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queerfootfella · 10 months

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Ethan lagged behind Braeden as the 23-year-old led his buddy down a bike trail in the local park. Sweaty from walking in the muggy weather, Ethan wiped his forehead. The reason for the trip was to muck up Braeden’s feet, so he was glad the weather was good for something. A generous request for a video of Braeden’s dirty feet was submitted to his OnlyFans. Ethan was his only friend who knew about this stream of income and was happy to oblige when he asked for help.

“Why don’t you start shooting here, dude?” suggested Braeden. “I haven’t seen anybody pass for a while. Get low to the ground and focus on my feet,”

“Got it. You gonna tell me when to stop, or should I film all the way to the bench?”

“All the way to the bench, then we can stop. I need to put my little microphone on for the verbal part,”

“Sounds good. I’ll count you down when you’re ready,”

“Thanks again for doing this, dude. I don’t know how I would have filmed this on my own. Ready to go when you are,”

“No problem! Okay – five, four, three, two,” said Ethan as he sank into a squat. He whispered one and Braeden slowed his gait so his cameraman could keep up. He tapped the feet on the center of Braeden’s iPhone 14 to focus the camera and hit record.

Finally, Ethan thought, Braeden was telling him to look at his feet. He’d made a nasty habit lately out of coveting them secretly. It wasn’t just the feet themselves that drove him crazy, though they were certainly beautiful – size 13, long toes, smooth soles, and well-defined arches. No, what mesmerized Ethan was the way Braeden endlessly moved his feet. If his feet were out in front of him, he would curl and spread his toes. When he was sitting with his feet beneath him, he would use his hands to stretch his toes and crack his knuckles; he liked to use his big toe to pop his second when his hands weren’t within reach. The motion of and attention to his own feet was near constant, and Ethan had a tough time not fixating on it.

Now that he was behind a camera, his job was to document those very toe fidgets and sole scrunches. Just watching him walk was so hot, how to film them came naturally. Every few steps, Braeden would slow to just before a stop. Sometimes, he’d leave one foot in mid-step to show the camera his progressively grimier soles. Each time he stopped, Ethan inched toward them until the bare foot was front and center. He held on to every detail until Braeden walked again. With each fresh start, Ethan found a new angle to feature. Once, he focused on his legs and ass walking. Another time, he moved slightly in front of him to show the tops of his feet. It felt like a dance: Ethan’s partner was the air between Braeden’s soles and the ground and the beat was feet slapping against concrete.

As Braeden turned toward the destination bench and off the pavement, he measured his steps even more precisely. Ethan made a point of getting a close shot of his soles walking across actual earth. Rocks were sticking to his sweaty soles. They looked even more pillowy with pebbles sinking into them. Ethan circled around to film in front of Braeden as he approached the bench. He sat and crossed one foot over the other, which Ethan zoomed in close on. He pulled the camera outward until just before his head was in frame and hit the record button once more.

“And, cut!” said Ethan, “You wanna see it?”

“Yeah, actually. If it didn’t turn out, we can try again on the walk back,” Braeden took his phone back from Ethan.

“I hope it did, my legs are fucking tired from that squat shit,”

Braeden laughed and sat down on the bench, flexing his foot. “I appreciate it so much, man. Imagine trying to film this by yourself with a selfie stick! I would look insane if I got caught. At least this way, you could back me up and tell them I’m doing it for money,”

He chuckled. “I wouldn’t know what to say if I got caught like that,” Ethan said. It would be a dream to catch you filming your own feet in the park and I don’t know how I’m going to stop myself from licking them, he thought.

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Soon after he met Braeden in college, Ethan noticed how nice his feet were. He always noticed how nice people’s feet were. Generally, he tried to avoid taking too keen an interest in his friends’ feet. Foot fetishists have a creepy reputation already, and Ethan didn’t want to be thought of like that. Besides that, Ethan had gotten close with Braeden. He wasn’t about to ruin a good friendship because he wanted to suck toes. There were plenty of other toes to suck.

However, one afternoon at Braeden’s apartment, he got a little too nosy. Ethan had always wondered how he afforded so many shoes and video games. The few times he asked about it, Braeden was dodgy. Never close to a satisfactory answer. He’d always had more money than Ethan and their other friends in college, and Braeden claimed for years that all he did was wait tables.

“Okay, seriously, how did you afford a new PC? Didn’t you get a PS5 like six months ago?”

“Working at the restaurant, dude! People like to tip young, strapping men like yours truly,”

“Of course,” Ethan laughed, “but it’s not just the games, or even the shoes and the games. I mean, this apartment is nice as hell! And we hang out too much for you to work much more than like 25 or 30 hours a week. I don’t want to pry, but I’ve always wondered. I’ll only judge if it sounds exceptionally dangerous,”

Braeden looked at Ethan for a few seconds. “Okay, fine. But this stays between us,”

“Of course! I’m not looking for gossip. Maybe some finance tips,”

“So, um. Have you ever heard of BraxTheeAlpha on Onlyfans?”

Ethan roared, “No way! I haven’t heard of him, but he sounds hot,”

“He’s sort of a hunk, yeah,”

“Is it safe to assume you are Brax?”

“In the flesh,” said Braeden, cartoonishly flexing, “Is it really that surprising?”

“Well, yes and no. I mean, like LMFAO said, you’re sexy and you know it. I just didn’t take you for the type, I guess. I don’t know what the type is, exactly,”

“Young, hot and sort of broke?”

“I’d throw vein in there,” he said, and laughed as Braeden started flexing again, “So, I have two follow up questions,”

“Yes, you can subscribe. It’s ten bucks a month,”

“Wow, affordable!” Ethan took out his phone and pretended to start looking it up, “How do you spell that?”

“B-r-a-x and ‘Thee Alpha’ like ‘Thee Stallion’. No spaces,”

“Got it. I’ll need that for my research,” he said. Lying is easier when you just tell the truth as a joke, thought Ethan.

“Looking to invest in a local, humble sex worker?”

“No, just trying to figure out how much money my friend makes from selling access to what type of pornography,”

“Okay, I’ll start with the less embarrassing part. I make about six thousand a month from posting: fourty-five hundred or so from monthly subscriptions and around two thousand from tips, used socks, custom videos, other fetishy content. Give or take a couple hundred,”

“Damn, that is definitely not embarrassing,”

“Nah, it’s tight. But I make… foot fetish videos,”

Ethan’s eyes got wide. “Damn, no way! I knew people liked feet, but I didn’t realize you could cash in like that without showing hole,” he lied. “I don’t think that’s embarrassing,”

Braeden laughed, “Well, I guess I don’t think of it like that as much anymore. I mean, the feet are where the money’s at. There’s just that connotation, you know? I got a couple foot people in my Instagram comments and DM’s freshman year of college. I thought it was super weird and just hid the comments at first. Then, some of them started offering money. I got talking to this one dude who bought pictures and he told me I should start a foot page or OnlyFans or something. Eventually, I did. It started as something to do for a little extra spending money, but the shit took off after a couple years of doing it. Now, I have this whole separate online foot master persona. When I graduated college, I just told my boss I was gonna take an extra two years for a graduate program and needed to stay part time. I do like 20 hours a week at the restaurant, but most of my money comes from the same amount of time doing stuff for the OnlyFans. If it keeps going well, I might just do it full time,”

“Damn, I don’t blame you if you’re making that much. Still, 20 hours a week? What takes so long?”

“Well, I’m counting going to the gym. I always wanted to go more during college anyway, and these foot dudes will pay for your used socks, sweaty underwear, videos of my feet in the gym mirror – they love that jock alpha shit. The more in shape I am, the more money I make. Filming and editing the videos takes some time, posting on Twitter, Instagram and OnlyFans regularly, responding to DM’s, video calls. I’ve had to coordinate a couple meetups with people to film videos. It’s all pretty fun, to be honest. I’ve gotten into it more than I ever thought I would. Plus, it’s way easier than finding a ‘real job’.”

“Honestly, dude, that’s sweet. If you like doing it and you can make that much with it, why not,” Ethan thought he was holding it together pretty well.

Relieved, Braeden reached over to slap Ethan’s hand and said, “Thanks, man! I’m honestly glad you asked. It feels good to tell somebody in real life,”

“Yeah, dude, glad you told me! I can’t believe I’ve been hanging out with a foot celebrity for all these years,”

“Y’know, since you reacted so cool, do you think you’d ever be willing to help me film some things? I can get most of it done on my own, but I’ve had to decline a few offers because I couldn’t film something right. I’d give you a quarter of the profit from whatever videos you help with,”

“Oh, sure, dude, whatever you need!” That felt too eager. “Well, maybe not anything,” he turned red and added, “but I can help you film for a little money,”

“Nothing too crazy, I just need somebody to film while I’m walking or moving or whatever. Or while somebody is licking my feet. You don’t have to get your tongue dirty if you don’t want to,” Braeden winked, his last sentence delivered with a bit of BraxTheeAlpha arrogance.

“I can help with the camera, I would need a bigger cut of the money to go that far,” Ethan laughed, his cheeks ripening still.

“Nah, I have plenty of people willing to do that part for free,”

“Clearly! They pay you just to look at them,”

“Exactly. You’ll have to do a lot more than lick my feet and help me film here and there to get a chunk of the BraxTheeAlpha empire,” Braeden’s joking condescension felt more genuine with each sentence.

Ethan felt compelled to follow this dominant streak to see where it might lead, but he couldn’t bring himself to submit to his friend like that. “Alrighty, if the all-powerful BraxTheeAlpha needs any help taking videos of his feet for horny men on the internet, he can let me know,” Ethan chided.

Braeden laughed hard at that and said, “For sure, man, I will,”

Ethan waited three days to subscribe to BraxTheeAlpha on OnlyFans after that. His username was EthanLovesToes, but his profile picture was of an anonymous man’s feet and his page contained no identifying information. The topic never came up between them, so Ethan assumed Braeden didn’t make the connection. The thought of telling Braeden about his foot fetish crossed Ethan’s mind pretty often once he knew about his profession. On one hand, he loved Braeden as a friend. They were both single, open-minded people, but they’d never had a sexual relationship at all. On top of that, Ethan wasn’t sure how much, if any, of Braeden’s motivation for running the page was sexual. At the same time, Ethan couldn’t help but think about the potential of getting more intimate with Braeden’s feet.

The first time Braeden asked for help was about two weeks after Ethan found out about BraxTheeAlpha. They were hanging out at Braeden’s apartment and about an hour in, Braeden told him that he either needed to leave within ten minutes or record somebody worshipping his feet. Ethan agreed to stay. The man was only there for about half an hour and Ethan, the only person there not wearing an elastic mask, was introduced as ‘Master’s friend and cameraman’. Although there was a dream scenario unfolding in front of him, Ethan’s focus was strictly on filming a good video; as much as he could, he tuned out the verbal admonishment Braeden’s sub was receiving. He knew he’d be able to watch the video later on, he figured, why risk popping a hardon? What if he got too horny and outed his fetish? When the man left the guys joked around about it for a bit, but Ethan changed the subject as soon as he could. Just keep saying yes, Ethan reasoned, even if you never do anything but help him film here and there, maybe an opportunity will present itself. Braeden asked him to help record a video of him walking barefoot in Carson Park the next week.

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“Speaking of not knowing what to say, try not to get weirded out by the dirty feet talk you’re about to hear. The dude who bought this video said don’t hold back on the humiliation,” said Braeden as he handed his phone back to Ethan, “That looks great, by the way. That would have been impossible for me to get alone,”

“All in a day’s work,” Ethan said with a coy smile.

“I’m impressed you know how these foot freaks like their videos. It took a lot of trial and error, and comments and DMs from horny foot dudes, for me to figure it out,”

“Heh, I guess I just have an artist’s eye,” Braeden laughed at that, and Ethan hoped that meant he played it off well.

“I’ll say,” he replied. “Okay, frame it so my feet are about center, and make sure it cuts off somewhere between my shoulders and neck,” Braeden dug around in his canvas tote until he found his microphone. “Oh, and feel free to move the camera around a little bit, but make sure stick around for a while on each angle. I need to get screenshots for the socials,”

“What a marketing king. Tell me when you’re ready,”

“Ready!”

“Okay – five, four, three, two,” he pointed at Braeden and hit record. Though he’d been scrunching his toes absentmindedly since he sat down, Braeden started exaggerating the stretches and wiggles for the camera.

He began, “I hope you knew what you were in for when you asked to clean my dirty feet, boy. These fuckers need a lot of TLC. You’re not finished until every inch is spotless,”

With that, Ethan brought the camera in close and swept the view across Braeden’s soles to show all the dirt some internet sub paid to imagine he was cleaning.

After a robust silence filled with a medley of teasing foot wiggles, Braeden continued, “It’s probably killing you that you can’t do anything about it. Helplessly masturbating behind a screen, knowing that a washcloth in my shower is going to receive the honor of revealing the smooth soles beneath this dirt instead of your tongue,”

He wasn’t kidding when he said he had gotten into this, Ethan thought. The first time he filmed, having to focus on shooting Braeden’s feet around some dude’s head helped keep him from getting into the content. Today, it was just him and the dirty soles of BraxTheeAlpha. Ethan pulled the camera back a bit. Taking his body with the phone, he lowered the camera below Braeden’s crossed soles. He made sure the shot was focused, then looked up at Braeden for the first time since the video began. The self-assured smile on his face made Ethan’s dick twitch. His eyes shot back at the phone.

“How sad. I’m sure you’re fucking leaking just imagining this dirt,” he rubbed his feet together, “sprinkling onto your pathetic face,” Braeden spat at the ground. The loogie landed less than a foot from Ethan’s face. “Loser,” Ethan looked for Braeden’s eyes after that line and found them staring back at him. Braeden maintained that cocky expression and resumed, “I mean, seriously. Aren’t you like 50 and married? And you’re paying some 23-year-old on OnlyFans $50 for two three-minute videos of his filthy feet? You could take that money and go spend a nice date night with your wife, or maybe save it up for a gift for her. Instead, you want to give it to me, so you can pound your piggy little cock looking at my fuckin’ feet,” Braeden laughed at the idea, “That’s incredible, truly. At this rate, I can’t imagine what you would pay me to come treat you like the dog you are in real life. You’d probably even let me fuck that wife of yours if I wanted to! For now, I’m happy just fucking your wallet,”

Despite the specificities, Ethan was just as hypnotized by the degradation as he imagined the cuck buying the video would be. He was fully hard by the end of the monologue and had to get creative to make his final camera angle shift without showing it. He backed the camera up as he moved into a squat, dick secure against his waistband, and panned the camera upward.

“Come back down here, bitch, I need you up close and personal. You have to kiss the soles gracing your screen before I finish up,” Albeit he was making eye contact before, this statement felt more like it was directed at the customer and the cameraman. He looked up to see Braeden smile and wink, then motion his head downward, eyebrows raised. Ethan did as he was instructed and sank back into his previous position.

“There you go. C’mon, even closer,” Ethan scooted forward, his hand now an inch from the evaporating loogie, “Now plant a big wet kiss on that screen, pig. Mhm, good boy,” Braeden raised his feet in the air, “Now wave goodbye! Oh, I forgot to mention, you owe me $25 if you came the first time through,”

Braeden set his feet down, but Ethan kept filming. He barely noticed Braeden was trying to wrap it up he was so fixated on the iPhone screen.

“Cut, buddy! That was over three minutes, right?”

Ethan scrambled to end the recording and check. He stammered, “Uh, yeah, it was 3:23,” and hopped to his feet. His brain was having trouble breaking out of BraxTheeAlpha’s enchantment.

“Sweet! I hope it wasn’t too weird that I was looking at you. It helped me get into the verbal, so thanks,” Braeden’s expression had softened some, but with his ankles crossed and soles facing him, he still carried a superior glow.

“Oh yeah, man, it was, uh, I mean, I sorta figured that,”

“Let me see the video, dude!”

Ethan handed him the phone and Braeden started skimming through. He brushed the dirt off his shirt. “I tried to get a couple different angles,”

“You did!” he said, scrubbing through, “I like it. And this last one will be great for the screenshots. Okay, great, let’s get out of here,” Braeden unclipped his microphone and returned it to the bag. After he pulled out his slides, he brushed the dirt off his soles and placed each foot in a sandal. “You good, dude? You’re kind of staring,”

“Yeah, um, I was just waiting for you,”

“Look man. If you’re not gonna say it, I need to ask – are you into feet?”

“How – what?”

“So yes, then,” Braeden paused for a response and continued when he didn’t get one, “It’s not a big deal! I love dudes with foot fetishes. I mean, I’ve made a career off the guys, for god’s sake,”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you; I didn’t want you to think me being into your feet was part of why we were friends or anything like that, but when you told me about this and asked for help, I couldn’t say no,”

“Oh, I could tell! I had absolutely no idea you were into feet before you were excited to help me film so quickly. I’d assume if you were perving on my feet before that, you would have done something creepy already,”

“You knew that long ago?”

“Well, no, but that was the first little clue. Then, I thought it was a funny coincidence that somebody called EthanLovesToes subscribed to me just a few days after I told you about the page,”

“I figured that Ethan’s a common name…”

“Right, so did I. I didn’t even think much of it when that worship video turned out so good, because I figured the idea of filming the feet and not the head was pretty easy. It was when the video of my soles walking was so perfect. It took forever for me to get how I should film for the OnlyFans. After that, it all sort of came together in my brain. So, during the video, I made sure to pay attention to how you were reacting. When I say visibly horny, I need you to know just how much I mean that,”

Ethan’s face burned through his shy smile. “I was trying so hard to hide it!” he said, and Braeden laughed.

“Well,” Braeden stood up and walked over to Ethan, “there’s not a ton of great ways to hide that,” he said, pointing to the vertical lump in Ethan’s shorts.

“Listen,”

“Let’s walk back to the car. I have way too many ideas, and as much as you love my feet, I don’t know if you want the world to see those ideas,”

“Okay…” of course, Ethan was going to follow. He just couldn’t find any words. He would pay good money to watch the porno flick that he was living and breathing. The two started back toward the parking lot, toward a situation too good to be true.

“Do you have any other plans today, bud?”

“Um, not really. I was just gonna go play some games when we were done hanging,”

“Perfect! What game are you playing right now?”

“Oh, nothing new, just Dota,”

Braeden kept the small talk going as Ethan tried to make sure this was all still real. He wasn’t dumb; he knew Braeden finding out was a possibility. What he couldn’t believe was how perceptive he had been. The boner was a bit of a giveaway, but it sounded like Braeden knew before that. Regardless, judging by his reaction, Ethan should have drooled over them from the start.

As the driver’s side door closed, Ethan opened his door. By the time he was sitting, Braeden’s dirtied feet were hovering above the seat. He waited to get in and looked at his friend behind the wheel.

“Go on and sit down, Ethan! If at any point I go too far, say ‘banana’, and we can split,”

“Very clever safe word,” he said, sliding underneath his feet. There wasn’t much loose dirt left sticking to them, but his soles were still stained brown. “I never thought I’d say something like that to you,” Ethan chuckled.

“Same here, but sexy times call for sexy measures! Here’s the deal, Ethan: BraxTheeAlpha has been growing, but I haven’t been able to find the extra time to spend on it. I’m gaining followers, but I know if I were posting more often, and added new types of content, I could grow even faster and net more money from that growth. That’s where I see you coming in. Start massaging my feet if you’re intrigued,”

Ethan let hardly a second pass before he grabbed Braeden’s left foot and began to rub.

“Great! So, it’s been a struggle to find anyone because, while I make good money, I don’t make enough to lop off a living wage to pay somebody to help me out,” Ethan switched to Braeden’s right foot, “The only subs I talk to online who I think would do it for, let’s say alternative compensation, live too far away for that to be possible. Pop my right big toe in your mouth and start sucking if you see where I’m going and want to hear what I have in mind,”

This time, Ethan hesitated. Braeden just raised his eyebrows and waited, pointing the toe toward him. Timidly, Ethan leaned forward. He let his lips rest on the top of Braeden’s toe for a moment before he welcomed it into his mouth.

“I want you to record and edit all my pictures and videos,” Braeden began, maintaining eye contact as Ethan listened to his potential duties and swirled his tongue around the big toe. “We can schedule one or two times a week to record. I’ll still come up with some ideas for content, but I definitely want your input. You’ll manage my Instagram, Twitter and OnlyFans as well. Still interested, Ethan?”

He nearly spat Braeden’s toe out before he realized he wasn’t given a new command. Ethan nodded.

“Good – you had the right idea, left big toe now,”

Ethan’s right hand kept a grip on Braeden’s sole as he pulled the cleaned toe from his mouth. He used his other hand to bring his left toe to his mouth for the same treatment.

“Each new video, unless it’s a custom, needs to have a preview posted. I’ll leave editing them down to your discretion, just make sure it’s hard to cum without the full video,” Ethan laughed through the toe at that requirement. Braeden smiled and reasoned, “It’s good business!”

He took the toe out of his mouth but left his lips brushing against the bottom. “Hey, you’re the expert, I believe you,” said Ethan. When he finished speaking, he put it back in to signal Braeden to continue.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he snickered, “Sometimes I’ll just do a photoshoot – I like those to be between 15 and 20 pictures. Post one to four on Twitter and Instagram. For either video or photo previews, use the OnlyFans caption for the post and link the OnlyFans in the replies on Twitter and on Instagram Stories. I’d imagine you’re still in – start giving my other toes some love if I’m right,”

With a smack, Ethan removed the big toe and eyed up the second. First, he darted his tongue in the space between the toes. Satisfied it was clean, he engulfed the second toe and looked back toward Braeden.

“Ethan, I think you may be the man for this job,” Ethan smiled and started cleaning between Braeden’s second and third toe. “A couple more things, though. Like I said, I’ll still come up with ideas for videos, but I want you to compile any ideas or custom requests you find in my replies or my DM’s. Bring them to our recording sessions, as well as any messages or comments you think I might want to respond to personally. I’ll start signing the posts and replies that come directly from me,” he paused and waited for Ethan to look up from sucking the life out of his middle-left toe. “I hope you’re listening,” Ethan nodded, “and I hope you remember I have two more toes on this foot alone,” Braeden teased.

“The thought of it is making it a bit harder to focus,” Ethan admitted.

“You should have plenty of quality time with them to come,” Braeden said, and Ethan slipped his tongue in between the third and fourth toe, “but we have an interview to finish before I offer you this gig,”

“Fair enough, fire away,” Ethan said as he dove onto the fourth toe. He felt Braeden’s pinkie toe wiggling against his cheek.

“I also want you to respond to some of the spammy DM’s and comments. You’re a foot guy, I’m sure you’ll figure that out quickly. I think that’s it for the job description, let’s talk compensation,”

Ethan finished scrubbing between Braeden’s final two toes and said, “I hope I’m getting a preview of the employee benefits right now,” he said, finally taking the pinkie toe in and sucking.

“You read my mind! Specifically, if you don’t feel comfortable being on camera, I’m willing to offer an hour a week after a recording session for you to have your way with them as payment,”

With a sloppy, deliberate slurp, Ethan pulled all five of the toes on Braeden’s left foot out of his mouth and asked, “Can I start sucking the toes on your other foot to find out what I get if I am willing to be on video?” Braeden grinned and nodded, and Ethan dove in.

“I knew I sensed something special in you! Not every video will be a worship video, but a hell of a lot of them will be. If you want to wear a mask, you’re more than welcome. Of course, let me know if a video brushes up on a limit. On top of the private foot worship, I’ll throw in a cut of the profits. If I can make $7k a month, I can quit the restaurant and not lose any money. Anything I make beyond that is yours until we get to a 50/50 split. If you agree to that, I want both of my big toes in your mouth,”

Although he wasn’t even done with the third toe, Ethan couldn’t comply with Braeden’s demand faster. He started sucking both toes and Braeden pinched his cheeks with his big toes and second toes and pulled Ethan in towards him.

“This is going to be a very fun situation for the both of us,” he sneered and pulled his toes out of Ethan’s mouth. Braeden tapped his cheek firmly with the sole of his foot. “I’ll write up an official contract for us to sign next time we meet up,” he said. Ethan started to respond, but Braeden shushed him and placed both soles over his face. He continued, “I’ve been pretty cordial with this so far, but there’s one aspect I haven’t touched. You’re going to have to get comfortable with submitting to me on a regular basis. Nod if you understand,”

After Ethan nodded, Braeden extended his legs and pushed his head back until it was against the window.

“Start licking my soles,” Ethan opened his mouth wide and wiped his tongue against every square inch he could reach in his compromised position. Braeden continued, “We can still be friends, but this arrangement will be more intense than just friends with benefits. Outside of filming sessions, I’ll still call you Ethan and you can call me Braeden. We can hang out and play games! I also want our correspondence during the week about posting to remain professional. However, during filming sessions, from the second you walk in my door until we’re done filming, I will expect a total shift in the power dynamic. You will address me as either Sir or Master, and I will call you whatever demeaning name I see fit. I’ll establish an itinerary before the session, which will begin with your list of custom requests and video suggestions, and we will remain in our Dom and sub roles until the itinerary is complete. Between filming actual videos, I will expect you to remain subservient. You will be instructed to complete tasks outside of what will be posted online. For at least eight hours a week – no mandatory overtime, but there will probably be requests – you will be mine. Since you have tonight free, that begins right now. If you understand, hold my legs up and start licking the rest of my soles clean, boy,”

“Yes, sir,” said Ethan. He took Braeden’s calves in his hands and pulled them from his face, but before he could continue cleaning, his Master delivered a swift slap to his right cheek with his sole. The kick came with far more force than the tap he had just received.

“Remember the safe word, boy, and make sure you thank me when I give you a command,”

“Yes, Sir, thank you, Master,” if it weren’t for his stinging face, Ethan would have pinched himself. With a new fervor from the hit, he dove back in to continue sucking the dirt off Braeden’s soles.

“Good piggy. You’re even more of a duck to water than I’d have thought,” he lifted his foot slightly and bent his toes toward him. Instantly, Ethan started sucking his heel and Braeden laughed. “A duck to water,” he repeated, still chuckling, “I can’t believe I missed out on this for five years,”

Once the heel he’d been offered was clean, Ethan moved Braeden’s feet to the side and said, “Thank you, Sir, I’m so excited to get started.

Braeden giggled and raised his feet back up, “That’s how I know this is going to work out,” he said, then pointed the other heel toward Ethan, who promptly took it upon himself to begin cleaning, “you learned from that slap. Plus, you’re already picking up on those nonverbal cues,” Braeden paused for a moment and Ethan kept licking. Dissatisfied, he took his other foot and slapped Ethan’s left cheek.

“Sorry, Sir. Thank you for the compliment, Master,” Ethan rushed in response before returning to his task. It wasn’t as hard as the first, but still plenty strong enough to relay the message.

“I might have spoken too soon! Try to learn from the slap this time. Now that I’ve got your verbal agreement, we can move onto some foot sub training. It might be a little painful, but I’ll try to avoid visible bruises,”

“Respectfully, Sir, that would be a banana,” Ethan said softly between licks.

“Fair enough, boy, I figured as much. Glad you said it. Though, it’s not gonna be smooth sailing,” he said. To make his point, he took his foot out of Ethan’s mouth and twisted his nipple with his toes through his shirt, causing him to yelp. “Work on cleaning the other foot if you understand,”

Ethan thanked his Master and pulled Braeden’s right foot to his face. Once the toes Ethan hadn’t gotten to clean already were in his mouth, Braeden let go of his nipple.

“Fantastic,” Braeden pulled out his phone and scrolled for a minute while Ethan worked on getting his spotless. The heels and toes were looking clean, so Ethan moved on to the side of Braeden’s right foot. He lowered his phone and gazed out the window, then said, “Sun’s gonna set in about 20 minutes, which means the park’s gonna close. My feet should be clean enough to put back in my sandals by then. If they’re not, you’ll drive me home, get in your car and leave to go edit and send the videos we just made. Tomorrow’s Saturday, so unless you have plans you absolutely can’t get out of, I’ll expect you at seven A.M. sharp to start filming. Well, we’ll start filming time – I’ll have a list of chores and a key under the mat. That should keep you busy until you wake me up at nine to start your, oh, I guess we can call it an orientation,”

“Thank you, Sir,” said Ethan, speaking between licks more fervent than before, “but what if I do have them clean before the park closes?”

“Well, you’d avoid your first real punishment, and playing Dota tonight would turn into some of the more fun parts of that orientation I talked about. I have another custom request to film and a video idea of my own,”

“Perfect, Master, I’ll try to get these cleaned to your liking as hard as I can,”

“That’s the spirit, Feethan!”

Ethan laughed and said, “That’s cute, Sir,”

“Get licking; be a foot scrubber now so you don’t have to be a toilet scrubber later,” Braeden demanded. He turned a playlist on and closed his eyes.

Get licking he did. He wasn’t really worried about the time limit – Braeden’s feet were so close to cleaned. It would be a labor of love to get them across the finish line. Ethan began with the right foot. He gathered as much spit as he could and slobbered it from top to bottom.

Compared to some of the feet Ethan had cleaned, Braeden’s feet weren’t even all that dirty. They were so smooth, and he normally kept them clean, so most of the dirt came away with a few licks. The guy would need to be barefoot a lot longer to challenge Ethan’s veteran tongue. He had the dirtiest spots excavated by the time his Master finished breaking down his new sub role. Now, he just needed to lap up what he missed, which meant he got to explore every inch of Braeden’s sole over and over again. He scrubbed some spots with his tongue. Each problem area would meet Ethan’s circling tongue while his lips sucked at the skin. When he figured he had it clean, he would release the sole and make sure he left only flesh remaining with a final lap. Meticulously, he went about spot checking the right foot for about five minutes in this way. Taking a minute or two to ensure the tops sparkled as the soles did, he then wiped the excess moisture onto his cheek, figuring he wouldn’t be allowed to use his shirt. He finished Braeden’s left foot even faster and used the same cheek method to dry it. Ethan gave them both a final once-over. He glanced out the windshield to check where the sun was at, then back to the feet. Reasoning that his tongue was probably dirtier than the soles at this point, he lowered Braeden’s feet to his chest with the sun inches from the horizon.

“I believe they’re clean, Master, would you like to check?”

“Obviously, boy,” Braeden turned the music down and flipped the overhead light on. His left leg supported by the foot on Ethan’s chest, he grabbed his right foot and crossed it over his knee. Flexing his ankle in every direction, Braeden made a show of inspecting for dirt. He spread his toes and peered between them. Finally, he said, “One down, one to go,” When he switched feet, instead of placing his right foot on Ethan’s chest, he opted for his face. Smothered sideways against the window, Ethan had to listen for the cue that would mean the difference between continuing an unimaginable night at his friend and Master’s feet and a night of homework into an early morning of chores.

“Thank you, Sir,” Ethan managed to say through squished lips. He figured a little gratitude wouldn’t hurt his chances.

“Don’t get used to this, but thank you, pig. You managed to snarf that dirt up so well, I don’t need to shower tonight. Which means you don’t have to do my chores until you screw something else up!”

“Oh, good, Master, thank you! I’m so glad I did well,” he said, still moving his mouth from between foot and glass. Mercifully, Braeden released him. He slipped on his sandals and opened his door.

“Okay, loser, when we’re on filming time, I don’t drive. If I’d known this was gonna happen today, I would have made you drive me in your car. You didn’t know either, so you don’t need to pay for my gas this time. But from here on out, filming time equals your gas,”

“Understood, Sir, thank you for allowing me to drive you,”

“Goddamn, dude, I love that you’re this much of a pig. Thanking me for letting you drive me? That’s dope,” He grabbed his crotch and said, “Y’know, if it’s in bounds, you’re being such a good boy that feet might not be the only thing you suck tonight,”

“Thank you, Master, that is well within bounds. I would be lucky to get to pleasure you like that,”

“You sure would be! But I’m getting ahead of myself. Hop in the driver’s seat and let’s get going. We have a great night ahead of us,”

“Yes, Sir, my pleasure!”

Let me know what you thought of what is potentially part one of BraxTheeAlpha! Probably won't start on a part two for my next story, as I want to write about some different scenario with a foot related Dom/sub dynamic. If you have any good premises, send those in as well!

#gayfeet #gayfootmasters #malefeet #foot world #gayfootlover

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bitchyglitterfox · 2 years

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A Love Through The Ages - Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Words: 1.1k

Warning: Angst, Fluff, nonconsensual kissing, blacking out, war, WWII mentions, death, tears, not proofread, female-presenting reader, lots of time skips sorry!

Summary: In which the reader is a lost love of Sargent Barnes, is reincarnated and they meet once again in the present.

I might make this into another part if you would like!

・・・・✪・・・・✪ ・・・・

“Nurse, we need a nurse! The men! Captain America saved them all!” I look up and see a huge group of our missing me heading towards us.

“Wow he really is handsome!” one of the other nurses says. Yeah, steve is handsome but I'm just glad he brought the men back.

“Sergeant Barnes, here let me help you,” I say as I put one of his arms over my shoulder and carry him back to the medical tent.

“Ma'am, you can call me bucky, no one calls me Sergeant Barnes,” he says smiling a bit.

“Alright then bucky, sit here so I can't help you,” I say as I get a needle and thread to stitch up his wounds. “Alright, bucky well this is going to hurt a bit ok?”

“I’m tough nothing can hurt me,” he says. I let out a slight giggle.

“Alright hero,” I say as I put the needle through the first wound. He winces as I continue doing so.

“Bucky you can’t move while I do this”

He stops wincing as I finish sticking up the rest.

“Ok, all done,” I say with a smile.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he says getting off the gurney.

“You know I have a name, and its (y/n)” I say smiling gently

“Alright, (y/n)” he says returning my smile.

・・・・✪・・・・✪ ・・・・

“I have to go back we have to stop this” bucky says

I look at him with sad but understanding eyes. “You come back to me alright, you promise me you will come back to me”

“I promise,” he said while walking away to another mission, wiping away the tear that fell from your eye.

・・・・✪・・・・✪ ・・・・

“I'm sorry, (Y/n), buck was a good man,” Steve tells me as tears fall down his own eyes. I fall to the ground and let my tears fall. I had fallen for Bucky and now he’ll never know. I feel my knees get weak but luckily Steve is there to catch me as I fall I let a sob release from my mouth.

・・・・✪・・・・✪ ・・・・

“Incoming!” a soldier yelled as more bombs came raining down. My eyes widen as I can see the explosions in the distance. I was trying to help patients to a safer location when I look up and see an incoming bomb come, I close my eyes as I cover my patient's body with my own.

BOOM.

Then darkness eloped me.

・・・・✪・・・・✪ ・・・・

I woke up with a cold sweat dripping down my face. That's the 5th time I've had that dream since I accepted the job as curator of the American history building of the Smithsonian. I look at the clock and see the time is 5:00 am. Might as well get up and ready considering it is my first day.

I was walking around watching all of the smiling children look in excitement at the “Howling Commandos” exhibit.

I turn around and bump into someone, “Oh excuse me sir I didn't see you there” I say looking at him, this can't be possible, James Barnes is dead! This guy can't possibly be him! He just stares at me

“(y/n)?”

“Yes?” I answer a question. The moment I said yes he speeds off and into the crowds. What the hell was that? Who the hell was that? And how did he know my name?

・・・・✪・・・・✪ ・・・・

“Bucky NO!” I jump awake, holding the sheets to my chest. I wipe off the sweat from my forehead looking over at my alarm, 5:30 am blinking back at me. This is the third time this week I've had that same dream. Ever since I saw that man who looked like James Barnes at the Smithsonian a couple of days ago. I sit up and walk to my closet picking out a pair of blue jeans, a white dress shirt, and a black blazer, slipping on my black bobs and walking to the bathroom to comb my hair.

Once I get to my office I noticed a letter on my desk, my name in beautiful cursive lettering. The letter said to meet James Buchanan Barnes on a bench outside the carousel at 12 pm. It was currently 9 am and I had a bunch of paperwork that I needed to get done before my lunch.

I stretch in my desk chair and notice that it's 11:50 am, luckily I had just finished all my paperwork so I headed out to meet the person who left me the note.

When I arrive at the bench I see a man hunched over wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, he turns to me and takes off his glasses.

“I got your letter, I wasn't going to come but something made me come and I want to know how you knew my name.”

“You, you look exactly like her it's almost impossible but then again im 99 years old, super soldier, assassin. You look exactly like her” he says pulling out an old photo of a woman who looks exactly like me, same hair, eyes; everything. That explains the dreams but it is too much to process.

“I-uh this is a whole lot to process” I stand up grabbing my stuff ready to run away from this all, “I-I need, what I need is to-” I feel dizzy, my head is spinning, and soon everything goes black.

・・・・✪・・・・✪ ・・・・

I wake up with a jolt and a headache, looking around me I realize I’m not in my apartment or the fact that I’m not in the park but I am luckily in my clothes from this morning. Luckily enough the bed im in is nice, soft, and smells like a mixture of woods and cinnamon, it's homey. I swing my feet over the side of the bed and have my feet hit the cold wooded floors.

“Wait where are my shoes?” I silently walk out of the bedroom and see the man, Bucky, sitting in a chair in the corner of the room flipping through a book.

He notices your presence and closes the book without saving the place.

“I hope your head isn't still hurting I left you pain meds and water on the bedside” shit how’d I miss that?

“Um yeah, my head doesn't hurt so I didn't need them.” Just lie through your teeth, “Thank you for helping me when I passed out, you know at the park, but I think I’ve overstayed my welcome. Thank you”

I begin to walk to the front door where I see my shoes neatly placed next to his, worn shoes. I can hear Bucky get up from his place and soon I can smell him behind me; woods and cinnamon. Homey. Familiar.

“Y/n,” he says, his breath tickling the back of my neck as his hand grasps mine that is placed on the doorknob.

“Yes,” I whisper as I turn around slowly. He traps me in between his arm and the door, he lifts a hand to my cheek and I snuggle into his warmth unconsciously. I feel safe, loved even.

“I've missed you,” he says as his lips connect with mine.

#bucky x female reader #marvel #bucky x y/n #bucky angst #bucky barnes #winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky fluff #sergeant barnes #bitchyglitterfox writes

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koco-coko · 5 months

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Ikemen Vampire OC: Elizabeth I

(Don't worry many more ocs are to come, but I thought I'd start with my most 'normal' as of now hehe.)

Also, I modified https://yanderepuck.tumblr.com/post/649268127267504128/free-to-use-character-sheet this for my use so yeah :) Anyways-!

Elizabeth Tudor (Bethy, Lizzie)

General Information

Full name: Elizabeth Tudor

Nickname: Bethy (close friends), Lizzie (acquaintances)

Age: Unclear, but on the younger side of the mansion

Nationality: English

Current place of living: The Mansion

Income: (… 'borrowing' Comte’s money) Works odd jobs around Paris, mostly at art galleries.

Birthday: 9/7

Likes: Paintings, theater, music, novels, etc.

Dislikes: Small spaces, inequality, coffee

Background: Former Queen of England, bringer of the Elizabethan Era, England's self-proclaimed Golden Age. Sassy and quick-witted, Bethy always has something to say about everyone and everything, critical or not. Despite her apparent vanity and tendency for self-praising, she’s incredibly generous. Elizabeth actually ends up running herself into debt from how much she ends up donating to art galleries and theaters. To be fair, she was royalty in her past life- She never had to worry about finances like she does now. Thankfully, Comte's 'willing' to deal with her habitual overspending.

Relationships:

Mary Tudor: For your own sake, never bring up her family. Especially her sister. Mary and Elizabeth got along once, but after a deep “falling out” over Mary’s… devotions, Elizabeth wants nothing to do with the Tudor name anymore. If Mary and Bethy are put in the same room, a loud argument is likely to break out in five minutes. (Oh no she's totally not another vampire oc of mine she totally won't show up totally not I'm definitely not making the three main Tudor children at all why would you even thinking that)

Though a few residents find it suspicious she talks about her sister like she’s still alive…

“Oh, there’s a reason she’s nicknamed Bloody Mary. She’s everything I stand against! Now, I’m not a very superstitious person, but… I’d rather not say her name more than twice… She was always sneaking up on me when we were younger…”

Napoleon Bonaparte: One of Elizabeth’s closest friends, being a fellow former ruler and both having eras named after themselves. They often get into heated debates, but it’s all in good fun. They could be yelling one moment, then out for lunch another. Napoleon is also one of the few who have ever seen the deeper side of Bethy, a simple woman who sits alone at night and overthinks far too often. Napoleon is really the only person in the mansion Elizabeth feels safe around, revealing her true thoughts and perception of herself to him. Still, that's only on rare occasion, but it's a start. (she is totally not mainly shipped with him I dont even know whyd you think that mhm yep totally not oc x canon here)

“Oh, please! Crepes again? Is that all you eat?”

“Says the tea fiend. I’m fairly certain you’re made of that drink.”

“At least it’s something dignified. Ugh, let’s just hurry up. I want to get a good seat at this new café, you know!”

“Hey– wait up!”

Vincent Van Gogh: These two became friends by accident. Bethy is friends with both Theodore and William, so they ended up near each other often. Vincent often acts as Elizabeth’s grounding beacon. Bethy tends to overthink and get stuck in her head, so eventually Vincent allowed her to view his paintings whenever she so pleased, whether he’s in the middle of a work or it’s the dead of night. They’ve yet to intentionally spend time with each other, it’s always accidental. That doesn’t stop the two from getting along, though, and Elizabeth is one of the first in line to buy him new paints or donate to the art gallery he’s a part of. She truly admires his work and would support him in any artistic endeavor. Though, William has caught a glint of jealousy in her eyes whenever Vincent and Theo are talking to each other every now and then.

“Hm? Oh, Bethy! Nice to see you. I’m almost finished with this piece.”

“Wow… It’s wonderful, Vincent! Every work of yours's just seems better than the last! Not to say those are any worse, of course. Where are you going to display it”

“Aw, thanks! This one’s just for my Broer. I thought I’d make him something nice. He’s been working so much lately… Bethy? Is something wrong?”

“... Not at all. It’s just… That’s sweet of you, Vincent. You’re a good older brother.”

Theodorus Van Gogh: Both frantic art enthusiasts, these two clicked instantly. Elizabeth was impressed by his dedication to the arts, Theodore was impressed by her’s. They go to art galleries together and tag along to his work when she can. He’s also one of the few that have seen her true side, but unlike Napoleon, neither Bethy or him get very personal about it. Both know the other is more to the other, and they just accept it. In truth, she’s actually a bit jealous of Theo for having such a good relationship with his older sibling. She’d never admit that, though.

“Didn’t expect to see you here, Hondje.”

“Hm. Well, hello to you, too, Theodorus. And for your information, I imagine myself more of a cat type. Cute and cuddly–”

“Horrible and vicious.”

“Aha, yes! Exactly!”

William Shakespeare: Elizabeth’s best friend in the whole wide world forever and ever and ever and ever! Elizabeth is Shakespeare’s biggest supporter and defender, taking his side over anyone else’s in the blink of an eye. She goes to every one of his plays, donates to his theater weekly, proofreads all his work, and often helps him with costumes and props. There’s a 50/50 chance on any day that she’s at William’s villa instead of the mansion. They’re almost glued to each other, really. They’re so close that many nobles believe they are lovers, but both are entirely against the idea.

“Me? Courting Will? Ha! You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s disgusting. I wouldn’t even wish that upon my worst enemy!”

“Oh, Bethy. Thy words cut sharp into the heart of mine.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure they do. Now, as I was saying, I believe there were some grammatical errors in Act 5...”

Le Comte: Despite their differences, Elizabeth and the Count get along incredibly well. Bethy spends many nights chatting with Le Comte and becomes a reoccurring partner to galas and balls. The main reason for this is because Elizabeth actually finds navigating and manipulating hedonistic life quite enjoyable. She also joins him so she can get in his good favors. He’s rich, and she often gets into debt…

At night, Elizabeth can be found with Comte sometimes, drinking tea and speaking about the menial and the existential. She asks him the same question every night. “Why did you give me a contract?”

At times, they’re two competent adults, and at others, they resemble a teenage daughter asking for dad’s money.

“Why did you give me a contract, Comte?”

“You ask me the same question every night… Do you regret signing it?”

“Not at all. In fact, I’m entirely grateful. I just don’t understand why.”

“Your name is in history, like every other lesser vampire here. Is that not sufficient?”

“... I don’t know.”

BONUS! Arthur Conan Doyle: Elizabeth beats him with her heels whenever he makes a move on her. I mean it. She will snatch her shoe off her own foot and give chase until the end of time if she has to, just to get some good swings to the head. (Theo cheers her on whenever he gets the chance to witness it)

Pet, Prince the Frog: When Elizabeth was first revived, it was raining. The first thing Bethy did after she realized she was alive was to run outside and feel the rain, screaming: “I’m alive! I have no idea how– I’m alive!” While she was out there, she found a frog. In her euphoric state, she found this amphibian life so fascinating, wondering if it could turn into a real prince with a kiss. Unfortunately it didn’t, but Elizabeth has kept him in a large flower vase in her room ever since. And yes, occasionally, she gives him a peck. It never works… but maybe one day…

Physical Characteristics

Addictions: If Bethy gets particularly stressed or upset about anything, she turns to her favorite sweetened teas. She drinks at least 3 cups every day, and when an stressful event occurs, it can easily jump up to 10 and above. Current record is 19.

Bad habits: Bethy bites her nails whenever she’s nervous. Also, whenever she’s mad at anyone, she discreetly starts chewing on her thumb nail specifically. (Elizabethan version of the middle finger).

Eye color: Bright green

Hair color: Hot pink

Skin color: Slightly tanned

Dialect: English, can slip into Old English if she’s upset or passionate about something (or around William in private.)

Drink often: Sweet tea and hot chocolate. Doesn’t find most alcohol appealing.

Good habits: Puts others over herself in almost every scenario, incredibly appreciative of people’s hard work

Height: 5’6”

Hobbies: Going to plays, concerts, art galleries. Window-shopping

Clothing style: Always tries to wear the best dresses she can. Usually wears bright pink, accented by black, and looks very regal (purely on accident). She dresses similarly to Shakespeare, combining the the 15th century clothing with a 19th century style.

Talents: With an incredibly sharp tongue, persuasion is one of her finest skills.

Mental Characteristics

Education: Highly educated for her time due to her status and is constantly spending time in the library so she can catch up with the times. She’s very encouraging to others who want to pursue an education as well (she buys hundreds of books for Jean).

Fears: That one day her sister will return, that she’ll be powerless to stop her. Has a minor case of claustrophobia.

Life goals(next 5 years): For art and education to be enjoyed by the masses, rich and poor, male and female, etc.

Self-perception: Although she has strong convictions and acts like she belongs wherever she walks, it’s just a cover. Elizabeth struggles intensely with inferiority issues and imposter syndrome. Being called a bastard child from a young age, having to wait the longest to inherit the throne, and being a woman in general made her know what fighting for worth looked like. Now, with the contract and being surrounded by true masters of their craft, she has no real idea why she’s here. She’s no composer or poet, just a girl born slightly lucky. She’s simply an art patron, a member of the audience.

Self-confidence: Elizabeth’s confidence is a constantly moving scale. She’s confident in her opinions, hardheaded to an end, but she doesn’t have much confidence in herself.

Assumed external perception: Upon first meeting Elizabeth, she can be seen as very self-centered and vain, talking about everything she’d done to improve the world and the latest fashion and makeup. However, overtime, it becomes clear that Bethy is a kind and giving person, putting others before herself so much that it almost gets frustrating.

Rational or emotional: Emotional reaction, rational response. Elizabeth has strong convictions and is stubborn to a fault. Still, even at her worst, she can put together a good argument.

How could you upset this character: Easy. Mention her sister, brother, mother, or father (basically anything to do with her family) and you’re in for a bad time. For an even easier way, discriminate or insult anyone based on appearances, wealth, etc.

Sleep habits: One of the lightest sleepers in the mansion. She wakes up at any small noise, making her incredibly drowsy in the morning.

Emotional Characteristics

Emotional strengths: Very empathetic and encouraging. She loves teasing, but knows when she oversteps and does everything she can to apologize whenever she’s unknowingly hurt someone.

Emotional weaknesses: Her convictions are quite strong, so any disagreement can turn into a screaming match with her. That doesn’t lessen her ability with words, but being so easily upset and red-faced can make her seem irrational to onlookers.

Introvert or extrovert? Extrovert. She loves talking and being with people.

How do they cope with:

…Anger: Tears, yelling… It's a surprise that steam isn’t coming out from her ears. It doesn’t take that much to get her upset. Usually to calm herself, she’ll lock herself away in her room and either: read, listen to music, or observe the many paintings in her room. A cup of tea always helps, too.

…Unhappiness: Elizabeth deals with it on the daily. She tries to spend as little time with her own thoughts as often as possible. She’s already prone to overthink– she doesn’t need sadness on top of that. She usually just tries to ignore the feelings and move on with her life, focusing on something else until the feelings go away.

…Rivalry: Oh, she thrives on rivalry. She does everything in her power to one-up Napoleon, after all. In reality, Napoleon is the only person she could ses as a “rival,” though it’s more like the relationship between Theo and Arthur.

…New situations: She loves new situations! She enters them with glee and a skip!

…Trouble: She tries to talk her way out of most bad situations in a calm, composed way. She only uses violence if absolutely needed. If that happens, she’s watched Napoleon enough to know how to (kind of) handle a sword, though she’s equipped with a dagger whenever she goes into the city alone.

Meaning of life: To create and understand the world. Bethy believes life reflects art more than it does life, and that the act of creating is the most human thing a human (or vampire) can do.

What would they change about themselves: Elizabeth sees herself as a supporting character. Although she’s ashamed of it, she secretly dreams for the spotlight to hit her one day. That doesn’t mean she wants to be thanked for any of the work she does, though.

What motivates them: Her need to prove herself, to do good in the world. She wants art and life to be enjoyed by all.

What scares them: Her sister, first and foremost. Next in line is people who aren’t open to discussion and changing their minds. Even hardheaded Elizabeth is willing to listen at times.

What makes them happy: Elizabeth usually attends art exhibitions alone due to the fact she can get lost in a painting for hours at a time. It’s rather embarrassing for her if someone notice’s the usually loud and bombastic Bethy staring at a painting like a child staring into a candy store.

Are they often biased: Bethy will always take William's side, then the underdog’s over anyone else’s.

Give or take? Give

Nice or rude? Rude

Pet peeves: She hates the smell of coffee with a passion. She asked for her bedroom to be farthest from the kitchen so she wouldn’t have to deal with the smell in the morning. She also tends to be easily annoyed by people who talk during plays or concerts.

Guilty pleasures: Bethy will indulge in teas any day of the week. Especially in the morning, when everyone is brewing coffee.

Images:

(i don't draw so picrews are the best i can do until I can save enough for to be able to commission so...)

Yippee -insert autism creature here-

(Also @yanderepuck bc they said they were interested in reading the oc bio so um yeah)

As of posting this I've yet to make any masterposts but I will soon!!!! Eventually,,,

#ikevamp oc: Elizabeth I #oc profile #ikevamp oc #ikevamp #ikemen vampire

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weaselle · 2 years

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here’s the real shit:

If you need it to live, it shouldn’t cost you money.

Fancy food? absolutely, get you a job, eat whatever kind of food makes you feel like royalty. Basic sustenance sufficient to be completely healthy? Should be free if you need it. Fancy house? hell yeah, get you a big money job and live in a mansion. Basic housing? Should be free if you need it. Fashionable clothing? Better find an income so you can buy that Gucci. A pair of overalls, shoes, and a jacket so you are covered and warm? Should be free if you need it. Super fancy education? pay up. Good education through college and continued access to information? Should be free to all.

And medical needs? Forget it, listen, if we have the ability to heal someone but we don’t do it, then I know we’re doing the devil’s work, and I’m not even religious.

I know people are gonna have problems so let me get an inb4

First of all, most people won’t just take these basics and then sit on their ass and do nothing, humans are gonna do shit - have you seen what people do in their free time already? Whole huge industries like youtube and hobby stores and shit are based on how much people want to do stuff – you literally cannot sit people in a room with a button labeled “will give you electric shocks” and nothing else to do without them pressing the button (there was an actual study done)

Secondly, most people are generally either not satisfied with the basics, or are only okay with the basics because it allows them to pursue some other worthy goal like school or art or caring for a family member full time or something. So i guarantee most people will still be seeking employment, only jobs will have to pay what people actually feel they are worth instead of paying what desperate people will agree to work for.

All studies of Universal Basic Income experiments and similar have indicated these things are true.

And last, if your undies are still in a bunch over people needing to contribute to “deserve” stuff like food and housing, let me say two things

A: in our earliest groups, humans provably cared for individuals who were not capable of hunting or gathering. Perhaps those individuals contributed in other ways. Perhaps they were loved and their company and presence was considered contribution enough. Or perhaps humanity was such that we just plain wouldn’t let another human in our group starve when we could share our food instead. Whatever the case, we gave up that kind of group to live in this kind of group, and if we can’t maintain that same level of humanity and kindness, then it is a worse group and we should fix it or go back to the other sort.

B: in general, i agree that people should contribute to gain access to things. I think most people WANT to contribute, it seems to me to be hardwired into us as social animals. Personally, i think the artist making do with basic accommodations, eating simple mass foods and wearing government issued clothing so they can spend their time creating music, writing books, practicing dancing or painting or idk, making “how to solve: my computer doesn’t recognize my phone for importing pictures” videos for free on youtube, you know, i think they ARE contributing (shout out to the unsung How To Video heroes, my gods, where would we be without them)

But if you want to talk about really contributing in a targeted societal needs kind of way, then i’m all for that too! So lets talk about some kind of system where, for example, everyone who is physically or mentally able spends 3 years between high-school and college in a National Projects Corps, like the army, but instead they travel to places in our country and are trained and put to work replacing roads, or becoming basic staff in hospitals, or building schools, or doing maintenance on bridges, or doing data entry for public health labs, or, idk, fixing the fucked up water in Flint. Three years seeing other parts of the country, meeting people from other walks of life, and learning valuable skills.

Best of all, a system like this has organic balances. You get a population boom? Well, you’re going to need a lot more public housing, and guess what? you also have enough hands to help build it, because of the population boom. Then, if you’re the kind of person who has a hardline belief about contributing to society, when you see somebody in government-issued overalls living a public apartment complex, you can rest easy knowing they probably fixed roads or built bridges or worked on the sewers or something, just like you.

And by the way, this would ACTUALLY create more of that free market effect people say should fix things. Like, if I have easy free access to food no matter what, i can then choose to only buy sustainably sourced food or whatever.

Anyway, there’s different ways to do it, but basically, if you need something to live a healthy life, a lack of money should never mean you go without it. If you need it to live a healthy life, you should get it. Everything else can cost money, there can still be expensive food and fancy houses, that’s fine, but the basics should be available to all. For free. Because we’re human and in a group together.

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spandexbutterfly4lyfe · 1 year

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hey, i'm sorry, this is a pretty deep question, so please don't feel pressured to answer if you're not comfortable.

i'm a disabled teen with really bad internalized ableism and depression because i'll likely never be able to move out or get a job. i know everyone's experiences are different, but i just had to ask someone's experience: have you found it easier to accept your circumstances in adulthood? or is mourning what could have been just something disabled people learn to live alongside?

This might be hard to understand with the amount of life experience you have so far (because it truly just takes a lot of time and gradual growth of confidence etc to develop it, and that’s normal) but the answer is actually both! Like im not gonna bullshit you just for the sake of encouragement, you’re going to be aware of the way you don’t fit in with the supposed standard human experience for a long time, maybe forever. But you’re also gonna find that there are plenty of ways to exist outside of that “normal” experience that are perfectly fine and capable of happiness.

What tv and movies depict as “normal” life almost never actually exists. If you measure yourself by that, you’ll be miserable forever. And that’s something you see more as you grow into adulthood, which is why it gets easier to accept. The truth is, most people are miserable stacked up to what we’re told is normal. I’m not saying everyone suffers as much as the more intensely disabled do, but you NEED to know that even people who seem to have it all together usually experience: 1) seeming to others like they have it all but feeling like there’s something missing because this can’t possibly be it 2) having gaps in their mental growth and maturity because maintaining an image of a normal life has left them refusing to acknowledge anything wrong that needs therapy etc to fix 3) severe social pressure to have this perfect normal life that results in a subconscious obsession with staying fitting in, blinding the person to escaping the social cult of “good, normal people act like x and care about y and put down z”.

Like, once you realize how fucking freeing it is to not fit into this idea of normal life, you’ll realize you’re capable of so much better than that. You’ll gradually internalize that earning a normal income isn’t that great and that most people are entirely miserable doing it, and that it doesn’t define your worth. And, I am so serious, you do not have a simply nonexistent chance of moving out and having a life. The key here is to find other disabled people!! There are tons of us who’ve managed to move out in unconventional circumstances, either with the help of each other or the help of accommodations. Or both! You can join support groups on Facebook, for an excellent starter. And there are actually some decent ways to still earn money depending on your specific situation.

I went through this exact issue myself for so many years, but it turns out convincing myself I was capable of nothing, no life at all, just because I was disabled and mentally ill did myself an enormous disservice. Just because my version of a happy life didn’t look like theirs didn’t mean it couldn’t be real.

The daunting thing here is that, yeah, this is gonna take work. And since it’s work different from the life expected of you, it’s not laid out for you to follow easily (i.e. college -> job -> marriage -> house -> kids) so you’ll have to figure out the path yourself. But you have years and years to find your path, you don’t have to predetermine it all at once in order to have begun!

All in all, it’s perfectly normal and healthy to have a grieving period for the life you thought you’d have. But accepting that that life won’t exist is actually so helpful because then you can stop hating yourself for not being able to make it happen. It’s not your fault, that part’s not in your control and you should cut yourself some slack for that. But while grieving, the most important thing you can do is decide to try. To take care of yourself even when it feels pointless, because I absolutely promise it’s not. To learn how to cope with it, to put in the work, to ask for help but know your worth so that if someone won’t help you, you don’t feel like that’s your fault!! You deserve a good life too and there WILL be people who care to help make that happen. Don’t let a few ableists destroy your self worth.

Decide to care about yourself and care for yourself and, although tiring at times, the rest will fall into place. Practice makes the trying easier over time, until one day you realize you’re even more adjusted and taking care of yourself better than people who’ve been told they have nothing wrong with them. Pick up some hobbies while you’re young, sculpt and paint and find what scratches your brain for yourself first and foremost. And feel your happiness wherever it crops up, not just in what you think life should’ve been.

#long post #disability stuff #ok to rb

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antlerx-art · 9 months

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GOOD OMENS 2 EPISODE 3 REACTION - CONTAINS SPOILERS‼️

ok so the resurrectionist minisode is in here

jim’s mug

nina my girl silence that damn phone at work

wait IS SHE THE WOMAN WITH THE JAUNTY HAT?

THE SCENE! THE CLIP! FINALLY!

but if aziraphale had already talked to muriel why does it seem like they don’t actually know each other? or do they both know it’s an act?

WHAT NO WAY WE WERE ALL WRONG THE WHOLE TIME? we were so sure crowley was moving to the bookshop but he’s actually just taking out the plants to let aziraphale use the car😭 nooo let me stay delusional

HES LEANINGGG HES GONNA SIT THERE WITH AZIRAPHALE AAHH HE DID IT

no okay muriel is trying to keep the disguise but aziraphale and crowley know they’re an angel, just maybe aziraphale didn’t really know them that well in the past

“word with you angel, in private” I’LL FINALLY KNOW WHAT THE WORD IN PRIVATE IS

THEY/THEM PRONOUNS FOR MURIEL YES!!!!!!!!!

aziraphale’s got used to lying to heaven huh

“one fabulous kiss and we’re good, i have a plan” yeah 🙂

AZIRAPHALE DRIVING THE BENTLEYYY

intro 🕺🏻🕺🏻🕺🏻💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻🕺🏻

watching the intro more carefully my guess is that we’re going to see the gabriel statue thing here

“Ay Zed Fell”

THIS IS THE DIARYYY THE CONFIDENTIAL JOURNAL watch as aziraphale uses a pink glittery pen to write Crowley

and it’s in the past!!!! minisode incoming

“DEAR DIARY” he’s such an high school girlie

AZIRAPHALE WRITING ABOUT HIS DATE WITH CROWLEY AHHHH ripping my hair off

yup as i said statue of gabriel here

crowley is so she/her in this minisode

“that’s lunacy” / “no, that’s ineffable” HAH

classical music in the bentley is a crime aziraphale

“angel, WOT are you doing.”

HE CAN FEEL WHEN HE DRIVES THE BENTLEY UNDER THE SPEED LIMIT LMAOO

NO WAY IT’S YELLOW I CANT BREATHEHEEE

“change it back😠” / “but it’s pretty☹️”

CROWLEY THREATENING TO GIVE BOOKS AWAY i’m sure i’ve seen people drawing a scene like this in some comic i love this show

OOOHHH AZIRAPHALES FACE WHEN HE SPEEDS UP IM SICK

what the heck is in the background are those?? TARTAN MOUNTAINS?

is that furfur? no wait prime video says “demon josh” 👍🏻

crowley and gabriel scene I KNOWW ITS GONNA BE FUNNY

the fly is beelzebub IT HAS TO BE

“vavoom” is the new “wahoo”

jim looks so focused but there’s not one (1) single thought behind those eyes

stop making david tennant say he’s a doctor

AHH aziraphale still can’t drink here

bro you messed up restore that dead body rn

DETECTIVE AZIRAPHALE WITH THE HAT

i think gabriel was with beelzebub

NOO whats happening poor girl

so she was sick already

CROWLEYS HAND

what’s Laudanum Poison

WHAT IS HAPPENING TO CROWLEY HELP😭 is it that thing he drank 😭😭😭😭

where did he go

HES LITTLE OMG WHYYY HES SO TINY if aziraphale puts crowley in his pocket i’ll be dead

alice in wonderland crowley

BIG TALL WOMAN 😍😍 if crowley puts aziraphale in his pocket i’ll be dead

oh this is the part where they mention kwording yourself

i’ll need to rewatch this whole thing it’s so chaotic

OH. MY. GOD.

THE WAY AZIRAPHALE IS TRYING TO STEADY HIMM

THE HAND AROUND HIS ARM AND WAIST IM SO WEAK I CANT DO IT I CANT THEYRE A COUPLE IM NOT OKAY

THEY’RE SOOO CLOSE

if hell noticed you’d already be WHAT crowley

oop he fell (lol)

ahhh this is the meme template scene

“mostly i just use it for twitter” damn bro same

“and grindr” damn bro NOT same

aziraphale is my grandpa using a computer for the first time thinking he has to talk to it BUT IT ACTUALLY WORKS??

jim is about to remember stuff

“mm good job” / “oh, do you really think so?” i’m fine i’m completely okay

aziraphale’s relief after crowley says he hasn’t sold books 😭 also crowley being in charge of the bookshop because aziraphale asked even if he had said to nina “not even at gunpoint”

in company 🫵🏻with beelzebub!!!!!!🫵🏻

“and twitter and grindr whatever they happen to be” H E L P.

THE LITTLE HAT THING AND THE LITTLE LAUGH AND HIS FACE I LOVE AZIRAPHALE SOOOOO MUCH

RAINY RAIN!

she wasn’t having an affair but she felt like it

ARE NINA AND MAGGIE GONNA KISS RIGHT NOW?

CROWLEY I KNOW YOU LIKE ROMANCE

nah i should’ve expected this 😔🙏

OHHHHHHHH jim is spilling the tea

hi shax 😄

VERY CLOSED

NO CROWLEY DONT LEAVE THE BOOKSHOP something’s gonna happen to him NOO IM NOT READYYYY

oh i thought shax was gonna see jim but there’s the miracle i forgot about that

anyway jim is obsessed with books falling and gravity i think it means something

WAR ON AZIRAPHALE?

OH MY GOD PROTECTIVE CROWLEY

“it’s always too late” i’m sick S I C K

i need to recover but i can’t wait to see the 1941 scenes

anyway so far i like how even though this season is very quiet gentle romantic and love centered, it’s not that different from season one, i noticed how well the plot and the romantic moments are mixed together and it’s not really just aziracrow

tagging @neil-gaiman since he said he was interested in reading live reactions

#good omens #good omens season 2 #good omens season two #good omens season two spoilers #gos2 spoilers #gos2spoilers #go2 spoilers #gos2 #gos2 reaction #spoilers

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wheatley-imagine-scenarios · 2 years

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Android Designs Part 2: Electric Boogaloo

Part 2 of the android mini design thingies.

This time: Gloves

Again, I wanted to make some differentiation between each android design. I’m just gonna highlight some of those details for a second- Long paragraph incoming

Keeping with the theme, the main colors of the older cores is black and the main color of the newer ones is white, with GLaDOS having both and Virgil and Nigel being exceptions. I gave the older cores more variation in their designs because I feel like the engineers just got lazy in that department. More on that later. I gave Wheatley fingerless gloves and ngl I was definitely inspired by Vesnawinters’ art to do that. I didn’t give Rick gloves at all. He might have been originally given them, but even if he was, I feel like he would’ve taken them off. Nathan has,, half fingerless? Gloves, idk what they’re called but anyway- Pluto has like,, finger grips? I think? I saw someone say something about how his purpose would have something to do with space rocks (there was more specification but I forgot them-) and I was like ‘perfect’, so basically his job is handling and studying space rocks and yeah. Similarly, we then have Virgil, who I gave touch screen tips on his pointer finger, middle finger, and thumb, because hacker. Nigel I gave a specific version of digital art gloves that I found in google and recolored them to be orange/blue and white. Then for the newer cores, I wanted them to look mostly the same because of the laziness I mentioned, but I also put thought into what the design was. I gave them colored tips (that I have realized look like painted nails but it’s fine), but they’re colored on the front and back, unlike Virgil and Pluto because they don’t really have a functional use. I mean, what would it be? They were created to be attached to GLaDOS and just sit and talk or whatever it is they do. They literally just did it for aesthetic reasons and honestly I get it, it does look cool.

Also I was coloring in the skin purely to differentiate between what was skin (well, artificial skin ig) and a white part of the gloves. That said, I forgot about it by the time I got to Nigel, but the glove itself is white so I think it’s fine

#Wheatley #Glados #Rick adventure core #fact core #space core #Virgil psm #Nigel portal #morality core #curiosity core #anger core #intelligence core #portal #portal 2

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nehswritesstuffs · 1 year

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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.

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rjalker · 2 years

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okay making it again since the first one doesn't want to show up in the tag, probably because of the link, so I'll put that in a reblog.

The Future of Work: Compulsory, by Martha Wells.

Also known as the short story prequel to The Murderbot Diaries

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

It’s not like I haven’t thought about killing the humans since I hacked my governor module. But then I started exploring the company servers and discovered hundreds of hours of downloadable entertainment media, and I figured, what’s the hurry? I can always kill the humans after the next series ends.

Even the humans think about killing the humans, especially here. I hate mines, and mining, and humans who work in mining, and of all the stupid mines I can remember, I hate this stupid mine the most. But the humans hate it more. My risk-assessment module predicts a 53 percent chance of a human-on-human massacre before the end of the contract.

“Knobface,” Elane said to Asa. “You’re not the supervisor.”

Maybe that percentage should have been higher, the way the three humans on the observation platform were fighting about the flow rate. Not that I cared. I was in the entertainment feed, watching episode 44 of The Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon and monitoring ambient audio for keywords in the unlikely event that a human said something important.

“Those things make my insides creep.” That was Sekai, looking at me. Nobody likes SecUnits. Even I don’t like us. We’re part-human, part-bot constructs, and we make everybody nervous and uncomfortable.

I didn’t react. I’m in full armor, and I keep my visor opaque. Also, 98 percent of my attention was on the episode I was watching: The colony solicitor’s bodyguard and best friend had just been crushed under debris while trying to save a transport mech trapped in a crash. Were they really going to kill her off? That sucked.

I didn’t realize anything had happened on the platform until I heard a strangled yell. I ran back my video: Asa had turned abruptly and accidentally bumped into Sekai, knocking her off the platform.

Great. I paused the episode and checked the monitoring drone down in the shaft. I couldn’t get a visual, but I tracked the power signature of Sekai’s suit. She bounced off the stabilizer wall (ouch) and hit a blade on the extractor housing. Gravity was lighter in the shaft, and there was a chance that the impacts hadn’t—yeah, she was moving. I isolated her comm signal and heard harsh, frightened breathing. She had 90 seconds before that blade moved and dumped her down to be incinerated in the collectors.

You would think dealing with this would be my job. But no, my job is: 1) to prevent the workers from stealing company property, everything from tools to disposable napkins from the mess hall; 2) to prevent the workers from injuring and/or killing management, no matter how tempting the prospect might be; and 3) to prevent the workers from intentionally harming one another in ways that might diminish productivity. So HubSystem’s response to my alert was to tell me to stay in position.

The mine was run by cheap, venal bastards, so the nearest safety bot was 200 meters above us. HubSystem ordered me to stay in position; SafetyResponder28 was incoming. It would arrive just in time to retrieve the smoldering lump formerly known as Sekai.

Asa, realizing what he’d done, was making a noise that did uncomfortable things to the organic parts in my head. Elane was sobbing. I could have ignored them and gone back to the episode, but I liked the colony solicitor’s bodyguard and I didn’t want her to be dead. Sekai, a human I was technically responsible for, would be dead soon too.

With my governor module inert, I sometimes do things and I’m not entirely sure why. (Apparently getting free will after having 93 percent of your behavior controlled for your entire existence will do weird things to your impulse control.) Without thinking about it, I stepped off the edge of the platform.

As I fell down the shaft, I kicked the stabilizer wall to push myself into the lighter gravity well. I landed on the housing above Sekai, just as HubSystem sent a command to my governor module that should have flash-fried my inorganic parts and soft human bits. Ha.

Sekai looked up at me, eyes wide. Her helmet had cracked (that’s what cut-rate safety equipment gets you) and her face was streaked with tears. I initiated a secure audio link between my armor and her suit, hooked one hand around the edge of the housing, and reached down. “We have 45 seconds to get out of here before we both die,” I said.

She gasped and shoved upward to grab my arm. As I pulled her against my chest, the blade cycled and dropped. A blast of heat and radiation washed over us. Sekai made an “eep” noise. I wanted to make an “eep” noise too, but I was busy. I said, “Just hook your harness to me.”

She fumbled the clips into place and got them fastened. Now I was free to focus on phase 2 of this stupid plan. I’d hacked HubSystem when I was first shipped here. Now I needed to make it forget what it had just seen. No—I needed to make this look like HubSystem’s idea.

By the time I’d climbed the shaft and slung us both up onto the platform, HubSystem was convinced that it had ordered me to rescue Sekai. I set her on her feet, filtering out the crying on the comm, and pulled up the management feed that I wasn’t supposed to have access to. Good: The supervisors were puzzled that HubSystem had directed a SecUnit to save a worker, but figured it was a productivity issue. Sekai and the others would be hit with fines for almost clogging the collectors with her burning body, but it was better than being dead. I guess.

Elane tried to pull Sekai away, but she turned back and stumbled toward me. “Thank you,” she said. It was like she could see me through my visor, which was a terrifying enough thought that my performance reliability dropped 3 percent.

Asa took her arm gently. “They can’t talk,” he told her.

She shook her head as her friends steered her toward the access bridge. “No, it talked. I heard it.”

Back at my guard station, I started the episode again. Maybe somebody would save the colony solicitor’s bodyguard too.

#Murderbot #The Murderbot Diaries #SecUnit

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borahae-777 · 1 year

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The Truth Untold -- Chapter 20: Give Me Back My Smile, Caught In A Lie

Pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook, Yoongi x Jimin

Word Count: Fic in progress, 200k so far. 3k-5k per chapter

Chapter Summary:

It’s almost as if something in Yoongi snaps. He stands up from his chair, grabs Dae-Hyun by the collar, and drags him out of the room and into the hallway. He ignores everyone’s protests and barrels out the front door with the other man trying to keep up with his grip.

Warnings: Eventual Smut, BDSM, 18+, MxM

Namjoon is in his studio putting the final touches on songs for the album and makes a mental note to ask Jimin to name the song they created for Yoongi. He’s exhausted, it’s been a long day, but there’s too much to worry about to truly relax. It feels like control has entirely slipped from his grasp. He’s used to being able to keep the group in line while also fighting for them with the company. This situation though, is extremely delicate and could go in so many different ways.

He decides it’s time to call it quits for the day when he hears a knock at the door. He opens it to see Jimin and Dae-Hyun standing there. Jimin looks as if he’s barely holding back anger and Dae-Hyun looks completely broken. Namjoon is taken aback and ushers them inside before pulling the privacy curtain shut and locking it behind them.

“Guys, is everything okay?”

“Heh, ask Dae-Hyun.”

“Alright. Dae-Hyun, what’s going on?”

“Namjoon, I’m so sorry. This entire thing got completely out of hand. I’m the one who left the note on Jungkook’s door in Taiwan.”

Namjoon gasps and steps backwards, kicking himself for discounting the man to begin with. How much do any of them even know about him? He sits down in his desk chair and puts one hand to his face, looking up at the other two with an expressionless face.

“Okay. Tell me everything. I mean absolutely everything. If I find out you’re hiding anything, this is going to go very badly for you.”

“My mother is dying. I come from a very low-income family. I bounce around different jobs hoping there will be new opportunities that pay more. Around the time I signed on with BigHit, someone from one of the Big 3 approached me and offered to pay for her entire treatment if I uncovered a gay relationship within BTS. They had no proof or details, just speculation that there was one. I put my discomfort with the idea aside and told myself that saving my mother was worth doing anything.”

Jimin scoffs from across the room, leaning against the wall with his fists clenched.

“Running into Jimin-ssi on my first morning there was a coincidence. I didn’t seek him out. I figured opportunities would present themselves as I worked with you all longer. Then we hit it off so well that day and started to grow closer and then I went with you all to Osaka. I haven’t told Jimin this part, but while I was looking for equipment backstage I, um, I unlocked a closet and saw Jimin and Yoongi-hyung kiss. I immediately ran out and found a corner to cry in because I didn’t want it to be them. I didn’t want to hurt and expose one of the first true friends I’ve ever had.”

Jimin starts choking from where he’s standing and starts to turn red. His hands shake and Namjoon knows he’s about to explode.

“Jimin-ah, let Dae-Hyun finish. We can discuss everything after we have all the information.”

“Yeah, so, then I had dinner with Taehyung-ssi after Osaka and that’s the night he invited me to game night. I had such a great night with you all. I never felt like an outsider, you included me even in your inside jokes. You’re all such amazing people, I was so conflicted. I slept in Jungkook’s room that night since I was too drunk to drive home and I found the note from Taehyung tacked to his corkboard. I grabbed it and took it, figuring it would be all I’d need to bring to my contact in order to get my mom some help.”

“See? What else do you need to hear, Namjoon-hyung? He did it. He explained why. That’s it.”

“Dae-Hyun, is Jimin right? Is that the end of your story?”

“No, no it’s not. I didn’t show the note to anyone. I couldn’t stomach it. Then in Taiwan, Jungkook-ssi invited me for drinks alone and I felt like throwing up. He was being so kind and welcoming and that felt like the nail in my mother’s coffin. I couldn’t do this to you all. So I taped the note to his door before I knocked, figuring it would kind of warn him that he and Taehyung were in danger. I didn’t mean to scare him or to impact the rest of you. It felt like the only way I could help.”

“Tell him about how you chose to handle things with me, Dae-Hyun.”

“Ah. Jimin-ssi is right, I need to come clean there too. After Taiwan, I was starting to realize that I had feelings for him. I’ve always had a twinge of discomfort around homosexual relationships, I explained this part to Jimin. I never imagined myself falling for a man, but it’s Jimin. He’s amazing. I couldn’t stop thinking about him while also knowing I was nowhere near good enough for him with what I’ve been doing. I also had no idea what that kiss between him and Yoongi meant. So I called him up and broke off our friendship.”

“Now tell him about tonight.”

“I was trying to come clean and didn’t know where to start. Jimin-ssi told me to start with what was most important. I-I kissed him. My feelings for him should not have been the most important thing to me and I should never have expressed them by forcing a kiss on him. I won’t make excuses, I did the wrong thing. Then he brought me here to see you, Namjoon.”

Namjoon hasn’t moved a muscle other than to interject between Jimin and Dae-Hyun to keep the peace. His mind is reeling and poring over the possible repercussions of each path he could take from here. Part of him feels for Dae-Hyun, his mother was obviously going to mean more to him than a group of strangers. He can’t pretend to know what he’d do to save his mother’s life.

“Alright. Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to walk up to the CEO’s office with me right now and you’re going to explain this again. Leave out the part about finding Yoongi-hyung and Jimin, and the part about kissing Jimin. Those won’t be relevant to the company. You’ll give him the name of your contact and the three of us will have a very serious discussion. Then we’re going to go back to the dorm and you’re going to come clean to everyone.”

“Absolutely, I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

“Thank you. Go stand in the hallway please but stay in front of the door so I can see you.”

Dae-Hyun bows all the way to the floor in front of both of them, his shoulders starting to shake, before walking to the door and opening the curtain before he stands on the other side of the glass.

“Okay, Jimin-ah. This is entirely up to you, but I need your honesty. When he talks to the group, do you want him to tell them that he saw you and Yoongi-hyung? Is there anything you need to tell me about that?”

“Namjoon-hyung, I promise that we’ve been trying to find the right time to talk to everyone about it. We aren’t hiding it on purpose, but Dae-Hyun had called to end our friendship on the day we planned to and I needed time to get past that before I put anything else on my shoulders. Then you met with Bang this morning and we agreed that figuring out this scandal with Tae and Kook was more important.”

“I understand, I’m not upset. Would you be comfortable telling everyone tonight before Dae-Hyun speaks? That way he can tell the entire story and there won’t be anyone left out of the loop on anything.”

“I’ll talk to Yoongi-hyung, but I don’t see why not. He’s been wanting to hurry up and tell everyone. It’s kind of cute actually, he seems proud to be with me.”

“Jiminie, who wouldn’t be?”

********

Yoongi is sitting in his studio considering going back to the dorm to talk to Taehyung, he’s been sending very cryptic text messages and it’s worrisome. He feels incredibly bad about him walking into Jungkook’s room at the worst possible moment. He wants Tae to know that Jungkook only had the best of intentions, even if he did the wrong thing. He’s used to being the one that Taehyung comes to now, but he keeps blowing him off.

He tries to shake it off and goes back to tweaking the piece on the screen in front of him when he hears the beeping of his door code. He turns his chair around and sees Jimin standing in the doorway, tears in his eyes. He freezes for a minute, unable to look away from how pretty and delicate Jimin looks with his eyes shining. He hops out of the chair and runs to the door, closing it behind them.

“Jiminie, sweetheart, what’s wrong? What happened?”

Jimin recounts his meeting with Dae-Hyun, explaining that the other man was behind things all along. Yoongi’s fists clench in anger and he’s trying not to react so as to let Jimin get everything out. He can feel that old burn in his chest, his ugly temper rearing its head. Jimin is beyond distraught, Jungkook and Taehyung are a mess, and this impacts the whole group. If there’s one thing that Yoongi won’t tolerate, it’s someone hurting his loved ones.

“God, Jimin. I’m so sorry about all of this, I’m glad you came to me. That’s a lot to carry. I know you trusted him and cared about him. Hell, I liked the man too when I spoke with him. I never got the impression he was doing anything shady.”

“There’s more, hyung. He told me that while we all snapped him out of his stupidity, the shining beacon that shifted his mindset was falling for me. He kissed me. I didn’t want him to, I froze and went stiff and he let me go.”

Yoongi falls silent and starts to pace around the room. He’s wondering if one strong punch to the man’s face would be enough or if he’d lose control and not be able to stop. He feels Jimin’s delicate hands wrap around his fists and turns his head to meet his eyes.

“Yoongi, it’s okay. It was just a kiss and I was wiping tears from his face. That was kind of a mixed signal, but he hadn’t told me the rest yet and I wanted to comfort him. It’s my own fault.”

“No. No! I don’t ever want to hear that from you again. I don’t care if it was ‘just’ a kiss or if you were comforting him. I don’t care if you were dancing around half-naked, someone should never kiss you against your will. I’m glad he read your signals and stopped, but the thought of his lips on yours and the fear you probably felt makes me see red.”

“Will you not want to kiss me for a while? Am I tainted?”

Yoongi turns his body towards Jimin’s, grabbing both of his hands and raising them to his lips. He keeps hold of one and reaches for his face with the other. He’s caressing Jimin’s soft, tear-stained cheek and trying to show him with his eyes how much he cares. He’s never been good with words. He leans in and presses a soft and slow kiss against Jimin’s lips, trying to pour all of his affection into it.

“Jimin, there will never be anything in this world that will keep me from kissing you. It is impossible to taint perfection. I love you. I’m in love with you. I think I have been for years and just repressed it to the point where I couldn’t recognize it. These past few months of discovery with you have cracked my heart wide open. It’s okay if you’re not there yet, I just couldn’t wait any longer to tell you. I know this isn’t the ideal time.”

“Yoongi. Shut up. You’re babbling. I love you too, you adorable mess. I’ve been in love with you for years and aware of it. I resigned myself years ago to being your brother and counted myself lucky. Now Min Yoongi is actually in love with me? THE Min Yoongi? Pinch me, I’m dreaming.”

Yoongi suddenly bursts into tears and wraps Jimin in his arms, dragging him over to the couch and curling into him like a comma hugging the break in a sentence. Jimin is crying too and they lay there for awhile whispering their declarations of love over and over again. He never wants to leave this spot. He can see the headline now: Suga of BTS retires to spend life on couch with paramour.

They’re pulled from their haze of affection when both of their phones buzz incessantly. Jimin pulls his from his pocket and sees the group text filling with messages quickly.

“Aish, sorry. I forgot to tell you that we have a mandatory group meeting tonight, Namjoon is making Dae-Hyun come clean to the group. I was supposed to be here asking you if you want to announce our relationship to everyone before he talks. He’s the one who saw us in Osaka and it’s going to come out to the group either way.”

“Absolutely. I’m not sure how I’m going to react when I see that bastard, but nothing would help more than being able to tell our family that we’ve fallen in love.”

Jimin’s face breaks into a smile that is blinding like the sun and Yoongi takes a second to bask in it before he pulls him up off the couch so they can head home.

*********

Jungkook is the first to arrive in the living room for the mandatory meeting. Based on everyone’s responses to the group texts, several of them are finishing up activities out of the house and are doing their best to hurry back. Taehyung never answered at all. Jungkook knows that he’s in his room, he hasn’t left since this morning. It’s driving Jungkook insane, the waiting and uncertainty. Tae said he wasn’t leaving, but this sure feels a lot like a break up.

He hears a noise from down the hall and he sits up straight, craning his neck for a glimpse of who it might be. Taehyung and Jin walk side-by-side in silence. Jin sits next to Jungkook while Tae opts to sit on the opposite side of the room and avoid looking either of them in the eye. Jin is the one who decides to break the silence.

“Is this what the meeting is about, Jungkook?”

“What do you mean, hyung?”

“Clearly something is wrong between you and Tae, did Joonie call the meeting so we could discuss it and help you work through it.”

“No, of course not! We can handle our own issues, we don’t know any more information about this than you do.”

They’re interrupted when Jimin and Yoongi come through the door with beaming smiles on their faces. Jungkook’s spirits lift a little, maybe the meeting is for something positive. Why else would they look so happy? They barely get their shoes off when Hobi bounds in behind them, throwing an arm around each and giggling. The three walk over and settle themselves on the couches.

“So! Why are we all here? Does anyone know?”

“Hob-ah, we need to wait for Joon.”

“Ooooh, Yoongi-hyung knows what this is about! Come on, spill the beans! I bet I can guess.”

“I bet you can guess a small portion, but that portion is not the main part of the meeting. Which will probably shock you all and I need to know you’ll let anyone speaking finish what they have to say before you pounce. So shut it, Hoseok.”

Hobi sticks his tongue out at Yoongi and turns to lay upside down with his legs thrown over the back of the couch, trying to lighten the mood. Only Jimin and Yoongi give him small smiles, unable to resist him moreso than any of the other members.

The front door opens and Namjoon walks in with Dae-Hyun trailing behind him. The brunette looks worse for the wear. His eyes are bright red and still brimming with tears. His shaking hands are wringing against each other and he won’t look at anyone. Jungkook immediately jumps from his seat and so does Taehyung. They run over to comfort their new friend, shocked to see him here in such a state, but Namjoon puts up a hand to hold them back.

“No. Leave him alone and go sit down.”

The leader's stern tone makes them realize this might be more serious than they thought. They both return to their seats to wait. Namjoon goes to the kitchen table and grabs a chair for Dae-Hyun, pushing him down into it at the “head” of the circle before he himself takes a seat in the armchair on the opposite side.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. Dae-Hyun is going to tell us a story. You’re going to let him finish the entire thing before you say a single word. Then I’m going to tell you about the meeting we just had. After that, you may give your input. I’m very serious about this. Hear the man out. Is there anything anyone needs to share with the group before we start?”

Namjoon shoots a look over to Jimin and Jungkook sees his face split into a smile that can only be described as ecstatic. He stands up and after a beat so does Yoongi. They walk to the center of the circle and interlace their fingers, sharing a look of conspiratorial glee.

“Yoongi-hyung and I know what story Dae-Hyun is going to be sharing and we play a role in it. It’s something very serious, but what we have to say as a precursor is kind of amazing.”

“Jimin and I are in love. We want to be together and we want your support.”

Hobi lets out an unintelligible screech and launches himself across the room at the two, the momentum knocking them all to the ground where he continues to wiggle around on top of them.

“I knew it, I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! Jin-hyung you owe me dinner!”

Jin rolls his eyes, but is wearing a fond smile. Jungkook meets Taehyung’s eyes across the circle. He’d been looking at Jimin with glee, but once he looked at Jungkook, the smile had dropped from his face. Now he just looked sad, forlorn, melancholy. Jungkook can’t stand it and looks back at the trio rolling around on the floor with a half-hearted chuckle. Yoongi has been trying to escape since Hobi first ran at them.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough Hob-ah! Let them up! Needless to say, we all support this and couldn’t be happier about it, but now we need to get into serious business.”

“Sorry Joonie, I’m just so glad I don’t have to keep watching this push and pull any longer.”

“Dae-Hyun, the floor is yours.”

Dae-Hyun starts to talk about getting the job at BigHit, being approached by someone at the Big 3, getting close to all of them, stealing the note off of Jungkook’s corkboard and then leaving it on his door in Taiwan. It’s taking everything in Jungkook to not look at Taehyung, to not stand up and say something, to not yell and scream. His respect for Namjoon is the only thing that’s keeping him glued to his seat. He goes on to explain walking in on Yoongi and Jimin in Osaka, confessing his feelings to Jimin and kissing him, and coming clean to Namjoon. As soon as he mentions Jimin, Jungkook can see Yoongi start to turn red and he’s suddenly nervous. They all remember the anger issues that he used to deal with and no one has any desire to see that kind of rage again.

“I suppose I’d like to end the story with an apology, though that seems highly inadequate. There’s no excuse for what I did. I can only promise you that I never did anything with the note other than leave it for Jungkook, I was hoping it would be a sign for him to stay alert and discreet. Instead it had a terrible ripple effect. I’ve really come to like you all and you’re incredibly inspiring people. The last thing I want is for anything bad to happen to any of you.”

Yoongi scoffs and stands up as if to start towards Dae-Hyun, but Namjoon stands up and shoots him a glare. He grumbles under his breath and sits back down.

“Dae-Hyun. Thank you for not keeping anything from them. I appreciate your candor. Now, it’s my turn. Dae-Hyun and I just came from Bang’s office where he relayed the entire story. Essentially the company has decided to turn Dae-Hyun into a ‘double agent’. He doesn’t know the real name of his contact and therefore doesn’t know what company has decided to attack us this way. They worked together to form a plan to hopefully bring down whoever is behind it all. In exchange, BigHit will help his mother.”

“In exchange?! How on earth does he still deserve anything in return?!”

“Yoongi-hyung. I asked you to wait to talk. You may be my elder, but I’m the leader here and this is band business. No matter what Dae-Hyun has done, his mother doesn’t deserve to die just because he has a conscience. That’s enough.”

The room falls silent, it’s rare that Namjoon pulls rank on his hyungs. No one knows quite how to react and just waits for the leader to finish as he requested.

“I’m not privy to every detail of the deal that was made, apparently in order for it to work we have to be kept partially in the dark as if we never knew anything about any of this to begin with. The portion I do know is that Dae-Hyun will continue to work with us and we need to make it seem as if he’s still hanging out with us socially as well. Whether in a group or individually, he needs to be shown as growing closer to us. I’ll open the floor to everyone. Thoughts?”

“I don’t want to be anywhere near him,” Taehyung whispers under his breath and Jungkook can only nod in agreement. He’s unable to force out any words.

“I’m sure it would look most natural if Jiminie started seeing him again, but I don’t think any of us want them alone together,” Jin points out and Yoongi lets out what can only be described as a feral growl.

“Excuse me, I can make my own choices and speak for myself. Uncomfortable as it may be, I can start talking to Dae-Hyun at work again and maybe meeting for coffee in public or something similar. Stopping whoever is trying to bring us down needs to be the priority. We’ve got two couples to protect now,” Jimin interjects.

********

The rest of the group discusses the issue a bit more, with Jimin trying to call Yoongi and getting no answer. Taehyung asks if they’re dismissed and the second Namjoon starts to nod he hightails it back to his room and locks the door. He’s sure everyone else wants to talk more, but he needs to process what just happened.

Someone who meant something to Jimin, who they all went out of their way to befriend, almost ended their entire lives. He can’t decide if it makes him want to cling tightly to Jungkook and savor every second possible in case their demise is on the horizon, or if he wants to run now to spare them the scandal later. He’s never felt so conflicted.

He slides down to the floor, back against the door and head in his hands. He just wishes he could shut off his brain. Jungkook can. He can compartmentalize in a way that amazes Taehyung. He’d give up everything if it meant his mind would never eat him alive again. He’s breathing slowly in the pattern that Yoongi taught him for panic attacks when he hears the soft strains of music coming from the other side of the door. He frowns and wonders where it’s coming from when he hears a familiar voice start to sing.

Lately I've been thinkin', thinkin' 'bout what we had I know it was hard, it was all that we knew, yeah Have you been drinkin' to take all the pain away? I wish that I could give you what you deserve

A lump forms in Taehyung’s throat hearing Jungkook’s soft and sad voice push the lyrics through the door. He can tell that he’s similarly sitting on the floor, the voice on the same level as his head. He presses his ear to the door to listen.

There's nothing like us There's nothing like you and me Together through the storm There's nothing like us There's nothing like you and me together

Taehyung wants nothing more than to open the door and wrap Jungkook in his arms, dry his tears, and tell him everything is going to be okay. He can’t bring himself to reach for the knob, he knows if he gives in now they’ll be in more danger than if they call it quits now. He hasn’t even had the time to process Jungkook lying to him for weeks. He starts to stand up to walk over to his bed and bury himself under the covers when he hears the song come to an end and sees a piece of paper with Jungkook’s handwriting slide underneath his door. He picks it up and the words make his heart stop in his chest.

I love you.

********

Yoongi has dragged Dae-hyun down the hallway to a secluded alcove where no one lived and backed him up against the wall. He’s doing his best to regain his composure, trying to focus on the raw despair in the other man’s eyes, but he can’t stop imagine his lips touching Jimin’s. His lips. His flower. Jimin must have been so scared.

He punches the wall next to Dae-Hyun’s head instead and the man doesn’t even flinch. That’s when it clicks for Yoongi that he understands he’d deserve a beating right now and is willing to take it. He’s a broken shell of a man who was desperate to save his mother’s life. He made all the wrong choices along the way and fell in love. No, he shouldn’t have kissed Jimin and Yoongi doesn’t know if he can ever get past that, but he sees no malice in the man in front of him.

“You really didn’t want to do this to us, did you?”

“No. I was uncomfortable from the start, but would’ve done anything for my mother. Once I realized how amazing you all are, I knew I should never have accepted the job in the first place. I know that you’ll all hate me indefinitely and I deserve that. I don’t deserve the company’s offer to help my mother, but she doesn’t deserve to die because of me either. I’m willing to accept jail time for blackmail if that’s what’s decided. I’ll take whatever punishment is deemed necessary.”

The hard shell around Yoongi cracks just a bit. He’s finding it hard to feel hatred for this man, even if he absolutely feels anger and is fairly sure he’ll never like him again. Maybe this is the growth everyone talks about in regards to his temper. In the past, nothing was ever able to cut through it.

“Alright. Go home for now. We’re all going to talk and we’ll be in touch. I don’t know if I want you with Jimin by yourselves, but we’ll sort it out amongst us.”

“Thank you, Yoongi-hyung. I am at your mercy.”

The man bows low as Yoongi backs up and looks just the tiniest bit lighter. He turns to walk down the hall, but Yoongi calls after him to say one more thing.

“If my relationship with Jimin comes out in any way or Taehyung and Jungkook’s, I won’t be this kind. I will hunt you down and I will make you sorry you messed with my family.”

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