#Law: Why do you keep antagonizing him like that are you stupid?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

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By Your Doorstep (Part 8)

Summary: The reader and Sam try to find a way to ensure John leaves them alone while Dean has a sweet moment with Tessa...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 3,700ish

Warnings: language, bad parenting, past child abuse, manipulation, angst, fluff

A/N: Parts of this series are told from two different POV’s. Dean’s POV are written from limited third person. Reader’s POV are second person (like a typical reader insert). Enjoy!…

_________

Reader’s POV

“Hey, Mr. Valens,” you said when he came into the reception area about twenty minutes after you’d left the house with Sam.

“Y/N! Everything alright? You’re not in trouble are you?” he asked, giving Sam a look. “You look familiar.”

“I work on opposing counsel for the Druman case,” he said.

“You’re that son of a bitch that got a delay. That was good work,” he said. “A friend of Y/N’s is always welcome although I have to ask what exactly is going on that you’re here after seven?”

“Mr. Valens this is Sam Winchester. His brother Dean is my boyfriend. They knew my dad years back. He might have kept a file on them and I was wondering if you might have it since I know you took over my dad’s stuff?”

“Well I can’t allow you to go looking through the file cabinets and certainly not a lawyer from a rival firm,” he said. You frowned and he smiled. “Sam, you wouldn’t mind waiting out here. I’m sure you understand considering our prep is going on right now.”

“Of course. I’ll hang here,” he said. You walked through a set of doors into some offices, walking down the familiar hall.

“You guys renovated,” you said.

“A few months back. We wanted a little more modern touch. Your dad’s idea actually. Finally got it going,” he said.

“He always had a thousand things going at once it seems,” you said. You walked into his office, Mr. Valens going to a file cabinet in the corner. He dug around in the bottom drawer and pulled out a folder.

“Winchester boys. I’m guessing this is them,” he said. He took a seat at his desk and opened it up, lifting his head after a minute. “Y/N. Why do you want this file?”

“Mr. Valens. Let me have it,” you said. “Please.”

“There’s a reason your father never escalated this to law enforcement,” he said, shutting the file. “What are you involved in?”

“Mr. Valens. You were my dad’s partner and best friend and Tessa and I haven’t heard from you since two weeks after the funeral. You helped me get access to our trust but you left. We needed help. I needed help. You’re a lawyer. You could have made life so much easier. But you wouldn’t pick up the phone. The least you can do is give me that file.”

“You weren’t a child when they died, Y/N.”

“It doesn’t mean I wasn’t devastated. It doesn’t mean I was ready to change my whole life to become a mom to my sister, my very hurt baby sister. I just needed a little bit of help with paperwork and you couldn’t even do that for your best friend’s kids. I want that file, Mr. Valens.”

“You should stay away from those boys,” he said, handing it over to you.

“Why?”

“Their father is an ex-cop. Why do you think your father never escalated it? He needed hard evidence to make that kind of accusation,” he said.

“Can you help them?”

“Y/N, why are you digging around in the past.”

“He came to our house and hurt Dean tonight.” He shut his eyes and ran his hand over his face. “I’m tired of people I care about getting hurt. Is there anything we can do to get them to leave us alone?”

“I’m sorry but unless he does something and you report it, I can’t do anything without hard evidence.”

“I have a recording of him beating up Dean.”

“He could very easily walk on that charge. My suggestion would be to get you and Tessa out of that house and away from those two for good.”

“You’re a dick,” you said as you rolled your eyes. You started to leave and went past a conference room, wide eyed when you saw John Winchester walking out with another lawyer. “What are you doing here?”

“None of your business,” he said. Mr. Valens cleared his throat and pulled you back into his office, shutting the door behind him.

“He’s right next door and you don’t care to mention that?”

“He’s a client for another lawyer.”

“No, I was stupid to come here was all. You don’t care about anyone or anything except money. You’ll work with a guy like that and let him keep hurting his kids as long as you get paid. I’m glad my father didn’t have to see you for who you really are.”

“Do not put words in my mouth,” he said, staring you down. “I said he is a client. Plenty of people need lawyers, including bad ones. I did not say I knew about his past with his sons. I do not condone that and that is exactly the kind of person I enjoy putting in prison. As a lawyer, I’m telling you that you either need very, very hard evidence of something he can’t get out of or you need to not antagonize him and hope he stays away. As someone who has watched you grow up, get you and your sister away from those Winchester boys. You do not know what he will do and that is dangerous.”

“Dean’s in danger. Sam’s in danger. Tessa and I aren’t leaving them.”

“You need to think of your sister, not your boyfriend.”

“She loves them like they’re her big brothers. She is happy, the happiest I’ve seen her since the accident. We’re not walking away from our family. We’ll figure this out ourselves.”

You went to leave when he caught your arm.

“I’ll do some digging. He’s no longer a cop but if he did something dirty, it might be enough.”

“Thank you.”

“Be careful, Y/N.”

You left and walked down the hall, John waiting by the doors out to the lobby.

“You Sammy’s girlfriend?” he asked.

“Dean’s,” you said.

“Your boyfriend going to keep up our arrangement?”

“Why don’t you just leave them alone,” you said.

“I do.”

“Tell that to Dean’s face.”

“He understands that the arrangement-”

“You got nothing on him and we all know it. We will let the past stay in the past as long as you never come near them again. I’m friends with the senior partner here so if you want to try something, I have a very good lawyer waiting in the wings.”

“To tell you the truth,” he said, leaning down to your ear. “It was never about the money. Sure it was nice but I mean he’s so pathetic he never even realized there was no proof. That’s what I get for letting him spend all that time at his uncle’s place. You do realize you’re dating a dumbass don’t you?”

“If it’s not about the money then why did you go to our house?”

“You saw the look on his face,” he smirked. “Fancy ass doctor is nothing more than a little bitch that-”

“Fuck you,” you said, slapping him in the face. You went to leave when you felt a shove from behind. You turned and glared, catching Mr. Valens coming down the hall.

“What the fuck is going on here?” said Mr. Valens.

“She tripped,” said John.

“Oh well now you’re officially on the top of my shit list,” he said, walking over and getting in John’s face.

“Exciting,” said John. “I bet that’ll work out well.”

“Y/N, leave,” he said. You ducked out the door, Sam sprawled out on the couch.

“How’d it-”

“Let’s go. Now,” you said, both of you turning when you heard the doors open.

“Sammy,” said John, Sam swallowing as he stood up. John glanced over at you and smirked. “You know Dean’s been paying me for years to-”

“Go fuck yourself. With a cactus,” said Sam. John smiled and cocked his head.

“You Sam, you always had that fight in you Dean didn’t. I didn’t have to toughen you up. It was just there already. I’m just sorry to have to be the one to tell you that Dean...he doesn’t really love you. He only took you because he couldn’t stand the thought of being alone. I mean he abandoned you. You remember when you called us to help you out cause Dean was too busy partying at school? You remember who took care of you?”

“Sam. He’s just trying to fuck with you.”

“Dean’s human. He’s allowed to have fun and I called you as a last resort. I would not do it again,” said Sam.

“Funny. I don’t recall ever once laying a hand on you. I mean did you ever see me ever put a hand on Dean?”

“You were such a dick. Just because I didn’t see it doesn’t-”

“You know he got bullied right? Blamed me for that. Blamed us for all of his little problems. Then he took you. I can’t forgive him for that. But you had no choice and who knows what lies he’s been filling your head with for years.”

“Sam.”

“And this one. Dean her knight in shining armor? She’s just using him and you know it. For all you know she did that to him. Go back to your old city Sammy. Get out from under his thumb. It’s what’d I’d do.”

He left the building and you put your hands on your hips, Sam giving you a glance.

“Do not look at me like that,” you said. “I watched him beat up your brother tonight.”

“You did almost hit that yoga woman.”

“Because she hurt Dean,” you said quietly. “Your dad literally just shoved me in there. He knows he’s got nothing left except getting you to hurt Dean too. He’s so controlling Sam. That’s all he wants to do is control the two of you and making you fight means he wins.”

“Dean gives you everything,” said Sam.

“I love him.” He seemed to stop whatever he was about to say and you looked down. “And I love you too and I didn’t want to love anyone ever again so that’s a really big deal for me. He makes me happy Sam. I’d never hurt him. He’s my best friend. He’s your best friend too and he has gone to hell and back for you since he was a child. Please don’t listen to John. Believe your brother.”

“Dean used to say to me that he got wailed on but I got the manipulation worse. I think he had that pretty spot on,” said Sam, closing his eyes. “You love Dean?”

“I haven’t exactly told him yet,” you said with a shrug.

“Pretty sure the dork knows,” said Sam. “Just like you do.”

“I hope so. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Let’s head home.”

“Do you believe him?” you asked.

“You know every morning, every morning, you make Dean a cup of coffee and you either put it in his thermos or a cup for him. Every morning you do that.”

“So?”

“You wash out his thermos every night because you know it’s his favorite. On the weekend you put it in his blue mug and have it ready for him along with a cheese danish that you picked up the morning before on the way to work. That’s just one thing. You care about him and he lets you take care of him and Dean doesn’t do that. I’ll always pick my real family over my parents any day. I’m never gonna turn my back on my brother.”

“Thank you,” you said.

“Did you make any headway, on anything?”

“The partner is gonna look into him but hopefully he just stays away from now on knowing he’s got nothing left to hold over you guys.”

“I hope so too.”

Dean’s POV

“Tessa, I’m fine,” said Dean, wincing as she put a fresh cold ice pack on his ribs.

“I guess it’s true. Doctors are the worst patients,” she said. She hopped up when the doorbell rang and Dean sat up. “It’s just the delivery guy.”

“Tessa I can-” said Dean before he ran off. Dean sighed, Tessa coming back a few minutes later with some styrofoam containers. “You need to be more careful.”

“You think your dad is gonna punch me? A high school girl?” she said.

“I don’t like testing that theory.” Dean scooted back against the headboard, Tessa handing him some utensils and one of the containers. She sat on the other side with hers, watching the TV and eating up some pieces of chicken. “Tessa.”

“Hm?” she hummed.

“If you want to go over to Jack’s that’s okay,” he said. “I didn’t mean to ruin your date.”

“I think my sister put me in charge of you. Jack’s cool with it. We’ll hang out tomorrow,” she said, eating more of her food.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m not the one that got punched in the face.”

“Still. Things can be triggering,” he said.

“I don’t get why you didn’t hit back I guess. I would have.”

“I’ve spent most of my life afraid of my dad. I still am a bit unfortunately.”

“Well you’re obviously not like him. At all,” she said. Dean smiled and started to eat, Toast licking his toes every so often. “He knows you’re hurt. He does that when he wants you to feel better.”

“Animals are very intuitive like that,” said Dean. It was quiet for a few minutes as they ate, Tessa shifting in her spot eventually.

“Dean.”

“Yeah?” he asked, mouthful of macaroni.

“Do you love my sister?” she asked. Dean swallowed and set his food down in his lap, smiling at it.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Why not tell her then?”

“I think she knows just like I think I know that she loves me. I think we’ve both been through so much already that it’s not always in the words how to say you love someone. Actions, those are as important, more important in a way. Your sister is kind and good to me in a way I never thought I’d have. I love her very, very much. I love you too.”

“She smiles again,” said Tessa. “She’s a better person around you.”

“She was always a good person. She just needed some else to lean on for a moment. That’s what a relationship is. It’s why she’s pissed as hell right now and standing up to someone I couldn’t.”

“I know you took Sam away from your parents. That was badass too,” she said.

“Maybe.”

“Are you gonna marry her?” she asked.

“Also a maybe.”

“Do you want to?”

“Would you be okay with that?”

“Yeah. Are you asking like my permission or something?”

“Well, I’d still ask no matter what you say but I’d like to think you’d be alright with it.”

“I’m confused.”

“I’m not asking right now...but maybe hypothetically I will ask in the future.”

“Oh,” she said with a nod. “I got you. When you’re done being shy be sure to let me know.”

“You’re a little shit, you know that?” asked Dean with a laugh.

“It’s one of my best qualities,” she said.

“Sure it is,” he said as he reached over and ruffled her hair.

“Dean?” she asked when he picked up his food again. “I know she’d say yes, whenever you do decide to do it.”

“I said maybe I recall.”

“Maybe it’s not always in the words but the actions,” she said, smirking at him.

“Got me there,” he said. “Let’s not tell Y/N about this though. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Reader’s POV

Three Days Later

“Hey, Dean,” you said as he stirred awake beside you. He smiled and snuggled into your side, covers tucked up under his chin. “Sleep good?”

“Yeah. Better,” he said. You carded your fingers through his hair and he slowly opened his eyes, sleepily watching you. “I don’t think he’ll try anything. It’s been a few days and it’s been quiet.”

“Me either. Like Sam said, he’s an asshole but he’s not nuts,” you said.

“No, he’s not. But I do wonder sometimes...about my mom.”

“You don’t talk about her much,” you said. You started twirling short strands and he started to wake up more but didn’t move around.

“I just...I don’t know if he broke her down after years and that’s why she is the way she is or if she genuinely doesn’t like us,” said Dean. “I don’t know whether to feel sorry for her or not.”

“Well...I think there’s a difference between her failing to protect you and her actively hurting you. Only you and Sam would know what really happened there.”

“Going off of that logic she’s not a good person,” said Dean. “Our grandpa wasn’t so it makes sense in a way. I don’t understand why they hated Sam and me so much though.”

“I don’t understand how anyone could ever not want you either.” He smiled and you bent down, kissing his cheek and then his lips, Dean humming when you moved back.

“Well, I got more than enough people that want me in my life now,” he said. He reached up and kissed you as you sunk back down in bed. He put his hand on the back of your neck and you grabbed his hip, Dean smirking beside you. He was starting to breath a little harder, pants filling the air, when you heard the door creak open.

“Guess who made...seriously,” said Tessa. You both turned and saw her with a tray and some food on top.

“Your sister’s hot, Tessa,” chuckled Dean. You smacked his chest lightly as you both sat up, Tessa setting the tray down on the end of the bed.

“Might want to knock from now on before you get a view of something mentally scaring,” you said.

“I’ll remember that,” she said. She turned to go when Dean tsked her. “Guys. Have morning sex or whatever you were doing.”

“A little kissing never hurt anyone,” you said, picking up a cinnamon roll from the plate. “This looks yummy.”

“What’s the occasion, Tess?” asked Dean, grabbing one himself without a wince, his ribs looking a lot better.

“I figured I could make breakfast,” she shrugged.

“As a doctor, this isn’t the healthiest thing I’d consider for breakfast. As myself, excellent choice,” said Dean. She started to go and he chuckled. “Tessa. Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, Toast trotting in and hopping up on the bed. “No Toast. Your food’s downstairs.”

“While I got you girls both here, I was wondering what you guys would like to do for Christmas?” he asked. “It’s only a little over a week away.”

“Oh,” she said before she looked at you. Dean raised an eyebrow and you shrugged.

“Well don’t everyone be too over excited,” he said with a chuckle. “Come on, anything in the world, what do you guys want to do?”

“Y/N not have to work,” mumbled Tessa.

“I know for a fact she won’t. I also know for a fact that our offices will be closed aside from the doctor that always works that week anyways. All of our lab work goes out that week so a certain someone is going to have her first week off in a few years,” said Dean.

“Wait I get the whole week off?” you asked.

“Yup. We all do and it doesn’t count against vacation. It’s something that’s always been done as a treat to the employees. So. Everybody’s got the week off, even Sammy. I say us and Toast all go do something really fun.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“Well...would you guys be interested in going up north a bit to South Dakota? The past few years our friends all chip in to rent a big house and we celebrate up there. There’s snowboarding, skiing, a resort spa nearby. What do you guys think?”

“Can we afford that?” Tessa asked you.

“Yes we can and I think it sounds great,” you said. “You guys wanna go?”

“We can even get Toast a little jacket so he doesn’t get cold,” said Dean. “Jack will be there…”

“Shut up,” she said, pushing on his shoulder. “It sounds alright.”

“Just alright?” he teased. She rolled her eyes and got up, spinning back around and giving him a hug.

“Thanks,” she whispered.

“For what?” he asked quietly.

“I was starting to hate Christmas was all,” she said. He chuckled and reached over to his nightstand, taking out his wallet. He took out a few hundred and handed it over. “Uh, what’s this for?”

“Why don’t you go get yourself some winter boots and snowpants. My treat.”

“Dean.”

“You don’t have any and you need it for the trip. Besides, Y/N’s going with you after we finish making out,” he said with a wink.

“You’re so gross,” she said. She hugged him again and he plopped back in bed, stretching out wide as she left.

“Dean. I know what you got her for Christmas,” you said. “You can’t give her money all the time.”

“Boots and pants and lunch for the both of you is gonna be a few hundred. Have a girls day. I have my own shopping to do for you anyways,” he said as you lay back.

“Dean I have a good job now. I can pay for those things.”

“Y/N. I make an assload. A day of you two going and having fun like sisters do is more than worth two hundred dollars to me,” he said. “This guy did it for me and Sam once. I’m actually just paying it back so really you can’t say no.”

“Fine,” you sighed. “But after we makeout.”

“Oh you’re not getting out of this bed without that happening,” he chuckled.

_______

A/N: Read the Final Part here!

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #doctor!dean #au!dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #dean #winchester #dean spn #doctor!dean x reader

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taizi · 3 years

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Hi! I love your works! 71 + 72 for Luffy and Jinbei?

PROMPTS LIST

71. “I’m going to protect you.”

smile again

As a watchdog journalist, Jinbei's work takes him everywhere. He isn't always in the best position to receive phone calls. Sometimes, depending on what story his group decides to chase after and what far-flung corner of the world it leads them to, Jinbei goes weeks without internet access.

By the time he gets news of the accident, Luffy has been out of the hospital for a month and Ace has been dead just as long.

Jinbei has to go home.

His colleagues-- a group of solid, hard-working people he's known for going on twenty years, has worked with on the field and off, in smoke and fire and claustrophobic office spaces-- are entirely understanding.

Tiger drives him to a small airport, the truck bouncing along a bumpy gravel road. There's a single, hastily-packed duffel in the bed of the pickup. Jinbei isn't even sure what he shoved in there, having only made one mindless pass through his room. He would have left without his passport if Hatchan hadn't shoved it into his hands on his way out the door.

"It may be time for me to retire," Jinbei says aloud. His mind is ebbing and rising like a tide, a vast ocean of grief. Thoughts go bobbing away like loose buoys before he can get a grasp on them.

All he can think of is the last video-call he made home, over a month ago now. Ace and Luffy, pressed cheek-to-cheek so they'd both fit in-frame, competitive in all things and unwilling to take turns, even as Jinbei laughingly promised he had plenty of time to talk.

They made him promise to call again soon. He meant to.

"Don't worry about us over here," Tiger says. His eyes are on the road, hands tight around the steering wheel. He carries Jinbei's grief like it's his own. "Just worry about your boy."

His boy, Jinbei thinks. Not by blood or by law, certainly, but by something less quantifiable than that. Those scrappy kids that spilled into his yard one muggy summer evening, hiding in the hedges from their well-antagonized CPS caseworker and somehow claiming a piece of Jinbei's heart from the moment he first laid eyes on them.

Ace was so angry back then, and Luffy was so easily frightened, and they clung to each other in a practiced way, as if they were so used to the world trying to claw them apart that they didn't expect anything else, even from a perfect stranger. They didn't seem to know what to do with kindness. Ace watched Jinbei like a hawk for weeks, long after Luffy warmed up to him. His trust, when he finally gave it, felt like a prize.

Jinbei was working long, unpredictable hours, and knew it wouldn't be fair to drag two children into his household if he couldn't afford them the time and care they deserved-- but after school? Weekends? Holidays? Those he gave up freely.

His days gained some semblance of routine again, for the fist time since he finished college. His kitchenware came down from the cupboard, the pockmarked kitchen table was often set for three. He made dinner at home, more than he ate in the office with his colleagues.

Hell, his colleagues ate dinner with him at home more often, too. Within an hour of meeting the boys, each of Jinbei's friends, to a man, would have taken a bullet for either of them, no questions asked.

The sense of structure did wonders for the brothers. With a safe place to return to when they needed it, and someone to fall back on, Ace stopped looking at every potential foster home as if it was a threat. Luffy came out of his shell, bolder with each new day. He made a friend in the village, a boy with vivid green eyes, and they hardly spent a moment apart.

They were finally placed with a couple who lived nearby. Shanks was wry and good-natured, and Benn had the patience of a saint. After a few weeks, when Jinbei asked how they were settling in, his worries were soothed: Luffy clearly adored them, and even Ace grudgingly admitted they weren't so bad.

And when the time came, and Ace applied for emancipation as well as custody of his brother, he had a small army in his corner. A patchwork family collected in little bits and pieces, ready to support him through anything.

"I will always be here for you both," Jinbei had promised him, countless times. "You'll never be alone as long as I'm alive."

"Thank you," Ace said, a little bashful. But he was so pleased, and so full of hope for the future, and he said, "I'll feel better, knowing someone's around to look after Luffy if I can't."

He immediately got shouted down by his entire strange extended pseudo-family for daring to suggest they'd ever let anything happen to him, and it made him laugh so brightly, and now the memory sticks like needles in Jinbei's throat.

Tiger hugs him hard before Jinbei boards the plane. In the back of his mind, where there is a tiny corner free from drowning, Jinbei can't help but wonder when he'll see his friend again.

He keeps thinking of that last video call. He can't remember everything they talked about. He doesn't think he said enough. He almost certainly didn't tell Ace everything he deserved to hear. Foolishly, he assumed there would be another time.

He's learned from this. He won't take it for granted any more.

"Call me when you land," Tiger says. "Give the monkey our love."

"I will," Jinbei replies. His heart is so heavy he doesn't know how he manages the steps onto the plane. He doesn't know how the pilot manages to lift them up from the tarmac. It's a wonder they aren't sinking, straight through the earth.

Nami and Usopp are waiting for him at the airport, wide-awake even though it's well past two o'clock in the morning. They're familiar to Jinbei from the stories Luffy has told him, from the numerous video calls they've bullied their way into over the years, and the handful of birthdays and holidays Jinbei was able to make it home for.

"Luffy wanted to come with us to pick you up, but he fell asleep," Usopp says, apropos of nothing, as they're waiting for their Uber. "Sanji said it was a small miracle, and Zoro looked like he was going to hunt us for sport if we even thought about waking him up, so--"

"He hasn't been sleeping, then?" Jinbei asks quietly.

"After he came home, he was on some pretty heavy meds, and he slept a lot," Nami says. Her arms are folded tight against her chest in the nighttime chill, her eyes trained somewhere far away. "But he had bad dreams and he would wake up disoriented. Now he fights sleep tooth and nail."

"We've all sort of become the insomnia squad," Usopp pipes up. "Thank god I'm not taking any classes this summer."

"Sanji's gotten really good at making lattes," Nami adds with a small smile. "Wait till you see his shiny new espresso machine."

"I'm like eight-five percent sure he stole it from the Baratie."

Jinbei listens to their chatter, feeling at once anchored by them and adrift at sea. It makes sense that they would be ahead of him. They've been here all this time, practically from the moment of the accident, facing it with all the bravery and endurance of sailors in a typhoon. Jinbei, meanwhile, had been living in an unchanged world.

For the last month, Ace has been dead. How many times had Jinbei thought about him? Mentioned him to a friend? How many times had Jinbei wrongly said his name in the present-tense?

The house is warmly-lit when they arrive, but quiet. An old blue Irish wolfhound greets them at the door, wagging his tail. Robin looks up from the papers she has spread out on the coffee table and smiles. Chopper is fast asleep beside her, his head on her shoulder. Behind them, Jinbei can see Sanji at work in the kitchen, shaping dough. Something is baking that smells of cinnamon and apples.

They weren't kidding about their sleep schedules being a mess.

"Hello, Jinbei. It's good to see you," Robin says. Her voice is soft, in deference to the sleeping teenager. "Luffy is asleep, but you can see him if you like."

"Please," Jinbei replies hoarsely.

"I'll take him," Nami says. "Usopp, would you bring his bag to the guest bedroom?"

"'Course," Usopp replies, but he makes a detour into the kitchen first.

Nami takes Jinbei's hand and leads him toward the stairs. "I feel really stupid about this, but I was so angry at you," she admits as they make their way up. "It's hardly the first time we haven't been able to contact you, and I know why that is. But-- I don't know, I think I was going crazy. I wanted Luffy to have everything he wanted. I wanted everyone who loved him to be here every time he woke up. So I-- so there might be some angry emails waiting for you, but please don't hate me for it."

"I won't even read them," Jinbei promises gravely, his heart cleaved clean in two. "I can't imagine how-- how hard it must have been. I-- if I had gotten the messages sooner-- "

"I know," Nami assures him, pausing outside a closed bedroom door. "Franky spoke to you like six hours ago, and you're already here. You dropped everything to be here. We know the kind of person you are."

She stands up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, and Jinbei bends to accommodate her, the same way he does for Koala. Then Nami reaches out and pushes open the door.

Zoro is awake, sitting against the headboard with his phone in hand and earphones in, and his eyes are as bright and sharp now as they were when he was a child. He looks up when the door opens, and seems to relax when he sees Jinbei stepping in behind Nami.

"Go to sleep," Nami whispers, pointing at the second bed across the spacious room.

"Don't tell me what to do," Zoro replies, just as quiet, but he pulls his earphones out and extracts himself from the bed with all the exacting precision of a bomb disposal technician. Nami takes him by the arm, helping him get up so carefully that the mattress hardly moves. It's such a well-practiced maneuver that Jinbei thinks he honestly might cry.

"If one of you would stay for a bit, I'll grab a shower," Zoro says.

"Sure, stinky," Nami says, nudging him toward the door. "Jinbei?"

He nods, unsure of what he's agreeing to. Now that he's finally next to Luffy, nothing else seems to exist. He sinks into the chair beside the bed, only half-aware of Nami and Zoro leaving. Their murmured conversation is cut off by the closing door. The room is silent, save for the gentle, unobtrusive sound of Luffy's steady breathing.

He's lost weight since Jinbei saw him last. There are shadows on his face that don't belong there. He looks both older and younger than he has any right to, even now, when his face is untroubled and slack with sleep.

"Hello, little monkey," Jinbei says. His voice is quiet, but it still breaks. He's crying, he realizes, thick tears rolling down his face with abandon. "I'm sorry it took me so long."

He thinks of two little boys, spilling into his life on accident, taking up room in his home and his heart as if they always belonged there. They weren't his, not really, but he loved them anyway. Loves them still.

"I'm here now," he whispers. His hands are shaking. "I'm going to protect you, like I promised. I'm here, Ace. Please believe me, wherever you are. I won't fail you again."

#one piece #op #opfic #knight of the sea jimbei #cat burglar nami #god usopp #my writing #smile again #i woke up and chose violence #but i mean a couple people were wondering where jimbei was so u brought this upon urselves

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hanzajesthanza · 3 years

Text

regis and angouleme mentorship-friendship-parenthood masterpost

(notes under cut)

canon interactions

their first interaction is that regis, in an attempt to stop geralt from accusing cahir of treachery, accuses angouleme of lying, who appears and tells him not to accuse her... and her typical nicknaming all adult men “uncle” to annoy them follows. [1]

also from when they first meet, angouleme rides regis’s mule, draakul. it is sort of suggested that she took the ride without permission (as normal equines cannot stand regis’ presence, so why would he give it up?), but on the malheur pass, angouleme rides draakul again. with character development and trust, it may be inferred that upon this second time, she took the ride with permission.

jana komárková (whose work might be counted as canon as the official illustrator of the czech editions) drew regis protecting angouleme when geralt and cahir fight (although her regis design is debatable, heh)

regis does not understand angouleme’s usage of swearing, but takes up using her funny sayings, such as “look at what the cat dragged in,” amongst others. (this can be seen as similar to a father emulating teenage slang he heard from his daughter - to be annoying, or genuinely because he thinks they are nifty)

angouleme approaches geralt and regis as they are speaking together in the palace rose gardens and bothers them with gossip. regis does not rebuke her or show signs of annoyance, and responds to her gossip with seriousness.

angouleme and regis take turns informing geralt about milva’s recent life events concerning her refusal of the baron’s marriage proposal

regis defends angouleme when he did not need to from fringilla when she antagonizes her [2] and probes her for information about geralt. regis interrupts fringilla and begins to argue with her, which presents considerable risk for him as she is a sorceress and demonstrates, even within the conversation, that she knows him to be a vampire. [3]

similarities which bond them

turmultous youth, cruelty, loss and regaining of ‘humanity' [4]

addictions which dull their pain and numb them to the loss of their friends [5]

similar relationships to alcohol [6]

similar mannerisms in conversation; talking about unrelated topics when unprompted [7], and requiring someone to remind them to return to the topic at hand to refocus

for some reason, falling to stakes as a common motif [8]

bridges to cross

regis has achieved peace and acceptance already, angouleme is still surrounded by chaos and violence

regis focuses on helping others; angouleme focuses on annoying others. but they each do both canonically [9]

what can they learn?

angouleme could learn peace, humanity, acceptance. this would be a step in the right direction for her to re-learn how to treat herself and others with kindness (though i think “learning respect” would be a little much, and something she doesn’t need). regis is a healer, so being alongside him would allow her to heal from pain and focus on regeneration, life, instead of the violent and dark past... she also could learn about not defining herself as what others might see her as, instead determining her identity for herself [10]

regis could learn the capstone of humanity, fulfilling his character arc - as humanity is defined by mortality, parent and child dynamics. vampires do not have anything like parental guidance, so this is a uniquely human concept. it seems to me that in a company set out to rescue a daughter, it would be grand if he should come to personally understand what the concept of a daughter is

general thematic contrasts

the sage and the student, the wise and the ignorant (but as it turns out, the teacher becomes the student...)

the past and the future (meet together in the present)

the dark and the light (regis is dark-haired, angouleme is light-haired, they also have night and day motifs)

why regis and angouleme, specifically?

considering regis’s dark past and struggles with addiction and violence, i think he would understand angouleme well. the stupidity of youth... but also the value of it, why it can’t be discarded or shamed...

additionally, regis is a vampire and not beholden to human worrying and fussing over a child, which angouleme would find to be suffocating (for example, geralt or milva would forbid her from participating in dangerous activities, but regis may just shrug and think it would be a good lesson for her. of course, this means that he must learn the human way to parent, which is to keep your child out of danger). this would make regis a good confidant for angouleme, who may not want to tell geralt or milva about dangerous activities for fear they would ground her or worry

angouleme is exceedingly straightforward and regis is extremely philosophical which results in comedic exchanges

“child befriends strange otherworldly being” is always a great dynamic.

[1] one of the prominent themes of interactions in the witcher is when a parent meets a child which they will later adopt, but they meet on the wrong foot and dislike each other in the beginning. you can see this with geralt and ciri as well as yennefer and ciri.

[2] i characterize fringilla’s behavior in this scene towards angouleme as antagonizing her because suggesting that she unwillingly became pregnant isn’t a simple joke when one considers that fringilla is much older than angouleme and also angouleme is a csa survivor. to clarify, i don’t think fringilla is a bad person for this, but she went “too far” in the joke, as this may demonstrate that she is not close enough to angouleme to understand when she is comfortable and when she is not

[3] speaking of his nightly activities, as well as calling him only by his last names, which he tells no one, suggesting that she read his whole name from his mind. regis also mentions earlier that in order to stay safe in toussaint, he must ‘stay away from sorcerers,’ and he is clearly doing the opposite here.

[4] regis was not born with humanity, he had to learn it painstakingly after centuries of his only thoughts being of blood and parties. angouleme had humanity but lost it as she became a bandit and has been living ferally, her only thoughts of survival and a next meal.

[5] regis lost all of his friends slowly when he became so unpleasant to be around and focused on his addiction. angouleme lost all of her friends slowly as they were killed off by the law or unspoken events

[6] regis states in baptism of fire that it did not matter who they drank from, as long as there was hemoglobin. angouleme states in lady of the lake that you can get drunk on cheap wines just as well as you can from expensive ones, and you puke the same as well...

[7] angouleme speaks about how mining operations work in the north case mines, much to geralt’s annoyance. regis speaks about logging operations in angren, much to everyone’s annoyance. regis speaks on about his backstory in baptism of fire (his past). angouleme speaks on about her plans for a brothel in lady of the lake (her future).

[8] regis was punctured by stakes when he was killed. both fulko artevelde and nightingale threatened to have angouleme gutted on a stake

[9] regis annoys geralt in baptism of fire multiple times, especially when he comes back for the fish soup scene. angouleme helps geralt when she makes her character debut and informs him about schirru’s plot.

[10] as it relates to regis saying that many would see him as a monster, a blood-drinking fiend... angouleme expects geralt and cahir to admonish her for her use of fisstech, and is aware that others see her as a no-good criminal. she could learn that all there is to identity is self-determination. also i definitely mean this manner of ‘determining your own identity’ in a transgender way thanks for reading

#f: i'm not your uncle dear child #c: regis #c: angouleme #in case anyone wants to have an explanation for everything going on inside my head at all times!

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tanakavox · 3 years

Text

"Rose luck, help me out for once...”

Zwei quietly muttered the words to himself as he played around with the raffle ticket he currently held in his hand. The number read 925, same as his birthday he couldn’t help but note before he let out an exasperated sigh. He had arrived a couple hours before the raffle actually began, hoping that by getting there early he’d increase his chances of winning by being one of the first people to grab a ticket. Unfortunately, that also meant he had to wait till the raffle draw actually began, and thus left the Corgi Faunus waiting on a nearby bench and utterly bored out of his mind.

‘I should have brought Rosie with me,’ he thought with a sigh. Having her around would not only make for better company than empty air, but also because she had far better luck at these kinds of things than he ever seemed to. From rigged carnie games, to crane games, to even contests and giveaways, Rosemary seemed to have been blessed by Lady Luck herself and was always winning something or other all the time. It was one of the very few things of his best friend and now lover that he had always been envious of, though that had mostly stemmed from his own lack of luck and how he always seemed to get the short end of the stick in regards to chance. Zwei’s inner musings were cut off as the raffle hostess, a dark skinned rabbit Faunus, came out to address the crowd, her voice being amplified by the microphone.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and those in between, we will now begin the raffle call! Three of you will be lucky enough to win a brand new Playstation five, so if your name is called please head to the office to collect your prize,” the hostess announced with a smile on her face, before she walked over to a box and pulled out a slip of paper.

"First number is… 189!"

Zwei mentally swore, doing his best to ignore the excited whoop that came from the crowd. He kept his calm, knowing that he still had a chance to win. The rabbit faunus smiled at the enthusiasm of the winer, before she pulled out another slip.

"Second number is...616!"

Another whoop emerged from the crowd, and the silver eyed Huntsman's heart began to beat loudly in his chest. His fists were clenched so tight that his knuckles had turned white, and a cold sweat had broken out over his neck.

“Please,” Zwei said to himself in a near whisper, his eyes closing as he sent a prayer to literally anyone who would listen, “Just let my luck hold out for once…”

The hostess let out another pleased smile, before she pulled out the final slip of paper, and thus the final winner.

"And the third and final number is…925!”

Zwei’s eyes snapped open in disbelief, his jaw dropping at his incredible turn of luck. His shock quickly turned to glee, before he fistpumped and let out a loud, “HELL YEAH!” He quickly made a beeline to the office, eagerly awaiting to get his prize. After a short wait, the hostess came into the office to present the prizes to Zwei and the other two winners(Whom Zwei would later learn where both Huntsmen, but that was a story for another time).

Zwei had the biggest grin on his face as he walked out with a brand new Playstation Five, the elusive console that he had been on the hunt for nearly three days straight. It even came bundled with a copy of the new Spider Man and the Demon Souls Remake, which was an absolute steal!

"Rosie is never gonna believe I won this through a raffle,” Zwei chuckled to himself, imagining the look of disbelief on his lady's face, before he found his musing interrupted when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He looked down in confusion to see who it was, only to look on in annoyance at the women before him. She appeared to be a middle aged woman with an inverted bob cut, expensive winter clothing, and body language that basically screamed “ego.” Zwei knew without doubt that the woman in front of him was a, “Karen,” and that he had a strong inkling as to what she had approached him for.

"Excuse me,” the “Karen,” began, her shrill tone laced with condensation as she addressed the Huntsmen, “Do you think you would be willing to-”

“Nope.”

Zwei’s sudden interruption caught the Karen off guard. She looked shocked at having been so suddenly denied, while Zwei looked down upon her with a bored, almost uninterested look on his face.

“You don’t understand,” She tried again, this time with a more pleading tone, “But my baby-”

"Let me take a wild guess,” Zwei interrupted her in a bored tone, “your baby has some kind of incurable disease? Or maybe they lost a limb in a “tragic,” accident? Or some kind of other inane sob story that you’re trying to use to guilt trip me into giving up my recently acquired Playstation Five in my hands?”

Zwei had appeared to be right on the mark as the Karen’s jaw had practically merged with the floor from her ploy being easily discovered(and just as easily sunk), within a matter of seconds. Zwei couldn't help but scoff at her blatant attempt to try and swindle him out of the console in his hands.

“Yeah, I used to work retail lady, so I’ve heard every single sob story under the sun. So sorry to disappoint your “Baby,” but this thing is going straight under the tree and directly into the hands of my nephew come christmas morning. But uh, nice try though.”

Zwei then brushed past the women, not even bothering to acknowledge her any longer than he needed too as he made his way to the nearest exit. The Karen did not take the dismissive that well, her face flushed and angry red and her mouth contorted into an ugly grimace. She turned around and screamed at the top of her lungs, “IT'S BECAUSE OF PEOPLE LIKE YOU THAT MY SON WON'T BE ABLE TO EXPERIENCE THE JOY OF OPENING A PS5 ON CHRISTMAS DAY!"

"Why don’t you bitch to your whipped husband about it,” Zwei shouted over his shoulder, not even bothering to stop to address screaming women, “he's probably the only one who’s gonna give a shit lady."

His response had served to antagonize the Karen even more, who began screaming and raving louder till the whole mall was practically echoing with her shrill voice. Zwei simply kept on walking, a smug smile on his face and a feeling of content at having managed to luck out on getting the gift he wanted for his Nephew. He had just exited the mall when he suddenly felt a force impact his head, causing him to stumble forward a little before he managed to keep his balance. He quickly did an about face to see what had caused the impact, before his eyes narrowed upon a relatively large man with an even larger sword on his back who had his hand balled into his fist.

It was obvious that the man sucker punched him, though it did very little to hurt Zwei and was really more of an annoyance. Despite this, Zwei’s training kicked in and he instantly began assessing the threat level of the huntsmen before him. Standing next to the man was the Karen who was screaming at him, who now had a smug smile on her face as if she had pulled out a trump card.

“Still think my baby isn’t worth handing over the console kid?”

“Couldn’t swindle it from me, and now you’re trying to take it by force,” Zwei asked, before giving her a look of mock shame, “tsk, tsk, someone is going on Santa’s naughty list.”

“Hand over the console kid, and I promise not to break too many bones in your body,” his attacker threatened in a booming voice, only causing Zwei to roll his eyes at the overused threat.

“I have a better idea: how about instead of getting into a fight you don’t want to start, you use the remaining two brain cells you have left in your tiny little head of yours to grab your snotty wife and get the hell out of my sight, before I end up shoving a lump of coal straight down your “stocking?”

The man did not take kindly to Zwei’s counter proposal, choosing instead to pull out the sword of his back and readying to attack Zwei. Zwei quickly, but gently, tossed the Playstation Five in his hands to the side, before bringing up one half of Red Daylight to block the oncoming blow. Zwei could feel the aura behind the man’s sword as it impacted upon the flat of his hookblade, but he easily deflected the attack to his side in an almost comical manner.

Zwei blinked, before he looked over the man again as he lunged at Zwei, who merely side stepped his easily telegraphed attack. Upon further investigation, Zwei noticed that the man’s stance was sloppy and his defense was full of so many holes that even the most novice fighter could have taken him down. His sword strikes lacked fluidity to them, coming off more like the man was swinging a baseball bat around than a heavy sword. And while he clearly had his aura unlocked, he wasn’t properly distributing it throughout his body to make efficient use of it. Zwei deduced this in a manner of seconds, before he came to a sudden conclusion.

“...You’re not a huntsmen,” Zwei stated aloud, “you’re just some scrub that had his Aura unlocked and thought you could use it to bully people into submission!”

The “Scrub,” did not take kindly to Zwei’s revelation, his face contorted into an angry sneer before he made to swipe at Zwei again.

“You shut your damn mouth you filthy animal,” the Srub screamed in rage, “and give me that stupid console!”

Zwei once again merely stepped to the side, watching as his attacker overstepped his swing and ended up falling to the ground.

"Are you serious right now man,” Zwei asked in an incredulous tone, “do you even know how many laws you’re breaking right now from having your Aura unlocked? Let alone that you attacked me and started a fight in a public area full of civilians? Hell, what if I was a civilian?!”

The Scrub had managed to pick himself back up, before he sneered at Zwei’s questions.

"Then you would have died to make my son happy, animal,” the Scrub spat out hatefully, before readied himself for another attack. The Scrub barely had time to blink before he saw Zwei disappear and reappear instantly in front of him, not even having the time to react before the Corgi Faunus violently sunk his fist into the man's stomach. The results were instant: the Scrub dropped his sword as he violently began to retch and wheeze, falling to his knees as he desperately tried to keep himself from vomiting on the spot.

“You know,” Zwei began, “I was wrong about you and your wife. You two don’t don’t belong on Santa’s naughty list…”

Zwei then proceeded to grab the Scrub by his hair, before activating his semblance as he delivered a devastating knee strike to the man's face. His nose broke with a sickening crunch, and his face was practically covered with blood that leaked from his nostrils.

“...YOU TWO BELONG ON HIS SHIT LIST!!!”

Zwei hooked Red Daylight into the Scrubs collar, before he activated his semblance and began spinning around as fast as he could, before unceremoniously pulling hard enough to tear through the Scrubs collar and sending him flying out into unknown parts of Vale, his landing destination unknown.

-At a familiar dumpster-

“Oh man,” groaned a miserable voice, “how… how long was I out for?”

The voice belonged to the would-be thief that Zwei had taken care of the day before, now finally waking up from his coma induced nap on top of his bed of trash. He groggily managed to push himself up, whimpering the whole time from how much pain his body was in from the beating he received before managing to push the dumpster lid open. He hung the top of his body over the side of the dumpster, doing his best to ignore not only the smell of the garbage around him but from the fact that he had garbage in places that were best not mentioned.

“Worked up the courage to steal that stupid thing, and what do I get for my troubles,” the theif whimpered to himself, “my shit kicked in by a Huntsmen, being bathed in garbage, and I didn’t even steal the right thing!”

The thief let out another groan, before he looked up at the sky as if to mentally ask the Brother’s what he had done wrong.

“Can this get any worse?”

The man’s question was immediately answered by the sound of screaming getting closer and closer to him, before he felt the impact of an incredibly large man with an even larger sword knocking him back into the dumpster. The thief groaned in agony and tried to move, only to realize that he was now pinned under the large man, who was completely out cold and unmoving. The thief couldn’t do anything now, except blankly stare at the overcast sky.

“...Well, at least I have fresh air.”

The dumpster lid crashed down with a loud “THUMP,” once again trapping the Thief inside his rotten prison, muffling his sobs as he cried about what a rotten Christmas this was turning out to be.

-Back with Zwei-

“Brother’s what an asshole,” Zwei muttered to himself as he sheathed his weapon back with its sister blade. Zwei would have to make sure he made mention of the man to the local authorities, who would no doubt be sending a huntsman to apprehend the Scrub due to his illegally unlocked Aura. The thought of illegally unlocked Aura made Zwei briefly think of his brother in law for a moment, before he let it slip out of his mind.

“I wonder what Jaune got me for christmas this year,” he mused aloud, “Oh damn, maybe he got me Cyberpunk!”

Zwei smiled at the thought, Jaune typically gifted him games for christmas so there was a good chance that he may very well be shooting gangbangers in Night City soon enough. His smile quickly turned into a smirk, before raising his voice and saying:

“And just where do you think you’re going, Karen?”

The Karen in question was currently in the middle of trying to sneak away with his Playstation Five, before she stopped dead in her tracks from being called out. She visibly flinched when Zwei had suddenly materialized in front of her, his smirk plastered on his face as his confident eyes met her terrified ones.

“How kind of you to hang onto my nephew's gift while I beat the hell out of your husband,” he thanked her in a mock cheerful tone, “and here I was thinking that you were just a rotten woman with no sense of manners whatsoever! Guess you have some christmas spirit in you, huh?”

The Karens face got redder and redder as Zwei kept speaking, before she opened her mouth to scream at him…

“Ahem.”

… before her mouth clicked shut, and she looked around to see that she and Zwei were surrounded by a large crowd of people, including the Raffle Hostess who had presented Zwei his prize. The fight must have caused them to all come to investigate, and judging by their angry looks, they must have seen everything that had occurred. The Karen’s face drained of all color, and she began sweating bullets as the Hostess began to address her

“Ma’am,” she calmly began, “I do believe that device in your hand belongs to this young man, whom I should add, rightfully won the device in the raffle and has the legal paperwork to back up the ownership of it as well.”

The Karen went to say something, only to be interrupted by the Hostess, who now had an ominous look on her face.

“I would highly advise handing said device over to its rightful owner, Ma’am,” the Hostess said curtly, “As I’d hate for the police to have to add stolen goods on top of all the other charges you’re more than likely going to face tonight.”

It was at this point That Karen had finally noticed that there were several police officers waiting nearby, more than likely called in due to the fight, all of them giving The Karen an unimpressed look. Knowing that there was no way out of this, The Karen’s shoulder slumped in defeat, before she turned back Zwei, who was watching The Karen getting a dose of Karma with uncontained glee. Gritting her teeth, she slowly, albeit reluctantly, handed the Playstation Five back to Zwei, who happily took his console, before bowing to her in a mock fashion.

“Thank you so much Karen,” Zwei cheerfully stated, “I’m glad to see that we were able to clear up this little misunderstanding. But now, I think it’s time we both go our separate ways, don’t you think?”

Zwei didn’t even bother to let The Karen speak, before he started walking away, stopping only momentarily to give the Hostess a quick appreciative nod, before he kept on walking. Just as he got near the _edge of the crowd, he paused, before he briefly turned around to see The Karenin the middle of being cuffed by the police.

“Oh, and Karen?”

The Karen looked over to Zwei, face flushed red in embarrassment and her eyes burning with rage as she locked eyes with the smug looking Corgi Faunus.

“Hope you and your baby have a Merry Christmas,” he said smugly, “because it looks like it’s going to be a long one for the both of you!”

That was all it took to send The Karen over the edge, before she once again started screaming and raving and wishing all kinds of unpleasant things upon Zwei, who merely hollered with laughter as he activated his semblance and began making his way back to the Bullhead Docks. Despite running into some bumps along the way, he had achieved his goal of getting his nephew the perfect gift, and now all that was left was to go home.

“Just you wait Xing, you’re about to get one HELL of a gift…”

@thatorigamiguy did the edita for this again. Thanks dude!

#rwby #zwei xiao long #zwei rose #zwei #rwby zwei #fanaus #fanaus zwei #fanaus zwei au #rwby xing xiao long #xing #karen #entitled people

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songfell-ut · 4 years

Text

Chapter 14 is gooo

Taking a short break after this. My hands hurt. Yep

The moment Sans appeared outside of Alphys’ laboratory, he knew he was going to hate this. He took in the good ol’ Hotland ambiance – mostly rocks, lava, and being too damn hot – then kicked the snow from his slippers, brushed off his overcoat, and banged on the heavy door.

It peeked open, and a yellow snout showed in the crack. “C-come in,” a voice said apologetically.

Sans rolled his eyes as best he could. “It’s me, Al. Move it, will ya?”

“Sans!” The door flew open, and the reptilian scientist backed up to look at him fully. “It’s r-really you! I thought the h-humans g-got you!”

“They did. I got better.” The giant skeleton bobbed his head at her as he stepped inside. “How’ve ya been?”

She smiled weakly. “Um...”

He nodded and went ahead into the main area, Alphys shuffling after him. The building was three stories, constructed of brick and steel in order to keep any mishaps contained. Now that he was using his sense of smell, it stank in here; Frisk’s workroom smelled like books and priestess and green things growing, but this was something acrid that made the magic of his nose and throat sting. “I’ve been w-working,” said Alphys, somehow phrasing it as a personal fault. “W-would you like something t-to drink? His M-Majesty brought t-tea.”

Sans came to a halt as he spotted a large shape moving from the back storeroom into the nook by Alphys’ first-floor library. The King of the monsters flipped a witchlight on, and it burned so bright that Sans had to shut his eyes. The humans’ lights really were a lot dimmer. “Welcome back, Sans,” Asgore said jovially, seating himself on a couch and gesturing for the skeleton to take the biggest armchair. “It seems you’ve had quite the adventure. How are you feeling? Would you like some tea?”

“No, thanks, Yer Majesty.” The larger boss monster wedged himself into the chair. “I’ve had a hell of a time. What all did the others tell ya, if I may ask?”

Asgore smiled thinly. His beard was longer than Sans remembered, and his hair looked like something had been nesting in it—as if they needed more evidence of how useless he was on his own, Sans thought. “It was quite a story,” said the King. “Would you mind telling me what happened again, please, from your perspective? But first…” He gestured over Sans’ shoulder.

Sure enough, Alphys was hovering behind him, holding something in one shaky claw. “Um,” she explained.

Sans scowled at her. “Don’t gimme that look, Al. I’m not gonna bite ya.” He extended his hand. “That’s a truth stone, right? I don’t care. I’ve got nothin’ ta hide.” Much.

“It’s m-mostly to check for any residual human m-magic that may be affecting you,” the scientist said, presumably truthfully. She allowed him to pluck the cobalt sphere from her grasp and skittered away with a speed that hurt his feelings a little. He and Alphys had never been the closest of friends, but…well, Frisk and her flagrant lack of fear had obviously spoiled him.

Crap. Whatever was in the stone was pretty damn potent, because thinking of Frisk made him want to say things that he had no intention of letting out until he absolutely had to. Asgore was suspicious enough of him having been around the High Priestess and other humans for so long; what would happen if he found out Sans had fallen for her like a ton of bricks?

“Now…” Asgore poured himself another cup. “How did you come to be in the humans’ grasp?”

Sans hadn’t minded telling Undyne all this stuff, but sitting here fiddling with the stupid rock while the King sipped his tea and watched him as if Sans was going to explode—that, he did mind. But he did it, starting with how he’d been out hunting poachers for a couple days straight without eating anything, getting weak enough to eventually be captured, and failing to kill the High Priestess when she came to make him that fateful offer.

Asgore was frowning, one hand to his chin. “She was sincere about taking you as her apprentice, with no attempt to harm you or steal your magic? Didn’t that strike you as odd?”

No shit, King Fluffybuns. “Yeah, it did, but she never even tried anything like that.” It was true; Gaster was the one who’d purloined a bunch of his magic. Sans wasn’t going to muddy the waters by bringing him up just yet. “I could tell she knew what she was talking about with the potions and stuff. She’s pretty sharp.”

“Yes, of course. Forgive me, but I want to be very clear: she subdued you without harming you, single-handedly?”

Sans’ socket twitched. “Your Majesty is correct,” he said stiffly. “She’s the High Priestess fer a reason. Her barriers are stupid powerful. I don’t think you, me, ‘n Tori put together could crack one.”

As he’d intended, the casual mention of Toriel made Asgore twitch right back. From her position behind Sans’ chair, Alphys cleared her throat nervously. “Are you s-sure? A human sh-shouldn’t—”

The skeleton held up the blue sphere, tapping it with one phalange. “Yeah, I’m positive. If humans had anythin’ like boss monsters, she’d be one fer sure.”

Asgore put down his cup. “And this extraordinary young woman also happens to be the child we knew as Kris? Is that correct?”

“Yep. She’s proven it beyond any doubt ta both me and Undyne.” Somehow, Sans doubted Asgore had made her hold the goddamned rock while she talked. “The others forced 'er to lie about bein’ a boy, but everythin’ else about her was real. She didn’t wanna leave here at all, and as soon as she got her memories back, she started figurin’ out how to come back with me. It happened sooner than we planned ‘cause the King tried ta sell some monsters out from under her. She got so pissed off that she broke the law and brought ‘em here on her own.”

“Got her memories b—ah, yes. Undyne said they were taken from her at the convent.” Asgore’s foot patted the floor a few times. “How old was she when she first visited?” he asked, with a new edge to his voice.

Sans frowned. “She said she was ten. She just looked a lot younger ‘cause they weren’t feedin’ ‘er. Why?”

Another slow pat, pat of fur on carpet. “Undyne overheard someone say the High Priestess was King Stephin’s illegitimate daughter. Do you believe this to be true?”

The giant skeleton looked at the blue stone, studying the patterns swirling in its depths. “I’ve seen how the King acts with her, and the guy I was talkin’ to had no reason ta lie. Puttin’ everything together, yeah, it makes total sense.”

There was no response. Sans glanced up. To his surprise, Asgore was staring into his teacup, his brow furrowed; the King set the cup and saucer down so hard that it sloshed all over the table. Sans had never seen him spill his tea before. “What about her other personal connections?” he asked brusquely. “Other friends and family?”

“Uh…” Sans craned his neck around to see if Alphys understood what was going on, but she was pushing her glasses up and looking at him in equal bewilderment. “Well, she’s got a bunch of half-siblings from the King, but she’s not real close with any of ‘em. One actually tried to kill ‘er while I was there.” Asgore blinked in astonishment, and Sans nodded grimly. “She doesn’t have any other family. She said ‘er mom was dead, and I haven’t had a chance t’ask her any more about it. Not many friends, just some lady she knew from school an’ a lot of guys wantin’ ta marry her.” He wrinkled his nasal ridge. “A lot of guys.”

Asgore nodded again. “I see. Thank you.” He finally noticed the puddle of tea, and used the hem of his already-stained cloak to mop it up. “You’ve spent a great deal of time with her. What do you believe are her true intentions? What does she gain from freeing monsters and antagonizing the other humans?”

“Frisk doesn’t think in terms’a what she can get, Yer Majesty,” Sans said irritably. “I know she sounds too good ta be true. I thought so, too, at first. But she really wants to help us, an’ she can do it better than anyone else. She’s already taught me how ta make fertilizer and a bunch of other stuff to improve our crop yields, and she’s got a whole plan t’get us outta slavery fer good—I’ll let ‘er lay it out for you whenever ya talk with ‘er.” He tossed the sphere from hand to hand a few times, then curled his fingers around it. “Did Undyne tell you about the farm on the river?”

The King stroked his beard. “She did, but I have difficulty believing it. I’ve seen that property myself, and I can’t fathom anyone buying it out of pure altruism.”

“’s not just altruism. She wanted t’do it before she even knew she’d been here as a kid, but now she remembers us an’ how much we all cared about her.” Asgore half-smiled in acknowledgment. With considerable effort, Sans forced himself off that tangent, concluding, “Frisk’s the real deal, Majesty. Turnin’ her down ‘cause she’s human would be the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.”

The King sat back, eyes narrowed, and Alphys made a more-than-usually nervous sound. Sans fidgeted with the sphere. “Anythin’ else, Yer Majesty? I wanna get back home.”

Asgore’s gaze shifted from him to the diminutive scientist. “Do you have any questions, Dr. Alphys?”

For the first time, Alphys came around to stand in front of Sans. “Um…d-do you think she’d let me s-study her magic? I just c-can’t believe a human could be that p-powerful.”

Sans shrugged. “On the way here, she hid us with a barrier that kept people from seein’ or hearing me ‘n the wagons for over ten minutes straight. They couldn’t even tell the barrier was there.”

The King looked him, and at the sphere. Sans was rolling it around on his metacarpals at Alphys’ eye level, daring either of them to say he was lying. When Asgore remained silent, the scientist asked, “What else have you s-seen her do that m-most humans can’t?”

“Be a good person,” Sans mumbled, but the stone’s magic prodded him, and he had to add, “Here’s somethin’ weird. I was checkin’ on ‘er after she used up all ‘er magic on that barrier, and I ended up givin’ her a bunch of my magic by accident.”

Alphys’ jaw dropped. “You did what?” the King demanded.

Fuck. “Not like havin’ a kid or anything,” the skeleton said hurriedly. “I just…she’d been sick right before we left, so she was already a little run down, an’ I didn’t want us ta be stuck out there without ‘er magic.” That was true enough, but he had to physically stop himself from saying exactly how worried he had been. “I picked ‘er up, and next thing I knew, she was fresh as a daisy ‘n I was passing out. The exact same thing happened a few hours ago, right before I zapped us inta the Ruins.”

“I see.” Somewhat mollified, the King stroked his beard again. “Was she able to use any of your abilities, or did she convert your power into magic of her own?”

“She put a barrier up with it, so it was all her.” As he’d told Frisk way back in his prison cell, monsters were useless when it came to barriers; even if a human stole their magic and tried to use it to fuel a barrier, it wouldn’t stick. “Givin’ it away didn’t hurt me at all. It was jus’ like I’d been workin’ really hard, and I was fine the next day. I’m still a little tired from last time, but I feel like I just need ta get home ‘n go to sleep.”

“Hm.” At least Asgore looked thoughtful now, not angry or alarmed. “Has she ever passed any magic to you in a similar fashion?”

Something came into his mind and straight out his mouth: “No, but we did share a dream where she was able t’touch me, even though we were way far apart. Think that has somethin’ ta do with it?” Argh, that stupid fucking stone—

Luckily, this information didn’t seem to make as big an impression. Asgore just shook his head, looking helplessly at the scientist. “What do you think of all this, Doctor?”

“Hmmm…” The reptilian monster folded her arms. “The humans’ royal family has always had the g-gift of magic. She didn’t get any training as a ch-child, did she?” Sans shook his head. “That means it kept growing until she c-came to the Underground, and this environment p-probably stimulated it further. Humans who don’t use their magic as children will usually h-have more power as adults, and her magic didn’t manifest as anything d-destructive, so she was able to w-wait until the optimal time to learn how to use it.”

The King picked up the teapot. “How is she able to turn a monster’s power directly to her own use? And what about the shared dream?”

“I d-don’t think she’d be able to do that with a regular m-monster, Your Majesty. I think it’s because a boss monster’s S-SOUL is powerful enough that he had magic to spare, and his intention for her t-to have enough magic to p-protect them was the impetus.” She turned to Sans. “Have you been in proximity to her at another t-time when she needed m-magic and you wanted her to have m-more, or was this the first time those c-conditions existed?”

The skeleton thought it over, and had to shake his head. “Nah, this was the first time we were in that bad a situation. So, it’s not gonna keep happenin’ at random? It’s just ‘cause she needed it an’ I wanted her ta have some?” And we were cozying up? he managed not to add.

“I th-think so. It doesn’t hurt that you’ve spent so much time around each other, or that she’s been to the Underground and already l-likes monsters. Given that and your naturally strong c-capabilities, that could explain how her body was able to internalize your magic and express it for her own p-purposes. The same factors would facilitate physical c-c-contact in your dream.”

Sans nodded as calmly as he could, clamping his jaws shut as the truth spell urged him to say something about wanting to give her a lot more magic on purpose.

“Fascinating,” Asgore murmured. He absently picked something out of his beard. “All things considered, it doesn’t sound like she poses an immediate threat to any of us, and we may well benefit from her presence. Therefore, I will trust your judgment and Undyne’s, and allow her to stay for now. However, I will hold both of you responsible for her actions. Is that clear?”

“Sure, Yer Majesty.” Sans held the stone out to Alphys, who slipped into her coat pocket. “I’m gonna get goin’ now, if that’s all right.”

“Absolutely,” the King said, getting to his feet. “Welcome back.” He started to extend his hand, but withdrew it as Sans hopped up and started toward the door, hands in his pockets.

“I-I’ll see you out,” Alphys said quickly, covering the awkward moment. “If you’ll e-excuse me, Your Majesty—”

Asgore nodded, sinking back to the couch. A glance over his shoulder puzzled Sans: instead of being mad at the deliberate slight, the King was scowling and staring at nothing again, obviously back to his unhappy thoughts.

For once, Alphys went straight ahead of him, holding the door wide and closing it right behind them. “I didn’t w-want to ask this in f-front of King Asgore,” she stage-whispered up at him, and Sans obligingly knelt to hear her better. “Everything you were saying about exchanging your m-magic—are you…um…”

Sans gestured impatiently. “Spit it out, Al. Like I said, I’m not gonna—”

“A-are you in love with Frisk?!”

…Well, shit. Sans had forgotten how invested Alphys could get in any kind of narrative, and how quickly she’d pounce on any hint of romantic feelings between anyone, fictional or not. When he failed to immediately deny it, the scientist’s face nearly split in triumphant glee. “I knew it! The way y-you were going on, trying not t-to say too much—it was b-better than a whole p-play!”

“Shhh!” he hissed, though no one was even in sight, much less earshot. “Come on, Al! What would that even matter?!”

“Are you k-k-kidding me? Direct magical c-conversion doesn’t happen every day! It’s only possible between m-monsters in a reproductive context, and I’ve never heard of it at all between a monster and a h-human! Y-you gave it to her and sh-she used it twice!” The scientist slapped her own face and rocked side to side so gleefully that Sans thought she was going to keel over. “Everything I said to His M-Majesty was true, b-but there’s n-no way your magic could be interchangeable unless your SOULs had developed an incredibly strong b-b-bond!” Something like a tiny squeal. “I c-can’t b-believe this! You’ve g-g-got to promise me to b-bring her here tomorrow so I can s-see it for myself!”

“She was gonna come visit you anyway!” Sans protested. “I’m not puttin’ a show on for ya, okay? You can just study her magic!”

Alphys dropped her arms and gave him a look that made him more nervous than the entire interview with the King combined. “What?” he asked warily.

She held up one claw, then pulled a small device out of her coat. It was a square of glass set on a rod only a few inches long, framed with stones in eight colors. The scientist rubbed the white one and held it up as the glass came alive, flowing and surging within its frame like a drop of oil on water. “Hold s-still, please.”

Sans allowed Alphys to peer through the glass to check his SOUL, wishing more than ever that he could see it for himself. “How’s it lookin’?” he inquired carelessly, fooling neither of them. “What’s my LV?” A remarkably stupid question: it had been 20 for four or five years now, and LV didn't go any higher than that.

The scientist stared for so long that Sans had to reach down and tap her on the head. “Hellooo? Alphys? Ya there?”

Alphys didn’t move, except to say, faintly, “It’s 17.”

A very long pause. “I must be misunderstandin’ something,” Sans finally rumbled, “‘cause yer makin’ it sound like I lost a few LV. That doesn’t happen.”

“Be honest,” said Alphys, still staring. “How many p-people did you k-k-kill when you were with the h-humans?”

“Uh…one. Just…one. Someone who was tryin’ really hard ta murder her right in front’a me.” It was true, no matter how hard he thought about it. He hadn’t killed that group of poachers on his way back from bringing Snowdrake to the Underground, or even the fucking bastard who’d said something about her and called him names right to his face. “What does it matter? How would I even lose EXP? It’s not like I un-killed anyone!”

Alphys was starting to grin again. “I, er, w-won’t ask too many p-p-personal questions, but…do you feel…nicer when y-you’re around her?”

Sans scowled, but it was hard to keep up. “Are you sayin’ I’m gettin’ so mushy that it’s knockin’ my LV down? Remember the part where that’s literally impossible?!”

“These don’t l-lie, Sans.” The scientist waved the device at him. Sobering, she said, “I don’t th-think we should mention this to Asgore. He’s still a little, um, t-touchy about humans and m-m-monsters.”

“Agreed,” Sans mumbled.

She grimaced, and fiddled with the device, staring at the ground. “Um...d-does she still like p-plays? At all?”

Sans didn't know what to say. “If it'd make you happy, then yeah, I guess she does.”

“Hmm. I think y-you're probably right.” Alphys smiled in a quiet way he didn't usually see, then gave him that knowing look again, tucking the glass back into her coat. “I have a p-proposition for you. Just let me track your LV when you come here with Frisk tomorrow, and I won’t s-say anything strange to her about your SOULs. D-deal?”

He didn’t bother accusing her of blackmail: it was blackmail. Sans tried to look very scary, but she just folded her stubby arms at him until he stood up, said, “It’s too fuckin’ hot out here. See ya,” and was gone.

“Wow,” said Undyne. “That’s…wow.”

“Indeed,” murmured Toriel. She took another bite of apple, dabbing her mouth with the household’s single clean napkin. “You opened the box, and reclaimed your memories?”

Frisk nodded, cheeks glowing. “It’s been very hard,” she said, unable to keep a little quaver out of her voice.

This was honestly not what she'd had in mind. She'd planned to tell Toriel everything that had happened with Sans, explaining her mission and her plans for humans and monsters, and what a peaceful future could look like; instead, the former Queen had asked a few questions about her personal life, and now Frisk couldn't stop talking about it.

Toriel took her hand, breaking her out of her guilty thoughts, and Frisk smiled at her gratefully. “I think I’ve cried more in the past week or so than I have in the past year,” the priestess confessed. Not to mention more hugs in the last three weeks than the past three years. “So far, the second fortune seems to be coming true. Making it to the Underground was one of the hardest parts, so we’ll see how my plan might work from here on. And…” She coughed. “I’m not ashamed of what else might happen, I just…”

The air in the room got a little more heavy, the silence more complicated. They were sitting around the table in the chairs Undyne had charged out to grab from someone else’s house; Frisk had been feeling so emotional in general, and so grateful to have two other women to confide in, that she’d told them nearly everything, including the fortunes and the bit about having a child very soon. Undyne was visibly working up to the giant, inevitable question of “Who?” when the boss monster shook her head. “I hope, Frisk, that you’ll think very carefully before you make any decisions of that magnitude,” Toriel said disapprovingly.

Frisk was about to answer when all three women stopped, looked at the kitchen, glanced at each other, and did a sort of collective shrug. Toriel cleared her throat. “Besides abstinence, of course, do you know the steps you should take in order to avoid that outcome?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Frisk replied. Undyne looked lost, but Frisk wasn’t in the mood to explain human biology and birth control—it was awkward enough having to say why she needed to bring her bag with her to the bathroom. She also planned to never ask Toriel whether she thought a run-of-the-mill contraceptive would be sufficient against a boss monster’s magic.

“Well,” Undyne said firmly, moving on, “if it’s a big damn family you want, we’re not going anywhere.”

“Stop it, or I’m going to cry again,” Frisk scolded her, and they chuckled.

There was a more comfortable silence as they finished the last of the apples. “I hope this goes without saying, but if there is anything I can do for you while you are here, my child, you need only ask,” Toriel said, dabbing at her fur again.

“Actually,” said Frisk, “I would like a favor. We brought two wagons with us. One of them has gifts for everyone, and the other has a few provisions and my herbal supplies. Could you please check whether they’ve been inspected, and when we can go unload them?”

Toriel hesitated. Frisk understood why: it was a more official duty than Toriel had performed in a while. “I know it’s a lot to ask,” the human said, “but…”

“For you, dear, I will.” The boss monster sighed deeply. “I’d better do so now.” She folded the napkin and pushed her chair back. “Will you take her home with you, Captain?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I—” Undyne’s face fell. “Oh. Uh. Actually, my house is…”

Toriel sighed again. Frisk couldn’t help grinning. “Did you burn it down, or wreck it?”

“It was a training exercise that got too awesome,” the Captain said proudly. “I regret nothing! But, uh, I don’t have a house. I’ve been crashing with Papyrus.” She thumped the table. “Don’t worry, Frisk, I’ll stick with you. I’d do it even if His Majesty hadn’t ordered me to!”

Frisk winced, recalling what Sans had told her about the royal pair’s falling-out. A moment later, the fish monster caught herself and winced.

Sure enough, the former Queen’s hands were now gripping her robe, her eyes distant. “Did he?” she inquired. “How typical. Heaven forfend he speak to you or protect you himself, my child.” The boss monster shook her head. “You may either stay here or at the inn tonight, but starting tomorrow, my child, I’d like you to stay with me in the Ruins. You’re very welcome, too, Undyne.”

“But—” Frisk wished she could stuff the word back into her mouth as the monsters looked at her curiously. Somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to say that that was too far from Sans. “We’ll see,” she said lamely.

Undyne nodded. Toriel studied Frisk for a moment before saying, “All right, then. I’ll check on the wagons before I head home. Good night, dear.” She got to her feet, giving Frisk another hug. “Sleep well, Undyne—” She raised her voice. “I don’t know why you’ve been lurking back there, Sans, but I hope you also sleep well.”

“Yeah, I know it’s your house, boss, but eavesdropping is creepy,” Undyne said in the kitchen’s general direction. “Good night, Your Majesty. It’s, uh…it’s good to see you again.”

Toriel smiled a little, and let herself out.

The giant skeleton emerged from the back room, grumbling something about privacy. “Oh, bullcrap,” the fish monster retorted. “It’s not our fault your magic’s so damn strong. A kid could’ve felt it when you came in.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sans went into the living room and stretched out on the floor, looking at them upside down. “I see Tori got my note. Must’a woke ‘er when I knocked.”

Frisk and Undyne exchanged nods of agreement to not tell him what’d happened. “How’d it go with Asgore?” asked the latter.

“Pretty much what I expected. He made me use a damn truth stone, but at least now he knows I wasn’t lyin’ about Frisk wantin’ ta help everyone.”

Undyne scowled. “That sucks.” She sniffed. “You know what? It reeks in here. I don't mind it, but Frisk deserves better. C'mon, pu—Frisk, we're going to the inn.”

The priestess glanced at Sans, who looked as irate as she felt. “Maybe—”

“That's great. Night, boss!”

It was no use. Twelve minutes later, Frisk was staring at her reflection in the hotel's bathroom mirror, listening to Undyne's energetic nighttime routine in the next room.

The human sighed as dramatically as she could, turning out the light. Oh, well. At least she'd be able to get some sleep.

Frisk was too tired to sleep.

For one thing, her brain just wouldn't stop berating her for not sleeping, and for being at all unhappy. She'd made it Underground! She was home! She'd hugged Toriel just a few minutes ago; Undyne was in the next room; the abused monsters were all safe with their families; Sans and Papyrus' house was in easy walking distance...

It was wonderful. It was everything she'd wanted so much as a child that she'd had to forget it to even function again.

...But she couldn't sleep, because she couldn't scoot over and curl up against her giant, grouchy apprentice, which he...probably still was? They hadn't talked about that. They hadn't talked about several things that they really should have already. She'd been exactly brave and tipsy enough the other night to convey her intentions, but that had been pretty one-sided. Just for fun, Frisk tried saying it to herself: I gave him homework to do before he can have sex with me. It...didn't sound better in her head.

She heaved a sigh and burrowed under the thick hotel pillows to escape her own thoughts. Could this situation be any more ridiculous? How many steps had they skipped in a normal courtship? Was it even a courtship if he was both desperate and terrified to touch her?

She didn't care. She just wished he was here.

Frisk must have dozed off like that, because when she sat up, the pillows tumbled off the bed. “Sans?” she whispered.

Something rustled by the door. The priestess fumbled for the lamp, but her hand encountered bone as he reached it first.

It should have been a lovely moment, but the light clicking on forced her to throw the covers over her head. Sans chuckled, giving her a little shiver. "Nice ta see you, too," he murmured.

Now Frisk was squinty and self-conscious. There had been just enough room in her satchel for her oldest, frumpiest, most easily wadded-up nightgown; she'd also forgotten to pack a hairbrush, and the hotel only had huge, saw-toothed ones for monster fur. “What are you doing here?” she asked, sounding more petulant than she meant to.

Pause. "Leavin', I guess," he said in evident displeasure.

"No!" Frisk flew out of the covers and grabbed for his wrist. "I'm sorry! Don't—"

"Hey, hey, easy," Sans said gently, sitting on the floor and smoothing her hair out of her eyes. Frisk moved over on her knees to bury her face in the white fur of his collar, and he rested his hand on her back. She missed the soft, disbelieving smile that crossed his face. "Just wanted t'check on ya. 's kinda weird bein' back in my stinky ol' bachelor pad with just me 'n Pap."

"I bet," Frisk said, petting the fur on his collar. "I wish we could find another bed big enough for you. Mine's been in that room for a couple of centuries at the very least, so it's not going anywhere."

He snorted. "I don't think my room's even big enough ta hold it. The whole room'd just be bed." They both considered this, and he said, "Honestly, I'd be okay with that," to which she had to nod agreement.

It was quiet, except for the snoring next door. "Is Papyrus still asleep?" asked Frisk.

"Yeah. I hope Tori got the wagons taken care of so we can feed 'im tomorrow." Sans lifted both pillows back onto the bed. "I'd be okay, 'cept ya went an' got me used to eatin' every day, so..."

"I'm not sorry." Frisk yawned. She was getting hungry for something more substantial than apples, but knew better than to ask. It was impossible to forget the fear of not knowing when she'd eat again; she had to remind herself that she wouldn't die from missing a couple of meals, and that the monsters had been living this way for years. If she had her way, it wouldn't be for much longer!

Sans was playing with the ends of her hair. "So..."

"Mm-hmm." Despite herself, Frisk was relaxing, her legs complaining about having to keep her upright. It'd been a very long day, and the little tugs on her scalp felt wonderful.

The giant skeleton nodded vaguely. "Alphys wants t'see ya," he mumbled. "She missed you, a'course, but she mostly doesn't believe me 'bout your magic bein' super-duper amazing." Frisk made a pleasantly indifferent sound. "And..." She felt him tense up. "You were right."

"About what?" she asked, opening her eyes, not quite looking up at him.

"Alphys checked my LV—ever heard of it?" She shook her head. "It stands for 'level of violence,' which is exactly what it sounds like. Monsters figured out how ta quantify it a long time ago, 'n mine's been 20 for years an' years. If it could go higher than that, I'd probably be in the forties or fifties by now. Well..." Deep breath. "It's gone down to 17."

"Hm." Frisk scratched her nose where a few white strands were tickling it. "Is it usually difficult to lower it?"

That must not have been the reaction Sans was looking for: he growled at her under his breath, withdrawing his hand. "It's not 'difficult,' kitten-pants, it's impossible. LV is what it is. There's no take-backs on killin' people. I shouldn't be so spoiled by livin' in a nice place with a nice lady an' nice food that I somehow got less evil. It doesn't work like that."

"You're not evil, Sans. You're not perfect, and you have done a lot of terrible things—" He grunted, and she persisted, "—but that doesn't mean you're irredeemable. If you were, you wouldn't care if you were evil or not."

He grunted again, which was not the answer she was looking for. Frisk poked his sternum. "I think you're looking at it the wrong way. You've been absorbing years of accumulated negativity down here, haven't you? What if you've been...I don't know, negating it with better emotions, or maybe sloughing it off like Gaster said? Would that account for your LV going down?"

He just shrugged, and she retaliated with more poking. "Then tell me this: did you kill anyone yesterday, before Undyne attacked you?"

His massive ribcage swelled, carrying her outward and back in as he sighed. "No. One guy said somethin' gross, so I stabbed 'im in the foot. That was it."

She believed him. "And if you'd encountered him a month ago, would you only have stabbed him in the foot?"

The orange of his eyes dimmed. "...No. I'd'a killed him an' all of his buddies, no questions asked."

"All right, then." Frisk absently ran a finger down his ribs, pausing halfway down as he twitched. Was he ticklish? "That's another thing: if your magic's poisonous, why didn't I get sick and die when you gave me some of it?"

The skeleton laughed, short and harsh, nudging her hand away. "I barely even know how ya got it in the first place, sweetheart. Don't ask me why it worked or didn't work a certain way. 'm still not okay with just goin' for it the ol'-fashioned way an' hopin' you'll be fine."

That was the second time he'd called her that. Frisk's heart was in her throat. There was no wine or home-ground advantage here; she had to jump right in. "So..." She tried to sound playful, and was pretty sure she just sounded nervous. "Is that a 'no' after all? You don't ever want to try it? I know you haven't had much chance to practice what I asked, but..."

He had stopped moving—no breathing, nothing. The priestess pulled back a little. "Sans?"

"Then what?" he rumbled.

Frisk's hackles rose. "What do you mean, 'then what'?"

"I mean, what happens if we do it 'n I don't kill ya? Then what?"

It was a reasonable question, and she'd just been telling herself they needed to talk about it. Now that she had to answer, though, her mind was a roaring blank. "...Then...that would be...good?"

His hand flattened across her back and shoulders. "Yeah. At the very least, you could cross it off the list of stuff that's gotta happen for monsters t'go free. Sucks that gettin' knocked up is part of the deal.” Snort. “Maybe it's not too late ta find someone you'd actually want the kid to look like. You've still got a zillion guys ta pick from. There's, what, a month left before the timing starts t'get—"

The priestess pushed away hard, ignoring the pain in her chest. "What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded, sitting back to stare up at him. "Is it supposed to be some kind of joke? Or are you saying I'd sleep with anyone in order to make everything else happen?"

He blinked, realizing exactly what he'd said. "Uh. When ya put it like that..." The skeleton tried to shrug. "Heh. Nah, I was...I was just kiddin'."

"No, you weren't!" She jerked a hand upward and snapped her fingers twice, creating a bubble in which she could convey her thoughts at the proper volume. "I know what a joke sounds like, and that wasn't it!"

Sans scratched the back of his skull, bone grating on bone. "Fuck. I didn't mean—"

"You didn't mean what?" Frisk was too tired and hormonal for this! "What kind of shallow, selfish, irresponsible moron do you think I am, Sans?!"

"I don't!" The giant skeleton held up his hands, scooting back against the wall. "Wouldja calm down? Yer not dumb, or shallow, or whatever, and ya gotta be the least selfish person ever! Jus' forget about it, okay?"

"No!" She glared at him till he couldn't meet her eyes. "What were you trying to say? Was it, 'Frisk, I am concerned that you're rushing a major life decision for both of us based on something someone told you at a street fair, and I would like to discuss the long-term consequences, such as the ramifications of a child being half human and half boss monster'?"

"Yes! Exactly! ...Pretty much!"

"Then why didn't you say that? Why frame it as me being a shallow, selfish, irresponsible moron?!" The pain in her chest was getting worse. "No, don't answer that! Here's a better question: are you really that insecure? Do you honestly believe that the only reason anyone could ever love you was because they had to?!"

Sans looked as if the universe had crashed to a standstill. His eyes had gone blank, and his mouth moved a little, but nothing came out.

Frisk cleared her throat and swept her hair behind her ears, face burning. "I know you can't change how you think of yourself overnight, but until you do, I'm not going to sit here and let you insult me or you like that," she said, soft but firm. "Is that understood?"

No answer. His gobsmacked expression didn't change; in fact, he wasn't moving at all.

Despite herself, Frisk wanted to laugh. Poor Sans. He hadn't expected that word, had he? Purely to snap him out of it, the priestess said, "If you really can't make up your mind, then tell me so I can find someone e—"

"No!"

It was Frisk's turn to sit very still as the echoes died away. The boss monster glanced up at the barrier. He shook his head violently, scrubbed his face in both hands, and let his head drop back against the wall. "Look, I'm...I didn't think I was still so damn scared, okay? I thought I was gettin' over it, but when we're actually talkin' about this stuff, I—"

"You don't think I'm scared? I'm the one who's having a child!" If she had to spell it out for him further, then so be it: "Listen to me, Sans. I'm not doing any of this because a fortune told me to. It just helped me figure out how to get what I already wanted. Do you understand?"

His sockets slowly widened, his entire skull reddening, and now her face was hot again. "It's your turn to say something," Frisk mumbled.

Her apprentice rolled his head sideways, eyes flicking toward her, as if he'd scare her off by looking for too long. "So...ya really..." His voice faded and didn't come back.

Frisk desperately wanted to hug him again. Instead, she sighed, rubbed her breastbone – was it heartburn? – and summoned all her priestessliness to say, "Here's what I'd like to happen, Sans. We'll still be friends, I'll be your teacher, and you'll remain my bodyguard until we both decide otherwise. If you make up your mind and decide you want more than that,you need to tell me when you're ready. I won't bother you about it again."

Sans shifted his weight, but didn't answer. The priestess turned onto her side away from him, cuddling a pillow to her midsection—stress always made her cramps worse. "It's very late. In fact, at this point, it's very early. Please go and see if the wagons have been brought in, and have the gifts and the herbal supplies moved to Snowdin. The food can be distributed wherever it's most needed." She didn't hold in a yawn. "I'm going to sleep in for as long as Undyne lets me. We'll come to your house as soon as we're both up. All right?"

No response. "All right," she said. A click of her tongue, and the barrier was gone. Frisk got under the covers, rearranging the other pillow under her head. "Turn out the light, please."

Silence. The light clicked off. She heard him move toward the bed; something smooth touched her cheek, and without thinking, Frisk reached up and clasped his forefinger. "Good night, Sans."

His hand slipped away. Her chest hurt so much that she wanted to cry again.

...He hadn't gotten up yet. Could he tell that she didn't mean the calm, logical things she'd said, and how much she wanted him to stay?

No, it wasn't his job to read her mind, and at least one of them had to be sensible about all of this. Frisk stayed quiet, burying her face in the pillow as she heard him climb to his feet.

But instead of the whisper of magic taking him away, there came a shuffling sound and a soft thump, and another shuffle and thump; a whooshing sound, the smell of leather—the boss monster was removing his slippers and his overcoat, tossing them on the floor. Frisk sat up, trying to see him in the total darkness. "Sans, what are you—"

There was a strange feeling in the air, and a sort of grunting sound, analogous to a human trying to break wind. "There. Think I got it," he said after a moment.

That was strange; he hadn't moved, but his voice sounded much closer. Thoroughly confused, Frisk edged away as he sat down on the bed. The pain in her chest had almost disappeared, but she forgot to breathe as Sans shifted even closer. The mattress creaked, and his shoulder bumped hers as he reached across her lap, resting his weight on her other side and bringing his face just a few inches away.

Frisk's heart was thumping so hard that she couldn't think straight; she didn't understand what was so different about him until she reached up to touch his cheekbone, just below the light from his sockets. Suddenly, it hit her: she could spread her fingers and cover almost the entire side of his face. "You shrunk?" she squeaked.

Sans chuckled again, and Frisk felt-lightheaded. "Ya wanted me t'work on that, right?" He placed his human-sized hand on hers. "Ta-da." Pause. "Man. It's like wearin' clothes that're way too tight. Dunno how long I can keep this up."

Still in disbelief, the priestess rubbed her thumb across his nasal ridge, feeling his breath on her forearm. That explained why his eyes were only about a foot above hers now—it was convenient, but extremely disconcerting, to say the least.

"Till then..." He took her wrist. "Here's somethin' else I wanna try."

Frisk shook her head. "What do you mean? Something like—yeep!"

"Shit!" Sans dropped her hand like a piece of red-hot metal. "Did I bite ya? 'm sorry, I—"

"No! No, I just thought..." She tried to look at her palm, which of course she couldn't in the dark, wondering if she was losing her mind.

Sans let his head drop to her shoulder; she had the impression that he was getting ahold of himself before he sat back up and reclaimed her hand. Frisk tried not to jump as it happened again: he pressed her palm to his mouth, and instead of bone, she felt something warm and soft, exactly as if he'd kissed it.

She now had no idea what to say or what to expect. It was a huge relief to be drawn safely against him, his arms winding around her, stroking her hair and down her back. "So, yeah," he murmured into her hair.

At this size, his touch was a little less gentle than usual, not as light or careful, and he was holding her tighter. Her heart was doing the glued-together thing again; like every other part of her body, it reveled in being held like this, but it wanted her to move even closer and let him squeeze her harder. "Yes?" she managed.

"So...what all did you want me t'do again? Fix the size thing, make up my mind, quit hatin' myself?" The bones of his arms and ribs were starting to dig into her as his grip tightened. "Is..." He exhaled. "I still don't like me that much, so...is two outta three okay?"

Frisk's heart soared. She put her arms around him – all the way, for once – and let him bury his face in her neck, nearly crushing her against his ribcage. He was definitely hurting her now, but she didn't care—if anything, it wasn't enough. "Maybe," she said into his shoulder, playing with the folds of his shirt, which he obviously hadn't figured out how to downscale with the rest of him. "You don't have to be as confident as Papyrus, but are you willing to at least tolerate yourself?"

The skeleton shook his head a little, as if trying to rattle the words loose, then raised it enough to say, "I 'unno. 'm pretty lazy, an' it sounds like a lotta work."

"There you go again!" Frisk tugged on the shirt for emphasis. "You're not lazy. You've done so much for me and for the other monsters—would it kill you to do something for your sake?"

A long pause, ending on a shaky sigh. "Can I start with yer sake, maybe work up to mine?"

She closed her eyes, melting a little. "Deal." It was incredibly tempting to tell him how cute he was, but she didn't want to risk embarrassing him enough to start a full-blown pout. And as long as they were doing this... "Would you turn the light back on, please?"

A short pause. "Don't wanna."

"Why?" Inspiration struck: "I know I look awful, but you can just close your eyes."

"Wha—what kind of stupid crap is that? You—"

"Ha! You see?" She poked him in a random rib. "See what it's like?"

"Ha, ha, lady," Sans growled in her ear, making her pulse flutter again. He shifted his weight without letting her go. "'s not you, dummy. 'Sides, I can see pretty well in the dark already, 'member? I just figure I look goofy as hell, all bones and then this fleshy stuff hangin' off my mouth. At least ya can't see my tongue when I've got it out."

"Your...oh." Frisk's face was even warmer. "So that's what that was." Well, that was good to know. If he was worrying about how he looked with lips on, then that meant he planned to keep them on, which meant...

"Yep. I figured it out from bein' human. Wasn't that hard." Sans ran his phalanges over her scalp, and stopped dead at the sound she made. "Wouldja knock it off? I can't think straight when ya do that."

"Do what?" A sudden, kittenish impulse made Frisk run her nail down the back of his skull.

He growled again, much deeper. "That does it." Before she could react. Sans' fingers wound themselves into her hair, metacarpals spread in a loose grasp on the back of her head. She swallowed very hard, but let him tip her face up to his and lean in. His mouth brushed her lips, the lightest touch—

Frisk made another small sound, and to her frustration, his head snapped up. "What's wrong?" he demanded. "'s not my fault I don't know what I'm doin', I'm just tryin' not ta—"

He stopped as Frisk took his head in both hands. "Nothing's wrong. Now do it again," she whispered.

With a blink, and a deep breath, Sans let her pull him down to touch mouths again, but only for a moment before he ducked his head and dropped both hands for the first time. "You know...maybe this ain't such a good idea." She'd never heard him sound like this—not angry, but so self-conscious that he couldn't bring himself to look at her, even in the dark. "There's gotta be other stuff I can do fer—"

"Sans," she said, and when his eyes cut back to her, Frisk rose on her knees, groped around for the back of his skull, and leaned down to kiss him so hard that he had to catch himself before she knocked him over. Whatever magic he was using felt real enough to her: warm and yielding, it offered just enough resistance for him to kiss her back as his arms came up again, almost shyly.

She enjoyed the slow, deliberate movements for several seconds, then paused, silently daring him to stop; she was almost immediately rewarded with a hand threading its way back into her hair, pulling hard enough for a very nice twinge of pain. His other arm circled her waist, and Frisk scowled as his head moved down again. But a moment later, something sharp grazed her neck, and she cried out, grabbing blindly to keep him there.

Luckily, Sans seemed to have gotten the point. He chuckled, an almost predatory sound; something hot and damp trailed up the curve of her throat and along her jawline, his grip on her hair holding her in place so he could lick her neck again, and again, pressing his tongue hard enough to send chills and heat racing through her.

The boss monster let his teeth drift over her skin once more, a little edge of fear sharpening the pleasure. He nipped here and there, careful to lick anywhere he'd bitten too hard, until he misjudged and made her gasp aloud. When he paused to check on her, Frisk shook her head and leaned into him, humming the tiniest bit of encouragement.

That was all the invitation he needed: the world spun as Sans lowered her to the mattress, shoving the pillows aside and discreetly hitching up his baggy trousers. Frisk allowed him to settle himself most of the way on top of her, breathing deeply into the crook of her neck and giving it a few gentle laps. "You didn't mean it, didja?" he said, barely audible.

The priestess swallowed, trying to remember what the hell he was talking about. "I don't—"

He nuzzled her cheek, his phalanges tracing her collarbone. "I know ya didn't really mean it, findin' someone else if I couldn't make up my mind, 's just kinda..."

Frisk sighed impatiently. "I meant literally everything I said except for that."

Tap, tap went his fingers on her shoulder. "Everythin', huh?"

"All of it." Frisk rested her cheek on him. Compared to the incident in the bathroom, when all that had set him off was a glimpse of bare skin, he seemed in complete control of himself; maybe that was another reason he'd wanted the lights off. Either way, she wondered what would happen now. Was he going to go back to his house right away? Cuddle with her till Undyne got up? At this time of the month, it wasn't as if they could—

"'Kay," said Sans, with a different note in his voice. He shifted upward and kissed her again, more confident. Frisk started to speak, but forgot it when his tongue flicked against her lower lip, his hand working its way under her head. Her arms draped around his shoulders as her lips parted, and the feeling of his tongue sliding into her mouth made her whole body turn to plaster itself against him.

Letting him taste her was so absorbing that it took Frisk a minute to realize what his other hand was doing. The backs of his fingers stroked down her neck and along her collarbone, but they didn't stop there; his phalanges deliberately traced the side of her breast, and she was tingling in anticipation when his hand kept right on going to her waist, reaching under her thigh to pull it up so he could—

Frisk went rigid and shoved at his clavicle. The moment her mouth was free, she emitted a steady stream of "Waitwaitwaitwait!"s that brought him up short.

Very reluctantly, he sat up, and she grabbed a pillow to hold between them as an extremely ineffectual barrier. "What the fuck?" the boss monster snarled.

She could have slapped him. "Don't give me that!" she snarled right back. "No one said we were going any further than that, and we can't right now!"

Sans was panting so hard that she could feel it heating the entire pillow. "Okay," he said, trying very poorly to sound reasonable. "Right. Asgore, destiny, can't get knocked up yet blah blah—"

Well, at least she was too angry to be embarrassed. "It's not just that! I've got my period, Sans. You know, menstruation? Did you come across it in any of my books?"

He blinked again, this time in thought. "Yeah. Is that how you say that word? I think I was drunk when I read about it." He shook his head. "So you're...what now?"

God damn it. "I'm bleeding from the exact place where you were going. It's technically possible to go ahead and have sex anyway, but I'm tired, and it already hurts a little, and it would make a horrible mess, and I would completely hate it. That's why the answer is 'no' for at least four or five more days, and then there's Asgore and destiny blah blah. Understood?"

Sans' ardor seemed to have cooled. "Yeah, I get it," he said grudgingly. "Here, close yer eyes."

Frisk thought he was trying to go in for another kiss, but a moment later, the light clicked on. From behind the pillow, she felt another strange pulse of magic. "There. Man, that's better." His clothes shuffled; when her eyes had adjusted enough to look at him, he was back to his usual stature.

She waited, very patiently, and he eventually glanced at her. "So...d'ya want me ta leave?" A beat of silence. "Forever?"

"Of course not, unless you want me to think that you're not interested anymore," Frisk said before she could stop herself.

Squint. Glare. "Is this another thing where you're makin' up stupid crap ta prove a point?" She looked away, and Sans smacked his forehead. "Shit on a brick! No, I'm not ditchin' you 'cause I can't get laid right this second! I just figured..." Squirm. "That was really...y'know..." He sat down again, face glowing. "'m sorry. Did I hurt ya?"

Frisk winced. Now that the mood was officially gone, her neck was starting to feel distinctly chewed-upon, but she didn't want to talk about that. "No, I just meant my period. It's normal to have some pain or discomfort as your body's getting rid of certain things. Basically, it's Nature's punishment for not having a baby yet."

"Wow. That sucks big time." Scratch, scratch. "So...what can I do right now to not get in any more trouble?" he asked slowly.

The priestess gave him a wan smile. "That's an excellent question, but the answer is that you're not really in trouble. If you hadn't stopped when I said to..." She drew a finger across her throat. "But you did, and the rest of it was...fine." She smiled wider, though she couldn't quite look at him. "I think we should go to sleep now."

“Agreed.” Her heart sank as Sans stuck his feet into his slippers and retrieved his overcoat. The lamp clicked off. "Don' mind me," he said abruptly, and turned onto his side, the orange light of his eyes fading.

Frisk sat there for a moment, then climbed over the second pillow, to where his head was resting on the floor. "Good night," she said, and pulled the covers loose from the foot of the bed to get under them from the wrong end.

There was no response, but she felt him reach over to touch her cheek again. She squeezed his forefinger again as his hand rested on the bed; neither of them quite let go as they lay back down, and both swiftly fell asleep.

Bam. Babam. BambamBANG went the door.

Frisk jerked awake as light streamed in from the hallway. "What's wrong?" demanded Undyne. "Are you sick, or—"

There was a perfectly frozen moment as the Royal Guard Captain, in her fish-print pajamas and comfiest eyepatch, stared at the High Priestess, resplendent in her rumpled nightgown and a severe case of bed-head, and then at the bleary skeleton on the floor. Then there was no skeleton on the floor, only Frisk reaching for the lamp. Undyne blinked. "Uh..."

"Good morning," Frisk said, not being casual or sheepish, because why would she? "What time is it?"

Undyne scratched her neck, sweeping her loose hair aside. "It's almost eight o'clock. Don't expect me to let you sleep this late again." She glanced at the floor, as if doubting herself. "Rough night?"

Frisk looked at her, and she said, "Yes."

"That sucks." The fish monster came into the room and opened Frisk's satchel. "Not a lot to pick from, is there? You could borrow some of my stuff, but I don't think anything would fit. You're still pretty shrimpy."

"I'd argue if I could." Frisk yawned. "I'll see if I can go shopping later. In the meantime, I should have at least one clean outfit left."

Undyne did a quick, professional sniff test, locating the gown in question and turning to hand it to her. "Here. We've got a busy day. The wagons are ready to be unloaded, and I already had 'em take out...the food...for. Uh." Her eye widened. "That's...wow."

The priestess had been feeling fairly confident that she'd avoided any awkward questions for the moment, though she was dreading the hints Undyne would drop when they got to Sans' house; that wisp of security evaporated under the Captain's stare. "Wow," she said again. "I...damn! Seriously?!"

Frisk had no idea what she—oh. Oh, God. Oh, no. No no no no no—

Undyne had the decency to let Frisk run to the bathroom and stare at herself in the mirror for the count of twenty; then she sauntered in, allowing the human time to snatch her collar up to her chin. "Yep," said Undyne. "Here's your dress." She set it on the counter.

Frisk had another pathetic little hope that that was it, until she glanced in the mirror and saw that her friend's face was completely contorted with the effort of not grinning her giant, toothy, giant grin all over the place. "Really?" Undyne asked rhetorically.

"Shut up." Frisk stared dully at the bruises and occasional tooth mark ringing her neck. "Please, please shut up."

"Pffft! Like I have to say anything!"

"Shut up, please!"

Undyne was shaking her head, not as a threat so much as sheer disbelief. "I—seriously? No offense, but, Sans? I don't believe this!" Her grin faded a little. "Well...” She shrugged. “Not that it's anyone else's business, but just so you know, this is gonna mess some people up pretty bad." The grin faded to a smirk. "There's no way we can tell Her Majesty about this, or she'll turn him into a million toothpicks." It faded a little more. "I dunno how serious you guys are, but..." The smile was gone. "I don't think His Majesty would take it that well."

"Undyne, please don't tell anyone yet," Frisk said urgently. "Sans and I agreed not to let things get too far before I've spoken to Asgore about a peace treaty, and don't give me that look! This is as far as we got!"

The Captain held up her hands. "All right! All right! I know how serious you are about makin' peace, and about all of us. I won't mess that up." She straightened and gave a sort of salute, looking very stern in her pajamas and comfiest eyepatch. "My lips are sealed."

The High Priestess nodded. "Thank you." She examined her neck again in the mirror. Undyne closed the door, still shaking her head; when she was gone, Frisk finally permitted herself to smile.

#songfell #welp there we go #guess what also happened to me yesterday

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everlarkficexchange · 4 years

Text

Operation: BREAD (Bring Revenge on Everdeen to Avenge Dad)

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 23: Rumor: MrEverdeen crossed fence dividing Town and Seam, kidnapped Mrs Everdeen making her his common law wife. Years later, Mellark sons plan to avenge their father by raiding Seam and kidnapping one of Everdeen’s daughters for one of them to take as a wife! Does Katniss “volunteer,” does she escape, how do the 3 brothers decide what to do with her since they didn’t plan it all out well? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Rated: T for now, for language.

Author’s Note: So, I resigned myself that this prompt won’t be completed by the new dateline of May 10th, because believe it not, quarantining with the husband and children at home makes for a very busy day… everyday. I haven’t been able to write anything for days at a time, and everytime I come back, I reread what I’ve written so far, and find faults that need fixing and what I hoped to be a short story is turning into a long one shot because I’m incapable of keep things simple… and now I’m ranting about everything instead of thanking everyone— from the EFE administrators, to @567inpanem for the prompt, and y’all dear readers— and wishing all moms a happy Mother’s Day, even if you celebrate it on a different date in your country… and I a belated happy birthday to Katniss Everdeen and Also a happy Mother’s Day to her, because she deserves it… anywho…

Here’s is the very first part of this story, that can’t make up its mind on what it wants to be (it’s leaning into romcom territory right now), I’ll post all my submissions soonish (hopefully finished), and I apologize for any formatting defects since I’m posting from my cell phone, otherwise I’ll forget to post it at all.

Sorry this is messy! I love y’all! Stay healthy.

————

“Quiet, you morons!” Bannock… whispers?

Is that the right descriptor for the harsh, low sounds that comes from his mouth? I’m not quite sure, but I look at him sheepishly, since I was the one to trip on air this time around and nearly knock down a clothesline, poles and all.

“S-sorry…” I stutter drunkenly.

Rye shrugs, uncaring. Asshole!

Bannock glares at us with his bloodshot, angry blue eyes before turning around and creeping forward.

It’s a chilly night out, with no stars and just a sliver of moon casting minimal light over us, ideal to maraud and raid… if we lived any place else, that is.

If we were to find ourselves face to face with the flashlight of a Peacekeeper patrolling the streets, things could go anywhere from awkward to deadly, and I really hope we don’t have to find out how it’ll truly go. We’re wasted, outside our house after curfew, and facing our mother’s wrath would probably be as terrible as any punishment the peacekeepers would inflict on us.

The later option has me swallowing thickly.

I’m no coward by any stretch of the word… but I do enjoy being alive, so… yeah.

“Don’t mess around, no more!” Bannock chides.

As soon as Bann turns around, Rye mouths his words back, mockingly, and I wonder— not for the first time— how can my brothers be so immature? Bannock just turned 25, while Rye has the mind of a 13 year old trapped in the muscular body of a 24 year old man; leaving sweet, little me, the 21 year old baby sibling, to bring the rear.

Rye burps, mostly quietly, earning another warning glare from Bann. All things considered, I’m a little impressed at how stealthily we’ve been moving so far, being as enebriated as we are and all. But who knows? Maybe we really aren’t as slick as my alcohol soaked brain thinks we are, and I’m just too skunked to know any better.

“D’you think we’ll be back before father wakes to take care of the ovens?” Rye slurs a little, squinting his eyes at a cat trotting across the alley in front of him. A second later he’s frowning down at the cat, shushing it obnoxiously, as if it’s soft paws are the ones making the stopping sounds coming from his own boots.

Bannock shrugs, “Who cares!”

I’m about to raise my hand and respond that I do, I care, but Rye starts laughing like an idiot, already distracted by something else. We turn to catch him picking up a stick and throwing it at the poor, unsuspecting cat. As soon as the stick hits it’s side, the animal loses its balance, making it fall into a trash can, with a terrified cry.

It’s awful. And loud.

“Knock it off!” Bannock growls as quietly as he can. “You’re gonna wake up the whole town, asshole!”

The cat meows indignantly, climbing out of the trash. He jumps to the other side and it’s gone in the next moment.

I sigh, rubbing one hand over my face. “Guys, I think we should go back. I don’t think Father will approve of this.”

“Shut up, Peeta!”

“Yeah! Shut it, runt!”

I grunt in aggravation under my breath. “I’m serious. We shouldn’t be out here… at all!” I insist.

“Why did you come then?” Bann hisses.

“You dragged me out with you, jackass!” I counter, pointedly. Plus, I’m the least drunk out of the three of us, and I figured I should keep an eye on them two, make sure they don’t get hurt in this idiotic quest… but I don’t say that out aloud. “I still don’t understand why, are we stumbling across town in the middle of the night, risking getting caught outside after curfew.”

“You know why, Peeta! We’ve gone over it to death,” snaps Bann, twisting his whole body to face me and almost walking into a potted plant sitting by somebody’s back door. “Father doesn’t know how to take care of himself, let alone how to defend his honor!”

“Our hands have been forced, runt. We need to pick up the slack, that’s why!”

I roll my eyes at my brothers.

It’s true though. For the last 26 years, our father has been both the butt of every joke said in the streets of district 12, and the victim of a tragic cautionary tale, people somehow feel the sadistic inclination to bring up to us, Mellark boys, as if we needed the reminder.

“Geez… save it for Everdeen, Bann. Let the runt keep his head instead of chewing it off him!”

Bannock frowns. It’s not everyday Rye comes to my defense, which means he really must be hammered.

Cool! I love brotherly affection… even if given under the influence.

“Whatever.” Bannock mutters under his breath. “We’re here anyway.” He signals to the fence dividing our district into two unequal sections: the merchant quarter, where we live, and the Seam (our destination), the largest— yet poorest— side of 12.

It’s unclear why the government erected the fence running right through the district in the first place, but the effect of having a literal barrier separating everyone in our small district, couldn’t be any clearer: we have a huge social divide amongst our people, very distinct and hard to overcome. Both sides distrusting the other, despite there never being a tangible reason why.

Personally, I think the most logical explanation for the creation of the internal fence, was just sheer desire to create hostility and antagonism between the citizens of 12… maybe it’s easier for the Capitol’s long arm to control a podunk place like here, when there’s an unbridgeable social chasm between our own denizens; how can we band together to demand better treatment and fair representation from the mighty Capitol, when we’re fighting with each other?

Of course, I keep my opinion to myself, because speaking of such things is just a sure way to find oneself in prison, facing charges of public agitation and whatnot.

Bann cuts through my musings, “Alright… let’s find a spot to cross over.” He says determined and still very intoxicated.

The worst kept secret in District 12, is how some sections of the fence are too close to the houses in the merchant side. If one really wants to cross into the other side over the fence, one only needs to look for a low wall adjacent to the top links of the fence to climb on, and after that, it’s all a matter of gravity pulling you down. Its been done before too…

Everyone speculates that’s what happened the day our father fell into disgrace: A man from the Seam found a weak spot to exploit… and the rest is history. Never mind the fact that jumping the fence is a common enough hooligan deed; how else can teenage couples reach the Slag Heap at the edge of the old coal mines to engage in their secret affairs?

It only takes us a few minutes to find a brick wall circling the backyard of a random house, just two feet shy of the fence.

We climb it with all the grace of a pig crawling up a greased pole, but after much huffing and puffing, we manage— with great effort— to drag ourselves over the barrier. We’re sweating and swearing, but who could blame us for that? We Mellark boys are just too broad and heavy with muscle, add to the mix the fact that we’ve drank our body weight in white liquor right before Bann had the brilliant idea of dragging us out here, and you have an uncoordinated— mostly clumsy— sad excuse, trio of vandals.

Rye goes first, then I go; finally, Bannock splatters down like a bullfrog, falling on his ass. He’s disgruntled and I suspect in dire need of a nap.

“Come on!” He commands, dusting his behind sloppily.

We’ve been walking aimlessly through unfamiliar dirt roads and dark unpaved alleys. The place is littered with produce crates set upside down in neat circles every other road… I vaguely wonder if that’s what passes as a socializing hot spot here in the Seam, like the square with its concrete benches is for us in town?

Sometimes I forget how things can be so shitty on this side of the District. It makes my stomach twist unpleasantly with guilt, realizing I take certain privileges for granted.

About five minutes into our stupid intrusion into Seam territory, Rye speaks up.

“Dude… do you know where they live?”

Bannock’s head snaps up, clearly annoyed. “How hard can it be to find the Seam’s apothecary?��

Very, actually.

First of all, The Seam consists of row after row of seemingly identical shacks, in varying states of shabbiness, arranged in a huge matrix of sorts. Each row is made of three to five houses with a slim road in between the next set of homes.

For what I gather in my limited liquor-addled brain, each horizontal row has a designated letter, and the vertical street goes by number. Other than that, there are no other distinguishing signs, telling us where we are or how to find the ‘Seam apothecary’ as Bann inarticulately dubbed it.

Rye groans in annoyance, seeming ready to overrule Bannock and call the whole thing off, himself; but my drunk ass is too stupid to keep my big mouth shut.

“They live close to the electric fence. Right before the meadow. They probably have a fence-in yard, too.”

I wince, regretting my words right away. I shouldn’t have said anything, but like an idiot, I couldn’t help spilling out the small bursts of information I’ve gathered over the years on the Everdeens.

I’m ashamed to admit it, but the Everdeens are a bit of an obsession to me… for all of us Mellarks, really. Given our entangled past with them, it shouldn’t be so much of a revelation, but this thing between our families has been a nuisance ever since I can remember and while my brothers and mother use it as a focal point of hatred and animosity. For me, is a curiosity driven thirst for knowledge on everything Everdeen. Anything that could shed light on our sordid past, I would gobble up, trying to answer why something that has virtually nothing to do with me and my brothers, still haunt us everywhere we go.

Rye frowns. “Fence-in yard?” He looks around the houses we are passing, realizing none of those have fences.

“Goat.” Bannock grunts, nodding thoughtfully. “Good catch, runt.”

“Huh?” Rye is scratching his head, confused.

“The blonde girl,” Bann says with mild irritation.

People from the Seam have a very specific look to them: dark— usually straight— hair, gray eyes, olive skin… ‘blonde’, blue eyed and pale, is more of a descriptor for people from the merchant class, like us… like Mrs. Everdeen.

The poor woman must stick out like a sore thumb in here; probably the same goes to her merchant-looking daughter, Primrose.

“What about the blonde?”

“She makes goat cheese.” Bann huffs as explanation, but since Rye still looks like the concept is too hard to fathom, Bannock grunts, expanding. “She trades the cheese in town. Mainly with Father. Which means, Everdeen has to keep at least one goat for the girl to have access to milk.”

“M’kay… goat, fences, meadow.” Rye lists clumsily on his fingers, following after Bann. “Got it!”

We quickened our steps in the direction of the electric fence. I’m still kicking myself for saying anything when we reach the last row of houses before the meadow.

I really hope I’m wrong about them having a goat, although I find it hard to believe Primrose steals milk from other people for her cheeses. She looks so sweet and innocent.

Alas, I’m too clever for my own good sometimes.

The very first house in the row at the edge of the meadow, has a pen connected to the house on the strip of backyard allotted to them. A tiny but sturdy shed stands against the back wall of the house, and if my eyes don’t deceive me, I can barely make out the snout of a goat, peeking out of the narrow opening of the shed.

“This is it!” Rye crows excitedly, rubbing his hands together and licking his chops like a hungry, humanoid wolf.

“Yeah. Finally!” Grunts Bann, “keep your voice down, doofus.” his reaction, both frenzied and anxious.

“Let’s do this!” Rye’s smile is deranged.

“Great!” I hiccup with fake enthusiasm. “What are we doing?” I deadpan, staring at my siblings with all the aggravation I can muster.

My brothers speak excitedly at the same time:

“Taking one of the girls back home with us!”/“Beating the shit out of Everdeen!”

My brothers look at each other, perplexed, and go, “”What?!” At the same time.

“Fuck!” I groan to the skies, noting its near dawn. “You better be joking! We came all the way out here, and you idiots didn’t plan what you were going to do once we arrived?”

“No… I mean, yes! No. it’s simple,” Slurs Rye trying to stare me in the eye and failing miserably, “We’re dragging Everdeen out here. Then, we’ll beat the snot out of the bastard, and have you doodle the whole thing out for Father… you’ll finally use that art talent of yours for something we’ll all enjoy… not just you,”

“No, no, no, no!” Snaps Bannock. “We’re taking one of Everdeen’s daughters, bring her back home with us, and avenge father.”

“What? Why?” Rye whines much too loud and even I shush him. “I thought we were just gonna jump the bastard and rearrange his face a little,” Rye sounds disappointed.

Bannock answers right away, sounding like our mother when she’s chiding us for some thing or another. “Dude… the guy stole Dad’s girl! You know what they say about repaying a slight with the same coin and all that shit. It stands to reason, the course of action here is to take one of the girls home with us, sleep with her, and get her pregnant or something, then she can’t come back to her daddy.”

I throw my hands up in the air, “That’s it! I’m out!” My brain practically short circuits with the outrageous shit my brothers are spewing out of their mouths.

Sure, beating the lights out of an unsuspecting man in front of his house in the middle of the night is already crazy, but Bann’s idea to take a girl away from her home, it’s beyond preposterous!

Instead of lashing out, I turn around and stalk away as fast as my legs can carry me. I’m still tipsy, so I stumble a little, but I’m determined to leave.

“Hey! Where are ya going?!”

I get grabbed by the bíceps and pulled back to ‘hide’ behind a scraggly bush overlooking the house we assume is Everdeen’s. My brothers push me down by the shoulders roughly, until I’m sitting on my ass.

“The hell is wrong with you two?” I snarl, trying to punch and kick either one of them.

“Shut up, runt! They’re gonna hear you!”

“Good! Then someone will call the Peacekeepers over.”

“Wha— No! Why would you want that?” Rye whines.

“I didn’t sign up for any of this crazy shit!” I spit enraged.

“Dude, you can’t bail on operation BREAD,” Rye scrunches up his face.

“Operation Bread? What in the hell, is operation Bread?” I wrench my arms free from them at last, glowering up at both.

“Bring Revenge on Everdeen to Avenge Dad!” Rye says proudly, a lopsided smile brightens his face, and all I want to do is punch his nose.

“You’re insane!” I sputter.

“No… I’m cle-ver!” Rye grins, tapping a finger to his temple.

“Come on, Peeta. You know this needs to be done!” Bann cuts in.

“No! It doesn’t!” I argue. I still feel woozy from alcohol though, so it’s costing me too much effort trying to get up. “This is just insane, Bannock! What you’re proposing is just… heinous!” I hiss.

Bannock’s face hardens, “Nobody will see it like that.” He assures, “An eye for an eye, baby brother.”

“So what? We’re gonna kidnap and rape an innocent girl in revenge, and you think that’ll fix anything? Will it bring peace? It’ll help you get Madelynn’s parents to back off and let her marry you?” I’m so pissed off, I’m pretty sure spittle is flying out of my mouth. “It won’t do anyone any good! Not us, nor father, and especially not Katniss or Primrose!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Bannock flies at me, and all I have to do is lift my arms to shield my head.

Rye is an equal opportunity asshole most of the time, but in this moment, he’s the one stopping Bannock from breaking my face in two, and I’m very grateful for my middle brother manhandling our eldest for me.

“Rape is a strong word, runt.” Rye gasps with the effort of keeping Bannock from kicking my ass. But if the wrinkling of his nose is any indication, I think maybe my words are chipping away some of his complicitness in this mess. “Maybe, what Bann meant, was, one of us will… you know… spend time with the girl, and then… make her his common law wife or something?” Rye looks at Bann expectantly.

Bannock nods. Rye lets go of him.

We all stay silent, breathing heavily for a moment.

“Same coin. Simple as that.”

If the stories are to be believed, Sorrel Everdeen crossed the fence dividing the merchant quarter and the seam, kidnapped my father’s betrothed— Lily— and made her his common law wife, despite being common knowledge, that the woman in question was engaged to our father since they were very young.

It’s an old rumor, really, with no real way to fact-check the events that led to this moment in time, but there’s always been some nasty whispering churning around town; tales varying in height and perjury, sometimes scandalous, others depraved, always with add-ons and full of conjectures flavored by the speaker in turn, but never the whole truth.

The worst thing is that the stories die down for a while when something juicer comes up, but then resurface, like a persistent oily stain on cement… It’s been 26 years since the real events leading to the Everdeens controversial marriage took place, yet the old gossip mill in District 12 has waxed over and rewritten the sordid story through the lense of judgemental people over and over again, until even our mother has started to repeat the outlandish tales, as if she wasn’t an active participant of the story herself.

Still… “I just can’t!” I say both exasperated and grossed out. “We should just go home—“

I get cut off when the door of the Everdeen house opens spilling faint candlelight into the almost blackened-out street.

My brothers rush to huddle around me, crowding on top of me like a pair of boulders… or worse: a pair of sweaty, heavy, alcohol doused men. Disgusting!

The door of the shack closes softly and to our shock, a very angry looking Katniss Everdeen stomps in the direction of the sad excuse for a bush we’re hiding in.

“Hmm… guys… I think she sees us.” I mumble calmly, yet terrified. Katniss Everdeen, eldest daughter of Sorrel and Lily, is coming our way with fire in her eyes.

TBC on AO3…

#Springtime Edition 2020 #alliswell21 #567inpanem #prompt 23 #submission

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reddogcollar · 3 years

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thinking more if my funny little rewrite thoughts so like. here's an entire run down of what I'd do with season 1 of my pride

under the cut cuz its long and like. warning for like. everything that already happens in the series anyway

starting first! with the naming conventions. so the whole naming scheme is appropriation of indigenous culture. and I'm white so take this one with a grain of salt but replacing that mess with instead the mother naming the cub after a trait after getting to know em would. probably fix it? Like naming a cub Power or Tenacious and. stuff

the names could not only be personality based but just general descriptors. Quick for someone fast, Golden for someone blonde, Cherished for someone especially loved by their mother. Names could also be based off something they want the child to be, like Fearless or Perceptive. naming a child after something they don't start as, but turn out to be instead would make everyone to regard the mother as an especially good one for knowing her child so well. Being wrong would have the opposite effect. Waiting too long would bring scorn, implying you don't spend enough time with your child to think of any name at all.

Prideless lions wouldn't be named by their parents at all, instead given the right to name themselves based on what they think. This leaves room for them to rename themselves as grow and change, something pride lions cant do. Until the cub names themselves, the mother will refer to them with affectionate nickname.

and I think that. fixes that issue. onto plot

I think episode 1 is fine left alone, though all three children would be left unnamed. though I think its weird how quick managed to rip off the skin all around nothing's eye but didn't actually damage it. Like at all. so she's half blind now too.

So they go on lion trial, power saying quick is unfit because he was bested by a cub, so there's no way he could've beat star fairly. sharp calls forth the currently unnamed fire to ask his opinion as a supposed witness. even though I'm pretty sure he ran away before star died? eh <3

despite having the chance to get rid of quick, he says it was fair and quick has earned the pride. whether or not that's true, fire is a devout believer in pride law and a pride without a mane would be worse than a pride lead by a cheating mane.

because nothing and quick each half blinded each other, they go with the law of equivalent exchange. one each gets something from the other. nothing asks for her and her brother's lives to spared, and quick asks that she always takes as little resources as possible

instead of like. skipping 2 years. it would instead actually like. show the childhood. how nothing is ignored by her on mother, and doted on by fire. specifically because he think she's weak. despite doting on her, he also generally ignores her opinions.

even as a little wounded baby she gets the least food and water, enforced by quick and even fire sometimes, rules are rules. some of the unnamed adults will try to cheat this tho and get her more food and water cuz Holy Shit? Dude?

when she's a little older and not. covered in open wounds. the adults more or less stop trying to protect her. she's on her own now, and they have cubs of their own to worry about anyways.

since time is also a resource she gets the least of that too, most notably the least time being trained in anything. hunting, fighting, tracking, she's taught the absolute least.

despite that, she always tries.to do the absolute most. first to volunteer for anything she could theoretically do, last to get picked for any minorly important task. getting ridiculed for doing things slower due to her limp, to the point where she starts trying to just power through the pain to walk normally. it only slows her down and she gets mocked more. fire generally doesn't stand up for her, just makes her lay down

eventually she starts getting out a bit. The younger cubs mock her, their parents don't stop them, her mom never speaks to her unless its to antagonize her, and quick is downright terrifying. despite being healed up, fire never leaves her alone and disregards her when she wants to be alone.

this is how she meets hover, who is now named insightful. bc I just inexplicably cant stand the name Hover for a lion. she thinks she's insightful, but she's kind of just snarky and a little mean without saying anything w real depth, probably bc they're all prepubescent

despite being snarky and a little mean, she's a breath of fresh air to nothing cuz she's yk. not ableist and calls fire out when he starts acting ableist. its a short interaction, and when they're home fire immediately goes to tell his mom there's not only a prideless lion in their territory, but a cub, implying her mother and possibly siblings are around. cuz he's a little bitch

nothing gets into an argument with him over it, she could've been their friend after all, and both fire and her mom yell at her for even thinking about disobeying pride law

not sure what else to do here, so skip to when they're 2 and fires about to be kicked out. they're both still nameless, bringing a lot of bad opinions power's way. she's also required to name at least fire before he leaves. so she sits down, rolls her eyes, and half asses the name fire. quick is about to push him out but nothing interrupts, saying she still needs a name.

power gets annoyed and demands what she could even be named after, her injury? her disregard for the law? her ability to butt in at the most annoying times? nothing sputters, shocked and unable to come up with a response for a moment. before she can, she's named nothing

she protests, and even fire thinks that's a lot. they're both shut down, by power and quick respectively. most of the present adults are shocked, some of the older ones even appalled. none step in though. fire has to go, and nothing leaves toward the watering holes so she doesn't cry in front of her mom. all that stupid shit is internalized though so she starts trying again to support her full weight on her leg no matter how much it hurts. thinking maybe it broke and healed so wrong that it can barely support her now. idk I'm no doctor

she ends up laying down by the water, feeling all bad and in pain. then she notices the crocodile and some other lion and yada yada saves her life. insightful immediately recognizes her and that stops nothing from chasing her off. they catch up a little until they hear someone coming. insightful runs off and farleap, now called jumper comes out of the grass.

she questions nothing, she heard something and she can definitely smell a stranger. nothing lies and said she just chased off a prideless. jumper doesn't seem convinced, but doesn't push it because the stranger is gone, at least. so she just gets her drink and nothing goes home. and that's the day.

next day we can be introduced to feather, now named light. he's the runt of his litter, the lightest color of his siblings, and the light of my life. his name has nothing to do with the reincarnation stuff, which ill get into later. he gets teased for being smaller than his sisters, but keeps up an over energetic, happy mood that children have. he prefers hanging out with nothing though, seeing as she's not gonna be mean to him for being short.

he refuses to leave her alone to the point of finding out when nothing starts sneaking out to see insightful. their little dates go all nice and cute until light jumps out of the bushes scaring the life out of them. nothing freaks out a little because holy fuck? quick's son just found her out? oh god oh fuck! insightful is just amused though, because children are funny.

they make light swear to keep it a secret, and he promises. as long as nothing lets him go with her whenever he wants, because its fun breaking the rules and being out at night. it's a little less fun third wheeling on your cousin's date when you're like 7 but its fine cuz insightful plays with him

everyone thinks its pretty weird how both nothing and light are getting exhausted in the middle of the day, and jumper is still on that "I don't believe that you chased that prideless off" stuff, and eventually convinces power of increasing like patrol or whatever, and everyone keeps their guard up, making it harder for nothing and insightful to meet

this spurs nothing to ask insightful to join, to which insightful asks her to leave the prides and go with her. nothing says she doesn't want insightful to just have to take care of her and it goes back and forth and its a whole thing. it turns into an argument and they part ways for the night before it can escalate further.

the next morning, insightful has shown up and is asking to join. mostly so she can spend more time trying to convince nothing to leave the prides with her.

they get convinced and she is stripped of her name immediately. either quick or power will rename her when they come with something suitable. of course she is. upset as all hell. she swallows it though, since she's never seen nothing so happy. light is ecstatic, also, cuz he thinks she is cool.

go through some time showing insightful being worn down by pride life, nothing still continuing to practically destroy her body to make herself palatable, and light being downright bullied because he's still smaller than his everyone his age. quick even starts looking down on his son cuz Why Is He Still So Small? light begins to resent his father, and pride life a little.

jumper is rude as hell, naturally. except this time insightful actually stands up for nothing by cuz holy shit? that's your girlfriend why wouldn't you help her?

we can also implement the homophobia rule here. because of course power is a homophobe. would you expect anything less??

and yeah that's the vibe until nothing is left with some unnamed lion to look after the children while everyone else is off doing things that are important. she goes off for a drink and light follows her because of course he does. yadda yadda fire is back for a visit cuz he thinks nothing is like. useless and can't survive without him. their little visit goes down light thinks its so cool to meet a bunch of prideless men yk yk

on their way back they run into quick, who is followed by power and insightful. that unnamed lion with the other children said nothing and light had been gone for a long time and quick is pissed off cuz that's his only son n she just took him off for a jaunt.

he's yelling at her and insightful is about to interject before she's stopped by power, and light interrupts his dad to tell him about fire's group. cuz hey it'll make him leave them alone so like? go off??

nothing gets pissed off at him though because he just sent his murderous father off to kill her brother. rude or not he's still important to her. she and power have their interaction, power whining about how much she "loves" her children, you know. except nothing disowns her. power gets called out and yk yk. its a whole thing and gives nothing some of the agency she lost over the years

then she goes off to find quick, insightful follows her to help, and light follows them because he feels bad.

quick is dead, proud is a dick, light is hidden away in this scene. it goes much the same except light is seeing his father's corpse for himself and insightful is there negotiating their lives alongside nothing. also threatening proud

they yet away with their lives and run as far away as possible just in case he comes after light. nothing may be annoyed but letting your small cousin be murdered isn't cool

so they go off to find fire. its important to nothing cuz ykkk he's her last living sibling and as far as she's concerned, her remaining immediate family. he treats her how he does cuz he loves her, right? right. right?

nothing lives on the stretch how she lived in the prides, taking as little as possible of everything. insightful starts trying to get her to eat more before she like. drops dead. but its hard bc yk internalized self hatred is a vibe. they stay hot on fire's trail, until they come across some bones, a lot of blood, and the eaten remains of tangle. I'm making that plot point more fucked up.

everyone is of course freaked out, and insightful immediately takes it on herself to make sure nothing and light have some skill in fighting cuz Oh My God! they each play to their strengths, and it's like typical training montage. I like to think that with nothing's bad leg opponents would naturally try to take advantage of her balance, and which point she could rear up on her hind legs and then unexpectedly just crash down onto her opponent with her full weight. idk I've never seen a lion fight.

so yeah they eventually find fire and light and insightful are like. not trusting him at all, they suspect him. nothing isn't so hasty with the blame, cannibalism is a lot to accuse your brother of. fire says that if he takes over the nearest pride, he can change her name due to her time as a prideless lion.

as discussed, light objects. he thinks she should be able to choose her own name. pride or not. fire the devout follower of pride law didn't like that

they kill that old man, fire demands the pride, moonstrike (now striker) denies him and he's like. "You cant do that. That's illegal" and striker claims he couldn't have beaten her mate in fair combat after getting his ass kicked the first time. plus he's got some random child that isn't his

he takes that as "kill the kid" and yk. goes after light. nothing's reaction time is normal now though and barrels into him before he can rip lights throat out. he's still gravely wounded though, so much so that insightful is fully occupied trying to keep him alive.

nothing and fire square off, fire is ableist, nothing challenges him. You know. except this time she kills him. she gets him on his back and cuts him open, guts everywhere. no Ghost scene.

Injured and horrified, she lays down. she's like. going to have a breakdown. she just killed her brother, light may be dead, these strangers won't quit staring at her, its not good. episode end.

cut to like next morning and nothing's injuries are being taken care of at the same time as light's. insightful is in there with em talking with striker. noticing she's up, striker asks her name. I'm still not sure what I'd want her to change it to but she does change it. perhaps Enough?

idk idk either way, she doesn't get the pride. she beat fire but it wasn't his to give. however, striker offers them all a place there, including light. boom season 1 end

#Tumblr did unimaginable things to this post

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 4 years

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Psycho Analysis: Macavity

(WARNING! Macavity has broken every human law! He broke the law of GRAVITY!)

Macavity, Macavity, there’s no one like Macavity… except Moriarty, anyway, since Macavity is pretty explicitly based on Holmes’ greatest foe even as far back as the original poem from T. S. Eliot’s Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats. But that’s really neither here nor there. Macavity is the “villain” of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s magnum opus, Cats. Villain is of course in quotations because Cats doesn’t even have a plot, so Macavity is really only a villain in the loosest sense, in that his “The Villain Sucks” song describes him as the ultimate evil cat and he does briefly kidnap Old Deuteronomy.

But no one told Tom Hooper this! When he decided to force a plot into a loosely connected showcase of singing, dancing cats, he also had to turn Macavity into a real antagonist! So how did he handle turning the Napoleon of crime, the fiend in feline shape, the monster of depravity, the one and only Macavity into an actual antagonizing force? And how does he stack up to the Macavity of the stage version (specifically the version from the 1998 film)?

Motivation/Goals: It can be surmised from the song that Macavity really just does what he does for kicks. The guy just revels in being evil, and so the real question is why wouldn’t he commit any given crime? On the stage, the evil we see is limited to kidnapping Old Deuteronomy and getting into a fight, but considering the song that describes him, which may or may not be exaggerated, the guy really gets around (though when you get to the scene of the crime, Macavity’s not there).

In the film, they actually managed to give Macavity a pretty interesting motivation to his constant kidnapping of cats throughout the film: he’s trying to spirit away the other Jellicle candidates so that Old Deuteronomy will have no choice but to let Macavity go to the Heaviside Layer and be reborn into a new life, a life where he will no longer be on wanted posters and can continue his crime spree unhindered. Say what you will about the rest of the alterations, but this is actually a pretty solid motivation.

Performance: Bryn Walters portrays him in the 1998 version, and with his limited time onstage, he manages to make Macavity memorable, though of course most of Macavity’s memorability comes from the song he has no part in. Of course, when Macavity does get his single scene, Walters costume and moves manage to really make Macavity a guy you’re not soon to forget.

In the movie, Macavity is portrayed by everyone’s favorite sexy British black guy, Idris Elba. Unfortunately, he is saddled with a design that makes him look like a nude man despite him having an awesome costume earlier in the film that is ditched later on so that he looks like Elba was streaking across the set, so the sexy is relegated to his voice here. Thankfully, that’s plenty enough, and it is evident Elba is having a blast as Macavity, which is always a plus for a villain no matter how good or bad the film is.

Final Fate: In the stage show, he just kind of vanishes after his battle with Munkustrap. In the movie, he tries to hitch a ride alongside Grizibella to the Heaviside Layer, only to end up stuck atop a statue. Now, you’d think this is stupid, since Macavity has been shown to have the ability to apparate throughout the film, oftentimes accompanied with him saying his own name or otherwise announcing his magical ability, meaning he has no reason to be scared or anxious since he can get out of this situation at anytime. But then you remember that despite everything, and despite the movie’s horrible ability at conveying the fact, Macavity is, in fact, a cat. And a cat would most definitely be an idiot to that degree. I think this might be the only evidence Tom Hooper has ever interacted with a cat for any length of time before.

Best Scene: Obviously his best scene onstage is his only one, since he only shows up once for his fight against Munkustrap, though his presence is foreshadowed many times ahead of the duel.

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For the film, though, him joining in at the very end of the song about him is the cherry on top of a fun recontextualization of “Macavity.” Typically, the song is a “The Villain Sucks” song, as Bombalurina isn’t actually evil onstage, making the song an ode to how evil and nasty Macavity is. But in the film, she is unambiguously on his side, making the song an example of her singing his praises and turning the tune into an outright villain song, and Macavity joining in at the end really just ties the whole thing together,.

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Best Quote: In the stage version, Macavity actually doesn’t speak, his only vocalizations being evil laughter – though what an evil laugh it is! In the movie, he has a lot of dialogue, but the very best bit he has is him announcing his own name like a Pokemon as he teleports. “Macavity!” I nearly had to pause the movie from laughing so hard.

Final Thoughts & Score: So Macavity is a very interesting villain in that he is just utterly incapable of being boring, though for entirely different reasons that seem baffling when you really think about it. In the stage version, he is barely onstage at all, has a single scene, doesn’t speak or sing… and yet how he’s described, how he looks, and how he moves just really ties him together and makes him into an exciting villain, one deserving of an 8/10. His actions are also the reason we get the wonderful homoeroticism of “Magical Mr. Mistoffelees,” and any villain whose actions lead to a cat prancing about a stage shooting lightning and having extreme amounts of homosexual tension with a swaggering rock star who is doing nothing but singing his praises as he does so is nothing short of amazing,

Then we have movie Macavity. This Macavity has a far stronger motivation, but the film both does and doesn’t handle it well. It kind of suffers because Cats and Macavity once again are not meant to have this sort of heavy narrative; they’re meant to be fun little bits of fluff. And that’s not even getting into how they changed Macavity from a ginger cat to a black and brown cat who, once again, looks more like Idris Elba is nude than anything, and unfortunately it’s really not as sexy as it sounds. Still, the fact Elba is having so much fun, the fact he jumps in on the song “Macavity,” and that kickass outfit he has near the start all really work and keep this Macavity from the bottom of the barrel. Much like the movie, there’s a lot bad with this iteration of the Napoleon of crime, but boy is he still fun and entertaining! That’s a 3/10 if I ever saw one.

All of this just goes to show that Macavity, no matter what way you slice him, is always going to be entertaining. Like, this character is an evil supervillain cat who is behind every single crime, and not only that, has broken every human law as well as the law of gravity! You can have a field day imagining how this cat has pulled off tax fraud, forgery, and genocide and somehow gotten away with it. Even through bad CGI, Macavity’s still there!

I would like to say I am a bit sad we never got the animated version of Cats from Amblimation, because I seriously would have loved to talk about that Macavity too. I mean, look at him!

Weep for what we have lost, because in this case… Macavity’s not there. Though, I will admit, as much as I love this design and how even if I didn’t have the name right there I’d recognize who it is, something is really lost when the character isn’t a man in cat makeup and a costume. Still, I don’t think this Macavity would be anything less than an 8 because Macavity really is just that fun of a character. Even in his worst showings he still manages to entertain and amuse, so I guess it really is true what they say:

There’s no one like Macavity.

#Psycho Analysis #Cats #andrew lloyd webber #Idris Elba #Bryn Walters #Macavity

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jackoshadows · 4 years

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I read something rather hilarious today and it made me realize that the fundamental issue for a lot of A Song of Ice and Fire fans is that they are not sure what they want Sansa to be.

Sansa stans proclaim her as being the most intelligent character in the series but then get angry when readers criticize her actions because she is just a naïve, innocent little girl who does not know any better. Any criticism of Sansa in the first book is mainly because Arya and Jon are biased against her due to jealousy and is not in anyway indicative of who Sansa really is. She has no flaws and is perfect as is at the start but also she is a great character because she has tremendous character growth over 5 books and learns and changes so much.

I recall an Arya post I made once about Arya’s traditionally feminine characteristics and mentioned a book canon fact that Arya was better than Sansa at managing a household. This immediately got me a triggered Sansa stan in the comments who claimed that I – and Arya - was wrong about this and that Sansa was the expert in household management since that was her forte. Despite me and several others pointing out that Arya’s extroverted nature and friendliness with the Winterfell working staff meant that she could manage them better, we were accused of ‘demonizing’ Sansa for implying that Sansa did not enjoy interacting with the smallfolk.

This is how the Sansa stan metas about how Arya would have never survived KL came about – from a need for Sansa to excel in an area where Arya could not. So despite Arya having survived Harrenhal by keeping silent and enduring abuse and despite Sansa impulsively trying to push Joffrey off a bridge (only prevented by the Hound), we were constantly told that Arya would have been killed off in KL while Sansa survived using her wits and ladylike demeanor. This school of thought was so widespread that it actually made it’s way into the TV show – a prime example of how Sophie Turner and D&D were basing Sansa off Sansa stan metas on the internet instead of the actual books that GRRM wrote.

Let’s take the most prominent example of this clash of viewpoints regarding Sansa – her being the smartest character in the books. Something that the TV show audience was hit over the head with using a huge hammer and we got basically any character introduced on the show literally looking at the camera and telling us – ‘Sansa is the smartest’

Right at the start of book one Robb, Jon and Arya view Joffrey as a vain, pretentious ‘little shit’ from observing his behavior. Sansa is the lone exception who thinks highly of him. Even after watching Joffrey sadistically mutilate Mycah and attempt to injure/kill Arya, Sansa sides with him over her family. We are told by Sansa stans that a) she is just a naïve, innocent girl and b) she is cleverly siding with her future in laws and also trying to protect Arya from her stupidity of sticking up for a low class butcher’s boy.

Sansa tattling all of Ned’s plans to Cersei is also blamed on Ned rather than the person who actively made the decision to betray her father just so she could marry Joffrey and become queen. Let’s see what Sansa knows at this point - Cersei Lannister ordered that Sansa’s pet direwolf Lady be put to death for something that she played no part in. Jaime Lannister has killed Stark men and run off. Ned tells her the following:

Father’s mouth twitched strangely. “Sansa, I’m not sending you away for fighting, though the gods know I’m sick of you two squabbling. I want you back in Winterfell for your own safety. Three of my men were cut down like dogs not a league from where we sit, and what does Robert do? He goes hunting.”

“Sweet one,” her father said gently, “listen to me. When you’re old enough, I will make you a match with a high lord who’s worthy of you, someone brave and gentle and strong. This match with Joffrey was a terrible mistake. That boy is no Prince Aemon, you must believe me.”

To the girls he said, “I am looking for a fast trading galley to take you home. These days, the sea is safer than the kingsroad. You will sail as soon as I can find a proper ship, with Septa Mordane and a complement of guards... and yes, with Syrio Forel, if he agrees to enter my service. But say nothing of this. It’s better if no one knows of our plans. We’ll talk again tomorrow.”

Ned let’s Sansa know that it’s dangerous in KL for both girls, that he was sending them home for their safety and to not let anyone know about their plans. What more should Ned explain to his 11 year old daughter to get her to comply? Should he explain to her the complicated politics of KL before she deigns to obey him? Should she have the basic intelligence to acknowledge that her older, wiser father knows better than her about these things and follow his orders? Or should she go tattle to Cersei despite knowing what the Lannisters have already done against her family?

Oh, but Sansa is just a naïve, innocent little girl. But Sansa is also so intelligent.

When Ned loses his head at the end of book one, Sansa finally realizes that the Lannisters are not the good guys – something that the rest of her siblings figured out in like the second chapter of the books. And Sansa stans are like – wow, Sansa is so smart now! She’s like the smartest Stark. Sansa then proceeds to trust the Tyrells - because they are good looking and charming and charismatic - while they play her to get power over the Lannisters. But she’s so smart! Sansa then trusts Dontos who is LF’s tool. But she’s so smart! Dany and Jon are so stupid as leaders – look at all their mistakes. But Sansa - she thought that one time about how she was going to make the people love her when she becomes queen – surely the best ruler/queen in the books!!

But this is all in the previous 3 books. Let’s look at the most recent Sansa in the Vale. Any growth? Which brings me to the hilarious post I read today and Sansa’s conversation with Maester Coleman.

Maester Coleman clearly tells Sansa that these high doses of Sweetsleep is dangerous for SweetRobin in the long term . No ifs, buts or maybes about it. And it’s clear that Sansa knows this considering it’s right there in the text – “Maester Coleman cares only for the boy though. Father and I have larger concerns” . While Coleman is talking to her about his worry for SR’s health, Sansa is pondering over how much she likes to dance and whether she should give it a try as Alayne. And when Coleman, once again hesitates at the end, Sansa basically threatens him with LF – take it up with the scary boss man. Nowhere in the text does she herself evince any concern for SR’s health or express doubts about the effects of sweetsleep on SR.

But we are once again informed by asoiaf experts/Sansa stans that Sansa is just a naïve, innocent 13 year old and like they did with Ned, blame Maester Coleman for not explaining it to her in more detail. Sansa does not have google or Wikipedia you guys! – how can she know that Maester Coleman is right? It’s not like his qualifications as Maester is relevant or anything.

I mean, Jon Snow at the wall – the character who is often mocked for being stupid and knowing nothing in contrast to smart Sansa by tumblr – should not have taken any of Maester Aemon’s advice without looking up what ‘kill the boy and let the man be born’ on Wikipedia and only then follow that advice. It’s not like Maesters have trained and learned about these things at the Citadel or anything.

So we are back to excusing Sansa’s actions because she is the innocent, naïve, little 13 year old who is not aware of sweetsleep being dangerous for SweetRobin and it is all the Maester’s fault because he did not explain it to her properly and Sansa should not just take a physician’s word at face value without checking up on it with Wikipedia first and that’s not available to her.

Oh, but also Sansa is super smart now. Smartest Stark, best ruler, most compassionate and maternal etc.

This is basically the dichotomy that we are going to continue to see from Sansa stans as Sansa starts to become more LF like in the books – she is after all currently learning from him, following his orders and thinking that he knows best about all things – even where SweetRobin is concerned.

And Sansa fans want her to be the expert player of the games – from pawn to player – is how they see her endgame. But the expert players of the game – Littlefinger, Varys – are not good people. They betray, backstab, employ treachery, destroy families. If Sansa wants to join their ranks and play the game, then she is going to have to get her hands dirty and do some not so nice things.

And that is not going match up with the Sansa stan viewpoint that Sansa is essentially a very good person who only does bad things because older, wiser people don’t explain things properly enough to nice, innocent naïve little Sansa. It’s going to be fun seeing all the mental gymnastics they do as they try to justify Sansa’s actions as being both super smart and also because she is naïve and innocent. Sansa does not know, she does not have Wikipedia is already one of the most hilarious excuses I have read today.

And this is why show Sansa was such a mess and there was such a huge dissonance between what we are told by the cast/crew about the character and what is shown on the screen. We are told that she is a compassionate, non-ambitious, non-power hungry character – and yet she is written as LF 2.0. We are told that she is the smartest ever while all the time she is written as being an utter moron deliberately sabotaging her brother when he is trying to save the North from an apocalyptic threat. We are told that she is a super politician/diplomat while she is written as a spoiled child brat needlessly antagonizing a much needed ally. We are told that she loves her family (Lone wolf dies etc.) but she is written as betraying them for power.

Sansa fans – like D&D and Sophie Turner for ex. – have an image of her which is contradicted by the writing but they are unable to reconcile these halves and so we end up with nonsensical, garbage characters like show Sansa and hilarious justifications of her actions on the internet from her fans.

#I read something funny today that I seriously thought was a joke post #But then I realized they were being serious #anti Sansa stark #anti Sansa #anti sansa stans #anti GOT #anti D&D #This is about book Sansa but has to be tagged anti Sansa because Sansa fans think that book Sansa is anti Sansa

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dinoyoongi · 5 years

Text

Cuddles & Kitty Cats

SYNOPSIS: After a night of drinking, you go to Yoongi’s dorm for some quality cuddles. Unfortunately, you’ve forgotten that you are currently giving him the silent treatment.

PAIRING: Yoongi x Reader

GENRE: Fluffy angst

WARNINGS: Language

WORD COUNT: 2292

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I have a million other things that I should be writing but this spontaneously jumped into my head. Nothing was planned, I just wrote whatever popped into my head. Hope you all enjoy!

_______________________________________

“Yoongi! Y/N is downstairs! Should security let her up or are you two still arguing?” Jin yells from the foyer of the apartment. Yoongi, who is currently slumped into the living room sofa and attempting to decode the obviously inebriated text messages you had just sent five minutes prior, lifts his head in confusion. He sighs heavily.

“I think she's drunk. Tell them to let her up.”

Your boyfriend and Jin idle by the door for what seems like fifteen minutes, waiting for the doorbell to sound. Yoongi is about to go search the floor for you when there's suddenly a loud banging on the door, followed by a pitiful whine. Jin yanks the door open quickly and both boys are startled when your body tumbles inside, crumpling to floor at their feet.

“Ow,” you half squeak, half hiccup. You slap the pristine, gleaming tiles with the palm of your hand. “Big Hit too cheap to spring for carpeting?”

“I don't think they anticipated drunk girls breaking their head open on our linoleum, Sweetheart,” Jin says, watching in amusement as Yoongi pulls you gently to your feet. He steadies you when you wobble, keeping one of you arms around his shoulder. Feeling his limbs against yours, you yank yourself away as if his skin is made of lava.

“I don't want to talk to you,” you say snottily, wrapping your arms around yourself. Yoongi snorts humorlessly, his eyes widening in disbelief.

“Then why the fuck did you get dropped off here?”

Jin has to stifle his laughter when you genuinely look confused – why did you instruct your taxi driver to take you here? It wasn't because you subconsciously wanted to make up with Yoongi and cuddle him all night. Nope. Absolutely not. No way. You were punishing him with the silent treatment and would continue to do so until he apologized for the things that he had said yesterday.

You hiccup again, your eyes moving toward the taller boy. He's surprised when you shove a finger in his direction. “Jin! I came to hang out with Jin. Jin is my best friend.”

Before Jin can even process what you've said, you have him by the elbow and you're dragging him into the living room, pulling him down to sit next to you on the sofa that Yoongi previously occupied. Yoongi leans against the wall of the entryway, already exhausted of your theatrics.

“So, Jin, how have you been lately? Tell me everything new that's going on!” you exclaim, kicking your leg up over your knee. Yoongi's eyes narrow at the expanse of skin that is suddenly revealed when your skirt shrinks in on itself with the movement.

“Uh,” a panicked Jin throws a worried glance at Yoongi, who motions with his hand and the rolling of his eyes to play along. “I've been … good. Things have been … good. Nothing new going on – just recording music and learning choreography and photoshoots … you know, BTS stuff ...”

You nod your head. “Of course. Sounds hectic.”

There's an uncomfortable silence. The weight of your expectant gaze targeted right at Jin is even more uncomfortable. He clears his throat. “And … yourself?”

By the way you perk up, shoulders squaring and posture suddenly proper, Jin can tell that you clearly didn't give any kind of shit about how he has been or what was new with him. He locks eyes with Yoongi again, both of them realizing what kind of game you were playing.

“I've been just peachy, Jin. Just peachy. I broke up with my neglectful boyfriend yesterday-”

Yoongi scoffs loudly. “We did not break up.”

“As I was saying,” you talk loudly over him with as much sass as you can muster, “I broke up with Yoongi and went to the bar tonight to find myself a new man who will actually remember my birthday and not call me immature for being upset about it.”

“You forgot her birthday?” Jin asks in incredulity, facing the younger boy with wide, disappointed eyes.

“I was only one week off!” Yoongi exclaims defensively. “I thought it was on the 18th instead of the 10th! I even had her present already bought and wrapped!”

“We've been together for three years, you asshat. And we've known each other for even longer than that. It is against the law for you to forget my birthday by now!”

Jin grimaces. “Err … that's not a law, Y/N.”

“Well it should be!”

“And this is why I called her immature. You're hammering the nails right into the coffin, Babe,” Yoongi drawls, shaking his head in amusement at your ridiculousness. The smug look on his face only enrages you further in your intoxicated state.

“And this is why I broke up with you! You are also hammering your -”

“You did not break up with me,” Yoongi interrupts, smirking when he sees your face flush red with anger.

“Shut up!” you screech, grabbing the first solid object that your fingers can reach and whipping it in his direction. Unfortunately for you, it was a stray sock and barely traveled halfway to where Yoongi stood. He stares at the piece of laundry for a few seconds before bursting into loud guffaws. Somewhere between throwing the sock and Yoongi laughing at you, your liquid courage dried up. A sudden wave of humiliation washes over you and you jump to your feet, ignoring the pain when your knee knocks into the coffee table hard as you run past Yoongi into the nearest bathroom.

Jin sighs, grabbing the edge of the coffee table to right it's position. “What I just witnessed was ridiculous. You know that, right? She's drunk. Why are you antagonizing her?”

“She came over here looking for an argument so I indulged her,” Yoongi shrugs. Something about Yoongi's nonchalant attitude sits wrong in Jin's stomach.

“Do you really think she came all the way over here to argue? She got drunk and probably missed you. And whether you'd like to admit it or not, you do owe her an apology for forgetting her birthday. That's kind of messed up.”

Yoongi sighs. “She understands. I forget important dates and anniversaries all the time and she always lets it go. I don't know why she's freaking out this time.”

“Do you ever forget my birthday? Namjoon? Jungkook? Any of the other members? Hell, you even remember to send some of management gift cards on their birthdays. Imagine how that must make her feel, Yoongi. She probably doesn't feel all that important to you.”

Yoongi's eyes fall to the sock on the floor by his feet. Jin was right – of course, he was right. When he forgot your birthday the first year, you were so calm and understanding. Yoongi had panicked and prepared for the worst but you soothed his worries and forgave him with no fuss. When he forgot your anniversary the next year, he could see that you were visibly upset but also let it go with a smile on your face. After that, it became routine. Yoongi didn't think these dates mattered to you all that much so he didn't put forth the effort to remember them. Has he been taking advantage of you and your feelings this entire time?

“You're right,” Yoongi sighs, rubbing the spot between his eyes with his thumb. “I really am an asshat.”

“I know you hate to do cheesy things, but I think you have to just suck it up this time. Go in there and apologize and be nice. And then bring her to bed because she seems on the brink of passing out. I'll make her a sandwich so she isn't so sick tomorrow.”

“Thanks, hyung,” Yoongi pats his elder on the shoulder before padding down the hallway to the first bathroom. He raises his fist to knock but leans his ear to the wood instead when he hears a faint whimpering from the other side. “Y/N? Jagi? Are you okay?”

When there's no answer, Yoongi turns the knob. Surprisingly, it opens. He finds you sprawled across the bathmat next to the shower, wet, mascara-streaked eyes trained on the screen of your phone. There's a faint melody of familiar music playing but he can't place a finger on what it is until you begin singing.

“It leaves me feeling seasick, baby ...” you half-sob, half-sing from your spot on the floor. Yoongi sighs, crouching down next to your body.

“Are you okay? Did you get sick?” he asks, lifting the toilet seat to check. The water is clear as crystal.

“No,” you whimper. The sight of your bottom lip quivering makes Yoongi's chest throb. “But I don't have any kitty cats for Jimin.”

Yoongi's eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“The kitty cats!” you howl, sliding your phone aggressively to where Yoongi is crouched. He's overcome with a mixture of understanding and amusement when he sees the agency page of BTS World running on your phone. “Jimin is so sad but I don't have any kitty cats left to give to him.”

Yoongi hides his chuckles with his hand. Even sloppy drunk with smeared make-up, you still managed to be both infuriating and adorable at the same time. He picks your phone up off of the ground, sliding it into his back pocket before reaching down to gingerly lift you into his arms. Fortunately you don't fight him, choosing to instead wrap both arms around his neck for support. As Yoongi carries you out of the bathroom and into the hallway, you catch sight of Jimin leaving his bedroom.

“Jimin!” you wail. Your mouth is near Yoongi's ear and the volume makes him wince. It startles Jimin, too, who stumbles over his own feet. His eyes are wide as saucers as he stares at you; eyes puffy and red, makeup everywhere except where it should be. What a sight. “I'm so sorry that I couldn't give you the kitty cats. I tried so hard. All they gave me were the stupid flowers. I'm so sorry.”

Jin's laughter is high-pitched and loud from the kitchen. Jimin opens his mouth in confusion but Yoongi shakes his head, jerking his neck forward as if giving permission to carry on. He brings you into his bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him and lowering you softly onto his bed before heading into the bathroom for a damp washcloth. He sits down next to where you lay, dabbing and wiping gently at your ruined makeup.

“I hope you remember this in the morning because I'm terrible at this but … I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm sorry for not being attentive and forgetting so much that is important to you, to us. I'm sorry for being mean when you got upset. And I'm sorry for teasing you tonight. I'll be better, I promise.”

“And I'm sorry for throwing the sock at you. Violence is never the answer.”

A tired, amused smile stretches across your boyfriend's face. “That's right.”

“But Yoongi? Am I important to you?” you mumble pitifully. Yoongi's chest throbs harder.

“Of course you are, Jagi. You are the most important person in my life and I'm sorry for making you feel like you're not. Can you forgive me for being an asshat this whole time?”

You push down the queasiness in your stomach to roll onto your side, reaching out to grab his arm. He understands your motives and lays down next to you, tucking you into his side. You sigh in contentedness. This was what you wanted. This is what you came here for tonight. Yoongi cuddles were the best cuddles and you craved them even when you wanting nothing to do with him.

“I love you so I suppose I can forgive you,” your words are muffled by his shoulder. He chuckles. “Only if you make me something to eat, though.”

“Your best friend is in the kitchen making you a sandwich right now.”

“Oh? Why is she here? Did I bring her with me? Yoongi, she's a terrible cook. Can you ask Jin to make me something instead?”

All Yoongi can do is laugh. He reaches for the edge of the blanket and pulls it up over your body, knowing you enough to be prepared for the sudden slumber that you always fall into after you stop making sense. He watches your eyelids begin to droop.

“Jagi?” he asks, moving a strand of hair from your face. You hum in response. “You said you went to the bar to find a new man … you were joking, right?”

“He wanted to buy me french fries, Yoongi,” you mumble sleepily, your eyes never opening. “But I said no thank you, sir, I have a boyfriend.”

Yoongi's responding laugh is louder than he thought it would be. He slaps his hand over his mouth but the effort is wasted as you have already fallen asleep, your lips parted with soft snores. Still snickering, he leans down to kiss you lightly on the forehead before clicking the lights off and making his way back into the kitchen. Jin is already plating a large sandwich stacked with meats when Yoongi finds him. Jimin sits on a stool at the counter, flipping through the week's schedule.

“Might as well wrap it up and put it in the fridge. She's fallen asleep but I'll make her eat it for breakfast. Thanks, hyung.”

“Did you two work things out? No fighting?”

Yoongi smiles. “We're good. No fighting.”

“I'm really happy that you and Y/N are on good terms again but I have a question,” Jimin chimes in from his seat. Both boys turn to look at him. “What kitty cats and flowers was she talking about?!”

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justkending · 5 years

Text

10 Years Time. Chapter 9.

Series Summary: As princess of Alberia, it is your duty to grow into a rightful young lady if you plan on ruling your family's country. Of course, the only way your father can see this happening is sending you off to a boarding camp at the age of 14 for 10 years to learn what it means to grow into a Queen.That means leaving all your friends and family behind. One specific person, your best friend, you never want to say goodbye to. But 10 years later, you come back grown into a young lady like your father hoped, and find your best friend has grown into a knightly young man. How will you two adjust after 10 years apart? Will things be the same, or will all that’s happened in that span of time affect your relationship?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Stark Daughter Reader

Word Count: 4800+

A/N: And the truth comes out???? Let me know what you think lovelies:)))) I apologize for any errors. I’m tired and didn’t proof read as well as normal. I’ll fix it tomorrow...

Chapter 9:

Previously:

“You didn’t answer my question.” she whispered. “Why did you break your promise?”

She could feel him cringe at the question once more. It was like he was at war with himself on answering it truthfully. Does he risk everything to keep her, or does he say nothing and save her more heartache.

Pulling back just slightly to where he can see her siren-like eyes urging him to tell the truth with their beauty, he still couldn’t do it. He couldn’t ruin her life for his own selfish needs of having her for himself.

“I can’t say sunshine. I can’t say.” he sighed in disappointment at himself.

Y/N just stared up at him. Wide eyes and no expression on what reaction he should expect. He moved his hands down to her forearms to keep her close. Not that she was fighting to get away, but he just got her back it felt like. He couldn’t go through that loss again.

Her eyes looked as if they had glazed over and Steve was looking back and forth between them, searching for any tell on how she was feeling.

It was an antagonizing 30 seconds that felt like an eternity.

“Y/N?” he said in a quiet tone as if he would scare her away. “Sunshine?”

That name seemed to break her from her trance, and she gently pulled out of his arms. He tried to keep her from doing it, but she just stepped back effectively distancing herself from him, but never breaking eye contact. He took hesitant steps back to her.

“Y/N-”

Then her frustration showed. She scoffed and continued to walk backwards. Again, he matched her step trying to not let too much distance come between them.

“I-I-” she said before scoffing again. “I can’t believe this.” she said with an angry smirk. She waved her hand at him and turned back to the punching bag where she had left her coat, and angrily stomped to it.

“Y/N, you have to understand-”

“Understand?” she snapped her head back to him, and marched past him only sending a glare as she did, and an evil laugh. “No, sorry. I don’t.”

She was making her way to the exit and Steve couldn’t let this moment wash over just as fast as it started.

“Wait!” he shouted jogging to her. She didn’t stop though, so he ran faster, and grabbed her arm to turn her around. “You don’t know the whole story-”

“That’s the problem Steve! I don’t know the story, and it crushed me!” she shouted ripping her arm out of his grip, but surprisingly not leaving. Instead, taking stern steps to him and crossing her arms over her chest once she was less than 3 feet of him. “My whole time at that boarding school I wondered. I wondered what the hell was so wrong with me that he didn’t show up. Why the hell was I not good enough? Why did he stand his best friend up after making such a promise?” She began to poke his chest now with each accusation. “Why did he not want to say goodbye one last time before I was shipped off for 10 years time? Was he hurt? Was he disgusted by that kiss? Did he regret everything he ever did with me?” she huffed out of breath from not taking breaths in between questions.

Steve was hurt. Those were things that she thought? How could she even question some of those things? Neither of them noticed, but both had tears threatening to leave. Y/N’s tears not winning the fight as much.

“How-” he sighed. “How could you think I don’t think you were enough?” he said closing the gap and standing over her. “Y/N, you were-” he paused and shook his head. “You are my world. I may have been a stupid young boy when we were growing up and not realized how much of a god sent gift you were, but as time went on, you showed me you were someone I could never live without. You made everyone around you smile. You made everyone feel welcomed, loved, and important. You did outlandish wild things that only a crazy person would do, but somehow only made me envy you for your courage and free-spirit. None of those things kept me from wanting to see you. None of them.”

“Then why? Just answer the question and tell me why.” she said with a slight break in her voice.

He closed his eyes, hanging his head, and grabbed her hands. He shook his head as he sighed again.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you then, and I’m not going to hurt you now,” he answered.

“You not answering it is hurting me now,” she said squeezing his hand to make him look at her. “Tell me. I won’t be mad at you.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” He muttered.

“What?”

He took a big sigh before looking back at her big Y/E/C eyes. That was all it took. It broke him seeing her hurt, and no matter the consequences he needed her to know. She needed to know. To find that inner peace she so long needed. Fuck this secret.

“10 years ago right before dawn, I was getting around to go and meet you.” he started. “It was probably around half an hour before everyone was going to see you off, and I was going to the bakery to go get your favorite treats for the trip. On the way, I was stopped by your father.”

Y/N’s eyes shifted from interest to concern. She was catching on and Steve knew, but he couldn’t stop now.

“He basically told me that he had noticed our relationship blooming. You were taking interest in me in ways you shouldn’t have, and though I may not have seen it at the time, which I hadn’t, I was taking on that same interest.” Y/N’s lips pursed as she processed the story. Her hands gripping his more without her knowing. “As a future knight, I would never be what the kingdom needed. Sure it was a noble position, and my father was greatly appreciated and admired as one himself, but it would never bring the wealth or alliances that we would need down the line to keep the country striving.”

“So he told you to break it off,” she whispered looking down.

“He told me not to show. If I didn’t show you’re heart would be broken and the likelihood of you moving on would be easier,” Steve continued, leaning a little to see her face more. “I told him I couldn’t do that to you, and he said he suspected that would be the case. So he did what he thought was best to protect you.”

Steve’s hands slacked and Y/N could tell the next part was painful for him. So she looked up and brought a hand to his cheek to look at her. He leaned into it and smiled softly at the touch.

“What did he say?” she asked gently.

Another big sigh to calm himself. “He said that he would send me and my family away and ban us from Alberia. Make it to where we would never see each other again and my family would have everything stripped from them.”

Y/N was ready to throw caution to the wind and run and scream at her father right then and there, but Steve still had more to say and she knew he needed her to listen.

“It was either I accepted not meeting you before you left and see you down the road with the chance of hating me or not, or never see you again because we would be threatened if we returned here. I went with the safer option for my family and for the off chance you forgave me,” he finished. “I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. If anything…” she rubbed a thumb along his cheek and he fell into it, closing his eyes relishing in the touch again. “I’m sorry for not considering you weren’t at fault for this. I just wanted you to be wrong for so long just to make it easier... Which was far from reality. It made it so much worse.”

He opened his eyes and moved his hands to her hips pulling her close to him. He grabbed her hand on his face and brought it to his mouth giving it a gently kiss before moving it over his heart.

“Don’t apologize for feeling angry all these years. I did something that brought that pain on you.”

“For good reason. You were protecting your family and our relationship. If you hadn’t made the choice you did, you wouldn’t be here. We wouldn’t be having this conversation, and I wouldn’t be able to hold you again.” she said with a sad smile.

“I really don’t like seeing you hurt sunshine. I kills me.” he said moving some wayward hair out of her face.

“It kills me seeing you hurt too Steve,” she said. She paused straightening her posture. “Because of that, I have to talk to someone.”

“Wait, what?” he asked confused at the change of tone.

She pulled away. Grabbed her coat from the ground, and turned back to the door continuing her march to the castle.

“My father does not get to manipulate my life and think he’s in the right,” she marched turning into her business mode.

“Y/N! You can’t tell him! He’ll kill me!” Steve shouted running toward her and stopping in front of her. Cutting her off from the exit. “That or worse. He’ll ban me like he threatened all those years ago, and I’ll never see you again.”

She felt her heart ache at the fact he thought never seeing you again was worse than death. But she was more in charge than she was all those years ago. Anthony Edward Stark could not walk all over her anymore. She was the future queen of Alberia, and she had a say in her future just as much as she did about the country. Laws could be changed and motions could be made. Change was a thing and she was going to make it.

“Steve, move out of the way. No one is going to hurt you or lay a hand on us.” she said calmly, but it made Steve shiver with the determination behind it.

“He made me promise not to tell. If you tell him, he’ll know.” Steve countered, hands still up ready to block her.

“He’ll only know what I want him to. Anthony Stark has another coming for him.”

“This was another thing I didn’t want to happen. I didn’t want you to ruin your relationship with your father and that’s exactly what’s happening,” Steve groaned in anger at himself.

“Steve. I learned a lot of things at that academy. Fighting for myself and my beliefs was one of them. I won’t let someone play God over me. Not even my father.”

“But Y/N-”

“I’m not fighting you on this any longer. Move out of the way or I will make you.” she threatened. A certain fire in her eye Steve hadn’t seen before.

“I can’t let you-”

But before he could finish the sentence, she made fast moves even he couldn’t comprehend that somehow left him on the ground, and her out the door sprinting to the castle. He quickly recovered, but by the time that he made it outside he couldn’t see where she had gone since the sun was down, there was little to no light was showing.

“Damn it!” he shouted running back inside to grab his clothes before coming out seeing Bucky running to him.

“What the hell happened?” Bucky shouted as he ran to him.

“Too much to explain now, but she knows.” Steve huffed started to run to the castle.

“She knows! You told her!” Bucky shouted excited but also worried. “How did she take it?”

“She’s running to basically cut her father's head off right now if that tells you anything!” Steve said as they ran side by side to the castle where they knew Y/N was headed.

“Shit!” Bucky groaned.

____

“Y/N, what are you doing? Are you ok?” Nat spouted off as she watched Y/N barge through the front castle doors and march through the giant halls. A mission on her mind.

“Y/N, what did you and Steve talk about?” Wanda said coming from the other side as they walked quickly on both sides of her.

“I know,” was all Y/N said with determination in her steps.

Wanda and Nat shared scared looks not sure if this was anger at Steve or anger at her father.

“Y/N, what are you going to do?” Nat asked nervously.

“Have a nice talk with my father.”

“Are you sure you’re in the right mindset for this?” Wanda asked being ever the peacekeeper she was.

“Couldn’t care less what mindset I’m in. Anthony Stark had no right threatening what he did.” she said never breaking her stare from right in front of her.

“Y/N-”

“Follow me or don’t! I’m going to my father, and giving him a piece of my mind.”

“But what if Prince Scott is still there. You don’t want to look bad in front of-”

“I couldn’t give two shits. I just hope for both of our sakes he isn’t here because he’s about to hear some fowl words come out of a ladies mouth, and I’m not going to attempt to stop them,” Y/N growled.

Before the two ladies could try and stop Y/N from making anymore rash decisions, she quickened her pace and made it to the throne room where she had last seen her father.

Lucky for him, he was only accompanied by Pepper and some guards. After Prince Scott announced he had to head home before dark, Tony called Pepper in to try and figure out a way to talk to Y/N about all of it. Seeing that she was taken aback and hurt from the last talk. Little did he know the rage she had now was directed toward something else that he never expected to come up again.

“Anthony Stark!” Y/N shouted her fathers name as she stomped in the room still in her training pants and shirt.

He shot his head away from Pepper who had a confused look on her, but as soon as she saw the anger in Y/N face it turned to concern. Tony’s expression turned to astonishment at her calling him by his first name and was already frustrated with her about her reaction earlier with a prince present.

“Y/N Marie. What do you think you’re-” he started turning his body to her and straightening.

“You threatened him?” she said leaving no room for lead up to the conversation. She was fuming and she wanted answers. No time for beating around the bush.

“Threatened?” Tony said confused now. “Threatened who?” he scoffed.

The two hotheads of the kingdom were in one room, and both not in good moods. This was going to be interesting. Pepper, Nat, and Wanda all stayed in a group together at a distance as they watched the interaction. Nat shared a look with the Queen sharing that Y/N had indeed found out about her father's actions all those years ago. Pepper let out a saddened sigh knowing that one day this would come and Tony would pay for his actions.

“You know exactly who I’m talking about. Don’t try and play dumb oh righteous King!” she sassed.

“Now you watch how you speak to me young lady! I will not have you-”

“No! Don’t start that whole acting as if I’m 14 again and you’re going to send me to my room if I speak up. You ruined my life, my childhood, and broke my heart! You’re going to hear my side of the story!” she said pointing a finger at him which he looked down at and furrowed his eyebrows before looking to her.

“What are you talking about Y/N? What the hell has gotten into you?” he said in a dangerously low and serious voice.

He knew deep down what she was talking about, but he was hoping playing dumb for the time being would maybe save him some time.

“Don’t play coy Tony! Take responsibility for your actions like a King should!” she said still pointing a finger getting extremely close to him.

“Listen here young lady-” Tony started taking a step to her to where they were practically chest to chest and he was looking down at her, but she kept her chin raised in determination.

But before he could finish his sentence, and continue to scold his daughter for speaking to him the way she was, the doors opened revealing an out of breath Steve and Bucky.

Steve instantly made eye contact with Y/N and saw from the anger she was radiating that she had probably already told Tony everything. He quickly changed his eyes to Tony to gage his thoughts, but Tony was squinting at him as he caught on.

“You.” Tony hissed. “You told her.” he said taking steps to the knight who straightened up ready for his punishment and also in defense, but Y/N stopped the King stepping in front of him and blocking him from Steve.

“No. This is between you and me.” She said with fire in her eyes.

Tony looked down at her, and then back to Steve who was scared shitless as to what was to come. Bucky taking a protective step toward his friend and standing by his side.

“You had no right-” Tony started at Steve again.

“Hey! Yes he did.” Y/N interrupted. “If anyone here had no right, it was you.” she said hands going to her side and bringing her father's attention back to her. Her anger semi-going down and turning to sadness. “How could you? How could you hurt me like that?” she breathed out.

“I didn’t do it to hurt you. I did it to protect you.” he said still stone faced. He looked back at Steve with fury in his eyes, but still talking to his daughter. “You were never supposed to find out.”

“Look at me when you’re talking to me. This discussion is between you and me.” Y/N said waving her hand in front of him. He did as told, and finally saw the pain and hurt from all these years on her face. How had he not seen it before? He softened at it. His shoulders slacking some. “Why? Just tell me why?” she said now with her voice lightly breaking no matter how hard she tried pushing the lump in her throat down.

“I-I-” Tony stuttered seeing as if for the first time he had realized his actions had consequences he never thought about. “I was trying to protect you and the kingdom.”

“From what? Cause I’m pretty sure there was more damage doing what you did than what you had in mind.” Y/N said bitterly but still with a broken voice.

Tony let out a long sigh and ran a hand through his beard as he looked at the ground. When he finally looked up, he saw that he had more of an audience for this conversation than he would have liked.

“Can we have some privacy please?” he groaned.

Everyone quickly looked to the ground and nodded. Nat, Wanda, and Pepper the first ones out, but Pepper quickly gave him a kiss on the cheek and whispered something only he could hear. He nodded and she made her way out with the other ladies.

“Steve come on.” Bucky whispered grabbing the knights shoulder.

Steve couldn’t keep his eyes off of Y/N though, and didn’t want to leave her to fend for herself. Sure she could handle herself, but that didn’t mean she had to. He was the reason this whole thing was going down. He should stand by her side.

Just as he went to take a step closer to them, he saw the look on her face. She sent him a sad, but reassuring smile. She mouthed, “I got this.” and sent him a single nod. Still he was hesitant. “Roof.” she mouthed now.

Steve shook his head saying he would stay. She shook hers back waving him to go.

“Come one Steve. She’s got this. Let them figure it out.” Bucky said putting a tighter grip on him.

Against everything in his body, he relented and stepped back. He walked out backwards not wanting to take his eyes off of her. Then the doors shut, and he was left on the other side with no idea of what was to come.

Y/N let out a big sigh looking at the closed doors that left her and her father by themselves. Slowly she turned back to him seeing him looking at the same doors, but for other reasons.

“It wasn’t his right to tell.” he muttered.

“No, but it was his story to tell.” Y/N retaliated. “How could you do this dad? How could take someone so near and dear to me and threaten them the way you did?” she crossed her arms looking at him. Still angry, but more just wanting answers at this point and tired of the deflection.

“I thought I was protecting you.” he repeated what he said earlier.

“And look where that got me. Heartbroken, hurt, and searching for answers all these years.” she paused running a hand through her braid that was falling out all over the place. “Do you know how many nights I cried myself to sleep? I thought I was worthless. Nothing. I thought he left me and broke his promise because I was just something he was supposed to protect and not someone that he actually cared about. You know how much that hurt? It physically hurt so much dad. So much.” she trembled out a tear escaping.

“Bug…” Tony said leaning forward and closing his arms around her. He knew she was upset and probably didn’t want to be close to him, but he couldn’t let her cry without being in his arms. “I know it hurts, but you two were getting too close. It wouldn’t have ended well either way. I thought this way you would have more time to grow and heal.”

She broke down now. She fell into his arm, wrapping herself into him, and just let all the frustration and repressed tears come out. She wanted to hate him. She wanted to show him and make him feel just as bad as she had, but that wasn’t her ways. She wasn’t a vengeful person. She was a forgiving person. This wound just happened to be one that would take some time to heal and fully forgive.

They stayed like that for a while. Tony smoothing down her hair as she cried into his chest. He rested his head on hers, and shushed her when her cries got loud and held her still even when they became sniffles.

Eventually she pulled away. She wiped her nose with her sleeve like she was 14 again on the roof of her room. Tony took the pad of his thumb and wiped the tears. Knowing her voice would still shake if she spoke, he decided to speak first.

“Steve and you were best friends. I loved that and I was happy that you were, considering he would be your guard the rest of your life. You don’t want to hate the person who’s sworn to protect you. There wouldn’t be any trust,” he explained as they looked into each others eyes. “But as you got older, I noticed that it went from friendly banter, to flirtatious quips and contact. On your side at first.” Y/N let out a small laugh remembering when she too realized her crush on the blonde young boy. “But as you got older, and became more of your own person, there were times I could see Steve leaning more into the crush stage. He fawned over you without knowing he was doing it, and you could see the admiration in his eyes.”

Tony wiped away another stray tear before placing his hands on her shoulders and steadying her. He bent slightly to her level.

“It was dangerous you two falling for one another. You were meant to be married off as a Queen, and he was meant to run the kingdoms army. There’s nothing in the way things work that would have been in your favor,” Tony said saddened by the truth. “I hate seeing you sad bug. When Steven came up with your name of Sunshine I laughed because of how accurate it was. You were always so happy, carefree, and a ray of light for others. Seeing that light dim when you got in the carriage to leave all those years ago broke me a little. I was close to losing it then, but had to remind myself that it was for a reason.”

“A stupid reason,” Y/N muttered.

“A valid reason,” he laughed at her childish answer. “Y/N, you know your duties to this kingdom, and I know you’re a hopeless romantic and would love to be in love before marriage, but sometimes that’s not how it works.” he sighed.

“You and mom loved each other before you got married. Why can’t I have that?”

“Your mother and I were still apart of an arranged marriage. We didn’t know each other well before hand, but as we grew and learned more of the other, it was hard to not fall for her.” Tony sighed thinking back to his late wife. “You have to give Scott a chance. You have to get to know him. Have to give him a chance if you want to fall in love. Know that I would never choose someone for you that I imagine you not being happy with,” he said tilting her chin up to him.

“But I’ve already chose someone to make me happy,” Y/N said broken.

“I know. I’m sorry that it ended up forming that way, bug.”

“I’m not.” she sniffled.

“No, I know your not, but you also know how much more it’s going to hurt having to move on,” he said speaking truth that made her sniffle more. “Hey. I can’t fathom seeing you like this.”

“Then help me fix it.” she mumbled. “We can change-”

“Don’t go rogue on me Y/N.” he said more sternly. “There are reasons behind why we do what we do. I’m not arguing you on that anymore.” she sniffled knowing he was right, and the sound made him un-tense again. “How about you take a day to yourself tomorrow? You’ve been working nonstop since you’ve been home, and you deserve a day of relaxation.”

“I can’t just take a day-”

“You can and you will. Kings order. You can’t say no to that. Not even as a princess,” he cut her off. “You’re tired and you’ve taken on a lot of information. You need to rest my dear.” Tony said deciding that any more of the conversation would just lead to more tears and fighting. She was exhausted. He could see it. The adrenaline from the past activities all from today were finally wearing off, and physically, emotionally, and mentally she was worn out. “We can discuss this more when you’ve had a full nights rest.”

“I have more to say though.” she argued wiping her face and trying to put on a stronger face.

“I’m sure you do, but you’ll pass out standing up if you argue anymore.”

“But-”

“For once Y/N. Leave the stubborn ass your mother gave you at the door. We really can finish this tomorrow.” he said as he walked her to the door. “Natasha, Wanda. Take her to her room, and get her ready for bed. She’s getting a rest day tomorrow. Let her sleep in and spend it how she likes. Just no working or royal business ok?”

“Yes, your highness.” Nat and Wanda said taking Y/N from his arms.

The princess turned back to her father looking at him over her shoulder.

“This isn’t over. I’m still not happy.” she said, but Tony knew that they were on better terms that she was leading on.

“I know. We’ll get you to a 100% soon. Rest bug.” he waved off.

With a frown she turned back around, and leaned on her handmaidens for help.

Slowly they made their way back to her room.

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codedredalert · 4 years

Text

and in freedom, we find

drakelaw || oneshot || 1907 words

A month after Drake leaves the marines, Trafalgar Law comes asking questions.

Warnings: alcohol, enemy lovers with petty antagonism as flirting, bad jokes

A/N: for @noswordstyle and @rocketspurs, thanks for your contributions to the lawkins cause. thanks @narramin for being the funniest beta ever.

(On Ao3.)

===/\===

The booze Drake first learned to drink as a marine was cheap as dirt and startlingly similar to lighter fluid. Yet, somehow, the kinds of places that were willing to serve wanted men had even shittier booze, for ten times the price. That had to be a crime of some sort.

It did the job though. The world was muted, and there was a slight ringing in his ears, along with heat radiating from his face. Everything was pleasantly numb. The drink took away the pressure of his huge undertaking and the isolation from his brother marines. It had been a full month since his staged dishonourable discharge and effective exile, he was allowed to be a little homesick. He was…

A touch called his attention.

There was a hand gripping his arm, over his sleeve. Drake stared at it, stared at the tattoos across the fingers, black ink on dark skin in a dimly lit bar. He blinked and the letters came into focus, D E A T— the thumb wrapped under, he couldn't see the last letter.

He blinked again, followed the curve of the long fingers up to a faded yellow sleeve, and further up to a familiar face, with an almost friendly smile.

"That stuff will take your eyes out, if you keep drinking it," said Trafalgar Law, Surgeon of Death.

Drake jerked away, too slow. He reached up for his axe handle, feeling like he was moving through water. Trafalgar moved faster, and there was a flicker of blue before the strap of his axe holster split, cut with clean precision and it fell to the ground with a loud thud. Drake cursed and tried to dive for it, but Trafalgar was in the way, and there was only yellow, yellow and a grinning jolly roger swallowing up his entire field of vision.

Those hands appeared again, uncomfortably close to Drake's face. There was the tell-tale sound of a shotgun being cocked somewhere behind him. Even comfortably drunk, Drake could tell this was Not Good.

Drake froze.

"The owner is about to shoot us, commodore-ya," warned Trafalgar. "Turn slowly."

Drake looked straight into the double barrel of a sawed off shotgun. He looked past it to the decidedly grizzled old lady who ran the bar. She was built like a bear.

"If ya gonna fight, pay up, an' get out," she ordered with the dead monotone of an employee who has been with an establishment for too long and was not paid enough for this bullshit.

"We’re just talking," Trafalgar assured her, and his hand was on Drake’s shoulder again.

Bullshit, thought Drake. He’d cleave Trafalgar in two if he only had his damn axe. Between the shotgun and Trafalgar Law, Drake knew who he'd rather keep his eyes on.

He turned back to look at Trafalgar, whose nasty little smile hadn't budged an inch.

"I don't dislike a turncoat, commodore-ya," said Trafalgar, voice smooth and slow and disturbingly comforting. "I'd buy you a drink but the methanol in what they sell here could quite literally blind you."

"Why are you here?" Drake heard himself say before his brain had quite finished processing the words and the oddly nice tone behind them. "Why me?"

Trafalgar laughed, face turned up slightly. The light hit his face where it wasn't obscured by his hat. In that split second, he looked like a decent person, and Drake could almost forget this was the face of a murderer.

"Why me," Trafalgar repeated, something heavy and suddenly tired in his tone despite the upward corners of his mouth. "Good one. Let me know if you ever get the answer to that."

There was a long pause. Trafalgar realised he still had his hand on Drake's shoulder and removed it. Drake sat back heavily on the bar stool.

"What d'you want," complained Drake. "'M not chasing you anymore, and you come find me? Stupid crazy pirate."

Trafalgar took the seat beside Drake without being invited to sit, and he focused on Drake, as if trying to see into him and take him apart.

"You loved the marines. Like family, you said. They raised you. So I came to find out— what was your offence, that they'd burn you like this? What was their offence, that a loyal fool like you would do anything that would scare them into this? I thought—" Trafalgar broke his sentence for a small, dark laugh, an aside to himself. "I thought maybe there's hope for the clever commodore-ya after all."

There was a hint of sympathy there, though Drake had the unmistakable impression that Trafalgar was laughing at least a little bit at his expense. Still, the little spiel gave Drake pause.

"You sound like—" Drake frowned and stopped as the thought slipped away from him. Trafalgar leaned forward, interested.

"I sound like?" he prompted, head tilted slightly.

"...you care."

It wasn't the most eloquent or delicate way to put it. And there was no immediate reply from Trafalgar.

Drake blinked away the alcoholic haze and leaned down slightly to see under the brim of the hat. Trafalgar's mirth had dropped completely. His expression was altogether more restrained, and full of hate. Hate wasn't a wild thing, it focused like a blade, and it sharpened every bone in Trafalgar's body. What was it that Trafalgar hated so much anyway? And did he know it made him even more desirable? Oceans blue, as if the man wasn't pretty enough just wild and angry and mad, he had to have a civilised side too.

"Thanks." That was definitely amusement returning to Trafalgar's voice. The nasty little smile was back.

Oh, shit. He'd said that out loud?

"More mumbled than said, but yes."

"Fuck you, Trafalgar," Drake hissed. He glanced at the bar but the bartender had already cleared his almost-full glass.

"If you're offering…"

Drake paused, the unexpected response startling him. Almost involuntarily, he looked at the man right in front of him. The heavy material of Trafalgar's hoodie folded in against his body where he held his longsword in the crook of his arm, suggesting a thin waist. Signature fitted jeans advertised long legs, spread where he straddled the bar stool. Small wrists, Drake could fit both in one hand and pin them above Trafalgar's head easily. He made very sure not to say that aloud but he could feel heat rush to his face and… elsewhere.

"Well. One head of yours seems to have voted yes."

Drake swore and looked down in alarm and back up to Trafalgar. The asshole was grinning openly now, smug.

"I don't have to stand for this," Drake declared, standing. The floor heaved under him and he found himself clinging to the bar counter. There was a hand on his arm, holding him up. Despite its thin elegance, there was strength in the grip.

"Commodore-ya, it looks like you can't stand at all," gloated Trafalgar.

Drake glared at him.

"I. Can." He wrenched his arm out of Trafalgar's grip. The floor pitched again like a ship in a storm and he found himself chest to chest with Trafalgar, clinging to the smaller man to keep upright.

"Do you want my help?" asked Trafalgar. From this close, his eyes were true gold instead of the strange grey-hazel of his file photo or the dead slate-white of his wanted poster.

"No!"

Trafalgar shrugged. Drake could feel the movement of it where their bodies pressed against each other, but any effort to push Trafalgar away was like trying to fight gravity.

"I could sober you up," Trafalgar offered again, lowly. "With… you know."

The fucking Ope-Ope. Yeah, Drake knew.

"No," he growled, and tried to push away again. Failed.

"Do you want to get shivved right out the door?" argued Trafalgar. He was doing that thing again in his voice, that small tweak in his tone where it almost sounded like he cared. Tricky bastard. "Be sensible, commodore-ya. Better the enemy you know."

… he's dangerous. Even if he played nice now, that hasn't stopped being true. A blight upon the North Blue and the Surgeon of Death, a madman who grinned in a suspended whirlwind of dismembered soldiers.

"I… No.”

"Fine," sighed Trafalgar. "I'll just get you somewhere safer. You can thank me once you're sober."

He leaned Drake against the counter and retrieved the fallen axe. He put the strap over Drake's chest again, and another pale blue flash joined the seams of the strap back as if they'd never been cut.

"I should truss you up and leave you out there for them," muttered Drake as Trafalgar pulled Drake's weight away from the counter. The axe made his balance better, and the weight of it was comforting on his back.

"You like your old friends in the marines that much?" asked Trafalgar as they walked out of the bar. The midnight chill hit Drake like a bucket of ice, sobering as it stripped the heat from his face.

What's it to you, Drake wanted to ask, but the cold wind snatched his words away.

"You sure are a good dog, aren't you," Trafalgar continued. "Abandoned on the street in winter but still whimpering for your master. Stupid marines. You all never think."

Trafalgar nudged them into an alleyway, out of the wind. Drake stumbled over something in the shadows, and Trafalgar pivoted them so they wouldn't fall. Drake's axe clanged against the brick wall.

A thin hand settled against the bare skin of Drake's chest where the cut of his shirt opened. Trafalgar's fingers were cold against Drake's burning skin, even colder than the wind somehow. So cold they burned right through to Drake's lungs and left him breathless.

"Don't like the cold, commodore-ya?" teased Trafalgar. His icy cold touch dragged even further down Drake's chest, and Drake's lungs squeezed out the last bit of air he didn't even know he still had.

Trafalgar took Drake's hand and placed it on his waist. The hoodie fabric gave in further than expected. Damn, his waist was small, just as Drake had guessed. He really should remove his hand, but he doesn’t.

"Why are you doing this?" he murmured. His other hand reached for Trafalgar of its own volition, gloved fingers curling into the hood. The weight of it pulled at the fabric and exposed a little more of Trafalgar’s neck. He drew Trafalgar flush against him.

"No reason." Trafalgar paused, tilting his head as he re-thought his answer. He shrugged and pressed forward. The hand on his waist slipped down to his hip. "Though you should know, it's one of the benefits of leaving."

"What benefits?" The obvious one when he had his hand on someone's ass echoed in his head. "Sex?"

"Freedom," breathed Trafalgar. His breath formed a pale mist, and he said the word with almost-reverence. For a long moment, his expression was the gentlest Drake had ever seen it, then it sharpened back to smug. "But that too. If you want."

"Freedom?" asked Drake incredulously. What freedom could there be for a wanted man, unable to go anywhere without the ever-present threat of pursuit and arrest? What freedom could there be with murders on your conscience? What freedom could Trafalgar Law possibly have to preach to him?

Trafalgar just laughed, a bit too much teeth and white in his eyes.

"Yeah. Welcome to freedom," he said, and his cold hands pulled Drake’s face in for a kiss.

===/END\===

(On Ao3.)

#drakelaw #x drake #trafalgar law #one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #opfanfic #op fanfiction #op fanfic #op #my writing #mine #for friends #i know he was a rear admiral but commodore ya is cuter okay dont come for me #im just gonna post and see if i regret this in the morning #alcohol

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