#i’ll have waited nearly a decade for it so it better be good

[thewillbyersbowlcut]

the byler kiss better be the most beautiful shot in television history. it better be well lit. well directed. well acted. well written. the costumes better be top tier. the hair better be on point. i want it to be worthy of the louvre.

[ladykailitha]

Royal Pain Part 21

Hello! We're back with more Royal Pain. For the person(s) that thought the kiss meant the nearing of the end of the story: NOPE! We still have a bit to get through plot wise. Plus I don't usually go through past them getting together, and wanted to explore that a little before the end.

Also, where have my commenters gone? I used to get 10 or so comments a post and the last part of "Well Met By Moonlight" only had one. My usual commenters just didn't. If I have suggested in anyway that I don't like comments or don't appreciate them, know that I really, really do! And I miss it when people who used comment don't anymore. I'm not going to name names because this isn't a callout post, just a concern, I guess.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Today we have a replay reaction to the kiss by the Royal Pain crew, Wayne being wise (and mention of a ring that has always been a thing in the story, I just forgot to put it in before this oops!) and Chrissy getting some advice.

***

To say that Steve was practically squealing from joy when he got to his car would be an understatement. He put his bluetooth earpiece in his right ear and immediately called Robin.

“Are you okay?” she asked as soon as she picked up.

“Eddie kissed me!” he giggled excitedly.

“No fucking way!” she gasped.

“Not yet anyway,” he said slyly, pulling into traffic.

“Steven Joseph Harrington!” Robin squeaked. “You don’t get to make dirty puns like that unless I’m in hitting distance.”

Steve laughed. “Joseph isn’t my middle name.”

He could hear her snap her fingers. “I’ll guess it eventually.”

“It’s been nearly a decade and you still haven’t guessed it,” he reminded her. “I can make it harder though...”

“Don’t you dare!” she hissed. There was silence for a moment. “You can’t make it harder, can you?”

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “I can actually, but you told me not to.”

He could feel her narrow her eyes from across town as she weighed her options.

“Go ahead,” she said haughtily. “I don’t think you can.”

Steve grinned. “I have two middle names and you’ve never guessed either one.”

“You do not!” Robin hissed. “There is no way!”

“My parents were super traditional,” he told her. “My middle names come from each of my grandfathers.”

“Oh my god,” she said, “that makes so much sense.”

Steve licked his lips and waited. Five, four, three, two–

“Don’t you change the subject, Steven!” Robin came back. “Eddie kissed you.”

“He did indeed,” Steve said, “and I will tell you all about it when I get back to the shop. I’m like three minutes away.”

“I want to know everything!”

“I promise.”

*

Steve got to the shop and everyone was standing around the front counter, chins propped up on their hands, blinking at him expectantly.

He shook his head. “Menaces, the lot of you.”

Erica batted her eyelashes. “Yeah, but you like menaces.”

Steve tilted his head to the side and then nodded. “Yeah, yeah. But first I have to tell about my lunch with Wayne.”

Erica and Chrissy groaned, pushing off the counter and rolling their eyes. Robin and Argyle stayed in position though.

“Trust me,” Steve said holding his hands up, “it’s relevant to the story.”

“This better be good, Harrington,” Chrissy snarked.

“Oh it will be,” he said with a smile, “I promise.”

He started telling them everything. Wayne’s approval, the confrontation with Quinn, Eddie coming to the rescue, the kiss.

“Lunch was definitely relevant, dude,” Argyle said. “Getting parental approval is super important in a relationship. Especially if they’re close.”

Steve nodded. “So does the story live up the hype?” he asked the girls.

Robin rolled her eyes. “I suppose.”

Chrissy giggled. “It was so cute, Stevie. I’m happy for you!”

Steve waited for Erica, who sat there tapping her lips for a moment. She cocked her head. “Ehhh...it was all right.”

Everyone protested, talking over each other.

She burst out laughing. “God, you guys so easy. Of course it was awesome. Super sweet, too.”

Steve opened his mouth to say something when the bell over the door sounded, announcing the arrival of his next client.

He turned to greet them as everyone but Robin scattered. As much as he would love to gossip about his newly minted love life, he had clients that wanted tattoos.

*

Eddie kept licking his lips the whole way to his apartment.

“What made you change your mind?” Wayne asked. “About dating Steve? Him saying ‘I love you’?”

Eddie bit his lip and shook his head. “I had made the decision before that. It was just with Seth stalking me, I didn’t want to get Steve hurt if Seth thought we were together.”

Wayne nodded. “If Seth would threaten Steve over being your friend and tattoo artist, I shudder to think what he would have done if your relationship was more serious.”

“In fact I was going to tell him before Seth threatened him,” Eddie said with a sigh. “We had plans to have dinner at his place and I was going to tell him then.”

“But then Seth showed up?” Wayne asked.

Eddie nodded. “And then that night, I was going to at least let him know that after the whole thing with Seth got resolved, I was going to kiss the hell out him, but that didn’t work out either.”

Wayne tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“That was the night he ran into an ex,” Eddie explained. “The ex. The one that broke his heart. Found out a whole bunch of other shit that night, too. I spent most of the night trying to console him.”

“So the stars finally aligned today, then?” Wayne asked.

“About god damned time, too,” Eddie agreed fiercely.

Wayne hummed. “He’s good for ya, Ed. I don’t think I’ve seen you this happy in a long time. Even when Seth was breathing down your neck, you were more solid. You had your friends, but with Steve standing beside you, you looked like you could handle whatever the world threw at you as long as you had him.”

Eddie blushed, annoyed that driving kept him from ducking his head or shoving hair in his mouth to cover the flush on his cheeks. “He makes me feel brave, because he’s been through shit too and he’s still standing. Still moving forward each day. I love that about him.”

“Good.”

They drove the rest of the trip in silence. When they got back to the apartment they chatted as Eddie helped Wayne pack for his journey back to Hawkins.

“I want to see you both come Labor Day,” Wayne growled. “No excuses, you hear?”

Eddie nodded. “Yes, sir.” He gave him a jaunty salute.

It looked absolutely ridiculous coming from a long haired metalhead and Wayne’s snort cinched it.

Eddie grinned but gave him a gentle shove. “Steve wasn’t lying when he said that was the plan, by the way. We had been talking about taking him down to meet you since the first week of us becoming friends.”

Wayne nodded sagely. “I understand that he’s not close with his parents.”

“It was big ole mess,” Eddie said softly. “His parents are very recently divorced, like it was finalized last month, recent.”

Wayne hummed. “I remember you saying something about that,” he said. “At least you had an uncle who cared when your parents decided to be shit, it doesn’t seem like Steve had that option.”

“He was close to his grandpa though,” Eddie murmured. “On his mom’s side. He was really broken up when the man died.”

Wayne zipped up his suitcase. “How old was Steve?”

Eddie shrugged. “Young. Eight or nine. His grandfather got cancer before his mom met his dad. His grandpa had struggled with the disease before it finally took him. Steve said that it had ravaged so much of his body that his death certificate was like a laundry list of possible causes of death. Heart failure, kidney failure, cancer...you name it, it was probably on the damn thing.”

“That ring he wears all the time,” Wayne asked, “that his grandfather’s?”

Eddie nodded. “His dad tried to take it for years, saying it inappropriate to leave to a little boy.”

“Only he wasn’t going to stay a little boy forever,” Wayne said. “I guessing that since he still has it, his mom interfered?”

“Maureen Harrington wasn’t going to be winning any best mom awards at any point in Steve’s life,” Eddie scoffed, “but she did do some shit and hiding that ring was one of them.”

“I’m glad he had someone looking out for him,” Wayne said. “I’m sorry it wasn’t all the time. But he at least had something some of the time.”

“He’s not jealous of me or Robin,” Eddie said, “Or anyone of his friends that have a good home life. He’s happy with his found family. He loves them as though they are blood.”

Wayne smiled. “I’m happy for you, Ed. You’ve got something real special with Steve.”

Eddie blushed. “I love him.”

“I think the whole world knows it’s mutual at this point,” Wayne said with a small shake of his head.

Eddie just grinned.

*

Steve grinned as Chrissy wandered out of her room for the third time today. The first time was that she forgot her purse in her car. The second time it was because she had a question for Robin (completely made up and not something that was essential at all to her job). The third time it was because she wanted to ask Robin if she wanted anything from the deli on the corner for lunch.

Could you tell that Vickie was being trained by Robin today?

Vickie put her hand on Robin’s arm to get her to slow down in her nervous and very rapid fire explanation of the phone system and Steve thought Chrissy was going to explode.

Chrissy was wearing a pink blouse with spaghetti straps and white lacy cardigan over the tightest jeans Steve had ever seen and he’s been to a lot of Corroded Coffin shows. Her hair was up in an artfully messy ponytail and her makeup was tasteful and very pink.

Steve was just grateful she hadn’t paired the outfit with anything high heeled and instead chose white ballet flats. He was always worried someone was going to sprain their ankles in high heels walking on their hardwood floors.

He winced as Chrissy’s poor attempt at flirting fell flat.

“Oh,” Robin said, “Steve already ordered him and me Chinese, sorry.”

“I’d love something though,” Vickie said brightly. “Do they have a turkey club?”

Chrissy sputtered for a moment before she nodded meekly. “Yeah.”

“Great!” Vickie continued. “Just let me know how much and I’ll wire you the funds.”

Chrissy nodded again and with a squeak, dashed back into her room. Steve watched as Vickie’s smile turned knowing.

He shook his head and went to go talk to his apprentice.

“Someone’s got a crush,” he said, leaning against the door frame, with his arms folded.

Chrissy threw her arms in the air. “At least you noticed. I don’t think she has.”

Steve chuckled and made his way over to her, swinging the door shut behind him.

“I love her,” he said sitting down on her client lounger, “but she absolutely loses her head when a pretty girl is around. Gay, straight, bi. Doesn’t matter she becomes an absolute mess.”

“I’ve noticed,” Chrissy said bitterly. She thought about Vickie and Mandy and how Robin was just goo around them.

He hummed, knowing exactly what she was thinking. “Here’s the thing though, you are one hundred percent ahead of the game compared to the other two girls.”

Chrissy scoffed. “What makes you think that?”

Steve grinned. “Mandy has a boyfriend, soon to be fiance and Vickie could be bisexual. But she could also be straight. Robin knows you’re a lesbian. You have the advantage of her knowing where she stands with you.”

Chrissy blinked. “Oh.”

“You want to get the girl?” Steve asked. She nodded. “Then you’ve got to step up your game. Time to woo her and not just flirt with her.”

Chrissy chewed on her lip. “But how do I do that?”

Steve shook his head. “Well for starters, paying attention. Robin and I always get Chinese on Fridays.”

She blinked for a moment, pulled out her phone and then the light bulb went off above her head. “Oops.”

“Yeah...”

She took a deep breath. “Do you think I have a chance?”

“She thinks the cheerleading thing is scary hot, so...”

Chrissy grinned. “It’s short skirt, isn’t it?”

Steve shrugged. “And the cute little socks.”

Chrissy laughed. “Can’t forget those.”

He turned to walk away, but she stopped him. “Thanks for this, Steve. I know you didn’t have to.”

Steve just smiled softly and then walked out of the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Thoughts on how to get the girl of her dreams.

***

Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​ @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @aizawa-emma @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @archermightbegay @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bestwifehaver @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @oldwitcheshat @nightmareglitter @tinyplanet95 @novelnovella

[mara-tevith-solo]

One Enchanted Evening

Just a little Adam Warlock fluff. This MFer restarted my Will Poulter era and I stg... man’s too good for this world

Pairing: Adam Warlock x Ex-Avenger/ Guardian!Reader

Warnings: It’s fluff, mentions of drinking, Blurp being adorable, flirting, established relationship, making out

Rating: 18+

Words: 1.1k+

"C'mon Y/n! Let's go get pretty boy wasted for the first time! Drax, Nebula, and some of the others will be there!" Rocket called from the front door, sounding way too enthused with his little side quest as Adam smiled brightly, and innocently, beside him.

"I can't, I have to take over for Ullette tomorrow; her daughter is coming for a visit." You apologized with a breathy laugh, shaking your head at the two. "Don't poison yourself, Rocket. I'm betting a quarter mil that his alcohol tolerance is about as good as Steve's."  

"I'll take you up on that bet!" He laughed with pride and little foresight.

"Who's Steve?" Adam asked, cocking his head to the side slightly. There wasn't any jealousy there, just pure curiosity.

"He was one of Y/n's Super Soldier Earth pals, worked on the same team together for over a decade, stopped the world from ending a few times, we all reversed the Snap together about three years back. Good guy. Was hung up on a broad he used to know."

"What's a broad?"

"Its a term for a woman, though it's not so respectful. Y'all better get going before Drax pre-games too hard."  

"Alright alright, I'll keep lover boy out of trouble, swearsies."

Adam shifted on his feet, looking at Rocket's retreating form before looking at you like a puppy who didn't know which way to go. You placed your hands on his chest, the fabric of his t-shirt soft under your palms as you raised up onto your tip toes to press a kiss to his cheek "Don't let them drink too much. Last time a challenge like this happened, Drax had to have his stomach pumped."

"Should I be worried? Because I'd be more than happy to just stay home with you and we could finish that show and--"

"It'll be fine, Adam. Go have fun with the others. I'll still be here when you come back." You smiled teasingly before pushing him the rest of the way out the door, Rocket's crossed arms and exasperated expression in your peripherals, shaking his head at the two of you.

"Don't have too much fun without me." He finally conceded with a cheeky wink before turning and making to leave with the Raccoon.

As soon as the door closed, Blurp let out a soft little whine, making you turn back towards him with a small pout that turned into a frown as soon as you saw the sadness on his little face, the worry in his eyes that was always there whenever Adam left without him. You swooped up the little fuzzball and nuzzled your face against his "Oh, come on fluff, you can help me make some ice cream sundaes for us." You hummed as you began dancing to a phantom melody only you could hear, his eager agreements nearly busting him loose from your arms. You laughed as you set him on the counter, motioning for him to sit and stay while you went for ingredients.

It wasn't the first time the two of you had done the late night treat, the F'saki watching as you began making two bowls, his topped with Orloni jerky with strawberry sauce while yours was just a simple vanilla with hot fudge sauce. He was vibrating with anticipation as you picked up both bowls and began leading the charge back to the living room, being careful to not trip you on the way. He'd done it once, and only once. He'd gotten too excited and had zipped over your foot while you were beginning to take a step, resulting in you faceplanting into the hard wood covered cement floors, breaking your nose in the process. He'd felt so bad about it, and hadn't zipped anywhere near your feet since. He sat by the couch, tall and pretty as he waited for you to put his bowl down "There ya go, buddy. Enjoy!" You giggled softly as he dug in with a happy chirp. You curled up on the couch to enjoy yours. Afterwards, you didn't bother with the dishes, suddenly too exhausted, laying down just a bit to nap until Adam returned. Blurp was all too happy to join you, cuddling up on your stomach with happy little purrs, falling asleep well before you did.

"Y/n!" Adam's whispered shout pulled you out of a light doze, still curled up on the couch with Blurp, an excited Adam leaning over you both. Blurp didn't even flinch, just grumbling softly in his sleep as he curled up tighter, much like a sleepy, disgruntled cat. "Sorry!" He giggled, still whisper shouting "I figured it out!"

"Figured what out, handsome?" You hummed groggily, smiling sleepily up at the golden man who was smiling ear to ear at the endearment, a dreamy gleam in his eyes.

"Drax helped me figure out why my chest burns whenever I think of you... and when I'm around you... when we're apart... any time you're even mentioned really. He said that's how he felt about his Ovette. He called it 'love'." Your heart skipped a beat, realizing where the conversation was going. "He said that I need to make sure you know how I feel about you, that you never doubt how much I love you. And then he cried... a lot... he's very drunk..."

Your heart felt like it was soaring as you reached up and cupped his cheek, your fingers then moving to trace his jawline and his chin. He moved down with you, like he didn't want you to stop touching him, an intoxicated warmth to his eyes that wasn't from the liquor. When your lips touched you could swear it was unlike any kiss before, it was electrifying to your very core, your very soul. It made your breath stutter as one of his hands planted firmly on the couch by your shoulder as the other gripped your hip. "I love you too, Adam." You murmured against his lips, your voice feather light, just for his ears. His kiss became hungry, devouring everything that you gave him like a man starved, some of his hair falling into your face, the tickling sensation making your toes curl and your heart splutter.

He almost closed the distance between you, but Blurp squeaked in protest on your stomach, almost pouting up at him like you'd both mortally betrayed him "Sorry Blurp. But I need to borrow my love." He was gentle as he picked up the F'saki, usurping him of his position. The fuzzy being only huffed and went to steal your bed. Adam didn't give you a moment to laugh at the situation, swallowing the sound eagerly as his tongue begged for entrance, his hard length making its presence well known against your thigh. He moaned loudly as your tongue came out to play with his, your hips bucking up into him, begging for friction "Y/n, oh gods." He moaned, giving you the perfect opportunity to kiss and nip at his neck.  

[luvhaos]

skate and slip | kmg

pairing: kim mingyu x gn! reader genre: non-idol! au, established relationship, fluff, humor word count: 683 summary: in hindsight, maybe you and mingyu, the two clumsiest people in existence, shouldn’t have accepted the invitation to an ice skating outing.

You swear that you weren’t this clumsy before you started dating Mingyu. You’re pretty sure it just rubbed off on you. You also swear that you never used to be this bad at ice skating but you guess it has been over a decade since your parents last took you to a rink.

Mingyu has your hand in a death grip as you two shuffle awkwardly along the edge of the rink, Mingyu shouting, “Show offs!” as Minghao and Joshua whiz by the two of you. It makes you personally feel a little better when you see Seungkwan trip and fall at the other end of the ice rink, earning laughs from you and Mingyu, but that satisfaction doesn’t last long.

Mingyu stumbles himself and, because of his vice hold on your hand, drags you down with him. “Ouch!” you yelp as you land on him and you huff playfully, “Jeez, Gyu, take us all down, why don’t you?”

Mingyu scoffs, “Oh, please, you would have fallen eventually.”

“Would not.”

“Would so.”

“Would not.”

“Would so!”

“You’re both equally bad,” Wonwoo says, skating over to you.

Mingyu glares at his best friend as you grip the wall of the rink, pulling yourself up. Wonwoo, despite his taunting, helps you haul Mingyu up as well. You hold onto the wall and Mingyu leans against it. You watch as Wonwoo skates away, studying the motion of his legs and his stance. You push yourself off the wall and tentatively move away, gliding at a snail’s pace but at least you’re not actively falling down.

As you move farther away, Mingyu whines, “Where are you going? Don’t leave me here!”

“I think I’m getting the hang of it, babe,” you say and you move a few more inches forward.

“Woohoo!” Seokmin cheers as he slides past you, just a tad faster than you. “Go, Y/n!”

“I thought we were a team!” Mingyu calls from behind you.

You sigh in faux sadness and glance over your shoulder. “Sometimes, we need to leave people behind to move forward.”

You laugh at your boyfriend’s overdramatic cry and Vernon shouts, “Cold, Y/n, cold!”

You nearly tumble down again but you catch the wall in time, keeping yourself upright as you watch Mingyu gradually move himself off it. “Watch out,” he warns you, “I’m coming to get you!”

Wonwoo, who had taken two laps around the rink, settles beside you and mutters, “I highly doubt that.”

Mingyu skates a mere four inches before falling again. You and Wonwoo exchange glances and you say, “I don’t know if I’ll make it back to him without falling and I kind of like my high ground right now.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes good-naturedly and makes his way over to Mingyu on his own, once again helping him up. Mingyu pouts at you and you hold your arms out. “Come on, babe! You’ve got it!”

Mingyu clings to the wall as he shuffles towards you, one painstaking foot in front of the other. You’re barely managing to balance yourself waiting for him and as he draws closer to you, he makes a final push and flies towards you, crashing into you and sending you both down.

When the initial ache fades, you two stare at each before bursting into loud laughs. Mingyu leans down and kisses you, earning whoops and retching from your friends and you swear that Jihoon yells, “Get a room!”

The two of you struggle to your feet and you say, “I, sadly, don’t think we have careers in figure skating, Gyu.”

Mingyu hums in agreement, wrapping an arm around your waist and resting his head on top of yours. “I like where we’re at right now.”

“Wow,” Seungcheol says as he passes you two. “Way to make the rest of us feel single.”

“That’s right,” Mingyu says, puffing his chest out. “Be jealous of our love.” He pecks your temple and then your cheek and soon, he’s pressing sweet kisses all over your face, earning another round of cheering and gagging.

“I second Jihoon.” Chan says, “Get a room!”

[severusloveslily]

potions & parchment || snamione AU

Severus stalked back into Hogwarts, a scowl on his face. He had just made the always lovely trek to the Ministry and had, yet again, been thwarted by the dunderheads that make up their government. 

Since the Dark Lord’s downfall, he had spent a year or so recovering from his injuries. He was still trying to work out the odds of how the hell he’d managed to survive. Despite his best efforts, he was still alive, so he decided he ought to at least try and enjoy his freedom. Following his recovery, he dusted off many of his stalled research projects and had gone to work. Nearly a decade later, he was ready to present them to the Ministry. 

However, he was hitting roadblocks at every bloody turn. Though he’d been awarded an Order of Merlin, First Class, they still didn’t particularly like ex-Death Eaters. He couldn’t say he blamed them, but it was frustrating. He didn’t want to be stuck teaching for the rest of his life. It was a means to an end at this point. 

“Severus?”

The man stopped and turned to see his boss, Minerva McGonagall, approaching him. He waited for her to catch up, before he continued walking. “I’m not in the mood right now, Minerva.”

“How did the meeting go?” she asked. “Not well?”

“You astound me with your deduction skills,” he muttered. “I want to be alone.”

“Why did they turn you down?” she pressed, struggling to keep up with his long stride. 

“You know why, Minerva,” Severus drawled. “In any case, I suppose I’ll just have to fund my projects personally. It will take much longer, but... one day, perhaps I’ll get there. Unless someone else beats me to it,” he muttered. He was trying to develop a serum to numb the effects of the Cruciatus curse. Though the Dark Lord was gone, his followers remained, and there were still people recovering from the war. It would also help Aurors on their mission. 

He had also tweaked his Wolfsbane recipe and he found it was more effective than the one before. Though he wasn’t fond of Remus Lupin, it opened his eyes to the horribly lonely world of people stricken with lycanthropy. He was trying to help. 

“You know,” McGonagall started, “Hermione will be here for her semi-annual visit next week. Why don’t you speak to her about it? That could be your way in. If you get the Minister for Magic on your side, they can’t say no. Right?”

Severus stopped walking and pondered that. He’d rather rip his hair out than ask a third of the Golden Trio for help, but he had his back against the wall at this point. “Perhaps,” he murmured. It wasn’t a bad idea, but she never really came to speak to him anyway. She hardly even observed him when she was here. He was glad she was taking such a proactive approach to the school, no other minister in his memory had done that. She was doing the world of good for their society, and fit the job to a tee. The country was better off with her at the helm. 

[fictionkinfessions]

I miss Annabeth so much it physically pains me. She was one of my best friends, even after we broke up (we were not a good pair, easier to admit that now than it was in the past); I relied so much on her for… gods, nearly everything that sometimes I have to sit down and ask myself “what would she do? What advice would she give me?” and sometimes that… doesn’t make it better. I’ve been here for over a decade at this point and haven’t been able to find her, which has got to be some sick prank played on me by the gods. I’ll keep trying, of course, I’ll never stop looking for here, but it gets so unbearably hard sometimes.

Same with Grover, I miss that goat so much. I try to be more eco-friendly and conscious on what I give and take from nature for him. I know it’s small, but some part of me thinks he’d be happy to know I took all his rants and raves to heart, that I listened and really took in what he was saying; not a lot of people wanted to do that, but he was usually right. He was my other bestfriend, carried me and had my back through so much that it’s baffling to think I haven’t spoken to him once in this life. I reread our source and have to shake off tears because of how much I miss him at times, as embarrassing as it is to admit that.

It’s been harder with the live action and all the news surrounding that, especially because of how much Leah and Aryan look like them, sound like them, act like them— I mean, they’ve got their mannerisms down almost perfectly. Wherever they both are, I hope they’re okay. I hope life is treating them kindly and they’re able to do things they wanted to before but either never got around to or were unable to. I hope they’re happy. I hope they know I miss them, that still love them with every inch of my watery being, and that I’ll never stop waiting for them to come home. — Percy Jackson (fictive) (#🔱☀️)

x

[themareverine]

tw religious themes, angst, reflection

It’s December 23rd. I turned 30 on Thursday.

Wow.

A decade ago I was still in college. On the cusp of deciding who I would become, who I was. You don't feel that way when you're 20; there's a deep relief of being out of your teens and finally being an "adult" that, with it, comes the expectation of respect and knowledge. How naive that is, thinking life just somehow downloads. It doesn't.

Then, I dreamed of doing film (still do) and had no idea where life would take me. I loved Jesus, but was nowhere near where I needed to be at His feet. I loved my parents, but wanted so desperately to fly into freedom. I harbored deep hatred toward myself; my body, my personality, who I was. My confidence was in shambles.

Ten years ago, I would be appalled where I am standing right now at 30.

God grabbed a hold of me differently in my 20s and routed me on a path I have fought hard to love and desire. I am embracing new callings and words from the Lord, letting old things go and wrestling with old dreams that I, now, much older, realize were fantasy. I have done things and lived in a way I never imagined. I've done so much of what I never thought, so little of what I ever desired, that my perspectives and interests have changed. And that is a good thing.

I have learned as my birthday has come and gone that life is not nearly so much about expectations and dreams as it is learning who you are, and accepting who God desires for you to be. It's much easier chasing what Jesus has for you, working in tandem than it is to fight the systems of heaven. Dreams evolve and bury, but God and His will for us, it doesn't change. It takes time. And waiting for time isn't nearly as bad as we think it is, it's just difficult.

My prayer at 20 was to figure out who I was and make a name for myself. That, arguably, may or may not have happened. I certainly didn't figure out nearly everything I thought I should, what I wanted, but I figured out other things. My prayer for my 30s, now, is to step farther into what God has planned. To worry less and praise more. To fight my battles in worship and faith, not fear and anxiety and self loathing.

Life is so fleeting in the scope of the everlasting. I could grieve over the years I wasted hated myself and hating being alive because of pain and disappointments, but instead, I know those days happened for a reason: so I could be where I am now, for other people. It wasn't about me. It was about my story, my testament, what I would overcome.

My celebration of all of this is mostly inward. I worked my new job in a new milestone career on Thursday. Suffering with a foot injury means I move slower, right now, which is both good and a bummer. I worked out, had a weekend preparing for Christmas/Hanukkah with family and giving back. Sunday I went to dinner with my family, had my favorite dessert, and opened gifts from my family, which included a stunning citrine stone and diamonds. Three diamonds, for the three persons of the Godhead, and also my 30s; a citrine stone because my favorite color is yellow and to remember to be happy with this journey.

As someone reminded me on my day, I am blessed and highly favored. I am new in His righteousness. I am no longer my own, but I am His, purchased with a high price.

It is good to remember, friends. But it’s even better to forget. I’m still working on letting go and forgetting the old things. The old Miriam. The old days of being lost and worried and unhappy. Embracing the new me is my mission, who God desires me to be.

I’ll try to post the full scope of my thoughts in story.

Here’s to the next decade, and what comes with the 30s.

and yes i did take some noir selfies of myself that i actually love. i haven't selfied in a long time. wearing one of my favorite things (a black blazer that makes me feel like a powerhouse) coupled with a good hair day all just cocktailed together don't judge me!

[neonblessing]

6.

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT! ⚠️ Click here to read Neon Blessing from the beginning!

Shiv pocketed the phone, then reached out and took Ornarch’s withered hand. “I’ll do it.”

Her god smiled. “I knew I could count on you.” With a twist of his long, thin fingers, a sleek black card appeared and found its way between her fingers. “Twenty thousand credits.”

Shiv nearly dropped the card in surprise. “Twenty thousand?!” The payout for picking a pocket was three digits at the highest: cards would be canceled long before they could be used, and there was always the risk that the mark might have augments or trackers. B&E paid better, but you needed to find a fence who could break into stolen electronics, and they were almost universally scum. The shit she and Raz had looted on the botched job could have been worth a hundred grand, even after a steep cut from both Ornarch and a middleman, but that had taken weeks of planning and cost her an arm. Twenty thousand up front was unthinkable.

Ornarch waved a hand dismissively, rings glinting in the industrial glare. “Grease some palms, hire some muscle, buy a gun. Whatever makes the job easier.”

“Thank you, lord.” She hesitated a moment, realizing she had no idea where to start looking. “Do you have any leads?”

“How were Raz’s finances?”

“About as broke as me, I think. Those implants cost a lot.”

“So they’d need to sell off some of the haul to get away from here. They aren’t safe in the Diluvian, and fare out of here is pricey.”

“I’ll ask around.”

“Wonderful.”

“Any idea as to why they did it?”

“No. No clue.” She almost choked on the words. That was the worst part, the bit that kept her up at night. What could have been so important that they’d just leave her?

“Ah well. Good luck, Shiv.” The dismissal, unspoken, was irrefutable. She would do what he wanted, he would give her what she wanted. The conversation was over. For all his immortality, Ornarch was not a patient god.

Shiv turned to leave, the roar of water rushing up to meet her as she approached the exit of the pipe. Could she even kill them? In a fistfight, even down an arm, definitely. Guns were a toss-up given that neither of them knew how to shoot. But of course, Raz was a skulljack, and a good one at that.

Skulljack. It was a dirty word, the worst kind of mage. Raz’s brilliant blue undercut hid dozens of neurocranial implants–translators and antennae and arcane batteries–all bent towards one terrible purpose: the subjugation of the will. In that dingy waiting room before their first operation, she’d told them not to do it, but she’d come to rely on their skills in the years since: skulljacking took too long to be useful in a fight, but it was priceless in an interrogation.

Of course, skulljacking was easier the better you knew someone, and they’d grown up together. Over a decade and a half, she and Raz had bared every last rotten secret–had aired out every scrap of encryption around their souls. They promised they’d never fuck with her, but would she know if they had? Even if they hadn’t, how long could she hold out against someone who knew her first crush, all her fears, and everything she’d ever dreamt of?

As she climbed the stairs back to street level, her nervous thoughts sublimated into a mantra, repeated with every step. 

I’m not who I was a month ago. That woman could never imagine killing them. I can.

First Page – Previous Page – Next Page

[spaceorphan18]

5 Times Kurt Talks About Sex and 1 Time He Doesn't (Part Two)

A/N: So, this was inspired the other day by a Nonny who was asking about how Kurt interacts with others on the topic of sex and this little idea popped in my head.

It’s a little mini-series, and I’ll post one part a day, then I’ll get it up on Ao3 after it’s complete.

It’s set in a post-canon-ish world when they’re all living in New York. The whole thing takes place over the course of a day.

Btw - for this one, I reference one of my other fics - With Every Broken Bone. You don't need to have read it or anything - but if you're wondering where I pulled the idea that Kurt had a one-night stand, that's where.

****

Conversation Two: Elliott

Kurt finishes the rest of his bagel and throws the paper wrapper into a nearby trash can.  He still has a full cup of coffee to enjoy, and even though the stand’s regular roast is a bit bland, he’ll still take all the cheap coffee he can get in a day.  

“You’re late,” Kurt says as he sips from the styrofoam cup.  It’s nearly eleven and he does have lunch plans, but he and Elliott have been taking a Saturday morning walk in Central Park for half a decade now, and Kurt isn’t one to change his routine so easily.  

“Yeah, I know, I know…” Elliott looks a little haggard.  Despite the spring sun shining around them, Elliott’s lacking his usual energetic demeanor.  “This guy I hooked up with didn’t want to leave the apartment.  He kept wanting to snuggle.” 

“Oh, the horror,” Kurt deadpans.  He motions to the stand but Elliott brushes it off, not seeming interested despite having the knowledge that this little food cart has the best cream cheese in the park.  Instead, they start down their usual path.  

“Yeah, and then he spent an hour telling me about his antique birdhouse collection,” Elliott says.  “I mean, you do you and everything, but I’ve got places to be.” 

“Why did you even pick this guy?” 

“Kurt, seriously…” Elliott stops them in their tracks a moment, and waits until an older woman walking her dog passes by.  “He had the most beautiful cock that I have ever seen.  I thought, when he sent me a pic, that he had doctored it somehow. But nope - good god, it was a work of art.  Okay, why the look?” 

“C’mon,” Kurt shrugs a little as they pick up walking again.  “Let’s not kid ourselves.  I may be fond of them, but the penis, by design, is hardly a work of art.” 

“This guy’s was.” 

“Fine, let’s say it was.  Did you really think the most artistically designed dick was really going to be attached to the world’s most perfect human specimen?” Kurt asks.  

“You know, you can judge me all you want - and, sure we only had, like, a sixty-seven percent match on the app,” Elliott continues.  “But I got to play with the most beautiful cock, possibly, in North America.” 

Kurt rolls his eyes a little, as he shakes his head.  All these stories seem to run the same after awhile, and it’s times like these, he’s glad he’s married and settled.  “Well, maybe next time you should downgrade a little and try a dick attached to a personality that better suits you.” 

Elliott eyes him sharply.  “It’s not like I’m expecting you to understand.” 

“Understand what?” 

Elliott plays it coy a little, which is unlike him.  “The allure of just wanting to enjoy a beautiful cock for what it is.” 

Kurt snaps his head abruptly. “I’ll have you know that Blaine has a--” 

Elliott holds up his hand to stop him.  “I have no doubt that whatever Blaine has is lovely.  But Kurt, how many actual pensises have you seen in real life?” 

Kurt scrunches his nose.  “More than I’ve ever asked for.  I’ve seen yours.” 

Elliott grumbles.  “Yeah, cause you don’t know how to knock before entering a room.  No, I mean, how many have you seen actually up close? Two?” 

“It’s been more than two,” Kurt says defensively. 

“Has it?” 

Kurt grumbles into his coffee, wondering why numbers are even important.  “Fine, if we’re really going to go there… I mean, Blaine, obviously.  Myself.”

“You can’t count yourself.” 

“Ug, alright, well when Blaine and I broke up the first time I dated this British guy named Adam.”

“Oh god, you would date a British guy,” Elliott chuckled.  “Did he also have a tattoo of the queen on his thing?” 

“No,” Kurt shot back.  “He was really pale though.” He slowed his walk to think about it further.  “There was that one-night stand I had the summer after I called off the engagement.  But, you know, I can’t even remember it all that well.” 

“What about that dude who was older than your dad?” Elliott asks, wiggling his eyebrows as if it was a scandalous secret Kurt had kept all these years.

“Oh my god - I had forgotten about Walter…” Kurt replies.  That had barely been a thing. “Yeah, we may have messed around a little.  You know, his dick was much nicer than you’d expect.  But my god, he did not know what to do with it.  I honestly felt really bad for his ex-wife.”

“And…if my calculations are right, that’d bring us back to Blaine, so unless there’s a threesome in there that I don’t know about that brings your total to five.” 

Kurt continues to sip his coffee, still mulling it over.  “I mean…there was the one time I had to do a sex scene in a play, and I caught more than my fair share of my scene partner’s junk.  But he had some weird stuff going on under the hood, so probably not even worth mentioning.  I mean, like, weird piercings weird.” 

“Ew.” 

“I know.” 

“So, there we have it,” Elliott says. He holds his hands out wide, as if some great conclusion had been stumbled upon.  “My point stands.” 

“There was a point to this?”

“What I’m saying is this,” Elliot says.  “You’ve tried, like, five flavors of ice cream and decided you were done when there’s a vast array of ice cream flavors just waiting to be tasted.  And, sure, some may leave you bloated and gross and won’t shut up about endangered birds of North America but my god it was worth it while you were eating it.” 

“Why do people always use ice cream when making their sex metaphors?” 

“Who doesn’t love ice cream?” 

“Lesbians, probably.”

“It’s a multipurpose metaphor, Kurt, and you’re intentionally getting off topic.” 

“I just think it’s a ridiculous point,” Kurt says, a layer of irritation in his voice.  How is this a conversation they even ended up having?  “Have you ever stopped to think about quality over quantity? How many guys, on average, do you think you pick up a week?” 

Elliott thinks it over.  “I don’t know, maybe one or two on a good week.”  

“Wow - I didn’t realize it was that many.” 

“You’re being judgy again, Kurt…”

“Anyway…” Kurt says, with a long gulp of his coffee - lamenting that he’s almost done with the cup. “On average, I’d say Blaine and I mess around three or four times a week.  So, comparatively, I’m having my expensive, always satisfying sweet treat twice as often and always at my disposal while you scrounge around trying to engorge yourself on any freezer burned dessert in a decently wrapped package, trying to trick yourself into thinking that the ice cream sandwich stuck at the bottom is marginally better because it has that chocolate cookie included, but once you try it, it’s not nearly as edible as it initially looked. Well, you can keep your most likely chemically encrusted, cheap ice cream.  I want my gourmet vanilla with caramel sauce every time. ” 

Elliott remains quiet for a long beat.  “I think you killed the metaphor.” 

“Well, it was your metaphor,” Kurt shoots back.  “Besides, would you have preferred me to say that my husband might not be breaking the art world with his cock but his is the most beautiful to me and I would rather be fucked by that than by anything else?” 

Elliott lets out a hearty laugh. “Kurt, I love it when you're poetically crude."

Kurt grumbles again as he tosses the empty coffee cup into a trash can on the side of the path.  “And for the record, there’s nothing wrong with liking birds.” 

“What does that have to do with anything?” 

“Nothing - Don’t worry about it.”

[nehswritesstuffs]

Father Like Son, Mother Like Daughter, Parent Like Child - Part 4 of 4

This one ended up being even longer than the last, wtf... at least we’re done now lol

First chapter on [tumblr] - [FFN] - [AO3] 

Second chapter on [tumblr] - [FFN] - [AO3]

Prior chapter on [tumblr] - [FFN] - [AO3]

With the Straw Hats dispersed due to Bartholomew Kuma, it’s time for more than just them to brace for the incoming Age. [11,422 words; AU where Cora-san and Bell-mère raised their six kids in the East Blue and everyone is better-adjusted ]

Nojiko gasped as she saw the newspaper, headlines cementing some of her worst fears in quick succession.

STRAW HAT PIRATES ELIMINATED IN DRAMATIC SHOWDOWN

BACK FROM THE DEAD? “STRAW HAT” LUFFY LEADS PRISON REVOLT, DESTROYS IMPEL DOWN

WHITEBEARD, PORTGAS D. ACE DEAD IN EPIC WAR AT MARINEFORD

SIBLINGS? PIRATICAL CONNECTIONS BAFFLE NAVAL INTELLIGENCE

It appeared as though the past few days had been extremely eventful for family members not-her. She went through the articles and tried to figure out if her idiot seafaring siblings were all okay. There was nothing saying that the Heart Pirates weren’t alright, and if her sister’s idiot captain could survive being attacked by Kuma…

“I might just murder the lot of them,” she decided to no one in particular. “No note, no word, no nothing! Not even anything out of Mom and Dad! I’ll kill them!”

“Uhh… Miss Nojiko…?” She looked and saw her tweenaged hired help standing there, confusion on his face and a bushel of mikans in his hands. Oh yeah, that’s right: she had been working in the grove when the newspaper arrived. “Is everything okay…?”

“Maybe? Possibly? I don’t know…” She rolled up the paper and stuffed it in her apron pocket. “You got any siblings, Chabo?”

“No ma’am.”

“Good—they’re only reliable for causing trouble and running up your blood pressure.”

“Uhh… yes, ma’am… if you say so…”

He really hoped he was going to survive this shift.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The doors to Sengoku’s office were violently kicked open, causing the old man to jump in surprise at his desk. To his even bigger surprise, a woman he hadn’t seen in-person for nearly twenty years came barging in, pure fury on her face.

“What the fuck are you up to, Sengoku?!” she snapped. She completely ignored the goat bleating in confusion at her and stormed up to the desk, slamming her hands on the surface. “I’m waiting.”

“It’s been a long time, Captain Cocoyasi,” he stated. “Please clarify: what brings you from your hometown, into a secure government facility, past my guards, and into my office?”

“You put a child on the chopping block for something he could never control and tried to escape,” she hissed. “Your subordinates almost murdered my children. When is this going to end?!”

“You came all the way from the East to remind me of how terrible my job is? That’s what I have Garp for.”

“Both of you are fucking idiots and honestly deserve whatever this New Age deals you.” Bell-mère folded her arms across her chest and scowled at the man in front of her. The goat kept gently butting its head against her thigh—it wanted treats and pets and she wasn’t giving either.

“Was that really your daughter…?” Sengoku asked quietly. “The Straw Hat navigator?”

“Don’t play dumb with me; I know you meddled with her bounty.”

“He can’t do much for his grandchildren, Belle, but he can at least do that.”

Sengoku silently stood as he looked towards the office door, the new voice slightly deeper and rougher than he remembered. Cora stepped through into the room and he lingered by the door with his hands in his pockets.

“Ro… Rosinante…?”

“Yeah,” the younger man affirmed. “It’s me.”

Shakily, Sengoku rushed to Cora and enveloped him in a hug. Tears choked his words as he held the boy he raised, cursing their near-multiple decades apart, only to realize something…

…his boy wasn’t hugging back.

“How much blood is on your hands?”

The question cut through Sengoku swift and precise. He let go of Cora and allowed the man to step further into the office, enough to look out the window upon the training grounds below. Everything was a fucking mess—rebuilding could have become cost-prohibitive.

“All I’ve done is what I’ve had to,” Sengoku stated, making sure the door was closed. “I’ve never run from it.”

“My daughter declared war on you,” Cora said darkly. A chill overcame Sengoku and the older man suddenly felt very exposed. “She declared war as she went to raid Enies Lobby, to rescue her friend, who you have been hunting for twenty years. That woman is not old enough to have committed a crime punishable by bounty… not if it was committed two decades ago.”

“I did what I had to do,” Sengoku repeated. Something sinister bubbled just below the surface of his words; he knew what this was about. His tone set something ablaze in Cora, there was no more time for excuses.

“Children died because of you! Nations erased because of you!”

“Don’t you think you know the choices I had to make!” the older man snapped. “Unlike you, I never ran away!”

“Then what else didn’t you run away from?!” Cora spat. “If you didn’t run away from Ohara and making that poor girl’s life a living hell, then what else did you approve?! Did you give the orders to murder my daughters’ families in Oykot and eliminate those who protested?!”

“Rosinante!”

“Do I only have my sons because you pulled the trigger on Flevance?!”

“You are out of line! There was nothing else I could have done!”

“Stop lying to me! You killed them! You might not have been there, but it was your orders behind it! Admit it! Flevance is dead in part because of you!”

“Their own hubris was what did them in!”

“Hubris?! You want to blame this on hubris?! If anyone’s hubris is to blame it’s the Government’s! The nobility who fled with only a trace of Amber Lead in their blood and their pockets lined in money! My son’s parents were slaughtered while trying to cure what you ran away from! He would look at his sisters and cry, because all he could do was remember the one who died in his arms! Do you think those three possessed enough hubris to deserve to die from it?!”

“You were not there, Rosinante! You do not know the depths of these decisions!”

“Cora.” The fleet admiral looked at him, eyebrow raised. “My name is Cora.”

“Rosinante…”

“The man said his name is Cora,” Bell-mère said idly. She was half-leaning, half sitting on the desk, looking at the things that covered it. “One of our middle kids gave him that name, you know… though I doubt it was the one responsible for this.” She picked up a picture frame and examined the contents: her and her husband on their wedding day. “This looks like our other middle brat’s work. She’s a clever one—safest for the world she stays farmer.”

Silence settled over the office and the two men glared at one another.

“You want to throw everything away for some misguided kids?” Sengoku asked. “Kids that have been exposed to who knows how many lies since they left your home?”

“Compared to the lies I was fed?” Cora walked back to Sengoku, standing close enough to smell the man’s cologne. “Stay away from my children, do you hear me?”

“I’m the only thing keeping those kids from being hunted down like animals.”

“Wouldn’t that get in the way of Justice? You always did wear your guilt a little differently.” Neither man broke eye contact, the stare-down tense. “Belle, we’re leaving.”

“You sure? It’s kind of fun watching you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He waited for Bell-mère to open the office door before taking a step back. “You know, I always felt sorry for Garp growing up. I guess it’s his son and surviving grandson I should pity.”

“You’re an adult, Rosinante. You should know that sometimes good choices don’t exist.”

“That’s why we change the game, to make the good choices anyhow.” Cora turned on his heel and left the office, Bell-mère flashing Sengoku her middle fingers before backing out into the corridor and following him.

“Yeah, you’re not getting an inheritance,” Bell-mère snarked as she and Cora navigated the base’s corridors, dodging people who were looking at them in all manner of confusion. A few even dropped the papers they were carrying in surprise, having been around long enough to remember them both.

Those days were gone now, and they were the only survivors.

“I should have done this earlier,” Cora admitted. They turned a corner and went down a flight of stairs, heading towards the entrance. He tripped over himself and began to fall, with Bell-mère catching him by the collar before he could take a proper tumble.

“Telling him off now compared to ten years ago wouldn’t’ve made a damn bit of difference,” she scoffed. Once they were off the staircase they immediately went outside, where the sun was so bright they nearly had to shield their eyes. “Take it for what it’s worth; he didn’t kick us out or try to arrest us.”

“Almost wish he had.”

“So that what? We can get high on the shit list too? This is all such a fucking mess.” They made their way over to the docks, only to find that there was a stranger sitting in their boat. It was a young woman, barely older than their eldest daughter, with large, round eyes and a casual air about her.

“We’re not a hire service—fuck off,” Cora said. The young woman did not move.

“Never thought you were, Corazón,” she said. “Apologies; do you prefer Donquixote Rosinante? Maybe Commander Donquixote?”

“Is this something meant to scare me? Because it’s not working.”

“Trying to scare either of you is counter-productive,” the stranger stated. “Cora, Bell-mère, my boss would like to have a word with you. He doesn’t want your pity—it’s something more valuable he wants to discuss.” She took a red envelope from her pocket and held it out, a casual smile on her lips.

An envelope with a dragon printed on it.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Luffy woke up with a gasp. His whole body felt weak and shook terribly. The air smelled funny and he felt like he wanted to vomit. He did do just that, in fact, rolling over and deciding that the contents of his stomach needed to be on the floor instead. Shifting to lay on his back again, he groaned in discomfort, though snapped to full awareness as something hit the pillow next to his head…

Correction: a sword stabbed the bit of pillow next to his head.

“Strawhat-ya,” Law growled. Luffy’s eyes went wide as he saw his fellow Supernova lording above him, murderous conviction oozing from his very being. He was straddling him, knees on either side of his waist as his hands held shakily onto the sword’s hilt, his own eyes glinting in something feral… something powerful… something vengeful. Somewhere nearby, he could hear Hancock being restrained by some others… huh… he was back on the girl island…?

“Oh, hi Torao,” the younger man smiled warily. “Were you the one who patched me up?”

“Where. Is. My. Sister?”

Luffy blinked, unsure how to respond.

“WHERE IS MY SISTER?!” Spit flew from his mouth and tears welled in his eyes. “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU LET HAPPEN TO HER?!”

“Torao, I…”

“WHERE DID KUMA SEND HER?!”

“I DON’T KNOW!”

“Law, come on, he just woke up…”

“I don’t care, Penguin,” Law snarled. “All I want is our sister, safe.”

“Don’t you think that’s something I want too?!” Luffy snapped back. “Nami’s my navigator! I don’t want any other! I don’t want any other crew! I want them! I want… I want…!” It was Luffy’s turn to cry, as everything hit him at once. “I want my big brother back! I want Ace!” He curled into a ball underneath Law, who straightened in order to look at this boy—he was just a boy, wasn’t he—sob pathetically as he mourned not only his crew, but his family as well.

Fuck… maybe it was meant to shake out this way after all.

Standing up, Law pulled his sword from the bedding and sheathed it, stepping back from the distraught teen. He could feel his own older brothers’ hands on his shoulders and his breath hitched—it was something that Luffy was never going to feel again with Portgas and the rest of the crew gone, wasn’t it?

“He just lost everyone,” Shachi said lowly. “Give the kid some space.”

“Every speck of time helps, and he’s the only one with any answers,” Law replied. He watched as Hancock went to Luffy’s side and began fussing over him, pillowing his head in her lap and smoothing his hair. Jinbe and Granny Nyon both looked at one another awkwardly, not knowing how much of what was going on was necessarily… appropriate.

“Then maybe you need to make the answers for yourselves,” said a voice. The brothers looked over to see that Rayleigh had returned to the room, observing the scene meticulously. “Luffy didn’t mean for any of this to happen just as much as you did—in a lot of ways to him, Nami’s as much his sister as she is to you.”

“Ray-ya, I don’t know if you understand how much we need to see our sister again… how much I need to see her and know she’s safe.”

“Then I suggest you get going on training,” the old man said. “Two years is a long time, but once it’s over, then it won’t seem like any time at all. You’ll need to take care while the Age is shifting or you will get left behind. You don’t want that sassy ginger girl to be stronger than you when she gets back, do you?”

“That would defeat the purpose of being the protective older brothers,” Penguin said. His brothers all nodded quietly. It was then that Bepo returned with a few more of the Kuja, the only one of them seemingly allowed to go wherever he wished sans a guard with exception of Rayleigh. “Everyone ready to go?”

“Yeah—Ikkaku says it’s best we leave soon as possible, so that none of the Kuja get too curious about the Tang,” he said. Bepo noticed Luffy was now awake and shifted awkwardly. “Is everything alright?”

“We have work to do,” Law stated. He handed Bepo his nodachi and approached Luffy again, ignoring the glares he was getting from the Empress. Crouching down, he stared at his sister’s captain until he stopped crying long enough to look at him. “Monkey D. Luffy.”

“Yeah, Torao?”

“Now you also know what it’s like to lose a sibling too soon. Do not disappoint me.”

At that, Law stood and began walking towards the door. His brothers followed, only for them to stop at the sound of Luffy’s voice.

“I’m going to become stronger! And stronger! And stronger! And stronger!” the young captain claimed. “I’m never going to lose anyone ever again!” Law turned around and saw Luffy standing, hands clenched in anger.

“It stings, doesn’t it? Losing someone like that?”

“You don’t know what I’ve lost,” Luffy snapped. “Don’t pretend like you do.”

“Now we’re on the same page.” Law snapped up a Room and twitched his wrist, a pile of goop appearing in Hancock’s lap. “That should stave off the sinus headache that comes from that amount of crying; I’m holding you to it, Strawhat-ya.”

“TRAFALGAR!” Hancock raged, having realized what the goop was soaking into her skirt.

“Oh shit gotta go!” Shachi grimaced, pulling his middle brother along. The four scrambled to make their way out of the castle, with Law shambling them halfway to the docks once they were outside.

“You’re an idiot!” Penguin snapped. “I want to come back here! We want to come back here!”

“We’re literally some of the only men to have ever seen this place and lived!” Shachi added. “Doesn’t that honor mean anything to you?!”

“You two are just horny,” Law deadpanned. Both his older brothers stumbled mid-stride—what a low blow.

“Get them!” someone yelled over the square. “They dishonored the Empress! Don’t let them get away!”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!” Shachi cursed, all of them sprinting fast as they could now. Law caught sight of the Tang and threw up a Room, dropping him and his brothers on the deck.

“Prepare to dive!” he ordered. His crew all stared at him for half a second before hurriedly rushing below deck. Only when they were safely underwater could they breathe, with Bepo gently elbowing Shachi.

“I think you meant to say ‘snot, snot, snot, snot, snot’ back there.”

Okay… maybe it was a little funny.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Two years passed in uncomfortable ease.

The rains came, the sun shone, the mikan harvest needed picking.

Power shifted.

A fractured crew trained on their own, refusing to let distance drive a wedge in their hearts.

Others prepared in their own way, yearning for the day they could put plans into action.

Alive Only, the entire time.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Nami honestly felt great. It was better than she’d felt in a long time—two whole years, in fact—and she was beyond glad to be back with her crew.

“Look! It’s the Sunny!” Chopper gasped. He and Usopp hopped off the Bon Chari and ran the rest of the way to their ship, immediately getting drawn into something ridiculous by… oh, seas, was that Franky…?

“Nami! You look well!” The young woman looked at the sound of her name and saw Robin standing on the deck. A warm smile brightened her face, which quickly spread to Nami as well.

“Robin! It’s so good to see you!” She attempted to ignore the boys as she brought her shopping bags aboard. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed having someone sane around~!”

“This sounds like you’ve got plenty to share involving your time away,” Robin chuckled. She took a quick glance and saw that Usopp and Chopper were still occupied with Franky’s new modifications. “Why don’t we put our things away before the crew’s get even more hectic?”

“Ugh, you’re right.” See? This was why Nami liked Robin; despite the creepy predictions and weird sense of humor, she was absolutely the only other person on the ship with a brain. Most of the time.

Trudging up the stairs, Nami and Robin both brought their bags into their room. Nami put hers on her bed and began to go through them, putting her new things away. She got through a couple bags before she turned around and saw Robin, the other woman sitting calmly at the table, watching her.

“Is… anything the matter…?” she asked.

“I’m just glad to be back,” Robin said. “You’re my family—there’s been plenty to process over these past two years.”

“Yeah…?”

“Yeah.”

After letting out a long sigh, Robin stood and walked over to Nami, bringing the younger woman into a hug. They stayed like that for a while, both taking strength from the other after so long apart.

“Just remember: after all we’ve been through, I don’t doubt you for a moment,” Robin said. “You are better than what came before you.”

��Robin…? What is this about…?”

“I was in a position to do a bit of digging while we were separated,” the archaeologist admitted. “Nothing much, but it’s enough to where I know a bit more than everyone lets on.”

“Considering how you are normally, that’s a lot,” Nami replied. “I trust you; don’t play your hand unless it’s necessary. I think you’re the best at that out of all of us.”

“Then I shall,” Robin agreed. “Now, let’s see what the boys have going on before something disfiguring happens, hmm?”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Setting up shop on Punk Hazard really did seem like a good idea at the time, Law thought as he wandered the corridors, though with each passing moment, it felt as though something was closing in on him. He had so far been unable to access the experiments that Cesar was working on, not to mention the combination of Monet and Pugio keeping an extremely tight grip on him for people who otherwise couldn’t care less. The Marine seemed almost nonchalant about it, in fact; there was something about him that put the young Warlord on-edge, and he wasn’t entirely certain what. It nagged at the back of his brain, making him more jittery than usual, especially now that he was staring down even more Marines on the front doorstep.

“You’re not supposed to be here, Shichibukai,” Vice Admiral Smoker stated. He and Captain Tashigi had nearly a hesitant air about them, while the G-5 mooks behind them were very clearly itching for a fight.

The dichotomy was… odd.

“What can I say? This is my home now.”

“I have it under good authority that it isn’t,” Smoker replied. “Now stop the act and let us in—we’ve got to talk.”

“I don’t know what I could possibly have to talk to you about,” Law said. “Leave me alone; consider this my Kuraigana.”

“Don’t think you’re able to play tough guy with us,” Smoker spat. Tashigi was readying to prevent the conversation from coming to blows when noises began to filter out from inside. “What’s that?”

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“Then you might need to get your ears checked, or does Marine insurance even cover that?”

Just then, the door on the other side of Law burst open, dozens of people piling out into the cold. Most of them were children of varying sizes—giant infants and toddlers alongside normal ones—as well as… shit… some Straw Hats… was she…?

The sight of his sister made his blood run cold.

“Law-nii…?!”

“Nami, you shouldn’t be here,” he scolded. Despite the warning, he nearly ran to her, bringing her into a tight hug as tears streamed down his face. Suddenly remembering their audience, he opened a Room and popped a coat off a Marine and onto her shoulders before stepping between her and the G-5 contingent.

“I thought you said no one was here,” Smoker deadpanned.

“This is a new development.”

“Anyhow; this makes things less troublesome.” Smoker looked at the others, narrowing his eyes critically. “Let’s get these kids inside! They shouldn’t be out in this weather!”

“…but we’re escaping!” one of the larger children insisted.

“We don’t know what you’re escaping from,” Tashigi said, “but we’re the good guys! We’re here to help, but we have to stay inside a little while longer so we can figure out what to do with you!” She then turned her attention back to her subordinates, who were all rightly very confused. “Come on—you heard the Vice Admiral! Get the kids back inside!”

Grumbling, the Marines all did as they were told, herding the children back inside. Law and the Straw Hats stood off to the side, the Surgeon of Death refusing to let go of his sister.

“Where in the hell did you all come from?” Law asked.

“We could ask the same, to be fair,” Franky mentioned. “Why are you here, Tra-bro?”

“Oi! Don’t lock us out!”

Just as the Marines were about to close the door, a large… alligator-centuar…? Yes, an alligator-centuar came skittering inside, with the remainder of the Straw Hats on his back.

“Hey guys! Look what we found!” Luffy cackled, holding up a pair of legs. Sanji held up a severed head, which seemed to sob in relief. “Oh, hey, you found the head! And Torao!”

“Strawhat-ya,” Law regarded flatly.

“Good; we’re missing no one,” Smoker said, coming over to the group. He stared at the torso-less body and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Was this your doing, Shichibukai?”

“Shichibukai?!” Nami gasped in horror. She began hitting Law on the shoulder, the too-long sleeves of her coat beating against him floppily. “Are?! You?! In?! Sane?!”

“Hey!” he grunted. “A lot has happened!”

“It still doesn’t change the fact you apparently cut a guy into three and spread the pieces,” Smoker said.

“He shouldn’t’ve been irritating,” Law shrugged. He watched as Luffy perched himself on Smoker’s shoulders—honest to goodness his sandals were on the man’s shoulders—and he raised an eyebrow. “You two sure are chummy.”

“It’s not mutual, I assure you,” Smoker grumbled. Tashigi saw what was going on and attempted to disengage Luffy, which only caused him to drape himself over Zoro’s shoulders instead, who barely seemed to register the extra weight.

“Smoker and Tashigi know Mom and Dad,” Nami said, keeping her eyes on the Marine officers. Law considered that, then nodded.

“So, then I trust that I can discuss freely with everyone here?”

“If you have a way to muffle sound, then that would help immensely,” Robin said, her attention more on the other Marines. Law put up a pair of Rooms, one just slightly bigger than the other. Smoker then added some of his smoke between them and it began to woosh around, creating a makeshift sound barrier. “Now then, what is it that you have to say?”

“I’m going to take down an Emperor,” Law said frankly, “and I’m going to do it in one of the most effective ways possible.” The others were quiet at the admission, waiting for him to elaborate.

“How do you propose that?” Usopp cringed. “We’re not talking small-fry here.”

“There’s a very specific pressure point that, if hit, can help take down at least Kaidou, maybe even destabilize enough to get Big Mom as well.”

“That sounds insane, Law-nii,” Nami frowned. “What ‘pressure point’ do you honestly think will be that effective at sabotaging a veteran pirate and pirating lord?”

Law stared directly into Nami’s eyes and took a deep breath. “Uncle Doffy.”

Nami’s jaw dropped as she realized what her brother was saying. Their uncle?! Was he insane?! Her crewmates noticed her shock and all glared at Law.

“We’ve never heard anything about you two having an uncle until now,” Luffy said. He was now on Franky’s shoulder, picking his own nose. “What’s all that about?”

“It’s a long story, but essentially,” Nami cringed, “we have the weirdest family and every even mildly weird family has a rich and eccentric uncle no one likes to talk about.”

“Ha!” Usopp couldn’t help but laugh awkwardly at that. “What, is he, like, a renegade Warlord or something?” Law and Nami both stared at him, which made the sniper shudder. “Oh no…”

“This is an issue,” Smoker stated. “We don’t have the authority to go after your uncle; from a Government standpoint, he is untouchable.”

“Well, then the rest of us can help take him down!” Luffy grinned. He draped one arm over Nami’s shoulders and the other over Law’s. “You can’t help who you’re related to sometimes, but that does mean it can be your business to stop them from doing bad stuff. Who is it?”

“Yeah!” Brook piped up. “We’ve all been so busy and bone-tired these past two years, we’ve rarely read the paper!”

“Whoever it is, Nami-swan, I’m sure we can help!”

“Really, Luffy, maybe I should go with my brothers once this is all done—wait, where are Bepo-nii and the goons?”

“Bepo is doing recon right now—I’m here to hit the flint and get sparks going.”

“Naaamiii, Toooraaaooo, who’s your uncle…?!”

“I just remembered,” Nami said briskly, “that I don’t think I ever told any of you my family name.”

“Isn’t it Trafalgar?” Chopper wondered. The rest of the Straw Hats were a mixture of curiosity, like Brook; confusion, like Zoro; intrigue, like Robin; and something close to fear out of Sanji.

“I’m not getting rid of my original family name,” Law explained. “My siblings—however—none of them had a family name before, so they technically have Dad’s.”

“Both of you are stalling,” Zoro scowled. Nami took a deep breath and exhaled… she could do this.

“My name is Donquixote Nami,” she grimaced, “and my uncle is the Shichibukai and current King of Dressrosa Donquixote Doflamingo, otherwise known to the black market and criminal underworld as Joker. He is my dad’s brother by blood as well as name.”

The Room went deathly quiet, everyone staring at Nami and Law until Luffy burst into laughter.

“Oh, is that all?” he chuckled. “I don’t like the sound of that guy anyhow. Let’s kick his ass!”

“He’s dumber than we thought, sir,” Tashigi marveled. Smoker simply facepalmed.

“It’s nice to hear you speak truthfully, Nami,” Robin smiled. She then glanced over her shoulder to see the children and the G-5 Marines getting on disturbingly well. “We still have some more pressing things to take care of, it seems.”

“The children being here is a big one,” Chopper noted. “They’re being experimented on! I don’t think that’s something that the World Government knows about.”

“Despite this being one of Vegapunk’s old facilities? I doubt,” Tashigi said. “This general area is known for child disappearances and deaths, though something tells me that by asking some of these kids question, we’re going to find plenty of answers.”

“We saw ships on our way in bearing the initials C.C.,” Smoker added. He looked at Law. “Is Cesar Clown here?”

“Along with a lab assistant named Monet possessing a Devil Fruit and a Marine vice admiral—”

“Pugio…?” Smoker and Tashigi both asked at once.

“Sounds like you weren’t here just to see me; I’m hurt,” Law joked flatly.

“Well, let’s get going,” Luffy grinned. “I’m hungry, and all our food is aboard the Sunny!”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was late that night as the Thousand Sunny sailed peacefully towards Dressrosa. Although there had been no sight of Vice Admiral Pugio despite his earlier presence, Monet had been quickly dispatched and Cesar Clown was unconscious and tied to the mast. Everyone had long finished dinner and had dispersed into their evening routines. Nami found her brother sulking by himself in the aquarium bar, his arm slung over the back of the bench as he rested his chin against it, staring into the tank.

“Hey.” He didn’t move. “So… there’s a lot to catch up on, isn’t there?”

“Not really.”

“We just spent two years without contact—before, it was only a few months at most.”

She sat down next to him and waited; there was only one true way to break through Law’s moody spells and that was patience. Eventually, he looked at her, bringing his arm down so that his head rested directly on the bench.

“I might have stolen Luffy from the Summit War and treated his injuries just so I could threaten him over your safety when he woke up,” he admitted.

“Okay… on-brand for you,” she chuckled. “I was on an artificial sky island called Weatheria learning about weather from these weird old men.”

“I stole the hearts of a hundred pirates to buy my way into the Shichibukai.”

“I was literally in possession of the only vagina on the island.” Law closed his eyes and smiled, trying poorly to not laugh. “What? You doubt me?”

“Exactly the opposite,” he smirked. He straightened in his seat and nodded as he looked at his sister in the wan aquarium light. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, dumbass.” She pulled her legs up, hugging them so she could rest her chin on her knees. “Bepo-nii’s really waiting for us in Dressrosa?”

“Yeah—he’s got the safehouse and an escape route all planned, on top of looking for the factory.”

“What about Peng-nii and Sach-nii?”

“They…” He trailed off, not knowing how to continue. “We… we fought… about a year ago now. I don’t know where they are.”

“What…?! What in the hell did you fight about?”

“They wanted to funnel information to Sengoku’s other son, saying it would be better to put military pressure on Uncle Doffy. I refused.”

“It was enough to break up over?”

“Yeah.” Law avoided eye contact, hoping it would help him keep his composure. “Our family is falling apart, Nami. Our older brothers are nowhere to be found, you were presumed dead for two years, no one’s heard hell or high water from Mom and Dad since they told off Dad’s dad—not even Nojiko’s gotten a letter from them…”

“Mom and Dad are missing?!”

“Yeah. I’ve been looking, but…” He shivered. “I don’t know if you, Nojiko, Bepo, and me are the only ones left. Up until today, I thought I only had one brother and one sister remaining.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I know from experience.”

“Law-nii, that was different. You are different.”

“I can’t remember my first family’s faces, you know.” It was quiet between them, only the aquarium making noise. “Every time I try to remember them, I think of our family instead. Mom and Dad… Nojiko… our brothers… it’s them I see… I try to think of my kid sister, but for some reason her hair is orange instead of brown…”

“Law-nii…”

“That’s why I have to do this,” he continued. “Uncle Doffy has fucked us up so irreparably that there’s nothing I can do except take him down. I can’t let him take the rest of you away… not when I’m so close.”

“If anyone should take him down, it’s Dad.”

“Yeah, except I was there when Dad had the chance—he almost died, Nami. Dad had him right there and couldn’t pull the trigger. He’s…” His voice grew quiet as he remembered that day. “…he’s not like him.”

“One’s a farmer and the other’s a criminal mastermind… it’s kind of obvious.” She leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder. “I wonder what kind of a man Grandpapa Homing was like, if he turned out both Dad and Uncle Doffy.”

“Dad said he was kind and loving; very open-hearted. Uncle Doffy said he was weak, pathetic, and foolish.” He paused, unsure of how to continue. “Hey… uh… Nami…?”

“…yeah…?”

“Can you… do that thing Mom used to do?”

“Yeah.”

She took her weight off him and allowed her brother to shift so that his head was in her lap. Her one hand gently carded through his hair while the other rested on his neck, her thumb rubbing soft circles against the nape. She hummed a soft tune—a bawdy sailor’s shanty that was more lullaby than anything when slow and wordless, and let him melt into her touch. His whole body seemed to relax as she continued, going through the entire song before stopping.

“What are we going to do now?” she asked, voice quiet.

“Use Cesar Clown as bait and get our uncle in a position where I can strike him down.”

“You don’t have to do it alone.”

Silence.

“Remember Law-nii… you’re not alone.”

He didn’t answer her, for he was already lost in thought. The ship wasn’t far out from Dressrosa anymore and he was ready to put his plan into action… even if it killed him.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Sitting in the Royal Palace, surrounded by a lavish display of opulence and might, Doflamingo read over a report given to him by a sentry toy, rushed in as he finished up breakfast. From the looks of things, it appeared that he was going to get a visitor soon… fufufu… how fortuitous…

“Mank, Fahkon,” he said, a grin upon his lips. Two of the guards stepped forward—one bald and the other peroxide-blond, both with their employer’s signature sunglasses as the rest of their unit—and saluted. “It appears as though my favorite nephew is finally coming home to take his rightful spot at my side whether he realizes it or not. I want you to initiate Protocol Corazón. Now.”

“Yes, sir!” the men replied before leaving. Doflamingo looked back at the report, examining the photograph that had been included. It was Law on Punk Hazard, a security camera having caught him with a protective arm around a woman… hmm… not just any woman, but the Straw Hat’s navigator…

Oh, he was going to have fun with this.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Everything was going relatively smoothly, considering all the working parts of the plan. Doflamingo had gone and resigned his spot from the Shichibukai, publicly giving up his position as a Warlord. He called Law’s bluff and agreed to meet him on Green Bit, where there would be a trade-off involving handing Cesar directly over to Doflamingo while—unbeknownst to Joker—some of the others destroyed the SMILE factory.

Well, it would be if some other people would stick to the plan.

“I’m going to need you three to hang back while I make the exchange,” Law said. He and the rest of the Cesar Hand-Over Team were walking through the streets, nearly at Primula. Nami quickly appeared at his side, an unamused expression on her face.

“I did not give up being in the relative safety of the Sunny just to watch you go in alone,” she frowned.

“Nose-ya, I trust that you can control my sister should something come up?”

“If you think I can control Nami, then you’re even more insane than I thought,” Usopp shuddered. Robin chuckled quietly from her spot next to Cesar.

“Our Nami is fiercely protective of her own—no doubt a trait she picked up from her elder siblings.”

“I can’t believe you lot are the ones I have to suffer through,” Cesar grumbled. “Of all the upstart little shits, it had to be these upstart little shits.”

“Don’t get too fussy now, or Doflamingo’s going to get his favorite science bitch back in a bit rougher of shape than intended,” Law warned.

“That’s not nice,” Nami mentioned.

“It’s accurate.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s still not nice.”

“Isn’t this the fountain?” Robin asked. The group stopped and looked at the center of the neighborhood square—there was indeed a fountain, topped with what looked like a dancing woman. They checked the map just to confirm—without a doubt.

“So this is where Bepo-nii was going to meet up with us?” Nami frowned. “It looks more like a place for someone to meet a date.”

“Doesn’t matter; he should be here by now,” Law scowled. He checked the clock on a nearby building, with Robin and Usopp silently noting how similar the siblings’ facial expressions were. “He had explicit instructions.”

“You know the fuzzball than I do, and even I know that’s a pretty hard sell,” Nami deadpanned. Law sighed—his sister was right. “He was to establish our routes and meet us here—it was supposed to be a no-brainer. Leave it to the most neurotic of our brothers to screw up a no-brainer.”

“I’m sure he does his best,” Robin chuckled. She then saw a nervous-looking bear looking around the square and smiled. “I think he might be more on-time than we think.”

Just then, the bear caught sight of the group and tried not to rush towards them. While the bear’s fur was brown, there was no mistaking the tears in his eyes.

“I can’t believe it’s you, Gingersnap!” the bear sobbed, picking up Nami in a tight hug.

“You look… different…” Usopp said.

“It’s a disguise—nothing permanent,” Bepo explained. “Everything’s clear to the Green Bit bridge. It’s dangerous, but I think we can handle it. When I realized who you were bringing along, I instantly felt better!”

“Where is the rest of your crew?” Robin wondered.

“Safe; Bepo dropped them off at a secure location before coming here,” Law said. “Now… let’s get to Green Bit so we can get this over with.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Once recovered from the shock, ugly tears and snot ran down Luffy’s face as he hugged Sabo for the first time in a long time. He hugged so tightly that it was clear he didn’t want to let go, which made his brother chuckle.

“Ay! Wudduh yuh think yer doin’?!” Bartolomeo snarled. “Mistah Luffy needs t’concentrate before goin’ back out!”

“I’m going to handle that,” Sabo said. Luffy looked at him in bewilderment.

“…but…!”

“You just concentrate on helping out your crew take down Doflamingo—some of my associates are already en route.” Luffy blinked and Sabo chuckled. “They’re headed to King’s Plateau as we speak.”

“Where have you been?!”

“I hit my head so hard that I forgot everything we’d been through until very recently,” he admitted. “Now get those things off so you can go and Lucy can keep Ace’s legacy alive.”

Nodding deeply, Luffy took off his Lucy disguise and handed it to Sabo, who hugged him once more, leaving a kiss on top his head as though they were still kids.

“Your punches still like pistols?”

“You know it!”

“Then you won’t have any problem kicking Doflamingo’s ass—get going!”

“Alright! Help my brother, okay Chicken Guy?!” Luffy ran off, laughing through his tears as Sabo and Bartolomeo stared at one another, one amused and the other completely flabbergasted.

Doflamingo was going to be in for it.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

In her defense, Nami had done everything according to plan. She stayed back along with Usopp and Robin before they disappeared. After that, she even stayed hidden while Law had a pissing match with Doflamingo and Fujitora. She had completely followed along in her brother’s harebrained scheme, which he had promised was going to go off without a hitch.

So why, pray tell, was she locked up in a dungeon?!

“I can’t believe I’ve been reduced to this,” she muttered as she paced the cell. It was a simple design—stone walls, seastone bars, bed, sink, bucket—and yet there was a very complicated feel to the entire situation. Much of the crew was still in Dressrosa, that much was true, and there was the fact that Law was still alive. Doflamingo was truly a sadist; there was no way he’d let Law do something as simple as die without torturing him first. Bepo was also wandering around, but he just watched her get kidnapped, Law get shot, and a Marine Admiral summon a meteor from the sky—he was certain to need time to compose himself.

An explosion went off outside the palace that made Nami jump. Was she going to be trapped while the others fought on? What if she tried to escape? Waited for the others to get to her? Ugh… she really should have stayed on the Sunny when she had the chance…

Just then, she noticed a string slinking along the floor, coming into her cell. It began to swirl around and form a shape, which eventually solidified into the very image of Doflamingo, who smirked at her.

“Well, this is something,” the string-copy stated. It seemed to regard her carefully, as though she represented part of a puzzle he was interested in solving. “I don’t exactly understand: why is the Straw Hat brat part of this? He doesn’t seem smart enough to go through Law’s plans.”

“That’s the thing about Luffy,” Nami said coolly. “He keeps people on their toes.”

“Allies included?”

“Especially allies.”

“Then maybe this might be to my advantage after all,” the string copy mused. It had only a moment to ponder before the door to the cell block creaked open, at which it unraveled and reformed in the corridor. “Ah, Mank, Fahkon, I take it Protocol Corazón is functioning as planned?”

“Well as it’s going to go, sir,” the bald man said. “Mank and I have everything under control.”

The string copy gave pause. “If that’s the case, then why are you here?”

“We have a bit of unfinished business with the woman,” the blond replied. “I hope that’s alright by you.”

“Fufufu, but of course.” The string copy turned its pointer finger into a key and opened Nami’s cell door. She swallowed hard—this was not looking good.

“Much obliged.” The bald man drew the sword at his hip and looked at Nami, smirking casually. “Good to see you too, Gingersnap.”

Nami gasped as she watched the bald man swing his sword and slice Doflamingo’s copy in half, the entire thing falling limp into a pile of shredded string. She was taken aback as the pair took off their sunglasses and tossed them to the floor, revealing their faces in earnest.

It was honestly enough to make her cry. Mostly in frustration, but she couldn’t help the joy that went along with it.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Bepo was, admittedly, absolutely terrified.

He had only just barely slipped away from Uncle Doffy’s grasp when the exchange went sour. There was no sight of his brother or sister, and the Straw Hats had taken Cesar back into their custody at Law’s bequest and got the hell out of there. Nothing was going true to the plan and now he was running around the palace, attempting to find what was, at this point, Plan Q or R or something like that.

The royal palace was strangely quiet, as much of the fighting was going on outside. He poked his head inside a bunch of different rooms as he wandered the corridors, seeing the opulence and grandeur that his adoptive uncle surrounded himself in. It was such a far cry from the mikan farm that it was honestly jarring, though it also underscored the differences between the man who raised him and the one whom they were fighting. He could not imagine his parents wanting to raise him and his siblings there… to him, the fact there were never any visits was proof enough.

Finally, Bepo came across the Hall of Suits, noting how hollow and dark it was. He nearly passed it right up, but saw someone slumped down in one of the chairs… oh, shit… the chair with a heart for a back.

“Law-nii!” Bepo gasped. He ran to his brother and immediately began panicking at the sight of all his injuries. “Is that a gunshot wound?!”

“Bep, I need you to find the keys to these seastone cuffs,” Law grimaced. “He shot me like he shot Dad on Minion Island—if I don’t get access to my Devil Fruit soon, I’ll bleed out.”

That tidbit sent the Mink into full sobs. “Damn it! I’m so sorry, Law-nii! There’s nothing on the walls here and I don’t know where to look!”

“Just, look in the other rooms!”

“I already did!”

“Well, look again!”

“I’m not leaving my remaining brother’s side!”

“What the fuck do you mean by that?!”

Bepo looked over to see Nami running into the Hall of Suits along with two men he didn’t readily recognize. As they got closer, he caught a whiff of them, his expression turning hopeful.

“Peng-nii?! Sach-nii?!”

“The ones and only,” Penguin said. He reached into his blond coif and pulled out a hairpin, which he began to use to pick at the cuff’s locks.

“Where the fuck did you two come from?” Law groaned. “You look fucking ridiculous.”

“We look like the guys who are currently saving your ass,” Shachi fired back. “As if we were going to let you just  get Fuzzball and Gingersnap in mortal peril without some backup! It’s completely irresponsible!”

“This was supposed to be little more than a suicide mission for me, that I was to complete alone,” Law said. The locks sprang open and the cuffs fell away. “If I succeeded, then great; if not, then only my life is on the line.” As he felt the Ope-Ope’s abilities come flooding back to him, nausea overcame him, leading to him leaning over the chair and vomiting sourly. He wiped his mouth with his coat sleeve and surrounded himself in a Room, attempting to patch himself up the best he could with the potential time allotted.

“Uh-huh, and you completely forgot that he’s our uncle too,” Nami scolded, tempted to use her Climatact to beat his thick skull until he got it. “We’re siblings—we can clean up our family mess together. We even have friends to help where we’d otherwise be stretched thin.”

“…but…!”

“No buts!” Nami leaned down and got in her brother’s face, poking him in the bit of chest not marred by a gunshot wound. “Don’t give me that shit! You might have been the only one of us to have lived with Uncle Doffy, but that doesn’t make you the only one responsible!”

“Yeah—we’re doing this together!” Penguin insisted. “What good are dumbass siblings if you can’t ask them for help?!”

“Or rope them into crazy-ass adventures?!” Shachi added.

“Fufufu… I can think of plenty.”

A chill settled over the siblings as someone new entered the hall. Doflamingo casually strolled in, his Haki oppressive as it beat down on the others.

“Stay away from him!” Penguin hissed. He brandished his staff while Shachi held a sword behind him. Nami and Bepo helped Law to his feet, his injuries thankfully subdued for the time being.

“Fufufu… look at my little nephews and niece,” Doflamingo chuckled. They all tensed at that. “I didn’t think nearly all of you would show up… Rosi certainly was… busy while away.”

“Don’t you dare talk about Dad that way, as if you didn’t try to kill him!” Law snapped. “If I hadn’t gotten there in time…! I…!”

“Yes, you certainly did change the course of events,” Doflamingo admitted. “Fahkon, Mank… the both of you? All this time? I’m impressed you were able to keep it together for this long. Did you plan on all of this before or after you joined my guard?”

“Fuck you,” Shachi spat. Doflamingo shrugged.

“No matter—Law, this is your last chance: you are the strongest of my brother’s brood, and I want you to do the smart thing and succeed him as the Corazón. You can do what he never could.”

“Why would I work for a piece of shit like you?”

“…because, I was hoping you were as sharp as I remember. Not a worry though—I have ways to make you see reason.” He lifted his hand and Law blanched.

“You guys need to get out of here,” he growled.

“We can’t leave you,” Penguin said. “We’ll take care of this jackass together.”

“No… I don’t think you understand,” Law replied, voice rising in panic. “All of you need to leave.”

“Which one, which one…” Doflamingo purred. He locked his sights on Nami and twitched his wrist so that his palm faced up, fingers still crooked. “You will do.”

In an instant, Nami’s shoulders jerked back, making her eyes go wide in panic. She tried to drop the Climatact, and couldn’t.

“Parasaito,” Doflamingo smirked. He watched as Nami’s body moved jaggedly before it settled into smoother motions, which made all his brother’s children panic.

“Try to hold still, Gingersnap,” Shachi said. “I might be able to cut the strings.”

“You can’t,” Law snapped. “There’s nothing to cut!”

“This has seastone in the steel—of course it can cut it!”

“Less bickering, more action!” Nami warned. She was beginning to spar with Penguin, who was just barely able to parry her blows without moving in to hurt her. “I don’t care how you do it as long as you don’t hurt me!”

Without a word, Bepo took the situation into his own claws and laid down atop Nami, putting just enough weight on her so that it was difficult for her to move or be moved. Doflamingo scowled as he attempted to pull on his niece’s strings, not getting anywhere.

“Well, that’s boring,” he hummed. “Maybe if I…”

Just then, glass shattered as someone burst through the window, Conqueror’s Haki at full-blast. Luffy took a swing at Doflamingo, raging at the Shichibukai. The siblings braced for an onslaught of broken glass, yet…

“Miss Nami! Youse guys! Ovah here!” They looked to see a barrier between them and the fighting, with Bartolomeo half in a door with his fingers crossed. “Let Mistah Luffy take care of it fer a while! Youse needs t’get yer strength back!” Not taking the opportunity for granted, they ran out of the Hall of Suits, Bepo carrying both Law and Nami.

“Who the hell are you?!” Law asked, attempting to completely ignore the fact he was hefted over his kid brother’s shoulder.

“Oh, I’m Bartolomeo, of the Barto Club! Mistah Luffy and the Straw Hats are mah heroes! There ain’t nevuh been a crew from the East good an’ bold as them! Not recently!”

“I told you we should have stopped back home for a bit,” Shachi snarked. Law pretended he didn’t hear him.

“I have’tuh admit, I didn’t think youse guys would be related to Miss Nami, bein’ Northern an’ all, but I’ve seen woise.”

“How could this be worse?” Penguin grimaced.

“Youse should see who dis oddah guy’s related to,” Bartolomeo chuckled. They rounded a bend and headed towards another corridor. “I mean, he an’ this dame show up with Mistah Luffy’s bruddah, and he says theys here to stop his brudduh from killings their kids! ‘Whose yer brudduh?’ I ask. Apparently, its the creep we’s just ran from! Uhhh… youse guys…?”

Bartolomeo watched as Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo all began to run faster, bursting into the hall ahead of him. They all froze as they saw the two people he had mentioned, casually standing over some freshly-defeated opponents.

“Mom…?” Shachi croaked.

“Dad…?” Penguin marveled. Bepo simply put down his other siblings, completely flabbergasted.

“Took you punks long enough,” Bell-mère smirked. She and Cora allowed their kids to run to them, giving them all tight hugs. “Been a bit—fuck, you’re all tall.”

“We hadn’t heard from you for so long!” Bepo sobbed. “What happened?! Did Uncle Doffy lock you up?!”

“I kind of told your grandfather off two years ago and since then we’re been Revolutionaries,” Cora explained. His kids all stared at him and he chuckled awkwardly.

“I, for one, want to know how you specifically haven’t died,” Nami snarked. “I don’t think you fixed being clumsy overnight.”

“Grauntie Tsuru really worked with me back in the day, okay?” Cora admitted.

“Now, how about we put off talking about Exploits Past for a bit so we can take care of this dry assfuck we call your uncle, eh kids?” Bell-mère asked, jabbing her thumb in the direction of the Hall of Suits. She looked at Bartolomeo, who was staring in slackjawed awe. “Oi, Barty.”

“Yes, Miss Bell-mère?”

“Time to earn your keep, kid. Go distract Mingo for us.”

“Anything fer you, ma’am!” Bartolomeo scuttled off, with Law and Nami groaning in unison soon as he was out of earshot.

“Where’d you pick this lunatic up?” she asked.

“That doesn’t matter,” Bell-mère said. “What does is that we have a plan to get the bastard right where we want him. He doesn’t know we’re here, which is a distinct advantage.”

Her kids all listened intently—with any luck, after this was done, Doflamingo’s existence was never going to hang over their heads ever again.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

When Law finally found where the fight had moved to, it was outside, under the harsh and blinding sun. As it was, it took a while for Bartolomeo to get Doflamingo away from Luffy long enough for Law to utilize the short window to cut in. Some razor strings had just bounced off a barrier the green-haired man put up when Law jumped into the fray, a large Room already up.

“Gamma Knife!” He was able to get a quick stab in Doflamingo’s side, causing the older man to cough up blood. Law quickly moved himself away from his uncle.

“Fuck…” Doflamingo hissed, clutching at his side. He glared at Law, teeth bared and temper wildly spinning out of control. “I took you in.”

“…to groom me into sacrificing my life for you,” Law replied. “You never cared about me past that. Cora-san is the one who cared.”

“Rosi was always soft, like Father,” the Warlord sneered. “I guess he would have been your grandfather, in a different world. Living with Rosi has turned you soft as him… all that time and energy I put into you… wasted.”

“Luffy… I need you to help Nami and our brothers fend off the lieutenants,” Law firmly requested.

“…but I want to help you kick this guy’s ass…”

“If he’s not done in fifteen minutes, then come back here, alright?”

“Not one second more, you hear?” Luffy insisted. He then followed the sound of a nearby explosion; Law and Doflamingo were now alone.

“Foolish move, boy,” Doflamingo stated flatly. “He’s got energy for days—you’re barely upright.”

“All I need is to get in one more shot,” Law chuckled. He watched as his uncle’s expression turn into a frown. “What…? Don’t like your odds?”

“I don’t like any of this,” he said. “You’re forcing my hand, making me kill my favorite nephew, for what? Guilt? Vengeance? Some twisted sense that you’ve decided to call morality? I should have killed you when I had the chance. Now be a good boy and die.”

At that, Doflamingo began to swipe at Law with strings, all near-misses as the younger man popped around the courtyard thanks to the Room. Each time he tried to get close, it was another attack of deadly string. Finally, Law landed another hit, twisting the Gamma Knife in Doflamingo’s side, only to collapse afterwards  in exhaustion. He watched in horror as his uncle remained standing—it was impossible…

“My strings can stitch me up inside as well as out, you arrogant brat,” Doflamingo snarled. He stepped towards Law, who was visibly trembling. “Now I can stomp you out for good.” He lifted his foot and aimed…

…only to be stopped by his own brother’s foot getting in the way.

“Rosi…”

“Name’s Cora; the son you were about to hit gave me that name,” he replied. “Then again, I don’t really think you’d understand things done out of love, would you?”

“Fufufu… aren’t we a little bold for our britches?” Doflamingo chuckled. The two men jumped apart, moving away from Law. “Nice try surprising me; I have to admit that when I heard rumors of you being alive, I thought it was too good to be true. Then your boys went to sea and it was easy to piece everything together.”

“What gave it away?”

“The Heart Pirates, Alive Only—that windbag Sengoku’s the only one able to manage that as a favor to such an obedient little pet who gave us away to Tsuru all that time. Though I do have to admit, the girl’s a surprise. Have her by that Belle you were always pining over?” He clucked his tongue at that. “You became a father so young… and to potentially abandon your daughter at such a fragile age…”

“Like you think Father abandoned us?”

“To the wretched, common wolves, despite the fact we were born in the heavens. They denied us our birthright, so it’s now my right to watch the world suffer and burn.”

“…which makes it my right to stop you.” Just then, Bepo came silently lumbering into the courtyard, crouching down by Law in order to pick him up. Doflamingo drew the gun from his waistband and pointed it at the Mink, only for Cora to point one at him.

“Let them go; your beef’s with me.”

“Oh… nostalgic,” Doflamingo replied, turning his gun towards Cora. The other man’s hand trembled, aim shaky as he took the sound dampening off his youngest son.

“Go,” he said, not looking away from his brother. When he didn’t hear Bepo move, he cocked the barrel of the pistol. “Go, now; that is an order!” Bepo squeaked and scooped Law up in his arms, running away fast as he could. They were soon gone, though there was another explosion and a shishishi to be heard off in the distance. Without aplomb, Doflamingo fired a shot that his brother took in the chest, sending him to his knees.

That was when Cora grinned.

“We need to stop finding ourselves in situations like this, brother,” Doflamingo chuckled. “I thought I demonstrated the first time: you can’t shoot me. You can’t kill me. You are too much like Father.” He frowned as his brother’s smile did not fade away. “Are you that willing to die? Are you that willing to follow in his footsteps?”

“You are right about one thing, Brother,” Cora laughed weakly. “I am too much like Father—I can’t kill you.”

Doflamingo allowed the corners of his mouth to twitch up. Cora was not done, however, despite his labored breathing.

“You didn’t take into consideration one thing though,” he continued. His brother raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? What’s that?”

“My wife is nothing like Mother.”

Inhaling sharply, Doflamingo spun around on his heel, only to be met by Bell-mère pointing a gun directly between his eyes. She pulled the trigger before he could react, killing him point-blank with a spray of blood and brains. His body crumpled on the ground, lifeless and limp, broken and grotesque.

That was when everything changed.

The Birdcage overhead instantly vanished, the citizens sobbing as they dropped their weapons. What was left of the Donquixote Family began to panic and flee, heading directly into traps set by the Marines still there. Dressrosa erupted into joy once again, as they knew that they were finally free to live again as they once had.

“Mom! Dad!” The five siblings, having won their own fights, ran over to their parents, where Bell-mère was helping Cora stand. Law immediately ran a Scan on both of them, finding that there was nothing immediately life-threatening. He then collapsed in Cora’s arms, his energy completely spent.

“We did it,” he breathed. Tears began to stream down his face. “Fuck… we did it…”

“We did,” Bell-mère smiled. She and Cora shared a quick kiss, which made their kids all groan. “Oi; you’re all adults, for fuck’s sake.”

Parents were gross.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Tsuru had a giant headache and it was suspiciously Sengoku-shaped. Because, really, what the fuck was he anymore? Friend? Colleague? Comrade? The guy who keeps showing up? The not-Garp? Nika help her if she knew…

“What does the Inspector General do anyhow?” she asked as they readied to make port. “All you seem to do is wander around and cause trouble for the rest of us.” He munched casually on a cracker, thoughtful.

“I inspect things… generally…”

“You weren’t even assigned to inspect the corpse I have to transport, were you?”

“Nope!”

Then again, how was Tsuru to know what Sengoku’s plan was? He slipped away while her unit was all enamored with the Tontatta princess, making his way through the ruins of Dressrosa until, finally, he found the small house in a field of flowers, where they were…

…where his family was.

Suppressing his Haki, he sat out of sight as he felt the raucous environment just out of his reach. There was presumably the owner of the house, as well as some of the Straw Hats, and… his son, daughter-in-law, and five of his grandchildren. He knew that if he had any chance of meeting them, now would be it… and yet… he knew it was not his place to intrude.

“Are you going to come in or are you just going to lurk there like some sort of weirdo?”

Sengoku looked and saw the Straw Hat’s swordsman leaning against the door frame. He regraded him critically, as though he was unsure of the old man’s true intentions.

“Do I have any right? After it all?”

“That’s not for me to decide,” the swordsman said. He watched as Sengoku stood and, after the man hesitated, turned his attention back inside. “Oi, Kyros, got another chair?”

The whole house went quiet as Sengoku lingered by the doorway. He saw Cora towards the end of the table, mid-reach for his fork, with Bell-mère sitting next to him. Aside from the Straw Hats (the Straw Hat himself, of course, being the only one to keep eating as though nothing was happening), the young people he had only seen in bounty posters were sat all around the couple, looking as though they had paused some sort of petty squabble for him to enter.

“Cora…” he choked, voice suddenly gone. “You… you did it…”

There was no response, with instead tears welling in Sengoku’s eyes.

“You were a better man than I ever could have hoped to be… Cora…”

“Gramps, who are you?”

Everyone looked at Luffy, slackjawed as he simply ate away. Nami and Shachi both hit him on the head, causing lumps to comically form.

“That’s the Marine Fleet Admiral, you idiot!” Nami snapped.

“Former Marine Fleet Admiral,” Sengoku gently corrected. “I’ve been out of that game for a while now.”

“Then why are you here?” Cora asked. The tension was palpable as they waited for Sengoku to make a move…

…though they did not expect him to go to his knees.

“I am here to apologize,” he said, showing every bit his age. “Your lives were all much worse due to my actions, whether I thought I was acting for the good of the world or not, and…” He leaned forward and pressed his hands and forehead to the floor, prostrating completely. “…there is nothing I can do, nothing I can sacrifice, to undo what I did… to fully atone for what I did…”

“Ooohhh… this is really weird…” Usopp shuddered. He looked at his crewmates and friends to see that they were all zeroed in on Sengoku. Well, shit.

“…and I want to thank you especially, Nico Robin, for not only living, but accepting my family despite my connection towards them. You are all so much better than this old, worn-out husk.”

They all stayed like that for a while, no one moving as Sengoku knelt on the floor, putting himself at their mercy. Eventually, Robin got up from her seat and went to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I accepted Nami because she accepted me,” she explained. “She knew nothing of me and yet I was her friend. She knew everything of me and remained my friend. She knew very little of the extent of her grandfather’s actions and never let what she learned take away from what she built on her own. It’s easy to love someone like that, and just as difficult to hate.”

“R-Robin…” Nami wavered. The other woman pressed a finger to her lips with a smile.

“The sins of the father are not automatically the sins of the child, and despite this,” Robin told Sengoku, “your son has already bowed to me.”

Sengoku shuddered as he sucked in a breath, shame beating down upon him more than he ever thought imaginable. His tears fell directly onto the floor and the insides of his eyeglasses, only for a different pair of hands to touch his shoulder.

There was his boy, knelt next to him once again.

“Oi! Youse guys gotta get goin’!” Bartolomeo shouted as he burst in through the door. “Vice Admiral Tsuru’s been spotted talking to Issho! It could get bad!” He then noticed Sengoku, going completely pale. “Oh.. I… uh…”

“Shishishi—don’t worry, Chicken Guy,” Luffy smirked. “It’s just a family visit. Isn’t it nice that Nami is related to so many neat people? We’ve got so many extra-bonus-ally-friends that we even have them in the Marines!”

“…and to think that Sengoku isn’t the first one, either,” Kyros mused from his position in the corner. “You Straw Hats and Hearts certainly are an interesting group.”

Yeah… they’d take “interesting” any day.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

To stare down the world at sixteen and seventeen, it means you’re staring into a great abyss, unsure of what lies in store for you and yours. There is a certain form of both near-and-far-sightedness that plagues you, tricking the mind into finding substance amongst the wisps and whispers, far from what is actually lurking just out of reach. It’s an uneasy and frustrated feeling, yet one that needs weathering all the same.

To steel yourselves at sixteen and seventeen, it means making promises not meant to be kept and holding them to heart anyhow. It’s quiet letters and silent conversations; lying to others while staying open and honest in private, despite how much it hurts; counting down the days until you can see one another again, with each hour feeling like an eternity.

To be fully-vested soldiers at sixteen and seventeen, it means feeling a small part of you die every time you follow an order, knowing full-well that it could be worse. You could still be a cadet; you could still be a recruit; you could be demoted to chores; so little is justifiable, and yet, you keep going. Yes, sir. Right away, ma’am. You enable the machine that is slowly killing you, as it killed all your classmates’ souls… all your classmates but one…

To love someone else is dangerous, and you don’t know for whom until it’s too late.

[jodilin65]

I’m going to work on this entry little by little because I’m just not feeling well. I still don’t know if I have COVID, a cold, or if my allergies and asthma have simply gone haywire. I still feel like I have something, and I do hope that’s the case because then there’s hope for things getting better.

That doesn’t eliminate the fact that I have a constantly dry, stuffy nose that makes it hard to sleep because I can’t simply blow it out. I do have saline packets arriving today that I can put in the bottle the pulmonologist gave me. I just hate the feeling of how it stings my nose. It’s like when you get water up your nose when you go swimming.

I’ve been having a lot of shortness of breath, and yesterday was horrible. First, I was depressed and feeling totally hopeless all night long. Then when he got up, my mood improved, but physically, I really went downhill. It got scary because every time I fell asleep, I would suffocate awake. I just couldn’t get enough air in, and to make matters worse, I sleep with my mouth closed, as I’ve mentioned before. I started to fear that I would keep waking up until I was too exhausted to wake up and would suffocate to death.

So as exhausted as I was, we headed for urgent care, but they were closed due to the storm. We were surprised by just how much storm damage there was right here in town. There’s a restaurant owner by the little beach who has owned the place for decades, and his place was flooded. He said he’d never seen anything like it. One of the street signs we drove under, the kind that hangs over the street in a frame, was busted out partway so you could only read half of the street name. Tom saw pics of flooding and floating cars, and this wasn’t too far from us. But because we’re roughly 30 feet in elevation, we were spared. I just wonder how much worse it’s going to get until it eventually takes this place out.

Anyway, I joined a site called 7 Cups because it said they provided free counselors at any time. Well, counselors you have to pay for if your insurance doesn’t cover it, but they have what’s called “listeners.” I wasn’t too impressed. Someone asked what was going on, I told them, and then I had to wait 25 minutes for them to reply with “I understand.”

Although I don’t see what good it would do me, if I ever really feel the need for a therapist, I’ll just get one through my insurance that hopefully isn’t a delusional religious freak like Helen was. Helen was very nice, but I prefer not to work with someone with that kind of narrow-minded mindset and that puts so much value in unproven stories.

So I finally got to bed after being up for 20 hours and managed to sleep for 5 hours, but of course, we had another power failure. Tom said we should have expected it because usually, after a storm, they do a temporary fix before they make the more permanent one, and they have to cut you off to make the switch.

Since being up, I have been short of breath, and I still have that dry stuffiness. I wish I knew what it was! Even if I don’t have a cold or COVID, we know that this isn’t an allergy-friendly climate. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking by coming here, but we’re talking about heading back out West next year.

We don’t have a ton of money, so it’s not like we could just up and go. I just don’t know how the hell I’m going to get the energy to do it. Got to do what I got to do, though. I don’t know for sure where we would go, but I do know it won’t be California or Arizona. Probably not Utah either, but likely Nevada, and even more likely, New Mexico. I don’t know if we’ll get land or go to another park.

In a park, you have more security, but with land, you have more freedom. We’re also not going to have nearly as much money to work with since we’re selling a tiny house in a cheap state. Where we got $110K from the Cali place, this place is lucky to give us more than $40K.

There would also be no flying first class out there. Instead of shipping our stuff, we would probably throw it in a truck and drive it out. We’d probably pull the car behind it since I doubt we could afford to ship it. The real problem is where the hell to put our stuff until we get into a place. We can’t afford to have it shipped and stored until we’re ready for it. Besides, our experience with that was not good at all because they broke a lot of our stuff, and it took months to get it after we requested it. So we’d likely be going back out West the same way we went from Oregon to California. Nothing is definite or etched in stone yet, but we’re seriously considering it for several reasons.

I’ve got a list of pros and cons written out. Even though the place might be older and maybe even a bit of a dump, it sure would be nice to have a bigger place! I’m just concerned with how to get the energy (and the money) to pull it off. It almost hurts seeing Doc A run off every few weeks somewhere and all the marathons she’s doing while I’m grounded day after day, feeling like shit. And she’s barely a decade younger! It’s just so unfair. I’m happy for her but sad for me. I know I’m going to suffer most days, physically or emotionally, for the rest of my life, and that’s a tough pill to swallow. If it wasn’t for him, I would have been dead years ago.

Pros of FL: - Warmer longer - Cheaper - Mostly older people

Cons of FL: - Allergies (even Tom’s nose has been stuffier than usual) - Fucked up healthcare - Crazy traffic - Planes - Motorcycles - Too many storms waking me up or threat of storms, plus hurricane dangers - Power failures galore - No Death with Dignity option - State is way too red - Unfriendly people (with few exceptions)

Tom got all excited earlier because he’s now 259 lbs and is under 260 for the first time in a long time. I noticed my weight was up a couple of pounds, and I was trying to figure out why since I hadn’t eaten much, and then I remembered the peanuts I got with our last order. Nothing puts weight on me faster than those.

My blood pressure was pretty low yesterday as well, and we’re pretty sure I got dehydrated and hadn’t eaten enough carbs. He thinks that could have accounted for some of the breathing issues. I still don’t know what to think, but I would like to get tested for COVID. The only problem with that is if it comes back positive, he’s mandated to tell the plasma place, which means he wouldn’t be able to donate.

At over 1,200 words, I guess this is a long enough entry, but I’m not ready to edit it. I’ll do it a little later and then post it.

[popentertainmentconcertreviews]

Nikka Costa & Olivia Rubini – Ardmore Music Hall – Ardmore, PA – November 11, 2024

The white soul sister is back, after nearly two decades out of the public eye. Nikka Costa released some totally funktastic grooves in the 1990s and early 2000s. Her newest album has just been released after several years, the aptly named Dirty Disco, and now Costa is out on a club tour to share her new music and old favorites. And it’s good to see that the crowd has been waiting for her.

The opening act was Olivia Rubini, recent alumni from the TV competition The Voice and the daughter of local rocker and music producer Ritchie Rubini (he was a founding member of The Caulfields, and also played with Bon Jovi for a while.) Olivia appeared to be a good rootsy blues rocker with just a bit of pop to keep things interesting.

I say appeared to be because the sound mix of the opening set was just awful. The lead guitar was so loud and high in the mix that it overwhelmed the rest of the band – steamrollering the rhythm guitarist, the bassist, the drummer, and even the vocalist.

Rubini often had to go all out just to be heard over the axe, and many of her subtler moments were just swallowed up by the wall of sound coming from one instrument. Therefore, whether she was doing a tender ballad (“Heartless Woman”) or a cover of a favorite Harry Styles song, sadly you couldn’t totally tell if she was doing them justice or not.

Of course, the sound quality is not her fault – or at least probably not, if she were a more experienced performer, she may have picked up on it and had something done about it – so I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt that she is a better artist than this set showed off.

Ironically, like Rubini, Nikka Costa’s father was also a music producer, but from a different generation, often working with Frank Sinatra, who had been Nikka’s godfather. However, Don Costa died while Nikka was still a child and her music – which was pretty white bread when she recorded a few albums with dad as a little girl, starting at nine years old – became far funkier when left to the artist’s own devices.

In fact, a taped voiceover introducing the band announced “the return of the funky white bitch” to bring Costa onto the stage. Funny thing is, the last time I saw her perform at World Café Live in 2008, she was selling “The Return of the Funky White Bitch” t-shirts as concessions, so she’s been identifying this way for quite some time.

This tour is promoting Costa’s new album Dirty Disco, which is only the second record she has released since that 2008 tour. That’s kind of a shame, because while she never became a hit artist, she had a strong cult following for her first four adult albums. Things like parenthood and pandemics got in the way and kept her out of the studio and off of the road, she explained from the stage.

But now the bitch is back, and it’s good to have her. The show was made up of 13 originals and one slightly eclectic cover of “Dance Wit’ Me” by Rufus featuring Chaka Khan – a great tune, but hardly the most recognizable pick from those funk titans’ fiery songbook.

However, the setlist was pretty spot on, with her old favorites and new tunes coiling like a snake and shaking like a tailfeather. And Costa, despite all these years off the road – or perhaps because of it – had all the energy she has ever shown.

She started off with a trio of hot shots from the new album, “Dirty Disco,” “It’s Just Love” and “Keep It High.” By the time she reached back in her songbook for “Like a Feather” and “Pebble to a Pearl,” the funk was undeniable.

Occasionally some of the songs felt a little padded. “Everybody Got Their Something” had a bit too much back-and-forth vocalizing with the audience which sort of killed the funky exuberance of the tune. “Dance Wit’ Me” featured three instrumental solos: on guitar, bass and drum. Only the keyboardist didn’t get the time to shine, which somehow doesn’t seem fair. Still, that’s about one or two too many solos for any single song. However, mostly the show was fiery and tight.

Nikka Costa reminded us, for one night at least, why the world has been missing her and needing her little shots of soul. Here’s hoping it’s not another several years before she passes this way again.

Jay S. Jacobs

Copyright ©2024 PopEntertainment.com. All rights reserved. Posted: November 13, 2024.

Photos by Jim Rinaldi © 2024. All rights reserved.

[cascadedkiwi]

Notes [Comfortember 2023]

Characters: Denki Kaminari x Female OC (Kliome) Manga/Anime: Boku No Hero Academia/My Hero Academia Genre: Comfort (but more fluff, I think) Summary: Kliome leaves little notes for Denki throughout his day. Word Count: 1,243

Prompt 6: Notes

Kliome giggled as she lightly hung off of Denki’s neck in the doorway. “I love you,” she said in a cutesy voice.

Denki grinned down at her, holding his hands up. “I love you, too, cutie, but we gotta go.”

Kliome kissed his nose.

He gave her a helpless smile. “Kliome, come on. I’m actually set to be early to work for once.”

She gave a little pout, setting herself back on her feet. “Are we still on for lunch today?”

“I honestly can’t promise but I’ll do my best. Pray no one decides to make my day interesting?”

“Fingers crossed.” Kliome gave him one last kiss on his cheek before sprinting out to her truck. “Bye! Love you!” She called out the window as she pulled off.

Denki blinked, a confused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He shook his head as he made his way to his car, pausing as he settled into the driver’s seat. A folded paper was tented on the steering wheel. He opened it.

‘Good morning Chargebolt, I hope you have a wonderful day! You deserve it.  Love, your biggest fan.’

He smiled again. The i’s were dotted with little zig-zags for lightning bolts. Kliome could be so precious. 

He arrived at the agency with a spring in his step and a smile on his face. “Share some of that happy with the rest of us,” called a sidekick playfully.

When he went to change into his hero costume, something fell out of his jacket. Another paper, this time yellow.

‘Thank you for all your hard work. We’re all safer with you on the street.’

No i’s for her to dot this time, but she signed the note with a lightning bolt regardless. He couldn’t help but smile again. Even though he was a pro now, the doubts still lingers at the back of his mind, old insecurities following him from his days at U.A. None knew that better than Kliome.

“Fan Mail?”

Denki startled at the voice in his ear, nearly dropping the note. He whipped around to see Hakurei snickering into the high collar of his jacket. “Moody!”

“You were watching that note pretty intensely.” Hakurei raised an eyebrow and Denki had to remind himself that this guy was only half a decade older than he was.

Denki shoved it into his bag in his locker. “It’s from Kliome.”

Hakurei’s smile grew. “Nothing like sweet words from your soulmate to send you into battle, huh?” He merely huffed a knowing laugh at the red that climbed Denki’s face.

Patrol had been uneventful until two guys decided that Denki needed to get his blood pumping. What started as an antique store heist turned into a foot chase that attracted a gang of known troublemakers just looking for a reason to show off their quirks. It only escalated from there, introducing multiple stolen cars and a giant of a girl with a projectile-type quirk way too similar to Bakugo’s. He definitely wasn’t making it to lunch.

It took them four hours to get the situation under control. Denki looked up as a firm hand gripped his shoulder. He gave Hakurei a wry smile. 

“Need a mood boost?” Hakurei offered, looking a bit worse for wear himself.

Denki shook his head, pushing his hair from his face. “Nah, thanks man. Looks like you need to use your quirk on yourself.”

“If only I could.” Hakurei stumbled, giving Denki a grateful look for not letting him hit the broken pavement.

A pair of paramedics came to check them over, taking Hakurei away in an ambulance. 

Denki plopped down on the sidewalk, catching his breath while waiting to be collected to go back to the agency. The paperwork was gonna be a doozy for this one. He pulled his phone from his breast pocket under his t-shirt. His message app was loaded with notifications, but Kliome’s chat - pinned to the top - was lit up with a tiny "1" in the colored circle. 

‘I heard some jerks decided to make your day interesting, ^^’. Don’t worry about lunch. We’ll make up for it later. I know you fought hard and well. I’m proud of you. And proud to be yours. :P PLEASE go to the hospital, Chargebolt. Even if you think you’re fine. I’ll be mad if you don’t >:(   I wuv you <3'

His lips pulled up to one side and he reread the message again before typing out a response, hitting send just as a set of footsteps approached him. It was time to get back to base. 

Denki was in the camp of agency employees that started paperwork at the earliest opportunity. Mainly so he could get as much as he could down while it was still fresh in his thankfully unscrambled brain. 

A quick shower and change of clothes later, Denki was making his way to his desk. Upon approach, he noticed a container set next to the thick folder waiting for his write up. Taped to the top was a blue paper folded in the shape of a star. He sat down before unfolding it.

‘Yes, I made this. Yes, it’s a salad. You know my salads are never lacking. Hope it can comfortably tide you over until you get off. You deserve every piece of chicken and shrimp in this bowl.

P.S. Eat every legume. Every single one.’

He carefully popped off the lid, taking in the colorful and weighty meal. She had stripped the lettuce, fried the chicken and the shrimp, and he counted three different kinds of beans, chickpeas, and pigeon peas, all tossed in a dressing he couldn't identify. It honestly looked like filling for her homemade naan or a tortilla.

Thankfully, he didn't have to leave the agency building for the rest of his shift so he was actually able to finish all the preliminary paperwork. The drive home was a careful one. He had a medical all-clear but was still sore all over. A fortunate coincidence that he was scheduled off tomorrow. Not so fortunate was that Kliome wouldn't be able to spend the day with him, but he reminded himself yet again that he would, in fact, not perish from Kliome-deficiency over the course of a 24-hour period. 

A pink note greeted him at eye-level on the front door. 

'Good work today, Chargebolt. Rest well.'

He took it inside. His face squinched in confusion at the mess that greeted him. Well, not exactly a mess. But there were folded papers on every surface. Every seat in the living room. The coffee table, the TV stand, the dining table… every chair had a paper folded over the back and one in the center of the seat. The kitchen island, the counters, the microwave, the fridge, even the pile of clean dishes in the drainer and the sink faucet. 

How long had she been planning this?

The bathroom was in a similar state. Folded papers of varying colours on the closed toilet seat, the toilet tank, their - dry - towels, taped to the back of the door... 

On to the bedroom, then. Spotless. Had she run out? He walked in to see their dresser. The mirror was completely outlined in post-its.

He sat on the bed. His phone went off in his pocket.

Good night, my electric love. I landed safely. Bet you won't find them all before I get back. :P

He smiled. He couldn't love this woman enough.

A/N: She also put a note in at least one pocket of all his clothes in their shared closet. He'll be finding them for months.

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

One Night with the Billionaire Boss by Serenity Woods

A Boss in A Billion #2

 This author is a favorite who provides wonderful characters in heartfelt steamy stories that draw me in, make me feel and care and hope the couple will find their happily ever after.

 Elizabeth and Huxley met in college, felt a connection after a couple of dates, and then a wrench in their potential relationship occurred that kept them apart even though they stayed friends for a decade. Huxley has known what he wants, and he wants Elizabeth, but he won’t push to get it…though he might nudge insistently. Elizabeth has experienced some bad relationships that ended up leaving her guarded and unwilling to trust again.  The sperm donor request is the catalyst that might break through her barriers and give Huxley the opportunity to finally get together with the woman he has wanted for ten long years.

 In this book the two do become lovers but both go into the encounter with different expectations. communication isn’t as open as it should be, and a huge secret that could possibly have made things easier years ago does not get shared till near the end of the story. As I think about this story I wonder if perhaps the decade apart could have been avoided and yet if Huxley and Elizabeth had gotten together when young, they might not have achieved the success and maturity that allows them to finally achieve their happily ever after.

 In the end, the two do manage to get it right and I believe they will have a happy successful relationship. I look forward to finding out how they are doing in the wrap-up of the series a few books from now.

 Thank you to the author for the ARC – This is my honest review.

 5 Stars

      BLURB

 It’s not every day you ask your best friend to get you pregnant. Oliver Huxley has asked me out on a date every month for the last ten years. And every time, I’ve said no. Yes, he’s a billionaire. Okay, he’s heart-meltingly gorgeous. And it’s true that he has a great reputation in the bedroom. Look, I have my reasons. He’s already broken my heart once. And I know he wants me only because he can’t have me. If I sleep with him, I’ll just end up another notch on his bedpost, and my heart won’t survive a second break. Whoever said it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all clearly didn’t know what he was talking about. However, I’m nearly thirty and, more than anything in the world, I want a baby. But there’s a three-year wait for a donor for single women at the clinic, and they suggest asking a friend. I might not want a relationship with Huxley, but there’s no doubt he’s a great dad to his eight-year-old daughter. So I ask him if he’ll help me out. He replies that he’s not doing anything in a cup. But he is prepared to try and get me pregnant the old-fashioned way. He says if I give him one night, we have a thirty percent chance of success, more than double what I could expect at the clinic. One night with my best friend. If we sate our hunger for each other, maybe we’ll be able to move on with our lives and put this ridiculous obsession behind us. I know he’s going to be great in bed. But he’s not going to be that good. Famous. Last. Words.

[thenewfuture]

(Part 2)

Th-The…Izuru…K-Kamukura Project…?!

………….

…These appear to be a record of all of the participants and subsequent victims of the project. There’s hundreds, perhaps thousands of names here, going on for nearly six decades. Most of the subjects here died during the operations, and most that survived didn’t live long enough past the first few weeks to get a decent result.

All of which is approved and signed in your name, Chairman Kazou Tengan.

…………

W-Wait, hold on! Th-There’s no way Chairman Tengan would do something like that knowingly…! M-Maybe he didn’t know what it was for-

Kid. I get ya want to get in the chairman’s good graces. But the facts speak for themselves.

Tengan was the headmaster of Hope’s Peak for years before Jin stepped in. He knew. He knew guaranteed.

……………

…………………

….What would you have me say?

Huh?

What could I possibly say at this time that would have you believe my side in all this?

Try and I’ll judge you myself.

*sigh*......

Izuru Kamukura wanted nothing but the best for our country. He wanted to improve the world and help others in so many ways, alas it was too tall a task for one man alone.

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

Tengan: That’s when he had the idea to create Hope’s Peak Academy. To help foster the next generation and bolster their individual skill sets to change the world.

Tengan: But as the years went on…nothing changed. Crime was rampant, diseases still spread, and the citizens still felt a great despair. And so Izuru Kamukura died without his dream ever being fulfilled.

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

Until, one day…many years later when an idea struck. What if instead of relying on multiple people with incredible talents to shape the world, there was one person with every and all talents in existence to shape it instead.

And that was the basis for the Kamukura Project.

Indeed. Ever since then, Hope’s Peak has tried to craft the perfect embodiment of hope. An Ultimate Ultimate if you will. The Ultimate Hope.

By injecting all we knew about talents and the talented students, their body structure, genetic makeup, and brain impulses, onto one singular person. We could make that individual be like those talented students. Perhaps even stronger.

At the cost of said individual losing themselves in the process.

………

Y’know, I keep wondering…. Just what was the plan for Izuru Kamukura anyway? How did the school plan to use them once they were created.

I believe it went something like this… Hope’s Peak would assign Izuru to use his incredible talents wherever and whenever they saw fit. Assist in calculations, help stop disasters, become mankind’s hope for the betterment of the world.

That doesn’t sound like for the betterment of the world, that sound like for the betterment of Hope’s Peak solely.

……….

I…..I don’t understand…. How could you…..be okay with this….?

As I said, I believed it was for the greater good. The potential of all the talent possessed-

Tengan's skeletons in his closet

(Part 1)

*Flips through pages*

Is it really wise to stay here and waste precious time? I can’t see the benefit in reading that file?

Why do you have that file anyway?

What do you mean? It’s a record of every branch leader of the Foundation. Why wouldn’t I have something like that?

I meant have it here. Wouldn’t that be too good information for anyone to have? Especially, if it’s as personal as I’m suspecting it is…

It’s not that, it’s-

A last will in testament.

Hmm?

Or that’s how I’m personally perceiving it with your phrasing here in some of these notes sections. If someone were to find this and read these sections about what you had to say about them, it would fill them with a sense of remorse.

A forced remorse though… From only reading your personal thoughts in this file, instead of from your own mouth.

Almost as if you’re expecting to die soon.

…….

…I have no idea what you could be referring too…

Fine then. Take this section about me for instance. You write,

“Kyoko Kirigiri is a smart, confident, and capable detective. Being the one to solve most of the mysteries surrounding the Hope’s Peak Killing Game even under a stronger memory loss influence than the other students proves she is a prodigy worthy of her family name. It almost gives me no doubt in my mind that she can solve all of the mysteries remaining about Hope’s Peak Academy. But whether I should be worried about that is still uncertain”

…….

……

….Well? I’m right here. What do you want me to potentially uncover?

…….

I’m….not sure what you could be referring to…

You wrote it, my man. Is your memory failing that much already?

…………….

……..

Very well. I’ve already figured it out anyway. 

You have?

Yes. It has something to do… *Click*

*whiiiirrrrr* *Kyoko hits a button under Tengan’s desk. And one of the paintings on the wall splits open to reveal a compartment hidden in the wall with another type of file inside*

…with this.

W-Woah! That’s some serious spy-type stuff right there…!

And what is that exactly?

*Kyoko takes the file from the compartment* This…appears to be about the Izuru Kamukura Project.

[97-liners]

more werewolf!scoups x vampire!reader

pointless fluff, some backstory, 1.1k words

same universe as my previous little drabble

@greenlivvie

Chan is afraid of you. Terrified, even, and you’re very aware of it.

You smile awkwardly at him, but you’re not sure it really carries past the large wide-brimmed hat and veil protecting your face from the sun. You try your best to remember what you would have done back when you were a human, but your memory fails you.

“So,” you say, clasping your gloved hands. You’re out in daylight today, accompanying Seungcheol as he runs some errands. He had to stop by a relative’s house to drop something off, and you had elected to wait outside to avoid the awkwardness of needing to be invited in.

Chan was on his way back from the train station when he ran into you, and out of obligation and politeness more than anything, he stopped to greet you. You know it wasn’t his first choice, because you can sense the adrenaline in his blood and the minuscule shift of his muscles, like he’s steeling himself in case he has to fight. Dressed in his school uniform and walking his bike, he somehow seems even younger than you remember him looking a few weeks ago when he came of age and joined the other wolves in the run for the first time.

You know you’re quite intimidating dressed in all black and standing in the shadow of a building, but this is the first time you’ve been face-to-face with the boy without Seungcheol acting as some sort of buffer, and you desperately want him to stop making those terrified deer-in-the-headlights eyes at you. “How is school?”

“G-good,” Chan stammers.

“Are you studying hard for your college entrance exams?”

“Yeah,” he looks down at his feet.

You’re trying your best to seem warm and friendly, you really are, but centuries of isolation really does take a toll on your social skills. 

“You know, you can always come to me for help,” you tell him. “I have four degrees.” A product of having nothing better to do over the past two hundred years.

“Thank you,” Chan says. “You’re very generous.”

The two of you fall in silence again. What are the kids into these days? You’re itching to tell him not to be afraid of you, that you haven’t killed anyone in nearly five decades, that you’re freshly sated and have no hunger for his blood, but a part of your brain tells you that doing so might make him even more afraid of you, so you just smile at him again.

Thankfully, Seungcheol rescues you. “Hey Chan, heading home from school?” He comes up beside you and takes your hand, effortlessly entwining his fingers between your own gloved fingers. 

“Oh, hyung,” Chan breathes a sigh of relief. “Hi. I’m heading to cram school right now.”

“Well, you don’t want to be late, do you,” Seungcheol raises an eyebrow at Chan, who instantly gets the message. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get going,” he swings his leg back over his bike, the numerous little keychains hanging off his backpack jostling and clinking in the process. “I’ll see you, then.”

“Oh, and Chan?”

“Hm?” He looks up.

“Don’t be so nervous around my partner.”

.

.

.

“It’s so embarrassing,” you moan, hanging up your hat as soon as you reach the blessed darkness inside your house. “Your packmates are terrified of me. I’m like, half of Mingyu’s size,” you gripe, stripping your gloves off, “and the other day he still asked me if I’ve ever ripped anyone’s head off.”

“Well, have you?” Seungcheol sets the shopping bags down in the kitchen.

You wave your hand flippantly as you shrug off your long black coat. “Yeah, but that was over a century ago.”

“Don’t worry about it, they’ll come around eventually,” he promises, settling an arm around your waist and kissing your cheek. “Mingyu is afraid of everything. And to be fair, you’re a very powerful being.”

You frown at him. “I’m a socially awkward hermit.”

“You could kill me at any moment if you wanted,” he adds on conversationally, as if he isn’t talking about murder. 

“You’d put up a good fight,” you counter. “We’re pretty evenly matched.”

“Don’t flatter me,” he laughs.

“You’re the only one with no self preservation instinct.” You sigh as you collapse into a chair, exhausted from an afternoon of being out in public. 

Seungcheol shrugs. “Well that’s because we’ve met before. I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Hmm?” You look up at him as he puts away groceries. “What are you talking about?”

He pauses, one hand held hesitantly over a bag of carrots. “I met you before. When I was a child.”

You stare at him. 

Seungcheol furrows his brows. “You don’t remember?”

“No,” you respond. “But then again, I’m old. My memory isn’t the best.”

“Hmm,” he turns back towards the task at hand. “It’s fine if you don’t remember, then.”

“You’ll have to remind me about it some time.” You lean your head against the back of your chair. 

.

.

.

(It’s raining outside, and you’re trying your best to focus on the book in your lap, but the persistent whimpering outside your house is distracting you. It’s probably just some wild animal, but something about the sound is unsettling. It’s not right. 

Your eyes scan over the same paragraph for the third time before you sigh and snap the book shut. If you don’t address the whining, you’re not going to get anything done all night.

Tugging on your rain boots and wrapping a coat loosely around yourself, you step out onto the porch to investigate the noise. It’s a full moon tonight, but any moonlight is obscured by the dark storm clouds overhead. You step out onto the creaky old wood and look around, eyes adjusting to the darkness, and then you spot it, the source of the whimpering.

It’s a puppy. No, you frown. It’s not an ordinary puppy. That’s a lost werewolf pup, a young one at that. He’s soaking wet and covered in mud, shivering in the paltry shelter of a flowerpot holding a wilted rose bush. “Oh dear,” you murmur, stepping forward. Without hesitation, you shrug off your coat and wrap the pup up, holding him close to your chest. You know it’s no use, that your body doesn’t carry any heat, but the action must have soothed him somewhat, because the whimpering quiets down into the occasional keen. 

“You’re too young to be out here alone,” you murmur. “There are monsters in the woods less kind than I am, little wolf.” There’s a pack a couple miles away. You’ve never interacted with them, but you’re sure they’ll get this pup back to his parents, wherever they are. “Brave little wolf,” you croon, cradling the bundle against your chest as you set off in the rain, making your way through the dark forest, head lifted high. There are no threats to you here. “Let’s get you back home.”)