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springtimebat · 3 years ago

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A Family of Draculas

Chapter Two: Corpse Cradle

Note: This is a sequel to my post Babes in the Woods.

It all began on a strange Autumn day, confined to the mist and the thistles that conceal the woods in their thick fog, their addicting scent. In some ways, these events never ended. The woods remain the same. The sky continues to fill its space with monsters. And of course, the Corpse Cradle stands, as it has always stood, in the gingerbread house, hidden away from prying eyes, cloaked in ripped limbs, pulled intestines and dry blood.

The Corpse Cradle. How can I tell you about the Corpse Cradle? I should tell you about the time I fell in love. That’s a good place to begin.

It all began on my birthday. I had just turned sixteen years old.

On my sixteenth birthday, cracks began to appear in the morning sky. As we placed the candles on my cake, the wolves crept out of their caves to howl. The old, old air threw their shrieks into the wind like a strange radio signal. The Darling woman, her skin just scars and pores, sat by the stove as all this went on, warming her claws on the coals. I sat on my knees beside her, watching the sky from the kitchen window. The whistling, the whispers; they caressed my face with spidery palms.

The Darling women watched me as I succumbed to the winds. Her eyes were yellow and greedy.

“Do you know what this is, sourdough?” She asked, tossing a coal around in her talons. Her skin never burned. It didn’t matter how much she strained it, her skin never burned.

I rolled my eyes and twirled the morning breeze around my neck, enchanting it like a snake. The witch let go of the coal lump and it hit the kitchen rug beneath her with a thump.

“I just asked you something Dorothy-Mae. Would you care to repeat it for me?”

“You asked me if I know what this is,”

“Very good. Do you know?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea ma’am.”

“You should know. You of all people should know about this. After all, it’s all happening because of you.”

“Me?” I let the wind escape from my grasp and it loosened, grabbing onto my wrist, “What have I done now?”

“You’ve grown,” The old woman chuckled, “That is your problem. That is your curse to bear. You grow up,” She reached into a pocket and produced a slimy cigar from the shadows. She cackled at my scowling face, “You’re in so much trouble!”

I shot up from the floor and scraped my feet on the boards, “If you’re gonna be like this all day I’d much rather celebrate outside. You’re hopeless when you speak in riddles.”

“I,” The old woman coughed, “Do not speak in riddles. I speak in ominous fortunes.”

“And a fat load of good that’s got us. A run-down cottage and these woods.”

“And the corpse cradle.”

I shivered and pulled my shawl tighter on my shoulders, “Yep. There’s that too.”

“It’s been empty for three weeks Dorothy-Mae. It’s growing lonely. Soon it will be hungry.”

“Maybe that’s not a bad thing.”

“I do hope you’re not shirking your responsibilities, my-little-Dorothy-Mae. After all, I’m old.”

“I hadn’t noticed ma’am.”

“I’m old. I’m old and I’m feeble. Could you imagine the fuss...the strife I would get myself into if I went out on a hunt. A hunt? Me? Never!”

I gulped, “I haven’t been avoiding it. No-one has come through the woods. No men let alone children. And the cradle favours the toddlers.”

“It does indeed,” By now the cigar was spent, yet the old woman continued to puff at nothing but the air, “The skin at its most plump.”

“Do you really wanna send me out on my birthday?”

“I need to send you out there on your birthday. If it isn’t filled soon it’ll try to take you next.”

I scoffed and walked away to grab my coat. The stand winked at me as I pulled at its sharpened tongs.

“Creep,” I growled.

“It knows a pretty girl when it sees one,” The witch grinned. I stuck my tongue out at her and headed to the front door.

“Oh, charming!” She cackled, and she strummed her hands in mid air, playing an imaginary violin.

“I try.”

“Think of this as my birthday gift to you. You never know what you’ll find in those woods, sourdough. The trees like you. You practically have them wrapped around your finger.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t eat all of the cake while I’m gone.”

There had been a white balloon tied to the front door and I took it with me as I walked. It was a kindred spirit in a world full of corpse cradles and winking coat stands.

“‘Tis a strange thing,” I said, “To be sixteen.” My balloon bobbed its head in the wind, “Then again, the world is a strange place and I suppose I’m a strange master,” I hesitated, then spoke up again,“You won’t have to put up with me for long. Just a few hours. Then I’ll let you go.”

We wandered through the hazel thicket and crawled across the marsh. The gingerbread house sat behind the fence, watching the shadows and the oaks. The trees stared back, curious.

“Ah well, who knows what we’ll find,”

I pulled myself through the moss and the damp, expecting to find the woods, trapping me within its confines again.

I greeted ash. Ash and bare fields.

“ Happy birthday to me.”

My balloon stopped abruptly, mid wiggle.

“Thanks for my present I guess.” I sighed, to no one in particular, “ I always wanted a garden.”

No-one answered. But someone was there. A body made up of carpet lay on the singed grass, their head curled into their shoulders like a turtle. I could hear their snoring as their breath rose and fell.

Sighing, I tugged on my balloon.

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I have to cut this acquaintanceship short. Have wonderful times out there. I’m a better person for having known you.”

With that, the balloon flew into the smoke like a dove.

“There goes my only friend,” I mourned.

My present trembled in the dirt and I began my slow, agonising walk towards them. Reflecting on these moments, years after my walk ended, it all feels like I was paddling through water, through an ocean, towards them. The wind called to me to hesitate and yet I did not. I took fateful step after fateful step, treading cursed ground until I caught sight of their face. It was shrivelled, gazing at me through glazed, grey eyes. They looked stormy and exhausted. Gazing at this creature was like receiving cracked glass. The grey seeked out colour, found a brother in the wizened skies, then returned to earth, settling on me. As they caught the red on my dress they grinned with rotten teeth. I trembled and I swallowed. Crouched before me was the strangest person I’d ever seen.

{A break in the Narrative}

A Portrait of a volatile, violent, confused young man

Or: The Tale of the Man with a broken back

He was a boy forced into the floor; tired, confined to cages and bars. He was born with a crooked, broken back and glassy eyes, the shade of fading autumn grass.

I saw him and I fell in love.

{Exeunt}

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. I looked at the man before me and pulled my coat tighter around me. He attempted to pry himself from the earth, a grin never leaving his thinned face, his eyes never leaving my own.

“Don’t do that. The threads will just tighten.” I whispered.

The man raised his eyebrows and stilled. I took a step closer.

“Have you come to rescue me?” He asked. He had the voice of a toad, low and croaky. I sighed and dug deep into my pockets. Slowly, I gripped my pliers.

“The earth has its claws deep inside you. I can see that, even from here, your heart has turned to clay.”

“It can do that?” His eyes widened and I hesitated.

“It can with the right persuasion,”

“Huh!” He exclaimed, ``That's the last time I take a walk in the woods!”

“Do you...do you know what lives in these trees?”

“You, I assume. Although after today that will change.”

“Oh, how so?”

“Because I plan on taking you back with me.”

“Oh?” I grinned, pulling his arm out of the earth’s grasp. It howled angrily in my ear, upset at losing its meal.

“You are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

My grin widened and I stroked his head. His hair was matted and coarse like moss. His neck tensed and an awful crack soared through the air as he raised his free arm to me.

“How many women have you seen?”

“Many. And many women have seen me.”

“How tragic for them.”

“How tragic for me too. They’ve spoiled me for a lifetime. They could not prepare this carpet caterpillar for your arrival.” The strange man guarded by the ground flapped his patchwork torso around. I rolled my eyes and stretched out his leg, readying it for plucking.

“Eerie things live in these woods. Eerier than me. Creatures that would much rather eat you than bear to look at you. Monsters that could fit you on their fingertips”

“They may desire to do so,” The strange man continued, “But only you will get a chance to.”

“I could never eat a carpet caterpillar.”

“Your carpet caterpillar.” And with that he was free and he curled up in my open lap. It happened quickly, too quickly to properly register. We lay there in the dirt as if sleeping on satin. For a while, in my pickled mind, the skies were made out of stained glass and gilded in rose gold.

“How long have you been stuck here for?” I asked, twisting his hair in my open palms. He growled and shuffled closer. He was still wrapped in the carpet. Couldn’t seem to let it go.

“A long, long, long time,” Is all he said.

“You were not here yesterday when I went on my walk,”

“How unfortunate for me...and for you,”

“That thing smells unholy,” I frowned, pinching my nose. He mumbled something and stroked the confines of his old prison, almost disappointed.

“It was fine before you released me,”

“And now you’re free from the earth. Now you’re as human as the day you were born,”

“Not much then,” He sighed, and my heart caught in my throat.

“What are you made of?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He grinned, “Carpets! Of all makes and sizes!”

“Of all fleshes, bones and eye sockets?”

“I am the Carpet Caterpillar of the woods!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. To the trees, to the sky, to the wind. It was then that I realised the man I loved was mad.

I pulled him down to eye level and wrapped his arms of cotton and linen around my neck. I got another evil smile in return, crackling like a fire in the fog.

“It’s not safe out here for you. I’m taking you home.”

“Hmm...is there food there?”

“We have cake,” I grinned.

He chuckled, “Aren’t you a treasure!”

And so I took my present to the Corpse Cradle

{A break in the Narrative}

The Corpse Cradle: A surface level study of a forest monster

The corpse cradle is as old as the dust and the ground, a mass of grass and tissue, clinging and feeding off of the dirt. It has eyes, it has lungs, it has teeth...or so I’ve been told. My caretaker found it when she inherited the woods and it has been steadily fed ever since, in order to keep our home. Sometimes it's sated by travellers, by men, by women, by monsters from other planes. But it loves children in particular. It holds onto their hearts in jars. It keeps discarded limbs flailing around its bodice, in order to live up to its name.

{Exeunt}

He stayed there for six months, having his flesh stripped away, his mind flayed by a monster he could not feel. His face went from fogged glass, to a violent pink, to a terrible purple. I sat by him and watched on and off, as his carpets withered away to thin linens. He never cried. He refused.

“It does this to test you, you know,” The Witch told me one day as we scraped flesh into the cooking pot. At first, I had stopped eating what the Cradle decided to share with us but my present had insisted that I take it.

“If I am to die,” He reassured me, “I would rather you eat this. I’d rather you collect me than her.”

I turned to my caretaker, the closest thing I had to a mother. The Corpse Cradle gurgled happily in the corner as it ingested my lover’s guts.

“Maybe it tests me too much,” I replied, trying to keep myself from vomiting.

Mrs Darling chuckled, “I find it funny that, for years now, you’ve eaten whatever the cradle has given us. It protected you, taught you, nurtured you, almost as much as me. You’ve grown up surrounded by dying things. Yet, this young man appears before you and you turn into a ghost, a silhouette of things past.”

“Perhaps it comes with age,” I said, grimly. The Witch’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t start with that nonsense. I don’t know why you’re so upset sourdough! The trees brought you fresh meat. They practically served him up on a platter…”

“They served him up to me wrapped in carpets. And he continues to wear them like a suit of armour!”

“He loves you.”

“Yes he does, though I have no idea why. We don’t know each other.”

“You don’t?”

“You know we don’t. I met him on my birthday!”

The Witch continued to stir the flesh in her cauldron. I would have pursued the conversation further but the Corpse Cradle decided that it was the appropriate moment to snap its prisoners back.

He had been in the Cradle for four months, the longest a creature had ever stayed, and Mrs Darling had started to think the woods had delivered an immortal to our doorstep. His rough skin was all gone now and he was just a mass of bones and rotten teeth. His spine had been severed and completely digested, leaving him to crawl around in the beast’s belly. His eyes were still in their sockets, but not for long. At night I sat with them in their cage, gazing at his face with a lantern. The confused stare was gone now. His eyes were now the shade of spring grass instead of dying winter. I stroked a rib that encased him and reached to caress his arm. He grabbed my own and held it to his jaw, growing tired in the dark.

He was angry, I knew that. I was angry too.

“Where will I go when I die?”

I swallowed, “I don’t know.”

He groaned. I could hear his neck crack, just like the day we met. My hand gripped his jaw tighter.

“I don’t know what you are. I don’t know what will happen. And…”

“You don’t know what to do,” He finished. I nodded reluctantly. His hand flew up to my own, fixated on his chin, and he caressed the grooves on my palms.

“Where will you go when you die?”

I sighed, relieved, “Oh that’s much simpler! I know exactly where I will go! When I die, I will go to the lonely places!”

“Lonely places?”

“Yes! Lonely corners and corridors of the world. I’ll float and dance on the air with my brother.”

“You have a brother?”

“I do. I was a twin. We were born minutes apart but he was...different.”

“Different like you or…”

“He was born with fangs and glowing eyes. He had shaggy, silver fur instead of skin. He died soon after my mother gave birth. A few minutes later, she followed him.”

“Do you miss him?”

“Sometimes. When I’m lonely, I like to wonder what my life would be like if he lived. If we’d be here together, if we’d love each other, even like each other. Maybe, if he had lived, if he had gone on to grow, our father wouldn’t have given us up. Maybe we would still be together, playing by a creek.”

“I’m sure your father misses you. I can’t understand how he could give you up. And to a witch of all people!” I chuckled, “My father cannot feel. You will never understand. I’m not human. I never have been. Unicorn silk flows and pulses through my fingers. I hold electricity on my tongue. I am what I am because of my father. The only person my father could love died giving me life and it left him cold, frozen in time.”

“You do love to speak in monologues don’t you?”

I giggled and stroked his cheek, “Sometimes.”

“I tell you what,” He announced, shifting in the shadows to press his frame to me, “When I die, I’ll come back to you as a spirit!”

“You can’t determine that!” I cackled.

“You don’t know that I can’t! Perhaps we’re able to decide what we do once we’re gone. I’m a person of little consequence, slowly being devoured by a forest beast! Whatever awaits won’t care for someone as pathetic as me.”

“You’re not pathetic.”

“And I’m not leaving you alone.”

He lowered his haggard hand to my abdomen and tugged at the folds of my dress.

“What colour is it?” He asked.

“Are you losing your sight?”

“What colour is it?”

“Red.”

“Red. Like the day you found me. It’s come full circle hasn’t it?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“If I get the chance to, I will come back to you. I wish to belong to you always. But if I can’t get back to you, Can I at least give you something to remember me by?”

My eyes grew large and I took a step back from the cage. He clutched at the bars of his prison and I could see how hopeful his gaunt, torn face was.

“You really are arrogant aren’t you? Of all the things to wish for! Is that really your last request? Because that’s what this is, your last request! A child...my child? It’ll be…”

“Beautiful,” He whispered, smiling at my flushed face, “It’ll be beautiful.”

I grabbed onto his arm again and sighed.

“I don’t understand why you love me so much. I could have had as many men as I liked, you’ll never know. Honestly, you don’t know the first thing about me.”

“You still haven’t figured it out have you?”

“I haven’t figured out what?”

“The woods gave you to me, right? I am your present and I was designed for you, placed in the ground for you to take. I’m a gift and as such I am a non-entity. I’m just an object. The woods must have thought you were lonely and created me in response.”

“Why-why would they do this?”

“You’re a daughter of the air. You don’t belong here. They’re apologising,”

“You’re-you’re an object?”

“I might as well be.”

I took a deep breath, “I will miss you when you’re gone. I never wished for you but I will miss you as if I did.”

“I’ll miss you too,” My present hesitated and his hands fell to the floor.

“What do you want to say?” I asked, reaching to hold his palms again.

“Can I lie with you tonight?”

I swallowed and stood. Then I slid the heavy doors of the Corpse Cradle ajar.

“Just for tonight.”

He died two months later on a Thursday. I had brought him breakfast early in the morning and discovered that his skeleton had fallen apart. Rain began to fall as the Witch and I burned his remains in the cauldron. My eyes stayed locked on the Corpse Cradle, gluttonous and smug in the corner. It had grown heavy on my lover’s flesh and turned around like a lazy dog in the sun.

“It’s better this way, my Dorothy-Mae,” Mrs Darling reassured, lifting kneecaps from the brewing stew and stuffing them into my pockets, “He wasn’t long for this world anyway. One can only live on lust for so long.”

I didn’t respond. I continued to watch the Cradle.

“Must say, he had beautiful eyes. Like leaves. I almost wish the Cradle hadn’t gobbled them up!” The Witch cackled. I rolled my eyes and gripped the new chain around my neck. Mrs Darling followed my fingers and realised that the very eyes she longed to own were wrapped around my neck.

“He wanted me to have them,” I explained, “Besides, you have enough eyes to gorge yourself on.”

“Don’t be rude sourdough.” She growled.

“He never loved me, you know.”

“Of course he did! He was created to love you!”

“That’s just it. He never had a choice.”

“And no one ever will.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You enchant almost everything you come across. That’s exactly why I took you in. Look at how you’ve manipulated the forest, the very trees! It mourns right along with you! In a couple of years who knows what you will be able to do! I can teach you how to control the rain, twist the wind around your pinky finger! I can teach you how to make yourself stronger!”

“I don’t care about all that,” I scowled, “I’ve lost a friend.”

“There will be others. I’m sure the woods will leave another gift on your next birthday, since you enjoyed this one so much.”

“No. There won’t be anyone quite like him.”

I tugged at my dress, pulling down the skirt hem. The witch followed my gaze to my belly and she sneered.

“Dorothy, please do not tell me that you-” She began to vomit in her mouth, “Please do not confess to me…”

“Yes. I did. And I’m expecting,”

“You stupid, stupid girl! You do realise what that boy was? That boy was linens! That boy was clothing! He was about as human as a raincoat!”

“He was to you. But he wasn’t to me. He was a person that I let down.”

“The Cradle won’t stand for this! You know it’ll take the baby!”

“If it’s human. But I’m not sure it will be.”

“It will take the baby away just to spite you.”

“I’ll kill it.”

“Of course you will.”

“It will die eventually. Won’t it? Nothing lives forever.”

“Perhaps. I’d say the woods have taught you a lesson after all.”

I scowled at her.

The fire began to die and Mrs Darling stirred the stew with a wooden spoon. I peered inside. My lover’s bones had disappeared, melted into black tar.

“I won’t eat it.”

“I don’t expect you to, sourdough. From now on you will eat only the healthiest of meals. We need to keep the baby happy. However strange it may be, it's still our responsibility. Lord knows, the father will be completely useless in raising it!”

“We fed the father to a forest monster ma'am.”

“That couldn’t be helped. Anyway, I’ll set out to find some fresh meat in a few days, once you begin to tire. This here is a delicacy!”

With that we sat down on the ground together, huddled in our gingerbread house. It almost felt like days of old. The Witch began feasting on my lover’s remains while I tugged at the chain around my neck, tugged at the man’s eyes, twisted his tensed muscles and nerves in my hand.

“I will kill it one day,” I whispered sorrowfully, “I will kill it for what it’s done to me.”

The Witch said nothing, just directed her focus to the sky outside. The Corpse Cradle gave a vindictive growl.

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unmaskedagain · 5 years ago

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A wolf’s job

Okay so I got this request from @ dark-chocolate-fudge-sweetracer . They more or less wanted me to write a OC/Kagami dating Au. They didn’t give me too much a prompt so I had a lot room to move. Normally, I would NEVER do an OC protagonist for a fanfic. But the requester was really sweet about it so I thought WHY NOT. Lol. However, it did turned out that the one thing I dislike doing more than writing a sequel is writing an main protagonist OC. In fact I really struggled with it. So this will be the first and last time I do.

Fair warning Adrien salt ahead

He arrived on a Tuesday. It was an even bet at who was more surprised to see him. The class when they got to school and saw yet another new student in their class. Kagami, the last transfer student and his childhood friend, who he never told he was coming. Or perhaps even Reizo himself. He never expected to see his crush in his new class. He never expected her to be friends with the very people he had been sent to judge.

His face turned bright red, “Hey!” Reizo smiled brightly. “What a surprise.”

Kagami gave him an unimpressed stare that sent shivers through him. For a fifteen-year-old girl, she was really scary. “Quite so. Like you coming to Paris without informing me.”

Ouch. Yeah, she was going to kill him. It wouldn’t be a nice death either. Before he could try to come up with a good excuse, one that was him admitting only being there to check the worthiness of the current Miraculous users, Kagami marched right passed him.

Kagami and Reizo had been introduced through their parents who were work colleagues. Neither could remember when they actually met as they had been toddlers at the time but they had pretty much been a constant in each other’s life. And somewhere along the line, feelings developed. However, before anything could happened, Kagami moved to Paris.

She was the main reason he had taken the mission from the council. The chance to see her in person instead of video chat. He missed her.

She sat sit in the back with a bluenette he knew to be the hero Ladybug. The two were quickly joined by a pretty blond who sneered at the rest of the class.

As class began, the black hair, black eyed boy quickly realize something was… off. Wrong. The entire class seemed to be in a cold war; frequently glares were sent to the three girls in back. Said girls returned them with icy looks of their own.

Reizo would try his best not to get involved but he would make it clear where he stood; with Kagami. She was his oldest friend, his confidante, and (if he played his cards right) perhaps his future wife.

Throughout the day, the other students in class tried to pull him away from Kagami; swearing she and the other two girls (Marinette and Chloe were bullies.) Then it was Reizo’s turn to give out unimpressed looks.

After school, the young Yamato heir found himself fighting for his life. He had gone over to Kagami’s to apologize; though it was hard trying to explain that it never even crossed his mind to tell her he was coming to Paris. She knew he was a bit of airhead sometimes. Forgetful. Even more so when he had a task to do.

Though again, it wasn’t like he could tell her that the council of Guardians sent him to judge Ladybug and Chat Noir, both in and out of their masks, to determine if they were worthy to wield the two most powerful miraculous in existence. And to take them back, if he found that they were not.

The council had heard… rumors, and found they could no longer trust Master Fu’s word alone that he had chosen correctly.

Kagami seemed to accept his apology. He thought she forgave him, only to for Kagami to drag him to her training room, throw him a sword, and proceed to beat the crap out of him.

Normally, Reizo stood a much better chance. He had been training with a sword almost as long as Kagami had. It was a family tradition; one he came to adore as he grew older. One that resulted in him collected replica swords from movies; a lot of swords. Like a lot.

However, Kagami seemed to have rage fueling her every step. He never stood a chance. Mostly because she had always been a better swordsman than him. Partly because he was a little in awe at how battle just seemed to enhance her beauty.

After the fight, Reizo finally got ask the question that had been burning in the back of his mind all day, “What the hell is wrong with your class?”

Kagami sighed, “They’re morons,” She said. “They have fallen under the thrall of a liar named Lila. She has made out to be villains because we refuse to be fooled like the rest. The other students, as a result, have exiled us.”

“Why don’t you tell everyone she’s lying?”

She shook her head, “We have tried. They care not for the truth; only for the glitz, glamor, and promises Lila’s makes,” The Asian girl explained. “Marinette tried for the longest out of us all. However, eventually, even she conceded defeat. I’ve known her for almost three years, and it was the first time Marinette ever gave up on something. Or anyone.”

Kagami went on to tell everything that she had witnessed since coming to Bustier’s class. The lies, the insults, the lack of having a proper teacher. She even revealed that she used have a crush on a kid in her Adrien.

However, she was quick to add that the crush had faded quite some time ago.

The class ending their friendships with Marinette happened around the same time that Marinette and Kagami’s crush on Adrien Agreste died. The blond had been upset that both girls kept saying Lila was lying and advised them on taking the high road. Kagami could see the situation for exactly what it was… Adrien didn’t want to risk ending up the same as Marinette; near friendless, ostracized, and all but public enemy number 1 to the rest of the class. He was a coward.

The former rival in love, turned best friends, lost interest in the handsome blond boy quickly after that. As far as they were concerned Lila could have him.

Nevertheless, Kagami still considered Marinette giving up as a dark day for Paris. Though she and Chloe both knew it was for the best. Marinette had been a bit naïve to the realities of the world. The cold realization that the betrayal from her friends had awoken something in the Bluenette. A fire that refused to be extinguished.

No longer was Dupain-Cheng’s anyone doormat. Kagami had watched her best friend run herself ragged trying to help everyone with every little thing; always putting herself and her needs last. Marinette resigned as class president at the beginning of the year; saying she wanted to focus on the website she had launched for her designs. Free commissions were over. Marinette advised that they review her website for prices. She was sure to remind the new class president, Alya, that it was now the reporter’s duty to remember birthdays, organize trips, and fundraise. The free ride was over.

The class had shrugged it off; not caring or realizing exactly what Marinette was saying. Until Rose needed a new dress and Marinette referred the blonde girl to her website. When she received glares, Marinette was quick to remind everyone she was now technically running her own business. She couldn’t give away anything for free.

As days and weeks went on, he steered clear of the drama of the class which was hard to do as he chose to align himself with Kagami, Marinette, and Chloe. Still, Reizo was happy with his choice. He got to spend time with the girl of dreams. And he was pretty sure he ended up on something that might’ve been a triple date. Marinette with a handsome blond from another class named Felix Culpa. Chloe with a green haired boy named Luka. Kagami and Reizo. They went to the movies, got ice cream, and the pairing seemed to drift away from each other as the “group outing” went on.

However, it wasn’t until the day after the maybe date, when Reizo arrived to class, smiled at Kagami, who was in the process of being teased by Marinette and Chloe over something, and she blushed… That he thought maybe, just maybe, she liked him back.

Reizo paid close attention the actions of Adrien and Marinette. He used his own Miraculous a pair of cuff links that held a chubby grey Wolf Kwami named Pawz to watch the actions of Ladybug and Chat Noir from the shadow every time they fought. He recorded every fight and submitted it to the council. The videos left the elders with a lot of concerns. Mostly about Master Fu’s competency as guardian.

Ladybug was great. She was strong. She was capable. She was smart. However, most importantly she took her role as protector of Paris seriously.

Chat Noir, on the other hand, did not. He was rash and prone to jumping into situation (sometimes while Ladybug was trying to come up with a plan.) He clearly needed a class on sexual harassment in the work place. Most of the time he acted like a spoiled brat when Ladybug didn’t return his advances.

Reizo’s job was to only observe, provide evidence to the council, and cast judgement.

However, there was only so far he could be pushed.

He had been watching Ladybug fight a particularly nasty and powerful akuma. He had waited for Chat Noir to appear; and waited, and waited. When he finally showed, both Reizo and Ladybug breathed a sigh of relief.

…Until Chat Noir literally laid down on a roof instead of joining the fight. Ladybug begged for help. Chat Noir mentioned something about her missing their date, and that he wouldn’t help until she apologized.

“I never agreed to the date,” Ladybug said. “I don’t like you like that, Chat. I told you.”

Chat glared, “You refusing to admit your feelings has gone too far,” He said. “Until you do, you can save Paris by yourself!” Then he was gone.

That was the last straw.

Reizo charged at the Akuma with all his might; knocking it off balance and allowing Ladybug a chance to swing away from danger. The two hero fought side by side with ease. When they finally defeated the monster, Ladybug looked at the wolf-themed hero curiously.

“Who are you?” She asked the new masked hero.

“Shadow,” He answered. “The council of Guardian sent me to review the chosen wielders of the miraculous to determine their worthiness.”

Ladybug nodded. Fu had warned her that the council had taken an interest in the Parisian heroes. Eventually, he said, they would send someone to test them.

“The Council has made their decision,” He said. “You have proven yourself worthy, and will be given guardian training this summer.”

A happy looked appeared on the heroine’s face.

Shadow gave her a hard look, “Tell Master Fu that Chat Noir will be stripped of his miraculous. Please advise the guardian to ready himself to explain exactly why he thought Adrien Agreste was a good choice.”

#ml salt #adrien salt #marinette dupain cheng

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imagine-loki · 4 years ago

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Soulbonds and Fairy Dust

TITLE: Soulbonds and Fairy Dust (rewrite) CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 36/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine one of the fae has been helping the Avengers, jumping in to help them on missions and vanishing before Shield can bring her in. Loki joins the team and convinces her to come talk to the team and consider joining before Shield takes more drastic measures. RATING: M NOTES/WARNINGS: This is a rewrite of the original work of the same name. Also on AO3 here

Loki looked impressed. No wonder she could truename so much stronger than the other fae. “Are you the only one with that power?” he asked. He was always so curious and that didn’t change now.

Sig nodded. “I am, which makes it more dangerous when I truename things and when oaths are sworn in my presence,”

“Why is that?”

She paused and considered how to best explain that. “Well, I can identify anyone and anything’s truename, which is dangerous enough, since that gives me at least some power over that being, as you saw me do to Jareth,” Loki was nodding along, so she continued. “The other thing very, very few people know I can do and it takes a lot of power to do so, but I can change something’s true name, change their nature entirely,” she told him softly, sharing one of her secrets with him. No one outside of Underhill knew she could do that and she wanted to keep it that way.

Loki’s brows furrowed in confusion and disbelief. “Change their nature? That shouldn’t be possible,” he protested.

“And yet, I can,” she told him with a shrug. “I’ve only done it a couple of times, and it’s not something to be done lightly, especially since it takes a lot of power to do, but I can,”

“That is quite impressive,” Loki commented and thought it over before he found his next question. “What natures have you changed?” he asked gently, feeling that it might not be an easy story.

She sighed before she started, but she had agreed to answer questions, and she wouldn’t hide her past from him. “Once by accident when I was a child, I changed the nature of one of the hunt hounds so it would be my friend instead of the savage hunter it was being trained to be. I didn’t understand what it was I’d done at the time,” she explained. Loki nodded. Accidental magic among children was common and understood. She hesitated before she continued. “The other time, I’m not proud of…,” she told him softly, letting him know how difficult this story would be to tell.

“Tell me when you’re ready, darling. I won’t force you into anything,” he reassured her quickly, making sure she knew that he wouldn’t force or pressure her to tell him things that she wasn’t ready to. He was here to support her, not pressure her.

She sighed, but pressed on. “It was when I was being evaluated for my place in the court when I came of age. One of the gray ladies had an evening with one of the lords of the unseelie court and her child wasn’t up to seelie perfection. She claimed she had been unable to see through his illusion, but that didn’t change that the child was born covered in feathers. I was told to change the child’s nature to fit the standards of the seelie court or she would be killed for her imperfection,” she told Loki, admitting what she’d done with sorrow in her tone. She hadn’t wanted to change her nature, but there had been no choice.

“What happened?” he pressed gently.

“I gave the child a new truename,” she told him simply. She’d changed her to be seelie perfect as required. It had been the only way to save her life. “The last time I saw her, she was a toddler with bright gold hair and eyes,” she told him, then sighed. “Her mother catches her staring longingly at the sky though and I know I took it from that girl. She will never fly, because of my meddling,” she told him softly, sorrow haunting her eyes at what she had done, though it was awhile ago.

“I’m sorry, love,” Loki told her gently, pulling her into his arms.

Sig let him, accepting the comfort he offered. “As I said, I’m not proud of it, but it was a choice between changing her nature or letting her be killed. I made the only choice I could,” she said with a hitch in her voice. It had been a difficult decision at best and she knew she cost the girl her wings and stripped the sky from her.

“I understand, darling,” she heard his own haunted past in his words. “Some choices are not easy but they must be made,” he told her gently.

She nodded, glad that he understood, though she wouldn’t press him for the details on how. He would tell her when he was ready. “The oath thing can have some interesting results depending on my mood. I’ve had to witness thousands of weddings since coming into my dominion. Needless to say couples who vow to remain faithful in my presence, will remain faithful,” she told him with a smirk and mischief in her eyes. The fae weren’t known for their fidelity.

“That’s amazing,” Loki told her, sounding truly impressed.

She nodded. “But it takes a touch of power and me actually feeling like enforcing the oaths, so normal everyday promises are usually safe in my presence. Usually,”

“So I should be careful what oaths I make in her presence?” he teased.

“You’re safe. I like you too much. The moron who cheated on his girlfriend and swore to eat a million beetles to prove himself to her should have been more careful who was in the room when he made that oath…” she laughed at the old memory.

Loki’s eyebrows shot up in shock. “Oh wow. Note to self: never piss off Sigyn,” he teased, laughing at the poor fool’s misfortune.

She giggled. “You’re just now figuring that out?” she asked him just as teasingly.

“No, but that really brings it to the forefront. You can be terrifying when you want to be,” he was teasing, but also shocked and awed that she’d done that to someone.

“It’s not my fault he swore to eat a million beetles!” she protested indignantly.

Loki laughed. “Did you stay and watch him follow through?” He asked, genuinely curious as to what had become of the man who had vexed Sig.

She laughed. “That was a hundred years ago. I think he’s still working on it. He was halfway through last I heard,”

“Wow. And the girl? Has she stuck around?”

“Hell no. She was never going to forgive him anyway,” she said with a shrug. He’d been moronic to think she would.

“What an idiot. And now he’s stuck eating beetles for a few centuries,” Loki mused.

She laughed. “So he is. Maybe he’ll learn not to cheat again when another girl deigns to allow him to court her,”

“If that ever happens. I’m sure rumors have spread about his infidelity,”

“They have. He keeps having to explain why he’s eating beetles, and the fae can’t lie,” she reminded him. Sig was among the exceptions to that rule and she couldn’t lie well at all. “The court also learned to watch who was in the room before making rash promises. I may have enforced some just because they sounded like fun…” she added with a hint of mischief in her voice.

He grinned childishly. He loved mischief after all. It was in his nature. “Tell me about them? I love a little mischief,”

“A young lordling promised to profess his love for his lady in front of the entire court. He had no intention of actually doing so and was just saying the words as romantic fluff,” she giggled at the memory. “The poetry he read her was awful and the queen was livid at being interrupted by a lordling demanding he be allowed to recite poetry for his lady,” she told him as she laughed over it.

Loki joined in her laughter. “He must have been so embarrassed,”

“So very, very embarrassed,” she agreed. “And then he was scolded by the queen for making such a rash promise in the first place,”

“Especially with you present,”

She nodded, then smirked when she thought of something. “You’re not going to warn the warrior boys about that skill of mine, are you?” she teased.

“Not a chance,” he replied with a smirk of his own.

She giggled. “Wonder what stupid thing Fandral’s going to say,” she paused. “Or what stupid thing you’re going to goad him into saying,” she corrected herself quickly.

Loki chuckled. “It could be anything. That man is the definition of the word imbecile,”

She paused in her laughter. “Hopefully it’s not something Mama Frigga will be too upset with me for enforcing,” no one wanted to upset Mama Frigga.

“Don’t worry, love. I wouldn’t do anything to get you in trouble with Mother,”

“No, but Fandral might. I think he’s offended I’m not swooning over him like the feather brained noble ladies,” she made a face, letting him know exactly what she thought of that behavior. She wasn’t one to swoon and she liked to believe that she wasn’t one of the feather brained noble ladies who Loki so despised.

“I would agree. Though the noble ladies love the attention,”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s annoying and as featherbrained as the rest of them. Not my type,” she made another face to solidify that point.

“I agree. I can barely stand being in his presence for a long period of time without wanting to smite him where he stands,” Loki grumbled. He hated Thor’s moronic friends. With the exception of Sif.

“Or drug him with fairy wine?” she teased with a grin.

He chuckled. “Or that,”

“Speaking of, did you want to try it?” she asked as she summoned the bottle. The magic in the wine would help her recover. It wouldn’t help much, but any little bit was helpful, especially with how worried Loki was.

Loki looked interested. He was curious about everything, including the magic wine. “Sure,” he agreed.

Sig nodded and looked him over, gauging him and his magic before carefully pouring out a small glass. She handed the glass over to him and poured a much larger wine glass for herself. The wine wouldn’t hurt her and if Loki was careful, it wouldn’t hurt him. He took a small sip and she saw in his eyes that it was the sweetest, most delicious wine he’d ever tasted. On top of that it was mixed with magic, making it even better. Loki hmmed in pleasure over it. “That is exquisite,” he purred

She nodded and sipped on her own wine. “That it is,” she agreed.

Loki looked concerned as he took another sip. “How dangerous is this wine?”

“You saw what it did to the morons,” she reminded him. “It’s dangerous, especially to those without magic. It’s easy for them to get drunk on it, or addicted to the magic within it. It’s also easy to influence them while they’re drunk on it. They’ll follow whatever orders are given to them,”

He blinked and she saw his worry. “And to those with magic?” he asked, concerned, though he knew she wouldn’t hurt him, the concern was still there.

“Don’t fret, love. I wouldn’t give you anything that would hurt you. You’ll be fine as long as you don’t drink too much of it. And it replenishes magic. Worst it’ll do to a fae is get us drunk,” she added before he could ask if she was in any danger from it.

He seemed relieved but still said: “I know. I trust you,”

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #submission #Soulbonds and Fairy Dust #chapter 36 #rewrite #nekoamamori

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calpalirwin · 4 years ago

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Papa’s Job

Summary: Mason gets introduced to Ashton’s line of work.

A/N: Smushed a few ideas together. Also this piece delves deeper into Mason’s special needs diagnosis/lack thereof. And while I’ve done a fair amount of research both over the years for various reasons, and while writing this, I am by no means an expert, and my research is no substitute for personal experience. So please, feel free to offer constructive and KIND feedback in ways I can better write Mason. Happy reading!

Word Count: ~2k

And away, and away we go!

It seemed to Vanessa like wherever she turned, Mason was underfoot. “Fuckin’ hell!” she swore as she turned and almost tripped over the little boy.

Mason’s bottom lip trembled as he clapped his hands over his ears at her outburst.

She sighed and crouched down in front of the almost three year old, keeping a careful hold on Bailey who had been particularly fussy since her first round of shots the day before. “Sweet boy, you’re too close. I have the baby, we have to be careful.”

“Baie,” he nodded, reaching for his sister.

“You wanna hold her?”

Another nod.

“Okay, sweet boy. Let’s go sit, and you can hold Bai.”

Mason sprinted to the living room, flinging himself onto the couch. He grabbed the boppy and put it on his lap. “Momma. Baie.”

“Yes, Mase.” Vanessa said a silent prayer that Bailey wouldn’t kick up a fuss about not being in her arms as she placed the two month old on the boppy.

Bailey twisted her mouth to start crying, but Mason was quick to place his hand by her, her little fingers grasping around his slightly bigger index finger. “Baie, Baie, Baie,” he sang softly to her as she settled down.

“Bailey, Bailey, Bailey,” Vanessa sang with him, sitting down next to her son.

Mason continued to sing nonsense sounds at his sister, who slowly drifted off to sleep. Once Vanessa was sure she could move Bailey from Mason and upstairs to her crib to continue sleeping, she reached for her daughter. Mason whined low in his throat, placing his hands gently over Bailey. “Momma,” he warned in a low whisper.

“I know. I’m gonna go put her in her bed, sweet boy,” she answered back, her voice just as low.

Mason’s whine got more pronounced.

Vanessa pressed a finger to her lips. “I know you love her and want to hold her. You’re a great big brother, Mase. But sissy went night-night. You can hold her when she wakes up, okay?”

He pouted, but moved his hands away so Vanessa could take the sleeping infant. But clearly he wasn’t too thrilled at his sister being taken away because as soon as Bailey was in Vanessa’s arms, he chucked the boppy to the floor. “Mason Nicholas!” Vanessa hissed through her teeth as the toddler took off.

She held back the sigh, focusing on getting Bailey into her crib without more fuss.

Mason, in his quest to hide so he could continue to pout in peace, ended up at the top of the staircase leading to the basement. “Hey, Mase,” Ashton smiled when the little boy came stumbling down. He gripped the cymbal of his drum set between his index finger and thumb to silence it, setting his drumsticks aside. “Where’s Momma and Bailey?”

Mason jutted out his lower lip and pointed up the stairs.

“Aw, did Momma put Bailey down for a nap?”

Mason nodded. “Baie, Papa,” he whimpered.

“Aw,” Ashton chuckled, patting his lap. “Wanna come sit with me?”

He wiped at his face, walking over to Ashton and crawling into his lap. “Baie, Papa,” he repeated in a hiccuped sob.

Ashton wrapped the boy into him. “I know you’re sad. But Bailey needs to sleep. When she’s awake you can hold her some more.”

“Momma,” Mason mumbled.

“Yeah, I’m sure Momma did tell you the same thing. But it’s okay. You can still be sad about it.”

Mason let out a shuddery breath of acceptance before pushing at Ashton’s chest. Ashton opened his arms, expecting the boy to climb down from his lap. But to his surprise, Mason reached forward to tap his hands against the various drums, liking the sounds he produced. “Papa!” he beamed.

Ashton lit up like a Christmas tree. “Yeah? You wanna play the drums with me?” Ashton grabbed the drumsticks. “Look, bud,” he said, striking at the drums.

Mason laughed with glee at the sound, clutching on to Ashton’s wrists.

“Here, you try,” Ashton said, handing Mason one of the drumsticks.

Mason looked at it in uncertainty and back at Ashton.

“Like this,” Ashton demonstrated again.

Mason copied what Ashton had done as best he could.

“There ya go! Just like that!” Ashton encouraged, shifting Mason so that the boy was on one his knees, freeing up his other leg to kick up a steady beat against the bass drum.

“Mason?!” Vanessa’s frantic voice called down the stairs. “Ash, is he down there with you?”

“Yeah, we’re down here, baby.”

She came flying down the staircase, halting at the bottom, eyes wild as they landed on Mason sitting happily on Ashton’s lap playing with the drum kit. “You scared the crap out of me!”

Ashton’s own eyes went wide. “Me? What did I do?”

“Not you, him!” She pointed a finger at Mason. “He got mad that I put Bailey down so he took off to hide. I thought he went to hide in his room. Fuckin’ damn near tore the house apart looking for him.”

“Whoa,” Ashton eased, standing up and adjusting Mason on his hip. “Take a minute. He’s been with me. He’s fine.”

“Yeah, I can see that… Here, I’ll take him back upstairs.”

Ashton waved her off as Mason squirmed in his hold to reach for the drums. “Nah, I got him, it’s fine. We’re having fun, aren’t we, bud?”

Mason smacked on the cymbal with his stick, giggling at the sound.

Vanessa’s heart melted. “Alright. But, you, mister Mason,” she said, wagging a finger at the boy. “We do not throw things when we are upset.”

“Uh-oh,” Ashton tsked, looking down at the boy in his arms. “Momma’s right, Mase. Throwing things isn’t nice. What do we say after we do something that’s not nice?”

“Momma!” Mason grinned, blowing Vanessa a sloppy toddler kiss.

She crossed over to her boys, kissing Mason’s cheek. “I forgive you, sweet boy. So what are you and Papa doing?”

“Teaching him how to play drums. He seems to really like it,” Ashton told her, sitting back down with Mason so they could go back to playing.

“Yeah, they say music’s really good for him.”

“Who’s they?”

“They. The doctors. The research. Something about the repetitive nature helping with his speech. I dunno, a lot of the scientific mumbo jumbo goes over my head.”

“Well, why don’t we get him in like a class, or something. They have those, right?”

“Yeah. And I’ve been meaning to. But every time I think to look into it, something else comes up. And without a formal diagnosis, it’s hard to find the right class for him.”

“He doesn’t have a formal diagnosis? What does that mean?”

“It means they, the doctors, just have a lot of really good guesses but not any real answers because he’s still so young. It’s currently a toss up between aphasia and autism.”

“Okay, I know what autism is more or less. But what the fuck is that other word?”

“Fancy talk for speech disorder.”

“That is so fuckin stupid… they can’t tell if he has a speech disorder? He’s damn near three years old and only says 4 fuckin words. I may not know a whole hell of a lot about child development or whatever the fuck, but pretty sure three olds are supposed to say a lot more than 4 bloody words.”

Vanessa stifled her laughter as Ashton vented his frustration. She wondered how many times you had raved the exact same thing to Finn, almost verbatim. “They can tell he has a speech disorder, love. They just can’t tell if it’s just it’s own thing, or if there’s more to it than that. Autism and speech disorders tend to overlap.”

“Yeah, and I bet you had to pay out your fuckin ears for all those doctor visits, and specialists, and shit. God, your healthcare here sucks.”

This time, she did laugh. “Yeah, but Finn and I both have pretty good insurance plans so it wasn’t too bad.”

“Yeah, and we can always just do this,” he told her, jerking his chin about the room. “Do our own music therapy here in the basement.”

“Now, that’s not a bad idea.”

“Man, I can’t wait to start touring again. I mean, I’m gonna miss you guys like fuckin’ crazy. But god, I can’t wait to show you guys around when we do our gig here. You’re gonna fuckin’ love it, baby.”

“It might just be me coming to see you, babe. I don’t know how Mase will handle all the noise, even with headphones.”

“Shit you’re right… well maybe you guys should come to a rehearsal then. Give the headphones a proper test.”

“A private concert all our own, huh? I think that sounds perfect.”

~~~

Mason gasped in excitement as they walked into the rehearsal space and he saw all the instruments. “Momma!”

“Yeah, I see, sweet boy. Are you excited to watch Papa and Uncles?”

“Momma,” he nodded.

“Go say hi to everybody, and then we’ll sit and listen, okay?”

Mason dashed off to press his forehead against Calum, Luke, and Michael who all murmured their own hellos to the boy while Ashton helped Vanessa get settled down with Bailey. “Ikey!” Mason screeched when he got to Michael, reaching up to touch the man’s fringe that poked out of his hat.

“Yes!” Michael whooped in victory. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!” Michael said pointing at Calum, Luke, and then back at Calum with each “fuck you.”

Calum rolled his eyes while Luke pouted, “How is ‘Mikey’ easier to say than ‘Luke’? How does he like your hair better? I have curls!”

“Oh, just let him have the win, Luke,” Ashton said, straightening up to his feet. “You guys ready or what?”

After making sure Bailey and Mason had their ears protected, the men all situated themselves with their instruments and started playing.

Mason managed to sit quietly through about two and a half songs before he got up and went over to Ashton, resting his small hand against the man’s leg. Ashton nodded for them to keep going when Calum, Luke, and Michael turned to look at him in a silent question. Between beats, Ashton scooped Mason up into his lap and finished the song. “Whatcha think?” Ashton asked both everybody and nobody as he pushed sweaty locks of hair back away from his face.

“Transitions sounded better this time,” Michael commented.

“Sounded better than better. Sounded tour ready,” Luke corrected.

“Could do without audience participation,” Calum teased with a playful look at Mason on Ashton’s lap.

“Just because you missed a beat, doesn’t mean you have to be bitter, Cal,” Ashton teased back. “And speaking of audience participation. What’d ya think?”

With all four men watching her, Vanessa shrugged her shoulders. “I’m no music expert, but I’m with Luke and Mike. Sounded really good.”

Mason, displeased that the music had stopped, reached across Ashton’s lap to strike at the cymbal with his hands. “Here,” Ashton told him, handing Mason the drumsticks. “With these.”

Mason tried again, shrieking with excitement at the sounds he produced from hitting the different parts of the drum set. Much like how he had done in the basement a week ago, Ashton shifted so Mason was fully seated on one leg so he would work the bass drum with his free leg without jostling the boy too much in the process. “Atta boy, Mase!” Ashton praised.

Rehearsal was quickly disbanded in favor of giving Mason a turn at all the other instruments in the room, letting him choose his favorite. Mason sat with Michael the longest, happily swiping a guitar pick against the strings. “Well, now we know what to get him for his birthday,” Michael grinned, sticking his tongue out at Calum and Luke.

Calum grumbled that this was barely a win for Michael because all this proved was that Mason definitely liked guitars, making it a win for everyone except Ashton, while Luke pouted more about how unfair it was Mason liked Michael more than him because “We play the same bloody instruments! I have CURLS!”

Ashton laughed at his friends, letting Michael gloat in his little victories a little bit longer before getting Mason’s attention. “Mase? Drums?” He drummed a quick and small beat that had Mason launching himself off of Michael and across the room to Ashton’s lap.

“Ha!” Calum smirked, flipping off Michael. “Now who’s Mase’s favorite?”

“Bailey,” everyone answered without needing to think about it.

Tag List

@frontmanash @goeatsomelife @flameraine @creator-appreciator @cxddlyash @1-irwin-94 @sparkling-calm @tea4sykes @youngblood199456 @5-seconds-of-obsession @gosh-im-short @aquarius-hood1996 @talkfastromance4 @itjustkindahappenedreally @philthepegacorn @boomerash @teenwolfss24 @karajaynetoday @myfavfanficsever @stormrider505 @cashtonisruiningmylife

#papa's job #ashton irwin #ashton irwin fic #ashton&vanessa #ash&mase #mase&bai #papa!ash #uncle!sos #galcal irwin

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nobody-wants-ice-cream · 5 years ago

Text

Everything Wrong With The Umbrella Academy. Episode 5, Number Five.

We Only See Each Other at Weddings and Funerals

Run Boy Run

Extra Ordinary

Man on the Moon

Disclaimer: This is all in good fun! I wanted to do a really nitpicky re-watch of the series and found some really cool and interesting things I didn’t notice before. This is meant to have a Cinema Sins-esque tone. However, I did take off a lot more sins than Cinema Sins would have because I do genuinely like the series and the people that made it possible. So all of the good things got one sin off and all the bad things got one sin added. This is a really long post, so grab some popcorn. If there’s anything that I missed, feel free to add it!

I would also like to add that normally you wouldn’t watch a show this way. I am purposefully looking for mistakes, easter eggs, and other things that we’re not supposed to notice. I am watching not with the goal of entertainment, but for analysis. So most of the things that I sin, I am seeing for the first time.

Number Five

The apocalypse looks incredible. Well done special effects team! I know I already shouted them out, but they deserve another one. Or two. -2

Five shades Dolores with an umbrella. What a considerate dude. -1

Heat of the Moment is an awesome song. -1

Five’s survival gear. Well done costume department. -2

Also, the progression of skill and age is really well done. -1

Dolores’s little santa hat. -1

And her sunglasses. -1

“Do you remember that little mansion just outside city limits where we-- yeah” Noodle incident. However, the way Five says this implies that I really, really don’t wanna know. +1

Argyle Public Library. Suddenly the reason why Five went there makes sense. -1

How did Five get all the way up there on the library walls? Did he use a ladder? If so, that was begging for him to fall and break his name. +1

Sean Sullivan (who plays Old Man Five) does an excellent job imitating Aidan Gallagher’s vocal patterns and movements. -1

The Handler is the first person Five sees after 45 years of isolation. +1

Title screen lunch box! -1

Also, Five kept a lunch box to remind him of his family. He had Vanya’s book but nothing else with their images on it. I’m sad now, but glad that Five at least had something. -1

Five is so hungover. +1

Luther looks like he’s about to cry when Five tells him about finding their dead bodies. My boy! +1

Tom Hopper is an excellent actor. -1

Five also looks like he’s about to cry. +1

Aidan Gallagher is an excellent actor. -1

Luther lifts up Diego and holds him like Diego is an angry toddler. This amuses me. -1

See! I told you. Diego figured out that Five was involved with the shootings at Griddys and Gimbel Brothers on Patch’s doorstep! -1

“They work for my former employer. A woman called The Handler.” No one in this show is allowed to have a reasonable name. +1

Underneath how callous Five is about Patch’s death, he shows genuine concern for Diego. -1

Diego has not slept at all. And he is planning to go after Hazel and Cha Cha. Good luck with that, buddy. +1

Luther finally gets tired of Five vagueing everybody. Good job, I’m curious too. Er, I was when this was my first time watching it. -1

The Handler decides to wear three inch red pumps to the apocalypse. +1

The Handler is as vague as a Multi Level Marketing schemer would be.+1

The Commission decides to wait 45 years to recruit Five instead of a more reasonable number. Like zero years. Honestly, if I was the Handler, I would have picked up Five as a young, impressionable thirteen year old. Then he would feel indebted to the Commission and wouldn’t have had time to come up with the equations to escape. The Commission has no logical reasoning skill. +1

“You’re saying that I could actually leave here? Go...go back?” Heartbreaking. Sean Sullivan gets another sin off. -1

“All of this, was supposed to happen”. Kate Walsh is a kick ass actress. -1

The Commission is composed of dicks. +1

Five asks Dolores for permission before running off to join The Commission. -1

Five’s mustache. +1

I would watch a spin off of Five’s time in the Commission. Hopefully season 2 explores this more. Dallas plot, here we come? Sin until we get some answers. +1

You can see Five’s epiphany in his eyes. His expression says “I’ve got it! I’ve got it!” -1

The words on Vanya’s book look real. The props department did not have to go that hard. -2

However, whatever notes Five wrote are indecipherable. And for good reason if he was attempting to fool an entire time commission. -1

The fire extinguisher Klaus throws confirms for Five that the portal works. -1

Also, Five is clutching Vanya’s book. It’s like he’s nervous to see them again after so much time. -1

The fall from the portal to the ground doesn’t break, scratch, or hurt Five at all. +1

Also, Dallas plot foreshadowing? Remains a sin until we have answers. +1

I hope that they show Five picking up his hat, radio, gun, and possibly the fire extinguisher and that is why we never found any of those in a grassy knoll. Season 2 better resolve this. +1

“But that’s murder”. Luther, you threw people out of buildings when you were twelve years old. That is also murder. +1

Aidan Gallagher kills the delivery in this scene. Well done. -1

Klaus still has Dave’s blood on his hands. Also, putting Klaus through even more trauma. +1

Robert Sheehan and the heartbroken thousand yard stare. -1

The music choice really works. -1

That emotional, awful scream. -1

The briefcase exploding may foreshadow Klaus’s comic powers. Sin until we get answers. +1

Hazel and Cha Cha casually murdered Claudia. +1

“Unauthorized round trip travel to 1968”. This is how we found out where Klaus went. It requires a bit more brain power to figure out the Vietnam war from here, however, I think that this was a clever way to do it. It brings us back to the reason Klaus ended up there. -1

Honestly, Hazel was right to not carry the briefcase on him. If Five had seen it at Gimbel Brothers then he would have taken it because he knows what it is. It would be an insurance policy or could be used as leverage. Either way, Hazel and Cha Cha were going to lose their briefcase. +1

Allison, you were there when Vanya made breakfast plans with Leonard. Is the coffee and bombolini your way of trying to distract Vanya? Because based on the makeup and the nice scarf, it isn’t likely that you will be successful. +1

Vanya has a framed piece of sheet music. Either that’s some really valuable manuscript or its something kitschy. Either way, it’s a sin. +1

“What are you concerned about?” Vanya, the red flags are everywhere. +1

“Like a woman who’s based her whole life on rumors.” Ouch. Allison is trying to give you genuine advice, Vanya. This was uncalled for. +1

Leonard is getting progressively creepier. +1

“Can you imagine sharing your birthday with six world-famous assholes who all know they’re better than you?” Choke on that irony. +1

Leonard doesn’t stop her by saying, “Wait, that’s salt!” he waits until she already put salt in it. Dick. +1

“What happened to the other girl?” Harold, you know damn well. +1

Good use of Beethoven. -1

Klaus is back in the bath. Bookends to his tourture. +1

Klaus is haunted by memories of Vietnam this time instead of just ghosts in general. Trauma. +1

I made eye contact with Aidan Gallagher again. +1

Klaus doesn’t want to talk about Vietnam with Five because the last time he tried to connect, Five jumped away. +1

Five looks really excited to connect about time travel with somebody in his family. -1

Five doesn’t care that Klaus was tortured by Hazel and Cha Cha. +1

Five, Klaus has been tortured and then was in some war (Five wouldn’t know yet) for almost a year. This proves that Five’s decision making is impared. Presumably by his hangover. +1

Diego takes out his dagger from episode 1’s bank robbery. This is significant because of something Patch said. That Diego runs around as a vigilante to prove that what he did with the Umbrella Academy had meaning. Now that that has gotten Patch killed indirectly, he feels upset and confused. The dagger that he used as a child is now a symbol of what he did to Patch. -1

The fridging of Detective Patch. Yes, I’m still pissed about it and will continue to be pissed about it. +2

At this point, Klaus doesn’t know about Mom’s “death”. And I don’t think Five does either. The Umbrella Academy of Not Talking To Each Other should be the school’s full name. +1

Allison and Cha Cha don’t see each other when getting into or out of the chairs right across from one another. +1

Allison is doing the equivalent of social media stalking her sister’s boyfriend. Smart. -1

Extra Ordinary bites everyone in the ass. Thanks, Vanya. +1

Five and Allison have the same slow, blocky handwriting. Did Reggie teach them to write as slowly and as large as possible? +1

Hazel and Agnes’s flirting. It’s cute? -1

Klaus ran down the stairs wearing Grace’s heels and broke his jaw when they were twelve. Trauma. +1

Diego can’t park for shit either. Diego and Five need to learn how to park vehicles. +1

Klaus’s little “Hey, Dave” when he sees Dave’s picture. -1

The show fakes out the vet confronting Klaus. Clever. -1

Diego is genuinely concerned for Klaus. -1

The vet is itching for a fight. Asking a drunk person to apologize? Dumbass. +1

“I’d like to apologize...that you are depriving some village of their IDIOT!” -1

Klaus and Diego get into a bar fight in less than five minutes. Checks out. -1

Agnes sees the birds the way Hazel sees normal people. I like the analogy. -1

Agnes does not own Griddys. Who does? Is she the manager or something? +1

Hazel and Agnes theme. -1

Diego’s face when Klaus says he lost the only person he ever loved more than himself. He’s thinking, “Klaus lost his Eudora”. -1

No way in hell Five would have been able to get up as high as the chalk goes. +1

Five is still using Vanya’s book as a notebook. Checks out. -1

The rifle Five pulls out looks a lot like the one he points at the Handler. It doesn’t look like the one he pointed at Kennedy. Why would Five lie about this? +1

Luther, you murdered people when you were twelve. +1

Luther dangles Dolores out the window by her neck. Logical, yeah. Fucked, also yeah. +1

The level of concern Five has for Dolores. -1

Also, well done creating tension, show. My heart was beating like crazy. -1

The Gigue from Partita No. 2 in D Minor by Bach is one of my favorite pieces. -1

No one stops playing like that. +1

Allison takes her not-stalking info to Vanya and presents it really accusingly. At this point, Vanya is sick of your shit, Allison. +1

“You’re trying to dig up dirt on a guy that I like, who does that?” Everyone with an internet connection does this for the people they care about. What Allison did was hella extra though. +1

Vanya is getting more assertive. -1

Vanya is a dick to Allison. +1

“They’re a real frickin’ mess”. Understatement of the century. +1

Cha Cha wouldn’t know about the moon mission because Vanya’s book came out before it. Also, Vanya wouldn’t know that Five could time travel. +1

Diego you haven’t slept at all, as soon as you drop you’re gonna sleep like a baby. +1

The motel clerk doesn’t notice Cha Cha’s pistol, which was directly in his line of sight. +1

Diego doesn’t notice Klaus’s footsteps. +1

“Yeah but you also told me that licking a nine-volt battery would give me pubes” “We were eight”. Sibling culture. -1

Klaus saves Diego from gunfire the best he can. Even though Diego still gets shot, sin off for Klaus’s heroics. -1

“Was this all part of your master plan” “Shut up”. Sibling culture. -1

Audition panels are always dicks. +1

If you start an audition the way Vanya just did with the shaky bow contact, you’re fucked. +1

Imogen is a great violinist. Ellen Page is not. It’s really easy to see when they switch out. +1

Allison goes to Leonard’s place with no backup. Come on, even Diego has backup! +1

Allison doesn’t tell Five and Diego about how she got into Leonard’s house when they were breaking in again later. The window would have been much better than breaking the door. +1

Vanya’s powers are distorting her music. It sounds like her intonation is gone. Yet the conductor looks impressed. +1

Allison almost finds Helen Cho’s body. +1

The camera cuts to the attic entrance to show that it will be significant later on. -1

The Hargreeves car has HERMES on its licence plate. A.) nice comics reference. B.) Hermes is the God of Travelers. C.) Of course Reggie has a vanity licence plate. -3

Five and Luther connecting over their forced isolation. -1

Also, Aidan Gallagher and Tom Hopper play off each other really well. -1

“I’ve lived a long life, but you’re still a young man. You got your whole life ahead of you. Don’t waste it.” Luther’s face amuses me. -1

Five threatening while Hazel and Cha Cha doesn’t look ridiculous. I genuinely belive it. Props to Aidan Gallagher. -1

Five and Luther look so confused by Klaus and Diego arriving in an ice cream truck. This is such an underrated scene. -3

Ride of the Valkyries -1

Klaus’s little wave. -1

“Whee” I love Ben. -2

I want to know how they shot this. The behind the scenes after the Handler showed up and stopped time must have been strange to look at. -1

Luther protects Five with his whole body without question. -1

Five puts his hands in his pockets but then they’re behind his back in the next shot with no motion to explain it. +1

The Handler is a creep. She’s into Five. +5

Where and When did Five get that pistol? +1

So many memes come from this scene. -2

Five doesn’t have his finger anywhere near the trigger in some shots, but in others it’s two seconds from shooting the Handler. What’s up with that? +1

The Handler is so, so creepy. The hand caressing Five’s cheek? Eww. That all but confirms that she wants to be his Mrs. Robinson. +5

Kate Walsh plays an excellent villain. -1

Five made a deal with the devil because it was his only option. -1

[Gerard Way and Ray Toro’s “Happy Together” playing.] -1

Cha Cha was planning to abandon Hazel. Otherwise why else would she open the briefcase? +1

Ben gets shotgun. -1

Klaus finally gets to flip off Hazel and Cha Cha. -3

“SHIIT” Cha Cha, you got played. I love my smart boys. -5

Vanya did well at her audition! I’m proud of her! -1

Leonard knows the exact words Reggie would have used to describe Vanya’s powers. And he uses them here. +1

“I got first chair!” Congratulations, Vanya! -2

“No one’s ever believed in me like this.” Fuck you, Reggie. +1

Having sex with Leonard/Harold desereves a couple sins. +2

Helen Cho and Reggie’s book reveal. Leonard is a creep confirmed. +2

Dr. Pogo? More like Dr. Complicit in Reggie’s Bullshit. +1

Overall Review:

In case you couldn’t tell, this is one of my favorite episodes. Finally, all of our characters are invested in the apocalypse plot, even indirectly. Vanya’s powers emerge, the Handler and the Commission enter the chat, and Leonard is revealed to be a murderer and to have Reggie’s diary. Things are really heating up in this episode.

I had a really hard time finding anything wrong that wasn’t character flaw is character flaw and villain character is a villain. This is a fun episode. If I wanted to show someone an episode of The Umbrella Academy to get them hooked onto the show, I would show them this episode. It moves at a perfect pace and has enough mystery to keep everyone on their toes. When I first watched this episode, I decided to stay up all night and binge the rest of them. Before I was watching one every couple of days. Episode five is what really hooked me. Props to everyone that worked on it!

I want to give a special shout out to Sean Sullivan. He did really well playing Five! I hope we see him in season 2 for that one scene. If you’ve read the comics then you know the one.

Sins: 4

Sentence: Watching Klaus’s breakdown after Vietnam was more than punishment enough.

#The Umbrella Academy #all in good fun #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #Allison Hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #leonard peabody #hazel and cha cha #the handler

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jasontoddiefor · 4 years ago

Text

Title: the kind that was burned first [chapter 5 & 6] Summary: The last two characters wondering about what secrets time travelling Obi-Wan and Anakin are hiding. AN: And this little 6 chapter project is finished. It was fun!

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#5 Shmi Skywalker

The last time Shmi Skywalker saw her son, he was walking into the desert at night. He’d been hurt all over and decided that he would not survive another day under their Master’s hand. Their Master wouldn’t dare to blow him up, so hopefully Anakin would make it through the night and off this awful planet quickly enough. Shmi had kissed him goodbye, filled his pockets with everything useful and sellable they had and saw him off.

She hadn’t been able to fall asleep after, too worried for him, and yet forcing herself to prepare for the beating that would await her in the morning. Their Master would be upset and Shmi would have to bear it, but at least her son would be free.

She held onto that thought come morning when their Master came to demand their service and began shouting at her, his face turned red. It almost made Shmi miss Watto. The Toydarian had hurt them as well, but he had never raised his voice so much. She’d been able to ignore him then, focus on the pain and lullabies she hummed beneath her cries.

“Where is he!?” Their Master had screamed into her face.

“Here.”

Shmi looked up from the ground and stared at the entrance to their small home where Anakin stood. He looked so much older than he had last night and much more exhausted too. But there was also something else lingering just beneath the surface that she couldn’t name. It reminded her of the hours before a sandstorm when the wind chimes still played their songs but the air was already becoming hard to breathe.

“Leave her alone,” Anakin said, voice flat.

He didn’t sound like her son, Shmi realized. That was what disturbed her. His intonation was off, his body language strange. He stood straight like he wanted to draw attention to himself. No slave stood so proudly, so sure of themselves.

This wasn’t her child anymore.

Their Master’s face twisted into an angry growl. “How dare you, boy!? Where have you been? Answer your Master!”

He hated Anakin, always had, and used every opportunity to ruin her dear son. Every day Shmi had always been forced to watch, to ask Anakin to please bear it so he might survive another day. Their Master only kept Anakin around because his worth as a mechanic outweighed his costs.

The spirit who had taken hold of her son was more powerful than her child. Anakin would fall on his knees, apologies and beg as he swallowed his rage, but the spirit did no such thing.

“You are not my Master,” The spirit snarled.

Their owner took a step forward and then he suddenly stopped. His hands went to his throat and he began choking. His eyes were wide in shock, drool ran out of his mouth and Shmi watched as their tormenter dropped to his knee and died painfully. It was just like in the stories of slaves disappearing into the desert, returning with the storms to wage war on all the Masters.

The spirit’s breathing calmed and cold blue eyes stared at the body on the ground.

“Have you come to free us?” Shmi asked the spirit.

He turned to look at her again, all coolness suddenly disappearing from his face. As if thunder had struck him, he took a step back, helplessness overcoming him.

“I-“

Whatever he wanted to say was interrupted by two piercing cries. He jumped up and rushed outside only to return with two crying bundles. Almost panicked, he began to rock them, but the cries wouldn’t subside.

“Please,” he begged. “I know you didn’t ask for this, please stop crying.”

But the children, newborns if Shmi were to guess, wouldn’t calm.

“May I?” She asked.

The spirit wearing her son’s face observed her, then, hesitantly, gave her one of the children. Dark brown hair covered the babe’s head and their scream was as loud as that of the krayt dragon. Softly Shmi began rocking the child, singing and walking around the small room until they stopped. The other child calmed as well, though the spirit’s attempts at caring for them were by far not as eased as hers. He was like a japor tree, too stiff and harsh, like he was standing only because he was still forcing himself to.

“I used to do the same with my son,” she told the spirit. “Is he still in there?”

The spirit froze, but it was all the answer she needed. Her dear Anakin was gone then, had disappeared into the dunes and left a shifter his body so he may do what Anakin couldn’t.

“Someday, again, maybe,” the spirit answered. “I don’t know. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, I just wanted to erase my mistakes and myself, not this.”

He looked at the child in his arms. The babe was wide awake now, but silent. Their eyes were as blue as her son’s had been, as the spirit’s still were.

“What are their names?” Shmi asked instead of lingering on the spirit’s distress.

“Luke and Leia, they were my children once.”

Their names were beautiful, strong too. The spirit had chosen well for them, they would survive even the harshest of droughts.

“And now they are not anymore?”

The spirit looked lost. His expression reminded Shmi painfully of Anakin. He’d lost that openness as he’d grown older, but as a young boy he hadn’t been shy to show what he was thinking. He had been so bright then already, his being much too big for his small frame.

“They shouldn’t exist,” the spirit said, his voice full of hope despite, or perhaps exactly to contrast his spoken words.

He loved his children, that much was clear to Shmi. She didn’t want to imagine what he’d do to the person who would dare to come in-between him and these two young souls. He had killed their old Master with ease, she doubted he’d afford the same mercy to whoever chose to hurt them.

“My son shouldn’t have either,” Shmi said. It was a common story in the slave quarters, but for Shmi it held true in a way it didn’t for most. “He doesn’t have a father. You’ll find a lot of impossible things in this galaxy.”

“I know,” the spirit replied. “But I stole their rightful parents in my selfishness. I wanted them to grow up happy and safe, nothing more, and yet here they are again, suffering for my mistakes.”

Her Anakin would probably smack the spirit upside the head now. Slaves couldn’t afford to pity themselves or wallow in regret. It was a lesson they learned early on, the spirit must have forgotten it.

“Then perhaps this is what you are here for, to make up for your mistakes.”

The spirit laughed bitterly. “I can’t fix the whole galaxy.”

Shmi thought of her son flying through Beggar’s Canyon and counting the stars at night, even when his lungs ached and his feet were bleeding.

“My Anakin wanted to.”

“I know,” the spirit repeated once more. “He was a fool.”

Anger rushed through Shmi and the spirit, as if sensing the suns burning his flesh, startled, tearing his eyes away from Luke to look at Shmi instead. Shmi could tolerate a lot, her life had been nothing if not a lesson in patience and endurance, but the shifter in her son’s skin wouldn’t talk badly about the gift he’d been given at the cost of another.

“But he has something worth living for. Can you say the same of yourself?”

“I’ve lived four more years for my son and I wanted to erase time for my daughter,” the spirit said slowly. “I don’t know how to do anything but live for others.”

“You ought to learn it then, and when you have, return my Anakin to me.”

The spirit’s lips twitched upwards, an echo of a smile shining through. “Are you bargaining with me?”

The storms settled. The colors slowly disappeared from the sky and left behind the vibrant blue of a new day.

“You spirits made the rules of this desert, I am merely following them. Accept what you have been given to do your work, return when you are finished.”

“I don’t know how to finish, I’ve never known where to start or stop.”

The spirit was being difficult on purpose. Shmi huffed and handed him his daughter back, helped him adjust his hold on her. He needed some sort of carrier bag or perhaps a scarf so he could wrap both children to his chest.

“It seems to me like you are I need of a teacher then. I cannot teach you freedom.”

Shmi looked at her dead owner lying on the ground. She would take her tracker from him, cut it out of herself be free. She could hardly recall what freedom was, she’d been too young when she was captured to understand what luxury she’d been living in. She had to figure that out for herself first before she could show another.

“Do you know someone who can show you?”

“I-“ The spirit’s eyes clouded over and then he closed them. “He’s alive.”

“You know where to go then?” Shmi asked him.

“Yes,” the spirit answered. “Yes, I know where to go. Shmi Skywalker, I promise you, you will see your son again.”

“I will hold you to that promise then.”

Her son returned to her almost two years later. He couldn’t stay, but Shmi had always known he was meant for something greater than the dunes of Tatooine. He was still holding onto the spirit’s children, walking and talking chubby toddlers by now, but he also brought a stranger with him. The man that was introduced to her as Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight, had the same old eyes as her son.

Spirits, Shmi learned as she watched the two interact, left their marks.

+1 Count Dooku

Isn’t the most tragic love story

the one that never had the chance to become? The kind that was burned first, Came crashing down after, And finally bled to death in the cold ocean deep Before even one word could be exchanged?

- Thoughts about Icarus & Apollo

Dooku had spent three miserable years imprisoned, wondering when and where it had all gone wrong. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t oblivious to his own flaws. He was well aware that he could be arrogant at times, a trait not even Master Yoda’s many meditations had been able to get rid of, but his solitary confinement did force him to occupy his thoughts somehow. With the control he’d learned from birth, he forced himself to go through his every memory, examining even the moments he loathed to remember. Dooku knew now that he never should have let Sidious influence him for so long, Fall for his manipulations instead of Falling for his own beliefs. Created darksiders were never quite as mentally sound as those who had come to the dark on their own. Ventress had been a good example of the latter. Never a true Sith, no, she wasn’t worthy of that title, but her darkness had left her sane where many others of Sidious’s acolytes had submitted to madness.

Now that even the last cracks Sidious had left in his mind had healed, Dooku was beginning to reevaluate his situation and found that he had significantly more power within the safety of his prison than he has assumed. He easily could have been sentenced to death, but the Republic’s new and so Palpatine-distant leadership had spoken against it. Too much death had marred their space, or so they claimed, and Dooku would be a good source of information, should he decide to speak. He hadn’t so far as there was nothing to gain from it. He had been promised a lot, certainly, but while he had enjoyed the riches that came with being the Count of Serenno, he had been brought up as a Jedi. He didn’t need life’s comforts to keep thriving. Nowadays, with his mind clearer and sharper than it had been since before his Fall, Dooku knew that there was something he wanted enough to break his silence. He was plagued by a never-changing vision he was forced to relive in his every nightmare for years now. He wanted answers so he could finally put it to rest.

“I’ll be taking my leave then, Dooku,” Qui-Gon announced.

Like a clockwork, his former Padawan showed up once a month, first asking whether Dooku was willing to give up any final Separatist and Sith secrets, then continuing to speak about their lineage. The news he brought of Obi-Wan were truly fascinating. Dooku had regretted being unable to secure the young man as his apprentice. He was clever, but now Dooku was aware that Obi-Wan was much smarter than he had given him credit for during the war. Truly, he was a master negotiator now walking the fine line between debate and manipulation.

He was certainly a credit to their lineage.

“Bring your Padawan and his partner with you the next time you come,” Dooku told Qui-Gon. The Jedi, ever the diplomat Dooku had raised him to be, didn’t show even a hint of surprise. “I might feel inclined to share some details.”

Qui-Gon only nodded shortly, then left the room, his brown robes flaring behind him. Such dramatics for a man so keen to claim he only sought peace and calm.

Satisfied, Dooku bid Qui-Gon farewell. Neither the Senate nor the Council would let Dooku wait for long. Back in his cell, he fell into a light meditation and waited.

He had become very patient in the last years, the days passed so quickly they were hardly worth counting.

It took barely a month for his request to be fulfilled. Dooku wasn’t surprised to see that his own Master had come along, likely he was there to attempt to get a read on Dooku’s reactions. He didn’t particularly care about hiding his own intentions. In fact, if it became clear that he wasn’t here to lie and spread dissent, it would only work in his favor. Dooku wanted honest answers and Kenobi and the supernova called Skywalker would be able to provide them, at their own expense.

The two of them were a sight to behold as they entered his humble cell. They moved in total synchronicity, something you hardly saw these days anymore. It took years to master such control and affinity. He would have enjoyed dueling the two of them at least once. Obi-Wan was already a terror on his own, but with the backing of Skywalker’s endless power, they could have been the content of legends.

Yoda had accompanied them as well but waited outside. His former Master had only visited him once during the beginning of his imprisonment and their discussion likely would have ended with them crossing blades if not for the fact that neither had been holding onto their ‘sabers. Yoda had to hand his own over and Dooku was certain his own was back in a holding cell in the temple. Obi-Wan and Skywalker both sat down at the table.

“I welcome you to my humble abode,” Dooku said. “How are the two of you?”

Skywalker was the impatience to Obi-Wan’s serenity. He hid it well, let Obi-Wan speak for him and hardly contributed to the small talk, no matter how many questions Dooku directed at him.

“Count,” Obi-Wan finally gave in. Skywalker’s annoyance must have been wearing him down as well. “What do you want? You’ve been refused to speak for years, what changed?”

“I’ve grown annoyed with Qui-gin’s visits and ramblings about your children. Really, Obi-Wan, I’d never have taken you for a revolutionary.”

Skywalker’s eyes narrowed as soon as Dooku mentioned the twins. Truthfully, Qui-Gon hadn’t said much about them, but the way he spoke about them said enough.

“What do you want?” Skywalker hissed.

Dooku leaned back in his chair. Their chit-chat was over, Skywalker was agitated and would misstep if Dooku just played his cards right.

“You see, when my Master died, I was allowed a glimpse into his mind,” Dooku began to speak. This time, Skywalker wasn’t quick enough. He tensed and straightened his posture. “I saw so much shock, not a surprise considering his visions of grandeur, but also a lot of hatred and anger, the latter largely not his own.”

It had overwhelmed Dooku in that moment, sent him to his knees and left him wondering if that was the true darkness. Depths so horrid he wouldn’t ever be able to reach them, no matter how furious he was at the state of the galaxy. It had been so deeply personal, the hatred that stemmed from being entirely unmade.

“I’ve been puzzling about that moment for three years now, hoping it would become more clear-sighted. The longer I’ve been left here on my own, with only my thoughts and Qui-Gon’s incessant ramblings, the more did the vision take shape. I saw a man standing above Sidious. He was young, eyes burning, flickering like the colors of the skies. His words were the most confusing though.”

Skywalker and Obi-Wan had paled considerably. Happy with himself, Dooku smiled in content as he quoted the words that used to sound like white noise back at them.

“‘You will not enslave the galaxy again.’ Tell me, does the Order know it’s been harboring a Sith all these years?”

Skywalker flinched and Obi-Wan rose quickly as if they were in a duel and not seated at a table. So the Order wasn't aware of Skywalker’s nature. Curious, Dooku would have thought it was a reason they let Obi-Wan get away with so many transgressions when it came to Skywalker while the rest of the Order was still so slow to change and accept its own amendments.

“Anakin is not a Sith,” Obi-Wan replied fiercely in defense of the other. The argument would have been more convincing had he kept his calm.

“I have been wondering why Qui-Gon has been so insistent on visiting me all these years, and I believe I have found the answer.”

The Jedi were taught from birth that there was no returning from the dark side of the Force and yet Qui-Gon had been entertaining him when he really should have just let go of Dooku, washed his hands clean of him as Yoda had. Instead, they had talked more civilly with each other lately than they had when Dooku was still a Jedi.

Qui-Gon hadn’t just begun tugging at a non-existent bond for no reason, he had been hoping for a change. It had been this thought that tipped Dooku off. Someone must have planted the thought that Dooku needed to be saved in his mind. Unfortunately, he couldn’t even claim that his former student was wrong. Dooku couldn’t reach for the light, not yet perhaps, it still knocked the air out of his lungs, but the dark wasn’t exactly comfortable still either.

“You might not be a Sith anymore, but your once were,” Dooku told Skywalker. “The taint of the dark never really leaves. Somewhere in between killing Sidious, finding Obi-Wa and returning to the Temple with him, you crawled out of the deepest pit of the dark side, breaking centuries of Jedi teachings while you were at it.”

Skywalker’s hands were clenched to fists. Dooku didn’t need to hear him say it, he had his answer already. No matter how much Obi-Wan would attempt to deny it now, perhaps even attempt to skillfully manipulate the situation in his favor, Dooku knew the truth now.

“Were you Sidious’s other apprentice? I assumed he would have a back-up in case I decided to betray him. He was not much of a banite Sith unlike his own Master,” Dooku continued. “I wondered about your words as well. Was it a vision of the future that forced you to destroy him? Or something more? His thoughts were a mess, but his confusion at your appearance clear. I just can’t tell whether he was shocked you were there at all or because he couldn’t recognize you.”

Skywalker kept silent as Obi-Wan once more started speaking. “Do you have anything concrete you’d actually like to say-”

“Vader.”

The word echoed through the otherwise silent room.

Obi-Wan looked at Skywalker with great concern, but Skywalker was staring at his hands.

“He named me Darth Vader.”

Skywalker looked up and there it was, all that righteous fury, that anger Dooku recognized.

“And I executed you at his behest.”

Obi-Wan took one of Skywalker’s hands. “Anakin-“

Skywalker shook his head. “You want the truth?” He asked, unnecessarily.

“Be my guest.”

“He told me to kill you and I did. I razed the Jedi to the ground. The old, the sick, the young, all of them slain by my blade. I didn’t stop, I hunted them all down to the last member. I killed my wife, I attacked my Master and for over two decades I did every cruelty my Emperor demanded from me. I watched as entire worlds were annihilated, I tortured my daughter, I injured my son because Sidious ordered his apprentice, his slave, to do so. I did it all and worse, nightmares you can’t imagine that make the Clone Wars look like the joke it was.”

Obi-Wan was visibly struggling to keep his breathing under control the longer Skywalker talked, revealing every cruelty he had committed with so much honesty that Dooku believed it even when he knew it couldn’t possibly be the truth. And yet, the Force was not protesting. No, it was weeping with every word, crying for all the souls lost. It sounded like madness, like a horrible vision, a nightmare come alive-

“Time travel,” Dooku finally breathed. “Are you seriously suggesting you and Obi-Wan what- traveled through time? Ripped half the galaxy and its flow to shreds so you could right your wrongdoings?”

Skywalker shrugged, the gesture entirely too boyish for how his hard gaze was fixating Dooku, pinning him to his chair and this gruesome conversation.

“I was dying and begged the Force to take me. I never should have existed in the first place, a child created from nothing. It seemed reasonable to me at the time that something as grand as the power that binds the galaxy together should also be unable to unravel it like threads of yarn.”

“But you’re here.”

“Because of a shatterpoint, maybe. In one timeline Qui-Gon found me on Naboo, in another he didn’t. I didn’t ask for Obi-Wan to come with me, nor did I deserve my children’s presence, but here they are, keeping me tethered to the light. I’ve never been able to hold onto causes for long, I need people around me. You were right when you said that the taint of the darkness will always cling to me. When I faced Sidious, I was so ready to Fall again, return as Vader and ruin myself once more for others.”

Dooku turned to Obi-Wan. “You interfered. I thought I had heard a second voice call out, but I believed I had imagined it.”

Obi-Wan only frowned. “Yes. As soon as I felt Anakin arrive on Coruscant, I knew what he’d do.”

“So you stopped him.”

The conclusion was easy to reach, but Dooku suspected that it hid a thousand more declarations. Obi-Wan would have left the Order for Anakin, perhaps even would have stayed with him had he Fallen again.

“So I did,” Obi-Wan agreed.

Their gazes rested heavily on Dooku’s shoulders. Who would believe him, should he ever reveal the truth that had just been laid bare in front of him? And what more, what would he gain from it? Nothing, Dooku realized. All he’d earn would be Skywalker’s fury, which was so immense it compelled the Force to fulfill his wish, even if not in the way he had wanted it to.

“Why tell me?” Dooku asked once he found his voice again. “You had no reason to.”

“You would have gone digging anyway,” Skywalker replied. “And you’re the only one who figured it out despite being locked away. The others in the temple just got too used to us acting oddly I suppose. I hardly recall what the code actually is and Obi-Wan has been taught better by my son.”

“And you can’t necessarily do anything with this information,” Obi-Wan added. “All you know now is what awaits you when you side-step.”

Yes, Dooku could see that with stunning clarity now. Perhaps this confrontation had been of use for him after all. He didn’t think Skywalker would let anyone who was a threat to his family stay within his reach for long. Dooku would have to reevaluate his plans for the future. He wasn’t a hopeless fool who fought battles he couldn’t win.

“If you were Sidious’s apprentice, I assume you know about his Sith secrets?”

Skywalker snorted. “Yes, but only those he ever saw fit to show me.”

“I am relieved to hear his teaching methods didn’t change then. I shall tell you what I know, you may add whatever intel you have to present to the Council and the Senate.”

Obi-Wan actually looked surprised. “Why?”

“Insurance,” Dooku replied. “And I promised I’d share information with you if you showed up, didn’t I?”

Dooku had made no such promises, but Obi-Wan and Skywalker were kind enough not to call him out on it.

“And I have some knowledge of Separatist groups within the Senate still that might prove useful if you are willing to listen.”

Obi-Wan and Skywalker let him talk for almost an hour, interrupting only a few times to ask questions. At the end of their interrogation, they left the room with an abrupt goodbye. Dooku didn’t think he’d see them again, he was fairly sure he also didn’t want to meet with them again. The burden they were carrying was so heavy it threatened to crush him. There were kinder conversations he could be having.

“Impressionable, they are, hm?” Yoda asked him.

Dooku would have laughed if the knowledge he’d gained wasn’t still twisting his thoughts.

“Very much so,” he replied instead. “Tell me, have they spoken to you about returning from the dark side? I believe their theories have merit. I shall attempt to test them out.”

Yoda smacked his stick against the ground. “A troublesome student you were, troublesome you still are.”

“If you say so, Master. What has Qui-Gon been up to? He has spoken with much enthusiasm about the Order’s more recent reforms. How well are those actually going? He has always had a tendency to embellish his tales.”

Though, with Obi-Wan and Skywalker around, perhaps Qui-Gon’s impossible claims were more truthful than not.

#star wars #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #shmi skywalker #obikin #count dooku #fanfic #aaand this story is finished

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animeniacss · 4 years ago

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6 Years - Hoseok x Reader - Chapter 31 - Closer Than Ever

Synopsis: 6 years. That’s all it can take to take another look at someone and see that they have completely changed. You were once an eager 20-year-old, with your dreams all in view, and Jung Hoseok at your side to view them with you. However, after a break up the end of your junior year of college, everything seemed different. Now, you’re a recently divorced single mother of two, and your life is nowhere near what you thought it would be. However, after reuniting with Jung Hoseok, you may just be able to capture a little bit of that exciting youth you once knew so long ago.

Feat. BTS Members, Nayeon (TWICE), and Yuna (itzy)

Genre: Romance, SingleMother!AU, Past Relationship, Drama, Some Depictions of Violence/Domestic Abuse

Length: approx. 4.6k words

Chapter 31 - Closer Than Ever

It was a normal day in Seoul, and a young man was walking down the street, pushing a stroller with a sleeping baby inside. He was looking around, trying to get some errands done for the rest of the day before he had to head home. It was a nice day, but he still had so much to do. A groan of frustration left his lips as he ruffled his hair, his other hand gripping onto the stroller as he pushed it along until he reached the corner. The flashing red light stopped him in his tracks, allowing him to finally pull out his list of errands.

“Okay, Hyun. We’re almost done, we just need to run to the grocery store and get some formula, then to the bank, so I can take out more money for the rent then…” he grumbled on, glancing down at the little girl who was staring up at him curiously, listening to her father talk even though she had no idea what he was saying. “Then maybe we can go to the park and you can run around?” The little girl clapped her hands in excitement, the idea of the park, one of the few words she recognized, always excited her. “Okay, deal.” He said gently. Looking up, he saw the light preparing to flash green. Just as he did, he was preparing to cross, when suddenly, a car pulled up directly in front of him. Red and blue lights flashed on top of the white cruiser, which had a few dents on it. “Woah.” Quickly, the man pulled his stroller back towards his chest and watched the car turn off. It wasn’t long before the doors opened and two individuals opened the doors and stepped out. The man, slamming the driver’s door, approached the stroller holding individual.

“Yoo Shin-Il?” He asked. The man glanced down at his stroller, then back to the police. His heart was pounding.

“Yessir.” He said simply, his hands gripping the stroller handles. The cops got closer, the female kneeling down to occupy the confused toddler, while the male approached Shin-Il. “Can I…help you?”

“I’m Officer Myung-Dae and this is my partner Officer Chun-Hei. We need to ask you some questions about a case we’re investigating.” Myung-Dae said simply. Shin-Il blinked, glancing down at Chun-Hei, her hands playfully lifted up as she played with the little girl.

“Uh, this isn’t really a good time.” He said. “I have errands to run and my daughter-.” Myung-Dae stopped him, simply by lifting a hand, he had Shin-Il silent.

“I want to assure you my partner will keep your daughter safe while you and I talk. Besides, it’s urgent. The faster you help us, the faster you can return to your errands.” Shin-Il let out a shaky breath, and Myung-Dae smiled. “Nervous?”

“I’ve never been asked to visit the police station before.” He admitted. “But I don’t even know of any crimes I could’ve done, I-.” Shin-Il watched as Myung-Dae let out a deep groan of annoyance, and Shin-Il’s heartbeat sped up.

“…I have enough evidence to arrest you here and now. Don’t make me do it in front of your daughter.” He hissed. Myung-Dae’s face went as white as a sheet, and he was completely silent. “I’ll take the silence as an agreement?” He asked. Chun-Hei gently scooped the little girl into her arms. “Good thing I keep a spare car seat in this car for my daughter.” He pointed to the car, watching as Chun-Hei walked over and set the toddler inside, before shuffling Shin-Il towards the car as well.

The ride to the police station was silent. Shin-Il sat beside his daughter’s car seat, who was calm, thankfully, due to the cops not wanting to overly spook her by randomly arresting Shin-Il out in public. Shin-Il tried to keep a calm demeanor, relaxed as if this was all a big misunderstanding.

But Myung-Dae did not seem like the kind of officer who was easily swayed by wide eyes and cute toddlers.

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

Yuna was sitting in the backyard with the girls, who were running around and enjoying the beautiful, sunny day together, playing with some toys that Taehyung had scattered around for them when they came to visit. Min Ja was teaching Hyo Bin how to hula hoop, but she was not yet getting the hang of it, like Min Ja. Yuna had tried multiple times to get you out of your room, but you refused, not wanting to talk about the embarrassment that you had to endure in front of practically everyone you knew. When Taehyung arrived home, about thirty minutes after you did, he made a beeline towards your room. Your parents had stayed behind with the prosecutor, who was waiting for updates from the judge on what they were going to do with this new information.

“Please talk to me.” Taehyung begged, banging on the door. All he could hear on the other side was soft sniffles, most likely muffled by a pillow over your face. “Noona, please.”

“Just leave me alone. I don’t want anyone to see me right now.”

“Noona, if you think we’re upset, that’s the farthest from the truth.” He assured gently. “Please let me in.” He heard the bed creak, and footsteps padding towards the door slowly. When the door finally did open, Taehyung saw you on the other side. Your eyes were puffy, tears wiping away the makeup you had so carefully applied this morning. All that running had caused your hair to fall out of place, looking as if you had just woken up. You were still in your dress, which was wrinkled and slightly tear-stained around the shoulders. Taehyung sighed. “Noona…” he said gently.

“I look awful, I didn’t want anyone to see me.” You sighed. Taehyung smiled.

“To be fair, I saw you when that scumbag boyfriend of yours in high school cheated on you, and you looked a lot worse that time than you do now.” He said. Wiping your eyes, you let out a shaky breath. “Are you okay?” He asked.

“I’m sorry…” you said. “I wanted to tell you guys…”

“I know.”

“That lawyer was kind of right; I didn’t want to tell you guys I was going to be an unmarried mother. I thought I could do it on my own.” Taehyung scoffed.

“Hoseok-Hyung didn’t even know?” he asked. You shook your head.

“He found out when Weong-Bin and I had gotten into that huge brawl a while back.” You admitted, eyes cast onto the floor. Suddenly, you felt two loving arms wrap around you, pulling you tightly into a hug. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you rested against his chest. “I’m sorry I worried you guys. How did Mom and Dad take it?” You asked.

“They were shocked, but I’m sure once they’re home you’ll see they don’t hate you.” Taehyung assured, his hand resting in your hair, much as yours had done for him after his testimony got twisted around. It comforted you and made you feel better. “I really just don’t want to stop hugging you until you promise that you’ll be okay and know we don’t hate you at all…” he said. You sighed, offering him a tight squeeze.

“I know.” You said simply. “I know, I really do. I’m sorry I kept it a secret, but I really meant to tell you guys….” Taehyung smiled.

“Well, I’m sure that baby is doing just fine, you know?” he hummed. “And I’m sure it would’ve turned out to be exactly like Hobi-Hyung…” You chuckled a bit. “I mean...exactly.”

“The nurse actually told me the same thing.” You said, glancing up at your brother. “…OH! Speaking of, I need to call Hoseok…” as you pulled out your phone, it began to vibrate. “Uh…” glancing at the Caller ID, the name Hobi flashed on top. “Wow.”

“You both must share the same wavelength or something.” Taehyung mumbled, watching as you answered it.

“Hello?”

“Yoongi-Hyung told me what happened…” Hoseok said. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

“It’s not your fault.” You assured softly. “I should’ve told them sooner…but it’s okay. Taehyung’s here and I’ll probably see my parents when they come back home. I’m sure the trial ended for the day since I ran out of there so fast, I didn’t even think about it…” You could hear Hoseok let out a soft chuckle of amusement as he listened to you ramble. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. They said I should be let out within the next few days.” Hoseok coughed slightly into his hand, groaning a bit. “I can’t wait to be out of here. The food is just awful.” A giggle escaped your lips. “Hmmm…do you think you can sneak me in some chicken?” he asked curiously. You glanced at Taehyung, who could hear Hoseok over the phone. He waved you off.

“Go.” He said softly. “I’ll watch the girls until you get home.” Nodding, you turned your attention towards the door, heading towards it as you grabbed your purse and jacket on the way.

“I’ll be right over.” You said, slipping your shoes on. Hoseok cheered in delight before you finally hung up the phone. Letting out a deep sigh, you glanced down at your stomach. Taehyung saw you stop at the door, and your head lower, so he stepped closer.

“Everything alright?” he asked curiously. You looked over at him, placing a hand over your stomach. This wasn’t how you wanted to share the news, but you couldn’t bear if something happened again that paralleled what happened all those years ago. Letting out a deep breath, you stepped back towards Taehyung, looking up at him. He could see your eyes were trembling.

“I need to talk to you first, but it has to stay a secret between you and me right now.” Taehyung blinked, nodding his head in understanding.

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

Hoseok sat happily in the waiting room for you, holding his IV bag that was constantly giving him fluids. The waiting room was bustling with patients being reunited with friends and loved ones after weeks or months of treatment in a dull, sometimes terrifying hospital.

The two loves of my life-. Hoseok thought as he hummed happily to himself. Chicken and my loving girlfriend. Maybe I should be sick more often~.

As Hoseok waited in absolute bliss for your arrival, he saw a man standing a few feet away, arms crossed as he looked around. It seemed he was waiting for someone to get released, and Hoseok could see the excitement in the man’s eyes, despite being so far away.

“Mr. Baek, Patient Baek Song-hye is ready to be released.” A nurse called out, and the man looked over. A woman, most likely similar in age to the man, walked over to him. She was still wearing her hospital gown, and her hair was extremely short, looking as if she had just recently begun to grow it. Hoseok watched as she stepped towards him, her steps turned into walking before she broke into a run. Mr. Baek was there, arms open as he watched the woman spring happily into his arms, and he hugged her with all the force he could muster. Hoseok could see on Mr. Baek’s finger, a sparkling wedding band that seemed to shine exceptionally bright now that it’s partner was so nearby, practically within reach. It made Hoseok think to the little velvet box that he managed to grab as quickly as he could when the fire broke out. He had given it to Namjoon when he first woke up, making him swear to keep it safe. Namjoon did so, determination on his face. However, Yoongi was quick to take it into his possession instead to make sure that the promise, nor the ring, were broken accidentally. As Hoseok watched the couples happy reunion, after what must have been months apart, he heard someone calling his name.

“Hobi! Sorry, I’m late!” He glanced up, seeing you shuffling your way past the few people in the waiting room heading in and out, a plastic bag clutched in your hand as you hurried towards him. Hoseok was quick to stand up, a grin stretched on his face. It had only been a few days, if even since he got to see you last. Back when you sobbed in his arms right after this entire event occurred. However, at this moment, he knew exactly how Mr. Baek must have felt after all that time away from his wife. He grinned, opening his arms as you hurried into them, before squeezing you into a hug that you were quick to return. “Hey~!” you cheered. Hoseok smiled down at you, just happy to see you so close again. As he got a good look at your features, he saw a huge grin on your face. However, Hoseok also noticed the stress that this day had obviously had on you thus far. Your face was still showing hints of red, your eyes still slightly puffy. Your smile was able to hide it to most, but Hoseok knew immediately that was only an attempt at a mask, most likely to make him feel less worried. However, you didn’t realize it only made him worry more.

“What took you so long, I was lonely and these chairs aren’t as comfortable as they look.” He pouted a bit. You giggled, holding up the plastic bag.

“The line was long.” You said simply.

“Well, you’re here now, and the chicken smells so good. So, I’ll let it slide.” Hoseok smiled, both of you giggling. Hoseok did not want to wait anymore, taking your hand as he led you out of the waiting room and up towards his room, eager to feast on the delicious chicken. The two of you entered the white room and Hoseok led you to the bed, pulling over his rolling table. As you nestled beside him, you set the bag down and opened it, pulling out little boxes of steaming hot chicken that made Hoseok squeal in absolute delight. “I’m glad you like it.” You hummed, opening the boxes. “Let’s eat.”

“Oh yeah, let’s.” He said, not wasting any time to grab a set of chopsticks and beginning his feast. You weren’t far behind, picking up a piece of chicken and putting it in your mouth. As a loud crunch of delicious, crispy chicken echoed throughout the room, Hoseok let out a deep, satisfied hum of absolute bliss. “Oooooh man, this is so goooood.” He hummed through a mouth full of chicken, having to quickly cover his mouth to avoid any of the food falling out of it. You laughed a bit as you watched him swallow. “As much as I love chicken, I can’t wait to be out of here so I can taste your delicious cooking again.”

“You should’ve said so, I would’ve brought some kimchi or something.”

“No, no.” Hoseok said. “I want to eat your cooking again surrounded by the entire family.” He said simply. “So, for the next few days, I must be strong so that I earn your kimchi.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his logic, and he chuckled. “I’m so excited.”

“Me too. Even though everyone has been at the house, it’s really lonely…” Hoseok reached a hand up, placing it gently in your hair and giving it a gentle shake. You smiled, taking this moment to gently rest your head on Hoseok’s shoulder, setting down your chopsticks. Hoseok looked down at you, putting another bite of chicken into his mouth. He could sense the anxious aura around you, which he expected after what had happened today.

“How are you doing?” he asked. “I couldn’t imagine how you must be feeling after court.” You sighed, feeling Hoseok’s hand drop from your hair and onto your back, his fingers gently gliding up and down to provide you with a calming sensation.

“I was worse when I first got home…I think I cried it all out, though.” You said simply, a chuckle escaping your lips. “I just want it all to be over, but I’m sure I’ll have to go back tomorrow…” Hoseok smiled.

“Well it’ll be over soon. You got the worst part done…”

“I should’ve told my parents and Taehyung about the miscarriage earlier. This wouldn’t have happened.” Hoseok shrugged. “He tried to say me lying about my miscarriage to my family means I’m lying about the abuse too.”

“Well I’m sure he and Weong-Bin are the only ones that see that.” Hoseok assured. “Don’t let him win. You’ll be just fine.” He assured. “And once I see him, I’ll beat him up myself.” Now, you couldn’t help but laugh., glancing up to see Hoseok’s playfully tough face. “What? Why are you laughing?” He asked curiously, his face immediately switching from the tough one to his usual and more genuine soft face.

“You’re just so silly.” You said, nudging him playfully. Finally, you lifted your head from his shoulder and reached out to take your chopsticks into your grasp once again, lifting up another piece of steaming and crunchy chicken. “Now eat up and stop making empty threats before I eat all the chicken.” Hoseok gasped, scrambling to lift up his chopsticks again as he reached out to take another piece of chicken, along with some rice in a little recyclable tub.

“No, no. I want some. I asked for it.” He pouted. You laughed, watching as he practically started shoveling food into his mouth. He looked over at you and grinned a bit, both of you immediately getting into a playful match with your chopsticks. You reached out to take a piece, and Hoseok swallowed his current bite, gasping. “Noooo. I want that piece, it looks so crispyyyyyy!” You grinned, lifting the piece up and holding it close to your mouth. Hoseok whined your name, pouting once again. Hoseok continued to whine playfully as you continued to hold the steaming food near your mouth. “Let’s slip it then.” He said. You pouted, finally leaning over and putting the piece closer to his mouth, allowing the both of you to reach out and take a bite. Hoseok grinned, leaning in to take his bite. However, you were quick and stuffed the entire piece in your mouth. Hoseok dropped his chopsticks onto the little table, watching as you chewed the entire piece in your mouth. When you saw the shock and betrayal on your boyfriend’s face, you couldn’t help but cover your mouth and begin to laugh. “That was so…that hurt worse than the fire, that’s for sure…”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.” You said after finally swallowing your bite of food. “You can have the rest of the chicken, I swear.” Hoseok pouted, looking down at the still half-full case of chicken. He looked back up at you, seeing the wide grin on your face. No longer did he sense that anxious aura that was shielding your body only moments before, with red skin and puffy eyes, but he was seeing glimpses of the old, more jovial you that he had come to love. He couldn’t help but laugh a bit, finally continuing to eat the chicken while you simply kept snagging from the rice tub.

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

In the dim, dark interrogation room, Shin-Il sat quietly. His fingers drummed against the table, providing a constant noise that echoed the tiny room. He was in there alone the entire time, with nobody coming into the room, and of course, him being unable to leave. His daughter was still in the care of Chun-Hei, thankfully, which gave him a slight piece of mind. Myung-Dae had brought him inside, setting him down and assuring him he would be back as soon as he got all the information together. That was twenty minutes ago, and Shin-Il just wanted to go home. Just as Shin-Il was getting overwhelmed and anxious, the door opened, and Myung-Dae stepped in.

“How’s Hyun?” Shin-Il asked quickly as he watched Myung-Dae sit down, setting a manila envelope onto the table.

“She’s asleep right now. I have Chun-Hei watching her until everything is taken care of.” Myung-Dae said simply. “Now, like I said when we picked you up. I have enough evidence of you committing a double arson three nights ago that can land you in jail for the rest of your life.” Shin-Il blinked.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He said simply. Myung-Dae scoffed, passing the manila envelope to Shin-Il.

“You’re a terrible liar.” Myung-Dae said simply. He motioned to the envelope. “Go on, look inside.” He said simply. Shin-Il hesitated but eventually opened up the folder. The first two pictures inside were black and white images of the dance studio, shown from the camera of a store across the street, as well as the apartment building about 30 minutes later. As Shin-Il looked, he only saw one person in both frames, standing with his back facing the cameras. He could see something large in the man’s hand at the dance studio, but it was gone as he entered the apartment building about 30 minutes later. Myung-Dae leaned forward, silently moving those pictures away to expose two others. One was of the figure, now turning to exit the scene as slight flames could be seen erupting from the studio, and the other showing the figure fleeing the apartment moment before the flames alerted other tenants. Paperclipped was the image of the individuals face, blown up by a tech expert in order to turn the blurry and pixelated photo into a clear one. Shin-Il then found himself staring directly at a picture of himself. He chewed his lip, glancing up at Myung-Dae. “You’re also an idiot,” Myung-Dae said simply. ‘

“…This isn’t-.”

“Don’t say it isn’t you. Don’t. I know it is. What I want to know is why.”

“…Why?” Shin-Il asked.

“Yes. Why?” Shin-Il closed the folder, looking up at Myung-Dae. “What do you have against this family that you tried to torch two children?”

“I didn’t-.”

“Don’t LIE TO ME!” Myung-Dae slammed his hand down on the table, making Shin-Il jump in fear of the policeman before him. “Don’t do it. It’ll do you a world of good if you just come clean now…” Myung-Dae watched as Shin-Il leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms. There was a horrible look of anxious terror in the eyes of this young man. “Look…how old is your daughter?” he asked curiously.

“She’s…about one and a half.” He said.

“Where’s her mother?” he asked curiously. Shin-Il let out a shaky breath.

“She died of a drug overdose…about 6 months ago.” He said softly. “She ended up leaving us in lots of debt…because of the drugs and stuff…” Myung-Dae let out a shaky breath.

“I’m really sorry to hear.” Myung-Dae said. “You must have really been in dire straights for money.”

“It’s been tough, especially with funeral expenses. We’ve managed, though.” Myung-Dae nodded. “And on top of being fired from a good job, yeah, it’s been hard. Doesn’t help that I’m sitting here being interrogated for something I-.” He saw Myung-Dae gives him a glare, his eyes telling Shin-Il that if he wanted to avoid any more intimidation from Myung-Dae, he would not finish that sentence. So, he didn’t. He saw the corner of Myung-Dae’s lips turn up into a smirk. “…Why are you smiling?”

“No reason. It’s just amazing that your daughter is going to grow up knowing about this.” Shin-Il blinked. “You can help yourself out, even just a little bit…who put you up to this?”

“Nobody. I didn’t even do this!” Shin-Il snapped again.

“Liar. We have phone records.”

“Then why are you even asking me?!”

“I want to hear it from you before those results come back that match your phone number to the ones we have on file. I want to hear it from you before we get a 10-point match for the fingerprints on those cloths, on those lighter fluid cans. I want to hear it from you before all of that before a lunatic man gets away with trying to recruit a sad, pathetic man like you into murdering his family.” Shin-Il blinked. “There were two little girls, barely older than yours. What if that were her? What if she were the mother one day…wouldn’t you want justice against the man that tried to hurt that beautiful little girl?” Shin-Il had to chew on his lip, trying to remain calm despite the bubble of guilt that was forming in his chest. Myung-Dae knew he was close to breaking this kid, and he let out a shaky breath. “Shin-Il, you have these next few minutes to make everything right. To pay for what you did, and to let your daughter grow up with some sliver of respect for you…”

By now, Shin-Il was frantically rubbing his eyes, which were turning redder every second. Myung-Dae had to admit, he felt bad. Nowhere in this scenario did Shin-Il scream ‘blood-hungry killer’, he seemed like he could’ve been a good man and father had it not been for the pressure that crippling death and mourning had placed on his tiny shoulders. Yet still, he did what he had done and it was time to pay the price.

“…I don’t have any family…what will happen to Hyun?” Shin-Il choked out. Myung-Dae nodded.

“I know good places she can go where she will be safe. That much I promise. Maybe, with your help in putting away the bastard that made you do this, I’ll use that as a sign of good faith. You may be out of jail to see your grandchildren graduate high school….” Shin-Il choked out another sob at the thought of that. “…How old are you?”

“…Twenty…” he said softly. Myung-Dae nodded.

“…If you answer now, maybe it’ll be when they graduate from middle school.” Myung-Dae said gently. “I have no certainty, but I’ll put in a good word.” After Shin-Il continued to cry, Myung-Dae reached over to a small table tissue box that was kept on the window of the interrogation room, pushing it towards the boy, allowing him to blow his nose and wash his face. He was silent, knowing that once Shin-Il had calmed down, he would have all of the answers. The evidence was still processing, and would not likely not be ready for a few days, but a confession was enough. After a moment, the room was silent, and Shin-Il finally looked up at Myung-Dae with shaky eyes that were red with guilt and sorrow.

“Okay…” he said. “Okay, I did it…” he said. “I burnt both places….and I knew that family was inside one of them when I did it…” Myung-Dae let out a deep sigh. “I wouldn’t have done it if it were just up to me, I swear.” Shin-Il watched that smirk return onto Myung-Dae’s face, though it was slight, it was radiating off an absolute victory.

“Then who…put you up to this?” Myung-Dae asked softly. Shin-Il watched Myung-Dae reopen the file, and he shuffled around some papers. Shin-Il pulled out a reference picture of you. In the photo, you stood in front of the petting zoo, Hyo Bin clinging to you with a look of pure terror on her face as an alpaca poked its head over one of the gates. Meanwhile, Min Ja and Hoseok were petting the animal with absolute delight. Shin-Il sighed, pushing the picture away to reveal a familiar faced individual, standing in front of a grey wall to have his photo taken, a cold, blank expression on his face. Shin-Il pointed to him.

“…Cho Weong-Bin.” He said simply. “I used to work with him before I got fired…he told me to do it.”

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vannahfanfics · 5 years ago

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Happy Hungry Babysitters

Category: General Fluff

Fandom: Yona of the Dawn

Characters: Yona, Hak, Shin-ah, Yoon, Jae-Ha, Zeno, Kija

Requested By: Scarlet (Ao3)

A content smile decorated Yona’s face as she reclined underneath the shade of a towering oak tree. Its emerald-green leaves blanketed the expanse above her head to shield her from the worst of the sun’s hot rays, allowing only thin beams to spear down and blot across her cloak and pink gown in little gold circles. The space underneath the forest’s thick canopy was as cool as a springtime night. Snuggled within the tree’s twisted, gnarled roots, Yona rested safe and content.

Not too far off, her companions were gathered around a small campfire smoking some trout from the nearby river. The pungent aroma of smoke, grilling meat, and the faintest hint of salt made her nose wriggle; from the tang of the salt and smoky fish flesh on her tongue, their lunch was nearly ready. With a high-pitched whine, she slowly eased her stiff body into a sitting position and stretched her arms above her head. Her muscles uncoiled and her joints popped, spreading the satisfying sensation of wakefulness through her body and bones. Just as she was standing to walk over to the small encampment, the musky forest air rang with the snap of a twig.

Everyone was instantly on high alert. Sooner than she had even registered that he had moved, Hak was at her side with his arm slung across her chest in a protective gesture. The air was now filled with crunching leaves, shaking leaves, and snapping sticks from the underbrush directly in front of Yona. Her dragons crept forward to crouch in a shielding semi-circle around her. Yona plucked her bow from where it rested against the tree trunk and notched a single arrow; she did not yet draw the string and prepare to fire, for she had no idea whether the stranger approaching was friend or foe. The sounds of their advance were raucous and uncaring. If they were an enemy, either they were completely clueless to how much noise they were making, or they were so confident in their abilities that they righteously didn’t care. The group collectively held their breath as the bush directly in front of them rattled wildly, and then-

A toddler waddled out from within the spiny leaves. He stopped, gawking at the group of young adults with wide sea-green eyes and sticking his dirty fist in his mouth to lick at his chubby knuckles. All of their mouths hung open in utter shock as they gaped back at the little boy, still holding up their weapons threateningly. Yona was the first to move.

“Why, hello there, little one!” she smiled kindly and threw her bow and arrow down to the ground. She ducked underneath Hak’s arm to hurry over to the little child, and he craned his head back to stare up at her. He was the cutest thing, with wavy straw-colored hair curling just above his shoulders and ruddy, round cheeks. Yona crouched down in front of him, and he followed her motion, keeping eye contact with her all the while. “What are you doing so far in the forest by yourself? Where’s your mother?”

“It’s a baby,” Jae-ha gulped.

“Yeah, we noticed,” Hak grunted back and leaned his weapon against the tree before joining Yona at the toddler’s side. The quiet boy tore his gaze away from the princess to stare at Hak, still sucking on his fist. “He can’t be older than a year and a half.” Yona agreed with the assessment; his steps were unsure and fumbling, and he didn’t seem to know many words. She would be surprised if he were even one year in age. The toddler looked back to Yona again and shuffled forward to touch her cheek, and then cooed happily. His round, sausage-like fingers petted her dawn-colored hair with evident admiration.

“Red!” he asserted confidently.

“That’s right! It’s red,” she agreed, easing herself down on her knees. The baby immediately clambered up into her lap, sitting contentedly on her plush thighs and gurgling contentedly while playing with the soft silk of her dress. “This little one is lucky to have stumbled upon us. Who knows what might have attacked him out here,” she tutted with a frown. She began to stroke his soft, fine hair, and he clapped his hands gleefully, bouncing a little in her lap. “It is imperative that we find his mother…”

“He can’t have traveled too far… After all, he is but a small child,” Kija grimaced as he approached. The baby took notice of the white dragon’s coming and ogled him with those wide green eyes, then pointed at his head.

“White!”

“He certainly is a smart fellow,” Shin-ah sniffed while peeking over the blushing Kija’s shoulder. He sounded amused, but it was hard to tell with the mask and the blank expression of his mouth. The baby gawked at his colorful mask, then squealed with delight as Ao appeared on his shoulder. Babbling, he groped for the chipmunk insistently. The rodent seemed to understand his request and scuttled down Kija’s arm to rest on his hand, chittering like it was having a conversation with the young child. He clapped his hands again before reaching out to pat Ao gently on the head. Ao nuzzled into his palm, making him scream in utter glee, before returning to Shin-ah’s shoulder.

“Aren’t you going to look at the baby?” Yoon asked Jae-Ha, who was standing several feet away and looking very uncomfortable.

“I don’t like babies.”

“What? But he’s so cute, Jae-Ha!” Yona protested, and as proof, lifted the baby for him to see. The toddler stared brightly up at the green-haired man, rolling his tongue around the whole fist shoved into his mouth. Jae-Ha scowled as drool puddled onto the luscious grass blades below.

“Keep that gross thing away from me!” Yona pouted and lowered the baby back into her arms, bouncing him against her shoulder. The toddler once more became transfixed with her strands of dawn-red hair and shoved a thick swathe of it in his mouth to suck on it. She didn’t much notice, too busy trying to riddle out how he wandered out into the woods alone.

“His mother must be worried sick,” she sighed. The baby spat out her hair, now maroon as it was dripping wet with spit, and it stuck thickly to her neck. The boys looked on with expressions ranging from concern to awe to disgust as she ignored it. “We should walk in the direction he came from to see if we can happen upon someone, or a village, even. Someone should know where this little guy came from!”

“I agree,” Yoon nodded. “We certainly can’t continue on our journey with a random baby.”

“We’re already criminals. Why not add kidnapping to the list?” Jae-ha joked, earning a sharp jab to the ribs as Hak walked by him. The tall man leaned against the tree, wheezing as his intercostal muscles burned. “It was a joke, Thunder Beast… A joke…”

So, with the mystery baby in tow, the Happy Hungry Bunch set out in search of a mother.

Yona and Hak were in front, with the princess carrying the toddler. He remained completely calm, ogling the wonders of the forest over her shoulder. She much liked lugging him about; he had that pleasant milky baby smell, and his happy coos and gurgles were music to her ears. She loved the way his fat little fingers played with her hair. She talked kindly to him, pointing out random things that he eyed. Every time she spoke, he clapped his hands excitedly and reached out to touch whatever she was talking about, if it was indeed touchable. The curious baby very nearly grabbed a fistful of poison oak, and she had to yank him away at the last moment and occupy him with a butterfly flitting by to keep him from getting upset.

“I never knew you were so good with babies,” Hak remarked after about thirty minutes of tromping through the woods. Yona blinked at him, then gave the baby a small smile. It seemed he had tired himself out with all the investigating and was lying with his head propped on her shoulder, sucking his thumb. He was trying desperately to stay awake, but his eyes continuously drooped and fluttered with encroaching sleep.

“Tired,” he mumbled.

She stroked his soft blond hair a few times before looking back to Hak.

“I didn’t know, either,” she snickered.

“It seems our Yona has good maternal instincts,” Jae-Ha quipped from a few paces behind them. Yona flushed at the very suggestive grin splitting his thin face. “She’ll make someone a good wif-”

Yona never really was sure if it was divine intervention in the form of a protruding tree root or Kija’s foot. Still, whatever he tripped over, it made Jae-Ha immediately faceplant into the detritus. The group howled with laughter as he slowly leaned up, spitting decaying leaf litter out of his mouth. All the commotion made the baby sit up, his head bobbling and eyes blinking blearily as he tried to determine what all the hubbub was about. He looked down at Jae-Ha, still sprawled in the grass and dirt practically seething, and began to laugh good-naturedly. Jae-Ha sniffed derisively at the toddler before sitting up and brushing leaves and twigs from his clothes. “Little smartass,” he grumbled under his breath.

“You know what I’ve been thinking?” Hak said suddenly. He was staring thoughtfully at the toddler. Yona looked between the tall warrior and the chubby baby, unsure just what he was so transfixed with. “That baby looks a lot like Soo-Won.” Yona’s wide eyes beheld the sleepy toddler for a few seconds before the resemblance finally struck her like a bolt from the blue.

“Oh my goodness! He does!” His eyes were the same shade of green as Soo-Won’s, and the color of his hair was an exact match as well; it even possessed the same amount of bounce and wave. Pursing her lips, Yona held out the baby at a small distance to stare intently at it. The toddler continued to suck its thumb obliviously with his sock-clad feet kicking a little in the air. For the first time, she noticed that the child was actually dressed in lavish clothes; all the dirt and grime he had accumulated tromping through the underbrush had masked it, but he was wearing a rich red robe-like garment with gold accents and very clean bloomers. He was most certainly a child of a noble. “It couldn’t be time-travel, could it?! Is this Soo-Won from the past?” she whispered in quiet awe.

“If we kill him, will everything that’s happened up until now be reversed?” Jae-Ha frowned and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Yona inhaled in pure revulsion and smothered the baby protectively into her chest, tossing an affronted glare his way. He quickly threw up his hands in surrender. “It was a joke! Man, tough crowd today…”

“No, it wasn’t,” Shin-ah piped up from beside him. Jae-Ha gave him a cranky side-eye.

“Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let any of these mean boys hurt you,” Yona cooed as she nuzzled the crown of his head with her cheek. The toddler warbled pleasantly in response.

“Guys, this is not King Soo-Won from the past,” Yoon snorted with a cantankerous roll of his eyes. “Seriously, the baby had more maturity than you do. He just happens to look like him.”

“Can you prove it?” Zeno grinned from his perch on a rotting tree stump. Yoon glowered at him, but kept his mouth shut because he knew he couldn’t definitively prove it, and Zeno stuck out his tongue at the young boy with a devilish and self-satisfied snicker.

“Of course it isn’t Soo-Won,” Hak huffed and took the baby from Yona’s arms to hold it out and give it a disapproving once-over. “I was just saying they looked alike. That’s all.” The toddler blinked brightly at Hak, sucking on his fist again. He then squealed and reached out to slap his spit-covered hand against Hak’s cheek. The knight grimaced in utter disgust as the thick, goopy liquid slowly dripped down his face, while the baby howled with shrieking laughter.

“He likes you!” Yona grinned. Hak wasted no time in handing the baby back to her.

“Yeah. Sure,” Hak grunted and wiped the spit off his face with his sleeve. Yona began bouncing the baby in her arms again, and his big head plopped down on her shoulder. He yawned loudly before sticking his thumb back in his mouth and sucking on it contentedly, then snuggled up into Yona’s neck. She hummed a senseless tune under her breath while slowly swaying from side to side and bouncing his round body gently. “We need to find his mother. I can’t believe we’ve been walking thirty minutes and haven’t come upon anyone.”

“There’s no telling how much his path twisted and turned,” Kija frowned. “We could have walked in the entirely wrong direction.”

“That’s encouraging, Kija,” Jae-Ha lamented wearily.

Just as the group was beginning to debate turning in another direction, Hak hurriedly shushed them and glanced off into the forest. A voice was floating on the dank forest air- a woman’s voice. It rapidly grew closer and louder in pitch, and the panic was clear in her voice. Yona grinned brightly at Hak.

“It must be his mother! Come on!” She ignored his orders to wait and took off into the forest in the direction of the woman’s cries. Before she could reach her, however, she stumbled into some brambles. The tiny barbs dug into the hem of her dress like prickling teeth, shredding the fine fabric but refusing to release it at Yona’s insistent tugging. “Oh, my, what a mess-! Ma’am?! Ma’am, are you looking for a baby?” she called out into the wilderness, deciding that it was useless to struggle against the thorns and electing to instead attract the woman to her. The cries stopped short with Yona’s yelling, soon replaced by very frantic crashing in the underbrush. A nearby hawthorn rattled so violently that several of its red berries rattled to the ground before a breathless, red-faced, wild-eyed young woman burst through.

“Oh, my baby! There you are!” she wailed with relief. She surged towards Yona, tripping over her own feet from running too fast, and landed on her hands and knees right in front of the bramble thicket. The woman groped at Yona’s dress in an effort to reach her son, sobbing so hard she couldn’t breathe, and Yona encouragingly shushed her while holding out the baby to her. She hugged him tightly to her bosom, stroking his hair and cradling him while choking out words of gratitude: “Oh- hic- thank you so much, I- hic- I turned around, and he was just gone! Hic- ungh- I’ve been searching everywhere for him! I thought- hic- I thought he had been snatched up by something awful, and I- I- I- oh, my darling baby, I’m so glad you’re all right!”

By this time, the boys had caught up to Yona. Hak cursed under his breath and knelt to begin carefully disentangling the ruined hem of her dress from the clinging brambles. Yona smiled brightly at the woman when she looked up with wide, teary eyes. “I must repay you somehow. Money? I have money, or food, or anything-!”

“It’s all right, ma’am. We don’t-” Before she could finish, Jae-Ha clapped his hand over her mouth and leaned over her shoulder with a charming smile laced with just the smallest hint of roguish mischief.

“Some warm food and a place to sleep would be marvelous, madam.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The Happy Hungry Bunch, ironically, had only been another two or three minutes from the baby’s home, which turned out to be a prominent city. The woman’s husband was the local steward of the settlement, explaining the baby’s apparent status. He was similarly beside himself at the toddler’s disappearance. As his wife and Yona came strolling up, swinging the happy baby between them, he actually fell down the steps of his lofty home trying to reach him. Yona looked on happily as the family reunited. Many tears were shed at the toddler’s return, by the parents and the servants alike. It was clear that he was very cherished and loved. I hope he grows up in a warm and untroubled home, she prayed.

The group was repaid with a warm welcome, warm food, and warm showers. The mother had stumbled into the guest bedroom just as she was dressing and, of course, recognized her dawn-red hair immediately. She was very gracious about Yona’s wishes not to be outed and provided her with a silk headwrap to cover her conspicuous locks. The silk dress was smooth on Yona’s freshly-washed skin, and the fragrance of milk and honey soap clung to her petite frame mingling with the pleasant rose perfume the lady of the house had loaned her. They enjoyed a rowdy dinner, regaling the nobles with modified tales of their exploits, and retired deep into the night with full bellies and happy smiles. The steward’s wife let Yona rock the baby to sleep and place him in his cradle. Just as the princess was slipping down the hall to scurry to her bedroom, she encountered her bodyguard. He was sitting beside her bedroom door, hunched over. He had most likely fallen asleep awaiting her return.

“Hak,” she called softly as she knelt beside him and shook his shoulder. He did not jerk or gasp, but instead cracked an eye open to look at her. He had not been asleep after all- only resting his eyes. “Thank you for waiting up for me,” she smiled graciously. His lips curled into a thin smile, and he reclined back against the wall, stretching out one of his long legs with no care if someone might trip over it.

“Always, Princess.”

“That baby was adorable,” she mused cheerfully. Though it was late in the evening, her interactions with the toddler had left her invigorated and humming with energy. Hak smirked airily with a nod of agreement.

“Yeah. Kinda scary how much he looked like Soo-Won, though.”

“Indeed,” she giggled. The little bubble of happiness inspired by the comment soon burst inside her, however, replaced by numbing sadness. Soo-Won’s name could only bring her sorrow and regret now. Hak noticed her change in mood immediately and scooted closer to her, reaching up to grab her head and nestle it into his shoulder softly. She did not retreat from the intimate action but rather welcomed it. Her hand curled into the thick fabric of his sleeve, and she exhaled miserably. “What am I going to do, Hak?”

“Just keep going,” he answered. “Just keep pushing forward and try to make the world a better place for kids like him.” A smile blossomed on her face. It was a lovely sentiment and a very Hak thing to say.

“Yes…” She could get up and crawl into the been that had been offered her, but to her sleep-addled mind, leaning against Hak was infinitely more comfortable. As she reclined against him, his body heat lulling her into a sense of security, her eyes began to droop. I’ll make the world a much better place, so that families like this can live carefree and happy…

You’ll see, Soo-Won… You’ll see.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#yona of the dawn #yona of the red dawn #yotd #akatsuki no yona #akayona #yona #princess yona #happy hungry bunch #yotd fanfic #yotd fanfiction #akayona fanfic #akayona fanfiction

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meg91596 · 5 years ago

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Growing Up Chapter 5: Scout’s Baby and Grandma

Amelia and Link woke up to the bed being wet. Amelia knew that her braxton hicks contractions were getting worse but after waking up she realized that she was in labor. Link quickly got dressed, and got Scout dressed while Amelia decided to shower because she thought there were hours before the baby would make his or her way on earth. When she got out she decided that it was time to go to the hospital.

“Amelia are you ready to welcome this baby.” Link asked his fiancee. “To be honest Link I don’t know it seems like time went by too fast with this one when Scout’s pregnancy was slow. But then the first 16 months came by fast.” Amelia said. “I know but just think Scout is going to be a good big brother.” Link said. “Baby, I be good I play good baby.” Scout said. “I know you want to play with the baby like you do with Zola, Bailey, and Ellis, but the baby is going to be very small.” Link said.

It was nearly an hour later when Amelia and Link welcomed their second child a little girl. They were excited to show Scout his little sister. Meredith brought in the young toddler to meet his sister. Meredith saw the little girl and how much she reminded her of what Ellis looked like when she was born. She wished that Derek was there to see what Amelia’s life is like with Link, and her two kids.

“So what is her name?” asked Meredith. “Annabel Josephine is her name.” Amelia said. “Anna cute Momma.” Scout said. “Yes she is baby boy yes your sister is cute.” Amelia told her son. “Momma I pat Anna.” Scout asked. “Oh Scout you are so funny sometimes.” Link told his son. “Dadda I get ug? asked Scout. “Of course baby boy you can get a big hug.” Link said.

Link hugged his son while looking at baby Anna his life was perfect with Amelia and their two kids. Amelia and Link were a perfect little family with Scout and Anna. A couple of days passed when they brought home Anna from the hosptial. Scout was sleeping in his carseat when they arrived home. They were suprised to see Caroline at the doorstep of their house. They had no clue as to why she was there.

“Amelia I’ve tried to call you, you haven’t been answering are you okay?” Caroline asked. “I’m fine I suppose.” Amelia responded. “Did you just get out of a two year rehab? because you look awful my dear daughter.” Caroline said. “No I just came home from the hospital with Link we have just been busy the past couple of years.” Amelia said while Link handed Amelia Scout. “Whose this?” asked Caroline. “This is your grandson Scout Adam Lincoln.” Amelia said to her mother. “Grandson really you have a son and you didn’t tell me?” Caroline continuted. “Yes he’s 16 months old now and probably the smartest baby, next to Derek’s kids of course.” Amelia said. “Would you like to meet your Granddaughter Annabel Josephine Lincoln?” Link asked. “I have a Granddaughter as well?” Caroline asked. “Yes you do.” Amelia said. “When were you going to tell me about this?” Caroline asked. “Well to be honest I may have forgotten to tell you about Scout because we weren’t sure how to raise a child together, but now we have two so its not going to be as bad as the first.” Amelia said. “Yes but you see I came here because Liz saw you 6 months ago saying you were baby sitting, and I honestly wanted to know what you were up to.” Caroline said.

Caroline was suprised by her daughter’s life and how she has two grandchildern that she didn’t even know about. Link tried to get Ameila to call but apparenlty it slipped her mind. Caroline asked how old Anna was because she was small almost a newborn. She was suprised when Amelia and Link told her that Anna was just a few days old she loved her beautiful grandkids and wanted to spend more time with her daughter and daughter in law that she was very distant to for many years. Caroline was distant to Meredith because it was painful to admit that she missed her son and didn’t know if Meredith would be upset because she would visit. Meredith came to the house with Zola, Bailey, and Ellis. Zola reconized her Grandmother and ran to her. She hasn’t seen her since their fathers death. Bailey remembered her from pictures and computer chats with her. As for Ellis she was scared to meet her grandmother because she doesn’t know much about Derek’s side of the family other than Amelia. She has plenty of pictures of Derek and his sisters but Ellis was uncertain about her Grandmother. It wasn’t until Zola, and Bailey told her it was okay and that Scout was okay with her that she came around. After an hour of a visiting Caroline decided to take Zola, Bailey, Ellis, and Meredith out for Ice Cream while Amelia, Link, and Scout settle in with Anna. Scout was sleepy so Link put him down for a nap. Amelia went for a nap as well because she knew how Anna would be in a few hours. She however wasn’t aware of the amount of challenges would arise with raising two children under the age of 2 years old.

#amelia shepherd #atticus lincoln #meredith grey #zola shepherd #bailey shepherd #ellis shepherd #grey’s anatomy #amelink #baby link #fanfic

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narniagiftexchange · 5 years ago

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THE WINTER NARNIAN GIFT EXCHANGE.

for @kadmeread by @tarragonthedragon .

LACKING.

Edmund had always considered himself more similar to Susan than to Peter or Lucy. This had been the cause of some contention between the two of them– from Susan, who even at seven had liked to think herself much more grown up and sensible than her baby sister or her two brothers, and from Edmund, who hadn’t realised until he was at least twelve that Susan thought herself to be the only one with any brains at all almost as often as he did. It was, perhaps unfairly on either, a relief to both of them when the siblings, in Narnia or in England, found themselves split into older-and-younger, or brothers-and-sisters, since it meant that even if they didn’t happen to be correct on this particular occasion, then at least the other wasn’t there to be correct instead. Peter had been a wise king, and even when they were young again usually explained why he didn’t agree with them. And he was both of their older brother, which always made it sting a little less when he made the decisions. And Lucy, while rather more prone to gleeful I-told-you-so’s than any of her siblings, was eminently tolerable once they had been old enough once over to realise that she wouldn’t have been half as delighted to be right if she didn’t consider them both rather intelligent to begin with. Susan and Edmund left alone together, even well into middle age, were almost guaranteed to solve any problem that relied on wits or cleverness, but only once one or both of them had been in tears. Lucy and Peter, by contrast, had been the best of friends since she was just a baby, climbing his trousers and running to him in tears whenever Edmund, competitive even at five, had knocked his fellow toddler over.

Standing on the prow of the Dawn Treader, looking out at the empty water, Edmund wished Peter were here to talk to Lucy, to say just the right things and make it look like it was easy. Or Susan, who would probably just know somehow what had been bothering her since the Duffers’ island, and he could be angry at her for acting like it was obvious, instead of furious with himself for not knowing. But Lucy wouldn’t be standing here staring at the skyline if it was him who was hurt. Lucy, who always seemed certain of what she was going to do next, even if it wasn’t the cleverest or kindest thing, because it was almost always the best she could do. Lucy was the one who pushed, and let the others hold her back or be dragged along as they wished, because they hadn’t let her push on ahead since they had first come through the wardrobe together.

But it was just Edmund. Or, well, Edmund and Eustace, who was a loss less of an ass but still as much of a know-it-all as ever, and who was perched on a beam with Reepicheep again anyway. It would be like talking to Susan, except if Susan really was as stupid as he sometimes acted like she was in uncharitable moments.

This was probably an uncharitable moment. It would be even more uncharitable to assume that Peter and Susan and Lucy didn’t have those. Even if it did always seem unfairly easy for them to be kind, and nice, and good. Edmund only ever seemed to have a decent handle on good.

“You’re moping,” Eustace said, from right next to him. Edmund did not jump.

“I’m watching the horizon,” he replied, which had the benefit of being factually true if not much else.

“Is it because of whatever’s bothering Lucy?” Eustace asked. Clearly he had learnt a little more about being a decent chap, though Edmund rather sourly considered that if he had learnt any more he might not have come over to bother him.

Uncharitable again. This, frankly, was why Lucy didn’t usually let him alone for more than a day or so. If he forgot how annoying his siblings were, he started to remember how much more annoying he found everyone else.

“That’s a yes, then,” Eustace carried on. The area around them was suspiciously free of sailors, because Reepicheep was a little traitor. “Well, it’s not like I know anything about younger sisters–”

“No, you don’t.”

“But when I was brooding, you sent Reepicheep to hit me with a sword, and if you don’t talk to her I’m going to just assume the same tactic will work again.”

“You can’t–” Edmund broke off, scowling at Eustace’s gleefully smug face. “The difference is, I actually like Lucy when she’s herself.”

“I probably deserve that,” Eustace admitted. “But I promised Caspian I wouldn’t be an ass if he let me do this talk, so really I should be commended for the work I’m putting in.”

If Peter had said that, Edmund would have been certain it was a joke. With this new, rather less annoying and slightly less incompetent version of his cousin, it was very much a guess either way. He was spared having to respond by a shout of land, and rushed to his station.

Of course, because this was a magical voyage in Narnia, the shout of land led them to a lost lord and an island of thick mist and even before they saw anything Edmund could hear her, hear it, hear his nightmares looming down on them.

He was not much good at comforting his siblings. He was becoming worryingly good at resisting the call of the White Witch.

Lucy, because of course, was already making quick work of the horrors coming down upon them whilst he was transfixed. Lucy, who got angry instead of scared, leaped down to the deck in front of her brother with a kind of barely-human snarl the second Jadis was vanished, arrows flying and dagger flashing, not missing a step when he reclaimed himself enough to join the battle. And of course the sea serpent didn’t scare her, or if it did it didn’t stop her firing an arrow clean into the creature’s head.

He had never had a head for archery. Fighting was a lot easier, in Edmund’s book, when you had a sword and ‘at something’ was a good enough direction to swing it in a pinch. Clearly Eustace agreed with him, since he had managed to break one on scales like stone. Maybe it was a particular madness of the Pevensie sisters, because Susan didn’t get scared either, always channelling it into doing something useful.

Lucy sat down next to him behind a lashed-together row of barrels. “You’re thinking too much.”

“You don’t think enough,” he said, on fourteen-to-fifty years of fraternal instinct more than conscious thought.

“Well one of us has to be impulsive. You’d never get anything done if we sat around waiting for you three to decide what to do next.”

“Usually, we’re sitting around arguing about whose turn it is to hold onto you by the collar, actually.”

She huffed indignantly through her nose. “It’s not like I’m ever leading you wrong. I remember quite a lot of I-told-you-sos, when we were here the first time. And the second time, for that matter.”

“Not this time?”

“This time, we’ve got Eustace instead of Peter and Susan. There’s no fun in it with you two, you just mope and he ignores me.”

“I don’t mope,” he protested, biting back the urge to cry hypocrisy. “I ponder.”

“Maybe when you were a grown-up you’re pondered. You’re a teenager again, and you’ve been moping an awful lot.”

Edmund laughed. “He’s getting a lot better,” he said, making the most of the lack of uncharitable urges while it lasted. This turned out to be only a few seconds. “Aunt Alberta will be furious.”

Lucy hummed in agreement, and then paused, flopping over onto him. “I still wish we had them instead. I was just thinking, before– before the island. I was thinking that Peter would know exactly how to handle Eustace. And how to talk to him now that he’s not such a terror. And Eustace would probably listen to him.”

“People do,” he agreed. For a moment they made equally crinkled-nose expressions of frustration in silence, both thinking of being a king and queen grown. “I was thinking that if Susan were here, she’d have an answer for everything.”

Lucy went quiet. “I’ve been having rather uncharitable thoughts about Susan lately,” she admitted after some time.

Edmund bit back his initial response, which would not have been helpful. Lucy didn’t sound like she expected him to have much of a good response, but it wasn’t like anyone else on the ship would have a better one. “Would it shock you at all to know that I have uncharitable thoughts about Susan almost every time I talk to her? Sometimes even just hearing Caspian mention her is enough to set me off.”

“Edmund!”

“Just yesterday we went past a rock that looked a bit like her and I thought, she’d be awfully smug if I told her I thought that.”

“I saw that rock!” Lucy exclaimed before she could catch herself, and then bit down on her grin. “And anyway, I don’t mean..”

When it seemed like she wasn’t going to find the right words, Edmund sighed. “I always rather imagine that Susan has as many uncharitable thoughts about me as I do about her. It’s the ones about Peter I feel guilty about.”

“He can be quite annoying when he thinks he’s right.”

“He always thinks he’s right. And in charge. Somehow it’s less irritating when you do it.”

“I do not!” She pushed herself off his shoulder, glaring. “You always think you’re right, too!”

“So does Susan,” he commented. “And Eustace. Clearly there’s an awful lot of pride in the blood on that side.”

“Maybe that’s what’s needed in Narnia. Noone here seems to think like that.”

“It can’t be too bad, then, can it?”

Lucy bit her lip again, looking all of nine. “Or we’re supposed to learn better.”

“We did learn better,” he pointed out. “At least, I did. Eustace has. And you grew up an awful lot, the first time.”

“We all did. But then…”

There was nothing to be said for being young again, but at least she looked pensive rather than upset.

“Come on,” Edmund said, pulling himself up. “I’m going to borrow you a sword. Eustace doesn’t look nearly as scared of you as he should be, after that shot. We’ll have a spar on the starboard deck.”

Lucy grinned, thwacking his arm as he pulled her after him, but didn’t argue.

#tcon #tconedit #narnia #edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie #by tarragonofthedragon #for kadmeread #type: fanfiction #narnia exchange #winterexchange: 1

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anubislover · 5 years ago

Text

Welcome to the Heart Pirates, Nami-ya chapter 14: It’s All Fun and Games

The Polar Tang’s library was easily Nami’s favorite place on the submarine. For one, it was the coolest room on the whole ship as Law had put a considerable amount of resources into developing state-of-the-art climate control equipment to keep the books in good condition. Secondly, the walls were lined with shelves practically bursting with tomes on navigation, oceanography, geography, zoology, weather, history, and, of course, every type of medicine imaginable. Thirdly, it was comfortable; there were plush chairs and couches, a peaceful atmosphere, perfect lighting for reading, and a large table where she and Bepo could work on maps and other projects.

In fact, that’s exactly where the pair of navigators had been holed up over the past few days. Stacks of books on horticulture and gardening surrounded them as they furiously scribbled on sheets of graph paper, meticulously planning out the new greenhouse. With the money they’d accrued from the gala heist, Clione had managed to purchase the equipment needed for solar lights and the sprinkler system. Now it was up to Nami and Bepo to decide which plants should go where so the engineers could start the installation process. It was trickier than it sounded; due to the combination of medicinal herbs and produce, many with different watering and sunlight requirements, the room needed to be carefully mapped out for peak efficiency.

“What do you think of this layout, Nami?” Bepo asked, handing her a rough sketch. “Rough” being the key word—though there was a marked improvement over the past few months, even under Nami’s careful tutelage, his drawing skills still left much to be desired.

Despite the giant sweatdrop falling down the back of her head, Nami forced a happy grin. “It’s a good start! What corner are we putting the aloe plants in?”

“Well, they need a lot of sunlight, so I thought the west corner?”

She studied her notes carefully, a deep wrinkle forming across her brow. “Hmm, but that’s the area that also gets watered the most. According to the books, aloe needs to be watered deeply, but infrequently; otherwise it’ll rot.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied, round ears drooping as he hung his head, a gloomy cloud forming around him.

“It’s ok! We can make a dry corner—a section that has a lot of sunlight, but no sprinkler system. We’ll manually water those on a strict schedule.”

He perked up at the suggestion. “Maybe we can have a chart or something next to those with specific instructions to avoid confusion? And some plastic curtains to block out the spray from the sprinklers so it stays dry?”

“Great idea!” she replied, smile much more genuine this time. With how sensitive Bepo was, she’d forced herself to adopt a more calm, motherly demeanor when working with him. He was a lot like Chopper; sweet and a little naïve but extremely intelligent in his specialized field. She wondered if perhaps, like the blue-nosed reindeer, he’d been bullied when he was young. Had people thought he was a monster, too?

“Thanks, Nami,” Bepo said, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. “Actually, the island we’re heading to has the aloe variety that Law uses—I know we’re not ready for a full greenhouse, but maybe we could pick up some fresh plants and set up one of the sunlamps in here as a tester since it’s the driest room.”

At the mention of the captain, Nami had to bite back a frustrated sigh. Law had been pretty much intolerable for the past week. She’d thought she’d seen the worst of his insomniac tendencies when he’d been working on the fertilizer, but this was so much worse. He stayed in his room practically all day, and on the rare occasion he emerged he’d been broody and snappish. Most of the crew had chalked it up to stress and lack of sleep again, but Nami could tell they were trying to hide their concern. This wasn’t a hyper fixation like the fertilizer had been—this was an obsession over something personal.

However, she dared not press the matter—Law wasn’t like Luffy or Zoro, whom she could knock over the head and nag into submission. And if his mood did have anything to do with the Amber Lead vase, she was even warier. She still distinctly remembered his rage after the gala—he’d implied that the World Government had covered up the truth that the infamous disease wasn’t contagious. Maybe he wanted the vase to prove it? To spit in the eye of those who had callously doomed an entire city?

Seeing the frown on her face, Bepo sulked. “I’m worried about him too.”

“I’m not worried about him,” she huffed, crossing her arms stubbornly.

The Mink ignored her denial. “I wish he’d get more sleep. I know he’s working on a plan, but he still needs his rest.”

“Why don’t you just drug him or something?” she asked a bit petulantly. Really, she was mostly upset that Law was needlessly troubling his crew. Didn’t he realize how much they cared about him? “There’s plenty of sedatives aboard the ship.”

“Oh no!” Bepo cried, black eyes widening in horror. “Law’d be furious if we did that! There’s too much risk involved. What if we were attacked? He’d be too out of it to fight or take care of the wounded.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she acquiesced, slumping forward and resting her chin on her crossed forearms. Chopper would probably have the same objections. Except a sleep-deprived, angry doctor wasn’t much better than a doped-up one. “Still, he needs a nap or something. He’s been acting like a toddler.”

“Careful who you call a toddler, Nami-ya,” Law’s deep voice rasped in her ear, startling a shriek from her throat as she jerked upright, nearly smacking his chin with the back of her head. “And keep your voice down—you’re in a library.”

“Oh, go to hell, Law!” she snapped, twisting around in her chair to glare up at him. “What are you skulking around for, anyway?” Not that she should really complain—he was actually out of his room, after all.

Striding past her, he perused the history section before selecting a large, faded tome. “It’s my ship—I’ll go where I please.”

“Well, how about you please go to bed?” she argued. Screw not pressing the issue—maybe she couldn’t knock him over the head like her own crew, but she could sure as hell nag, and clearly someone had to. And he wouldn’t attack her with Bepo around, right? “You don’t want to screw up someone’s medication like you did last time you were overtired, right?”

The glare he threw over his shoulder was so full of malice Nami shrank down in her chair. Though a valid point, she knew her comment had hit below the belt.

“Watch your tongue, Nami-ya, or else I’ll remove it,” he sneered. Even with the shadow his hat cast over the top half of his face, Nami could clearly see his eyes were bloodshot and the bags underneath were even darker than usual. “Getting that vase is going to take even more planning than the gala, and I’ve got less information to go on and maybe a third of the time. Even if I could calm my mind enough to sleep, I simply don’t have the time to spare.”

“Look, I know you’re the devious schemer around here, but you’re also the doctor. You of all people should know the importance of getting proper rest. If you’re that worried about your plan, I can help you; burglary is literally the reason you brought me on,” she argued, arms spread wide.

A deep frown marred his face as he shook his head. “No. After what you went through on Grimm, I want you to take it easy until we get to Atifakuto—that’s when I’ll need your help. You’re lucky I’m even letting you work on the greenhouse plans.” He glanced down at the piles of papers strewn across the table. “By the way, I want to look those over later.”

She smacked her forehead in exasperation. “Seriously? Your own plans aren’t enough to keep you occupied? You have way too much on your plate as it is. For God’s sake, just take a break and get some fucking sleep!”

Long fingers gripped the book in his hands so tightly Nami could hear the leather binding groan. “Don’t you dare give me orders on my own fucking ship, Nami-ya.”

“Captain,” Bepo interrupted quietly, voice nearly a whimper, “do you promise to at least try to get some sleep when we get to the island tomorrow? Even just a short nap? It’ll be sunny and warm and safe—maybe your mind will settle down there.”

There was a moment of tense silence as a pair of round black eyes shimmered pleadingly, desperately hoping to put an end to the argument.

“Shit. Quit being so cute,” Law muttered under his breath. Narrow shoulders heaved in a sigh. Not even the Surgeon of Death could be mad at the sweet Mink when he sounded so genuinely concerned. “I promise to try. At the very least, I’ll spend some time outside; I’m sure all this time underwater hasn’t exactly helped my vitamin D deficiency. So long as no one gets any ideas about giving me another lovely sunburn,” he quipped, scowling at the mikan-hair woman meaningfully.

Nami held up her hands in surrender. Even though he totally deserved another prank due to his prickly behavior, it was way more important that he had enough peace of mind to get in even a small amount of sleep.

Damn, she thought to herself as Law stalked out of the library. Bepo’s right; I really am worried about that idiot.

XXX

Cousteau Island was small but beautiful. By Nami’s estimation, it had been an undersea volcano that had risen up less than a hundred years ago. Shaped like a fat crescent moon, the majority of the land was covered in lush jungle and lined with smooth, sandy beaches. The surrounding ocean was nearly teal, full of tropical fish and rainbow-colored coral. Fruits like bananas, coconuts, and pineapples grew in abundance, but there didn’t appear to be much wildlife—mostly birds and sea turtles who had decided the uninhabited island was the perfect spot to lay their eggs due to a lack of predators.

“How did you guys find this place?” Nami asked Bepo, not bothering to keep the awe from her voice as they surfaced in the cove. “I’ve never heard of Cousteau Island, and it wasn’t the atlas.”

More than happy to tell the tale of their lucky discovery, her fellow navigator explained, “It’s a summer island we found when a storm blew us off course. It’s so tiny its magnetic field is hidden by Grimm’s, so it doesn’t show up on a log pose—we had to make an eternal pose to get back. It’s also surrounded by a massive reef that’ll destroy most other ships if they get close, but we found the underwater tunnel to get through. It’s completely uninhabited, so we claimed it and use it as a hideout.”

Glancing around, Nami could see the skeletal remains of what looked like a pirate ship wedged onto the rocks, along with debris scattered along the beach. They appeared to be several months old, however, so she doubted they’d be running into any castaways. “How’d it get its name?”

“Cousteau found the safe path to the island, so we let him name it,” Law interjected bluntly, though not without a hint on begrudging affection for the diver/oceanographer. “Otherwise, it would have been ‘Trafalgar Cove’.”

Nami nodded in understanding, too pleased at the possibility of mapping out a brand-new island and taking a vacation to mock him for the blatant arrogance. It seemed Law hadn’t been making empty promises when he told her the island would be much more relaxing. Now all he had to do was keep his promise about getting some sleep.

Upon landing, the crew spent the better part of the morning setting up chairs, umbrellas, a volleyball net, blankets, tables, and everything else they could think of for a fantastic day on the beach. Surprisingly, getting the bonfire and grill started was the easiest part; debris from the shipwrecked pirate ship, which seemed to mostly consist of the shattered remains of wooden crates and barrels, littered the shore, so there was no need to cut down trees. By noon, the last of the preparations were finished, and after a quick lunch, the crew split off into their own groups.

Cousteau and Crozier led Clione, Darter, Sgt. Pepper, Ajisahi, Tsunomedori, and Shiroruka to explore the jungle, promising to be back by sunset with fresh fruit, water, and the aloe Law wanted. Skua and Malamute, two of Ikkaku’s fellow engineers, elected to stay on the ship to perform some maintenance. The rest, led by Penguin and Shachi, chose to change into bathing suits so they could all enjoy some much-needed relaxation on the beach.

“Incoming!” Nami shouted, spiking the blue and yellow beach ball hard over the net, scoring the winning point for her team.

“Nice shot!” Ikkaku cheered, high-fiving her partner.

“And that’s the match!” Ermine sniggered from their spot by the grill as they cleaned the assortment fish Jude, Uni, and Seiuchi had caught for dinner, careful to keep their long brown braids free of fish guts. The cook had been thoroughly amused throughout the game—they’d never pass up the chance to watch the first and second mate get trounced by a pair of pretty ladies in swimwear. “Did you guys even score a single point?”

“Ah, shuddup,” Shachi groused as he fell back onto a nearby towel, though his displeasure at losing didn’t stop him from ogling Nami and Ikkaku’s sun-kissed bodies. Nami had elected to don a cherry red, lace-up one-piece that tantalizingly showed off her legs and cleavage. Ikkaku’s was comparatively more modest, being a sporty, black, high-neck two-piece, though the mesh across her breasts didn’t hide much.

The swimwear had been a tactical choice—the moment Penguin and Shachi had proposed a game of volleyball, the girls knew there was no better way to distract them. And with such a devious plan, they of course added on a friendly wager—losers do the winners’ cleaning duties for the next month.

“Man, they destroyed you,” Jude mocked from his chair, black bowl cut shining in the late afternoon sun.

“Like you would have done any better,” Penguin argued as he took a swig from his water bottle.

“Doesn’t matter—I’m not the one with double cleaning duty.”

“You’re all getting extra chores if you don’t quit your damn whining and let me work in peace,” a dark, irritable voice called.

Law was seated a dozen feet away from the makeshift volleyball court on a wide beach blanket, Bepo snoozing softly behind him. As promised, he’d managed to doze for a short while in the sun, but it hadn’t done much for his mood. In fact, it seemed that with that small bit of rest, he’d become even more determined to work on his plan instead of relax like his body clearly needed. So, despite the protests of his crew, he’d attempted to return to his work inside the ship.

However, the maintenance had proven noisy enough to force him back outside, stacks of books and papers in hand, and he’d sullenly plopped onto the blanket beside his navigator, resolute to get some work done despite the universe’s clear attempts to stop him.

In Nami’s opinion, he looked absurd in his black and yellow swim trunks surrounded by notebooks full of messy scribblings and huge history books. He was like a nerdy brat who’d been forced on a family vacation but opted to petulantly do homework on the beach instead of have fun.

Sure, he was a hot nerdy brat, but she could also see the signs that his obsessive planning was taking its toll on his body. The definition of his muscles was starting to fade, and he looked thinner. Tan skin appeared dull even in the bright sun, and there wasn’t enough concealer in the world to cover up his eyebags now.

“Ok, this is ridiculous,” Nami grumbled with a scowl. She squeezed the volleyball between her hands, briefly imagining it was Law’s thick skull. “Even post-catnap he’s being a grumpy bastard.”

Ducking beneath the net to stand beside her, Penguin nodded in agreement. “Normally I’d say leave him alone and let him deal with it at his own pace, but this is different.”

“He told you what we’re going after?” she asked lowly, keeping her voice down to avoid disturbing the man in question or risk him eavesdropping.

“Yeah. That’s why I’m worried.” Penguin gave her a sidelong glance. “Amber Lead’s a touchy subject with him. Think this is bad? It was way worse when we sailed the North Blue.”

“What’s his deal with it?”

“It’s not my place to say. What’s important is that we get his mind off of it. All this brooding’s just going to make his insomnia worse, and it’s completely killing the party mood.”

“Any suggestions?”

“You could give him a lap dance.”

Before anyone could blink, Penguin was on the ground, a grapefruit-sized lump throbbing on his head. “Ow! I was kidding,” he moaned.

Nami cracked her knuckles. “Got any legit suggestions?” she growled, a murderous look in her eyes.

“Leave it to me,” Shachi chimed in, getting up from his towel. His gait was determined as he marched over to his captain. Standing directly in the man’s sunlight, he waited until Law glared up at him in annoyance.

“Move.”

“Nope.”

“That’s an order.”

“Nothin’ doin’.”

“If you don’t move in the next five seconds, they’ll be using your head as the volleyball.”

“Go ahead—the rest of me will still be right here, blocking your light.”

Rubbing a hand over his frustrated face, Law half-growled, half-sighed, “What the fuck do you want?”

Shachi crossed his arms over his chest. “This is supposed to be a vacation, but you’re bringing down the whole mood. So, unless you want a mutiny on your hands, you’re gonna play the King Game with us.”

Gold eyes narrowed ominously. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Law, you’ve been a brooding pain in the ass for eight days. I get you’re dealing with a lot of shit, but if you expect us to just sit by and let you kill yourself with planning and sulking, well, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“I refuse to leave things to chance,” Law snapped, gesturing towards the large pile of notes and books before him. “The plan hinges on me memorizing all of this. I don’t have time for stupid games.”

“Dude, too much stress from studying can cause brain inflammation and result in memory loss or depression. So unless you take a break, you’re more likely to forget this stuff and your plan will be ruined.”

“Please, Captain?” Bepo chimed in from behind him, black eyes once more shimmering with beseeching tears. He’d awoken at the mention of the King Game; it was one of his favorites, and there was no way he was going to let Law miss out.

Another sigh, this one more resigned as the stubborn captain massaged his temples. The combination of scientific facts and Bepo’s puppy-dog eyes was especially effective in his weakened state. “How long do I have to play?”

Shachi grinned triumphantly. “No less than thirty minutes. Come on; it’s a relaxing, easy game. Heck, you might not even end up having to do anything.”

“If that’s the case, it’ll be an even bigger waste of time.”

“Law, when have you ever considered watching us act like idiots a waste of time?”

He couldn’t argue with that. “Do you promise to leave me in peace afterward?”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” he said with a mock salute. “Now, is your grumpy ass going to join us, or are we coming to you?”

“Fine, fine,” he growled, carefully marking his place in his books and laying Kikoku across the papers so they wouldn’t blow away in the wind. Bepo hefted him to his feet despite his grumbled protests, ushering him towards the group that had formed. Jean Bart, Uni, Jude, Ermine, and Seiuchi had come to join them, plopping down onto the sandy beach in hopes of cheering up their moody captain.

“Ok,” Shachi began, clapping his hands together eagerly, “does everyone know how to play this?”

“We all draw popsicle sticks. Each stick has a number except for one that has a crown. Whoever draws the crown is the ‘King’ and can order one or two numbers to do anything they want,” Jean Bart answered bluntly.

“Within reason,” Ikkaku interjected, pointing her finger at Jude and Seiuchi. “Nothing R-rated.”

“Surprised you guys are so tame,” Nami giggled, glancing around the circle.

“Things got a little out of hand once,” Uni said vaguely while everyone else mumbled in uncomfortable agreement. “A lot of rum was involved.”

“Say no more.” Nami could easily imagine, with a crew of mostly men, just how insane the game could get under the influence of alcohol.

The warm dusting of pink that broke out across Penguin’s cheeks confirmed her suspicions. “Anything goes so long as it’s PG-13 and doesn’t cause grievous bodily harm.”

“Whatever,” Law grumbled from his spot beside Bepo, still determined to remain sour and unpleasant throughout his prescribed dose of forced fun.

Rolling his eyes at their captain’s less-than-enthused reaction, Shachi held out his fist clutching the popsicle sticks. “The sooner you start playing, the sooner we’ll let you get back to your brooding, Boss.”

The answering glare was ignored by the crew in favor of drawing a number, with Ikkaku cheering loudly, “Oh yeah! Guess who’s the King!”

“But girls can’t be kings!” Shachi teased, quickly ducking the fist he knew would be coming.

“Buddy, you’re lucky I’m not royalty—otherwise I’d have you drawn and quartered for that crap,” she snapped, but there was no real venom in her tone. If Nami had to guess, this was a joking argument they had every time. “But as your temporary ruler, I decree that numbers eight and five should do a handstand contest. First to fall loses.”

“I’m eight,” Uni stated, getting to his feet.

“And I’m five,” said Jean Bart.

“This’ll be over quick,” Ermine whispered to Nami. “If he hadn’t gone into piracy, Uni would have been a great circus acrobat. Or maybe a ninja.”

Nami stared at the mysterious Heart Pirate, impressed. Perhaps she could ask him for a few tips—balance was vital when you were a burglar.

To everyone’s surprise, though, despite Jean Bart’s massive size, he kept his balance remarkably well even on the soft sand, managing to stay up for nearly a full two minutes until finally yielding.

“Saint Charlos would regularly make me perform for him,” he explained, tone nonchalant but the tension in his shoulders betraying his discomfort. “I was basically his circus monkey.”

“Crap, I’m sorry, Jean,” Ikkaku replied, looking guilty. Even though it had been completely unintentional, bringing up the former slave’s past was generally regarded as an unspoken taboo.

He lifted his shoulder in a half-shrug, though he wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. “It’s fine. At least this time I could stop when I wanted and didn’t get beaten after.”

Everyone in the circle winced. The Celestial Dragons really were a piece of work.

“Alright, next round,” Shachi changed the topic as he collected and shuffled the sticks, trying to keep the party mood from turning sour and to give Jean Bart the opportunity to step back out of the spotlight.

This time, Bepo had the luck of being King. “Uh, I order number three to scratch behind the King’s ears for a full minute,” he said shyly, tapping his claws together bashfully. “I mean, only if they want to.”

“Do I?” Nami called cheerfully, climbing to her feet and scurrying over to the cute bear. Immediately she buried her fingers in his thick fur, manicured nails scraping across Bepo’s sensitive skin in quick little flicks. The Mink immediately leaned into her touch, growling happily, and she swore she saw his foot twitch like a dog’s.

So cuuuute! Nami thought, working her hands even deeper into the white coat. And so soft! Almost as soft as Chopper! She allowed herself a brief daydream of cuddling up by a fire on a cold winter’s night, using Bepo as a pillow while Chopper lay against her legs in his reindeer form.

“That’s enough you two.” Law’s voice broke her out of her fantasy, and instinctively Nami glared at him. However, she didn’t miss the brief hint of a grin that tugged at his lips at the sight of his navigator so happy. “Bepo looks like he’s about to pass out.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Jealous?”

His face settled back in a scowl. “If I’m stuck playing this game, I’d rather not waste time watching my navigators fondle each other.”

Annoyed, Nami gave Bepo one more pointed scratch before returning to her spot. Darn. For a second, she’d thought Law might have started to relax a bit. Instead, he was stubbornly staying too grumpy to even flirt with her, and she’d lobbed him a softball!

The lots were pulled again, with Uni earning the King spot. “Number ten must sit in number one’s lap for the next three rounds.”

Ermine was the unlucky one, as Bepo gingerly lowered himself onto the cook’s lap.

“I’m putting you on a diet!” they groaned, voice muffled by the Mink’s thick fur as their legs sank deep into the sand under the added weight of a fully-grown polar bear.

“I’m sorry,” Bepo replied miserably, hanging his head.

“You’re not putting him on a diet,” Law snapped, glaring at his crushed subordinate. “Bepo’s a healthy weight for his size and species.”

Ermine didn’t dare argue. Not just because trying to do so with the ship’s doctor would be suicide, but because they didn’t have enough air in their lungs.

“Since Ermine’s a bit…indisposed at the moment, I think they should sit this one out,” Penguin stated as he collected the sticks.

“Agreed,” they wheezed.

Discarding one of the numbered sticks for later, the first mate held out his fist, prompting everyone to draw.

Nami was the lucky lady, and she gave a catlike grin as she considered her potential victims. Should she demand their wallets? No, they were wearing swimsuits, so they probably wouldn’t have them on them. Have someone kiss her feet? Whatever it was, it needed to be devious and hilarious if she wanted any chance at getting Law to enjoy himself. The man took sadistic pleasure in other peoples’ discomfort, after all.

The perfect idea came to her like a vision from God. No matter who her command was inflicted on, it would be funny, but if luck was on her side…

“Numbers two and three have to kiss each other on the lips for three seconds.”

Inwardly she cheered as, across from her, the first and second mate gaped down at their numbers in abject horror.

“You know, I used to like you,” Shachi groused while Penguin glared at her.

“Ha!” Ermine laughed weakly from under Bepo’s furry mass. “Looks like I got off easy.”

“Watch it, asshole, or I’ll take my sweet time and let you suffer!”

“Nami, please reconsider!” Penguin begged, shuddering at the mere thought of kissing his best friend. “We agreed to keep it PG-13, remember?”

The Straw Hat shrugged nonchalantly, which was heavily at odds with the evil grin etched on her face. “It’s just a peck—hardly anything scandalous.”

“A three-second peck is still three seconds too long!”

“Aww, don’t tell me you’re afraid of cooties!” Ikkaku jeered, which made Penguin blush in embarrassment.

“I’m not afraid of anything! I just have standards!” Shachi defended himself.

“Hey!” Penguin snapped, looking wholly offended. “Fucking excuse me, but standards? I’ve seen some of the women you’ve slept with, and I’m sure as hell prettier than your last one-night stand!”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean, creampuff?”

“It means you can’t attract good-looking women to save your life, barnacle-face!”

Nami rolled her eyes at the childish fight and was about ready to knock them both over the heads to put an end to the argument when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye.

For a second, it looked like Law’s mouth had twitched upwards. It could have been a trick of the light, or he was actually amused by his friends’ obvious discomfort just as she’d planned. Not willing to let the chance to get Law back in good spirits slip away, Nami pointedly cleared her throat to catch the duo’s attention.

Clasping her hands together and batting her eyelashes, she gave her best pout. “Please, boys? For me?”

“And me?” Ikkaku joined in, mimicking Nami’s flirtatious pose.

Weak against the machinations of such beautiful women, their resolve wavered and Nami, locking eyes with Penguin, jerked her head towards his captain and gave a subtle thumbs up. Penguin seemed to catch on to her meaning, as he gave a small, resigned nod before sighing and grabbing Shachi’s head to slam their mouths together for a quick, awkward kiss.

The moment his grip loosened, Shachi jerked away, spitting and sputtering with disgust. “Oh gods! My mouth! You’ve poisoned me!”

“Believe me, I didn’t like it any more than you did, dickhead,” Penguin grumbled as he furiously wiped his lips. Taking pity on the poor man, Ikkaku passed him his water bottle, though she didn’t bother to repress her snigger when he swished a large gulp of water around his mouth before spitting it out.

Meanwhile, Nami peered at Law, hoping his sour shell had finally cracked. But while he wasn’t glaring at them all like he was plotting how to brutally murder them and hide the evidence, his expression was still far from his normal carefree smirk.

“Good to see you’re both so secure in your masculinity,” he sneered.

“Give me a break, Law,” Shachi coughed, though there was a slight hint of red in his cheeks at being called out. “She might as well have asked me to kiss my brother. My gross, ugly-ass brother.”

“Love you too, man,” Penguin replied sarcastically as he collected the lots, pointedly ignoring the rest of the crew’s sniggering.

The next two rounds, though amusing, were fairly uneventful; Jude got his feet kissed by Jean Bart, much to the larger man’s obvious disdain, and Nami, upon becoming King again, demanded a shoulder massage, which Ikkaku was all too happy to give. The rest of the men certainly had no complaints about getting to watch the two beautiful women in sexy bathing suits pamper each other, so the round lasted nearly a full five minutes without even Law interjecting to hurry them up.

In fact, Nami could feel Law’s hot gaze upon her as she arched into Ikkaku’s touch. The engineer was surprisingly good with her hands and her skilled fingers even managed to coax out a few pleased sighs from the thief’s lips as she worked at a knot of tension in her shoulders. Through hooded eyes, Nami noticed the tip of Law’s pink tongue peek out to moisten his lips as he leaned forward, resting his chin on steepled fingers as he observed the motions of Ikkaku’s fingers as they kneaded her skin.

Nami had the feeling that he was taking notes for his own fiendish use. Her suspicions were confirmed when Ikkaku managed to press down on the sensitive junction of her neck and shoulder; Law’s golden eyes practically lit up when she let out a faint, involuntary sound of delight.

The attention they were getting didn’t escape Ikkaku’s notice, either. “God, you’re all animals,” she groused, rolling her eyes as she pulled away from Nami. Patting her friend on the head, she said, “I’ll finish the job back our cabin, Nami. Away from prying eyes.”

“Sounds good to me,” she teased back despite her mild flush. She justified the sense of satisfaction she felt to the fact that, despite the show being over, some of the tension in Law’s shoulders has eased as if he’d been the one getting the massage. He hadn’t quite reached to point of relaxation, but it was clear the game was successfully beginning to distract him from his obsessive planning.

A few more rounds passed before Penguin had the good luck of becoming King. He rubbed his chin in thought as he considered his order. “Number eight has to do an impression of number one.”

“Ooo, I got eight!” Ikkaku shouted, grinning widely. A gleam of pure mischief twinkled in her brown eyes. Across from her, Law sighed, raising the stick to show he was number one.

“Remember who signs your paychecks,” he grumbled, scowl once more settling across his face.

“‘Remember who signs your paychecks’,” she repeated, voice dropping a few octaves as she smirked. Getting up, she struck a few poses, dramatically holding out her hands like Law did when he used his powers. “Room. Shambles.”

The group chuckled and sniggered around them while Law continued to glare up at the engineer as if he was trying to set her ablaze with his mind. None of them felt particularly bad about cheering Ikkaku on; considering what she’d gone through on Grimm, she was probably the only one besides Nami who could get away with a less-than-flattering impersonation of the captain. In fact, Jude and Seiuchi decided to aid her impression by getting up and switching places in the circle, gasping in mock surprise at their new positions.

Emboldened by her fellow Heart Pirates’ approval, Ikkaku melodramatically recoiled from some imaginary horror, face twisting in disgust. “Ugh, is that bread?! So help me, I’ll switch your brain and your bowels if I find so much as a crumb on my plate!”

Nami stifled a cackle behind her palm as she noticed Law’s cheeks heat up just the slightest bit. “I do not sound like that,” he scoffed, arms folded tightly across his tattooed chest.

Ikkaku donned a serious expression, mimicking his posture and frowning down at Law as if in the midst of a stern lecture. Their eyes locked, and an unspoken challenge was declared. “Ikkaku, you can’t install lasers onto the sides of the ship because they’re not yellow! I committed to this obnoxious color scheme, and damn it, you’re not going to ruin it with your cool ideas!”

“I never said that.”

“Ikkaku, you’re the most brilliant, valuable member of my crew and I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

“I definitely never said that.”

“Ikkaku, you’re fired.”

“Now that I have said. Multiple times.”

Plopping down onto the sand and reclining against Bepo, she cheekily flipped her captain off. However, it seemed the ridiculousness of the situation finally broke Law, as his scowl dissolved as he chuckled and returned the gesture, admitting defeat.

Whether he was overtired or he legitimately found it funny, it didn’t matter; at last, the brooding captain was having a bit of fun.

Determined to keep his spirits up, the crew eagerly drew numbers again, each planning their own silly command. Seuichi had the honor of becoming King that round and rubbed his hands together eagerly. “Number nine has to wrestle number six.”

“In the name of every god ever dreamed up throughout history, I will make you fucking pay for this,” Jude snarled at him as Jean Bart proved that he’d drawn number nine.

“Hey, Jude, don’t be afraid,” the gunner countered with a smirk, twirling his thin mustache deviously. “I’m sure Jean Bart will go easy on you. I mean, it’s not like you had him kiss your feet recently, right?”

“Yeah,” the helmsman said menacingly, cracking his knuckles. “You’ve never done that.”

Jude stared at Law beseechingly, but the captain merely smirked and ordered, “You reap what you sow. Maybe this'll teach you to be a bit nicer to your shipmates.”

“This is gonna suck,” he muttered as he squared off against the much larger man.

It did. Jude didn’t even last ten seconds before he was put in a headlock and forced to tap out.

Next, Law drew the King stick, and that oh-so-familiar smirk finally adorned his face. “I order ten and five to worship me and declare how great I am.”

Nami gave a quiet sigh of relief that she hadn’t drawn either number. She wanted Law in a good mood, but a girl had her limits. Game or not, her literally worshiping him on her knees was the exact kind of thing he’d hold over her head for the rest of the year.

After Uni and Penguin finished extolling their captain’s virtues for a good three minutes, it was time for the next round.

“Woo, I’m the King!” Shachi cheered as he held up the stick adorned with the little crown drawing. Behind his sunglasses, he peered at the circle mischievously. Reaching into a nearby beach bag, he pulled out a small box. “Your illustrious ruler demands that number seven and number four play three rounds of the Pocky Game.”

Glancing down at her popsicle stick, Nami silently cursed her luck; the number seven was written at the top in bold, black marker. Brown eyes darted about the group, wondering who she’d have to play with until they landed on Law’s wide smirk. Silently, he turned his stick for all to see, showcasing the number four neatly printed at the top.

“Holy crap,” Shachi sniggered. He didn’t even need to see Nami’s number—her mortified expression said it all. “Karma’s a bitch, ain’t it?”

Gleeful at the unexpected vengeance, Penguin eagerly leaned forward to hand her the box. “No need to be shy, number seven. It’s just the Pocky Game—hardly anything scandalous, right?”

The navigator glared at him before heaving out a sigh. “Right,” she grumbled, grabbing the strawberry pocky and shuffling over to sit across from Law. It was for the greater good, right? They were trying to keep the grumpy captain out of his sour bubble. It was no big deal; she could always break away before their mouths got anywhere near each other.

Smug grin widening, the captain leaned in as Nami slipped the creme-covered biscuit stick between her lips. “It’s ok if you chicken out after the first bite, Nami-ya,” he teased as he gently bit down on the other end, gold eyes bright with amusement.

Fire flashed in Nami’s eyes. She might not mind being a coward in most situations, but this time, her pride was on the line.

Her righteous courage abandoned her quickly, though. The moment she felt his hot breath tickle her nose she jerked away, blushing in embarrassment as she realized there was still a good two inches of pocky dangling from Law’s mouth.

“Ready for round two?” he asked, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he chewed on the crunchy treat.

“Only if you’re ready to eat what’s basically a breadstick,” she countered, hoping to gross him out so he’d back down.

Law didn’t fall for her ploy. “It’s closer to a cookie, really, and those I can stomach. Especially if the prize at the end is worth it,” he replied with a leer, deliberately running his tongue along his upper lip.

Why am I even freaking out about this? Nami wondered as she pulled out another stick of pocky. If we do end up kissing, who cares? It’s just a brush of lips. Completely innocent. No worse than Shachi and Penguin’s peck. More importantly, I can’t let him psyche me out—he wants that way more than a tiny, indirect kiss.

Determination returned, she carefully balanced the thin treat between her teeth, steeling herself as Law slowly leaned in to take the other end. This time, they managed to nearly bite their way to the middle. Unfortunately, a gentle breeze blew in, causing a loose strand of Nami’s sweetly scented hair to flutter against Law’s nose. His nostrils twitched at the delicate tickling, and this time he pulled away, turning his head in anticipation of a sneeze that never came.

“Shit,” he growled, annoyed at his ill luck.

A smug smirk curled Nami’s lips. “Now who’s the one chickening out?” she teased.

“I didn’t chicken out. Or would you rather I sneeze all over your pretty face?”

“Yeah, that was one hell of a sneeze,” she replied sarcastically. She didn’t know why she was provoking him—the man was far from shy about looking for an excuse to kiss her, and her cheek basically guaranteed that he wouldn’t let her off easy in the last round.

She refused to acknowledge the tiny voice in her ear whispering that she knew damn well why she was egging him on. That she got a primal thrill sassing such a dangerous man and coming out alive when so many others couldn’t. Taunting Law was like playing with a tiger; he could rip her to shreds if she grew too careless, but he’d wouldn’t sink his claws in so long as he enjoyed the chase.

Law stuck the final stick of pocky between his teeth, beckoning her forward with a “come hither” curl of his finger. In response, Nami rested her hands on his bare knees as she leaned in, bracing herself as she wrapped her lips around the other end. Their gazes locked, and in sync, they slowly started nibbling along the sweet, crunchy stick.

The seconds dragged by as, inch by inch, their faces drew closer. Nami tensed as she felt his exhalation warm her skin, while Law’s eyes suspiciously flicked towards her hair as if daring it to interfere again. However, neither pulled away, and he pounced on the opportunity presented to him; angling his head and closing the last centimeter between them to brush his lips across hers in a chaste but teasing fashion. When Nami didn’t immediately pull away, Law tested his luck further by lightly catching her plump bottom lip between his teeth before flicking the tip of his tongue to soothe it.

The action sent tingles down Nami’s spine and she finally broke away, cheeks red and breath quickening minutely. It had been barely more than a few seconds—the kiss she’d given him at the gala had been longer—but the tension between them had made it a tempting, sizzling experience.

“So,” Law drawled, watching the Cat Thief as she shuffled back to her spot like the hungry tiger he was, “who’s up for another round?”

The pair was so focused on each other they didn’t notice Shachi and Penguin subtly low-five while Bepo and Ikkaku shared a thumbs-up.

XXX

“Seriously? We leave you alone for a few minutes and you’re back at your plans?” Nami sighed as she plopped onto the towel next to Law, eyeing the messy papers in his hands disdainfully. The King Game had ended not long ago with everyone in good spirits. Even Nami, despite her lingering embarrassment from the kiss, had managed to enjoy the final round where Jude had to serenade the crew by singing “Dr. Heart Stealer.”

“The deal was that I would play for thirty minutes and then you all would leave me in peace,” he replied, not even looking up from his notes. He’d escaped back to his makeshift workstation the moment Bepo had inadvertently caused a commotion when, tempted by the smell of fresh fish, he’d absconded with the large sea bass Ermine was preparing to grill. The rest of the crew had chased after him; some in hopes of saving their dinner, others treating it as a new game.

That left no one but Nami to confront the workaholic captain, even though she would have been happier to keep her distance for a while longer. “That deal was solely between you and Shachi as you were non-specific regarding the plurality of ‘you’. You really must be tired if you missed an important detail like that.”

He scowled, realizing that she was right but refusing to admit it. Changing tactics, Law tilted his head slightly, smirking down at her with hooded eyes. “If you’re so concerned, I’ll take another break later if you make it worth my while. Perhaps with another round of the Pocky Game?” he purred.

She flushed slightly at his suggestion but refused to let him distract her, instead turning her attention to the books before them. “You have five seconds to finish whatever you’re doing before I toss those into the ocean.”

Annoyed, he glared at her defiance before reluctantly activating his Room, teleporting the books, papers, and Kikoku safely inside the submarine. There was too much of a risk that she’d make good on her threat and destroy his work, and he also wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself from cutting her to bits if she did. “That’s the last order you get to give me tonight, Nami-ya,” he grumbled. “I don’t take kindly to being bossed around.”

Rolling her eyes at his stubbornness, she leaned back on her hands, enjoying the sensation of the warm sun on her face. Honestly, he should be thanking her. Days like these were too perfect to waste studying, and the tide was coming in—his work would be ruined anyway if he didn’t get those books off the beach. “You really are such a control freak. Would it kill you to listen to the wisdom of those around you for once?”

“Are you saying you don’t get caught up in your cartography?” he challenged.

“Look, as someone who used to be forced to work nonstop without food or sleep for days on end, I fucking appreciate it when my nakama makes me take a break.”

Law grunted in reluctant acceptance, leaning his elbows on his knees as he stared out at the vibrant waves that slowly threatened to encroach his spot. “I do appreciate their concern, but they should also respect my authority as captain.”

“They do, Law,” Nami sighed, rubbing her temples, “but respect and blind obedience aren’t the same thing. You’re practically killing yourself working on those plans; are the guys supposed to just sit by and watch? And considering how…personal this all seems to be, they have even more right to be worried and tell you to take a step back.”

“Yes, it is personal—that’s why I can’t leave anything to chance. Atifakuto is known for its museums and art auctions. If I’m to blend in well enough to get my hands on that vase, I need to be well-versed on history and art throughout the four Blues.”

Ah. No wonder he’d been so intent on studying. “I get it; this is important to you, tons of preparation is needed, and a lot relies on you. But planning to the point of sleep deprivation is only going to increase your chances of messing up. You need to sleep, Law.”

“Contrary to what you might think, it’s not my work that’s been keeping me awake. I can’t sleep—insomnia’s a bitch like that. The body may crave it, but the mind has other ideas.”

“You managed to catch a nap earlier,” she argued weakly.

“Oh yes, because a brief doze in the sun makes up for nearly a week of nightmares.”

Brown eyes widened in surprise. Nightmares? Nami wondered. What kind of nightmares could the Surgeon of Death get?

Realizing he’d given her a nugget of personal information he hadn’t intended, Law’s entire expression closed off as he got to his feet. “I’m going for a walk.”

“Law—”

He turned towards the eastern side of the beach, the bold face of his back tattoo smiling mockingly at her as he activated his Room. “I’ll be back by sunset,” were the last words he said before he vanished, replaced by a broken, rusted metal bar.

XXX

Law wasn’t back by sunset, though the crew assured Nami that there was no reason to worry.

“Law loves to go on long, aimless walks,” Bepo said as he handed her some pineapple slices. He’d managed to eat the giant sea bass before the crew caught him, but they’d stumbled upon some ripe fruit in the process, along with a bed of oysters, so Ermine had reluctantly forgiven him. “They help clear his head when he’s got a lot on his mind or his insomnia gets bad. If we can’t get him to sleep, this is the next best thing. At least he’s not working.”

She hummed in reply, still mulling over what kind of nightmares a man like Law could be having. Were they related to Amber Lead, or was it something else? The man was a renowned sadist and didn’t seem to blink when it came to murder or torture, though admittedly the only people she’d seen him actually harm were utter scumbags.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Skua and Malamute, the engineers having at last come out of the ship. Their brows furrowed as they looked around at the small gathering, confused.

“Where is everyone?” Skua asked, taking a plate of steamed oysters.

“Probably still exploring the island,” Ermine said with a shrug.

“It’s not a big island; shouldn’t they be back by now?”

“You know Cousteau; maybe he found some pond full of weird fish or something and is making everyone document their behavior throughout the day.”

Malamute’s brow furrowed. “I’d believe that if it were just him in charge, but you’re forgetting Crozier’s with him. You know, the man who survived a forced march across an island literally made of ice and rocks? That guy doesn’t fuck around; if he says the crew will be back by sunset, they’ll be back by sunset.”

Penguin considered his words, rubbing his chin. “You’ve got a point. They might be in trouble.”

“Or they’re on their way back now,” Shachi said with a shrug, chowing down on some grilled fish Bepo hadn’t gotten to. “There aren’t even any predators on the island, and if anyone got injured, they would have called on Crozier’s mini Den Den Mushi.”

The bushes behind them rustled loudly, and Shachi jerked his head in their direction. “See? That’s probably them now. Or maybe it’s Law, and you can ask him to Scan the island for them.”

Before anyone could reply, a massive boar burst out of the jungle, squealing in fury as it barreled into the camp, knocking over tables, chairs, and umbrellas. Instinctively, Penguin grabbed a burning stick from the fire and waved the hot flame at the beast in hopes of scaring it away. However, its green eyes flashed in clear anger at the threat, and, sharp tusks gleaming in the red glow, it let out another loud squeal before charging at the first mate, showing none of the instinctive fear one would expect for the man’s primitive weapon.

Acting fast, Ikkaku tackled Penguin so the boar just missed them, the soft beach sand cushioning their impact. However, the beast didn’t stop, using its momentum to make a U-turn for another attempt on the group.

It didn’t get far, though, as Jean Bart managed to grab it mid-charge and pick it up as if it were no bigger than a corgi. As the boar squealed angrily, he chucked it up into the air, watching as it flew in a wide arch high above them before landing somewhere in the middle of the jungle.

“Where the fuck did that thing come from?” Ikkaku panted.

“The jungle, obviously,” Jude groused, helping her and Penguin to their feet.

“But boars aren’t native to the island,” Uni pointed out. “Last time we were here, only birds and turtles had managed to make this place their home. So either it washed up on shore in that shipwreck, or someone brought it here.”

Skua knelt down and studied one of the debris in the woodpile. “This looks like it could have been part of a crate. Or a cage.”

Nami remembered the metal bar Law had switched himself with. “My money’s on cages. Maybe that pirate ship was transporting animals.”

“Do you think there are more of them?” Shachi asked as he pulled a pistol out of his beach bag.

Uni peered into the shadowy trees. “Who knows? Maybe something even worse is lurking in the jungle, waiting to pick us off.”

“The last thing we need is you freaking everyone out with your ghost stories!” Ermine snapped, even as he grabbed a large carving knife to use as a machete.

Penguin frowned as the crew armed themselves with the knives and pistols they’d habitually brought along. “Ok, given the fact that we were literally just attacked by a wild animal, I say we should start looking for the others. If nothing else, if a boar was able to survive the shipwreck, then it’s possible something more dangerous did, too. There may even be human survivors.”

“Do we split up or stay together?” Jean Bart asked.

“Hmm, split up into smaller groups, but no one’s to wander the island alone. That way we all have someone watching our backs while still covering the optimal amount of ground. That work for everyone?”

“Aye-aye!” they shouted, pairing up as they headed into the dense foliage, lanterns and weapons in hand.

“I’ll catch up!” Nami called out to them, sprinting towards the small motorboats. There was no way she was going to go wandering around a jungle with so much skin exposed again; she learned her lesson after Little Garden. She also wanted to grab her Clima-Tact; Ikkaku had been modifying it that morning, so it was likely still in their quarters.

To her surprise, instead of following the others, Bepo stayed with her. “None of us should go wandering off alone, right?” he explained nervously. “And somebody should head back to the ship to call Crozier; at the very least, they need to know there’s potentially dangerous wildlife around.”

“Good thinking,” she said, climbing onto the boat and revving the engine. It only took them a few minutes to get to the submarine, but she could tell Bepo was fretting from the way he clicked his claws together. “They’ll be fine,” she assured as she scaled the side ladder onto the bottom deck.

“I hope so. Maybe they ran into Law?”

“If they did, we can kill two birds with one stone.”

Bepo sighed as they stepped into the comparatively cooler interior of the submarine. “I’ll go make the call; meet me on deck in a few minutes?”

“Sure; I shouldn’t take long.” True to her word, Nami dashed to her quarters and quickly pulled on a pair of jeans, boots, and a long-sleeved top. The fabric was stifling against her skin, but it was better than risking another Keschia bite. Her hand hesitated over her Clima-Tact and holster; Ikkaku had told her she’d managed to increase the power of a few things, but they hadn’t been properly tested yet. Should she risk it? Ikkaku was good with machines and gadgets, but she wasn’t Usopp.

Couldn’t turn out any worse than the first time, she decided, recalling her battle with Ms. Doublefinger. If she could secure a dark horse victory with a weapon she’d never even used before, she could certainly manage with a modified one.

Weapon securely strapped to her leg and delicate skin protected from any prehistoric bug bites, Nami determined she was ready. However, as she trotted down the hall, she hesitated in front of Law’s quarters.

Though her trust in Law had grown to the point where she didn’t think he’d be selling Vegapunk’s weapons research, she still wanted to take a look at Harpin’s ledgers. Wanted to finally unravel the mystery as to why Jinbei had set Arlong loose in the East Blue. She’d noticed some of the research had centered around cyborgs; Franky could use that. Then there was the stuff on Kuma and the Pacifistas—if they needed to fight him again, she’d much rather know what they were up against. There was intel on Blackbeard, too; considering how he was the reason Luffy’s brother was dead, she had no doubt her captain would end up fighting him. Any information she could give him could save his life!

She’d considered just asking Law if she could look at them. Surely he’d understand her reasons; be able to appreciate her desire to plan and be prepared. But the time was never right—he was either obsessively planning and thus rather ornery and volatile, or they were in the midst of some crisis and it would slip her mind. Besides that, she still wasn’t sure why he wanted them.

The information in those books is more valuable to me than everything in that mansion combined, he’d sneered during their fight. But what information was that? He’d burned the blackmail and Marine profiles. As far as she knew, he’d kept his word and not sold any of Vegapunk’s weapons research. Hell, he’d been more interested in his fertilizer formula, and that was as a favor to Nami.

If the research and blackmail weren’t what he wanted, why did he got to so much trouble to get those ledgers? What other information could possibly have been worth nearly getting himself and his crew killed?

By process of elimination, that left the book on the shichibukai, and with his control-freak tendencies and his violent reaction the last time they’d discussed it, she wasn’t sure he’d be willing to part with it.

She could borrow it, though. Grab it, hide it, make a copy, then find a way to return it without him noticing.

Unconsciously, her hand slowly raised to the cold steel door handle. This was the first time the ship had been completely empty. Everyone was preoccupied on the island. Surely she could take a few minutes to grab the ledger from Law’s room, right? Just a quick in-and-out. He didn’t need it at the moment—it had nothing to do with his plans. He wouldn’t even miss it.

Cautiously, she tried to open the door. Locked. She could easily pick it with her tools, though. She could pop back into her room, grab them, jimmy the lock, grab the ledger, pop back out…

She was wasting time. Bepo was waiting for her. What would she tell him if he saw her breaking into his captain’s room? Or worse, what if Law suddenly returned? He could teleport back to the ship without her even realizing, and she doubted he’d be happy to see her there, especially when his crew was in potential danger.

If Nami wanted to get that ledger, she’d need a much better plan than some spur-of-the-moment burglary attempt.

Making a mental note to start working on that once the current crisis was over, she sprinted back to the main deck to find a worried and dejected Bepo.

“They didn’t pick up.”

A thousand outlandish scenarios about what could have happened to them popped into Nami’s head, from cannibals to the island actually being a sentient being that had been slowly devouring the crew for sustenance.

God, she missed Usopp. At least when he was around, she had someone to blame when she got worked up like this.

“M-maybe we should stay on the ship. You know, in case they try to call us?” she said nervously, her old scaredy-cat tendencies bubbling to the surface.

“But what if no one finds Law? Even if the others return, we’ll all just have to head back out into the jungle to find him. It’s better to find him first, and you saw him last, right? You have the best idea where he might have gone.”

Slumping, she sighed. He was right, and unfortunately, Crozier and Cousteau’s team had gone West, so it was unlikely the search party had thought to go in Law’s direction. “I guess you’re right.”

By the time they arrived on the shore the rest of the crew was long gone, so Nami and Bepo headed East towards where she’d seen Law wander off.

“Even if there are wild beasts, they wouldn’t stand a chance against Law,” Bepo assured her confidently as they searched, keeping to the outskirts of the jungle. The tide had washed away Law’s footprints, but they were hoping to find some sort of clue or disturbance along to foliage to see if he’d ventured into the jungle. “I’m sure he’s already on his way back; we’ll find him in no time, and then he can use his powers to Scan the island and make sure there’s nothing else dangerous!”

Nami’s mouth twisted in disdain. She was beginning to understand why Law put so much pressure on himself; his powers, plans, and medical abilities were everyone’s go-to solution for any given problem. She wondered if Law’s control-freak tendencies were because of this, or if he’d always been that way and the Hearts had just learned to pick their battles.

Regardless, Bepo had a point this time—if Law used his powers, they’d know the situation with the island and where the crew was in one fell swoop.

Life was never that easy, though. Icy dread crawled down Nami’s back as she caught a flash of yellow near the edge of the jungle. Heart in her throat, she darted towards it, barely restraining a strangled sob when she realized it was the shredded remains of Law’s swim trunks.

Oh my God! Nami could feel sharp tears sting her eyes as she collapsed to her knees, cradling the tattered mesh in her hands. Up close, she could clearly see it had been torn apart by a razor-sharp blade or, more likely, claws and teeth. What could have done this? There’s no way it was a boar! Please don’t tell me he’s—

She jumped as a set of long, sharp claws filled her vision, only to realize it was Bepo reaching for the piece of cloth.

“There’s no blood,” he mumbled, studying it closely.

Hope filled her chest at those simple words. If there was no blood, there was a chance Law was perfectly fine! Probably buck-naked, but that was way better than dead!

Her happy bubble burst when a strange, husky sound reached her ears. Goosebumps rose up along her arms as she realized it was a growl of some kind.

She lifted her head slowly, only to find a pair of wild gold eyes peeking out from the darkness of the jungle. The beast moved closer, and Nami found herself mere feet away from a snarling snow leopard, its white fangs bared menacingly.

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romancemedia · 5 years ago

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NCIS S17E11 - In the Wind

In the 11th episode of the 17th season of NCIS, it’s the mid-season premiere as Gibbs, Ziva and the rest of the team race to find Phineas when he runs away after learning the news of his mother’s death.

This was a Great Mid-Season Premiere that had me on the edge of my seat throughout the whole hour as the team were on a desperate search to find young Phineas. Taking place shortly after the events of the mid-season finale, Phineas had run away after Gibbs told him that his mother (recently revealed as Sahar) was killed. This was both an exciting and intense episode as Gibbs was so scared and worried for the young boy he had gotten so close with as well as feeling so guilty. Although Sahar was a god awful person who put Ziva through hell, she was all Phineas had in the world and with her gone, it left Phineas scared and wondering what was going to happen to him. I gotta say I was really worried about Gibbs and feared this may put a strain on his and Ziva’s relationship. I hate seeing Gibbs and Ziva in conflict with each other. It was bad enough with Ziva upset that Gibbs never searched for her after she "died" and Adam’s death, but Gibbs blaming Ziva after he killed Sahar would have been even worse. I’m just thankful and relieved that their relationship was still in tact.

Regarding Ziva’s other relationships I’m glad she and Jimmy finally got some real time to spend together in this episode. I felt bad for Jimmy during the mid season finale, especially since it probably wasn’t the reunion he expected or wanted. I’m happy because this episode more than made up for it. I have to say Phineas really impressed me and how far he managed to get on his own before he was captured by Victor. Plus I’m really happy because as of this episode we finally got the full story on Sahar’s background, revealing she got pregnant by a prison guard and after her son was taken away, she basically went on a killing spree and even killed Phineas’s dad which leads us to his kidnapper. Phineas was taken by none of other than Victor, the night club owner cause as it turns out there is an award to bring Phineas to his dead father’s brother. This episode was just filled with surprises, including the fact that Phineas was taken away from his loving foster family. Phineas is one tuff kid to have survived so much for one life and for one so young. He definitely has quite one of the most dysfunctional families I think I’ve ever seen.

Speaking of families, I was on the edge of my seat regarding Ziva and her family, awaiting the reunion we have all been hoping for.... the return of Tony and Tali. It was torture having to wait so long and although it’s not quite the reunion we were all hoping for I am still happy nonetheless as those video messages sent by Tali were so ADORABLE!!!! Tali has gotten so bigger and so much more cuter since we last saw her. She is no longer that little toddler we all once knew. It was certainly a pleasant surprise to see an older Tali, but it still would have been wonderful if we actually got to see a real proper reunion between Ziva, Tony and Tali. I won’t lie I was really hoping that the reason why Tony hadn’t answered Ziva’s messages was because he and Tali were already on their way to her and would have surprised her at NCIS HQ. It would have been a beautiful, heartfelt and tearful reunion for sure, but we can’t have it all. Still I am just really happy Ziva is finally getting her happy ending because she of all people deserves it. Plus I loved that sucker punch Ellie gave to that jerk Victor and also... IT’S ABOUT DAMN TIME. I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR ZIVA TO MEET JACK AND REUNITE WITH LEON. SERIOUSLY IT’S ABOUT TIME!!!

In the end all’s well that ends well. Phineas was found and rescued, safe and sound and was reunited with his foster family who were so happy to see him again and I am so RELIEVED his and Gibbs relationship is still in tact. I was really worried for them, but I’m am just so happy that everything’s okay. Ziva’s final proper goodbyes to everyone were touching. Ellie has surpassed Ziva as her successor and Ziva certainly made Nick’s day when she "confirmed" he let her win and again told him to confess his true feelings for Ellie. I will definitely look forward to when that day arrives and the hug from McGee was just wonderful. I also loved that wink she gave to the audience at the credits, truly symbolising the end to her story. Overall, this was a great mid season premiere that gave both Phineas and Ziva a happy ending they both truly deserved with both back into the loving arms of their respective families. It’s been a real pleasure Ziva David and you will be missed.

#NCIS #My Thoughts #My Edits #My Thoughts NCIS #Ziva David #Leroy Jethro Gibbs #Tim McGee #Tony DiNozzo #Tali David DiNozzo #Ellie Bishop #Nick Torres #Jacqueline Sloane #Leon Vance #Jimmy Palmer #Tony x Ziva #Tiva

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vfdbaudelairefile13 · 5 years ago

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Authors notes: There are brief descriptions of violence against a minor and brief discussion of Olaf's sick intentions with Violet. Read with caution. It isn't the main focus of the chapter but it is mentioned here and there. So read with caution.

Also, sorry if this chapter is super long I just kept adding a lot of shit and I honestly like how it turned out.

Notes:

First off I just want to apologize for how long this chapter took. Time has gotten away from me but I can promise that part three will be a day to day posting schedule like part one. Carnivorous Carnival might still have a couple days in between each chapter cause I am in the process of finding a new second job, still dealing with two jobs, and even moving. So updates won't take this long but they won't be day to day. I am hoping for the first chapter of CC to be posted in three days. Maybe even Thursday. I do appreciate the support this fic has gotten and I can't wait to wow y'all with part three.

That being said, we are at the last chapter of Hostile Hospital and I am feeling very emotional about that mere prospect. This just means we are close to the end of part two and near the start of part three. during the time in between parts two and three I will be posting a number of random one shots cause I don't plan to post until I have finished writing Grim Grotto to it's completion because Slippery Slope might be as long as Hostile Hospital has been.

So thank you all again for the support. Hope you enjoy the ending of HH.

-Sue

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Chapter Fifty-Seven:

The One With An Unhinged Madman and a Very Flawed, Daring Escape

Olaf smiled happily down at the film that was now in his hands. The Snicket File? He thought as his smile grew bigger. All he could think about was who he expected to be in this film. He had believed it would’ve been the love of his life, Kit Snicket. He glanced from the film towards Esme. Esme was looking at the young orphan boy with a cold, murderous expression. He stole a glance towards the unconscious girl that laid limp and lifeless on the cutting table. Then he slowly turned his gaze to the young boy and hidden toddler who stood before him. He smiled viciously at them as he secured the film into his pocket.

The villain’s smile widened when Esme had helped him reveal the orphans’ true identity to the crowd. He watched a terrified Klaus slowly begin to panic. The villain reveled in his young adversary’s fear. He glanced around. Bored with his plot. He was curious to know what was on the Snicket file and to tell the truth, he was eager to see Kit’s face again. Olaf glanced at Esme while Klaus and Sunny were too distracted by the audience to notice. Olaf was signaling for Esme to take care of the orphans while he dipped out momentarily to investigate the file. Esme gave a slow nod as she focused on causing the orphans more turmoil. Olaf looked around the stage for a way to escape undetected. But he didn’t have to think for too long because the blind old man who was in charge of the Library of Records had entered the room accusing the children of theft.

Olaf took this golden opportunity to leave the operating theater of Heimlich Hospital as he walked excitedly down the halls towards the Library of Records. All the while, he had taken the film out of his pocket and was staring at it with heavy eyes the entire duration of his walk. As he walked further and further away from the operating theater, he could faintly hear the desperate voice of Klaus Baudelaire asking where he had gone, he smirked with triumph as he rounded a corner finding the door to the library. He stepped inside the Library of Records smiling at the damage that his girlfriend had done when she was in pursuit of those awful orphans. He quickly found the area of the room where the projectors had been placed.

As he began to play the film, his face turned from happy to one of pure confusion. As he stared speechless at a ghost. Olaf was visibly upset. When he was told about the Snicket file, he hadn’t expected to see a Snicket brother on film. He grabbed the film’s case scanning it for a date. Of course, in good VFD fashion, there was no date of production, just the broad name. He slammed the case down in pure annoyance.

His eyes widened as he stared emotionless at Jacques Snicket. “But, before I do, I have an important update,” Jacques explained but Olaf couldn’t help but be merely distracted on who he could see. Olaf knew for a fact that he had murdered Jacques Snicket. He cocked his head to the side as he stared at Jacques, a volatile mix of emotions causing him to groan in annoyance as the volunteer spoke. Olaf had expected to see Kit Snicket, not her pesky, meddlesome twin brother who he had recently slain. He leaned his chin in his hand, feigning a yawn. Trying his best to mask his complete and utter discomfort for this situation. He scoffed aloud as he rolled his eyes, confused as to what he was feeling exactly.

It couldn’t be guilt. I’ve sunk too low to ever feel guilt and have empathy for another soul. He had thought with another quick eye roll. He had half a mind to turn off the film.

What information could Jacques Snicket possibly have that could be useful to me?

But as Olaf reached for the switch to turn it off. Jacques Snicket said it. Jacques said the haunting secret that the three orphans had learned moments before Esme Squalor burst into the library and successfully kidnapped Violet.

The vile man’s demeanor was calm, like the air that filled the Library of Records. But his cold demeanor was also very chilling. Anyone who knew Olaf well would take one look at him and accuse the man who sat in the Library of Records to be an imposter. He chuckled nervously, but in a low whisper as if he were afraid of others hearing him. For a brief moment, Olaf simply stared blankly towards the film. Jacques Snicket spoke on but Olaf paid him no attention. As if Jacques’ initial statement had frozen him in time. Jacques’ secret replayed in Olaf’s head in a continuous loop not allowing him a brief moment of peace. Olaf shook his head violently, but other than that his motions were bare, his demeanor was still calm.

After another few moments like that, Olaf stopped the film, rewound it to the very beginning, and turned it back on. Again, he listened to Jacques’ revelation about the recent fires. This time when he heard Jacques' theory, his heart stopped. A chill was sent over him.

It can’t be. He thought to himself desperately. Quickly succumbing to anxiety and paranoia that was now creeping in on him, he glanced around the empty library. He stood up from his seat to get a better look around. He wasn’t sure why but he could feel his heart beating in his chest as he surveyed the area for his older enemies.

Olaf wouldn’t admit to anyone that he was afraid, even though he was. He knew that if the kids knew that there was a survivor; and he had a strong feeling that the children did, in fact, know what was on the film seeing that Klaus was hesitant to hand it over to Esme, only handing it over because he thought it would be a good bargaining chip for Violet’s life. But if the kids knew there was a survivor and they somehow got to the survivor first, before Olaf could, he knew that that would only mean terrible things for him. Who knows what Beatrice, Bertrand, and Lemony would do to him if they ever found out just what he had done to their children and even some of the vile things he had planned especially when it came to the eldest orphan. His breathing was slowly going back to normal as he shook his head again.

He scoffed as he turned off the film again. He waited for it to rewind as he kept shaking his head defiantly. “What does Jacques Snicket know? Nothing. That’s what.” he tried to convince himself. “He was always a know-it-all with no way to back anything up.” But no matter what he said aloud to himself, nothing was convincing him that he was safe from the parents’ wrath.

He ran one of his hands nervously through his disgusting, grey hair. “No. No. Lemony is dead.” he said shakily. But then he remembered how a struggling violet was desperately crying out for her father when he was using the anesthetic to subdue her. “Remember...you...you killed him. You set his apartment building ablaze!” the vile man began to nervously laugh at this statement. He was hoping for his laugh to come out shrill and villainous, as it usually does, but it came out nervous and unenthusiastic. “Killing him...and whoever else was unfortunate enough to die,”

His eyes widened when he remembered the young teen girl that was strapped to a gurney in the middle of the operating theater. How did she survive? How did she escape the fire? That question now haunted him more than it had when he had first laid eyes on her at Prufrock. When he immediately recognized her as a miniature Beatrice with Lemony’s blue eyes. Olaf remembers when he had set the fire it was in the early hours of the morning or late hours of the evening (depending on how you look at), surely Violet would have been sleeping or inside her home when he started the fire.

So if an untrained fourteen-year-old girl could escape the fire I set….who’s to say, Lemony Snicket, a man who has had a lifetime of training in a cult, couldn’t escape as well? He thought to himself. He rubbed the side of his face anxiously.

“Get a grip, Olaf.” He told himself as he stopped the film. “She only escaped because that brat is lucky,” he smirked as he remembers her lifeless, limp body laying on a gurney in the operating theater. “And her luck is soon going to run out.”

He took a small breath. “Besides, there’s no way he survived...he would’ve shown his face by now.” The vile man reasoned, but to be honest, he wasn’t too sure. Olaf did not think it made sense for Lemony to risk his life for two children that weren't biologically his but not even try to rescue his own child. He also highly doubted Bertrand and Beatrice wouldn’t have shown their faces in an effort to save their kids. He began to nervously laugh as he shook his head. “Maybe...I misheard Jacques. He always played that stupid hearing game with Lemony…” Olaf stated, still trying to find some logical way to debunk what he heard Jacques Snicket say.

As he rewound the film once more, Olaf took a deep breath and played it again. Olaf’s eyes fixated on Jacques as he listened attentively as Jacques explained that Lemony was either dead or on the lam. Olaf’s eyes widened as he shook his head defiantly. “No. Lemony Snicket is dead,” he told himself. He hoped that if he said it out loud enough times then it would stay true. He desperately wanted that statement to stay true. He wanted Lemony Snicket to be dead.

Olaf glared slightly at the vision of Jacques Snicket. Grimacing, groaning, and growling as the ‘noble’ man spoke. It was like Jacques Snicket had come back from the dead to deliver Olaf some bad news. Jacques was always the bearer of bad news when Olaf was still working alongside the Snickets. He grabbed the file’s case once more and threw it to the ground when he couldn’t find a date. Even with the film’s metallic case cling ing on the ground as it bounced from being thrown, Olaf could still hear every word Jacques was saying loud and clear.

“It seems there may have been a survivor of a recent fire,” Jacques said again. Olaf grumbled as he kicked the air in front of his feet. Even while sitting he managed to stomp both feet as if he were a child throwing a temper tantrum and not simply a very highly unstable grown man going through his seventh midlife crisis in the last several months. As his hand ran through his hair again, he took a firm grip, slightly pulling in anger and desperation.

“Of course…” he cried, mockingly. “Of fucking course!”

His breathing became sharp and quick but not from fear as it had only a few minutes ago. Now his breathing was irregular because of his anger. He felt a tear or two form in his eyes as he thought about how the people who have wronged him could still be alive.

“No,” he cried out. His voice was somewhat desperate but mainly defeated. “No! This isn’t fair!” He screeched as he rewound the film again, not caring to turn it off. The film rewound although this rewind had slightly distorted the video. But Olaf didn’t pay it any attention. “ Nothing ever goes my way!” He barked, his voice still dripped desperation even if he was trying his best to mask it. He thought of each and every scheme that had failed since his pursuit of Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire, this revelation caused him to growl. It was bad enough that the kids were surviving him but now their hypocritical parents?

“I can’t believe it,” Olaf whined. “ This changes everything!” The vicious man grabbed at his hair again, pulling at it aggressively as he growled inhumanely. His mind flashed to the unconscious girl on the cutting table, the bespectacled boy who was desperately trying to rescue her, and the simpering infant with the sharp teeth.

“ They’re supposed to be orphans!” He growled, shaking with each word.

As he yelled that last sentence, he shut his mouth abruptly. His expressionless face slowly growing into a Grinch-like grin as his eyes shone with an idea. He began to laugh lightly as if he had just remembered a joke that Esme or one of his troupe members had told him.

Olaf’s world was currently spiraling as his happiness about getting his revenge against Lemony Snicket may not have actually happened or that his second-hand revenge against Bertrand Markson and Beatrice Baudelaire didn’t occur either and this revelation sent him in a frenzy. The mere idea of a survivor had his entire soul heated up.

His face grew dark as he thought, once more, about their three plucky children. A cruel, vicious smile appeared on the man’s face. “ It would be fun to deal with the survivor and their precious children.” He said aloud, his light laughter turned into full-grown villainous howling as his dark mind began to imagine cruel scenarios for the survivor and their children. A cruel smile appeared on his face as he began to fantasize about how he would ‘take care’ of these orphans in front of their parents.

He thought first about little Sunny, and how he would rip the infant limb from limb, listening to her screams and cries of agony and her parents and siblings horrified pleads. He then thought about Klaus and how he would cut the bookworm in such a way where the young boy slowly bled out agonizingly slow, somehow surviving through to the very end of Olaf’s madness, only to be killed the last second when Olaf finally decides to put him out of his misery with a quick slit of his throat. The sick man reveled in the screams that the survivor and Klaus would be making. He already knew how fun it was to carve up the middle orphan as if he were a pumpkin in October and he was very eager to do it some more. But then finally, he thought about Violet, the girl who laid unconscious and restrained on the cutting table. A sick smile laced with the cruelest of intentions appeared on his face as he began to imagine all of the dark and twisted things he had planned for little Miss Snicket. The mere prospect of even having an audience to be forced to watch as he breaks their little girl in the cruelest way imaginable made Olaf smile wickedly.

He could finally cause the survivor more pain than they had caused him and he would use their own children to do so. Maybe he can twist the cruel reality of a survivor of a recent fire in his favor. It would only take postponing murdering the brats until he found out who was the survivor and then brutally torturing their children to death in front of them. Olaf shrugged his shoulders. It wasn’t what he had initially planned but this gave him more time to torment the children and that always made him feel a little happier.

Finally, Olaf stood turning to leave. He felt as though he had been away from the operating theater for too long and he was beginning to worry that the others couldn’t handle the Baudelaires and an unconscious Snicket girl. He would be so fucking pissed if Esme and the others lost his little pet. But as he turned his back to Jacques Snicket for the last time, film Jacques said it once more. “There may be a survivor of a recent fire.”

Olaf took one deep breath as he stood motionless for a second. Jacques’ words hitting Olaf slowly as if Jacques were standing right in front of him, stabbing him cruelly. “I know!” Olaf hissed, his hands slowly tightening to white-knuckled fists. He let out a vicious growl that caused his whole body to shake aggressively.

Olaf turned towards the projector rapidly as he shoved the projector that played the film down onto the table. In a fit of blind rage, Olaf gripped the projector and began to beat it repeatedly against the table. “ Baudelaire!” he hissed as he continued to beat the projector against the table. “ Markson!” He growled again as he turned towards the chair that he had sat in and kicked it with all his might. As the psychotic man hissed, “ Snicket!” the chair flew across the room only stopping when it collided with one of the filing cabinets that had survived Esme’s rampage. He turned back towards the projector continuing to slam it against the table, eventually shoving it down and then pounding on the table with his fists. “ NOOOOOOO!” He bellowed in the empty library. His voice echoing and bouncing off the walls

He gripped onto the projector one last time and rapidly smacked it against the table once more and carefully watched with curiosity when a small flame had illuminated. Olaf instinctively tried to swat it out but then as his eyes shone bright with an idea, his face went dark with no emotion besides cold ruthlessness.

He slowly bent down towards the flame, his face darkening as his sick thoughts danced around his head laced with cruel intentions. He softly blew at the flame, nurturing it, allowing it to grow into a full-fledged fire. As he gazed at the intoxicating orange flames, reveling in the intense high he was feeling, he merely shrugged his shoulders.

What’s one more fire?

________________________________________________________________

Klaus gazed up at the crowd nervously as he and Sunny jumped when they heard a familiar laugh, far above them. The two younger orphans glanced at one another nervously and then focused their gazes towards the intercom speaker that was above them. The siblings had heard this laughter when Olaf had first captured the Quagmire triplets and Sunny, and when Esme had successfully pushed Klaus and Violet down the elevator shaft at 667 Dark Avenue, and when he had trapped the two older siblings in a locked Deluxe Cell or trapped Sunny and the Quagmires in a small cage at the bottom of an elevator shaft, a statue of a red herring, and a fountain. It was the triumphant laughter of someone who has cooked up a fiendish plot and succeeded, although it always sounded like the laughter of someone who has just told an excellent joke. Because he was laughing over the scratchy intercom, Olaf sounded as if he had a piece of aluminum foil over his mouth, but the laughter was still loud enough to help wear off the anesthesia only slightly, and Violet murmured something and tried to move her restrained arms.

“Oops,” Olaf said, interrupting his laughter when he noticed the intercom was on. “Attention!” Olaf cried as Klaus cried out a desperate ‘no’ in response. “This is Doctor Mattathias Medical-School with some very important news. A terrible fire has broken out in Heimlich Hospital.”

The crowd around the children gasped as they all stood up from their seats. Even the troupe and Esme glanced at one another nervously. “The fire was set in the Library of Records by that Baudelaire murderer and his baby accomplice!”

“ Toddler!” Sunny corrected as the crowd began to glare at her and her brother.

“Sunny, not the time,” Klaus whispered as he continued to gaze up at the intercom, silently pleading for Olaf to stop his treachery. He shook his head as Olaf spoke and continued to mouth the word ‘no’.

“The fire has spread through a number of wards. The orphans are still at large, so do everything you can to find them, arrest them, and bring them to me. ” he hissed into the intercom.

“No,” Sunny whimpered as the crowd around the children glared intensely.

“Oh, and you might want to evacuate the building...or move the patients...or something,” Olaf said nonchalantly. “Thank you. That is all.”

Their enemy’s voice disappeared in a matter of seconds. Klaus looked around desperately. “We...we...we couldn’t have started the fire! We’ve been in this operating theater the whole time!” he reasoned.

“Get them!” One nurse cried. “Somebody tell Mattathias we’ve captured the children!” she turned to Klaus and Sunny. “You three brats are in big trouble. You’re murderers, arsonists, kidnappers, and now spurious doctors.”

“Don’t forget thieves!” Hal cried, holding up the fake key ring.

“They get that from their mother!” Esme cried angrily, glaring daggers at Klaus.

“That’s…” Klaus began but then he looked towards his sisters. “Not...not all of that is true...I only disguised myself...to save…” But as he looked around, he feared that no one was believing him. He looked at the spurious keyring in Hals’ hands that he and his sisters had used to sneak into the Library of Records. He looked at his ripped medical coat, which he had used to disguise himself as a doctor and he looked at the rusty blade in his own hands, which he had just been holding over his unconscious older sister. Klaus remembered when he and Sunny lived with Uncle Monty, and the two siblings, with some help from a disguised Lemony Snicket, brought several objects to Mr. Poe as evidence to Olaf’s treacherous plot. Because of the small objects, Olaf was placed under arrest, and now Klaus was afraid that the same would happen to him and his sisters.

“Surround them!” The Hook-Handed Man cried, pointing at the children with a curved glove. “But be careful. The bookworm still has the knife!”

Olaf’s associates spread out in a circle and slowly began walking towards the youngsters at all angles. Sunny whimpered in fright and ran behind Klaus’ legs as Klaus was trying to guard both his sisters. Klaus quickly picked Sunny up and put her on the gurney.

“Capture those orphans!” a doctor cried.

The two white-faced women smiled wickedly at Klaus and Sunny. “We’ll perform surgery on all three of you!” one of the women shouted causing Esme to facepalm.

Hal looked to them in disbelief. “What?” he asked. “No, the children will go to prison, of course.”

“Well, technically they’ll be in juvenile detention until they come of age,” the henchperson of indeterminate gender explained.

“Ridiculous!” the bald man cried. “They should be tried as adults.”

“Murderers should get the chair,” one white-faced woman argued.

“We’re talking about children,” Hal complained.

“Very small chairs, then,” the other white-faced woman commented as the troupe took another step towards the children.

“We can discuss the details after we arrest them,” a volunteer fighting disease cried.

“Yeah! Stop arguing and arrest them!” another cried.

“That’s what we’re doing, you fool!” Esme cried impatiently, but when she turned her head towards the two Baudelaire orphans and the drowsy Snicket girl they saw her wink. “We’re going to capture only one of you,” she said, in a quiet voice so the audience couldn’t hear her. She had her eyes focused on Klaus, who backed into Violet’s gurney causing the Snicket girl to shriek slightly.

Sunny turned towards Violet. “Shhhh, it’s okay,” she whimpered to the drowsy Violet as she pets her hair softly.

Esme smiled as she glanced down at her stiletto shoes. “This in footwear isn’t just useful for making me look glamorous and feminine,” she explained as she took one of her heels off and pointed it right at the children. “These stilettos are perfect for slitting children’s throats.” she hissed under her breath, taking a small step closer to Klaus, who adjusted the large, rusty knife in his hands. “The two bratty girl orphans will be killed while trying to escape from justice, leaving the one bratty, little Baudelaire boy to give us the fortune.”

“You’ll never get your hands on our inheritance,” Klaus cried. “Or your shoes at my sisters’ throats.”

Esme merely shrugged. “We’ll see,” she cried, as she swung her shoe at Klaus as if it were a sword. Klaus ducked quickly and felt the whoosh! Of the air as the blade swept over him. He glanced at Esme confused. She had just explained her intention to kill his sisters not him, so why was she swinging her shoes at him. It didn’t take Klaus long to realize what Esme was doing as he jumped back up onto his feet in hopes of protecting Violet and Sunny.

“ She’s trying to kill us!” Klaus cried desperately. “Can’t you see? These are the real murderers!”

“No one will ever believe you,” Esme said in a sinister whisper and swung her shoe at Sunny, who moved away just in time.

“I don’t believe you!” Hal cried. “My eyesight may not be what it used to be, but I could see that phony medical coat on the ground.”

“I don’t believe you either!” a nurse cried. “I can see that rusty knife!”

Esme swung her shoe towards the drowsy Violet this time, Klaus maneuvering Violet’s gurney out of the way in the nick of time. “Why don’t you surrender?” Esme hissed. “We’ve finally trapped you, just as you trapped Olaf all those other times.”

“When did we ever…” Klaus cried as he jumped back away from Esme’s attack.

“Now you know what it feels like to be a villain!” the bald man yelled. “Move closer, everyone! Mattathias told me whoever grabs them first gets to choose where to go for dinner tonight!”

Klaus looked at the group of villains in disbelief. He scanned towards the crowd looking for any friendly or helpful face. He frowned when he realized that no one was going to help them or stick up for the children. Esme could literally slit one of their throats and no one in this half-emptied crowd would bat an eyelash.

“Is that so?” the Hook-Handed Man asked. “Well I’m in the mood for pizza.” he swung a rubber-gloved hook at Klaus, who fell back against the gurney, rolling himself and his sister out of the evil man’s reach even if it was only a few inches.

“I feel more like Chinese food,” one of the white-faced women said. “Let’s go to that place where we celebrated the Quagmire and Baudelaire kidnapping.”

“I want to go to Cafe Salmonella,” Esme snarled.

Klaus pushed against the gurney again, wheeling it in the other direction as the circle of associates closed in on him and his sisters. He held the rusty knife up for protection as he listened to the whimpering of his younger sister and watched the restrained struggles of his elder sister. Klaus did not think he could use a weapon, even on people as wicked as these. Even if that dark thought had crossed his mind more than ten times in the last five minutes. He frowned when he realized that he was thinking just like Count Olaf. He shook his head slightly, he refused to be anything like Olaf. He knew if Count Olaf would have been trapped, he would not have hesitated to swing the rusty blade at the people who were surrounding him, but despite what the bald man had said, Klaus did not feel like a villain or rather, he didn’t want to feel like a villain. He didn’t want to feel a thing like Olaf. He refused to be the thing he hated the most. What Klaus did feel like though, was someone who needed to escape.

“Klaus...what do we do?” Sunny asked in a terrified whisper as the troupe and Esme took another step towards the kids.

“I...I don’t know, Sunny…” he admitted as he backed into his sister’s gurney again, he glanced down at Violet and then at Sunny, giving his younger sister a small smile, because he knew just how the three siblings were going to escape. “But a great mind once told me... there’s always something, ” he said as he smiled down at the drowsy Violet, who merely looked up at him with a face full of fear, disorientation, and confusion.

“Get back!” Klaus cried as he focused on the villains. “This knife is very sharp!”

“You can’t kill all of us,” the Hook-Handed Man replied. “In fact, I doubt you have the courage to kill anyone.”

“It doesn’t take courage to kill someone,” Klaus replied. “It takes a severe lack of moral stamina.”

“That is a wonderful way to describe your parents,” Esme commented, smirking.

“Wait...what…?”

“But I’m afraid, your fancy words won’t save you now, you twerp.” Esme snarled mockingly.

“That’s true,” Klaus admitted. “What will save me now is a bed on wheels used to transport hospital patients,”

Without another word, Klaus tossed the rusty knife to the floor, startling Olaf’s associates into stepping back. Esme even dropped her stiletto shoe in shock. The circle of people with a severe lack of moral stamina was spread out a little more, just for a moment, but a moment was all the Baudelaires needed. Klaus gripped Violet’s gurney tightly and began to roll his sisters off the stage. Before he had a chance to jump on the gurney himself, he felt something sharp prying at his skin.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Esme hissed as she gripped Klaus’ arm tightly. Digging her stiletto nails into his skin as roughly as he could. The young boy cried out as the vile woman smirked. Klaus desperately tried to push the gurney that held his sisters away but Esme kept him in place.

“Please…” Klaus pleaded, forgetting that Esme was like Olaf and she had absolutely no humanity left within her.

“ Please…” Esme mocked, beginning to chuckle. “ You three aren’t going anywhere!” she hissed into Klaus’ ear as he continued to struggle to get the vile woman to let him go. Olaf’s troupe just stood stupidly around unsure of what to do. While more of the crowd had decided that exiting a burning hospital was a better idea then capturing three falsely-accused orphans. Although some of the crowd did stay to help capture the kids. “Olaf and I have plans for each of you…” Esme snarled as she glanced towards a terrified Sunny who sat at the foot of Violet’s gurney. “Ain’t that right, babylaire?”

Sunny looked to the confused and struggling Violet to the terrified and struggling Klaus and then at the smirking bitch who held them in place. Sunny grimaced and shook her head, a faint attempt to get Olaf’s and Esme’s voices out of her head as she began to remember the cruel, vicious details of the villain’s plot to murder her and her siblings. Sunny began to shake where she sat as Esme gripped Klaus’ arm tighter. Klaus grimaced and groaned in pain as he glanced towards Sunny with pleading eyes. Sunny felt a knot in her stomach, knowing the last time that she had used her teeth to help someone it had ended badly for her. She remembered the muzzle, the beating, the drugging. Even the time she bit Olaf to get him to release Klaus which resulted in her own kidnapping. Fear was paralyzing her to her core. But then Sunny remembered what Olaf told her about what he had done to Klaus and she took another look at Violet, who was bruised and tied, and those factors alone shattered Sunny’s fear and replaced it with pure hatred.

“ Let’s go, brats. Maybe if you’re lucky, we’ll wait until the girl wakes up to dispose of the brats we don’t need,” Esme hissed in Klaus’ ear, loud enough for Sunny to hear. Sunny glared at the woman before shakily standing up on the gurney and running towards the vile woman with each wobbly step, she caused the gurney that held her and her older sister to shake.

Violet shook her head from side to side, faster than before but still, her movements were halted by the anesthetic. “The...earth’s...ending!” Violet shouted.

Sunny reached her destination as she bit Esme’s wrist as hard as she could causing the woman to let go of her brother and scream in pain.

“ You vile beast!” Esme hissed. “ The baby bit me!”

Sunny quickly sat down as Esme gripped her own arm. Klaus took this opportunity to turn towards the villainess, giving her a rough shove which caused her to plummet to the ground, effectively breaking the stiletto shoes that she was still wearing. Esme crashed into the ground with a growl as she reached for Klaus’ pant leg. But it was too late, she gripped onto the air because the children were already running out of the operating theater.

A cry rose from the remaining audience as the Baudelaires sped past Olaf’s associates. Esme screamed a high pitched shriek causing several people to cringe and cover their ears. “ AFTER THEM YOU IMBECILES!” she screeched to the troupe who then realized what had just happened and began running after the children in hot pursuit.

“They won't get away from me!” Hal cried as he gripped the side of Violet’s gurney.

“Hal... please.” Klaus whimpered as the gurney slowed to a halt.

“You destroyed my library!” Hal cried defensively.

Both Klaus and Sunny glanced behind them and then Sunny glanced back at the old man. Butterflies fluttered in the youngest Baudelaire’s stomach as Hal glared at her from behind his tiny glasses. Unlike Olaf’s associates, Hal was not an evil person, well as far as they know. My research says otherwise. He merely was someone who loved the Library of Records and was trying to capture the people he believed had set it on fire, and it pained Sunny to see that he thought she was an evil criminal, instead of an unlucky toddler. But she knew she did not have time to explain to Hal what had really happened. She scarcely had time to say a single word, and yet that is precisely what the youngest Baudelaire orphan did.

“Sorry,” Sunny said to Hal and gave him a big smile. Then she opened her mouth a little wider and bit Hal’s hand as gently as she could so that he would let go of the gurney without getting hurt. Which is the exact opposite thing she did to Esme.

“Ow!” Hal whined. “The baby bit me!”

“ Join the club!” Esme screamed as she began to stand up. Klaus rolled his sisters out of the door, he stopped pushing as Violet shook her head left and right trying to move the hair out of her eyes. Sunny looked at her brother with confusion but then understood what he was doing when he grabbed a mop and successfully barricaded the door to the operating theater. Klaus gripped onto his sister’s gurney once more as Olaf’s troupe reached the door and were trying to use their combined weight and strength to break Klaus’ barricade. Klaus didn’t stick around long enough to find out just how handy this idea was because he began racing down the hallway.

“Oh no no no,” Klaus cried as he took a quick glance behind him. He tried to run faster than before, he glanced down at Violet who was shaking her head still. She squinted up at him, her face was unreadable. Klaus could see that his sister’s eyes weren’t focusing. Sunny leaned closer to Violet to brush her sister’s hair from her face gently.

Klaus was running fast enough to when he reached the first corner, he skids around it rapidly, nearly losing his footing. He glanced towards the direction that he had just come from and he could see Olaf’s troupe running and chasing him.

“Don’t let them get away!” The hook-handed man yelled. “Tackle them!”

“This is like PE class all over again!” The Henchperson of Indeterminate Gender whined.

“Tell me about it!” Klaus called back to them, remembering Olaf’s cruel scheme back at Prufrock.

“Stop! Murderers!” a doctor behind the troupe called out.

“Weeeeeeeeeee,” Violet cried as she jerked her wrists up trying to clap in excitement. Violet’s wrists made a harsh, loud impact as her restraints caught her limp arms. Her eyes rounder her sockets as she looked at Klaus confused. “Where….what….am I….?” she asked, her voice ringing of utter confusion.

Klaus and Sunny glanced at one another worriedly. “Sunny, start biting through her restraints,”

Sunny merely nodded as she began to chew through the leather belt that was around her sister’s wrists and ankles.

“Attention!” announced Olaf’s voice.

“ Oh, would you just shut the fuck up! ” Klaus yelled towards the intercom as loudly as he could, utterly frustrated with Olaf’s bullshit.

“This is Mattathias, the Head of Human Resources! The murderous arsonist orphans are escaping on a gurney! Capture them at once! Also, the fire is spreading throughout the hospital! You might want to evacuate!”

“Hurry!” Sunny cried. As Sunny broke through one of Violet’s restraints, the two Baudelaires watched happily as Violet slowly lifted up her wrist, but their happiness soon turned into horror when they realized she was unable to hold it up for too long and the two younger siblings watched as their older sister’s wrist fell limp on the side of the gurney, dangling lifelessly.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” Klaus cried, trying to increase his speed. Klaus steered the gurney and ran as fast as his legs could carry him while Sunny held on for dear life as she worked on freeing her older sister. “ Violet, wake up, please! ” he cried, his voice thick with tears of desperation. “ I can’t do this…”

“I’m...try...ing….” Violet muttered, squinting around her. The anesthesia made everything seem faint and foggy, and it was almost impossible for her to speak, let alone move.

“ Try harder, please.” Klaus pleased. “You can help push.”

Sunny just glanced at him with bewilderment. “She can’t push,” Sunny told her brother, Klaus merely rolled his eyes and ignored Sunny.

“Violet…” Klaus called out as he continued to push the gurney. Violet’s eyes flickered open and closed. “The hospital’s on fire…and I don’t know what to do!” he cried in a panicky voice.

Violet only smiled a goofy smile up at him. “Y-you...came...back...for...for me?” her own voice was drowsy from the anesthetic but she was choking on her own tears.

Klaus and Sunny looked at one another and then at her. “Why wouldn’t we?” Klaus asked.

“Sister!” Sunny yelled.

Violet, still a bit woozy from the anesthetic, slowly glanced around as Sunny freed her other wrist, she put her gentle, limp hand on Sunny’s head, smiling at her. Tears falling from her eyes. “...you...you both...came back,” she said happily, her demeanor immediately changing to sadness. “B-b-but...but...O-Olaf...s-s-said you...left…” she cried, trying to use her limp hand to wipe away her tears, but every attempt was slow and never truly wiped away the entire tear. Sunny smiled at her big sister and leaned closer to wipe Violet’s tears from her eyes.

“Fuck what Olaf said!” Klaus shouted. “We would never leave you!” Klaus felt a little insulted that Violet would believe Olaf when he had told this blatant lie but he also could fault Violet, who knew what she had been through and for how long she had been drugged. Maybe she is only believing what Olaf had said because she was high on the knockout drugs. Klaus was cautiously running through the burning hospital, still panicked beyond belief. He understood why Violet was a bit distracted but he would much rather have this discussion when he and both of his sisters were out of danger.

Sunny smiled down at her sister. “Ohana.” the toddler stated and Klaus knew that this needed no translation even to a very disoriented Violet. Violet smiled at her baby sister as Sunny pulled Violet’s locket from around her neck. “We love you, too,” Sunny said, as she put the locket around Violet’s neck gently.

The troupe was hot on their tails as the children passed another group of confused nurses and doctors. “Those must be those murderers Mattathias was talking about!” one cried. “Let’s help those other doctors capture them!”

Klaus steered the gurney around a corner, as several more hospital staff joined the chase. “Violet...we’re in trouble…”

“I...get...that…”

“Wake up,” Klaus begged Violet, who was looking around her in a confused way. “ Please, Violet!”

“Door!” Sunny shrieked as Violet limply grabbed Sunny in hopes of shielding her of any danger as Klaus pushed the gurney through the doors. Once the children were through the doors, Klaus was about to go down a specific hallway until the children caught a glimpse of bright orange flames.

“...what’s...that…?” Violet asked confused, gazing towards the bright orange flames until she couldn’t see them anymore. Sunny took this time to carefully crawl down to Violet’s ankles where she could see her sister had also been restrained. Sunny quickly began chewing through a third of Violet’s restraints until she heard a snap! Of the leather fabric. Sunny smiled as she crawled to the other side and began working on the final restraint.

“I told you there’s a fire and I need your help to escape,” Klaus pleaded.

“F...fire?” Violet repeated. “...where?”

“Here. In the hospital,”

“W-why...are...are we...in...a hos...pital?”

“That’s a rather long and depressing story,” Klaus said. “It’s also not important…” Klaus smiled at Sunny when he saw her sit up and give him two thumbs up, her way of indicating that Violet was no longer restrained.

“Get back here you brats!” the bald man yelled.

Klaus continued to push the gurney that carried his sisters as he watched frantic hospital staff run right past him, more concerned about finding safety than capturing the children. Klaus pushed every empty gurney he passed behind him in hopes of slowing down the angry mob.

“Stairs!” Sunny yelled, pointing to a staircase. Klaus turned the gurney in the direction his sister indicated. Sunny’s eyes widened with fear once she realized what her brother might be doing. She quickly crawled back closer to Violet and him, preferring to be on that side of the gurney if she was right about what Klaus was planning.

“Sunny, hold on,” Klaus cried as he jumped on to the back of the gurney holding on for dear life as Sunny took the opportunity of grabbing onto both Klaus and Violet, her way of attempting to keep them from falling off. The children began to roll down the stairs, bouncing up and down with each step. It was a fast, slippery ride that reminded Klaus of playgrounds that he would visit with his parents when he was younger. At a curve in the staircase, Klaus scraped his shoes against the floor to stop the gurney, and then leaned over to look at one of the hospitals’ confusing maps.

“I’m trying to figure out if we should go through that door,” he said, pointing at a door marked ‘Ward for People with Nasty Rashes’. “Or continue down the staircase.”

“We can’t go down,” Sunny cried as she pointed a finger downward. Klaus looked and even Violet managed to focus enough to look down where Sunny was pointing. Down the staircase, just past the next landing, was a flickering, orange glow, as if the sun was rising out of the hospital basement, and a few wisps of dark black smoke were curling up the staircase like the tentacles of some ghostly animal. It was an eerie sight that had haunted the two younger Baudelaires in their dreams, ever since that fateful day at the beach when all their trouble began and had only haunted Violet since she had been sent to Prufrock. For a moment, the three children were unable to do anything but stare down at the orange glow and the tentacles of smoke, and think about all they had lost because of what they were looking at.

“Fire,” Violet cried faintly.

“Yes,” Klaus sighed. “It’s spreading up this staircase. We’ve got to turn and go back upstairs.”

From upstairs, the orphans listened to Olaf’s troupe members arguing.

“No up,” Sunny said.

“I can see that,” Klaus replied. He gave a low growl as he turned his sisters’ gurney towards the door marked ‘Ward for People with Nasty Rashes’, having made this rash decision, Klaus turned the gurney and wheeled it through the door, just as his favorite person began speaking over the intercom.

“Fuck you!” Sunny screamed at the intercom.

“This is Mattathias!” he said hurriedly. “All associates of mine, continue to search for those children! Everyone else, gather in front of the hospital! Either we will catch those murderous orphans as they escape, or like their pesky parents ... they’ll be burned to a crisp! ” The children shuddered as they all listened to the unhinged madman laugh into the intercom microphone once more. Laughing as though he was a Disney villain who had just momentarily won against the protagonist.

Klaus and Sunny looked at each other worriedly when they watched Violet shudder. She slowly wrapped her arms around herself. “I-I...I don’t….l-like...fires,” she admitted softly, not looking either sibling in the eye. “...I...lost...m-my....dad...in a….f-f-fire,”

Klaus frowned as Sunny merely nodded. “We know. We did, too, sis.” Klaus cried.

“Have each other,” Sunny explained.

The children’s eyes got wide when they heard Olaf’s troupe members once again approaching. Klaus rolled his sisters’ gurney into the Ward for People with Nasty Rashes and saw that Mattathias was right. The gurney was racing down a hallway, and the children could see another orange glow at the far end of it.

“...no…” Violet whimpered. The children heard another brief argument behind them as Olaf’s associates lumbered down the stairs. The three siblings were trapped in the middle of a hallway that led only to a fiery death or Olaf’s clutches.

Klaus started breathing heavily as he was trying to weigh his options in his head. While Violet wrapped her limp arms around Sunny. Klaus leaned down and stopped the gurney. “We’d better hide,” he said, jumping to the floor. “It’s too dangerous to be rolling around like this.”

“Where?” Sunny asked desperately, as Klaus helped Violet sit up on the gurney. Klaus quickly took Sunny from Violet’s arm and set her on the ground.

“Someplace close by,” Klaus said, grabbing Violet’s arm. “The anesthesia is still wearing off, so Violet can’t walk too far.”

“I’ll...try…” Violet murmured, stepping unsteadily off the gurney and leaning onto Klaus. Sunny glanced around nervously for a hiding place. Her eyes quickly caught a door that read ‘Supply Closet’ and even if Sunny Baudelaire wasn’t the best reader, she still pointed her small finger towards the door.

“Over there!” Sunny cried as she raced towards the supply closet and opening it up.

“I guess so,” Klaus said doubtfully as he leaned Violet up against the wall. Violet began sliding down the moment that she was left to stand on her own. Klaus quickly turned towards the now empty gurney that Olaf had used to restrain his older sister. He gripped the gurney and waited until he saw the angry mob running towards him. He pushed the gurney with all his might towards the crowd that was trying to help Olaf capture the children. The gurney hit Brandon with enough force that it caused him to fall to the ground, wincing at the pain that had been afflicted on him.

Klaus hurried back to his older sister, who was practically napping on the floor. “Come on, Vi. This way. This way.” He dragged the limp Violet towards the supply closet as he gripped the doorknob with one hand while balancing his sister with the other. “I don’t know what we can do in a supply closet, but at least it’ll hide us for a few moments.”

Klaus helped his older sister through the door, immediately slamming the door behind him and locking it. Except for a small window in the corner, the closet looked identical to the one where Klaus and Sunny had hidden to decipher the anagram in the patient list. It was a small room, with only one flickering lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, and there were rows of white medical coats hanging from hooks, a rusty sink, huge cans of alphabet soup, cases of surgical tubing, and small boxes of rubber bands, and a small chair. But as the two younger Baudelaires looked at these supplies, they did not look like devices for translating anagrams or impersonating medical professionals. Klaus and Sunny looked at all these objects, and then at their older sister. To their relief, Violet’s face was a bit less pale, and her eyes were a bit less confused, which was a very good sign. The eldest of the three orphans needed to be as awake as she could be, because the items in the closet were looking less and less like supplies and more and more like materials for an invention.

You see, when Violet Snicket was five years old, she won her first invention contest with an automatic rolling pin she’d fashioned out of a broken window shade and six pairs of roller skates. As the judges placed the gold medal around her neck, she could remember her father saying, “I bet you could invent something with both hands tied behind your back.” and the judges agreed while Violet smiled proudly. She knew, of course, that her father and the judges did not mean that they were going to tie her hands behind her back and watch as she tried to invent something, but merely that she was so skilled at inventing that she could probably build something even with substantial interference, a phrase which here means ‘something getting in her way’.

The young Snicket girl had proved the judges and her father right dozens of times, of course, inventing everything from a lockpick to inventing a way to get herself and her younger brother out of jail back in the Village of Fowl Devotees with the substantial interference of being in a hurry and not having the right tools. But violet thought she had never had as much substantial interference as the lingering effects of anesthesia as she squinted at the objects in the supply closet and tried to focus on what her siblings were saying.

“Violet,” Klaus cried worriedly, watching Violet shakily push her hair behind her ear. Klaus couldn’t tell if she was shaking from anxiety and fear or if she was cold seeing that she was now barefoot and all she wore was a hospital gown. “I know that the anesthesia hasn’t completely worn off, but we need you to try to invent something...I can’t...last time I...I invented...something...he…he...” Klaus said as he closed his eyes slowly beginning to shake, placing his arms across his chest.

“Shhhh…” Violet cooed for longer than she wanted because her brain felt like mush and she forgot what she was focusing on. “...I...know,” she said faintly, rubbing her eyes with her hands slowly in a desperate attempt to focus her eyes.

“We’ll...we will...help you all we can,” Klaus said as he slowly began to calm down.

“My teeth are at…” Sunny chimed in, showing off her sharp teeth. “At your service.”

“Just tell us what we need to do,” Klaus cried.

“T-tell me….again...wha...what’s hap...pen...ning?” Violet asked, her head spinning as she slowly slid down the wall she was leaning on. Klaus ran to Violet’s aide hurriedly standing her up and sitting her down in the chair that Sunny had pushed towards her older siblings.

“The fire is consuming this entire hospital, and we have to get out of here quickly!,” he cried desperately as the henchperson of Indeterminate Gender, Brandon, and a few others from the angry mob began to knock on the door. “Oh and not only is Olaf after us, but another angry mob who thinks we’re criminals are right outside this door.”

Klaus ran towards the door to push his back against it, hoping to keep the mob out of the supply closet. He was well aware that he had already locked the door but he felt more secure pressing his weight against the door.

“Open up in there!” the Henchperson cried as the knocking ceased.

“What? No!” Klaus cried, giving an incredulous face towards the mere thought of surrendering now.

“Please,” the henchperson cried as they began to knock on the door once.

“ Violet! ” Klaus cried. “Right now would be a really good time for one of your plans!”

“Brain blast!” Sunny cried desperately.

“Wait, I thought I was Jimmy Neutron,” Klaus asked confused.

“Eh, you both are,” Sunny replied, with a shrug of her shoulders.

Violet slowly leaned back in the chair, pointing a limp finger at the window. “Open...the window,” she directed as Klaus gazed from the locked door to the window. He sighed as he ran towards the window opening it.

“Now what?” he asked.

“H-how...high...are we?” Violet asked, giggling slightly.

The middle orphan glanced outside. “It looks like we’re on the third floor, maybe the fourth. That’s probably around thirty or forty feet, I think,” he responded. “There’s so much smoke in the air, so it’s hard to tell. We’re not so high up, but we’re too high to jump.”

“Climb?” Sunny asked.

“There’s an intercom speaker right below us,” Klaus explained. “I suppose we could hang on to that and climb down to the bushes below, but we’d be climbing in front of a huge crowd…”

He turned to Violet, whose eyes were slowly closing, he could tell by how she strained her face that she was desperately trying to keep her eyes open. Klaus looked to Sunny worriedly. “ Vi, please,” he cried. “I hate to pressure you...but...I can’t do this without you,” he felt tears forming in his eyes.

“Can you invent something that can make us fly?” Sunny asked slowly.

Violet frowned and closed her eyes, slowly shaking her head. “S-sorry...no...fairy...dust here…” she cried.

“Violet?” Klaus called out, after a moment of watching his sister keep her eyes closed. “You’re not falling asleep, are you?” he asked gently but frantically.

“No,” she replied. “I’m...thinking.” she sighed. “We...need...to distract...the crowd...before...we...climb down,”

The two younger orphans nodded as Violet pointed a finger towards her brother. “Open...those...boxes...of rubber...bands. String them...together...to make...a cord,”

Klaus looked down and watched the volunteers giving evacuated hospital patients balloons. “But how will that distract the crowd?”

“I...don’t...know…” Violet admitted and looked to the floor. “I...I can’t...do this,”

Klaus and Sunny’s eyes widened when Violet said that. “Yes you can,” Sunny cried.

“I’m having...trouble...focusing...my...inventing...skills,” she admitted as her eyes filled to the brim with tears. “I’m...sorry,” Violet shakily tried to reach into her pocket until she realized she didn’t have any pockets. She began to shudder as she sat. Remembering her time as Olaf’s captive and how he had forced her to change from her overalls to the hospital gown. “He...he...he...he took my...last...ribbon…”

“Help,” Sunny said, as she walked over to her big sister.

“Don’t cry for help, Sunny,” Klaus said miserably. “No one will help us,”

“Help,” Sunny insisted as the youngest orphan grabbed a hold of one of the medical coats that hung on the coat rack. She opened her mouth wide and she bit down on the fabric, ripping a small strip off the coat with her teeth. Then she held up the strip of white cloth and handed it to Violet. “Ribbon,” Sunny explained as Violet gave her baby sister a weary smile. With unsteady fingers, the eldest orphan tied her hair up to keep it out of her eyes, using the thin strip of fabric instead of her hair ribbon. She closed her eyes again, and then slowly nodded.

“I know...it’s silly…” she admitted. “But...it helps,” she placed a shaky, pale hand on Sunny’s head. “Thank...you...Sunny,”

The eldest orphan sighed as she strained her face still trying to overcome the effects of the anesthetic. “Klaus...get to work...on the...rubber...bands. S-Sunny...can you open….one of these...soup cans?”

“Yes, I opened some,” Sunny began. “Earlier to help Klaus.”

Violet smiled at the toddler. With her hair up in a ribbon, even if the ribbon was spurious, her voice sounded a bit stronger and more confident than it had before, although both siblings could tell she was still disoriented. “We need...an...empty...can...asap,”

The three siblings worked quickly. Klaus opened a box of rubber bands and began tying them together using the Devil’s Tongue Knot. Sunny began to gnaw at the top of a can of soup and Violet slowly scooted her chair towards the small sink and splashed water in her face to try to make herself as alert as possible. Finally, Klaus had a long cord of rubber bands curled at his feet like a snake, Sunny had taken the top off a can of soup and was quickly pouring the contents of the can down the sink, and Violet was staring anxiously at the bottom of the closet door, from which a very thin wisp of smoke was crawling through.

“The fire...is...getting...closer,” she alerted her siblings. Even with the fire closing in on the orphans, the crowd outside the door hadn’t left and continued to bang on the door. Klaus imagined if it were any other henchperson who had found the children, that door would be torn off the hinges by now so Klaus was happy that it was the Henchperson of Indeterminate Gender who was leading the angry mob.

“The cord is all ready,” Klaus cried. Violet merely frowned.

“Not...long...enough,” she cried, looking around.

“Tube?” Sunny asked as she pulled a long piece of surgical tubing out of a bin that was placed on a few of the shelves in the supply closet.

Violet merely nodded. “It’ll...have...to...do. Klaus...tie...our cord...and the...tube...together,”

Klaus looked at his sister confused but followed her orders. “Are you sure you tied your hair tight enough? How can we distract a crowd with an empty soup can?”

“Incompetent,” Sunny chimed in which meant, “I mean I know they are all incompetent and unhelpful as Mr. Poe but I don’t think they are all stupid enough to be distracted by an empty soup can.”

Klaus quickly translated for Violet. Violet gave a light giggle. “It’s not...an...empty...soup can. Well...not...anymore,” she explained slowly. “Now...it’s...a spurious...intercom. Sunny...poke one...hole in….the bottom...of the can,”

“Wha?” Sunny replied in complete and utter confusion, but she did as her elder sister asked because Sunny trusted Violet wholeheartedly even if she didn’t understand the point. Sunny knew that Violet’s inventive skills had helped save her, herself, and their brother before. So she quickly poked a hole in the bottom of the can using her sharpest tooth.

“Now...Sunny and I...are going...to hold...this near...the window…” she explained. “But we...must...make sure...the crowd...doesn’t see it…”

“I don’t follow,”

“The crowd...has to...think your...voice...is coming...from the...intercom.”

“My voice?”

“I...can’t...I’m too...drowsy...and I...sound...nothing...like...Olaf,”

“I don’t either!” Klaus cried defensively.

Violet put a limp hand on Klaus’ shoulder. “I know...but...the crowd...will know...something’s...up...if I do...it,”

Klaus sighed but nodded his head. Violet and Sunny held the empty can near the window, and Klaus leaned in and stuck his head inside it as if it were a mask. The middle orphan took a deep breath to gather his courage, and then he began to speak. From inside the can his voice sounded scratchy and faint as if he was talking with a piece of aluminum foil over his mouth, which was precisely how Violet wanted him to sound.

“Attention!” Klaus announced. “This is Mattathias Medical-School, head of Human Resources.” he rolled his eyes as he continued. “The murderous orphans have been spotted in the unfinished wing of the hospital.” Violet smiled as she and Sunny gave him a thumbs up. “We require everyone’s assistance in making sure they do not escape. Please rush over there right away. That is all!”

Klaus pulled his head out of the can and looked at his sisters. “Do you think it worked?”

Sunny opened her mouth to answer but she was interrupted by the voice of Brandon Spats. “Did you hear that?” the children heard him say. “The criminals are over in the unfinished wing of the hospital! Come on, everyone.”

“Maybe some of us should stay here at the front entrance, just in case,” the children heard Hal suggest.

Klaus sighed as he stuck his head back into the can that his sisters were holding. “Attention! This is Mattathias! No one should stay at the front entrance of the hospital! It’s too dangerous! Proceed at once to the unfinished wing. That is all.”

The three children snuck glances outside the window as the crowd slowly began to walk away from the front of Heimlich Hospital.

“It...worked,” Violet cried in disbelief. “We...fooled them…”

“We’re as good at tricking people as Olaf is,” Klaus commented, a frown forming on his face. “And at disguises...we fooled everyone but him,”

“Anagrams,” Sunny added.

“And lying...to...people,” Violet cried, thinking of Hal, the shopkeeper at Last Chance General Store and all the Volunteers Fighting Disease.

Klaus sighed. “Maybe we’re becoming villains after all,”

“No!” Sunny shrieked. “Don’t say that.”

“We’re...not...villains…” Violet countered, even if her gut feeling was saying something completely different. “We had...to do...tricky...things...in order...to save...our lives.”

“Olaf has to do tricky things,” Klaus countered. “To save his life,”

“Different,” Sunny argued.

Violet merely frowned. “Maybe...Klaus...is right. Maybe...it’s...not...different.” Violet said sadly. “Maybe…”

Violet was interrupted by the Henchperson of Indeterminate Gender sighing angrily and now using a fire extinguisher to break down the door that separated them from the three terrified and morally grey orphans.

“We can discuss this later,” Klaus said. “We have to get the fuck out of here!”

“Climb?” Sunny asked, looking at the rubber bands and surgical tubing.

“We’re not...climbing...we’re...bouncing,” Violet explained.

“What!?” Klaus cried.

“Bounce?” Sunny asked doubtfully.

Violet merely nodded. “Klaus, tie...our rope...to this pipe,” she said, pointing to a pipe that was located right next to the door. “This way...it breaks...our fall,”

“Is this safe? ” Klaus asked, taking another look out the window and feeling anxious about his sister’s plan and how high they are.

“Plenty...of...people...bounce from...high...places on long...rubbery...cords...for fun,” violet said. “So...we can...do it...to escape,”

Klaus sighed. “I don’t know...this sounds risky,” he cried. “For one...I doubt the cord is long enough.”

“Look...it is... risky,” Violet admitted. “But...not...as risky...as a fire,”

“Or Olaf,” Sunny added nervously.

The Henchperson of Indeterminate Gender continued to pound on the door of the supply closet with the fire extinguisher. Black smoke was beginning to pour through the crack as if the henchperson was pouring ink into the closet. Even the air outside was unsettling and filled with smoke. Klaus sighed and hurriedly tied the cord to the pipe and then tugged on it to make sure it was secure.

“Okay...who’s...going...first?” Violet asked drowsily. She was leaning against the wall again since she didn’t have all the feeling in her legs back yet.

“First?” Sunny asked, confused.

Klaus merely gave her a look of utter disbelief.

“Fine...you two...are nervous.” Violet cried, shrugging her shoulders. Assuming that her siblings’ issue was the invention’s safety and not her insisting they take turns. “I...invented...it, so I’d...better...test it.”

“No,” Klaus said simply.

“Then...go first,” Violet said.

“We’re not taking turns, Vi!”

“Together,” Sunny explained.

“If we...all...go down...together,” Violet said. “I’m...not sure...the cord will...hold,”

“Tough shit,” Klaus replied.

“Fine,” Violet cried. “ Sunny, will...go first...then,”

Klaus growled and rushed over to Violet, seemingly irritated with his older sister. He grabbed her harshly by the shoulders, she fell slightly in his grasp which made him instantly regret rushing up to her. But he knew he had to drive a point across. He gripped her shoulders and shook her a bit. The way she was limp from the anesthetic made it look like Klaus was harshly shaking his sister but Sunny knew that wasn’t the case. “ Listen to me very carefully, Vi!” he hissed. “ There is no first! We are not separating ever again!” Violet stared back at him, he could still tell that she couldn’t entirely focus on anything. “ This family sticks together!” he yelled causing her to start to tear up. “ We are not splitting up!”

“But...but...b-but…” she sniffled. “Snickers...Snick...S-Snickets...take care...of...their own.” she reasoned as she put a shaky hand on her locket.

Sunny merely looked up at Violet. “So do Baudelaires.”

Violet only shook her head. “B-but...Olaf...Olaf said…”

Klaus jumped when it sounded like the Henchperson was finally creating damage against the door. “Goddammit, Vi! Fuck Olaf! I hope he fucking burns to death in this fire!” Klaus cried as he released his grip on sister but kept a gentle hand on her shoulder. “ Especially if he hurt you.” Klaus frowned as he said it, purposely emphasizing the word ‘hurt’ to try to hint at Olaf’s disgusting, vile behavior towards Violet that was different from his behavior towards Klaus and Sunny. Violet looked towards Klaus and then to Sunny, eventually frowning and softly shaking her head and giving a small shrug in response.

There was an uncomfortable silence between the three siblings until Violet turned towards both Klaus and Sunny. “It won’t...support all...of us,” she explained.

“We’re not leaving anyone behind,” he said firmly. “Not this time. Either we all escape, or none of us do.”

“But if...none of...us do,” Violet said tearfully. “Then there...won’t be...anyone left...Olaf will...have won.”

Klaus shook his head as he reached into his pockets and pulled out one of the old photographs that he and Sunny had retrieved back when they lived at their Aunt Josephine’s. Klaus unfolded it and his sisters could see it was a photograph taken some years before Violet was even born. In the middle of the photograph, just like the one hidden in the depths of Lemony Snicket’s wallet, stood three people. All smiling and holding each other's hands. Klaus pointed first towards the tall, skinny man with glasses, then he pointed to a brown-haired woman who wore a fierce smile as she held the hands of the men she loved, and then finally he pointed to a man who wore a frown on his face, and a fedora and trenchcoat in hopes of masking his identity. “Jacques Snicket...your uncle...said there was a survivor of a recent fire ,” Klaus explained, his voice thick with tears.

Violet’s eyes widened. “The film...do you...still...have it?”

“No...we had to give it to Esme to save you,” he explained. “But that’s not important.” he looked from his little sister to his big sister. “We have to survive and find them. All of us . We all deserve to see who the survivor is. We all deserve that happy ending we’ve been wanting for a while now.” the middle orphan began to tear up. As his guilt began to surface. “and I’d rather die than lose either one of my sisters... again.” The bookworm quickly wiped away a few of his tears. “I can’t...I won’t let him take either of you, again.”

Klaus looked down at Sunny and then to Violet. She stood shakily before him in a mere hospital gown and she was bruised. Her cheeks were still red, her wrists and ankles had severe chafing from her struggling against her restraints, that they were either raw or simply pink. “I’m so sorry, Violet.” Klaus cried.

“Not your fault,” Sunny said as she watched Violet struggle to speak.

He looked down at Sunny. “I’m so sorry to you, too, Sunny. He only got you because you were protecting me. You both...were protecting me when he took you . ” he cried.

“Not your fault,” Sunny reassured. “I’d do it again...in a heartbeat,”

Violet nodded slowly in agreement.

The three siblings were tearing up as the Henchperson created the beginnings of a hole in the wall.

“Go time,” Sunny cried. “Escape now. Feelings later.”

“Agreed,” the two older siblings cried, although Violet sounded dizzier than Klaus.

Klaus picked up Sunny as Violet held the surgical tubing up so Klaus could spin himself and Sunny, effectively wrapping the tubing around the two siblings. He glanced towards Violet. “ We are going to survive...and find out what happened. We’ll find the survivor and either bring Olaf to jail...or kill him.”

“Down for murder,” Sunny cried.

“I...still...think if...we take...turns,” Violet protested frantically. “There’s a...better chance...that one of us...will survive.”

“All or nothing,” Sunny cried.

“We’re not leaving anyone behind,” Klaus said firmly. “ That’s what makes us different from Olaf and Esme.”

“ Ohana,” Sunny cried as she reached out and pulled the front of Violet’s hospital gown. The eldest orphan was still so limp that her minuscule effort succeeded and Violet now leaned on her and their brother. “ Just us,” she told Violet as Klaus wrapped a tight arm around both of his sisters as he slowly spun Violet around with them as he inched towards the window.

Violet didn’t fight. She didn’t struggle. She leaned in closer to her siblings feeling their warmth against her cold arms. “You’re right,” she said finally.

The hole in the door got even bigger as Violet shrieked.

“Don’t worry, Vi. We’re not leaving you behind again,” Klaus told her. Violet nodded as she did her best to wrap her arms tightly around her two younger siblings.

“I’ll...hold...on...to...you,” she explained.

“Same here,” Sunny cried as she wrapped her tiny arm around the arm that carried her and forced her tiny hand into her sister’s.

As Klaus carried his sisters to the window, he looked down once more, immediately regretting his decision. He glanced at the rubber band cord that Violet had him make and then at the surgical tubing he had tied it, too, and had now wrapped a good chunk of it around the three siblings.

“If it’s forty feet, we won’t make it.” He predicted.

“If it’s...say...maybe...thirty…,’ Violet began as she followed Klaus’ gaze down.

“We might,” Sunny shrugged.

The three children carefully made their way out of the window onto the small platform that lay alongside the window.

The huddled siblings barely fit on the ledge as the siblings looked down. This was at the same time as Olaf’s henchperson had successfully broken a hole in the door.

“Here I am, Nurse Lucafont.” the Henchperson called inside the empty supply closet. Utterly confused as to how the supply closet was empty. The children could hear the henchperson’s voice and look at one another nervously and then looked back down.

“I’m scared,” Violet admitted drowsily.

“I’m frightened,” Klaus cried.

“Sheer terror,” Sunny chimed.

As if they were thinking the exact same thing, each of the siblings gripped onto their two siblings as tight as they could. Violet managed to shout, “Hold on tight!” as the three siblings leaped out of the window of Heimlich Hospital.

STOP!

I am alone this evening, and I am alone because of several cruel twists of fate, a phrase which here means that nothing has happened the way I thought it should. Once I was a content individual, with a comfortable home, loving family that I loved very much, and a plethora of bedtime stories that were too strange to have been true...but...all of those things have been taken away from me, and now the only trace I have of those happy days are the photos I store in my pockets. As I sit in this very tiny room, printing these words with this very large pen, I feel as if our lives have been nothing but some dismal play, and that the playwright who invented these cruel twists of fate is somewhere far above me, laughing and laughing at their creation. This is not a pleasant way to feel, but this is how my story goes.

Now, despite my extensive research and my associate’s knowledge of abandoned VFD libraries, there are many things in this world that I do not know. I do not know how butterflies get out of their cocoons without damaging their wings. I do not know why anyone would boil vegetables when roasting them is tastier. I do not know how to make olive oil, and I do not know why dogs bark before an earthquake, and I do not know why some people voluntarily choose to climb mountains where it is freezing and difficult to breathe or live in the suburbs, where the coffee is watery and all of the houses look alike. I do not know why people start or join cults and I do not know how some people let revenge consume them to a highly unhealthy degree. I do not know how some people are brave enough to follow their passion in a world set out to destroy them. And I sadly, do not know how to stop the disastrous domino effect or fucked up twists of fates that seem to be plaguing several lives.

As such, I do not know where Violet Snicket or the Baudelaires are now, or if they are safe or if they are even still alive. But there are some things that I do know, thanks to the extensive research I’ve done investigating these cases, and one of them is that the window of the supply closet in the Ward for People with Nasty Rashes of Heimlich Hospital was not thirty or forty feet off the ground, as Klaus had guessed.

It’s twenty, which is exactly one foot higher than the length of the cord, so when the children leaped into the smoky air, clinging to each other for dear life, Violet’s invention worked perfectly. Like a yo-yo, the children bounced gently up and down, brushing their feet against one of the bushes planted in front of the hospital, and after a few bounces, Sunny released her grip on her siblings, although they kept theirs, and chewed through the elastic surgical tubing, biting through it just in time to smack Olaf’s henchperson in the face as they looked out the window. When the surgical tubing broke, Violet and Klaus fell the rest of the way to solid ground, Violet nearly toppling over. Klaus quickly put Sunny down and focused more of his attention and strength on Violet.

“We...made...it,” Violet cried.

“It was a close call,” Klaus agreed.

“But we survived,” Sunny argued.

The three siblings looked behind them at the hospital and saw just how close of a call it had been. The building looked like a fiery ghost, especially more so in a few places, with great bursts of flame coming from the windows, and oceans of smoke pouring from great gaping holes in the walls. The children could hear glass shattering as the windows burned away, and the crackle of wood as the floors began to fall through in some areas of the hospital. It occurred to the three children that their own homes must have looked like this on the day it burned down, and the three siblings stepped back from the burning building and huddled together as the air grew thick with ashes and smoke, obscuring the hospital from view.

“Where can we go?” Sunny asked.

“I don’t know. But any minute now someone’s bound to recognize us or realize that we’re not in the unfinished half of the hospital.” Klaus cried.

Klaus, with one hand holding Sunny’s and the other dragging Violet, began to walk away from the forming crowd. As more and more people pushed passed the children, rushing out of the hospital.

“Act casual,” Klaus told his sisters, noticing that Violet was adding more and more of her weight on to him.

“I’m...trying.;.”

Klaus glanced towards an empty ambulance. He tried to drag his sisters towards it in hopes of hot wiring it and driving far away from Olaf. But EMTs had beat him to it and began loading patients aboard.

“Keep your eyes open for those murderous brats!” one nurse yelled.

“I’ll find them. I know I will.” a volunteer fighting disease assured.

Klaus heard this and redirected himself and his sisters as he hurried behind a small half wall behind a few bushes in the front of the hospital. He was thankful for all the smoke in the air, it made this pitiful hiding place better.

“Stay down,” Klaus explained. “In The Encyclopedia of Escaping Arson, the author wrote that there’s more oxygen closer to the ground, so we can breathe more easily down here. But we need to get to some kind of shelter right away.”

Violet and Sunny scooted as close to Klaus as they could. Hoping to shrink themselves. Klaus and Violet both edged their heads up, Violet slowly beginning to focus better, as they gazed around for any way to escape. Klaus looked towards the left and Violet glanced towards the right, the smoky air was making it a bit difficult to see everything clearly.

“Where is there shelter?” Sunny asked. “Hospital is only building for miles.”

“...and it’s burning to the ground…” Klaus cried sadly.

“You!” a voice called out in the smoke. The three orphans froze. They did not freeze because a random passerby had recognized them and was pointing them out. They froze because the voice that had called out from the smoke was a voice all three siblings heard in their nightmares. Klaus gripped tightly to both of his sisters as Sunny let out a whimper and Violet let out a soft squeal as she and Klaus ducked their heads back down.

“He...didn’t...see...us, right?”

“I hope not,” Klaus cried.

The three children stayed as low as they could as they listened in on the madman’s rage.

“You!” Olaf called again, this time slamming his hand on the hood of his car. “Hooks for hands!” Olaf barked. “This way!”

The siblings breathed a quick sigh of relief, realizing that Olaf had not been referring to them but instead one of his henchpeople. With this newfound knowledge, Sunny slowly crawled over Klaus and Violet to etch her head around the edge of the half wall. Where only one eye could see Olaf while the other’s vision was obstructed.

Sunny watched a long, black shape emerge from the smoky air, and she could see it was an automobile, pulling up in front of the hospital. Not too far from the children. An automobile is somewhat like a shelter, but the siblings froze on the ground and dared not crawl an inch farther toward that car.

“Hurry up Esme!” Olaf yelled. “Hurry up! Or I’ll leave you behind!”

“We’re coming, darling!” Esme cried out as she hurried towards the car.

“Can you see the car in the smoke?” he asked.

“Yes, darling,” she replied. “Open the trunk I’ll throw the costumes in.” The three children held their breath as they listened to her odd footsteps as she walked right passed them, towards and around Olaf’s car.

“Oh, alright,” Olaf sighed, and Sunny watched in silence as the tall figure of her enemy stepped out of his vehicle.

“Wait up, Olaf!” the bald man yelled.

“You fool! I told you to call me Mattathias until we leave the hospital grounds!” Olaf growled as he opened the trunk. He watched as Esme threw the costumes in. He merely glared at her.

“What?”

He sighed angrily. “You lost my pet and the Baudelaires!” She opened her mouth to argue but he merely shook his head. “ But... it’s not only that! ” he yelled as he punched the roof of his car angrily. Esme rolled her eyes dismissively as she rounded the car and took her seat next to Olaf.

“You know this is horrific!” Esme whined. “We never found the sugar bowl after that stupid librarian told me it would be here!”

Olaf rolled his eyes at the mention of the sugar bowl.

“It’s worse than that,” he hissed.

“I know, and the bratty orphans escaped again,” Esme said rolling her eyes.

“Oh, it’s very, very worse than that,” he hissed in annoyance.

Esme looked to Olaf confused. Olaf slowly turned towards Esme as he took a deep breath, grasping the steering wheel tightly. “ There may be a survivor of a recent fire,” he hissed as her eyes widened, and then her expression shifted to match her fiery glare as she thought of the woman who had stolen everything from her.

“ Beatrice…!” Esme cried through gritted teeth.

Violet gasped as she heard sirens approaching. “The...police...and fire...fight...ers are here,”

“If they already thought we were murderous kidnappers, now they’ll think we’re all arsonists.” Klaus reasoned. “We need an escape,”

“Do...you...do you trust...me?” Violet asked after a moment of staring hard at Olaf’s trunk. The trunk was opened to where Violet could see that the lid of the trunk was peppered with tiny holes, bullet holes, it looked like, undoubtedly from being pursued by the police.

“...yeah?” Klaus answered back hesitantly. It was no lie that he trusted Violet with his life but her asking worried him for a number of reasons.

Violet leaned as close as she could to her siblings so she could whisper to them without being heard. “We’ve...got...to go in...there,” she said.

“Where?” Klaus whispered in reply.

“We... need to get...in O-Olaf’s...tr-trunk,” Violet reasoned.

“ Wha?!” Sunny shrieked in a horrified whisper.

“Are you still that high off the knock out drugs?” Klaus asked as he and Sunny glanced at one another in disbelief as if there was no way Violet had suggested for the three siblings to voluntarily stuff themselves into Olaf’s trunk.

“Oh yeah,” Violet said giggling. She placed her hand in Klaus’ hair. “You’ve got...rainbow... hair.” She gently slapped Klaus’ face. “Like...a clown,”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or serious,” Klaus replied in an annoyed tone.

“Doesn’t....matter. But that’s not...the point. We...have to avoid...getting cap...tured,” she said, her eyes rolling back slightly in her head. “and...find out...who the...survivor...is.”

“Getting in that trunk is getting captured!” Klaus argued.

Olaf took a deep breath and then glanced at one of his henchmen who stood outside of the car, looking around aimlessly. “Get in this car this instant! I’m leaving on the count of three! It’s been splendid setting this fire, but we’ve got to hunt down a certain...survivor...before those brats do!”

“Or VFD,” Esme added. “You know, the real VFD full of hypocrites, not those idiotic singers!”

“Just one second, boss. We’re waiting for Ainsley,” the Hook-Handed Man explained.

“I’m not going to wait around to find out if that fool lived or died!” Olaf yelled. “One!”

The Hook-Handed man tapped his hook worriedly on the roof of his boss’ car as he gazed around. Violet unknowingly lifted her head a bit until she felt as though the henchman had seen her and she ducked down worriedly.

“Y-you said you...trusted me,” Violet whined.

“I’d rather die than get into that fucker’s trunk!” Klaus hissed.

“Don’t you want to...bring him to justice?” Violet asked. “Don’t you...wanna find the...survivor? And clear...our names?”

Klaus looked to his sister, frowning. “Of course, I do. But I don’t want to die before we can!”

“No, no,” Sunny cried as she shook her head. “Been there...done that.”

Violet frowned as she placed her hands in her siblings and she held their hands as firmly as she could, to the point where it hurt to hang on to them. “Think of... everything... we survived together, ” she whispered, looking from her burdened brother to her scared sister. “We’ve lived through countless...unfortunate events...only to find ourselves... alone. ”

“Just us,” Sunny reminded her.

“I know…” Violet replied, smiling at Sunny. “But if one of...our parents...survived. It’ll all be worthwhile!” She released her grip on her siblings. “We have to find them...if it’s the last thing we do.”

Sunny sighed as she gazed at the gaping trunk, which looked like the mouth of some dark and smoky beast, eager to devour her and her siblings. As it had once devoured her and her friends, Duncan and Isadora Quagmire, not too long ago. But she knew her big sister was right and she trusted Violet to get her and her siblings out of danger, not in it. “You’re right,” Sunny murmured finally. “Getting in that trunk is our only hope.”

Violet smiled as she looked towards Klaus, who merely shook her head defiantly. “You’re right. You’re right about all of that. But I’m sorry, I’m not getting into that trunk.”

“Klaus...come on,” Sunny pleaded.

“What choice do we have?” Violet asked. “Trust me...I wish we had another escape...but we don’t, Klaus.”

“Violet, I am not getting in that trunk and there’s nothing you can do to convince me otherwise,” Klaus folded his arms across his chest. “You aren’t thinking straight, obviously. So I guess I’ll think of something.”

“ Two!” They heard Olaf shout to his henchpeople as the Hook-Handed Man smiled and rushed Ainsley into their boss’ car.

Klaus continued to shake his head at the sound of Olaf’s voice.

Violet rolled her eyes, tapped her finger on her chin deep in thought. She glanced at Sunny and a wicked smile grew on her face. “I...know..how to get...you in that trunk,”

“What did I just say?” Klaus asked. “I’m not getting in…” he began before Violet stood up shakily, picking up Sunny in the process and running stealthily towards Olaf’s trunk.

“No, you did not just…” Klaus cried angrily. “Dammit, Violet!” he hissed following her quickly, continuing to look behind the siblings to make sure that no one was following them.

Violet stumbled as she reached the trunk. She fell to the ground, shielding Sunny from the pavement. “Whoopsie,” she whispered.

Klaus catches up to his sisters and merely glares at Violet as the three crawl a few more inches to the trunk. “Of all the dirty handed tricks you could pull…” he started, in a hushed whisper.

“It got you over here...didn’t it?” Violet asked as she opened Olaf’s trunk slowly. The children ducked down low as the trunk lid stayed opening welcoming them inside with a damp, terrible odor that had Violet having second thoughts.

Violet stumbled awkwardly as she tried to maneuver herself into Olaf’s trunk while still kneeling down. “Give me a hand, please,” Violet begged her brother. Klaus sighed as he reluctantly helped Violet into the trunk.

“We’ll be able to breathe, right?” Sunny asked, worriedly as Violet rolled as far as she could allowing her brother and sister room. Violet felt her knee slam against something but she didn’t pay it any attention as she felt the shuffling of Olaf’s troupe member trying to get situated in the back seat.

“Yes,” Klaus whispered as he picked up Sunny. “Air will come through the bullet holes,” he explained to his baby sister as he laid her atop of their big sister. The second Sunny was laying down on Violet, she began to squirm and shake as if she were having a panic attack. Klaus frowned as he glanced down at Violet, who merely frowned back. Violet hastily unclasped her locket and handed it to Sunny.

“Sometimes when I’m scared…” Violet admitted. “The only thing that calms...me down. Is our Mama.” Violet shakily moved her hands to open the locket but she was having slight difficulties. Sunny reached up and opened the locket for her. Both sisters gazed up at the picture of their mother, smiling down on them.

Klaus sighed as he grabbed hold of the trunk. “This is not the sort of shelter I had in mind,” he said begrudgingly. “But...I guess it might do.”

“It’ll have to do,” Violet whispered to him. And with that, the middle orphan maneuvered himself inside his enemy’s trunk, beside his older sister.

“ Three!!” Olaf shouted as Violet simultaneously closed the trunk just as the bald man slammed the passenger back side door shut. Once Violet had closed the trunk, the siblings were left in utter darkness, and their shelter rattled and shook as Olaf started the engine and began to drive across the landscape, which was as flat and desolate as ever. But the children could not see outside, of course. In the blackness of the trunk, they could not see anything at all. Sunny whimpered and handed Violet back her locket.

“We’re right here, Sunshine,” Klaus whispered, trying to hide the fact that he, too, was terrified. They could only hear their long, shivering breaths as the air rushed through the bullet holes, and feel their shoulders tremble as they shivered in fear.

Klaus pulled Sunny a bit towards him so that she was now laying on both him and Violet and not squishing Violet entirely. Violet’s head rolled around as Olaf drove.

“Here,” Klaus whispered, prompting for Violet to lift her head. He placed his arm underneath his sister’s head giving her some comfort as Sunny grabbed onto Violet’s hand. Violet snuggled closer to her siblings still high on the anesthetic.

“You...guys came back...for me,” she cried, tears flowing.

“That’s what siblings do,” Sunny explained.

“You’re our sister,” Klaus agreed.

“Where to next, boss?’ the children could hear the Hook-Handed man ask.

“How the fuck would I know!?” Olaf yelled as he reached outside his window to remove a flyer that was obstructing his vision. “I’m not…”

He stopped once he read the flyer. “...a fortune teller. But I know who is,” he said wickedly as he began to laugh maniacally.

The children shifted slightly when Olaf slammed his foot on the gas. The three siblings huddled together as tightly as they could. Both Violet and Klaus held one of Sunny’s tiny hands. Both older siblings could feel their sister tremble as she laid on them inside Olaf’s trunk. They knew that she was having flashbacks of her time in captivity with the Quagmires. They were trying to do all they could to relax her.

As the three gazed outside the bullet holes of Olaf’s car, it was as if they were stargazing, although the siblings were all falling victim to their thoughts. Klaus sighed, breaking the silence.

“I guess...we’re still on the lam,” he whispered.

“We’re alive and...we’re together,” Violet countered.

Sunny held on tightly to her siblings’ hands trying to stay calm and not freak out that she had once again found herself inside Olaf’s trunk. The bitter stench was bringing back memories that Sunny would rather stay buried away from her psyche. She knew circumstances were slightly different, this time. She wasn’t forced into the trunk against her will, she had been persuaded by her elder sister to voluntarily enter the trunk. She had her siblings and she knew they would never let anyone hurt her and the biggest difference is that Olaf and Esme had no idea that she and her siblings were hitching a ride in his trunk.

Klaus’ eyes slowly began to fall as he slightly shifted. He was exhausted in more ways than one. But as he felt Violet shift her head slightly on his arm and Sunny grip tighter to his hand, he knew it was what he had to do. He didn’t know exactly what had happened to his sister during her time in Olaf’s clutches and he was scared that she might not know the answer and it pained him to know that Olaf was the only person that could give his sister closure on that topic. He sighed as quietly as he could. He wasn’t the happiest about how Violet convinced him to get into Olaf’s trunk but he would have to deal with it. Klaus was fighting the urge to sleep because he refused to be asleep if the children were discovered and he wouldn’t be able to fight for his sisters. He felt like he’s failed them so many times already, that he needs to step up his game and be there more for them. That’s what he vowed to do for his sisters and whoever the survivor was.

Violet held onto Sunny’s arm as she began to silently sob. She was still scared that they were now in the trunk of the man who wants to do nothing but harm them. She was still contemplating everything that had happened to her or what she suspected happened. Violet was unsure of a lot of things right now and how close she was to her siblings was one of them. In her head, Olaf and Esme’s words ring endlessly on a tiresome loop that was continually driving Violet insane. Violet still had huge insecurities but she was starting to doubt a few of her insecurities.

If what they said was true...Klaus had every chance to take Sunny and run...but they stayed. They rescued me. He kept himself and his sister in danger to save me . Why didn’t he take Sunny and run? She pondered to herself. She desperately hoped, Maybe just maybe Olaf was wrong and Klaus did see her as a sister, not just a protector.

Violet sighed, still coming down from the amount of anesthetic Olaf had administered to her. “What’s...that stanza...again?” she asked hastily.

“What?” Klaus whispered back, confused. His eyes were closed as if he had lost his fight against sleep.

“The Snicket lad?” Sunny whispered in the softest of whispers, terrified to see what Olaf would do if he heard the name ‘Snicket’ and then opened his trunk to find one and two Baudelaires.

Violet nodded. “You know...you guys are gonna love him,” she replied in a whisper.

Klaus and Sunny looked at one another both knowing what their sister meant. Although both younger siblings had different predictions when it comes to the survivor, they allowed Violet the courtesy of being able to freely share hers.

“If you drive away in secret,” Klaus whispered. “You’ll be a volunteer,”

“So don’t scream,” sunny whispered.

“When we take you…” Violet whispered.

“ The world is quiet here…” the three siblings recited simultaneously as they held on tighter to each other.

It was not the sort of shelter the children had in mind, never in their entire lives, but as they huddled as close together as they could, they guessed it might do. For these three orphans, if indeed they were still orphans, the shelter of Count Olaf’s trunk would have to do, until something better came along.

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