"Now, before I whip your ass, I want you to tell me what in the great God's good name caused you to bust a kid when you were supposed to be doing your lessons, boy," Lincoln demanded his second-oldest son. The boy who was being interrogated sat on the Family bed. Lincoln towered over him; behind him stood his wife Amalga, "I ain't did nothing wrong," Lemy growled out. Lincoln quirked an eyebrow and made a gesture to his belt. "I ain't did nothing wrong, sir," Lemy added.
"You took a tooth from a boy's mouth," Lincoln stated calmly."Damn lucky Father Liam is willing to have your ass back when you apologize."
Lemy crunched up his fists. "I ain't sorry."
Lincoln's hand moved for his belt to unwrap it.
Bobby rushed to his older brother's defense. He came between the two and held up his arms.
"Pa, Lemy was just defending hisself and me." the small brown-skinned boy explained frantically.
"The boy Lemy busted was picking on him for having a little trouble with his letters_."
"A lot of trouble." Lyle clarified while steering the soup in the family cooking pot. Lemy shot his younger blond brother a glare.
"Didn't ask for your input Lyle." Lincoln growled, signaling he was in no mood Lyle's usual sass.
The slender boy held up his and offered a smile. "Just making sure all details are there and proper."
"The letters are the trouble," Lemy muttered bitterly. "They be tricking me."
Despite being 12-years old, Lemy struggled with his letter harder than kids younger than him. He sat in front of the class, and tended to read out the words like he did when he was little. Father Liam said he thought Lemy had something wrong with his head. Instead of it being due to pure laziness. Lincoln could believe it, given he had the same problems. Lemy wasn't stupid. Father Liam said Lemy's catch on anything musical wise. Whether that be playing an instrument or singing. The white-haired man still made damn sure Lemy went to school. Lincoln wanted his boys to grow up to be more than Lincoln was. The man was a Police Constable. It was a noble job, and he made more than he'd make working at the Dragon-fire factories wherein the white-haired man would likely lose some body parts like Lincoln's Pa, but Lincoln would be lying if he didn't sometimes want for more. He sometimes dreamt he was some rich, fancy artist the type that'd make those little cartoons in the newspaper featuring Ace Savvy. He always liked drawing. Hopefully, Lemy could grow up to be one of those rich musicians that get to perform for nobles, merchants, and managers. It could happen-if the boy stayed in school.
Bobby pressed on his explanation. "Lemy was having trouble, and the boy was making fun of him, but Lemy tried to pay him no mind. But I still ain't liking what I was seeing so I told the boy to please stop. In response, He called me a halfie, which got Lemy mad_."
"A what?" Amalga screeched outraged. The woman shouldered past Lincoln with no care keeping a unified front. The blond woman knelt gave the boy a mighty hug and pressed his head towards her chest. "Bobby, you ain't half of anything. You're full goodness is what you are."
Bobby was often picked on for his mixed-race status. The Ionic empire may have incorporated territories around the world, and there was no law against it. Still, generally, people expected you to stick to your being the keyword expected given mixed-race kids like Bobby were rare, but not that rare.
Bobby typically tried to smile at his tormentors as if it all some joke, if not break down crying when physically attacked. Lincoln loved Bobby no less than Lemy, or Lyle, but sometimes he'd wish his youngest would be more like his brothers. The boy was as kind as one could be but was soft. Amalga called him 'sensitive,' but that just seemed fancy, girly word for soft. He needed to be strong. He was 9-years old. In five years, he'd be a man.
His older brothers, on the other hand, typically answered any insult in a more manly way.
Much to the ever loud encouragement of Amalga, and often more quiet approval of Lincoln. Still, this was at school, where one must show more restraint.
Amalga was not Bobby's mama. That honor went to an old friend Lincoln slept with on a drunken stupor when his dear wife was a couple months pregnant. The woman left little Bobby as a baby at his doorstep with a note saying the boy was his. Lincoln said he'd take the boy over to the orphanage, but Amalga asked Lincoln if he did fuck the woman in question. Lincoln, never being one to lie, especially to his wife, confessed to his sin. Instead of getting furious, she merely told him he would never do such a thing again, least she takes the boys and runoff. That he could try beating her-as was his legal right as her husband, to dissuade her, but the second he'd drop his guard, the blonde woman would leave. She also told him she thought the boy looked just like Lincoln, so the boy was probably his, so Lincoln had a duty to the boy. Amalga also took the position of the boy's mother. The woman was strange. Where most women would be right furious if their husband brought their bastard in their household, Amalga demanded it and took great offense at any talk of her not being the boy's mama. Lincoln suspected her want for the boy may have something to with the child she lost just a couple months earlier. Amalga had been pregnant 13 times. Seven died in a miscarriage, the other three had died shortly after their birth due to sickness. All of them had been girls. His family seemed to have trouble with producing girls. Lincon had ten sisters. seven died in womb, while three died to sickness.
"I'd have half a mind to find this brat, and relieve him of half his damn teeth." The woman growled.
Lemy and Lyle snickered at their mama's Declarations of violence. Bobby tried cooling the woman down. "I ain't been hurt, Ma. It's alright. Please don't be worrying. I love you." He said while patting Amalga on the back and giving her a kiss on the cheek. The woman just peppered the boy reassurances that he was great.
Lincoln rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Not, saying what that boy said was right-fact is it was mighty cruel and wrong. I'm not going to beat you for losing you're cool over it. But you're still going to have to say sorry_."
"Bobby's my brother, and I outta defend my brother. I ain't supposed to be sorry about what I'm outta do." Lemy said firmly.
"Lemy's a dummy, but he ain't wrong, Pa. I was just about to bust the boy myself," Lyle added while still preparing dinner.
"Lemy should have taken more of the brat's teeth," Amalga said, still clutching Bobby, not helping matters.
"If the world was simply made of shoulds, and outta's than it would've been a mighty finer place than it is. But, the world is what it is. You're going to have to apologize. Your future ain't worth a boy's tooth-especially one from such a wicked mouth. I promise I'll talk to father Liam and see he's disciplined too."
"But I ain't sorry sir," Lemy repeated while crossing his arms.
Amalga held up a finger. "Maybe's there's a compromise. Father Liam just said you had to say sorry-he didn't say for what exactly. Lemy could say he's sorry, but really mean he's sorry for not hitting the boy much harder."
"Ain't that still lying?" Lemy asked, confused.
"Technically not, probably." the woman said with a big smile.
"Definitely so." Lyle piped in.
"I could do that," Lemy said hesitantly.
Lincoln sighed. "Alright, I'll take it." Even if Lincoln beat Lemy, the boy doubtfully would mean he'd indeed be sorry.
"Dinner's ready," Lyle announced. Amalga went to the cupboard and got out the wooden bowls. While the males went to their small table. He sat down at the head while the boys took their seats. Amalga came to the table and began pouring the portions into each of their bowls with the pork and potato soup Lyle cooked up. Before eating, the family bowed their heads and closed their eyes as their hands clasped together.
"Dear Great God, thank you for providing your children with this bountiful meal provided by your earth. May it fill us and strengthen us so we may better serve you in your war with the dark gods. Amen."
"Amen." Lincoln's family repeated after him before devouring the meal.
"After supper, the family retired to their family bed. Lincoln took the side of the far left. His wife took the other hand. Bobby being the youngest, got between his parents. Amalga clasped Bobby in a hug, and the small boy snuggled against her. The other boys slept to the corner with Lemy lying down at the foot of the bed while Lyle laid on top. The bed was small and cramped, blanket the Louds used for warmth was old and need of stitching. But as Lincoln Loud drifted off to sleep surrounded by his boys and wife who although were people who drove him right mad, we're the most precious things in his life. He thought he wouldn't change his life for the world.
Lincoln took his customary patrols around his territory in the great city Tarta the crown jewel of Ionic Empire, a power so high it spanned over seven continents and which holy men preached the great God's earthly steward. Lincoln took care to avoid the puddles of piss and shit that lined the cobblestone street alongside beggars, many of them with missing limbs. The days' sky was its' typical color; black as the dragon fire stones that gave the city its' life and so much of its' death. Lincoln's grandfather often complained about how, in his day, one could go out and see its' utter blueness. The man could rant for hours on end on this part of Tarta life.
Lincoln wore his dark red coat, brown cap. His club made of oxen-bear bone was strapped to his side and a whistle around his waist.
The white-haired man didn't have as big a problem with those effects of pollution. The sky is clouded by toxic smoke looked normal to him in the same way Lincoln's white hair looked normal to him. He still hoped to see a clear sky in his life someday. He thought it'd look nice.
Lincoln sometimes liked to imagine himself as Ace-Savvy, the expertly, crime-solving, detective, gliding through the territory, stopping plots against the crown and country by dastardly villains. He knew that of course he wasn't Savvy, and unlikely to encounter such a big event. Duties for a constables taking care to look after the typical pickpockets, robbers, and vandals, breakers, dusters, rapists, and murders that operated in his district-which, unfortunately, was a lot. The white-haired man would like to say he alone has great success in keeping the streets clean. He'd like to. But it seemed everything was getting worse especially as Fairy-dust has began infesting the world since its' discovery in Tatum four years ago. Violence wasn't the only thing thats gone up-corruption became much more blatant. Criminals found it easier to buy off coppers with the money from the dust. His department had never been perfect moral stewards, but Lincoln thought he remembered a time that most of his peers we're better men. Or maybe as the white-haired man got older, he found it easier to see what type of men they were
His shift was almost over when he heard a scream from a door of one of the shops he was passing. A cry of pain and horror. He rushed into baton in hand and discovered a sight he'd unfortunately not dissimilar to types he's seen before. A young girl was splayed out on the wooden floor, the skirt's hiked up. A bald, muscular man lay on top of her with a knife placed over the throat. He looked to Lincoln with the mild irritation one might show a fly that started buzzing near their face. Lincoln thought he looked familiar but couldn't place it. A slim boy who couldn't be out his teens stood in a dark brown tunic, and blue pants smiled at Lincoln. He held a bottle of Fairy wine and had glass placed on the counter. He'd look very much like a noble gentleman if not for the old man splayed across his feet with a bloody head.
"Hello, Constable. Is there something we could help you with?" the boy said, pouring himself a drink.
Lincoln gripped his baton more tightly. "Get off that girl right now."
The boy took a sip of the wine, grimaced and spat. "Prophets, you call this swell wine?" he asked the battered old man. "I'd feel absolutely monstrous if I served this to a stray dog, dying of thirst. Constable, you should arrest these two for the high-crime of fraud."
"Boy, I ain't joking here," Lincoln growled out. He stepped forward, ready to strike.
The boy shook his head. "Nor am I! Wine is something I find to be one of the epicenters of human ingenious."
The boy then sighed. "Though I suppose I should lower my standards when dealing with the dirt."
He then resumed smiling. "Constable, my name is Christopher Huggins. I'm sure you know of my father, Wilbur Huggins." the boy then pointed to the bald man. "My associate is Chester Monk. He prefers to go by Chunk."
Lincoln's blood froze. Wilbur Huggins was the crime-baron of Eastern Tarta. Whores, pickpocketing, pay for murder, and most importantly, Fairy dust, were all under his domain. Police were not meant to touch him. If Huggins' literally beat a child's head in broad daylight, there'd finer chance that the corpse would've got arrested. Chunk was one of his notorious enforcers. Lincoln's sense of familiarity seeing the man-made reason; he'd seen the man in the paper.
"My father and I thought it prudent for me to get some hands-on knowledge about the family business. Which is why you find me here. I was sent to collect tribute, like any other low-ranked thug from places under my father's protection like this shop with Chunk. The owner-the man whose bleeding profusely on the floor-even knowing today was payday did not properly prepare his payment. He offered the standard excuses, of course, waxing how he'd been recently robbed, and just needed a couple more days, blah, blah." Huggins rolled his eyes."He knew the rules, and he broke them, and had the nerve ask me to forsake my duty due to his incompetence."
"So you see I had no choice, but to order Chunk, to bust the fucker's head open, and give a good ole rape to his daughter-the girl lying under Chunk. Of course, this would only be the cusp of their punishment. Being a man of the law, I know you know how vital it is to enact justice to wrongdoers."
"Rape isn't justice," Lincoln whispered weakly.
Huggins chuckled. "Then why does it happen so much in your prisons? In any case, I am within my bounds here. Your presence isn't required. You can go."
Every instinct Lincoln had told him to leave if he wanted to live. The white-haired man looked to the young girl. Her eyes looked at him as if he was the Golden Prince come again.
"I can't do that, Sir." his pride only felt only slightly hurt at calling the loathsome boy 'sir.'
Huggin's smile didn't drop an inch. "Oh, fine." the boy took out a coin and tossed it to Lincoln. It was copper-Griffen. Something that would see his family fed a week quickly. Lincoln knew a lot of officers would have done a lot worse for a lot less, for far worse reasons for it. "You know you're really fortunate. I'm trying to get a truly authentic experience as a lowly thug. Paying off red boys is obviously apart of that experience."
Lincoln tossed the coin back to Huggins. "Ain't about a coin, Sir. It's my job to be protecting folk."
Huggins' smile did drop this time. He walked towards the white-haired man. Lincoln was tall, man, yet he felt the boy towered over him despite him barely reaching his shoulders. Huggins started him in the eye. Lincoln felt the urge to look away but kept his resolve. "You do understand who my father is, correct? That there is a certain risk that will come with trying to stop me? That no one who has any ounce of empathy, or rationality, would honestly blame you for leaving right this second."
Lincoln gulped. "Probably not. But it's my duty."
Huggins said nothing for a moment and then laughed. "Oh, blessed prophets, you're serious." he then licked his lips as if stumbled upon a tasty meal. "What may I ask is your name?"
"Lincoln Loud."
The boy turned to Chunk. "You heard Officer Loud Get off that fair maiden."
The bald man got up with no complaint.
Huggins turned back to Lincoln. "We will surrender to you!"
"Ain't finished making our rounds." Chunk grumbled.
Huggins waved his hands. "We'll do it later. Right now, this fine upstanding constable has decided to stop us." He began walking out of the shop. He stopped at the door and turned to Lincoln, who was just standing there. "Well, come on, Officer Loud, it's time you take me and Chunk off to the station."
Lincoln looked back to the man splayed on the ground. "That man needs a doctor."
"Oh, you don't have to worry about that." Huggin's said. He took out a gun and fired at the splayed at the man.
The girl cried out and crawled to her father's corpse.
"Now, come on ."
Lincoln trailed after the boy. Lincoln felt like he was a mouse following a lion.
"I am guilty of extortion, murder, and orchestrating a woman's defilement. And that's was just in the past hour!" Huggins shouted giddily once he was brought to the stone station. The other law-men were perplexed by the boy's unusual nature as Lincoln was. Huggins and Chunk were put in a cell, and as the arresting officer, Lincoln had to file the report-which was typically the most stressful part of the job.
"Officer Loud, I harbor absolutely no ill-will towards you," Huggins screamed as Lincoln was about to leave the station.
Lincoln returned home and didn't tell his family what he had been through. A man shouldn't needlessly worry his family. Huggins was right queer, but Lincoln reasoned if the truly wanted to kill him, he'd done it at the shop.
Lincoln saw how badly he miscalculated when the door to his apartment was busted open, and six men burst through his apartment. His children and wife screamed in absolute terror.
Lemy had gotten out of bed and immediately charged at the intruders like a bull. He got smacked to the ground and had a placed on his back.
Lyle scrambled over to the table to grab something on the table and held it in shaking hands like a sword. It was the soup ladle
Amalga just gripped Bobby.
Lincoln got to his feet, ready to defend his family-until he saw the gun being pointed at him.
"Take, whatever you want, and go," he said though he suspected this was more than a robbery.
Huggins came in soon after confirming Lincoln's fears and stood at the foot of the bed. He was smiling.
"Hello, it is wonderful to see you again. I've come to finish our earlier business."
"Sir, do what you want to me, but leave my family be. They ain't done nothing," he said, shaking.
The boy threw up his hands. "And the man's first move is to play the noble once more. Beautiful."
Huggins noticed Bobby, who was shaking in Amalga's arms. "Is that the halfie?" he made a gesture to one of the men who immediately went to get the boy.
Lemy began struggling much more laborious to no greater success. Lyle foolishly took a step forward. The gun fired missing Lyle by a hair, making the boy stop in his tracks as well as drop the ladle Lemy kept on struggling.
"Don' hurt my baby." Amalga pleaded.
"Oh, madam, I have no plans to hurt children." he declared as if she'd insulted him.
"The resemblance between you is uncanny." Huggins said while he poked and prodded the boy's face."I can tell he's definitely Mr. Loud's son, but from I fail to see the resemblance to you."
"I'm his mama. Blood, don't change that," she said while tears poured down her eyes.
Huggins chuckled. "I wish my mother showed a level of devotion. It's so beautiful." he pointed to the man holding Lemy under his boot." Could you please take these boys outside the business we need to conduct is a little mature for their palette."
Lemy snarled from the ground. "I'll ki_."
"Boy, be quiet," Lincoln commanded. "Boys, follow the man and don't be coming back to till these fellows leave. Be good. Protect each other"
"But Pa_."
"Butts are for shiting and sitting Lemy, for the love of the great god's shut up and listen to your Pa," Amalga said. She wasn't out of the dragon's mouth, but the woman didn't care. Making sure the boys were ok was her concern. Lincoln never loved the woman more than that moment.
Lemy ceased his struggling. The man holding them down let up, and Lemy slowly got up. Lyle and Bobby tepidly walked towards their older brother, and the man ushered them out of the apartment. Good. They were safe. Lincoln really wished he believed that.
"What do you want from me, sir," Lincoln asked.
Higgins didn't respond. He just went to the table and got out a chair.
"Please sit over here, Mr. Loud." Lincoln got up and sat in the chair without question.
Huggin's smiled. "You arrested me earlier_."
"You told me to!"Lincoln said incredulously.
The boy merely waved his hands. "Only after you refused to play the typical, corrupt, spineless copper. You decided to do your duty and stop me. Laudable. It's a same your fellow officers don't share your sense of justice, given they released little over an hour after you brought me into custody. I was not surprised to see you weren't particularly liked by your peers. Apparently, you're they see your attitude to be pretentious. Your comments against corruption, your insistence of never taking bribes, as well as attempts to dissuade others have made you sort of a pariah. The fact that you've uppity wife, who've seemed dead against disciplining and a half breed bastard also hasn't made you popular. Your chief was all too happy to sign off on your kill order after he personally came to let me out and apologize for my imprisonment."
Lincoln gaped. He was going to die. "My wife and kids didn't do anything wrong_."
"Neither did you, Mr. Loud. I'm not doing this because I'm angry with you. I'm just playing my role as the vengeful brutal gangster. " He then got out a revolver and shot Lincoln in the knees.
Amalga screamed. Almost as high as Lincoln did. Lincoln splayed on the floor. Four of the men descended on the bed where Amalga laid.
Huggins sat on the chair Lincoln fell out of to watch the carnage.
Lincoln tried crawling to his wife in an attempt to save her.
Huggins put his legs up on Lincoln back as if he was a foot rest.
Please stop this. Lincoln didn't know who he was begging to. The great God, the prophets, the kind, or the dark gods, it didn't matter who or what stopped this, he just knew he'd give anything for them to do so.
"I must admit my sparring of your children was out of character. If I was completely authentic, I'd have them in here with you being thoroughly raped and tortured to death before your eyes like your wife is going to be. But I feel it'd more entertaining to leave them mostly intact. If they're like you, perhaps they'll grow up to be of strong character like you and seek me, the horrid villain from their childhood, to enact justice. It'd be so...romantic."
A/N
Do You know what my biggest gripe with Fantasyverse loud house/sin kids fics are? If you do, how long have been stalking me? For those who don't know my biggest gripe is one simple thing-the louds are usually the royal family. It in my eyes removes their relatability. Imagine if the Loud house cartoon suddenly had the main cast as billionaires, complaining about their yachts, and caviar, and other rich things I will never be able to afford because I'm a grown man who still writes fanfic about kid cartoons.
Not to say these five are bad-a lot times I quite enjoy them. But I still find them lacking something.
Anyway, I thought I'd throw some of the loud house-sin house characters where they are at bottom rungs of society.
I imagine I'll have to put in 400,000 words to complete this. I imagine I'll get fewer than a couple dozen favs, follows, and reviews. God that will look awful. But nonetheless I feel I have to try telling this story.