#i had to pause 3 times during the rap just to give my spirit a break but his 'i am a feminist icon' schtick in season 3 might be worse

[falseroar]

Murder on the Warfstache Express

Part 4: Putting on the Brakes

((After dinner, all of the guests return to their rooms, expecting to be arriving at the next station the following morning. That doesn't happen.

Link to Part 3: Dining Service here in case you missed it and one for the masterlist.))

After the meal was over, the passengers streamed into the lounge car. Abe took a seat while Happy assured him he would handle switching their belongings between the two rooms, which was fine by Abe. He barely even remembered what he packed, much less believed he had anything in there worth hiding.

The only thing that stopped the agent from going straight there was the sight of Richard and Mack headed that way as well, and Abe suppressed a grin at the sight of Happy doing an obvious U-turn and awkwardly hanging around the bar until the coast was clear. He vaguely remembered Dorene and Illinois joining him and chatting with Benjamin when the bartender returned from presumably cleaning the dining car while the professor went back to her books and papers with the same intensity as before.

Or maybe not the same. Abe blinked, he was sure it was just a second his eyes were closed, but when they reopened the car was clearly darker than it had been only a moment before, the bar empty and closed, the professor and her papers long gone. He was sitting alone in an empty car.

Except he wasn’t alone, and it wasn’t quite as empty as he first thought on waking up.

“Funny place to take a nap,” Wilford remarked, watching as Abe flailed and nearly fell out of his seat.

“Wha—How long have you—” A jumble of questions crashed together on their way out of Abe’s mouth until he sputtered out the winner, “Why?”

“Why what?” Wilford asked. “Why anything? Why is it still snowing out there? We get the point, it’s cold and winter, just knock it off already!”

He rapped on the glass like that would tell off the elements outside and Abe winced at the sound.

“My head…” The detective put his hands to his temples like that would stop the feeling that his head was going to split in two at any moment. “What time is it?”

Wilford hissed. “Yeah, me and time don’t really have what you’d call a ‘working relationship’ at the moment. Most everyone else has turned in for the night, if that helps.”

Abe wasn’t sure if it did or not. All he knew was that the room wasn’t so much spinning as drifting up and down, more like the movement of a ship on the high seas during a storm than a train trundling along on its tracks.

He remembered standing up, or at least trying to, but almost immediately his knees buckled under him, the floor rushing up to meet him only to crash land on a narrow bed.

“There you go, nice and…Eh, mostly on there,” Wilford said from somewhere above and behind him. “Some drinks at dinner tonight, huh?”

Abe answered, his already disoriented thoughts muffled by the pillow so that it sounded like one long grumble. Wilford listened, head tilted to one side until the muttering stopped, and nodded.

“Right, right, you’ve got your eye on me, I won’t get away this time, yadda yadda yadda. Honestly, detective, you act like I’m always up to some kind of mischief.”

Another grumble from within the pillow.

“Well, yes, but I’m hardly the only one. Besides, this is supposed to be a vacation! ...I think.”

Wilford paused, pink-tinged mustache twisting sideways with his mouth as he tried to remember something before giving up with a shrug. If it was that important, he wouldn’t have forgotten in the first place. Probably.

“Anyways, you just sleep off your nightcap and I’ll see you bright and early when we reach the next station, how’s that sound?”

Abe groaned.

“That’s the spirit, detective!”

Wilford hummed as he left, and Abe winced again at the sound of the compartment door closing behind him.

He shouldn’t be letting Wilford just walk away, he should be up and after him, it had only been a few drinks, hardly worse than what he did to himself on the average weeknight—these and a hundred other thoughts ran through Abe’s mind, but try as he might, his body refused to listen to reason and get back up.

Not that his mind was able to put up much of an effort before it gave in to the darkness again, the detective unable to pick out the exact moment his confused thoughts turned into even more confusing dreams, nightmare images tangling with painful memories to form a net that dragged him down, down, down until—

Until, with a screech that seemed to last for hours, the entire train wrenched to a stop and Abe was thrown out of his bed in a tangle of sheets and blankets.

Nightmare and reality blended together, the memory of distant gunshots still ringing in Abe’s ears even as angry, scared voices began to filter up and down the car alongside the thumping and banging as Abe wasn’t the only thing to hit the floor. Including something big enough to make the floor beneath him shudder from the fall. He staggered to his feet and after a few tries found the light switch by the door, only for it to do nothing no matter how many times he flipped it up and down.

Abe yanked open the compartment door and stared into darkness, the ambient light reflecting off the snow outside the now still train through the windows behind him providing just enough to almost make out the wall opposite his door. The slide of the door in its tracks was repeated up and down the hall, along with more than one set of hurrying footsteps, the sounds easy to make out now that the constant background noise of the train was gone, the engine still and unnervingly silent.

“What the hell just happened?” Abe asked, but his question was lost among all of the others in the dark train car, voices running into and over each other in panic and indignation.

“I can’t see a thing!”

“Why did the train stop? We haven’t reached the station already, have we?”

“Ow! Watch where you’re going!”

“Why is everyone shouting?!”

“Everyone, please remain calm!” That last voice clearly belonged to Benjamin. “I’ll just go up front and see what the engineer has to say about all of this. Until then, if you could all just stay in your rooms to reduce the chance of injury—ow!”

Judging by the thump and the rattle of a door, Benjamin had confidently walked in the wrong direction.

Abe sighed and drew a lighter out of the depths of one of his pockets, glad he hadn’t been in any condition to get undressed or he would have never been able to find the thing. There was the scratch of metal and then the tiny light burst into life, not doing much to light the whole car but making a world of difference all the same.

“There’s no smoking in the passenger car,” Benjamin said, still rubbing his forehead from where he ran into a wall.

“Good thing I’m not doing that then, isn’t it?” Abe said, like he hadn’t just been about to reach for a cigarette to make the most of the light. “I’m not big on sitting around while something’s going on, so how’s about you and I go talk to the engineer together and see if we can’t get this train moving again?”

“Or you could simply lend me your lighter.”

“Yeah, not happening,” Abe said, stepping fully out into the hallway and using the action of closing the door behind him as a way to hide how he needed to take a moment and lean against the frame until the floor settled beneath his feet.

At the moment he didn’t think he could have handled the lights coming on, and the sooner he could get everyone to just stop talking the happier his aching head would be. He would have loved nothing more than to flop back onto his bed and sleep while someone else figured this out, but it didn’t work like that.

It never did.

So maybe he was a little jealous when he saw the door to the compartment next to his already sliding shut, Happy no doubt getting back to sleeping or keeping an eye on the compartment across the hall, where Mack was standing outside the door and blinking owlishly in the small circle of light at Abe like someone else who had just woken up from a nightmare.

Or found himself back in one, to judge by the pain in Mack’s eyes when the now familiar snap of fingers came from the compartment behind him and he sighed so long it threatened to put out the lighter.

“Aren’t we going to the front of the train?” Benjamin asked when Abe staggered across the hall and rapped on the door next to Richard’s room.

The door was locked, but after a moment Abe thought he could make out the sound of snoring. Absolutely absurd that anyone could sleep through all of this, but Abe wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He could deal with the Warfstache problem later.

“Do be careful, gentlemen,” Dorene said, the black robe clenched tight around her shoulders barely visible as Abe and Benjamin passed her door, the door pulled just far enough open to create a narrow gap. She muffled a yawn and said, “I think I’ll be getting back to sleep. Some of us can’t be skipping on that beauty rest, you know.”

“Oh, come now,” said the man in the next room over, the one she’d identified to Abe earlier as Illinois. He had his hat pressed to his chest as he leaned against the doorframe, posing like someone who’d shown up too early for the photo shoot. He winked at Dorene and said, “I think you could run circles around the rest of us if you felt like it.”

“Then it’s good for you I’d much rather get some sleep.”

Illinois shrugged and said to the other men, “I’d offer to go with, but three’s a crowd, especially if we’re tripping over each other in the dark. Say the word though, and I’ll be happy to help however I can.”

His smile was dazzling even in the dim, flickering glow of the lighter, and if Abe wasn’t using all he had to keep walking in a straight line, it might have done a number on him.

The last open door was empty, the occupant already retreated back into her room where Abe could hear the scurrying of paper and the click of various trunks being opened as the professor muttered, “Can’t work in these conditions, but I’m sure I can rig up something…”

Only for her muttering to be broken by a jaw-aching yawn followed by a groan.

“Perhaps you should be getting some sleep, Professor Beauregard?” Benjamin suggested, only for the professor to throw what, upon smashing against the wall inches away from the concierge’s ear, proved to be a coffee mug. Benjamin’s voice was notably higher as he continued, “Or not, you’re an adult and more than capable of knowing what’s best for yourself.”

He motioned for Abe to hurry it up and get them out of throwing range, and with some effort Abe managed to get the door at the end of the car open. It wasn’t stuck or anything, he just had some difficulty getting his hand and the handle to connect long enough to do the whole opening thing on the first couple of tries.

“Are you well, detective?” Benjamin asked when Abe had the same trouble with the next door, whose handle seemed to be on the opposite side of anything that made any sort of sense.

“I’m fine,” Abe muttered, resting his hand on the side door and blinking hard at the brilliant white snow out there. The snowstorm from earlier was still going strong, the wind howling as it whipped against the train and threw flakes at the windows so hard they could hear the constant tink of snow hitting the glass. A few feet out and it was impossible to see anything for the haze of white film over it all. They could be within hailing distance of the next station right now for all he could tell.

“If you’d like to go back to your room and get some rest, I would completely—”

Abe didn’t let Benjamin finish that suggestion before he yanked open the door to the luggage car, his spite allowing him to get it on the first try and even carrying him halfway through the narrow aisle between row after row of shelves before the stars gathered around the edge of his vision again.

He paused again, leaning against one of the shelves for support while the former butler caught up. His heart rate slowed, only to pick up again when Abe felt the distinctive tell of eyes on him, the feeling that he was being watched so strong that he whirled back around so fast that the lighter went out on him.

“Damn it,” Abe muttered, trying and failing to light it again until the third attempt, at which point any shadow he thought he saw back near the door they had come in through was long gone. Still he asked, “Did you see that?”

“See what?” Benjamin asked, craning his head to look like it would do any good now.

“…Nothing,” Abe said, but he was on edge now and every shadow drew his eye as they continued on, and there were so many here.

So many nooks and crannies where anyone or anything could be hiding, and here he stood in the middle of it all with a lighter in hand, painting himself in light to make all the better a target.

Abe tried to shake it off and keep moving, hurrying too fast to notice all the things he should have he would realize later, but right now finding the engineer was the priority.

That, and getting the hell out of this car.

Benjamin handled the next set of doors, only to retreat from the engine with his hands raised when Peter turned on them, backlit by the lantern set next to the controls behind him which also illuminated the truly massive wrench he held in both hands like a metal club ready to swing.

“Whoa!” Abe instinctively braced himself for a fight while Benjamin said, “Please be careful with that thing!”

“What?” Peter looked from them to the wrench before hastily dropping it with a clang that shook the floor, his awkward smile so apologetic that it was almost possible to forget the real, genuine fear Abe had seen in those eyes when he turned around. “Really sorry about that, wasn’t expectin’ to see anybody else up here.”

Peter paused, looking from one man to the other before asking, “Why are you two here, exactly?”

“We’re trying to figure out why the power’s out,” Abe said, tilting his lighter to emphasize his point.

“And why the train has stopped moving,” Benjamin added. “What the devil is going on here, Peter?”

“Well, I don’t know what caused the power to go out, but I can show you exactly why we ain’t going nowhere any time soon.” Peter waved his hand for them to step forward to the front of the car where he held his lantern up toward the front window. “Tell me what you see out there.”

“Whole lot of snow?” Abe said, cautious in case this turned out to be a trick question considering there wasn’t much of anything else out there.

“Exactly!” Peter pulled open the door and hopped down from the train, oblivious to the freezing cold or the wind still whipping around as he called for them to follow.

Abe and Benjamin weren’t exactly dressed to be out traipsing around in the middle of a snowstorm, but then neither was Peter and a single shared look confirmed that neither one wanted to be left behind in the car, with or without a lighter.

Abe sank into the snow and tried to follow in the footprints the conductor left behind, the crunch of snow behind him confirming Benjamin was trying to do the same. They didn’t have to go far though before they reached the front of the train, or at least that part of it that wasn’t currently wedged into a mountain of snow.

“Tracks are completely covered,” Peter said in case they missed that fact, raising his lantern to cast more light. “Lucky thing it cleared up just enough for me to see it coming and hit the brakes, else it would have been a lot worse than just getting stuck, I’ll tell you.”

“Stuck?” Benjamin repeated. “You mean we can’t just back out of this?”

Peter shrugged. “Maybe, but then we’d be backtracking for miles just to get to the last junction and hope no one’s coming down the line behind us past that point. Might be easier to just clear the tracks here, but we’d need to wait until morning to see how much of a job that is. That said, if we stay here for now, I know the schedule for this bit. No one else due through until the day after tomorrow, so no need to worry about anyone running into us.”

 “And no one to come help us out,” Abe pointed out.

“The next station will notice if we’re not there on time, and surely they’d send someone to check,” Benjamin said. He looked to Peter and asked, “Is there any way we can contact them before then?”

“Yeah, if we had some power.” Peter slapped the side of the train, which was still steaming from the quickly evaporating heat of the cooling engine. “Like I said, it was lucky enough that I even could see the tracks were covered in time with the lights going out the way they did. Just ‘boom,’ darkness, can’t see a thing. Whole electrical system, down. Fuel still works to keep the train moving, but that doesn’t do a lick of good if I can’t see where we’re going.”

“And how far to the next station?” Abe asked.

“Maybe thirty miles or so, going off the last marker I remember seeing,” Peter said.

Abe nodded. “No one’s walking that, not in this snowstorm. Speaking of, can we go back inside now?”

He was starting to suspect his shoes were not as waterproof as he once thought, at least not when the snow rose higher than his knees and had a tendency to trickle in every time he shifted his weight.

“Right, right, sorry, it gets so hot up front near the engine this kind of feels nice to me,” Peter admitted as they walked single file back inside. “You don’t look so good though, are you okay?”

Abe stomped and brushed himself down to get the outermost layers of snow off, using the movement to ignore the question and ask one of his own. “You said the power was already out before you hit the brakes—what can do that on a train? Is there just some emergency off button, or…?”

Peter shrugged. “Darned if I know, but I’ll keep trying to restart everything. Gotta be honest with you though, I’m a train engineer (and conductor), not an electrical engineer. Those’re what you’d call two very different things.”

  “Do you at least have more of those lanterns around, for myself and the passengers?” Benjamin asked. “The lighter can only do so much.”

Abe looked at the lighter in his hand and said, “Don’t you listen to him, you’ve been doing a great job.”

“Yeah, there’s a whole bunch of them in the luggage car, up near the front in the storage area,” Peter said, leading the way only to stop short at the door. “But maybe I should stay here with the engine. You’ll see them, they’re right by the spare fuel canisters.”

“That…does not sound up to code,” Benjamin said doubtfully, following Abe back through to the luggage car where he stopped short and said, “And that does not look up to code, either. Why are there so many flammable objects so close to the engine?”

“Because that’s where the boxes of matches are,” Abe answered, pointing to said boxes on the same shelf as the lanterns, above the crates full of fuel, paint, and discount fireworks. “How many do you think you can carry?”

Abe lit a lantern, and between the two of them they carried enough to leave one hanging at either end of the passenger car, plus a few that Benjamin said he was going to take back to the kitchen car for the chef’s later benefit while he walked the train in search of any other issues.

“And then I will try to get some rest, and I suggest you do the same, detective. As Peter said, we can only wait until morning before having a full idea of the situation.”

“Somehow, everyone telling me I need some sleep doesn’t make me want to go to sleep any faster,” Abe muttered, but he went into his room all the same and pulled the door shut.

Hanging the lantern by the bed, Abe changed into some dry clothes while he stared out the window, the situation running through his mind as quickly and relentlessly as the snow falling outside.

“Oh, the train! Oh, I remember the train. How long were we stuck in the snow for?”

Abe froze, hands resting on the top buttons of his shirt as Wilford’s words faded into the back of whatever corner of his mind they came out of, leaving a pause just long enough for Abe’s wide eyes to meet their terrified reflection in the glass of the window.

The compartment door jumped its tracks when he yanked it open, but Abe didn’t waste time trying to close it behind him as he crossed the hall and banged on the opposite door.

“Warfstache!” he bellowed, oblivious to the complaints from the other rooms as he tried the door again, ready to force the lock if he had to, only for the door to easily slide open with no resistance.

Abe didn’t stop to question it, he just barged into the room with a snarl already forming on his lips.

“You’re going to tell me what the hell is going on here, or I swear I’ll—”

This time Abe did stop, as he belatedly realized that his pointing finger was aimed at the only occupant of the compartment’s bed, a stuffed teddy bear wearing a false mustache and monocle.

“What…?”

“He’s innocent on all charges, Your Honor. Well, except for the bribery, drug smuggling, impersonating an officer, and all of the manslaughter.”

Abe spun around and saw Wilford sitting in the sill of the window, in full view of the open compartment door where the detective couldn’t possibly have missed him.

Wilford shrugged. “Other than all those little things, he’s not a bad bear.”

“What are you talking about?” Abe asked, before tossing the teddy bear aside and closing the compartment door. “Never mind, I don’t care. What I do want to know is how you knew about this.”

Wilford stared at him for a second, then prompted, “About what, exactly?”

“This! The train, the snow, the, the—” Abe hissed, a hand to his aching temple. There was more, but even trying to think about that night after the disco hurt even when his head didn’t feel like someone had shoved a swarm of bees in there when he wasn’t looking. “How did you know this was going to happen?”

“I haven’t got the faintest clue what you’re talking about,” Wilford said brightly.

“…What are you doing here, Wilford?” Abe asked, wondering if the train had started moving again or if the floor swaying under his feet was just his imagination.

“Oh, same as you, I’m sure. Just enjoying the journey.”

Abe scoffed and Wilford tilted his head.

“You are having fun, aren’t you?”

“Why would I be having fun?” Abe gestured around at all of it. “We’re stuck on a train with no power in the middle of nowhere! What about any of this is fun?”

“Says the man who can’t sit still without some mystery to solve, some murderer to chase down, some bad guy to bring to justice or whatever it is you do,” Wilford seemed to give up halfway through that sentence, flapping his hand at Abe as if to say he knew the rest. “I thought you’d be more excited than anyone with something strange afoot.”

“Stranger than you?” Abe asked.

Wilford feigned indignation. “Strange? Me? I’m perfectly normal, thank you very much. It’s all the rest of you that’s strange, but you won’t catch me saying anything about it.”

Abe winced, the absurdity of that statement too much for him to even start to pull apart right now.

“Say, Abe, are you okay? You don’t look so—”

“I know, I know! Could everyone stop saying that for two seconds?!”

Turns out yelling didn’t help, and Abe had to sit down and hold his head between his knees until the nausea passed.

Breathe in, breathe out, slow, deep breaths—all easier said than done with his present company, but gradually Abe felt his head start to clear only to stick again on something Wilford had said.

Something strange was going on, he could feel it in the air, and he knew it wasn’t just because of the power outage.

“I need to talk this out, get it out of my head,” Abe said, standing up. He preferred to work with visual representations, boards, notes, photos, all tied together with string—seeing the connections laid out, no matter how complicated the result might be, that always helped.

Unfortunately, he didn’t exactly have the material to work with yet, physical or otherwise. When that happened, having someone to talk to, bounce ideas off of until something clicked into place, that was as key as any clue in an investigation.

“Ooh, I’m listening,” Wilford said, raising one hand only to slowly lower it when the detective glared at him.

“I had someone else in mind,” Abe said, and headed for the door while Wilford shrugged.

“Fair enough. I’ve never been really good at the whole retaining information thing. Speaking of, what’s the name of your partner again?”

Abe slammed the compartment door behind him, and at the end of the hall nearest the lounge car there was a startled shout before Benjamin said, “Really detective, if you could be a little more respectful of the other passengers!”

Abe pressed a finger to his lips and shushed the other man, stage whispering, “Don’t shout, people are trying to sleep around here!”

Petty, but worth it to see Benjamin’s pretty face give an affronted gasp in the light of his lantern, even if another door opened behind him and Dorene said, “Yes, we are. Do you two not have something better to do than making all this noise out in the hallway?”

“Wh—he started it!” Benjamin said, pointing his finger at Abe.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I’m just going to go check in with Happy, we’ll try to keep it down,” Abe said, heading toward the room that had been his earlier. “Can’t speak for that guy though, you’ll want to keep an eye on him.”

Abe ignored Benjamin’s protests and knocked on Happy’s door.

When no answer came, he knocked again, harder this time, before calling out, “Happy, you up?”

“I don’t see how anyone could sleep through all of this,” Dorene commented.

“He wasn’t asleep just a few minutes ago,” Abe said. “How fast can one man fall asleep?”

“Perhaps you should leave whatever the matter is until the morning,” Benjamin suggested, even as Abe put his hand on the doorlatch and froze.

“Benjamin,” Abe said, his voice odd, strangled. “Do you have a key to these rooms?”

“Why, yes, but if you think I’m going to let you into someone else’s—”

“Get this door open, now!”

The order came with such authority that Benjamin moved forward, keys jangling in his hand while other doors started to open up and down the car.

“What’s going on?” Illinois asked, as calm and cool as ever.

“It looks like the detective got locked out of his room and is making us all suffer for it,” Mack said, the lack of sleep probably having something to do with the annoyance in his voice.

Behind Abe, Richard sounded too tentative compared to his earlier arrogance as he whispered, “Detective, is this related to our…discussion earlier?”

Abe didn’t answer, because as Benjamin moved closer to the compartment door the light of his lantern caught the doorlatch, illuminating the red stains on it and Abe’s hand. Benjamin breathed in sharply and soon found the key, unlocking the door and, careful not to touch the smear of blood, pulled it open.

Abe took the lantern and raised it without stepping inside, the soft glow catching on the pool of red surrounding the body lying crumpled on the floor, one hand outstretched toward the fedora that had fallen just out of reach while the other was tucked inside his jacket where his weapon lay hidden. One look confirmed what Abe already knew the moment he spotted the blood on the door:

Agent Harold Apless was dead.

Not just dead—murdered. Abe, a beat too late, realized he maybe shouldn’t have said that last bit out loud when shocked gasps rang throughout the car behind him.

((End of Part 4. Thank you as always for reading!

Hey look, that thing this fic is named for finally happened!...Sorry, Happy.

Link to Part 5: Buddy System.

Tag list: @silver-owl413@asteriuszenith@withjust-a-bite@blackaquokat@catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @95fangirl @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-star-eyes @shyinspiredartist @avispate @autumnrambles @authorracheljoy @liafoxyfox @hidinginmybochard))

[bitchthefuck1]

Kendall Roy has caused me thee most secondhand embarrassment I have ever felt in my entire life and I demand financial compensation

[purplehairedwonder]

Hearts With(out) Chains Chapter 3

Fandom: One Piece Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Gen (eventual Lawlu) Words: 3597 Characters: Trafalgar Law, Violet, Donquixote Doflamingo, Baby 5, Trebol, Diamante Note: I’m taking my turn at the Corazon!Law AU because my brain won’t leave me alone until this is written down. Tags will be updated as the chapters come out.

The story title is based on the Ellie Goulding song “Hearts Without Chains.”

Summary: Law is reclaimed by the Family when he’s 17 and, with Doflamingo holding the lives of his crew as collateral for his good behavior, eventually becomes the third Corazon. Years later, trapped by his impossible situation, Law can’t help but resent Monkey D. Luffy for offering a glimpse of something he’s repeatedly had ripped away from him: hope.

Previous chapters: Prologue | 1 | 2

Read also at AO3 / FF.N

Law stood on the deck of the Polar Tang, Bepo at his side, as the ship ambled into the East Harbor of Dressrosa. While the ship could have remained underwater until much closer to the dock, Law wanted to show Doffy that he wasn’t hiding, so he’d ordered the Tang to surface early. Dressrosa was a country Law could have seen himself enjoying, had Doflamingo not ruled with a façade of generosity and warmth while hiding a dark, cold underbelly. As it was, the sight of the familiar island made his stomach turn.

There was a lone figure waiting at the dock.

“Be careful,” Bepo said as the ship eased to a stop and dropped anchor.

“You too,” Law replied, hopping down from the ship to the dock. He adjusted his grip on Kikoku and greeted his visitor. “Violet.”

“Corazon,” she replied. “Welcome back.”

Law inclined his head and fell into step with her as they headed toward the city. He chanced one final glance back at the Tang—Bepo was securing the ship to the dock—before shifting his focus to the task at hand.

“Did he send you to meet me?” he asked.

“Yes, but I would have come anyway.”

When Law had first arrived in Dressrosa at 17, it had taken some time to find his footing among the Family again after four years. Not only had the operation grown significantly since Spider Miles, but Law’s own reluctance to return after his disappearance with a traitor to the Family hung like a noose around his neck. The executives and officers had been loath to trust him, though Doffy had overruled their concerns, and weren’t shy about taking out their suspicions on him and his crew. For the longest time, the only member of the Family he could stomach being around was Baby 5; they’d picked up their antagonistic but affectionate dynamic almost immediately upon Law’s return, which provided Law a small measure of comfort in its familiarity.

At first after arriving, Law had lashed out—his frustration exploding out of him when he couldn’t contain it any longer, usually as a result of the goading of the other executives—but when Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo had been punished rather than Law himself, he’d withdrawn into himself to protect them. He’d trained and studied and completed missions, but he’d shown little interest in living beyond the minimum required of him, despite the attempts of his friends to pull him out of it. Even Doflamingo had tried without success to bring some life to his protégé—he’d gifted Law Kikoku in the hope that the challenge of mastering a cursed blade might inspire him; he’d mastered the sword, but it hadn’t done much to liven him up.

Despite her wariness of anyone associated with the Family, Violet had been the only one to reach out to Law during his withdrawn period and actually reach him. After about a year into Law’s return, she’d read him often enough for Doflamingo to recognize a kindred spirit in the future Corazon. Three years apart in age, they’d both been shanghaied into the Family’s service due to their useful abilities with the threat of violence against their loved ones hanging over their heads if they were to rebel.

Her cynicism after the fall of her family’s rule was an equal match for Law’s, and they both had dark senses of humor forged from their circumstances. Violet was also well-read and intellectually curious, so their conversations kept Law on his toes. They found comfort in one another, which made life on Dressrosa bearable enough for Law to slowly emerge from his shell.

Though some of the executives and officers had been concerned with a friendship between the two people with the most reason to betray the Family, Doffy had been amused—even pleased. In the last year, he’d floated the idea of the two marrying to tie Dressrosa more formally to the Family; after all, though Doflamingo was a Warlord with government immunity and his own family name tying him to the kingdom, many other kingdoms still considered him an interloper. Having his second married to the former crown princess would be politically advantageous.

“He wants you to read me. To catch me lying,” Law said, coming to a stop. Violet stopped next to him and nodded. “Go ahead then.” He knew she’d need to be able to give Doffy something useful.

Violet frowned. “Are you sure?”

Law just shrugged. “No need to give him more reason to doubt.”

Violet pursed her lips but put her fingers to her eyes and used her Fruit to read Law’s thoughts and memories. After a few moments, she dropped her hands. “The Isle of Women. Really?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Law snorted and started walking again. Violet fell in beside him, her heels clacking on the cobblestones as they made their way toward the distant palace. “All we saw was the coastline. Much to the crew’s disappointment.”

“And you still don’t know why you did it.” Her tone was skeptical.

Law glanced sideways at her. “You read my thoughts, Princess.”

She rolled her eyes, as she always did when he called her that. “You took a serious risk, saving that boy. And for what?”

“That remains to be seen, I suppose.”

“I hope it was worth it,” Violet said, something dark underlying her words.

As they walked, Dressrosans bowed and murmured their names as they passed. Law paid them no mind, though he knew the deference to her alias as an officer of the Family bothered Violet by the tightening of her eyes.

“How’s Doffy been?” Law asked after a few quiet moments.

“Furious,” she replied. “But you already knew that.” She bit her lip briefly, a nervous habit of hers. “His mood has improved since you called a week ago, though.”

“That’s not good.” It meant he’d made a decision about how to deal with Law, and that didn’t bode well for him.

“Doubtful,” she agreed. “But I don’t know what he’s up to.”

Law had once asked her if she’d ever tried using her abilities on Doflamingo, but the look she’d given him in response had been withering. “What kind of fool do you take me for?” she’d demanded.

“And the crew I left behind?” Law asked, dread pooling in his gut. “How are they?”

“Fine, as far as I know.”

The relief that washed over him was short-lived as Law realized it simply meant they would be punished alongside the rest of the crew now that everyone was back.

He nodded stiffly, and they fell into silence once more as they walked. Unlike other silences with the Family, though, it was comfortable. He didn’t have anything to prove to Violet. Once they arrived at the palace, they headed into the courtyard.

“Oh, look who’s back,” Baby 5 said, hand going to her hip as the pair walked in. “It’s about time, Corazon!”

Law rolled his eyes at her. “Did I miss any more ill-fated romances while I was gone, Baby?”

“Shut up!” she snapped around her cigarette. “He needed me!”

Law opened his mouth to retort—the banter familiar and comforting—but he was cut off by his least favorite executive. “Ne, ne, Corazon. Doffy is in the Suit Room. I wouldn’t keep him waiting. Behehe,” he chuckled, clearly pleased that Law was going to face consequences for what he’d done.

Law flipped him off, which only made the slime bucket laugh harder. Taking a steadying breath, Law turned—briefly meeting Violet’s gaze—and headed into the palace toward the Suit Room. Doffy would know of his arrival by now, so Trebol, as annoying as he was, was right about not keeping the king of Dressrosa waiting.

Once he reached the door, Law raised his free hand and rapped on the shut door twice. A moment later, it opened. Law schooled his features and stepped inside. Doflamingo sat by the window, across from the four seats of his top executives.

“I’ve returned, Young Master,” Law said, trying to assess the other man’s mood with little luck.

“Corazon. Come.”

Law made his way to the Heart seat and sat down, resting Kikoku against the chair. When he looked back up, Doflamingo was watching him, expression inscrutable behind those glasses. Law let the part of him that was Corazon take over, pushing the other parts of him aside. This part of him didn’t concern himself with the two men who’d claimed this seat before him or cower in the face of the man who had dominated his nightmares for more than a decade. His back straightened and he raised his chin as the mask slid into place. He also knew better than to speak before the king.

“I trust there were no more… detours on your return home,” Doflamingo said after a pregnant pause.

“No, we made good time,” Law replied evenly.

Doflamingo nodded and pushed himself to his feet. He towered over Law even when Law was standing; when Law was sitting, he was downright dwarfed by the other man. But Corazon, the captain’s second in command, was not bothered by that.

“You’ve caused me quite a bit of trouble with the World Government.” He’d said as much during the call a week earlier. “I’ve smoothed everything over, with no little effort.”

“My apologies, Young Master. It was not my intention to cause you problems.”

Doflamingo stepped into Law’s space, leaning over him. “And what was your intention?” The tension bleeding from that last work was palpable.

Corazon knew the importance of telling the truth in this interaction; still, Law hesitated, knowing Doflamingo wouldn’t like the answer. “I don’t know why I did it. I just acted.”

Doflamingo leaned over, placing his massive hands on the arms of the Heart seat, enclosing Law in his presence. “You don’t know,” he repeated, as if testing the words to see how they tasted. “You just acted.” His features tightened. “That doesn’t sound like you, Corazon.”

“I know.” Law preferred to plan for every contingency, plans on top of plans and every possibility considered before he made a move—all the years of evening games of chess with Doflamingo had drilled into him the importance of tactics—but he’d thrown all of that out for a feeling.

“You know I don’t like questioning the loyalty of my subordinates—especially my righthand man.”

“I know.”

“And yet,” he went on, as if Law hadn’t spoken, “how I can do anything but when my second comes out of the sea to save not one but two enemies of the World Government from the battlefield?”

“I will accept the consequences of my actions,” Law said, doing his best to keep his voice even. “My loyalty has not changed.”

Doflamingo stepped back, huffing a wry laugh. “Now that I believe.” He shook his head to himself. “Get yourself cleaned up. We’re taking a trip this evening.”

Law blinked in surprise at the sudden dismissal but nodded. “Yes, Young Master.” He grabbed Kikoku and rose. He was halfway to the door when his haki flared and he felt the air shift. But he was too slow in reacting.

A massive hand pressed suddenly against the back of his neck, shoving him forward into the closed door. Law let out a startled gasp as the air left his chest. Doflamingo draped himself over Law’s back, his lips by Law’s ear. Law did his best to suppress his instinct to fight back.

Doflamingo’s breath was warm and moist on Law’s skin as he murmured, “It wouldn’t be appropriate for the rabble to see an executive punished. But I can’t let insubordination stand either.”

Law’s breath hitched as Doflamingo spun him around so his back was pressed against the door. The hand that had been holding him immobile wrapped around his throat. It squeezed, cutting off Law’s breath. Law’s eyes widened and his free hand clawed at Doflamingo’s wrist on instinct, but the Warlord continued to squeeze. Black encroached on Law’s vision as his lungs screamed for air. His head spun and Kikoku slipped from his weaking grip.

Finally, when Law thought he would pass out, Doflamingo released him.

Law gasped greedily for air as his legs gave out from under him and he brought both hands to his neck, wincing at the tenderness. Once his breath had returned to semi-normal, he looked up at Doflamingo.

“Never forget who holds your life and the lives of your crew, Law.” Again, he’d purposefully used Law’s name. “Now go clean yourself up.”

Law took a steadying breath and nodded. He grabbed Kikoku and used her to push himself unsteadily to his feet. “By your leave, Young Master,” he croaked, throat feeling like he’d swallowed broken glass, as he opened the door and stumbled into the hallway toward his room.

-----

Viola entered the Suit Room when Doflamingo summoned her; his meeting with Law must have ended already, as he was alone. She kept her eyes on the usurper as she approached, knowing why she had been summoned. She stopped a respectable distance in front of the Warlord.

“Doffy,” she greeted, bowing her head.

“Violet. You read Corazon upon his arrival.” It wasn’t a question.

“I did.” She’d been ordered to do so, and she followed her orders to keep her family safe.

“He says he doesn’t know why he saved Straw Hat.” Again, it wasn’t a question. Still, he was expecting an answer.

“True,” Viola confirmed. In Law’s memories, she’d felt the tug in his chest that had guided him, but he hadn’t understood what it was or what it was telling him. “He acted on instinct.”

Doflamingo frowned, looking out the window. “It’s not like him.”

“He’s been wondering about his actions since that day,” Viola said, hoping she might buy Law even the smallest amount of leniency if she confirmed his story. She kept the truth of Law’s name and its connection to the other boy to herself, though. He’d confided in her about that secret name years earlier and the danger he would be in if Doflamingo found out about it.

“Where was he?”

“Amazon Lily.” She couldn’t say she didn’t know something so prominent in his memories. “Boa Hancock seems to have a soft spot for Straw Hat Luffy.”

Doflamingo barked a surprised laugh at that. “Interesting.” He seemed to file that information away for later. “And his loyalty?”

“Unchanged.”

That much was true; Law, like Viola herself, hadn’t been truly loyal to the Family since she’d known him, but his desire for the safety of his crew and his willingness to do whatever it took to protect them had been a constant since he was 17 and newly arrived in Dressrosa. Saving Straw Hat Luffy hadn’t changed that.

Doflamingo smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “It seems he was honest with me, then.” He glanced back at Viola. “Keep an eye on him. Shouldn’t be hard since he enjoys your company.”

Viola frowned at the implication but quickly schooled her expression. “Of course.”

-----

When Law reached his room, he found his belongings had already been brought up from the Polar Tang. As he shucked off his clothes and hopped in the shower, he wondered where his crew was. Had they been allowed to return to their rooms? Shaking his head, he washed the travel from his skin and hair. Once clean, he wrapped a towel around his waist, and, on the way back into his room, caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror.

He grimaced, fingers lightly tracing the already-purpling marks on his neck. He knew the marks would be visible for days, and his voice would be rough for about as long. He could use his powers to accelerate the healing, but that would defeat the entire point of the exercise, and Law knew better than that.

Executives had to appear above reproach in the eyes of the public to keep up the illusion of their absolute power, so Doffy couldn’t punish him publicly, but the evidence of punishment would show Law’s actions had been dealt with. But Law also knew some ugly bruises around his neck wouldn’t be the only punishment; at this point, however, he could only worry about what would be done to his crew, as they were Doffy’s primary means of keeping Law in line.

With a scowl, he returned to his room and pulled some clothes nicer than his typical jeans and a hoodie that Doflamingo insisted he have for formal events from his closet. The fabric was light since Dressrosa was a summer island, and Law made sure not to choose anything that would cover his neck; Doflamingo, sadist that he was, would want his handiwork on display.

Grabbing Kikoku, Law gave himself a final once-over; satisfied, he left his room. He’d just turned the corner when he nearly ran headfirst into Baby 5. She opened her mouth, undoubtedly to snarl something unkind at him, but the words died on her lips as her gaze dropped to Law’s neck. Her eyes widened.

“What?” Law demanded, hating the rasp in his voice.

Baby shook herself before looking Law in the eye again. “The Young Master told me to find you. He’s waiting in the courtyard.”

Law frowned at that. He could have sensed Doffy himself with his haki; there was no reason to send Baby as a messenger—except to make sure she saw Doffy’s handiwork up close. Law ground his teeth but nodded at Baby.

“Thanks.”

She gaped at him as he stepped past her. “Seriously?”

Law paused with a tired sigh. “What?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Since when do you thank me, Corazon?”

Law rolled his eyes. “It won’t happen again if that’s the reaction I’m going to get.” He made to start walking again.

“Wait.”

Law stopped and looked at her expectantly. Baby swallowed and reached a tentative hand toward his neck. Law flinched but didn’t stop her gentle touch to the purpling handprints. Her fingers were ghost-light as she touched the marks.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly.

Law looked away, unable to deal with the genuine concern in her expression. “I’m fine.”

“Cora— Law.”

Law started and looked back at Baby. What was with people using his name lately? “What?”

“Just. Be careful. I don’t know why you did what you did, but the Young Master…” She trailed off, biting her lip.

Law took Baby’s hand in his grip, gently pulling it away from his neck, and nodded. “I know,” he said, not unkindly. He let go of her hand.

Baby dropped her hand and watched him, uncertain.

“I shouldn’t keep Doffy waiting,” Law said, and Baby jerked.

“Damn right, asshole,” she said, though her voice lacked any heat.

Law’s lips twitched and he headed for the courtyard, feeling Baby’s eyes on his back. When he entered the courtyard, Doflamingo appraised him. When he was satisfied with what he saw, gaze noticeably lingering on Law’s throat, he rose from his seat.

“There you are, Corazon. Come, we’re going out.”

Law nodded, ignoring Trebol’s knowing look. He didn’t speak, not wanting the sentient snot to hear his broken voice, instead simply falling in a half step behind Doflamingo, the appropriate place for his second. A carriage was waiting just outside the palace gates, and the two men entered and took their place across from one another.

Law remained silent as the royal carriage wound its way through the familiar streets of the capital, looking out the window and considering the direction they were taking.

“You haven’t asked where we’re going,” Doflamingo finally commented.

Law turned to the king. “Would you have answered?”

Doflamingo smirked, and Law had a feeling at least part of his amusement was at the sound of his voice. “No,” he allowed. “It’s a surprise.”

Law nodded, having assumed as much. He returned his gaze to the window, though his thoughts were with his crew and not the city they were meandering through. Violet had said Ikkaku, Clione, and Uni were unharmed, but how much longer would that last? What had happened to the rest of his crew once they’d disembarked the Polar Tang?

He was pulled from his thoughts when the carriage came to a halt. Law blinked when he realized where they were.

Law looked back at Doflamingo with a sinking feeling that he couldn’t explain. “The Colosseum?”

Doflamingo simply nodded and gestured toward the carriage door. “Let’s go.”

Law had little choice but to do as he was bidden, so he followed Doflamingo out of the carriage. The king was in his element as he greeted his adoring public. Law fell into place behind the other man and followed him inside to the king’s private box.

His hackles went up when he saw Diamante waiting inside the box. The executive gave Law an appraising look before nodding at Doflamingo. “Doffy,” he greeted. “Everything is ready.”

“Good.”

Doflamingo sat and nodded for Law to take the seat to the king’s right. Law did as he was bidden, and Diamante took his place to Doffy’s left. Law looked out over the amphitheater to see, as usual, a large crowd of raucous citizens. The Corrida Colosseum was the premier entertainment in Dressrosa, after all.

“Welcome to this special event at the Corrida Colosseum!” the commentator, Gatz, announced. “Today, we will see fighters from around Dressrosa get the opportunity to earn their freedom or even join the Donquixote Family by defeating a member of Corazon’s own crew, the Hearts!”

Next chapter

[honeyxmonkey]

When I Start To See You Different: Part 3; Broken Promises, Betrayal, Freedom, Confession

“Mom!” Rapunzel looked worriedly at her mom before turning a furious gaze on Varian. “Varian, let her go.”

Varian glared at her. “Yeah, no. She’s my leverage princess. Besides, you still need to help me.” He put a hand on the tarp that covered whatever large object lay in the middle of the room. “Ever bother to wonder what it was I came to you for help for? I was so desperate, begging you to help me and you tossed me into the snow.” She saw his expression go from anger to broken and sad.

She remembered him yelling something about Hugo… oh no. Was he hurt? Where was he? And where was Quirin? “Where’s Hugo?”

Varian looked to be on the verge of tears. He unceremoniously tore the tarp away from the object and Rapunzel gasped in horror.

Hugo was trapped in a sort of amber rock and he was reaching out, almost free. He looked terrified.

Varian looked at his friend with pain in his eyes. He put his hand over Hugo’s outstretched one. “I’m going to get you out, just hang on a little longer, please.” His whispers barely reached the royals ears. He turned back to them, trying to mask his obvious pain with smug confidence. “You, princess, are going to help me free him.”

“How?” Rapunzel asked in a shaky voice.

Varian rapped on the amber with his knuckles. “Unbreakable,” he picked up her hair. “Unbreakable.” He glared at her. “Point being, you’re his only chance. I’ve tried everything I could think of.”

“What about the flower?” Rapunzel watched his face morph into disgust.

“Unfortunately for you that flower no longer holds the power of the sun. It’s all in you now.” He stepped closer to her and held up the solvent that would get rid of the goo holding her down. “I want you to know I wish it hadn’t come to this. I wish there was another solution but there’s not.” He sounded genuine and Rapunzel almost wanted to believe that he was really at the end of his rope until he grinned maniacally. “Shall we get started.”

Frederick pointed his sword at Varian’s throat. “She’s not doing anything for you.”

Varian raised an eyebrow. “Oh, she will.” He took a step towards the queen, a beaker filled with a yellow chemical in his hand. “If I need to give her more of a reason I will.”

Rapunzel looked worriedly at the solution her former friend was holding. “What is that?”

Varian nodded his head towards the encased Hugo. “If you don’t want your mother to end up like him I suggest you help me.”

Rapunzel gasped. “Varian no!”

He paused and looked at her expectedly.

“Please don’t. I’ll help you free him, just, please don’t hurt her.”

Varian smiled. “I knew you’d come around. All it took was threatening the things you love the most.”

He walked back over to her, pouring the solvent on the goo and freeing her. He didn’t spare her another glance as he wheeled a drill over.

“I just have one more question.” Rapunzel watched as he wound the end of her hair around the drill’s tip. “Where’s your dad?”

Varian stopped and his shoulders trembled as he fought to hold back tears. “He’s gone. He left.” He stood and flipped some switches on the drill. “No more questions, let’s just get this over with.”

____

It didn’t work.

Varian collapsed in front of the amber, beating on it uselessly. “No! No, no- it-it should’ve worked! I-I wasn’t wrong. It’s not my- it’s not my fault.” He sobbed, hands curling into fists as he looked back at Rapunzel. He didn’t know what he was looking for, he just needed something, anything, but there was no one, there was nothing. Nothing for him to hold onto in the comfort he so desperately needed. “It’s her fault.”

____

As he was being led away in cuffs, Varian spared one more glance at his house, torn apart by the rocks.

“I swear Hugo I’m going to free you if it’s the last thing I do.”

____

In a cell again, with the person he didn’t want to be anywhere near. Varian doubted Rapunzel wanted to be here too. Especially with him.

“Varian, I-”

“No princess, don’t.” Varian curled into a tighter ball against the wall. “I know. I was trying so hard to do the right thing, but, it seems no matter what I do I can never make it.” He sighed and picked at his glove. “I’m sorry. I thought that if I helped you, that I could redeem myself and maybe-” he stopped. He didn’t want to think about it. There was no hope for Hugo. He’d accepted that a long time ago.

“Varian,” Rapunzel tried again, her voice soft and comforting. “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry for abandoning you and Hugo. I know it’s hard, and I know you probably hate me. I would too.” She stared at the ground for a moment. “I can understand why you turned to the Saporians for help. After you go through something like that, it’s hard to trust, hard to think it’ll get better and you want to run to the first sign of comfort no matter how bad the person giving the comfort might be.” She looked at him. “But, I’m willing to try and trust you again if you’re willing to trust me?”

Varian smiled. “Really?”

She nodded. “Yes. I’m not going to abandon you again. I promise.”

Varian’s smile grew. “Thank you.”

Rapunzel smiled at him too. “And when we get out of this, I think I may have a way to free Hugo.”

“What?”

She nodded. “It may not work but-”

“No, no!” Varian turned towards her. “I’ll try anything to get him back.”

The princess noted the desperation and hope in his eyes. And something else… aha. Love. She smiled again. “You love him, don’t you?”

Varian blushed and looked away. “Yes, I do.” He took on a soft smile and looked back at her. “And I would do anything to get him back.”

___

“Once I start, I can’t stop.” Rapunzel said, handing Varian a bucket of water. “It’ll be up to you to snap me out of it.”

Varian smiled. “You can count on me, Rapunzel.”

Rapunzel smiled too and began to sing.

Wither and Decay

End this Destiny

Break These Earthly Chains

And Set the Spirit Free

Over and over again the incantation rang out across the destroyed lab.

The amber prison started to fester and smoke and melt away.

Varian smiled. “It’s working. It’s working!” He laughed as the amber gave way and Hugo was being freed. He started to run forward to catch him but stopped and turned to Rapunzel. Varian looked at the water bucket in his hand and splashed it on her. When that didn’t work he tossed the bucket and tried to shake her but his gloves started to melt away. He started to panic. He held his bare hands to his chest and looked at the princess pleadingly. “Rapunzel? Rapunzel, please.” He took a deep breath. “You didn’t give up on me, I’m not giving up on you.”

In an instant she snapped out of it and dropped to the floor, her hair turning back to its familiar blond.

Varian crouched next to her, worry in his eyes. “”Rapunzel? You okay?”

The princess brushed her hair out of her face and smiled at him. Varian smiled too and hugged her tightly. “Thank you.”

He pulled away just as quickly and rushed to Hugo, sliding on his knees and capturing his disoriented friend in a hug. “Hugo!” He buried his face in the blond’s neck, laughing as tears streamed down his face. “You’re okay, you’re okay.”

Hugo was still pretty confused but wrapped his arms around Varian too. “Goggles?”

Varian laughed with tears in his eyes as he squeezed the blond a little tighter. He really missed that nickname. “Yeah, yeah it’s me Hugo.” He pulled back enough to look at him and smiled at seeing his beautiful and bright green eyes for the first time in a year. “I missed you.”

Hugo looked like he was starting to become more aware of the situation. He smiled at Varian and cupped his cheek. “I missed you too, Hairstripe.”

Varian laughed a little. Filled with euphoria and pure joy he leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. “Hugo, I found your note.” He cupped Hugo’s cheek, gently brushing his thumb over it. “I love you too.”

Then he kissed him. It was messy but exactly what they needed. Varian poured every single thing he’d felt during that year into the kiss. His pain, his anger, his passion, and his love. Hugo kissed him back with just as much passion as he held the younger alchemist closer.

When they broke it they stayed close and Varian let out a breathless laugh. “I love you, Hugo.”  He further pressed his forehead against Hugo’s. “I really really love you.”

Hugo smiled and kissed him again, this time alot softer. “I love you too.” He brushed Varian’s hair away from his face and the younger leaned into his touch. God he’d wanted this for so long. “Sorry it took me so long to tell you that Goggles.”

Varian smiled at the nickname. He gently put his hand over Hugo’s and kissed his palm. “I missed the nicknames.” He laughed. “I missed you.” Varian looked at him, a sadness lingered in his eyes but he smiled. “I am never letting you out of my sight again.”

Hugo laughed and hugged him. “I missed you too, Varian.”

Rapunzel watched their confession with a soft smile. She was glad they’d found eachother and she could see just how much they loved eachother. And if she had her way they would never be apart again even if it killed her.

She’d make sure of that.

____

Yeah, so this the end for now! I may do more they would all go on Ao3, so... yeah!

[canid-slashclaw]

The Outliers - A Guild Wars Love Story

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7,

Chapter 8 "Easy, son. We'll take this one step at a time. Just watch were yer walkin'," Daniel said to his son as they carried a wagon wheel over to the craftsman shed. "I'm fine, father. It would take quite a lot for my wounds to spring any leaks."

"That's what they all say until it happens. Exercise is good for mendin' the body. But the way you abuse yours, those wounds might not ever heal properly."

Kaleb helped his father hoist the massive wheel onto the augur then placed a securing pin through the vertical spindle. He looked over the array of tools then picked up one of the rawhide mallets and began vigorously tapping some wooden pegs into place.

"I'm just trying to get back into the fight, that's all. Once this thing heals, I'll be good as new," he said while pointing his thumb towards his back.

His father just shook his head and scoffed. "No question where you get your tenacity from, that's for sure."

"Hey. Once I'm done here, I would very much like to head on over to see Ulfgar. I haven't seen that old norn since before my deployment."

"He'll be delighted to see ya of course. Go right on ahead, son. I'll take care of things from here."

The elder Grimwald waved for his son to leave just as the youngest member came rushing out from the back kitchen door.

"Kaaaleeeb!"

"Katie! Hi sweetheart." His youngest sister rushed up to him then gave him a big hug.

"My goodness. You have the strength of a bear. Did some norn kid slip some animal spirit ale in your drink?" Kaleb laughed as he spun his youngest sister around. Within seconds, he winced in pain forgetting that the war wound was still quite painful.

But in spite of his injuries, he made absolutely sure to hold onto Katie as he gently brought her down to the ground.

"Awww. Does it still hurt? You don't need to spin me around if it hurts you."

He knelt down to look her in the eyes. "You don't hurt me one bit. I'm just a big, dumb brother who sometimes forgets his own limits sometimes. Isn't that right dad?"

Daniel smiled and waved to his youngest daughter then beckoned for her to come to him.

"C'mon, darlin'. Wanna help me fix up a wagon?"

She nodded then ran off to greet her father. Kaleb headed back inside to get into some better attire.

Several things had changed in the Grimwald household since Kaleb was away. For one, their family was one of the first to have indoor plumbing with hot and cold running water. And secondly, Rachel was taking a serious interest in attending one of the Asuran colleges in Rata Sum.

The warm shower felt so relaxing against his skin. A days' worth of grit and grime all washed away in a matter of minutes plus he never had to leave the house.

Warmth. He missed that sensation when she held his hands those five months ago. Her smile, although not human, was enough to bring a glow to his heart. Those amber eyes... how he longed for a chance to stare into them more deeply.

Kaleb closed his eyes as the steaming water streamed down his face. He could see her feline form lying on the bed, grooming herself. His mind began to wander, imaging other possibilities.

How would it be possible?

He pondered as he could feel his manliness rise to its fullest potential.

How would we be able to...

"Kaaaleeb. How long are you going to be in the bathroom?"

"Ahhh! Wait! Hold on just a minute Katie. I've gotta get dressed."

Jeese! Can't a man be left alone for just five minutes to contemplate carnal thoughts?

***

Kaleb headed to his familiar haunt, the Jotun's Corpse. If there was anyone in town who had connections to getting in touch with Amalthia, it would be him.

As he walked through the doors and towards his favorite barstool, he was immediately greeted by the mountainous norn who gave him the biggest, but one of the gentlest, bear hugs he had ever experienced.

"Welcome back to the lodge, boy! If I didn't know better, I swear I was looking at another norn."

"It's good to see you too, Ulf. So what makes you say that?"

"My boy. Tales of your ferocious battle have reached all the way to this humble watering hole. Normally I reserve bragging rights for myself, but today is your day."

The old norn grabbed a large copper goblet and spoon then started rapping the base of the drinking vessel with all his might. Everyone immediately took notice as the thunderous echo of his voice resonated throughout the tavern.

"Here ye. Here ye! Good denizens of Claypool. A newly minted town legend has returned and is standing before you today in these very halls. Kaleb Grimwald, a boy whom I knew since he was a wolf pup, has returned from a great battle and I am here to tell everyone of his heroic deeds."

"For it was those many months ago that he, and four of his bravest comrades faced and army of thousands of ravenous centaurs who were bent upon their total destruction. Did they falter?" Ulfgar paused then inclined his ear to the audience.

"NOoo!" The patrons shouted in unison.

"Did they shirk their duties?"

"NOo!"

"Were they victorious?"

"YESss!"

Kaleb stood there looking like a midget, compared to the norn, and just smiled. He knew that Ulfgar's days of adventure were long behind him and being able to tell a vicarious tale helped the old norn return to his glory days.

After the highly embellished account was finished and the merrymaking festivities had subsided, Kaleb sat down on his ever-familiar stool then soaked up as many lagers as his body could handle. He waited for a break in the revelry before asking the shaman about how to get in touch with a certain someone.

The old norn could sense that Kaleb had a question to ask so he went over and waved for the patrons nearby to leave. With the two of them sitting side-by-side Ulfgar folded his massive arms and smiled.

"What's on your mind, lad? You've got that I've-got-a-favor look on your face."

Kaleb knew that whenever Ulfgar referred to him as 'lad' it was on a much more serious and heartfelt note.

"First, I wanted to thank you for boasting about my heroic tale. And second, the numbers were just a wee bit inflated. It was hundreds of centaurs, not thousands."

"Bah. Just numbers. The people here know of your deeds and that is what they appreciate the most. Anyway, what was it that you really wanted to tell me?"

Kaleb traced the top of his stein with his left index finger before downing a draught. "Our suppliers were a couple of charr. The owner's daughter was the one who saved our lives. I just wanted to get in touch with her."

"Charrs, eh? Give me names, boy. That would be a good start."

"Let's see. The daughter's name is Amalthia. She has no last name since she's a gladium. And her father's name is Ludrick Crushsomethingorother."

"Crushblow! Centurion Ludrick Crushblow of the Fifty-First Blood Legion Brigade. Now that's a name I haven't heard mentioned by anyone in ages."

"So you know him?"

"Know him. Boy, he and I used to hang out all the time back during our great hunts. Every other week back when I lived just outside Hoelbrak, we could get together at the local pub and exchange some amazing tales. He's a good soul, lad. Don't let his fearsome appearance deceive you. He will stand by those who have honorable hearts," Ulfgar smiled as he took another drink.

"He always seemed like a grumpy old charr to me. But then, I never really got a chance to know him on a personal level like I did his daughter."

"Is that so? Well, what I can tell you is that there is more to him then you can possibly imagine. But in time, and if you are patient, you will learn these things."

"I hope to be that patient. By the way, what do you know about his daughter Amalthia?"

"Not much, I'm afraid. She was sent off to a fahrar before I really had a chance to know her. What I do know is that she was exiled from her warband for being unable to save one of her bandmates. It was supposedly due to her small physical size. Her warband leader blamed her for the death of their comrades and cast her out when she was nineteen. She's been living with her sire ever since."

"What about her mother? Amalthia mentioned her several times and in a none-too-good light I might add."

Kaleb downed the rest of his stein.

"Siri Blastfuse. Now that's a dam who has a heart as cold as Jormag itself. My advice - never cross her path."

"That bad, huh? I do know that Amalthia mentioned her mother more than once when listing off the negative things that went on in her life. She must have been a real bitch."

"Aaww. Now don't go insulting wolves that way, boy. My mother was Wolf Clan."

Kaleb looked at him sheepishly. "My apologies. I think the lager is taking effect. But I understand if you are unable to get in touch with her."

"No worries, lad. I'll find a way of keeping you and her in contact with each other."

"Good. If you can, I have a letter here that I've already written to her. If you can find a way, I would really appreciate it if you could forward it to her."

Kaleb handed the old norn a sealed envelope.

Tucking it into his shirt pocket, Ulfgar responded. "Consider it done, lad."

Feeling the effects of the alcohol, Kaleb tried to steady himself as he got up from his stool.

"Oh. One other thing... where is the nearest library?"

For the first time in their many years of knowing each other, Ulfgar was completely dumbstruck by the question. He scratched his beard for a moment with his fingers while pondering the question.

"Only one I know of is at the center of town. Why are you needin' a library for anyway?"

"Um. Learning new cooking recipes for when I get back into the army?"

"I think you've had too many lagers, boy. Go home to your folks and sleep it off. I promise it will all be better in the morning."

[a-little-international]

The Height Of Summer (9)

Summary: She’s a whirling dervish, and he’s trying his best to keep up.

Warnings: some angst and some fluff, what else is new.

Words: 3327

A/N: sorry for the long delay - i graduated uni and started working full time in the world’s most soul sucking corporate job that drained me of all inspiration and joy. Don’t worry though, i quit it without having anything else lined up (i’m v v worried lmao). Anyway, here’s some stuff.

The Series: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

Chapter 9 - Summer

“No, listen, hear me out - what I think we really need is Netflix or HBO to get on making a full Harry Potter show. Just throw a bunch of money at it, make a bunch of seasons, follow the books with absolute anal precision -”

“Aw, Jack, why’d you have to say it like that!” Paige exclaimed, throwing the pillow she’d been leaning against, at Jackson’s head.

“I absolutely agree,” Shawn said sincerely, cradling his guitar on his thighs with his fingers hovering over the strings, “give it the Game of Thrones treatment - could you imagine? I’d never watch anything ever again.

“You gotta pull some of your Hollywood strings, Shawnie,” Eli laughed, throwing a wink at Shawn.

“I’ll make sure to get my people on it,” Shawn winked back.

Summer smiled as she leaned her head back against his knee, basking in the laughter and chatter between her friends. They had all piled into her room after getting back from the picnic, all sunburnt and in good spirits. Paige, Molly and Eli had spread themselves out on her bed, Jackson was sitting in the alcove of her window, Shawn was lounging in the armchair next to her bed, and Maya was sitting curled up on Lewis’s lap on the other armchair. Summer, ever the generous hostess, had opted for the floor in front of Shawn. She rather enjoyed her position, as it allowed her to affectionately lean her head back against him, and she was almost certain she felt his fingers play with her hair absentmindedly when the others were talking, and nobody was looking their way.

“Okay but the most important question is what house everyone is in,” Lewis piped up, which was met with excited exclamations and laughter.

“I don’t think I even know what the houses are,” Molly said, pulling a face.

“I don’t either, babe,” Maya laughed in solidarity.

Lewis looked at his girlfriend with abject horror scrawled on his face, “Right,” he said matter-of-factly, “that’s it, we’re breaking up,” as he pretended to push her off his legs, catching her from falling at the last minute and pulling her back into him. Looking at them made Summer wish she could relocate into Shawn’s lap and wrap her arms around his neck and press her face against his.

“Well I’m definitely a Slytherin,” Paige said proudly, flicking her hair over her shoulder.

“Don’t we know it,” Jackson laughed, grinning as he rolled his eyes.

A sharp tap against the window pane sliced through the chatter and laughter, and the group exchanged confused looks with each other.

“Did you hear that?” Eli asked, brows furrowed.

“Is it raining?” Summer replied, looking at Jackson who was sitting in the alcove, his figure outlined by the dimming evening light.

Jackson craned his neck upwards to look for clouds when another sharp rap against the window rang out, and his head snapped downwards immediately. There was a pregnant pause as his hand came up to cup around his face to help him see out better, and then, “Um...Summer, you might want to go down.”

“What?” She replied, frowning, but her gut was starting to twist itself in knots as suspicion krept up on her.

Jackson turned around to look at her, and she didn’t miss the way his eyes darted to look at Shawn for a second, before returning to hers. In the beats of silence that passed, the tension she was radiating seemed to become palpable and she wished with her entire heart that he wasn’t about to say what she thought he was about to say.

“It’s Jesse, he’s downstairs,” Jackson said, stabbing into the anticipatory tension, and then, as if it couldn’t possible get any worse, he added, “throwing rocks at your window”.

A shiver ran up her spine and she was suddenly extremely aware that all eyes were on her, but most of all that Shawn’s eyes were on her and the feeling of her side resting against his legs suddenly seemed hard and uncomfortable and it made her feel sick. Jesse used to throw rocks at her window as a romantic thing, it was their little inside joke, to make her feel like she was in some sappy romance film. It was a rock thrown at her window during a weekend away at the cabins that had first brought them together, under the veil of darkness and shrouded in the secrecy of being with her brother’s best friend. It was the sign that they could be together, just the two of  them, and sneak away from the company of others. And now here he was throwing rocks at her window when she thought they had found some closure that same morning in the kitchen.

She wasn’t brave enough to look at Shawn as she stood up, confusion and shame and anger and anxiety all fighting for dominance in her stomach.

“I”ll be right back,” she said as she slipped out of her bedroom door, stopping to take a big breath in the hallway as she closed it behind her. She could hear the faint exchange of whispers amongst her friendship group and she wondered what they were saying, but most of all she wished she knew was Shawn was thinking.

Trying to sort out her inner thoughts and figure out what he wanted and what she could say to Jesse, Summer slowly descended the stairs and excited the cabin. She found him kicking at the dry grass and dirt below her window, the same way she had found him on countless other nights just like this one and she couldn’t help that her heart clenched a little at the sight. Glancing up to her window, she saw her friends peering down at her and Jesse, but Shawn didn’t seem to be with them.

“Hey.” She said, pulling the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands. “What’s up?”

Jesse looked up at her and shifted uncomfortably, fiddling with another small stone he was holding, “Hey, sorry about-” he said, showing her the rock, “I just wanted to talk but I didn’t want to barge in, when I saw Jack in the window I figured you had your friends round and stuff.”

“So you thought the best solution was to throw rocks at my window?” Summer hissed at him, crossing her arms.

Jesse shrugged, “I don’t know, it’s just the first thing I thought of.”

Summer rubbed her hands over her face in frustration, “What could you possibly want to talk about now, you already barged in at the crack of dawn this morning to have a conversation and I thought we said what needed to be said but now you’re throwing rocks at my window like nothing ever changed between us.”

“I guess for me it just doesn’t feel like that much has changed.”

“Jesse you broke up with me two years ago. You did, not me. You don’t get to-”

“No hear me out,” Jesse interrupted her as he took a step forward. “You know I still love and miss you, I told you as much this morning, and I get that this is all my fault and by God am I happy you’re happy and doing well, which is why I just wanted to make clear that I am doing well too and I hope someday soon I will be okay with what I did to us, to you. But I want you to be happy because I still love you.” 

“Jesse…”

“No listen, please, I was watching you all day today and I get it now. You’re happier now, happier than you ever were with me I think.”

“Jesse, come on now, that’s not true,” Summer said softly, taking a step towards him, wanting to comfort him and those sad ocean-blue eyes she had loved so much for so long.

“ I think it is, though. You and Shawn - you never had that shine in your eyes when you were with me.”

There was a long pause where Summer tried her best to process what he had just said to her, and then she remembered how happy she had been with Jesse and tried to compare it to how she felt around Shawn, and she struggled. They were two completely different things, two completely different boys - men, in fact - and also two completely different Summers.

She swallowed, her heart breaking for Jesse, even though he had been the one to break hers. “I don’t…” She struggled to find the words to explain how she was feeling, especially how she was feeling in regards to Shawn, and to find the words that wouldn’t cause any more hurt than necessary. “Shawn and I...well I don’t exactly know what we are at the moment, but I don’t want you thinking you didn’t make me happy Jess.”

She saw him swallow as he looked away into the darkening forest, his fingers still fiddling with the little black rock like it was a poker chip. “I hope I did make you happy, Sunny,” he said quietly, hesitantly using his nickname for her for the first time since the breakup. “But it’s not about happiness, I can’t explain it really, it’s just different the way you look at him. It’s like you are the sun and he is the moon.”

“That is so cheesy,” Summer said, closing her eyes as she tried to repress a smile.

Jesse laughed quietly, dropping his head, “I know,” he said, shrugging, “I just don’t know how to explain it. You just light up in a way you never really did with me.”

“But I loved you,” Summer said, suddenly feeling a little offended, as if he was undermining how much she had been in loved with him. She had always felt she had given her all to Jesse, thrown herself into everything they were together, and here he was standing in front of her telling her she looked more in love with someone she had known for hardly any time at all compared to how long they had been together.

“I know you did,” Jesse replied quickly, reading his hand out as if to touch her, but then pulled it back as if he thought better of it. “And I always felt that, your love, and I felt how much I hurt you when I did. But I mean when you’re with him...it just looks different, I don’t know, it looks right.”

“Right?” Summer frowned at him. She knew he meant well but he was also digging himself into a hole that she didn’t much appreciate. “So you think we didn’t look right?”

She knew she shouldn’t have said that as she watched Jesse’s face fall. In her heart she knew what he had meant, but it still grated on her and she couldn’t help herself.

“No, of course I think we did I just, what I mean is, if that you look really complete when you’re with him.”

And there he went again, digging himself into that hole she really wished he wouldn’t. Summer’s eyebrows flew up and before she knew what she was saying, the words had already left her mouth in a hushed rage, “Jesse Sullivan if you think I need a man to complete me, or try to imply in any way that I am in some may incomplete or broken then you have a new thing coming.” 

“Of course not, come on Sunny, please you’ve got to know what I mean. All I’m trying to say is that I won’t try and interfere or win you back or do all the things I really want to do because I can see that I can’t compare anymore and that is alright, and I will be alright.”

Summer took a deep breath, her frustrations deflating with each word he spoke. “And will we be alright?” She asked, looking up at him.

“Yeah, I think we will.” Jesse responded softly, tentatively pulling her into his chest and Summer allowed her arms to wrap around his broad frame as he rested his chin on top of her head.

She breathed into the hug, noting how he still smelled like the same Axe body spray he’d used when he was fifteen years old and half a foot shorter. Some things would never change, but one thing that had was that instead of craving his familiar smell, she now longed for the subtle scent of Shawn’s cologne and spearmint gum. Turning her head to the side, she moved her eyes up to her bedroom window, but found it empty with the lights turned off. She wondered if Shawn had ever come to the window, or if he had left her and Jesse alone once again. She felt Jesse press a kiss against the top of her head and she knew it was time to part, more certain than ever that it wasn’t his arms she wanted to be held by.

---

As predicted, her room was deserted when she returned, her hands still balled up nervously into her sleeves. She looked at the armchair that Shawn had been sitting in and swallowed. Slowly she backed out of her room, closed the door quietly behind her and walked to the end of the hallway where she stood outside of Shawn’s room once again. This time, unlike the night before, Summer knocked. It was soft but sure and she hoped more than anything that he would be there to open it and welcome her in.

A split second later the door swung open, as if he had been standing waiting for her on the other side.

“Are you alright?” he asked, and Summer lunged forward, wrapping her arms around him. “Hey…” he said softly, returning the hug and pulling her into the room, kicking the door closed behind her, “Hey, are you alright?”

Summer nodded against his chest, eyes closed tightly as she tried to hold back tears. She didn’t even know why she was one kind word away from bursting into tears, but she was so glad that he was there to open that door for her, to pull her in and to hold her. That faint smell of his cologne, that she had become so fond of from the first time she sat on his lap at the house party that seemed a million worlds away now, filled her brain and wove its way around her heart.

Before she knew it, Shawn was sitting on the bed with her cradled in his arms like a small child, her arms still wrapped around him and her face pushed into the crook of his neck. The faint sound of the crickets chirping outside and Shawn’s steady breathing were the only things Summer could hear and it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

“What happened?” Shawn finally asked, breaking the silence. He sounded hesitant and tense, like he was worried about the kind of answer she would give him and not for the first time did Summer feel guilty for pulling him into this situation.

She shrugged, pulling away to look at him, “Nothing really. He just wanted to make clear where we stood.”

“And where do you stand?” There was that tense anticipation in his voice again, and it made her heart rate pick up.

Summer forced herself not to break eye contact with Shawn, her dark blue eyes meeting his brown ones, darker than ever now that the sun had finally set and the only thing illuminating the room was the pale glow of the moon.

“He’s not going to try and get back together, he wants me to be happy...he’s happy for us.” Summer replied, the last part barely over an audible whisper, unsure of what Shawn’s response would be. It was once again another implication of what they were, when that had never really been established, both of them knowing how different their lives really were away from the cabins and in the reality of their respective careers.

“We’re an us?” Shawn asked, leaning back against the headboard, his hands slipping down to her hips.

It wasn’t exactly the response she’d been hoping for, there was no big smile or a passionate kiss, only a question. Summer swallowed, it was now or never. This conversation was bound to happen, the alternative was leaving it a forever open-ended question mark that would eventually allow them to drift apart without explanation or commitment. “I’m happy for there to be an us if you want there to be an us,” she said, sending the ball back into his court as she held her breath for his response. Her heart was beating so fast she was worried he’d be able to feel it.

Shawn just looked at her for a long time, which did nothing to calm her nerves, but his hands stayed on her hips and she thought that that at the very least was a good sign.

Finally, one hand lifted as he ran it through his thick hair, and Summer didn’t dare move an inch for fear of interrupting his contemplation. “Um,” Shawn started, barely looking at her anymore and her heart started to drop into the pit of her stomach. Suddenly she wished she’d allowed the question mark to keep hovering for a little while longer. “I would like there to be an us,” Shawn said, but Summer felt  the inaudible pressure of a ‘but’ hovering between them.

She looked at him and wanted nothing more than to reach up and touch his cheek, slightly flushed from sunburn or stress she couldn’t tell. She wanted to kiss him, to erase the tension and show him how good an ‘us’ could be, but still she didn’t dare move. The hand remaining on her hip gave it a light squeeze and she couldn’t tell if it was accidental or not.

“But it’s going to be hard,” he finally said, looking at her again with worry etched across his face. “It’s going to be so hard on you,” he went on, “so much harder on you than it will be on me I think and I don’t know if I can do that to you.” Shawn bit down on his lip and Summer felt the beginnings of tears sting at her eyes once more.

“I’m a big girl I think I can handle it,” Summer replied, trying her best to keep the tremble she felt in her throat to leak into her words.

“You’re very small,” Shawn laughed, moving both of his hands up to her waist and giving her a very purposeful squeeze, “but I’ll believe you can handle it if you say so.”

And with that her heart swelled three sizes and she returned his wide grin, balling the fabric of the hoodie he was wearing into her fists excitedly. Shawn leaned forward and gently pressed his lips against hers and it was like a whole new box of fireworks was let loose in her stomach all over again. It was only short and sweet, but it was perfect, and when he pulled away it was so minimal that their proximity remained intimate, his nose pressed against hers, his lips brushing hers, his spearmint breath against her. “Summer?”

“Hmm,” she hummed contentedly, closing her eyes to hold onto the moment between them and the feeling of his hands on her and his gentle voice cradling her name.

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” -

TAGLIST (lemme know if you want to be added!)

@crownedbyluke @24kcalum @divergentseagreengirl @carlaimberlain @5sosle @vnv21 @sayingloveat2am @tougherinrain @esmaaaa8 

[yoon-kooks]

Room 309

Pairing: pianist!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: fluff, college!AU, badboy!AU

Summary: Rumor has it, there’s one classroom reserved for making love during school hours. And somehow, you get yourself caught in the rumor along with the self-proclaimed bad boy, Min Yoongi.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex

You walked extra slowly to your most dreaded class, biology. It wasn’t that you hated the subject itself, but rather, you just hated the people you were stuck with for two hours. The snobby know-it-all, Kim Namjoon. The petty gossipers, Park Jimin, Kim Seokjin, and Jung Hoseok. The annoying guy who asked the professor too many questions, Kim Taehyung. The gamer who sat at the back of the class playing Overwatch every day, Jeon Jungkook. And of course, the bad boy of the school, Min Yoongi, whose smug, yet oddly handsome face, made you regret ever stepping foot into that class.

As a way to delay your inevitable fate, you drifted away from your usual path to class, passing classrooms you had never seen or known of. The art side of campus was beautiful, you discovered. Bright and bold posters, murals, portraits were displayed all along the walls in the halls, but nothing was striking enough to stop you in your tracks. That is, until you reached the music section of the art wing.

A faint melody lured you towards the piano room at the very end of the hallway. Something about the piano composition was melancholy, yet calm and deeply touching at the same time. Whoever was playing such a beautiful piece must’ve had a beautiful soul as well, you thought. You tried to peek inside to get a glimpse of the mysterious pianist, but the door was locked.

Not willing to give up so easily, you decided to wait and see if someone would come out before the next period of classes began. But the piano continued to sound with a new piece, just as pretty as the last one had been.

Just as the slow and soft melody came to a stop, you clapped silently to yourself and checked your phone for the time. You were too busy admiring the piano that you hadn’t realized your class had already started without you. With a regretful sigh, you walked away from the piano room to your biology class.

When you arrived to class, you tried to sneak in quietly in an attempt to avoid the Gossip Squad from noticing. The professor would simply ignore your tardiness, probably because she knew you were a good student with a legit reason for being late.

You couldn’t say the same for the boy who walked in right after you, with his smug face and earbuds blasting a rap in which you were pretty sure mentioned STDs. The whole class froze and stared as the two of you took your seats. To make things worse, the only empty seats were right next to each other, and the Gossip Squad would definitely have something to say about that.

“Wow, did you like, see Y/N and Yoongi come in together?” Hoseok scoffed.

“Not only did they come together, but they came in late together because they were probably too busy doing something else,” Jimin giggled.

“Is this another scandal of the rumored Room 309?” Seokjin was filing his nails.

“Ooh! I didn’t think goody-goody Y/N was into fuck boys like Yoongi.”

That’s because you weren’t into him. You rolled your eyes at the comment, although it did bother you that you were now part of another Room 309 rumor with Yoongi of all people.

Room 309 was basically where people fucked during school hours, or at least that’s what the rumors said. You didn’t know where the classroom was, nor were you interested in taking a visit there, but apparently Yoongi had been caught in there a bunch of times. It only made sense.

And now you were another name on a long list of people he had allegedly slept with.

Halfway through class, you gave up on listening to the professor’s monotonous lecture. You couldn't focus on taking notes anyway, since the Gossip Squad refused to quit whispering about you as Yoongi’s “secret lover”. Every time one of them would glance over to you, you’d glare back with an audible huff.

Suddenly you noticed a small folded paper had slipped onto your desk, not quite sure where it came from. You turned to your left, where Jungkook was in the middle of a heated Overwatch match. Couldn’t be him, you shook your head. You turned to your right, where Yoongi was watching you curiously. When he caught your eyes on him as well, he pointed at the paper, gesturing for you to open it.

It was a phone number. Just before you were about to crumple it into a ball and chuck it at the back of Taehyung’s head, a hand caught your arm. You gave Yoongi a look and mouthed, “What?”

He only motioned with his thumbs for you to text him. So you did, and you regretted it immediately.

3:34PM unknown “what”

3:35PM min fucking yoongi “are you a virgin?”

3:35PM Y/N “wouldnt you like to fucking know👹”

3:36PM min fucking yoongi👹 “im not asking bc i wanna sleep with you lmao”

3:37PM min fucking yoongi👹 “im asking bc it looks like somethings bothering your little virgin heart”

3:37PM min fucking yoongi👹 “its bc of the rm 309 rumor right?”

3:38PM Y/N “im not necessarily bothered by the rumor itself”

3:39PM Y/N “im just mad people think i slept with someone like you -_-”

3:40PM min fucking yoongi👹 “ouch im so hurt”

3:40PM min fucking yoongi👹 “well just fyi the easiest way to get rid of a rumor is to make it true”

3:41PM Y/N “im not gonna sleep with you😂😂😒”

3:42PM min fucking yoongi👹 “no one said you had to sweetheart”

3:42PM min fucking yoongi👹 “but if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me”

You seriously questioned why you had even bothered to text the boy in the first place. It was clear he only wanted one thing anyway.

As the lecture finally came to an end, you walked out of the class feeling so drained until a cute idea popped into your head. Since your classes were done for the day, you’d stop by the piano room again to see if the mysterious pianist was still there. Because you knew their music would certainly lift your spirit after a long day.

After grabbing your favorite Americano from the campus coffee shop, you headed over to the piano room where, sure enough, someone was playing a pretty ballad. You sat your ass down on the floor and rested your head against the wall separating you from the pianist.

It was a strange feeling. Even though you didn’t know the person behind the piano or what they even looked like, it was like love at first sound. And the romantic side of you knew that when you finally did see the pianist, it would be like meeting a lover, or at least a soulmate.

When the melody turned into a slow and soothing lullaby, you promised yourself to close your eyes only until the pianist switched to a new piece. But you were out a moment later.

-

“Y/N.” You felt someone shake your shoulder gently. Was it your soulmate?

Nope. As soon as you opened your eyes, you wanted to shut them because you certainly didn’t want Min Yoongi to be the first thing you saw when you woke up. Horrified, you almost knocked over your Americano.

“You’re actually here?” he was a mixed of confused and amused. “I was just joking about finding me here if you changed your mind, you know.”

You had no idea what he was talking about, but you suddenly noticed the piano playing had stopped. “Did you see someone leave from this room?”

“Why?”

“There was someone in there playing the piano,” you yawned. “And I really liked it… so I wanted to find out who was in there.”

“You mean you’re not here because it’s Room 309?”

Your eyes widened. Room 309? The piano room was the Room 309? You looked at the sign on the door that you had failed to previously take note of, and just as Yoongi had said, it was indeed Room 309.

“Wait, you have sex in there?” you asked with genuine innocence.

“According to the rumors, yes.”

“Are the rumors true?”

Yoongi paused before responding. He pulled out a set of keys and dangled them in front of you. “Wanna find out?”

“I’m not going in there with you,” you took an angry sip of your Americano.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to find out who was playing the piano in there?”

“Yeah, but…” you stopped yourself. Maybe this was your only chance to figure out who this mysterious pianist was. “Okay fine.” You picked up your Americano and stood up into a stretch as Yoongi unlocked the door to the piano room.

It was a lot tinier and cozier than you were expecting a piano room designated for sex to be. In fact, as soon as you stepped into the room, you forgot about the sex rumor.

At the sight of the baby grand, you gaped. It took up about a third of the room, but it was as beautiful as you had seen them on TV. Still in awe, you watched as Yoongi took a seat on the bench and offered you a hand to sit next to him.

“Do you play?” you asked in a soft tone, forgetting you were speaking with your worst enemy.

“A little,” his voice was soft as well. You had never noticed how soothing his raspy voice could be.

“Prove it,” you waited as the boy hesitantly lifted his fingers to the keys. For as confident of a fuck boy as he was, you wondered what was taking him so long.

Once he finally played the first bar of notes, however, you couldn't believe it. It was the same melody with the same intonation you had heard earlier that day. It was the same piece that you had admired and fallen in love with.

Min Yoongi. He was the mysterious pianist you had been waiting for all along. And that revelation simultaneously grossed you out and made your cheeks rosy.

“Why does everyone think you have sex in here?” you asked rather than showering the boy with compliments after he finished playing.

“Because they don’t need to know the truth.”

“You don’t want people to know you play the piano?”

Yoongi shook his head. “Not until I’m capable of reaching my goal.”

“World domination?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “When my music can make some kind of a difference in the world, I’ll let them know.”

A difference in the world, huh.

“You know, I used to think you were just a fuck boy who listens to songs about STDs.”

“Thanks, I get that a lot.” He also mumbled something about A to the G to the U to the STD but you ignored it.

“But, it turns out you’re a fuck boy who wants to use his music for the good of the world,” you said. “And for people to find joy and happiness when they listen to your piano.”

“That’s me.”

“Yoongi.”

“Yeah?”

“Can I come here again?” you blushed. “Just to listen to you play?”

“You like my music that much?”

You nodded.

“Of course.” You only caught a glimpse of Yoongi’s cute gummy smile before it turned into the smug face you hated. “But on one condition.”

“For the last time, I’m not sleeping with you,” you rolled your eyes.

“Not that,” he laughed. “I want you to give me feedback on my music, or shower me with compliments. Also, can I have your Americano?”

“Oh… okay,” you half-lied, handing him your drink. Sure, you didn’t mind giving feedback on his music, but there was no way in hell you’d compliment Yoongi himself. At least not for now. But if the time ever came when he needed someone to really lift his spirit, you’d be there to heal him just as his music had done for you.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he took a long sip of your Americano. “And don’t worry about the rumor. I’m sure it’ll be true some day.”

“But not today~!” You swiped your drink out of Yoongi’s veiny piano fingers and ran out of Room 309 with a giggle.

[mixtapekings]

Listen Review of Run The Jewels’ ‘RTJ4’ Album by djbooth.net

“…a shotgun blast to the face.”

Run The Jewels thrives on the spirit of rebellion. The duo, consisting of Atlanta rapper Killer Mike and New York rapper/producer El-P, has grown from indie one-off to one of the most impressive second winds in rap history. Their music finds the middle ground between cartoonish purist rap thrills and anarchic grit. At their very best, Mike and El-P will have you ready to burn everything in sight.

While RTJ’s music has always maintained an anti-establishment bent, the aggression on their 2016 album Run the Jewels 3, in particular, was channeled through the prism of revolt. In the wake of the deaths of Trayvon Martin and Michael Brown and the election of the 45th President of the United States, RTJ’s lawless spirit made them, however unintentionally, uniquely suited to address a world coming apart at the seams.

In the face of Armageddon, RTJ’s message hit differently. Four years later, with another wave of protests taking place in response to Black death looming large over the world, Run the Jewels are offering their fourth album, aptly titled RTJ4. 

The public needs music directly speaking to the times. Mike and El’s timing is perfect; the stakes have never been higher. Let’s see if the Jewel Runners are up to the challenge.

In usual 1-Listen fashion, the rules are the same: no rewinds, pauses, or skips—a straight shot through followed by my gut reactions. Let’s ride.

1. “Yankee & The Brave (ep. 4)”

Killer Mike opening with DaBaby speed. Man, these drums are THUMPING. “I’mma terrorize the actors playing like they want some drama.” No holds barred. Mike and El-P play rap hot potato like no other. El is floating. “I’m ready to mob on all these charlatans.” The beat sounds like a John Carpenter score stripped for parts and hooked to some boomers. “I can’t let the pig take me, I got too much pride / I meant it when I said it, never take me alive.” This exact energy is what I was hoping for. Revolt music right off rip. No brakes, all nitrous. “Yankee & The Brave” is how you open an album.

2. “Ooh LA LA” feat. Greg Nice & DJ Premier

Did El-P source his drums from fucking mortars? These boys are monstrous. El’s beats are big enough to walk through. I don’t like this hook. Greg Nice’s voice is grating. “When we usher in chaos, remember we did it smiling.” They may be smiling, but Mike and El sound pissed. “Ooh LA LA” isn’t playful music; it’s angry. This song doesn’t leave me shaking the way “Yankee & The Brave” did, but it’s still a nice jolt of catharsis. Premier scratches are always a plus. I’m glad he’s still so revered by rappers across generations.

3. “Out of Sight” feat. 2 Chainz

El-P made a beat out of jumping vocal cuts that would sound at home on a post-apocalyptic workout tape. He never fails to impress. I love hearing references to Public Enemy’s “My Uzi Weighs A Ton.” Mike and El are trading off lines. “I’m only doing what I want by hocking loogies at the swine.” I see why they wanted to push this project up two days. Forget “F*ck The Police,” this is FUCK THE FUCKING COPS. Mike caught a CRAZY flow and held onto it forever. The energy is stabbing me in the chest. If you’ve ever downed a bag of Pop Rocks with nails inside, then, and only then, will you understand the power of “Out Of Sight.” Here comes 2 Chainz. One mention of growing up in poverty, but the rest of his verse is just soulless flexing. It’s not 2 Chainz’ fault, but I’m not tryna hear his verse right now.

4. “Holy Calamafuck”

A reggae sample to start things off. And everything just devolved into a 404 error. The beat is actively falling apart. A line about jacking Supreme jackets and calling out hypebeasts. Are those record scratches or Windows 95 program glitches? I can’t keep my head straight. A line about drones and time elves. “Every other goddamn year I’m brand new / It’s been 20-plus years, you think that’s a clue?” TALK YOUR SHIT, EL. Since the Def Jux days. Mike and El stood the test of time, gotta respect it. These two were born to rap together. “PTSD, streets did the damage.” Mike is pouring his heart out. If the streets run red with blood, “Holy Calamafuck” will be the soundtrack.

5. “Goonies vs. E.T.”

These drums and synths were sourced from space. Mike and El are rapping for their lives. “Goonies vs. E.T.” is pure fucking chaos. How did they keep their heads together recording over this beat? E.T.’s healing touch couldn’t help them. The hook’s not doing much for me—it feels like dead space—but the beat is breathing. Man, this shit is manic. I’m on a sugar high. “The revolution is televised and digitized.” All facts. Mike has one of the most potent rap voices. I can’t see his face, but I know there’s fire in his eyes. “This is people with an attitude in Beverly Hills.” Making people uncomfortable is progress.

6. “Walking In The Snow”

A nice crunchy guitar riff to incite more chaos. The beat just cracked open, and now it sounds like a fucking Tesla coil. I feel more compelled to type the word “fuck” than I ever have during a review. “All oppression’s borne of lies.” El has been talking that talk all across this shit. El sounds like a preacher. “Just got done walking in the snow / Goddamn that muhfucka cold.” Who’s rapping on the hook? OH SHIT, IT’S GANGSTA BOO. Nice surprise. OG needs more love. “Every day on the evening news, they feed you fear for free.” Mike is laying everything out. “I can’t breathe.” That line really hurt. “The most you get is a Twitter rant and called a tragedy.” He’s just talking at this point. Brutal. I know he was fighting back the tears rapping this one. The beat is mutating like crazy. I can’t keep up—breathless rap music at its finest. I love love LOVE this song, holy shit.

7. “Ju$t” feat. Zach De La Rocha & Pharrell Williams

It’s the famous four-count! Pharrell must’ve had a hand in production along with El-P. Pharrell’s voice doesn’t fit into the cracks of this hook; it’s distracting. “Look at all these slave masters posing on your dollar.” Mike is doing call-and-response with himself. He’s talking about corporations co-opting marijuana and pedophiles in high places. “Confuscious say you’d better thug out.” That got me. El has a thing for turning voices into drum patterns. These beats are fun but they will also turn around and rip your throat out if you try them. Here comes Mr. Rage himself, Zach De La Rocha. His voice cuts through everything. I love how analog his voice sounds. He sounds fired up. I’ll take another Rage Against the Machine album, please. Without Pharrell, “Ju$t” would be close to perfect.

8. “Never Look Back”

A little techno bounce to start “Never Look Back.” All I can see in my head is Tron light cycles burning digitized vapors. Was that a Pop Smoke bar? His death still hurts. Mike and El managing to rap about current events and not sound lame is amazing. No other rapper their age could pull off a TikTok bar. Mike is rapping about his mother. Did she pass? Man, that’s heavy. So that’s why it’s called “Never Look Back.” “All that matter is gratitude. Gratitude is everything.” Who’s speaking right now? Can’t make it out. El is talking about how he never saw class or race as a child. Mike follows with, “Never look back, you’ll only be bitter / If you get bitter, you’ll never get better.” They’re confronting demons. RTJ4 feels as immediate and punchy as Mike and El’s respective solo work. Ending with a ticking timer, always coming through with the relief.

9. “The Ground Below”

Is this nu-metal I’m hearing? These guitars and smashing drums are super silly, even by RTJ standards. They rapping, though. “Screaming fuck the world and you can drink what’s coming from my urethra.” El always knows how to rap familiar shit differently. “Not saying it’s a conspiracy but you’re all against me.” Funny. A weird melange of sounds and images, and I’m not sure what to make of it. The raps are crazy, and the beat is kinda growing on me. Easy to believe them saying, “The money never meant much” when they’ve been giving out their albums for free since 2013.

10. “Pulling The Pin” feat. Josh Homme & Mavis Staples

Okay, last two tracks. If you’re gonna name a track “Pulling The Pin,” there’d better be an explosion. Ominous marching and some warbled vocals. “These old foxes got a lot of plots to outfox us.” El hit that Aesop Rock flow real quick. Those chorus vocals are ghostly. Josh Homme is a name I haven’t heard in a long time. Shout out Queens of The Stone Age. “Every cage built needs an occupant.” Is that Mavis Staples? It is! Her vocals are so rich. Staples finding space in this interstellar mayhem is wild. Mavis is my favorite feature so far. There’s much less frivolous shit-talking this time, especially from Mike. “Kicking and screaming while watching the demons collecting the gold and the diamond residuals.” Career-best rapping from Mike. More Mavis, thank God. “There’s a grenade in my heart.”

11. “A Few Words for The Firing Squad (Radiation)”

RTJ4 has been a ride. Ending with the firing squad can’t be a good sign. El starts with a short tribute to his wife. Touching. Mike back to rapping about asking his mom to cling to life. His kids, his wife, and his craft have made him a better man. These are death-bed confessions set to music. Mike and El must be rapping blindfolded, standing in front of the wall and the firing squad. Heartbreaking. “Last word to the firing squad was ‘Fuck you, too.’” Kicking and screaming. It sounds like we’re going out with a big instrumental explosion—saxophone, brass, and reverbed synths and choirs. This is BIG.

Where do Mike and El find the energy to keep expanding their sound like this?

Oh, we’re not done yet.

A narrator is laying down the story of two rebels forced together by the odds. They’re still running with this Yankee & The Brave angle. It’s playing like an end credits song. So… The whole thing’s been a TV show? I’ll admit, this takes away some from the immediacy of Mike and El’s message.

Final (First Listen) Thoughts On Run the Jewels’ RTJ4:

Run the Jewels dropping their fourth album in the middle of a global pandemic and a nationwide uprising is perfect.

The duo crafted a potent mix of braggadocio and political and personal reflection set to beats made for video game boss battles. Both Mike and El deliver career-best work behind the mic, and El-P’s production has only grown more expansive.

Golden-era boom-bap (“Out of Sight,” “Holy Calamafuck”), and murky synth-scapes (“Never Look Back”) are flayed and split open to create digitized warzones. They’re as frantic and restless as the rappers pushing them to their limits.

From beginning to end, RTJ4 is a shotgun blast to the face; an album to turn up to 11 while the precincts burn. Pent-up emotions shoot through every bar, every beat, and every second of breathing room. The anti-police sentiment couldn’t be more timely.

The only time the momentum drags on RTJ4 is when other voices cram into the frame. Several features are either inappropriate (2 Chainz on “Out of Sight”) or distracting (Pharrell on “Ju$t”).

Unintentionally, the running motif of the Yankee & The Brave TV show stifles some of the immediacy from Mike and El’s best verses to date. Maybe the TV show angle will age better in a world where the president didn’t just declare war on his fellow citizens.

Minor missteps aside, Mike and EL understand the stakes at hand. RTJ4 mixes the punchy and the profoundly personal with cartoonish zeal, EPMD by way of Adult Swim’s Superjail! 

Politically and musically, Run the Jewels are done asking for favors. RTJ4 is five-finger discount rap at its finest.

from Listen Review of Run The Jewels’ ‘RTJ4’ Album by djbooth.net