#BUT IVE ALWAYS BEEN A GRAVITY FALLS KID AT HEART | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fruitcoops · 3 years ago

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hi <3 i hope you’re well and having a beautiful day so far. i was wondering if you could write a fic about sirius or logan’s brother like relationship to adele - for example, how they would approach her when she’s having a bad day or when she needs advice about something or maybe even after a disagreement with her parents. no worries if you can’t, i just thought it would be a wholesome interaction 💕

Oh, for sure! Katie and Logan get so much attention (for good reason--they're adorable), but I like to think of Sirius and Adele as the blueprint. Hope you enjoy! Combined with asks for Logan and Loops friendship, Papa Dumo (for @ jinxedjaz), Sirius coming back from visiting his parents while living with the Dumais, and Sirius-learning-to-people from this hc list. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

A little hand tugged on the hem of Dumo’s sweater. “Papa?”

He glanced up from his crossword and smiled, turning to lift Adele into his lap. “Bonjour, mon papillon. Do you want to help me?”

“Is Sirius okay?”

Dumo paused. His first instinct was to lie—how could he even begin to explain the complexity of the situation to a seven-year-old?—but the brightness in Adele’s big eyes told him she already knew the answer. She was a smart kid. She deserved to know at least some of the truth. “He’s having a tough day,” Dumo said quietly as dishes clinked in the other room. No matter what he and Celeste tried, Sirius insisted on washing up. “He’ll be alright.”

A little furrow appeared between Adele’s eyebrows. “Is it because of us? Because he misses his family now?”

“No, sweetheart, not at all. He just…” The words were impossible to find. “He just doesn’t like holidays very much.”

She worried her lower lip for a moment before wiggling free of his arms. “I’m going to make him feel better.”

“Adele—” Dumo made a grab for her, but she had already scampered out of reach and around the corner to the kitchen. In the three days since Sirius had come back from Thanksgiving, he had already reverted back to his shut-down ghost of a self.

“Excuse me, please,” Adele announced. The sink shut off. “Are you sad?”

That’s certainly one way to do it. Dumo craned his neck to watch their reflections in the glass of the back door without revealing his position. Sirius was always more comfortable around the kids than himself and Celeste. “Quoi?” Sirius asked, turning to face her.

“Are you sad? You’ve been frowny.”

Silence fell for a few seconds. “Ouais, a little,” he said at last. “But I’m not sad because of you.”

“That’s good. Papa said so, too. He says you don’t like holidays, but that’s so silly, because we were just talking about Christmas last week.”

“I like some holidays,” Sirius said haltingly. There was a rustling noise; Dumo saw him pick Adele up and settle her on his hip with a thoughtful tilt to his head. “I’m very excited to spend Christmas with you.”

“Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear.”

“Good. I want you to spend all the holidays with us. Will you be frowny on Christmas, too?”

“I don’t think so.” Dumo could practically hear Sirius’ smile. “See? I’m already better.”

“Will you open presents with me? Marc and Louis always open theirs together, and Mama and Papa, but Katie’s too little to do it with me. I like playing Santa, but it means I hafta go last.”

In the glass, Dumo saw Sirius press a raspberry kiss to her cheek until she burst into giggles; his grin lit up the whole kitchen. “Of course I will.”

“You have to smile,” Adele groaned. “You’re scaring off all my customers.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Pardon?”

She turned a big, sunshine grin on him, pressing her fingers into her dimples to exaggerate it. “Big smiles! You like being here! These are the best cookies you’ve ever had! Everyone should try them!”

“They should!” Sirius agreed. “I don’t know why you’re upset!”

She heaved a sigh and clonked her forehead on his stomach, knocking some of the air out of his lungs. “You look scary when you don’t smile.”

“I do not.”

“You do! You’re built like a brick wall and when you’re thinking, you get frowny!” She adjusted her Girl Scout vest and straightened up. “You have to be perky and fun and the cutest little kid on the block.”

“…I might have a problem with the last part.”

“Then I’ll be the cutest little kid on the block,” she said, exasperated.

Sirius narrowed his eyes at her. “Do you think I’m scary?”

“No,” she snorted. “But other people do.”

“No way.”

“Yes, way. Mama looks surprised when her face relaxes, but you’re, like, looming.”

“So…you’re upset with how my face looks?” he teased, dodging her attempt to poke his ribs.

“No, I just don’t need a bodyguard to sell cookies!”

“That’s literally what I’m here for,” he laughed, tugging one of her pigtails until she stuck her tongue out at him. “Alright, madame, I’ll try to be ‘perky’ and ‘fun’.”

“The air quotes weren’t necessary,” she informed him with great gravity, though she couldn’t hide the smile on her face as she turned back to the people walking across the street. “Hey, lady, do you want cookies?”

III

“So,” Logan began, then shoved another handful of pretzel sticks into his mouth. “Dating the captain. What’s that like?”

Sirius looked up from his phone and glared. “I am sitting right next to you.”

“Shush. Loops?”

Remus sighed and let his head fall toward Logan’s armchair; he was starting to get lightheaded from laying upside-down for so long, but it was doing wonders for his lower back and sore feet. “Dating the captain? Pretty cool, to be honest.”

Logan made a noise of disagreement. “I don’t believe that for a second. Does he make you run drills in the basement, or is it just a cuddle party all the time? ‘cause there’s no in-between.”

“Tabarnak,” Sirius muttered, flicking Logan’s ear as he headed out of the room. “You two gossip like middle-schoolers.”

“It’s really not bad,” Remus mused as he stretched one leg toward the curtains. “I’m the one who likes running drills, so he’ll usually watch tape while I do that for a bit. Cuddles aren’t as frequent as you might think. We’re boring.”

“Mmm, with some wild nights in there, eh?” Logan wiggled his eyebrows and Remus chucked a pillow at him, though it did not seem to deter him. “I seem to remember hearing a certain conversation about a new bedframe?”

“A headboard,” Remus corrected, pulling a face at him. “And it was already almost ten years old. You’re just jealous.”

“Ugh, for him? Nah. Peanut might have carried a torch—”

“You’re kidding. Did he really?”

“Oh, yeah,” Logan snorted, as if it was obvious. “But he has better taste now. Honestly, though, I’m glad you two are together. And that you’re happy in your boring domesticity, even if you’re breaking beds left and right.”

“Headboard, and it was one time.”

“Did I ever tell you about—”

The front door slammed open; both of them jumped as something heavy hit the ground with a thud. “Sweetheart?” Celeste asked from the living room, audibly concerned. Remus’ heart dropped and he shared a worried look with Logan, who was already on his feet. “Adele, what’s wrong?”

“Adele?” Logan called, his voice laced with worry. Remus’ heartbeat picked up as Adele appeared in the doorway to the living room with tears streaming down her cheeks, only to throw herself into Logan’s arms with a harsh sob. “Woah, hey, qu’est—”

“Boys are so stupid!” she half-shouted, half-wailed. “And I hate them!”

Remus stood there, useless, as she tore away and sprinted for the backyard, yanking the door shut with a bang before tearing across the grass. “Logan?” he asked after a moment. There was no protocol for this. He had absolutely zero experience with preteen breakdowns, and the Dumais kids always fell into Logan and Sirius’ territory. He could count on one hand the number of actual conversations he had had with Adele.

Logan’s nose twitched; he opened his mouth to speak, but the words died in his throat when Sirius came through the doorway and made a beeline for the yard without a single glance to either of them. “She’ll be okay,” Logan murmured as Sirius walked slowly to the swings, where Adele was sitting on the bench seat with her arms wrapped tight around herself.

“She seems pretty upset.”

Logan shook his head, not taking his eyes off the pair. “I’ve got Katie, he’s got Adele.”

“Yeah?” Remus asked, surprised. Logan and Katie were famous for their bond, two peas in a pod. As far as he knew, Sirius was equally close with all the Dumais kids.

“Apparently, they bonded from day one,” Logan said with the flicker of a smile. Outside, Adele laid her head on Sirius’ shoulder and pulled his arm around her back, burrowing into the softness of his hoodie as he gently rocked the swing with his foot and gave her a light squeeze. “They’re both quieter. Oldest children and all that. You really didn’t know?”

“I…” Remus trailed off and shook his head. “You and Katie are much louder about it, but that makes sense. He talks about all of you all the time., I guess I just assumed it was different since he was so closed off at first.”

Logan hummed. “Ask about it sometime. Dumo always likes talking about them.”

Sirius and Adele walked back after a few more minutes, still attached at the hip as Sirius jostled her lightly and pulled half a smile from her; they entered the house in relative quiet and Adele wrapped her arms around him one more time. “Love you,” she said, voice muffled in his sweater. Sirius rubbed her back in slow circles until she pulled away and padded down the hall to the bathroom

“Children are so mean,” he said as soon as the door closed.

“Then I’m glad she has you.” Remus curled his hand around Sirius’ shoulder and felt him relax beneath his touch. “Is she alright?”

“Some little asshole told her nobody would want to date her because she plays hockey.”

Remus’ heart panged. “How can we help?”

“Teach her how to throw a right hook,” Logan suggested. In a rare turn of events, Remus couldn’t tell whether he was joking or not; from the look on his face, it seemed to be the latter.

“She’ll be okay, baby,” Remus said. Sirius didn’t look away from the closed door. “Kids have always been mean, but the best thing you can do is be there for her, which you just did. It’s hard and it sucks but as long as she knows you love her, that’s enough.”

“Does she?” Sirius asked, almost too quiet for him to hear.

Remus looped an arm around his waist and kissed the top of his shoulder. “She does,” he promised. Without a doubt.

Sirius drummed his hands on the steering wheel with a wide smile. “I’m so excited,” he said for the fourth time in twenty minutes.

“I can tell,” Remus said, still reading through his missed messages. The cell service in customs had been abysmal, and for some godforsaken reason his dad desperately needed to send paragraph updates on his hunt for the perfect holiday lights. Some days, Remus wondered whether he was happiest with his family or in Home Depot.

“I missed them.”

“Yep.”

“And I can’t let Logan get there first.”

“Sure thing, honey. Speed limit.”

“Three weeks is a long time, did you know that?”

“Mhmm. Sirius, speed limit.”

“How do you manage being away from Jules for that long?”

“Very poorly,” Remus said as he typed out a quick response to his dad’s latest text. His mother would end him if he allowed their house to be decorated with anything green—in all honesty, he was starting to think she had a personal rivalry with the Snakes. They turned onto Dumo’s street and he felt the excitement radiating off Sirius kick up several notches. “Deep breaths, love.”

“Ah, fuck me, the cubs are right behind us,” he muttered, pulling over to the curb and unbuckling his seatbelt.

“Sirius!” Remus spluttered.

“What?”

“Turn the fucking car off before you get out!”

Sirius heaved a sigh and pulled the key out, then took off toward the house at a jog; Logan went sprinting past the passenger window half a second later, and Remus heard Finn shouting after him from the still-running car to no avail. They reached the front steps at the exact same time, shouldering each other in an attempt to reach the doorbell first.

“—want to push it!” Logan insisted, kicking Sirius lightly on the shin as Remus headed up the walkway.

“You did it last time!” Sirius argued.

“I’m the youngest, so I get to do it!”

“That’s not how it works!”

The door swung open just as Logan tried to bodily shove Sirius out of the way, only to be put in a scrambling headlock. Dumo regarded them with an exhausted look on his face. “Bonjour, Loops.”

“Hey, Dumo,” Remus called from the base of the steps. “Nice night, eh?”

He shrugged, ignoring the two grown men roughhousing on his welcome mat. “Not bad.”

“Are les enfants here?” Logan panted, trying to heave Sirius into the nearest hedge.

Dumo rolled his eyes and opened the door the rest of the way. “Kids, we have visitors!”

Thundering footsteps echoed off the walls; Logan and Sirius tripped over each other in their haste to get inside. “Tremzy!” Katie shrieked, launching herself into his arms with a beaming smile.

Sirius hoisted Adele straight off her feet and shook her back and forth as she wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug. “You were gone forever!” she laughed. “We missed you!”

“What am I, chopped liver?” Logan teased as he set Katie down and opened his arms for a hug of his own. Marc and Louis slammed into him, nearly toppling him in the entryway.

“No, no, no!” Katie giggled as Sirius blew a raspberry kiss on her stomach, only to mimic it on his cheek a moment later. “You’re all scratchy.”

“Tough for kisses,” Remus agreed. “You should tell him to shave, Katie-bird.”

Katie squished his cheeks in her hands with a solemn frown. “No more porcupines.”

“You got it,” Sirius confirmed. “What do you think, Adele?”

She pulled a face and they all dissolved into laughter, exhausted from the long roadie and unable to contain their happiness. It was a tradition Remus was coming to know as he spent more time with the team—Logan and Sirius just couldn’t resist swinging by the Dumais house after a long trip, no matter how drained and battered they were. It was a combination of a competition and a family reunion, and the kids loved it every time.

“Are you staying the night?” Marc asked, lazily tying Sirius’ shoelaces together.

“Not tonight, no.”

“But it would be fun,” Louis said from his place hoisted under Logan’s arm, legs dangling.

“They’re tired, boys, be nice.” Celeste winked at Sirius as he leaned down so she could kiss his cheek before moving to Logan to do the same. “We watched all your games. You were wonderful.”

“Merci, Celeste.” The corners of Logan’s eyes crinkled, and Remus saw Finn and Leo share a smile behind him.

Sirius craned his neck to look back. “Oh, she wasn’t talking to you.”

Logan stuck his tongue out as the kids laughed, still clinging to them both. Remus happily accepted a quick hug and a hair-ruffle from Celeste before she moved on to Finn and Leo, and settled in for a cozy evening at home.

#sirius black #remus lupin #adele dumais #logan tremblay #pascal dumais #celeste dumais #coops #katie dumais #friendship #siblings #sweater weather #vaincre #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic

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slippinmickeys · 4 years ago

Text

Five Seconds (8/8)

If you’d like to read this work in its entirety, you may do so here.

October 24, 2018

Scully was half-elated, half terrified when her children escaped from the cabin and their captor. It removed them from harm’s way, but gave the mercenary who held them a sole focus -- herself and the child she carried, and Mulder.

Luis seemed to be even more amped up by their escape, checking his watch and trying his phone twice as often. When she rose and requested a drink of water, the man stood so quickly from the chair he sat in that it fell backwards to the floor.

He stood, twitchy and suspicious, looked at her a moment and then nodded tersely. She turned to go into the kitchen when a powerful force seized her and she stumbled, grabbing onto the back of Mulder’s chair.

“Scully!” he said, alarmed. He rose and moved to her side as the gunman watched them, tense but otherwise expressionless.

The pain wrapped around her middle and went all the way to her back. She’d experienced back labor during her labor with William and remembered the agonizing sensation. This was the real thing.

“Mulder,” she whispered, dragging her eyes up to him. She saw realization dawn on him, saw the mix of tender excitement and abject fear.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispered, tilting his head to the side to look at her. They rarely used pet names for each other, but the sound of those words on his lips made her stalwart exterior crumple. Tears fell from her eyes. She looked at him and tried to tell him silently all the things he’d ever meant to her, and all the things he ever would.

XxXxXxXxXxX

“Here’s how it’s going to work,” the man said, to Lily. “We are going to unload the ATVs off of the trailer. We are going to drive them to the camp where your family is staying. You will be on one, your brother and I will be on the other. I will have a gun to your brother’s head the entire time. You try anything, I shoot him. He tries anything, I shoot him.”

Lily nodded, and she could hear Will swallow with some difficulty next to her. “My colleague at the camp… Is he alive?”

“Yes,” Lily said, not taking her eyes off the barrel of the gun.

“Good,” he said “Do what I say, and no one has to die.”

Lily could feel the weight of the burner phone in the front pocket of her sweatshirt and sweat broke out on her upper lip. Maybe, she thought, maybe she could still use it.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Scully grasped his hand tightly, eyes closed, breathing hard. As the night wore on and windows outside the cabin turned pale, her contractions seemed to be progressing as they ought, but she was in pain -- terrible pain -- and his heart clenched for her.

He hadn’t done this since Lily was born nearly two decades before -- holding the hand of his wife while she battled to bring his child into the world. He still felt an overriding guilt for not being there for her during her complicated and troubled delivery of William.

He remembered walking down the hallway toward her room the day he was born, his breath shaky and halting, not knowing what he’d find. There had been a strange sense of deja vu as he approached her door that night, and he had an odd mental picture — an actual phantasmagoria — flash through his mind unbidden of walking in and seeing Scully, her hair shorter than she had ever cut it, her body on the bed thin and reedy -- most definitely not pregnant. He could still see it in his mind’s eye, Scully lying on her side in the hospital bed, wires and IVs coming out of her, a nasal cannula over her ears. She wore a teal hospital gown and the look on her face was one of horrified surprise. The flash had so disturbed him that he ran the last few feet to her labor and delivery room and crashed through the door, which knocked into the rubber stopper on the wall. There Scully lay, in a pink gown, her hair long and her face pale, but smiling, their son lying peacefully on her chest.

He shook himself of the memory and concentrated on his wife.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The man had Will unhooking the ATVs as he pushed them back and off the ramp of the trailer, his gun strapped to a holster on his leg. Lily had her hand in her pocket thumbing the phone, trying to remember which button was “on” from memory. She depressed the button and the ancient phone beeped once, the sound covered by the merc turning on and revving the first four-wheeler, luck on her side, for once.

He moved to the side of the van and pulled out a mid-sized black canvas attache case that had a biohazard warning patch on the side. He secured it to the back of one of the vehicles and then winked at her. Lily’s insides went cold, thinking of her mother.

He pointed at the ATV and looked to Will. “Hop on, William,” he commanded. They had not told him their names. Her brother mounted the four-wheeler, licking his lips nervously. The merc turned to her.

“You know how to drive one of these?” he asked her. She shook her head. He pointed, impatient. “Throttle. Brake. Get on.”

She did.

“You know where to go,” the man said, then revved his engine, the noise a loud mechanical crank in the sleepy peace of the forest. A flock of birds were startled into flight from the trees above, taking wing into the autumn sky, a flutter of panicked commotion.

XxXxXxXxXxX

“Mulder, I need you to promise me something,” Scully said weakly. She was tiring and had refused food. She was laying on the narrow cot by the stove and he was sitting next to her.

“Anything,” he said, brushing back the hair from her forehead.

“Don’t be a hero,” she half-whispered. “I need you. The kids need you. Don’t… don’t try anything.”

Luis, listening in from a few yards away, spoke for the first time in an hour.

“‘S good advice,” he sneered.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Lily slid the phone out of her pocket and took a surreptitious look down. It was on. She glanced back up to watch where she was going -- the trees here were much closer together -- saplings growing like weeds in a field. She had to swerve quickly to miss one and she heard the mercenary shout from behind her. Her quick turn had lifted the right side of the ATV’s wheels almost off the ground -- if she’d been leaning the wrong way or even at all, the whole thing would have gone over.

Straightening and watching her path on a fresh surge of adrenaline, she glanced once again at the phone -- there was a single bar of service showing. She was so shocked she almost dropped it. Licking her lips, she kept her eyes ahead and dialed 911, glancing down once or twice to make sure she’d entered it correctly. She pressed “send.” She was driving one-handed and was hoping the merc didn’t notice. Even with the roar of the engines, she could hear the phone dialing.

They were almost to the cabin. She could smell woodsmoke. If they cleared one more rise, they’d be there.

The burr of the phone ringing was the only thing she could hear.

Up the rise, she knew the ATV was still right behind her, knew that there was still a gun trained at her brother's head.

"9-1-1, what... your emergency?" she could hear the dispatcher through static.

Then she was over the hill. The cabin sat before them, a squat building standing stalwart in a field of trees, smoke leaking from the chimney and sinking to the ground like an escher painting.

She felt the machine under her go over an unexpected bump on the right side and the wheels rise up slightly. She took a chance on creating enough of a distraction for emergency services to trace her call. She leaned hard left and gravity did the rest, tipping the ATV in what felt like a slow motion fall onto its side. Lily, wearing neither helmet nor seatbelt fell hard onto her shoulder, her head snapping into the earth.

She rolled, and the machine missed her leg, but the phone went flying out of her hand, arcing through the air and into the leaf cover. The other ATV revved to catch up with her and then stopped close to the cabin on a spray of dirt and leaf pieces. Then the engine cut, and she could hear the voice on the other end of the phone several yards away cutting in and out in static.

Stars burst behind her eyes like fireworks popping in the night. When her vision cleared, the man was standing over her, his boots so close to her face that she could smell the leather. Her brother was close, but was clearly wary of the mercenary, and she saw him take several steps backward toward the cabin, his eyes on his sister and the dangerous tableau before him.

The man before her lifted a foot and she braced herself for a kick or a blow, but instead he took several steps off into the duff and then once again lifted his heavy booted foot up and this time slammed it down hard onto the staccato-voiced cell phone in the leaves, the static turning into silence with an almighty metallic crunch.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Scully’s contractions were extremely close together. She was lying on the cot, her face a sheen of perspiration. Mulder almost didn’t hear the sound of the engines over her groan.

Luis, who had been watching Scully intensely, his brows knitted together, stood quickly when he heard the motors. There was a chaotic sound outside and then the engines cut, close to the cabin.

“About fucking time,” Luis hissed and then was out the door, leaving it open. Mulder looked to Scully and then, very slowly and deliberately leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“No matter what happens,” he whispered, “I always have and always will love you.”

Scully nodded and then another contraction pressed on her and she winced.

“Mulder, I’m feeling really pushy,” she said.

“Shit,” Mulder swore, standing without much hope of doing anything.

Scully opened her mouth and let out an unholy yowl.

And then, from outside the cabin, they heard the unmistakable voice of their fifteen year old son: “Mom?!”

XxXxXxXxXxX

“Shut up,” said the merc to William from where he stood by the cabin’s door.

Lily rolled up to her knees and shook her head, standing woozily, just as the man Luis came barreling out the door.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Luis hissed at the other man.

“Get your panties out of your ass, Cardinal,” he said. “I’m here.”

“She’s in labor, you greasy piece of shit. We’re on the fucking clock.”

Another dump of adrenaline hit Lily’s bloodstream and she took several steps toward her brother, who was still looking at the cabin in alarm.

He nodded at Luis and unstrapped the black attache kit from the back of his ATV, walking to the open doorway, where he paused. He pointed to where Lily stood, not far from her brother.

“Watch these two,” he said, “and maybe don’t lose them this time?”

XxXxXxXxXxX

“...and maybe don’t lose them this time,” Mulder heard from the doorway. The voice was familiar, and when he looked to the man’s face, he was taken over by such an unholy rage that his vision quite literally tunneled, going black from the sides.

He’d launched himself before anyone knew quite what was happening, even himself. His body hit the other man’s full force and they flew outside, landing in the duff and scattering dirt from the force of their impact.

“Krycek,” he hissed, “you son of a bitch-” and then he reared back his fist and delivered a haymaker to the man’s chin -- all the pent of fury of finding Scully at the top of Skyland Mountain all those years ago crashing back -- Krycek’s head whipped back, spraying blood onto the O horizon.

XxXxXxXxXxX

She’d say this for her brother: his time on the ice had served him well.

Cardinal was as taken by surprise as everyone else by their father’s furious launch at the other merc, and Will, who had been standing several feet away, took the opportunity to grab his improvised hockey stick, which had been propped up by the door on the outside of the cabin and swung it with everything he had at the man. It connected with Cardinal directly across the temple; the dull, sickening thud the best thing Lily had ever heard. Cardinal hit the wall of the cabin and crumpled, sliding to the ground like bubbles down wet skin.

Her father’s head whipped around to see what had happened behind him, and Krycek seized the opportunity to kick Mulder hard, sending him flying backwards. Both men scrambled up to standing when Scully appeared in the doorway of the cabin, taking two shaky steps outside. Everyone turned to her.

“Mulder,” she rasped, looking at her husband, distraught, “I think it’s time.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

Mulder looked to his wife.

Scully then let out a scream and stumbled forward, grabbing onto a nearby tree for support. Lily dashed to her side without thinking, giving Krycek the opportunity to swing the gun he still held in his hand up to train it on both of them. Mulder’s heart rose to his throat.

From nowhere, Krycek produced another pistol, which he aimed at Will, who had been attempting to get around the side of the cabin after felling Cardinal. Mulder froze.

"This ends one of two ways!" Krycek shouted, stopping everyone in their tracks. There was a smear of blood running down his chin. "All of you dead, or everyone alive. I really don't care one way or the other."

Krycek flicked the gun once at Will, who dropped the stick and made his way over to his sister, who was still several feet away from Scully, who had taken a few staggered steps before slumping to her knees, knocked back by another powerful contraction, this one right on the heels of the last. She was panting, and swung her eyes up to Mulder drunkenly. Krycek had a gun on her and one on their children.

"All right," Mulder said, anguish gripping him, "all right."

He was out of options. He looked to the functioning four-wheeler that Krycek had come in on. Krycek could have Scully on it and to the county road in less than ten minutes. The other four wheeler was still on its side, smoking, the smell of gas and oil ripe in the air. He'd never be able to get to them.

Mulder looked at Scully. He looked at his children. Hopelessness rose in his gut like vomit, consuming and poisonous. He thought vaguely of bum-rushing Krycek once again, one last sacrifice to save those he loved.

The moment slowed to a honied drip. Five seconds to make a choice, each one ticking by more slowly than the one before it. One. He thought of Lily as a baby, of William; the newborn smell of their sweet red hair. Two. He thought of Olivia Kurtzweil, sitting across from him in his office. Lying dead on her own floor. Three. He thought of Samantha, her thick braids flying out behind her, laughing as she ran down the beach in Quonochontaug. Four. He thought of his first day of firearms training at Quantico. His instructor laying a pistol on the countertop and saying: “It takes only seven pounds of pressure to pull a trigger.” Five. He thought of Scully. Of their first meeting in the basement office, her bright seafoam eyes and her chipper little handshake. He thought of her terrified face atop Skyland Mountain, how her hands felt around his neck as he carried her all the way down. He thought of how she gasped when he touched her, of the dusky way her skin looked in the moonlight.

He moved to take a step toward her, but was shocked into stillness when a gun shot rang out out of nowhere and Krycek slumped to the ground. Mulder turned to where the shot had come from and there, standing in the middle of the Northwoods forest in a pristine white blazer and jeans stood Lauren, the archaic rifle that had adorned the deer mount on the cabin wall pressed expertly to her shoulder. Smoke wafted out of the barrel, and she slowly lowered the weapon.

“You stopped answering your phone, Fox,” she said. “We had a deal.”

XxX

Will and Lily were both facing away from where Krycek had fallen, looking at Lauren in surprise, and Mulder took three large strides to get to them before they could turn and see what was left of the man. He grabbed them by the shoulders, one hand on each of them and leaned down.

“It’s okay,” he said, in a quiet voice, “we’re all okay.”

Will turned into him and buried his face into his father’s chest. Lily put her hand over his and turned toward Scully, who was leaning against a tree, one arm wrapped tightly around her stomach. Luis Cardinal was still out cold by the cabin’s wall, his arm thrown out an odd angle. Mulder hoped it was broken.

“Can you guys help your mom into the cabin?” he said and both kids went immediately to her.

He heard the crunching of leaves and found Lauren at his shoulder.

“I called the county Sheriff before I came onto the property,” she said in a low voice, “I don’t know how long it will take them to get here.”

Mulder turned to her in full.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice shaky, “You saved my family.”

“You’re all the family I have left,” she said, “and you would have done the same for me.”

He pulled her tightly to him. She gave him a brief squeeze, the rifle she was holding pressing into his hip. She pulled back.

“Please tell me Dana’s not in labor,” she said.

“Dana’s in labor.”

Lauren took a deep breath and glanced down at the man whose life she had taken not moments before.

“Don’t look,” Mulder said gently.

Lauren nodded stoically and shouldered the rifle.

“There’s another merc by the cabin,” Mulder said, “alive. Can you help me secure him? See if there’s some rope or something inside?”

Lauren nodded and headed into the cabin, and Mulder turned to Krycek and pushed him over onto his back with his foot. The man was looking straight up with sightless eyes. Then Mulder noticed several pairs of zip ties that Krycek had had secured to his utility belt. He tried not to think of what he’d planned to use them for, and pulled one from the dead man’s waist.

“We need to make this quick,” Lauren said as she came out the door, her statement punctuated by a low, feminine moan from inside the cabin. Mulder’s gut roiled.

“Let’s go,” he said, and dragged Cardinal roughly by the shoulders to a medium pine not far from the cabin door. Mulder wrenched the man’s hands behind his back around the tree and Lauren cinched the zip tie on tightly. He gave a light moan but was otherwise still.

When they trotted back into the cabin, they found both kids at their mother’s side, wearing panicked, wary faces.

Scully had settled onto the cot that had been set up near the woodstove. Her eyes were closed and her hands gripped the steel frame. Mulder asked the kids to collect clean linens and blankets from the cedar cabinet and then went back outside to pull Krycek’s body over behind a large tree, knowing he was disturbing evidence, but not caring. He didn’t want it anywhere the kids could see.

When he came back inside, Scully was propped up on pillows, Lauren kneeling next to her. They both turned to him. Scully reached out her hand and he walked over and grabbed it.

“Any sign of the Sheriff?” Lauren asked in a low voice.

Mulder shook his head.

Scully winced and squeezed his hand, gritting her teeth.

“Her contractions are one on top of each other, Fox,” Lauren said.

Lily had drifted over and spoke from Mulder’s elbow.

“Can you give me and Will something to do?” she said, “he’s kind of freaked, and so am I.”

“Hey Will,” Mulder said, “can you take the bucket to the pump and bring us water?”

“Yeah!” Will jumped up and grabbed the bucket by the kitchen wall and scooted outside quickly.

“Lily,” Mulder said, and she looked up at him. “Do you think you can help your mom?”

“Yeah, I can,” Lily said, and went to Scully’s other side.

Scully looked up to Mulder.

“I’m feeling really pushy,” she said once again and gave him a this is serious look.

“You pitch, I’ll catch,” Mulder said easily, trying to project a confidence he didn’t feel, and moved to the end of the bed. He helped Scully pull down her leggings and get situated back on the bed.

Scully was breathing hard and took another deep breath, trying to slow herself down.

“Lil,” she said, pausing to close her eyes and breathe through her nose, “you hold one knee, Lauren will hold the other.”

Lily nodded bravely and grabbed her mother’s leg firmly. Lauren did the same on Scully’s other side.

Mulder could see a bright thatch of hair already crowning between Scully’s legs and grabbed a clean towel, reaching forward.

“Oh my god,” Lauren said, just as Scully gave another almighty yell. The baby’s head was all the way out. One more push and Mulder caught his second son as he careened into the world, registering his complaints loudly for anyone who would hear them.

Will came banging through the door just as Mulder was placing the child on Scully’s chest, a full bucket of water sloshing over where it hung from his hand.

“The Sheriff is here!” he said, as he took in the sight before him.

“Come and meet your brother,” Scully said, smiling tiredly, sweat beaded on her brow.

EPILOGUE

Lily stood in front of the building nervously twirling a lock of hair around her fingers, over and over; a tic she’d had since childhood. Her father was parked not quite a block up the avenue waiting for her -- not totally out of sight, but enough to afford her some privacy. She glanced at his car's taillights once and then looked back at the old building with its colossal white columns and bright red brick.

She knew Travis's schedule well enough that she shouldn’t have been surprised when he emerged from the double doors of the Old Engineering Hall, but her heart skipped a beat anyway.

He was several steps out when he noticed her standing at the base of the old cement staircase, and he pulled up short, cinching his backpack once contemplatively before continuing his descent. He stopped in front of her, but made no move to touch her or talk. He merely looked at her, waiting for her to say something.

She gave him a tentative smile that he didn't return.

"Hi," she finally said.

"Hello," he said. He didn't sound angry or upset, merely expectant, maybe a little resigned.

She felt tears welling in her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. She couldn't think of a thing to say -- where to possibly start telling him her story. He must have sensed how overwhelmed she was, as he took a breath and said, not unkindly:

"You were supposed to meet me for lunch. You never showed up."

She pressed her lips together and nodded her head, remembering the feeling of being pursued through the student union, of holding her father's hand and running from Darlene's house, thinking she may have gotten her whole family killed. Of running through the trees. Of gunshots and the hot ozone smell of cordite.

"I called you," he went on, "I called you like thirty times."

"I didn't have my phone," she finally said, "I couldn't-"

"-you didn't have to ghost me, Lillian," he interrupted, "I was afraid something happened to you... I was about to call the cops when I realized that I didn't actually know where you lived." His tone was serious, a touch disappointed, and it made Lily's insides feel like iced lead.

"My... my name's not Lillian," she whispered, and the tears finally fell from her eyes.

He tilted his head like a confused pup and looked at her, puzzled and upset.

So she told him. Everything. She took a breath and let loose with everything she and her family had been through for the last nine months. In a teary voice with hitching sobs, she told him about her family's genetic legacy, about going on the run, about how she had managed to feel safe and happy when she was with him, able to forget -- at least for a few hours -- about the dangers pressing on her from all sides. And finally about the last 72 hours and her life at the other end of a pointed gun.

He stood, staring at her in fascination and what looked like disbelief. When the last word of explanation had been said, she could feel her insides wilt a little in relief; everything out in the open, the last of her words falling out of her mouth and sinking to the ground, heavier than air.

“I… I would understand if you didn’t believe me,” she finished.

Just as she steeled herself for his withering incredulity and disbelief, he took one giant step toward her, dropping his backpack as he moved, and wrapped her in his thick, sturdy embrace. She felt herself melt into his caress like liquid, felt his hand come up to hold her head tightly to his chest, his fingers threading through her hair.

“I believe you,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her hair.

She experienced a relief so profound she gave an involuntary sob into the solid mass of him, as he murmured words of encouragement and comfort into her ear. She figured out in that moment what love was. It was this.

She wasn't sure how long they held each other, but he didn't pull back until she did, and even then he reached out and grabbed her face in both hands lightly, his thumbs rubbing her cheekbones in a gossamer wisp.

"Jesus," he finally said, searching her eyes with his intense hazel gaze. She gave him a shaky smile and a half laugh and he dropped one hand to her arm, leaving the other on her face, which she leaned into. "I don't know your real name," he chuffed kindly, "What do I even call you?"

She smiled, sniffed -- probably unattractively, she thought -- and closed her eyes once before looking at him with affection. "I'm kind of partial to 'Frisbee,' to be honest," she said. He leaned down and kissed her with everything he was worth.

#In Conclusion #MSR #AU #Sequel #Of the Eight Winds #XF #Fanfic #My fic

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sullustangin · 3 years ago

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Theron Shan Week, Prompt 1: Childhood

Corellia, 14 ATC (3639 BBY)

(Post Annihilation, pre-Hutt Cartel)

Word Count: ~3000

Rating: PG/T

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33142732

A whoosh of air.

He touched down on the last building ledge before the street turned into a crater. He recalibrated his jetpack for the potentially dangerous terrain he was about to face below. This job was to be a quick one. Recover personnel data and exfiltrate to the remains of the Coronet Spaceport. Then it was on to Makeb for initial reconnaissance. That job would take more time than this one, but still, it had to be quick. Too much was buzzing there, literally and figuratively…

Theron Shan was willing to bet there’d be boots on the ground not long after the new galactic year rolled in. He leapt from his perch on the building and activated the retroboosters just in time to let himself touch down softly, flexing his foot against the ground to test stability.

Acceptable. Theron switched the pack to standby and fixed his attention on what was beneath his feet. That was always the center of focus now, lest he plunge down into the sewers as the ground gave way.

Before proceeding any further, Theron called up old holostills. Despite the ruin of Coronet City, certain features remained identifiable, and he’d be damned if he was going to go rooting through the wrong building.

He’d done his best to forget this place, after all.

As his implants matched key architectural features and the crumbling skyline, Theron closed his eyes to conjure long-shelved memories.

Yes, he had stood here before. This used to be the gymnasium. He’d spent countless hours there. It was the one place he could fly. It was the last place his body had been perfect.

Well, almost. He’d had an adventurous childhood. There was certainly a difference, however, between slicing his foot on a shell on the Gold Beaches and being shot in some Czerka factory on Telos IV. Theron impulsively ran his tongue over his new teeth. After Ziost, he estimated he had six original teeth left.

Funny how he thought of that in the place he cut his last molars.

That all said, Theron never had a particularly strong opinion about his body. His body was a tool, something he used to serve the Republic and work in the Strategic Information Service.

Just as his boot nudged a sign, covered over in dust, his implants chirped to confirm his location. Using a heavily gloved hand, he crouched to wipe the metal plate just enough to read the lasered words: CORONET CITY MILITARY ACADEMY GYMNA—

The rest of the sign was broken off, probably somewhere in this rubble. It confirmed everything else though, including his own recollections about this place.

As Theron tread carefully through the ruin, his focus was on the rubble under his feet and the map in his implants, augmented by the old memories that ran in his head like holos.

Those were simple tasks, however. Theron’s mind was far more active than that, much to his annoyance. He thought back…

His mind and body had been sharply honed from a young age. The discipline of a Jedi was more than mental. However, he noticed the first hint that something was wrong with him. Theron had to work so hard, and he had to be so much more fit he than the other younglings he occasionally encountered in his travels with Master Zho. Yes, he was strong and athletic and graceful. But Theron struggled. He fought gravity, as others danced with it.

Theron remembered her in particular. The girl who had bested him with such little effort was also the most compassionate of the bunch. She was going to be a great Jedi, he knew it. She barely bent her knees before she could launch high in the air, and she landed silently, as if invisible wings lowered her back to the dusty earth. Theron had to put everything he had into the launch, and the soil puffed up around him in the arid environment as his body displaced it.

She was poetry. He was gutter-speak.

Theron could defeat ill-disciplined younglings, but someone like her – someone who took this just as seriously as he did – outmatched him. He tired long before she did, and it was a mystery to him how her muscles did not ache, how her breath never managed to run out.

It was only in retrospect that Theron realized he had a crush on her. At the time, the warm feeling that had crept across his face whenever she spoke to him, the small flutter his tiny, preteen heart gave – that had been dismissed. Jedi didn’t fall in love. Jedi didn’t have selfish attachments.

Theron wanted to become a padawan on the off-chance he’d be paired with his mother as his master.

The dream changed – it had to – after Haashimut.

Zho left him without telling him he was as Force-null as his biological father likely had been -whoever he was.

Nobody knew who his biological father was.

His mother didn’t come for him. They couldn’t find her.

As he turned 14, Theron was lodged at Coronet City Military Academy. Here.

Theron turned. This was where the lift had been that went down to the basement, where the janitorial offices and the records facility had been. He peered over the edge of the shaft. No, he wasn’t going to risk it. Theron activated the magnetic picks on the toes of his boots, turned the retroboosters to standby, just in case, and he started the dusty, sweaty climb down. The heat that built up reminded him of one particular shame that came over him --

Theron was put on a brief crash course of all the subjects Jedi hasn’t necessarily prioritized in his education to this point.

He discovered his mother was imperfect and had apparently broken the Jedi code. At least once. Theron was evidence – a body of evidence.

He was embarrassed. He felt like he’d been fooled by everyone about his mother, about his abilities, about his life – everything.

The first bubbling of teenage fury rose up in him, and when the school registrar asked for his name, he did not supply “Theron Zho” as he so often had when traveling with his so-called ‘father.’

“My name is Theron Shan.”

Theron hadn’t known at the time that “Shan” was as common as Smith or Parr or K’tilhok in certain corners of the galaxy. He thought he was being defiant. He was one of nineteen Shans in his class at the Coronet City Military Academy. So much for that rebellion, that attempt at scandal that would surely bring her to confront him…to see him for the first time since he was six months old.

Theron always carried that last holo with him… the one of her with him and her. The anger died away when the news reached him that Satele Shan had rediscovered Tython. It wouldn’t be formally founded and populated for another few years, but she had done the impossible. To her credit, she had sent word to the governors of the Academy that she was gratified that Master Zho’s charge Theron had been safely placed in their care.

The business of Tython would be a long process that took time. She was going to be busy.

Theron continued to train his body and maintain the physical fitness he had, even though he was never going to have the opportunity to do a backflip, summon his lightsaber into his hand, and duel a Sith Lord atop of a ship hull or anything like that.

Theron also found out that the kind Jedi youngling had become a padawan. She was killed at the Coruscant temple. He didn’t want to remember her name anymore. It hurt too much, for he had realized that if he had been Force Sensitive, he wouldn’t be here on Corellia in so many ways.

That first Life Day on Corellia, Theron knew the conundrum of his heart being so warm and yet the outside world being so cold as other children went home on weekends and holidays, and he remained in the dormitory. His bed assignment was changed at the end of term, so nobody thought anything was amiss. Everyone’s bed assignment was changed between terms. He wasn’t thought to be any different than other child. His parents just got him late and returned him early, his peers thought. It was impossible that he stayed there for a month by himself.

But he did.

Theron always remembered the janitors that cared for the building and the one chef that remained to feed him and the residential staff. It wasn’t just a holdover from Jedi teachings about equality and respect. He mouthed their names as he passed the doorless thresholds that were once their offices: C’thik. Donya. Thileo. Danodeen. They cared for Theron. He cared about them the best he could.

Something inside Theron hurt any time he had an urge to express his feelings beyond gratitude. Many impulses to hug were suppressed. When he woke up from the formless terror that pursued him in the night, he did want to scream out, in the hopes someone heard him. But he pushed that down. He grew up, or at least he imitated the idea of what he thought was being a grown up.

Theron’s constant presence at the Academy came with the assumption of an unhappy home, so in the second term, it appeared some well-meaning mothers encouraged their sons to befriend him. He remembered some of them. They’d grown up in places like this too.

Theron didn’t remember the names of his … companions? Fellow inmates? all that well. They were good kids. They didn’t get Theron, who was so mature about some stuff but just so oblivious to other stuff, like girls and music and holos and virtual games.

The girls at the Academy were made of braver stuff than the boys were. Theron didn’t know what to make of them, for the most part, but they at least tried to strike up a conversation with him. They asked how he was. He failed, utterly, at small talk, so once their questions were answered, he moved on. The girls were brazen in coming to watch him in the gymnasium. Theron was already in SIS by the time he figured out they hadn’t been interested in the technical merits of his routine.

The boys (with one exception) never got too close to Theron. They were terrified of him after he knocked an upperclassman’s teeth down his throat for trying to shake down the class runt in Theron’s year for his datapad. They still hung out with him, but they watched him with the same fascination they had when they visited the zoo’s jaggalors. He was a creature so fierce they were never even tempted to tap on the glass, see how he was doing, what was going on inside.

The one exception’s name was Arlo, the runt in question, and the datapad was his comic book collection. The collection had been started by his grandfather and maintained by his father and uncle and passed down to the smallest Gran ever born in that family.

Theron thought it was the most wonderful thing to have a hand-me-down anything from anyone.

Arlo wasn’t bothered when Theron asked why he was being trained in the military arts; the Gran had strict career quotas, and everyone was expected to do their part. Arlo was not an obvious candidate for battlefield hero. “I’m in this to get into the intelligence service. SIS.”

That was the first time Theron ever heard of what would become the rest of his life.

In exchange for self-defense lessons, Theron became very knowledgeable about the last 75 years of comic books. It was still the only element of pop culture he kept up with. Theron kept it to himself; his dates never got it. He and Arlo plotted their schedules so that they could train together, study together, and have a free period on the day of the week when the comics hit the holostands. They took the tram to the nearest major holostand – the one near the academy didn’t have comics, possibly at the behest of the commandant. In their minds, nothing was going to stand in the way of them getting into SIS together and seeing the galaxy and fighting the Empire.

…Somewhere in the middle of that, as he stood in the basement, Theron realized he had still been just a child.

Well, this might have been a wasted trip. Theron stood in what remained of the records office. At the back of the room, there was a great kriffing hole that vented down into the sewer he’d been so anxious to avoid, and half the databanks had clearly collapsed into it. If they’d been swept away, then it was game over for Theron. Ugh. The flimsi work he’d have to file.

Then again, it was only half the databanks. He still had a 50/50 chance of success. Theron activated his implants and scanned for the power source. Aha, there. And it had a battery back-up. Theron waited for the full report on the battery’s health before he did anything. He needed to know how much time he had.

He wanted to be done with this place.

Once the battery passed its health screening, Theron sliced in with his implants and booted the entire system up with the clearance codes he’d been given by the current commandant; the one Theron had known was long gone.

Yes, he knew there was corruption. Yes, he knew critical files were missing. Yes, yes, yes, yes, please boot up now –

Would he like an index of available files?

Yes, yes, he would. It would tell him whether this was pointless –

Or not. It was not. The two sets of files he had been instructed to extract and wipe from this system were right there. The Empire hadn’t even realized it had trodden right over vital intel about the agent now known as Technoplague and the SIS Director.

Marcus Trant had been Coronet City Military Academy’s finest alumnus, rising high and fast before, during, and just after the Great Galactic War. His arrival on campus had turned heads. Not Theron’s. Theron remained focused on his study and his physical routine.

It was after Theron had stuck the landing on his floor routine that the man approached him. Theron remembered watching him with wariness until he introduced himself as the Director of SIS. He was seeking recruits for the agency’s early start program. Promising 16 and 17 year-olds could go. Since Theron was a ward of the state, it was entirely his choice; parental permission wasn’t required.

Theron’s first question was whether Arlo could go with him.

Arlo was ultimately sidelined from SIS due to a heart murmur. Even if he was just an analyst, SIS wanted him to be able to handle himself in a blaster fight, and they didn’t want to kill him while training him. That meant he went back home to become a religious scholar.

Theron went to SIS. Arlo gave him a copy of the comic collection, with his father’s permission.

Then the rest of Theron’s life had started.

Theron checked the files to ensure he’d copied everything over before wiping and reformatting those sectors of the database. For Trant, his files could be a wealth of raw data and inspiration; he could have drawn on his experience at the academy to create codenames passcodes, associations. He could have used innocuous childhood memories to create these items. Someone with enough data about Trant’s life could feasibly put the pieces together.

For Theron, it was all about his biometrics: his medical records, his yearbook holos, even his growth charts could be used to identify him in the field as a grown man. The name didn’t matter as much as the evidence of the body.

He was done here. Theron sent the final command to wipe that area of the database and reformat. Trant and Theron were no longer documented alumni here.

As Theron readied his jetpack for exfiltration (he was keeping it simple: up and out), his implants sorted the images attached to the files before sealing them. He saw something.

He paused the process to have a look at his 14-year-old self. He was 14 years and 5 weeks, actually. Zho had sent him to Haashimut 7 weeks before, just before his birthday.

…and he looked terrified. His life had been ripped apart, and he was flying without a safety net or a familiar face anywhere near him. Theron though he heard the whine of a holocam that would signal a great white flash --

Theron pushed back at the memory, as he always had, and he dismissed the holo, letting the sealing process finish. It was over. There was nothing he could do now. He was no longer a failed Jedi Youngling.

…it was all about context. Theron ignited the jetpack and began his ascent out of the ruin of the Academy.

He’d had a good childhood with Master Zho – if he could forget what happened next. In all honesty, nothing awful had happened at Coronet City Military Academy to make him hate the place. It had been his haven between being a Jedi and being an SIS agent. But it was being between lives that had made Theron so miserable: his past was irrelevant and his future was uncertain for almost three years. That was the context that made every moment there excruciating.

But that was done and over with. He was fine. He had his career. Arlo had his career and his ever-expanding comic collection. They still commed once in awhile.

As Theron landed at the spaceport, a message came through his implants from his personal Holonet box. Oh. Karrie.

Kriff, he’d forgotten to tell her –

Kriff. He was off to Makeb and he’d forgotten to tell the girlfriend he wasn’t even on Coruscant.

Well, if she was the girlfriend after that screw-up. He left it on ‘read.’ He’d try to comm her in transit. Theron really did like her. He was pretty sure he was in love with her.

Theron would deal with the personal stuff later. On to Makeb and the next mission.

Neither the Republic presence on the planet or the girlfriend endured the following year.

Author’s Note: I’ve had this sort of headcanon dump file for Theron, and I drew this out of it. I have a few more bits still in it. In terms of timeline, I imagine that after the Treaty of Coruscant was finalized, Satele disappeared to go find Tython for the better part of 18 months. It’s during this period -- as Theron is 13 going on 14 -- that Zho finally gives up on him and Theron leaves the Jedi. Satele finds Tython and finally gets word of Theron’s situation. I decided that “finding Tython” and the “founding of Tython” are two separate events; the Jedi didn’t just move in the second Satele popped up with the good news. So 3653-3651 is a transition period for the Republic, Satele, and Theron at the same time. It’s a new galaxy for the losers of the war.

@theronshanweek-official

#theron shan #theronshanweek2021 #swtor #swtor fan fiction

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andreils-keys · 4 years ago

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kay so ive been taking prompts from my instagram and

why would you tell me not to kill one and if i do to bring him back please you’re taking all the joy out of writing >:(

anyways lets get into it <3 (tw: small mention of domestic abuse)

(disclaimer yes i am a kandreil shipper :))

andrew is cursed in the same way blue was sort of where if he tells someone that he loves them they’ll die (yes i changed it a bit)

but instead of doing the whole 'you're cursed zap magic' thing (bc i don't think it'd fit very well in the aftgverse) im gonna try something else

andrew had some pretty shitty foster homes when he was young

but the worst one was a small house by a family-owned ice cream shop

he remembers the ice cream shop very vividly. it was where he went when his foster mother was out working or drinking. it was where he went to feel safe.

he was pretty young, maybe 4 ? 5 ? impressionable. in that stage where santa claus and the boogie man were real, where hiding under a blanket protected you from nightmares. (he learned pretty quickly that hiding under the blanket did not protect you from anything.

he was bashed and battered with fists and words, words that cursed his very being and proclaimed that to love him was to die.

he was so young

he was only a child

and he did what children do best

he believed

there was a time when he doubted

another foster parent, a run down house made beautiful with love and mismatched furniture

the road to healing is rocky and dangerous, but easier to traverse when you have someone behind you

finally, he let himself love

he let his foster mother in, little by little, and he thought: maybe im not a curse

and he said: i love you

the day after, she died in a car crash

the car brutalized

her body brutalized

his heart brutalized

coincidence? he says out loud at the entrance of another foster home. because it needs to be said. because lies always become crystal clear when said out loud.

bc of this he's never directly expressed love for anyone and he tends to distance himself from people just to make sure there's 0 risk of him causing someone's death

but if he does care for someone he shows this through actions (no i love yous because that's what he believes caused his foster mothers death)

he's always had people he's cared about, people he's wanted to protect and keep safe

but ever since the car crash, hes never had anyone hes wanted to say i love you to

until

[enter kevin day]

the first person that consumed him was kevin, the boy that sought him out in high school with desperation in his eyes, raving about a sport that had made andrews days in juvie a little more bearable.

the man that always appeared on television with a cardboard smile stamped onto his face, always a step behind riko moriyama, always hiding in his shadow.

the man that inexplicably made yet another appearance in andrews life, this time with a shattered hand and a plea for help.

the man that pushed and pulled andrew just enough to get him through another day, another week.

and then neil, so different from kevin and yet so alike, as sudden as a gunshot, as tantalizing as death.

the boy that's as invested in riko and kevin as andrew is.

the boy that is impenetrable and distrusting, the boy that lets no one in.

at first andrew thinks he's safe. as long as neil doesn't let anyone in, that means andrew won't have to let him in. and kill him.

aha sike. turns out neil is the trusting-no-one-but-andrew-minyard-and-kevin-day type

the three of them form a twisted complicated pyramid; each side leaning against the other two. immovable. strong. inseparable, unless andrew deliberately pushes himself away when the feeling ballooning in his chest is too much.

(although he will always get pulled back in. the gravity of neil and kevin is too strong for andrew to stay away.)

he promises to protect them because that's what he does for the people he cares about.

but falling in love is a whole other ball game.

andrew is so afraid.

afraid to love them, afraid to let them in.

he knows he can't allow it; every time he thinks of how much he feels for them, he remembers the car, the shattered windows, the pieces of glass tipped with blood.

but andrew is only human.

even if he tells himself not to fall in love, the heart and body tend to ignore the mind.

he let’s himself be selfish

the hard press of kevin's lips against his, the gentle tug of neils fingers threaded through his hair, a hand clamped against neils neck and the other gripping kevin's arm.

that is all andrew allows

he doesn't mind if kevin and neil go gallivanting off somewhere on their own (s a f e l y; if those idiots get taken by the yakuza it would be extremely inconvenient for andrew)((andrew: dammit now i have to save them from the mafia nicky: you don't have t- andrew: no im gonna)), even if it prods unpleasantly at a sensitive point in his heart. if they're happy, hes happy.

(well, not quite happy. satisfied is the proper word. and he supposes that's the most he can ask for.)

he doesn't tell them about the nightmares. the dreams of fire and blood and twisted metal, of fists and a curse and a small, dark room. more often than not neil will wake to find andrew sliding out of his bunk and going to the kitchen for a bowl of ice cream.

neil won't pry, but he'll wake kevin and they'll join andrew in the kitchen, standing on the other side of the counter from andrew with their shoulders pressed together, a reminder to each other and andrew that they are there for each other.

and then neil disappears. like a dream. like smoke.

andrew took his eyes off neil for one second, and neil vanished in the crowd of angry fans.

they search and search but neil is gone.

all they find is neils exy racket lying on the ground in pieces, broken from the stampede of fans.

andrew whispers, the words dredged from a desperate, vulnerable place inside him: i love you. neil, i love you. come back to me. come back to kevin. come back to us.

the next day, the fbi tells them that they found neils gym bag. it was covered with tire tracks and spattered with blood.

they couldn’t find neil.

and the pyramid falls.

the grief and guilt and heartbreak andrew feels is unparalleled. never has he felt so broken. never has he felt so dirty. he did this. he did this.

kevin insists neil is still alive. lost and floating, but alive

but andrew knows better.

his nightmares get worse. sprinkled in with the mauled car and heavy fists is a shattered exy stick, a gym bag dripping blood, an unreachable figure with red hair and a slash of a smile.

andrew spirals.

he refuses to speak to anyone. even kevin. he'll stay with kevin and press his palm into the side of kevin's neck, his pulse grounding andrew and keeping him in the here and now, but he will not speak.

cabeswater brought gansey back right and i feel like the one closest to magic would be renee (thank you neils jortventures fairy magic huzzah) except she doesn't use magic.

so remember how she was affiliated with a gang when she was young

there was a member of the gang that continued to reach out to her, especially once they escaped from the gang a little after renee did

renee did respond to their messages, but she tried not to initiate conversation because they were part of her old life and she was living and loving her new one.

essentially she was nice enough not to cut them out completely.

unfortunately the kid got caught up in another gang that was closely associated with the butcher of baltimore

when nathan dies they text renee about how their gang is in pieces because the butcher is dead.

renee isnt there to receive the message right away (she and andrew were sparring, as they were keen to do now that neil was gone and andrew was out of sorts) and kevin is the one to catch the word butcher when the notification pops up

he scrambles for renees phone and sees: the butcher is dead.

he is so relieved because the butcher, the man kevin always had to fear and avoid, is dead

and then he starts to think

neil’s father was the butcher. does this have something to do with neil? was the butcher the one that took neil? if the butcher is dead, does that mean neil is still alive?

it’s a bit of a stretch, but kevin is willing to believe anything if it means that neil is alive

he tells andrew

he doesn't expect andrew to do anything but he still wants to tell him, just so that andrew will know, just so that kevin himself can taste the words.

kevin asks renee if they can reach out and she's like wtf y'all doing going through my phone but she understands how hard it hit them, andrew especially, and if it'll help them she'll go along

they meet up with the kid

renee seems nice enough, but andrew can tell how strained she is by the way she keeps cracking her knuckles one by one

they get the info from the kid about a red haired blue eyed cut up burned kid

kevin is distraught about the cut up burned part

andrew is close to vomiting from a whirlwind of relief (they never said he was dead) and denial and fear for neil

he refuses to get his hopes up; he said the cursed words. he saw the blood on neils’s gym bag. he saw the shattered exy stick. (or was that a dream? his nightmares and reality are so tightly interwoven he can hardly tell what's real)

the kid warns kevin and andrew that the last time they saw neil was in the basement and that the probablity of him still being there is relatively low

kevin makes a sort of impatient gesture at the kid and they bring kevin and andrew to the house (renee stays behind; she made a lame excuse about needing to make a phone call but she just wanted to give them space, either to reunite with neil or grieve their loss a second time)

from the outside, it’s a nice looking house and it doesn’t look threatening in the least, but andrew knows how deceiving appearances can be

once they go inside everything is in shambles. the couch overturned, the tv screen cracked in multiple places, ceiling plaster and pieces of porcelain all over the counters and dining table

the kid points them to the basement

kevin is the first to go down

andrew is surprised mainly because kevin is usually always so careful

andrew follows more warily, afraid to find nothing, afraid to find neil; afraid to have his heart broken all over again, afraid of the prospect that he has wasted his entire life living a lie.

he reaches the basement to find kevin wrapped around a small beat up, bruised, burnt, and shivering lump.

neil is hurt and bloody, and it drives a stake through andrew’s heart, but the fact that neil is breathing and alive alive alive causes a different kind of pain, the unique pain of relief and sorrow and love swirled together.

kevin is stroking neils hair and very obviously trying not to have a panic attack and andrew goes to them

sits down

both kevin and neil look up at him, and andrew watches as some of the fear and pain in their eyes fades.

he can feel the words bubbling up and he wants to say them, to scream them, but they are stuck inside his throat, twisted around his tongue.

it is a language andrew has taught himself to unlearn.

the road to healing is rocky and dangerous, but easier to traverse when you have someone behind you

it’s even easier when you have two people behind you, people who have seen what you have seen, people who make an effort to understand you.

andrew eventually does say it.

the words, no longer cursed, are still clumsy and fall in a messy jumble at his feet

but there they are, light as a cloud, heavy as a storm:

i love you

#aftg #all for the game #aftg hc #aftg headcanon #aftg headcanons #kandreil #kandreil hc #trc #bluesey #this wasnt supposed to be angst #and then it turned into kandreil angst #and honestly im not complaining

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therainbowwillow · 4 years ago

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https://therainbowwillow.tumblr.com/post/639917088173113344/alright-its-been-a-hot-second-since-ive-written -Part 1

Okay, Hadestown Fanfic With Crossovers Where Orpheus’s Terms are Different and Also ✨Olympus Drama✨Part 2/???

I think my greatest struggle in writing is... posting it. And deciding on a consistent plot. That too. Expect changes. Edit: Well, well, well, there’s a draft feature on this website? I might just migrate to Tumblr.

I may make an overview post at some point so you don’t actually have to read this. A long TL;DR probably, because it is written by Miss What-Is-Concise. My TL;DRs need TL;DRs of their own. Anyway, I’m rambling, so let me actually get started.

Preemptive:

-Orpheus is Apollo’s kid in this version, as he is in many retellings. He is raised by Hermes.

-Hermes works for Hades, bringing souls to the underworld. He resides away from Olympus to fulfill said duties.

-Dionysus’ parentage is by Persephone and Hades. (Because there’s no way Persephone’s screwing Zeus in the other room. Also this is his more underworld-connected family ties.)

-You drink from the River Lethe, according to some ancient authors, to forget your past life. And if Virgil can blatantly rip off Homer, I’m stealing ideas too.

-Would you look at that? This “short” AU fic is expanding by the minute. Hades and Persephone’s are true to the musical and that’s about it at this point.

Eurydice drags Orpheus to his feet. He leans against her. “Eurydice...” he mumbles. “I... I’m so sorry.”

“I signed my life away. That wasn’t up to you. We need to get going.”

Orpheus nods. “Why’s he letting us go? I don’t remember... anything really. I sang. Then I...” he turns away. “It felt like I was sitting in a fire. I couldn’t sing, I couldn’t think. It was unbearable.”

“I’ll never let them lay a finger on you again.”

“You didn’t answer me. Why’s he letting us go?” he asks, softly.

“He’s not,” Persephone mutters. “He wants you to fail. Then he’ll have a canary for his mines.”

Orpheus shudders at the thought. “My song... I thought... Persephone, I think I rewrote every note a hundred times. I lost the love of my life for that melody. And... it failed.”

“Just walk, okay? Please. Once we’re out of here, none of it matters,” Eurydice pleads.

“H-how far?” He’s almost afraid to ask. The original walk had been a grueling task. This one, he thinks, might be a hundred times harder. Whatever Hades had done to him... the effects hadn’t faded. Eurydice must already think he’s a selfish, naive, worthless idiot, he’s certain, so he plans to stay quiet. Unless it gets bad. Only if he needs to tell her, he decides.

“A mile, maybe a little more,” Persephone replies. “We’ll rest in my old greenhouse. It’ll be a roof over our heads at least. Don’t look back,” she warns. “Hades’ servants will follow us. Don’t give them a reason to think we’re afraid.”

Eurydice wraps and arm around Orpheus’s waist. “Tell me if you need a break.” He nods.

———————————

Hades sinks into his office chair. A painting of his wife hangs on the wall. He’s posing at her side. They’re smiling. She’s holding a bouquet of flowers. He rises and storms over to the portrait. He rips it of the wall and it crumples to the ground, torn in two.

He glances out the window. He’s viewing his realm from the highest point in Hadestown. The landscape is as flat as a sheet of paper. No hills, no mountains, only rivers, flowing by some force that is not the gravity of the overworld. His tower is the only peak. And the smokestacks of his factories.

This is his realm. All of it is his. Every inch of dirt, every scrap of metal and gemstone beneath the ground. Every sullen face of every tortured worker who’d sold his soul away. The wall is his too. And the Styx, which wraps it 7 times over. He’s a king and his castle is protected by the highest of palisades and yet... that boy... that son of Apollo had taken it all from him. What is a king without his iron fists? Now he had shown softness, now he’d shown weakness. A crack in the wall will bring the whole structure down, he thinks to himself. But what else can he do? Persephone is his wife. She is *his*. To imagine a thousand winters and springs and summers without her...

The underworld is lonely. He cannot lose her. But he cannot let the boy escape. Nor his lover, nor his traitorous workers. If he shows them an inch, they’ll take a mile. Worse, the traitors were right. Orpheus is alive. Orpheus is not his. That poet is all that stands in the way of his kingdom. And like any barrier, he will fall. How? Hades wonders. How can he kill the boy, break his spirit and punish him without losing Persephone? What blinds his wife? he asks himself. That silly little song had manipulated him, taken hold of his heart like alcohol. And Persephone loves it. She believes, truly believes, that Orpheus deserves to live for the very reason he must die.

Hades slams his fists against the window. Perhaps she was right. He ought to follow in his brothers’ footsteps. Forget his wife. That simple action would be enough to fix everything. If he let her go, she’d have nothing to hold over him. He wouldn’t be her puppet. He’d kill Orpheus, chain up the boy’s foolish lover and send Achilles and Patroclus to the darkest mines, and force them to work day and night apart from each other. Sure, the bunch of them would whine like kenneled puppies, but he could take their cries. They’d forget everything if he could get them to drink from the Lethe. Orpheus would be easy. Threaten his pretty little muse and he’d be scrambling to his knees. Eurydice would be nothing without her poet. Achilles would resist. He’d fight a millennia before he or his lover bowed before their king. But they too would fall.

Only Persephone stands in the way, he knows. He likes to imagine he has her under his control. But he knows it’s a lie. The food of the underworld she’d eaten, it didn’t confine her as well as he’d hoped. Sure, her time above ground would be made unbearable, but she would still be out of his grasp. She could leave. She would leave. He knows her threats aren’t empty. So he’ll find a way around her. He needs her to come back. Without Persephone’s warmth, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

He watches the crowd of shades begin to disperse and it dawns on him. Orpheus gives them hope, but he makes them afraid. How many deceased reside in Hadestown? It’d take a hundred thousand mortal lifetimes to count. And how many had stepped forward to help the poet boy? Two. Among that crowd, he knew, were great heroes. Heroes who once resided in Elysium. And still, only two shades had betrayed him. Two out of a trillion. Hades smiles. He won’t need to kill Orpheus. One of his workers can take the fall. Even Achilles won’t succeed in standing against an army the size of his. And Hades will win. His wife will see that some dead man has killed the singer to appease his king. She’ll suspect, but without proof, what does she have on him? Eurydice will see she has no choice. Once the boy belongs to him, Orpheus is his to manipulate. She’ll be trapped. Achilles, for all of his strength, is nothing alone. Without his dear Patroclus, he’ll give in. And so Hades plots.

————————————

Hermes, god of roads and messages, receives word of his adoptive son’s predicament with astounding speed. And he fears for Orpheus. But Hermes guides souls to the underworld, to Hades. To betray the king of Hadestown by helping the boy would be to lose his work and by extension, his freedom to live on the railroad. Without an excuse, he’d be back on Olympus, listening to Zeus and Hera’s endless bickering, watching Ares and Aphrodite humiliate themselves, and helping Dionysus comfort Apollo over the death of the mortal pretty boy of the week. And they wonder why Artemis avoids the damn place at all costs. In fact, he’s stuck on Olympus right now, called to the counsel by Zeus? Athena? He can’t remember. Some mortal breaking some rule.

Orpheus is more important than the meeting. His messenger had interrupted the counsel meeting to bring him word of the poor boy’s situation. He’s not sure how to cover this one up. No one was meant to interrupt important matters as this. Plus, he’d given the kid directions straight into Hadestown, which was the opposite of what his contract with Hades had said. He wasn’t allowed to barter for the return of mortal souls and he wasn’t allowed to assist mortals in doing the same.

“Hermes!” Zeus booms. “What is the meaning of this?”

He rolls his eyes. “Begone, messenger.” He slips a note into the man’s hands: ‘Tell Orpheus I’m coming.’ “Nothing, father. Just... matters of work. You know how Hades is. And don’t get me started on Thanatos! I’m late by half a second and-“

“Enough! I’ve half a mind to banish you from this counsel.” Hermes smiles. His excuses have succeeded.

Dionysus laughs, considerably beyond tipsy on his own wine. “You mind if I go too? I’m sick of this awful alcohol and I’ve got something far better back home.”

“Dionysus, wasn’t there an agreement we made?” Athena inquires, icily. “You cannot come to our meetings drunk.”

He smiles. “Well, you see,” he snaps his fingers and shakes his head, washing away his intoxication. “I didn’t come drunk. I *got* drunk while here.” He raises a flask and shakes it, refilling the canteen instantly. “There’s a difference.”

Athena grits her teeth. “Father, one more of these counsels and I swear...”

“And husband,” Hera pipes up, “We were going to address that nymph girl you’re always hanging around?”

Zeus flushes a deep shade of red. “Out. All of you. We’re done here.”

Hermes rises, forcing himself to keep his composure, at least until he’s out of sight. He steps into the sunlight that dazzles Olympus, treks the road to the edge of the mortal realm and... “Hermes?”

“Gods have mercy,” he mutters. He turns. “Apollo.” The god is puffy-eyed, probably from crying. Even Hermes had to agree, his latest lover had been gorgeous. Hyacinthus, was his name, if he remembered correctly. Apollo himself had called the counsel to beg for mortality when the boy had died and he hadn’t found another for what? Seventeen years? Spare for Orpheus’s muse mother, of course. Still, this was unusual, even for Apollo’s mellow dramatic self.

“You’re afraid.”

“Don’t... don’t do that, would you?” Hermes snaps, recoiling. “Yeah, yeah, medicine and all, but I don’t want you telling me what I’m thinking.”

Apollo dips his head in acknowledgment. “It’s my son, isn’t it?”

Hermes shakes his head. One word to Zeus and... all Prometheus did was hand over a spark. This was treason. “No, just work.”

Apollo tilts his head. “You’re lying.”

“What cause would I have for lies? I cannot keep Hades waiting, now.” He whirls away from Apollo’s gaze.

“Perhaps... treason?” Apollo inquires. Hermes’s eyes widen.

“Strong accusations.” He forces his voice not to shake.

“I won’t turn you in.” Liar, Hermes thinks. He wants to get on Zeus’s good side. A chance at getting his lover boy back.

“Correct. You wouldn’t have anything to turn me in for,” he tells the son of Leto.

“Orpheus’s wife... no, fiancée. No... I don’t know! The girl. She’s dead. Orpheus’s song is a failure. I heard it from Olympus. Lovely, really. But not nearly enough to convince Hades to let her go. Nothing is.”

Hermes turns again to face his half-brother. “Keep your voice down, would you? If Zeus hears a word of this-“

Apollo cuts him off. “And you helped him. You broke your contract and you know Hades better than anyone, other than Persephone, if they still talk these days. He’s crueler than he once was. They say Elysium itself is no more, that there’s only Tartarus now. You’re afraid of his wrath. And you’re afraid of Zeus. He’ll punish you too. You saw what he did to Asclepius. Struck by lightning for treason against Hades. And that was before this... winter,” he says, softer now.

“I don’t want a lecture, Apollo. What do you want?” Hermes glares at the god.

“I want a deal.”

Hermes narrows his eyes. “What kind of deal?”

“You break me in to the underworld-“

“No. I’m in enough danger as is.”

“Hear me out.”

“I said no!” Hermes steps back onto the road. Apollo grabs his wrist.

“I can get you out of trouble. Dionysus!” The wine god steps out of the woods.

“I’m due to visit my mother. Hades won’t prevent me from entering his realm, I’m his son,” Dionysus explains. “You and Apollo are there on Demeter’s ask to learn why Persephone is late. You, because you’re the god of messages and Apollo because he was available, on leave from his duties to mourn.”

Hermes groans. “The walk is far. Even if you’re me. Days on end of moping and drunken ramblings for a plan almost certain to backfire? I said no.”

Apollo smiles. “Then I’ll turn you in,” he says simply.

“You won’t. Orpheus is your blood. You’d put him in more danger. He knew of my contract and he let me break it. You’d add a charge against him. And it’s me. You cared once, didn’t you?”

“You know I would. You said so yourself. I visited the poet boy twice, maybe. And you? Ask yourself: when was the last time you optionally visited Olympus? But Hyacinthus, I loved for years. If I turn you in, I’m one step closer to him. On Zeus’s good side again.” Hermes shifts on his feet. “It’ll be good to have a doctor at the boy’s side too, seeing as your instructions just about starved him to death.”

Hermes glares at him. “Don’t.”

“You know it’s true. So? Let’s go or you trade places with Prometheus.”

“Fine,” he mutters, through a clenched jaw.

“Good. Now, this is on our terms, Hermes. I will aid your son because you’ve always been good to me and because he is my blood. If he gets in my way, he belongs to Hades.”

#hadestown au #orphydice #hadestown #hadestown fanfic #therainbowwrites

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cienie-isengardu · 4 years ago

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The development of Law’s relationship with Zoro - Part 4: Dressrosa, The Breaking Point (Protecting Law)

<<Part I: Before Meeting>> <<Part II: Sabaody Archipelago, The First Meeting>> <<Part III: Punk Hazard, The Alliance (A)>> <<Part III: Punk Hazard, The Alliance (B)>> <<Part IV: Dressrosa, The Breaking Point (The Plan Failed)__ (Saving Law)__(Protecting Law)__ (Birdcage, Pica and Doflamingo)__ (Aftermath)>>

While Doflamingo was addressing people of Dressrosa and explaining the rules of “game” to punish 12 enemies of his (chapter 746), Luffy was talking with Zoro, most likely explaining what happened in Throne Room. We can only wonder what exactly Luffy told him, did he mention anything related to Law. At the same time, Zoro held Law’s sword that he had to find somewhere around. Interestingly, according to SBS vol. 71, Trafalgar’s nodachi - Kikoku (Demon’s Cry) is in fact a cursed blade and Zoro is sensitive to such “evil” nature of swords what was seen with his own Sandai Kitetsu. As a swordsman himself, of course he took care of the sword while Law couldn’t do it personally. At the same time, we don’t see Zoro returning Kikoku to the owner, just that he had it while talking with Luffy. Another worth to mention detail is the cover of volume 75 (in which the discussed panel comes from) that adds to the impression that Zoro passed Kikoku to Luffy instead of Law. What supports the feeling of keeping distance between those two.

Using Den Den Mushi, Zoro contacted Robin to check in the situation:

For the upcoming chapters, the visual setting of three Supernovas shown together in the same panels will reflect this scene - Luffy as the central figure in this trio…. except a specific kind of situation but about that in a moment.

Like always, Luffy wasn’t bothered much by the whole enemy’s game, while Zoro did not show emotions at all. Law simply watched the whole situation (while his sword lied close to him). At least until Luffy declared to Rebecca he is going to kick Doflamingo’s ass because that went against the main goal of Law’s plan.

Zoro did not take part in the argument between two captains. Yet his reaction (holding and squeezing tighter his katana) seems to be quite ambiguous. For sure it was a sign of support for his captain’s decision - as in, ready to fight everyone and everything, no doubts about what should be done (read: kicking Doffy’s ass regardless of Law's objection). But at the same time it looks as, well, threatening Law is too big a word, because Zoro wouldn’t cut a defenseless man, but there is something (passive) aggressive about such a gesture. Law’s silent reaction (to Luffy’s words? To Zoro’s lack of reasoning with Luffy?) makes me think there was more going on in this scene than just Law’s angry(?) surprise/shock. This probably was another moment for Law to see who the fellow Supernovas were at the core.

Whatever Law’s impression was at that moment about Luffy and Zoro’s determination to save Dressrosa instead of thinking just of their own survival, the next few hours(?) gave him a better understanding of the dynamic between Zoro and his captain. In all fairness, the experience was gained by his own misery thanks to dealing with the insanity of Straw Hat with only Pirate Hunter for some sort of mental support. Starting with such treatment in chapter 746:

Without asking for permission or any warning, Luffy simply grabbed Zoro and Law and straight up jumped from a high place… only to land into the middle of an enemy group.

Law wasn’t happy about that - even threatened (again) Luffy that once he is free from handcuffs, he’ll kill Luffy. Usually Zoro reacts strongly to threats against his nakama, yet here he totally ignored Law’s words. Maybe he knew there was no time to worry about that or maybe he simply understood Law’s fury because really, that was a natural response to Luffy’s impatience. Unlike Law, Zoro had a lot of experiences with Luffy’s crazy ideas of “fast transport” and even many Straw Hats well familiar with their captain’s antics still weren’t comfy with it. The whole situation was even worse for the Heart captain due to seastone shackles that were A) weakening him and B) blocking his devil fruit’s powers so it was a freestyle “falling” he couldn’t in any way control or prevent if something went wrong. And Law seems like the type of person who likes to have control over things. So the resentment toward Luffy was an understable reaction.

One more important note about the landing scene - like was previously mentioned, Luffy for the majority of upcoming interaction between the three Supernovas was presented as a central figure, a “connection” between Zoro and Law. Both on the contextual level on which the analysis is based and in the visibility; in the sense how the layout of the panel has been planned. The biggest, most oblivious exception to the usual dynamic of Zoro-Luffy-Law were moments in which Zoro switched his position to put Law in the (safest) middle. Whatever he did that solely for Law’s safety or just Luffy’s (who by carrying all the time Trafalgar on his right arm couldn’t fight at 100% of his abilities and thus the right side was less guarded), the change was beneficial to Heart captain.

Since Luffy carried powerless Trafalgar, Zoro was the only one mobile to actually adapt his position to the needs of the situation. Like right now, cornered by the enemy, Zoro stood a bit ahead of two captains, with a katana already in hand, ready to fight.

Let’s just think about Law’s situation for a moment. Defenseless and surrounded on all sides by enemies, absolutely dependent on protection of fellow Supernovas he barely knew - including one chaotic dumbass responsible for his misery in the first place. Zoro, on another hand, was the only one person from Straw Hats crew that did not irritate or confuse Trafalgar in the last days of stress. But then the build impression of stoic, straight-thinking Zoro slowly started crackling. Like in the landing scene: Luffy thought he landed in a bad place to which Zoro noted there wasn’t any good place for them on Dressrosa right now and it was time to run away… just to run in the wrong direction. Which Luffy corrected the swordsman only to run in the wrong way too.

Law seriously didn’t need more stress at this point of life, yet not only Luffy but Zoro too, were challenging his self-control and patience.

Not much time has passed and Luffy already was caught by enemy’s attack:

Straw Hat managed to dodge “Super weight man” but get stuck for good. Both captains were saved from the powerful/deadly kick of Dellinger thanks to Zoro. Roronoa didn’t even cut the enemy, just kicked Dellinger in the ass and used his attack to push heavy Visa off from Luffy, freeing him for good (and once again, the frame presents Law in the middle).

The same like on Punk Hazard, Roronoa reminded Luffy to be careful.

This moment has an ambiguous feeling about it. On one hand, Zoro once again seemed to ignore Law's presence and focused on Luffy. On another, I think there is something diplomatic about the way Zoro addressed the situation. Because Luffy would be more or less fine, even if stamped by Visa. He was, in the end, a rubber-man and it wouldn't be the first time when something heavy crashed into him with high speed. Going Merry did that on a few occasions, when Luffy was using gomu gomu no balloon to save the ship from crashing into mountains / rocks. Unlike Law, who would be crushed to death.

The biggest problem during the run of Three Supernovas was how defenseless - thus useless in fight - Law was at that moment. He was totally dependent on Straw Hats and Zoro couldn't be not aware of that. On Sabaody Archipelago, when Eustass Kid decided to deal with marines alone, both Luffy and Law got so pissed off at the mere suggestion they needed to be saved. But there, Law was in need of save because seastone cuffs took all his powers, all his control over the situation. It was so easy to make fun of Heart captain, point out how powerless he was, complain about that. And some people would abuse the situation to laugh at Law. Zoro could say something along the line “be careful because Law can't fight”, yet he reprimanded Luffy without dragging Law into discussion. Without a fuss or making Trafalgar feel like a burden. Warning Luffy to be careful is similar to Punk Hazard's scene in the regard of demanding from the captain to not fool around and get the grip of himself. But unlike the previous arc, Zoro's demand was kept short, to the point. No speech how one mistake can cost them life - what was true in Dressrosa too.

Law didn't betray any reaction to Roronoa's words but I think there was a part of him that could feel glad for not humiliating him any more. He already had a hard time being carried like a sack of potatoes and forced to trust Straw Hats to not kill him in the process. He didn't need to be reminded how powerless he currently was.

Soon after that the Three Supernovas run into a crowd of citizens trying to capture Doflamingo's enemies. Zoro showed concern about them, not feeling right to cut desperate common people which Luffy agreed. Once again, Straw Hats proved how different they were from the majority of pirates. Law alone was okay to set Kaido after Doffy's head which in the long run would put the people of Dressrosa in harm's way.

Finally, the admiral Issho showed up - Zoro, due to previous movement of dodging an attack, didn't have time to change his position thus came at Luffy's left side. In that formation, Law was the least protected one which put Luffy at disadvantage as well.

Though Zoro was the character of lower status (the only non-captain Supernova and two stars on Doffy’s list in contrast to Luffy & Law’s three), it was Roronoa who actually fought the marine officer. What makes sense; he already had a chance to test Issho’s strength and was capable of freeing himself with a flying slash from gravity trap / attack while Law and Luffy couldn’t fight at full capability. Of course, manga only gave a small insight into their fight and the skirmish with the admiral was ultimately stopped by Pica's giant presence.

Of course, once Luffy heard the high pitched voice of a colossal enemy, he laughed like a maniac, despite Zoro’s (and enemy foot soldiers) warning.

Straw Hat’s reaction hit Pica’s berserk button to the point the man didn’t care if he killed members of his own Family or subordinates with his destructive attack (“It’s not even a punch anymore!! The town is falling on us”). Everyone could only run away as far as possible. While on the run, Zoro once again reprimanded his own captain. Or, at least, tried. Until he started laughing himself (chapter 748).

(Once again, the translation varies from one site to another; in some versions, Law told Luffy and Zoro “knock it off, you two…!!” or outright called them “you dipshits…!!”. Still, all three translations made it clear how unhappy Law was about the whole situation)

That moment is another breaking point of Law's impression about Zoro as the stoic, reasonable counter-balance to Luffy's madness. Because Roronoa wasn't any better than Monkey D. Luffy and that was the biggest "betrayal" to Trafalgar’s idea of what Pirate Hunter should be so far. Law was so, so disappointed in the angry way and he did not try to hide it.

Frankly, Law’s stoicism was put to the test the whole time and it was cracking under pressure more and more. Zoro and Luffy’s lack of self-preservation instinct definitely didn’t help at all.

Pica’s attack sent Supernova Trio flying far away from the palace, what allowed them to (sort of) catch a break. Zoro’s main focus was of course at the gigantic enemy, wondering how they could defeat him. His words weren’t directed at anyone in particular, but gave an opening for Law to join the discussion. In the past, Law shared his knowledge about powers of enemies and how they worked yet this time he had no advice to give. It may suggest that Trafalgar wasn’t that familiar with the true nature and weakness of Ishi Ishi no Mi (what makes sense, since Pica’s powers are strictly related to rock and his attacks too destructive to use them recklessly, so young Law may never truly see the true potential of Pica in fight. Also, Doflamingo did not mention Pica when he named those of Family Law learned fighting skills from nor Law’s flashback showed any closer interaction with the man).

Or maybe Law didn’t have enough time to recover to talk about strategy against Pica and once Candevish showed up, there were other matters to worry about right then. Especially since the man tried to kill Law on the spot who was saved only by Luffy’s quick reaction (though Zoro already had a sword in hand, once he noticed the non familiar face, so maybe all of them felt the ill intention coming off Cavendish?).

Through the whole discussion with the man, Zoro stayed silent, while Law was furious at both Luffy and Cavendish. Including Luffy’s declaration of them being friends.

Law denied it and frankly, after the whole “adventure” of almost dying time after time because of Monkey D. Luffy’s lack of common sense, no one can blame him for such rage and lost composure. Still, whatever Law said about his relationship with Straw Hat, Zoro was guarding him more than his own captain. What makes sense - right now Luffy didn’t have to carry Heart captain (thus in case of attack wasn’t burdened in any way) while Law was still powerless by seastone. Zoro didn’t sheathe the sword and stood behind Luffy, the same as Law. At least until Luffy’s former rival (enemy) didn’t declare to be sort of on the same side as them. Law once again was faced with Luffy’s insanity, when rubber-man admitted that food given to him by Rebecca was the main motivation for his actions. Through the whole meeting with Candevish, Zoro was the only one person in the group that did not piss off Law even a bit.

Luffy and Candevish had another argument (who is gonna beat Doflamingo), but this time Luffy decided to run away and leave the man to his delusional talk about popularity. The Supernovas Trio soon met another Luffy’s rivals from Colosseum: Happo Navy Gang, the giant Hajrudin, king Elizabello II & Dogma, Abdullah & Jet, admiral Olombus, Ideo, Slayman, Blue Gilly. All powerful in their own right, all feeling indebted to Usopp (Straw Hats) for breaking Sugar’s curse to the point every one of them decided to take Doffy’s head.

Luffy was not really happy to see his rivals showing up one after another, even less when none cared that he decided to personally kick Doflamingo’s ass. Zoro’s initial reaction was commenting “you know lots of weird people” but beyond that did not show any distress (unlike Luffy) while Law did not talk at all.

In the group of so many self-assured fighters arguing who will take down the enemy, only Roronoa seemed to not be affected by emotions and approached the matter with cold pragmatism. He proposed a compromise: all fighters backing them up but the proposition was shut down. Mainly because all had too big egos and were too stubborn. Including Luffy, to Law’s utter shock.

Here some interesting details:

↪ Zoro once again held a sword in a hand. What suggests he didn’t consider the meeting between pirate alliance and the colosseum fighters as the “safest”. At the same time, the sword stayed unsheathed so it wasn’t totally “hazardous” feeling either. Though the situation could quickly get out of control and turn into a fight no one really needed, Zoro gave the fighters a benefit of doubt.

↪ Despite the benefit of doubt, Zoro still changed the usual position from Luffy’s left side to his right. Once again, Law was put in the (safest) middle. The change happened quickly, with the (second rival) giant Hajrudin showing up. After meeting with the Happo Gang, Luffy already was ready to run away while Zoro did not betray any sign of worry. The framing makes it look like he went ahead to face the gigantic man just in case, thus putting himself between two captains and the possible enemy.

↪ Once again Zoro acted protective of other Supernovas without making a fuss about it.

↪ There is a visible difference between how Luffy and Zoro approached the subject of the argument. Through the few pages, from meeting Candevish to arguing with all colosseum fighters, Luffy kept saying he will kick Doflamingo’s ass - in contrast, Zoro said to other men “back up us” what sounds like he actually remembered about Trafalgar. Considering how personal taking down Doflamingo was to Law, being included despite the current state of powerlessness most likely alone made (again) a good impression. On other hand, Luffy from the start to the end was selfish in the sense he decided to kick Doffy’s ass on his own and outright dismissed the very thought that anyone else should do it. Surprisingly, somehow along the way, Straw Hat switched from “we will go to the palace to kick Doflamingo’s ass” (said to the crew at the beginning of battle) to “I’m gonna do that” without including even Zoro.

↪ There is something interesting in the fact that the bigger group around them, then Zoro and Law spoke less. Even more, when one spoke the other usually stayed silent through the conversation with the strangers. What could be seen with Cavendish (Law was screaming talking) and the bunch of colosseum fighters (Zoro’s solution to join the forces). In the case of Roronoa, it seems like a normal thing for him; the more unfamiliar people the bigger chance he will keep quiet and simply observe what is going on around. That of course does not mean he is shy or anything like that, just acts like an introvert. Law seems here to operate in a similar way. Though in contrast to Zoro (who occasionally was commenting on people's idiocy), to Trafalgar the whole situation was as much as ridiculous as overwhelming judging by his shocked face.

↪ Even if Law’s impression of Zoro cracked a bit due to his bad sense of direction and laughing with Luffy at dangerous enemy, when it mattered Roronoa A) didn’t lost his composure and was not influenced by emotions or personal pride and B) was reliable. In contrast, Law’s tolerance for all the chaos and absurdity (and one chaotic dumbass) was barely maintained the whole time.Trafalgar screamed in powerless(?) furypowerless fury(?) a lot and in general showed emotions in unusual manners. On Sabaody Archipelago and Punk Hazard, Zoro rarely couldhad a chance see Law so stressed and out of his depth. Dressrosa for the first time allowed him to see a different side of Law. In a way, Zoro finally had a chance to see (judge) what kind of man Trafalgar was once the control and devil fruit powers were taken away from him. He saw Law when he was vulnerable and it seems this shared experience builtin the long run built a solid ground between those two characters.

The argument between Luffy and gladiators was temporarily stopped by enemy attack. After that all of them rushed after Doffy’s head. Luffy met a befriended in colosseum bull and on his back rode alongside Zoro and Law. Since the situation became more dangerous, Law permanently ended between the Straw Hats, with Luffy defending the front while Zoro secured the rear.

During the run to the palace, King Elizabello and Chinjao stopped Pica’s attack and destroyed his stone arm but no true damage was done to the enemy. Zoro then advised the men to not waste energy until they figure out how Pica’s powers work and for now, just run (chapter 749).

Surprisingly, the fighters that not so long ago were all about their pride and ego listened to Luffy’s subordinate while still arguing with Straw Hat himself who should defeat Doflamingo and calling him the “stupid savior”. Through their journey, Law didn’t say any useful information about Pica nor shared any observations that might help in the fight, despite being to some degree familiar with Pica and pretty smart to analyze other people’s fighting styles.

Frankly, Zoro was the only one sharing aloud his observations with his captain (and Law?) after Luffy hit the enemy with a powerful, yet fruitless attack. Because of that, it seems like Pirate Hunter so far had the best understanding of stone giant’s powers.

Soon after that Pica finally showed up his true body. Up to this moment, Roronoa was more or less neutral about the whole chaos around him and now had his killer smile (that Law most likely couldn't see but could pick up the predatory tone from Zoro’s voice) due to upcoming fight with a strong opponent.

Law’s reaction was not shown at all, but once again he experienced Zoro’s insanity; the thrill of deadly fight, instead of worry about danger. Dressrosa, like Sabaody Archipelago and Punk Hazard arcs, confirm Pirate Hunter’s lust for battle. Another thing is the complete trust between Straw Hat Supernovas - Luffy avoided Pica’s attack (saving everyone in the process) and was just like “I’ll keep going ahead” while Zoro took on himself stopping Pica for good.

Like fighting a tricky devil fruit user is no big deal. Even insulted Pica by calling him “a pebble” and “Soprano singer” while knowing full well how sensitive the man was to such words - what Law may or may not heard before he and Luffy get too far away.

The next part: Birdcage, Pica & Doflamingo

#one piece #roronoa zoro #trafalgar law #The development of Law’s relationship with Zoro #monkey d. luffy #pica #colosseum fighters #dressrosa arc #my analyze #the best part of the arc when it comes to zoro and law during battle #zoro & law

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chanbangblog · 5 years ago

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ive only felt religion when ive lied with you- 1

A/N: (smut, Chan x reader, Canon compliant, fan/idol)

The sun peeped in at you through the small slit in the curtains. Your eyes fluttered open and then closed again. You laid there in a beautiful mix of sleep and awake when suddenly you realized you were late for work. You sat up and became perplexed at your surroundings, this was definitely not your room.

Wait, where am I… you started to wonder.

You looked over to see Robyn lying next to you, still asleep looking quite peaceful and hugging her Chimmy plushie. Then you realized you weren’t at home, and this wasn’t just any day, this was the day you were going to meet Stray Kids.

Your heart began to speed up at your sudden realization. You looked around the room and empty cans of hard cider littered the bedside table. Last night’s pad Thai was sitting on the dresser, probably harboring god knows how many bacteria after sitting out at room temperature all night. You felt a tinge of nausea at the thought of it, or any food for that matter.

Oh god. Am I going to be able to eat today? I have to eat, I’ll never be able to stand in line and make it through the concert if I don’t eat. Let alone have the strength to survive MEETING THEM at hi-touch.

You pushed your hair behind your ears, closed your eyes and focused on your breathing.

Not today, anxiety. It’s too early for this bullshit.

Your therapist had taught you to talk to your anxiety like it was a person. Speaking of him, God bless that man for listening to you over the past several months preparing for this day. You had drilled him for an endless amount of coping mechanisms in order make sure that you, quite literally, didn’t faint when you met the nine boys who seemingly occupied your every thought.

You rolled out of bed as cautiously as you could, so you didn’t wake Robyn. You walked to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Your hair was stuck to the side of your head and you had sleep still in the corners of your eyes. You decided to take a shower and think about what to have for breakfast.

The hot water beat into your skin and steam began to fill the bathroom. You inhaled deeply. Trying to focus on the present and not psych yourself out about the night ahead.

You’re just giving them a high five. Hundreds of fans will get to do the same. They definitely won’t remember you, you’ll blend in with the millions of other girls who are desperately in love with them.

This thought calms you for a moment. Being rational in situations of stress wasn’t particularly your strong suit, so you were happy with this little victory.

When you got out of the shower you checked your phone. You had several notifications from Instagram from realstraykids. Hyunjin was posting selfies and talking about being excited for the concert tonight. Swiping through the pictures he took with other members, Chris got your attention. His hair was a golden blonde and was starting to grow so long, it looked like a borderline mullet with the way it was styled.

“Chris with a mullet steals my soul!!!!” you commented on the picture and then put your phone away.

You walked back into the room and Robyn was awake. You took one look at her and burst into the most high pitched squeal you could manage.

Well. Being calm was nice while it lasted.

“Good god, y/n. Are you gonna be like this all day?” Robyn asked, already looking done with your shit.

Robyn didn’t originally stan Stray Kids. You introduced them to her after you got the tickets. You had been to kpop concerts with her in the past so she seemed like the obvious choice to go with you. You had invited Robyn over a couple months ago and had a “hard intro to Stray Kids” Youtube watching session. Which had included videos like “stray kids on crack” and “a super shitty and unhelpful guide to stray kids.” She eventually chose two biases, Minho and Jisung. When she had told you later that night you were overjoyed because you had predicted who she would bias.

“NO WAY!!!!” you had screeched, “I texted my friend earlier and predicted you would bias them! Just so I could show you when I was right!”

What could you say, you love Robyn, but she has a certain type that always wrecks her. Pretty baby faces and strong vocals. You couldn’t blame her though, they were both an excellent choice.

You snapped back to the present.

“Uh no. I’m calm, I just, uh… yeah I’m gonna be like this all day.” You confessed.

Thank God I have a friend brave enough to put up with me.

The morning went by faster than you thought it would. You all ordered breakfast and spent the morning watching Jinyoung’s new kdrama. You wanted to get to the venue early-ish because even though you had good tickets, you were still GA and didn’t want to be shoved completely to the back of your section.

You had spent months picking the perfect outfit that you would feel confident in to meet them. It was May so you weren’t sure about the weather, but you decided to bank on it being hot outside. You chose a sleeveless shirt that was metallic gold, with a bow that tied around the front and buttoned down. You had also chosen a skort set that looked like a black mini-skirt but actually had shorts underneath and low-top combat boots to complete the look. You curled your hair and tried to give it as much volume as possible. Not that it would matter, you knew it would be matted to your head with sweat by the end of the concert. But hey, you gotta look good for the pics for the ‘gram, right?

You arrived at the venue and was baking outside under the morning sun, it was sweltering, you didn’t expect this for May. Your skin was baking under the late spring sun. You definitely had a sunburn and had only been in line for an hour.

Why on Earth did I wear a tank top...I’m not gonna be able to raise my arm to high five them without the smell knocking them down!

Suddenly an image of Jeongin falling backward at the smell of your body odor made you laugh out loud. You could see the headlines now, “kpop fangirl’s body odor causes singer to faint.” I mean, it would be hilarious, mortifying, but hilarious.

The concert was a blur, as always. You sang along to all the words you knew and your voice felt hoarse towards the end. You couldn’t believe how close you were to them. The venue was much smaller than you had anticipated. The light was shining off of them and their sweat made them glisten. You were so close you could see their muscles rippling under their denim when they danced.

Felix began talking to the fans about how much he loves us and wants to keep performing well for us. Felix and Changbin are my biases so I was completely engulfed in his cute Aussie accent being spoken 40 feet from me. It was almost too much. The members were fanned out across the stage while he talked and Chris drifted over to the side I was on. The girls and boys around me went wild trying to speak to him but he probably couldn’t hear them.

Rude. My baby Felix is having a moment and y’all are acting like idiots trying to talk over him.

Robyn elbowed me hard in the rib.

“Y/n,” she breathed, “Chris is staring in our direction.”

You looked over and locked eyes with him. You froze. You always thought you knew what you would do if you came face to face with one of your idols. But you were wrong. You didn’t feel the way you had predicted at all. You thought your knees would buckle. You thought you would scream or perhaps cry. But you didn’t. You couldn’t describe the feeling that came over you under his gaze. You couldn’t describe it other than feeling totally confident and empowered for the first time in a long time. You realized you needed to react before he looked away so you winked and attempted to look sexy. Then he raised an eyebrow at you, kept your gaze and went back to get in line for the next song.

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT! WHY DID I WINK? WHO DOES THAT OH MY GOD.

You were going though it inside and Robyn could tell.

“Um, what was that?? Girl, you just had an interaction with him!” Robyn whispered in your ear.

You looked around and none of the concert-goers around you seemed to notice. No one was looking at you. You began to wonder if you imagined it. Your cheeks were burning a fiery red and your stomach felt like it was being assaulted with a swarm of butterflies.

How am I going to face him at hi-touch after that?? God y/n you were supposed to try to blend in.

You told your inner voice to fuck off, just like your therapist had taught you. But the rest of the concert, you couldn’t keep your eyes off Chris.

You were standing in line for hi-touch and your knees were buckling. You felt like your entire body was on edge and your insides were being electrocuted.

“You’re going to pass out if you keep holding your breath, y/n.” Robyn quietly reminded you. You suddenly realized you had been holding your breath.

“How did I get here? Maybe we should just run.” You said in a panicked voice.

Robyn looked you up and down like you had just spoken another language.

“Y/n, we’re not being marched to our deaths, we’re meeting this band that you have been obsessing over for months! Get it together! Breathe!” Robyn said while starting to shake you.

She’s right. What the hell is wrong with you. You paid so much money for these tickets and your bank account is still recovering. You’re doing this.

The line was starting to move faster than you would like. You got closer and closer to where you knew the boys were standing. You saw them in the distance and suddenly realized how tall they were in real life. You should’ve anticipated this since you already knew you were shorter than the shortest member.

They’re just people. They’re just boys. You talk to boys all the time.

You started to calm down. Until you locked eyes with Chris in the distance.

What was it about his gaze that made you take on a totally different attitude and mindset? Five seconds earlier you were contemplating running again. Now it felt like all of Earth’s gravity was holding you here in this one spot, like this was the only place you were ever supposed to be at this moment in time. You felt confident under his gaze, you felt bold.

You’re still not sure what possessed you, but you broke the gaze to start searching through your purse. You found a receipt and quickly ripped a small piece of the end. The line was moving and you were forced to walk while ransacking your purse. You finally found a pen. You tried to be as nonchalant as you could so you didn’t attract attention from other fans.

As sneakily as you could, you quickly scribbled: Kakao y/n0325.

Good god, why did I put their debut date in my name on there…I’m such a psycho. That’s so embarrassing.

But you didn’t have time to ponder on that because it was almost your turn. You didn’t have a plan. You didn’t know how you were going to get this to him without being noticed, but you did know that it felt right and you wanted to do it. Chris was the last member in the lineup.

Woojin was first. You had already planned out what you were going to say to each of them. You got up to him and his chocolate brown hair was gleaming in the fluorescence. Your hands met and you felt your mind go blank, he was smiling at you as you grappled with your words in your head.

“YOUR VOICE IS LIKE HONEY,” you blurted out, half-yelling at the poor man.

He just laughed and said thank you as you moved on.

Minho was looking at you smiling with his hand up. You didn’t struggle as long with finding words this time.

“I’m so proud of you, I love you to death,” You said as you passed by.

He laughed and said thank you in the cutest accent you’ve ever heard.

Changbin was next. Your bias, which made your thoughts become even more erratic than they had been before. You just started smiling uncontrollably and said “Hiiiiii, I love you Changbinnie” and he looked back at you fondly and said he loved you too.

You were face to face with Hyunjin before you realized it and my, was he good looking, it was like an angel was literally standing in front of you.

“You’re even cuter in person,” you said as fast as you could while touching hands with him. He just laughed and nodded in response.

You couldn’t think of anything else, your mind was at overload when you met Felix, Jisung, Jeongin and Seungmin. So you just told them you loved them as fast and as many times as you could.

When you got to Chris, you finally looked up at him and felt a shiver rip through your core. Your heart felt like it had dropped into your stomach. You felt like you were in an elevator that was falling down with reckless abandon. You raised your right hand up to give him a high five. Your hand was empty. But at the last second you switched and raised your left hand up as quickly as you could and the piece of paper was between your hands. You moved your hand slightly so he could feel it and finally spoke.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, but this just isn’t long enough.” You said with all the confidence you could muster.

His eyes sparked as he realized what you were doing. He moved his hand and quickly closed it and put it in his pocket.

“Oh yes, I agree,” he said, very coolly with that unmistakable smile that he always shows the world. The smile that you had become so fond of over the last several months. The smile that gave fans hope all around the world and now, at this moment, he was smiling because of you.

For the second time that night, Robyn looked at you in disbelief as you rounded the corner in the hall way exiting the venue.

“Y/n, you’re the smoothest human alive,” she said with a shocked expression on her face.

You suddenly busted into cackling laughter. It overwhelmed you and wracked your body. Bubbling up from your core. You couldn’t control it. You’re sure you were unnerving everyone near you with your maniacal laughter. Everyone knows, nothing comes good after maniacal laughter. You laughed until your abdominal muscles ached, and tears were spilling down your cheeks.

“That was the best time of my life,” you said in between bouts of laughter.

Robyn started laughing too and you two called a cab to head back to your hotel.

You tried not to dwell on your interaction with Chris. He had been nice and a bit flirty, but he was like that with all Stays. You had watched countless youtube compilations of your idols flirting with fans. It was normal. It was nothing special. That’s what you told yourself when you arrived back in your hotel room and your heart was still fluttering in your chest, refusing to return to its normal pace.

Hey, I’m going at my own pace, Chris would at least be proud of that.

You suddenly started laughing again at your own thoughts and told Robyn you were getting in the shower. She was probably very thankful for this, after the events of the day and the copious amounts of sweat you had shed. You turned on your slow kpop playlist and once again let the steam fill up the room while the water beat down on you. You put your head up against the tile wall of the shower and let the water envelop you.

I had an interaction with Chris. Fans have interactions with their idols all the time at concerts. He was very charismatic, you already knew that. Stop overthinking it and just be happy you made these memories with them, y/n.

Your heart rate began to slow and you focused on the water and the steady hum the shower made. Tomorrow you and Robyn were going into the city and it was going to be a good day. You were going to have a good day with your friend and recount concert memories. Life was good.

You stepped out of the shower and grabbed your phone to turn off the playlist. Butterfly by BTS was playing and you were about to sing along for a few words when you checked your notifications.

You had a few comments on your Instagram posts but your eyes glazed over when you saw what was next.

A notification from Kakao, a notification from none other than Christopher Bang himself.

#bang chan x reader #skz smut #skz fics #stray kids smut #stray kids fics #bang chan fic #bang chan smut

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whumptasticwednesday · 5 years ago

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The Mind Of A Mutt (Hunger Games - Mockingjay)

Alright guys, As promised, Whumptastic Wednesday has returned.

Just some background, this fanfic takes place during Mocking Jay Part One. I do reference some stuff from the books that weren't in the movie, so if you haven't read the books and you are confused, then read the damn books because they are incredible (AND VERY WHUMPY!!!) That’s all for now. Please enjoy, and don’t forget to give me some feedback. I would love to know what you guys think.

-Jimmy

Word Count- 2,299

Warings- violence

The cold floor of the cell sends goosebumps crawling up my arms. My hairs stand on edge, and every couple seconds my whole body twitches. The tracker jacker venom runs thick through my veins from the last "session." That's what they call them: President Snow and his team of doctors and nurses. Their only objective is to keep me alive long enough to torture me, to damage my brain and fill my head with artificial memories meant to brake me. Day in and day out, they show me pictures of Katniss, her voice rings through my head as they beat me. I have violent hallucinations of her doing unspeakable things to me. I feel every second of it. Why can't they kill me? Send my conscious mind into a desolate never-ending state of nothingness, because that's too easy. Nothing in the capital is easy. That's why twenty-four kids are sent to the Hunger Games every year. Because somewhere in Snow's sick distorted perception of reality, watching kids slaughter each other and celebrating the victors whos lives will be forever plagued with nightmares and flashbacks, is the only way to keep the districts in line. The only way to hold off the rebellion. Well, not anymore.

Katniss is the rebellion, the Mockingjay, and President Coin has got her. She's the reason I'm tortured in a cell in the capital. Katniss is the rebellions weapon, and I'm the capitals weapon. The only difference is never-ending suffering experienced by those saved by the capital. They are turning me into a Mutt, wearing me down little by little till I snap. Until my mind reaches depths of madness incomprehensible by a sain human. This issue is, it's working. Every day I feel my self becoming angrier and angrier. With every injection, every beating, every drop of my blood spilt, my anger grows. I can feel it festering in the back of my mind.

I try to sit up, but my arms feel week and numb. My vision begins to look fuzzy, and my eyelids feel heavy. The black polished shoes of President Snow standing in front of me is the last thing I can remember before I finally let my eye's close. In seconds I'm overtaken by sleep.

I inhale sharply as my eye's shoot open. Where am I? How long was I out? My breathing quickens as I try to move. My arms and legs are strapped into a chair. My heart begins to rase in my chest as I thrash violently, trying to escape.

"Don't struggle," I shoot my head up. President Snow is standing in front of me, two doctors wearing all white at his side. "You will only make it worse."

I grit my teeth. I've been here before. I know what's going to happen. I'm so tired, so fucking tired.

"Please." I plea, hot tears well up in my eyes. "Please, not again. I can't take this anymore." My voice cracks as I look up at President Snow. His cold face is unnerving. His dead stare sends a shiver down my spine. He nods, signaling to the doctors that its time. The doctors in their clean white coats approach me. I close my eye's, hoping that maybe if I think hard enough, this might all have just been a bad dream. I could wake up in a cold sweat, next to Katniss in our house in the victor's village. We could spend the morning talking about my nightmare like we always do when one of us has a distressing dream.

The prick of the IV being inserted into my arms knocks me back to reality. Reminds me that I'm not in my bed, I'm strapped to a chair in the capital, and I'm definitely not dreaming. I hold my breath as a cold liquid fills my veins. Suddenly my head feels like it's a thousand pounds. I let gravity do the work as my head goes limp against my chest. All at once, my ears begin to ring, louder, and louder, and louder. I squeeze my eyes shut. I think my eardrums might burst. I bring my knees to my chest and my hands to my ears, my throat letting out a blood-curdling scream. As abruptly as it began, it was over. Replaced with a silence that's equally as uncomfortable. I open my eyes, my arms and legs are free, I'm not in the capital anymore, I'm in the cave, from the first games. I prop my self up on my elbows; I look down, my wound is as bad as ever. Blood and pus seep out of the jagged cut — my whole body aches. Sweat drips down my face, and I have to bite my lip to stop from screaming.

"K-Katness," I pant, the pain is worse than the first time I experienced it. "Katn-ness, p-p-please!" I call out, where is she? Why isn't she here with me? Abruptly she appears beside me.

"I've brought you a treat. I found a patch of berries a little farther downstream" she says, brushing the hair from out of my face. Not again, I am not falling for this trick again. Katniss brings a spoonful of the mashed berries up to my mouth. This time they look different. Not red, and they don't smell like the sleeping syrup my mom used to give me. The mash is jet black. NightLock. Katniss is trying to kill me. I back away, dragging the lower half of my body with my arms. A malignant smile creeps onto Katness' face as she traps my neck under her arm. I choke and scream, trying to kick her off of me.

"Shhhhhhh, it will be over before you know it," She whispers, prying my jaw open like its nothing. I cringe as the sour taste of the nightlock berries hit my tongue. I heave as Katniss lifts her arm from off my throat. My relief is short-lived as she instantaneously clamps her hand over my mouth and plugs my nose. "This doesn't have to be difficult. One swallow. One swallow and all this pain will be over."

Nightlock, dead before it even hits your stomach, I remember. I fight underneath her. My lungs burn; they are screaming at me for oxygen. Black spots start the cloud my vision. I'm going to die. Whether that's from asphyxiation, or nightlock was my choice. I finally give in. My throat burns as I swallow. Katniss releases her hands from over my mouse and nose, and I gag and choke. My limbs start to feel heavy; the world around me begins to spin. I can see Katniss mouthing words to me. Why can't I hear her? I can feel her brush my hair out of my face. The pain I once felt begins to splinter away into a raw numbness. Soon the only thing I can discern is my heartbeat. Slow and unnatural. Like the heartbeat of a mutt.

Catching me off guard, the pounding in my ears begins to quicken. As I come back to my senses, I can hear my self gasping for breath. My vision returns soon after my hearing. I see the world speeding past me. More specifically, I see trees speeding past as I sprint through the forest. I feel like I'm not in control of my body. My lungs are on fire, and my muscles feel like they are threatening to snap. But I keep running. Suddenly my head shoots backward, and I know all too well what I'm running from. Mutts. A huge wolf-like creature is sprinting close behind me. But there is something different. I remember the mutts who chased after me in the first games. How could I forget? But this wolf was different, but at the same time... familiar. The smooth brown coat and piercing stern green eyes were all I had to see. This mutt was Katniss. Similar to the wolfs the capital made from the dead tributes in the first games. Katniss was hunting me. And I bet anything, that one stumble, and she wouldn't hesitate to rip me limb from limb. The forest floor becomes a minefield of sticks, rocks, and other things I can't identify given my current situation, but would undoubtedly lead to my inevitable demise if I were unable to avoid them. I feel in control of my body again. The first thing I notice is that the adrenaline that kept me running fast enough to stay ahead of the mutt has warn off. I'm starting to fall behind. Humans weren't built for this kind of physical exertion — my whole body cramps with every wheeze of my exasperated lungs. I feel my eyes begin to roll back into my head. My brain feels like static. Any minute my body is going betray me. I'm knocked back to reality as my foot gets caught on a rock, sending me tumbling down the steep hill. A scream tears through me as the mutt's teeth sink into my leg, dragging me down the hill. Blood smears the dirt behind me as the wolf finally slows down, stopping in the middle of the forest. Pained sobs erupt from deep within my chest. I scream through clenched teeth as the mutt's jaw opens, releasing teeth that were buried deep within my leg. Without warning, it lunges at me, teeth showing, ropes of drool cascading down its chin. I hear a sickening crunch as it jumps on me with all its weight. Hot tears spill down my cheeks as blood bubbles up my throat, leaking out my mouth. I kick and thrash, trying to release my self from under its weight, but I'm too weak. It snarls and snaps at me. I put up my arms in defense, trying to cover my face. Within minutes, my arms are a blood bath. Full of bite marks and cuts. I wail as the rabid dog rips me to pieces. I begin to lose feeling in my limbs, and my vision starts wavering in and out. I'm too weak to defend my self. Deep lacerations scatter my body. It's Tearing into me like I'm nothing but it's next meal. All the while, I stare into its eyes. Katniss' eyes. I feel my mind begin to deteriorate. Please end this. Please end me. I can't take this anymore. My body slowly slips into an empty numbness; this feeling isn't new. This is how most of my hallucinations end, with a numb body and a broken mind. My vision abandoned me a long while ago. Leaving me alone with my thoughts. It's hard to describe how I feel in these moments. When my body is numb and my brain has shut off anyway for me to identify where I am or what's going to happen next. My mind is in such a drug-induced haze; it's forgotten how to perceive the world around me. My eye suddenly shift as sporadic visions of Katniss and Gale flash into my brain. No, please, no. Like my own private movie under my eyelids, I watch Katniss and Gale laughing and smiling as they touch each other in a lust-filled haze. Please make it stop. Every touch, every kiss, fuels a fire buried deep within me. I can feel jealousy brewing in the pit of my stomach. This isn't real. I try to distract my mind, but the hallucinations win every time. I can't stop them. They start to get faster, flashing in and out of my mind like strobe lights. I see visions of my mom, of my family. Of the bombing of District Twelve. I watch as bombs rip them apart — peacekeepers making sure to put a bullet in the heads of anyone who survived the initial explosion. I feel sick to my stomach. My brain is moving at a mile a minute. This isn't real. I repeat it over and over in my mind. Start simple; start with what you know is true. My name is Peeta Malark. My home is District Twelve. I was in the Hunger Games. Katniss was saved. I was left behind.

My eye's open. Fluorescent lights blind me. Where am I. My arms and legs aren't strapped down? I look down; I'm wearing a clean white hospital gown. I look up. A group of people wearing gray jumpsuits are conversing around a clipboard. District thirteen is written on the back. I'm not in the capital anymore. They saved me.

"Should we bring her in?"

Their voices are muffled; I can almost make out what they're saying.

"Are you sure he's ready?"

My head begins to pound, and I lay back down on the bed. Coving my eye's with my hands, taking deep breaths. I'm processing a lot right now. I feel adrift of cool air as the door to the room opens. Looking up, suddenly im staring into those familiar green eye's. I feel my chest begin to swell with anger. My mind flashes back to everything that happened to me in the capital. All the pain I endured. All that emotion, all that damage, it's all because of Katniss. I looked into her eye's as she stabbed me, kicked me, mauled me, drugged me, burned me, killed me. I let my anger control me as I lurch forward, grabbing her by the neck and slamming her down onto the porcelain floor. The look of shock and horror spreading across her face only makes my desire to watch the life drain from her powerless body grow. Hot tears stream down my face. I don't want to kill her. But the resentment I feel needs an outlet. I don't know how to stop it. The need to strangle her feels compulsive. Just a side-effect of a damaged mind. The mind of the capitals weapon. The mind of a Mutt.

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sensationalscenarios · 5 years ago

Text

Sleeping Dogs: Chapter IV

AU: Based on my SF9 as Mafia au found here

Chapter Four TWs include: N/A.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: hello i know its been well over a year since i’ve updated sleeping dogs but things got hectic and well, i graduated from university! now i just work full time so i should have more time to write hopefully.

i never forgot about sleeping dogs though, and i dont think i would ever be able to fully abandon it either. i dont know if anyone still even remembers this story but if you do, thank you for supporting it and thank you for waiting. it truly means more than anything to have others enjoy my sf9 mafia verse.

so without further ado: sleeping dogs ch 4; as always any and all feedback is welcomed!

+ admin L

III | V

iv. liar

Octagon is the hottest club in Seoul, situated in the cultural hub of Gangnam-gu, and the heart of Seven Star’s territory. The three story club offered a dance floor and entertainment hall on the main floor, three bars, an open kitchen, mezzanine private VIP bunkers, a VIP lounge, a second stage lounge, silent room, a swimming pool and women's powder room. While most building spaces in Seoul were small and cramped, Octagon was a spacious club, and despite only being open Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, provided a hefty profit for Namjoon and his boys.

As Youngbin walked through the club, he felt himself falling into the rhythm of the music and lights. All around him people moved in a hypnotic state, laughter bubbling from their chests as their drinks sloshed around in their cups. Youngbin often forgot how powerful Seven Star were, given he was always occupied by his own business, but he was happy knowing Namjoon was doing well, that he was able to succeed thus far. Weaving through the crowd, Youngbin led Inseong and Dawon up the stairs to one of the VIP bunkers where Namjoon was waiting for them. The bunker of choice was separated from the others, in a corner that overlooked the octagon shaped hole, which provided the perfect view of the main floor of the club. Two guards stood outside, merely nodding as one held the door open for them. Inside a white, wrap around couch lined the walls, with a table in the center. The members of Seven Star were situated on the couch, their glasses all filled with varying alcoholic beverages. Their exterior reflected nothing but the attitudes of calm professionals, yet from the way in which they grasped their drinks, Youngbin knew there was nothing but anger bubbling beneath their skin.

“Where’s the rest of your boys?” Namjoon asked, eyebrow raised as Youngbin, Inseong, and Dawon sat in the chairs across from him.

“They got caught up at Syndrome so unfortunately they won’t be able to join us. They’re working on finding answers to our problem right now.” Youngbin replied, hyper aware of the rest of Seven Star’s eyes on him. It was risky, bringing only Inseong and Dawon here, but Youngbin knew Namjoon would never summon him like this if it weren’t dire.

“Seulbi dear, why don’t you bring some refreshments for our guests? I’m sure they could use a drink as well. Mr. Lee and Mr. Yoo, the two of you may wait outside with the other guards. This is to be a private conversation between us and the Red Dragons. Do not let anyone disturb us. Understood?” A striking young man ordered as he straightened up in his seat beside Namjoon. Kim Seokjin, as Youngbin knew, was the son of one of the most influential couples in all of Korea. A family with so much power that even the police dared not question them. Octagon had been a gift from Seokjin’s parents to him, allowing him the freedom of running his own business. How much they knew about his activities with Seven Star Youngbin didn’t know. Seokjin acted as Namjoon’s second in command, much like what Inseong did for Youngbin.

“Any weapons on you?” Yoongi asked, wary as he observed the three of them. Youngbin always felt pity when he looked at the other, knowing full well that it was his actions which divided Yoongi and Juho. He knew that was who the former was looking for when they first walked in.

“Just our pistols. We left the rest of our toys at home unfortunately.” Dawon replied.

“If you’re lying, I’ll put a bullet through your head myself.” Taehyung spat.

“Please, as if you could draw your gun faster than me.” Dawon scoffed, arms crossed as he glared at the other. There was a certain rivalry between the two, which Youngbin attributed to their skills as snipers.

“You wanna bet you piece of sh-”

“Boys!” Namjoon and Youngbin called out in unison. Both Dawon and Taehyung closed their mouths, sitting back in their seats and seemingly sulking. They would’ve been great friends, Youngbin was sure, if the circumstances were different.

“This is not the time for your petty disagreements, we have a serious matter to discuss.” Namjoon sighed, before looking at Youngbin. “As I side over the phone, there’s been another murder on our territory this time. One of our runners. He was a good kid Youngbin, a good, loyal kid.”

“I’m so sorry to hear about his passing. I...I didn’t think this man would strike again so soon, and at you guys no less.” Youngbin said.

“Yeomna.” Namjoon said. “That’s what the man calls himself.”

“He gave you a name?!” Inseong pulled out his laptop from his bag, typing rapidly on his keyboard.

“Yeah, gave us a friendly phone call and said if we didn’t join his game someone else is going to die soon.” Yoongi replied grimly.

“Just like the call we got. Interesting.” Inseong looked up from his laptop. “So, I didn’t find anything in police records that matched Yeomna meaning they have no idea a new serial killer is out there. However, I looked up the origin for the word and it means ‘The God of Death’. Whoever we’re dealing with has picked quite a name for himself. Yeomna is said to judge the dead and rule over the afterlife, punishing souls for their wrongdoings in life.”

“So you’re saying we’re dealing with a lunatic playing God? Fucking hell.” Yoongi muttered.

“I think we’re dealing with an entire group. The night when Yeomna called us, our boys were all being watched at three different locations at nearly the same time. We thought it might have been a low tier gang trying to rank up in the Underground but I don’t know. Now I feel like they’re connected. I mean think about it, there’s no way one person could orchestrate this entire thing right? He must have others working behind the scenes and if so, what worries me is that Yeomna might not be the one in control.” Inseong rubbed his chin thoughtfully, before diving into police records one more time.

Silence settled over everyone as the gravity of Inseong’s words hit them. Youngbin hadn’t thought about the possibility of someone higher up pulling all the strings from the shadows, and it made him wonder if they had been watched this entire time. The sudden realization that his boys were scattered hit him like a wall of bricks and he shot up in his seat. “Inseong get Juho and Chani on the line, check in with everyone and make sure they’re alright. Check the cameras outside our home and Syndrome and see if any of those guys are watching them again. Namjoon-”

“On it.” Namjoon cut him off before he could finish, motioning for Seulbi, who had just returned with drinks. The latter quickly set the glasses down, before moving to a side compartment in the room, pulling out a laptop from it. She handed it to Namjoon, and bowed, before exiting the room once more. Namjoon typed just as quickly as Inseong, bringing up footage from all the cameras in Octagon.

Youngbin held his breath as he watched Namjoon’s face, heart racing as he noticed the other’s change in expression. “They’re here aren’t they?”

Namjoon nodded. “We can’t tip them off that we know though. This could be our only chance to get information. We need a game plan and quick.”

“The way I see it we have two options: either we...question one of them, or we slip a tracker on one of them. Personally, I think we’d benefit more from the second option.” Yoongi said.

“Well, that route’s not as fun but you make a valid point good sir.” Dawon leaned back in his seat. “So which one of you is going to do it?”

“Pfft, lazy piece of shit.” Taehyung grumbled.

“Listen jackass, there’s a chance they don’t know that Youngbin, Inseong, and I are here. As far as Yeomna knows, and everyone else for that matter, the Red Dragons and Seven Star are still at each other's throats. I think it’d be in both of our best interests that it stays that way.”

“Dawon’s right. It’s better if no one knows about our...temporary alliance. Besides if word spread in the Underground about this we’ll only have more problems.” Namjoon rubbed his temples. “Jimin you’re up.”

“Sure. I like the easy stuff.” Jimin shrugged, setting his wine glass down on the table as he got up. Namjoon signaled to Seulbi, who brought over a case from another one of the drawers in the room. Two soft clicks were heard before Namjoon opened it, revealing an assortment of devices. He removed a USB and a small, circular piece of metal, about half the size of a penny. Plugging the USB into his laptop, he tossed the small device towards Jimin, who caught it effortlessly. The two of them turned on their bluetooth earpieces, testing the connection twice.

Straightening his clothes, Jimin left the room and made his way downstairs to mingle. All eyes in the room turned towards the security cameras, watching as Jimin weaved his way among the clubbers. Occasionally he would stop and greet a few regulars, hugging some and directing others to the bar. He ordered a couple of drinks, and situated himself with his back facing the counter. Resting his head in one hand, he casually sipped his drink, smiling at girls who looked his way. All in all Jimin looked as relaxed as anyone could.

“There’s a guy in the room to your left. When you walk he’s going to be on the right hand side. His back is turned so that’s as good of a chance as you’ll get.” Namjoon said.

Without responding, Jimin got up from his seat and made his way towards the designated room. Once inside Jimin glances to his right as he takes another sip. It’s now or never. He takes a step towards the man, before “stumbling” forward. The drink in his hand spills over the other, who jumps and spins around, just as Jimin is falling forward. Jimin’s giggling, though the others in the room can’t hear him, and he starts apologizing to the man quite dramatically. The man tries to help Jimin regain his balance, as the latter clings on, saying absurd things.

“You might want to lay off the alcohol kid.” The man said.

“I’m sooo sorry mister.” Jimin giggled again, arms still wrapped around the other’s shoulders for support. “I’ll be juuuust fine. Don’t you worry. Byeee.”

Jimin stumbles out of the room, and for a moment, the man contemplates following the boy, but shrugs off the idea once his body disappears into the intoxicated crowd. Instead, the man pulls out his phone, typing a quick text as he makes his way towards the exit.

“Alright he’s leaving, you can come back up.” Namjoon grinned. “Nice acting.”

“I try my best.” Jimin replied.

Youngbin was quite impressed to say the least. If he hadn’t known better he would’ve thought the kid was completely shitfaced. He hadn’t even noticed whether or not the boy had successfully slipped the tracker onto the guy.

Within moments Jimin slips back into the room and into his previous spot, picking up his wine glass as if nothing had happened. “Well I slipped it under his collar. It’s ready to go.”

“Alright, let’s see what we can get.” Namjoon brought up a screen filled with oscillating waves as the tracker picked up various sounds from the streets outside. “Inseong can you get us visuals while I work with the audio.”

“Sure.” Inseong typed quickly, his laptop splitting into four screens, each with a different view of the street. The cameras changed every minute or so as he hacked one camera after another, doing his best to follow the man’s movements. There were two others with him, and they appeared to be whispering amongst one another.

Namjoon pressed a few keys on his laptop, trying his best to isolate their voices only. After a moment or two, he was finally able to enhance the portion of audio that he wanted, and he turned the volume up so that everyone could hear what was being said.

“...at Syndrome. Kang Chanhee isn’t with them. We need to find the kid.”

“There were only three of them at Syndrome. The rest could all be together, we might not be able to separate the kid from them.”

“Well we gotta think of something, otherwise Boss won’t be happy.”

“Dawon call the others. Now.” Youngbin said, fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

Just as Dawon was about to call Rowoon, the sound of Youngbin’s phone rang through the room. Pulling the device out of his pocket, Youngbin frowned at the unknown number. “It’s him. It’s Yeomna.”

Setting the phone down on the table, he answered, tapping the speaker button. “Hello?”

“Hello again, Kim Youngbin.”

“What the hell do you want now?”

“Ah, straight to the point I see. I was merely wondering if you’ve spoken with Seven Star recently. I hear they have suffered a tragic loss.”

“You should know we don’t fuck with Seven Star.”

“I disagree. You and Namjoon seem to have quite the past. Very messy indeed.” Yeomna tsked. “Two once dear friends, nearly inseparable, were at war with each other. But now it seems as if the two of you have set aside your differences for the time being.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Namjoon and I have nothing to do with each other anymore.” Youngbin glanced over at Namjoon, who seemed just as concerned as he is.

“You can’t lie to me. I know you’re working together. I know he must’ve told you my name. In fact, I even know you’re with him right now. Am I wrong, Kim Namjoon?”

Youngbin shook his head at the other, urging him not to speak. The latter nodded in response, choosing to say nothing. After a moment of silence passed, a sigh could be heard.

“No matter. I have other things I wanted to discuss with you all.”

“Such as?”

“Player three has chosen to play.”

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purrincesscatitude · 6 years ago

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Ok do you think they (pynch) would have kids? If so how would the mess that is the first 3 years of a kids life go (I feel like Adam would be That parent who is Terrified)

OH COOL okay I was worried I was going to be asked something like WILD and have to scramble to formulate an opinion. BUT CHILDREN. I have some Thoughts about children:

OKay yeah so I do think they would have kids.

I mean, really, have you seen those two?

Like, Adam would be SO into adoption, because like…giving kids a healthy, happy home is 50000% his brand

And Ronan loves small things he can nurture 1) because he’s got a heart the size of Montana and 2) he wants to raise children that would mortify Richard Campbell Gansey III in every possible way

So yeah. They’d have kids.

2 of them

Both girls, because I feel like they would be really “ehhhh I dunno. What are girls? No experience with female siblings or cousins. Have no idea. What do we even DO with them?”

(Blue find this whole thing absolutely fucking RIDICULOUS and she lets them know it)

But then they meet a little baby girl who’s been in foster care for the first 5 months of her life and needs a good, stable home.

And this little baby girl just……

Straight up steals Ronan’s heart

Her name is Maeve.

And he’s smitten. Absolutely gone for this baby. Within 2 seconds.

(which is not a surprise? As they’ve learned from many a grocery store encounter, all a small human has to do is look at Ronan a certain way before he’s absolutely in love, and he spends the next 3 hours grumbling about that “stupid fucking infant and its stupid little fucking baby fingers and its round little cheeks and did you see the way she looked at me like she was seeing into my goddamn soul? I feel seen by that fucking baby–” )

(“Yes, I know, it saw your true heart and changed you life and whatever, just, Ronan, please stop talking and put the milk away.”)

And then it’s Adam’s turn

And he is just….

It’s like he’s suddenly never seen another human being on this earth.

And has never held anything in his entire life.

He’s so, so careful with her.

Like, too careful

It’s both funny

And sad

That he acts like this baby is the most fragile thing on the planet when he first holds her.

He spent the whole car ride to this appointment fidgeting

Because what if, Ronan

And Ronan has heard his fears since before they were even seriously considering kids, he’s listened carefully and talked him down so many times from this ledge

So he just takes his hand off the gear shift and grabs Adam’s and kisses his knuckles and says “Just wait until you hold her. And then you’ll know.”

Which is, by the way, to this day some of the best advice Adam has ever recieved.

The baby is fidgety and squirmy because she’s, well…a baby.

But Adam holds her, and says hello

(the dude is smart but, let’s be real, he can talk circles around an Ivy League professor yet has no fucking CLUE how baby brains works)

And she stares at him with these big, brown eyes that do, in fact, look like they’re passing judgement on him

Like she’s weighing his soul, and will decide, in this moment, whether Adam is worthy of her

(really, she just likes how the light is shining on his cheek right now in funny shapes, but, whatever, he needs this moment, so we’re gonna let him have it)

And then she smiles. And grabs for Adam’s hair.

Aaaaand that’s it. He’s completely unraveled and in the space of .45 seconds he’s rewound himself around her.

And yeah, they’re both 400% disaster parents

Because they are, in fact, disastrous human beings

They don’t always get it right.

Because WHO DOES, REALLY

Parenting is fucking hard

Harder than being unmade

And sacrificing yourself to a sentient dream forest

(“That’s a story for another time, Maeve. When you’re older. No, you are not old enough now. Nor now. Not even when you’re 4. Maeve–”)

(“Maeve, GO TO BED.”)

Yeah. It’s not easy.

Their house is chaos 75% of the time, and filled with too much glitter (they did name the youngest Noah, soooooo…can they really be surprised???)

Adam doesn’t know how to bring his language down a few notches to be, like, baby-oriented talk

(No joke, pretty sure the Great Adam Parrish Existential Crisis of 2023 began because Maeve was in her “why?” phase, and Adam just….hit a wall where he could no longer formulate a good reason as to “why” the universe dictates gravity and it….well….)

(it wasn’t pretty)

Ronan thinks a child at the age of 2 and a half should be allowed near a fire pit with minimal supervision

(“It’s like a dog and the stove, right? They burn their nose, they learn better?”)

(“NO that is NOT how this works AT ALL.”)

(thankfully they had this discussion before lighting the fire pit, so all was well-supervised and the only person who got hurt was Richard IV when he tripped on his own shoelaces)

And Orphan Girl sometimes gets jealous

(but they take them to visit once they get a little older and can understand the complexities of a flexible space-time-dream continuum a little bit better)

(And Opal likes having friends to run around with in the forest)

And sometimes there are meltdowns

And sometimes they have to have hard conversations

And sometimes they fuck up and have to say that they’re sorry for snapping, or sorry for not being fair, or sorry for not taking their problem seriously enough the first time.

And yeah, they feel shitty about it. Adam especially.

But they learn. And they get better. And every time Adam gets that look in his eye like he’s suddenly terrified of himself and falling back down the hole of what ifs

Ronan takes his hand

Kisses his knuckles

And says “remember when you held them?”

It works

Every time.

So they’re not perfect. No one is. And sometimes they wonder if they did a good enough job.

If there wasn’t some way they could have been just a smidge better.

Just to really make sure they were better than their parents

To really make sure they broke the ugly cycles of their own complicated, difficult, and toxic fatherhood histories.

But at the end of the day

When their kids are older and thinking back to their loud, colorful, eccentric childhoods

They realize that, yes, it was loud, and yes, it was sometimes crazy, and yes, they have maybe the weirdest childhood stories out of everyone they know

(except for their cousins)

(because Uncle Gans and Aunt Blue can give their dads a run for their money in the “weird as shit” category)

But they were always well-fed

They were always learning

Even if in unconventional ways

Their adventures were wild and chaotic but always, always, safe

And they do not have a single moment they can think of in which they didn’t feel so completely and absolutely loved by both their dads.

Which is really all Ronan and Adam could’ve asked for.

(“Dad?”)

(“I know you’re at work.”)

(“No, no, nothing is wrong. No, dad, chill, I promise, everything is fine. I just…”)

(“I just wanted to tell you how much I love you.”)

(“And thank you. For everything you and dad did for me. For us, when we were little.”)

(“You’re a great dad.”)

(“Yeah. Yes. I’ll see you at Christmas. Yes, I’m gonna call dad and tell him, too. God.”)

(“I love you.”)

#ask #anon #headcanon #pynch #trc #is this any good????????#Is this the right form???????????#I have no idea!!!!!!!!!#First time for everything!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1 #Also they just call both of them dad #because #I dunno #Ronan thinks it's funny that when they call out dad and Adam goes they say NO not you the other one #He has no comment about when they do the same thing for him #my writing

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alienshea · 6 years ago

Text

And now, for no absolute reason, I will give every Gorillaz song from the main 6 studio albums my rating from 1-10

Self-Titled

Re-Hash: 7.5/10

Bopping tune, 2D doing his own backup vocals make me swoon, Noodle is great as always, no one really knows what the lyrics are but they’re valid

5/4: 6/10

Better than average,not the best song i’ve ever heard but still pretty good, kinda uncomfy with Noodle screaming about someone turning her dad on, drumbeat makes me wanna dance, wished they couldve made the music video

Tomorrow Comes Today: 7/10

The kind of song that gets stuck in your head all day, love the overall sad tone, music video makes me laugh now bc that one murdoc gif, makes me cry when i have depressive episodes

New Genius (Brother): 7.5/10

Love 2D’s voice in it, lyrics hit home a little bit for me, have never skipped this song tbh, overall pretty good song

Clint Eastwood: 8.5/10

I literally know all the words, I love the rap, iconic, there’s a reason it’s popular, Del is everything

Man Research (Clapper): 3/10

oooo boy i’m gonna get shit for this one, i always skip this song, i can’t stand the whole “yeah yeah” thing, the only great part about this song is the “tHiS Is a bReAkFaSt ClUuUuuUB!”

Punk: 6.5/10

gets me turnt, toooooo short, tbh i like any song where 2D yells

Sound Check (Gravity): 9/10

looooove this song, gives me body chills when the drums kick in, love the deep ass voice, overall emo kid bop

Double Bass: 8/10

nice jam, I like listening to this when I do homework or art, relaxing

Rock The House: 8/10

legit makes me get up and dance, great rhythm, music video is beautiful

19/2000: 9/10

amazing bop, gets me pumped, iconic af, first gorillaz song i ever heard and first music video i ever saw, n o o d l e

Latin Simone: 7/10

I don’t speak spanish so i cant really sing along, love the feel of it, will listen on repeat, prefer the english version but im biased

Starshine: 6.5/10

idk I don’t really listen to this one, not a bad song i just wouldn’t play it on repeat or actively look for it, i do like the vocals

Slow Country: 8.5/10

love the feeling this song gives me, kinda like im just floating, super chill song to get high to, have never skipped this song, i like the lyrics

M1A1: 8/10

super fun song to sing along with, honestly the best song they couldve ever chosen to start a concert, he s c r e a m

OVERALL SCORE FOR SELF-TITLED: 7.5 (rounded up)

Demon Days

Last Living Souls: 9/10

absolute favourite song on the album, breakdown gives me chills, constantly changing it’s tune and i love it, the basssss <3

Kids With Guns: 6/10

I love singing the chorus, great song to have in the background, chill af

O Green World: 7.5/10

i love the instrumental of this one, vocals give me chills, kinda wish you could hear the singing more tho

Dirty Harry: 6.5/10

bopping beat, i love the rap part, overall not really the type of song i’d play on repeat but not bad

Feel Good Inc: 8/10

first and foremost the fucking bass of this song is the reason i’m learning bass, chorus gives me chills, kinda overused but i understand

El Manana: 6/10

kind of a meh song for me personally, not a bad one just not the greatest

Every Planet We Reach Is Dead: 9/10

banger, the reason im also learning guitar, vocals are on point, has made me cry before

November Has Come: 7/10

love the chorus, rap is kinda meh for me, i like the beat

All Alone: 5/10

not really a song i listen to, i like the bloopy noises

White Light: 4/10

I always skip this one tbh, better than man research but not by much

DARE: 6.5/10

this song haunts my dreams, its like the best kind of elevator music, on another note you fucking go noodle

Fire Coming Out Of The Monkey’s Head: 7.5/10

I WANNA BE A COWBOY BABY, narrative is really fucking good tho

Don’t Get Lost In Heaven: 8/10

beautiful, usually dont like gospel-esque music but i love this, gives me chills

Demon Days: 6.5/10

not my favourite tbh, meh for me

OVERALL SCORE FOR DEMON DAYS: 6.5 (rounded up)

Plastic Beach

Welcome to the World of the Plastic Beach: 7.5/10

i love snoop dogg, also this song gives me good vibes

White Flag: 5/10

ehhhh not a fan of this one, i usually skip it, i like the orchestra tho

Rhinestones Eyes: 8.5/10

i fucking love this song, great tune great vocals, i never skip it, i even got my boyfriend to start loving this song even tho he doesnt really like gorillaz

Stylo: 9/10

jesus this song, makes my heart hurt, i absoultely long singing along to this, his voiceeeee, bobby womack!

Superfast Jellyfish: 8.5/10

quirky af, i love de la soul in this one a lot, have never skipped this

Empire Ants: 9/10

so beautiful, has made me cry, both of their voices are so soft and lovely ugh

Glitter Freeze: 6/10

starts off strong but when it starts sounding like a drill i usually yeet out

Some Kind Of Nature: 8/10

used to be my favourite until i started listening to the album more, 2d’s part is so soulful omg

On Melancholy Hill: 8.5/10

so sad and amazing, music video is probably my favourite, is me and my best mate’s “song”

Broken: 9/10

ugh beautiful, i know all the words and always sing them loud af, has never skipped this song, honestly is everything

Sweepstakes: 5.5/10

not a big fan, i usually skip this one, not a horrible song just not for me

Plastic Beach: 7.5/10

love it, better at the beginning than the end, still a bop

To Binge: 10/10

WHEEEW BOY, i love this song, its so sad and amazing and gay jesus christ, the best thing murdoc has ever done

Cloud of Unknowing: 7/10

soulful and beautiful, again bobby womack!!

Pirate Jet: 7/10

i love the tune bc it gets me feeling ~spooky~, lyrics dont really make sense but thats okay

OVERALL SCORE FOR PLASTIC BEACH: 7.5 (rounded up)

The Fall

Phoner to Arizona: 8/10

gets me bopping and grooving, great music to play in the background while writing or doing art, my go to for when i draw or need background sound while I relax

Revolving Doors: 9.5/10

OOF, it so sad and it makes me feel things, i scream the lyrics errytime

Hillbilly Man: 10/10

fell in love with this the second I heard it, has been my favourite song of all time for over 2 years now, will never skip it in my life, i yearn to learn the guitar

Detroit: 6.5/10

generally a good happy bop, usually play it as background sound

Shy-Town: 6/10

nice to the ear, i don’t really like the prerecorded vocals of 2D but when Damon sung it live it sounds much better

Little Pink Plastic Bags: 8/10

i love it ugh, relaxing af, will never skip

The Joplin Spider: 9/10

big love for this song, its just soooo goooood

The Parish Of Space Dust: 7.5/10

big cowboy energy, sounds so sweet, 2D’s voice is unnnf

The Snake In Dallas: 7/10

good for when you wanna party but you’re depressed and can only stay in bed, love the little robotic sounds

Amarillo: 9.5/10

i meeeean what can i say, this song is so sad and gay and beautiful, ive cried while listening it this, will never skip

The Speak It Mountains: 7.5/10

this track is really weird and creepy and kind of not a song but i adore it anyway

Aspen Forest: 8/10

beautiful sounds, the piano is so soothing, will play this on repeat while i zone out

Bobby In Phoenix: 9/10

i wanna cry every single time i hear this bobby come back

California and the Slipping of the Sun: 7.5/10

this song so so pretty and i cry every time ugh, he sounds so fed up im sorry pretty boy

Seattle Yodel: ???

what

OVERALL SCORE FOR THE FALL: 8 (rounded down)

Humanz

Ascension: 8.5/10

absolute banger, i get pumped everytime this comes on, skys falling bb

Strobelite: 7.5/10

i used to hate this song but then the music video came out and i tried it again and now i love it dont @ me

Saturnz Barz: 9/10

theres so much i could say about this song ans the mv unf

Momentz: 9/10

banger, i dance like a maniac every time i hear it, will never skip

Submission: 8/10

gives me a good chance to work on high notes, makes my skin tingly

Charger: 8.5/10

2D’s voice is so griity and i can help myself

Andromeda: 8.5/10

I’ve never skipped this song, has made me cry, makes me dance

Busted And Blue: 9/10

has made me cry several times, vocals are everything, will never skip

Carnival: 7/10

is a bop, don’t really listen to it much anymore but it’s alright

Let Me Out: 8/10

i love it, one of my favourites to rap with

Sex Murder Party: 4/10

ehhh dont like this one, i always skip it

She’s My Collar: 8.5/10

i dont want to admit the things 2D’s voice in this makes me wanna do

Hallelujah Money: 7.5/10

hated this at first, grew to love, very soothing

We Got The Power: 9.5/10

gets me FUCKING PUMPED, we do got the power fuckers

OVERALL SCORE FOR HUMANZ: 8.5 (rounded down)

The Now Now

Humility: 8.5/10

summer bop, makes me wanna dance, have never skipped

Tranz: 9.5/10

i love singing along to this bc it makes me feel sexy oops, always screams the lyrics

Hollywood: 7/10

not a huge fan of this but ill listen to it, favourite part is the chorus, also snoop doggy dogg

Kansas: 9/10

oof this song makes me cry, i always scream this

Sorcererz: 7.5/10

ooo them vocals thooo, makes me relaxed

Idaho: 8.5/10

i love this song sm, one of my favourites of all time to sing, i wanna learn the guitar for this

Lake Zurich: 8/10

I love to listen to this while relaxing or writing, makes me wanna dance, COWBELL

Magic City: 8.5

always dancing to this, billboards on the moooon

Fireflies: 10/10

yall saw this coming, i always cry, its so somber, in close competition w HillBilly Man for my all time favourite

One Percent: 6.5/10

only song on the album i would skip and it isnt even that bad

Souk Eye: 10/10

its so gay and sad i love it sm

OVERALL SCORE FOR THE NOW NOW: 8.5 (rounded up)

So after months of me saying i’d rate the songs in order I finally did! Now keep in my the overall scores are averages, my personal rating for each album is:

Self-Titled: 8/10

Demon Days: 7/10

Plastic Beach: 8.5/10

The Fall: 8/10

Humanz: 7.5/10

The Now Now: 9/10

thanks for reading, i did this so i wouldn’t have to write an essay oops! <3

#my post #long post #like really long #this took me 2 hours #gorillaz #demon days #plastic beach #the fall #humanz #the now now #song analysis #album analysis

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