and then her great friend and partner, Steve (which is true, but the romantic framing is gross and out of character).

Not being funny, Kate is wearing a truly horrendous mauve top here, over a white shirt. We've never seen her in a color like this, it doesn't fit in with the rest of the color palette in her wardrobe, up to and including all of the orange and brown she wore at MIT. It's honestly frumpy, and in no way aligns with the characterization shown to us through her wardrobe in the rest of the series. The last time we do see her in an outfit like that is during the interview with Jo. Jo left and took Kate's excellent sense of style with her.

Kate and Steve meet with Patty to discuss Darren Hunter's involvement in the murder of Lawrence Christopher, and discuss how there's more corrupt officers to be uncovered. Patty C isn't gonna do anything about that tho. Hastings strolls up to chat with Patty C, and we learn that Buckells will get immunity. The trio are about to leave when Ted storms back into her office to confess to his actions leading to John Corbett's death. He gets one more speech about carrying the fire and bad apples in policing before they all leave.

For the final outfits we may ever see them in, Hastings is wearing a blue shirt, Steve is wearing a grey suit, white shirt, and green tie, and Kate is in a white turtleneck with a navy pea coat. Again, this turtleneck is more effeminate than anything we’ve seen her in this series. Hell, even Patty C is wearing blue to show she’s aligned with anti-corruption and just kind of a bitch, not actually corrupt.

Finally, to the blessed epilogue. Shoutout to Terry and Farida for getting some closure to the bullshit they’ve been through.

Jo steps out of her little stone cottage in the country, dressed in a casual sweater of grey and blue, breathing in the fall air deeply. Her layers of clothing are gone, her hair is down and soft. Her Icelandic sweater shows that she’s finally free to honor her heart, and no longer feels trapped by her family and who she thought they were.

And then, a dog trots out after her, and we see Jo bend down to hug the retriever and kiss its head. This is the most free affection we have ever seen Jo give. A set of legs appear in the doorway behind her, and a redheaded woman steps out of the cottage to meet Jo and the dog. Jo smiles at her, oh so freely after the tension she carried for 21 years, and they clasp hands, walking down the country road away from their home. Because Jo is free, and she can freely love and live without fear in her new life.

Now, from a purely logistical standpoint, very little affection between anyone could be shown from episodes 3-7 because of COVID filming protocols (which seem to be far more strict on physical distancing than American and Canadian productions). The production team actually did a brilliant job using forced perspective and interesting over the shoulders to make people seem like they were closer together than they were. From a film nerd perspective though, they broke the 180 rule so frequently that I nearly lost my mind (glass boxes are great but they ignore all rules of perspective).

All that aside, the logistics of filming in COVID mean that moments where we do see physical distancing broken are all the more important. Kelly filmed this scene with an actress who she has not been working with for months, because it is so, so important to see Jo come out of the other side of her tragic life intact. It also matters that her partner is wearing a warm hat and has red hair (intentional casting or otherwise) and that their home has a red door, because it shows that those warm tones represent something different for Jo now. They don’t represent fear and betrayal and being trapped - now they represent home.

Additionally, there are a lot of comparisons made between Jo, Dot, and Ryan. All three had been groomed by Tommy Hunter since childhood to work for the OCG, all three were put into the Central Police to act as inside men, and all three committed terrible acts in their own interest. But there are differences here. Ryan was a little shit as a kid and he clearly had a terrible home life - his mom was the worst. He gravitated to an authority figure who offered him something different and who gave him power. He is a victim of circumstance - but he also found power and enjoyment in his terrible actions. He gloated about Maneet Bindra and John Corbett’s deaths, and he enjoyed wielding power over Jo when he was threatening her.

Dot is the blend between Ryan and Jo - he too was groomed by Tommy to enter this world of crime, and did many awful things without regret, including killing people who threatened to expose his identity as the Caddy. It’s not until his friendship, and burgeoning relationship, that his behavior changes. He almost gets away from the Central Police, despite Kate hopping on a lorry for a free ride to track him down, but when faced with the reality that this would mean Kate’s death, he sacrifices himself and gives her a final clue to dismantle the OCG within the police.

Jo, from what we’re shown, felt regret after everything she did, and the show made it a point to demonstrate Jo as a victim of her family and genuine fear for her life if she didn’t continue following the actions of the OCG. We never saw Ryan or Dot with a gun to their head or with a dozen locks on their door. We never saw them break down in bathroom stalls, or even framing people and discrediting them instead of killing them. And it’s ultimately her relationship with Kate that changes things for her - she tries to use Kate at first to get caught, and when they get close she tries to push Kate away in order to protect her, right until she thinks she has no other choice but to let Ryan kill her.

It’s interesting that all three characters meet their end with Kate (and a damn shame the show never chose to address that fully). She quite literally kills Ryan, has a standoff with Dot that ends with him sacrificing himself for her and giving a dying declaration, and goes on the run with Jo to give her time to prove she isn’t bent and who plants evidence against herself to protect Kate. Later, it’s Kate who convinces Jo to give up everything she knows about the OCG and the man who claimed to be her father, and Kate who offers immunity and witness protection. Finally, in their last scene together, Kate manages to save one of the people corrupted under the thumb of the OCG. She completes a task she first set out for in series 1, the first time she interviewed Ryan and tried to get him to realize there’s a better life out there for him.

Kate does what Jo was hoping she would: she saves her, and gives her the life she never thought she could have.

I wish I could end this with a perfect bow that ties the wardrobe threads of this series together, but frankly I can’t. On a macro level, cool tones remains the symbol of anti-corruption and the pursuit of truth and justice, and warm tones represent any force opposing those ideals. On a micro level, Steve’s clothing choices and what they represent remain consistent throughout the series, as do Jo’s. However, the character that ties Steve and Jo together, the person who believed in the truth of Jo despite what face value was saying, that person’s wardrobe gets thrown to hell in the final episode. Kate’s colors remain cool, and it’s understandable that the warm tones that represented her connection to Jo disappear as Jo turns on the OCG, but the actual physical clothing is completely different from what she’s been wearing before and doesn’t fit her characterization.

I think it’s crucial to note that her femininity is only played up when she’s back on a team with men, where her earlier androgynous dress became suddenly unacceptable. It’s a damn shame, because the emotional payoff for Kate’s growth outside of AC-12 could’ve been really spectacular, and she was stymied in the end in favor of her male colleagues.

#line of duty #kate fleming #jo davidson #steve arnott #flemson #kate x jo #lod spoilers #line of duty spoilers #It took me a long time to finish this because I struggled with the absolute 180 degree turn the show took tonally in the final episode #It honestly threw off quite a few of my conclusions #and I had to rethink the analysis #but thank you to everyone who stuck with me #enjoy!

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the-girl-in-the-box · 3 years

Text

Not Today- XXXIV

A/N: Aaand, another late chapter, oops! I had a bit of a crazy week, finishing preparations for an audition I had Wednesday for a music program at my university, then passing the audition, scrambling to get my schedule sorted on Thursday, attending my first day of classes Friday, and making up any work I missed Friday afternoon and all day Saturday. YIKES! 😅 But, I’m very happy in this program, and I can tell I’m finally right where I’m meant to be. Unfortunately, all that did lead to another late chapter, but I have made it an extra thousand words- hopefully that makes up for the lateness!! A trigger warning for child abuse toward the end (canon typical), but enjoy the chapter! Even bigger things are coming soon 👀 Skål!

Summary: When Ivar takes the throne of Kattegat, Lagertha flees to Wessex along with Björn, Ubbe, Torvi, and the Bishop Heahmund. There, they seek the aid of King Alfred. This aid comes in the form of his sister, Aethelind, who agrees to travel to Kattegat and try to reason Ivar, who she spent some time with during their youth, when her grandfather King Ecbert hosted Ragnar Lothbrok in their castle. Now, she is the only hope for Lagertha and her supporters to retake Kattegat from Ivar the Boneless.

Masterlist

Ivar was woken first by the light streaming in through their window, and he shifted slightly as if he could avoid it. He felt Asta shifting with him, though far more subtly, as she moved only to press her back closer to his side. He smiled a little, turning his head toward her, and then he shifted once more. Rolling up onto his side, he let one of his arms drape over her waist, and then pulled her tightly against his chest, burying his face in her hair. He found it blocked the sun out perfectly, and so he let out a contented sigh. Yes, he could get used to this.

She rolled over, and he chuckled a bit to himself as he felt her turning back towards him, her arms wrapping around him and head tucking up under his chin. He adjusted his grip to hold her more securely, his hand resting against her upper back as he pulled her under his arm. There was a greater intimacy between them now, he realized, than there had been before. All the nights they’d slept at each other’s sides, he had still held her then, but it hadn’t been the same as this. Whatever wall she had put up between them had finally cracked that night. With it, Ivar’s insecurities about her had as well.

Now, as he pulled back just a bit to look down at her, he smiled softly. The early morning light was reflecting gently off her skin, making her almost seem to glow in it, contrasting with the thick, dark waves which stretched out behind her. Truly, he would believe she was a goddess, if he was told it was so. As it stood, he believed with all his heart she truly was a Prophet.

“Your blood is fated together.”

The words entered his mind in the Seer’s voice, and when Ivar lifted his eyes, he saw him, sitting somewhere just behind her. But it wasn’t his own voice he heard reply, it was hers.

“Our blood?” she asked. “How can our blood be fated together?”

“In the blood of your fathers,” the Seer answered, no less frustratingly vague than he had been in life. “In the blood of your sons. King begets King, Priest begets Princess, and blood is fated to blood. The darkness grows as the light stays by his side. The tides are pulled by command of the moon.”

“What do you mean by that? What moon, and what tides?” she questioned.

“You are surrounded by the tides, Prophet. But they do not darken your light. You remain. You are all that remains. Wake, and drown in them.”

Asta’s eyes opened suddenly, taking a deep breath as she looked up at Ivar. He found himself blinking a few times, and… he smiled. Even though he knew she had rather mundane ways of making her prophecies, he had no doubt she was somehow truly a Prophet. If the Seer were here, were still alive, and could somehow speak with her, he would say the same. Ivar was sure of it.

Confusion crossed his face as he saw it grow in her, and she even sat up a bit, took a little bit of a look around. “Was there a man in here?” she asked, looking back to Ivar now with her brows drawn. He shook his head.

“None that I’m aware of,” he said. If there had been one, he’d snuck in while they’d slept. But Ivar couldn’t recall anyone but himself and Asta. “Did you hear something?”

“A man’s voice,” she answered. “He spoke to me. You’re sure you heard nothing?”

“I heard nothing,” he answered her honestly. “I have only been awake a few moments, but I think I would have noticed. Did you dream it?”

“Perhaps.”

“They say the Seer has appeared in dreams to people,” he told her. “I have not seen him since his death, but I know I have heard it said.”

Asta hummed, growing more thoughtful at this response from Ivar. “Was he a strangely cryptic man?” Ivar chuckled.

“There was nothing he said which made any sense until you saw it played out in your life,” he replied, which in turn made her chuckle as well. “What did the man in your dream say, hmm?”

To Ivar, it was beginning to sound as if the Seer had come to Asta in a dream, which was only serving to further convince him she was truly a Prophet. If the Seer gave her a prophecy, could that be how she knew to say some of what she did? Things such as her various warnings to Oleg? That would certainly make sense.

“He told me the tides would be pulled at the command of the moon.”

Ivar froze.

He’d heard those words, once before, when the very same prophecy had been given to him. Many times, he’d reflected on it as he watched Asta, and as he found himself doing whatever it was she needed. Even now, as he had proposed marriage to her, not only to ensure he never loses her, but also for her own security in Wessex, he was doing all he could for her. He couldn’t remember the last time another person had had such influence over him.

Well, there was Freydis. And, had Asta not stayed so steadfastly by his side, he might have questioned her in the aftermath of Freydis’s betrayal. But as it was, he found that he trusted her. He wanted to trust her. He didn’t know if he would be able to take her betrayal, not so shortly after Freydis’s. He needed her, and so he was pulled at her command. Ivar the Boneless would always be pulled at the command of Asta the Prophet.

He hummed, and brought a hand up to push her hair behind her ear. “What do you think it means, hmm?”

“I don’t know,” Asta replied. She leaned into Ivar’s touch, the way he brushed her hair back, and gave a sigh. “He said many other things, but nothing I could pick any meaning out of.”

“Try not to worry too much then, my love,” he said. “Just take some time to rest, instead.”

Asta nodded a little, taking in a deep breath and letting it out in a long exhale. “You’re right,” she said. “Yes, I’ll just…” She paused as she looked up at him, and cupped his jaw with her hand. “I’ll focus on you instead.”

Ivar smiled and nodded. “And I will focus on you,” he promised. He let his hand move from her hair to her back, pulling her closer as he leaned down to press his lips to hers. The little hum she gave, a sound of contentment he had learned to recognize from her the night before, made warmth spread through his chest. Indeed, if he could wake up with her like this every morning, he would die a happy man.

Unfortunately, as with all things, their morning together eventually came to an end, and Ivar and Asta had to get up and prepare for their day. Their routine was well established by now, and they moved around their chambers as if they’d been practicing this all their lives- stopping to help the other as needed, and finding the other there almost before the request was made.

If nothing else, they were nearly perfectly attuned to the other. Ivar would take a different breath when he was about to speak, and if he was sitting on the bed without his braces, then Asta knew what he wanted before he had even voiced it. She’d easily go to get his braces, and bring them to him, helping him to get them on his legs without being asked.

Likewise, she would give a very particular huff when she was struggling with her hair, and so Ivar would call her over before she even requested he help her with it. A perfect team was what they had become, and when the time came for them to take Igor to the market, both were prepared simultaneously, and ready to start their day. It was all terribly convenient, and gave them a sense of domesticity with the other about which they’d never complain.

Igor was already prepared to leave when they arrived at his chambers, and today, he’d clearly decided to bring along his puppet. Asta had smiled when she saw this, and chuckled softly.

“Ah, the King will be joining us today, then?” she asked him teasingly, and Igor grinned and nodded.

“He has decided he wants to get out,” he replied. “See his Kingdom.”

“Is that so, your Majesty?” Ivar asked the puppet.

Taking on a voice as if the puppet were speaking, Igor answered, “It is. I want to see my people, and how they are doing.”

The three went into the marketplace as they had planned, walking about and looking at different things for sale, laughing at a hat Asta tried on which didn’t suit her at all, and Ivar even bought a necklace for her, which did rather well suit her. It was a silver pendant, in which was carved the Triskele, a symbol of growth and change. The symbol seemed rather fitting, and so when she took to it, he gifted it to her. She’d grinned and hugged him happily, kissed his cheek, and asked him to put it around her neck. Seeing her so happy with the little gift had warmed Ivar’s heart.

Later, sometime that afternoon, a man approached Ivar while Asta was off at another booth, entertaining the boy with something. The message was something Ivar wasn’t overly fond of hearing, but accepted, and went to Asta and Igor with. “We must go,” he explained, and Asta sighed softly.

“Can I assume that…?” she began, and he gave a nod. This only caused her to let out an irritated huff. “He can’t even give us a day, can he? One day, just to do whatever we feel like?”

Ivar chuckled softly, and shook his head. “Apparently, he cannot,” he said. “Come.”

Asta rolled her eyes again, and turned to Igor. “Well?” she asked the boy. “Are you coming?”

“Where are we going?” he questioned, though he did follow Asta and Ivar as they started back toward the palace.

The latter of them answered, “To see Uncle Oleg.”

Igor wasn’t happy with this answer, and so decided to entertain himself by speaking once more through his puppet. “About what?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Ivar replied. “Oleg is… an enigma.”

“What’s an ‘igma’?” Igor asked then, confused enough at the word to drop the puppet voice and look up at Ivar. Asta chuckled softly, and corrected him.

“An enigma,” she said.

“What’s an enigma?”

Ivar chuckled softly, and shook his head. “I’ve no idea,” he replied.

“An enigma is something that cannot be understood,” Asta explained to them both. “And… a very fitting description for Oleg.”

Igor had stopped paying so much attention to what Asta and Ivar were saying, wondering to himself what it might be that his uncle wanted with them that was so important he had to interrupt their day out. “Perhaps Uncle Oleg wants to give me a present,” he suggested somewhat hopefully.

“Perhaps he does,” Asta agreed. She rather doubted it.

But, it was enough for Igor, who smiled and said, “Perhaps he wants to give me half of the sky.”

Ivar and Asta shared a brief look. The sky did not belong to Oleg, and so to hear Igor speak as though it did, even after the talks they’d had with him, was concerning to say the least. Ivar stopped, putting a hand on Igor’s shoulder as he turned to him.

“He cannot give you something that is already yours,” he told the boy seriously. “Remember that, hmm?”

Asta looked up, back toward the palace, where she found Oleg watching them from the balcony just above the door. He turned and went inside.

The trio soon found their way back into the palace, and into the main dining hall, where Oleg was already waiting for them, sitting at the head of the table as he did so. Katia sat to his right, and Asta swallowed slightly at the sight. Something didn’t sit right with her about this, though she wasn’t sure just what it was.

“Prince Igor,” she greeted, smiling at the sight of him. “And Ivar the Boneless and Asta the Prophet. How very lovely.” She smiled as well at the Vikings. “Will you have some tea?”

Oleg patted the place to his left as the Princess stood, gesturing for Igor to come and sit there, and the boy did so eagerly. Asta, still more than a touch suspicious, lifted her brow as she watched Katia go for the pot.

“Tea?” she questioned.

As opposed to answering, Katia simply repeated, “Tea,” with a warm smile.

Asta hummed and sat down, as Ivar asked, “What is tea?”

“A plant, from Asia,” Katia replied.

Of course, she answers him, Asta thought a bit bitterly.

As Ivar sat down beside her, Katia knelt to pour him a cup of tea, holding eye contact with him for far longer than necessary. She repeated this exactly with Asta, who looked up into her eyes with a silent question behind them. What are you playing at? they almost seemed to ask.

Katia’s seemed to answer, Trust me.

Asta blinked a few times, confusion crossing her face. Something in Katia’s expression made the Shieldmaiden want to do exactly that, though realistically she knew doing so would likely be a horrible decision. But what if it wasn’t? What if trusting Katia was something she was meant to do? What if nothing was as it seemed here in Kiev, and Katia was not doing as she seemed to be?

Oleg spoke again, pulling Asta’s attention away from the Rus Princess with his anxious tone as he suggested, of what tea was, that it was, “Medicine, perhaps,” and chuckled shortly after. So, Katia’s behavior was unsettling? Asta’s attention immediately returned to her, as Oleg began to try and move things along. “I thought you might be interested in the further plans for the invasion of your countries,” he said. “I mean, of course, our countries.”

A telling, “Hmm,” from Katia, who finished pouring the tea, and returned to her place at Oleg’s side.

Ivar replied, “Of course,” but Asta was now unable to stop thinking.

There was a message in Katia’s little hum, something about what Oleg had just said. What had he just said? The invasion of your countries. I mean, of course, our countries… Had that been a slip of the tongue, or of the subconscious? What was he saying through that?

She began to pay more attention as he explained, “As you know, we cannot put our plan into operation until next spring,” wanting to see if she could pick up on anything else out of the ordinary. “However,” he continued, “it seems to me it would be ill-advised to commit such huge forces into many unknown…”

At this time, Igor began to play with the puppet again, bored of the conversation regarding so much plotting and planning. He was still a child, after all, and what child wanted to plan the invasion of another country? Oleg noticed this, and gave a small sigh as he finished, “...theatres of war.”

Igor got up then, carrying the puppet around behind Oleg to go and sit beside Katia, who wrapped an arm around him and began to tend him much as a mother would. Oleg ignored this, and continued to speak.

“I know you can advise us on what we are likely to encounter,” he said to Ivar and Asta, “but I feel as though we need a more current and a much broader knowledge of those countries…” He became distracted by Igor pretending to feed the puppet, watching him for a few moments before continuing with a groan, “we plan to attack.”

Ivar could see the irritation beginning to grow in Oleg, and it occurred to him that if the man’s attention was not pulled away from the boy once more, he may lose his temper. That was something no one there, he didn’t doubt, would want to see. “Strategy and planning are everything,” he agreed as means of doing exactly this, and tapped the side of his head for emphasis. “The mind is a far better battlefield than the sword.”

“My intention is to send small raiding parties,” Oleg explained. Ivar’s plan had worked, then. “To take prisoners, from whom further information can be gleaned.”

Igor again got up, and moved to sit just to Ivar’s right, as if having been reminded by the Viking speaking up that he was there, and could indeed be sat with. Said Viking answered Oleg, “I agree, that is very sensible.”

“And, perhaps you would even consider appointing us to lead a couple of these raiding parties?” Asta suggested.

Oleg looked to her, as if a bit surprised she would make this suggestion. But, he smiled falsely at her, and replied insincerely, “I will definitely take your request into consideration. Although, Katia and I both enjoy your… intimate company.”

Asta wasn’t surprised he was already wanting to turn this down. After all, the entire reason she did want to go was to see if she could run into Hvitserk, or perhaps Torvi, Ubbe, even Björn… There was still a horrible feeling in her gut when she thought of Lagertha, of the nightmare she’d had concerning the older Shieldmaiden, and if she could just make contact with one of her old friends, without alerting them to Ivar’s location… she thought she might be able to find something out, and set her mind at ease.

She stopped staring Oleg down as Katia spoke up, seeming to agree with her husband. “You are both… very intriguing,” she said. “Some of the things you say surprise me, and I never know what you will say next. You claim there is a connection between us, which I cannot fully understand…”

Ivar smiled tightly at her, and Asta hummed. “I wish I could understand it,” she said. “You aren’t alone in that lack of understanding. In fact, I find it likely that only the gods know.”

Katia hummed, but before she could answer Asta, Igor began to beat the hand of the puppet on the table, as if the puppet were demanding everyone’s attention. Oleg glared irritatedly, but Ivar took a different approach, looking instead to appease the boy.

“What do you say, Prince Igor?” he asked. “Do you want to come with us on a raiding party?”

“I must consult the King,” Igor said, and Ivar acquiesced with a hum, and a gesture to the puppet which clearly encouraged Igor to do so. Taking on the puppet’s ‘voice’ once again, Igor said, “I think you should make your own decisions!”

Oleg cracked.

“What are you doing, huh?!” he demanded, almost launching himself to his feet and storming around the table toward Igor. He pulled the boy up to his feet, and yelled, “Are you crazy?” before throwing him back down again.

Asta gasped, but before she could get up to push Oleg away from Igor, Igor himself stood, and putting the puppet between himself and Oleg, speaking once more through it, he shouted back, “I am not crazy! I am the King and I own everything! This table, this room, this palace! I own the land and the sky!”

Ivar watched, almost as if enthralled or entranced, as Igor finally stood up for himself. It was a far cry from the anxious expression his ‘wife’ wore, and her hand closed around his arm tightly. Oh yes, she was anxious indeed.

And, she was right to be, as Oleg then screamed, and snatched the puppet away from Igor, throwing it to the ground and stomping on it, shredding it until it was nothing more than chips of wood. When Igor tried to run, Oleg grabbed him by the back of his collar, and threw him down as if he weighed no more than the puppet. He got down into Igor’s face, and snapped, “Don’t do that anymore! Don’t be stupid. You are not the King, you are my ward. I am responsible for you, and without you, you are nothing. Do you understand?” Igor tried to look away from him, and Oleg grabbed his jaw, forcing the boy’s attention back. “Don’t ever try to make fun of me again, or I’ll cut out your tongue and feed your liver to my dogs.”

Finally released, Igor jumped to his feet, and fled the room.

Asta, horrified, turned to watch Oleg as he stood, straightened his coat, and returned to sit beside Katia once more- though, the Princess seemed to, at the least, be judging Oleg’s actions quite harshly in her head. “He’s a good boy,” Oleg said. “He just needs to be controlled.”

Katia took a sip of her tea.

When the room remained silent, Oleg again spoke. “You had a child once, didn’t you, Ivar?”

Asta’s eyes hardened, and she glared daggers at Oleg, sensing how Ivar tensed up beside her in a highly uncomfortable way. He gave Oleg a tight smile, took his crutch, and stood. “Forgive me,” he said. “I’ve had enough to eat.” The way he picked up the shattered puppet, and carried it from the room, revealed that was far from the true problem.

Asta took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly as she stood, and looked down at Oleg. His eyes met hers once more, preparing for another battle of will with her, but today, she wasn’t playing. She spoke one sentence. “The gods will judge you harshly, Prince Oleg.” One sentence, and she left.

Ivar and Asta had eventually found Igor up in the nest in his room, and both had managed the climb up in there to sit with him. The boy now rested against Ivar, who held him tightly, with Asta’s arms wrapped around them both.

“Do not weep, dear Igor,” Ivar said softly, and pressed a soothing kiss to the top of his head. “Sweet child, do not weep. We are here, now.”

Asta knew Igor likely didn’t realize the full meaning of Ivar’s words. But she did, and she agreed with him wholeheartedly. She and Ivar had become fiercely protective of Igor, in their time in Kiev, and now that they were there, they weren’t going to let Oleg get away with treating him like this. No, on the contrary.

They were going to make him pay.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius, @katfett, @sylki-simp, @heavenly1927, @pomegranates-and-blood, @kingniazx, @dekusdante

If you want to be added to the taglist, feel free to reach out either by commenting, reblogging, DMing me, or sending an ask, and I’ll be more than happy to add you!

#ivar the boneless #ivar #ivar ragnarsson #alex høgh andersen #ivar's heathen army #ivar x oc #ivar x original female character #ivar x ofc #ivar x christian!oc #vikings #vikings history channel #history channel vikings #not today #chapter thirty-four

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rewrite-this-story · 3 years

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Ok, so I'm going to just share this long post/ rant comparing two fictional characters with abusive tendencies. They are from two very difference, completely unrelated (except for the fact that Leslie Odom Jr. appears in both) shows. I like one and tend to dislike the other and I want to share why I think this is. The two character I'm going to discuss are Jimmy Collins from Smash (played by Jeremy Jordan) and Dean Winchester from Supernatural (played by Jensen Ackles). Before anyone says anything, no, I don’t like Jimmy Collins more than Dean Winchester because one of my favorite Broadway actors plays him.

Warning: there are a few spoilers ahead.

Just for reference, this is Dean Winchester:

And this is Jimmy Collins:

I'm assuming most people have some idea what Supernatural is about and who Dean is, but Smash is not nearly as well known, so I'm going to try to quickly summarize everything you need to know. Smash is a musical TV show that ran for two seasons. It's not super well known, but it was good. The music mostly consists of original songs written by Broadway composers and writers and most of the actors are fairly successful on Broadway. Some of them weren't at the time, but are now. The first season of the show focuses on a few characters as they try to get a musical about Marilyn Monroe titled Bombshell produced on Broadway while struggling with issues in their personal lives. In season 2, they are still trying to get Bombshell onto Broadway, but the group splits up and some of them move on to working on a new musical written by Jimmy Collins and Kyle Bishop titled Hit List. Fantastic show, I would definitely recommend checking it out.

Now, let's move on to talking about Dean Winchester and Jimmy Collins and their childhoods.

Dean Winchester grew up in a very unhealthy household and was trained to fight monsters and look after his brother since his mother died when he was four. His brother, Sam, was a baby at the time and didn't feel the same conviction to avenge his mother's death as his father and brother. It doesn't help that he really wasn't told anything about her and would get in trouble for even mentioning her. Different people have different opinions about their father, but I won't talk too much about him in this post. However, I will say that he was probably not the position to raise his children well. I don't care if he was grieving or trying his best, it was not healthy for Sam and Dean to be raised the way they were. Since young, they were both trained in hand to hand combat and the use of numerous weapons. By the time they were teenagers, they were helping their father fight monsters and knew how to treat most injuries. Dean was often pressured to take care of Sam. He also often found himself in the middle of arguments between Sam and their father. Many people theorize or argue that their father was both emotional and physically abusive and that he was an alcoholic.

We never meet Jimmy's parents, but we know that his father was physically abusive and an alcoholic from Jimmy's discussions with Karen and Kyle. It's reasonable to assume that he was also emotionally abusive. I don't remember what happened to his mother, but after getting away from their father, Jimmy and his brother, Adam, have no relationship with her. We also don't know much about his relationship with Adam growing up, but after they leave, Adam gets Jimmy addicted to drugs and convinces him to deal drugs for him. Eventually, Jimmy meets Kyle. Kyle helps him see the error in his ways and he starts battling his addiction and stops selling drugs. Well, it's partly Kyle's influence, partly his own conscience, and partly the shock of watching a girl he liked overdose on drugs he gave her that gets him to try to change. At some point after this, Jimmy steals money from his brother, changes his name to Jimmy Collins, and moves in with Kyle. Throughout the show, he repeatedly refers to Kyle as his brother.

Throughout each show, both Dean and Jimmy are shown to get very angry very easily and often hurt the people who care most about them. They try to use their past to excuse their behavior and they emotionally manipulate those closest to them and make them feel guilty for things that they shouldn't feel guilty for.

The major differences I noticed between the characters was their development throughout the show and how the show dealt with their behavior.

Supernatural and many fans constantly excuse Dean's behavior because he had a hard childhood. I have heard fans say that his misogynistic attitude throughout the show is ok because he has "mommy issues". His reactions are justified for various reasons and in the end, he's treated like a hero. His hypocrisy is ok because he knows best. His constant abuse towards both Sam and Castiel is ok because they somehow deserved it. I can't remember what people said to justify how he treated Jack. At one point in the show he says that he's poison. The show never addresses the fact that people around him don't get hurt just because he has bad luck. They get hurt because he hurts them or drives them to put themselves in danger. Dean never changes or improves. Even when a character tells him that he needs to change, he ignores them. He somehow hates himself whole being blind to his own flaws.

Jimmy, on the other hand, knows he needs to change and improve. When we first meet him, he wants nothing to do with anyone other than Kyle. This is probably partly because he doesn't trust them and partly because he doesn't trust himself. Kyle often puts up with Jimmy's behavior, but when he does push back, Jimmy listens. The show doesn't ignore Jimmy's issues. His backstory doesn't exist to justify his flaws, but to explain them. He works to improve for himself and the people who care about him. And he does learn and improve. He learns to trust people and do nice things just because. He does slip up occasionally, but he tries to make things right and apologize. In the end, he even manages to face his past and turns himself in for the crimes he committed to try to make things right. I'm guessing he also starting seeing a therapist while in jail, but we don't really know.

Basically, abusive characters can still be likable if their abusive behavior is addressed and they get character development.

#supernatural #dean negative #anti dean winchester #smash #jeremy jordan #jimmy collins #dean winchester

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everyonewasabird · 3 years

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Brickclub 1.5.10 ‘Results of the success’

What do you SAY about this chapter?

Things that strike me:

- Just, the way the Thenardiers work. Whatever scale they’re operating on, they want more. The current magnitude is on the order of several francs a month and the manual labor of a small child. If Fantine were a millionaire and Cosette were a capable adult, the Thenardiers would just open their mouths wider and still gobble up more than Fantine and Cosette were capable of giving them. As Thenardier says, he could eat the world. Eventually, Marius will give him enough money to get him to leave, and he’ll go use it to consume more people more entirely.

- How much Fantine comes to resemble Valjean. She has the same rage and bravado now that he did. She expresses it in laughter, and he almost never laughed, but I feel like that has to do with how much her life and livelihood as a woman depend on appearances. Valjean’s personal appearance and demeanor matters in terms of whether people trust him or will let him stay at their inn, etc., but it’s never been commodified the way Fantine’s hair and teeth and face have been since the beginning. Her laughter feels like a performance, because a sullen man may be frightening, but a sullen woman looks beaten. And neither of them is willing to look beaten.

- Until later. There’s a point in this chapter where Fantine’s care for appearances goes away.

- With Valjean’s time in the bagne, there’s a feeling that he grows more and more armor but that he could continue on that way for a long time. If the bishop hadn’t changed him, his life would be miserable and probably criminal, and he would almost certainly have been caught again and sent back to the bagne--but he would have lived. Valjean’s fall involved hardening parts of himself, but not in selling off parts of himself.

Fantine doesn’t get to keep her dignity, or the parts of her body, or the rights over who accesses her body. The world engages with Valjean in terms of what he does, be that labor or theft or good works. As long as Fantine stays in the category of “honest woman,” the world will engage with her in that capacity, but as soon as she steps outside it, she’s only a collection of commodities to be sold off piecemeal.

- The misérable status of a convict muddies that line--once he has a yellow passport, the world is very much concerned with what he is, and a prisoner is a commodity without rights whose labor can simply be taken, much like Cosette. But even then, as a man he can’t be divvied up into component parts.

- But Fantine keeps one thing that Valjean loses. She never stops adoring the kid she did it for.

- This chapter shows the similarity through Fantine competing directly with prison labor. The prisoners can be made to work for less, so she loses out. It looks like she’s competing with the prisoners when really these are just different avenues the powerful have for exploiting people. The capitalists will eat and eat and eat whatever they can get out of people.

- I’ve been experimenting lately with the idea that Thenardier is capitalism. Is this a thing? That would make the two villains of this story the police state and capitalism respectively. I think I like it.

- Like I said about Valjean’s prison wages, the feeling that Fantine’s labor is cheap and expendable and doesn’t matter is an illusion cast by the people who are profiting off it. These poor workers are the horses before the carts: they feel powerless and beaten-down, but when they fall, the entire street stops. None of them have, as of yet, learned to band together and use that power on purpose.

- I’m struck by how absolutely fucking indomitable Fantine is. You place an impossible task in front of her? She does it. Even if she has to strip off every conceivable part of herself piece by piece to do it. “Where did you get these louis d’or?” Marguerite asks in astonishment.

“I got them,” Fantine says.

#brickclub #lm 1.5.10

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writing-the-end · 3 years

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LoL Chapter 25- Checkmate

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU and Red belongs to @theguardiansofredland )

Captured by Dolios, it’s up to TFC to decide who lives, who dies, and who gets to walk away from the game Dolios plays with them.

Chapter idea credit to @whumpster-dumpster

_____________________________________________

“How about a game of chess, guildmaster?” Dolios waves the hermits into the antechamber of the prison. The death dungeons Galena warned them of. TFC is pushed forward, standing before and alone from his friends. He stumbles and turns, head spinning from the sleep he was awoken from as he looks at them all. Helmets cover the faces of the guards standing behind each hermit, but he can clearly see the knives at their throats. Every single one, a hair’s breadth from death. Some are stoic, like Doc. Unafraid and unblinking to the cold blade. Others are nearly collapsing to their knees- if doing so didn’t mean being cut by the knife.

TFC turns back, a fierce growl rising from his throat “What is this about?”

“I’m trying to be civil, can’t you see?” Dolios sweeps his purple robes to the side, revealing a table and two chairs. Atop the table, crystal and obsidian chess pieces glitter in the torchlight. “I’m letting you decide your team's fate. You see, each piece is a member of your illegal guild. On both sides. Each one that’s captured is eventual doom. Play my game, and decide the fate of your beloved friends. Who is more important, who will live? Who is sacrificed for the good of the cause?”

“What kind of sick game-!” Grian claws his way out of his captor’s grip, biting down on the gloved hand before the masked man regains control over the spitfire.

“And what happens when I win?” TFC puts a hand on his waist and raises a silvery eyebrow.

“You won’t, but just to ease your fears, when you win your friends will get to live. It won’t be a nice time living, but they’ll be alive.” Dolios chuckles. “If you lose, those who are captured are killed and become another husk to add to my army. The rest may leave, in fact. But trust me- I won’t leave anyone alive. I play to dominate.”

“What if I just don’t play?” TFC looks at the chess pieces. He picks up a knight, turning it over. Scrawled on the bottom of the crystal white horse, he can see Wels’s name. One piece, but one real life in this game of strategy. He has to be smarter than Dolios.

“Then we can just make this fast and kill them all right now. I’m giving you the chance to free some, or all! Of your friends.” Dolios pulls out a chair and motions to it, brushing the cushioned velvet flat. “Sit, guildmaster. Let’s play a game. Show me your true worth as a champion guild.”

Reluctantly, he does. He has no choice. This is the only way he can ensure some sort of life for his friends. But at the expense of others. As soon as he pulls his chair in, a blast of air and magic reverberates from the chess board. He winces, his hair blowing back and gripping the chair for support. When TFC reopens his eyes, the prison chamber has changed.

Dolios and him are floating above the ground. Just beneath them, a massive chess board has appeared. The guards are gone, and on each checkered color stands a hermit. Only a few pieces are actual stone. Grian opens his wings, attempting to fly free from his place as bishop. But as soon as he takes off from the ground, his eyes widen and pain laces across his face. He crashes to the stone, black lightning shooting up his skin. Iskall and others step forward, before hesitating. They’re chess pieces now. Pawns. They can only move when the player moves them. Dolios looks down, chuckling. “He’s quite the wild child. Completely different from the last angel I quarreled with.”

“Why are you doing this?” TFC hisses. “This isn’t fair!”

“Since when did things ever become fair, guildmaster? You’re already playing with their lives by challenging me. Now you can see how your own mistakes led you here.” Dolios intertwines his fingers together, resting his elbows on the table. He leans his chin on his hands, a coy smile making his brown beard scratch at his skin. “I’ll let you make the first move, TFC.”

The guildmaster looks across his chess board, as well as below him. It’s not just his pieces that are hermits, that are his friends. Dolios has some as well. Standing deathly still, waiting for the first move to be taken. TFC closes his eyes, thinking. He needs to be smart, to be a better strategist than the magistrate of Lairyon. This isn’t just a game. This is beyond what happens at the table before him. He needs to think of the repercussions each move will make. He has to make the least bloody moves as possible. Save as many of his friend’s lives as possible.

“You promise no harm will come to my friends that survive?” TFC’s eyes open, realizing what he has to do. Without hesitation, TFC picks up a pawn, directly in front of Grian. It’s Mumbo.

“I promise, on my word as the magistrate of Lairyon. May the ancient ones strike me down themselves.” TFC sets the pawn two spaces forward. Below him, he hears Mumbo’s yelp, followed by a cry of pain and feet scrabbling forward. When the crystal mage looks up, Dolios is grinning. “So the game begins.”

He shoves his own pawn forward, moving exactly as TFC wants him to. The one directly in front of the king- of Dolios himself. TFC looks down, seeing Ren shuffle forward. He’s missing a sandal, only one flopping against the cold marble chess board beneath him. Two moves in front of him and to the left is Mumbo, shaking in his boots.

TFC moves a second pawn- Scar. “You have my friends marked wrong. None of them are pawns. They’re all stronger than you could ever hope to be.” Wels is exposed, Scar standing beside Mumbo.

“Tell that to this- checkmate.” TFC straightens his back, staring directly at Dolios as the magistrate shoves his queen diagonally. It’s not linked to any hermit, so a stone statue moves into the corner of the board. Turning and facing the white king. Capturing TFC. “You stupid mining moron! You lost in two moves!” Dolios cheers, his chair knocking backwards as he pumps his fist to the air and stands. “I didn’t even lose a single damned piece!”

“Neither did I.” TFC whispers. “Now let my friends go.”

Dolios stills, freezing mid celebration. His head turns, looking to TFC. He can see the magistrate slowly piece it all together, and the moment he realizes what’s happened. Elation breaks away in seething anger. A rage so bright and hot TFC swears he can feel it from his chair. “You tricked me!”

“No, I played your game.” TFC’s voice is calm, collected. “You just happened to win. What was it you said before… you play to dominate? And dominate you did. Shouldn’t a good leader find a way to win without bloodshed?”

Dolios waves his hand, a black magic circle appearing. A reverberating sonic wave shoves TFC out of his chair, throwing chess pieces all around him. Floating above his friends, he can hear them gasp. Only able to watch. Unable to move, to help their guildmaster. Their friend. Doc reaches out, but the black veins quickly reach back towards him. Towards his heart. TFC winces, sitting up. “You swore on your seat to let them go if I lost! If you go back on your word, everyone will know!”

“Oh, I don’t plan on going back on my words.” Dolios snaps his fingers, and the hermits warp back to reality. The chamber is it’s old dull hall, torches and stone bricks. Hermits collapse together, checking one another for wounds sustained while apart. Grasping to stay together, to piece what happened between their last memory and now. Most only remember the capitol hall, then being woken up by the masked guards in individual cells.

Dolios approaches TFC, setting his grey leather boot on the older man’s chest. Pressing his gilded heels harsh against his ribs. “But you still lost, you were captured. And all the pain your friends avoided? I’m going to do it tenfold to you!”

A black ball of lightning grows as Dolios snarls, hand winding back and aiming directly for TFC. His eyes are wild, unhinged and untethered to reality. TFC raises his hand, a weak attempt to stop the growing dark magic before him.

“Oh no you don’t!” X’s voice is sure, loud and reverberating off the stone walls. Unhindered by his mask. A snap follows soon after, and the dark lightning is dragged into nothingness. Into the void as X’s black hole grows. It threatened to eat up Dolios then and there, had he not taken an alarmed step back.

“How? You shouldn’t be able to do that! You’re weak! My sleep spell should’ve...” Dolios turns, staring down the other hermits. Not noticing that Cub was hidden behind the others, or that TFC was no longer at his feet.

“Nah, I’d say we’re pretty strong. Especially together.” X shrugs, and lets his black hole explode in a miniature big bang.

With Dolios distracted, the crew makes their escape. Wels casts a shield and speed buffs, one hand raised to protect the retreat. Etho disappears down the hall, bouncing through shadows and silently taking out the guards ahead. At the top of the stairs, Mumbo hacks his way into the redstone powered door. Focusing all of his strength into forcing it open. Stress releases a sheet of ice before them, Jevin wraps everyone together into a bundle of bodies, and Impulse takes up a position next to Wels and his shield. Bracing against his friends, he casts his magic. Short spurts of explosions erupt from his hands, jetting the guild down the hall.

Etho appears above the group from an arching shadow, grabbing Doc’s hand and joining them as they careen through the halls of the capitol building. Zipping past guards and wizards before anyone can even realize what they’ve seen, like a roller coaster ride. They don’t stop until they’ve burst out the back doors. Stress still doesn’t stop making a highway of ice, not until they’re well beyond the city limits, skating out into the open marshes that surround Milliara.

Only then does the crew stop, breathing heavily and taking a moment to realize what just happened. And once they come to the same conclusion- they drown TFC in hugs.

--------------------------------------------

“Sir… they escaped. Again.” Apatia runs up, his breath heavy as his chest rises and falls. “They’re well beyond the walls. Should we send the Arcane guard after them?”

“No. I don’t want anyone to question why we’re chasing after our champions. Erase all memories to anyone that saw their escape.” Dolios growls, rubbing his hand. Feeling the void still against his skin, trying to tear it apart.

“But what about the illegal guild? They know-”

Dolios turns away from the guildmaster, forcing the redstone door closed. Hiding the dungeons beneath the capitol building. “They are not our main concern. Let them squirm, let them think they’ve won. I have more important things to deal with. I have more power to gain.”

Dolios looks down as something rattles against the floor. He stoops low, picking up the black pawn. It’s chipped, the onyx stone heavy in his hand. The Order of Hermits have captured this pawn, but he’s just setting the stage. Playing the whole field. “Check.”

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annaraebananawriter · 4 years

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Day 6: Trust

Yellow everyone! Day 5 of ErrorDream Week, hosted by @errorxdream, here we go! I have nothing to say, really...except, I suppose...you are going to HATE the ending to this little story.

ALSO! Yes, all the prompts for this week are connected in one big story. Soooo…if you missed it, you might want to read Day 5 to understand everything in this one!

Fandom: Undertale, but specifically Dreamtale, Errortale, Inktale, Dusttale and Underswap

Characters: Dream, Nightmare (Who belong to Joku), Error (Who belongs to CQ), Ink (Who belongs to Comyet), Dust (Who belongs to ???, I don’t know) and Blue (Who belongs to P0pcornPr1nce)

Pairings: ErrorDream/Insomnia

Warnings: None, I don’t think so. Let me know!

Word Count: 1975

~oOo~

Dream was still hesitant. Error was waiting.

Nightmare had helped them both realize a way to deal with their feelings.

Now, the question was:

Did Dream trust them both? His brother, who had been trying to defeat him and fought him almost to death in the past? His soulmate, who destroys multiple words, killing thousands of people as a living? Did he trust their word?

...Could he?

Let's find out.

~oOo~

Dream hesitated as he entered Outertale. He knew that this was the place. He just knew it.

However, he had a hard time accepting that he should come here. He wanted to be with Error; he really did, but he was just...afraid. Yeah, that was the closest word. He was afraid to commit to this, that the moment Error got sick of him, he would be left behind. It had happened before. He didn't want it to repeat.

He wasn't afraid of love, not exactly. He just...had made a promise to himself that he would never fall in love, because doing so only led to hurt and sadness, both emotions that he had to avoid unless he had wanted Nightmare to find him. Although...now that Nightmare has approached him like they hadn't been fighting in the first place...he didn't know what to think anymore.

What was true and what was not?

What could he trust and what couldn't he?

It was all so confusing.

Dream stopped. He gazed up at the stars above him. They were so beautiful, with all their colours and twinkling. He smiled at it, tears still at the corner of his eyes. It was more than he deserved. He looked down at his feet, frowning.

He shouldn't be here.

He didn't deserve it.

He rubbed at his eyes as he turned, only to freeze. Error gazed back at him steadily. All was silent. They stared at each other, Error calm and almost knowing, Dream with wide eyes, tears waiting to start. It hurt. It really did.

Error seemed to want to move forward and the slightest movement from him made Dream step back. The Destroyer seemed to notice this, as he stopped and stood as still as he could. Dream stared at him, wary, chest tight.

"Can I talk?" Error asked him, tilting his head at the guardian. Dream blinked at him. "You don't have to say anything, I just ask that you listen to me and think about it. Okay?"

Dream looked down. He knew that Error would wait until he was ready. If not now, then at some other time. The Destroyer was patient. Nightmare had also said that he should listen. He still had his doubts, but...

He owed it to him, to both of them, really, to listen, right?

He looked back up and nodded quietly.

Error exhaled and relaxed. "Thank you." He fell silent for a bit, allowing Dream to relax as well before he started. "You're afraid, aren't you?"

Dream froze and stared at Error with wide eyes. How did—

"I figured it out after you left. It was rather easy, actually. It made sense." Well, that answered his question. "And..." Here it comes, the anger. Error was going to ask him why he felt that way and get angry when he told him. It's what always happened. He—

"...it's okay."

...what?

"You're afraid; not of me, not of love, but you're afraid that people who say they love only mean that because of your aura." Error dipped his head, starting to walk towards Dream, who stood rooted to the ground. "And that's okay. You're afraid and that's okay. Okay?" He stood in front of Dream, a pained look in his eyes. "I promise you that."

Dream was silent; he didn't trust himself to speak.

"I want you to know, that your aura has nothing—and I mean, nothing," Error swore it, making sure Dream got that into his head. "to do with how I feel about you. You may think it does, and that's also okay; no one has tried to show you anything else. I will. I love you, Dream, and I'm going to everything I can to show that it's genuine." The Destroyer hesitated before reaching out and holding Dream's hands tightly. "Just...give me a chance?"

Tears started down Dream's face. He didn't bother to stop them.

He still felt that Error was mistaken. That as soon as it came to light that his aura was, in fact, making these feelings up, that Error would get angry and break off what sort of friendship they had. So would Nightmare, as he cared about Error, Dream knew he did.

But...

Maybe he could enjoy it while it lasted...

"Okay." Dream whispered, squeezing Error's hands back. "One chance."

~oOo~

One month later...

~oOo~

Banter, with an underlying sound coming from a video, could be heard echoing in the Anti-Void. Error and Dream were sitting on the beanbag chair; Dream's legs were thrown over Error's lap, though the Destroyer didn't seem to mind. In front of them, was a video playing. It depicted human characters, all played by the same person. It was a show they had found in the human world of one of the AU's which was rather liked, called Sanders Sides.

Currently, they were arguing about who was the best side between their two favourites.

"It's clearly Patton, I mean come on!" Dream swore, waving his had to the video just as his favourite appeared. "He represents Morality, the most important thing to have!"

"But you forget that sometimes your Morality can be blinded." Error pointed out, waving to the screen as well as his favourite appeared. "So, you're wrong, and Deceit's clearly the best one! He protects Thomas, who, without him, would burn."

"As he also would without Morality!"

And so, it went on: Patton or Deceit (or as they would find out later, Janus)?

~oOo~

Another month later...

~oOo~

Dream was just opening the door when Blue spoke up from behind him.

"Are you going to visit Error again?" He asked, making Dream freeze in both the fear at being caught and surprise that Blue knew. Dream turned around slowly to face him, eyeing him in suspicion.

"How do you know about that?" Dream asked. There was no point in trying to cover it up if Blue had already pieced together that much.

Blue smiled mischievously. "I have my ways!" Dream narrowed his eyes. Blue was being vague again; that never boded well. Just look at what happened with the Christmas party a couple of years back... "Now, you didn't answer my question. Are you?"

Well, I kind of did but okay. "Yeah."

Blue blinked and nodded slowly in response, a serious look taking over his face before vanishing the next second. "Okay. That's fine." He grinned at Dream. "I'll be sure to come up with the perfect excuse to tell Ink about where you are." He tapped his chin for a few seconds before lighting up and pointing a finger in the air. "Aha! I know just the one; oh, I've been waiting for this day..." With that, Blue turned and hurried back to his room, supposedly.

Dream blinked. He blinked again.

...Yeah, he wasn't going to spend his time assessing what had just happened.

He was just going to go with it.

~oOo~

Yet another month later...

~oOo~

"So," Nightmare started as a new conversation topic, moving his knight and taking Dream's pawn. "How's Error been? Treating you well, I hope."

Dream blushed and looked away, smiling shyly. "He's been good. Both for himself and for me." His brow furrowed as he surveyed the board. He was losing; badly, at that. He hesitated before moving his bishop.

Nightmare smirked as he took Dream's bishop, making Dream groan. "That's good. My offer still stands, you know." He leaned back, crossing his arms. His tentacles waved behind him.

Dream glared at Nightmare. "No, you can't kill him if he breaks my heart." Dream sighed as he looked at the board. He half-heartedly moved a piece and braced himself.

Nightmare huffed. "Whatever." He smirked as he took another one of Dream's pieces and surrounded his king. "Checkmate." He leaned back as Dream groaned in defeat. "I still remain the champion of this game."

A voice came from behind him, making him hiss and startling both him and Dream. "But didn't you loss top Cross just this last—" Dust didn't get to finish as Nightmare spoke over him.

"DUST, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be with Killer?" Dust only blinked at him before turning to Dream, who perked up.

"Error's here for you." Dust said, fiddling with his knife.

Dream brightened, making Nightmare forget about Dust for a bit. The kind smiled to himself; he hasn't seen Dream this happy in a long time. Clearly, Error was the best thing to have happened to him. That made Nightmare glad.

~oOo~

Another one...

~oOo~

Outertale had become one of their favourite spots in the Multiverse. Both because it was so pretty and of the memories for them that it held. Dream and Error sat side by side, watching the stars and holding hands, legs dangling off of the cliff. They did this a lot, but it was always so peaceful.

Dream hummed as he rested his head on Error's shoulder. "I swear, they get prettier every time we come here."

Error laughed. An idea forming in his head, he side-eyed Dream as he spoke. "But not as pretty as you, Starshine." He felt Dream freeze beside him and laughed again.

Dream lifted his head, a faint but bright blush on his cheeks. He shoved Error's shoulder, but that made the other laugh even more. "S-shut up!" He huffed as Error continued laughing. He crossed his arms. "That was cheesy, even for you."

"I know, I'm sorry, but I just had to." Error looked at Dream pleadingly. "Forgive me?"

Dream smiled. "Of course."

They went back to their previous position. They stayed there for at least an hour. Eventually, they decided to leave. As Error snapped his finger and started towards the portal, he heard Dream speak up.

"Hey...Error?"

Error blinked and turned back around to face him. "Yeah?"

Dream fidgeted before taking a deep breath and walking forward. He leaned up and gave Error a loving kiss before pulling away just enough to whisper, "I love you." Error's arms wrapped around his waist and held him there.

Error smiled, a warm feeling in his chest, and whispered back, "I love you too." He pulled Dream into another kiss before they left.

~oOo~

Finally, five months after the starting talk in Outertale...

~oOo~

Ink grinned as he hopped down the stairs and made his way into the kitchen. He felt confident that today would be a good day. Blue was just finishing up at making pancakes when he entered. Ink hummed and his gaze landed on the empty seat at the table.

"Hey, Blue? Where's Dream?" He asked, sliding into his seat at the table and helping himself to some food.

Blue looked to the seat as well before grinning. "Oh, he's probably out with Error again." He paused as he thought. Ink froze, a forkful halfway to his mouth. "Or he might be with Nightmare; he's been going over there too recently." Ink set down his forkful and drummed his fingers on the table.

"What's this about Dream and Error?" He tried to sound as casual as he could, but some stiffness slipped through. He hoped that Blue didn't catch it.

Luckily for him, Blue didn't and looked at him only with surprise. "Oh, Dream hasn't told you yet?" Then he was rambling on and on about how Dream and Error were soulmates and how they sparked everything else.

Blue was oblivious to Ink's eyelights turning red as he spoke.

#my writing #my fanfiction #oneshot #dreamtale #errortale #inktale #dusttale #underswap #dream sans #error sans #nightmare sans #ink sans #blue sans #underswap sans #dust sans #errordream #errordream week

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salty-ofthe-earth · 4 years

Note

Hello, I’m sorry to bother you. I have a question about the Eucharist that I’ve never understood. Don’t kill me for asking, but do you (Catholics/Christians) believe the Eucharist truly transforms into jesus? Or is it believed to be more symbolic of sorts? I’m pagan, so I’ve only had an “outsiders” perspective, and I apologize if it’s rude to ask, if just genuinely curious and confused.

Great question and we are more than happy to answer (that’s what this blog is for!)

Catholics and Orthodox Christians very much believe that the bread (and the wine) used at the Eucharist (the Christian commemoration of Jesus’s last supper) is really, physically, and literally transformed into the whole Jesus Christ (Body, Blood Soul, and Divinity).

Because we believe that Jesus is God, we are very excited about it, so please forgive me if I go into some detail.

The main reasons are that

1. Jesus said it would be,

2. He commanded His followers to do it, and

3. All Christians from the earliest followers of Jesus until about the fourteenth century believed it.

1. Jesus says in the Gospel of John Chapter 6 (right after he miraculously fed people with bread)

“Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood, you have no life in you; he who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day. For my flesh is food indeed, and my blood is drink indeed.He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him.As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so he who eats me will live because of me. This is the bread which came down from heaven, not such as the fathers ate and died; he who eats this bread will live for ever .”

There is a lot about this passage and he says a lot more about eating his flesh, but a bunch of his followers leave in response. Instead of saying, “Wait, guys! That was a metaphor!” He turns to his twelve chosen apostles and says, “Do you also wish to go away?” Now, these twelve were the guys he explained everything to in private, the ones he kept close and trusted. Jesus is saying here that this teaching is so important that I am willing to lose you, my closest friends, over it. (They stay).

2. On the night He was going to be betrayed, imprisoned, and then eventually executed, Jesus commands his followers to do this.

And he took bread, and when he had given thanks he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” And likewise the cup after supper, saying, “This cup which is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood.

Knowing that He was going to die, He told them to do celebrate this meal wherein He offered His body. Later on (after He rises from the dead), Jesus sends the apostles with all of the power He was given from the Father (who is also the One God, but that is another post) to do as Jesus commanded (Jn 20:19-21). Chief among these things was to offer this same meal with Christians.

3. That last one seems pretty ambiguous, even if you were with me on the first point. At this point, even some Protestants can argue that it is a metaphor (and they do, but they did not exist until 1500 years after Jesus at the earliest). All of the earliest Christians, from the bible writers, before the Christianization of the Roman Empire and beyond, believed that the bread and the wine offered by a priest or bishop (the guys the twelve apostles appointed as their replacements, with the same Spirit giving them the same authority) becomes, really, the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ.

St. Paul (a Bible writer, converted by Jesus in the 30s AD) writes

For I received from the Lord what I also delivered to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took bread,and when he had given thanks, he broke it, and said, “This is my body which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.”In the same way also the cup, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of profaning the body and blood of the Lord. Let a man examine himself, and so eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For any one who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgment upon himself. (1 Cor 11)

Thus beginning the law that only baptized Christians who both are clean from serious sins and believe that priests and bishops make the Eucharist Jesus can receive the Eucharist.

Jesus was born in Bethlehem, a town which in Hebrew literally means “House of Bread.” When He was born in a stable, they laid him in a manger, that is, the trough out of which the animals eat hay. God’s a little on the nose here and St. Luke’s Gospel puts it front and center, making sure everyone knows that the birth of Jesus reflects what Christians believe about the Eucharist.

The Didache (teachings of the Apostles, dated at 60ish AD)

But let no one eat or drink of your Eucharist, unless they have been baptized into the name of the Lord; for concerning this also the Lord has said, "Give not that which is holy to the dogs." . . . But after you are filled, give thanks this way: We thank Thee, holy Father, for Thy holy name which You didst cause to tabernacle in our hearts, and for the knowledge and faith and immortality, which You modest known to us through Jesus Thy Servant; to Thee be the glory for ever. Thou, Master almighty, didst create all things for Thy name's sake; You gavest food and drink to men for enjoyment, that they might give thanks to Thee; but to us You didst freely give spiritual food and drink and life eternal through Thy Servant. Before all things we thank Thee that You are mighty; to Thee be the glory for ever

St. Ignatius of Antioch (c. 110 AD)

Take note of those who hold heterodox opinions on the grace of Jesus Christ which has come to us, and see how contrary their opinions are to the mind of God. . . . They abstain from the Eucharist and from prayer because they do not confess that the Eucharist is the flesh of our Savior Jesus Christ, flesh which suffered for our sins and which that Father, in his goodness, raised up again. They who deny the gift of God are perishing in their disputes” (Letter to the Smyrnaeans 6:2–7:1

St. Justin Martyr (writing to Romans accusing Christians of murdering and eating their members c. 155 AD)

For not as common bread and common drink do we receive these; but in like manner as Jesus Christ our Saviour, having been made flesh by the Word of God, had both flesh and blood for our salvation, so likewise have we been taught that the food which is blessed by the prayer of His word, and from which our blood and flesh by transmutation are nourished, is the flesh and blood of that Jesus who was made flesh.

And that is just the first 200 years.

So, Jesus Christ (God) is in every Catholic and Orthodox Church under the appearance of bread and wine. We are generally psyched about it because we get to worship and physically commune with our God in the way He set up for us every day if we want to. Catholics have a custom of spending time in silent prayer before the Eucharist in churches just to spend time with Him. It is honestly the best thing about being Catholic.

If you want to know more about how that works with scientific testing, why Protestants don’t have this transformation, how we prepare, or anything, feel free to ask more, but the answer to your question is “Yes, because Jesus made it so and we have always believed His word.”

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justkindaoverhereobsessing · 4 years

Text

Ellick Week Day Four (AU!)

@ellickweek

________________

‘How many potato chips can I eat without dying?’

As the question appears on Nick Torres’ screen, he makes a face. There’s no way anyone would really need to Google that question, right? He looks at one of his adjoining screens to see a slightly unflattering selfie-camera live view angle of a blonde woman with a dusting of crumbs on her top; she’s frowning as she scans the question’s search results.

Nick is the FBI agent who has just been assigned to keep covert tabs on former NSA agent Ellie Bishop, and he’s not sure what to make of his new task. He’s to pay attention to her internet usage, primarily, and watch her through her webcams as necessary. Someone far higher up the food chain than Nick thinks Bishop might be spilling state secrets.

The mere fact that she Googled her potato chip question five minutes into being watched makes Nick doubt the higher-up’s assessment entirely, but a job’s a job.

________________

Three weeks later, he hasn’t seen anything that makes him any more suspicious of her, but she’s made him raise his eyebrows at least a couple of times a day ever since that first potato chip.

On day three, she starts aggressively typing in Arabic so quickly that Nick’s translating software lags in trying to keep up. Before Nick can wonder what she’s writing about, though, the translator catches on… Bishop is merely making notes to herself on a recipe for Dolmeh-e-Kadoo, an Afghan dish consisting of stuffed squash. ‘Cook rice for two minutes longer than advised,’ Bishop types. ‘Fresh tarragon is preferable to dried.’

Someone really thinks this woman is a threat to national security?

On day nine, her biggest crime is using fifteen minutes at work to Google something called a Tater Tot Queen, clicking links that lead her to small Oklahoma newspaper websites. Nick checks into the background info he was given on her, and the Oklahoma thing starts to make sense. The Tater Tot Queen thing, though, remains a mildly endearing mystery.

Day eighteen brings drama. Ellie has her laptop open and facing the living room of her apartment, giving Nick just the view he needs to watch her fight with her husband.

“You could communicate if you wanted to, Jake! I’m not asking for classified details! I just want to know how your freaking day was!”

Her husband—who Nick decides quickly he doesn’t like at all—doesn’t respond kindly. “Hey, you’re the one who quit the NSA, Ellie. You’re the one who made it so we can’t talk about anything anymore. Surely your memory isn’t that short—you know damn well how strict the rules are about sharing information!”

Though Nick should really agree with Jake here—especially given the reason Ellie is being investigated—he finds that he can’t after Jake storms from the room, leaving Ellie on the verge of frustrated tears.

He wonders when he started thinking of her as Ellie.

________________

Four months into the assignment, Nick starts to strongly suspect that Jake is cheating on Ellie, and he does something stupid.

His department of the FBI has a number of highly secure servers that are untraceable. Anyone trying to pinpoint where an agent is working from will be bounced by a proxy from location to location all over the world at a speed human hackers just can’t match. That makes anonymity possible in a world where secrets are hard to keep, and Nick takes advantage. He just can’t help himself.

He sends Ellie a text masked by the servers. Don’t trust Jake. Trace his steps last week and you’ll find out why.

He watches through her cell’s front-facing camera as Ellie’s expression morphs into one of suspicion. Who is this? she replies.

Nick: A friend.

Ellie: Sorry, “friend”, but I think I’ll trust my husband over you.

Nick knows he has threatened his own life and livelihood enough as it is, so he doesn’t reply. He watches Ellie start to consider what he said, though, and the risk feels worth it.

When Ellie discovers a few weeks later that Nick was right and her marriage subsequently falls apart, Nick finds that watching her pain is almost unbearable. He sends one more text.

He never deserved you.

________________

Six months in, Nick watches in disbelief as Ellie eats her third junk food snack of the day… first, it was a honey bun. Then, it was hot Cheetos. Now, it’s half a sleeve of Thin Mint Girl Scout Cookies. How on Earth does she manage to stay so fit?

Though it’s a moronic thing to do, he reaches out to her again. Ellie, I’m concerned about your health. Don’t forget to eat real food in between snacks, woman.

She responds almost instantly, making Nick grin. Seriously, who is this?

Nick: I meant it when I said I was a friend.

Ellie: Friends don’t text friends creepy, cryptic messages.

Nick experiences a stroke of genius—he’ll just tell the truth. She’ll never believe him. Okay, you caught me. I’m the FBI agent assigned to watch you. ;)

He can see Ellie roll her eyes. Ha ha, very funny. Who are you really?

You can call me Nick.

Okay then, “Nick.” I’m blocking your number now. Bye.

For some reason, though, she doesn’t, and Nick feels absurdly like he’s won some sort of unexpected prize.

________________

Talking to Ellie becomes the highlight of his job. Though she continuously asks Nick who he is and gets frustrated when he never really answers, she never stops replying to him. Something in that analytical mind of hers seems to think that if he was anything other than a benign—if slightly eerie—mystery in her life, he would have acted against her already.

In the beginning, she puts a lot of effort into figuring out his identity. She traces the IP address and the spoofed phone number he uses to contact her. She Googles a variety of increasingly unlikely questions trying to find clues as to his identity. She even has one of her coworkers dig deeply into the servers he’s using, but the FBI is nothing if not thorough in covering its tracks.

Then one day, she seems to decide that she doesn’t really care who he is, and she starts to chat with him more casually.

Sometimes, they talk about whatever Nick has observed her doing, but sometimes, they just… talk. Nick eventually realizes that she’s become something of a confessional for him; she’s both intelligent and unbiased enough to give solid advice, and kind and funny enough to make him feel better about whatever he happens to be going through. It hardly matters that they’ve never met and that there’s a constant veil of secrecy between them… they’re friends, as ridiculous as that is.

________________

Nick has been assigned to watch her for an entire year before he starts to realize how much he hates doing this. Surveilling unaware people never really bothered him before, but he realizes that he doesn’t want to keep invading Ellie’s privacy like this. He wants to be a part of her life organically. He doesn’t see a single reason she’s being watched at all, and it feels increasingly wrong to target her when she hasn’t done anything wrong.

In his latest report to his superiors, he details the mundane things Ellie does in her spare time. At the end, he notes ‘suspect displays no suspicious behavior. Recommend terminating surveillance.’

Then he decides all at once that he’s done.

Officially done.

He types up a letter on his computer, prints it, and drops it in his boss’ mailbox. Then he takes his phone off of all the FBI servers and unspoofs his number to text Ellie one more time.

My name is Nick Torres. I told you I was an FBI agent assigned to monitor you, and I was telling the truth. I just quit my job. If you don’t believe me, or if you do and you want to talk, I’ll be at Sweet Science Coffee this afternoon. I’ll be the one with the muscles.

Then he stands up from his desk for the last time and says goodbye to the J. Edgar Hoover Building.

________________

She doesn’t show up.

Nick sits at the coffee shop in NoMa sipping Guatemalan dark roast for two hours before eventually concluding that Ellie has no interest in meeting him. He understands, honestly—he stole her privacy for twelve long months, and that has to be hard to look past.

Doesn’t mean her absence doesn’t suck.

As he leaves, though, he physically runs into her just outside the door. She stumbles and he reaches out automatically to steady her. “Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I—” she starts, and then cuts herself off. “Nick?”

He gives her a little grin; his heart is racing, and he’s not used to not being utterly confident around women. “The one and only,” he replies. “Nice to meet you in person, Ellie.”

She blinks at him. “Nice to meet you, too—I think?”

Nick chuckles, his hand rising up to scratch awkwardly at the back of his head. “I can understand the confusion. I wasn’t sure you’d come, actually. I waited for a while.”

Ellie gives him an incredulous look. “Well, that’s your own fault, isn’t it?”

Nick winces. “Yeah. I mean, I was just doing my job, but—”

“No, not that, you idiot. I mean that you texted you’d be here ‘this afternoon’. You never specified what time, and then you turned your stupid phone off!”

“I… Oops. Sorry, Ellie.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Why did you want to meet me, anyway? I was too curious to stay away.”

Nick gives her a look. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“If it was obvious, would I have asked?”

Nick rolls his eyes to the high heavens. He adores her, but she has a unique ability to try his patience. “You must be blind. Here, I’ll spell it out for you—I think I’ve been in love with you ever since you Googled how many potato chips you had to eat before it was lethal.”

“Oh.” Her voice is suddenly very small, and her eyes are suddenly very wide.

Then she’s jumping at him and knocking him over as she presses her lips to his.

His last thought before he gets lost in the utter bliss that is her kiss is that he’s going to have to make sure they serve potato chips at their wedding.

#ellickweek #ncis #ncis fanfiction #ellick #ellie bishop #nick torres #this started silly and got sillier as i wrote lol #i love aus!

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geeky-introvert · 5 years

Text

Heathens Touch . Hvitserk X OC

Summary: Heahmund wasn’t the only Christian taken prisoner; his daughter was the second alongside him, another great warrior that Hvitserk took an interest in....One-shot.

Word count: 4000

Warning: Violence, light swearing, slight dub-con with smut.

Tag List: @lisinfleur @mdlady @didiintheblog @alicedopey @lupy22 @rekdreams247 @mblaqgi @oddsnendsfanfics @aphnxrising @happydaysandersen @therealcalicali @naaladareia @inforapound @captstefanbrandt @waiting4inspiration @tabalugax @p8tn0lish

If anyone else wants to be added to the tag list let me know please.

Maria knew very well that the women back home didn’t fight. It wasn’t god’s way, it was spoken so highly that women like her were dishonored and abandoned by god. Her father, Heahmund, was the bishop that people all admired and he was the only one that accepted his own daughter wanted to fight like a warrior.

Heahmund fell on love with a woman impersonating a man. He had discovered her secret when she was bathing in a river. He promised to keep her secret because she fought just as well as he did. No one ever found out. They married and had their beautiful daughter, Maria, which unfortunately cost the life of her mother’s.

She loved her father more than anything; he was her inspiration to become what she was now. He sacrificed so much to raise her and achieved more over the years. Even though so many people disapproved of a woman fighting among men, her father was always at her side supporting and training her to become what no one could believe in. A miracle, he would call it.

On that day they had planned in taking back York that the Heathen’s had invaded but it was sighted by a scout that they had left. It was too good to be true but once they had arrived the town was cleared out with what looked like bodies had been burned and everyone thought it was over. Her father looked concerned because of the rats; so many rats were running around their feet like something had frightened them. She tried not to worry too much like him and celebrate with everyone else.

She told herself from the start that something wasn’t right, and she should’ve listened.

It was a trap. The heathen’s climbed out from the tunnels below created by the romans and attacked them by surprise. She fought against them with force and brutality, slashing and blocking at their attacks against her before she overpowered them. It had been a while since she had a good fight and let out a yell as she ran towards another.

He was quick, and well trained against her attacks. She watched him stumble back after she threw her fist at his face and took a good look at her with everyone else fighting around them.

Hvitserk was a little surprised. She was the first Christian woman he had seen in battle and wanted to know her story. A wide grin plastered over his face and charged at her with a predatory growl.

It felt like hours as they fought one another and she felt herself growing weaker while he seemed to be fine like the fight had been nothing for him. She hated losing and feeling her tiredness only made her angrier. He continued to grin at her as she knelt in the mud trying to catch her breathe. With as much strength she could pull she launched at him with a solid swing from her sword. He was caught off guard by her sudden strength but knocked her back once more on the mud and kicked her sword aside, which prevented her from defending herself.

The heathen’s had won the battle that day.

Since the two started fighting she knew he wasn’t going to kill her, but that didn’t stop her from fighting against his vice grip as he dragged her to where the heathen’s were gathered. She saw her father was captured just like her. Hvitserk dragged her to the front and presented her to their leader, Ivar. She only spat at him which made everyone laugh, including Ivar.

Her father was given the worst treatment since he was a prisoner and was left chained up outside in the rain and mud with nothing to eat or drink. Ivar wanted him at his weakest. She expected the same treatment, however that never happened.

She didn’t understand their language but knew Hvitserk had argued with Ivar about something, and she suspected it was about her. She was tied up on the floor but she was where the heathen’s were feasting. Ivar crawled towards her with Hvitserk behind him, both with playful smiles lingering.

“Now, what is your name?” Ivar spoke the language well she thought.

“Maria.” She answered lowly.

“Pretty name.” He licked his lips and she recoiled back. “You are the first Christian women we have seen fighting. You fight well, according to my brother. Tell me, what’s the bishop to you? He seems rather concerned about you.”

“He’s my father, Heathen.” She spat what he was but he only found it amusing.

“I think you’ll fit right in with us, Christian.” He then crawled away back where he came from.

Hvitserk knelt down at her side and observed her like some sort of trophy, which she was. He brushed the back of his finger along her cheek and she flinched away from his touch. She glared at him while he gave a strangle smile.

“Maria.” That was the first thing he said to her.

She could only narrow her eyes at him before he stood up and left her alone. It wouldn’t be the last time she saw him. So, in her own time, she prayed.

Being in the strange new land was a different experience, and oddly Maria was intrigued. The women in their lands held so much more power and found it fascinating. She tried not to let it distract her, because there were far more important things, like being a prisoner.

Ivar had brought them back to a king’s home. Harald Fairhair they called him. No one else spoke the Saxon’s language besides Ivar and Hvitserk.

She was left under Hvitserk’s wing which at first she found to be a horrible punishment. She despised him for as long as she could and ignored all his bothering questions, however in the end she caved, for reasons she wasn’t even sure herself.

He wanted to know everything about her and not just for information to keep against her but he was genially interested. She found it a little amusing since he acted like a little boy again and felt a small smile appear on her. Then she asked him things, about himself and their culture, and eventually she asked about their gods which did surprise her wanting to know, but she felt it would be interesting.

It didn’t change her belief. But she did learn a lot from him.

Ivar had allowed her to speak with her father a few times during their capture and he thanked the lord that she was unharmed. He told her about Ivar’s offer and she said to agree to it, because that meant it was a better chance for them going home. He said he’d need to think about it, but told her to be strong and that he loved her.

When the time came, her father proved himself by killing another heathen which Ivar highly approved. They were to go to war against other heathen’s, and when that was over they could maybe find a way back home.

When the day came though, Ivar wouldn’t allow her to come.

“Why not? I can fight, probably better than most of your men.” She argued.

“Oh, Hvitserk has already made that clear to me, but I do not trust you. I can’t have you running off now during battle, can I? You’ll remain behind and that’s the end of it.”

She hated it. But there was nothing she could do.

“I’m sorry, Maria.” Her father came up from behind and brought her in for a hug, the only comfort she’s had in a long time. “I will return.”

“I’ll pray for your safe return. May god be with you, father.”

“And you, my fierce warrior.” She managed a smirk at his comment.

Days went by.

When she heard the horns she knew the ships had returned. She had squeezed passed people to meet her father on the docks only to be met with a dreadful scene. People were screaming in pain, limps missing and bloodied all over. Families waited for their loved ones but many didn’t return from the battle they lost. Looking around her she frantically looked for her farther but couldn’t see him, then tried looking for a familiar face and ask what happened. When this failed she went to the only place she could think of where Hvitserk would be, if he survived.

She entered the great hall and felt a strange relief when she saw Hvitserk without a scratch on him. He saw her enter and stood up like he expected a welcome back embrace.

“Where’s my father?”

Ivar laid down on a bench staring up at the ceiling like he was lost in thought. He didn’t answer her at first, like he was pondering on how to answer her question.

“He is dead.”

The shock made her numb. “You’re lying.”

“Why would I lie? He died in battle, it’s that simple.” He didn’t care.

It was hard to believe that someone so important to her wasn’t coming back. She felt like she lost her place and purpose in life, it was just something she thought not possible. Her father was one of the best warriors, and suddenly he was gone.

She only continued to stare at him in fear and anger, conflicted between hating him and crying out of grief. When she didn’t answer he looked over at her with a smirk.

“We live and we die, it happens. In the next battle you’ll fight for me in honour of your father.”

“What makes you think I’ll fight for you?” She was angry, both the brothers knew that.

“Anger is a completely natural emotion. Death may seem cruel and unfair, but you’ll come around eventually. Besides, you don’t have a choice. You’re still my prisoner and you’ll do as I say.”

“Fuck you.” The insult surprised them until Ivar let out a humours chuckle. Ivar then sat up straight from the bench.

“Such bold word’s from a Christian. Maria, your father is dead and you won’t be returning to you lands anytime soon. What do you have left to lose?”

With the dagger she had hidden she lunged forward letting out a growl and prepared to stab him. Hvitserk was too quick for her and managed to hold her back away from his brother as she struggled in his tight grip. She could only kick her legs furiously and struggle more until he squeezed her hand so tight that she was forced to let go of the dagger. The tears finally came and felt herself sag against Hvitserk’s chest as her emotions finally caved. Behind her she heard the soft hushing coming from him and it sent another strange comforting feel through her.

“That wasn’t a smart move.” Ivar’s words were toxic. “Perhaps I should invite the remaining of my warriors in here and let everyone of them have a good rut around with you. Would you like that? Hmm?” She knew his threat was real and only shook her head silently. “No? I suggest you start behaving now that your daddy isn’t here. Hvitserk, keep her under control. You’re the reason she’s still alive so she’s your responsibility. Now get her out of my sight.”

Hvitserk had taken her back to his room where he left her alone until the night fall upon them. She remained on the bed the entire time, curled up in a ball and cried hard until there was nothing left. Prayer after prayer she asked god for the safe return of her father but it turned out god didn’t want him returning.

She felt like she was being punished for what she was, that perhaps being a warrior wasn’t the way to go, and to be a lady like everyone had always wanted. There was nothing else in life that mattered anymore to her. She felt empty, lonely, the grief only hurt more to longer she was alone in the room.

Hvitserk entered with a plate of food and ale for her and set it beside the bed for her. She only glanced at him as he strolled over to the small basin full of water before she dug into the food and downed the ale.

She glanced up once more only to freeze her chewing when he removed his tunic and shirt and she got a good view of his toned back. Maria cursed herself for thinking such sins, it was wrong.

For a moment she didn’t realise that she had been staring until he turned to face her with his braids out. She quickly looked back down at her plate of food and finished the remaining left overs, but she knew he was smirking.

“Like what you see?” She ignored him. “Not talking now?” He took the plate and cup from her and set it aside before he sat down on the furs covering the bed. “It was a stupid move to attack Ivar like that. He could’ve killed you right there. Ivar isn’t one to be taunted, you’re just lucky I stopped you.” It was like he was sculling her like a child and felt her face heat up in embarrassment.

“What did Ivar mean? When he said you’re the reason I’m still alive, what did he mean?” She had to know.

“It means how it sounds. I asked Ivar to not have you killed back in York, and he said only if I kept you out of trouble.” He explained but it made no sense to her still.

“Why? I thought I was alive because of my father.” To mention of him still hurt her broken hurt.

“No, Ivar didn’t care about that.” He scooted closer, too close for her liking but remained in the same spot. “When we fought I admired your strength, and your beauty, all of that was memorising.” She furrowed her brows at him.

“I don’t understand why you’re saying this.”

He didn’t answer her. Instead he touched her face with his hand. The first time he did that she flinched, and other times he tried she would either bat his hand and move out from his reach. This time she didn’t flinch or move and let his coarse hand touch her smooth cheek. What she then realised was he was leaning closer to her and she tried keeping the distance. All she only managed to do was lie down against the furs and have him straddle over her trembling body.

“What are you doing?” She started to panic a little as his face grew closer to her. The sudden realisation of what he wanted hit her.

“What I’ve wanted to do since the moment I saw you.”

He kissed her forcefully, moaning at the contact, and had her pinned against the bed as she struggled against him.

“Hvitserk stop!” She tried to push him off and when that failed she tried pleading him out of fear or thinking clearly. “Please I’ve never….” The shame lingered too long and he noticed, but he wasn’t surprised, her being a Christian with their beliefs.

“I know.” He showed no motives to stop and continued to kiss and nip her neck while listening to her frustrated sounds.

She hated how her body was reacting to his kisses. ‘Lord, forgive me.’

She hated the moan she made which made him smirk against her skin.

She hated how weak she felt against his hold and felt like a mouse trapped under the claws of a cat.

His hand travelled down and started to carefully lift the shift of her dress up over her knee and thigh. Maria jerked under the foreign touch and a weak whimper left her over how helpless she felt.

“Why are you doing this?” It was her final plea.

“Because it’s meant to happen, don’t be afraid.”

He didn’t stop his motives but he did kiss her lips again, more tenderly, and even managed to invade his tongue in her own mouth, tasting each other. It was strangely pleasant to her, the taste of him wasn’t what she expected and found herself kissing back.

‘Lord, forgive me.’ She gave one final silent prayer before falling under his spell.

Hvitserk let go of her wrists and smirked when she wrapped them over his back with hesitance, the feeling of her accepting his touch almost drove him over the edge. He broke the deep kiss and looked down at her out of breath before he gave a quick peak and scooted his way down. She looked down hesitantly and watched his head disappear under her skirts.

Maria had never felt something as sensational as she threw her head back against the furs as she felt his warm tongue rolling over her folds. It should’ve been wrong, but couldn’t bring herself to think like that anymore, being way too distracted by Hvitserk kissing her womanhood.

The pleasure was slowly building and couldn’t figure out how it was so sinful. The growing pleasure rose as she started to move her hips against his moving tongue against her whiling a small pleasure gasps escaped her. His tongue dipped into her tight entrance and she reached down to grasp at his loose hair followed by a surprised moan. He did it again, and again, lapping at her juices before he pulled away fully. She winced at the loss.

He stood up and helped her stand with him. Her legs felt weak under her weight and looked at him unsure what he was doing. It was answered when he started to slip the dress off from her shoulders and pull them down until it pooled at her feet. She reacted by covering herself and avoided his gaze, but that meant nothing to him.

“Don’t be shy. I want to see your beauty.” He moved her hands away and admired her breasts with his lingering gaze.

He bit his lips at the sight of her and touched her mounds with a gentle grasp.

Maria tried telling herself that she was a fighter and should be stronger than she already felt. Even the loss of her father wasn’t enough to distract her. It was like it had to happen. They had to have sex.

He gently pushed her back on the bed and kept their eyes together as he tugged his trousers off and kicked them aside. Her face burned knowing he was fully naked in her view but didn’t look at his already hardened cock.

Slowly he crawled over her once more and pulled her up more along the bed so they weren’t hanging over the edge. A small whimper left her when his hand once again travelled down between them and rubbed her wet folds. She closed her eyes and tried to relax under his touch before she felt another pressure of his finger being inserted into her tight entrance.

“Shhhh,” he cooed her softly when she winced a little under his probing.

She didn’t know what to do but he did, and so she allowed it to happen, knowing she wouldn’t be able to stop it now they had come this far. A second finger joined the first and she hissed as she felt herself being stretched by his thick fingers. It was strange, and hurt a little, but when he started to finger fuck her entrance she welcomed the new sensation building up in her belly.

His lips suckled at her nipples for a bit, teasing them with small tugs and biting her softly earning surprised moans from her.

“How does it feel?” He asked knowingly.

“I-it feels different.” She didn’t know how to answer him.

“Are you in pain?”

“Not really?” Again, she wasn’t sure how to answer.

His fingers were gone and he kissed her passionately as he shifted himself between her thighs. She felt his hardness and prepared herself mentality for what was to come. The kiss was a good distraction which allowed him to tease her opening before thrusting himself into her, taking her virtue and burring himself into her depths.

The burning pain lingered and she couldn’t stop herself from crying out softly while she dug her nails into his back. It was done. There was no going back. His growling vibrated against her ear which made her shiver under him. He remained still, allowing her to adjust to his size to planted tender kisses over her face and neck. The jester was comforting and she wanted to feel the same pleasure not long ago again.

After a moment he moved his hips a little against her to see her reaction. There was another low hiss but after he did the same motion again she let out a low moan as she felt herself clench around his throbbing cock.

He started off slow with gentle thrusts and burring himself deep letting out low groans into her ear. The pain dulled into numbness as the tingles of pleasure started to spark. She couldn’t deny it anymore, it was too much, and she let out a pleasured moan loudly into the room.

“Fuck…Maria, oh fuck.” His words were snarled almost deadly as he started to build up his thrusting, grunting at each thrust he gave from his hips.

“Hvitserk…” She moaned his name and wrapped herself around his rocking body.

His cock brushed against her tender walls and bottomed out making her groan at the contact. Their sweaty bodies entwined together as his thrusts grew heavier, so much so the bed creaked under them which oddly added the sensation.

The grip he had over her hips grew tighter and slammed himself into her repeatedly showing no mercy, and she didn’t want it. She craved every moment of their wild coupling. His balls slapped her rear over and over again and she dug her finger nails into his rear earning a low hiss from him. No more talk was needed, but it was about to come to an end for them.

Hvitserk roared out as he came and gave jerky thrusts in her as he filled her while she milked him. Soon she followed with a startled gasp and tightened her grip around him, enjoying it while it lasted.

It was later that both laid side by side against the furs catching their breaths while their bodies glittered in the candle lights. Maria honestly didn’t know how to feel, but knew everything changed. The moment she lost that fight against him she knew it would, it just took her so long to realise that. She stared at the ceiling lost in deep thought over what was going to happen after what had happened. There weren’t many choices for her, and felt safest with Hvitserk.

The whole time he had been with her he had made sure she was fed and left alone by others. Perhaps he cared, and deep down he had somehow found a small spot to settle for good within her.

She had made her mind up.

‘Lord, forgive me, Father, forgive me, I have sinned. But I loved every moment of it.’

“What are you thinking about?” His question brought her back from her thoughts.

“I don’t want to think anymore.” She rolled herself until she laid her head against his chest and welcomed the warmth from him.

He brought his arms around her and pulled her closer against him. It was everything he wanted, to have a beautiful strong shield-maiden in his arms and he never wanted to let her go.

She was his and he was hers.

#vikings #hvitserk #hvitserk x oc #hvitserk x reader #fanfiction #fandom #hvitserk imagine #smut

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blackmissfrizzle · 4 years

Text

No One Has to Know

Pairing: Angel Reyes x black!reader

Summary: Since there isn’t a lot of angel Reyes x black reader imagines going on here I was wondering if u can write a request for me that. You and angel are in a secret relationship because y’all are ten years apart and your mom( who’s mayor) finds out?? Requested by @briannab1234

Warnings: None for this part

A/N: This was going one way and then it went another, but I hope you all enjoy!

It was a hot ass day in Santo Padre, so it was no surprise that Adrian’s raspa shop was full. Today you were accompanied with your fake group of friends (except for Bryce) aka the group of friends your mom approved of.

When your pickle raspa with chamoy and lucas was finished, you searched for an empty table, only for you to find the one table you didn’t want to sit at because of who sat next to it. The Mayans. Or more specifically Angel Reyes, your secret boyfriend. The argument from last night replayed in your head as you stared at the table.

“Why not?” You yelled, throwing down your bag.

“Because its not smart Y/N.” Angel stared at you through a cloud of cigarette smoke while you paced back and forth.

Sitting in his lap you took his cigarette and put it out. Cradling his face, you kissed him. “What’s stupid about wanting my boyfriend to be my date at my graduation party?”

Angel scrubbed his face in frustration. This argument between the two of you was becoming more frequent. You wanted to make your relationship public, but he didn’t. He didn’t want everyone else to confirm what he already thought. He didn’t want them to say he was a low life and no good for the mayor’s daughter or that he was too old for you (his 34 to your 24).

“Listen, querida we can go public another time. Just take that loser Rob and make sure he keeps his hands to himself.” Angel kissed the top of your head to end the argument.

You hit him in the chest and pushed off him. “Fuck you, Angel! If you just want me to be your little fucktoy and not your girlfriend just say so.” Before he could stop you, you were already out the door. Once again, his insecurities fucked him over.

“Hey, yo, Y/N over here!” Coco’s voice pulled you out of your head. He was pointing to the table next to him. No way you could pretend that you didn’t see the table now.

Starting your way over there Eileen grabbed your wrist to stop you. “How about we just eat them to go?” Her green eyes wide with fear.

You broke out of what she thought was an iron grip. “Its over 100 degrees outside. Trust me they won’t bite, unless,” you leaned in closer to her and dropped your voice lower. “you want them to.”

Leaving Eileen in all her white woman shock, Bryce followed you to the empty table. Both of you greeted the men at the table besides you. You barely gave any energy to Angel while Bryce gave Gilly all her attention due to her crush on him.

Eventually, your friends joined you, still wary of the Mayans. Rob sat next to you and wrapped his arm behind your seat. Angel wanted to break that arm in half.

This midday delight was less enjoyable than you wanted it to be. It was tense and not just because you weren’t talking to Angel. Your friends made it a point to ignore your Mayan friends and while the Mayans did their best to make your snotty friends uncomfortable by making the most vulgar jokes (which were hilarious by the way).

Most of the time, Bryce and you talked to the Mayans. They were by far better conversationalists. Plus, you and Coco had a lot to talk about since you were Letty’s mentor at school.

In the middle of listening to EZ tell an embarrassing story about Angel, Rob saw Angel staring at you a little too long. So, slightly he tilted your chin towards him and kissed you.

You scrambled to end the kiss. In no way shape or form you led Rob to believe you were in a relationship. Even though he was your escort to the party, you explicitly told him that y’all were going nowhere.

When the kiss ended, Angel was nowhere to be found. A great part of you wanted to dump the raspa on Rob, but you didn’t want to make a mess in Adrian’s place. Instead you punched him in the face and left the shop with a bunch of cackling Mayans and Bryce.

It didn’t take you long to find Angel. He was a couple of blocks away at his dad’s carniceria. “Angel, I-”

He held his hand up to stop you. Flicking his cigarette down, he stomped it out. “Done with your ivy league boyfriend?”

“Don’t do that. I wasn’t expecting him to kiss me.”

Stepping down from the stoop, Angel got somewhat eye level with you. “You definitely let him kiss you longer than necessary.”

A black escalade rolled up, revealing up, revealing your mom behind the window. “Y/N, dear we need to get ready for the party.”

“Hi, Ms. Mayor.” Angel waved at your mom and in return she gave him a curt nod.

Patting you on your arm, Angel gave you his congratulations and returned to his father’s shop.

Once inside the car, the tirade started. ‘What did I tell you about those Mayans? Have your fun with them in private not in public.’ ‘Stay away from that Reyes boy. I don’t like how he looks at you.’ ‘You could’ve at least been hanging out with the smart one.’ ‘You should be focused on your career and Rob.’

Every line you heard before and just like every other time you were ignoring each word. Her nor Angel was going to ruin this relationship.

“I don’t know, Pops. Maybe I should wait til she gets home, and we can celebrate together. Just the two of us.”

Felipe fixed his son’s tie. “Nonsense, Angel. You’re going to your girlfriend’s graduation party. She wants you there, son.”

“What if I embarrass her?”

“You won’t,” EZ quietly entered the room, dressed up as well. “We’ll make sure of it.”

“We?”

EZ pulled back the curtains to reveal the Mayans all in suits on their bikes. “We got your back, bro.”

Angel squeezed his brother into a tight hug. “Thanks, mano.”

“Let’s go get your girl.” EZ clapped Angel on his back.

This had to be the most extra party ever, but extra was your mom’s middle name. All you wanted was a simple bbq, good music, drinks, and your friends. But nope this turned into an extravaganza and networking opportunity for your mom.

“You can’t be here!” You heard your mother’s voice despite her trying to keep her voice down.

Your eyes followed her voice and the sight you saw left you breathless. Angel in a dark striped suit strutting towards you with the rest of the mc in suits as well, trailing behind him.

“What are they doing here?” Rob asked with a mix of fear and disgust. He was truly a horrible person; you didn’t know how you put up with him for so long.

“He came,” you happily whispered. You shoved your champagne flute in Rob’s hands not caring that it was spilling on him. Your only goal was to get to Angel.

The dress you were wearing didn’t allow you to jump Angel like you wanted to. He could see the conflict on your face, so instead he twirled you around to fully admire the way the dress clung to your body and how it brightened the aura around you.

After your 360 turn, Angel twirled you inside his arms, grabbed the sides of your face and leaned down to kiss you. “You look beautiful, querida.” He whispered against your lips, his hand running up and down your leg exposed by the hip high slit.

“Not as good as you,” You bit your lip at the sight of Angel in a suit. His jet-black hair perfectly gelled back, his suit clinging to his body.

“Impossible. Now introduce everyone to your boyfriend.” The slap to your ass didn’t bothered you, in fact you laughed it off and began introducing Angel as the love of your life. The shocked gasps of the stuck-up residents of Santo Padre as you made the introductions did not go unnoticed by you, but you also didn’t give one flying fuck.

On the other side of the room you could not hear the most objected protest of them all. “Get him off my daughter!” The mayor ordered the president of the Mayans.

“No can do, Izzie,” Bishop smirked. Whenever he could he’d like to stick it to the mayor.

“Its Isadora,” she corrected him. “I will not allow my daughter make the same mistakes I did.”

The holier than thou act was grinding Bishop’s gears. There was a time when the mayor wasn’t a stuck-up bitch. “Watch it, Ms. Mayor. If it wasn’t for my fucked up feelings for you, I’d shoot you where you stand.”

“Obispo, please.” Her tone softer, reminiscent of the times she writhed under him. “She has a future. She has a future outside of Santo Padre. Don’t let my daughter-”

“Our daughter.” It was his turn to correct her.

Isadora sputtered. There was only one other person she told the truth to and that because she was caught, and he promised to never to tell anybody. “How did- how did you know?”

“I always suspected, but you kept her in LA with her ‘dad’ most of the time, so I couldn’t confirm until she kept popping up at the club. Easy enough to get DNA for a test.”

In all her being, Isadora wanted to slap the man. “You had no right.”

“And you had no right to keep her from me!” Bishop was upset at all the missed opportunities. You were a lovely young woman and he missed out on the chance to watch you grow up, but now he refused to stay away from you anymore.

Your yelling tore the two away. The unexpected guest getting all the attention now.

“Daddy!” Your arms encircled around the older man. His appearance was a welcomed surprise.

When he got done spinning you around, you introduced him to Angel. The three of you engaging in an animated conversation.

Isadora and Bishop watched off in the corner. Isadora in shock and Bishop in jealously.

“Tell her or I will.” Bishop threatened his old flame before he left heartbroken from seeing his daughter call another man dad.

A/N 2: Were yall ready for that surprise?

Tags: @angrythingstarlight @starrynite7114 @briannab1234 @chaneajoyyy @titty-teetee @thickemadame @brownsugarcoffy @ifoundmyhappythought @marvelmaree @browngirldominion

#black!reader #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x black!reader #Mayans MC #mayans fandom #mayans fanfic #mayans mc fanfic #angel reyes fanfic #frizzlefic #frizzlewrites

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the-writerly-night-owl · 4 years

Text

Strengthening Family Bonds

Desire and Decorum/Ernest Sinclaire x MC

Summary: How one argument could bring the family closer then ever.

Author’s Note: my final story for a bit and will be back for the OH2 and possibly TRH2 depending on ideas. I think everyone is sick and tired of me notifying you when I posted for 41 days straight lol. I’ll be reachable most of the time so send me stuff if you have something you want to see written. This is in honor of the final chapter of D&D releasing today. At least I know that he and MC will have a big family together.

Ernest Sinclaire held his daughter close to him watching Bishop Monroe blew out the candles. The small girl sleeping his arms. Clara had taken the quill and signed the name in the christening book. Their parish had kept track of all local births. Including their own children.

“Georgiana Sinclaire,” said Bishop Monroe smiling at the babe. “What a beautiful name.”

Standing up straight Ernest and Clara smiled at their newest child. In the pews behind them Vincent and Ernie sat next to Percival. Dominique dabbed her eyes emotional at the baptism. Harry and Theresa just smiled at them. Briar and Edmund trying to wrangle their youngest from running up to join them.

With the mass finally over did they leave to head back for the day. The party would come next before they had left to prepare. Instead of Edgewater, they would be at Ledford, just like they had done with Ernie and Vincent.

“Congratulations you two,” said Edmund as they passed him and Briar.

“Thank you,” said Clara holding the candle that Bishop Monroe had given them.

They were finally alone with their family did Ernest lean in and press a tender kiss to her head. She had taken their daughter and entered the carriage first. Then the children before Ernest pulled in through the back.

Once back at home did Ernest kiss his daughter’s head and then each of the kids as they got out of the carriage together. People would be here soon or at least the people of their social circle would be in about an hour.

His head snapped when he heard Percival saying his name.

The young boy was about 9 now and he was just happy to have him here.

“Ernest Clara, there’s something that I’ve been meaning to ask you about,” he said clearly. Clara shared a look with him and to continue. “I… I don’t know if it would be possible, but I want to meet my father.”

Ernest felt his heart speed up as Clara’s eyes was just wide. Oh. They knew that this day would come especially since they knew that Mr. Richards wasn’t dead yet. In fact, he was still in the tower with Gideon as far as he knew.

“I’m sorry,” said Ernest confused.

“I love being with you and I really like how supportive you are, but I wonder if I’d be able to have that relationship with my father,” he said. “I’d like to know what he’s like at least or what traits I get from him. Aunt tells me about my mother.”

Oh no. Ernest and Clara shared a look as they weren’t sure how to go about it. He knew exactly how he felt. He would protect his family from Mr. Richards. What if he wanted some kind of revenge? Or what if he was already dead before he could even get to know his only son.

Not only that but neither he or Clara had told him about what Mr. Richards was like. Or even where he was. It was kind of hard to turn their love story into a bedtime story. Not only that but by the time the family would figure out, time would have passed. Maybe he would tell him on Percival’s wedding day.

Before rationing out a good response his words weren’t the greatest. “No,” he said. “Your father is…”

He looked to Clara for help as she shook her head.

“The story is complicated Percival. I wouldn’t mind telling you about him, but I can’t bring you to him,” she said carefully.

“Oh,” said Percival but looked to Ernest. “So, can I learn about him?”

Ernest just stared at Clara surprised at her answer. She had given him a knowing look before he looked at Percival. “Can you leave me and Clara alone for a minute? This is something that we must discuss together.”

The nine-year-old looked defeated before nodding and leaving them alone. The boys would be the in nursey and Percival would join them. Georgiana with her nurse for right now. Ernest had taken Clara’s hand and started down the steps. Maybe the walk would help clear his head. Although that wouldn’t exactly help solve all their problems.

Clara stumbled into him before they were walking out down the worn path. It was about half way down the path did he take a long breath. They had made a vow when they were married that they wouldn’t fight at Ledford. They would go outside or Edgewater, where Clara once joked all the drama happened.

Staring at her he gripped her wrist.

“What were you thinking?” he asked harshly. “We can’t tell him about Mr. Richards. I can’t, I won’t let him know about his father. You shouldn’t tell him either.”

Staring at him Clara just pulled her wrist away from his hand. “And why not? I mean we told a half way story as a bedtime story.”

“That’s different that’s a fairytale, this is reality. What if Richards is dead? What if telling him the truth scars him? I’d rather not fight or even talk about this on Georgiana’s baptism of all days.”

She stomped her foot down but her voice calm. “Maybe that’s why he brought he brought it up? Percival pretty much said that he wanted to know if his dad would be good to him like we are with him and our children. You may be his father now, but he deserves to know so he doesn’t turn out like his biological father. Would you rather have him be ignorant and eventually turn out like him anyway?”

Ernest looked startled at the mere thought of that.

“You know that we helped raise him better then that. I trust his aunt to do better and be just as good as a mother that Roselyn might have been.”

Truthfully, he didn’t know what Roselyn would be like as a mother. For all he knew she would have dropped any child she would have off with a nanny. Despite fighting with Clara, he knew that she wouldn’t hold a candle to her. Clara was the perfect mother and more.

“I still think he deserves to know,” said Clara her green eyes hard. “As much as I hate the idea of telling him the truth, we can’t shield all the evils of the world away from him. In about two years he’ll be starting boarding school. I’ve seen how they boys were treated at the day school, they’re not all going to be kind to him.”

That was where he had his own two cents. “The masters are willing to whip anyone into shape. Yes, he’d be seeing and witnessing it for the first time. However, I’d rather him learn from his own mistakes rather than have the sins of his father on his mind.”

Now it appeared that they were at a standstill. Clara hoped that he had a point and could see his point of view. Just as he could see hers and understand it at the same time. His breathing hard watching her. Clara had stepped back and huffed before getting closer to him.

“We both agree that Percival should never see his dad, right?” she asked softly brushing a stray hair from his face.

Surprised at the gentle touch he nodded knowing that much. “Clara, please. I have my reasons, I want to protect him just like I want to protect our own children. What kind of father would I be if I can’t do that?”

He had pulled her close to him leaving a small smile on Clara’s lips. “You’re a good father for wanting to protect them. I just want… I think… I don’t want Percival to be like his dad. I don’t know if telling him would make it any better but not telling him might doom him to repeat his mistakes. I know I’ve said that already and I can’t imagine him being like that…”

Pulling her close they leaned against a large tree trunk. He kissed her lips softly holding her chin to look at him.

“I don’t think that there is a right answer for this,” he whispered. “We just have to make sure that he turns into a good and honorable man. I want him to be a great Duke with a long line of descendants to pass on.”

“As do I.”

She pressed her lips to his and stayed like that for a a moment taking in her touch and lips. An epiphany ran across his mind in a moment. She was right, of course she was right, Clara had a point during their rather difficult conversation.

He pulled apart and rested his forehead against hers.

“You know I think you’re right. When I was at school, I saw the fights and everyone at any school around here is going to know who his dad is and what happened to him. He can’t go into there ignorant. It’s up to his uncle to decide where he goes but if it’s in England…”

She took his hand and interlaced her fingers with his. “If anything, this will bring us together and stronger. You’re right too though, where he is now isn’t a good time. He’s not even ten and school doesn’t even start for a year or two. I think he could be innocent for a little while longer. It’s not like people knows who he is by looking at him.”

Clara threw her arms around her husband laughing softly to herself.

“I can’t believe we’re arguing about this today, it’s beautiful today. Let’s go and celebrate Georgiana’s christening,” said Ernest ready to put this conversation aside for now. They would tell him that they would wait for another year or so.

Still holding his hand she pulled him to follow her, beckoning back to Ledford. “Ahh yes, for you see you have a daughter that I can only imagine you doting on so much.”

“Maybe not more then my wife, Mrs. Sinclaire.”

Blushing they started to head back to Ledford arm and arm together. “Well you know how much I love to dote on you. I believe Mrs. Bell had made your favorite dessert for the party.”

Laughing himself he pulled her back into his arms and kissed her a bit harder then usual. His arms around her waist not daring to let go. Their kisses becoming deeper with the spring air dancing around them.

“I love you so much my Clara.”

“And I you my darling husband.”

With that they headed off back to Ledford. After promising Percival that they would tell him later, he understood. Then their guests started to come with Annabelle on the piano. Clara insisting on holding Georgiana the entire time except to a certain few people.

Clara held their daughter close as he could only watch them together. Georgiana already had his blue eyes and her dark hair despite being only a few weeks old. Unable to stop smiling he could picture their family just growing more and more, all their daughters just as beautiful as their mother. The future and what could happen would just have to wait. They had this moment together right now.

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