#forever kicking myself in the foot for selling them
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
IIII HAVE BRAINROT~
Doot da doot DOOT DOOT
I HAAAVE BRAINROT~
BA BAM
#captin azoth#sailor azoth#artists on tumblr#digital art#procreate#fanart#marvel#marvel comics#Deadpool#wade Wilson#wolverine#Logan howlett#domino#daredevil#matt Murdock#Spider-Man#spidey#peter Parker#i feel like im back in Highschool#YOU DONT UNDERSTAND#DEADPOOL WAS MY MUSE WHEN I WAS 16#so many notebooks lost to time filled with Deadpool doodles#and spooders#and Wolvie#gawd i wish i had those#I MISS MY DEADPOOL COMICS#forever kicking myself in the foot for selling them#gambit#remy lebeau#REMEMBER IT
171 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hey guys
I hate doing this i hate it i really do but, on my last day of work I watched someone get stabbed in the neck and his assailant sprayed bear mace all over the hallway at the security guards trying to tackle him. I've never seen that level of human fear and panic in public before as people scrambled for the exits, nor have I ever felt that suffocated before. Not even the delta variant of COVID made it hurt that much just to breathe. Bear mace is a special kind of agony that I hope none of you ever have to experience. I'm young and healthy and able-bodied so my lungs should be able to bounce back, but that doesn't make me invincible. My eyes are still watering and I still have a bit of a cough, but it seems to be getting better with time.
I'm lucky to live in a country with free physical healthcare if anything gets worse or goes wrong there, so I don't have to worry about that avenue. The main thing I'm having issues with is the mental toll that takes on a person. This incident occurred just days after I dealt with the cops for a different reason when I told off the wrong group of kids for being abusive to a service worker and they kept me holed up in a KFC for over an hour banging at me through the glass and threatening my life if I stepped outside. And after the stabbing incident, our head office wanted us to open up our store and start selling again as if nothing was wrong, as if we were making up excuses to leave early. They won't be covering their staff's mental health nor giving them any hazard pay or time off that our friends at the Starbucks are getting. Therapy isn't covered in Canada.
That was also my last day at that job, and while I have another way better one lined up soon, there's still a gap of unknown (but not long) length between positions during which I'm effectively unemployed while my new supervisor slots me into the next available training course. This was supposed to be a well-earned break for me to rest and relax, but I worry it will be overshadowed by the murky cloud of settling trauma. While I have savings, I have to make them stretch as long and far as possible since I have no income coming in and I don't have a set date for when I will again, just "very soon."
I haven't been able to sleep and I'm too nauseated to eat. I still feel numb and in shock to what I saw and experienced. The lingering bear mace isn't bad enough to be the culprit, as I've slept and eaten through worse colds at this point. I think I'm going to have to book an emergency session with my therapist, but his rates are a bit pricey. I'm going to ask the office about possible payment plans or if things can get at least partially covered under AHS in the event of something like this since it's a threat to my physical health if it's making me rapidly agoraphobic and affecting my ability to take care of my basic needs like sleep and feeding myself. Even if my old work would cover it (highly doubt it), I don't work there anymore. That was the exact date outlined in my resignation letter. It's just a shit situation all around.
But if you guys have the ability to kick me a few extra bucks that will all go towards therapy, I would be forever grateful for it. You don't have to, please don't feel obligated. I've gotten out of worse scraps than this financially, and if all else fails, I can beg my grandmother for some of the hoard of oil money cash that she sits on like a dragon. The problem is that she's incredibly psychologically abusive, but she's the only member of my family who could foot a bill like that on this short of notice. So you don't have to worry that I'll go bankrupt or anything. But for obvious reasons, I'd rather not compile onto the mental health problems I'm experiencing if I can avoid it.
And the job I'm onboarding onto has a fantastic salary and benefits, so I can pay everybody back once I have a reliable source of income again. With the amount of followers I have, even a dollar or a reblog helps immensely. And I won't accept anything that exceeds the amount a session costs if I get that much in cumulative assistance (180 CAD), so it's all going to therapy.
My canadian p**p** is .me/damodrawz if you can spare anything, but don't feel obligated.
Thanks everybody, I hope things get better soon.
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
just me rambling about my Vampire: the Masquerade characters because I made myself sad
Your name is Lucía Szabó and you are being raised by your eccentric aunt in Buenos Aires. Your mother died shortly after giving birth to you in 1906 and it clearly still pains your aunt. You have no other family to speak of and your aunt doesn’t like to talk about them, so you brush it off. You are brought up in luxury and comfort and you attend the best private schools and clubs, mingling with the elite. One day your friend confesses that the mayor’s son assaulted her and the next day he is found brutally murdered. Your aunt doesn’t pressure you to get married, any unwanted suitors are quickly kicked out and any wanted suitors must pass her judgement. You become a teacher, meet a charming professor that you love with all your heart and create a school together. Your husband eventually tells you that right before proposing he had a nightmare about your aunt turning into a monster and threatening to kill him if he hurt you. You brush it off. You get older and suddenly realize that your aunt looks exactly the same, even as the years pass and your friends’ parents begin to grey. You brush it off, reasoning that the rare cosmetics she keeps in her vanity and forbids you from touching are the secret to keeping her young looking. You give birth to two daughters and name your aunt Godmother (unofficially, of course, since she refuses to step foot in a church). On a soft summer night, your aunt asks you if you want to live forever. You say no and she never brings it up again. Your daughters grow up and your aunt still looks the same.
Your name is Ana Zaselki, born in 1928. You are raised by your parents in a nice house and attend their school, but money is a bit tight so you are not used to luxury. Any presents and fancy things come from your great-aunt and Godmother. She is imposing and beautiful and sometimes looks younger than even your own mother. She teaches you Hungarian and makes you beautiful dresses. You fall down while playing in the garden and break your leg, that angle is way too unnatural to be a simple sprain - but your Godmother has you close your eyes and you scream as she sets the bone back in place and- it’s good as new. Like nothing had happened. After that, you want to become a doctor. Your godmother uses her power and influence to get rid of any man who tries to stop you. You contract polio while working at a hospital during an outbreak - no one is allowed to see you and they are keeping you in quarantine, but somehow your godmother sneaks in and sits at your bedside. She brushes your hair back and holds your hand with no hesitation, singing old lullabies from the old country. She asks if you want to live forever, without ever getting sick again. You refuse. Your Godmother nods and keeps singing until you close your eyes again.
Your name is Luisa Zaselki, and you’re born in 1930. You are raised by your parents in a nice house and attend their school, but money is a bit tight so you are not used to luxury. Any presents and fancy things come from your great-aunt and Godmother. She is imposing and beautiful and sometimes looks younger than even your own mother. She teaches you Hungarian and makes you beautiful dresses. You fall in love with the process of making clothes and decide you want to be a designer. You work hard and refuse any direct help - it will be your name on the brand and no one else’s. The owner of a best-selling magazine asks that you model your lingerie line yourself if you want your collection to be featured there. The next day, he is found caught up in the printing machines, blood mixing with the ink. The editor publishes an extensive praise article on your collection. Your parents grow older and weaker and your godmother stays the same. She is there for the birth of your daughter - the result of a fling, but husbands are useless anyway - and your godmother presents her with the prettiest blankets and socks.
On and on it goes. Mothers and daughters and a single Godmother that started it all.
Your name is Maria Szereda, you are the fifth child in a minor noble family in Hungary. You are awkward and quiet and prefer to spend your days at the loom and sewing table. The war kills your older siblings and mother and nearly everyone you knew. You are seventeen and unmarried, the nobility are also dwindling in numbers, and your father doesn’t know what to do with you so he sends you away to serve a countess. Maybe she’ll find you a husband. The Countess is a beautiful woman and a very vain one too. She loves the way you work with dresses, altering them to be more up to date and coming up with new ways to add details. She asks if you want to live forever. You wouldn’t have to worry about husbands or dowries, you can sew and weave to your heart’s content. You say yes. You almost faint the first time Countess Bathory shows you the blood bath she uses to remain beautiful, the now dead serving girl with her throat cut hanging upside down to add to the blood. It’s also the first time your mouth waters at the scent of fresh blood. You don’t watch the torture your mistress enjoys so much, you drink their blood because the smell permeates every inch of the castle and not drinking it feels worse, and you keep to your sewing needles and fabrics because if you do a good job then she won’t turn on you.
It’s 1605 when the church and crown come for your mistress. You escape and find yourself completely alone. You spend the next three centuries going around Europe, endearing yourself to courts and kings with your skills and beauty. A French duke tries to have his way with you and you kill him, draining him dry. You are euphoric and restless and eager for more, was this how Bathory felt when she tortured scullery maids? You catch an English lord taking advantage of a maid and kill him too. The Spanish prince and Austrian count and Swedish captain suffer similar fates.
You get bored and go to Buenos Aires in 1900. There you hire a lady’s maid named Ana Szabó, a fellow Hungarian immigrant. She is soft-spoken and sweet but has a ruthless streak and can draw blood if needed. You ask her if she wants to live forever.
She says no.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
SDR2 guys x intimidating looking but sweet S/O
Hajime Hinata:
· You had been Hajime’s best friend for as long as he could remember. You were always so smart and the top in your class. Truthfully Hajime expected you to be invited to Hope’s Peak, but… you were always rambunctious. As smart as you were, you didn’t care for rules that existed outside ones of safety. You were labeled the school delinquent, getting into fights, breaking most rules for the sake of breaking them, doing whatever you could to get a reaction from others, all the while smiling and laughing away having the time of your life.
· “Ah! Hajime! That’s amazing!” “Y/N!?” You scooped him into your arms, lifting off his feet, spinning around and around. “MY boy, going to HOPE’S PEAK ACADEMY! This is amazing!” Suddenly your spinning came to a stop, stomping a foot on the ground to do so. “Hajime. Hope’s Peak is far, so you’ll be moving right? If that’s the case, you better text me every day! Okay, you don’t have to if you don’t want too, but at least keep me informed of the big stuff like how your first day was or the school festival or at least the sports day! Or, OR! If you’d like, maybe I could move with you, somewhere close to the school and I’ll just get a job in the area so you could just talk to me in person! I would visit, but even by train it’s a two-day trip and I’d probably get board at some point and get kicked off, and there’s also studying for school or work or whatever I do.” A light pink dusted Hajime’s cheeks, feeling a bit flustered at how excited you were, still effortlessly him closely, high off the ground. He swore his heart began to race seeing your absolutely beaming smile which seemed to shine brighter than the sun to him.
· When with his friends he’d speak of you often, not to the point of annoyance, just enough for them to know he clearly missed you. From how he described you, you seemed to be the sweetest, most wholesome person in existence despite being a bit rowdy. So when Kazuichi caught Hajime holding hands and appearing to be going on a date with a person covered in scars exposed by your unbuttoned shirt, haired dyed a bright blond, scary tattoos, spiked jacket and boots, even having a mask covering you face, nobody believed him till Hajime walked in on the conversation, saying that was you. After that they insisted on meeting you, wanting to know such a seemingly contrasting person existed, and when they did meet you, they gave Hajime their approval, even if he didn’t want or need it.
Izuru Kamakura:
· Many things Izuru found boring, but if he had to choose one thing he found more boring than anything else, it’d have to be the baseless rumors surrounding you, his partner, all because you had a scary face. It was so ridiculous he couldn’t even entertain the idea of you secretly being the heir of a yakuza gang or something so off the wall even he couldn’t recall. Whenever he heard such rumors as he walked down Hope’s Peak’s halls, he thought he may just fall asleep from how tiring it was, thinking about the mental gymnastics people had to go through to even come to such conclusions.
· It was another day and again he heard of your imaginary exploits of having killed a man in cold blood for money or some such and instantly he just felt exhausted. He continued to walk till he stopped before a door and knocked. “Oh, hey Izu-baby. What brings you here?” “… I just found myself here.” You chuckled, simply opening the door, taking your boyfriend’s hand and leading him in.
· You promptly plopped him into a seat, going off to get something, Izuru had the chance to examine the many brushes, hair products and hair accessories spread out on the counter. There were even several sticky notes on the edges of the large vanity mirror, neat writing noting some appointments you had. Seems like he had come in when you were cleaning between appointments. “I found a new brush and I think it should work well with your thick long hair.” You placed your a hand on one of the back rest corners of the chair, leaning a little over him, smiling as you held said brush before him. “Then test it.”
· You giddily collected his hair, your touch occasionally grazing across his skin. Your hands though covered in cuts, slightly dyed from all your hair styling work, and probably tired from having worked for almost six hours straight according to the sticky notes, they still were ever so gentle, making sure to not get caught on or pull any knots. Then you began to brush, starting from the bottom and working your way up. “Izuru, you have a few split ends, and it’s been a while, mind if I give you a light trim while I have you here?” “You have an appointment in forty-three minuets.” “Hmm… Yeah, I can get this done in time.” Once you reached the top you gave his hair a few extra strokes from top to bottom, making sure you got everything. “Oh, I also found a new shampoo which can help your hair. It’s still so dull, but at this point it might be because of your diet since I can’t seem to find anything that can work for you. Have you been eating? Has the staff been testing you on talents again and not feeding you?” “No.” You were going to ponder for a moment, to try figuring out what your boyfriend’s problem could be when said boyfriend placed a hand on your cheek, lightly pulling you beside him. Closing his eyes, he leaned in and kissed you on the cheek. “You’re so exhausted you forgot we spoke of this very subject yesterday.” “Huh?” Your entire face flushed a bright red, still unused to Izuru’s sparce displays of affection. Then to your confusion he pulled you onto his lap. “I-Izu-baby?” “You are taking a nap.” For some reason in that moment of seeing you so flustered he recalled the rumors. The thought of you even harming a fly was laughable, you were the absolute sweetest, kindest, caring person he had ever met. Holding you close he simply leaned into you, thinking you could both use a nap together.
Nagito Komaeda:
· You made your own rumors. The ones about you secretly being an assassin, you started it. The one about how you once were an international thief, you did it. The one about you selling drugs, that one was actually an accident, you were just getting a friend their pain meds, but you spread about a few more stories like it not long after. Why purposefully spread rumors many would wonder… well… there were two reasons.
· The first, you found most people annoying and simply didn’t want to deal with them, content with your small, very close friend group. It was the perfect way to get people to back off so you wouldn’t have to deal with them in their first place. You also found some fun in seeing people run from you from your presents alone, made you feel like some cartoon super villain which you found quite amusing.
· The second reason… You had always told your boyfriend the first one, but to his confusion, you’d always avoid telling him the other reason. Nagito knew you’d had to have your reasons for not telling him, but… well you were his partner, of course he was going to worry a little even if it seemed you knew what you were doing.
· But he could ignore it no longer when you took the blame for him. Nagito came up with a plan to blow up a building, forcing the exams to be delayed so his classmates could have more time to prepare for them… and you took for the blame for it, being expelled for a time, but not forever. You couldn’t even stay on your dorm on campus, winding up staying in some cheap hotel paid by the school.
· “Why did you do it?” “Eh, Nagito?” “WHY! Why did you take the blame for me!? I was trying to get you more time so you could show off in glory, but now you’re stuck here. Why did you do it?” Nagito was always so calm and composed, likely from facing disaster after disaster caused by his bad luck, but he was actually troubled, he was upset, but not even at himself like he always did thinking himself trash, no, he was legitimately upset with you. “… Normally people greet their partner with a ‘hello’ or something.” The last thing you were expected to be greeted by your first morning exiled from school was your boyfriend in such a state. “I- No. Y/N, tell me, why?” “… I…” You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, this new side you had never even thought existed, yet you also couldn’t bear to look at him either so instead you looked to his feet. “I don’t want to lie to you, but… I don’t want to tell you the truth either. But! What I can tell you, is that this is fine, I chose this, I wanted this. So, you don’t have to worry about me, this just means I have even more time to develop my talent.” You tried giving him a smile, but it just ended up strained seeing that didn’t placate him. W-why? He always saw everything ultimates did was amazing and respected even the worst of decisions, yet… he was mad, and sad, and so many other things you couldn’t pinpoint not being able to bring yourself to study his expression for long.
· “No, this is not fine. What you did is not helping you. This is only a detriment. I-I-I, I just can’t understand! I can’t understand why. How did this turn out so wrong?” “… the other reason.” “Huh?” You spoke so quietly, it was but a whisper, Nagito had just barely caught it. “The other reason… It’s why I NEED a bad reputation, not just something I want for the fun of it.” You sighed, preparing for the inevitable Nagito calling himself trash and you trying to comfort him song and dance. “You’re such a volatile wild card. I never know what you’ll do next. Nagito, you literally tried to blow up a building with people inside, I know your luck probably would have saved them or something or you assumed the ultimates inside would save the day, but… that’s not healthy! You’ve been through so much and need help. I, I want to help you, but I just don’t know what to do. So… to me, the best I can do is try to protect you.” Even as his eyes widened, realizing what happened, you continued. “With a bad reputation, rumors of all sorts, both extreme and little, it can be expected that I can do anything without it being out of character. I can take on anyone’s bad actions and call it my own and all will believe it… Even if I can’t protect you from the insanity that is our life, the very least I can do is protect you from yourself, the consequences of your actions. I can’t get you to at last see yourself as decent, I can’t stop your luck from torturing you, this… this is all I can think of for what I could ever do for you… it’s the only kind of affection I can give without you saying or thinking you’re unworthy of it… though I guess I don’t even have that now, but… I don’t know, maybe this was-”
· …
· He hugged you. He didn’t know what to say. He took in everything you said, yet his mind was just blank. He had so much to say, yet he just could… All he could do was just nuzzle into you, one who was just so sweet and kind, and… he needed to better for you, Nagito at least new that for sure.
Imposter:
· Imposter wondered how they ever were lucky enough to find a partner like you. They never thought they’d find anyone who could get them to see themselves as a person even without the disguises, let alone a whole class at one point. Yes, they still disguised themselves, but when they were just with you they felt okay to not keep the make-up, wigs and costumes. They were just… whoever they were without being someone else. Their own identity was something they still struggled with but working on it with your helped.
· Individuals who could stay true to themselves no matter what were people they respected highly, that was probably what got them to fall for you in the first place. No matter who avoided you, the children who cried from seeing your large, buff figure, no matter the sports nuts who insisted on you joining their team, you always were the shy Super High School Level Flower Shop Keep who loved exercising.
· When they first met you, they were masquerading as Beyakuya Togami, not exactly the most sociable of personalities, so they thought they scared you away. When first meeting a person you didn’t speak much, instead you’d gift flowers and spoke through flower language. “Oh, well… there’s a lot you can say with flowers. I’ve just always liked them. I just like being outside, so I exercise a lot! But then I got toned, and already being on the bulkier side some people find me scary… Ah, but if I give the children flowers, they usually stop crying… unless a bee comes by, then they cry again.” Even though you were so soft spoken when you did speak, it was still rather intimidating. There was just so much power in it.
· They rather enjoyed how you’d decorate them with your beloved plants, whether it be placing them behind their ear, in their hair, or in their breast pocket. They also adored each bouquet you gave. Very quickly their whole dorm room smelled of fast-food and a light floral perfume. They pressed and kept every last flower, preserving them all even the ones from when you first met.
· You were so open and honest, even though you tried hiding it they knew when you had a crush on them- or well Beyakuya… They had no identity outside of whoever they were impersonating, but… the thought made their heart ache. So, when you came up to them with giant bouquet filled with tulips, purple roses, red roses, alstroemerias, and baby’s breath they could easily see even as you hid it behind your back, a bright blush on your cheeks, they knew what was happening, and rejected you before you could give them the flowers and confess. You hugged the bouquet close as they explained their situation, and even after, you still held out the flowers to them. “So, your identity is more complex than I knew, but all our time together still happened. And if you change identities, it’ll be like a change in color. Definitely different, even changing the meaning, but the base is still the same, you’ll still remember our time together even as someone else.” And since that moment, no matter what came, you never left them.
Gundham Tanaka:
· The moment Gundham met the Super High School Level Vet, Gundham fell head over heels for them. They were an intimidating, brutish, scarred from battles past, every last feature was terrifying, their features sharp, everything about them commanded the respect of all, even getting his Dark Devas to be weary of them at first sight.
· Caring for animals was a tricky job, it often involved getting scratches and bites, but you also needed to be patient and kind. You needed to be respected but also not appear hostile. A balance you embodied, looking fierce, yet you were so gentle and sensitive to others around you.
· The pair of you always spent time looking after his many animals, tending to any injuries or illnesses they possibly could have gotten.
· You also tended to Gundham Tanaka himself, much to his flustered, blushing protest. “I have no such injures of which you speak!” “Tanaka, you can’t even hold a pencil you hand is hurting so bad. Please let me at least look at it.” He kept refusing till some students came by asking if he were alright, fearing the scary looking person who kept looming around him all day. “Pathetic! Of such a low level you can’t even decern one’s true nature!” Then he stomped off till finally he found you. “My Emperor!” “Hey Tana-” “I seek thy aid, for only one of your caliber could even remotely stand a chance of resisting my poisoned skin, let alone tent to the curse that plagues this mortal form!” You just silently stared at him for a moment before you started fussing over him, clutching his jacket since you wanted to hug him. “What happened!? Did it get worse!? Tell me EVERYTHING about how you feel! Do you think it’s infected!? How does it hurt!? Does it sting or burn, or what!?” Gundham himself began to panic, unsure as to how to calm and put you at ease, never before seeing you worried to the point of tears forming in the corners of your eyes! However, you did quickly settle down, getting serious tending to his wound…
· And even as you did so, you avoided touching him. If you needed to apply ointment, you’d use a q-tip, you’d do anything you could to not touch him… Even you tending to him sent his heart racing, showing vulnerability, he was used to giving the care, not the other way around. He felt vulnerable in a way, he showed you he was hurting, but you were so gentle with him, so aware of him, even stopping and giving him a moment to pause and collect himself.
· Someone so attentive and understanding… He groaned, embarrassed at how giddy, and excited, and nervous even the mere thought of you made him.
Kazuichi Soda:
· He was terrified of you at first, even going so far as to actively avoid you. But then he met you. The moment he did so he was so confused as to how he found you scary? After actually taking to you, he found you, looks and all so adorable! He’d gush to anyone and everyone about how kind and amazing and sweet you were. He’d defend you to the death if a person even made the smallest negative comment about you, much to your complete embarrassment.
· After becoming your boyfriend Kazuichi would always hang around you, cooing over everything that was you, shattering any intimidating precents you had with the man hugging your arm, speaking in such a sickeningly sweet tone with sparkling eyes.
· Feeling like the world was against you, Kazuichi spent all his time with you to make up for it. No matter how many times you told him he didn’t have to he insisted on giving you all the affection you so rightly deserve!
· When you weren’t embarrassed by the man’s antics you’d be just as affectionate in return. As he tinkered on whatever you’d hug him from behind, sighing, and nuzzling into the nape of his neck, tickling him, distracting him from his work. He’d giggle, giddy out of his mind at having someone so sweet and adorable love him almost as much as he loved you!
· If Kazuichi caught even one person giving you a funny look, he’d just hug and snuggle you with a pout, glaring at others.
· “Kazu, you don’t have to defend me from everyone. I know I’m not exactly the most approachable looking.” “What!? No! You are gorgeous! Adorable! Beautiful! Don’t self-deprecate yourself!” “I’m not, I just… I know you’re affectionate, but you don’t have to be so protective, I appreciate it, but you don’t have to do this every time. I just want you to enjoy yourself not feel like you have to be my knight in shining armor or something.” “Well, I can’t enjoy myself if others are being jerks!” Kazuichi would never admit it to you, but he felt guilty. He knew what it was like to be bullied, for others to make comments. He also felt guilty for judging you so much before meeting you. he was once scared with a person he instantly fell in love with after finally talking to them. He just wanted to make up for that, he wanted to say he was sorry… And feeling you hug him, thank him for being your knight, he was reminded all over why he loved such a sweet person so much, and he was determined to give you all the love he could to make up from being so cruel before.
Teruteru Hanamura: part 1
· Teru had a rather interesting relationship with the new delivery person. You weren’t mean, but your whole aura was rather intimidating with your cold demeanor and with how muscular you were. Yet of all people, you were warm and kind to him. You merrily chat about your day, or about anything. You’d get a laugh out of his flirting, even try and miserably fail at flirting back, something Teru found endlessly endearing. Whatever made Teru special he honestly didn’t care, just enjoying your company so much.
· After your hard work, well hard for most but for you it was just seemingly light stretches, Teru would cook a hearty meal for you to keep you going for the rest of the day! It was his favorite thing to do before opening the restaurant, just that single quiet moment of enjoying a meal with you.
· Teru could find something attractive about anyone, but with you… well you were certainly attractive, a stallion, a ten out of ten to him, but he found he so quickly grew feelings for you. True a person’s personality or voice could be sexy but there was something different about it with you. But whatever it was, didn’t matter to him, all he knew was that he just wanted to spend more time with you, and whatever you did together didn’t matter to him, as long as you were together.
· You sighed, taking another bite. “Is something the matter?” “I’m just going to miss this.” “What?” You didn’t even glance his way, simply continuing to enjoy your meal. “Yeah, I gotta move soon. I’ve actually stayed here much longer than I should, but… I just couldn’t resist sticking around longer ‘cause of you… again.” “Ah, well… that’s too bad. It’s been rather fun having you around.” “It’ll be alright. I know you’ll be fine without me. Actually, I’d like to ask you to make a promise to forget me.” “Forget you!? How in tarn- AH I- Ahem- How could I do that!?” You simply smiled and laughed, just as you did before. You placed a hand on his cheek, gently caressing him with your thumb. “You’re the only person I can call a friend. I know you can keep this promise, that’s just the kind of person you are. Sure, you’re a bit raunchy, but you truly are kind and care for others. You could never let me feel guilty about leaving you behind.” Teru was silent for a moment, just taking in what you said. “When will you be leaving?” “Uh… I should say tomorrow, but I’m thinking a week.” A week? Teru could work with that!
· “Please go on a date with me!” “… Huh?” In complete bafflement you just let Teruteru take your hands into his, a determined glint in his eyes. “If you’ll be leaving I want to make the most of the time we have left!” “…oh… uh… o-okay, we could do that.”
· And so, the week was filled with date after date, going all out with no inhibitions doing anything you could think of from watching a movie to sky diving. Wherever you went Teru always had a packed meal on hand for the pair of you to enjoy. It was honestly the best week of either of your lives. And all too quickly it had already passed you by.
· Standing on the bridge in the park you stood side by side watching the sun rise. “Well, that’s it, I better get going. I really enjoyed this, just as always. Thank you.” “Now hold on a moment, you can’t go just yet!” He held out a small plastic container to you. “You need a good meal for the road! Don’t know where you’re going, but wherever it is, it’d be a downright shame if I left you hungry along the way!” You simply stared at him for a moment before the softest, most earnest of smiles he had ever seen creased your lips. So tenderly you took the container. “… Some things never change I suppose… At least I know you can still keep that promise.” Then without so much as explaining your strange words, you disappeared as if you never even were there. It was sad for Teru, yet something in him knew he’d see you again, and that thought let him go back to his everyday life as if you never appeared, yet after that life just seemed more lively to him, just like those later years back in Hope’s Peak, though as to why that time seemed livelier he couldn’t quite remember.
Nekomaru Nidai:
· Being a rather intimidating looking guy with a heart of gold, Nekomaru took to understanding your situation quickly. Both of you being athletic and getting rather larger builds it just kinda naturally happened.
· Being the exceedingly kind individual you were others often took advantage of that. Even if you knew it was bad you couldn’t bring yourself to not help others in need for even the smallest of things. This was not something Nekomaru could stand, but finding you standing out in the rain for two days straight was the last straw and the man insisted on training you! You were a bit nervous at first not wanting to take up so much of your best friend’s time, but with some reassurances Nekomaru managed to warm you up, both literally and metaphorically to the training.
· At some point the training turned into days out, going hiking up mountains, or jogging on beaches, swimming in lakes and doing crossfit, sometimes going out for walks in the night, exploring the city looking for things to do, perhaps some karaoke, some slow dancing by moon light, and yeah you two just ended up dating without meaning too.
· The pair of you always came up with excuses like the slow dancing was training in balance, no you totally did not want to dance because it was a beautiful night and you could hear ballroom music not far in the distance, no that was totally not it, that’d be dumb… or so you kept telling yourself in these moments so you would not confess to the man fearing he really did only see these outings as training and nothing else.
· That was till you overheard Nekomaru chatting with his classmates, one of them asking how his ‘date’ with you went and he spoke of your beautiful hike up the mountains, not even batting an eye at their wording. Did… did he not notice, or just not care? Did this mean he liked you too? Or did you mishear? Quickly getting frustrated with this line of thinking you decided to just settle this!
· “There you are-” “I have something to tell you!” The man silently stood there, just waiting. Okay, this was it, and you took a deep breath. “I… I REALLY LIKE YOU!” “I REALLY LIKE YOU TOO! YOU ARE A CHERISHED FRIEND OF MINE!” “NO, I MEAN- I-I-I LOVE YOU, I THINK!? I DON’T KNOW!” “I LOVE YOU TOO, A LOT IN FACT!” “N-NOT AS MUCH AS I LOVE YOU!” “OH YEAH!?” “YES! SO MUCH!”
· Screaming your feelings for one another was a very common occurrence in the relationship. Even if one of you simply caught sight of the other off in the distance you’d yell ‘I love you’s, which more often than not scared or startled the people around you hearing such loud, booming voices out of nowhere.
· Life with Nekomaru could be a bit much at times, but it was well worth it for such an amazing guy.
Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu:
· You were perfect for him.
· You didn’t have any reputation really, but wherever you went people knew not to mess with you. Your mere presents not much but if one got close, they could feel this unsettling air about you making them go away. You, being the Super High School Level Street Fighter knew how to defend yourself from most attackers so Fuyuhiko didn’t have to worry about your safety like he’d have to with most others like the majority of his old classmates like Hajime.
· You were also the most kind and sweet person he had met. Behind closed doors you’d always have you arms open for Fuyuhiko. You’d hold him close, just let him listen to your steady heartbeat and make him feel so safe and secure. His favorite thing was to just cuddle with you.
· He also liked you being by his side, it served a dual purpose. One: if somehow when meeting some rival gang his reputation didn’t precede him, you were enough to intimidate them at a glance, despite his own baby face. The second and much more important to him, just being with you. True you were well equipped to handle yourself, but you were still human can had come back home to him plenty of times with new scars not from your usual fights, so by your side he and Peko could protect you.
· He also liked how you were with his subordinates. You were strict, showing no signs of weakness, more than willing to put them in their place should it be needed, yet that didn’t stop you from being kind. You’d do research for days on end trying to find the perfect birthday gift them. You’d train their kids by hand in all ways of fighting, but not for attacking but self-defense, their parents were in a dangerous job so your ‘day job’ of being a children’s fighting instructor helped to place their minds at ease a little.
· If he could he’d go on for hours singing your praises. You were perfect for him in every single way without a single doubt.
#hajime hinata#izuru kamukura#nagito komaeda#imposter#gundham tanaka#kazuichi soda#teruteru hanamura#nekomaru nidai#fuyuhiko kuzuryu#hajime x reader#izuru x reader#nagito x reader#imposter x reader#gundham x reader#kazuichi x reader#teruteru x reader#nekomaru x reader#fuyuhiko x reader#Mod Gundham#danganronpa#Super Danganronpa 2#danganronpa 2#danganronpa2#danganronpa imagine#danganronpa imagines#danganronpa 2 imagine#danganronpa 2 imagines#dr imagine#dr imagines#dr 2 imagine
780 notes
·
View notes
Text
Looking Up at Us [Submission]
'Looking Up at Us
|*| DISCLAIMERS: Hello! It me! This is my first fic ever. Uhhh, Giorno’s a giant dick and Narancia’s an angel (literally and figuratively :] ) So yandere-ish themes, manipulation, and other mean things. This is a three-year span after the events of VA. |*|'
I APPLAUD YOU ON YOUR FIRST FIC ANON!!! This one really hit me right in the feels :'') Honestly you wrote Giorno so well because I literally wanted to strangle him!! He reminds me so much of Dio here and I fucking love it. I can't believe he stole their song ;a; OP outlined the yandere and manipulation content warnings, but there is also some major character death! Please be warned!
“Hey, when we get married let’s use that Aerosmith song.”
Narancia laughed as the smaller of the two let out an embarrassed squeal and tried burying her head deeper into his neck. They laid together on his bed in his rather untidy room talking about anything and everything that crossed their minds. But he was always so brash, and making her red was a favorite pastime of his. “Duuude, don’t even joke about that!’” she giggled, “We’re, still, ya know teens,” she emphasized that by flicking her hand around. He continued laughing, tightened his grip on her, and kissed the top of her head. Even if he was teasing the poor girl, he always meant what he said.
“You’d look really pretty in this dress I saw the other day. It wasn’t long as shit like those rich people…” Narancia slowly trailed off realizing she wasn’t responding. When he looked down at her, he saw she wasn’t smiling anymore and looked lost in her own thoughts. He wiggled away from her a little to look at her properly and softly called her name. “Hey, you good?”
“Promise me you’ll stay,” she looked at him earnestly and caught the poor boy off guard. What was going through that busy head of hers? He was speechless and for a moment he gawked at her. The frenzied teen then added with intensity, “You better stay with me forever and ever and and- I don’t- just… please..” And it finally clicked what she meant, and he gave her his biggest smile.
“Don’t worry, miele! You’re gonna have to deal with me for a while,” he chimed as he pulled her closer and gave her another peck to her forehead. She looked up at him with watery eyes and smile, “I’d love nothing more. Just promise me, please?
He leaned lower to kiss her softly on the lips. They both knew that was an impossible promise but still, “I’ll try my best.” He snuggled back up to her and they both slowly sunk back into the previous loving tranquility. They’ll both try, but mafia life was so unpredictable, but it’ll be worth the try if they could stay together.
“So, what are we gonna name our first kid?”
“Narancia Ghirga!!”
“Yeah, Mrs. Ghirga?” Narancia couldn’t stop laughing even as he was shoved off the bed.
Three months. It’s been three months, but his voice still rings in her head. His goofy smile, bubbly laughter, his smothering hugs were all nothing but distant memories that no longer warmed her, but instead chilled her core. Their places where they caused mischief and held impromptu dates only held ghosts of what was and what could have been. These thoughts haunted her every waking moment. Even when she slept, they caused nothing but sweet dreams that left her bitter and empty in the morning. But Narancia wasn’t the only one she missed dearly. Finding Abbacchio in the state he was and running back full of hope to the colosseum only to find out Bruno was the final victim. But thanks to him, they find out he was actually the first. Giorno had admitted after their discovery that they had been travelling with a reanimated corpse. At the time her, Mista, Trish, were too busy crying to even care.
For the new Don’s first year, she was present. When Fugo returned, she welcomed him with open arms. She stayed for as long as could but looking at Giorno mad her sick. Violence and anger grew inside by just being around him and his voice made her gag. Staying there brought her closer to the edge as she struggled between collapsing into tears or killing her Don in a fiery fit. That’s when she distanced herself from everyone. Of course, it worried Fugo and Mista to death when the last surviving member of their gang suddenly went off the radar. Even if it was for the wellbeing of everyone there, it didn’t sit right with anyone. Especially Giorno Giovanna.
The two-year absence was hell, for her anyways. At first jobs would take her resumes and interviews, but soon they would turn her away at sight of her face or sound of her voice. Her temporary apartment kicked her out and hotels refused service to the point she was forced to either stay in motels or rent somewhere for a while until they too kicked her out. When people started to whisper and gossip as she passed by, that was the final straw. It was lonely. It was frustrating! Was it because of the mafia association? No, that should guarantee a decent job and place to stay. And then it clicked. The root of her problems lies at the head of Passione.
So, here the young woman stood in front of him, arms wrapped securely around herself, as Mista stood watching them at the closed entrance. Giorno’s grown, nearly six feet and obviously physically stronger than before. She squeezed tighter hoping to mimic Narancia’s hugs as she tried to gather her courage and find the words. For a while it was suffocating silence as no one dared to speak first. They were both strategizing, planning how to attack and counter the other’s words. But finally, the devil’s replacement spoke, “Hello, tersoro. I’m glad to see you’re-“
“Cut the crap. I know what’re you doing. Stop it.” And with that she turned to leave. Mista stepped out the way to let her go until a soft laugh stopped her, “Are you still torn up about them? Really?” She stopped and slowly turned to face him. She finally snapped.
“Are you serious?” She spat at him. “Why wouldn’t I be upset that you killed my friends? My family?!”
“The love of your life?” She glared at the blonde as he had the audacity the smile at the thought of their deaths. In that moment, she wanted to kill him. Her stand was at the ready. Mista didn’t even attempt to reach for his gun as he knew she wouldn’t do something stupid like that, but he, too, thought of shooting Giorno as well. Giorno tsked and slowly walked around his desk to lean against the front of it, showing just how little her threat meant to him. “My dear, you don’t understand. They were steppingstones to help change Passione for the greater good.”
“Steppingstones?! Don’t act like their bodies were your path to “greatness”! What exactly have you fixed, huh? There are SEVEN more assassin squads. You haven’t stopped drugs like you promised Bruno. Instead, you’ve barely stopped selling it kids ten and under! Don’t act like they were your sacrifices!” The rage burned inside her, and she could no longer control her words. “Why did they have to go to heaven, huh?! They deserve to be here, not you! Bruno should be where you are! Leone should’ve left you die! Narancia should be back in school! It’s all your FAULT!” They both lunged at Giorno only for GER to grab the opposing stand and for Giorno to effortlessly grabbed her fist. One arm wrapped firmly around her waist and the other then swooped in and tilted her head up to kiss her ever so softly.
“My, my such a temper,” he murmured, “I’ve always loved that about you.” In that moment all the fire that was built up for years turned ice cold, as fear gripped her insides. She wasn’t expecting this strength. Wide eyes stared up into the unnatural turquoise of his. He slowly turned her head from side to side, as if examining her. “You poor thing. You look so tired and overworked,” and she was. “I bet those horrible businesses could see it on you. Turned you away like street trash. Poor, poor thing.” The young woman’s voice had left her as she tried to process everything. Just what was he planning?
“D-Don’t act like you didn’t do all that crap to me” She hated the sudden stutter in her voice but was thankful words even came out. The young woman started fighting in his grip which caused him to tighten. “Let me go! What was that kiss?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” But she was only met with a chuckle. As he spun her around and pressed her back against his chest. “My dear, I was only trying to bring back what was mine. Tesoro, mia. So independent. We’ll have to break that.” She fought harder and let out a cry of pain as Giorno dug his fingernails in the meat of her cheeks, getting annoyed at her fighting spirit.
“Now, I want you to listen to listen to me. I really don’t want to repeat myself,” he nipped her neck, “nor do I want to hurt more than I should.” Giorno leaned closer and whispered, “You’re mine. I’ve loved you for too long to let you get away and whore around like you did with him.” He shoved her to the ground and held her there with his foot, pressing harder with every squirm. “Go against me, and your little angelo will be dug up, burned, and flushed down a portable. Or maybe I’ll finish off the rest of your gang.” She struggled to look up at him as he glared down at her. His mouth quirked into a smirk as he spoke again, “Whose to say mafioso even go to heaven, hm? My sweet, delusional darling.” Giorno dropped to the floor and scooped her up in his arms again hugging her tightly. She was too scared to fight back. Not knowing what would set him off. He quietly laughs at how broken the poor woman was. So easy to break in already.
“Let me take care you. Love you. Cherish you like you deserve. You’ll learn to love me.” He gripped her arms in a bruising grasp and whispered dangerously smooth, “Or you’ll die trying.”
___________________________________________
Her wedding gown shimmered and swayed gently as she and her new husband made their way to the center of the dance floor. Each step weighted heavy on her heart as the gravity of it all grew. Their movements were calculated and coordinated, just like everything else because it was all artificial for her. There was no true love, no true feelings in this forced arrangement. No more fight in her dull eyes that refused to make eye contact with anyone because then they would see just how much he’s broken her in just a year. One wrong move will surely be the one she’ll ever make.
No one in the ballroom could see the despair ripping away whatever dignity was left as she wrapped her arms around his neck or the bile she choked back as he greedily slipped his arms around her waist. If only she could keep tightening her arms like a noose until he was no more but a horrid memory. The room was filled with ‘awws’ and loving gazes as the couple settled gracefully into the position they had practiced many a times before. She finally turned her emotionless gaze to him. Giorno Giovanna chuckled at her. His new wife was so dramatic.
“And now the newly weds will share their first dance together!” someone, who she didn’t care enough to learn their name, announced as if he was getting paid on his excitement and not on the fact if he squealed, he gets killed. She closed her eyes as the crowd cheered, swallowed her sickness, and sighed. She made it this long without throwing up or crying, she can get through this dance.
“The groom has picked this song out specifically for his new, beautiful wife. Isn’t that romantic?” The crowd cheered and clapped in blissful ignorance at the display of affection. The bride’s eyes snapped open at this new revelation and stared in shock at Giorno who only smiled. But when the music began, her heart finally burst. Tears welled and spilled freely down her cheeks as that Aerosmith song, their song, played and she was forced to move to its now bittersweet beat. Giorno’s wife shakily looked up at him and chocked on her tears. Once again, chuckled and lean in to whisper with honeyed venom his final victory,
“Oh miele, I bet he’s looking up at us right now, amore mio.”
(OK Tumblr formatting is weird but I wanna add: Yes it Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing that Narancia and darling picked as their first dance which Girono stole. And Narancia was the only one allowed to call darling Miele as an inside joke for “Honey! I’m Home”. Also WHY WAS THIS 2K+???)
#god im still in awe of this#so freakin good#narancia ghirga x reader#giorno giovanna x reader#cw yandere#cw major character death#submission#not mine#jjba#not sfw#suggestive
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
x메신저를 쏘지 마십시오x
previous chapter
Sungchan
Jeno broke roughly in the middle of the barren road. "What?" His eyes were squinted in anger, yet, still focused on the paved road in front of him. A thud was heard as Jisung's body fell to the floor of the van. "What the hell was that fo-" I had no time to think as Jeno's fist was looped around my collar, pulling me closer to his face.
"Look me in the eyes," he demanded, "and say that shit one more time." his lips were curled into a sinister look as the whole car took on a new atmosphere.
"Yuta. He gave Taeyong the idea to sell Neo Culture." I said in a pseudo-confident persona. A new face was added to the huddle as Jisung now stared me down like I was the enemy.
Jeno's hands reached for my stomach, the handcuffs I was provided now laying around the headrest and my wrist in a matter of seconds.
"Wai-" I tried to fight it, "Ji-" "Already on it." Jisung's hand cocked a gun and now aimed it right in-between my eyes. The cool metal sent a shiver down my spine as I was saying my final blessings.
"Start. Talking." New confidence found Jisung as he had lost all time and patience for anyone's bullshit.
"Yuta. He had met with Taeyong when Seven Stars had first started getting stronger. 2 years ago." I answered and I could tell Jeno was taking mental notes. "Yuta had given the idea that in order to avoid conflict-- maybe we should sell ourselves to them." I took a deep breath, "if you can't beat them-- join them, am I right?" I laughed but their stone-cold demeanor left them unfazed. "Tough crowd, okay, uh-" "no time for jokes, Sungchan." Jeno reminded and I shook my head trying to let any happiness shake away from my body, "you're right. Sorry." I nodded.
"Well, once we would've been apart of Seven Stars we would've taken them down from the inside. Ultimately 'en-slaving' them-" "Don't use that word." Jisung shook his head sadly, "we're not that type of people." Jisung released the round into his hand and putting the gun by his leg, hand running through his messy hair.
I looked to Jeno and he only had hurt in his eyes-- no more anger. "But, we just sat back and let it happen to us." Jeno sighed, pulling the car to the side of the road so we were out of the middle of it. He had removed the keys and set them in the cup-holder.
"Well. Supposedly, Taeyong had thought it was a great idea. Yuta was the one that pulled out of it first." I explained, remembering the things I had witnessed first-hand. "Yuta thought of the outlier outcomes: What if it doesn't go as planned and we get hurt, en-slaved-" Jisung's head snapped up to me and gave me a look that wasn't short of 'killer', "sorry. Or getting split up." I motioned my head around to draw attention to our current situation.
"Then?" Jeno asked lowly, staring at the steering wheel lost in thought. "Then Taeyong couldn't be talked down. It was all supposed to happen the night that you all were captured in the warehouse." That had caught Jeno's attention. "The one where-" "where Taeyong missed the biggest outlier of them all." I nodded my head. "Mark."
It was if Jeno was frozen in time. "That's why Taeyong was so pissed. Mark had forfeited the peaceful surrender of the family." I pieced it together for Jisung who sat behind us in a state of disbelief. "That's the reason they both told the rest of the family to not come and save them no matter what happened." I continued, "He knew that you all were too strong-headed to listen to order at least 48 hours after they hadn't come home. Essentially-" "letting us walk into a trap once we did show up." Jeno got excited as he was finally piecing everything together.
"Seven Stars didn't expect you all to come there guns blazing. You had set up a rescue mission that translated into a death sentence for your leader." I stated the obvious at this point.
"What else do you know?" Jeno's head lolled to the side, his eyes staring up at me through his eyelashes. "...everything..." I smiled and he grabbed the seat rest and pulled it up, essentially releasing me from the close-proximity holder.
“You let me tell you the whole story of the mission-gone-wrong when you actually knew the whole time?” Jeno asked me with a disgusted look where I could only shrug, “it was nice seeing your point of view.” I smiled as he scoffed and looked out of the window, his gaze falling to his steering wheel.
I just there silently, waiting for anything to happen really: Questions, anger, tears, a gun being put to my head...anything.
I looked to Jeno was still lost in thought as he was staring at the steering wheel. I looked back to Jisung who just sat in defeat...no life in his face. "What's wrong, Jisung?" I asked quietly, "I'm..." he was trying to form a sentence that got the attention of Jeno in the front seat, who ultimately turned around to look at his younger friend, "I'm angry." Jisung nodded...very nonchalantly. "You have every right to be-" "That asshole took everything from us." His hands were balled in fists by his lap, "He took my family from me." Jisung seethed in a fit of quiet anger.
"My best friends flung themselves from a building because of that-" he shook his head, breaths getting faster, "that," he continued, "Jisung it's okay to be angry." Jeno reinstated, "That selfish fucking prick." Jisung said calmly, tears pricking the sides of his eyes.
"Jwi, we talked about this. If you keep substituting anger with sadness then you won't be able to control yourself when you finally let the anger go." Jeno sighed as only a few tears fell from Jisung's onyx-like eyes.
Jisung didn't say anything as he only crawled back to the blanket that abstractly laid on the floor near the back doors. "Can we just go?" Jisung mumbled, wrapping himself in the blanket and leaned against the back door so he could look back on what he was leaving behind, "I want Mark and y/n, now."
"Of course." Jeno started the vehicle once more and pulled back onto the barren roads. I looked back to see Jisung silently struggling to keep his cries quiet.
We drove for what felt like ever through farmland. "I need to get gas," Jeno instructed and pulled over to the nearest gas station. He got out after checking on Jisung through the rearview mirror-- hasn't changed positions from against the back door.
I made the older-brother decision to maneuver myself to the back of the van, sitting across from Jisung who had a dead-set gaze out of the window.
"Are you okay, Jisung-ah?" I asked calmly and I could see his eyes roll. "I'm so tired of people asking me that." He confessed and repositioned himself so he was farther away from me. "It's because we care-" "Don't you dare tell me you care," Jisung sat up quickly, our eyes being on the same level, "you were one of the main people who put me through pain in that damn base," Jisung pointed his finger in my face. "You were the one who walked me to the b-" I watched in pain as Jisung's lip started to quiver, his eyes holding hatred.
"-to the buyers." he choked out, tears shooting out of both eyes. Guilt settled in my chest as I couldn't look him in his eyes, "You did bad and good to us all. Now-now that you reveal yourself, we're supp-supposed to fall to your-your feet like you're a fucking god?" Jisung was letting his anger seep out in the cold hard truth, "I love you because you're family." He continued, wrapping himself into his blanket, setting himself into the corner, "but that doesn't mean I have to like you." he deadpanned and I had to accept this as the truth...because it was.
I looked over to my bag that sat behind my seat. I grabbed it and pulled it into my lap. "I--" I blinked, the wetness of my own eyes taking me off-guard. "I brought some snacks and some drinks." I pulled some out and set it next to his crumpled up frame, "I also have your glasses and anxiety medication." I held it out as he forcefully snatched it from my hands, "probably put rat pellets in it." I heard him mutter to himself, yet, I let it slide-- he was hurting and just had a bombshell of information dumped on him moments before. He was drowning in his own thoughts.
"I also heard you like rock music. So I've been downloading music for the past couple of months to show you- I also have earbuds if you wanted to listen privately. If not, I can play it on an auxiliary cord-" "Jeno hates rock music." Jisung cut me off, but looked at me for a moment. Well...looking at the phone. I knew he wanted it but didn't want to eat from the hand of the newly-ruled out "enemy".
"I'll just leave it here if you want it. The phone is yours, actually. The passcode is 2002."
I set it next to the juice I had gotten for him, "and the earbuds are right next to it." I quickly placed them and left back to my seat just in time for Jeno to come back in and take his own place behind the wheel.
"Next stop-- Mark's and y/n's." Jeno was smiling again. Even if he just found out that his power-hungry leader was going to sell him, he's still excited to see his best friend, his brother.
I looked back to see Jisung scrolling through the phone with the earbuds shoved in his ears. Rhythmic foot taps had Jeno curious as he was trying to see what his younger friend was doing. He had caught a glimpse of the phone and looked to me, "It's his. I had gotten him some rock music to listen to." I said and Jeno apprehensively nodded as he shifted the car into drive, "thanks, Sungchan." He looked back to see Jisung smiling in what felt like forever. He was going to let Jisung have his music...it's the least he could have.
~~~ It was way past 12 am when we rolled up to the farmhouse where Mark and y/n had been staying...even Donghyuck was in there...but I wasn't going to tell them I knew that. They would've kicked me out of the car miles ago. They would have to find out for themselves.
"Here, you stay in here and we'll go in and..." Jeno was so smiley to realize he looked like a mess. Tousled blonde hair and a blood-splattered face from hours before. I didn't want to be the one to kill his vibe though.
"Go get 'em." I smiled and they both hopped out of the van and met in front where they talked for a moment before pulling out their guns and running in different directions towards the house.
I watched with a smile as I pulled out my own phone, pulling up the familiar contact and pressing 'call'. The ringing in my ear calmed my nerves as the receiver was picked up. "Hello."
"Commence phase 3 of the plan. Tell Yuta that they were delivered safely and to get the rest of the neo-cultures to the head base." I smiled as I could hear Shotaro's excitement over the phone.
"Will do. Talk to you soon."
And with that, I was alone.
#nct sungchan#Park Jisung#jung sungchan#nct u sungchan#nct jisung#nct jisung angst#nct jeno#jeno lee#jisung pwark#kpop mafia#kpop angst#nct mafia au#nct mafia fic#nct x reader#nct angst#jisung angst#mark lee#lee donghyuck#nct mafia#nct mafia angst#osaki shotaro#nct shotaro#nct taeyong#lee taeyong#nct yuta nakamoto#nakamoto yuta
130 notes
·
View notes
Text
My Roommate is an Apparition: An Apparition A-Pink-ciation of Culture
Based on characters created by @reddpenn
From the diary of Lily:
------------
When I was little, I used to talk to my stuffed animals all the time. They were my soft, cuddly friends who were always there for me, and even though they never spoke a word, I always imagined I could hear what they wanted to say. Even as an adult, I still treat inanimate objects like they’re people too. In fact, everyone does at some point or another in their adult life. Anyone who has ever argued with their car that refused to start knows what I mean.
But recently, I realized that sometimes people can do... well the opposite. That sometimes we don’t treat people (who are actual, real people) like they’re people. It’s not something we consciously think about, but it’s more like we forget that, well, people are people. I know this sounds really dumb, but I felt like I needed to write about this after a... well after an “argument” I had with my roommate.
I’ve lived with my roommate for a few months now, and I thought I had gotten to know them pretty well. They like to watch cartoons (like, seriously LOVES them) and we had worked out a TV viewing schedule to make sure that we got along together. But the other day, I realized that I wasn’t necessarily treating them like they were their own person. I didn’t mean to do that, but it just kind of happened, and...
...well it gets really complicated because, technically, they aren’t a person.
I mean, they aren’t human; they’re an apparition.
It made me think about all those stories about monsters and ghosts. Like a ghost used to be human, but then they died, and their spirit became a ghost. Do we still treat the ghost like the person they were when they were alive? Outside of a few exceptions, the answer’s a definite yes.
But what about an apparition? It’s kind of like a ghost, but it’s not. I mean, it’s not the soul of someone who died or anything. They just sort of exist. (Would Slimer from Ghostbusters be an apparition or a ghost?).
------------
So anyway, reason I’m bringing this all up is because of what happened last weekend. I was channel surfing through the Cable Guide and as I’m flipping through, I pass by Boomerang (you know, the cable channel that spun-off Cartoon Network to hold all the older cartoons?) and all of a sudden, my roommate appears out of nowhere (literally) and practically grabs the remote out from my hands.
“Hey! What gives!?” I say to them.
They immediately change over to Boomerang and my TV screen is suddenly filled up with the color pink. At the same time, my roommate starts “doot-ing” along with the song and goes, “Doo-Doot! Doo-Doot! Do-Doot-Do-Doot-Do-Doot Do-Doot-De-Dooooooooo-Doo-Doo-Doo-Doo-Doooot”. I have no idea what they’re doing, but then the cartoon starts up and it’s the Pink Panther.
Rhetorically, I go, “What’s this?”
“Pink... Panther...” my roomie says.
And then I make my first mistake by saying, “Huh. Never seen it before.”
Now if I had been paying attention to them, I probably would have seen the face of shock they were making. “You... NEVER... saw it!?” They gasped.
“Nope. Must have been before my time,” which was totally true. I mean, I later found out my Dad used to watch it when he was a kid. It wasn’t on TV when I was growing up. (Why am I defending myself for not watching a specific cartoon?)
Anyway, roomie asks, “Watch... with me?”
And then I, being a total dumbass, say, “Nah. Think I’ll get some dishes in,” before getting up and walking away.
If I had stayed put for just a few seconds longer, I would have heard them asking, “...please?” (In case you’re wondering, they told me about that later.)
------------
Yes, I hurt its feelings. Yes, it was insensitive. Yes, I am sorry. But like I said, the thought didn’t even cross my mind back then. As far as I knew, as long as my roommate had their cartoons, they were happy. It didn’t occur to me that they cared about anything other than the cartoons themselves.
For the next week, my roommate made sure I knew, now and forever, that this was not true.
My first clue that they were mad at me was later that evening when I went to the living room to watch my usual shows. It was my turn on the TV, and usually I have to pry my roommate away so I can watch what I want to watch. But that night, the instant I walked into the room, they changed the channel to what I wanted, put the remote down on the couch, and left the room without saying a word. I thanked them, plopped myself down, and went straight into couch potato mode.
This should have thrown so many red flags in my head, but for some reason, it didn’t. Maybe I was being too self-absorbed at the time? Maybe I was just tired and thinking, “Aww man, I gotta work tomorrow!”? No matter the excuse, mistakes were made, and I started paying for them the very next morning.
My “haunting” kicked off with waking up to find most of my rock collection missing. I have a particular affinity for pretty rocks and gems (I’m kind of a rock nerd) and have my favorites out on display. But that morning, the only rocks that I could see were the pink ones. Someone had pilfered almost every pebble from every pedestal to perturb me. (I saw a chance for alliteration and took it! So sue me!) I was still waking up and too tired to care about it at the time (me making excuses again) and had work, so I got ready to go and left.
Now I’m not sure how they did it, but my roommate did something to my car radio. I turn it on and all I get are tunes by Henry Mancini. Fifty percent of the time, it was the Pink Panther theme, twenty-five percent was the theme from A Shot In The Dark (I had to use Soundhound to figure out that one), and the rest was a mix of some of his other work. It didn’t matter what station I tried changing it to! Although I did learn that Mancini composed Baby Elephant Walk, so that’s something.
By now, I’d already figured out what was going on (roommate did it), but couldn’t really do anything about it because I still had work to go to. As if the daily grind working at an art supply store wasn’t hard enough, I had to work while having the dang Pink Panther theme stuck in my head all day. Not even the music that played over the store radio could get rid of it. (Given the quote un-quote “music” they play over the speaker system, I eventually considered it a good thing.)
Then I came home, and that’s when things REALLY escalated. First words out of my mouth after I walked in was, “Hey, I’m hoooOOOOOLY~!” Every single wall in the apartment, from the living room, to the kitchen, to the bedroom, and even the bathroom...
PINK!
All of them were painted PINK!
Like strawberry frosted doughnut pink!
As I’m gawking at the interior design sugar rush nightmare, out walks my roommate from around the corner. Immediately, the first thing I noticed was that they had feet. (Normally, they don’t have feet; they just kind of “hover” or “emerge from the ground” or something.) They had their eyes closed, head held up, and made a point of showing off these noodle legs they had constructed by skipping every other three steps.
They were doing the Pink Panther shuffle.
They walk out of my line of sight and I run over to have a word with them, but by then they disappeared. I look around and all I see is more and more pink. From behind me, I hear a mix of snickering slash wheezing. Like you ever hear of this cartoon dog named Muttley? They were laughing like him. And of course, I turn around, and the only thing I see is more pink!
------------
I knew that my roommate could be ornery at times, like that time I tried to get an idea of their daily routine by setting up a webcam, but this...
I mean, where did she even get the paint? (Upon reading back here, I realized I referred to them as a ‘she’ even though I’m not sure if they are a ‘she’ or not. Yeah, I can edit it to a more neutral pronoun, but something tells me I ought to point this out instead of editing it, for some reason.)
I was half tempted to get back at them by painting the walls back to their original color (they do sell paint by the gallon where I work, and I get the employee discount), but realized they’d just paint(?) the walls pink again. Like I’d turn around after thinking I finished only to find the work I did completely undone. I could just picture my roommate doing that and finding it hysterical.
Anyway, tacky as the pink walls were, I didn’t get too angry about them. For starters, my lease agreement said that I couldn’t paint the walls without landlord approval. But my lease agreement also acknowledges that my apartment may be haunted. If the landlord ever brought it up, I’d just tell them the “ghost” did it. Second, these pranks my roommate was pulling were kind of amusing and didn’t really bother me that much. (I mean sure, I wanted my rock collection back but I doubted my roommate would have thrown them away. They know how much they mean to me.)
The one thing I was putting my foot down on was that I wasn’t going to ask my roommate what was wrong. I got the hint, sure, but I wanted them to know that if something is bothering them, they need to, y’know, actually say something instead of leaving spooky pink clues. They were being a butt, and my hope was that when they saw how much the pink wasn’t bothering me, then they’d finally open up. This went on for about a week with me going about my daily routine only to be surprised by the occasional pink interruption.
Like on Wednesday, I go to the fridge to get something to drink, and all I find in there is Pink Lemonade. It actually wasn’t that bad, but I have no idea how my roommate actually got it given that they never leave the apartment. Thursday, I get a notification saying a package arrived, and find my roommate used my debit card to order the entire Pink Panther cartoon series on DVD. And earlier on Tuesday, I got a call from my landlord asking if I knew why someone had called in an order, in their name, to have Owens Corning insulation installed. In case you weren’t aware, that’s the pink insulation who has “you can guess who” as their mascot.
------------
So, Friday rolls around, and by now, the entire apartment is pink. Like EVERYTHING. The furniture, the electronics, the toilet, the sink, the appliances, the TV, and everything in between has been made pink somehow. I’m not sure who out there still makes pink toilet paper, but apparently my roommate has either some special powers I don’t know about yet, or they got connections.
At this point, since my roommate had yet to approach me about “The Pink-ening”, I began playing the reverse-psychology card. I came home and got to making dinner. While some of this was a bit more expensive than what I usually spend on food, I figured it was worth it if it meant getting my roommate to talk to me. My menu included delicious smoked pink salmon, some crab linguine with a nice amount of pink to it for a side dish, and some mashed red potatoes that turn out nice and pink if you got the right recipe. To wash it down, I picked up a glass of pink lemonade from the fridge, and in the freezer, some strawberry sorbet.
I get down to eating at my pink table, with a pink wooden chair, pink napkins, pink silverware, pink glass of pink lemonade. It took a little more effort to put this together, but I made an exaggerated point of showing off how good this pink meal was and how much I was just enjoying all this pink.
About halfway into my meal, I get a feeling that someone’s standing behind me. It’s hard to put into words how you know someone’s there especially since my roommate doesn’t really eat or breath. It’s like the hairs on the back of your neck become sensitive like cat whiskers and can just... feel that someone’s there. Usually sends a chill down my spine when that happens, but this time, I was ready and waiting for it.
“Care to join me for dinner?” I say without turning around. If I had, they probably would have vanished on me again like they had been doing all week.
“Looks... good...” they say in their ever so familiar by now raspy voice.
“Got something you want to talk about?” I ask between bites. There’s a brief pause as my roommate thinks to themselves.
“...yes,” they finally answer.
“Okay. Pull up a chair! It’s been a while since we just, y’know, talked and stuff,” which was true.
The instant I said that, I realized that even before the “week of pink” began, we hadn’t spent a whole lot of time together outside of our usual TV time. I had long since figured out that my roommate wanted me to watch Pink Panther with them, but I just thought they wanted to show it to me to show off how (subjectively) good the cartoon was. Only then did it hit me that they wanted me to watch it with them because they wanted to watch it together with me. It was like they were hoping for some roommate bonding time or something like that.
Now, it wasn’t like we weren’t talking to each other before this. I greeted them whenever I saw them, and let them know whenever I came home or was leaving. but we hadn’t actually talked, like... “talk-talk” in a few weeks. Instead, the conversations over the last few weeks were like the kind of conversations a person would have with their pet cat or pet dog. Like you’d talk to them, but not really expect an answer from them.
I had been treating her like a pet more than a person. (Did it again! I’m thinking I’ll ask them later what kind of pronouns they’d like me to use, or if they’ve even given any thought towards gender or anything).
My guess is that my roommate picked up on this themselves, and just like a disobedient pet who is bored, lonely, or other, they made a mess of the place. Maybe they were thinking that if I was going to treat them like a pet, they would act like one too?
Of course, I didn’t mean to treat them like that. I don’t think anyone really does mean it when they do. It just kind of happens without thinking about it. The whole reason I’m writing this down here in you, diary, is so that I can make a mental note slash reminder to be careful of doing that kind of thing. It’s especially important to remember when interacting with other people, like my co-workers or the store customers. (Unlike my roommate, they can’t get on my case by making my entire apartment pink.)
------------
Now where was I? Oh yeah, our talk. I think I remember the most important bits of it. It went something like:
“So, whaddya wanna talk about?” I ask between bites of food.
“Pink...” they say to me. I wait a moment, expecting them to say “panther” after that, but it when it doesn’t arrive, I step in.
“Yeah! Pretty amazing what you did with the place! I didn’t know things could even get this pink!” which was one-hundred percent true.
“...Thank...you...” they say with a smile. I can tell that was not the answer they were expecting as I could have swore they turned and blushed. Although I couldn’t tell because of how pink everything else was.
“Although,” I add, “I don’t think the landlord is going to like the apartment being this pink. If it stays like this, they might kick me out. And we wouldn’t want that, right?”
Now my roommate, the apparition, actually looks shocked for a moment. The thought hadn’t entered their head, and for a moment, they looked a little scared. “N-n-n-no...” they stuttered.
“Well, I’m sure together, we can get this place back to the way it was before the next time they have an apartment inspection. Whenever that is,” I reassure them.
“Yeah...” my roommate nods.
“Say I got some time off this upcoming weekend.�� Want to watch some Pink Panther with me?” (Oh my God, you should have seen the smile on my roommate’s face when I asked this.) “I see I have the DVD collection now, apparently,” I say with a wink, “and we can even watch the movies together too.”
“...movies?” they ask.
“Yeah, the Pink Panther was a movie first before it became a cartoon. It was a live-action movie, but... well some of it’s like a cartoon here and there. Lots of slapstick comedy that I think you might like.” They were practically beaming and agreed immediately.
After Friday’s dinner, we watched some of the cartoons (which are actually pretty funny) and for the upcoming weekend, we’re doing a Pink Panther movie marathon with cartoons mixed in to spice it up. I also found out that my roommate doesn’t just watch the cartoons, but actually knows a thing or two about them. Like how Friz Freleng, one of the directors and creative minds behind the original Looney Tunes cartoons, was involved in the Pink Panther’s creation along with a new studio after he left Warner Brothers. I don’t know how my roommate came to know so much, but it’s pretty cool.
Anyway, I got me some sweet, pink treats to snack on during the movie marathon. The apartment is still pink as can be, but my roommate said they’ll take care of it once the marathon’s over. Exactly HOW they plan to take care of it, I have no idea. Oh well. No use pinking too hard about it.
(HA!)
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
My Boys
Chapter 1
Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14
Pairings: Reader x Steve Rogers (best friend) Reader x Bucky Barnes
Word Count:1563
Warnings: Slow Start, Language.
Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.
Side Note: Црни лабуд, according to google translate, means Black Lotus in Serbian.
So erm. Hi guys, first time sharing something on Tumblr, normally I’m the one reading all the fanfics but after reading so many talented people’s work I thought I’d try my hand at it :) hopefully it doesn’t completely suck, any writing tips and feedback is welcome and feel free to give some constructive criticism. I’m rambling, aren’t I? Okay I’ll shut up, Enjoy :)
It’s the same routine day after day, wake up, shower, get dressed and go out to recruit for Damien. The streets of Brooklyn aren’t exactly safe for a girl of 13, but hey this is what happens when a pair of inconsiderate asses sell their only child to one of the most infamous and dangerous gang of criminals for the cheap thrill of getting high. One way or another a girls gotta make a living and the way I do it could land me in jail for the rest of my life, I mean I didn’t exactly picture myself blackmailing and manipulating the poor souls targeted by Црни лабуд, but that’s the shit that happens when you find yourself being shunned by the society that’s supposed to help the weak.
Anyways I was getting close to my target, just two more blocks, through the back alley and up the stairs to the apartment owned by Greg Sampson. That clever son of a gun managed to bypass the security systems of the cities bank and make off with $5,000 and get away with it, and as expected the Црни лабуд want him to be our new “financial adviser” considering our last one double crossed the boss and died cause if it. Turning to corner to enter the alley was a moment, as cheesy as it sounds, I won’t ever forget, a big group of boys were surrounding a lanky and frail lad who by the looks of it had seen better days. His blonde hair was all over the shop and his face looked like it had been ploughed into the front of a bus, blood was coming out his nose and both his top and bottom lip were split open but despite all of that he was laughing and taunting the group.
“What’s the matter guys? Upset that you can’t keep me down?”, okay it’s official this kid has a death wish and I’m pretty sure that if I don’t do something I’m gonna be a witness to a murder, so of course my dumbass walks right into the middle of this “fight”. “So, what the hell is going off here? You boys decided to compensate for your small penises by acting like giant dicks or something?”, I could hear the lad behind me let out a laugh and a small smirk spread across my face as I looked at who I was up against, all the lads were red in the face and looked ready to put me into an early grave but I’d of liked to see them try.
Thanks to the boss I knew basic self-defence and apparently could pack one “hell of a punch” when pissed off, the tallest of the bunch stepped towards me and picked me up by my collar at an attempt to scare me “Who the hell do ya think ya are little girl?! Don’t ya know when to stay outta other people business? Now I gotta mess up that pretty lil face of yours”. It was safe to say whatever he said and did was about as intimidating as a wet kitten and honestly quite funny, hence why I laughed before I punched the prick in his face, not my smartest move cause then I was dropped straight on to my ass. One of the tall pricks mates decided to take advantage of my situation, yelling and cursing at me as he prepared to kick me right in the face ,which wouldn’t of been too pleasant let’s be honest, but right when his foot was about to make contact the blonde lad behind me pulled himself in front of me and took the blow for me, he went flying across the floor and hit the back wall.
Now I was pissed. As the group started to walk past me and advance on the blonde boy, I grabbed the ankle of the closest guy and pulled him down, climbing on top of him and really going in on his stupid face to try and get their attention back on me and off the guy struggling to stand. It’s safe to say it worked, a sudden force to my ribs knocked me off the boy and back onto the floor, and then the fun began…for them at least I wasn’t having as much fun as the collection of shitheads, pain erupted from all over body, one jackass was constant kicking me in the head as the others hit whatever part of me they could reach. It felt like it went on for forever, but, in reality it was only for 30 seconds, before the boys stopped, I could hear the sounds of punches and the whimpers of pain as multiple sets of steps started to run away from me.
I tried to sit up, but those bastards really did a number on my ribs and midsection, the pain making me cry out before crumpling to the floor, faint mummers and a moan of pain could be heard but I didn’t really care about that. Summoning my last bit of strength I pulled myself up, ignoring my bodies screams of protest, the wall becoming my new best friend as I started to limp towards my objective, I managed to get about 10 centimetres away from the alley before a arm wrapped around my waist and held me up.
“Just so you know that was fucking stupid move on your part, next time let me save the punk” ,okay hold the frigging phone who the hell is this and why haven’t I pushed his stupid ass to the floor? quickly I shoved him and “walked” away from him, royally pissed off. “By the time you’d of got here to save him he’d of been 6 feet under by now, so go screw yourself�� Perhaps I could have been nicer, but he did start it.
Miraculously I made it to the stairs and began to make my way up them, when once again a hand stopped me and I gotta be honest it’s really starting to piss me off, turning around to give this little bugger a piece of my mind, the words died in my throat as I came face to face with the blonde boy. Bruises littered his face and somehow his face was even bloodier then before, the mark from the kick was printed on his face and guilt immediately flooded my veins, “Ignore my friend, he doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut sometimes, anyway I wanted to thank you for stepping in there not a lotta people would be so quick to rush in and have my back. My names Steve, Steve Rodgers and the grumpy old man over there is James Barnes” Steve stuck his hand out as a greeting and offered me what I can assume he meant as a friendly smile, though the split lips did ruin the image. Slowly a smile spread across my face and I shook his hand in greeting, “It was no problem, honestly, besides you had em on the ropes, my names y/n and it’s nice to meet you, though I can’t say the same about your friend over there.”. The boy behind Steve or Bucky scoffed at me and walked off in a huff, not that I cared, simply raising my eyebrows at Steve, mocking his friends attitude he let out a sigh and gave me an apologetic smile in response, “Well I better go after him or he’ll kick up a storm, I’ll see ya around y/n” and with that he smiled a final time and ran off after his friend.
Returning to the task at hand, I let out a small smile at the thought of Steve before frowning, he was a good kid and didn’t need the trouble I brought, it’ll be best if I never see him again. I sighed before climbing up the rest of the stairs and prepared for the next few hours of hell I have to bring to this man, with those final thoughts I brought out my “tools” and got to work.
Okay honestly, I didn’t mean to make the first chapter so long, I wanted to provide the best in sight as to how this series will go, also the character development will be miles better in up-coming chapters. Thanks for reading :)
Rose xx
#bucky barnes x reader#captain america x reader#marvel#fanfic#reader#bucky#bucky barnes#steve#mcu#reader insert#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier#captain america
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
speak the language of love (like you know what it means)
"Have you had any experiences recently that have caused you stress or anxiety?”
Yennefer snorts.
“Well, I went from living in a 3000 square foot penthouse flat in Cintra to a hotel room in the middle of nowhere so—”
Geralts eyes widen. “That sounds like it would do it.”
Julian Pankratz, one of the Continent's most famous playboys, always invited to the hottest parties, always seen with the best of the best, is enjoying his lavish life in his huge Cintran apartment when he suddenly gets cut off by his parents and is sent to live in the middle of nowhere.
It might turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to him.
(aka the incredibly indulgent schitts creek au that I wrote)
Bloody hell, Jaskier thinks to himself again as he dragged his suitcase through the mud. Well, one of his suitcases. One of his many, many suitcases. Looking at the small army of luggage surrounding him, he might be willing to admit that there may be a small chance he has overpacked and maybe the driver had a right to be annoyed but it’s too late to worry about that now. And what was he supposed to do? Receiving the news that he was suddenly getting kicked out and cut off meant that he wasn’t exactly in his prime packing mindset. Hence, he seems to have packed everything he owns, and who knows when he’s going to be going home.
If he's going to be going home.
Nope. Not thinking about that. He’s saving his breakdown about all this until he has had time to find lots of chocolate and lots of wine. Pushing those thoughts from his mind, he somehow manages to drag himself along with his suitcases towards the front door.
The Cock & Bull.
The Cock & Bull in Prickwell.
Despite it all, he has to admit the name is funny. He just wishes it wasn’t where he was going to be living for the foreseeable future.
Pushing the door open to the small hotel, he enters what he can only assume is the reception. It’s not a particularly large room and seems to be worse for wear (understatement of the century) but right now its most redeeming quality is its distinct lack of rain.
“Hello, welcome to the Cock and Bull. I’m Yennefer,” the woman behind the desk says tiredly, without looking away from her computer “How can I help you?”
“Hello – hi – I, uh - I believe there’s a reservation for me?” he asks “It should be under Pankratz, Julian Pankratz.”
She types the name into her computer and then frowns “I’ve got nothing down here.”
Shit. “Maybe under Alfred Pankratz?”
“Still not seeing anything.”
“Shit. Right,” he was hoping to keep this information private but without this place he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. “Erm so long story but my Dad kind of owns this place? And, I uh may have been slightly cut off? So my Dad booked me a room here as a punishment. He said forever but I’m pretty sure that was a joke and he’s just trying to teach me a lesson so he probably booked it for like a week or something?”
“Oh, that’s you. I assumed that email was a joke. But yeah, there is a room that I can put you in.”
“Great, so is it like a penthouse suite or-?”
“It’s a single room. Sorry, all our suites are booked up.” She replies with what he thinks may be sarcasm “Here’s your key. It’s room 4, just up the stairs on the right. Breakfast is from half 7 to 10 in the morning. If you need anything else, I’ll be here.” “Right.” He looks at the mountain of luggage behind him “So is there like a concierge or someone to carry my bags?”
“Do we look like the kind of place that has a concierge?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Well, you’re here maybe you could—"
“I have to watch the desk,” she says simply.
“Well is there a lift or anything?”
“Round the corner, but it’s a bit temperamental. I wouldn’t risk it.”
“Great.”
It takes him an embarrassingly long time and an embarrassing number of trips but eventually he manages to get all his bags up the stairs into the room.
He looks around the room. It’s not the worst place he’s ever stayed, but its close. His bags take up almost fill the room, not that there is much else in it: a small bed, a bedside table, a tiny wardrobe that can barely fit half of suitcase in it, a small TV and the most disgusting wallpaper that he has ever seen.
The one saving grace of the room is the window, or rather the view out the window. Out of the small window, in the distance he can just about make out a sandy beach and the blue of the sea.
A shower. That will make him feel better.
He steps into the tiny cubicle and lets the lukewarm water trickle over him, but instead of making him feel better, the only thing running through his mind is the conversation he had with his parents only a few hours ago.
“We’re cutting you off, Julian,” his father announced, storming into his bedroom and ripping open the curtains.
“I’m sorry?” He glanced at the clock and realised he had only been in bed for about 2 hours, having been out all night and stumbling in at 6am. He was not prepared in the least for a visit from his father. At least this time he hadn’t brought anyone home, the last time his father had barged in for a morning lecture they had had to wait awkwardly whilst the model he had spent the night with gathered her clothes and left.
“We’re cutting you off,” Alfred repeated, “You’ve been gallivanting around and partying far too much and wasting all my money and I’m sick of it,”
“Well its on my card so technically its my money!”
“No it isn’t! It is my money that I earned by working, and I will not have you waste it whoring yourself out all over the place!”
“I am not ‘whoring myself out’! And you gave that money to me and put it on my card so it’s mine!”
“I gave it you in the hopes that you would do something worthwhile with it but you’ve just pissed it up the wall, wracking up debts and you’ve turned this family into a laughing stock.”
“Well, I’m sorry for having a bit of fun! Gods.”
“Well, the fun is over now. I’ve cancelled all your accounts and I’ve sold your flat, which should just about cover the debts and we’re sending you away—”
“What do you mean ‘you’re sending me away’? I’m not a fucking child! I’m an adult and you can’t just sell my house and kick me out onto the street like some kind of dog!”
“I’m not kicking you out. I’ve booked you a room in a hotel.”
Oh well, that changes things, he had thought. A few nights in the Savoy while he waits for them to calm down won’t be too bad.
“The car will be here to pick you up in 20 minutes and it will take you to your flat to sort your things before taking you to Kaedwen.”
“Kaedwen? Why the fuck is it taking me to Kaedwen?”
“I told you – I’ve booked you a room on a hotel. And you’ll stay there for two months until you’ve sorted yourself out.”
“But why Kaedwen? Wait – are you sending me to that hotel you bought ages ago for a joke?” His father just nods and Jaskier lets out a manic laugh. “Of course you are. Fine send me off to the middle of fucking nowhere. But why are you selling my flat if I’m only there for 2 months?”
“Oh, you won’t be coming back. I’m only paying for the room for 2 months, and then it’s up to you,” he says matter-of-factly.
“But – I – you can’t!”
“Oh, I think you’ll find I can and I am,” his father says calmly “Ten minutes Julian.”
So he was taken to his flat and given half an hour to pack his belongings whilst the driver – Jon or Jan or Pieter or something – stands and watches on, whilst he frantically he throws all the clothes he can find into a suitcase, grabbing whatever he can. He at least got some help carrying his bags down to the car and throwing them in the back. Then with another glare he was shepherded into the back of the car and they were off and, well here he is.
He steps out the shower and dries himself off with towels that seem to be made from carboard, cursing himself for not packing his ones from his flat. He picks out some dry clothes and makes his way downstairs to reception.
“Do you have towels?”
“Are there not any in your room?”
“If you mean the two sheets of sandpaper that seem to be lying on my bed then yes there are. But I cannot use them.”
“Why not?” “Why not? Did you not hear me say sandpaper?”
“Those towels are perfectly fine”
“If you don’t value your skin then I suppose so.”
“So?”
“So what?”
“My towels?”
“You’ve got your towels.”
“Are you always this rude?”
“Only to people who deserve it.”
“And what I have I done to deserve it? I am in an extremely stressful situation right now, and all I want to do is take a bath, preferably with a toaster, and forget that this whole thing is happening ok?”
Yennefer stares at him, and he prays that she can’t see the desperation that is almost certainly plastered across his entire face.
“Fine, I think I have some new towels in the back. Give me a minute,” she says whilst moving towards what he guesses is the back “I’m only doing this so that you’ll leave me alone.”
She pauses at the door and turns to him, “And because you called me rude. I take that as a compliment.” And with that she’s gone.
Jaskier turns and takes another look at the room he now finds himself in, and what he now realises, with sinking heart, is going to be his new home for a while. It’s a fairly plain room, blank white walls with a few cracks running through the old plaster. There are old beams running along the ceiling and there’s a nice stone fireplace in the corner and on any other day he probably would go so far as to call it nice – a sort of country chic right out of a cute rom-com. But right now the sight of it just makes him angrier.
He is snapped out of his reverie by towels being shoved into his face.
“Here.”
Jaskier takes them and runs his fingers over them. They are still nothing compared to the lovely Egyptian cotton towels that are sitting back in his flat, but they’re better than what he had. They’ll have to do. Standing up from his chair, he suddenly realises how hungry he is.
“Is there somewhere I can get something to eat?”
“There’s a café across the road that’s open all day. There’s the pub as well if you consider an ancient packet of crisps as food.”
“Café it is then.”
read the rest on AO3!
#the witcher#the witcher fic#geraskier#geraskier fic#geralt x jaskier#jaskier#geralt#yennefer#ciri#triss#my fic#my writing
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
Survey #412
“there’s nothing i could ever write to help you understand this life / there’s so much beauty when your eyes lay lost in all the city lights”
Did you make any money today? Nope. What was the highest place you've ever jumped from? Idk. Have you ever gone swimming in a river? Yes, but it wasn't in a fast-flowing area of it. Is there something you really want to buy at the moment? I mention Venus' terrarium enough, so besides that, I'd really like to buy a plane ticket to see Sara, as well as new glasses. Would you ever consider culinary school? No. What was the last souvenir someone got you? uhhhhhhhh Do you have a favorite remix of a song? BOI I couldn't begin. Has the power gone out recently? No. Do you like driving at night? NOOOOOOO. What do you think is the most saddest sounding instrument? Either a violin or piano. Do you really pay attention to the ratings on movies? Nope. Have you ever snuck in to a theater/dance/bar etc? No. If given the chance, would you go to Ireland? Yeah! I'd love to go on a photography journey there. Are you afraid of standing on the edge of hills/skyscrapers/cliffs etc? Yeah, heights scare me and I have a serious case of "what if I jumped off?". I'm not suicidal or anything, but there's an actual term for that urge that is somewhat normal. I just can't remember what it is. Do you have a favorite species of wild cat (tiger/lion/cougar etc)? Probably the clouded leopard. But I LOVE wild cats. I think lions are the most interesting. Do you have an absolute favorite name (boy or girl)? Alessandra, 120%. It is so beautiful-sounding, plus I love that you can use "Alessa" as a nickname. My Silent Hill obsession is quite thrilled by that, ha ha. Are you good at pronouncing foreign words? I'm decent with German. When listening to music, do you usually tap your foot etc to the beat? It's weird, I actually have a habit of swaying my leg back and forth. Not even to the beat, I just do it. Have you ever literally cried on a friend's shoulder? Yes. Would you ever consider being a DJ at a party if you were paid? No. Do strapless bras work for you? Look man my boobs are too big for those lmao. Has anyone told you that they wanted to marry you/were planning on it/etc? Many times. Guess who's not around anymore. Do you feel comfortable enough to wear short shorts? HELL no. Have a favorite actor/actress from Old Hollywood? (Marilyn Munroe, etc) Not really. What's your opinion on people who stretch their ears? You do you, boo. Do you think tattoos are expressive art or unattractive? A R T ! ! ! What is your school mascot? I'm not in school. Have you ever seen a bear in the wild? No. What's the book you're currently reading? Wings of Fire: Moon Rising. Can you recall the most disturbing movie you've ever seen? Paranormal Entity. Has anyone you know gotten mono? My older sister did when she was I think in high school. Have you ever picked an apple off the tree and eaten it? Yes, actually! It was one of the best apples I'd ever tasted. Can you say yes/no in different languages? In German, ja. (See what I did there lololol I'm clever.) Out of the traditional superheroes, which one is your favorite? Spider-Man. Ever peed in your pants after the age of 10? Maybe TMI, but a few years ago, I had a very strange episode of premature incontinence. It stopped, but it was very weird and embarrassing. Had any surgeries? What kind? I had tubes put in my ears as a two-year-old, and I wanna say at the end of 2016 is when I had my cyst removal surgery. Ever told your parents you hated them? My dad, yes. Very vehemently. I will always regret the letter I sent him. Do you let your pets on your furniture? Of course. This is their house, too. How do you feel about kettle cooked chips? Ew. How strong do you like your coffee? I don't like coffee, period. Would you rather see someone of the opposite sex naked or nicely dressed? Uhhhh I dunno. I guess it depends on the mood. Would you ever consider visiting Texas? I have friends there I'd love to meet, but I don't think so. Too hot. If you could make a movie, what would it be about? Some of the less-upsetting/disturbing RP stories I've taken part in writing. If you were kicked out of your current residence whom would you call? My dad. Do you want a boyfriend or girlfriend? I mean I do, but I don't think now is the time. I need to set shit straight about myself first. Do you prefer broccoli or asparagus? Broccoli. Asparagus is repulsive. Was the last person you kissed attractive? She's gorgeous. Are you racist at all? Not at all. Do you read creepypasta? If not, you should. Nah. Have you ever vandalized? Nope. Would you ever scuba dive in shark-infested waters if you had the chance? Most likely not. And by the way, they do not "infest" waters. That's their home. I hate that phrase so much. Have you ever been drunk at work? No. Have you ever hit a parked car with your car? No. Have you ever slept on the floor with someone you like? Yes. I remember Jason and I made a palette on the living room floor at least one night. It was SO uncomfortable. I don't even remember why we did it. Which do you prefer: french toast, bagels, or cereal? French toast. *_* Do you prefer light or dark haired? I prefer colorful hair. Have you ever read any of the Chicken Soup for the Soul books? No. I remember we had at least one, though. Would you be prepared to do a job that you didn’t like, if it paid well? No. That would affect my depression so badly. Do you think age is needed for maturity? Absolutely not. Do you believe the future is predetermined? No. What the hell would even be the point if it was? Like you'd have no free will; you'd just be a character in a story a higher power wrote. What words are most comforting to you? "I love you," "I'm here for you," "you're strong enough to get through this," stuff like that. How important is money to you? I have a stressful relationship with money. I've never in my life had a stable income because the three jobs I've had were so incredibly short-lived, so the money I DO get, I cherish the shit outta it.. I make sure I REALLY want something, and I mean it modestly, but I'm also honestly pretty selfless with money, too. I'm very willing to leave considerable tips, I don't mind buying pricey gifts for people if I think they would really, really like it, stuff like that. Going my whole life being poor, I just understand the situation so well and want to help people where I can. Is there anything you want to last forever? Love. By that I mean I hope even beyond death, the relationships we built in life stretch into what afterlife there may be. List three of your passions: Animals and their conservation, LGBTQ+ rights, and the pro-choice movement. How old do you want to live to? As old as I can before the point of being totally dependent on others to do things like clean me and stuff. I do NOT want to be get to the point of essentially being a rotting corpse. What kind of love do you value the most? Romantic, honestly. There's just something so special about it. If you could control one element, what would it be? Water I suppose, because it would be the most helpful. Do you prefer foxes or wolves? Man, that's hard, but I guess foxes. Could you ever deliver a baby? I don't think I could. I handle stomach pain VERY poorly, and I know I would screech loud enough to crack the damn sky before it would be time to perform the epidural. Do you think suits are sexy? Yeah. Ever been called babe? Yeah. How old is your youngest sibling? She's 23. Who in your phone has a heart after their name? Sara. Favorite boy’s name? Probably Severin. Are your parents together, separated, divorced, never married, what? Divorced. Do you go online every day? Yep. What is the best quality in the last guy you kissed? The last guy I kissed, maybe his loyalty. He has ALWAYS been there for me. He's also funny as hell. What do you usually do during a kiss? Depends on how passionate it is? Do you have an older brother? I do. You’re offered free tickets to a Justin Bieber concert. What do you do? Sell those bad boys. What’s the genre of the current song you’re listening to? Pop. Can you believe it?? Would you ever keep your favorite animal as a pet? ABSOLUTELY not. I could write an actual essay on why meerkats should NOT be kept as pets. Would you ever sell your soul? Noooo thanks.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
HTaHHQ Episode 3: The Vengeance of an Artist (part 2)
And here's the final part! Looks like the prank went pretty well, and Stacy's warmed up to another Puppet. At least, to the point where she won't run in fear. Maybe, she'll even help him with more stuff in the future.
Next episode will be out... idk. Might be the next thing I write actually. Until then, hope y'all have a good time. :D
"Miss Stein, I have a job for you."
"I don't have to do any jobs for you." Stacy told him, voice kept deliberately even. Nick felt a little put out, holding Scout up by her arm. The handpuppet just hung there,
"You doing one for Daisy." he argued, pointing at the little blue annoyance. Stacy huffed and, to his shock, stalked forward to outright snatch the smaller Puppet from his grasp.
"Don't hold her like that!" She admonished, settling Scout on her head. "Daisy will kill you if you hurt her."
'How odd.' He thought, watching Stacy handle the little cretin. Outwardly, he sighed. "Yes yes, I'm well aware of her temper. Now, come along. We have a job to do."
"We have to wait here for Mary." Stacy told him sternly, and he smirked.
"Oh, don't worry about her. She'll be busy for quite a while yet."
In the writers' room, Mary slammed her hands on her desk in frustration, a mess of papers spread out in front of her. "Why the fuck does he always wait until Friday to request plot and script changes?!"
"She'll be done soon enough, but it gives us enough time for you to help me." Nick told Stacy, who frowned. This wasn't good at all.
"... I still need to stay with Danny though." She tried, desperate to find any reason to refuse. This wasn't at all like when Scout took her to the playroom.
"He can come with and help." Nick told them, turning and starting to wheel away. "Now, come along. We're wasting time."
Danny seemed happy enough to tag along, but Stacy kept a tight grip on his hand as they followed Nick down the hall and to the elevator by the door. He inserted his key card, and then stood aside to let the kids on first. Stacy climbed into the tiny box nervously. The only reason she was deciding to trust him was because she knew the playroom was up there, and she could hide in there with Danny if needed.
Up, up, up they went, to the highest floor. And then down the winding halls to a plain door with a hazard sign and the words KEEP OUT underneath it in bright red. It was also covered in various science themed stickers, like cartoonish beakers full of bright colors, and various medical tools. It didn't take a genius to know who slept in here.
"Why are we outside of Riley's bedroom?" Stacy asked, and then immediately regretted it when Nick coughed lightly into his fist. That was the cue that he was about to go into a monologue. She recognized it, because he used to do it at least once a episode in the show.
"Well, since she stole my beloved paints, I've decided to do some research into her "science", and found that replacing her beakers with these ones made of sugar glass will be hilarious." He held out the beakers, and scoffed when he noticed Stacy's look. "Oh don't give me that look, she keeps all her dangerous chemicals elsewhere. She just likes to keep her beakers for the show up here where it's "safe". It'll be great when they melt during Monday's filming."
"And why do you need me?" The girl asked. She fought the urge to cross her arms and tap her foot, though her impatience still leaked into her voice.
"I'm banned from Riley's room." Nick deadpanned, and it took everything Stacy had to not facepalm. Of course. "Also, Danny told me you're good at breaking into places you're not supposed to be."
"Danny! That's a secret!" She rounded on him, feeling her face go hot.
"But Nick asked!" The boy insisted unapologetically. "And besides, you said it was a good skill."
"No, I said it was a good skill to know, not a good skill by itself. Also, stop telling people stuff about me!" She looked mad, and Nick thought that was a good thing. Certainly a better look then the scared little girl he and the others usually saw. Now if he could just encourage her to lose the baggy shirts... but no. Plan the makeover for another time. For now, it was time for revenge!
He cleared his throat, wheeling closer and holding the box of beakers out. "Will you do it, or not?" He asked bluntly, and Stacy crossed her arms.
"I am not getting involved in your stupid little-"
"I'll give you fifty dollars." He whipped out the fifty from a hidden pocket in his sweater, and the girl stopped mid sentence. After a beat she snatched the bill, turning and crouching in front of the door. She tucked the money under her right glove, pulling out a couple of slim tools as she did so.
"I can't believe I'm selling myself for a fifty." She muttered as she unlocked the door. It was surprisingly simple, and it made her feel uneasy as she put the tools away. She grabbed the box of beakers, then handed off Scout. She peered inside, noting the lack of Riley or Rosco. "It looks empty." She told Nick, who waved her on.
With a nervous swallow, she entered the too bright room, the door closing most of the way behind her. There was a large table in the middle, and a messily made bed shoved in one corner. The walls were covered in shelves that were full of books on all sorts of subjects. Any other time, and she would've loved to see just what kinds of books were there. But, she had a job to do.
She crossed to the shelf that held the box of beakers, and quickly swapped it for the identical fakes. Holding the box of real beakers close, she crossed the room back to the door. she heard something open behind her, Riley's voice drifting through. Thinking quick, she ducked under the table, hopeful it would be enough.
"Let's see, if we do the mentos experiment again that should be good enough. Could have the kiddies make volcanoes..." She muttered as she wheeled past. Stacy stayed huddled down, hands over her mouth to muffle her breathing. She watched the stand stop by a shelf, followed by the sound of fabric hitting fabric as she threw something to the bed. "Maybe baking soda? That might work better. Or maybe as a comparison between the two... Yes! That would be fantastic for an experiment!" Pencil against paper, and then the sound of things being moved. Stacy threw a desperate look towards where the door was still ajar.
Technically, Stacy could sneak out if she was quick. Riley was still talking to herself, and seemed distracted enough. But, she didn't know which way the Puppet scientist was facing. If she was facing the door, Stacy would be caught immediately, and then they'd all be in deep dookie. And she couldn't check, because, again, deep dookie if she was caught.
But, she couldn't just sit there for forever. And so, with a deep, quiet breath, Stacy leaned carefully out from under the table, just enough to check where Riley was looking. To her luck, it looked like her attention was completely absorbed by the books. A glance back at the door showed it had opened a little bit wider, with Scout, Nick, and Danny all peering in at her. Okay, she could work with this.
Carefully, she set the box of beakers down with as little noise as possible. With any luck, they wouldn't be noticed under the table. She then resettled into a runners starting position, noting how Nick was on her left and Danny on her right. 'Perfect.'
With a bang she burst through the door, grabbing Nick's sweater while scooping her brother up in her right arm. She managed to turn and drag them both out of sight as a startled "What the-" followed her out of the room. She turned another corner before finally letting go of both of them, hopeful that Riley hadn't seen them. And that she wouldn't try and follow them.
Unfortunately for Nick, he had been precariously balanced on one wheel during the escape. So, when Stacy let go of his sweater, he tipped over immediately with a loud thump. Scout landed on his chest, having been safely in his arms during the whole thing.
"That was totally awesome!" She yelled, as Stacy tried to shush her. She was still holding Danny, who was clapping, and thus didn't have a hand free to stop the Puppet from flinging herself at her face.
"Scout, shut up!" She hissed, grabbing her. She covered her mouth and waited to make sure Riley hadn't heard. "You can't let her know we're up here, or we could get in trouble."
"Oh please, like I'd let that happen." Nick had somehow righted himself, "standing" straight as ever and talking in a low voice. "Besides, you at least get to be up here since you became Scout's babysitter. Don't pout, it's true." He told Scout when she opened her mouth to object.
"Yeah, but we should still get out of here before she finds us!" Stacy insisted, ignoring Danny's pushing at her arm. She finally noticed as he kicked her side, jumping a bit and putting him down. "Oh, sorry Danny." She grabbed his hand, not wanting him to wander off and alert Riley.
"Right. Come along, this way." He led them down another hallway, a different way to get to the elevator without having to backtrack. This time there was no place to slide a key-card, which made sense. They were already in the forbidden area after all. They got inside, staying quiet the whole ride down.
Once back on the main floor, Stacy expected to go back to the Sound Stage, where her and Danny were before. Instead, Nick led them to the writing offices, and she watched as the Puppets and Danny disappeared into Mary's office. Stacy hung back, lingering in the hall to look around a little.
The doors had windows with frosted glass on them, like in the old noir movies her dad liked to watch. As a result she couldn't see inside, so instead she crouched down to peer into the keyhole of Mortimer's office.
The Puppet was there, bent over some paperwork, hat sitting on the desk next to him. Stacy thought he looked weird with it off, and not how he was supposed to. She looked away after a moment, content the magician wasn't doing anything potentially dangerous to anyone. Instead she finally followed the others into Mary's office, where her stepmother was berating Nick for something.
She stepped into the room, letting the door close softly behind her and cutting off Mary's tirade.
"Oh, there you are! Go get your stuff Stacy, we're leaving now before I commit a murder." She told the girl, who nodded and quickly left the room again. Danny followed a moment later.
"Mommy's mad." He told her, and she nodded as her voice rose behind them.
"-and how DARE you do this to me now! You know better! Do I really need to talk to Mortimer about this again?!"
"Real mad. Let's hurry so we can get home!" Together they rushed to collect their bags from Stacy's locker. However, during the walk back, she couldn't keep her mind from wandering to the little adventure earlier.
'Maybe Nick's not so bad. He didn't say anything about my lock picking skills at least. Maybe... Maybe I could do more jobs for him. Later.'
#htahhq#happy times at handeemen hq#nick nack#scout#stacy stein#riley ruckus#danny stein#hello puppets#fanfiction
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wacky Drabbles #52
this week’s prompt: Sure, alcohol solves most problems, but in this particular case, I don’t think it will help.
Wacky Drabblers: @ao719 @axwalker @bbrandy2002 @bebepac @bitchloveskcbaseball @blackcatkita @bobasheebaby @burnsoslow @dcbbw @debramcg1106 @doriansapprentice @drethanramslay @emceesynonymroll @everythingchoices @flutistbyday2020 @jessiembruno @katedrakeohd @kingliam-rys @losingbraincellseveryday @loveellamae @lucy-268 @oofchoices @openheart12 @pedudley @ravenpuff02 @romanticatheart-posts @sirbeepsalot @speedyoperarascalparty @storyofmychoices @texaskitten30 @utterlyinevitable @wackydrabbles @walkerswhiskeygirl
..
What happens in Paris....(stays with us forever) (part 1)
TRR book 2:
Drake × MC (Kate Darling)
The lights of Paris twinkle in the warm summer air as Drake and I walk arm in arm back to the train. Between the bachelor party and the drinking game at the dive bar I've had way too much whiskey. Drake is definitely more relaxed, and every now and then I catch him wearing a little smile when he glances my way.
It's been an emotional few days for both of us. In my mind I'm worried about who may still be plotting against me. Bastien and Penelope are the last people I'd have suspected. Bastien is supposed to play a protective role at court. Who could be so threatened by me that they'd hire Bastien to smear my name in the press? Meanwhile Bertrand had been trying to discredit me and cause more scandal by selling Maxwell's scrapbook photos to a tabloid. How can he have so little faith in me? If those photos had gone public it would have been worse for Liam, and tainted the whole social season before it had even begun.
And then we found out that Maxwell has been hiding Savannah's whereabouts this whole time from Drake. And he's been secretly stealing Beaumont money to support her. Sure he felt his intentions were honorable because he was helping his nephew and respecting Savannah's privacy, but to see Drake every day and hide his own sister from him still hurts. Plus finding out that Bertrand had callously brushed Savannah aside as not being worthy, stung me too and she's not even my sister. No wonder Drake hates nobles and all their pretentiousness and lies.
Drake and I don't know who we can trust anymore. But at least we have eachother. I know he wants to be with me, and I want to be with him too. Although at this point we don't know what kind of relationship we can safely have together.
Even though Drake had been invited to Liam's bachelor party at the fancy speakeasy as his best friend, he knew he didn't really fit in. I'm glad I was able to be there with him so he wouldn't be the only non-noble at the party. He looked so handsome in his blue jacket and green dress shirt. In the smoky, uber masculine atmosphere of the club with a whiskey in his hand he had looked so sexy too. And being there with him in that black cocktail dress and knowing that he appreciated how good I looked, was a thrill all by itself. If only he and I could have been there on a date instead of a spy mission.
Although he had tried so hard not to look at all of my exposed skin during the drive in the limo, with every move I made or every time he had to interact with me, I knew he was having a hard time trying to hold himself together. If Maxwell hadn't been there, he would have been all over me for sure. Just like yesterday after we had returned from Savannah's apartment. Granted it had been me who had initiated the brief makeout session, but I couldn't help myself after spending the afternoon with him. We had been riding the emotional high of finding Savannah safe, and discovering that Drake was an uncle.
Ever since I returned to court after the coronation, Drake has been by my side to protect me. And little by little he's been opening up and letting me into his life. I feel safer around him than among all the nobles who have been scheming against me. Even Liam is being openly duplicitous by smiling next to Madeleine for the press, and then seeking out my company in private. Though he and Madeleine have an arrangement as far as I'm concerned, he's still lying to his subjects about their engagement. I'm definitely not comfortable being thought of as his mistress.
In the few moments that Liam and I have had together in private, he's made it plain how much he loves me. And trust me he's quite easy to love back, with his charm, good looks and romantic ways. I'm not going to lie and say I don't care for him, because I do, but loving him comes with a price. No matter what, as a King, his duty to his country comes first. Marrying him comes with a crown and country attached. Sure I can be polite and diplomatic when I have to be, but the idea of being queen scares me. Madeleine can have the crown all she wants, she knows how to be Queen, but I worry about Liam's happiness.
The more time I spend with Drake though, the more I really don't want to be a noblewoman at all. Despite my love for Cordonia with its unique customs and Mediterranean climate, it's such a breath of fresh air compared to New York, until this scandal is resolved and the media stops blaming me for making Liam's Coronation so controversial; I feel like everyone is staring at me and talking about me.
I wish Drake and I could just run away from all of this and never look back, but we can't.
When we arrive back at the train, Drake walks me back to my compartment. Suddenly being so close to him in the narrow passage is overwhelming and my palms are sweating. I fumble to work the latch on my door, and can't get it to open.
I can feel his eyes on me as he leans his shoulder against the wall beside me. "Having trouble there, Darling?" he says, in a low tone, his words slightly slurred.
Wiping my hand on the curve of my hip, I can hear a change in his breathing as he steps in behind me.
"Let me help. These doors can be tricky sometimes, with all the jostling of the train cars." His breath is hot on the back of my neck, and smells of whiskey. I find myself teetering on my heels and leaning back against the broad wall of his chest. He reaches around me to put his hand on the door latch, and his other hand braces on my hip to hold me upright.
"Woah there, Darling. You really are a lightweight when it comes to your whiskey aren't you?"
I giggle self consciously as I hear his soft grunt in my ear, his strong hand easily turning the latch and forcing the door open. He nudges me forward and follows me into my room. Stepping back he leans against the doorframe, watching me kick off my heels and sit down on the edge of the bed.
"So, uh. I guess this is goodnight then." He mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to avoid looking at me.
It's now or never. I either invite him to stay, or let him shuffle off on his own.
I know he shares a compartment with Maxwell, who's not exactly his favorite person right now, and I feel sorry for him. "Thanks for sticking up for me back at the party." I say quietly, not wanting him to leave yet.
He steps back into the hall, his hand going to the door latch to pull the door closed. "Yeah, uh you're welcome." He grins sheepishly, "Thanks for stopping me from making a bigger ass of myself. Oh fuck, If I'd hit Bertrand…" He heaves a sigh, puffing out his cheeks as he breathes out and rubs at the frown on his forehead.
Getting up from the bed I walk over to him, "Hey, I understand. I would have been pissed too. But yeah, hitting him in front of everyone would have been really bad."
He punches the doorframe and then leans his forehead against his fist, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth. "It..all..just..makes..me..so..mad." he grounds out, his chest heaving.
Placing my hand on his arm, I can feel how wound up he is, his muscles feel like stone under the fabric of his jacket. Now I know I can't let him be alone.
"Drake, look at me." I say quietly.
"I can't," he whispers, turning his head to face out into the hall.
Tugging at his arm with both hands, I pull him off balance and he stumbles into my room and I slide the door shut and lock it. Regaining his footing, he stands there, fists clenched and stares me down as I bar the door with my body. "Okay, not funny. Let me out." he grumbles.
I shake my head, crossing my arms across my middle, deliberately making them a shelf for my breasts. The motion isn't lost on Drake, and I catch him looking down at the way my cleavage is on full display behind the black mesh insert of my dress. He quickly looks away, blushing, and starts to pace back and forth like a caged animal. His long legs eat up the tiny space in only a couple of strides per trip. I can practically see the smoke coming out of his ears, as he continuously rakes his hair back from his forehead.
"You can work yourself up all you want, Drake. But I'm not letting you out of here to take out your frustrations on destroying the interior of the royal train, or to drown your anger at the bottom of a bottle. Sure, alcohol solves most problems, but in this particular case, I don’t think it will help."
He stops and looks at me, with a devilish smirk on his face, "And if I try to force my way out of here?"
I raise my chin in defiance as he steps over to me, placing his hands on either side of the doorframe and looking down at me in an attempt to intimidate me. "I'll scream." I say, not scared in the least.
His eyebrows shoot up, and now it's him that looks worried. "You wouldn't dare!"
I undo the button on his jacket, and slide my hands up the front of his shirt stopping them to rest on either side of his neck, his skin feels so hot to my touch. "You need an emotional outlet Drake. Let me help you with that."
/ the second part here
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
Welcome to the Heart Pirates, Nami-ya chapter 17: Getting Hands-On
Neither navigator made an effort to hide the despair on their faces as they walked into the infirmary. Why bother? Law would figure out they failed the second he realized they didn’t have the antivenom they’d set out for; just some canned goods and a journal describing the horrors that had taken place on the ship. That, and the bloody scrapes from the vulture’s attack stood out starkly against Bepo’s white fur, so even if they wanted to pretend everything went swimmingly, the doctor would call bullshit in an instant.
The large cat halted in the middle of the room, his pacing disturbed by their entrance. His brow furrowed at the subdued mood and nose twitched at the scent of blood and seawater. He gave a curt, questioning meow as he bounded over, circling the pair as he took in their minor injuries.
“I’m so sorry, Law,” Bepo said despondently, kneeling down so his captain could get a closer look at the shallow cuts across his muzzle. “One of the pirates flew off with the antivenom.”
“The captain’s a vulture in every sense of the word,” Nami sneered, tossing her own bag to the ground as she marched over to the cabinets to grab some antibacterial cream for the bear. She was wet, miserable, and trying to hide her internal panic with anger. “He told Bepo that if we want it, we need to trade the old man for it. But we can’t!”
Law snorted, which Bepo translated to “‘Why not’?”
Tossing Bepo the cream, she glared at his captain’s heartless response. “Law, the man was a prisoner on that ship,” she argued as she pulled out the leather-bound diary from her bag. “I read the captain’s journal—turning him over to those bastards is the last thing he deserves, even if he did attack us.” Flipping to one of the damning entries, she shoved the book under his nose. “They exploited his powers and tortured him. Made him help in what was basically slave trafficking. He had to turn children into animals to be sold as exotic pets or skinned for their pelts. Hell, I can’t blame him for panicking when he saw us—I’d have done the same!” Or worse, she thought to herself, remembering the cages and tools she’d seen in the cargo hold. I’d definitely turn the captain into a bug and squash him.
Yellow eyes darted across the page, taking in the captain’s cruel words before Law let out a few grunts.
Dabbing one of his cuts with the antibacterial cream, Bepo winced at his captain’s harsh retort. “Uh, Law says ‘The old man certainly suffered, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m literally dying because of him’.”
Nami’s heart twisted in her chest. Not just at how callous his words were, but at the fact that he was technically right. It was the doctor’s fault; if he hadn’t turned Law into a leopard, or his former captors into deadly snakes, none of this would be an issue. If they didn’t betray him, the venom would paralyze Law’s lungs and basically suffocate him from the inside. But then again…
Teeth gritting, she bit out, “Fine. If you want a more practical reason not to turn him over, how about the fact that we need him to turn you and the crew back into humans? Did you think about that?!”
Spotted ears flattened against his skull as he growled. “‘Of course I did! We’re in a no-win situation; I’ll either die painfully or spend the rest of my life as a snow leopard’.”
Bepo’s shoulders sagged further as the full weight of their hopeless situation hit him. “And who knows how long it’ll be until you go completely feral? Or the others? And if we can’t get you all human again, we’re stuck on this island forever—Nami and I can’t sail the Tang on our own.”
Tears of frustration welled up in Nami’s eyes at that. Damn it, things really were a mess, weren’t they? Nothing had gone right since the King Game! “It’s not fair! That was supposed to be an easy errand for some barmy old man! Law was supposed to learn a valuable lesson about letting his crew handle things, and the Hearts to not rely on his powers for everything! This was supposed to be a vacation!” she shouted, kicking the examination table in frustration so hard some of the zoology books tumbled to the floor.
“Nami…” Bepo whimpered, worried about his friend, but Law held up a paw to keep him from going to her.
Yanking off her wet boots and throwing them across the infirmary, she continued to vent. “I swear, I should have stayed in Weatheria! Then I wouldn’t have to deal with psychotic poachers or creepy octopus-men or underworld power struggles or any of the other crap I’ve run into since I agreed to this stupid deal! I’d be safe and sound with the Weather Wizards, training to be the best damn navigator Luffy could ask for!”
For a few moments, the only sound that filled the infirmary were Nami’s heaving pants as she caught her breath.
“I’m sorry we’ve caused you so much trouble, Nami,” Bepo finally said, hanging his head in despair. Law said nothing, but he too looked away from her, and the way his brow was scrunched up made it clear he was berating himself for all the danger he’d inadvertently put her in.
Anger spent due to her little temper tantrum, she rubbed her forehead and collapsed into a chair. “No, I’m sorry,” she sighed. “This isn’t your fault; danger’s par for the course when you’re a pirate. I’m just scared. I don’t like being backed into a corner like this. It makes me lash out sometimes. It’s like…it’s like when I first met Luffy. I was given the choice between shooting him with an explosive cannonball, or the pirates I was conning killing me. I didn’t want to die, but I couldn’t kill some helpless idiot in cold blood. There was no way I could win.”
“What happened?”
“One of the pirates decided that maybe I didn’t know how to light a canon, so he took the matches from me, and I…I attacked him. I couldn’t help myself! And then Zoro showed up and saved us both, and I stole the key to Luffy’s cage while we escaped in the confusion.”
“Sounds like your crew really has your captain’s back,” Bepo said, giving Law a sideways glance.
A tiny smile came to her face at the memory. “Heh. We weren’t even a crew then—just a misfit trio. Zoro’d known Luffy for like, a day, and I’d met him that afternoon. But the three of us still managed to save a village from Buggy and his crew and get a map to the Grand Line.”
Law let out a begrudging string of meows, and the corner of Bepo’s mouth lifted a bit. “He says, ‘If Mugiwara-ya was able to trust you and Zoro-ya to save him after just meeting you, I suppose I can show a little more faith in my crew’.”
“I’d be a lot happier to hear that if there was a chance you all could come out of this alive and human,” Nami sighed. “Except we’re still stuck in a no-win situation.”
“Maybe we could fight the pirates for the antivenom?” Bepo asked. “I know Law’s supposed to take it easy and not strain himself, but we’re kind of desperate. Snow leopards are supposed to be great jumpers—maybe he could snatch that vulture out of the air!”
“Or he could miss and it could fly off with the antivenom and drop it into the ocean out of spite while we’re stuck fighting whatever the rest of its crew was turned into.” She shook her head. “We’re at a major disadvantage—we don’t know what they are, their abilities, or even how many of them there are. Hell, we didn’t even think to ask the doctor about any of that—we just assumed none of them would be on the ship.”
Law sighed and grunted a few things, which the Mink translated. “‘It was an oversight on all our parts. We should have pressed the old man for intel before going in. Our desperation made us blind to the obvious pitfalls and our ignorance allowed the enemy to get a leg up on us’.”
Suddenly, his eyes lit up as if he had an epiphany. Putting an enormous paw on Nami’s leg, he gave a few growls before a smirk spread across his muzzle.
Bepo blinked before grinning happily. “He says, ‘Call the doctor, Nami-ya—I have a plan’.”
XXX
One Den Den Mushi call later the trio was back on the beach, waiting anxiously at the destroyed party site. Naturally, they were all cautious and alert, keeping an eye out for venomous snakes, large birds, or other animal attacks that could come charging out of the jungle. After all, the vulture might have demanded a trade, but that didn’t mean he didn’t plan to betray them the moment he got what he wanted.
While Law prowled the jungle perimeter, Bepo built a small fire to keep the evening chill away and provide some extra light.
“Do you smell anything?” Nami asked, shifting her weight from foot-to-foot nervously as she guarded the bags of supplies. She didn’t know all of the details of Law’s plan, but she was positive it would be ruined if the enemy appeared before they could spring the trap.
The two animals shook their heads. “Nothing fresh. I’d recognize the vulture’s scent if it were nearby; he reeked of rotting meat. And Law says he can’t see or smell anything suspicious, either. Seems we’re safe.”
“Well, I don’t trust that to last long. They never gave us a meeting place, so they must be expecting to find us, and this is the most obvious spot.”
There was a curt chuff, which Bepo translated, “‘True, which is why we need to be on our guard and hope the old man doesn’t take too long to get here’.”
She double-checked the bags, which were filled to the brim with supplies. At the top were a pair of Law’s best black leather boots and one of his long coats, reluctantly donated by an extremely grumpy captain. “Is there anything we might be forgetting?”
Law responded with an irritated growl, and Bepo said, “Um, he’s a bit mad that it’s mostly our stuff you’re giving away and none of your own.”
“Well, it’s not like my shoes or clothes would fit him, Law,” she said breezily. “And I doubt he’d be interested in any of my books.”
“He says that everything we need to replace because of this is coming from your paycheck.”
“No, it’s all coming from the money we’ll get from selling the extra antivenom. Do try to keep up with the plan, Law,” she quipped, tossing a smirk over her shoulder.
The tip of his tail flicked back and forth crossly as he growled something under his breath. She noticed Bepo sweating as he busily set about adding more wood to the fire, his fake whistle making it clear he was simply pretending to have not heard whatever was said so he wouldn’t have to translate.
Nami found she didn’t mind that, mainly because arguing with Law just didn’t have the same thrill when he had to speak through a third party. Nor was it as engaging without glaring defiantly up into a pair of smug eyes, watching his mouth twist into a scowl or smirk in response to her verbal barbs. And though they’d never really been shy about fighting in front of other people, having Bepo actually involved felt…wrong. Like he was unwillingly intruding on something intimate.
She shook her head, refusing to dwell on that line of thinking. She needed to focus on the plan and the task at hand, otherwise she might never get to properly fight with Law again, and that would be an absolute tragedy.
The leopard’s ears perked up, and he let out a meow as he loped to Nami’s side, placing his body in front of hers protectively, shoulders tense and ready to pounce should the worst happen. “‘He’s here. I recognize the scent’.”
There was a rustling of leaves, and as predicted, an old man stepped out of the jungle and onto the beach. He was tan, gangly and thin, at least Law’s height, with a tangled white beard that reached his navel. His face was thin and gaunt with prominent wrinkles across his bald head and around his sunken brown eyes. He wore nothing but a pair of tattered trousers and what appeared to be a thin cloak made of woven grass, and while he was muscular from what was likely a physically intensive lifestyle of living in the jungle, Nami could easily count his ribs in the firelight.
She could just as easily count his scars, too—lashes, lacerations, claw marks, and Nami swore she even saw faded evidence of a branding iron. It also appeared that he was missing two of his toes on his left foot, though it was difficult to be sure with the sand and shadows.
Anxiously, he glanced around as if expecting an ambush, though his attention was quickly stolen by Bepo. “I don’t recall turning anyone into a polar bear,” he said suspiciously, stance shifting as if about to bolt back into the jungle, “and where’s that guy I talked to on the phone?”
“Oh, uh, that’s me,” Bepo said, raising his paw helpfully.
He gasped in surprise. “A talking bear?!”
“I’m sorry,” he replied, hanging his head gloomily.
“Wait, bears can’t talk, which means you must be a Mink, yes? I’ve heard about your kind, but I’ve never had the pleasure of encountering one face-to-face!” he said, eyes getting a little starry as he took a few steps closer to get a better look. “Simply magnificent! Look at those claws! And you’ve got actual fingers! Your coat is remarkably glossy, too! Tell me, what’s your daily diet?”
Sweatdrops fell down both Nami’s and Law’s heads at seeing the old man practically fanboy over Bepo. That was…unexpected to say the least. For his part, Bepo was extremely shy and flustered at the sudden positive attention from a stranger.
“Uh, hate to interrupt, but we’re supposed to be having something of a business transaction right now,” Nami said awkwardly.
That seemed to snap the old man out of his fascinated haze and he practically leapt away before coughing into his fist. “Ah, yes, right. Do you have the goods?” he asked, eyeing the bags skeptically. He kept close to the edge of the jungle, one foot back as if he were ready to flee at a moment’s notice.
Treating him like a skittish deer she didn’t want to scare away, Nami carefully began removing items from the satchels, making broad, obvious movements to show she meant no harm. “Most of the stuff on the shipwreck was unusable, so we replaced them with some of our own supplies. We’ve got pots, pans, blankets, canned goods, a can opener, boots…”
Law growled irritably as his clothes were handed over. The old man ignored him, instead admiring the shiny leather in the firelight. “These are high-quality. Normally I’m not fond of wearing animal skin, but beggars can’t be choosers.” He immediately slipped them on, along with the long wool coat, sighing happily as the warmth encased him. “To be honest, I don’t think I’ve worn real shoes in years. The most they ever gave me were sacks to put on my feet, and that was only after I lost a couple little piggies to frostbite,” he said, wiggling his booted toes for emphasis.
Given what she knew of his treatment, it didn’t surprise Nami, though it did further solidify in her mind that those pirates needed a harsher punishment than just being turned into animals.
“We even brought you books from the library!” Bepo said cheerfully, holding up the stack of encyclopedias. “Nami said you were a conservationist, so we thought you’d like these.”
He studied the titles before wrinkling his nose. “Do you have anything else? Maybe a juicy romance novel or historical fiction?”
“What happened to ‘beggars can’t be choosers’?” Nami asked, a little annoyed. If he wanted a specific genre, he should have said something before they’d gone out of their way to haul a pile of thick, heavy books across the water.
Chastised, the old man shrunk back instinctually at her tone. “Ah, I suppose you’re right. It’s just that I simply hate reading my own writing; especially my older works.”
Three jaws dropped as they connected the dots between the ragged man before them and the author of the zoology books they’d spent the evening reading. “Wait, you’re Dr. Monroe?”
“I am indeed, though no one’s called me that in a long time,” he said with a melancholy smile.
Head jerking between the old man and the stack of encyclopedias, Nami found herself both shocked and further infuriated at the pirates on his behalf. He’d been a respected naturalist, someone who’d researched and written detailed books on thousands of animals, and yet he’d been reduced to a prisoner and tool for a monstrous captain’s selfish gain.
Turning the captain into a vulture was an insult to carrion birds.
“I…I’ve got a few novels I could give you, Dr. Monroe,” she said kindly, ignoring the way Law raised his eyebrow at her. She wasn’t sure if it was due to the realization that she might have a juicy romance novel to offer or that she was offering up her own stuff for free. She hoped it was the latter. “I can understand not wanting to reread your old work for the rest of your life. There are plenty of maps I’ve drawn that I just can’t stand to look at anymore.”
“I…well thank you, missy,” Monroe said, genuinely surprised at her generosity.
“Heck, come check out the sub’s library; you can take your pick of anything there!”
Law gave a vicious snarl in response, ears flattening and teeth bared.
“Uh, except for the medical texts,” Bepo explained nervously, making it clear he was giving the significantly more polite version of his captain’s outburst. “Those are off-limits.”
“Oh, don’t worry; medical stuff has never been my cup of tea,” Dr. Monroe assured him, surprisingly less afraid of a large bear or an angry snow leopard than an annoyed young woman. Looking over the bags of supplies, he gave a grateful smile. “Besides, it seems you’ve held up your end of the bargain, and I admit, you’ve gone above and beyond what I expected. Oh! Were you able to find the antivenom?”
Nami’s teeth sunk into her lip as she recalled their failure on the shipwreck. “I’m so sorry,” she said, nails sinking into her palms because of how tightly her fists were clenched. “We had the antivenom, but then this vulture showed up and stole it from us—”
“The captain,” he deduced sadly, visibly deflating. “He gave you an ultimatum, didn’t he? You plan on trading me for it.”
“Sorry,” Bepo answered, hanging his head. “I tried to fight him off, but it was too risky with those glass vials.”
“We don’t want to,” Nami stressed. “I read the captain’s journal. I know what they’ve done to you. But Law’s dying—”
Dr. Monroe held up a trembling hand to silence her. Skinny legs started to tremble while his hands shook, but his eyes were resolute as he looked at the trio. “I understand. I…I guess you have no choice, then. I’ll turn you and your crew human again. A deal’s a deal, and I’d like to have one last moment of moral high ground before those bastards rip me to shreds.”
Quietly prowling forward, a low chuff came from the snow leopard as he looked up at Dr. Monroe with intelligent gold eyes.
Bepo gave a small sigh of relief as he translated, “Law says, ‘It’s good to hear you have a sense of honor. That’s why we’re not handing you over. Turn me human, and we won’t need the antivenom. My powers will take care of it’.”
“You can talk to animals?” Dr. Monroe asked Bepo, shocked and amazed.
“Uh, yeah. Sorry.”
Stars filled his eyes once more as he gazed in awe at the Mink. “Don’t apologize! This is marvelous! Oh, if only I’d had an assistant like you back in my naturalist days—the discoveries you could have helped me make…”
Law took this moment to cough rudely, interrupting the scientist’s daydream.
“Ah, yes, right. Turn you human. Well, if that’ll save your life and keep me from being handed back over to those psychopaths, I’m more than willing to comply.”
With more confidence than Nami would have expected from the old man, Dr. Monroe strode forward, gently placing his hand on Law’s head. There was a shimmer in the air around him, almost like heat in the desert, before the snow leopard began to transform. As his body shifted and changed, Law stood, once again human and on his own two feet.
Human and not wearing a stitch of clothing.
“Oh my god, why are you naked?!” Nami shrieked, hands flying up to cover her eyes as her face turned beet red.
“Because he wasn’t wearing clothes,” Dr. Monroe supplied matter-of-factly.
“Why didn’t you warn us first?!”
“Because on the off-chance that you really do plan to betray me and hand me over to those pirates as a twisted form of revenge, I might as well get the last laugh.”
Scoffing in annoyance, Law said, “Bepo, hand me Kikoku.”
“Shouldn’t you get dressed first?” the Mink asked, though he dutifully retrieved the nodachi from its hiding place behind a tree.
“I’ll take care of it once the venom’s out of my system. See if you can find me something to wear once I’m done.” Nami could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he added, “Don’t worry, Nami-ya; your virgin eyes will be safe soon enough.”
Instinctively she wrenched her hands away to properly glare at him, only for all the color to drain from her face as she witnessed Law’s body parts floating around in the dome of his Room. As they flew about, blood was slowly being drawn out of them, and she could see little particles of what she assumed to be the venom filling the air like a mist.
“I told you not to look, Nami-ya,” he scolded, though humor laced his voice.
She immediately spun around to face the jungle, feeling fairly sick at what she’d just observed. She was suddenly reminded of that time in the alley when he’d drawn the faulty birth control from her bloodstream. Was this what he’d done? She recalled feeling floaty and strange during the procedure. No wonder he’d ordered her to keep her eye closed.
“Monroe-ya,” Law began, unperturbed by his audience, “though I’m not in the habit of helping people who have both massively inconvenienced me and kidnapped my crew, my navigators are sympathetic to your plight. That, and I’m in even less of the habit of giving into the demands of lesser pirates. So, I’m going to take care of your former captors, but I’ll need your expertise to do it.”
“Good god,” Dr. Monroe said, his voice filled with horrified fascination as he unabashedly stared at the unnatural display before him. “What kind of powers do you have?!”
“That of the Ope Ope no Mi. Believe me, you’ll see far more of what I can do before the night’s over. Now, you said the pirates that are still alive are much worse than those we’ve already faced. Tell me what kinds of animals they are.”
He crossed his bony arms, mouth set in a frown that was nearly hidden by his tangled beard. “Besides the Eurasian black vulture, there’s a red spitting cobra, diamondback rattlesnake, hippopotamus, chimpanzee, and wolverine.”
“A cobra?!” Nami shrieked, horrified. She didn’t need one of the zoology books to tell her that was bad news.
Dr. Monroe waved his hand dismissively. “Spitting cobras don’t bite; as the name implies, they spit their venom, which is generally harmless against intact human and mammalian skin. However, you don’t want to get it in your eyes, as if left untreated it may cause chemosis and corneal swelling.”
“Noted. The rattlesnake’s bite is still dangerous though, yes?” Law asked.
“Quite. However, it’s the hippopotamus you should really worry about—naturally aggressive, charges like a tank, thick skin, and powerful jaws. He’s their heavy-hitter. The vulture is their leader and scout, often flying over the island to find me. Meanwhile, the wolverine is extremely ferocious for its size. The chimpanzee’s vicious and crafty, and has the advantage of thumbs, so he’s been able to disassemble several of my traps.”
“It’s a wonder you’re still alive.”
The old doctor shuddered, seemingly recalling the various horrors he’d endured. “I’m sure they’ve been dreaming of ripping me to shreds and feasting on my corpse, but up until now, it’s been too risky. Even if killing me did turn them human again, they’d still be stuck on this island. At least as animals, they didn’t need as much food or shelter. But I knew the moment your submarine showed up in the bay, my days were numbered.”
Nami could now understand why the pirates were so desperate. After all, they were on an island that wasn’t on any map, had a magnetic signal that was too weak to be detected by a log pose, and was basically a death trap for most vessels; this was likely the only chance they’d have to escape before their minds went completely feral. And of course they couldn’t just ask the doctor to turn them back—not after the hell they’d put him through.
Trying to think about anything besides the journal entries, Nami said, “I’m surprised that the snakes and vulture survived considering how little native wildlife there is on the island. You’d think they’d have starved to death after two months.”
Dr. Monroe shook his head. “From what I’ve observed, they’ve been getting by on birds and the rats that escaped the ship, with the occasional baby sea turtle for good measure. And of course, the vulture’s been feasting on the remains of his former companions.”
Once more, she felt ill. She wondered if those rats were the normal kind, or the humans they’d been using for making antivenom. Then again, the journal had said they’d eaten their former cabin boy, so it probably didn’t matter to them.
“What about you?” Law cut in, interrupting Nami’s thoughts. “You’re not as malnourished as I first thought, but you’re still surprisingly skinny considering all the fresh fruit and fish the island provides.”
“The crew goes out of their way to make my life difficult as a petty form of revenge and intimidation tactic,” the old man groused. “I try to fish, but if I stay in one spot for too long, they find me and chase me away. Same with the fruit—the chimpanzee and baboon would steal it for themselves, or otherwise just destroy it to spite me. And of course, whenever I’d make a fire to cook or keep warm, it made finding me so much easier, so they’d typically charge in and destroy my camp.”
“Wait, doesn’t that make having this fire dangerous?” Nami asked, concerned. “They’ll find us in no time!”
“That’s part of the plan, Nami-ya,” Law assured. “They think we’re going to make a trade, so of course they’d expect us to make ourselves easy to find.”
“Here’s a pair of swim trunks, Captain,” Bepo said helpfully, pulling the garment out of the beach bag he’d been rummaging through.
“Thank you,” Law said, and Nami could hear rustling as he slipped into them. “You can look now, Nami-ya, assuming you weren’t already sneaking peeks,” he sniggered.
Despite the glare she threw at him, Nami had to admit it was nice seeing him bipedal and blessedly human again. And though she refused to say it aloud, it was very nice seeing the way the firelight flickered across his taut muscles and reflected in his cunning gold eyes. The shadows cast across his lithe figure made him almost look unreal, and she found herself tempted to touch him to assure herself that her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her.
Of course, Nami had the feeling she didn’t have to voice her appreciation. The way Law smirked knowingly at her blatant staring said it all.
“So, that power of yours really pulled out all the venom?” Dr. Monroe asked, full of scientific curiosity.
Law tore his attention from the feisty thief to the inquisitive naturalist. “Most of it, at least. I’ll still want a shot of that antivenom to ensure I’m completely cured, but I should be out of the woods for the time being.”
A sigh of relief left Nami’s chest. She was so glad Law had decided to actually reason with the old doctor instead of selling him out. She was even more grateful for the fact that, despite what he’d been put through, he wasn’t a malicious person—just a scared one. That had been clear enough when he’d told them about the antivenom and had agreed to wait until they’d gotten it to make the trade, but his willingness to help them even when he thought they were giving him up to his tormentors proved he deserved their help. It seemed that, while the pirates had done their best to turn him into a timid slave, they’d failed to rip away his humanity.
It was why she now had faith in Law’s plan; people like the vulture and his crew never expected people to act altruistically. They’d naturally assume that all pirates were as monstrous as them. They’d never expect their enemies to talk things out like civilized people and come to a mutually-beneficial agreement.
Rubbing his chin in thought, Law continued his line of questioning. “You said you can’t always control what kind of animals you turn someone into—that if they have a strong will, they can overcome it. Yet their whole plan was having you turn people into rare animals.”
“Yes. Most of the time they kidnapped civilians, so it was easy to assert my will over theirs. It’s a bit like Conqueror’s Haki, I suppose; it can dominate weaker people, but the strong can resist it and turn into something else.”
“Ah, that makes sense. Out of curiosity, what were you trying to turn me into?”
“Well,” Monroe said, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment, “I was trying to turn you into a spotted seal. That way, you’d be unlikely to pursue me through the jungle.”
Nami could have laughed at the mental image—Law would have made a very grumpy seal. At least as a snow leopard he was able to maintain some grace and dignity, kitty antics aside. As a seal he’d have to flop around on the beach and make loud barking sounds to communicate.
He seemed to notice the humor on her face as he tossed her a glare before returning his attention to the naturalist. “And you got a snow leopard instead. However, I was able to take out two of your former captors in that form. Which brings me to my plan; did you change any of my crew into creatures that might be good in a fight?”
Dr. Monroe’s eyes lit up in understanding. “Ah, I see; use their transformations to your advantage! Yes, several of them could be quite effective in a fight, but my camp is on the other side of the island—how do you propose we get them before the pirates get us?”
Instead of answering, Law activated his Room, spreading it out across the entire island, eyes closed in concentration. In a blink, the bags and debris left from the party were replaced with an assortment of animals, several looking overjoyed to see their captain again.
Before any of them could raise a ruckus to celebrate their reunion, Law held up his hand for silence. “We don’t have much time; the enemy will be here soon. I was poisoned earlier, and while I’ve removed most of it from my system, they still have the antivenom I need to ensure I’m completely cured. They want us to trade the doctor for it, but as he’s the only one who can turn you all back, we’ve agreed to an alliance.”
Most of the animals appeared concerned at that, but Law continued, “Normally, I’d insist on you all being returned to your human forms first as a precaution, but Dr. Monroe has informed me that several of you have abilities that could be useful. So, I’m going to trust that, no matter what species you are, you’re still my capable, top-notch crew who can handle these beasts. Don’t let me down.”
There was a moment of stunned silence before the crew roared in approval, and Nami found herself smiling at the obvious love and trust they had for their grumpy, morbid captain. Though, honestly, she wasn’t quite certain about this part of the plan—sure, there was a gorilla, what appeared to be a four foot-tall bird, a mongoose, and a bear of some kind, but there were also significantly less-threatening animals like a tapir, a ring-tailed lemur, an armadillo, some kind of weasel, and a walrus.
Turning to the doctor, Law waved him forward. “I need your expertise, Monroe-ya; who should fight, and who should stay back.”
Though he seemed nervous to have the attention of his former hostages suddenly on him, Dr. Monroe looked them over carefully. “Right. Let’s start with the snakes—I’d suggest the mongoose take on the rattlesnake while the secretary bird handles the cobra.”
Looking at the three avians in the group, which included a puffin and a tiny, aggressively-buzzing hummingbird, Bepo pointed at the tall bird with long eyelashes and impressive plumage. “You mean that one?”
“That’s her. Very unique—there’s no other kind of bird like them, so they have their own classification! Most importantly, she’s tall enough to avoid the spitting cobra’s venom, and her stomp is strong enough to snap its spine. She’s like a ninja eagle on stilts!”
The bird puffed up proudly at the description and gave a hoarse croaking sound as she stood beside the mongoose who gave a little salute. Bepo grinned and stated, “Ikkaku says that she and Clione are ready for action!”
Law nodded in approval while Monroe once again looked at the Mink wistfully. “Oh, to have had you as my assistant…”
“Monroe-ya, stop fawning over my navigator,” Law cut in irritably. “We only have so much time to chit-chat. I’m assuming the gorilla will be suitable enough to take on the chimp?”
“Your extremely large friend has the advantage in strength, but that particular chimp is quite clever—he was the crew’s inventor, as it were, which meant he came up with most of their…contraptions,” he said with a shudder. Nami could easily guess he was the one who created the mechanisms used to torture the poor man.
The silverback gorilla grunted something and pointed at a porcupine, who nodded in understanding. “Jean Bart says he’s no idiot himself. In fact, he’s already got an idea for taking him down with Uni’s help.”
“Perfect. Which leaves the wolverine.” A large badger marched forward, glaring up at the doctor. “Hmmm, while a honey badger is remarkably tough, a wolverine is infinitely more aggressive, especially one as hateful as him. I’d suggest you recruit a larger animal for backup.”
Nami pointed to the large bear by the fire. “How about him?”
His wrinkled face twisted in disdain. “Missy, that’s a panda—lazy, stupid, and frankly the bane of my conservation efforts. Every time I requested funding, most it would go to saving them, even though they have absolutely zero survival instincts. I mean, they won’t even mate! Even with a human’s intelligence, I wouldn’t put a single belli on him in a fight.”
“What poor soul got saddled with this pathetic creature?” Law asked, amused when the panda in question scowled at him.
“I believe I heard his companion call him ‘Shachi’.”
Law’s smirk turned absolutely wicked as he approached the bear. “Are you at least still capable of doing kung-fu?”
Stubbornly Shachi tried to strike a fighting stance, only to wobble and fall straight on his ass, unused to his bulk and stubby legs. Pouting at his lack of agility and balance, he crossed his arms and sulkily growled something that could easily be interpreted as “shut up or else.”
The captain’s shit-eating grin showed he was less than impressed. “Oh, how frightening. What are you gonna do, big guy? Sit on me?”
“He says not to tempt him,” Bepo warned, ducking as the hummingbird dive-bombed him furiously. “And Penguin says he hopes you got turned into a sloth or something.”
“My first and second mate are a fat panda and a tiny hummingbird? I’m deeply shamed.”
“Law, for god’s sake, mock them later!” Nami groused, stomping her foot in frustration. She might have faith in his plan, but there wasn’t time to waste on teasing his buddies over their less-than-impressive forms. “We’ve still got a hippo problem!”
Resting his nodachi on his shoulder, he smirked at her over his shoulder. “Relax, Nami-ya. I know exactly which mighty beast in our arsenal can take him out,” he replied, indicating Bepo.
“Who, me?” the Mink asked as he glanced around, certain Law meant someone else.
“While I have no doubt he’s strong, I’m not completely sure a polar bear would win a fight with a hippopotamus,” Dr. Monroe interjected, mouth twisting in concern. “I mean, it’d be fascinating to debate with my old colleagues, but I’d rather not find out first-hand, especially with our lives on the line.”
Smirk widening, Law explained, “Except Bepo’s not some ordinary bear; he’s a Mink. I doubt even a hippo would have much luck against his Electro technique.”
“His what?” Nami asked, eyebrows raising. She knew Bepo was skilled in hand-to-hand combat, but she’d never considered he might have other abilities.
“Electro. It’s a power all Minks are born with,” Bepo explained. “It’s kind of like your Thunderbolt Tempo, except my body generates the electricity. I nearly used it against the vulture when he attacked us, but I couldn’t risk accidentally frying the antivenom. But you’re right, Captain—that hippo won’t stand a chance!” he said excitedly.
She felt a spark of hope. When Law had explained that he had an idea for dealing with the pirates, she’d assumed he’d meant he’d fight them himself. With his powers back he could easily take down the poachers in a second, but instead he was deliberately strategizing around his crew’s new abilities. He was allowing them to feel empowered after what was likely a frightening and frustrating night, while demonstrating his trust in them by letting them handle the situation.
He’d taken her words to heart, and Nami found herself oddly proud of him.
“What about the captain?” Dr. Monroe asked nervously, understandably not sharing her same confidence. “Secretary birds can fly, but she doesn’t have the experience to keep up with him if he tries to flee.”
“Let me worry about the vulture,” Law said dismissively. “I think it’s time we show those third-rate pirates who’s really king of the jungle.”
He turned to the rest of the crew, motioning for them to listen closely. “I know there are several of you who might feel slighted that I’m not requesting you join the battle. I did it not because I don’t have faith in your abilities, but because I have a far more important job for you—protect Nami-ya and the doctor. The enemy will be gunning for him, and if he dies, none of you will ever be changed back. You’re our last line of defense; I’m trusting you to put any grudge aside for the sake of the crew’s wellbeing. And mine.”
Though the leftover crew—which included an otter, raccoon, aye-aye, rabbit, and what appeared to be a deer with fangs—seemed disappointed that they weren’t being called to arms, they immediately perked up at his order. Nami had to admit, it was a good move on Law’s part; it kept the weaker and slower animals from getting hurt without damaging their pride.
Expanding his Room over the island once more, Law stated, “Everyone get in position—I’m bringing the fight to us.”
Nami, Dr. Monroe, and the crew only had a few seconds to comply before a bunch of seashells were replaced with a confused-looking group of animals. Just as the former naturalist had said, there was an enormous hippopotamus, a chimpanzee whose face was crisscrossed with scars, a cobra whose scales were the color of dried blood, and a brown rattlesnake with a striking black diamond pattern on its back. And of course, the black vulture stood at the front, its shoulders hunched as it focused its hateful gaze on Dr. Monroe.
It let out a low hiss as it stepped forward menacingly, only for the Heart crew to gather round their charge, with the walrus in particular using its massive bulk as a shield.
“He says, ‘You know our demands; hand over the doctor and we’ll give you the antivenom’,” Bepo translated helpfully, even as he glared at the angry bird. He wrinkled his snout, the red cut reopening slightly at the movement, the sting serving as a reminder of the last time he’d let the vulture get the drop on them.
With a scoff, Law replied calmly, “I do know your demands. I just don’t give a shit. You attacked my navigator and my cat thief; something I wouldn’t take kindly to, even if you hadn’t stolen the antivenom. I skimmed your journal, too—you’re a real piece of work. I actually have to applaud you for your commitment to being absolute scumbags.” Adjusting his grip on his sword, he gave a slow, mocking clap, his grin turning utterly sadistic as the animals glared daggers at him. “Ah, that feels good. Nothing like clapping your hands to show your contempt. Wings and paws just don’t give the same satisfaction.”
“Law, he’s saying that if you keep doing that, he’s going to peck out the soft flesh of your eyeballs.”
“Is he? Well, guess who has two thumbs and would like to see him try.” He stopped clapping to instead point both his thumbs at himself. “This guy.”
Nami was torn between yelling at Law for his childishness or cheering him on for being just an absolute asshole to a truly deserving piece of shit. She settled on giving an exasperated sigh even as she grinned slightly.
“He’s either extremely arrogant or utterly insane,” Dr. Monroe whispered to her, looking far more worried. Not that she could completely blame him—he didn’t know the Hearts or Law like she did, so this whole affair was much more of a gamble on his part.
Sympathetic, she patted his arm. “Believe me, Doctor, with him there’s no ��or’,” she stated encouragingly.
Infuriated by Law’s disrespect, the vulture let out another hiss, spreading his wings in a grandiose gesture.
“He says ‘You don’t seem to understand the fact that we’re the ones holding the power. You’ve heard of supply and demand, haven’t you’?”
“As a matter of fact, I have. The thing is, you don’t have the supply.” Law held up the backpack, pulling out one of the vials to further emphasize his point.
Five sets of eyes widened as the pirates looked around, making a series of angry hisses and roars when they realized the same power that had teleported them to the beach had also snatched the knapsack right from their claws.
Realizing that they’d lost their advantage, the hippo gave a loud bellow as it charged forward, aiming straight for the doctor, determined to trample any of the animals that might try to get in its way. It didn’t expect Bepo to jump in the way, though, nor for him to grab it by the snout and release a crackling electric attack, blasting it with enough volts to stop it dead in its tracks.
Chaos swiftly broke out. The two snakes attempted to use the hippo’s distraction to sneak around, but the Hearts were prepared for such a maneuver. Ikkaku darted for the cobra, slamming her foot down on its back over and over, pounding it hard into the sand and ignoring its pained hisses until it was sure its spine was well and truly broken. In contrast, Clione used his agility to avoid the rattlesnake’s swift lunge, sinking his teeth deep into its neck at the base of the skull so it couldn’t fight back, holding on tightly while it writhed and slowly bled out.
In contrast, the chimp didn’t even get that far. Jean Bart grabbed Uni and gently tossed him to the smaller ape, who foolishly reached out to catch him. The porcupine’s sharp, barbed quills pierced the chimp’s hands, and Uni smacked him in the face with his tail for good measure. With his opponent suitably distracted and unable to use his hands, Jean Bart grabbed the chimpanzee and put him in a headlock, his muscular arms easily choking him out.
Meanwhile, the wolverine’s fight with Crozier was much less one-sided. It managed to sink its teeth into Crozier’s skin which, while his thick and loose hide protected him from the powerful jaws, left him pinned. However much to everyone’s surprise, Shachi lumbered over and swiped at the wolverine with his claws. On instinct the smaller mammal released Crozier, who took the opportunity to shuffle back, glancing up at the panda curiously. With a grunt that was likely some clever quip, Shachi turned around and sat down hard onto the wolverine, crushing it beneath his mass.
“Well, that was unexpected,” Law stated, blinking in surprise but sounding mildly impressed at his old friend’s contribution to the fight.
Seeing his comrades get taken down so easily by what should have been lesser animals clearly threw the vulture for a loop. He beat its wings, preparing to take to the air, when something small and quick shot forward. A horrific hiss of agony escaped him as Penguin furiously stabbed him in the eye with his needlelike beak.
Catching the two birds in his Room, Law Shambled Penguin over to his side before drawing Kikoku, vivisecting the vulture.
As the scavenger bird lay on the ground in pieces, showing as much terror as a creature like him could, Law looked at Dr. Monroe over his shoulder. “Considering how he tortured you for, what, two years? I’m open to requests regarding his fate. Shall I throw him into the fire and make roast vulture? Pluck his feathers to make a hideous hat? Feed him to the sharks?”
The naturalist appeared conflicted. His chapped lips were set in a frown while his wrinkled, sunburned brow furrowed. His eyes darted across the fallen forms of his former tormentors, internally mulling over Law’s offer.
“It’s ok if you don’t want to kill him,” Nami assured, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.
Dr. Monroe gave a little huff before shaking his head. “Oh, no, I want him dead. I want all of them dead. These bastards destroyed my life, killed my friends, and have put me through hell. It’s just…well, I simply hate seeing an animal in pain. I’m starting to regret transforming him. I suppose I’m still a conservationist at heart.”
She blanched, but she supposed she couldn’t blame him. After all, she wouldn’t have complained if Luffy had actually killed Arlong instead of merely defeating him. She just wouldn’t have openly admitted it, either.
“Well, if you don’t have any preferences, I suppose I’ll just help along the Circle of Life,” Law said, expanding the bubble to encase the other fallen animals.
“Tact.”
The former poachers were levitated into the air before being flung out across the cove, beyond the reef and rocks to land with a splash into the ocean. Nami wasn’t sure which would be a kinder fate—drowning or being eaten by sharks.
Either way, the battle had been won.
“We did it, Captain!” Bepo cheered, embracing him tightly. “Your plan worked perfectly!”
“Only because I had a capable crew to execute it,” Law said, smiling faintly as he allowed the happy Mink to cuddle him. The rest of the crew quickly surrounded him, chattering and squawking loudly in celebration.
Dr. Monroe, meanwhile, stood at the edge of the water and stared out at the spot where his former captors had been deposited.
“You ok?” Nami asked, standing beside him.
“Sorry. I suppose I’m just trying to process everything that’s happened. They…they’re really gone, aren’t they?” he asked, voice barely more than a whisper.
“They are. It’ll take some time for that fact to really sink in, but it’ll happen. I’ve got some experience in that department,” she said ruefully.
“Do the nightmares ever go away? The memories of what you’ve done to survive?”
Nami mulled over whether to tell him the truth or comfort him with a lie. Eventually, she settled on saying, “Not completely, but it gets easier. What’s important is that they didn’t completely take away your humanity. And now you’re free to live as you please.”
“You’re right. Thanks, missy,” he replied with a small smile. “And…and I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve put you and your friends through. You’re good folk. Well, your captain’s a little sick in the head, but there aren’t many pirates out there that would help someone like me the way you did.”
“There really aren’t. I don’t blame you for being scared. Hell, it took me way longer to warm up to them. So, what are you going to do now?”
“Stay here and live a peaceful retirement. Study the birds and sea turtles. I figure I’ve only got a few more years left, so why not enjoy it in a tropical paradise where no one can bother me?”
With a wide grin, Nami replied, “Sounds perfect for a guy like you.”
They were interrupted by a low squawk, and the pair turn around to find Ikkaku looking at them inquisitively.
“I’m not gonna lie, Ikkaku, I’m wholly jealous of your eyelashes right now,” Nami said, studying the bird’s face. She got a playful bat of her eyes in response before she jerked her head over at Dr. Monroe, tilting her head in question. “He’s ok. He’s just…got some damn good reasons to mistrust pirates. I’ll fill you in later.”
She nodded before indicating the rest of the group, her question clear; “can we turn back now?”
“Yeah, we should take care of that before something else crazy happens. This has been the worst vacation ever.”
She got a squawk in agreement, to which Dr. Monroe muttered an embarrassed apology. Nami turned towards Law, who was chatting with Shachi and Bepo over by the fire.
“You actually sat on him. I’m not sure if I should be impressed or appalled.”
Bepo frowned as Shachi grunted something. “What do you mean you got the idea from me?! Law’s the one who suggested it!”
The panda let out another grunt, which made Bepo droop. “Yeah, you’re right. I��m sorry.”
“Uh, guys, can we hurry up and get everyone back to normal before Bepo has to change his job to full-time animal whisperer?” Nami asked, strolling over.
“I suppose it is time for Monroe-ya to make good on his end of the deal,” Law replied.
The doctor grinned. “Absolutely. You kids have done me a huge kindness. If you’d never shown up, I’d still be plagued by those bastards. Now I can hopefully live out my days in peace. I think I’m looking forward to a nice, quiet hermit life.”
“Well, the sooner you change back my crew, the sooner you can get started on that.”
“Gotcha. Though, I gotta say, I kind of envy you—I can’t transform myself, so I’ve never been able to experience what it’s like. And you,” his eyes lit up, “were a snow leopard! One of the most beautiful and mysterious creatures I ever had the privilege to study! I sure as hell wouldn’t have minded trading places with you.”
“It had its pros and cons,” he admitted reluctantly, eyes flicking towards Nami. “Though I’m sure I’d despise it by daybreak—all that fur on a summer island would have been hell.”
Dr. Monroe’s eyes widened in understanding and chagrin. “Ah! I hadn’t even thought of that! You’re right; we should get you all back to your human selves before any of you get heat stroke.” He turned to some of the furrier crewmembers, giving a deep, apologetic bow. “I’m so sorry; I should have turned you all into animals more suited to the climate. I’m also truly sorry for keeping you in cages, and for ruining your vacation.”
Shachi grunted something which made Bepo frown. “Hey, it’s not Law’s fault that he got turned into something cool and you didn’t!”
The panda growled and crossed his arms.
“What’s wrong with being a bear?!”
Another grunt, and Bepo hung his head. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
Watching the exchange, Law frowned at his second mate’s bullying before he got a wicked look in his eye. “Monroe-ya, how many people can you change back at a time?”
The old doctor lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. “As many as I can touch or can touch me. I can probably get your whole crew back to normal in a few rounds.”
He indicated the panda. “Make sure Shachi’s in the first wave, then. I’d hate for him to make good on his threat of sitting on me, after all.”
Bepo nodded in agreement before a thought seemed to strike him as he glanced around at the crew with concern. “Um, Law, shouldn’t we wait—”
He immediately shushed Bepo. “It’s almost morning and they’re all impatient to become human again, right? I’d say we should get a move on.”
Nami sighed. She knew what he was doing, and part of her was tempted to stop him—the crew’d suffered enough that evening—but after everything that had happened throughout the night, she had to admit Law could probably use a laugh. And Shachi definitely deserved this for being mean to Bepo. So, she simply ushered Ikkaku to the side and whispered, “Don’t look—trust me.”
A moment later, about a half-dozen indignant yelps rang out, prompting Nami to chuckle and roll her eyes as Ikkaku looked up at her in confusion.
“I want you to remember the next time you decide you want to pull an embarrassing prank on me that I did not allow you to be seen naked by the rest of your crew.”
Secretary birds couldn’t make much by way of shocked expressions, but Ikkaku’s eyes definitely widened in understanding before nodding emphatically.
XXX
“Please tell me you’re not making coffee.”
Law glanced up at Nami as he reached into the fridge. “Relax; I’m making myself some warm milk to help me sleep. I’ve had an exhausting few days if you recall. So has everyone else, really.”
She couldn’t argue that. After the crew had been returned to their original forms, Nami had expected Law would make them leave right away, but he’d allowed them to spend a few more days on the island. Ostensibly it was so he could recover from the residual effects of the venom and finally collect the aloe he’d been looking for, but she suspected he was giving them all a little more time to relax considering the unexpected direction the trip had gone.
However, several of the crew had used that time to make sure Dr. Monroe was set for his much-desired new life as a free man and hermit. Upon hearing the doctor’s story, Jean Bart had been especially sympathetic and had strong-armed Seiuchi and Malamute into helping build a cozy cabin and permanent campsite. Cousteau had been kind enough to donate some of his fishing equipment and Crozier had given a bunch of tips for surviving in the wilderness, though his experience was admittedly more geared towards arctic survival than jungle.
Surprisingly, the Heart Pirates grew rather fond of their former captor. He and Cousteau had quickly bonded over a mutual love of nature. When he’d seen the greenhouse plans, he’d happily given his input, as he’d worked with many notable horticulturists. By the end of the second night, Penguin was laughing while telling the embarrassing tale of how he’d been trapped under his own hat upon being transformed. Even Law had warmed to him, as they’d conferred over better ways to treat Bepo’s injuries.
When they sailed away, Dr. Monroe had tearfully seen them off, though Shachi had joked that he was just sad he hadn’t managed to recruit Bepo as his new research assistant.
Yes, it had been a busy few days, but instead of being snuggled up in bed, Nami found herself in the galley watching Law pour milk into a saucepan.
“Tch. We’re tragically low on cookware. Ermine must have given the old man more of their stuff. I’m beginning to think recruiting you was a terrible idea—you’re turning my men into a bunch of charitable fools,” he said with a scowl.
Nami rolled her eyes as she poured herself a glass of orange juice. “Oh, hush—he more than paid for their labor with the antivenom.”
“Labor and supplies. He seemed especially happy to raid my library. By the way, were you able to provide him with any ‘juicy romance novels’?”
She attempted to hide her blush behind her glass. “No. Don’t be ridiculous.”
A midnight blue eyebrow raised along with the corner of his mouth. “Then I wonder where that racy paperback I found him gleefully reading on the beach came from?”
Pink deepened to red as she bit her tongue. Law realizing that she read erotic novels was nearly as bad as the fact that she was going to have to buy a third copy of To Catch A Turtle Dove. “It’s a mystery that may never be solved.”
“Pity. I was hoping the owner might be able to give me some advice on seducing you.” He gave a long, appreciative leer at her sleepwear; a pink spaghetti-strap tank top and matching booty shorts that definitely didn’t leave much to the imagination where her curves were concerned. “After all, you’re looking especially tempting tonight.”
“I think I liked it better when you couldn’t talk,” she groused, chugging her juice.
“Well, if it wasn’t the stimulating conversation, what brings you here, Nami-ya?” he asked, critically glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.
She tried to give a casual shrug, only to wince as a twinge of pain shot through her back. “I wanted a drink. That, and I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, rubbing her shoulder. “My back’s sore from when I crashed through the deck of the shipwreck. Add on all the hard work from the past couple days and I’ve gotten kind of stiff.”
“Do you need something for the pain?”
She waved off his concern. “I’m not seriously hurt and Ikkaku already got me a few aspirin; I’m just waiting for them to kick in. Sure wish she hadn’t already fallen asleep, though—I’d kill for another one of her massages,” she laughed. Ikkaku would probably do it, though; upon learning that her modifications to the Clima-Tact had made it harder to control, the mechanic had basically shut herself up for the past few days attempting to fix it. It was clear she felt guilty, even though Nami had assured her that there were no hard feelings.
“She does give exceptionally good ones,” Law stated, reaching into one of the cupboards. While he was distracted, Nami took a moment to cast an admiring glance at his once-more human form. He really was very lithe and muscular, especially when he deigned to wear a tank top instead of his usual sweatshirt. The tattoos decorated his long arms so beautifully, too, the swirls of the hearts in particular drawing her eye. And while his fur had been wonderfully soft, she found she rather preferred the dark blue of his hair and goatee contrasting with his olive skin.
“See something you like, sweetheart?”
Grateful that she’d gotten better at suppressing her blush, she gave a casual shrug. “Just glad you’re human again, though I kinda miss the ears and tail. They were so soft and fluffy,” she cooed, giving an exaggeratedly wistful sigh.
“They would have been hell on my reputation, though,” he said bluntly, taking the milk off the stove. “I’d be mocked or fawned over constantly, so my body count would at least double. And that’s assuming there aren’t any other side-effects to my brief feline phase.”
As he spoke, he carefully poured the steaming milk into a saucer. Nami’s eyes popped as he lifted it to his mouth and, instead of drinking it like a normal person, began lapping it up with his tongue.
Kyaaaaaaa! she mentally shrieked, ready to run to the control room to demand they head back to Cousteau Island—Dr. Monroe had assured everyone that they hadn’t been animals long enough for it to have affected their minds, but clearly Law had sustained some kind of kitty brain damage!
Those fears were immediately quashed when gold eyes flicked up to her, a mischievous smirk curling his lips.
“Oh, you asshole,” she growled, sorely tempted to smack him over the head for his stupid prank. “You’re lucky I don’t have you neutered.”
He let out a little chuckle at her annoyed expression, tipping back the saucer to finish off the last of the milk. “You could try, but I’d easily reattach them. That, and I can assure you, you’ll want those particular…parts of me intact.”
She rolled her eyes at his arrogance but decided this wasn’t an argument worth continuing. Instead she occupied herself with cleaning and putting away her glass, ignoring his expectant look as she refused to take the bait or get embarrassed at his suggestive teasing.
“So, Law, I hope you learned an important lesson from this little adventure?” she asked, rolling her shoulders in hopes of loosening the muscles.
“To appreciate having the use of actual hands. Never again will I take them for granted,” he answered bluntly, admiring his tattooed fingers like they were the most valuable treasure on the Grand Line.
“I was going to say ‘to put trust in your crew’ but I guess that’s true, too,” she replied with a shake of her head. “I get that you’re a control freak, but really, was it so hard to stand back and let someone else fight for you? To trust in someone else’s judgement and abilities?”
“Are you really still lecturing me about this?” he asked, jaw twitching in irritation.
“I’ll stop so long as you get it through your head that you’re not some all-powerful deity that needs to watch over us weak, stupid mortals.”
He chuckled slightly at her description and twirled his finger in a circle, indicating that she turn around. Curious, she obeyed, jumping slightly when she felt his calloused palms gently rest on her bare shoulders. However, any resistance she might have shown was swiftly vanquished when he proceeded to press his fingers into the tense muscles, rubbing small circles against her back to ease the hard knots he found there.
“Ikkaku may be the better masseuse, but she taught me a thing or two,” he murmured as he firmly dragged his thumbs down the length of her spine. “Tell me if anything hurts.”
Nami couldn’t stop herself from arching her back, groaning happily as she felt a satisfying pop. His touch was warm and sure, applying just the right amount of pressure to the points of her back that had grown stiff and sore due to their last adventure. The pads of his fingers worked in tight circles along her rhomboid muscle, easing the tension that had made sleeping so uncomfortable. “Ok, yeah, I’m beginning to appreciate your hands too. Almost makes up for the talking,” she moaned as he switched to long dragging motions downwards.
“I’ll admit, being a snow leopard was a unique experience,” he purred, rubbing his thumbs in small circles along her lower back, gradually increasing the pressure with each rotation to coax her tight muscles to loosen. “Frustrating as the circumstances were, having such heightened senses was a hell of an experience. My eyesight and hearing were keener than you could even imagine but having such a powerful sense of smell was absolutely fascinating.”
“Really? I thought you were annoyed that you couldn’t track scents?” she asked, tilting her head to the side as his skilled fingers began working up her neck, massaging the sensitive flesh at the base of her skull.
“That had to do with my inexperience. But the scents themselves were just so enhanced. It was like I’d gone around wearing a surgical mask my whole life, and I was taking it off for the first time!”
Nami had to smile a bit at his enthusiasm. She supposed it had to do with him being a doctor—having such keen senses for the brief period of time must have shown him just how limited humans were, and he was probably wondering if he could replicate any of it through his medical procedures.
Which, honestly, was pretty creepy, but also kind of charming in its own way.
Hot breath fanned against her ear as he murmured, “And I must say, Nami-ya, you in particular smelled absolutely delicious.”
She blanched, remembering the way he tore into those steaks in the infirmary. “You were thinking about eating me?” she shrieked, trying to jerk away.
He let out a low chuckle as he spun her around, pulling her against him so their chests were pressed flush together as his hands rested on her waist. “Hmmm, not in the way you’re thinking, though it’d be what you deserved after taking such blatant advantage of me.”
She was too flabbergasted to blush. “Excuse me?”
Tongue clucking like he was scolding a naughty child, he explained, “There I was, laying on the examination table, dying from a deadly snake bite, and you simply couldn’t help yourself; you just had to put your hands all over me.”
“I—what—you—you nuzzled me!” she defended, poking him in the sternum.
“I was offering you comfort, and you took that to mean you could fondle me? For shame, Nami-ya.”
She stared at him, flustered and aghast. “Are you seriously complaining? You were practically begging me to touch you!”
“I never gave you any kind of verbal consent, though.”
“The way you were practically melting into my hands said plenty.”
A wicked grin spread across his face, and she intuitively knew she’d walked right into his trap. Before she could attempt to wiggle away, he used the muscular length of his body to pin her against the counter.
“Let me go, Law,” she snapped, though she couldn’t quite hold back a groan as his skillful fingers once more worked at the tight knot of muscles that had formed between her shoulders.
“Mmm, are you seriously complaining? You’re practically begging me to touch you.”
“You’re such an ass.”
“And you’re such a tease,” he whispered, nipping the shell of her ear. “Don’t even try to deny you’re enjoying this; the way you’re practically melting into my hands says plenty.”
Said hands strayed down to cup her rear, giving a playful squeeze before backing up just long enough to hoist her up onto the counter, stepping between her legs so she couldn’t kick out at him. “Consider it positive reinforcement. I did go out of my way to give my crew the chance to save the day, plus I helped an old man who I really should have tossed into the sea along with his captors for daring to attack my crew in the first place.” Pressing his nose to her neck, he inhaled her scent. “You pet me, so I’m petting you. I’m just taking what I’m owed.”
“You—”
“Or I could demand monetary compensation for all the supplies you gave away.”
Her jaw dropped and she angrily smacked him on the head. “The antivenom will pay for those!”
“Yes, but not until we actually sell it,” he growled, grabbing her wrist and pinning it to the counter. “I should really be making you pay in the meantime. Instead, I’m being nice and letting you off the hook in exchange for sitting still while I have some fun.”
The angry retort she intended to make died in her throat as he pulled her flush against him, burying his face against her neck while his hands roamed her sides, grasping and squeezing the soft flesh beneath them. The soft sensation of his warm mouth brushing against her sensitive throat made her shiver, though it turned into a full-bodied jolt when he bit down slightly and massaged the firm meat of her ass.
She prepared to strike him again, but something stayed her hand. Law was groping and mouthing at her skin, but it didn’t feel sexual. Or at least, not nearly as much as it usually did. It wasn’t electric and coaxing, nor was it hot and dominating. It was desperate, but not in a way that said he wanted to ravish her on the counter. It was clingy, needy. Like a freezing man seeking warmth. Or like he had awoken from a vivid nightmare and needed some kind of contact to prove he was back in the real world.
“Law, what’s really on your mind?” she asked, confused and concerned.
“Nothing. I’m just enjoying the chance to feel up a beautiful woman,” he replied bluntly, giving her pale thighs a suggestive squeeze.
Pressing her hands against his chest, she pushed him back enough to get a good look at his face. Brown eyes met gold, and for a moment, his expression wasn’t that of the smug pirate captain, but of a worn-out young man. “Bullshit. I know your style; you like to tease through subtle touches. You’ve only blatantly groped me when you had to put on a show for Drake or Smoker. And since we don’t have an audience, there has to be another reason.”
His face twisted as he internally debated giving her a straight answer versus brushing her off. She could practically see him composing a list of pros and cons. So, Nami sat there quietly, refusing to back down but not pushing.
Finally, he said with a scowl, “Maybe I’m doing it because, powers or not, getting you flustered is something I can control. And maybe I spent an evening dying of snake venom wondering if I’d ever experience human contact again.”
She suddenly remembered how on-edge he’d been during his ordeal as a snow leopard. How he’d been pacing while she and Bepo had been retrieving the antivenom. Nervously checked over their injuries and snapped at them when they pointed out his limitations. How hard he pushed himself making his plans for Atifakuto because he didn’t know what to expect and felt he couldn’t leave anything to chance.
He wasn’t touching her because he wanted to mess with her. He wasn’t even flirting. Law was simply desperate for comfort but was too proud to ask for it. So he went for the next best thing.
“Being a leopard really scared you, didn’t it?” Nami asked softly. The coarse hairs of his sideburns tickled the soft skin of her palm as she cupped his cheek. “I get it; not having your powers must be terrifying. Especially for someone like you Captain Doesn’t-Sleep-for-a-Week-Because-He’s-Obsessively-Planning. But we had your back, didn’t we?”
Despite himself, Law leaned into her touch, all but nuzzling her hand. “…it’s been a long time since I’ve felt that helpless. It was more than not having my powers. I was slowly dying, and yes there was a cure, but the last time someone put their life on the line for me like that, they died, and there was nothing I could do to save him.” He averted his gaze, though she could still see the haunted look in his eyes. “When you and Bepo went to salvage the wreck, all I could think about was all the ways you two could die. If you failed, not only would I die powerless and alone, but the rest of the crew would be doomed. And there was nothing I could do about it.”
Hearing that, Nami found herself feeling much more sympathetic towards the Dark Doctor’s obsessive tendencies. He’d experienced enough pain and hardship to make him paranoid about losing people, and took on so much because when things went wrong, he was far too likely to blame himself.
The soft pad of her thumb rubbed soothingly against his cheekbone, just under the dark bag beneath his eye. “I’m sorry, Law. I still think you’re a massive control freak but…I get it.” She really did. He clung to control as desperately as she clung to freedom and money. He grew up without it, lost someone he cared for because of that, and was loathed to let it go.
Without thinking, she pressed a comforting peck to his forehead before giving him a warm, gently teasing smile. “Next time you’re turned into a snow leopard, I promise to be a bit more considerate.”
That coaxed a wry half-smile from him. “If Monroe-ya ever does that again, I’m demanding he make you one, too. After all, a conservationist like himself could surely see how beneficial it could be to his repopulation efforts—”
“And we’re done,” Nami groaned, pushing him away. It was easily done, too, with Law stepping back with little prompting, making it clear that he would have let her go if she’d shown any real resistance.
Jumping down from the counter, she started towards the door, only to pause at his side. Nimble fingers wrapped around his wrist and gave it a comforting squeeze. “Get some sleep Law, ok? Your capable crew needs their powerful, scheming captain at his best.”
Though there was no smile on his face, his eyes were warmer, and he seemed more at ease. “I suppose they do. You should get some sleep, too; I need my cat thief ready for the job I have in mind.”
“And what job is that?”
“To help me win an auction for a vase laced with one of the deadliest poisons in the world.”
#fic: welcome to the heart pirates#lawna#lawna fanfic#lawnami#trafalgar law x nami#lawxnami#heart pirate nami#heart pirates#trafalgar D. Water Law#trafalgar law#op fanfiction#op fanfic#One Piece Fanfiction#one piece nami#cat thief nami#tw: animal attack#tw: animal harm#tw: animal death#tw: animal injury#one piece bepo#bepo#straw hat nami#one piece fanfic#leopard law
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
Part 15! Previous here. Masterlist here.
Tag list: @quirkykayleetam, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @burtlederp; @paradigmparadoxical @theycomeinthrees @miss-kitty-whumptastic, @looptheloup, @teachunks
The terrain for the rest of the day was a little rough. What paths they found seemed to be made by wild goats or deer, rather than people.
“So, according to the map,” Everet said, dropping down the other side of the boulder he’d stepped up onto, “This streambed should lead us into some farmland, and eventually a settlement of some kind. Village, hamlet, something like that.”
“Yeah?” Galen said absently, looking down at him from the small slope. He slid down with a scrabble of small pebbles and dirt, catching himself with one hand on the stone.
“We can get supplies there – at the village, if we don’t find a farmhouse on the way,” Everet said, turning to keep going. “It looked like half a day’s travel.” He stopped, and forced himself to revise his estimate. “Well. A day, maybe two days at most.”
Just because Galen didn’t complain, didn’t mean Everet could keep on setting a pace for templar stamina. This last stretch was kind of rough going. He’d have tried to find higher ground and an easier path if he hadn’t been worried about losing the stream, which was the only landmark he felt certain of anymore.
“I know you said you didn’t need a healer, but if they have one it might be worth it,” Everet said. “Definitely we can get some food, some better clothing for you. I don’t have much coin but I think I can cover that.”
“I don’t – have anything,” Galen said, almost apologetic, as if Everet had been expecting him to have a purse stashed on him somewhere after the events of the last weeks.
“I can cover it,” Everet repeated. “After that, I suppose we can… regroup. Decide what to do next.” Everet ducked under a low-hanging tree branch, easing it back down carefully so it didn’t spring back and catch Galen when he let it go. He paused and waited for the mage to get under the branch and catch up. “We shouldn’t stay long in the village, though. It’s probably not safe to stay anywhere. At least until… well, until a week is up, I guess. Let’s pause here for a minute.”
Galen nodded, pushing a sweaty strand of hair out of his eyes. He gratefully sank down onto a flat-topped stone.
They sat in companionable silence for a few moments. The birdsong crept back in around them; or maybe that was just Everet hearing the lyrium again. Being this close to the stuff was… unnerving. Even stuffed in the bottom of Everet’s pack, he could hear it. It made the inside of his head itch.
He ignored it in favour of getting out the water canteen, taking a measured drink, and passing it to Galen.
“And after the village?” Galen asked Everet, as he capped the canteen again. “Where do you think you’ll go?”
Everet stared down at the stones and grass between his booted feet.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I thought I’d seek out a Chantry. Find somebody in charge who’s still sane and throw myself on their mercy. But…”
Up until they’d opened the chest, it had all been ‘if’. If he could survive long enough, what would he do, where would he go? The templars or the Chantry were the only real option he’d had if he wanted to survive, but that might mean another band just like the last.
But now… Everet was carrying a fortune in lyrium. He had more choices.
Everet ran his fingers through the hair over his temples, shaking his head. I don’t know. Galen watched him, silently, thoughtfully. He didn’t speak to try and fill the gap.
“One thing I do know - I want out of the Hinterlands,” Everet said, sudden conviction welling up. “This place is… I mean, I’m sure it was nice enough before the whole templar army chased the mages here, but now… fuck, I want out and I never want to see it again.”
There was too much death here. Too much violence, and Everet had been the perpetrator of enough of that violence that maybe it was grossly unjust of him to feel this way. But Redcliffe was full of mages, and the hills were full of templars, and as long as that was the case the Hinterlands would never, ever be safe or peaceful.
Galen gave him a quick glance that seemed to understand more than Everet was capable of saying. “Me too,” he said quietly.
“Well,” Everet said, getting to his feet. He smacked dust from his hands and thighs cheerfully, feeling his spirits rising. “In that case, it looks like we’re going the same way. If we’re both in agreement, our plan is to resupply at the next village, get our bearings, and chart ourselves a path out of the Hinterlands. We can figure the rest out as we go. Sound good?”
“Yeah,” Galen agreed easily, standing up. “Sounds good.”
Everet returned to clearing them a way through the undergrowth, feeling heartened. Straightforward, achievable goals. Get to the village, resupply, find a way out of the Hinterlands and into the South Dales. Everet could do those things.
He’d figure out what he’d do next once he’d achieved those.
It might be safer, he thought, tearing aside a sheet of vines that obscured the footing ahead of him, if Everet went into the village alone. At least until he got Galen some less suspicious clothes.
Then again, the common folk also had reasons to distrust templars. Perhaps Everet should leave his more obviously templar gear stashed somewhere? He didn’t want to sell it, unless he had to, but it was probably unwise to go around wearing it…
“Hey – um – ”
Everet paused. “Sorry. Need a break?” he called over his shoulder.
“No. I was just thinking…” There was an odd, diffident tone to the mage’s voice. “We don’t… have to travel together. Just because we’re going in roughly the same direction.” When Everet turned to look at him, he was staring down at the ground, his face set. “We could part ways after resupplying at the village, if you’d prefer.”
“I – oh,” Everet said, surprised. He rearranged his thoughts, hastily.
Everet should have asked instead of assuming.
After… everything, Everet thought, with a queasy, guilty flip of his stomach. Galen might feel safer travelling alone than travelling with a templar. Can you blame him?
Galen was quiet, closed-in, standing with arms folded and eyes down submissively. Did he expect Everet to object? In the old days Everet would have needed to take Galen back to whatever Circle he’d come from, whether he went quietly or not. There was no point even pretending to entertain that possibility now, but…
Everet rocked back on his heels, scrubbed a hand through his hair. He chose his words carefully. “If that’s what you’d prefer. It was just a suggestion. It’s just, even besides the fact we might be being followed, people here aren’t all that friendly to mages or templars anymore. So I thought it’d be safer. That’s all. I thought you might like – ” He coughed, looked away. Might like what? More reminders of what happened? Somebody to tell you what to do? “Look, I’m not your keeper or anything, you can leave whenever you want. I won’t try and stop you.”
“It’s not that I want – ” Galen shook his head, fiercely. “Fff. Damn it.”
“What?”
Galen shrugged, his arms still miserably crossed. “I don’t want to part ways yet – you’re right, it’s safer – but –”
Everet frowned. “But…”
“I don’t want you to feel obligated,” Galen burst out. “You’ve been… amazing. Like I said. But you don’t have to feel like you’re lumbered with me forever now, just because you rescued me once.”
“Who’s being lumbered with you?” Everet said, confused. “I never said – ”
“No, you didn’t, you don’t have to!” Galen uncrossed his arms enough to make a frustrated gesture. “I can’t – you obviously feel it’s your responsibility to get me to civilisation, and find me clothes and food, and all that, and I’m grateful because Maker knows I’d struggle on my own. But you don’t have to keep on doing that. You don’t have to slow yourself down to escort me out of the Hinterlands. If you want to go to a Chantry you should, and not have to worry about me.”
“Oh,” Everet said, lamely. “You – you aren’t afraid of me, then?”
Galen looked up, seeming startled, blinking at Everet from under his hair. “Afraid of you? No. You saved me.”
The two of them stared at each other, awkwardly.
Everet found an embarrassed half-smile. He started to turn back towards the path. “Look, you can leave if you want, but I think it makes the most sense to travel together. For both of our sakes. Let’s just… get ourselves to civilisation. All right?”
When Galen followed, Everet deliberately slowed his steps so they could walk abreast. Or what passed for abreast, on this goat-track – Everet a half-step ahead and turning back occasionally. It didn’t make for easy conversation.
“Look, you don’t have to pretend I won’t be a burden,” Galen said after a few moments. “I’m not an idiot. You’ll do a hell of a lot better out here on your own than I will, it’s obvious you don’t need me.”
Everet tried to keep his eyebrows from climbing. “Oh, will I?” he managed to ask. “Galen… I don’t know who or what you think I am, but maybe I better come clean. I don’t have the foggiest idea what I’m doing.” He kicked at a clump of leaves on their path. “I don’t have a plan. I don’t know where I’m going to go.”
“Yeah, but you can live out here,” Galen said. “I’m… helpless. You’re not.”
Everet frowned. “Can I? Sure, I can defend myself, but I don’t know how we’re going to eat once the next week is up.”
“At least you have skills!” Galen said, heatedly. “You can – hire yourself out as a soldier, or you’re strong enough to do some other sort of work. I have nothing.” He gestured angrily with one scabbed-up arm, his voice rising. “Before the Circles fell, Everet, I had never left their walls for most of my life. I can’t do anything!”
“You can do magic,” Everet pointed out.
Galen gave him a furious, bitter look. “Oh yes, wonderful. I can definitely use that to make a living. Sounds nice and safe!”
Everet winced. That had been kind of insensitive.
He let the silence simmer awkwardly for a minute, tramping heavily though the undergrowth, while he tried to put together the right words. The Maker had not called Everet for his eloquence.
“Listen. I know it’s dangerous out here for you,” he said hesitantly. “And I hear what you’re saying, about… about not having skills.” He pointed with one thumb back upstream. “But the truth is, I’d have been toast back there without you. That’s not nothing.”
Galen sighed. His thin shoulders were still tense, hunched. “Mm. We won’t be fighting templars all the time, though. I’m... I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
“I sure hope we won’t,” Everet said. He sighed. “But… Look, Galen, I know you feel like you’re going to slow me down, but travelling with me isn’t going to be a picnic either.” The lyrium hummed and weighed heavily in his pack. “We’re both going to be burdens in our own ways. And I don’t care. Forget obligations, have you considered that I might actually want to travel with you?”
Galen was silent.
“I mean, I’m not exactly used to being on my own, so company would be welcome. Particularly company like you. We get along all right, so far, and you’re – you’re resourceful and clever, and damn tough, and maybe it’d be nice for us to have each other’s backs! You know?”
“Oh,” was all Galen said.
Everet looked over at him. The mage was staring straight ahead, not meeting Everet’s eyes. But slowly, as Everet watched, his shoulders dropped and his head came up. There was a flush of colour over his cheeks, bright pink underneath a crusted-over cut.
Everet must be walking too fast for him again; he’d never say anything. Everet slowed his stride, trying to do it subtly enough that the mage wouldn’t notice.
Their feet crunched leaves, not quite in step with each other.
“So what do you say?” Everet asked. “I’d like us to stick together for a little longer, if you’re not bothered by me. At least until we get out of the Hinterlands?”
Galen glanced at him, and away, and back – and smiled.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’d like that.”
#dragon age whump#Galen#everet#Dragon age fic#mages and templars#caretaking#aftermath of whump#sucessful escape attempt#yes Everet that is definitely why Galen's face is pink#A+ deduction#my stuff
13 notes
·
View notes
Note
Could you write hcs for a yandere botw link? Like: How would he meet his s/o and like what would he do to her? If he was sadistic that would be nice please!
(Thank u for the request! Feel free to ask for more requests! Since u didn’t put a specific gender, I’ll make them gender neutral)
BOTW Link HCs:
The meeting: There are different ways s/o meets link but here are a few ⬇️
Nurse S/O:
S/o hums quietly as they organize the potions, medication, and tools by name and color (for potions). They were in charge of the little clinic while the main doctor was out for lunch, nothing really happened in their small village which is why when S/O heard screaming and their door being kicked in, u best believe it gave them a scare. “Doctor! We need a doctor!” One of the villager said as he and the other villager placed the badly beaten man on the table, “he’s on his break” S/O said frowning quickly rushing to the man’s side. They start examining the man for open wounds that might be causing the horrendous blood spill, they discovered a large stab wound on his upper chest but from what they could tell the stab wound wasn’t deep enough to cause serious complications such as a puncture lung but enough to cause serious bleeding. “Please leave him to me, he’ll be fine just a few stitches here and there” S/O said softly waving them out of the door before closing the door and rushing back to the man, this was their first time having to perform a surgical procedure on a patient especially by them self and they were determined to help this man to the best of their ability. Many thoughts ran through their mind as they washed their hands and placed surgical gloves on, grabbing a clean cloth they press down on the wound to stop the bleeding. They start to disinfect the wound and washing the wound out which payed off since a piece of metal was still in the wound, it was half way through stitching that the man sprang up causing S/O to jump but not far enough because the next thing they know they’re pinned to the wall with a fist ready to make contact with their face, they flinch waiting for the blow but thank the goddesses that it never came (well for now). They slowly opened one eye to look at the male who was looking straight at them with a pink tint covering his cheeks, he lets go of the poor individual and looks around from what he can tell he was in a doctor’s office. The male look back at the beautiful individual and sign a “sorry” to them, they nod and huffs “ can you please lay back down, I don’t want u to fal-“ before they could finish their sentence the poor man’s leg started to shake uncontrollably and like that he dropped to his knees (thankful he managed to get a hold of the bed as he fell). S/o rushed over to him and (some how) manage to get the muscular man back on the bed, “please stay still while I finish the stitches, I want to make sure that they’re perfectly a-line so that it closes perfectly” they said as they continue to sew the wound close, hearing a light grunt here and there. Once finish with the stitches they start bandaging and disinfecting the smaller injuries all while the man silently stared at them watching them/ analyzing them, once completely finish they gave the young man a small smile and gave him a sticker “we ran out of candy so that’s the best we have, now I’m going to prescribe you some ointment for the wounds and if the wound starts getting infected feel free to come by anytime but in the meantime you may choose to stay here until your wounds have healed or stay in one of the small rentals” they handing him a white shirt seeing that they had to cut the top of his tunic open to get to the injuries. The man grabbed the shirt and placed it on himself, he looked into their eyes for a whole 5 minutes before signing “ my name is Link, what is your name?” causing the nurse to smile “my name is s/o and you’re always welcomed here link” oh how they would regret ever meeting.
Things he does:
This man literally comes over for the littlest of things, he got a paper cut? Whelp off to S/O’s clinic! Don’t want it to get infected!
He deliberately hurts himself or jumps into a group of monster or bush filled with thorns just to come crawling back with his life barely intact.
Likes to stay/hang around at the clinic and watch the doctor closely especially when it comes to doing surgery, he may not look like he enjoys watching the doctor but in reality he finds the doctor cutting open patients satisfying.
Link day-dreams about cutting open his chest and S/O’s chest and placing his heart inside of them and theirs in his so that they’ll always be “linked” together
He comes around so much that the only way to get rid of him (for at least an hour or a day) is by giving him extremely long and extremely stupid quests. This man will literally do it if it means hanging around S/O for just 5 in a half minutes.
On multiple occasions he’ll “accidentally” cut S/O by “losing” his balance and scratching the them or “accidentally” cutting them when showing them his new dagger.
Whenever he sees blood seeping out of the freshly made wound he created on S/O it takes all of his will power not to lick the blood or store it in a jar.
If S/O donates blood it’ll “magically” disappear while under Link’s care, and no one ever suspects Link because... why the fuck would the Hylian Champion need the blood for?
Merchant S/O:
S/O sighs as they look out the window, they haven’t gotten much customers today as they wish but the quiet was fine too. They look over at the clock and stared at it for what seemed like an hour before the small bell placed on top of the door brought them back to reality, they smile and look over at the customer. The male didn’t seem to notice them or hear them as he walked in looking at the shelves, he pushed a few potions here and there before letting out a victorious little cheer as he holds up the items he was looking for up in the air. A little strange but S/O didn’t mind it as they continued to smile as the male walked over to the counter his smile never leaving his handsome face, he placed the bottle on the counter and looked up. His eyes widen as he eyes took in their beauty, his cheeks started turning a bright red as their eyes locked into each other. They didn’t want to look away but they knew that if they didn’t sell the potion and kept on with this staring game their father would be unhappy with them, they let out a small cough breaking the trance the man was in causing him to scratch the back of his neck nervously and gives them an embarrassed expression. He points at the potion and signs “how much?” They smile at him and leaned over the counter to grab it, they turn it over and checked the price “15 rupees” they said before sliding the potion in front of him. The man nods and pulls out his wallet/bag, from their angle it looked very heavy and worn out since the leather was already pealing off. The man placed fifteen green rupees on the counter and slid them towards them, they took them and nodded at man. Just as the man was turning around to leave, he was stopped by a light “wait!” causing him to turn around and face the individual. They seem to be holding something out to the young man “Father has always said that the best warriors need the best equipment” they said as they hand him a beautiful new wallet, the man hesitated when reaching for it but once he had it in his hands he admired it’s fine stitching and amazing fabric. “I-I made it myself” S/O said blushing a bit “and you don’t have to pay for it since it’s free.” The man smiles and nods before signing “my name is link, what is your name?” Causing the individual to smile “ my name is S/O and you’re welcome to come back anytime Link” they respond. The man gave them one last smile and nod before leaving the little shop.
Things that he does:
He comes over everyday or every other week if he has a quest to complete
Constantly refers your shop to other people which is part of his plan to get you to like him
Constantly helping around even if it’s something minor like dusting the shelves you can’t reach
Becomes good friends with your father and constantly ratting you out whenever Link doesn’t agree with your actions or friends
Sometimes “accidentally” bumps you into a sharp table corners
Will “accidentally” drop broken glass on you or in places you walk bare foot (so he has an excuse to help you and touch you)
Has wondering fingers whenever you hug each other.
Goes around town tell people you are an item and always makes it look like the two of you are together with or without your knowledge
Rub up against you when you’re not paying attention and tell you he was joking whenever you tell him off
(Quick note: I’m sorry it took me forever 😭. Be sure to inbox me with you want another request!)
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Haunted
@chromium7sky - I have LITERALLY no idea if this is good, or if you even like it, or if this is what you’re looking for, but I had SO MUCH FUN writing it, and there’s probably more in store.
Here’s an AO3 Link
- - -
“I… made a mistake.”
Raven lifted her eyebrows and looked over him, her lips curling up at the edges. Perfect Damian Wayne, making a mistake? Never. Blinking, she leaned against the door frame leading into her shop, and stared at him. He was quite a sight in front of her, the dingy lights of midnight in Gotham lighting up the space behind him, rain pouring down into his eyes. Something about the shadows in his eyes was making her uncomfortable, like there was a secret he was trying to tell her without saying anything at all.
Raven crossed her arms over her chest and looked down the darkened alley, seeing one of her regular customers stop and stare at her and Damian before moving on, pretending to look somewhere else. She didn’t really blame him for running away, Damian had shot up like a weed in the years after she’d left the team, and his massive form nearly blocked out the entirety of her entry door. In the flickering street lights and neon signs, he probably looked like the kind of nightmare that haunted you forever.
She sighed and tilted her head to the side, watching him. “And what do you expect me to do about it? I thought you were handling this all on your own.”
His lips twitched and he looked away, shame coloring his cheeks. “I need a favor. A big one this time.”
“Of course you do. That’s all I’m good for anymore, isn’t it? Favors you’re too anxious to ask Constantine for.” She puffed out her cheeks, trying to control the sudden burst of anger flooding her. At the end of the alley, a transformer sparked before going out, bathing them in the inky shadows that stretched their spindly fingers towards Raven.
Raven took a deep breath and let it out slowly, it wouldn’t do her any good at all to be angry with him, even if she wanted to. She stood there, trying to weigh her options as her eyes searched his blank expression. Honestly, she had already done far too many favors for him in the past few years, and he was getting close to maxing out his quota. But still… their long (and very messy) history kept her from immediately pushing him away from her and out of her life - again.
He would always be her weakness, and that was something she was going to have to accept.
A long moment passed between them, uncertain if she should move forward and let him back into her life or not. But, she knew the answer. She knew exactly what she was going to do the moment she saw him in front of her shop door, eyes pleading with her like he was some kind of beaten pet.
“Fine.” She flicked a lock of hair out of her eyes and sighed, taking a step into her shop, motioning for him to follow her. “Come on in. Let’s take a look at you and see what we can do to fix whatever you did.”
She waited until he was standing in the small, open space in the middle of her shop before she flipped the lock on her door and turned the sign hanging on the door to closed. Damian shed his jacket and set it on the counter, looking around the shop, as if intrigued by all the bottles of tinctures and tonics on the wall - bits of magic carefully enclosed in glass and steel. He reached out and touched a display of chintzy love charms next to the cash register. They lost all the magic within a day, but the high school girls who came into the shop on a dare usually bought them for fun.
“Why are you here?” Raven sighed and took a step towards him, her eyes narrow. “You made your point loud and clear last time we saw each other.”
“That’s not-” Damian looked at her and sighed. “Raven, however you interpreted our last… meeting-”
“Fight. It was a fight, Damian.” Raven bit back a curse and glared at him, halfway tempted to open the lock on her door and shove him back into the alleyway. Her patience was wearing thin, he had to have seen that. “And you kicked me out of the tower, in case you need a reminder of what happened. The minute Kory left and you took over the rest of the team, you cleaned house faster than anyone expected.”
“I didn’t clean house, and I wasn’t trying to kick you out. That was never the intention. I was just worried about you. You were upset and you were growing volatile.” He seemed to realize that was not the right thing to say, and he glanced away. “I didn’t mean-”
“Volatile? I was growing volatile? For fucks sake, Damian, you were changing everything around me! Everything changed. Kory and Dick were leaving, Gar was talking about going back to the Doom Patrol, Jaime already had one foot out the door, and Conner and Cassie were already picking out new recruits. I was just getting used to having a home and having stability, and having you as my best friend. And then everything was changing all around me so suddenly.” She looked away, wrapping her arms around herself, trying to bring her temper down and keep herself together. She didn’t want to be reminded of her last days at the tower, those wounds were still fresh even though years had passed. “I didn’t need a leader, I needed a friend to tell me everything was going to be okay. I needed you most of all, and you practically told me to pack my shit and leave.”
He winced and ran a hand over his face. “I was young and stupid. I didn’t… I thought being a leader meant control, Raven. I thought that if I could keep a short leash on everyone, we would work better and smarter and I was wrong.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, lifting his eyes to hers. “I was wrong, Raven. So wrong, and I know that now. If I could go back and make everything right, I would. I would do whatever I could to fix this. To make you see that I should have never betrayed your trust.”
Raven heart ached, somehow feeling empty and full at the same time, and she felt herself immediately disarmed. Her eyes searched his face, the years between them suddenly disappearing, and she sighed, her fingers running over his jaw. She felt a scar near his ear, an old wound she remembered him getting from a mission when they were still a new team. Damian looked into her eyes, and his head tilted to the side, almost as if he were leaning into her touch.
“We’re past that, Damian. You can’t fix something that happened in the past, you can only move forward.” She pulled her hand away and let silence settle over both of them again. There was a slow rumble of thunder in the distance, a warning of an oncoming storm. She pushed her hair out of her eyes again and sighed. “At least it’s nice to know you’re still around. I haven’t gotten any notice from you in three months. I thought you might have died.”
He shook his head and looked at her. “It’s… it’s a bit more complicated than that.”
Raven crossed her arms over her chest, staring at him. “How so?”
He shifted and sat down in a chair near the counter. “It was a… it was a mission gone wrong.” His eyes lifted to her own, expression softening around the edges, and for a moment it felt like he was seeing right through her and into her soul. “It wouldn’t have gone wrong if you were there. You always had a way of keeping up pulled together.”
That stung after what they had just said to each other, but Damian had never been tactful, so she chose not to take it personally. She pushed her hair out of her eyes again and shook her head. “I left that life years ago, Damian. Civilian life suits me now, and I don’t think my skills are exactly what they used to be. So, if this is another attempt to get me to come back to the team, you’re fresh out of luck.”
“I’d hardly call selling spells and potions civilian.” He arched an eyebrow and stared at her, a strange emotions filling his eyes. “You’re one of the most powerful sorceresses I know, Raven. Even if you only use your powers to cure limp dicks and heal broken hearts.”
“I do more than that.” He was baiting her, trying to get her to admit that she didn’t like this life. Well, he was wrong. She was perfectly happy in her little shop selling what little she could to people who needed it. She pursed her lips, and angry heat crawling up her neck. “You’re not exactly helping your case, Damian. Get to the point.”
“The mission went sideways. The rest of the team is fine, but I’m…” He trailed off, looking away. “I’m not. I’m not okay.”
She leveled another stare at him, her eyes sweeping over his face. He turned and met her, keeping his expression blank. Raven took a step towards him. “So what happened? Why are you here now? And why didn’t you go to Constantine?”
“It’s… it’s probably better to show you.” He sighed and shoved up the sleeve of his shirt, staring into her face as he presented his bare arm to her.
No. Not bare. Scarred.
Raven’s eyes fluttered, and any animosity she was trying to hold onto easily dissipated as she stared down into the very specific scar on his forearm. Black lines wove like sinister vines over his deep, olive skin, following the paths of his veins. Her fingers reached out and she traced the ragged edges of the mark as it webbed in opposite directions from the puncture wound in his arm, towards his wrist and his elbow. It looked painful and invasive, and Raven knew that her anger towards him needed to be shelved for the time being. Right now, Damian was her friend and he needed her help.
“Damian, this is…” Her mind was racing and she looked up into his face, her fingertips feeling the heat rolling off his wound. He smelled of his usual spiced soap, but under that there was the lingering perfume of death starting to cling to him. “You’ve gotten worse. This wound isn’t fresh.”
“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his head and looked away. “Yeah, I know. I had tried to fix it myself, but… I’m not a sorcerer. And I couldn’t go to grandfather… he’d make me…” Damian trailed off, closing his eyes. Something slithered down his spine and he looked away. “Nevermind.”
“I see why you didn’t go to Constantine.” Raven pulled Damian’s sleeve back down over his arm, cocking her head to the side. “He would have put a stake right through your heart, love.” Raven made a poor attempt at John’s accent, which only earned an annoyed glare from Damian.
“You’re not exactly helping my case.”
“I’m exactly explaining your case.” She ran her hand through her hair and shook her head. “Damian, you know better than to get messed up with these things. Reversing this isn’t going to be easy. It’s going to take me weeks to get this stain out of you… and I don’t know if I can. You waited too long to reach out to me. Maybe if it was a new wound, I could help easily, but this… this is deep. It’s already taking root in you.” She mentally counted days and weeks, trying to calculate how long it had been. Her eyes flicked to his face again, watching flecks of gold sparkle in his deep green irises. “Have you…” What was the appropriate way to ask if he’d drank blood? “...quenched your thirst yet?”
He gave her another flat stare, lips pulling back in an almost-snarl. “No. I’m not an idiot. I know better.”
Whew. Well, at least they had that going for them. Thank goodness for small miracles. As long as he didn’t drink human blood, he wouldn’t turn just yet. They still had a chance to fix this before things got out of control, but their time was running out. She knew why Damian hadn’t come to her, but they should put their old conflicts aside. She let go of a sigh and leaned back from him, regarding him carefully. “Come on then, let’s see what I have to at least keep the effects at bay. I can at least stabilize you while I work through a cure.”
She motioned for him to follow her, leading him through a side door and into her small workspace behind her storefront. A sterile, white light hung overhead, and jars and containers of raw materials were stacked neatly on metal shelves, some things inside the glass shifting towards Raven as she passed by them. One particular box on a bottom shelf moved slightly, catching Damian’s shocked stare.
He made a face. “You keep a dead cat in here?”
Raven sniffed. “Brahms is insulted by that, you know.”
As if realizing he was being talked about, Brahms opened his one eye and slowly lounged out of the box before jumping up onto Raven’s work table, his stump of a tail flicking. Raven scratched behind his notched ear and checked the still-healing scar along his belly, leading back to where his left hind leg had been. The scar had stopped oozing a few days ago and was now the pale pink of fresh skin. He was definitely getting better.
“Someone hit him in the street outside, I just brought him here to heal.” Raven turned and pulled a few things off the shelves, chewing on her lower lip as she flipped through a book on her table. It was lucky she had all the ingredients she would need. The spell to cure him was going to cost a small fortune for all the ingredients, but at least this would keep the curse at bay for a little while longer. “He stuck around after I patched him up, and I don’t mind the company. In spite of his appearance, he’s sometimes relatively sweet.”
“I can see that.”
When Raven turned back around, he found Brahms rubbing up against Damian’s hand as Damian scratched under his chin. For a brief moment, Damian’s face seemed to lose its tension, and something almost like calm filled him. It was probably the most calm Damian had felt in weeks. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and Raven felt her heart turn over again. Brahms didn’t really like other people, but he had somehow warmed up to Damian instantly. Raven stood there and admired the scene for a few moments, pretending not to notice when Damian caught her stare.
She set the ingredients down on her worktable, and Brahms jumped down, weaving through Damian’s legs a few times before disappearing through another door that lead upstairs. Damian watched her as she worked quietly for a few minutes, mixing a few things together and muttering a spell under her breath. The spell was a familiar one - to keep curses at bay, and she found her mind wandering through the familiarity of it all. Damian stood next to her, and for a while it felt like old times back at the tower - both of them working together, enjoying each other’s quiet company. It felt… comforting, like something she had been missing for a long while. As angry as she was at Damian, she still appreciated his presence.
“I’m sorry.”
Raven’s hands stilled against her grinding wheel, and she turned to look at him. “What?”
“I’m sorry.” Damian’s voice was still, and he pressed his hand against the table, leaning closer to her. “For what happened at the tower. It was my fault and I… I thought I knew what was best then. I thought I knew what was going to make us a better team, and I didn’t. I didn’t know what I was doing at all, and I couldn’t admit it to myself or to you at the time. So, all I did was mess everything up, and I… I don’t know how to make it up to you. I don’t know how to fix it, except tell you I’m sorry a hundred times over.”
“You’re apologizing and admitting to your mistakes, so that’s a start.” Raven cocked her head to the side and offered a thin, teasing smile, looking at him from beneath the shadows of her eyelashes. “You’ve got a long way to go, but at least you’re headed in the right direction. It’s more than yesterday.” She turned back to her work. “Now, hush. I’m trying to concentrate on saving your life.”
Damian shook his head, but a small smile tugged on his lips. He stayed quiet until Raven finished her work, his presence still welcoming and comforting.
“Here. This won’t cure you, but it will keep you stabilized until we can figure out a permanent cure. I have a few ideas for where to start, but I’ll need to do some more research.” She handed him a bowl of something thick and syrupy, like black ink coating the inside of the bowl. “Drink all of this.”
His lips pulled back in a grimace and he sniffed it. “I don’t think I can drink this.”
“Well, I don’t have cinnamon flavoring, so you’re going to have to make do.” She paused, a slight flush working up her neck as she realized she remembered that cinnamon was his favorite flavor. It had been years and she still remembered little details about him. Damian lifted an eyebrow and she turned away, ignoring whatever feeling was twisting in her chest and putting things back on the shelves. She listened to him try and swallow as much as he could, sputtering between mouthfuls.
There was a slight pause and she looked back at him. “Do you have a place to stay tonight?”
He forced down another mouthful and coughed, wiping at his mouth. “N-no. I was going to rent a hotel room.”
“Mm.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Stay with me.”
The air grew heavy and Damian stared at her, eyes wide with surprise. After they had just spent the better part of their evening being angry with each other, she was inviting him to stay the night. It was probably a bad choice, but having him next to her reminded her how much she liked having him around. Raven winced as she desperately searched for a sensible explanation, shoving unused herbs back into their respective canisters. “Hotels are busy places filled with easy prey. It’ll keep you from being tempted, and I can keep an eye on you overnight, and… and Brahms seems to like you. He’s an excellent judge of character.”
He paused, another sound of coughing filling the small space. “You don’t think it’s ironic that you named your cat Brahms?”
“In all fairness you’re the only… night creature I’ve met.” She turned around and watched as he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand again, avoiding her stare. “I’ve never seen anyone else with the same curse as yours. And I thought it was fitting of a cat who somehow defied death.”
“Mm.” Damian set the now empty bowl on her work table. He rested his hands on the table and swallowed air, obviously weighing her offer. Finally he lifted his stare to her own, cocking his head to the side. “Alright, I’ll stay.”
“My apartment is small and I only have one bed.” Why did she have to blurt that out?
He lifted an eyebrow, as if not sure why that mattered.
“Just so you’re aware. I don’t have an extra guest room. You’ll have to sleep in the armchair.” Raven ignored his expression and made her way to the back staircase, motioning for him to follow. “It’s nothing fancy, but Roy told me it’s comfortable enough. So, you should get a fairly good rest, especially if you’re tired enough.”
Damian made an odd noise in the back of his throat, as though that news upset him. “You’ve had Harper over?”
Raven nodded, glancing over her shoulder at him, but he avoided her stare. “And Tim. And Conner. And Cassie. And Gar. And Jason. And Dick and Kory. And Babs. And Steph. And Cass. And Garth. And-”
“I get it.” Damian growled, the sound rough as it escaped his throat. Shame seemed to color every part of him, and his head dipped in something akin to embarrassment. “I haven’t exactly been… social these last few years. With anyone outside of the team.”
“They’re not usually social calls, if that’s what you’re thinking. Kory and Dick maybe, but mostly my apartment is a safe haven for people who need it… or who don’t feel like they can go to John�� or Zatanna.” Raven unlocked the door at the top of the stairs, and Brahms ran inside, followed by Raven and Damian. She flicked the light on, bathing her small studio in a soft glow. “My apartment is a place you can come if you need help. It’s how its always been.”
“You have… books.” He glanced around the apartment. “A lot of them.”
She glanced around the space, noting that nearly every wall was filled floor-to-ceiling with bookcases, each one shoved full of books. Most were tomes and scripts she needed for her work, but some were admittedly for pleasure. “I need most of those for what I do downstairs. There’s the chair.” She motioned to a large armchair shoved in the corner across from her bed and covered in blankets and throw pillow, with a plush ottoman in front of it. “The bathroom is to the left of the kitchen area. You can change and shower if you need to, I’m sure the trip was hard on you. I think I have one of your old shirts but…” She paused and gave him a once-over, snorting softly. “I doubt it still fits.”
Damian looked down at himself, as if he wasn’t quite sure what she was talking about. How could he have not noticed how big he’d gotten? Was he that oblivious? He glared for a moment, as if insulted before cocking his head to the side, suddenly realizing something. “Why do you have one of my old shirts?”
“You gave it to me on a mission…” Raven turned to her stove and set the kettle on the heat. “I never had a chance to return it to you.”
Damian snorted, obviously not buying her story. “You had plenty of chances… you just chose not to.”
“So?” Raven glanced at him, a dark blush staining her cheeks. A few years ago she might have felt shame at clinging to her past, but now she realized it was part of who she was, and it was important to her to remember the home she had. If Damian found fault with that, then that was his concern, not hers. She looked away again, ignoring the sudden weight in the room. “It was comforting, and after a while it became a way for me to remember the home I had before.”
Damian dropped his jacket onto a kitchen chair and wandered into the rest of her studio apartment. His steps stopped and he snorted, staring at the bed. “You have a king size bed.”
“And?”
He turned back towards her, his face blank. “You’re telling me that you have a king size bed, that takes up most of your bedroom area, and you still make your guests sleep in an armchair?”
“Not all my guests.” Raven smirked as she pulled two mugs out of the cupboard, setting them on the counter. She could afford to tease him just a little. “Steph usually sleeps with me. Sometimes Tim. He likes to cuddle.”
Damian glared at her, but she ignored it. “There are extra blankets stored in the ottoman if you need them.”
There was a long stretch of silence and she heard him pull out the blankets, setting up his space in the chair. Finally, Damian spoke again, still curious about the guests that stayed over. “So… you just have people over whenever?”
“Whenever they need it. Or whenever my services are required.” Raven poured near-boiling water over the tea in the mugs and turned back to him. “And you definitely need it.”
Damian looked at her. “But Tim sleeps with you?”
“And Steph.”
His lips twitched, his thoughts racing. He opened his mouth and closed it a few times, as if there was a question building on his lips that he desperately wanted answers to. “So, do you…? With Tim or Steph?”
“That’s none of your business, now is it? You haven’t seen me in years, and I’m a grown woman who is perfectly capable of making her own choices in life.” She gave him a teasing smirk, telling more secrets than truths, and walked over to him, shoving a mug of tea into his hand. “Lavender and chamomile. It’ll help you sleep tonight, and it’ll get the taste of the spell out of your mouth. I know it’s not pleasant.”
Damian took the tea cautiously and drank it. There was another stretch of silence and Raven pulled back the covers of her bed, Brahms finding space on the pillow beside her. She glanced over at Damian, her eyes curious. Damian looked uncomfortable and dejected, and she could sense something under his skin - something like jealousy and regret and sorrow and the roots of their friendship from Raven’s time at the tower. It all swirled together, a mess of emotions and feelings that he wasn’t sure how to contend with, and he struggled with understanding them and himself. Raven couldn’t find fault with that, not when he was working so hard to at least try to be better. It was a start, he just had to keep trying.
“Just because you said you’re sorry it doesn’t absolve you of what happened at the tower.” She sighed and sat down across from him on the edge of the bed, looking into his face. He didn’t turn away from her, and she took that as a sign to continue. “I’m still mad at you. I want to forgive you, Damian… but it’s not easy, and you have to give me time. I’m still healing, and you come back into my life after years of being out of it and… and it’s hard. I’m helpless when it comes to you. I thought you would have learned that by now.”
Damian sighed and set the mug of tea down next to him. He looked for a long while like he wanted to say something, but nothing came to mind. Something was warring inside him, and he wasn’t sure which side of himself he should be on. A minute passed, and then two, and finally he turned away, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s late. We should… we should get to bed.”
Raven nodded and disappeared to the bathroom to change, when she came back Damian was already curled up in the armchair, his head tilted back as he started to drift to sleep. She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes drifting over his too-big-for-the-chair form, stretched out in an uncomfortable position with one foot hanging off the ottoman. Her heart turned over and she knew that she probably shouldn’t torture him any longer. She sighed and walked up to him, pulling the blanket off his chest. Damian opened one eye and glared, but Raven was unfazed.
“Get in bed.” She motioned to the bed behind her. ”And take off your trousers, you look ridiculous and uncomfortable.”
He blinked, a flush staining his cheeks. “I thought you-”
“Only Roy has to sleep in the chair because he’s handsy in his sleep.” She sighed and shook her head. “Everyone else is welcome in my bed. It’s why I got a king in the first place. Steph kicks in her sleep, and a full wasn’t enough space to avoid it.” Her legs hurt just thinking about it. “So go on, take off your pants and get into bed.”
Damian slowly undressed the rest of the way, and Raven tried not to admire his backside as he bent over. Tried, and failed. Miserably. All those years of training had definitely done wonders. She flushed and looked away, crawling into her side of the bed to pull the covers over her shoulders. Brahms found his favorite spot on top of her head, and Damian finally sat down on the other side of the mattress, dressed in nothing more than his boxer briefs and his undershirt. She flushed again and rolled away from him.
“Just stay over there on your side of the bed.”
She waited for a response, but there was only silence. When she glanced over her shoulder, he had already fallen into a deep sleep. Her heart fluttered in her chest and she backed up a few inches so that her back was brushing against his chest. His familiar warmth and scent of spiced soap filled her senses, and for a few minutes she felt like she was somewhere else. In a time before she had left the tower.
“You should stay on your side of the bed too.”
Raven flushed and moved to pull away, but Damian curled a hand around her waist, drawing her back into his chest. Raven stilled, her cheeks flushed as she stared into the inky darkness around her. Brahms readjusted so that he was sitting on top of both of their heads. For the first time in a long time, Raven felt… safe and comforted, and her eyes grew heavy as Damian’s fingers tangled in the folds of her t-shirt.
A long silence stretched between them, and she had almost fallen asleep when she heard Damian murmur into her ear.
“So… did you? With Steph?”
Raven smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
He scoffed, his breathing heavy. “Not really.”
“Liar.”
#damirae#demonbirds#still working on filling requests#but if ya'll keep making them so good#it's gonna take forever to get through them
104 notes
·
View notes