#game that lets you be nice to kids and poor people and tell rich bastards to go fuck themselves...... the ideal
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One thing I really love about Pentiment is that like. For one thing it's very easy to play a very straightforwardly kind, compassionate, sympathetic Andreas who listens to the concerns his friends in Tassing are voicing and tries his hardest to do right by everyone and volunteers to help people a lot. As someone who always worries games are going to force me into making choices I don't want to (or that certain dialogue options will turn out to be harsher than I expected) it's sort of funny that Pentiment, a game that is about forcing you to make difficult choices, at least always let me feel good about Andreas' internal motivations and relationships with others, even when there were sometimes really upsetting consequences in-game.
(And of course, the idea that he's a good person trying his hardest and yet a lot of things go wrong for him and others over the course of the story is one of the things that sends Andreas spiraling, so this is very much something that's woven into the fabric of the game)
But I know on our first playthrough, we chose some of the background options that felt like they specifically lent themselves to that, which lead to playing a very like...polite, bookworm type Andreas. Who I adored as a character obviously, but figured was very specific to our run.
Anyways, I've enjoyed learning that while there are certainly background and dialogue choices that lead to him being brasher/more abrasive and some decisions that cross a bit of a line for me personally (there are a couple suspects I could never accuse, even with solid evidence and I know it's possible to make him a more unsympathetic to the peasants), even some of the more "unsavory" sounding background options really don't lock you into that at all.
I'm specifically thinking about the Rapscallion background because that's what the streaming gang had me choose but I love that the description for it is like "Andreas does CRIME and gets in FIGHTS"
And then in practice a lot of the options it gives you are like
"I'm going to STEAL MONEY from a wealthy abbey to help the NICE PEASANT FAMILY I'm staying with PAY THEIR TAXES!!"
or "I'm going to THREATEN YOU because you are cruelly and unfairly accusing my good friend the SWEET ELDERLY MONK!!"
And when you pair that with certain actions that he takes regardless because they're baked into like the plot or cutscenes, or certain actions he won't take or people he won't agree with because the game never even gives you the option, plus some of the other most popular dialogue choices it's like
Yeah this man does feel a bit like the antithesis of an edgy protagonist
#scribe and i are both the kind of people who will cry if a game makes us be too mean so this is another reason pentiment was made for us#like yeah you can definitely play him as pretty out of touch and even a little bit of a jerk. but he's never going to be too awful a person#that said we definitely played it pretty safe the first runthrough because like many people we were worried about consequences#and now on our second run with more plot knowledge are having a great time mouthing off a lot more to lenhardt and the abbot#game that lets you be nice to kids and poor people and tell rich bastards to go fuck themselves...... the ideal#pentiment tag
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Fanfic:: Hunter and Prey
To be a Mandalorian pirate is to be both hunter and prey. This, Din understood after being taken into their care as a child.
Now he is hunting a Mandalorian artifact to deliver his charge to the aquatic sorcerers in order to teach him how to handle his magic. His quest brings him to a sandy stretch of shore, Mos Pelgo.
Link to AO3
For Day 4 of @dincobbweek aka AU day!
The prophecy as foretold; I have a hyperfixation, therefore I must write a pirate AU. And oh my god, I loved writing this fic so so much.
Huge shout out to @staranon95 for betaing and @ayantiel for providing the needed inspiration to get this thing going!
-=-=-=-
Mayfeld took in a deep breath, letting the salty air fill his lungs. There was a lot riding on today, his reputation, Ran’s reputation, but with the Empire’s finest knelt at his feet, all of their note-worthy possessions, he thought he was doing pretty well.
“No one makes any dumb decisions and you all will get to live,” he called out, voice carrying over the wind so even the poor bastards at the end would be able to hear. “We’re just here for what’s ours and then we’ll leave you be. You’ll never have seen us.”
Xi’an was getting her brother from the prisoners down below and Burg was raiding the captain’s office. Sure, the objective was to get Xi’an’s brother before he made it to the Empire’s colonies, but this was an Imperial vessel. The three of them would have to be stupid not to rob the Imps blind when they had the opportunity. Plus, their informant assured them that not only was this a prisoner’s vessel, it was a transport vessel, moving a map that led to a whole lot of Mandalorian gold.
It was the perfect plan; do a job for Ran, undermine Ran, get filthy rich, and live the rest of their days on an island in the Outer Isles.
And everything was going great, when Burg burst through the captain’s doors, startling everyone on board. Everyone jumped, bar Mayfeld. Burg cut an intimidating figure, a mountain of a man, horns poking through holes he made in his hat so he had to crouch to get into most places. His sudden presence didn’t startle Migs. What was a surprise was the concern on his face.
“Migs! The captain is dead!”
He rolled his eyes. “And? Do you want me to pay you back for the ammo it took to do that?”
“No, he was already dead! And the map’s gone too!”
His blood ran cold. He gave up the act and ran into the room, grabbing onto his hat so it wouldn’t fly away. His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room. He couldn’t tell if there had been a scuffle or it had been Burg who had torn up the room. Drawers were half open, hanging out, papers scattered, a blood-spatter, maybe, but there was so little Migs couldn’t tell if it was recent.
And in the center of it all, the captain, dead in his chair. His body was cool, so Burg wasn’t bluffing in saying someone had shot him before. There had been a lot of commotion when they had first boarded the ship, could the thief have entered then?
“You swear he was like this when you got in?”
Burg nodded.
“And he wasn’t holding a pistol?”
Burg nodded again and the evidence confirmed it. There was only one pistol in the room, halfway across the floor. That didn’t happen when someone tried to off themself for fear of the pirates coming on board.
Migs pushed the body to the floor, getting on his knees to root through the drawers, hoping to find the map, to be able to smack Burg upside the head, but there was nothing. He ripped them out of the desk, holding them upside down and shaking them, but still nothing. Just useless documentation with Imperial seals splayed everywhere.
He slammed the top of the desk as he stood up.
“Did you check everywhere?! Every possible drawer, false drawer, any of that bullshit?”
“Yeah! But it ain’t here!”
Migs pulled off his hat, balling up the rim in fist before throwing it back on.
Ran would tell him not to get greedy. There was an unknown element at play now, so focus on getting Qin out and run. With the group back to what it was before Mando sold them out, they could rob big ships again, but who the fuck cared about that. If Ran knew about the map, he would’ve said to hell with Qin, focus on the pay-out.
Migs stormed out of the quarters and back onto the deck. It was too sunny to see, but that didn’t stop his furious walk back to the line of Imperials on the ship. He grabbed the one in the fanciest looking clothing, who he could only assume was the quartermaster or second mate, and hauled him to his feet by his collar.
The man made a choking sound and face-to-face, looked at Migs with terror.
“Where the fuck is it?”
“Wh-Wh-Wh-?”
“The fucking map! Lost Mandalorian treasure? I need it, and if you don’t, Burg here will make sure you meet those fucking dead ass Mandalorians that hid it in the first place.”
Something must’ve gotten the man brave, because he said, “I thought Mandalorians were extinct, like you pirates are going to be.”
And as if signing his death wish, he spat on the floorboards near his feet.
Well, Migs wanted a nice clean run, but he had a reputation to uphold.
He threw the man back down to the floor and before he could get his arms out from under him, Migs pulled out his flintlock pistol and aimed it at him.
He was a second away from painting the floor with this asshole, when Xi’an ran out from under the deck, her brother trailing behind.
“Captain! It’s Mando!”
That made Migs whip his head up. “Mando? Here?”
She nodded. “We saw him climbing down. Port side, now!”
The four of them raced to the railing, watching as the small craft sped away, faster than any ship could hope to move. She flew familiar colors, the flag of someone who had sold Qin out in the first place.
Migs thought today couldn’t get any worse.
Then the flare went out, bright and brilliant even in the daytime sky. An Imperial flare, that would’ve had to have come from the captain’s quarters, that they wouldn’t have been able to spot in the chaos of the room, that was absolutely going to call every Imperial ship in a hundred miles radius.
Fuck.
Fucker didn’t even have the decency to flip them off as he sailed away.
-=-
Din keeps his eyes low to the ground, brim of his hat pulled low over his head, scarf pulled round his face as he weaves in the crowd. It’s Nevarro, so he knows he blends in with the rest of the criminals that inhabit the port town, but he finds himself more cautious these days.
Especially with the small cargo at his side.
It’s only when he takes a corner into a dark alley, down a set of stairs just off the tavern, into the gloom, does he look at the bag at his side.
As they passed a torch on the wall, the Child looked up at him and beamed, his pointy teeth just coming in, ears unfurling as he lifted the flap.
“You doing ok?”
The child babbled in reply.
“Good, we’ll be there soon.”
For what was basically an underground network for a bunch of criminals, it was surprisingly clean. There were puddles of brackish water that Din stepped around to avoid, along with passing others, but it wasn’t as piss-soaked as Nevarro was up top.
Hiding a whole community under a criminal network didn’t seem like the smartest idea at first, but the thing about criminals is they can either be paid off or disappeared with little problem. As he stepped around a pair of running children, he hoped there would be one day Mandalorians wouldn’t have to hide. He had no idea how that would happen, but no one had ever died on hope.
They finally arrived at their destination, a door on the far side of the hallway. He knocked on the door and opened it when he heard the familiar voice say, “Enter.”
She was already sitting at a table, a bottle of rum in front of her, a candle burning, doing its best to light up the space. Her hat was beside her, feathers drooping so they touched the brim. He made a mental note to pick up more on his next supply run.
He took off his hat as he shut the door behind him, keeping his bandana firmly in place.
“How was your trip?” the Quartermaster asked coolly, picking up the bottle to pour him a drink. It had been years since she had manned a ship, but the title still carries in their community.
He pulled out both the kid and treasure from the bag, setting the kid down on the ground to run around the space before sitting across from her.
“Successful.”
He spread out the map in front of the Quartermaster. He heard those fools talking about Mandalorian gold, and it wasn’t entirely true. It was a map to a compass that would reveal what the holder most desired, which for some might be Mandalorian pirate gold or power or love.
Or the location of the aquatic sorcerers the child needed.
The child wasn’t fully human. He needed to spend a lot of time in water in order to spend time on land, which meant a lot of time spent swimming alongside the Razor Crest. He could also shoot water up out of the ocean, a gift Din was well acquainted with, it being one of the child’s favorite games to play.
Since he had failed to fully deliver the child to the Empire, he had had privateers and other pirates on their tail for months. This map was their last hope to make sure the child got back with his people and then…
And then Din would go back to what he did best; providing for a people now scattered by his actions.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of the Quartermaster’s chair scraping back. She stood up, only to bow over again, her back parallel to the table. She moved her scarf to the side so her lips could ghost over the map as she spoke words of power into the paper.
She stood back up fully as the ink on the map shifted and moved. Waves rolled in place, sea serpents dipped in and out of the surface, all the while the path moved like an eel, slippery and changing, until everything at last was at rest and the ink seeped back into the page.
All three bowed their heads over the map. The starting point of the path was now the tiny cluster of islands of Nevarro and the end point was…
“Tatooine?” he asked out loud. “They’re basically land locked. What would a Mandalorian be doing there?”
Tatooine was a coastal stretch of land, surrounded by jagged rocks and ship-wrecks on one side and impassable mountains on the other, with desert in the valley.
She raised her head, scarf now back in place. “I suspect you’ll find out when you go there.”
He nodded and the child cooed. Din looked over at the child grabbing at the map, hands scratching at the lines like he could pick them back up.
“Come on, little one. We have a long journey ahead of us.”
-=-
Din sailed into Mos Pelgo, following the instructions Peli had given him.
“You have to arrive at low tide, that’s the only way you’ll see all the shit you have to get through. If you haven’t decided to turn tail and leave, you have to keep to the south. If you go north, you’re dead. Last I heard, there’s a pile of sticks they call a dock if you keep going south.”
The dock was a simple thing, as she’d said. Rotten wood, with just one post tall enough to hold the rope to the ship. Din was half tempted to jump straight into the water and swim to shore rather than test the strength of the wood, but resisted the urge with the Child in his bag.
He could see the town in the distance and set off on the beach, letting the Child out to stomp around on the beach.
The town was small, a couple of shacks on stilts for the stormy season. Few people were out, and those that were openly stared at the two of them. Din paid them no mind, one goal in his head.
He walked into the cantina, knowing if there ever was a way to learn about a town, it was going to their cantina first.
And not half a minute of talking with the Weequay bartender, the “Captain” walked in. The man wasn’t a Mandalorian, his face was bare, showing off white hair, sun-freckled pale skin, and a well-trimmed beard. His coat was sturdy, but patched to high heaven, with a bright red scarf around his neck. He wore the compass on his belt like he was flaunting it. It made Din’s blood boil. If Din were a younger man, he would’ve shot him right there for it.
But he tried talking. The compass should be in the hands of a Mandalorian. The Captain swore up and down he had gotten it fairly and therefore it should be his.
“I’ve given you an easy out already. Take it off,” Din said, “Or I will.”
“We gonna do this in front of the kid?”
“He’s seen worse.”
The Captain stood, fingers already itching for the flintlock on his hip, no doubt preloaded like Din’s were. They were interrupted by cries from outside. The Captain holds up a hand before smoothly exiting the cantina. Din follows, but stops in the doorframe to take it all in.
There were several broken fishing boats being led through the rocky shores, dragged onto the sands, people shouting, people carrying others. The Captain was in the middle of it all, shouting orders, trying to bring organization to the chaos.
In the distance, was the unmistakable view of a large tentacle slipping beneath the waves.
Din didn’t want to get in the way of this organized chaos, but then a twi’lek with scarred lekku was shoving bandages into his arms and gesturing over to a house across the way. Din wasn’t going to say no to that.
The house was quieter than outside, only pained whimpers and soft, hushed voices. A collection of wooden splinters already piled beside the bed as the doctor continued to take tweezers to one of the people who came in. Din placed the bandages by their side before stepping back, nearly colliding with the Captain.
He looked at the scene with a pensive expression. Immediately, Din could see that his care for his people went further than words. There was corded energy in those shoulders, anger that wanted to be released at the creature that did this to his people.
The Captain ushered him out of the room.
As they walked back to the cantina, the Captain said, “How about this; you help me with the kraken, I give you back your compass.”
“Deal.”
-=-
The Captain led him past the edge of town to the cliff’s edge. On the journey he told his name was Cobb Vanth; Din held off on his own introduction.
“None of us are much for traveling,” Cobb said, “but the kraken planted itself right where we normally fish. Even when I send people to fish in a different spot, the damn thing follows after. We’ll be starved out sooner rather than later.”
They crested over the hill and the expanse of ocean fell before them. The kraken was visible from the cliffs, a dark mark under the waters, swimming languidly around the coast.
Din did a mental inventory of what he had on the Razor Crest; a handful of spears, a harpoon, some rope. Cobb had shown him the town’s stores before they left. It wasn’t going to be enough.
He stepped back from the ledge, back where Cobb is. “Is there a Tusken encampment nearby?”
Cobb raised an eyebrow. “The Tuskens? But they’re-”
“They know the coast and water better than anyone. We can’t kill it with just the two of us.”
“If they know the area then won’t they want to… I don’t know, not kill it?”
“Then, we’ll just have to ask.”
“Ask? You don’t ask a Tusken anything.”
He could, in fact, ask a Tusken for things. Din was thankful for the cloth in front of his face, masking most of his pride as he watched Cobb’s jaw drop as he asked the Tuskens for their help. It turned out, they did want help in defeating the kraken. Its sudden appearance had also affected their fishing.
They had to travel further to where the kraken had made his home. Din stayed in the back with Cobb, where he seemed more comfortable.
Cobb also apparently liked to talk when he’s nervous.
“So, you spend your days on the ocean? All the time?”
“Mhm. Do you spend all your days on land?”
“Mostly. I used to be on a ship, but not like you. I was a galley slave on an Imperial ship, but before then I had dreams of being as free as you, traveling the waters on a boat with a crew of my own.” His face fell. “Haven’t thought about that dream… for a while.”
To have something that should have meant freedom be taken away from you, Din couldn’t imagine.
“But you escaped?”
“Kriff, yes. Raised a mutiny, sunk those fuckers to the bottom of the sea. I found the compass in the captain’s drawers and it pointed us here. Few more people joined, some left, but it’s as home as we can get.”
Din could only nod. He found himself surprised with the thought that he was glad that Cobb got the compass. He had no idea what the Empire was doing with a Mandalorian artifact, but it was definitely put to better use finding people a home.
They made camp up in the dunes. Din had to waste a bullet, firing into the air to disrupt the startings of a fight between Cobb and the Tuskens. Planning was slightly easier after that.
He took off his coat, bundling it up into a nest for the child to sit in. He rolled up his sleeves to free up his arms as he continued translating. He noticed Cobb looking at the tattoos that traveled up his arms. He doesn’t comment on it.
-=-
Small boats littered the coastline the next day. The plan was for people from both the Tusken band and Mos Pelgo would distract the kraken long enough for a boat of explosives to be set up and ignited close enough to kill it but not the people.
It doesn’t go great.
There were enough boats in the water to pick up people who capsized in the wake of the monster’s waves, the thing lashing out as folks took pot shots with pistols and arrows. They managed to set the boat laden with explosives off in its direction, but when the time came to ignite, the explosion happened, but it just managed to scratch the beast.
Din reached for the harpoons he brought as backup. He and Cobb try firing at the kraken, but they skim off its skin.
The Tuskens were still firing their weapons at the creature. Mos Pelgans took turns firing guns and reloading in turn. All it did was keep the creature at bay, which wouldn’t last long at all. He needed to think of something to kill the creature or everyone here would die.
He furtively scanned around the deck for something, anything. His gaze landed on the extra explosives they had kept on hand. The monster’s skin was too thick for the explosions to take but elsewhere…
Din doesn’t think, he just moves. He grabbed as many sticks of dynamite as he could, stuffing them in the pockets of his coat. There was a coil of rope tied off to the railing, which he took and wrapped around his waist. Even after years of living on ships, his hands shook as he tried to tie it. Suddenly, Cobb was in front of him, taking the rope from his hands and tying it tight around his midsection.
He pulled it hard, once, twice, and it wasn’t going anywhere.
“What are you gonna do?” Cobb asked.
“I’m not sure,” Din said, pulling the rope tighter around his waist.
“Then what should I do?”
Din looked at him, really looked at this man who was willing to do so much for his community in light of so much hardship in his own life. He looked back at the dark shape in the water racing for their boats
He took off his hat and tossed it at Cobb. “Take care of the Child.”
And before Cobb could do anything beyond catch the hat, Din leaped off the side of the ship. He couldn’t tell if Cobb shouted anything after him as the kraken burst from the water. He forced himself to keep his eyes open as he fell straight into the kraken’s maw.
-=-
It was nothing but darkness inside the beast. Even with the scarf over his nose, the scent of salt water and death was everywhere. He dug himself in the mouth of the beast, boots scraping against bony protuberances in the things throat. He emptied his pockets as fast as he could while holding on for dear life as the monster bucked and screamed.
He hoped the kraken was out of range of the boat.
When he was left with one explosive left, he fished around in his pockets for his matchbook. He struck the match and lit the explosive before chucking it down with all the others like it.
He turned and clawed at the kraken’s beak, heart pounding in his chest. If he doesn’t get out of here before the explosion goes off-
Suddenly, a roaring filled his ears and a mass of hot air flung him out of the monster. His scarf twists around his head and he can’t see anything as he flails. He landed hard in the water and then it was silent as the dark water pulled him down.
He wasn’t sure how long he drifted. The shock of cold water and the heaviness of his coat made movement impossible.
He didn’t regret asking Cobb to take care of the child, he’d be in good hands.
Something wrapped around his waist and pulled. Din tried to resist, not sure if he was being dragged toward air or to his death, but his arms were useless, heavy and leaden. He had no strength and so he let it happen.
And then they broke through the surface of the water, a cool wind icing his skin instantly. He took a shuddering breath and nearly choked on water and his sopping wet scarf. Hands came up and pulled the scarf off his face. He coughed, chest shuddering with each intake of breath. He realized he’s being held, arms around his waist, and it isn’t until he can take a full breath did he finally bother to wipe salt water from his eyes and look at who was holding him.
It was Cobb. His hat and coat were off, red shirt darkened to maroon with all the water. He was searching his face for… something.
Din took a breath, resisting the urge to cough again. “I thought I said- you need to take care of the kid!”
“I am!” Cobb said, holding his head up to avoid a passing wave. “By making sure his daddy lives!”
Cobb maneuvers his arms so he’s gripping a floating piece of rowboat. It’s thankfully big enough that when Din leans his whole weight on it, he doesn’t sink back into the ocean.
“Everyone okay?”
Cobb gave him a look that Din thinks means he’s stupid. “Yes, thanks to you, partner.”
They only have to tread water for a couple of minutes before a rowboat headed by the twi’lek Issa-Or arrives. Cobb makes sure Din is pulled aboard before climbing in himself.
-=-
They stayed the night. Din isn’t in any position to argue with Cobb’s hospitality. He didn’t think he’d be able to turn the wheel on the Razor Crest let alone sail it out of harbor.
Cobb opened his house to them. It was a small abode, raised off the ground like the others. Its small size made it even more obvious the telescope and sextant were on display on the only table in the main room.
Din wanted to pass out then and there, but Cobb firmly set him in one of the wooden chairs before disappearing behind the one door in the house. He returned with a roll of bandages and water. He thought it was to drink, until Cobb started peeling back the wet layers of Din’s clothes to reveal burns and scratches he hadn’t even felt. Cobb dips a rag into the freshwater, rinsing out the salt and detritus from the wounds.
He worked in silence, both too exhausted from the day to say much. They could hear the sounds of the party outside, Tusken and Mos Pelgan alike celebrating the death of the beast.
A drunken group walked past and the two of them can hear the butchered shanty they sing. They glanced to the window then to each other, sharing hidden smiles.
All patched up, Cobb gave him the bed and set something up for the child. Din knew he should be aware of his host, should know where his host himself is sleeping the night, but he couldn’t bring himself to care with exhaustion tugging him into the bed.
Voices from the other room kept him up, cracking one eye open to focus on the now familiar drawl.
“You know, in the past few days, whenever I looked at the compass for a sign of how to kill the kraken, it always pointed out to sea. I didn’t know what that meant, if I had to go sailing for a kraken expert or find a sunken treasure that would kill the kraken. I don’t know, I was getting desperate. But now… I’m thinking it might’ve been pointing to your dad.”
He heard the child’s burbles of delight and finally, finally, he slid into unconsciousness.
-=-
Din woke up to the sun shining in his eyes, light reflecting off the compass placed on the pillow that wasn’t there last night. Any lingering drowsiness left him when he realized what it is.
The Mandalorian compass.
He grabbed it and opened it up, thinking about Grogu and the teacher he needed. The arrow spun around, until stopping, hovering at a point out back toward the ocean.
A heading. He had a heading.
He fell back into the bed, just staring at the compass. It was embedded in a box made of dark wood, carvings all around the edges, Mando’a script, if he had to guess. It’s incomprehensible, chipped to the point of being illegible.
Something in the bed crinkled as he shifted. He turned and searched for the source and founda scrap of paper. It took a moment for him to parse, but it was just Cobb letting him know he had business to attend to and he would be back when Din left.
Right... they had to leave this town to continue their quest.
He reminded himself of that as he went out to find the child. The house sounded suspiciously quiet for all the mischief the child got into.
-=-
They got their affairs in order quicker than expected. Some people had spent the night alongside the Tuskens preparing the kraken meat to distribute to the rest of the town – and Din, apparently.
It seemed like the whole town had come out to see them off. They apparently had held off giving their thanks until they knew he was conscious. Din looked over the grateful townspeople’s heads to see Issa talking intently with Cobb. When Cobb glanced over his way, he ducked his head back down.
Normally he would sneak out of this kind of attention, but the kid was eating it up, beaming like he was the one who took down the beast, so Din went down the line, nodding respectfully at every given comment.
By the time he got to the end of the line, he was already ready to take a nap, but he raised a hand to bid them all good-bye and turned to walk out of town.
“Mando!”
Din turned around to see Cobb running after him, heel kicking up sand.
He stops in front of him. “Do you- do you need help on your quest?”
“Are you offering? Thought you had a town to look after.”
He scratched the back of his neck. “Well, the kraken was our biggest threat, and with the peace brokered with the Tuskens, there’s not much for me here.”
Din tried to tamp down his excitement, not believing what he was hearing. “You still have your sea legs?”
“Long as you don’t lock me up below deck, I should get them just fine.”
“I’d never,” he said quickly.
Cobb smiled. “Well then, permission to come aboard?”
Din hoped Cobb could tell he was smiling behind the bandana. “Granted.”
-=-
As they sailed out of port, Din kept glancing at Cobb, who was fidgeting up a storm. He kept tapping his fingers against the railing, glancing out at the disappearing coastline.
Finally, after even the Child was tapping on his pant leg to point out Cobb’s unease for him, he hatched a plan. He affixed the wheel so it wouldn’t turn on its own. Then he went about setting the sails and ropes for the same task, keeping them on course while Din took care of Cobb.
“We can still head back if you want to,” he said as he approached the other man.
Cobb turned over his shoulder. “No, I’m not having second thoughts. I’ve… My friends know I’m not exactly made for land.”
“Oh?”
Cobb flipped his scarf up to wipe at his head. “Before we made landfall at Mos Pelgo, we took out a few Imperial ports. Small things that we only noticed because of the ships with galley slaves, but… I ain’t felt that alive in a while.”
Din fished the compass out from his pocket, flicking it open. The arrow spun lazily, pointing back to Cobb for a second before spinning around in the direction they were sailing, the same direction it had pointed when he thought about what Grogu needed.
He snapped it shut, coming up to stand beside Cobb.
“I’m sure we’ll run into something along the way. Here, I’ve got something to show you.”
Cobb raised an eyebrow. “Alright, I’ll bite. What is it?”
Din bit his lip, glad for the bandana. “Do you trust me?”
Cobb chuckled. “I would have to be an idiot to sail out to who knows where with a man I didn’t trust.”
Din nodded. “Then let it be a surprise.”
Cobb acquiesced, letting himself be led to the middle of the deck. When they were under the main mast, Din grabbed the main line in one hand, pulling Cobb close with the other. He ignored how his cheeks flushed with the sudden closeness.
“Hold on tight,” he said.
“Wha-?” That’s all Cobb got out before Din flicked the switch with his foot and the two of them went rocketing up toward the crow’s nest. Cobb’s arms circled around him like a vice, his shouts lost in the wind.
Din made sure Cobb got in the basket before he did, especially when he realized his eyes were shut.
“Cobb, open your eyes.”
Cobb cracked one eye open and then both flew open as he realized what he was seeing. Glittering blue ocean, as far as the eye could see. There were two dots in the far distance, ships of some sort.
There was no better way to experience the vastness of it all, than looking at it from above.
He glanced at Cobb and saw his eyes tearing up a bit.
He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, letting Cobb take it all in. This was what being on the ocean was supposed to mean, freedom and possibility, beauty and wonder. Din didn’t expect to do much in laying a balm over Cobb’s past, but he hoped he could communicate with this view that he wanted to help when he could.
Cobb turned to face him and Din knew he understood.
“Thank you, Mando.”
“Din, my name is Din Djarin.”
“Then thank you, Din.” And to his surprise, he leaned over and kissed him just above where the scarf covered his face.
Neither of them acknowledged it, except for an exchange of eye contact. Neither could contain the mirth in the crinkles of their eyes.
“We should start plotting a course, shouldn’t we, Captain?” Cobb asked.
“Yes, Captain.”
#dincobbweek2021#dincobb#marshmando#cobbdin#dincobbweek#pirate aus my beloved#cant get enough of them#so many times i was like 'oh shit that translates so well into pirate au!!!'#it was just a joy to write#as you can probably tell by how fucking long it is#esp compared to the other fics of sensible lengths for this week#kappa talks#my fanfic
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Aunt Alicia Didn’t Prevent The Apocalypse
Hello, @phandom-phriend! Here’s your Christmas Truce gift! I hope you like it :3
Word Count: 2680
Summary: When there is an explosion at the Nasty Burger, killing almost her entire family, Aunt Alicia handles it.
It took a good week for Alicia to hear the news. It took only one more for her bags to be packed, the plans laid out, and her trusty lawyer to be prepared for a call just in case. Then she was in Amity Park, for the first time in years and years, only it was not for any good reason.
The first thing she did after checking into her hotel had been to drive herself to the funeral.
There were so few people in attendance, it was… Stunning, to say the least. But Alicia hadn't known her sister to have many friends, and Jack even less… regardless she thought at least a few would arrive. Maybe even some family, from Jack's side of course. And the little she had talked to her nephew during the arrangement, made it seem he knew people that she hadn't, and that Jazz would have some people coming for her side of things.
There was practically no one. No one there to comfort her nephew while she hadn't been there for him, no one to make sure he wasn't blaming himself for it all. Hell. His entire support network had been wiped out in one go. He needed people who cared. Who would share in his grief.
Alicia was too busy during the service to do any of the comforting. She doubted she even could. She lacked the gentle touch her sister had learned when dealing with children, and she was a mite too rough to handle a kid who witnessed the death this one had.
Poor kid.
After the service, she made an attempt to talk to him about the custody matter. She doubted the courts would allow it, given her record, but she did want to keep an eye on him. She doubted he'd be happy in the woods she loved, but she'd be willing to move wherever he wanted within reason. She had the money. You marry a businessman, you get money. If you live off your own land, you get to keep it. She could afford whatever Danny needed, if he asked.
She knew of a godfather existing. The dick hadn't shown up to the funeral, but she knew he existed. She was told he lived in Wisconsin, was a high n’ mighty CEO of multiple corporations. A single rich billionaire who lived in a mansion no one visited, who was more likely than not gonna be a terrible influence on a hurt kid. But he'd have more of a legal claim on Danny than her.
She'd already lost a child, the courts were not likely to give her another. Even if she promised to move out from the woods.
But Danny's choice was all that mattered for her. If he wanted her to, she'd fight tooth and nail for him. She'd tear the world apart to help the last remaining family she had left, if he wanted her to.
Alicia was not good at affection. She was not good at showing she cared. She was stubborn, aggressive, and she'd been hurt in her life. She was not the person Danny needed, who would be endlessly understanding and gentle. She was one of the only options he had.
So after the service was over she asked him. Did he want to live with her, wherever he wanted to go, or did he want to go with his godfather. Originally he had been confused. He had a godfather? He had a choice? She explained what she knew, and he only seemed to grow more confused. Said he'd met the man, but hadn't known he was his godfather. Said he'd have to think on it more.
Alicia knew it meant he wouldn't pick her. It wasn’t a surprise when she was proven right. (She was practically a stranger, to Danny. The few times they’d interacted she was sure didn’t leave any semblance of a good impression.)
The legal processes after a death were lengthy, at least when Alicia had to work with Masters. After the courts had said he'd get custody of Danny, he had "helpfully" decided to put his nose in the work Alicia was doing for the inheritance. Not that it was all too confusing for her to handle; everything was being left to Danny, if she had anything to say about it. One would think the man who'd be caring for the child would agree, but you'd be surprised.
In addition, any time she wished to talk to her nephew she'd first have to undergo a sort of interrogation from Masters, about what she wanted to see her nephew for, or she was simply turned away from the door without another word. She had never seen the Fenton house so dark, and empty, and cold, as she had the month after their deaths. She couldn't imagine any reason Danny would want to stay cooped up in there, especially not on his own, but Masters kept her out and she had no standing if she decided she didn't like being kept out like she was.
So if she wanted to ask if Danny wanted any of his inheritance readily accessible, or what if anything he wanted sold, or if he wanted the FentonWorks business to be given to Masters or if he wanted to shut it down, any of that sort of stuff was impossible for her to get answers for. Masters thought he could try to play a game of telephone with her, telling her what Danny wanted for Danny, often without asking, but Masters was a stupid bastard if he thought she'd let a businessman speak for her nephew.
So between attempts to contact Danny before he moved to Wisconsin with Masters, Alicia instead focused on her own personal project.
After learning the parents of Danny's late friends we're not planning on letting him attend their funerals, because the bastards blamed him for the deaths that day like immature pricks, Alicia had worked out a deal to allow him to attend without being harassed. If he wanted to, anyhow. That was another thing Alicia had yet to ask him. But giving him the choice was important to her. So she had agreed to the deal.
She was going to foot the bill for a statue the Manson's had planned, to honor their dead daughter, and the Foley's were going to have their son part of the statue as well.
Of course, if they were getting their statue of their losses, Alicia was going to get a statue of hers. (She was not going to lie and say that adding the Fentons to the statue was one of the things she was doing for Danny. She was doing her best to make this loss easy on him, but she knew a lot of her best was neglecting her own grief. If she was going to be forced to commission a damn statue for his sake, she might as well kill two birds with one stone by adding in elements for her sake. The funerals were going to happen before even the statues pedestals were done, let alone the statues themselves, so if the assholes who blamed her nephew didn't like it they'd be too late to do anything about it.)
So the project was the oversight of the clearing of the Nasty Burger explosion site, and the construction of the pedestal and base for the statues. Thanks to the richer Manson folk, and even Masters after Alicia told the bastard what she was doing the thing for, the statue's plans and location had been legally settled right in time for construction to begin.
The first few days of it were normal. Just Alicia, the hired construction men, and the occasional terrible reminder of what they were cleaning up as a chunk of metal covered in dried brown markings passed by her eyes and was tossed into the dump truck.
It was the eighth day, she thinks, when she started seeing the ghost.
The ghost was familiar. She had chatted with Maddie about a ghost matching this one's description, the last anniversary of Alicia's divorce, between moments of frustration as she tried to tell her sister that leaving a man too stupid for her was a positive. (Alicia. Regretted, that. Not that Alicia was a woman who regretted many things, but. Her last memories of her sister were of getting a nice divorce anniversary party, after being what many would describe as an ass simply because Maddie loved her husband more than he was stupid. Not everything that works for Alicia works for others. Hadn't Maddie said that? At least something like it, surely.)
Snowy white hair. Black suit. Green eyes, but she couldn't say they were glowing. If they had at one point, they didn't now. Looking incredibly familiar, a face she was reluctant to place because she didn't know what it could mean. But matching Maddie's description anyways.
He sat, just far enough away from the site that he was out of the way, but close enough that Alicia could see the tremors wracking his body, and the slight shine on his cheeks.
Ghost or no, that was first and foremost a kid. A kid who looked mighty like another kid Alicia knew. And even if the familiarity was only surface level and coincidental, she could use the practice. Practice comforting someone, she meant. But it took a few more days of the ghost appearing for her to actually approach, as caution overruled empathy.
"You look a mite troubled, there." She said, hands in her pocket as she approached the figure. It didn't move, hardly acknowledging her. Perhaps it didn't think she was talking to it. "I'd ask what's wrong, but I reckon I already could guess." She crouched down, reaching out to touch the specter on the shoulder, but it was quick to scoot itself out of reach, though she took that to mean that now it acknowledged her. Good. A start.
"Wh-?" It stopped before it could really start talking back. Alicia took that as her queue to keep going.
"My apologies. Jus' saw a kid needin' help, but I can leave you be if you really want." She said, and the ghost started to shake it's head vigorously. "Then I'll be glad t' listen to your troubles, kiddo."
"Um, but why?" It said. "I'm not a kid. I'm a ghost."
"You sure don't look a day over twelve, ghost or no." Alicia pretended not to find the responding scowl humorous. Just another small thing, proof it was just a child.
"I'm fourteen." The ghost said. Alicia held back her response. This ghost really was familiar, wasn't it.
"Well, then. Fourteen. Certainly, much much older." Alicia snorted, shaking her head. "No, no, I wasn't here to rag on ya. What's the matter? I doubt your eyes we're shinin' cause the cleanup is so beautiful." The ghost, who had for a moment been distracted from the sight, immediately turned back to it, and a very dreary expression bloomed on its face.
"'s my fault." The ghost mumbled, almost so quiet Alicia didn't hear. It pulled its tail up to its chest and wrapped its arms around it, resting its chin on them. Not once losing sight of the remains of the Nasty Burger.
"Now I really doubt that." A week in the town had told Alicia that the Phantom ghostie Maddie so despised was revered as the town hero. While Alicia was of the opinion that most city folk were brainless sheep, she had never bought the idea Maddie got from Jack that all ghosts and similar sort were evil. If they were, then that meant all people were evil, because ghosts came from the dead. Alicia was pessimistic at the baseline, but she'd got nothing but kindness from the neighbors when the worst had happened to her and everyone else was blaming her for it. She couldn't believe they'd turn out any different had they died. So believing this ghost could be a town hero was nothing of a stretch.
"I did, though." The ghost whined, a sound bordering on animalistic, a clear distress call. Alicia wondered if another ghost would come to answer. "I had a fight, here, days before the explosion. I was the one who damaged the vat, and caused it. I even-" The words broke off into another whine, louder and sadder than before. Tears ran down the ghosts face, tinted green and glowing.
"Now you couldn't have known what would happen." Alicia said, but the ghost didn't react. "And I bet it wasn't a fight you started." The ghost still didn't respond. "Honestly, you and my nephew. Kids always blame themselves for things out of their control." She sighed, shaking her head. This got a reaction out of the ghost, a small flinch, that if Alicia hadn't been paying close attention to and trying to see she would have missed.
"Danny’s a good kid. I don't know why he blames himself, but I know it wasn't his fault. I may not know you, but I feel it's the same for you." Alicia said, and she paused. Would it be bad to continue? The ghost was only looking more and more upset, especially now that she mentioned her nephew.
"It's not the same for me." The ghost eventually said, after a minute of indecision. "If it's not… not your nephews fault, then it has to be mine." The ghost said.
Alicia frowned. That was a stupid way to reason this. There was no one at fault for this, except maybe the people who decided a Nasty Burger must be prepped to self destruct at any moment.
She would have said so, too, if the ghost hadn't've disappeared as soon as her mouth opened.
After that, the ghost kept appearing. To watch the clearing process, and to watch Alicia. But any time she'd try to get close to talk to the other again, it'd disappear. It was a touch frustrating, but nothing to be done. She wasn't gonna go chasing ghosties. That was never and will never be her place.
She was generally spending less time at the site after that, too, which was another factor in not talking to the ghost any more. Danny had finally started to answer the door instead of Masters, and Alicia was better able to talk to him. While he started to avoid questions any time it got around to how he was feeling, he didn't seem too off. Or, not really any more off than he would be after what happened.
He attended his friends' funerals, and said that no one gave him a hard time. He worked out what he wanted to keep, and what he wanted to get rid of. He wanted to keep the building, and keep FentonWorks. Masters would keep track of it until Danny was older, of course, but Alicia was fine with Danny's decision.
He came with her only once to watch the site clearing, to watch the last batch of shrapnel and debris be hauled away, leaving only the broken shell and sign of the old building. When Alicia explained that they weren't planning on rebuilding at the moment, Danny didn't seem to care. After that it was time for him to leave, to meet Masters at his new home.
Masters had left a week before, looking troubled, but putting on a show of ease when Alicia approached to ask why he was leaving Danny behind. He had a lot to prepare, was his excuse. Bullshit. But Danny had been fine with it. Said he even asked the man to. So Alicia, though it made her unhappy a great deal, left it alone.
Alicia took one last month in Amity to settle affairs, to see the completion of the statue, and to rest flowers at each of her family's graves (yes, even Jacks). The time during which she didn't see the ghost again, to her disappointment.
Then she left and went back to her home in Spittoon, Arkansas. Alone.
#dp holiday truce#dp christmas truce 2020#holiday truce 2020#Danny Phantom#dp christmas truce#Aunt Alicia#i really didn't know what to do for this but i hope you like it!#the background character perspective prompt of yours is sort of what inspired this?#this is the second attempt#i had a whole other thing halfway written and then i had this idea and decided to scrap it#mostly because the last idea i had was really really bad#but like it might have fit the prompt better?#anyways thats all nonsense haha#hope you had a nice holiday and hope youll have a happy new year!
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The Lies I Tell Myself - Chapter 4
The plane ride was short but too much turbulence if anyone wanted Minho’s true opinion. Also the landing was terrible…
Bad flying or not, Thomas slept through it all, hair fluffed up cutely as he leaned on his side. Unknown to him, Minho at some point lifted the armrest between their seats, so Thomas ended up curled against Minho instead.
Seeing more than one person smiling as they passed them, had him soak up the misunderstanding since an actual relationship with Thomas would probably never happen. It was good to know however, that they were convincible enough to pass as a couple.
Minho understood where they were coming from though. Thomas hardly slept these days between homework and his family meeting Minho—so Thomas being adorable and snuggling in to get comfortable?
God help him, he had it bad.
—
“Ugh, how could you not tell me they were passing snacks, huh?”
“Shut your whining and grab the baggage would you?” Minho suppressed an eye-roll. “When we get to the hotel, I’ll call room service, okay?”
“Is that allowed?” Thomas asked as they followed signs for the exit.
“Yeah it’s all paid for. The to-be-family rich or something?”
“Hefty trust fund,” Thomas muttered unhappily. “It was a requirement for her,”
“Oh. Wow.”
“Yeah, I know right?”
“No, I mean the car they sent to pick us up,” Minho pointed to the BMW with Thomas’ name on the plaque their driver was holding. “You sure she dislikes you?”
“She’s bragging.” Thomas insisted. “I’m only here because mom wanted me to be remember? Uhh…what are you doing?”
“Surely you know the concept of opening a door for someone else?” Minho couldn’t suppress the eye roll this time and gently pushed Thomas in when he just stood by it. As the driver started the car, he leaned in to peck Thomas softly on the cheek and thread his fingers through Thomas’.
He pretended not to notice his fake boyfriend’s face turn tomato-red.
—
“Not bad…” Thomas walked into their suite. “He must be really rich or something, if everyone’s rooms look like this…” When he turned to Minho, he was greeted with an annoyed look. “What??”
“You’re being ridiculous. She took sides sure but maybe, dunno maybe she’s trying to buy your love? Rich or no, only visiting family would get this royal treatment,”
“Maybe the fiancée suggested it?” Thomas offered.
“Quite possibly,” Minho smiled and weirdly that made Thomas relax, but there sure didn’t last, “Looks like we’ll have to order room service when we get back. I’ve laid out your clothes here by the way…”
Thomas grabbed the clothes and dashed to the washroom to change into his blazer outfit. He was acting like an idiot right now, but he would act 100% more idiotic if he had to watch Minho change.
By the time he was done, Minho was ready. Was there anything he didn’t look good in? Minho gave him a quick once over, “You look exactly like I thought you would,” he smirked.
“Fuckable?” Thomas blushed.
“Decent, clean and polite more like,” his flatmate approached him, casually fixing Thomas’ hair and he let it go on until he grew suspicious that Minho was teasing him now.
“If you want to touch me so much, you don’t have to only do it here remember? I’m your boyfriend. Or even…we don’t have to go to the brunch right? We can just stay in and get room service...”
“Now what kind of boyfriend would I be if I gave into all your demands?”
Thomas turned to him, “A good one!”
“You’re lucky you’re white and cute, Thomas.”
“Hey!”
“I’m kidding, you’re precious,” Minho pecked Thomas on his lips sweetly and turned around before he realized what he just did. Composing his face, Minho turned back around to Thomas staring at him wide eyed.
“Test run?” Thomas offered timidly.
Minho took it with both hands and ran with it. “Already feels natural doesn’t it?”
“Yeah,”
“Yeah.” Minho echoed. Shit.
“You look too fuckable for a welcome brunch,” Thomas swiftly changed subjects to a moderately safer one.
“Devour-a-ble would you say?” Minho’s sass was back.
“You’re lucky you’re hot! Because your jokes are seriously terrible.” Thomas eyed Minho’s lips, debated giving him a peck to continue the joke but he wasn’t that brave.
Or rather he was afraid he might not stop. “Which reminds me,” he said out loud, “brunch is tame. Maybe hold hands but no kissing?”
“Why? Forgot your lessons already? You want a refresher?” Minho teased.
“Unfortunately we don’t have the time…” Thomas sighed, “That would have been wayy more fun than having to see Teresa and the poor bastard marrying her. I don’t know if I should congratulate him or apologize,”
“Would kissing you shut you up?”
“Try it,” the words were out of his mouth before he even registered it. Minho had a calculative look in his eyes but turned away in the end, mumbling something about a watch.
Thomas mentally facepalmed.
—
Minho really did look devour-able and Thomas should have protested the outfit when he had the chance.
He couldn’t hide his smugness though, when as soon as he stepped out the car, Minho held his hand as they walked into the back gate of the venue, decorated in soft hues.
“So what’s the game plan?”
“Umm let’s see…Say hi to Teresa, make sure my mom does not talk to you, and get out right after we eat?”
“Wow Thomas. I didn’t know you were so keen on the promise of room service? Don’t know if they have flight snacks on the menu,” Minho laughed as Thomas pushed him away playfully. “And why keep me away from your mom? I’m great with people!”
“I know,” Thomas grumbled, threading his fingers with Minho’s absently. “That’s the problem. Everyone you meet manages to fall in love with you. My mom can’t fall victim to you too.”
“You’re making me sound like a serial killer,” Minho joked, “You fell victim too then?”
“I’m your boyfriend aren’t I?” Thomas rolled his eyes. They were still a little away from the crowd of guests.
Technically they didn’t have to put on their act yet, so when Minho paused for that millisecond, Thomas realized what he’d said. For once, he did a great job at convincingly pretending obliviousness.
—
People were looking at them. A lot. Thomas starting to feel self-conscious, leaned closer to Minho and gripped his hand tighter.
Though it didn’t show on his face, Minho bent down to whisper in Thomas’s ear, sounding worried, “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” Thomas admitted softly.
Minho tilted his head up slightly caressing his cheek. “I’m here. I won’t leave you,” He had no idea how much those words meant to Thomas, the significance of them, the difference it made. He relaxed...he was safe.
Minho threaded their fingers once more and Thomas walked in with more confidence, pointing to people he knew and titbits about them.
But the one person he didn’t get an opportunity to point out, was suddenly in front of him. Thomas’ smile slipped and Minho picked on it immediately.
“Thomas.” Gally completely ignored Minho and something about that irked him but he’d be cordial.
“Gally.”
“You know when I heard you were bringing a boyfriend, I was a little disappointed. I thought we could mend things, you know? But knowing you...you move fast don’t you?”
Thomas saw the malicious glint in his eye, before he turned to Minho, “be careful about this one..the next pretty thing and he’s gone,”
“Is that so?” Minho replied mildly. “And who are you? Thomas never mentioned you. Friends of the groom? Speaking of..I’d like to meet him. Do you know where we can find him?”
“Uhh..”
Gally was thrown off and Thomas suppressed his smile. Minho could definitely be intimidating on first meet. He exuded confidence and admittedly Thomas had a different reaction to most, but it was there alright!
“Hm. I guess we can find him ourselves..Gully is it? Nice to meet you Gully,” he smiled, then turned to Thomas.
—
‘Wait here, don’t talk to anybody’ was what Thomas had said, but seriously it wasn’t his fault that there were only two other asians apart from him, and both were from the Groom’s party.
Minho wasn’t even sure why Thomas had abandoned him and didn’t have much time to ponder before he was joined by a boy with curly brown hair and a perfectly round face.
“Hi there,” he frowned, “I don’t know you. Bride or Groom’s side?”
Minho was a bit taken aback by the directness at first, but shrugged, “Boyfriend of Bride’s side I suppose,”
“You suppose? And who is this boyfriend of yours?”
“Thomas Editton,” Minho smiled cheerfully. “I’m Minho by the way,”
“Chuck. So Thomas?”
“Yeah, he’s an awkward yet surprisingly charming individual.”
The boy was downright frowning now.“I don’t know about the charming part…”
“Oh so you know him?” Minho whispered conspiratorially. “We kind of started dating by the second week of college, so any embarrassing stories you can spare? He has so much ammo on me because my friends insist on sharing every fail in my life, and I sort of need some, see?”
“I see,” The chubby boy seemed to be warming up to him and Minho looked into his soft brown eyes, feeling a famil—oh shit. Of all the people to spot him first, it had to be one of Thomas’ relatives.
“Well he has a terrible sense of fashion?”
“Oh boy am I well aware,” Minho looked around for his ‘boyfriend’ and seemed to spot Thomas the same time he did Minho. A quick look at Minho’s current talking companion and Thomas’ shoulders relaxed.
“What was that about?”
“Wants me suppressing my serial killer instincts,” Minho said without thinking.
“An inside joke I assume?”
“An inside one, yeah,” Minho laughed, but his eyes softened as he watched Thomas make his way towards them. “He’s something special that one…”
Chuck eyed Minho, “You really do know him, huh?” Minho pursed his lips, not sure what to say. “Well, as disaapointed I was at Thomas keeping you a secret for so long, I’m happy for you guys. Just be patient with him, okay?”
“Every day’s a struggle,” Minho joked, but Chuck didn’t seem to be teasing, so he quietened down.
“Thomas..he’s been through a lot, see. Teresa never believed him which is why that stain is here,” Chuck muttered darkly, “I guess I don’t have to tell you, cause you already know about the cheating and blaming and the..that.”
Apparently it was so bad, Chuck didn’t even want to say the word. From the titbits of what Thomas shared and his jumpiness, Minho gathered Gally must have been abusive in some way. He felt terrible for all the times he’d been impatient with Thomas’ intimacy issues.
“Honestly I didn’t think Thomas would ever get over it. I didn’t think he’d be able to trust anyone so soon…So thank you,” Chuck smiled softly. Minho didn’t know what to say so he just smiled back.
Minho stayed chatting with Chuck until a middle-aged woman joined them. Minho didn’t know what to make of this, but the look on Chuck’s face made him suspicious.
“You must be Minho I suppose. So what’s your major again?”
Minho was a bit taken aback by the swift jump in topic but he replied, “Yes, ma’am. I’m majoring in Kinesiology, specifically sports related. I’m…a part of the Varsity Track team but also taking a Minor in Art History,”
“Must be a struggle to balance so many things at once. College. Parties.” Okay definitely some scrutinizing happening.
“It was a challenge at first, yes. A lot of trial and error,” Minho smiled sheepishly, “but Thomas has been a huge part of why I found my balance…”
“Interesting…” the woman hummed and before she could get another word out, Thomas appeared it seemed out of nowhere.
“Mother!”
Minho froze. Oh shit. Luckily Mrs. Editton and Chuck were now focusing on Thomas, so he had a moment to adjust his expression.
“I-I guess you’ve met Minho then,”
“Seeing as you were going to take forever to do so, I thought to take the initiative,” she smiled. Minho couldn’t decipher if it was said in good faith, but it was definitely a tense one. Thomas fidgeted, inching towards Minho until it practically looked like he was hiding behind him.
“Are you surprised though,” Minho pitched in, wanting to save his pretend-boyfriend, “In his own words, Thomas is an awkward butterfly,” Minho commented dryly.
“It’s still a turtle, Minho!” Thomas rolled his eyes at him.
“But turtles are so plain. Butterflies are pretty. Wouldn’t you rather be pretty?” Minho said with fondness. Thomas had no right being this cute.
“I-uh..” Thomas stuttered, “I’m getting a drink—“
Minho snagged Thomas’ current wine glass. “Yes, thank you for getting me one,” he smirked as Thomas looked like he was two seconds from fleeing, consequences be damned. “Shall we?”
Thomas grabbed Minho and practically dragged him away.
“Good news is, Chuck survived my deadly charm—“ Thomas rolled his eyes, “—bad news is, you’re mom knows because of the way you were acting.”
“Yeah, yeah, so I’m not the smoothest cat in this game,”
“No. You’re a turtle.”
“What about butterflies? I thought turtles were ugly?” God help him, Thomas was actually pouting.
“You’re the one that wanted to be a turtle so bad,” Minho shrugged, leading him to the bar. “Oh good! Open bar,”
“Well now I can explore other options too, right? Should I get a beer?”
“You hated the beers, threw them out remember? Try the rum. No, no you peasant. The golden rum.”
“Mount Gay? You’re not as funny as you think, Minho.”
“Gay used to mean happy,” Minho shook his head, faking disappointment, “Besides, its expensive. Get it with coke though. You’re a lightweight.”
“When did you get so observant?” Thomas frowned but ordered Minho’s recommendation anyways. Minho avoided his stare, looking around the spacious lawn of the golf-course they were at.
“I think I found the groom,” he held Thomas by the elbow to a short freckled man with a polite smile.
“We didn’t talk about drinks,” Thomas insisted.
“Hush,”
“I—“
“Hi. I’m Aris,” A man wearing a hat that’s sign said: ‘Groom-To-Be’ In Case U Weren’t Sure’ walked up to them. “You must be Thomas and Meen-ho. Did I get that right?” he asked Thomas’ very real boyfriend.
“Good attempt! More like Min..like minutes. And Ho..like Christmas I guess,” Minho dimpled as Aris smiled widely. “Thank you for the suite the way. It’s quite generous.”
“Oh please!” Aris waved it aside, “You’re visiting family and immediate cousins. I do truly appreciate having you here, Thomas. I’ve heard so much.”
“Congratulations on getting married. Well..about to,” Thomas stated awkwardly. “Knowing Teresa there’s a running theme?”
“Yeah. ‘Expensive looking’,” Aris laughed at some inside joke they weren’t privy to. “Teal and white with ‘hints of blue’” he imitated Teresa so well, Thomas laughed.
“Sounds like Teresa,” Thomas shook his head. “Did she show you her album?”
“What album?” Aris looked intrigued.
“You don’t know?” Thomas turned to Minho including him into the conversation so he wouldn’t feel left out. “Teresa’s been building her ideal wedding since she was a ten I think. I didn’t get it personally…but I thought she’d at least use *some* of it for her actual wedding?”
“Ohh that album. No that’s more of portfolio…I’m surprised she didn’t tell you. Teresa’s a wedding planner.”
“Oh.” There was an awkward pause and Thomas looked at Minho to save him.
“The venue’s gorgeous!” was the best thing Minho could come up with. It didn’t help.
“We’re not actually that close…she’s closer to my ex. That’s who she probably told,” Thomas hunched his shoulders inward and Minho reached for his hand, squeezing it in assurance; it gave him a boost, “Well, same town so it’s expected right?”
Aris gave them a calculated look, smile dropping a little. “So you’re Gally’s ex.” Aris looked across the lawn, “Best not tell her about the room then…”
“Yeah,” Thomas said softly. He knew it, he ju—
“I’m sorry. About what happened between you two. I’ve tried, but she’s too close to him, she doesn’t see it. I apologize on her behalf,” he offered. Thomas was shocked.
“I like you, man!” Minho slapped Aris on the shoulder, grinning.
“Oh thank God, approval means sooo much to me! “You won’t believe how many people mentioned I’m shorter than her—like I don’t have eyes!” Aris was laughing now.
“I hear you dude. I may be the Varsity Captain but everyone needs that.”
“You’re a Captain? Urgh didn’t need to know that. If I saw a picture of you before, I would have said no because you’re upstaging everyone here!”
“Thanks for saying that,” Minho smirked, “Assurance is always good,”
“Doubtful my ass! He knows he’s hot,” Thomas interjected.
Minho slid an arm around Thomas’ waist and leaned in to kiss his cheek. He kept doing that—he kept being so sweet and it was muddling Thomas’ head.
Was it real? Was anything they did real? Did it matter? He had Minho here with him, right? Minho was his boyfriend right now, so he was allowed to do boyfriend things. Making up his mind, Thomas leaned against Minho’s front, grabbed his hand and zoned out of the conversation.
Minho would cover for him.
—
“Are you serious?” Minho’s disbelief broke Thomas out of his daze. He looked up at his boyfriend, then followed his line of sight, his own jaw dropping.
“What—“
“You try telling Teresa, dressing up like a fairy at the welcome brunch is a bad idea,” Aris didn’t even turn around, “She’s lucky I love her.”
Thomas snorted, he couldn’t help it. “You’re good for her,” he mentioned, when Aris turned towards him inquiringly.
Aris nodded and then a mischievous glint appeared and Thomas sensed trouble, “So when are you two getting married?”
“Wha—“ Thomas was speechless. Were they that good? At pulling this off? Why would—
“Hey, I mean bringing your boyfriend to any type of family gathering, but a wedding especially. I mean. That’s serious.”
Thomas felt faint.
“Woah, woah slow down,” Minho cut in. “Do you know how long it took Thomas to even decide to bring me along? He made three pros and cons lists! Three.”
“The first one was messy, I could barely read my own writing. So it doesn’t count,” Thomas pouted. This actually happened. He had after all freaked out after telling his mom he had a date.
“That’s because you’re writing is like chicken scratch,” Minho rolled his eyes. “Hey where’s your drink?”
“I forgot it somewhere. And no.” Thomas pointed to Aris. He held up his index finger. “Education first. Parents, second,” he pointed to Minho. “Family chemistry, third. Then fourth, marriage. Right babe?” Thomas looked up at Minho who opened his mouth but no words came out.
Aris looked between them and snickered. “Maybe ease off on the drinks, okay Thomas?”
“I think he’s tired from our trip,” Minho found his voice again. He smiled apologetically as Thomas nodded along. “Is it okay if we leave early?”
“Yeah, no worries.” Aris waved him off with a grin, “Just be there tomorrow.”
“I went through a painful process of getting us outfits for your events, trust me we won’t miss it,” Minho assured him, leading Thomas away. Thomas was clingy all through the car ride but the moment they stepped into the elevator he sighed.
“Thank God!! It was so boring. Two times she could have approached us and instead re-routed!”
“Rerouted..really, Thomas? What are you, a directions app?” Minho said as the elevator dinged, signalling their floor.
“You know what I mean!! And did you hear what he said? That if he’d seen a picture of you, he would have said no.”
“It was a joke,” Minho shook his head, swiping the key card.
“No. He stressed Minho. She protested me coming…” Thomas sighed. “What am I even doing here?”
“Showing off. That’s what you’re doing here.” Thomas glanced at him just in time to see Minho take off his jacket, walking towards him. “You’re here to show that the past is the past. That it hasn’t slowed you down.”
Thomas’ heart was hammering against his ribcage, Minho was so close. Decently close, not crowding close but his back was against the door and he had a crush on this guy, he was allowed to feel..whatever.
“You’ve upgraded.” Minho continued. “That you’re happy. You are, aren’t you? At college. With me?” Thomas gave a small nod, still not looking directly at Minho. “Shall we order your precious airplane snack cravings now?”
“I’m never living that down, am I?” Thomas sighed.
“What kind of a boyfriend would I be to just let it go,” Minho laughed.
“A GOOD one!!!”
—
A/N: Hullo Lovelies!! Happy Happy New Year!! This chapter has been on my mind for forever and I’m glad I was able to finally complete it. it became a 3,500+ monster, so I’m stopping this chapter here for now, but moooore shenanigans ahead!! Like hmm..sharing a bed?
#thominho#thominho fic#thominho au#fake/pretend relationship au#thominho fanfiction#thominho ff#thomas tmr#minho tmr#tmr thomas#tmr minho#the lies i tell myself
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For the character asks: Jon, Peter Lukas, Annabelle Cane? (giving multiple suggestions so you can pick one in case you get the same character twice in different asks)
very kind of you to assume i get many asks :') THANKS ill do all of them u_u
[Send me a character and i'll tell you...]
(under the cut bc i love talking and this got long lmao)
Jon
First impression
he's a uptight prick with obvious favoritism for sasha and tim and i love him so! much!!!!!!
Impression now
my poor little mew mew hm................I've got a complicated relationship w/ jon bc i love him a lot, but i loved s1 him the most, and literally everything else just makes me really, brutally, sad ;_; The way he tries so desperately to cling to his humanity and how other characters just call him by the title imposed to him makes me wanna cry
...also he just cares so much ;_; i cry
Favorite moment
probably his interactions with georgie at the beginning of season 3!!! From s5 id say when he killed not!sasha, it felt vindictive ù_ú
Idea for a story
Dhfhdh im p basic when it comes to him ngl, either jon/tim/sasha friends to lovers or jon and desolation!tim or *something*!sasha trying to stay as human as possible, together 😔 (or just any of them living and coping together in s4 n s5)
Unpopular opinion
Im just not a fan of monster jon, at all! He's not the type of character that i enjoy seeing having a corruption arc unfortunately!! It just hurts!!! (and this Is from someone that Loves corruption arcs!!!)
Also i really hate moth jon imagery??? For not particular reason, moths are pretty, but i still hate it u_u AND THE ASSOCIATION OF GREEN W/ JON (or the beholding in general!) I CANNOT STAND IT!! i know its bc of the tma logo but guess what! Its wrong! Purple jon rights!!!
ALSO ALSO the so called pining he had for martin just.... didnt felt like that at all! i have Many feelings abt this!
Favorite relationship
either georgie in s3, or sasha!!! i love how he always praises sasha in her research in s1 and even thought he's at his driest & sharp Trying-To-Project-Professionalism-And-Skepticism she still rolls into his office, interrupts him mid statement to banter w/ him abt pronunciation n stuff and its just Normal, like that speaks volumes of how comfortable they felt around each other! they were friends gdi! the moment he realizes she died and then everytime the not!them mocks him w/ her death makes me wanna break smth q_q
im not even gonna mention tim bc even though i love their relationship It 👏 makes me👏 very 👏 sad 👏
non shippy and also staying strictly canon, i love his relationship with melanie!
Favorite headcanon
sometimes i think abt that one hc that hes really good with arcade games bc he lived near the coast and i smile bc thats cute :) also hes a trans man 💙💗🤍💗💙
Peter
First impression
Mystery evil captain man!!! Fog?? I LOVE him :)
Impression now
I STILL LOVE HIM SO MUCH!!!!!!!!! Hes an asshole and has a lovely voice and smile and hes not, hes not Dumb but also he's far from the whooooa evil lonely influence he think he is (played like a cheap fiddle). He also makes me sad in ways i cannot and wont describe, and its a shame that he died cuz he was the best part of season 4 😔 rip you beautiful bastard man i still miss you </3
Favorite moment
"It has blood on it" "thats Leitner's too :D". Also when martin was angry abt idk, breekon? Jon going into the coffin? Cant remember, but peter was like I said id protect the institute, that guys not my problem ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Idea for a story
dfgdfg i have..... a petermart story that dealt with the different flavor of loneliness they both had, half smut half genuine meta of both of them and theorization on the branching of an Entity & how their powers manifested in other people...
basically, peter thinks hes hot shit when it comes to loneliness but gets overwhelmed when martin accidentally projects his feelings abt *fic's plot stuff* on him, its fun stuff!
Unpopular opinion
people either paint him like an absolute devil or an incompetent idiot and hes neither of them! hes an asshole who loves being an asshole but far from the worst monster in the show and he tried to do a clever scheme TWICE on his life and 1. while it was established that any of the rituals wouldnt work singularly the Silence was still a pretty clever attempt if it weren't for gertrude! and 2. well... he tried to manipulate someone petty and formerly supposed to be a web avatar, again not his fault, cant call him stupid for trying dfgdfg
i Do think hes kinda pathetic in some sense considering his backstory, but more out of personal pity than anything else
Favorite relationship
Canonically speaking him and martin! The pull and push of them was The best thing about season 4! Peter being a quite dangerous avatar and martin, beautiful and scared and kinda feisty, confronting him every chance he gets, peter doing his best to manipulate him and martin letting him believe hes succeeding (even thought, he is, partly). They're fascinating characters to have side by side
Favorite headcanon
Partly canonically speaking him and mikaele salesa :) they do bets together! They're lonely sea men! What else could you possibly want?
Also non shippy i like thinking abt peter's and simon's relationship but thats entirely non canon ♡
Diversity wins! The heir of the lonely is a gay man!
Also I think as every rich household(?) the lukases had many paintings and peter as a kid saw the ones w/ sailing ships and imagined sailing far far away from his family. That and seaman aesthetic fucks, which is why he always has the same vibe going on as an adult. He does Not know half of the things he'd need to know to have a ship though but hey he's rich and thats all he needs
Annabelle
First impression
thats a horrible psychological experiment they're making there D:
Impression now
THATS STILL A HORRIBLE EXPERIMENT AND ANNABELLE DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER............. idk! she makes me sad in the same way jon (and to a degree, peter) does! to be a living puppet for the thing that traumatized you as a kid and that later kinda killed you / is the only thing keeping you alive, to be devoted to it scrambling to believe in a higher reason for all of it to happen bc to believe otherwise is............. anyway. i love her, and i feel so so sorry for her
Favorite moment
her "maybe ive never been to the beach" at the end of ehr statement (that i fully believe its bullshit but, yknow, i love that she adds that), most of her convos with martin, her "i told you this might happen" "you did, you did" with mikaele
Idea for a story
i think a lot about her having conversations w/ either mikaele (platonically) or sasha (shippy) and their different points of views and treat with her making her doubt the web a bit
Unpopular opinion
listen, listen, i know it sounds like im woobifying her i Know it but reading the scraps of her story how can i Not feel sorry for her? when the story framed her very similar to jon? the supernatural childhood encounter that gave them arachnophobia and the subsequential joining with an Entity against her will? the fact that both the story and the fans treat her like a spider woman always sat very very bad to me, and the fact that the story itself always framed her like a villain (considering All The Other Characters that get the benefit of the doubt) was extremely disappointing
Favorite relationship
her and mikaele!!!!!!! wish we could have seen more scenes of just the two of them!!!!!! *singing* he is her daaaaaad, hes her dad! boogie boogie boogie! (ok no but like... their offscreen friendship is my favorite thing of season 5 ;_;)
Favorite headcanon
Sigh i dont know...i still think she's scared of spiders which make her current existence harder but thats a sadcanon :/ umm...... i love the idea of mikaele and her cooking together from time to time! Mikaele showing her some plates he used to eat as a kid as he talks stories about his life :) and she listens and sometimes tells a story of her own! its been so long since he had a quasy normal conversation! its weird yet nice!
#i say the same phrase many times but basically best parts of s4 are hands down peter. lonely!mart. peter and martin. melanie's arc. thats it#best parts of s5 are jon killing the not!them. annabelle. mikaele. annabelle & mikaele. annabelle and martin. thats it#dhfjfj sorry half of these are a bummer but you asked me... characters i have a complicated relationship with... i love the three of them s#statement ends#THANKS i love... talking
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Bully OC Meme
[template by @video-space ]
Name: Jackson Bianchi
Pronouns: He/Him
Sexuality: Bisexual
Clique: Greasers
Personality: loyal, genuine, good-natured, hardworking
Weapons/fighting style of choice: brick / pocket knife
[Dialogue]
Greetings:
-Aye man, what’s up.
-How’s it going dude?
-Hey.
-Oh hey there
-Hello ma’am
-Hello sir
-What’s up
-Heya
-How is it?
Saying Goodbye:
-I gotta go, see ya
-Bye dude.
-See ya later
-Ah, I must go.
-I’ll catch you later
Chasing:
-I’ll catch up eventually!
-You can’t run forever!
-Get back here coward!
-Running won’t save your face from my fist!
-A game a chase, fun!
-You can run, but you can’t hide!
-I’ll hunt you down!
-Where do you think you’re going!?
Out of breath:
-Maybe,, smoking isn’t ,,the way to go
-Damnit dude,, I feel out of shape
-I,, could’ve swore this was easier,,
-Guess,,I gotta lay off the smokes,,
-Holy hell,,
-I’ll get you,, later
-I’m getting too worked up on a shrimp
-Maybe if I wasn’t in this jacket I’d get you
-I shouldn’t be outta breath this quickly
Walking around talking to themselves:
-Maybe if the prefects weren’t around, I could’ve done more damage to the kid.
-I wonder what peanut thinks of me.
-The Harringtons will get what they deserve, eventually.
-Wonder if the greasers enjoy my upgrades.
-I need to buy more parts, or steal them.
-I need to sharpen my knife.
-Johnny needs to leave that tramp Lola, she has nothing to herself.
-Lola shouldn’t call herself a cheap slut if she even opens her legs for Hopkins.
-Maybe being rich has its perks, but that shouldn’t be known.
-Those stupid preps make me wanna light their stupid house up.
-Everything is boring, why can’t there be more blood.
-This school should get new parts for the cars.
-Gotta upgrade my ride.
-Peanut is a charming dude, wonder is he thinks the same with me.
-Gotta visit dad soon.
-Stupid prefects, always have to ruin the fun.”
-If crabblesnitch really cared for security then why’d he get a bunch of kids to do it.
-Id choke him out if I got the chance.
-I’ll break their face if they got near him.
-If I picked up peanut, would he be mad?
-I forget Larry doesn’t like the nickname peanut, but I think it’s cute.
-I enjoy being around girls but I like peanut more.
-Vance is kinda cute, is that too gay to say?
-I surround myself with guys that are good looking, and I’m not complaining.
-If johnny likes guys, I’d take him off lolas hands
-Being tall sucks sometimes, but it’s fun to pick people up.
-The girls in this school aren’t that half bad looking
-Beatrice isn’t that ugly, I wonder what everyone sees
Conversing:
-Did you hear about the new kid? Thinks he’s the toughest kid here.
-Smith is someone to stay away from, he really can piss people off.
-Heard burton flirts with the girls, surprised that bastard isn’t in prison.
-Poor Galloway man, all he wants to do is drink.
-Something’s going on between crabblsnitch and Danvers, and it’s weird.
-Danvers doesn’t like me, which makes it harder to get away with some things.
-Did you hear about the jocks? How they like to play with their balls, hate to be in their position
-This school is filled with nothing but morons. No offense
-Ms.phillips likes to be friendly with me, should I be weirded out?
-The prefects in this place suck.
Conversation responses:
-Damn man
-Yeah dude, I hear ya
-That sucks man
-I feel you man, but stuff happens.
-All we gotta do is let it slide for now.
-Once we get out of here, maybe things won’t be as bad.
-Wouldn’t doubt it dude.
-You said it man.
Complaining:
-ah man, everything stinks in the dorm
-dude, what the hell is up with everyone, you either love em or hate em
-hate that I can’t have what I want around here
-what does Lola have that gets so much attention, Shes so fake
-I’m attractive and smart, why are the idiots getting the good stuff
-can’t have fun, I bring up how much I love seeing dead animals and all of a sudden they think I’m mental
Unknown/cut dialogue:
-they can’t put me on meds, I’m not mental.
-at least I’m not the one taking medication
- do you get lost in the color red too?
-ever wanted to hear how a bone sounds when it breaks?
-I was invited to a party by tad himself, I think it’s a setup but I kinda wanna risk it and go
-keep barking at me and I’ll bite your head off
-people like to test the waters, only to regret it soon after
-I’m not gay but I’d totally make out with him
Starting fights with cliques:
[bullies]
-cmon you hardheaded punk, let’s go
-you’re gonna get a beat down
-let’s see how much blood comes out your skull
-you’re too weak to push me around loser
[preps]
-c’mon rich kid, can’t buy your way outta this one
-put your money where your mouth is preppy
-I’ll dirty your damn vest with your blue blood punk
-might have money but I’m sure you can’t fight
[nerds]
-your glasses are gonna need a repair when I’m done with you
-you supposedly know it all, let’s see how true that is
-you nerds can’t handle the heat
-you’ll get more than a wedgie when I’m done with you
[jocks]
- cmon meatheads, let’s see how much you can handle from a real challenge
-you idiots are really asking for it
-you’re not tough, you’re just all talk
-your helmet won’t save you from that you got coming to you
[townies]
- you guys aren’t even smart enough to stay in school
-why you even trying? You got nothing to your name!
-you think you scare me? I got a knife with your name on it idiots
-you act more like animals than people, no wonder you’re away from the school
-I’ll call the pound on you losers
Requesting an errand:
-hey hopkins, you got a minute?
-yo jimmy, I’ll give you a 20 if you get me something
-aye, dude help me real quick, I’ll pay
-do me a solid and I’ll give you cash back for it
-Help me out, I’ll give something in return, I swear
Friendly comments:
-hey there dude, how are things holding up for ya?
-it’s good to see you’re doing well
-you look good today
-you’re a cool dude, I enjoy talking to you
-looking sharp Hopkins
Unfriendly comments:
-who let the rat out of its cage.
-smells like someone left the trash out
-best keep it moving or else we’ll have problems new kid.
-does it hurt moron?
-guessing they had no room with the freaks for ya
-you gonna cry loser?
[Extra]
Demanding Flowers:
-would be nice if you showed some interest
-words can only go so far
-you gonna give me something for memory?
-a gift would be nice
After receiving flowers:
-look at you, prepared and such
-awe, for me? Aren’t you a sweet thing
-how cute, making me feel all special
-you’re very charming
Before kissing:
-wanna see how far it’ll go?
-Ya know, I can give something else back if you’d like
-I’d like to see if you’re as sweet as you seem
-you expecting something in return?
Post-kissing:
-not bad for someone of your standards
-This doesn’t make us anything
-Sweep me off my feet why don’t you
-can tell this isn’t your first rodeo
-you got guts for doing that
-I won’t lie, I enjoyed that
[i have no friends so I ain’t tagging anyone]
#bullworth academy#my art#bully: canis canem edit#bully: scholarship edition#canis canem edit#bully canis canem edit#oc#bully oc#jackson bianchi#bully scholarship edition#bully#scholarship edition
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@polyfacetious big ass Christmas Drabble Extravagaza: Day Twenty Three
“You know, I didn’t expect retirement to be this good.” Jack can feel the sway of the dock beneath him, the slow and steady slosh of the waves where it hits the wood. The sun is just starting to peak over the horizon, painting the sky in shades of blushing pink and soft yellows. It’s paradise, plain and simple.
Even the breeze was gentle, soft and sweet and scented with the salt of the ocean without that heavy fish smell that came with being too close to the dock.
And the only reason he’s here is sitting beside him in a matching folding chair, a little streak of aluminum white sunscreen still visible on his nose, just below where his glasses have slid. Jack doesn’t make any effort to look down at the book in Daniel’s lap, he knows he wouldn’t get it, even on the off chance it was written in English.
Knowing Danny, it was probably in Aramaic or something.
For all the overflowing bookshelves in their little condo, if Jack had to guess how many of them were in English, he’d guess twenty five percent or less. There were German fairy tales and Polish fantasy novels, and even some Russian crime novels shoved on the far end of the shelf. Jack picked them up when he saw something interesting in the book store. It was a game, trying to see if there was something Danny couldn’t read.
And on those few times he found something Daniel wasn’t fluent in, the stubborn bastard would sit there with a dual language dictionary and a notebook and puzzle his way through the whole thing. Then he’d flop down on Jack in bed and give him a smug review of whatever it was.
Jack just hoped Daniel never cottoned on to the fact that Jack liked those smug book reviews more than any he’d ever read in the paper. All that skin against his skin while he was listening to Daniel talk didn’t hurt either.
“I thought...frozen dinners and too many days in a row in front of the TV watching the game.” Any game. Hell, Jack had stooped so low a time or two that he sat there and watched things like shuffleboard and darts. Because that’s what his retirement had been the first time around, after Charlie died. The silence of an empty house, his marriage bed cold and his son’s old bedroom a mausoleum. The only sound that ever broke the silence was the sound of the tv. Jack hadn’t turned it off for two years.
He’d gone through the motions while the divorce finalized, and even got in touch with a lawyer. Jack had a decent pension from his time in the service, and a nice sized life insurance policy. He’d just been waiting to make sure that putting a gun in his mouth wasn’t going to take all those things from Sarah.
After what he took from her, the least he could do was make sure she was taken care of financially when he was gone.
More than a few nights had been spent with the same sidearm that took his kid from him sitting on the arm of his recliner. Just in case he was ready.
Jack never could work up the nerve to be ready.
It’s not a story he’s ever going to tell Daniel. Some things were just meant to be kept to yourself. But he thinks about it now, about how much he would have missed out on if he let his grief pull him over the edge and into the darkness.
Sarah had told him once, long after the divorce and with tears in her eyes, that Charlie wouldn’t have wanted this for him. That he wouldn’t have wanted his dad to be miserable for the rest of his life. That he could grieve their boy but at some point, he would have to move on with his life. (Sarah was a saint of a woman. She never blamed him for something that was his fault. That was alright, Jack would blame himself enough for the both of them, for the rest of his life.)
It was her words in his head that made him even pick up the phone when Hammond called. Jack had ignored a whole lot of calls from a whole lot of people before then. He and Hammond had been in the Air Force together, and even worked a couple of missions on the back end when Hammond was riding the pine pony and before Jack’s forced retirement took him out of the service altogether.
It was Hammond who said he had a security company that he was starting up, and that he could use a fresh pair of eyes to make sure he was covering all his bases. Jack didn’t manage to have that conversation without asking Hammond if Sarah called him. He was too raw, too pissed off at the idea of being forgiven to leave it alone.
Hammond, God bless him and rest his soul, had deadpanned all the way through the phone wire. ‘Son, whether she did or not doesn’t change the fact that I’m asking you to do me a favor here.’
So Jack let words like favor and friendship coax him back out of his deathly silent house in Colorado and halfway across the world. Rich folks always needed someone to look after them, regardless of if they actually needed someone watching their backs at night. It was easy pay, most of the time.
And then Jack got saddled with a sarcastic archaeologist who got a bodyguard courtesy of the university, after one of his failed students tried to put a hit out on him on the internet. (Jack always wondered how you even started looking for someone to kill another person. Did you type ‘hitman for hire’ in a search engine or something?)
The rest was long, complicated history. A whole lot of time and miles and sitting in on lectures until Jack stopped zoning out and started listening. Dr. Daniel Jackson was smart, that was never up for debate. Jack knew that the second he laid eyes on him. But listening to him talk, Jack started to realize how much more than just an egghead that Daniel was.
He was clever, and he was funny. God, Daniel has a whip smart sense of humor and Jack enjoys it just as much now as he did when he first started seeing it unleashed on poor and unsuspecting entitled assholes at colleges where Daniel was going to speak. Dr. Jackson took no shit, but he did it with a smile on his face and left a lot of confused people in his wake.
And how was a guy like Jack supposed to turn a blind eye to that? He’d settled down with Sarah, sure, and he loved the hell out of her. (He loved her so much that he was pretty sure he’d never be able to fall in love with a woman again.) But he’d had more than his fair share of foxhole fornication with the boys before he and Sarah got married.
So spending his days shadowing a smart mouthed professor started being an exercise in repression. Because above all else, Jack was a professional. He wasn’t going to let his slow slide from respect to fondness to Feeling get in the way of doing his job. Hammond deserved better than that.
Daniel did too.
“You don’t have the best long view on the world, Jack. You’ve been known to be a little short sighted.” It’s sharp, and a little wry, and Jack loves the way that Daniel puts his index finger right on the line that he was reading so that he won’t lose his spot while he shoots a playful, loving look at Jack.
“Yeah yeah, rub it in why don’t you.” Jack gestures around him, encompassing the blue skies and the white sand beaches and the handsome fella sitting next to him all with a wave of the hand that would do Vanna White proud. “This is all here because of you.”
Because Jack might have had decades worth of practice when it came to repressing the things in life he couldn’t deal with at the time, Daniel Jackson had never met a puzzle that he couldn’t solve. And Daniel had looked at Jack and seen a Gordian knot that he was itching to get his fingers on, convinced that if he could find the right string and tug, that he could unravel him.
Smug bastard was right, too. Jack came apart like a house of cards in a hurricane the first time that Daniel cornered him in an elevator, a hand pressed flat against his chest and the smell of his cologne in Jack’s nose. ‘I want you.’ Daniel said, in that same knowing way he talked about the pyramids and the ancient Egyptians. ‘And I know you want me too. So why don’t we stop circling each other like some kind of alpha predator and actually do something about it?’
That had been peak Daniel. An argument rushed out on excitable words that Jack couldn’t think of a good excuse to argue back with. It didn’t hurt that they were coming to the end of Daniel’s contract, and his shit for brains ex-student hadn’t so much as sent a threatening email since the cops got involved.
And in true Daniel fashion, he dug and he dug and he dusted off all the broken vase pieces of Jack’s heart and he treasured them just as they were. No need to be glued back together, or polished. Daniel loved him as much academically as he did emotionally, and Jack loves the son of a bitch so much for it that it keeps him up at night sometimes.
Literally.
Just the other night, Jack had lain there, tipped over onto his side because Daniel slept like the damn dead, and watched the way the filtered light from the street outside played against Daniel’s cheekbone, and felt that knot in his chest go taut. Daniel was the reason Jack got out of bed every day.
(And in the morning, while Daniel was shoveling oatmeal into his mouth without looking away from the translation in front of him, Jack had let slip ‘Charlie would have liked you’. And he meant it, too. Charlie had been whip smart, too. He would have loved Daniel.)
“No short jokes from you, junior.” It’s a lazy back and forth, and Jack digs at his own thoughts for a second until he can find the words that Daniel had used for it in one of his lectures last week. Call and response.
Jack wasn’t getting paid to sit in on the lectures now. But he still liked to take up a spot in the back row and do the crossword with the ebb and flow of Daniel’s voice washing over him, the same way the sound of the sea was washing over him now.
“I would never.” But Daniel’s voice trails off, the same way that his attention is fading, already shifting back to the book in his hand. If Jack was a betting man, he’d bet that tonight would be one of those nights that he’d have to roll out of bed with creaking knees and crackling ankles at two in the morning and usher Daniel into bed. He was close to a breakthrough, and Jack knew that getting much else out of him today when his brain was in Translation Mode wasn’t going to happen.
“Yeah yeah.” Jack repeats, his own kind of absent as he reaches over to squeeze Daniel’s knee, careful not to bump the book where it sits in his lap. He turns his own attention back to the rod and reel he’s been ignoring through this stroll down memory lane, giving it a little tug on the line.
Nothing was biting at the moment, but that was alright. Jack had nothing else to do, and there was nowhere else in the world he’d rather be.
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The Importance of Being Honest
Note: Because of course I had to write a quarantine Jaydick fic. And it’s a little too dialogue-heavy to be a good fic, but I still had a lot of fun writing it!
Summary: Fourteen days Jason and Dick have to stay in quarantine together. Fourteen days until he kicks Dick to the curb forevermore. Jason’s counting down. Link to ao3 --> https://archiveofourown.org/works/23598802 (read it there, better formatting)
14.
Fourteen days left. Jason was counting his lucky stars they’d gotten stuck at one of his more robust safe houses. Half his places in the City were one-room, bare bones bunkers, with enough food and clothing for a couple days tops.
Conversely, they were trapped at his place in the Bowery, which, for all intents and purposes, had the form and function of a normal apartment. Fully stocked cabinets, a comfy couch and plenty of books to pass the time.
That is, if one could concentrate on reading.
Dick let out a long-suffering sigh. His tenth in the past five minutes.
“Christ, Dick, can you please shut up? I’m trying to concentrate here.”
“I’m bored, Jason,” Dick complained, “if you had more interesting things to do in your apartment-“
“-there are literally two shelves full of books right behind you-”
“I don’t feel like reading.”
Honestly, Dick was such a child.
“I don’t care what you feel like, find some way to entertain yourself,” Jason snapped at him, “or get out of my sight.”
Dick fell silent. He was the type of person who’d prefer silent company over lonely exile, Jason considered.
Jason returned to his book.
For a moment.
Dick stood on his hands and began tottering around upside down.
Jason let out a sigh of his own.
13.
Monday morning. Jason had the same breakfast every day: six eggs and six strips of bacon. After pointedly ignoring Dick’s request for cereal, Jason was making enough for both of them.
Dick was making coffee.
“You don’t have any cereal? Not even Cheerios?”
“No, Dick. I don’t like to start my day eating a bowlful of sugar, and neither should you.”
Dick rolled his eyes, “Okay, grease monster.”
“Dick, this is a protein-rich breakfast. I burn through at least half it before lunch with my workout routine.”
“Yes, you have very nice abs, Jason. We’re all very proud.”
“How long do you think the energy from that cereal’s gonna last you? One or two girly cartwheels?”
“I’m an acrobat. I don’t want to be built like a tank.”
“Yeah, I can see you prefer to be built more like a ballerina.”
“Shut the fuck up, Jason.”
Jason sauntered over and dropped a plate in front of him. He grabbed Dick’s hand and slid it under his shirt, “Feel that, Dickie-bird? Try punching through that and you’d break your feminine wrist.”
“Impressive,” Dick concerned with a smirk, “or, it would be, if I hadn’t still beaten you in hand-to-hand combat countless times.”
“What you do isn’t hand-to-hand combat, Dick. It’s more like a rousing game of ’dodge-the-fist.’”
“Whatever, Jason.” Dick withdrew his hand, but not before purposefully yanking a little on the hair beneath Jason’s belly button.
He wasn’t above being petty.
12.
Dick was a slob!
He was leaving his clothes everywhere, like a trail Jason could follow to find him.
It had only been two days. How had he made such a mess?
He stomped into the bedroom, where Dick was sitting on the floor, video-chatting Wally West.
“Pick up your shit, Dick!” Jason yelled, tossing the clothes at him, “This is my fucking apartment, have the decency to clean up after yourself!”
Dick hung up the phone, and removed the dirty shirt in his lap, “God! I’m sorry! You could just fucking ask-“
“You’re a fucking adult, Dick! I shouldn’t have to ask you to clean up after yourself!”
“-and I would have-“
“It’s not a fucking circus in here!” Jason stormed into the other room, having no further escape, “fucking trailer park circus boy!”
He instantly regretted that. Wasn’t like he hadn’t grown up poor himself. Dick’s trailer was no more shameful than his parents’ dilapidated apartment.
Or the occasional cardboard box.
He felt sorry. He hoped Dick hadn’t heard.
11.
“Jason, can I borrow something else to wear?”
“Hm?”
“I’ve been wearing the same thing for the past three days. Can I borrow something of yours?”
“Oh, yeah. Go for it.”
Dick emerged from the bedroom in a pair of jeans he’d cuffed at least six times (they still dragged on the floor) and a t-shirt emblazoned with the Red Hood logo.
Jason liked it, though he couldn’t say why.
10.
Dick was lounging on his couch watching television, taking up as much space as humanly possible.
Jason ambled over, shirtless and still a little sweaty after his at-home workout.
“Whatcha watching?”
“Love is Blind.”
He snorted, “Seriously?”
“Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it.”
“Sit up and move over, then.”
To his surprise, Dick moved over to make room for him.
They sat in silence for a couple minutes.
“I can’t believe you watch this crap. Honestly, Dickie, do you have no shame?”
“It’s not as bad as you make it out to be."
“Nothing about this is even remotely real.”
“Sometimes it’s real. And they really fall in love.”
Jason laughed heartily at that, “You’re kidding, right?”
Dick ignored him.
“Love at first sight? On reality tv?” Jason mocked him, “You do know people don’t really believe in that shit, don’t you?”
“They want to believe it.” Dick said simply.
9.
Jason had just brushed his teeth and was getting ready for bed.
Dick was lying back on the couch, a hot towel over his eyes.
“You alright there, bird brain?”
“Fine.”
“What’s with the towel-blindfold?”
“My eyes get really dry at night. Hot towels help a little bit.”
Jason bit down on his smirk, “Hmph.”
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s just, I guess Mr. Perfect is mortal like the rest of us.”
Dick pulled the towel off his eyes to glare at him, “I’m not perfect, Jason. You’re just insecure.”
Jason raised his eyebrows, taken aback, “Well, tell me how you really feel.”
“I’m sick of you saying shit like that. You’ve been snarking at me since you were a kid. And I’m sick of everyone else saying shit like that, too. I never claimed to be fucking perfect, so it’s not my fault when people have ridiculous expectations of me that I can’t live up to.”
“Relax, Dickface, I’m sorry. Didn’t realize it was such a sore subject.”
Dick’s face fell a bit, “Well, it is. You all expect a lot from me, and I can’t always be what you want me to be.”
He put the towel back over his face.
8.
Dick was in his bed.
Dick was in his bed.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jason demanded.
Dick looked up at him, “I think we should trade tonight. I’ve been sleeping on the couch for almost a week.”
“Yeah, and you’ll be sleeping there for another week. Beat it!”
Dick didn’t budget, “Come on, Jason. It’s uncomfortable. It’s too cramped and my back hurts in the morning.”
“You know what isn’t too cramped? The floor. Try that.”
Dick snuggled into his pillow, the bastard.
“Dick.”
Dick ignored him.
“DICK!”
“Just for tonight.” Dick said it like he was bargaining, but it was clear he wasn’t going to move.
“Dick, you’re 5’10-“
“5’11!”
“-I’m 6’3. I need more space than you. Physically.”
“We can share, if you want.”
Jason glared at him, “You want me to come over there and move you myself?”
Dick didn’t even glance his way, “Try it.”
Jason stomped over to the bed and grabbed Dick’s ankle. Dick slithered out his grip. Jason lunged for him, and they wrestled on the bed together. He had the weight advantage, but Dick could be as slippery as a snake.
Jason moved to crush him, but Dick wrapped his legs around Jason’s waist and flipped them over. He seated himself right on Jason’s stomach, and grabbed both his wrists, bearing down so they were face to face.
He smirked, “Pinned ya.”
Jason’s face was red and his stomach felt funny.
Dick curled up tight like a child, far away from him, his head resting on Jason’s favorite pillow.
“This is a one-time thing.” Jason said aloud to himself.
Dick was already asleep.
7.
“You’re smiling.”
Jason looked up from his book, “What?”
“You’re smiling at your book.”
Jason stared at him.
“Did something funny happen?”
“No…I, uh…I just like this line.” Jason mumbled to himself, “In The Importance of Being Earnest.”
Dick waited patiently. Jason swallowed.
“When Jack leaves, Gwendolen says ‘If you are not too long, I will wait for you all my life,’” Jason reads the line, biting down on his smile, “I always liked that line. It’s a good line.”
“It is a good line.”
Jason nodded at him awkwardly and continued to read.
“That’s cute.”
Jason snapped his head up so quickly, he cricked his neck, “What did you say?”
“It’s sweet,” Dick was smiling at him now, “that a line in a book makes you smile like that. I didn’t know you were such a romantic, Jason.”
Jason bit back the denial on the tip of his tongue. He returned to his book, feeling the heat of Dick’s gaze warm his cheeks.
6.
The next morning, Jason was greeted with an unusual, though not totally unwelcome, sight.
Dick was contorted on the floor, ass up in the air and knees boxed around his ears.
What the fuck.
“Karnapidasana.”
“Gesundheit.”
Dick let out a soft chuckle, “I’m doing yoga.”
He gestured flimsily to Jason’s laptop, which was open to a YouTube video on advanced yoga practice.
“Sorry I borrowed your computer without asking. Hope you don’t mind.”
Jason’s mouth was a little dry.
“Not at all.”
Dick breathed in time with the practice, “You’re free to join me.”
“Thanks, but…pretty sure I can’t do anything resembling that.”
Dick slowly untangled himself, “We can do a beginner’s class. Give it a try, it’ll do wonders for your state of mind.”
Jason considered snapping back that his state of mind was perfectly fine for someone who’d watched his mother die, lived on the streets, been beaten to death, resurrected, and replaced, but instead he just said:
“Okay.”
5.
Dick was singing a soft tune in a language Jason didn’t know.
Strange. The Bat had trained them in all the same languages, or so he had assumed.
He wanted to complain, but true to form, Dick had a nice voice, and Jason had been about to take a nap anyway.
He closed his eyes and let Dick’s gentle voice wash over him:
“Nane man dajori,
ňi kalo dadoro, ačhiľom korkoro
sar čhindo kaštoro.”
4.
Dick was scrolling through the channels when he noticed Jason rummaging around in the cabinets.
“What are you doing?”
“Just looking for some yeast?”
“Yeast?”
“Yeah, I was gonna bake a loaf of bread to go with dinner.”
Bake bread from scratch? Jason was clearly a more sophisticated cook than Dick had realized.
“I didn’t know you could bake bread from scratch.”
“I can do a lot of things.”
“Will you show me?”
Jason looked over at him, surprised.
“Uh, yeah. Sure.”
Kneading was fun. Dick wasn’t doing it right.
“Not like that! You’re going to tear it.” Jason admonished him.
Dough was stuck to Dick’s hands. He tried to push it back into the mound.
“No, look. Like this.” Jason moved behind him, taking Dick’s hands in his own and guiding them rhythmically.
Push. Turn. Push. Turn. Flip. Push. Turn.
“Better. Keep doing that.” Jason let him go and turned to switch on the oven.
He liked the feeling of his hands on Dick’s.
3.
“Let’s play a game!”
“No.”
“Come on, Jason. It’s not like you have anything better to do.”
“Well, I’d rather do nothing.”
“Come on. A drinking game. Let’s drink the rest of your stash and play a game.”
Jason rolled his eyes, knowing he was going to give in. After all, it wasn’t like he had anything better to do.
“Fine. Go get my whiskey.”
Dick grinned triumphantly and made his way to the kitchen, returning with the bottle and two glass tumblers. He sat on the floor and patting the space across from him for Jason.
“What, we can’t use chairs like civilized people?”
“Come on. It’s more fun this way.”
Jason made his way to the floor, taking a pillow with him. He took the bottle from Dick’s hand and poured a finger into each glass, “What are we playing?”
“Truth or Dare.”
“How very high school of you.”
“You can go first.”
“Fine. Truth.”
“Who’s your favorite Robin?”
“I hate all of you equally.”
“Liar.”
“Fine. Stephanie, then.”
“Good choice. How come?”
“Because fuck the Replacement-”
“Jason-“
“And I don’t like the demon child.”
“He’s not a demon child.”
“-but you knew exactly who I was talking about…”
That surprised a laugh out of Dick. Jason was surprised. Usually, Dickie-bird was much more sensitive about his little demon friend.
“What about me then?” He asked with a self-satisfied grin.
“You’re in second place.”
“All right!”
“It’s a distant second.”
“Fair enough.”
Dick was still grinning at him with a funny look it his eye. It was making Jason feel exposed. He took a swig from his glass.
“Your turn.”
“Truth.”
“Same question.”
“Oh, I love all of you equally.” What a sap.
“That’s a cop-out.”
“But it’s true!”
“No, it’s not. Your favorite is Demon Boy, followed by Replacement, followed by Steph, followed, in a distant fourth, by me.”
“That’s not true, Jason!”
“Yes, it is.”
“You were a great Robin-“
"Yeah, okay."
"I mean it!"
“Well, you didn’t exactly think so at the time I took the job.”
Dick’s face fell. Jason hated himself for hating himself for doing that.
“That was…complicated. And it wasn’t about you.”
“Whatever. I want a dare this time.”
“I dare you to lick the floor.”
“What the fuck, Dick!”
“What? These floors are immaculate.”
“They aren’t, not since you’ve been here.”
“Are you really going to chicken out this early, Jason?”
“You are fucking deranged.” Jason said authoritatively. But he bent down and licked the floor anyway.
“Ew!”
“Fuck you, Dick.”
Several drinks and rounds into the game, and things were starting to get a little hazy.
“Your turn.” Dick slurred, flat on his back.
“Truth.”
“Coward.”
“Last time you made me dump ice cubes down my pants, and my nuts are still numb. I’m not taking any more chances.”
“Who was the first person you ever liked? Like like liked.”
Jason wanted to mock his language, but he was suddenly feeling a little warm, “Pass.”
“You can’t.”
“I’ll take a dare, then. Go ahead and make me drink from the toilet or something.”
Dick snickered at that, “No, you have to answer. That’s the law according to the rules.”
“You don’t need to know.”
“I really need to know now, cons-slithering…condisering...considering how much you don’t wanna tell me.”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“I won’t laugh at you, lil’ wing…”
“What a fucking liar.”
Dick cackled. “Fine, maybe I will then.”
“I’m not telling.”
“You have to,”
“No.”
“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaassseeee?”
“Fuck no.”
“Please, please, please, please." Dick chanted. "Please!”
“GOD! Shut up! It was you, okay! Fuck!”
Dick’s jaw dropped, his eye wide. He looked like a fish. Jason decided to tell him so.
“You look like…you fucking fish. You look like a fucking fish.” He took a defiant swig of whiskey straight from the bottle.
“You like fish then. Fish fucker!”
Jason couldn’t stop a laugh for bubbling up, but being mid sip causing a bit of whiskey to go up his nose. It burned like hell!
“Fuck! You! You just made whiskey go up my nose!”
Dick was laughing hysterically, unsympathetic as can be.
“Fuck, that burns.” Jason coughed loudly, “God, I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” Dick was teasing him now, and Jason couldn’t stand it. His face was reddening and he was glad to have to whiskey as an excuse.
“Get over yourself.”
“You really liked me?”
“Yeah, I really did. Which made you hating me fffffff-fucking hurtful." Jason continued thickly. The alcohol was really loosening his tongue now, and this could only end badly, "You hurt my fucking feelings, you know.”
“Jason,” Dick was crawling over to him now. Jason began scooting away, “Jason, I’m sorry.”
“Get away!”
“I want a hug!”
“No! Get back!”
But Dick was relentless. To Jason’s clear horror, he climbed up on his lap and threw his arms around Jason’s neck and pressed his face into Jason’s shoulder.
“God!” Jason yelled. He would never forgive himself if he went hard, “Damn you! Get the fuck off me!”
“Stop moving and just hug me!” As though Dick wasn’t the one squirming on top of him, absolutely clueless as to the effect it was having on him.
Jason groaned miserably. What had he done to deserve such torture?
“Get. Off.”
Dick squeezed him a little harder before relenting unhappily, “Fine.”
He crawled away on all fours, until Jason, emboldened further by the alcohol, raised a hand and brought it down as hard as he could against Dick’s ass.
SMACK!
“OW! Fuck, Jason!” Dick cried indignantly.
Jason was cackling madly at the look of disbelief on his face, “Ha! That’s what you get!”
“That hurt!” Dick dragged himself to safety, far from Jason’s reach, “Jesus Christ.”
He knocked over the bottle of whiskey on his way. Fortunately, it was empty.
Empty!
“I guess the games over then…” Jason slurred, “which is….imma go to bed then…”
Jason stumbled to his feet, slowly and clumsily making his way to the bedroom, and collapsed face first into the pillows.
Dick wasn’t far behind.
Jason flipped to his side with a moan, only to be confronted with Dick shuffling himself into a little spoon position.
“No, Dick!”
“Cuddle me!”
“No! Get back on your…that side.”
“Jason!”
“No.”
“You know you want to.”
“I’ll kick you off.”
“Is it because you have a boner? It doesn’t bother m-UNF!”
Jason had just shoved a pillow in his face to smother him. He held it down with all his might, but Dick’s fist flew out and hit him on the shoulder. He loosened his grip for a moment, but that was all it took for Dick to get free and mount an attack. He gripped the pillow underneath his head and whacked Jason as hard as he could.
Jason pushed his face down with one big hand.
Dick kicked him in the stomach.
Jason grabbed his ankle and started tickling his foot.
Dick screamed in spite of himself and used his other foot to kick Jason in the chest.
Jason grabbed his other ankle and forced them to either side of his body.
Dick grabbed him between his legs and began to squeeze.
Jason threw himself down to crush him under his weight.
Dick squirmed to the side and used Jason’s momentum to flip them over.
“Ha!” He cried in triumph, hands on Jason’s shoulders. From where he was seated, there was no mistaking Jason’s arousal. Dick was impressed. After all those drinks you’d think he-
“AH!” He cried as Jason suddenly forced himself up, dislodging Dick from his crotch. Jason pressed his advantage, crushing Dick beneath him, hands gripping his thighs, chests pressed together, his face inches from Dick’s.
Dick’s eyes were wide, his face was pink, his lips were parted. Jason wanted to devour him.
Dick looked like he was about to speak. Jason could think of no other way to silence him.
He crashed his lips against Dick's.
Then they were kissing and moving aggressively, hands wandering, rolling around on the bed. Jason ground into Dick and Dick let out a moan that he knew would follow him in his dreams. Dick was tugging at his shirt, Jason was fumbling with his own pants, he was so tangled up in Dick he could hardly tell who was who, but he never wanted to be separate again, from now on he always wanted to be this close to Dick.
They were rolling, pushing, squeezing, and Jason’s head was pounding, but he was seeing and touching parts of Dick he’d never imagined, and Dick was touching him too.
They came apart together, and when it was over Jason, pressed closely to Dick, slept better than he had in years.
2.
He woke up as if in a strange dream.
He was naked
Someone was next to him.
That someone was Dick.
His nose was in Dick’s hair.
He arm was clutching Dick’s waist.
Dick was naked too.
Dick. Naked!
And he was still asleep.
Jason shamefully snuck a peek at him.
He was all warm, golden skin.
Angular, perfect face.
Long, slim neck.
Strong, lean back.
Faded scars.
Round, plush ass.
Strong thighs.
Jason could lean in and stay pressed up against him all day long.
Instead he went to make some coffee.
As he prepared the first cup to Dick's liking, he heard a soft shuffle.
Dick was there.
He hadn’t bothered getting dressed.
God bless him.
"Hi."
"Hi."
1.
“You know what this means?”
“What?”
“You cheated.”
“…what?”
“During the game. You said Steph was your favorite Robin,” Dick was grinning at him now, all teeth. Smug as can be, “That wasn’t the truth.”
Jason walked toward him, stopping only when they were inches apart. Smirking triumphantly when Dick had to look up at him.
He wanted to taste that grin.
Dick opened his mouth again, “You-mmmmm”
Jason had finally found a way to shut him up.
They spent the day together.
0.
They’d made it fourteen days. Dick was free to go.
But Jason didn’t want him to, and Dick didn’t offer.
What Jason did want to do was finally get to a grocery store. He had a nice dinner in mind, and needed some ingredients.
“I’m heading out!” He called, but Dick appeared, fully dressed in athletic gear.
“I thought I’d get some fresh air too. Going for a run.”
“See you back here later?”
Dick grinned, “If you’re not too long-“
“Don’t even think about it.”
“-I will wait for you all my life.”
Jason, refusing to dignify that with an answer, made his way out the door.
“Don’t pretend you’re indifferent to me!” Dick called after him.
Jason turned back with a grin, “Even before I met you, I was far from indifferent to you.”
Dick smiled, “Oh, Jason. That was so sweet. Did you just make that up?”
Jason’s grin froze on his face. He stared at Dick. Dick stared blankly back.
“Fucking dumbass!” Jason stomped off, not even trying to keep the amused smile off his face.
“Jason, wait!” Dick laughed, chasing him, “What do you mean? Jason!”
-the end-
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Guns for Hire: Reloading
Ramsay Bolton x Reader
Ao3
Part 3 of The Bastard’s Boys series
Words: 2805
song
Summary: It’s been 15 years since your son was born and the loss of most of those you love. But now old faces are resurfacing, from prison and hiding. But an even bigger threat now lingers on the horizon, and unluckily for the Bolton family, makers of the finest firearms and weapons, sights have been set.
Chapter 1: Revolution
You sat there in the handsome leather chair, leg crossed over the other and elbows on the arm rests. With a sigh you rested your finger tips together and used your foot to rock slightly in the desk chair. “He didn’t take it as well as I thought he would.”
”That’s on you baby girl. I told you not to keep him in the dark.” Ramsay muffled through a cigarette, eyes busy on the gun he was cleaning.
”So why did you allow it if you knew? Hm?” You questioned, turning your eyes to your husband.
He shot you quick glance, smirk as prominent as ever. “I like to watch you struggle. Pay for your mistakes.”
Annoyed by his words you simply tutted and rolled your eyes, leaning back further into the seat. “He has a game tomorrow evening.”
”And I’ve cleared my schedule to be there.” Ramsay replied almost at once.
You closed your eyes and let a small smile tug your lips. Ramsay may not have been a good guy, or even a nice guy, but you could not fault him for what he did for his children. He may not have been a model father or role model at all, but he did the best he knew how. And what was different about it, was that it was mostly genuine. He truly cared for the two tiny humans he had helped you create. Of course, it was also for his own selfish, narcissistic reasons too, but you couldn't change who he was. Nor did you want to. Ramsay Bolton and all his strange little quirks.
"Do we have an actual visual on Euron yet?" You asked, opening your eyes and staring up at the ceiling.
"No. In due time, baby doll. With Cersei back at the Rock, he'll make his grand appearance soon enough. It's not like they're all that old. Like both sixty maybe? I don't even think Cersei is quite that old. Like fifty five? They still got enough juice in 'em to come in guns a blazing." Ramsay said, standing from his seat.
You frowned, hearing the click of metal on metal telling you that Ramsay was done cleaning his gun. "I'm tired of waiting. I've been waiting. For fifteen fucking years." You said rather bitterly, sitting up straight in the chair again. Your eyes turning to the office door as it opened. In walked Abbey and Moose. Old Moose as you now called him. 15 years he'd been a part of your life. Roughly six months older than your son. And now he was nearing the end of his time with the Boltons. A bad hip didn't let him get around as quickly as he used too, and the white on his face made him look as though he well earned the place in front of your living room fire place. But, if one thing still worked just the same it was his tail, which had been the cause of many falling downs of your children when they were learning to walk. You smiled at Moose as he came and rested his enormous head in your lap, looking up at you with those big, tired, chocolate eyes. His tail thumping against the wooden desk. You stroked the top of his head and then gave you daughter a smile.
"What's up, baby?" You asked when Abbey came over and hopped up on the edge of the desk.
"Olyvar is on his way down the drive, and me and daddy are gonna go to the gun range." She said, setting her phone down on the desk, and running her foot gently along Moose's back.
You nodded, "I see. Well, you and your daddy be careful. And I shall see you two at dinner?" You stood from the chair, placing a kiss to Ramsay's cheek and reaching the door before turning back to the pair, "Ab, where's Dame?"
Abbey shrugged, "Last I saw him he was playing games in the den."
You wandered the well beaten path from your husband's office to the den the kid's used to get away from the rest of the house. You poked your head in the door. "Hey, Dame. I'm meeting with Olyvar, and then I would like for us to have a talk. Just you and I. Okay?"
"Sure thing, Mom." Damon said dismissively, never looking away from the game he was playing. How much like his father he was in the tiniest of ways.
You gave a false grin and turned to head for the front door, but met Olyvar and a maid in the hall. You gave him a broad smile and quick hug. "So sorry, I totally forgot you were coming by, or I would have set up a snack bar." You said, leading Olyvar to the kitchen and taking a seat at the bar. You preferred to do your work here, just like old times you always thought.
"No, no. Don't worry. I won't be here long. Just brought the book by so we can make sure the numbers are right and look over inventory." Olyvar said, taking a seat beside you and setting down the large black book he had pulled from his leather bag.
"Ooooo, gotta hot date tonight or something?" You asked with a roguish smile at your friend.
"Actually, I do! Some rich Italian investor guy. He came by the bar last night, and we started talking and... Well, anyways...." Olyvar said, giving his own grin.
You giggled, "Oh Ollie. You are something else." You opened the book and pulled your phone from your pocket to open the calculator.
"So, I take it that you heard the news?" Olyvar asked, sliding a pen from his pocket and placing it on the open book.
You gave a heavy sigh and an ugly frown, "Oh I did. I can't believe it's been fifteen fucking years. What's more, I can't believe they gave her parole."
"Well, the perks of money, organized crime, and plea deals. I still can't get over that she turned in her two little henchmen. Especially the big one, what was his name?"
"Gregor." You said almost at once. Gregor Clegane and Bronn Blackwater. How Cersei tossed them under the bus immediately to shorten her sentence, along with the work of her lawyer Qyburn. You were furious when you sat in the back of that courtroom with Skinner and the judge read out the sentence and circumstances. 'Eligible for parole in fifteen years' he said, and you had felt your blood boil. Even Skinner, always calm, cool, and collected let a look of agitation cross his face, 'And you can damn sure bet they will give it to her' he had hissed to you as both slipped from the courtroom.
"Mm, right. Him." Olyvar said before changing track and pulling a magazine from his messenger bag. "But I do have something else. Very interesting, I might add." He set the magazine down and you glanced it over. A fashion magazine.
You looked from magazine to Olyvar. "What of it?" You asked. Olyvar just motioned for you to look into it. So you picked up the magazine and started flipping through pages. Nothing overly exciting until... "Alayne Stone." You read the name slowly, and shifted your eyes to the picture beside the heading 'Alayne Stone, founder of Stone Madien Ltd. to release an exclusive fall fashion line'. You studied the picture, a woman a couple years younger than you displayed sewing final touches on some model's dress. You studied her face, long dark hair... "such a familiar face." You said under your breath, trying to place it. It slowly started to click together and you gave a tiny gasp, turning to look at Olyvar who knew you were on the same page as him as he gave a small smile and nod. "Sansa Stark?" You whispered.
"The very same." Olyvar said quietly, turning his eyes to the magazine too. "Hiding in plain sight all this time."
"So what of the other one?" You asked, remembering that spirited little racer you once had.
Olyvar shrugged, "As far as I know, no one ever found out. The poor girl was probably kidnapped and smuggled into the underground. She was very young. Probably dead now."
You sighed, closing the magazine, "Probably." You agreed. Such a horrible life, and yet, it was the life of many. There really were no safe places anymore. Not even a church, as had been proven to you firsthand.
---
"Alright then. I'll get the orders put in, and I'll see you this weekend?" Olyvar said, replacing all the items back in his bag.
"Yep. I'll be there." You smiled brightly as the kitchen door opened and your son wandered in. He gave a small wave to Olyvar before opening the refrigerator door and disappearing behind it. You stood from the bar stool and walked Olyvar to the front door and gave him a tight hug before returning to the kitchen. Damon leaning against the counter and spearing a piece of fruit on the end of his fork. You watched him for a few moments before glancing at the back patio. "come on. It's nice outside." You said, crossing to the glass door and sliding it open.
Damon followed you and gained the seat next to the one you took. "Where's Moose?" He asked. Moose was usually hot on the heels when he heard a door open.
"Probably asleep upstairs. Text you father and tell him I'm lazy today and to pick up pizza on his way home." You said, gazing out past the yard, down to the stables and heaving a small sigh. Out of the corner of your eye you watched your son typing away on his phone. You tried to marshal your thoughts and find words to say, but it was hard. Maybe Ramsay was right. You were doing more damage than good by keeping your children in the dark. "I'm sorry." You said, pausing for a moment, "For never telling you about it all before. I just thought... you're so young. You didn't need to know."
Damon set his phone down and turned to you with the same wan smile his father used when he had run himself ragged and tried to assure you that he was fine. "I think mainly I'm just mad at myself, ya know? For never considering it before. I mean, it makes a lot of sense now. Why some people treat me different. I thought maybe it was just because we're rich. People like to use and abuse--" Such words of wisdom you thought "-- and always trying to get good with me. But, I understand now that it had more to do with than just money. But like dad says, nasty filth, dirty world."
"It doesn't make us any different than what we are though, Dame. Remember that. Nothing has changed. You just... know the whole story now. And it was foolish of me to ever think that you would be better off not knowing the truth. The amount of times your father and I argued over it."
"So then, why didn't he tell me?"
You gave a dry chuckle, "Because you're father is a fucking weirdo. Likes to play little games with people. Sit and watch him. Don't listen to his words. Watch his eyes. It's all there, plain as day."
"So, what did all that mean back in the study? With the Lannister woman?" Damon asked, staring off over the yard now too.
"It means we have to be careful. And we have to look out for one another. You, me, Abbey, your father."
"And the others?"
You nodded, "Yes. But there is a rule baby, and you must remember the rule. You, your family, and then anyone else."
"Why would I put myself first? I would always choose Abbey over me." Damon said, giving you a startled look.
"You, your family, and then everyone else." You repeated firmly. "That's how it goes."
You both sat in silence for many long minutes before you stood, patting your son on the leg as you had gotten up. "Now, how's everything else?"
"Good, I suppose?" Damon shrugged, following you back inside. Moose pushed past you both to finally get outside.
"Ready for the game tomorrow?" You asked, swiping a bottle of water from the counter as you passed.
"Feeling a lot of pressure, actually. I'm the only freshman on the varsity team. I feel like if we don't win, it's my fault." Damon confessed. Such a sweet boy he was. Though, he lacked confidence. You would make Ramsay fix that. He helped push you along to gain yours, even if it did lead to a string of very messy things along the way.
"You'll do just fine, baby. You boys will win tomorrow and then off to the playoffs." You beamed. Damon played baseball. While it required a lot of physical exertion, it was a better choice in your opinion than football. Damon had suffered a lot of illnesses in his early childhood, which the doctor chalked up to his premature birth. Nothing out of the ordinary in premature cases. Signs of asthma, heart murmurs, weaker immune system, and so on. But, Damon always came out on top and as he entered late childhood into adolescence he was just like every other young kid around him, mostly. Except the part where his parents were an organized crime power couple. Yeah, so maybe that was a little different, but, it is what it is.
"Will dad be there?" He asked.
"Mhm. He told me before he and your sister left that he would be there." You nodded. You saw the flash of excitement on his face as you confirmed that Ramsay would be there. How important it was to him. Not that it was Ramsay's fault he had been so busy lately. And Damon knew that. But even you had to admit that Ramsay was a bit, off lately. Even Ben, Matt, and Skinner were in agreement with that statement. Though, none of you knew what was up about it, or how to even mention it. "And how's Hope?"
Damon went pink in the cheeks and cleared his throat. He always got flushed and flustered when you mentioned his little girl friend. "Uh... good. I mean, they got all moved and stuff over the weekend, so, you know... good."
"You'll have to invite her over for dinner one day. Maybe go to the mall and take her shopping or something." You said, remembering the cute little blonde girl who had given your son a fleeting kiss on the cheek after school as she hurried off to the bus. "Mm, that reminds me." You said, crossing to the whiteboard on the wall leading into the den, "Buy housewarming gift for the Ashwoods." You muttered to yourself, writing the words on the board and replacing the cap of the pen with a smug smile. Hope's family had been the victims of arson. That side of the city had been targeted frequently by a group who set random buildings aflame. And it was a matter you were now looking into after Damon had come to you in distress that Hope's house was on fire. You refused to have this kind of disorder in your city.
You stepped back from the board and turned to your son, "Well then. Go throw your uniform in the wash and I will have it hung up and ready for you in the morning."
"Right, mom." Damon nodded, leaving you alone in the kitchen.
You dropped your shoulders, crossing the kitchen and pulling a wine glass from the rack. You poured a glass of wine and sat at the bar, staring at the wall across from you. A manicured fingernail tapping the glass as you lost yourself in thought.
Euron Greyjoy, out of hiding at last. For 15 years you had been waiting for those words. But in all that time in between the day he got away and up until you heard those words, never could you imagine a worse kind of pain and suffering for the man. How it ate away at you. At your mind and soul. How you could never be satisfied with your violent thoughts and ideas. He deserved more pain and torture than even you could imagine. Even more than to those you had hurt along the way. He deserved pain and suffering in even more ways than even your husband was capable of doing. The violent, red hot rage that filled you every time you thought about such things could never be relayed in words or actions. But when the moment came, you knew what you needed to do. Because you were a fucking Bolton. And Our Blades Are Sharp.
#guns for hire: reloading#gfh:r#gfh#gfh2#guns for hire#guns for hire 2#final installment#AO3 fic#kee_writestrashh#ramsay bolton x reader#ramsay bolton fic#ramsay bolton#modern ramsay bolton#ramsay bolton imagine#reader insert#mafia au#final part#chapter 1#1/??#game of thrones fanfic#game of thrones fanfiction#game of thrones au#Modern Setting#modern game of thrones#modern au#guns#violence#gore#parent!ramsay#ramsay in his 40s!
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Clever Canary (Chapter 3)
The silence hung thick between us, only broken when I could no longer contain my laughter. Pressing the palm of my hand against my lips in an attempt to not be so loud, my sides began to hurt from how hard I was laughing. Interesting turn of events. “That’s adorable, Hideyoshi,” I said, wiping the tears from under my eyes, still bent over slightly from my fit.
“I do not see how this situation is humorous,” Hideyoshi replied, his eyes still narrowed at me. He must have really hurried to finish giving his report to Nobunaga in order to catch me before I departed.
Straightening up, my lips tugged up into a sly smirk. “On the contrary, I think it’s absolutely hilarious,” I started, taking a step closer to him. “That you think empty threats are going to keep me away from Nobunaga.” The anger that flashed through his eyes was amusing, too. Instinctively, his hand rested on the hilt of his sword, but I knew he wouldn’t pull it. At least, not yet. “See, the thing is, I very much enjoy being favored by him, and that’s not just because the sex is great.”
For a moment, disgust flickered across his features. “I’m warning you, Miki—”
In a mocking tone, I said, “Oh no. Another warning from mama bear.” Pressing my hand against my heart, I faked surprise. “Anything but that.” Laughing from my own joke, I stalked forward, close enough to have to tilt my head back to look up at him. “The problem with you, is that you aren’t afraid of me. You don’t like me, sure, but not afraid. Maybe you should be.”
The ‘shink’ of his sword being drawn made me jump back. The fabric of my kimono had a small slice in the front. “Choose your next words very wisely. If I find them not to my liking, I won’t treat you kindly,” Hideyoshi said, gripping the hilt tightly. He didn’t want to, because of how Nobunaga felt about me. He knew that there would be repercussions, yet he was prepared to accept them if it meant he would be protecting his lord.
That’s probably enough for today.
Brightening up, I waved my hand around. “I’m just kidding. Relax! I’m as harmless as a mouse. A very rich mouse, albeit.” His shoulders relaxed only slightly, but I’d begun to unwind him.
“You carry two swords with you,” he replied, his gaze dropping down to them.
I shrugged my shoulders. “A girl has to protect herself, right? But to be honest, I only bought them because they were pretty,” I said. The blacksmith work on the two were incredible. If needed, I could sell them for a good price. “Listen, I wasn’t kidding about the first part. I do quite enjoy being liked by Nobunaga. It’s absolutely great work, and I think that his ambition is admirable. So, I won’t be leaving any time soon.”
The tension dissipated from his body. “I would do anything to make his mission a success.”
“Oh, I know,” I replied, mounting my horse. It would be dark by the time I reached Honno-ji at this rate. Time to get going. “Would it make you feel better if said I that I had no ulterior motives other than to make good money?”
Hideyoshi’s lip twitched with an annoyed smile he was suppressing. “Not in the slightest.”
“Don’t miss me too much, okay?” I called back over my shoulder as the horse trotted toward the front of the barn. Giving him a wink, I set off on my long journey.
Sometimes Nobunaga would try to talk me into having a soldier accompany me whenever I left Azuchi. ‘It’s dangerous for a woman to be alone’, he’d say. My reply would always be ‘I’m pretty dangerous myself.’ That would make him laugh and shake his head, but he dropped the subject. There’s no reason for me to have someone along. Informants and their assets were confidential. Some would scare easy and refuse to speak to me when I wasn’t alone.
Bandits don’t frighten me. While what I had told Hideyoshi was mostly true, I had enough skills to defend myself if need be. Katria could kill just about anyone, that had been her training in the place we grew up in. My skills laid more in the art of seduction and information gathering. Situations can turn south quickly, and some required a more physically painful experience to give up what I might need. I have quite a few tricks packed away.
Thankfully, my journey to Honno-ji was quiet. However, that meant it was also boring. The town nearest the temple was alive, even at this time of night. Torches burned brightly, and the streets were filled with lively people. Finding a place to stable my horse first, I then went to the nearest tavern. This is the place where men who know things tend to gather.
Scanning the room, my eyes spotted a familiar man. Haruto Saruka, a young man in his early twenties, a few years younger than myself. He frequents this area and should know at least a little something. His eyes met mine for a brief moment before I ducked my head down like I hadn’t been looking.
Sauntering up to the bar, I leaned both arms on the wood, standing on my tiptoes to look over the countertop. “Hi, there,” I greeted the man sweetly, flashing a smile. This was a seasoned man, because he didn’t smile back. Good thing he isn’t my target. Shifting from one foot to the other, purposefully making my kimono rise and fall each time I switched, I said, “I’m terribly lost. Could you tell me the way to the nearest inn? It’s too dark for a girl to be traveling and I’d love a nice place to stay.”
�� All eyes were on me. The sounds of the rowdy men who were playing drinking games and gambling had died down to a mere whisper. Music to my ears. As if on cue, Haruto came to a stop beside me. “Why don’t you enjoy a drink and a hot meal before you go?” His gaze moved to the man behind the counter. “Add it to my tab, will you?”
Clapping my hands together, I smiled brightly. “Thank you so much! That sounds wonderful!”
With his hand sliding around me to hold my waist, he walked me back over to the table in the very back corner. Good view of the whole tavern and a window to keep tabs on the outside as well. The tell-tell marks of a cautious man. He hasn’t changed one bit. Sitting on the stool with my back to the room, I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. “Look at you, swooping in like a real hero.”
Haruto took another sip from his cup of sake. “Subtlety was never your strong suit, Miki.” He’d paused as the barmaid brought me a warm plate of rice and chicken along with an extra pitcher of sake. The second she left, his eyes were sweeping the room. “They’re still staring.”
I moaned, the delicious chicken making me happy. “Let them. If you walk away, then they’ll surely pounce on me. Your nature won’t allow you to let that happen to a poor innocent girl like me.” Basically, I’d trapped him in this corner with me. He scares easy, especially when the information is directly related to the Oda clan.
“Poor? Innocent? I wouldn’t use either of those words to describe you. More like… clever and cunning. You put me in this situation. So, what is it that you want?” Haruto asked, pouring another cup for himself. This man will drink himself to death one day.
Setting my chopsticks down, I rested my elbow on the table and my chin on my palm. “I want to know about Honno-ji and who exactly it was that orchestrated it.”
His body tensed. “No.”
What’s he so afraid of? “I’ll make it worth your while. I can pay double what I normally do.”
Standing, he nearly knocked the pitcher off the table. “No amount of money is worth that.”
The tavern went silent. To others, it must have seemed like prostitution. The jingling of money from those around us made me sigh heavily. Now look what he’s done. Narrowing my eyes, I kicked my foot into his shin. “Sit down, before I decide to turn all these men on you,” I hissed. Everyone is a sucker for a damsel in distress.
Haruto shrank back down onto the stool. “I can’t, Miki.” He’s terrified. Whoever this person is, he must be powerful.
“Just a name. That’s all I want,” I said. Pushing him won’t do me any favors in the future but returning to Azuchi empty handed would just ruin my reputation of being the best there is. My vision suddenly faded slightly. Blinking my eyes in surprise, it was me who stood this time. “What did you do?”
Moving swiftly around the table, he put his arm around my waist again, supporting my weight. “I’m sorry, Miki, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, practically pulling me along with him out the door.
My whole body felt heavy. Did this bastard sell me out? The feeling of unconsciousness draped over me, suffocating me. With what little strength I had, I turned my head to glare up at him. “I will get the information I want,” I said. He’s made a big mistake.
“I’ll be long gone by the time anyone saves you,” Haruto said, slipping his hand under my knees to pick me up entirely.
Unable to keep my eyes open any longer, I fell limp. Fighting the drug as much as I could, the only thing I heard was a voice I didn’t recognize. Nobunaga’s name came up, and Haruto promised that I was important to him. Great, now I’m part of a ransom deal. This is going to be one big headache when I wake up. And who knows how much blood I’ll spill this time.
#ikemen sengoku#ikesen#ikemen sengoku fanfiction#nobunaga oda#toyotomi hideyoshi#date masamune#Akechi Mitsuhide#Ishida Mitsunari#Tokugawa Ieyasu#oda nobunaga lover#miki#Clever Canary#chapter 3
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I think the time has come for someone to post this, since I haven’t seen it anywhere here. Basically, Spain has sent several rappers to prison for supposedly “glorifying terrorism” and “insulting the king”, or in other words, saying things the Spanish government doesn’t want to hear. In response to this, a bunch of rappers and artists from across Spain (especially from the Catalan Countries, which is where the two most recently condemned rappers are from) came together and made this song, denouncing the repression and calling out the Spanish government for their hypocritical actions.
Rapear no es delito.
Rapping isn’t a crime¹
En las cárceles los débiles, los más pobres, ¿es o no?
In the prisons, the weak, the poorest, yes or no?
En Ginebra los patriotas escondiendo el montón.
In Geneva the patriots hiding their piles of gold
Va Sofía y Leonor, plebeyos a un lado del cordón.
Here come Sofía and Leonor², with the plebs cordoned off to the side
No veo nada que pegue más que monarquía y condón.
I don’t see anything that sticks more than the monarchy and condoms
Contar quien es y qué hace es delito.
Telling it like it is about who’s responsible is a crime
Mira el caso de Valtonyc, a los hechos me remito.
Look at the case of Valtonyc³, I’ll let the facts speak for themselves
Los pobres hablan y a prisión, se ríen los ricos.
The poor speak and off they go to prison, the rich laugh
Libertad de expresión, díselo a gritos.
Freedom of speech, tell them nice and loud
El bofetón de sopetón de este que vive en Torrejón
That idiot, the one who lives in Torrejón⁴
ha puesto roja la fachada y la corona del Borbón.
has made a fool of the Borbons and their crown
Avergüéncense por dar cabida en leyes falsedad
Be embarrassed about using the law to shelter lies
y fulminar con el castigo del encierro a la verdad.
yet striking down the truth with a sentence of solitary confinement
És simple: desobeïm perquè creim que un canvi és possible.
It’s simple, we disobey because we believe change is possible
Mos voldrien tenir a tir a tots en fila.
They wanted to line us all up and shoot us down
Resistir com resesteix un nin als carrers de Síria.
Resisting like a child on the streets of Syria
Insomni quan sa realitat te pessiga.
Unable to sleep when reality gnaws at you
Hacen falta scratches, faltan pintadas,
We need more record scratches, we need more graffiti
falta gente que no se agache por nada.
we need people who don’t bow down for anything
Hacen falta ganas para saltar los baches.
We need more desire to overcome obstacles
No sueño con Versace, sino con barricadas.
I don’t dream about Versace, I dream about barricades
El Estado legitima al heredero de Franco.
The State recognizes the heir to Franco⁵
En tu techo y en el juego siempre gana el banco.
Under your roof and in the game of life the bank always wins
Un apoyo proletario de los barrios de Madrid.
Proletariat support from the neighborhoods of Madrid
Nietas de guerrilleras en la Guerra Civil.
Granddaughters of the guerrilla fighters of the Spanish Civil War
LIBERTAD DE EXPRESIÓN
FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION
TOMANDO POSICIONES
TAKE YOUR PLACES
QUE RETUMBEN LAS PRISIONES
LET THE PRISONS ECHO WITH THE WORDS
LOS BORBONES SON UNOS LADRONES
THE BORBONS ARE A BUNCH OF THIEVES
LLIBERTAT D’EXPRESSIÓ
FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION
PRENEM POSICIONS
WE’RE TAKING OUR PLACES
QUE RESSONI A LES PRESONS
LET THE PRISONS ECHO WITH THE WORDS
NI JUTGES, NI FISCALS, NI BORBONS
NO JUDGES, NO PROSECUTORS, NO BORBONS
A la cárcel van los pobres, no la Infanta Cristina,
To jail with the poor, but not Princess Cristina⁶
pero medio país le desea guillotina.
even though half the country wants to send her to the guillotine
El Rey no sabe ni hablar: “Porqué no te callas?”
The King doesn’t even know how to talk: “Why don’t you be quiet?”
pero a mi no me cierra la boca semejante canalla.
but they won’t shut me up if they keep acting like bastards¹
Por la guerra perdida de nuestras abuelas,
For the war our grandmothers lost,
por la poesía que aún duerme en las cunetas.
for the poetry that’s still sleeping in the mass graves⁷
Tomaremos su calle estilo Black Block.
We’ll take their street black-bloc style
Ocuparem Marivent amb un Kalashnikov. Foc!
We’ll occupy Marivent⁸ with a Kalashnikov. Fire!⁹
Se ríen de su impunidad en un chalet de Suiza.
They’re laughing about their impunity in a Swiss chalet
Imagínalo borracho diciendo: “Que el pueblo me elija”.
Imagine him, drunk, saying, “Let the people elect me”
Con la pija de su amante, recuerda cazas de elefantes,
With that bougie he sleeps with, he looks back on elephant hunts¹⁰
mientras aumenta el hambre y no hay justicia que lo cace.
While outside hunger is growing and there’s no justice to hunt him down¹
Hace falta amor para las oprimidas.
There’s a lack of love towards the oppressed
Hace falta mucho odio para esos genocidas.
And there’s a big lack of hate for those purveyors of genocide
Hace falta acción en contra de empresas nocivas.
There’s a lack of action against malicious businesses
También carteles combativos en las avenidas.
And a lack of combative posters on our avenues
Sa situació em preocupa bastant.
The situation worries me a lot⁹
Menystinguts els qui sempre hem mantingut a sa Casa Real.
The ones we’ve kept in the Royal Palace are being disregarded
Antisistema es un sistema que condemna a un cantant
The real ones outside the system are the ones sentencing a singer
i que defèn a un assassí d’elefants.
and defending an elephant killer¹⁰
Si rapear es delito, chico, no le des al play.
If rapping is a crime, kid, stop playing your videogames
Te vendan los ojitos aquí te roba hasta el Rey,
Don’t let them fool you, here even the King is stealing from you
Dentro de muy poquito, y si sigue así la ley,
Soon enough, if the law continues in this way,
habrá más rappers en España presos que en las cárceles de USA.
There’ll be more imprisoned rappers in Spain than in jails in the USA
Porque vivimos a golpes,
Because living is a constant fight
porque a penas si nos dejan quejarnos
Because even if they let us complain
de la opresión por frases de arma simbólica
About oppression with sentences as a symbolic weapon
terminando a las rejas una cosa no es simbólica:
Ending up behind bars, something isn’t symbolic:
La sangre que corre es roja, es mentira la realeza. ¡Es mentira la realeza!
Blood runs red, royalty is a lie. Royalty is a lie!
LIBERTAD DE EXPRESIÓN
FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION
TOMANDO POSICIONES
TAKE YOUR PLACES
QUE RETUMBEN LAS PRISIONES
LET THE PRISONS ECHO WITH THE WORDS
LOS BORBONES SON UNOS LADRONES
THE BORBONS ARE A BUNCH OF THIEVES
LLIBERTAT D’EXPRESSIÓ
FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION
PRENEM POSICIONS
WE’RE TAKING OUR PLACES
QUE RESSONI A LES PRESONS
LET THE PRISONS ECHO WITH THE WORDS
NI JUTGES, NI FISCALS, NI BORBONS
NO JUDGES, NO PROSECUTORS, NO BORBONS
Esto es por la libertad de expresión.
This is for freedom of expression
Por todos aquellos y aquellas rappers
For all those rappers
que están escribiendo su rabia en una canción.
Who are pouring their rage into the lyrics of a song
No callarem, no callarem, no callarem, no callarem, no callaremos.
We won’t be silenced, we won’t be silenced, we won’t be silenced
Per La Insurgencia, per Valtonyc, per Pablo Hasel.
For La Insurgencia, for Valtonyc, for Pablo Hasel³
LIBERTAD DE EXPRESIÓN
FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION
LIBERTAD DE EXPRESIÓN
FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION
TOMANDO POSICIONES
TAKE YOUR PLACES
QUE RETUMBEN LAS PRISIONES
LET THE PRISONS ECHO WITH THE WORDS
LOS BORBONES SON UNOS LADRONES
THE BORBONS ARE A BUNCH OF THIEVES
LLIBERTAT D’EXPRESSIÓ
FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION
PRENEM POSICIONS
WE’RE TAKING OUR PLACES
QUE RESSONI A LES PRESONS
LET THE PRISONS ECHO WITH THE WORDS
NI JUTGES, NI FISCALS, NI BORBONS
NO JUDGES, NO PROSECUTORS, NO BORBONS
REFERENCES/MORE INFORMATION:
¹ - “Juan Carlos el Bobón” - Pablo Hasél
² - Spanish royal family
³ - Articles about the cases of Valtonyc, Pablo Hasél, and La Insurgencia - [ENG] [CAST] [CAT]
⁴ - Audiencia Nacional
⁵ - Fundación Francisco Franco [ESP]
⁶ - Caso Nóos - [ENG] [CAST]
⁷ - Mass graves from the Spanish Civil War [ENG] / Federico García Lorca [ENG]
⁸ - Palau de Marivent - [CAST] [CAT]
⁹ - “No al Borbó” - Valtonyc
¹⁰ - Controversy over elephant hunt [ENG]
#since there's been more people sentenced since this came out i thought i should share it#please please please tell me if anything in this needs to be fixed#i did my best to translate it but it's not an easy thing to translate#spanish#catalan#music#translation#politics#catalan:music#spanish:music#catalan:translation#spanish:translation#catalan:general#spanish:general#general:music#general:translation#parlem de tonteries
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Make it hurt ( Then Kiss it better) (Yoongi a/b/o)
Chapter 2
I spent the weekend locked up inside my room. Jieun had gone home to visit her parents , so I could just lay off the suppressants, lock the door and spray scent markers all over the place before vegetating in my bed . I worked on my Biology paper , finished seven Chemistry experiments and equations and also finished a paper that wasn’t due for another month.
It worked, in a way. I didn’t think about Min Yoongi more than half a dozen times and I only snapped the pencil in my hand twice.
That Stupidly handsome, infuriatingly hot , and unfairly ��polite Alpha jerk.
Why couldn’t he just be a monster so I could hate him in peace without feeling guilty over how I‘d treated him?
But by Sunday afternoon , my guilt had intensified into genuine remorse and I decided that it was only fair that I apologize to him and properly thank him for what he’d done.
And yet it took me three hours to actually bring myself to get dressed, slipping on a nice huge hoodie ( it was Seokjin’s) , a long skirt and my favorite sneakers. i looked like a beggar , i knew but I was comfy.
A few subtle enquiries told me that Yoongi and his friends were in the huge grounds near the basketball court, probably smoking and having fun the way they usually did. Most of them were Alphas , so I grabbed my bottle of suppressants and chucked in four pills just to be on the safer side , before trudging out of my dorm and into the night.
But when I reached there, i found that half the school was gathered around them. i elbowed my way to the front.
“Get up.” Kim Namjoon, another Senior growled , eyes blazing with fury as he stared down at the boy on the floor. He looked like he was about to kill him, and the amount of fury on his handsome face made me balk.
I hesitated, burrowing deeper in my hoodie as I stood in the second row of spectators , watching the brutality unfold in front of us. It was oddly disturbing, how absolutely ravenous the crowd looked for the bloody entertainment. They were all high schoolers but there was something very ancient in their gaze. A sort of bloodlust? Or the need to see someone suffer. For what, really?
They studied in the best school in the country : reserved for the richest elite. All of them wore the best clothes, carried the most expensive phones and drove the most fashionable cars. One would think, their thrill-seeking minds wouldn’t resort to watching innocent boys getting beaten into a pulp.
But one would be wrong.
Anytime one of the three hotshots decided to pick on a poor unfortunate kid, the students gathered at once. They cheered on the violent beatings and hooted in delirious frenzy.
Next toNamjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok stood with arms folded, Hoseok looking angry and Yoongi, unreadable as always.
I swallowed nervously as I watched the three boys, standing over their cowering classmate. And honestly, I wouldn’t even be here if I hadn’t let my mouth and temper run away with me!
Stupid, Stupid, Stupid.
“She told you she wasn’t interested!! So you molest her?!!! Are you fucking kidding me? ” Kim Namjoon hissed , staring down at the boy with his intent to kill written clearly on his perfect features.
I grimaced as the boy whimpered in genuine fear.
“No…Joon Hyung it’s a misunderstanding, i didn’t…”
Namjoon’s boot connected solidly with the boy’s jaw cutting off his words and leaving a splatter of blood against the pristine white floor . I stared, sickened, before letting out a noise of disgust.
I hadn’t meant for it to be loud. But it was.
Min Yoongi glanced up sharply , eyes landing on me at once. I stumbled back in surprise and quickly burrowed deeper into my hoodie.
He hesitated before dragging his eyes up and down my body, lips curling softly and I could feel nausea build up at the back of my throat. Why did it have to behim of all the damn people in the entirety of South Korea! Why did it have to be Min fucking Yoongi ?
He looked fit and smug , ash blonde hair falling into his eyes over the fabric of his head band, all angular features and sinful lips. He narrowed his eyes and smirked. And then he was sublty scenting the air and I felt completely creeped out and it stuck me that he likely could smell me.
How? How could he when no one else could?!!
Fuck, I was in so much trouble.
Get out of here. Now is not the time to make apologies.
I didn’t need to watch more. Pushing my hands further into my pockets, I slowly walked to the water fountain on the way to the dormitories. At times like this, I wished i had a family to run away to. I was a ward of the state, which meant that vacations or working days, weekends or weeknights, rain or shine, I’d be locked here in school. I didn’t mind. The place was sprawling and you could spend days just walking around , without meeting a single soul.
There was an unwritten rule in our chool : don’t ask Don’t tell. Don’t ask who’s sleeping with who . Don’t tell if you hook up with a guy. There were enough crammed places , hidden from view where the girls and guys could do … stuff. The management didn’t really mind : they got their fat paycheck courtesy of these spoiled brats and their trust funds. Why ruin a good thing, huh?
But the problem was, these guys thought every female with two legs and a working vagina was fair game. At first i was flattered that they wanted me. That every guy i met took a double take when he saw my face.
But then i realized that most of them didn’t stop with the looking. They wanted to touch. And so , it became a hassle that i couldn’t get rid of no matter what i did.
As I kept walking, I became aware of how dark it was. it was a little past seven now, and the lamps leading to my dorm were always shrouded by the trees. It had rained earlier and the sound of crickets, the stench of rotting vegetation and the dampness in the air made me want to hide.
Yoongi standing there, looking at me and being able to sense my presence.
I snorted at the thought of them. Every single one of them were nothing more than a group of glorified sadists. Rich, handsome with more cash than conscience. I didn’t like the fact that i’d registered on yet another bastard’s radar. Sighing, I clenched my fists.
“Wait.”
I froze, my entire body going stiff at the unwelcome voice. it was Kris Wu. Another burly Alpha Senior with more looks than brains. He smelled like rotten fish and i wanted to puke.
. Oh, God.
“What do you want?” I said without turning around, glancing quickly at the nearest building. at least twenty five yards away. Should i make a run for it?
“You .”
I shut my eyes in disgust. And then jumped when cold fingers circled my wrist, yanking me back till I hit a chest that was built like a wall.
“Let me go, you jerk.” I shoved him, hard.
Kris Wu looked less than apologetic as he grinned at me. Apparently while the others had been busy beating up a that guy, this one had come looking for fresh prey to feed on. He made my skin crawl. He pulled me closer and lightly swept my hair back before gripping my chin between his fingers.
“Not so fast. I asked you to come to my dorm last night. Defying orders now are we?” He glanced down at my lips and I pulled away.
So he’d been the one to send that message. i got dozens of them. Come to my bed baby… Oppa’ll repay you well and good..
Disgusting creeps…
I clenched my fists and shoved him off. He gripped my wrists easily pinning me in place. Why the fuck were Alphas so tall and strong!!
“Orders? I’m not your fucking whore. Go find some other slut to get your dick wet, you filthy bastard… ” I snarled, yanking my hand back again .
At least trying to . He did not let go.
“Aren’t you? Rumor has it that you prefer girls… is that it , babe? ” He sneered. I grinned.
“Are you telling me you’ve got a pussy instead of balls?” I shot back and his jaw tightened, eyes narrowing briefly.
“What a smart mouth… I’d love to see it wrapped around my cock. Maybe that will remove all the doubts you have about what’s between my legs.”
“I’ll tell you what should be between your legs. Your fucking tail that’s what…” I shoved him again, this time putting more weight into it and he stumbled, just enough to let go of my wrists.
I didn’t think twice and ran quickly. But damn his long legs he was quick enough to wrap a hand around my ankle of all things, and i realized he’d straight up dived for me across the gravel path. I lost my footing and crashed down on the hard path, barely saving my face by throwing my palms out in front of me.
As it was the rough cement and gravel tore into my skin easily, ripping my palm and leaving burning bloody streaks of torn flesh. i swore, kicking out angrily while he crawled on top of me, straddling my body and pressing his erection into my stomach.
“I’m going to fuck you, one of these days but I want you to be willing. Why not save us both the trouble and just give in?” He sneered. I pushed my knee up and managed to get him off me.
“Get the fuck out of my face, you bastard…” I said furiously, moving to push past him. i stalk away in disgust. Jesus, i should have just bloody stayed in my room tonight!
I was almost at the entrance to the dorm , when the world exploded around me in sharp searing pain , my back hitting the wall next to the entrance with a smash that made my bones jar. I blinked in confused pain, trying to comprehend just happened.
. He had me pushed against the wall, one knee jammed between my thighs, his fingers buried in the hair at my nape, yanking my head back till i was staring right up at him. I’d never realized how tall he was before.
“You little whore…you think you can talk to me like that ??!! ” He screams into my face and I actually died a little on the inside. It’s never happened to me before, someone screaming into my face, and my mind struggled to comprehend what’s happening and how to make it stop. I struggled to get away from the wall that I’m caged into but he pushes in closer and there’s literally nowhere to move. He’s pressing into me so hard that it hurts.
“You’re out of your fucking mind if you think you can get away with this..” I gasp out and he yanks harder on my hair. A second later he was dragging me into the bushes, past the small clump of trees and into a small clearing, my hair still held in his thick fingers, the grip so strong that I’m already crying.
“It makes me sick that you keep rejecting me. You little bitch , you act all high and mighty, like you own the world, like you’re so much better than us, like I’m not good enough for you…..You should be grateful that a guy like me even looks at you….” He spat out venomously and suddenly it makes sense.
“You’re a fucking coward! Only cowards use their strength against a woman you little- ” I stop when he pulls me back and rams me down into the ground.
“Fucking slut, you think you’re invincible….?? Bitches like you are only fit for one thing…. ” His breath was nauseating, mingled with alcohol and he kissed me sloppily, saliva dribbling down my chin as he all but slobbered over me.
And then he was doing something unbelievable, yanking his tie off from around his neck. It took me all of three seconds to comprehend what he’s doing but its too late.
i fumbled wildly for the phone in my pocket but he grabbed it at once, throwing it hard into the bushes.
He pulled me up and flipped me around, grabbing both my wrists behind my back and tying my wrists together with his tie. I laughed in hysterical disbelief.
“You’ve been watching too many movies, Kris. Are you even thinking right now? If this gets out…”
“If this gets out, they’ll just say you’re trying to get attention. That Kris oppa would never do something like this. ” He said softly and I actually choked because it’s frighteningly true.
For the first time, genuine fear began to slip in.
“This is a fucking crime, you idiot! ” I said desperately. “ You could fucking go to prison for this!”
Holy shit, was he that much of an idiot?!!
I suddenly felt completely uncertain.
I didn’t know what I would do if he raped me.
What the hell did women do in these situations? Put up a fight? How..
“Because it’s what you’re good for…” He hissed into my neck, pushing me into the damp cement floor again. “ You should’ve come into my bed when i asked you to.”
I could feel myself go boneless in disbelief. There’s no reasoning with a man whose ego is threatened. I stayed still, heart pounding and then he flipped me around again, staring into my face.
“Tell me you want me, baby girl..” He said softly. Anger and disgust crawled up my spine and i felt physically sick.
I spat in his face.
He slapped me so hard my ears rang. I was stunned and disoriented, burning pain threatening to overwhelm me.
“That’s it you little bitch..Now you’re in for it…” He rasped out .
what happens next was sort of a blur.
He tried hard, really hard to get my legs apart but I didn’t give in, thrashing wildly and finally he grabbed my chin and pulled me close. His grip on my cheekbones was so hard i knew there were going to be bruises . I expected him to punch me or something but then he was grabbing my hair and yanking me to my knees.
When your knees are weak and the floor’s a sharp jagged cement hell, digging into your already hurt and torn skin, and your hands are restrained, you honestly can’t get yourself to stand up.
Not when there’s a six foot guy gripping your hair and your chin, forcing your mouth open. He let go of my hair to unbuckle his belt and yank it out of the loops.
“Get off her.” A familiar voice said suddenly and Kris groaned, pushing off me roughly. I stumbled back and tried to put as much space between him and I as possible, my palms burning.
I glanced up to find Namjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok slowly making their way over, jackets off and over their shoulders , pristine white shirts unbuttoned.
Kris and his crew were usually at loggerheads with these guys and obviously realizing that he was outnumbered, he quickly slinked away into the darkness before the boys reached the pale circle of light on the gravel path. It was almost fully dark now. I stayed kneeling, trying to catch my breath as they came closer.
“What is this?” Namjoon said boredly, eyes barely glancing at me before looking at his friends.
“She’s a junior, I think. Her name’s …. something. I don’t know.” Hoseok said with a little laugh and Yoongi just stood still staring down at me a mildly exasperated look on his face.
“Who did you go and pick a fight with now? ” He said softly and I swallowed.
“Go to hell…. ” I said softly already wishing for death.
If Kris was a devil , this guy looked like Lucifer himself. I didn’t want to run. That wouldn’t really end well.
“I’ve heard about her. Pretty face , potty mouth. Looks like dream and acts like a she-devil….. She’s nothing but trouble. ” Hoseok snapped and I took a deep breath.
i was screwed.
Yoongi chuckled deeply.
“You’re being unfair, Hoseok-ah…i think she has her moments … but mostly i find her pretty … entertaining.”
Staying perfectly still, i watched him come closer , finally stepping into the bright circle cast by the streetlamp.
He looked strapping and breathtakingly beautiful.
Terrifyingly dangerous as he stared at me, his eyes fixed on my face. Something shifted in his gaze as he glaced down at my hand which i hadn’t even realized had begun shaking.
He kept coming and i willed myself not to move. I didn’t want to act like he scared me. Which he didn’t .
. He gently picked my hand up, his touch feather light, before turning my hand over, palm up. He stared at the bloody scratches and lightly traced one particularly deep cut. I shivered as he tugged on the tie around my wrists , loosening the knot and letting me out of the bounds.
My wrists ached as I held them up in front of me, my shoulder stinging from being pushed back for too long.
“Water.” He said calmly. I blinked.
“Excuse me?” I croaked. But then Hoseok pulled out a small water bottle from his backpack and handed it to him.
Yoongi kept his gaze on my face as he uncapped the bottle before swiftly pouring the water on my palms and rubbing away the blood and gravel, making my hand sting agonizingly. I bit my lips to swallow the pain.
“Are you hurt? Did he touch you ? ” He said casually, continuing to wash my palm very gently…
I shook my head.
“No, sunbae.”
He smiled.
“i’m going to tear his limbs off anyway. ” He said casually, dropping my hand and holding his hand up for the next one.
The words terrified me more than anything else.
I stepped back curling my hands into fists and shaking my head quickly. i stumbled up on shaky legs and moved back, still trembling from the nerves. He smirked and handed me the waterbottle instead.
“Get yourself cleaned up, Min Jung ssi….” He turned around and walked away. Namjoon gave me a curious glance, while Hoseok stared at the waterbottle rather distastefully. i quickly rushed over and handed it to him and he shook his head.
“Keep it. Yoongi hyung will throw a fit if i take that thing back ” He said sulkily before moving away.
I stared after them for a while, not at all sure what had happened or why.
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Considering Lifis, Perne's bullying is what he deserves, infact Lifis deserves worse. Side note I do appreciate the writers giving us such an unpleasant playable character.
It’s not the fact that Lifis doesn’t deserve it, but it’s just really weird for someone like Lifis, who plunders and kills. The first interaction you know if Lifis is this interaction in chapter 2,
Bucks:“Ah, shut up. I don’t know if you’re some big-shot tactician or what, but I’m in charge here. So keep your mouth shut, all right? Besides, those fighters from Fiana won’t be bothering us. It’s our boss that leaked the information that they were hiding the prince of Lenster.”
August:“Prince Leaf!? Are you sure?”
Bucks:“Yep, he took one of the villagers and made him talk. He died, of course.”
The first thing you hear about Lifis is that he’s responsible for ratting out Leaf also for Mareeta and Nanna being captured by Redric, but then chapter 2x comes to hammer it in with this exchange from Lifis and a captured Saphy, (I guess Saphy and Tina have that in common)
C’mon, Saphy… I’ll give you whatever you want. So would you please do as I say?”
Saphy:“I’m sorry, but Lady Linoan has given me an important mission. Or will you fight with us for the people of Tahra, Lifis?”
Lifis:“Against the Empire!? No way, I’m better off committing suicide.”
Saphy:“I know this is asking a lot… But handing out innocent children as sacrifices simply cannot be forgiven. We’ll probably all be killed, but we have still chosen to resist. The citizens of Tahra are not just fighting for themselves… Our world will eventually be blanketed in darkness. If we don’t stand up now, the world will fall to the dark god Lopto. Please, Lifis, we need your help! I want you to fight for Tahra, and for the future of our world!”
Lifis:“…If I say okay, then will you do me a favor?”
Saphy:“Yes, anything that I can do…”
Lifis:“All right, I’ll convince the boys and go to Tahra. But you better keep your promise.”
Saphy:“Yes!”
Later it’s revealed that lied just so he could , presumably sleep with her. When captured, Lifis stays with the army instead of being hande to the villagers would’ve killed him. Lifis says that he could rat Leaf but decides to ‘think’ on it. Ultimately, we don’t know if he had a change of heart cause no support convos back in the day.
So we the visual that Lifis is awful awful person right? Then chapter 12 comes and we’re introduced to the Dandelion a group of nice bandits who only steal from the poor to give to the rich. And look at what nice a leader they have! Let’s see what Perne’s done, Saved Seram, a traitorous Loptyr priest, from the brink of death, saved Lara, a young slave girl, from her enslavers, captured Tina, a young priest and “tortures” her (he puts bugs on her face but the game finds it funny even going so far as when Tina tells Saphy her this, her immediate reaction is “that’s all” I will give get credit in the way Tina worded it probably made Saphy think he had his way with her also Tina seems a bit 'off’ with how quick she is to talk about how handsome Leaf is right after she cries so idk), and scares the big bad Lifis, yeah the Lifis who tortured and killed and plundered before the game even started.
It’s just really wierd how Perne is stated to be a nice guy and he has done good things, his interactions with Lara, Salem, and Troude come to mind. And while Lifis has really nothing good about him it’s just really weird how he seems to get so scared of Perne. Let’s see Lifis accidently recruiting Perne.
Conversation (Lifis, Pahn)
Lifis:“Shit…”
Pahn:“Hm? …Are you Lifis? Hey, long time no see!”
Lifis:“Y-Yeah… Hi…Pahn…”
Pahn:“You haven’t changed at all since you were a kid, have you? Have you at least learned not to wet your bed?”
Lifis:“C-Come on, Pahn… That was a long time ago.”
Pahn:“Really? You were biggest crybaby in the village, and you were always being bullied by the other guys… It seems like it was yesterday.”
Lifis:“…You were the one who always picked on me first…”
Pahn:“Hm? Did you say something?”
Lifis:“No, nothing…”
Pahn:“Oh, okay. Hey, you’re working for the Liberation Army now, right? Sounds like fun. Yeah, I think I’ll join. Where’s your leader?”
Lifis:“Wh-What!?”
Pahn:“What! You got a problem?”
Lifis:“…No…”
Pahn:“Let’s have fun again, like the old days! What do you say?”
Lifis:“…I’m gonna be stuck with this asshole again…?”
Pahn:“Hey, you all right? You look a little pale.”
Lifis:“Huh? D-D-Do I? M-Maybe I caught a cold or something! Ah, ahahaha…”
Pahn:“?”
Lifis, a murderer, suddenly goes quiet and shy. And while it may have been IS trying to make it sound like Perne was oblivious to what he was doing and Lifis just getting embarrassed, it doesn’t really feel like that.
IDK, I just find it wierd how two characters, one painted in an awful light and the other painted in a good light (although his questionable treatment of Tina, a 15 year old, and his interaction with Lifis kind of show otherwise. This is one of those instances where supports would’ve really helped for Lifis, and the team probably thought that Perne treating Tina was funny but it wasn’t. And on that note, cause I’m really close to throwing up, I’ll leave you this exchange.
Tina:“What’s the matter? …Is something wrong?”
Pahn:“An army’s coming for us. Damn bastards.”
Tina:“Army…”
Pahn:“Hey, what was that smile for? Oh, I get it. You think you can escape from me now, eh? Well, fat chance of that. There’s no way I’m letting go of a useful slave like you.”
Tina:“Why… Why are you doing this…? Please let me go… Please…”
Pahn:“I said no. You better not try to run, or I’ll do those horrible things to you again. You got that!?”
Tina:“No! Please, anything but that! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Please, forgive me!”
Pahn:“Good. Then go help Trude with that Thief Staff. Now go on, you incompetent slug!”
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