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#another victim of the seagull
4rtificialfolio · 2 months
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It’s complicated, my darling - The Prologue
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“Ada is an operative in the 1940s from Brighton in England, sent over to New York City to work with the Americans, uncovering secrets and spying on potential suspects. She meets a handsome young man, Nick Folio, on the train into the city; little does she know how that moment would change the trajectory of her life”
Parings: Nick folio X OFC
Word count: 1.4K
Chapter Warnings: brief hinting at death, explicit language
Series master list
(see masterlist for overall warnings, chapter begins below the cut)
Ada
May 19th 1941
New York City, USA
8:23 am
Dear Diary,
Spring is coming any day now, the chill has died off and flowers are beginning to bloom, but I’ll say the air here in America feels a bit thicker when you’re not by the sea. Oh, I miss the seaside, Dad says they closed the beaches back in Brighton last year after Dunkirk, it was too dangerous to keep them open. It’s a shame, our Peggy loved the beach. We used to buy her a 99 and take a walk down the pier watching the seagulls nick a chip out of an unsuspecting victim’s hand. This one time, Peggy laughed so hard she dropped her ice cream and made me and the old man march back down the pier to buy her a new one, just to do the walk up the pier all over again. I would give anything to see her smile again but for now, it’s back to business aye? 
Speaking of business, my dick of a boss, John, back in England assigned me a new mission yesterday. Something about money being stolen from one of the precincts in the city? I'm not sure, I haven’t gotten all the details yet but I guess I’ll find out more in today’s briefing at the head office. 
Anyway, must be off. My train into the city should be here any minute now and God knows my grumpy sod of a boss will have my head if I’m late to another meeting. 
Talk soon.
__________________
“Excuse me, ma’am, would you mind if I sit here? All the other seats are taken”
You avert your eyes from the book you’ve been engrossed in for the past 10 minutes; “The So Blue Marble” by Dorothy B. Hughes, a truly riveting thriller novel. Bookmarking your page, your gaze meets the handsome young chap standing before you.
“Oh yes of course, please, sit down” He’s a rather handsome fellow, clean-shaven with his hair slicked with a side part, perfectly framing his chiselled jaw. Heat flushes across your cheeks and you can’t help but feel a little flustered as he takes a seat in front of you.
“Thank you, Ma’am” He extends his arm for a handshake.
“Please, call me Ada”
“A pleasure, Ada” You can’t help but notice his peculiar accent, it appears to be a southern accent of sorts but you can’t quite place it.
“Is that a southern accent I hear- oh sorry, I didn’t ask your name?”
“Ah no, Maryland although I do get that a lot, and no worries. The name’s Nick but everyone calls me Folio” You tilt your head ever so slightly at the nickname, wondering how that came to be. As if he already knew your next question, he smiles.
“My surname Is Folio, there’s another Nick amongst my friends so over time I just became Folio”
“Aah makes sense. Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Folio” You flash a smile, trying your best not to blush too hard.
“Judging by your accent, you’re from England I assume? What brings you to America, New York City at that?”. It’s the dreaded question you always fear to answer. Although you’re trained to lie, to be deceitful, you can’t help but feel a little guilty each time you respond to that question. It’s not easy to live your life pretending to be someone you’re not, half of the time you’re not even sure what’s real anymore; but that’s the job. Everyone is doing what they can to help the war effort, you included and if that means putting up a facade each day, then so be it.
“My family evacuated from England, we would’ve gone to Canada but my brother is deployed here in the States” You feel your heart drop to your stomach. This isn’t a complete lie; your mother and youngest sister, Mary and Agnes, did evacuate from England, but the ship carrying them to Canada took a devastating blow and ultimately sunk; the total casualties are still unknown. No one knows the whereabouts of your brother, Dennis. You received a telegram in July last year to notify that he was M.I.A when he didn’t return to base with his aircrew. So, no, it wasn’t a complete lie but you have to carry the sadness on your own.
“So, what will a gorgeous lady like you be doing in the city? ” He leans forward on the table, raising his left eyebrow. His words make your heartbeat speed up a million miles an hour. Of course, he doesn’t know the real reason you’re in the city but a little fun can’t hurt, right?
“I’m looking around for a job but most businesses are shut and I’m not first aid trained, so that’s pretty much any job out of the question” Another lie.
“Well, I can’t give you a job but If you ever want some company, please feel free to come down to the 13th precinct. I’d be happy to keep you company” His flirtatious manner doesn’t go unnoticed, nothing overly forward but enough to make your face burn up. A high-pitched whistle blows outside of the train and it isn’t until you see passengers standing up collecting their belongings from the overhead shelves that you realise you’ve reached your destination. You both walk off of the train onto the platform, pushing through the crowd of busybodies.
“Well I must be going, I’ve got some job interviews lined up today. It was lovely meeting you, Folio”
“You too, Ada. Good luck with the interviews, I’m sure you’ll find something soon”. Folio, once again, extends his arm for a handshake. Saying your goodbyes, you make your way along the path towards the north exit gate but your attention is averted as you hear that familiar, not-so-southern, voice.
“I hope you take me up on that offer, Ada!”. He bellows. Turning on your heels, you chuckle thinking about the gorgeously mysterious man you just met.
__________________
“Ah right on time Chapman, makes a change. I was beginning to wonder if that pretty face of yours knew how to tell the time” Alfred, your other male chauvinist pig of a boss, says as you walk into the meeting room.
“Morning Alfred, Sir” Oh how you’d love nothing more than to punch his disgusting, smug face, but you need this job and you need the money, especially if you want to get your dad and Peggy over here in the States.
“As John mentioned to you yesterday, he has assigned you a new mission. The higher-ups believe that someone in the 13th precinct is stealing money from their funding-”
“Sorry to interrupt you, sir, but did you say the 13th precinct?” This can’t be possible, surely not?
“For fuck sake Ada, maybe if you spent less time dressing like a whore and more time paying attention you would’ve heard me. Yes, I said the 13th precinct now shut up and listen” Anger rises through your body as he berates you in front of your team, but you take a deep breath, reminding yourself not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
“Sorry, sir. Please continue”
“As I was saying, you will be tracking one man. We believe he is acting alone, stealing money to put into an offshore account. You will be working at the precinct undercover as an accountant, you will need to keep track of all the money that goes in and out of their accounts. You’ll be given a written brief with more details. Make sure to read it thoroughly after the meeting ends, if that’s even possible for that empty fucking head of yours. We will go over the target’s name and description so everyone is aware of exactly who the suspect is”. Annie, Alfred’s assistant, hands out copies of the brief around the table.
Flipping over the first page, which details the goal of the mission, you see the name of the suspect.
“Fuck” Is all you can mutter out under your breath as you stare at the page, mouth agape in disbelief.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” There’s no denying the name and image that’s staring right back at you. Is this a sick joke? A punishment for leaving your family behind?
“Billy, can you please read out the suspect’s name and character description” A part of you still hopes that you’re imagining what you’re seeing in front of you.
“Nick Folio, sir”
There’s no such thing as fate, but the universe has a funny way of deciding it for you.
________
AN: i genuinely loved writing this first chapter. I hope you guys will love this story as much as me, please let me know your thoughts! also please let me know if you’d like to be tagged for each chapter :)
reminder my inbox is always open if you’d rather send your thoughts anonymously (no fic requests)
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crescentblossom66 · 13 days
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Mafia Party!
The second of the two fics that I submitted to @anachronism-ahitzine Check out the other artists and their amazing pieces.
The gentle noise of waves drifting to shore and the squawking of seagulls that were normally so prevalent among the hardly busy port of Mafia Town, were now being drowned out by the loud honking of three incoming cargo ships, a rarity, as the small port usually only await one ship per day. The Mafia aboard all looked merry, as they slowly docked the ships and unloaded their cargo, working a lot harder than they normally would. The burly men were even humming a song, which would have been ear grating to others due to them being notoriously off-key, but none of them seemed to be bothered by that as they lifted the heavy crates and brought them over to the marketplace. One Mafia Goon seemed to be confused by the word “Kidney” being on the crate that he was carrying and started to make his way toward the black market with it, only to be stopped by his fellow Mafia. “Fellow Mafia is going the wrong way, we bring crates to marketplace.”
“Label says 'Kidney', we don't need kidney at festival.” Another of the men pointed at the other side of the crate.
“Label reads 'Beans', beans need to be brought to kitchen.” With confusion, the Mafia Goon that carried the rather vexing crate turned the wooden box and held the crate with one hand, scratching his bald head with the other.
“Mafia confused. What is crate containing, bean or kidney?” A more active and impatient goon decided to enforce a simple rule that their boss made up 'When in doubt or confused, simply punch the problem', so he did just that and punched a hole into the top of the crate revealing kidney beans, which resulted in a collective “Oh!” from the confused men.
When the group reached the marketplace, the preparations were well on their way. A few Mafia were standing on very puny-looking stools to hang up garlands, others were preparing a pyramid of wooden barrels for one of the main attractions of the festival, which was adequately yet plainly named 'Mafia Arrival Day', which was held every year in commemoration of the day they overtook what was formerly known as the City of Calcite and Adventure, or simply Calcite City for short. A group of them were straining to put up the golden statue of their leader, they had tied ropes to it, and were trying to make it stand upright. Due to their high strength it was fairly easy for them...but what they had in brawn they certainly lacked in brain, as the statue was now upside down, it's feet in the air.
“What is this?! Can't you do anything right?!” The boss of the Mafia arrived to inspect the preparations and was furious to see that they had somehow flipped his statue-self. “Put it upright, now!” He stomped his foot in anger at the incompetence that he had to deal with every single day, not even the jolly atmosphere or the beautiful, sunny day, brought him into a better mood. The Mafia men hurried to fix their error, when the statue landed on its side with a loud clang, he grit his teeth and let out a screech that made the blood in the bald men's veins run cold.
“Sorry boss, Mafia couldn't read instructions because of other Mafia dropped it in water. Ink got very messy, make everything look like chicken-scratches.” One of them explained, but their boss had none of it. Even if their boss was a lot smaller than the other Mafia, he had glare that was piercing their souls. “Don't glare at Mafia, please, Mafia want to keep soul. Mafia not want to end up like victims of eerie ghost in Subcon.”
The boss of the Mafia raised an eye brow in confusion, not really sure what his subordinate was talking about, but whatever it was seemed to have greatly disturbed not only him, as he could see some of the other Mafia Goons shaking. “Pull yourselves together, men! We won't be afraid of some apparition! I- I mean, we, will soon rule the whole planet!” The smaller man flashed a smile and stood rather proudly, his cockiness almost became his downfall as he barely dodged a huge meat one a bone that came barreling down the road and nearly flattened him on its way. “Concentrate, you morons! You'll ruin the whole festival!”
As the sun started to slowly set in the horizon, the marketplace of Mafia Town was finally ready, the garlands were all in place...albeit a little crooked, the barrels were organized, more or less, some somehow ended up on the floating platforms that none of them had access to, and the statue was placed the right way up this time. The majority of the Goons had decided to relax at the beach, one of them even brought a grill to serve grilled fish and hamburgers, he even managed to only burn himself twice this time! Other Mafia have turned in for the night while others were watching their favorite shows on TV. Everyone was relaxing after the hard day of work, but their leader was still out and about, making sure that faucets were all tightly closed, preventing the lava from flowing. It was the one job that he really didn't trust anyone with but himself, given the track record of his rather intellectually challenged men, it was likely a very smart move on his part.
As soon as the sun started to rise the next day, the normally rather relaxed and more or less easy going Mafia Goons rushed to the marketplace to light the torch on the hand of the statue of the Mafia Boss, which signaled the start of the holiday. The festivities were started off with the first of the three activities, the race! The starting point and end were different each year, but this year, the race would start in the back alleys and go all the way to the beach. The Mafia that were not participating watched their boss make his way to the white line to start off the race. If asked why he never participated, it was due to the fact that he would easily win, no question, so he deemed it unfair to his fellow Mafia. (The slightly smarter members of the Mafia knew however, that it was simply because he hated losing) As there wasn't really a requirement to how the participants needed to get from point A to point B, some found rather unconventional means of transportation. One stuck to the original way, opting to simply run to the goal, while the second was using a meat on the bone that he was balancing on top of, while the finally Mafia Goon was using...a rocket.
The Mafia Boss was nearly flattened once again, when he gave the signal to start, and the meat on the bone nearly crushed him. A 'Sorry, boss!' was heard when the Mafia realized his mistake and heard the growls of frustration that came from the short, red-clothed man. The Rocket Goon apparently had trouble starting his risky vehicle and jumped off of it kicking it once and recoiling as he came to realize that kicking solid steel was quite painful. “Stupid rocket, start!” He yelled at it, to no avail. The burly man scratched his scalp, contemplating what to do, meanwhile, the running Mafia and the balancing Mafia were a quarter and half way to the finish line respectively. “Wait Mafia forgot important item Mafia need fire to start rocket.” He checked all the pockets on his person, even his breast pocket which had a pink handkerchief in it, thankfully for the Rocket Mafia, none of onlookers seemed to have noticed this rather unmanly item. In a moment of brilliance, very uncharacteristic of the bald men, the Rocket Mafia realized that he could get a fire easily from the statue! The way to and from the marketplace took the risk-taker so long, that his competitors were already close to the finish line...one at least. Despite going at a moderate 3km/h (1.86 mph), the exhausted Mafia, that was using his own two legs, was still far ahead of the other that had an issue with getting his unconventional means of transportation past a bridge, as the huge piece of meat was way too big to fit on it.
With a loud bang and a cloud of black smoke that left the audience covered in soot and ashes, the man on the rocket indeed became the fastest man alive, gaining more and more speed as he made his way to the beach. 'Mafia fastest man alive, Mafia easily win race!' were the men's thoughts as he tried to smile while trying not to fall off what was clearly the most Mafia of all vehicles! His smile, however, quickly faded when he dashed way past his goal and out to sea. It was at that moment that he realized that his plan was very flawed.
Some of the Mafia at the beach were in awe, watching the Rocket Mafia get smaller and smaller on the horizon, while some of their fellow Goons were congratulating the Walking Mafia on his victory.
Between the first and second major activity was a time to just relax and enjoy the day, enjoying the island that they had forcefully taken away from the previous inhabitants. Some Goons were relaxing by the fountain in the marketplace, chatting while looking at the sloppily placed decorations. Others took the chance to enjoy some food in form of grilled fish, hotdogs, and steaks that had the face of their beloved leader carved into it. Miraculously, not a single man died of food poisoning that day.
The second contest of the day was the barrel throw. It was held on the marketplace and used the barrels from the pyramid they had prepared the day prior. The Goons from the casino had opened a stall, where the Mafia in the audience could place bets on their favored contestant. When the first contestant grabbed a barrel and barely managed to lift it, the audience erupted in laughter. “Come on, son, make Mafia proud!” One of the men shouted from the sidelines, trying to cheer the young Mafia on, before turning his head to the person next to him. “Mafia know son is too weak to win, never strong enough to punch even old lady, but Mafia is trying to be good father. Mafia told son that he has chance to succeed, but Mafia know son never succeeds, son must learn lesson, builds character.”
The young Mafia threw the barrel as far as he could...but only managed to toss the heavy wooden object a meter. (3.3 feet) far. He sighed and hung his head as he walked off, feeling like he had failed his father. Nobody doubted for a second that the second contestant, an average looking Mafia Goon, would easily throw the barrel further. He likely would have done so...if the general clumsiness, inherent to most Mafia, hadn't caused him to trip and drop the barrel right on his foot, which resulted in everyone breaking out into hysterical laughter yet again. A very muscular Mafia Goon, with a comically large torso and in comparison very stubby legs, had easily garnered the favor of everyone present, even the Mafia Boss had placed his bet on the man. He lifted the barrel as easily as one would pick up a small pebble, and readied himself to throw it way out of bounds of the contest. Victory was far from his grasp, however, when a flock of seagulls decided that it was payback time for one of their brethren, that the muscular Mafia had punched for trying to get a fish for their kid. He flailed around as the vindictive birds swarmed him and bit him, causing him to drop the barrel behind him, netting him negative points.
Everyone was quiet for a moment, in utter disbelief of what had just happened, until one burst out in laughter and the others joined...aside from their boss, who was raging and stomped on his hat repeatedly, because he had lost the bet. To his surprise, and even more so to the surprise of his father, the young Mafia was deemed the winner.
As the sun was starting to set, the arm wrestling contest started and Mafia Boss was once again the referee, which caused a lot of nervousness for the participants who were more afraid of his sharp gaze, rather than the brute strength of their opposition. In the end, nobody won as the Mafia started to flee after seeing a slimy space alien that crashed the party.
The alien repeated “Leave the island, or I'll curse you all!” multiple times as it attacked the Mafia, jumping on their heads while snickering. The only one who seemed mostly unfazed was their leader, who chased the alien away with his daggers after scolding his goons for running away in fear from a small and wimpy-looking mud monster. After that small foe was vanquished, the festivities resumed with just a little unease still present, it was visible the most in the Mafia that were lighting the rockets for the fireworks, who burned themselves on the fuse of the rockets each time they were lighting it.
“Alright, men, listen up!” The boss of the Mafia climbed onto a crate to give a speech like every year, his voice reaching even the Goofy Mafia that had been thinking about alien conspiracies up until that point and had been stuck in his thoughts. “It marks three years now since we made this island our new home. Thanks to the continues efforts of ME...and you, we're close to finishing up the improvements necessary to bring our families over here!” The goons cheered after that message.
“Mafia finally be able to see wife again, Mafia missed being nagged at for forgetting to take out trash.” One Mafia wiped away a tear and was consoled by the one next to him, who put a hand on his shoulder.
The boss rose his fist to the air. “Let's work hard on reaching that goal, no slacking this year!” Most Mafia cheered aside from one in the back.
“Mafia wasn't slacking, Mafia was working hard on repairing building while Boss was sleeping on throne.” Thankfully for that Mafia Goon, his boss didn't hear him.
All in all the festival was a big success and once again served it's purpose, bringing the Mafia together, even if it usually resulted in monumental chaos.
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shyminmin · 8 months
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༄𝐁𝐓𝐒 𝐗 𝐟.𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Fantasy, Mermaid AU | ༄𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.1k + ༄𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Very mild angst and course language
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Ok Y/n, you've got this!
All you've got to do is ask a bunch of strangers if they know anything about your tragic past. No big deal.
Nerves racked through my body as I stood, dithering outside the inn.
Looking up and down the street I sought out my first victim who would have to put up with my crazy, awkward self. Like yesterday, the town seemed almost deserted, the only company being the screeching seagulls flying overhead and the prickly innkeeper who I learnt was named Ms Jee.
I had attempted to ask her some questions first but she abruptly cut me off.
"Hun, I don't get paid to answer questions about this dingy old town, and the lowlives in it. Do I look like I want to be here?" She stared at me condescendingly.
Words were caught in my throat, not knowing how to reply.
Huffing she had waved me off and proceeded to continue doing her makeup, looking in her flip up mirror, all while saying "Life's a bitch, you can try but in the end, we all can't get what we want".
Sweat was dripping from my temples by the time I stepped outside away from her. A great start to my search indeed.
I slowly began to walk along the street hoping to come across someone. Luckily I wore a sunhat, otherwise the blistering rays of the sun would surely burn me to a crisp. Oh how you've got to love the summer heat. At least being right by the ocean gave me somewhat of a breeze.
I had been scanning the place for a few minutes thinking I was never going to find another soul until finally, up ahead, coming out of a building, I spotted a group of three elderly men. They were all carrying fishing poles and buckets, looking like they were about to go out and catch something. An easygoing conversation was getting tossed about between their raspy voices and every so often they bellowed over in laughter from inside jokes.
Maybe they would know, they seem like locals.
Mustering up some courage, I quicken my pace to catch up with them. They seemed friendly enough, so talking might be easier. The crunching of gravel below my steps alerted one of them and like dominos they all turned towards me.
"Good mornin' to ya lil lady, can we help you with somethin'?"
I blushed at their use of words, my shyness not letting me look them directly in the face.
"H-hello! Sorry to bother you. Would you happen t-to know where Mr and Mrs Yang live?"
They all looked between each other and back towards me gobsmacked, their eyes widening making sure I wasn't somehow messing with them.
"What would a young lass like you want with an old grump like Chinhae?" The one in the middle asked, lifting a brow.
"Well... I guess you could say he's the one who saved my life."
Silence fell upon the group, whether it was from shock or awe, I had no clue, their expressions too hard to decipher. The distant sounds of waves crashing on the shore was the only thing that could be heard.
I gulped, waiting in anticipation for a reply, wondering whether it would be positive or negative.
Then like a dam breaking, all three of the fishermen shouted out responses all at once.
"Oh dear Buddha, you're that baby!"
"You came back, you were so small, now look at ya!"
"Wow I can't believe that ol' Chin Chin sent you away!"
I stepped back, a little overwhelmed by their raised voices and comments.
"Y-you know about me?" I let out, baffled.
"Of course, my dear! A small town like this where everyone knows each other, my word we know of ya!" The one on the left said with endearment, a gentle smile adorning his wrinkled face.
"It's not everyday you find a poor lil baby washed up on shore in this boring ol' dump. Surprisin' how ya survived bein' in that cold water for so long! T'was a miracle."
Optimism was starting to surround my previous hopeless assumptions. Maybe finding the missing puzzle pieces to my life would prove to be easier than I thought. My heart pumped faster, eager to have every detail thrown at me right this instant. After all I have been waiting for a good 21 years, I think I deserve to say that I have been more than patient.
"I-If it's not too much to ask, w-would you mind telling me more about back then? Anything at all, it would mean the world to me." I was practically pleading at this point. Clasping my hands together, I did a respective bow.
Making out sounds of protest, I felt a hand draw my head back up so I was looking them in the face.
"Stop with this formal nonsense." The third man tutted. "It would be our pleasure to tell you what we know."
"As for getting the whole story, you were right in asking for Yangy boy. However I must warn you dear child, he doesn't take too kindly to company these days, not since he's been widowed."
"Oh..." my heart sank, "I had n-no idea."
All the newspaper articles and police reports only stated what happened at the time of the incident and the married couple who found me back then. I didn't take into account that they could've possibly moved or passed away.
God I'm so stupid!
"Don't fret lass, you couldn't have known" the elder pat my shoulder trying to reassure me.
"Ol' Chin Chin lives away aways north along the coast, about 10 kilometers yonder. If ye would allow, after our story tellin' we could give you a ride up there."
"No, I can't ask you to do that after you're already doing so much for me. A-And it looks like I've already interrupted your fishing trip" I said eyeing their gear.
"Well ain't ye the thoughtful one. Not to worry, our recreation can wait, not when a sweet damsel is in need of help. Lads don't keep the lady waiting and put our stuff back in the shop" The middle man ordered, making his two companions playfully scoff.
Splitting into groups of two we went our separate ways. The middle fisherman led me up the street a little further, eventually stopping in front of what I assumed to be a cafe of some sort if the name 'Seaside Chow' was anything to go by.
Being a gentleman he opened the door for me, ushering me in.
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Sitting around one of the many tables in the almost empty establishment, the three men had called out to the waitress asking for their usual and insisted on paying for my order too, which consisted of a simple coffee and muffin.
I tried reasoning with them that they didn't have to but I guess it's hard to change older people's minds. They had firmly put their foot down and didn't even want to see me taking out my wallet.
The cafe held a relaxing ambiance, where anyone could come in and just turn off for the day if they wanted to. The same wooden theme that the whole town seemed to sport was showcased just as much within these calming walls, portable fans turned on to the highest setting as they tried to circulate the scorching summer air.
Once everything was placed on the table, I reached for my mug taking a sip of the bitter beverage, enjoying the sensation.
"Now where should we start?" The man who escorted me here asked to himself, rubbing his chin in thought.
"Ah yes, when Chinhae and Yeona brought ye down, the whole town pitched in to help, ye were a lil pint sized thing that's for sure, wrapped in all those blankets."
"Yeona, y-you mean Mrs Yang?"
"Ai, she was always such a caring gal, never understood what she saw in Chin Chin, he was always such a grouch. She was cradling you like her life depended on it when she came, handling you with such care. It was only natural that she insisted that they adopt you when your parents didn't show. She treated you like you were her own."
Clutching my cup tighter, I listened on, eager to learn more.
"As ye grew, we would always find you roaming around the town or carrying too many seashells that ye hoarded like anything" The middle guy spoke, making all of them chuckle.
"Yeona would always bring you with her whenever she came to visit the shop, ye were a quiet thing but you always had a smile on your face."
They smiled reminiscing about back then, as they continued to ramble on about all the little adventures my child self seemed to go on, making me second guess if the person they were talking about really was me. I never would've thought I was that outgoing and careless as an infant, but then again, I didn't really know much about myself to begin with.
"Everyone adored you. You were like a fresh ocean breeze, having such a bright, young soul running about in this forgotten town."
"What's with those flowery words, I didn't take ya for a poet, Dong Dong" one of the middle man's friends asked. "All that seawater has gotten to ya head."
"Dong Dong..." I sat there confused.
"Don't mind them lass, old age is gettin' to 'em, the name's Dongha but all the folks have other plans in mind."
"Oh... right... I-I didn't catch you other sir's names."
"Sir? Please." The one to the left of Dongha let out. "Call me Myungsoo, and this fella is Sungwon" He said, patting the last man's shoulder.
"And if my memory hasn't failed me, you must be Y/n."
"Y-yes, C-Cheong Y/n" I stated.
Raising a scruffy eyebrow, Dongha huffed, utterly astounded. "Oh I see the bastard didn't even let you use his family name, his wife had to give you her maiden name instead." He said, shaking his head in disappointment. "O'l Chin Chin only let you stay because of his wife if I'm correct. Said something ridiculous about you being a bad omen."
"Now now don't frighten the poor child" Sungwon butted in.
"No no it's fine, I can handle it" I interjected, "Please don't hold off on account of me."
The three men looked to me in sympathy, clearly not wanting to say anything that may offend me or cause me to get upset.
"Well... when Yeona passed, ye would've been around 4 or 5. Chinhae was void of life, shouting out superstitious nonsense to everyone, blaming her misfortune on you." He paused looking to see if I was still ok, when I nodded he continued.
"Us and the other locals were concerned for your safety, you had shown up on more than one occasion with bruising. We were even more devastated to see that he gave you over to the welfare system. Any one of us would've gladly taken custody, however by the time everything was finalized you were already on your way towards a big city."
And the rest is history, I concluded in my head.
Gently placing his old, calloused hand on mine, Dongha made me look up towards him, no doubt trying to provide some sort of reassurance.
"Know this lass, whatever the reasons things turned out the way they have, it is far from your fault, and we'll be damned if ya or anyone else says otherwise. No child should ever have to go through all the stuff you did."
Surprisingly, I managed to maintain eye contact, his words striking into parts of my soul that I thought would forever remain cold and numb.
What was this feeling? I felt warm, lighter. Was it because someone other than myself was having my best interests in mind? Providing support? If so then I don't want it to end.
Letting out a shaky thank you, for the first time in however many years, my eyes grew hazy, filled with the saltiness of well overdue tears.
We took some time to get through our food and drinks, all the while the three friends chattered amongst themselves, trying to include me here and there. They were a little worried and shocked when I had erupted into silent tears, however I assured them as they grabbed a loose napkin for me to dry my eyes with, that they were from the surge of comfort that I was feeling all of a sudden.
I was staring off in a light daydream after they had finally stopped, when the chiming of the bell atop of the cafe's entrance went off signaling that someone had arrived.
I looked in the newcomer's direction, simply curious and having nothing else to do at the moment.
Oh, I certainly wasn't prepared for what I would see.
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| 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 | ༄⋆
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thealmightyemprex · 1 month
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Top 10 X Men the animated Series villains
Now before we go forward Im gonna say something controvercial:Magneto is NOT on the list cause I dont consider him a villain outside of his first two appearences
10.Lady Deathstrike:Former lover of Wolverine who has gotten cybernetic enhancements to avenge her father .I wish she was in more then one two parter
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9.Cortez-A mutant acolyte of Magneto who attempts to kill Magneto and frame the X Men for not going far enough .I just love how deranged this guy is
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8.Omega Red -A living killing machine made by the Soviets and enemy of Wolverine.Overshadowed by another Wolverine foe but hes still very intimidating
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7.Mystique:A shapeshifter and leader of the Brotherhood of Mutants.Very much an opurtunistic character ,and is fascinating due to being the mothers of Rogue ,Nightcrawler and Graydon Creed
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6.Mr Sinister -A basically immortal mad scientist ,Mr Sinister is the second biggest villain of the show.....And confession time,initially I didnt like him,finding his arc in season 2 so so,but a mixture of Christopher Brittons cold performance ,his unique design and his appearences in season 4 and 5 (Which showcase him working with Apocalypse ,aiding the heroes and showcasing his orgins ) have warmed me up to him and am excited to see what he has in store for the upcoming X Men 97
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5.Juggernaut -Charles Xaviers bullying step brother who through magic has become a unstoppable super strong brute .His motives are simple he wants Xavier to pay for precieved slights against him,when in actuality both were victims of his cruel exploitive father
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4.Shadow King-A powerful telepath whose mind was imprisioned by Xavier and now seeks a new body.The villain so powerful and evil he lead to Xaviers efforst to found the X Men .I find him an existentially terrifying villan and sad he only appeared twice
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3.Graydon Creed -Head of the Mutant hate group Friends of humanity and son of Sabretooth and Mystique .Of the non powered villains he is the one who stands out for just being a vile realistic bigot
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2.Sabretooth -Wolverines nemesis ,a sadistic and cunning villain,whose own son Graydon is terrified of him.Very menacing and I really like the performance of Don Francks
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1.Apocalypse -The closest thing the series has to a big bad , a centuries old power mad mutant .This guy is just entertaining ,bombastic and a wonderful performance by veteren scene chewer John Colicos
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@ariel-seagull-wings @the-blue-fairie @themousefromfantasyland @princesssarisa @theancientvaleofsoulmaking @piterelizabethdevries @filmcityworld1
@countesspetofi
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lily-blue · 1 year
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Uncharted waters
☆ characters: poseidon’s son!chenle & mermaid!you ☆ genre: royalty au, greek gods au, the little mermaid au, fluff, horror(ish) ☆ warnings: violence and death ☆ summary: you’re so in love with Prince Chenle, the boy you rescued when he was knocked overboard, that you’re willing to sacrifice everything to be with him - little do you know, everything is exactly what he wants to take away from you ☆ words: 6,2k ☆ also: a massive thanks to @dat-town​ for her help with this story ♥ your questions made me realize how important details are in every fantasy, even in fantasies where you already have a world to work with! 
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Your body felt heavy, like shipwrecks at the bottom of the sea, and your lungs were on fire, a sensation you had only ever heard in those magical tales Kunhang, the seagull, had told you whenever you had visited him on the surface. 
For a long time, the eccentric albeit friendly bird had been your sole connection to the human world; your only resource, when you had had yet another question about those treasures you had found during your adventures with Yangyang. But the more stories you had heard about human inventions and people with two beautiful, long legs who could dance, walk, and run, the more curious you had become. Curious and bold enough to save a human boy when he had fallen in the ice cold water on a stormy night and make a deal with the sea witch just to get a chance to have your happy ending by his side.
The contract you had signed consisted of three simple statements: The sea witch gave you two human legs in exchange for your voice. To keep them permanently, you had one week to make Prince Chenle fall in love with you. If you failed, and he didn’t give you the true love’s kiss by the seventh sunset, you had to choose whether you killed the prince and turned back into a mermaid or took your own life, offering your undying soul to the wicked. 
Which meant failure wasn’t an option. It couldn’t have been one.
Groaning without any sound, you rolled onto your back and opened your eyes. The overcast weather dulled the colors of your surroundings, but you still found the shore beautiful. Unlike when you had been staring at the barely visible Sun while lying beside Yangyang and your moody babysitter, Kun, the sand, now dry, stuck to your skin and made you feel itchy. It penetrated places you didn’t want to think about (and couldn’t have named), but that must have been a part of your new, scale-less life, so you embraced the sensation. It was alright, because your new legs would take you to your prince: to the one you were destined to be with.
A pair of beautiful legs. Your legs. The thought alone made you feel exhilarated. It was like electric eels were rushing through your veins. Your heart was pounding in your entire body.
You couldn’t have told how long you were lying on the beach while you were smiling at the gray clouds, but then a faintly familiar woof-woof gained your attention and knocked the thoughts out of your mind. You snapped your head in the sound’s direction and rolled on your stomach just in time to see the fluffy animal whose steps came to an abrupt halt in front of your face.
‘Daegal! What are you doing there?’ A second intruder ran up to you, this time, a human boy whose voice played on your heartstrings. Prince Chenle looked different from how he had looked at the night when his ship had fallen victim to the storm. Then, his clothes had been torn and his dark locks more disheveled. Now, he seemed more of a safe place than an exciting adventure. Yet, you couldn’t tear your gaze away from him.
Your eyes widened in shock when you felt something damp against your cheek, although you let out a soundless giggle as soon as you realized that it was Daegal’s doing. Chenle’s animal greeted you with a lick across your face, then licked your nose, too, for good measure.
‘Oh?’ The soft sound came from the prince who walked up to your duo in the meantime. He sat on his knees in an arm’s distance from your figure, and pulled Daegal in his embrace. Following the movement with your lingering gaze, you pouted, disheartened, at the thought that he might have felt the need to protect his friend from you. ‘Who are you? And what are you doing here so late?’
You opened your mouth to tell him everything: that you were the one who had pulled him to the shore when the sea had been about to swallow his body; that you were here for him. But no sound came out of your throat.
‘You cannot speak?’ The prince asked, and you nodded with a pout. How were you supposed to make him fall in love with you if you couldn’t make yourself understood? Ursula might have been right about your pretty face and the possibilities that came with body language, but you still felt somewhat lost while you were thinking about what you should have done next.
You winced when something cold poked your shoulder, then did it again when the same, ice cold sensation hit the small of your back. You were familiar with the rain. However, the drops definitely felt different now that you were out of the sea. You turned your head towards the gray clouds.
‘Come on! We need to find shelter,’ Prince Chenle said as he stood up and held his hand out for you. You hesitated only for a fleeting moment, your curious gaze boring deep into his coal orbs, before you accepted his help.
Standing on two legs was a harder task than you had initially thought. First of all, your body’s weight was a real thing on land, unlike when you were in the water; you found it hard to divide it equally. Which automatically led you to the second most crucial problem: your weak sense of balance. You managed to take one tiny step forwards before you lost your footing and fell head first into the prince’s arms. Completely naked, save for the seaweeds that stuck to your skin.
‘Are you oka—? Oh, goodness! Here! Take this,’ he said with one of his protective arms around your figure. He didn’t look at you while he shook his midnight blue jacket off his shoulder and threw it over yours. In fact, his gaze kept sliding from one thing to another until it fell on everything in your close proximity but your exposed skin.
Determined to not be a nuisance, you quickly adjusted the fabric so that it would hide your chest and thighs, then tapped the prince’s shoulder twice in order to gain his attention. It was still very new to you to communicate without your voice, but when Prince Chenle finally looked at you, a newfound wave of confidence surged through your whole being. You could do it. He had understood what you had wanted. You could do it.
The walk to the castle where the prince lived was mostly silent, but you didn’t mind the lack of conversation. Instead, you observed your surroundings and tried to burn every tiny detail in your memory: the dull color of the sand under your feet, the deep red, almost black flowers down the road that led to Prince Chenle’s home, and those iron gates that opened for you seemingly out of nowhere as soon as you reached them. You supposed, there must have been guards who controlled them from somewhere, but no matter how eager you were to lay your eyes on them, you saw no one.
‘You can stay here until we find your family,’ the prince told you while he led you towards the stairs. ‘It is just me here, Daegal, grandpa, the cook, and the maids. So it is no problem at all,’ he reassured you further before he called for someone named Yuqi, and pushed you into an empty bedroom.
The palace in Atlantica was nothing like the castle that had suddenly become your new home. Because even though it was at the bottom of the sea, far from the Sun, it was brighter and full of life. There, your bedroom barely had walls and everyone could easily swim from one place to another, even those who were only visiting your family temporarily.
This place isolated its habitants. The dark paint on the walls, the black baldachin around your bed, and the heavy curtains in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows gave you the impression that you had to ask for permission before you left your room; you weren’t sure that you liked it. It didn’t sit well with your adventurous nature.
However, it could have easily been the storm’s doing: your anxiety. Thus, you tore your gaze from the decoration and turned towards your prince with a smile. As expected, his presence worked wonders on your mood.
‘I will tell Yizhuo to bring you something nice to wear. She will prepare your bathwater, too,’ he informed you with a warm smile on his face that reflected on your own.
Recalling those stories Kunhang had told you about human habits, you pinched both sides of the jacket you were wearing and lifted it gingerly. You wished to put your immense gratitude on display while showing the prince that you were an educated woman. Although, when your gaze slid from the floor to his comically wide eyes, the scandalized look on his face told you that you might have been mistaken.
You opened your mouth to ask what you had done wrong, however, no words rolled down your chapped lips. Still, your pathetic attempt at communication brought the prince back to his senses and revived his numb limbs.
Prince Chenle rushed up to you and grabbed the jacket you were wearing. Your lips parted in horror when you realized that he was fixing the fabric on you as it hadn’t been covering your front anymore.
‘Do not ever do this again,’ he pleaded, voice barely above a whisper. The prince’s handsome face looked pained while his black eyes bored into yours, like when you upsetted a jellyfish and suffered the consequences. So you gulped and nodded in understanding.
You had no idea how long the two of you were just standing there, in the middle of the room, but you were aware of countless other things. For one, you couldn’t ignore the prince’s warm breath that fanned over your skin and dressed it in goosebumps. Then, your heart was beating faster than ever, even when you were racing with Yangyang under the sea. Not to mention, if only you had been a few inches taller, your eyes would have been in line with the boy’s rosy lips. He was so close.
‘Khm… dinner is in an hour. Yizhuo will show you the way,’ the prince said when he took the first step backwards; his hands falled back by his sides.
You once again nodded - you wished you could have done more, but the human alphabet was different from the one you used under the sea which meant you couldn’t have even written notes so early into your new life - and smiled at him. You smiled until he turned his back to you and walked out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
You wished Yizhuo arrived soon.
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The dinner with the prince and his grandfather was better than you had imagined; the food melted in your mouth and the company welcomed you with open arms, although not literally. Humans, at first glance, weren’t too affectionate creatures, but they had many other qualities that fascinated you. They ate their meals with two equally long sticks, kept the side dishes in different bowls and sucked on the snarfblatt instead of blowing it.
Fueled with curiosity, you could have easily stayed at the dining hall all night to learn new things about humans and human objects, but once the dessert was gone and Prince Chenle’s grandfather called for their maids to clean the table, it was time that everyone headed back to their room. And you had no right or way to protest.
That night, buried under a comfortable, warm blanket, your thoughts wandered in directions you wished they hadn’t. You thought of your father and the molten fury in his otherwise loving eyes. You wondered whether he had already known that you had made a deal with the sea witch after he had destroyed your collection of human inventions. Was he looking for a way to get you back or he refused to call you his daughter anymore because of your actions? Based on how much he despised humans, you wouldn’t have been surprised if it had been the latter. Still, the possibility made you sad. He was your family, after all.
The more you doubted your bond with your loved ones - Yangyang must have felt betrayed that you had left him behind when he had followed you into danger time after time despite what a guppy he was -, the louder the voices in your head became. They told you that you had sold your soul the moment you had set tail in the sea witch’s cave. They called you immature and stupid. They said it was inevitable that you would become a murderer.
You tried to convince them that they were wrong and true love didn’t work like that, but by the time you managed to silence them, the first rays of sunlight shone upon your bed, and the second day began.
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Before breakfast, Yizhuo was kind enough to not make comments on your disheveled hair and overall disoriented appearance. Not that you weren’t aware of how you looked even before you were sat in front of the vanity table.
There were dark circles under your eyes and angry red scratches all over your arms, although you had no recollection of when you had injured yourself so badly. As far as you could tell, once you had gotten in bed, you had been tossing and turning around for hours before your body had given in to exhaustion. You had been troubled, but safe. Your scars made no sense.
‘Do not worry, miss. I have the perfect long-sleeved dress for you,’ the maid reassured you with a warm smile. ‘It might be a little warm for the summer weather, but it will hide your scars from unwanted eyes.’
You thanked her for her kindness with a beaming smile and took the hair brush out of her hands so that she could fetch your outfit. Before Prince Chenle had bid his goodbye last night, he had promised to show you the town around the castle after breakfast and you didn’t want to waste a second. Especially because it had already felt like hours while you had been waiting for Yizhuo to knock on your door and prepare you for the day. 
The dress the maid brought for you was simple but gorgeous. It consisted of a blue skirt that reached your ankles, a black corset, and a white shirt that hid your arms, but emphasized the lines of your neck and collarbones. Completed with the blue ribbon in your hair and the light make-up Yizhuo put on your face, the outcome was magnificent. It fitted those images you had in your head - that you had seen in human books - whenever you daydreamed about dating.
Feeling restless, the breakfast went by both quickly and painfully slowly, but your chair was right next to the prince’s, therefore you weren’t complaining. You ate your soup diligently and put some rice in the broth when you saw that Prince Chenle and his grandfather did the same. There were so many things you still didn’t know about their habits, you couldn’t wait to tell Kunhang and Yangyang about your own discoveries.
“As if they wanted to hear about them, you silly girl. You will never see them again. Never see them again. You will never see them again.”
The voice came from behind you, but when you snapped your head in that direction, you saw no one but the maids who stood by the door, waiting for your requests silently. You gulped and shook your head. You could have sworn that you had heard this scolding tone before, but you had no idea where.
‘Is everything alright, dear?’ The prince’s grandfather inquired; worry evident in the way he pronounced each syllable.
You reassured him with frantic nods and a beaming smile. Although, if you had wanted to be honest, you weren’t entirely sure whether things were indeed quite alright. But to explain the situation to them in detail, you needed more than your limited arsenal of gestures and mimics. Hence, you chose to not address your concerns. You were a big girl. You were determined to prove to everyone that you could fight your own battles.
Your father and Kun might have never believed in you, but neither of them was present in your life anymore to doubt you.
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The books that sank to the bottom of the sea were too fragile to read after a certain point. But once you had realized that it was because the material they were made of changed form under water, you had gained the habit of opening them at your favorite pages as soon as you found them so that you could at least stare at them when you were bored.
The drawings you had seen in these books portrayed humans in beautiful ball dresses while they were laughing and dancing. They depicted lovers on romantic dates as they were kissing. And they also showed how human towns were always crowded and full of life.
The town around the royal castle wasn’t any different. It was loud, but well-coordinated. At first glance, it seemed that everyone had somewhere to be, even the youngest children who ran past you and the prince near the market. Their energy reminded you of your carefree childhood and the day when you had first met Yangyang. 
The tropical yellow fish had gotten lost on his way to school, so you had helped him get home safe while you had been having fun getting to know each other and munching on seaweed cookies. You had been his first friend. And he had been yours.
“He could help you, if only you had told him about your plans. But you didn’t think about anyone or anything, did you? Do you really believe you can make him fall in love with you in six days? You can’t even tell him it’s too warm in your dress or that you’re thirsty. You’re pathetic, you silly girl. Pathetic. You’re pathetic.”
You flinched when someone grabbed your hand, but relaxed immediately when your eyes fell on Prince Chenle’s delicate fingers around your wrist. He pulled your hand away from your neck and squeezed it lightly the moment it swung back and forth by your side.
‘Do not be nervous. I will be here the whole time,’ he reassured you kindly; his thumb was caressing the back of your hand tenderly. You furrowed your eyebrows, confused, but then you noticed the softness of his fingertips against your skin and your mind went blank. With your sanity out of the way, you didn’t question why he would have thought you were nervous. What you focused on instead was the fact that he cared.
Therefore, you pressed your lips together with a newfound determination and looked around in the vicinity in search of a place where you could get some refreshments. There was a house on your left with breads of different shapes and sizes in its windows and another one on your right with stalls of apples in front of it. You saw a shop that changed one’s hairstyle and a building that had a dining hall in its garden.
You pointed at the latter.
‘Are you hungry?’ The prince asked and you shook your head. ‘Well, that is a restaurant. But we can have shaved ice at the shop two corners from here. Do you like shaved ice?’
You knew what an ice cube was and you didn’t particularly like the stinging numbness you felt when you touched one. However, shaved ice was most probably different because you had never seen anyone eating plain ice cubes before, thus your brain decided that not even humans would have enjoyed chewing on them willingly.
Seeing your contemplation, Prince Chenle patted the top of your head with an affectionate smile and pulled you towards the aforementioned direction. By the time you reached the shaved ice shop, you completely forgot about the reappearing voices in your head because your mind was filled with all the stimuli you had encountered on the road. You had seen old people reminiscing about the good, old days; children scolded by their parents; and animals like Daegal running after a round toy.
Humans were fascinating; and so were their animal friends. Smiling at the vendor behind the wooden counter, you wished you could have shown your father that they weren’t as malicious as he made them to be.
“They are monsters, you silly girl. They are monsters. All of them.”
‘… a different flavor every time, but their red bean shaved ice is really good,’ the prince said, pulling your attention to your options while quieting the scolding voice. Your lips parted in wonder. Ah! So this was shaved ice. ‘They have fruit flavored ones, too. You seemed to like the peach slices last night,’ he nudged your shoulder with his arm that encouraged you to take a closer look at the variety of desserts.
Prince Chenle was right. Although they weren’t as good as seaweed cookies, you had enjoyed the fruit slices during dinner, even more when they had been coated in warm chocolate. Thus, you pointed at the displayed topping that resembled yesterday’s dessert the most, then put one of your palms on the counter to support your legs. When feeling excited, you had gained the habit of bouncing up and down a little; it messed up your weak balance.
‘Easy,’ the prince scolded you with a chuckle, before he asked for two portions of peach and two portions of  mango shaved ice, one of each in your separate cups.
It tasted amazing. And not just that. One spoonful of the delicious, cold dessert managed to make the hot weather less suffocating. It lifted your spirit and gave you an energy boost that urged you to see more, taste more, feel more. Hence, when Prince Chenle suggested looking for an empty bench in the shade, preferably in the royal garden, you disagreed with him for the first time since you had exchanged your voice for a chance to be with him.
The prince’s steps came to an abrupt halt, and your eyes opened wide when you snapped your head in his way and your gaze fell on his figure. His face and posture looked a little different, but you couldn’t pinpoint why looking at him gave you this impression.
Especially because a couple of heartbeats later, he shot you an amused smile.
‘So you have a better idea? Now, I am intrigued,’ he raised his left eyebrow, and you giggled soundlessly, because his sudden playfulness took you by surprise in the best way possible. It must have been a sign that the two of you had grown closer.
You nodded with a beaming smile and walked up to him with your loose steps so that you could take his big hand in yours again. You craved for the damp feeling of his palm against your own and the warmth that this gesture ignited in your chest.
During your morning adventures, you visited a huge shop where people could eat mooncakes, drink bitter and sweet beverages, and borrow books that were placed on huge shelves in the back of the building. You also met children who invited you to draw on the road with them - they had these short, wooden sticks they could write in the hard sand with - and bumped into two adorable animals that looked exactly like Daegal, just with brown fur.
‘Should we check out the lighthouse, too, before we call it a day?’ Prince Chenle asked after you bid your goodbyes to the two puppies and their owner.
Honesty, a part of you felt that it would have been too early to head back to the castle even if you had visited the shore, but you were a royalty just like the prince. In the back of your mind, you knew that he couldn’t spend his entire day with you: that he must have had his own duties and responsibilities. So you squeezed his hand and nodded. Since he had offered, you saw nothing wrong with prolonging the time that you two had a little more.
The more steps you took towards the shore, the more exhausting it became to move your legs, but you did your best to shut out the numbness. You didn’t want to cut your program short with unnecessary complaints, especially because you couldn’t have been sure whether it was normal to feel so drained after a couple of hours of walking. There was a fat chance that you were overreacting and you were determined to not let your lack of knowledge sabotage your happily-ever-after.
Still, you barely reached the borders of the town, when your limbs gave out and you lost your balance. A silent scream stuck in your throat as you held onto the prince’s hand, desperate in a way you had only ever experienced when Yangyang and you had been attacked by a shark during one of your impromptu adventures. You closed your eyes, unsure what else you could have done to prevent the fall.
‘I have got you,’ Prince Chenle whispered against your cheek; his arms keeping you close to his chest in an awkward hug. Perplexed, you opened your eyes and turned your head to the right slowly.
Prince Chenle’s hair smelled like salt and peaches; it blended your world into his and pushed your already mushy brain into overdrive. You didn’t even notice that your nails were digging tiny crescents into his bladebone or that he turned his head in your direction in the meantime. You were lost in your fantasies: all you could think about was your future together and how much you yearned for his kiss.
You choked on air when the prince’s nose brushed against yours. His inviting lips were mere inches from your mouth like in those books about romance. This was it. This was the moment you had been waiting for. Therefore, you pursed your lips and leaned forwards. Three inches. Two inches. One in…
The prince pulled away and sat on his knees in front of you with his back to you.
‘Hop on!’ He encouraged you, shooting a warm smile at you from above his shoulder when he realized that your feet were rooted to the ground. ‘Come on! I will carry you.’
Brushing aside your confusion mixed with disappointment, you climbed on the prince’s back and linked your arms in front of his neck. His muscles tensed and relaxed repeatedly under your body while he stood up and started to walk towards the lighthouse.
‘You know, next time you should tell me when you are not feeling well. We can always finish these tours another day,’ he scolded you worriedly, his words awakening dozens of butterfly fish in your tummy.
You buried your face in the crook of his neck and nodded. Your lips grazed along his soft skin when you smiled.
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Your days as a human girl were filled with delicious meals, town tours, and lazy strolls on the beach. Despite his busy schedule, Prince Chenle made sure to take a few hours out of each one of his days to spend some time with you, showing you new places and free time activities that made you bounce up and down in excitement like when he had showed you the oldest books you had even seen in your life: books that told tales about gods and goddesses who blessed the world with as many wars as miracles.
Your nights, however, got more tiring, the closer you got to your seventh day on the land. The voices haunted you in your sleep and poisoned your happiest memories with your loved ones. By the fifth afternoon, whenever you saw something that reminded you of your life in the sea, your chest felt heavy and the urge to scrawl your way out of your own body clouded your mind. Your skin was dressed in crimson and rose-colored scars, some deeper than others, all of them painful nevertheless. You were a mess.
A hopeful mess desperate for her happy ending.
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You couldn’t have picked a favorite; you thought of the beautiful colors of the sunrise just as fondly as you thought of those sunsets you had spent on the shore with Prince Chenle by your side. Then and there, it didn’t matter that you couldn’t speak or that you had the trident of Poseidon hanging over your head. You were happy listening to his stories while he played with your hair, lying on the sand.
It was one of those days when the prince asked you to accompany him for a walk after dinner. The Sun was still shining down on the world, painting the scenery in an orange-gold hue and you couldn’t contain your smile while you were listening to the prince’s stories about pirates and monsters nearly as dangerous as the kraken. His love for the sea was evident; you could see it in his big hand gestures, the way he kept stealing glances at the tides, and the smile that adorned his face while he was reminiscing. You wished you could have shown him Atlantica. You couldn’t picture a single scenario in which he wouldn’t have fallen in love with your old home within a heartbeat.
‘That night, I thought that this was it. I was going to die,’ he said animatedly, pulling you in with the intensity he told you about the happenings. You swore, you saw the hopelessness in his eyes when he talked about his inevitable death. ‘But then this girl saved me. She showed up out of nowhere and pulled me to the shore.’
You almost fell over your own legs when your brain processed what he was talking about. It was you; you were the girl who had saved him.
‘Grandpa says it was just a hallucination, but I know she is out there somewhere,’ Prince Chenle kept insisting, his gaze stuck on the waves. You gulped. ‘One day, I will find her and ask her to be my wife. I will make her my queen.’
He wanted to make you his queen. The revelation kicked the air out of your lungs, making it even harder to think straight, collect your thoughts, and communicate. However, you had to find a way, because this was the perfect moment to confess your feelings for him. He yearned for his savior, he would have forgiven you for exchanging your voice for your legs, making it harder for him to find you.
With time, you could have learned how to tell him the truth.
So you pulled on the prince’s arm and demanded his full attention. Your steps didn’t come to a halt, but they didn’t need to, because the moment your gazes met, everything else became secondary. You pointed at yourself, then pointed at the sea.
‘What? Would you like to swim?’ Prince Chenle inquired, frustration rising in your chest. It was more difficult than it should have been, but you couldn’t afford losing.
“You have to kill him, you silly girl. Kill him. You don’t have much time.”
You shook your head. You pointed at yourself again, then at the sea. You slotted your palms together and imitated the unique movements of your tails when you were swimming. Yet, he didn’t seem to get it.
“So you’re ready to die. Because that’s what will happen. You will die, you silly girl. You will die.”
You gulped and lay down on your side on the sand. You rested your chin atop of your palm while you were staring at a random spot where your imaginary prince was lying. You opened your mouth to sing him a song, and while no sound came out of your throat, it did the trick.
Because the next thing you knew, Prince Chenle was lying next to you on the sand, his eyes dark albeit happy.
‘It is you,’ he breathed as he reached towards you with a trembling hand and the pads of his fingers grazed along your jawline. You fluttered your eyelashes and nodded.
The voices were still there, in the back of your mind, they still laughed at the inevitable, but you had even fewer reasons to believe them now that the prince was looking at you so fondly. He looked at you like you were irreplaceable, like you were the key to his happily-ever-after, too, and your heart was about to explode.
A silent yelp escaped your throat when Prince Chenle pushed you on your back and towered over you with his entire body. The situation was thrilling and terrifying at the same time, although you blamed the paralyzing dread you were feeling on the voices that didn’t stop chanting: “He’s a monster. A monster. He is a monster.”
For the first time, they sounded like Yangyang when he was panicky, but your best friend was living his life in the bottom of the sea, hence you deemed it a cheap trick. How could Prince Chenle have been a monster when he was about to make all your dreams come true?
You licked your lower lip when he adjusted his position and placed one knee on the sand on each side of your body. He sat on your hips and leaned forward for what you assumed was a kiss. So you pursed your lips the way lovers did in your beloved books and waited, flames of anticipation licking your being from the inside slowly.
Although your older sisters had already gushed over mermen in front of you and told you how kissing could make one’s lips feel as though they had been touched by a jellyfish - if you kissed someone for too long, that was -, the intensity of the prince’s kiss still took you by surprise. It was suffocating in the way your brain forgot to remind you that you should have breathed through your nose; messy with his tongue coating your pink flesh with saliva; and mind-shattering when you felt his fingers sneaking around your neck.
You furrowed your brows in confusion when he pulled away, but his hands remained on your throat. He was smiling down at you and you tried to reciprocate the gesture, but the grin he shot at you was unsettling.
“Kill him! You have to kill him! Kill him!”
Yangyang’s voice filled your senses, confusing you even more. Meanwhile, the prince’s hand squeezed your windpipes and one of his knees put a light pressure on your chest.
‘It’s okay. It won’t take too long,’ he taunted you, his chuckle making you sick.
A part of you tried to convince you that this was a sick joke, a nightmare, but the voices said otherwise and for the first time, they sounded less mocking and more desperate to make you see the monster behind the charming facade.
You dug your nails into Prince Chenle’s arms, but he didn’t budge, so you quickly moved on to his face until your body still had the energy to fight. You scratched his cheeks, pushed his head to the right, and went for his eyes. But the more determined you became to survive, the more amused his laughter sounded.
‘You signed your father’s death. How does it feel? To know that he will die because of you?’ He asked before he leaned down to press a kiss in the corner of your mouth.
You bit into his lip and kept pulling on it with your teeth so harshly, you could feel the iron taste of his blood in your mouth. He pressed his knee against your lungs harder.
“Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!”
You didn’t understand what was happening. You didn’t understand his reasons and the sudden change in his behavior, but you knew you wanted your father to be safe. You tried to kick him with your legs, push him off yourself with your arms, but he was too strong. Your head started to hurt from suffocation while your vision was already a bit blurry. The voices were screaming at you, scolding you for being so weak, but you couldn’t kill him. Heartbroken, you wanted nothing more than to swim back to your father and beg for his forgiveness. You wanted to see Yangyang and Kun.
Although you were certain that you were still on the shore, it felt like your lungs were getting filled with water. You furrowed your brows, eyes wide in horror. Prince Chenle’s hands weren’t around your neck anymore. They were pointed at you, fingers curled.
You coughed up water. It was salty on the tip of your tongue.
‘I should thank you I guess. Without you, I might have never gotten my happy ending,’ he mocked you, reciting the words you had told the sea witch when she had asked you about your heart’s desire. ‘It’s all thanks to you, love.’
When he balled his fists, your coughs became more aggressive. The water burned your lungs and your tears ran down on your cheeks.
Your death tasted like home.
the end.
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stackslip · 7 months
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i like the implication that battler isn't like. "aware" of the Time Loop TM and reacting accordingly--in-narrative he actually seems about as aware as the first time round! it's more like, his current in-narrative self is like an extension of his "real" self in the meta world, the one currently battling with beatrice. he's both aware and unaware of the narrative, just like the crime was done by a human and was done by a witch simultaneously. multiple stacking levels of reality, some that are completely paradoxical to one another, and yet they all exist together. multiple selves, in different places at the same time. beatrice is real, she isn't real. beatrice is a ghost, beatrice is a story, beatrice is a real life victim of abuse, beatrice is a witch. beatrice is redeeming herself, beatrice is working the strings the entire time. all of these true and not true. shrodinger's everything. umineko means seagull and also "cat box". i see you
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reloaderror · 1 month
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another one of my living room windows has fallen victim to seagull shit 
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stilemawillow · 2 months
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MTIJ | Ch.29 Dear Diary, Why Do I Have Feelings?
|mtij masterlist|
pairing: levi ackerman x reader
word count: 7.9k
summary: a girl with a variety of hidden complexes has to live with a french asshole for nine months. easy? on the surface. problematic? definitely. romantic? not too much, or at least they’d make it a point to say so everytime when asked. the end? please, their dynamic isn’t as simple as that.
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he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will mean some falling and she's afraid of heights r.i.d
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Vacations. Something so planned yet at the same time unplanned. Going to the beach was one thing, something unexpected happening as a result of that – another altogether. Vacations were meant to please, excite, aid the successful achievement of relaxation and all sorts of good things, only good things, good things all over. Mountains were fresh air, beautiful landscapes and so so many opportunities to stargaze. Beaches were sand, breeze, cocktails, hot girls in bikinis and seagulls all around. None of that sounded like it could do any harm, no? Of course not. Vacations were meant to create memories and be fun, a break from a dreadful 9-5 routine. So why wasn’t I having fun?
I got it! I got it! Asshole-me piped in an overzealous manner inside my throbbing head. It’s because who you like to think of as our asshole is in this picture with his hand around this blonde bimbo’s bare waist. Bingo. Jackpot. Bullseye. All those pleasant victories in life. A million dollars in cash falling out of a slot in a casino. Somebody winning a poker game. An old lady in a godforsaken village with too much time on her hands getting a check for half a billion. World peace. A child saying its first word, making its parents cry out of happiness. All my overdramatic self and I could do was cheer till my throat hurt. Inwardly, of course. Because you’ll never ever admit you’re jealous, asshole-me remarked. Well, no, but I couldn’t embarrass myself by throwing a tantrum in public either – I was Rolland Raven’s daughter and, in his presence or not, wouldn’t allow disgrace to befall our manipulative family and its name.
I stared at my phone’s screen with pursed lips and fervent eyes. The image my shrunken pupils couldn’t unglue themselves from featured a small beach bar. Palms in the far back, a child on its way to trip in the bottom left corner and a seagull eyeing its inanimate victim in the upper left one. They seemed like good pizza rolls. In the centre, like a Renaissance painting, stood Uncle Nick and Uncle Terry, George Tanner Senior – the bearer of the pizza rolls, my obviously sunburnt father, Natalie, a guy who I guessed was IT based on how dreadfully skinny he was and of course, Levi. The intern was on a small stool with a drink in one hand and a pretty little girl pushed into the other. Her bikini-clad breasts were pressed against his naked chest and her bright smile struck me as immensely fake all the way from New Jersey through the phone I was gazing at. Levi’s twitchy fingers were hesitantly ghosting over her skin, but had I not paid attention to the detail, I would’ve immediately assumed they were pretty close if not straight-up dating.
You’ll wonder what of that wasn’t fun for my pretentious highness and I’ll tell you that maybe it’s the one where my father was the one to send me this picture instead of the intern who I’d been texting for the past two days non-stop. Or maybe the part where the raven-haired asshole hadn’t once mentioned the blondie to his right during those two days. Not wishing to be overdramatic, I kept looking at my phone with a listless expression instead of scowling for being held in the dark about some random chick the intern had met on their vacation, but I could feel my stare growing emptier as my interest in today’s good weather and opportunities to have fun gradually evaporated.
“I ordered the drinks,” Adam said while sitting down across from me. “Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat?” His voice snapped me out of the trance. I placed my phone face-down on the table. There were no benefits whatsoever to us looking at the stupid picture so there was no use in showing it to the world either. I smiled as a nasty ball of phrases got stuck in the back of my throat. Ignoring it, I tried to be as benevolent as possible considering I had literally nothing to be mad about. Levi was just an intern, just a friend. The girl next to him and their relationship were none of my business. I wasn’t his girlfriend or secretary.
“I’m sure.” I nodded. Adam huffed, tucking a wavy lock of his ebony hair behind his ear and making me sigh on the inside. Usually, I’d make fun of Levi for not sending me the picture himself, tease him about the blonde and feel absolutely nothing because that’s how it’d been between us. We did things and whether the other liked them or not was unimportant because we didn’t feel much for each other. Now, of course, here came this thing – I didn’t want to ask and tease, too fearful of ruining his vacation by repeating all over again past mistakes of shoving my nose in personal matters.
“You don’t look too well,” Adam remarked, icy blue orbs scanning my face. I kept smiling and it might’ve made him uncomfortable enough to dismiss the topic altogether. He didn’t make a second comment on it. My hands played with the silver on my ring finger, cold and reassuring. As if.
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The next day, to nobody’s surprise it would seem, my mother took her leave with a bang grand and startling enough to make my eyelids snap open faster than the speed of sound. A grunt left my parted lips and I slapped a hand to my face to use as a comb. My bladder called for release, but my body decided not to function, so I ended up tumbling to the floor and greeting it with a kiss. Not a good start to any day. My eyes teared up and my wrist hurt, and I could feel my left leg was still on the bed, strangled by the sheets. It took me a minute and a few curses to get up and make an appearance in front of the bathroom mirror.
I washed my face and combed my hair, then approached Levi’s room with a nonchalant call of his nickname only to choke on a horrified gasp at the sight of the empty interior. Half-asleep mind going back to the strange dream I’d had, I stared at the dust coating the parquet and the pristine bed covers with vacant eyes. I closed the door slowly, heavy sigh slipping out as I reached the conclusion there’d be no need to make Earl Grey today along with my coffee. It left a bitter taste in my mouth to break a routine like that. Felt weird, too. Weirder even than the fact I’d made both drinks instinctively this Tuesday after they’d already left.
I would’ve taken my phone to the kitchen if it hadn’t been for the disappointingly low battery percentage that forced me to leave it to charge in my room. In five minutes, I was sitting at the marble counter with a steaming coffee in front of me, zoning out and pondering the fractions of my dream I could recollect. My bedroom had been stuffy and the hallway had been glowing with early sunlight. An instinctual turn to the guest room. Empty insides. I’d looked through the wardrobe for his clothes, searched for the books he stacked by the desk, the paperwork he always assembled neatly on top. There had been only dust.
I could recall sitting on the bed and opening the nightstand’s first drawer to find a glistening silver ring inside. Not the one I wore. The one he’d been supposed to wear and had probably thrown out. Then there was my father materialising at the doorstep, telling me to get out, breakfast was ready, my boyfriend was waiting downstairs (not Eren), my lecture was starting in an hour. No intern. He’d left long ago. He’d left long long ago. No trace of him anywhere.
I put down my coffee with a snort, letting the cryptic paranoia win. My feet padded up the stairs to the guest room despite the raw cynicism begging to spill from my mouth. I barged into Levi’s room and opened the wardrobe. It was full of suits and long-sleeved shirts, pants and T-shirts folded neatly and laid at the bottom. Half of his books were stacked in alphabetical order by the desk and there was no paperwork on top of it, but the pedantic color-coordinated arrangement of pens made up for it. I sat on the bed and looked around – the golden glow matched that of my faded dream, but the air was still heavy with Levi’s lavender shampoo and strong cologne. My hand reached for the nightstand. I didn’t know what I was expecting or hoping for, but the theatrical display was cut off by my own coarse laughter. The derision in it was great enough to make my fingers withdraw.
Nothing, nothing, nothing. I’m going fucking crazy. I tumbled sideways onto the pillow and sighed. God, so we finally agree on something! Asshole-me made me scoff. I stayed just long enough to feel the immense need to leave, overborne by the realisation the intern wouldn’t enter and scold me for invading his privacy or question the whereabouts of his morning cup of tea. With all my insolence, I took a brook from the pile by the desk and returned to the kitchen, ready to start the day with some French lessons and a dose of caffeine. I was in the middle of the second chapter, where the main heroine was telling the story of how she’d gotten smitten with her late husband, when I heard my muffled ringtone echo in the empty house. My memory served as a bookmark and I rushed upstairs to answer the call without checking the ID. I expected Adam, Annie, Melinda or even my father, but asshole-me insisted otherwise. Neither of us believed he’d be calling.
“How’s my princess doing at six in the morning? I hope I woke you up.” It was weird. Weird, refreshing and warm somehow. He sounded bored. No other way for it to go. I bit my bottom lip and snorted. I had a role to play here.
“You did, asshole, much like you do every other day.” My white lie probably went unnoticed because he only huffed, satisfied with himself. I faked a grumpy voice while asking: “What are you doing up this early?” It wasn’t curiosity. It was carrying the conversation.
“Making myself a tea and your father – a coffee. He’ll need it after yesterday’s cocktails.” His heavy sigh signalled to me who’d been the responsible babysitter while everybody else had been drinking. Uncle Terry and Nick loved to get carried away. Levi had enough experience with babysitting anyway. I wondered whether he’d tucked any of them into bed and whether they’d been wasted enough to commit atrocities, but asshole-me put the questions to rest by taking the wheel.
“On the topic of cocktails, my caring father didn’t forget to inform me of the White Woman you drowned. Tasty or is blonde not for you?” My back was leaning against the wall as the raven on the other end of the line clicked his tongue in mild annoyance. I imagined his face – sunburnt, scowling and tired. Maybe the lilac crescents would still be visible. If they were, had the pretty blonde noticed?
“Hold back the malice, princess. The cocktail was a Grasshopper, whatever that means, and the girl is an intern that flew in from Germany. Your father probably forgot to tell you that.” I felt the irrational need to roll my eyes so hard they got stuck in the back of my head and saved my all future conversations about this other intern we’d most certainly lead. I attempted, failed and fixed my gaze on the TV.
“Like he forgets to tell me he loves me. Both still seem pretty significant,” I shot out condescendingly, making Levi sigh. 6 a.m. or not, I wouldn’t let go of my demeaning confidence. I paused, thought of the tiredness in his voice and gave a sigh of my own. “Since I don’t want to ruin anything for you this early in the morning, I’m just going to say I hope you’re having fun. Don’t think about work. It’s not what you’re there for.”
“Interesting you should mention work. How’s the job at the supermarket going?” I decided not to take it personally after the conversation we’d led this Monday. I knew at least one passive joke awaited.
“Balanaces out as always. Okay paycheck and a not okay boss.” I shrugged, avoiding the mention of Adam’s name and waiting for my raven-haired friend to slip him into the conversation himself. We hadn’t talked about it properly. Maybe we had to at some point. Or maybe not, I squeaked mentally. A serious talk about Adam and I would result in nothing at all. Worse, likely an argument.
“And your suitor?” It was expected, light-hearted and unbothered as could be. I tried to picture his face but something hindered the image. I concluded the less I reacted, the less he would make such comments, hence why I refrained from sighing or making a sour face at the wall for fear he’d sense.
“Adam’s also fine, thank you for asking. He took me out yesterday,” I informed casually. Then again, I hadn’t meant to. I panicked about it, asshole-me shrugged her shoulders in oblivion and we both anticipated the intern’s reaction, knowing the spoiled princess points might’ve been boosted to a 40/100. Levi, however, did exactly what was expected of him – no more and no less.
“So now I get to call him your boyfriend?” The mocking inquiry didn’t harm my pride, but it made my defences rise. Maybe it was the unreasonable dislike for the word I harboured, still considering it a title only Eren was worthy enough of.
“You’re insufferable. No, you don’t get to call him anything besides his name because we’re not together.” My tone was spiteful, I was shaking my head, struggling not to glare or overreact. The joke didn’t deserve a temper tantrum, much less actual anger. As the mind-reader he was (or simple a good judge of conversations’ quality), Levi sensed my tone and took a risk by diving into unexplored territory.
“Maybe you should be. I don’t think even Leonheardt would blame you if you started dating. In most cases, you need a new guy to forget the old one.” The calming voice over the line I matched to a pair of beautiful narrowed eyes, ashen hues pinned to the floor. The advice towards the end had been strangely soft, almost knowing, as if having been tested, failed, succeeded and acknowledged. My heart clenched but I didn’t let it show.
“Thanks for enlightening me, Sherlock, I hadn’t thought of it that way,” I sassed sarcastically, making the raven sigh. Alongside the sound I imagined a pale hand going up to his hair to brush it away from his face. I moved the phone away from my ear to huff before pursing my lips with a half-hearted glare. “Also, you’re literally the last person I want to hear this from. I could start pushing you into getting with every girl that hits on you, but I don’t because I’m a good friend,” I boasted fakely, making the raven-haired intern snort in mild condescension.
“A best friend, rather. Only a friend wouldn’t comfort me as passionately as you have.” It was an accident, I could tell, but it made my windpipe constrict. My mouth clamped shut in shame so similar to fear it was uncanny. On the one hand, he was clueless how his albeit correct grammar in English added a nuanced subtext to the sentence. On the other hand, he was right. “Sorry. I know you don’t like it when I---” He tried hitting the pause and restarting but it was too late. I’d already turned into a ball of insecurity and I’d rather resent myself than him for it.
“Yes, I don’t. It’s whatever, no need for apologies, asshole. It happens, we slip. If I apologised for every time you didn’t like something I said we wouldn’t be talking at all.” My voice was nonchalant and it spoke of benevolent forgiveness but I could feel my resolve crumble while looking at the wall our rooms shared. A slimy ball of distaste formed in the back of my throat, crawling up to the tip of my tongue when I heard an ecstatic female voice call Levi’s name in the background. I spat the ball out and it hit the phone before dropping in my lap. “Sounds like better company has made an appearance. My highness better go.”
I hung up before he could respond, heart hammering and eyes closing in exhaustion. This wasn’t how the call should’ve gone, but it was inevitable, as with every other conversation we’d led. My shoulders slouched as I tried not to think about the happening at the hotel they were staying over at where the beautiful blonde had called Levi’s name in a way I’d never get the guts to. I remembered the photo and my shoulders tensed. She looked like a supermodel, just shorter. The perfect girl you come across randomly. You pass her on the street and hate yourself for not talking to her, but know you would’ve fumbled it even if you did. You see her in the background of a selfie your best friend sends you from the airport – a stranger that’s gorgeous in and out of the picture. You wonder what her name is. You remember her from time to time, give her without her consent as an example of the fact God has favourites. That type of looker. If attraction overruled duty, I might take second to last spot by the end of this vacation. Then again, why should I care?
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“We need to talk.” Annie’s gaze was made of steel and her resolve had chained me to the table before she’d even spoken. My eyes briefly darted up from my phone to observe her somber countenance prior to dipping again in impatience. Levi hadn’t texted me once today after the phone call. I’d been sure he would. Now I was starting to doubt my judgement.
“What about?” The little icons on the screen pissed me off. The lack of notifications pissed me off. Why? I wasn’t sure. The fact I was frustrated pissed me off too. I put the phone on the table face-down. My best friend’s eyes were an icy hue I seldom enjoyed crossing paths with and her arms were folded across her chest, like a strict mother about to scold her child.
“Ackerman.” The surname immediately made me think of Mikasa, which, in turn, brought Eren to mind, but before I could say anything, Annie cut straight to the chase: “Do you like him?” The pronoun made me switch gears, but while I was busy processing, asshole-me took the reigns and spoke instead.
“Excuse me? Do I like him? Annie, have you gone mad?” My tone told the long tale of how offended I was to be asked that. I blinked at the blonde across from me, hoping to have misheard her but it was a petty attempt at avoidance – there was nothing wrong with my hearing and Annie hadn’t stuttered. She rolled her eyes before brushing her bangs behind her ear with a scoff.
“I’m perfectly sane and my question is logical when you think of all that’s happened between you two in the past few months,” she reasoned calmly, almost coldly so, in a manner I recognised as impatient to get this whole topic over with. She crossed her legs and stared at me with a self-assured pout. “Now give me an answer.” The command was imperative enough to mak me bite back whatever I’d planned on saying. Attacking her and dodging the question would prove her point, so I took a deep breath and resorted to the truth. How humiliating.
“… I don’t.” The pause made the blonde quirk a skeptical eyebrow, but maybe it hadn’t been the pause at all – no, it had been the words after it. My gaze locked with hers and my composure didn’t falter once. “I mean it. I thought I did for some time. Even back when Eren and I were together. It was a fear of mine, that I might like him, but I was proven time and time again that it wasn’t like that. It hit me hard around my birthday but…” My eyes dipped to the table as I stopped my hands from impulsitvely reaching to fidget with the pendant of the necklace Levi had given me.
“But?” Annie pushed, gentle and cold, not exactly willing to believe just yet. I understood her. Truly, I did. I’d be the same in her place, but I had the unfortunate luck of being in my own, confused but adamant to give her a satisfactory honest answer. No, I didn’t like Levi. I liked to think I did, but Eren was still on my mind. Levi was the perfect thing to keep him away. I was manipulative and disheartened, needing a way out of the emotional tangle I’d gotten myself into. A pitiful smile crawled over my lips.
“But I can’t like him. I mean, I don’t. I’m not jealous of Petra or Natalie, or his current blondie. I’m sad because I enjoy his attention. I got used to it and when it’s not there, I get frustrated. That hardly translates as liking him. If anything, I’m using him, which is, again, pretty villain-y of me.” I bit back a sour chuckle and looked up at Annie with her elbows propped on the table – she’d picked it up from Erwin. Her expression was worried.
“Are you sure?” She inquired softly, but I was capable of sensing the urgency in her tone, like she couldn’t hold back her latent joy. This had been the answer she’d hoped for, not the one she’d expected, and she didn’t like that it was too good to be true, too cold to be me, too easy to get to be honest. I had no way or intention of making her doubts dissolve.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. There was a stir in my chest. Guilty conscience. Or something. I didn’t know.
“Because you just avoided answering me,” she retorted, making my smile widen as I snorted in satisfaction. I loved it when Annie tried to be all clever and insightful with me, and I had to admit it worked most of the time, but now she was following a gut feeling she couldn’t back with proof.
“I have Adam to distract me and I’m still sad when Eren gets mentioned, so I don’t think I have the emotional capacity to fall for my father’s intern at the moment, much less when he’ll be leaving in four months. I’m neither that dumb nor masochistic,” I explained as plainly as I could, hoping to get through to her and save us further worries and questioning. My smile had tamed its smugness but Annie was clearly set on pushing me into a confession of something I’d hardly considered a possibility.
“And you still make out with him and act like you’re a couple.” The statement, in a world where I was raised by Jared Raven, would’ve left my mouth and slapped Levi across the face. But this wasn’t that world and I was the one who got slapped. Unfortunately, it was insulting of Annie to say it but, fortunately, it didn’t upset as much as I’d anticipated it would. Maybe I’d accustomed to thinking it, too and having asshole-me rebuff it completely, much like she’d rebuffed the whole concept of me having romantic feelings for Levi. The same mean voice that told me I had weeks, in the beginning, before falling for him. A brain of her own, always going against me.
“We’re not a couple and the physical contact is because I don’t have Eren and I don’t want to be whoring around, throwing myself at Adam,” I justified with an innocent expression. Annie’s resolve was shaken to the point she reclined in her chair and groaned in obvious defeat, making me bite back a smirk.
“Fine, you’re my best friend and I choose to believe you, but I assure you nobody else would, no matter how convincingly detached your arguments are.” I threw her a conceited look and she snorted prior to meeting my gaze, a new question at the tip of her tongue. “On a similar topic, Ackerman’s somebody who can get chicks wherever he goes, but he only has eyes and ears for you. Sounds like love to me.” Her nonchalant manner of stating it only proved she was yet to change the topic and went about pursuing answers a different way.
“Sounds like care to me. He’s told me he cares and just this morning we re-established our friend labels, so I’m hardly inclined to believe he has feelings for me other than that.” I shrugged, reluctantly leaning back and tilting my head at Annie challengingly. She was far from manipulating me into admitting anything, but she thought otherwise, as shown by the next argument she blurted out.
“So what’s his excuse for kissing you?” Oh, how sardonic a question. She was smirking and I tried not to give the reaction she awaited – embarrassment and being flustered on the topic of something I myself considered confusing. I took a big breath and flashed a big benevolent smile before licking my lips in mild spite. Innocent until proven guilty, so please let me be innocent despite the evidence.
“Ask him, not me,” I countered calmly, knowing Annie was bluffing to check how vigorously I’d defend myself in case I’d been lying for the past few minutes. She was disappointed, to say the least, almost making me smile at the weird reaction. Any person in her stead would beam in exultation.
“All I’m saying is,” she began diplomatically,” you’re oblivious dumbasses and you need to start noticing it, taking into account how intelligent you are otherwise.” Her position remained in the same spot. Levi and I were idiots, who, in her opinion, liked each other. How stupid a notion. I might’ve had my period of infatuation, but my father’s intern would never get to his and that was something I believed as unconditionally as I’d believed in the Tooth Fairy as a kid.
“Oh, shut up. I don’t want to hear this from you, Miss No-I-Won’t-Accept-Erwin-Likes-Me-Until-He-Straight-Up-Offers-Me-Marriage,” I drawled mockingly, making the blonde snort so violently my nostrils gave hers their condolences.
“Go suck a dick.” My best friend’s love confession came in its usual harsh manner, so cordial and forced it made me laugh before I shot it down.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to teach me how first.” She threw herself across the table at me, pretending to choke me while seething with embarrassment. I cackled and the bullet was dodged when she joined me. Some questions were answered. I only hoped I’d given the appropriate answers, not the versions best suited to my pitiful nature. But manipulating myself into believing something I knew was a lie wasn’t possible. Right?
Later the same night, I received the following message:
I need a break from this vacation.
If it wasn’t obvious enough who it was from, clearly enough attention was not being paid to the whole of this. When my father’s intern texted me, I was brought back to my conversation with Annie. I’d been honest with her. I knew the signs of liking somebody and they were nowhere to be found. No butterflies, no heart palpitations, no obsessiveness, even normal things like a healthy pinch of jealousy were absent.
You’re a fucking idiot, asshole. Who gets tired from relaxation? I pressed send, absent-minded and thoughtful, trying to compare my feelings for Eren to those for Levi. I wasn’t dumb – I knew different kinds of love existed, but if I had to measure scores and grade my own feelings, those for Eren – albeit faded – still won. Strange.
I obviously do. I don’t feel comfortable wasting my time like this. I picked up my phone when it dinged, letting me read the ridiculous reply. How introverted and workaholic of him. Both traits were justfied, though. Everything about him was justified by past experiences whereas with Eren the unexplainable was also unexpected, always a surprise. The spurts of rage in our junior year, his unreasonable obsession with boxing, his fits of suspicion and accusations, the tic he developed back in middle school – all things I couldn’t explain no matter how much I analysed them.
What do you say about a movie marathon when you come back? I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to rid you of even more work. I sent the text and dropped the phone on my stomach, plopping back on my bed with a sigh. Levi was different from Eren – his whole character was a set of action-reaction workings. I was poor as a child with a mother who worked too much to clean – so let’s be obsessed with everything being clean. My mother’s my reason for living, she’s sick and money’s the solution – so let’s work myself to the bone. Attachments hurt because I’ve gotten burned and I dislike them – so let’s be hostile to everybody to prevent them. If I do it, it’ll be done right and it’ll succeed and if not, only I’ll be to blame – so let’s be a control-freak. Petra’s death and Kuchel’s condition were things he blamed himself for despite that.
It’s a deal if you leave the organisation to me. The message snapped me out of my daze. I was thankful he hadn’t called me because he’d most certainly ask why I sounded weird and I didn’t want to explain it was because I was admiring the way in which a machine with so many broken parts worked flawlessly enough to deceive the majority.
Oh, no! I don’t know what I’ll do without my right to make popcorn and pick the movies. The sarcastic reply didn’t match the expression on my face. You know mom and dad will be visiting their usual hotel around that time, right? Double-texting – oh, the humiliation.
Doesn’t make a difference. First, there was something warm in my chest. It was cute how, bit by bit, native English speakers were corrupting the strict Subject-Verb-Object structure he’d been taught at school. Then, there was that other thing. He was lying. I wondered if he also felt a little pinch when I lied to him as well. I doubted it. Wouldn’t have an inch of skin left to pinch.
It will for me because I’ll be able to scream at the TV. The short reasoning left me staring at the ceiling mindlessly. The buzz of Levi’s reply distracted me. I processed now what we’d been texting about. A movie marathon sounded good. The fact he’d agreed was good too, slightly suspicious taking into account he’d most likely want to work instead, but still good.
Fine. Day of return or the one after? It was unlike Like, this question. I didn’t dwell it on and hummed in thought before deciding I didn’t want to think anymore at all. My head was about to blow up with all these feelings I was trying to decipher.
We’ll decide on the move. I think you should be going to bed now. A headache was pushing at my temples. The best course of action was to cut this short. He’d rest and I’d fetch myself an aspirin from my father’s office. Sweet dreams, asshole. I was staring at the message, characteristic but not sarcasic, when his reply popped up – longer than expected. Also wittier and slightly flirtatious, upon further observation.
Make sure yours have me in them. I have to babysit you constantly, after all. Goodnight, princess. I blinked at my phone for the overall of ten seconds before turning it off and pressing it against my chest. A wondrous grin pulled at the corners of my mouth. No signs of love – no butterflies, no giddiness, no accelerated heartbeat. Why the smile though? I buried my face in my pillow. My feet kicked around.
“(Y/N), stop squealing in the middle of the night! I don’t need this six hours before my alarm rings!” My mother’s reproachful shriek made my feet halt in the air as if held up by invisible strings. I hadn’t realised I’d squealed. I propped myself up and clamped my mouth shut in shame. I didn’t know what got into me, acting like… like this, whatever this was.
“Sorry, mom!” I called sheepishly, having done the damage already. I plopped down but there was no squealing this time. There was only more of that grinning I didn’t understand. No lies there. It frustrated me that I didn’t know myself well enough, wasn’t smart enough to understand it. Pointing out the many things I lacked, however, didn’t help me understand it either.
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“I watered the garden, baked a fucking batch of cookies, roasted a whole-ass chicken, cleaned the whole house and I’m still bored,” I groaned into the speaker and Levi took some time to process everything I’d said. True to my words, I’d started the day with a shower and a deep-clean of the house. Once all the germs had been annihilated, I’d decided to cook, then when the house stank of food and I’d opened the door to the backyard, I’d seen the rose bushes were in need of watering, which was exactly what I’d handled next. Now I was bored out of my mind, a pair of sunglasses perched atop the bridge of my nose as I lied in the grass, looking like I was about to invent a new kind of snow angel without the snow.
“Good afternoon to you as well,” the raven-haired intern greeted flatly. I only groaned again, eyes straying towards the roses surrounding me and the pool to my left – beautiful but not entertaining. I pushed my sunglasses up the bridge of my nose and scratched the back of my neck where the grass tickled it.
“Good afternoon, asshole. I want you to tell me a story.” The command was met with silence, muffled waves crashing into sand, some clearing of the throat, a single sigh devoid of positive emotions and the cry of a hungry seagull. I cringed, nose scrunching up at the noise before it made me realise Levi was on the beach, probably lying on a towel and dealing with me instead of having fun.
“There was once an eighteen-year-old princess who---”
“An actual story,” I cut off quickly, not appreciating the sarcasm. The raven snorted in that specific way I knew was always accompanied by a narrow of his eyes. I wondered if he had sunglasses on and if he did – would they leave a ridiculous mask while the rest of his face reddened in the sun? Maybe he’d put on sunscreen. I couldn’t help smiling at the image of his red nose and on top of it – a thick layer of white cream. The thought – logical even in being unreasonable – that followed made my smile turn upside down. It went like this:
If he’d applied sunscreen, who’d been the one to get his back? The pretty German blondie?
“It is an actual story. I thought your highness liked being the main character.” His mockery put my train of thought back on track only so it coud then start a self-deprecating game of Cards Against Humanity with asshole-me. Funny how I was isolated to the point I had to listen to my own conscience insult me.
“I get tired of being me. I don’t want to listen about myself right now,” I said pointedly. Maybe I was jealous he was on vacation with my father when I had to stay at home and be a self-taught maid on minimum wage of zero dollars per hour, but I couldn’t help it – the intern had gradually shifted our family’s dynamic and it frustrated me that he’d managed it in less than six months without even trying.
“Fine, something else is it then,” he concluded with a sign of defeat. I listened intently, pressing the phone closer to my ear. “I really wanted a pet when I was younger, but my mother said we couldn’t afford it. One day, there was a downpour and I was returning from high school. Tucked by the entrance was a drenched kitten. Meeting you reminded me of that.” The small addition made my eyes close in mild bashfulness at the expected softness in his voice. He cleared his throat and proceeded while I imagined him in the grass next to me though he’d refuse to sit down. “Anyways. I took pity on it and took it inside. I kept it a secret for a whole week before it took a shit in the middle of the living room and blew our cover.”
“And Kuchel?” I bit back a chuckle at the conclusion of the story. I could imagine a young Levi bathing and taking care of a little black kitten (no other colour made sense), having to shush its meowing as he went to sleep because his mother could hear. It was a cute little picture, an ebony-haired teenager feeding a charcoal-coloured ball of fur in secret. The notion seemed simple and pure. A small act of kindness which had formed a bond.
“What do you think?” He asked, voice devoid of snark. As brief as my conversation with Kuchel had been, I gathered she was probably the kindest and most selfless person I’d ever talked to. Needless to say, she’d passed down a big part of that to her son, but he, defensive and skeptical, had decided to cover it in multiple layers of indifference and reluctance. He saved it up, but his mother gave it away like she had an endless reserve.
“I think she agreed to keep it. She probably pulled the usual parent-speech and said it would help you become more responsible,” I said, confident in my logic but earger to receive confirmation. It reminded of a childhood memory. Hitch and I had been arguing and I’d run to my father for support, only to be told I’d been wrong. Bawling in outrage, I’d felt my father’s hands take mine as he prompted me (“Come on, princess. Anything at all.”) to say something. The only thing six-year-old me had come up with (“I love you.”) had been typical and childish. His smile had turned into a grin, soft and ground and his response (“That’s right. And I love you, (Y/N), because you’re my most important thing, not because you can subtract numbers.”) had made it one of my fondest memories of my father, so uncharacteristically loving it could make me laugh now.
“It doesn’t take a lot to figure out my mother. Yes, we kept the fur ball and I took care of it for a while until Isabel’s allergies made us give it away. My best friend – Farlan – took it in.” The explanation prompted a mental note of the name I hadn’t heard until now.
“What did you name it?” I piped, realising I’d missed the most important part of the story. Levi kept silent – strangely so. He was hesitant, I realised, probably because he didn’t want me to hear it. If I had luck, it would be something stupid and cute, like Mr. Snuggles or Fufu.
“… Pluie.” The pitiful yet stoic utterance came as a shock, the rude awakening that he, too, had been a naïve teenager once upon a time. I laughed so loudly I heard a bird take flight from the branch of a tree a few feet away. My stomach twisted in amusement.
“You seriously named the cat rain?” I spoke between fits of giggles, sensing Levi’s annoyance rise to boil on the other end of the line, like a kettle threatening to burst. My ear became collateral damage as a result of the spillage.
“I was a fucking fourteen-year-old, don’t give me shit about that,” he scolded, imperative tone with an embarrassed tinge that only made me laugh harder. I rolled around the grass, clutching my phone with one hand and my abdomen with the other. I imagined Levi’s constipated expression – tired and as far from amused as a face could go – with his sunglasses on his nose and the breeze making his locks sway slightly. I wondered if he’d give up on me completely and end the call, but he waited for me to calm down and speak again instead.
“… I love it,” I concluded warmly after a small pause. He sighed but I couldn’t pinpoint the kind of face that went with it. A smile stretched my lips when an idea hit me – so innocent and naïve it couldn’t go unspoken. “If I visit France someday, I want to see him.”
“He’s a really vicious cat, but I’m sure you’ll get along since you’re both spoiled,” he hummed, nonchalant and in the mood to humour me. I snorted, a bitter smile surfacing as I gazed up at the sky – so beautiful it annoyed me to look at. It was a strange logic, but the blue reminded of the specks and thinking of them reminded of the fact I couldn’t see them, wouldn’t see them for four more days. I let my lids drop to avoid the sight.
“Very funny,” I stated, a scornful type of ice dripping off my tongue – as fake as my Aunt Petunia’s smiles if not directed at darling George. I paused, reaching for my sunglasses and let my thoughts drift in a brand new direction. “If you had your own house one day,” my voice was curious like a child’s, “would you take Pluie back?” I needn’t ponder the answer because he’d give it any second now.
“Of course. He might be an annoying fur ball I’ll constantly have to clean up after, but he’s a good companion.” I imagined him still lying on his towel, warm sand tickling his feet like the grass tickled mine, with his firm gaze glued to the horizon. His expression wouldn’t fit the sunscreen smeared on his face, making it almost comical. I wished to bear witness to it. Alas, I was in my backyard, rolling around in the grass like a dog and praying not to die of boredom. The roses and the empty pool kept me company, but neither provided comfort – Levi’s voice was there for that.
“I don’t know why but imagining you with an animal is nearly impossible,” I half-mocked, half-admitted, hoping he would come to notice neither. Instead, he noticed both and, as always, wasn’t one bit moved by the lack of subtlety in the tactless display.
“That’s because Pluie is the only animal I tolerate. Others require too much care and effort. Some are also exceptionally nasty,” he explained, simple and succinct, and him to the point it made my smile like he’d told a joke. My lids fluttered open and I lifted my left hand to my face. The silver band reflected the sun into my narrowed eyes.
“You sound like a terrible person when you talk like that, asshole. Thank God for Pluie,” I joked, mesmerised by the ring’s sheen. Holding the phone between my ear and shoulder, I took it off and held it up. When I squinted, the miniature circle seemed to encapsulate the great blue sky and all its clouds. I speculated, like a scientist on the brink of a great discovery, if this was how majestic everything would look as seen thought the silver band. The house would be a palace with sculptured and paintings, the garden – a vast field of exotic flowers, the roses – whole worlds of aroma, the plain grass – God’s rendition of the most simplistic of loveliness. It was either the wonder of happiness borne of marriage or just a hallucination my mind graced me with prior to a stroke.
“I hear you judging, but you’re not an ardent animal lover yourself.” Levi’s words made me blink like somebody had clapped their hands in front of my face, waking me from a trance. The silver ring slipped from my hold and rolled in the grass. I mindlessly propped myself on my elbows to look for it.
“That one wasn’t up to me. I wanted a dog when I was little, but my parents were too busy almost getting divorced to care and when that died down, they didn’t trust me enough with a pet. By the time I got into high school, I got used to the idea. That’s that.” My hands roamed the ground, feverishly seeking the ring. My panic dissipated when I felt it – an instant sedative.
“If you come to France, I could let you take care of Pluie,” the intern suggested ever so kindly. I collapsed next to my fallen sunglasses, slipping the ring back on my finger with a huff. The urge to be leading this conversation with him face to face was burning, insistent and annoying.
“Your offer is too generous. I doubt there’s a future for me in France besides being Pluie’s caretaker and that wouldn’t pay much, would it now?” I mocked weakly, voice soft and casual.
“I’ll make sure I support you properly, princess. It’s only my duty as your friend.” The stiffness in his timbre was odd, like something having found shelter in the wrong place. Maybe the universe was laughing at my expression or maybe it was just the echo of asshole-me cackling so hysterically she almost choked. Served her right. I was silent and tense all over and the intern was attempting to become the one snack I couldn’t afford to have. I was on a fucking diet for fuck’s sake. Then there was that voice again – the perfect blondie – calling his name.
“And I can hear your new friend calling in the back. We should probably---”
“Hold up. Don’t you dare hang up like last time,” he cut off my haste, threatening without actually telling me what the consequences would be. “We’ll talk about this when I get back. Don’t jump to conclusions, princess. Understood?” He was the strict babysitter and I was the child, even though I didn’t feel like one. I felt like I did that one time Eren told me (“I don’t see the point in me flirting with others when I have you.”) not to worry about other girls, when he held my hand and looked into my eyes, promising (“I love you so fucking much you have no idea.” “Die for me and all that jazz, yeah?” “No. I’ll live for you because that’s way harder.”) he loved nobody but me. Only me.
“Understood, asshole. Have fun.” I smiled despite the little gnawing feeling at the back of my mind. I felt calm and at ease when he hung up even when the blondie kept calling his name. I trusted him like I trusted Eren because he’d had eyes only for me. Little spoiled me. How I’d fucked us both over. How mean. Levi, I was sure, didn’t have eyes only for me even if Annie would argue herself to the moon and back disproving it, but I trusted him just as unconditionally. That part was my own duty.
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tag list: @unloved-cadillac ; @donaldthrts
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thefangirlofhp · 2 years
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10. blue skies
When the swarm of dubious thoughts spread in her thoughts, Elain often is predisposed to wondering who would be there to pull her upright if she is to fall and then, she remembers painfully that she has already fallen, and has her answer. It’s of no constructive consequence, but sometimes you just had to entertain the devil speaking in your thoughts. She doesn’t allow it to affect her days, or her behavior, but there’s something to be said for the crestfallen feeling befalling her heart at contemplating the answer.
A rather dramatic trail of thoughts for her current predicament, but no-one claimed that manipulation came easy. Besides, Cassian’s giant body knocked the breath from her chest, and sensible thought from her mind the kind that would leave the victim finding themselves contemplating the laws of nature when staring at the clear blue sky from their defeated knocked-down position.
The shadow of a person casts itself on her face, blocks the blazing hot sun from frying her face and brain in its skull and though she cannot see the person’s face, she is enough state of mind to deduce that particular expression.
“All-right down there?”
“Yes, yes,” she wheezes around the words instead of lying cohesively. Her chest and abdomen rises and fall like waves of the sea as she heaves in breath and blow it out. “Just, as you can see, admiring the sky.”
“Particularly interesting today, is it?”
“Oh marginally so,” she nods faintly against the sand beneath her head, and the world spins a little. “Changes everyday. Wise men often do nothing but this.”
Azriel looks up at the sky, and then back down at her. “Same as yesterday’s sky. And the past few millennia, I believe.”
“Well, we’d never know that unless we study it everyday now, do we?”
His voice smiles as he squints at her, hunching over and planting his hands on his knees. “You’re not by chance recovering from being knocked down on your arse, are you?”
“What? Was I? No I’m just having a lie-down. Don’t mind me.”
“Yes, lying down in the middle of a game has nothing to do with the three hundred pounds of Illyrian muscle that just barreled right into you, does it?”
“That’s what it was?” She splutters a laugh. “Oh good, I thought it was an unknown vengeful force claiming my life.”
“Want a hand?”
Elain blinks at the sky, seagulls squawking and calling to one another in the distant background masked by the competitive shouts of the game of ball taking place around them. Someone is shouting, but Elain’s displaced thoughts cannot make out who or what is being said, and the sound of the leather ball being smacked around flares phantom pain in the back of Elain’s skull and she feels her lunch regurgitating at the thought of sitting up and the inevitable dizziness of the position.
“No, I’m happy to lie down here,” she manages, folding her hands over her middle. “Still haven’t finished observing the sky, you know?”
The sand shifts. A loud smack of the ball and its whistle through the air as it catapults its way through what Elain deduces the target, judging from the whooping and the yells of agitation.
“AZRIEL YOU’RE MEANT TO MIND THE FUCKING GOAL, NOT THE ENEMY!” Rhys roars, undoubtedly clawing at his own face and hair judging by the strain of his yell.
The sun flares sharply once more in her face as her shade is withdrawn abruptly, forcing her to close her eyes. A heavy thud at her side tells her he’s joined her in this spontaneous sun-bathing activity, and sand flies over her legs and hands as the vibrations from his thud resolve into the earth.
“Oh, what a delightfully clear sky and what excellent shades of blue we have today,” he remarks conversationally and it’s all Elain can do to hold back her spluttering laugh. Can’t do anything for the smile spreading on her lips though. The ball soars over their lying bodies, following it the barefooted Feyre leaping over them, shortly shadowed by her own frustrated mate trying to save themselves from another point.
To no avail, if Nesta and Morrigan’s celebratory cheers are an indication and Cassian’s drawn out groan. Nothing brings out the competitive immaturity like a game brought on by flared tempers, insulted egos and bets.
“AZRIEL FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING HOLY!” Cassian shrieks.
“That’s a nasty looking seagull, don’t you think?” Azriel nods to a menacing looking one of the birds perched in an intimidating line along the beach fence and watching the game taking place. Elain looks over, shading her eyes as she squints at the creature and gasps.
“You see it too! He took my sandwich! I thought I imagined the malicious look in his eyes but it’s there, isn’t it?!”
“Oh definitely,” Azriel frowns. “Look at him. He looks like he makes children drop their ice-cream for fun.”
“Villain.”
“Elain,” calls out Amren as their referee from her perch on the walkway with Nyx at her side. “Plan on getting up any time soon?”
“I’m waiting on justice for that particular foul,” she calls back. “Not really,” she adds under her breath to her sunbathing companion. “I’m milking this much as I can, I can’t adequately express how terrified I am of Cassian coming to take the ball from me like that.”
“Like a charging boar,” Azriel chuckles as he folds his arms behind his head.
“It was fair and square!” Cassian’s shout is forced into a higher-pitched octave with his indignation.
“Yeah!” Rhys shouts, cradling the ball under his elbow. “Besides we’re loosing as many goals because fucking Az thinks the game is over!”
“Really lovely weather, don’t you think?”
“Oh surely,” she agrees. “I wonder if we’ll have such a pleasant day again.”
“You’re the Seer,” he points out.
“Fair enough. Give me a moment to find out.”
“Azriel get up!” Rhys shouts, before Feyre knocks the ball from his hold and runs off with it, applauded by Nyx’s hysteric laughter as his father chases after his mother. “Varian mind the goal!” He squeaks over his shoulder distractedly.
“Why do your brothers turn into preadolescent-sounding boys when they’re losing?”
“It’s the ego,” Azriel answers wisely. “Can’t handle losing to a bunch of girls. I suppose at the end of it all we’re just immature children pretending to be adults.”
“What an excellent observation,” Elain remarks. “See what watching the sky does to a person’s mind?”
“Must be why you’re infinitely wise, then.”
She laughs softly, crosses her ankles and smiles against the sun.
Elain knows what would happen should she’d fall, but there’s a special satisfactory quality to knowing that someone out there would forsake things—anything, really—to come lay down and join her side. Something pleasant and heartwarming beyond the borders of a hot summer-day game at the beach, the kind that imprints a warm impression on her to be carried into darker, colder times when the devil liked to talk.
Winning the game by lying down and getting the skilled goalkeeper to join her didn’t hurt, either. Her team is going to be ecstatic that her wager paid off.
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jayjaymorgan · 1 year
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Tie Me to the Mast - Chapter II
Author’s Note : Sorry it took so long, guys. Thank you all for your patience as I dealt with my sick cat. He's a little bit better now, if you're interested in helping us paying for his treatment, feel free to head over to @farkmagic Koffi. Please remember that English isn't my native language, so there might be some mistakes and stuff. I hope you all like it, have a great day/night!
TW : none (?)
It’s been nearly half a day since they saw the seagull.
The bird disappeared long ago and they were still in the middle of the ocean. The hope and enthusiasm turned to sadness and a feeling of disappointment, as the crew continued bailing out the water under the scorching sun. Rex was still standing at the steering wheel, his lips so dry that it felt like they were sealed shut with wax. His muscles ached from standing in the same position, but he was too tired to move, if he did he would most likely fall over. His tired mind started playing tricks on him, as every time he blinked he could swear that he saw something in the distance or in the corner of his eye. He wasn’t the only one, as Ahsoka mistook a cloud for land several times in the past few hours. It brought his a weird sense of comfort, knowing that he wasn’t going crazy. Or, maybe, they all have fallen victim to the sea fever and he was just glad that he wasn’t the only one. He decided not to dwell on it, to save his energy but mainly not to go insane just by thinking about all the possibilities. He closed his eyes, the swaying of the ship lulling him into a restless trance. He secretly hoped to never open his eyes again, but that thought was interrupted by a voice, calling out from above. “I think I see land!” Rex couldn’t help but groan, as he got up and looked at Ahsoka, who was climbing down the mast. “You sure?” he did his best to hide his irritation, as the girl landed next to him, the wood creaking under her weight. “You sure it’s not a cloud?”
“No, I’m sure. This one, it looks... more solid, if that makes sense.” she pointed at something as she spoke, up ahead. “Just, look.” Rex walked to the starboard and squinted his eyes, accompanied by Hunter, who got up on the bulwark to get a better look. “I think she’s right.” the man said, before wiping the sweat from his ink covered face. “That’s definitely land, no doubt.” A few more crewmembers joined them, pointing and talking loudly, voicing their agreement with the girl. Some remained skeptical, Rex being one of them. He knew that he couldn’t handle another disappointment, as he was sure that the said island was going to be another cloud. But, as the ‘Devil’s Hound’ continued to head east, the blurred grey line on the horizon started to take shape and more details came into focus, he couldn’t help but to cheer alongside his brothers and sisters. “It’s land.” he said. “It’s an island. We did it.” Ahsoka looked up at her older friend, a smile forming on her dried and cracked lips. “Wherever the island may lay.” she whispered.
As the ship circled the island, it turned out that that there was no place to come to anchor. The island was surrounded by a long line of cliffs, which were covered in thick greenery. Waves crashed into them in unison, sending white foam flying into the air and showering the sailors with salty rain as they swam by. “There’s a lot of trees.”  Hunter noted. “There has to be fresh water near.” “But first, we need to get there.” the captain craned his neck to look around, hoping to see a some sort of a beach or an opening. The rest followed suit, dozen pairs of eyes scanning the rock wall for any type of crack. No luck. The ship reached a turning point, now swimming against the wind, which caused the sails to flap uncontrollably before falling down and hanging loosely against the masts. “Starboard tack, trim the jib sheet!” Rex ordered, as he turned the helm to encircle the island. “We’ll turn around, see if there’s anything on the other side!” The crew got to work, adjusting the sails, before stopping dead in their tracks when someone called out from the bow. “There’s an opening in the rocks!” They turned around and, sure enough, saw a gap, hidden behind the cliffs and greenery of the trees and shrubs. It wasn’t visible until they passed it, revealing itself to them as they turned the ship around. “It’s a beach.” someone else said, pointing at it. “We can stop there.” “Furl the sails, get to rowing!” the captain ordered, before looking up and shouting. “Ahsoka, can you see anything?” “Fives’ right, it’s a beach!” she responded, standing on het tip-toes in the crow’s nest. “Looks okay to me!” Rex let out a breath of relief, feeling like a heavy weight was lifted from his shoulder. He steered the ship forward, heading for the gap, as it speed up, powered by the oars. The said opening was quite big, a little over a mile in diameter, which was plenty of room for the boat to pass through without any problems. Behind the stone wall was a long and wide bay, with deep yet clear water, smooth reef covered in corals and sand, buzzing with life.
The beach stretched on a few hundred feet up before slowly fading out into a thick, green forest, where curious birds hopped from branch to branch, observing the newcomers. A small river of fresh cut though the beach, falling into the sea, it’s source being the mighty waterfall that was overlooking the bay like a roaring beast, cascading down one of the many cliffs. With their combined forces, the crewmen somehow pulled the damaged ship onto the soft sand, groaning and cursing in unison. Now, they could truly see the extent of the damage : the hole, that was ripped in the side of the boat during the storm, was much bigger than they originally thought. The wood around it was splintered and discolored, with jagged edges that no one risked to touch, in fear of getting hurt. “What now?” Kix asked, looking at his captain. “I don’t know about you...” Rex said, a smirk forming on his face as he looked in the direction of the waterfall. “...but I’ll have something to drink.”
They all sat at the foot of the waterfall, sipping the cold, fresh water out of their pint mugs, the fogginess and tiredness slowly washing away. Some groaned as the fire in their mouths and throats was extinguished, some sat in silence, while others talked, their voices still hoarse but no longer filled with pain. Rex groaned as he stood up, his legs shaking from how exhausted he was, his eyes scanning the terrain as he tried to pick a place for camp. The obvious choice would be setting it next to the waterfall : firstly, it would provide them with fresh water at all times, secondly, the tall rock wall could shield them from strong winds and possible attacks, if the island turned out to be inhabited by foes. He lifted up his arms, but after a second they fell limply at his sides. The sudden movement made him stumble, as his vision turned black for just a second. He shook his head, trying to chase away the fog that was clouding his mind, before focusing on the task at hand. They would have to make a small barricade around the camp, preferably from rocks, but there was nowhere near enough of them around. What else could they use for the said fence? He hissed, rubbing his eyes. “Yer lookin’ a bit peely wally.” Obi-Wan said, approaching, a worried look on his face. “Evry’hing alright?” “We need to set camp. And make a barricade around it.” he responded, letting out a sigh. “We should get to work.” “No.” the man said, grabbing the blond by his shoulder. “We shuid get to work. Ye, get some sleep.” “But I’m the captain...” Obi-Wan nodded. “’At right. But we’re on land now, so we can take care of it.” “It’s my responsibility, to take care of the crew.” “Out in th’ sea, yes. On land, we can take over some of th’ duties.” he explained as he dragged the tired man away, motioning for Kix to get some blankets. “Sit.” Rex did as he was told, the tiredness hitting him like a blow to the face. He blinked a few times, looking up as the medic approached, with a few blankets in hands. “Here.” he laid the fabric down, smoothing it out. “Should be comfortable enough.” “Get in.” “But...” “Do ye want me to get me spoon?” the cook threaten, referring to the wooden piece of cutlery he would use to beat some sense into misbehaving crew members, by hitting them on their heads. “I said, get in. We’ll wake ye up when we need something.” Rex knew that it was pointless to argue, so he laid down on the thin blanket, before using the second one to cover himself. Even though the bed was crude, it seemed like heaven and he found himself drifting off the moment he laid down. “Maybe you’re right.” he said sleepily. “I’ll take a nap, for twenty minutes or...” Before he could finish his sentence, he fell asleep, a quiet snore escaping his mouth. The cook only shook his head. “Sure, twenty minutes.” he scoffed, before taking off the captain’s shoes and setting them down at the foot of the bed. He then turned to the crew. “Let’s get to work.”
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nehswritesstuffs · 5 months
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fly little seagull, that rock can be home - Part 1
I’m back! With another Trafalgar Nauja fic! [*confetti*] I was working on this alongside fly little seagull, you’re too far from the nest, because I’m apparently a sadist, but I knew I couldn’t let 13k words go to waste, and now it’s over 30k words and counting after being distracted by a bunch of other things, and although I didn’t set out to make this series a choose-your-own-adventure with Law and this OC child, that’s what it’s turned into and I wish I could say I’m sorry but I’m not in the slightest.
8568 words to start; deviates from the main story in the second section of the third chapter (so, like, 17.5k words in) and then this storyline effectively replaces the rest of the main fic in this continuum; tldr: Law is morphing into a little kid’s Cora-san and is about to say what he thinks is his final goodbye to her pre-Dressrosa; much slower in pace than the other variations of this fic, but also will be much steamier and domestic; there are so many fcking OCs in this that it’s almost just Law in OC Land for a long while and I am not sorry; shout out to all in the Rare Pears server for putting up with me and my nonsense they are true fandom heroes lol, as is Rimetin for being this fic’s first victim
fly little seagull, that rock can be home; Law is about to leave the Polar Tang as he heads to certain Death on Dressrosa. Then he goes to say goodbye to one specific person, only for half a lifetime’s worth of motivation to vanish in an instant. [AU where Law acquires a kid and realize the true gift Cora-san wanted for him]
The girl’s words piqued his interest. “You want to do medical illustrations?”
“Yeah! Well, I still want to be a doctor, like you, but I also want to be able to do drawings! I’m not very good at those yet, but I’m gonna practice real hard!” She pulled another drawing from her desk and showed him; it was a copy of an illustration of a hand’s skeletal structure from one of his textbooks. “See? I’m not good at that yet, but I’m still learning, right?”
“You are,” he agreed, chest filling with pride. “This is wonderful, Nauja-ya. You are very talented.” He watched as she put them away and sat next to him.
“What did you want to talk about?” she wondered. “Are we going to an island where I have to behave extra? I don’t like those islands.”
“No, actually…” He swallowed hard. “I’m…” He saw her face and all the happiness and joy it contained, melting away his prior conviction. How could he chose dying at the hands of Doflamingo over raising this child? Was getting revenge for Cora-san worth throwing away the gifts the man had given him in the first place? Maybe what he owed that foul-mouthed, accident-prone, absolute flaming mess of a spy—who was honestly the best spy he had ever seen—was to live and love. That that would be the best revenge levied on a man who never understood either. He still didn’t wholly understand why he did it after all these years, but maybe… just maybe… taking care of this kid would give him the answers… could help him with his guilt… might finally give him some peace.
If nowhere was safe from Donquixote Doflamingo, then he was simply going to have to run until they found nowhere.
“You and I are going to have to take a special trip soon, away from the Tang,” he said. “Be prepared to pack in the morning, alright? It’s going to be an adventure.”
Nauja’s eyes lit up. An adventure?! With just her and Law-san?! This was going to be the best!
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
They didn’t often get new visitors in Hinba, which was one of the first things that the barman noticed about the pair. It had been a rainy evening when they arrived—not storming, just the steady, reliable autumn rain that could lull a person to sleep. It seemed fairly normal a night until they walked in: a tallish man with a piercing glare, both a pack and a sword slung across his back, and a small child hiding under his feathered cloak. They both appeared to be worn from travel, though the man more so. He let the child find a table near the back and he went up to the bar, the proprietor now able to see the dark circles under his eyes and the glint of two rings on a chain hiding in the unbuttoned folds of his shirt.
“Food and drink, please,” the man said, “and a room if you have one.” His accent was something near-completely foreign to the barman, making him stop for a moment. The stranger caught his hesitation and spoke slower. “You do serve food here, yes?”
“We do; just don’t normally get strangers, is all,” the barman shrugged. “We’re a bit out of the way for most, and even the trade routes aren’t always consistent.”
“Is there a doctor around?”
“You in need of one?”
“No, but I am one, and I’ve been looking for a place to set up shop where I can fill a void. A good physician upholding their oath means that everyone gets care.”
“I see.” The barman put a glass of beer and a bottle of pop on the counter. “Any requests for that food?”
“No allergies, but I’m not fond of bread or pickled things.”
“…and is the kid picky?”
“No; my daughter is less picky than I am if you’ll believe it.” The man took the drinks, tattoos spelling DEATH across his knuckles flashing in the low lamplight. “Do you have a room? I’d like to not sleep on our ship tonight.”
“Yeah, I can get you a real bed, but you’ll have to share. It’ll be ready by the time you’re done eating.”
The stranger nodded in silent thanks and took the drinks over to the corner where the child had already set up with what looked like a book and drawing set. It was curious, but then again, things did rarely happen on their island.
“What do you think is up with him?” one of the regulars wondered. The barman watched as the stranger put the drinks down and settled into a chair with his back to the wall.
“None of our business,” he shrugged. He watched the strange man for a moment, taking note of his interactions with the child. She was completely at-ease and he seemed tired by simply looking at her—yes, that was a father and his daughter. “Maybe we’ll find out eventually.”
“What, do you think they’ll stay?”
“Nearest doctor’s been a three-day sail for a long time now; there’s a chance.”
“With that bedside manner? No fucking thanks.”
“Eh, that’s not our decision to make.” The barman then put down the glass that he had been cleaning and went into the kitchen, getting two plates of food. He brought them out to the strangers, chuckling as he saw the girl’s eyes light up happily. “Hungry, kid?”
“Yeah!” She put aside what she was working on and bounced up and down in her seat. Huh… she was drawing what looked like a medical diagram… “Thanks for the food, Barman-ya!”
“Eat up, buttercup,” the barman said. Huh. Her accent wasn’t like her father’s, though it was clearly influenced by it. “So… where you strangers from?”
“Here and there,” the man replied. “We used to live on the Grand Line, but we needed a change of scenery.”
“The Grand Line…? Must have been an adventure getting to these southern waters…”
“It was.” The man took a careful bite of his food and tried to ignore the barman. When he realized the conversation wasn’t entirely over, he glanced up. “Yes…?”
“Just… nothing. You must have a familiar face.”
“He looks like a pirate!” the kid sad cheerily around her food.
“Famke…” the man warned with a gentle sternness.
“Well, you do…!” she insisted before turning towards the barman. “Vaor’s not that guy, but lots of people think he’s that guy, because the person who takes the bounty photos is bad at it. He tried complaining but it’s no good.”
“Is that so?” the barman chuckled. He could see the man’s face get dark with blush—it was obviously a sore point. “Well, don’t worry, kiddo; even if your da here was some big-shot, we don’t give a shite about that.”
“You don’t…?”
“Last time I checked, the World Government doesn’t give a damn about us, so the least we can do is make it mutual,” the barman explained. It was faint, but he could see the kid’s father relax a little in the shoulders. Ah—so he was concerned about that; no wonder. “You could round up more than a couple bounties here on Diura… just saying.”
“Then I’m sure you are more than underserved from a medical standpoint if you take such an attitude towards piracy,” the stranger said. He then nudged his daughter’s shoulder with the back of his hand to get her attention. “Chew with your mouth closed.” He sounded as though it was something he’d already said well over a thousand times in her life and would likely say a thousand more.
“…but Vaor…!”
The barman didn’t stick around to hear the end of the argument; their first new visitors in a long time needed a place to sleep.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Later on, upstairs in their rented room, Law and Nauja were getting ready for bed. They were separated by a changing screen as the girl pulled on her pajamas, her father already in a fresh pair of shorts as he sorted through the contents of his pack.
“Is this the place we’re gonna stay?” she wondered from behind the screen.
“It might be,” he replied. She came out with her day clothes neatly folded and placed them on a chair before climbing atop the bed. “We don’t have too much left if we want to have the money to start a clinic when we do settle.”
“What are you looking for?”
“The Den Den.” He then found the transponder snail’s shell—it was sleeping—and placed it in a tray on the nightstand with some lettuce. “Can’t ignore that for too long.”
“…or we can’t call my uncles!”
“Correct.” He waited until Nauja was under the bedding before he handed her Professor Nanuk so he could replace everything else in the pack. “Go to sleep now, famke.”
“Vaor…?”
“Hmm…?”
“How did you meet Moetje?”
He looked at her as she rested herself against her pillow, hugging her stuffed toy tightly. It was a practical move, he knew that much, but it was still disarming. If there was anyone listening in on them—and he would have been surprised if no one was—they could mistake his hesitation for a widow’s melancholy, especially if they stayed and the rest of their story ended up sticking.
“We were in classes together,” he replied gently, deciding on a story. “It’s easy to not pay attention to who else is in the room when you’re in med school because you’re trying to concentrate on not failing, but partway through our first term I finally looked behind me and there she was…” He put their pack on the table and went into the bed, glad for how warm Nauja was against the chill of the rain. Reaching back into his memory, he tried to remember the name of a classmate… someone he barely recalled, but knew needed a memorial… because all of Flevance did. “Antje was a year older than me, and my fifteen-year-old heart couldn’t take how pretty she was.”
“Yeah… Moetje was pretty, wasn’t she?”
“She really was.” Fuck… he didn’t even know if he liked women, let alone anyone at all. That was something he might figure out now that he was a civilian… he just needed to find where they were going to settle first. “Go to sleep, alright? We have a lot to do tomorrow.”
“Mmmhmm…” She burrowed in close and quickly drifted off, her hand unconsciously reaching for the rings still on the chain on his neck. “I love you, Law-san.”
“I love you too, Nauja-ya,” he whispered back. He opened a Room long enough to turn off the lights and tried to go to sleep himself, though he knew it would be light and fitful as it had been since they left the Tang.
What the fuck had he gotten himself into?
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
“I’ve made an important decision,” he told the late-night collection of his crew. “I cede captainship of the Heart Pirates and am going to live a civilian life.”
The entire mess hall was so quiet one could almost hear everyone breathing.
“Wait… what?!” Penguin abruptly stood, absolutely flabbergasted. “What the fuck?!”
“What got into your head?” Shachi asked. He stared down the younger man, trying to get a read on his face. “This was not part of the plan.”
“What plan?” Jean Bart asked.
“Yeah, what plan?”
“What’s going on?”
“What aren’t you telling us?”
“Quiet,” Law insisted, the room going silent again. “I was supposed to leave tonight to enact a plan to take out Donquixote Doflamingo and his criminal operation at its roots. Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo were supposed to be in charge while I did that anyhow. Everyone was supposed to hide in the Mokomo Dukedom until after it was safe…” He swallowed. “…well after I died at his hands.”
“Why fuck with Doflamingo?” Clione wondered. “Man’s a psychopath, sure, and what do we care that he’s an underworld broker? We just know what to avoid.”
“Doflamingo killed someone important to me once,” Law explained frankly, “and the past thirteen years of my life have been about me figuring out how to get revenge. I was saying my goodbyes to Nauja and…” he sighed, choking up, “…I can’t do it. I spent half my life meticulously planning how I was going to go out in a blaze of glory as I possibly killed one man… and I realized that, as I looked at Nauja, I didn’t know what I was going to do if I survived… that I didn’t know if I could ever forgive myself for choosing death over raising her.” He felt hot tears stream down his cheeks as he licked his lips and avoided looking at anyone else in the crew. This was more information than he ever wanted to share, but knew that if anyone deserved it, it was them. “That person… he’d want me to live… to raise a child while growing older than my father ever got the chance to be… because that’s what he wanted to do with me when I was a kid…”
“…but Doflamingo denied you both that,” Jean Bart said, his voice grave and even. “Nauja is a chance to have that life and honor the one who saved you. A gentle revenge.”
“Can’t we just help you take him down?!” someone asked. Law shook his head.
“To go up against Doflamingo is choosing dying at his hands rather than raising her; I’d never forgive myself, more so if any of you were involved.”
“…but what if we wanted to help raise her too?”
“Please, just… let me be selfish. I just realized that I have a chance to truly be free of all this and… I can never repay you all for what you’ve done, so please…”
Law was cut off by the scraping of a chair against the floor. Everyone looked and saw that Bepo was now standing, tears in the Mink’s eyes.
“You’re going to have to tell us all about how the two of you are doing on a regular basis,” he insisted. “If we can’t be there, then we at least deserve that much.”
“Bepo, I…”
“I’m going to miss you,” the navigator cried. He lumbered up to his captain—no, his best friend—and tackled him in a shaky hug. “What would I have done without you?”
“Electrocute the goobers before you entered your teens?”
“You know what the bear means,” Penguin interjected. He and Shachi looked at one another, then Law. “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”
Law nodded, croaking out a tiny “Yeah.”
“Dreams change all the fucking time,” Shachi shrugged. “Sometimes all it takes is chasing one to realize you were after something else all along. Right?”
The thing was that he didn’t realize how right his words were.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Morning came, bringing sunshine with it. Law and Nauja soon found themselves in the village leader’s office, the greying woman in early middle-age staring them both down. Here was this strange, tattooed man explaining that he was a surgeon who wished to set up a practice, with a young girl at his side almost too old to be the daughter he claimed she was if he was not already lying about his own age.
“You are both strangers,” she reiterated, “and have yet been in town for an entire day. How am I to trust you with my people’s medical needs, of all things, under such circumstances? We’ve dealt with only a midwife on the island for well over fifteen years, so why stop now?”
“All I want is to give my daughter a stable life away from bad memories,” Law said. The village leader—Torilsbur Dervla according to the nameplate on the desk—did not seem like someone who could be easily convinced, which made him glad they prepared in advance. “You don’t have a doctor on the island and I can fill that void.”
“You already said you are a surgeon. I am not so ill-informed that I don’t know the difference.”
“My training and real-world experience meant I functioned as a hybrid family practitioner and surgeon—I am more than qualified to run a small hospital, let alone a rural clinic.”
“Of course.” She stared at his hands and frowned. “By what organization?”
“I began my formal training in what was Drum Kingdom, though I finished in Water 7. Plenty of fieldwork supplemented what I couldn’t learn in the classroom.”
“Couldn’t handle the strain?”
“No… the king had a poor idea of what public health should be and banished nearly all the medical practitioners—doctors, surgeons, nurses, researchers, you name it. The prestige might have returned when it became Sakura Kingdom, but my wife and I always wanted to help real people, not be locked away in a research tower.”
“…and she is…?”
“Moetje died,” Nauja said frankly. “That’s why we can’t stay in Water 7 anymore. Vaor called this a ‘fresh start’.”
“Then there is the question of you, Lawsdottir Nauja,” Dervla mused. “I know you must look like your mother, but I still have to note how the resemblance between you and your father is minimal.”
“Ma’am…? Why did you call me that…?”
“Lawsdottir? We don’t use family names here since not everyone is born with one, so that is how we trace our lineage, using son and dottir and bur. You are his daughter, thus Lawsdottir.”
“So I am Lawsdottir, and Vaor is Corasson?”
“If one of your grandparents was named Cora, then yes.”
Law watched Nauja consider this before nodding. “I… I don’t know if I could do it now, but could I go by Antjesdottir? Maybe later?”
“That would be up to you and your father,” Dervla said. Law saw her expression soften slightly before she turned back to him. “You really want to stay here?”
“With your permission—we won’t stay where we’re not wanted.”
“It’s true that a good doctor’s a long way off from here, and a good surgeon even further. I can show you where you can set up your practice, but understand that we do not accept strangers into our folds easily. You could live here until she is grown and you would still be the Lvneelish surgeon and his daughter, here for seas-knows-why.”
“You try leaving home as I did and attempt going back, with a child at that. No… I’d like for this to be our home. We would do well here.”
“I’m warning you now: although we are not poor, what we do have is of little interest to most. Aside from fishermen, there’s mostly sheep and potato and goat farmers around these parts, and while some of us won’t pay in beri, others won’t pay at all.”
“A doctor finds a way,” Law stated. Dervla nodded at him, now fully convinced.
“Come with me then, Doctor Corasson Law, Miss Lawsdottir Nauja, and I can bring you to where the last doctor used to live. If we’re lucky, you might still be able to make use of some of her things.”
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
With the night sky above them shining brightly, the little dinghy’s occupants sat quietly as the currents and wind gently guided the craft further into the South Blue. Nauja held Professor Nanuk in her arms as she stared up at the sky, taken in by the swirls and glittering specks above them.
“It’s so pretty,” she marveled. “Why don’t we ever see the sky like this when the Polar Tang is above water? There’s so many…”
“Whenever we use lights at night, it disrupts our ability to see the stars,” Law explained. He looked at her as she stared wide-eyed at the sky. “You like it?”
“I love it, Law-san!” she gasped. “I wonder if anyone else in the crew has seen the sky like this! I’ll have to ask when we get back!” When she turned her attention towards him, however, she tilted her head in confusion. “Why are you sad?”
“Nauja… we’re not going back to the Tang.” He saw her hug her toy a bit tighter in the starlight. “We’re going to find a place to stay, and then live there.”
“Wait… you mean… forever…?”
“For as long as we need to; if that’s forever, then it’s forever. Most likely we’ll need to move after a few years, but I won’t try to make it often.”
“Why…?”
“…because it’s too dangerous to keep constantly traveling, especially in a big group. The whole crew wants you to grow up in a good place, and I realized recently that place is probably not a pirate ship in the New World.” She stared at him, silent, and he tried not to panic. “Listen, I know I’m…” Fuck, this was awkward. “I know I’m not your real dad, but while we’re doing this, we should probably at least pretend like I am so no nosy aunties try anything.”
“Law-san… you are my real dad,” Nauja replied. There was an uncomfortable silence between them, the only sounds being the waves against the sides of the ship. “My first dad… he wasn’t like you. He wasn’t mean, but…” She avoided eye contact, instead seeming very interested in what was going on behind Professor Nanuk’s ear. “What did you call your dad? In Flevench?”
“Vaor, Vader, Papa…”
“My dad wasn’t mean, but he also didn’t really like me,” Nauja said, her head bobbing in a nod. “My vaor loves me, because he teaches me, and tells me I’m good and smart, and does things to protect me that my dad would have never done. You gave up the crew for me… and I don’t know why, other than that you’re my vaor… and he would have never done that.”
“Come here,” he requested, holding open his arms. The little girl stepped forward and allowed herself to be enveloped in his grasp, both glad that the hug was so warm against the cool night air. “You know, Cora-jiisan… I didn’t understand why he cared about me either. I thought that maybe it was pity for my situation, or out of fear of my name, but I look at you and I know… I know why he lov… why he cared for me so unconditionally, why he died to keep me alive and free.”
“…why…?”
“…because I think… that when he looked at me… he saw hope.” He leaned his head back until it tapped against the mast and he was looking up at the foreign night sky, so different than the stars he and Cora-san navigated by. “He saw hope that the bad man who eventually killed him wouldn’t win… that there could still be good that came from all the terrible things we had seen and done. Cora-jiisan needed me just as much as I needed him.”
“Does that mean that you need me as much as I need you?”
“In our way, yes,” he assured. He looked down at her and saw that she was happy and content. A frown then formed on her face, which he echoed. “What is it?”
“Who was the bad man who killed Cora-jiisan?”
“His name is Donquixote Doflamingo, and he was supposed to be his brother.” They weren’t pirates anymore, yet it was still important she knew what not to trust. “He is a very mean, cruel man who is sick in the head and will do anything to get revenge for Cora-jiisan and me running away if he finds us… if he finds out that you exist. Even if we stuck to being on the Tang, you’d be in danger should he find you and realize that you’re my famke… that I’m your vaor…”
“Oh!” she gasped. “I know this is a different subject, but does this mean I’m a Trafalgar now?”
“I guess it does.” He smiled wanly at that, seeing that his daughter was smiling at him in the starlight. It made the night sky seem that much brighter. “Get to sleep, famke. We should be able to reach the next port tomorrow morning. We’ll talk more then, alright?”
“Yes!” She settled into his lap with Professor Nanuk firmly in her grasp, keeping both close as she closed her eyes and let sleep take her.
Vaor and famke.
They were father and daughter.
Neither of them couldn’t ask for anything better.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
It was a modest house on the edge of the village, with living upstairs and in the back; the front sitting room was a waiting area and other rooms set up as an office, a consultation room, a small infirmary, and combination larger-infirmary-and-operating theater. It was a bit bigger than most of the other houses, though with the amount of space in it dedicated to doctoring and medicine, it was almost like some apartments had been stuck onto a proper clinic. Nauja was nearly vibrating with excitement as they were being shown about, while Law was looking around at everything with concern.
“This is wonderful,” he acknowledged, “but I feel like there’s a catch.”
“No catch,” Dervla said. “Just do what you said you came here to do and it’s yours.”
“I have money,” he replied icily. “This just seems like a lot to just give away.”
“Vaor, some of these expired before I was born!” Nauja gasped, pointing at a glass-doored medicine cabinet.
“Don’t touch anything until I’ve had the chance to inspect it,” Law warned. He then turned back to the village leader. “Well, am I right?”
“Like I said: just do the job you say you’re here to do and there won’t be any problem,” Dervla repeated. She pat Law on the back of his shoulder and gave him a nod. “You know where to find someone if you have a question.”
“I do, but…”
“I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it.” She then left the newcomers alone in the smaller infirmary, with Law able to hear her shut the front door on her way out.
“I don’t know…” he mused. He picked up a medical journal from a bookshelf and cracked it open—it was nearly twenty years old and filled with hand-written notations and commentary in the varying articles’ margins. “Something about this doesn’t feel right.”
“Vaor, we have a house, a place for medicine, there’s a school in town… it’s actually really neat here.”
“It’s still really suspicious when someone goes from not wanting you around at all to giving you a house specialized for your profession within an hour,” he replied. He kept flipping through the articles, a sense of familiarity washing over him. “You know… Oma used to do this.”
“Do what?” Nauja asked. She placed Professor Nanuk on the counter and bounced over towards Law, who sat on his haunches to show her the journal.
“Write in the margins like this,” he said, dragging his fingers over the ink scribbles. They were not far removed from the copperplate handwriting of his parents’ generation, the most prominent difference being the shakiness of the hand despite still being legible. “Opa did too, but not nearly as much as Oma did—it kind of annoyed him.”
“That’s silly,” she giggled. She then watched as he turned a page and almost instantly grew pale. “Vaor…? What’s wrong…?”
One look at the journal and she knew what it was: the next article was coauthored by her grandparents. Law sat directly on the dusty floor and tried his best to not cry.
“I… I remember when this was published,” he said shakily. “La—your Tante Lami was a toddler, and I had to watch her at night while they wrote.”
“I thought you said everything from… erm… home is gone,” Nauja said quietly. Law let out a laugh in disbelief, tears flowing freely down his face.
“The old doctor died before Flevance did; even if she had anything from there, unless someone bothered to come in here and take it…” He couldn’t continue, instead palming his eyes as he broke into a heaving sob. Nauja tackled him in a hug and he held her close, not wanting to let go.
There was still proof that Flevance had once lived, that his parents had lived, and that there was a legacy to pass down as he lived…
…wait a minute.
Shakily, Law disengaged Nauja and handed her the journal so that he could stand up. Tears still in his eyes, he looked at the other volumes on the shelf, running a pointer finger over their spines. Sure enough, there was plenty of medical journals and textbooks from Flevance. The collection was from a broad pool of sources—all the Cardinal Blues and the Grand Line were represented—if there had been someone on the island that was affiliated with the World Government, the entire shelf would have already been burned. He wiped his nose on his sleeve and ducked out of the room, heading into the office. His suspicions were confirmed and his jaw dropped laxly: whole bookshelves of medical publications going back decades… and many of them from the White City itself.
“Vaor…?” He glanced over and saw Nauja standing awkwardly in the doorway. “What is it?”
“I… erm…” He rubbed the back of his neck and waited until she stepped into the office properly. “It’s old, but there’s medical knowledge here that the Marines would kill this whole island over.”
“Really…?” She scrunched her nose and peered at the closest shelf. “This isn’t even from Flevance.”
“A lot of it is, or I’m sure is influenced by Flevance,” he replied, “and this one…? This is from an island that also doesn’t exist anymore. Rumor says it was destroyed for its thirst for history and knowledge.”
“Yeah…?”
“Yeah.” He licked his lips as he selected another book and flipped through it. “It makes sense if the previous doctor was well-learned that she would have had this sort of personal library, but it also tells me something else.”
“What’s that?”
“No one here is going to turn us in, even if they compare me to my bounty poster. We can stay here… for as long as it takes.”
“Really…?”
“Yeah.” He put the book down and knelt down on one knee to be at eye level with her, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. “This is our home now.”
“…but… how will I get strong and good at stuff if we stay put? What if I can’t?”
“Don’t you worry about that.” He brought his hands up to her face, holding her as though she might break. “You’re going to grow up to be an amazing person, Trafalgar D. Water Nauja… I’m going to make sure of it.”
She hugged him and, before they knew it, they were both crying.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
One of the things that was extremely evident when it came to living with Amber Lead Syndrome was that there were good days and bad days. What observers often referred to as bad days were usually the good ones, and when presented with a bad day, it was understandably cause for alarm.
It was a bad day as Law and Cora-san were huddled on some rock, glad for the break in weather that allowed them to camp on the seas-forsaken outcropping instead of attempting to find an island with an inn they hadn’t been run out of yet. The teen could barely move, causing his adult’s panic to skyrocket. He had fussed over the boy and made sure he ate before turning towards his alcohol supply, soaking his depressive thoughts though the afternoon sun had yet to dip low into the sky.
“One day, after we’ve figured this shit out, we’re going to get out of this Blue,” he said, fully drunk at that point. Law was barely able to turn his head and see Cora-san sitting next to him, staring off into the distance as he drank directly from the wine bottle. “There has to be a quiet place we can go.”
“The East and West are both hot,” the boy replied, his voice feeling like sandpaper against his throat.
“They’re quieter than here.”
“What about the South Blue? Do they have weather like the North?”
“Yeah, in some places, but,” he took another drink, “they have to contend with giant and fierce animals more than we do. The only places I can think of that doesn’t are too out of the way.”
“Cora-san… I’m not going to make it that long…”
“You can’t say that, Law!” he sniffled. “We’re going to get you a cure and then I’ll find us someplace nice to live! You can study medicine and open up a clinic and I’ll be there to help you!” He emptied the bottle and laid down—there was no mistaking that he was drunk. “My papa did not live to be very old. I think I’d like to get older than he did one day, raising a family peacefully amongst other people.”
“Then go and get married and acquire babies,” Law huffed. He tried to hide the fact he head tears in his eyes—it was something he knew he’d never see. Cora-san as a dad? Ridiculous.
“I have my family,” Cora-san replied. He placed a shaky hand on Law’s face and turned it towards him. They were both on the verge of crying, held together by barely a thread. “You are my family now, Law. Do you think I tell all those hospitals that you’re my son to be an asshole about it?”
“…no…?”
“Then it doesn’t matter if you end up being the eldest or the only.” He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Law’s. “It doesn’t matter what anyone fucking says: you’re my son now and I love you.”
“…but…!”
“I don’t know how many you lost, and I can’t replace them, but I can still love you, because everyone needs that, don’t they?”
“…but… what did I do…?” He watched Cora-san’s eyes flutter shut and he frowned. “Cora-san…? What did I do that makes you love me? I’m just some shitty kid who tried to kill you.”
A snore was his only reply. Fuck… and with him unable to move too.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
As Law feared: there was a steep learning curve to dropping himself and his daughter into the middle of a rural community. Curious passers-by kept popping their heads in and seeing who it was that was occupying the old doctor’s house. Children used to being able to barge into the front room without reprimand were shocked to discover that there were suddenly people living there. Local customs and traditions were plentiful as the young father tried to figure out what was going on around them. The Port and Village of Hinba was the only major population center on the Island and Country of Diura, which was otherwise dotted with varying farms and pastures as advertised, and yet there seemed to be no end to the amount of people that were coming in and out to meet them.
“You sure are an interesting pair,” chuckled the elderly neighbor lady—Svana—as she helped Law clean the infirmary. It was a quiet day, after Dervla had threatened everyone else to leave him alone or get kicked off the island. Nauja was outside with some of the other children who lived nearby, making it just the two adults in the house.
“Now why would you say that, Svana-ya?” he posed. Law was placing fresh bottles of antiseptic in one cupboard while she was washing the inside of another.
“Last time we got a new doctor we had to send to Roshawan for one,” she noted. “People don’t normally come here thinking that they might be able to stay and make a living… especially not if they arrive with a young one in-tow.”
“Consider us unique,” he said. He knew full-well that she was likely considered the island’s best font of information on them aside from Nauja, except no one was truly aware of how much they had planned beforehand. “What was the doctor like who was here before?”
“Dr. Ghar-Spartel was a hardy woman, who traveled the seas before settling here,” Svana nodded, her expression turning far-off as she reminisced. “We all mourned her when she passed—I think it’s part of why we never found another in all this time.”
“I was told you don’t take easily to strangers, yet you mourned someone you sent for?”
“We did; it turned out she was in town when our call was received and her heart fit here so well that no one could imagine anything different. With any luck, you two will acclimate as easily as she did.” She left the cupboard open and went to wring out the cloth and wet it again with the cleaning solution. “I get the feeling she would have liked the both of you—had a soft spot for Northern blokes who’d wander in town.”
“Was she Northern…?”
“Never publicly claimed a lick, but she was acquainted with quite a few. Came with the territory considering how far she sailed; she spent many an evening telling me tales of Lvneel and other places.”
“Maybe you can tell us some of those stories one day,” he said. “Leaving home young has… disadvantages. I don’t have a lot of stories to pass on to my daughter about my home sea. Not about Lvneel, or Kuenta, or Whiteland, or Flevance, or Notice…”
“I’ve got plenty, especially of Lvneel and Flevance,” she replied. “They were cultural hubs, and I’m sure you’ve heard how Flevance was known for their medical knowledge before the Plague, so she spent plenty of time there.”
Law finished stocking the cupboard and closed it. “Weird how that works: a place that was the best-equipped to handle a situation being wiped out by it instead.”
“It sounds suspicious to me, but that’s age and how life is here for you,” she sighed. She saw the confused, embarrassed look on Law’s face and she chuckled. “We don’t care about what the Government says in these parts. We’re not affiliated with them—never have been—so there’s no love lost if you know my meaning.”
“I know perfectly well your meaning, Svana-ya,” Law nodded. His face was still warm—it looked like embarrassment, but deep down, he was just happy he could continue to get something from his hometown… and something as intangible as stories? He was beyond elated. Now the only problem was making sure his neighbor didn’t catch on about how much he already knew… how much she was able to piece together…
Just then, the kitchen door at the back of the house slammed open and the sound of more than one child came barreling in. Nauja came sliding into the infirmary in her stocking feet, with a small gaggle of children close behind.
“See?!” she said, pointing at Law. “That’s my vaor! He’s a doctor, isn’t he, Svana-ya?!”
“He’s no midwife, but he’ll do,” the older woman chuckled. The village children all stared at Law and the ink visible thanks to his tank top shirt. “It’s impolite to stare—you act like you’ve never seen sailors’ marks before.”
“Are you a pirate?!” one of the children gasped. Nauja froze, yet Law knew exactly what to do. He crouched down with a wicked grin and wiggled his fingers, coming at the children until they screamed and ran away.
“I’m the worst pirate of them all! The Surgeon of Death!” The children that were not his all scurried out, with his daughter staring at him in confusion. “What…? It’s not like I’m not already mistaken for him.”
“Vaor… don’t do that again. You looked weird.”
“Oh, now you’re too cool?”
“Vaor…” Nauja rolled her eyes and went to find the other children, leaving Law with an expression of deadpan irritation on his face. Svana laughed merrily at that.
“What betrayal!” she cackled. “…and to think people wonder why I never had children!”
“I don’t know; maybe because you’re the island’s midwife?”
“Delivering children is not the same as having and raising them, young man,” she retorted. She forced her giggles under control as the man young enough to be her grandson attempted to get back to cleaning. “She is a good child; you should be proud.”
“I am.”
“…and I’m sure her mother is proud of you both.” He paused loading the cupboard for a moment, clearly lost in thought, before putting the vial back down on the counter. “How long has it been just the two of you?”
“…not… erm… long,” he admitted. He kept staring at the countertop, hoping she’d drop the topic, yet her hand gently touched his back in an effort to console him. “Can we please not talk about this, Svana-ya?”
“Bottling it up won’t be good, lad,” she cautioned. “You still have a lot of life left to be weighed down by something so heavy as those bits of metal on your neck.”
“I’ve carried more for longer,” he said, knowing the risk of saying so. The thin chain that held his parents’ wedding bands—scavenged from the ruins of the hospital when he was a reckless teen—suddenly felt very conspicuous, even though their presence was supposed to be part of the lie. “This is for my daughter—I don’t care what it does to me as long as she can grow up strong and free from everything.”
“She won’t if she loses both her parents this young.” The old woman rubbed his back and, for a moment, Law felt his stomach churn. He wasn’t used to genuine concern out of strangers and it made him feel guilty… guilty for everything. Flevance, Lami, Cora-san, the crew… everyone. Shit… did his classmate even like him back then? Had she tolerated him at the very least? He couldn’t remember…
“Being there for Nauja was part of why we moved from the Grand Line,” he stated. “I couldn’t stay there and raise her at the same time… it wasn’t right. It’s… cowardly to come here, but that doesn’t mean it’s not the right thing to do.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Corasson Law: it’s the bravest thing you could have done for her.”
Seas… he really hoped she was right.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
The sense of déjà vu that Law was experiencing did not settle well with him, as it made him think of a time when he was the child, diminutive due to stunted growth and comparative height to his adult. He held Nauja close as he opened a large Room, the two of them surrounded by citizens of the small town they were in. Well, on the outskirts of, but that was besides the point.
“You don’t scare us,” a shop owner said. He had been a Marine for twenty years before retiring, the seagull tattoo still prominent on his upper arm. “A member of the Worst Generation would fetch a large price… especially one who tries to go into hiding while his cohorts make trouble elsewhere. What are you after, Rogue Shichibukai?!”
“I’m not here for trouble if that’s what you’re concerned about,” Law announced for about the sixteenth time.
“Then where’d you get the kid?”
“None of your business.”
“I’m making it my business, boy.”
Law sighed and twitched his fingers, the mob of citizens being replaced with their children and pets. The startled kids all looked at him and Nauja without really knowing what to say, let alone knowing what happened.
“You’re the man that Dad wanted us to stay away from,” a little boy realized. Law breathed a sigh of relief and put Nauja down; they had about five minutes before they needed to start running again.
“Perceptive,” he replied. “Do you always listen to your dad?”
“Yes…?”
“I doubt that, but close enough.” He stroked Nauja’s hair as she huddled against his leg, holding onto his trousers as she tried to hide from the other children in the safety of his coat. “What’s the matter? You were fine a little while ago…”
“That was before they tried to take me and run you out of town,” she mumbled.
“But he’s a bad man!” a girl declared.
“Maybe your dad’s the bad one!” Nauja shot back. “Mine just wants to take care of me! Why does that make him bad?!”
“Nauja…” Movement caught Law’s eye and he grimaced—the adults were back sooner than he expected. “Time to go.” He picked her up and waited just long enough for her to flip her middle fingers at the other children before he triggered a series of swaps that landed them in their boat, then switching the entire boat with a whale that was breaching just offshore so it could damage the wharf. He finally let out the breath he had been holding and put his daughter down, only for her to slump onto the deck in irritation.
“They hate us,” she grumbled. “Vaor… why do they hate us…?”
“…because they don’t know any better, and hating people who are different than them has worked for their survival in the past.” He made sure the wind was catching the sail correctly before pulling a map out of his coat pocket. “That’s another one down.”
“This stinks,” she said. “I feel like we’ve been searching forever.”
“Not forever, but definitely a long time,” he admitted. Law crossed off the island they had just been on and took a look at where they could go next. They were running out of options around the entrance to the Grand Line, meaning the further they went into the South Blue, the more dangerous it was likely to become. He sat down as he studied the map, propping his feet up on Nauja’s legs in order to rile her up. It worked and she wriggled out from under him in order to crawl over to his side and nestle in the crook of his arm.
“How long were you and Cora-jiisan running?” she wondered.
“Almost half a year—it’s only been a couple months for us,” he reminded her. He traced the line of a water current and nodded. “I think if we keep low and only stop for supplies, we might be able to get to this island in about two weeks or so.”
“…Diura…?” She peered at the paper and frowned. “Why there?”
“It’s far enough from Reverse Mountain that we’re out of the way of other pirates,” he reasoned. “Fewer pirates mean fewer people who would recognize me even if I don’t use my Devil Fruit. It even looks like it might be out of the way for people around there too.”
“How?”
“The currents are all wrong.” He took her hand and gently traced the current paths on the map with her finger. “This is a major water current that goes through that area of the South Blue, and this is the major wind current. Neither of them go near there, which means that it’s minor sailing traffic only.”
“…so… it would be no problem for the Tang, but it would for a normal ship?”
“Not a problem, just more difficult.” Shit, he wished Bepo and Penguin were there to explain it better, maybe even Hakugan, since he was admittedly less comfortable with specifics. He kissed the side of her head and squeezed her gently. “We’ll find someplace. I promise.”
“Why here?” she asked. “Why not the North Blue?”
“Too many people remember my face or my accent or both,” he admitted. “Besides, the Marines would be looking for me in my Home Blue if I simply vanished off their Grand Line radar.”
“Those villagers sure did know who you were…”
“…and they’re the only ones who caught us so far,” he reminded her. Their amount of close calls had been racking up exponentially—it was a surprise that they hadn’t been chased out of town before this. “One report does not make the military change course… not like that. Besides, it will look like they called the Marines because their harbor was wrecked and they didn’t want to pay for it.”
“…oh.” Nauja took the map and looked at it closer. “There’s a town on Diura. Do you think it’s big?”
“Probably not, but something tells me that they have the room to take in a girl who lost her mother… a man who lost his wife…” He watched as her face scrunched while trying to remember their cover story.
“It was a couple years ago,” she recited. “Moetje was sick, and you were really sad for a long time after she passed away, so my uncles told you that moving might help, since we can go where you don’t have memories of her.”
“Good—and where were we before that?”
“Water 7; you didn’t like needing to prepare for Aqua Laguna every year anyhow.”
“…and how did we get through to the South Blue?”
“A ship that could pass through the Calm Belt gave us passage, but no one has to know that it’s because it’s a submarine pirate ship and not a Marine ship.”
“Exactly.” He frowned and remembered the last time he was running like this, when it was with Cora-san, and how different this time was. “Can you remember something for me?”
The girl perked up. “What is it?”
“Remember that I love you, okay?” He watched as confusion crossed her face. “I never got the chance to tell Cora-jiisan that in all the time I spent with him. I love you…” he took a deep breath, “…and the crew loves you. That’s why we’re doing this. Do you understand?”
“You love me… and the crew loves me,” she echoed. “You loved Cora-jiisan, and he loved you. That’s why we’re running… why he ran with you… why the crew can’t run with us.”
“Yeah… that’s the gist of it.”
The little girl stayed quiet for a moment, mulling everything over as she idly picked at the hem of her sweater. She then nodded; she understood, and she was glad.
“I love you too, Vaor.”
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
That night, after the rest of Hinba was back in their homes for the evening, Law used his Devil Fruit to take apart the wall in the front sitting room, having found a space inside just big enough for Kikoku. While he had entertained the idea of leaving it out as a display, it was safest that he hid it away, at least for the time being.
“You’ll come out soon enough,” he murmured to the sword as he placed it inside the thin nook. He let his hand linger on the scabbard, giving the blade inside a moment to accept its oncoming rest.
“Do we need to put my knife away?” Nauja wondered. Law looked and saw the girl was holding up her weapon; he let go of Kikoku and shook his head.
“I still want you to train,” he said. “A knife is easier to keep out of sight than a long sword. Don’t worry—Kikoku understands.” He then replaced the paneling and plaster as though it had never been moved. “This is it. We’re home now.”
“…yeah…?”
“We still need to be careful, but yeah. I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon.” He let her cling to him in a tight hug—it was time now to get on with the rest of their lives.
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princesssarisa · 2 years
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Fictional Character Ask: Cinderella
For @ariel-seagull-wings
Favorite Thing About Them: It varies from version to version, since her personality is a little different in each retelling, but most common among all is the fact that she never lets her hard life make her bitter or destroy her kindness. Even in versions where she is bitter and not always kind (for example, Leslie Caron's The Glass Slipper), there's still a clear spark of warmth and goodness within her that her stepfamily can't extinguish and which is eventually rewarded.
Least Favorite Thing About Them: This isn’t her fault, of course, but the fact that in most versions she’s beautiful while her stepsisters are ugly or plain, implicitly linking beauty with goodness and worth. This probably explains why so many modern retellings either make the stepsisters beautiful too or give one of them a redemption arc. The latter choice fits with Perrault’s comment that the younger sister was less bad than the older one anyway.
Three Things I Have in Common With Them:
*I love pretty clothes.
*Like Disney’s Cinderella, I love animals.
*Like most versions of her, I always try to be kind.
Three Things I Don’t Have in Common With Them:
*I’ve never been abused or treated like a slave.
*I don’t have small feet.
*I’m not very good at housework (not that Cinderella is naturally good at it, per se, she’s just had plenty of forced practice).
Favorite Line:
This passage from the Disney version:
Oh, that clock! Old killjoy. I hear you. “Come on, get up,” you say, “Time to start another day.” Even he orders me around. Well, there’s one thing. They can’t order me to stop dreaming. And perhaps someday… (sings)
….THE DREAMS THAT I WISH WILL COME TRUE.
This is an excellent quote to cite whenever anyone claims (either as praise or as a criticism) that Cinderella is always passive and “never complains." Here she’s unabashedly complaining and annoyed at being jarred out of her dreams and forced to start another day of hard work and insults from her stepfamily. But at the end, we find the real key to her character: the thing that helps her survive and saves her from becoming hard and bitter. It’s that she never gives up hope.
And from the 1997 version of the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical, when she prays to her father's spirit in the garden after the Stepmother insults her following the ball:
“Father, I know I promised that I’d never leave here, but after tonight, I don’t see how I can stay. If you only knew how she’s changed, you’d understand. I deserve better, Father. I deserve to be loved. And that’s what I found out tonight, and that’s all that really matters.”
BROTP:��Her Fairy Godmother, and in the Disney version the mice and birds.
OTP: The Prince.
NOTP: Her Stepmother, or. in the case of the opera La Cenerentola, her stepfather Don Magnifico.
Random Headcanon: As a princess and later a queen, she’ll always respect her servants, employees and subjects as equals to herself, and be renowned for her fair, generous treatment of them. She’ll also be a particular advocate for orphans and other children in need.
Unpopular Opinion: The Cinderella of the Disney version and other traditional retellings deserves all the defense in the world; to disparage her as a weakling for “letting” her stepfamily abuse her and being “helpless” without her Fairy Godmother is victim-blaming. That said, retellings like Three Wishes for Cinderella, Ella Enchanted, Ever After, Cinder, Mechanica, et al, that feature a feistier, less conventionally sweet and more proactive Cinderella are welcome too. There’s room for both types of Cinderella, just like there’s room for both types of women in the real world.
Song I Associate With Them:
Disney's classic, "A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes."
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"In My Own Little Corner" from Rodgers and Hammerstein's musical. (Actually I'm tempted to list every song from Rodgers and Hammerstein's score.)
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“Non piú mesta accanto al fuoco” (”No longer sad beside the fire”) – her triumphant final aria from La Cenerentola.
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The title song from the 1935 Betty Boop cartoon Poor Cinderella:
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Favorite Pictures of Them:
This illustration by Edmund Dulac:
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This illustration by Arthur Rackham:
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This illustration of the Grimms' Aschenputtel by Elen Abbot:
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Disney's Cinderella:
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Yanina Zhejmo in the 1947 Russian film version:
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Leslie Caron's scrappy gamine Ella from 1955's The Glass Slipper:
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This illustration by Kinuko Craft:
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Brandy Norwood's 1997 Rodgers and Hammerstein Cinderella, with Whitney Houston as the Fairy Godmother:
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Laura Osnes in the Broadway production of Rodgers and Hammerstein's musical, 2013:
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Elina Garanca in the opera La Cenerentola, 2009:
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vera9 · 2 years
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Fic: Sirens
So I heavily, HEAVILY took inspiration from Dreamworks’ Sinbad for this one. If you haven’t seen it, at least watch the siren scene because it’s some of the sickest shit I’ve ever seen in animation.
Anyway: time for Izzy to save the others from certain doom!
AO3 link
At first, there were only a couple of rocks. Manoeuvring around them was an easy task for a seasoned sailor like Nathaniel Buttons. But then the fog set in, and the number of rocks increased. He could no longer veer recklessly to the side, for fear of sending the vessel into a dead end. He was forced to follow the path the rocks had laid out, and when the fog lifted, the crew of the Revenge found themselves in a gorge.
No one said a word. The air was cold as ice. Shipwrecks lined the cliffs as far as the eye could see. The shrieking of seagulls was gone. Even the ship itself seemed to be cutting through the eerily still water without a sound. They’d been separated from the world as they knew it. This place was dead.
“Edward,” Izzy cautioned.
“I know.” 
He and Blackbeard (and Bonnet, but Izzy preferred to ignore his existence) stood on the quarterdeck, eyes fixated on the cliff tops above them. They were in the perfect position for an ambush. Something must’ve littered the water with all these corpses.
But no arrows or other projectiles came. Suddenly, something broke through the silence, and it seemed to originate from below rather than above. Voices, Izzy realised–no, singing.
He clasped his hands against his ears in an instant. He’d never run into sirens before, but there was a first time for everything. His years as a pirate had taught him that much. He checked his surroundings, but saw nothing.
–wait. The water was rippling again. It moved unnaturally, as if it had a will of its own. The ripples rose above the surface and morphed into a human shape. Then another one–and another one. Their faces were blank, but there was no doubt in Izzy’s mind: they were responsible for the singing. Most of them danced around the ship, while others took position on a rock or wreck to play their watery harps.
Izzy’s hands were still on his ears, but it was no use. The angelic melody penetrated his brain. It was only a matter of time before it would consume him and send him–as well as the others–to their graves.
Except… it didn’t? 
The voices were loud and clear, but other than sounding pretty nice, they had no effect on Izzy’s mind. He carefully lowered his hands to find that nothing changed. There was obviously a supernatural force at play here. Was it something other than sirens…?
One look around the ship was enough to provide an answer. While Izzy appeared immune, no one else was that lucky. They were all enchanted by the singing, gazing longingly at the liquid creatures with stupid, lovestruck smiles on their face.
“Edward–” Izzy repeated, but he found–much to his horror–his captain was no different. He was now leaning on the balustrade, jaw in his hand, and staring at the water as if it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Likewise, Bonnet had moved to the side to get a better look. 
“Fuck,” Izzy muttered, and another curse followed when the saw the sirens ascend at the bow. They drifted across the deck, reaching out for their victims, and the crew responded in kind. They walked towards their doom like a bunch of mindless zombies.
The thought crossed Izzy’s mind that it would be so easy to let the sirens take them; see them killed like he originally intended. But even if he and Blackbeard somehow managed to make it out of this deathtrap, it would take a while to reunite with their men. Until that time, they were sitting ducks for any foe that realised no more than two occupied the ship. 
Like it or not, Izzy had to keep these morons alive.
He muttered a string of “fuck”s as he jumped off the stairs and drew his sword. He slashed right through the shapes, sending water all over the floor, but it didn’t stay there for long. The puddles easily rematerialised into something resembling people. Even up close, Izzy couldn’t find any distinguishing features, but he could’ve sworn some of the sirens glared at him for a split second.
Even if he wanted to glare back (and he definitely wanted to), Izzy didn’t get the chance. The ship tilted into a cliff on the port side and the shock was almost enough to throw him overboard. Izzy just barely managed to cling to the railing and pull himself back in. The sea was now wild, unpredictable, and unforgiving.
“Mr Buttons–” he yelled, but the helmsman had abandoned his post. The wheel was spinning uncontrollably to the left. As Izzy rushed back up to take control, he found Buttons at the edge of the deck, somehow naked and ready to realise his wish to make sweet love to the sea. His pet seagull was pecking frantically–but uselessly–at his head.
Not knowing what else to do, Izzy yanked him by the arm and out of the siren’s embrace. He inadvertently sent him into the mizzenmast, knocking him out. Oh well, at least he was safe.
Izzy grabbed the helm and steered right, before the current had another chance to lead them into an obstacle. Unfortunately, the sirens were making a second attempt to lure the crew off the ship. Izzy was starting to panic. Leaving the helm could easily result in a death sentence, and weapons were pointless against these monsters. Shouting wasn’t going to snap the others out of their trance. What was he supposed to–?
His eye fell on the seagull, which was screeching like crazy. It was just a bird, but he seemed to understand the situation perfectly. An idea popped up in Izzy’s head. He must be a fucking lunatic.
“Karl!” he called, and the seagull actually looked at him. Izzy threw him a rope, and he caught it in his beak.
“Fly around them,” Izzy pointed. Karl soared across the main deck and did exactly as instructed. He dropped his end of the rope in Izzy’s hand, and Izzy gave it a hard yank, drawing the members of the crew together. He risked abandoning the helm for just a moment so he could tie them up. Karl hadn’t managed to get all of them, but this was a good start.
Whether he was at the helm or not, few things could’ve prepared Izzy for the incoming cascade. The bow took a dip and he was again sent flying. This time he crashed into Lucius, shattering the siren he was making out with and replacing its lips with his own. They rolled across the floor until they hit the foremast. Much to Izzy’s dismay, Lucius ended on top. He tried to push him off, but the boy was fully immersed in the illusion, tightening his grip the more Izzy resisted.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
Red-headed, Izzy curled his fingers and clocked Lucius in the jaw. That was enough to get him off and–thankfully–knock him unconscious.
Izzy got up and wiped his lips, shooting him a look. “Nasty little twat.”
But Lucius wasn’t the one he should be concerning himself with. Izzy had kept his eye off Blackbeard for too long. Like Buttons, he was already at the railing, ready to throw himself overboard. He smiled lovingly at the siren that had his cheeks cupped as it sang him to his death.
Izzy managed to pull him back just in time, but Ed needed more than that. Unhindered, he simply approached the siren again, even when Izzy stepped in front of him.
“Edward. Edward! It’s me!”
Of course that didn’t help. Ed didn’t even look at him. Something gnawed in Izzy’s chest and he promptly ignored it. He could try to push Ed back, but he knew he’d be overpowered. Once again, Izzy had to resort to violence. This was the first time he felt bad about it.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and he delivered his second punch today. Edward stumbled back for a bit, but that was all the assault amounted to. Izzy punched him again, and again, until he finally hit the boards. Predictably, Ed tried to get back up. As long as he was conscious, he’d respond to that damn singing.
“Stay down,” Izzy snapped, and he gave him a good kick to the head. He felt like shit, but at least that did the trick.
That seemed to be everyone. Izzy hastily returned to the upper deck to take the helm. Much to his relief, the exit to the gorge appeared in sight. Beyond the borders of this cursed place, he could see seagulls flying above a gentle sea.
Speaking of seagulls, Karl was screaming again.
“What is it?” Izzy snarled, and Karl flew to the very end of the stern. Izzy turned just in time to see Stede Bonnet throw himself overboard.
Time stood still in that moment. Izzy stared unmoving at the spot Bonnet had disappeared from. He was moments away from death. This was his chance. He needed the rest of the group to survive, but Bonnet? The sirens were actually doing him a favour by taking him out of the picture. All his problems would be solved in an instant.
… no. He knew he was the only one who saw things that way. Izzy could just claim he’d been too late to save him, but there wasn’t a soul aboard who’d believe that. There was a chance not even Edward would take his side. He’d made his animosity towards Bonnet very clear, and now it was coming back to bite him. If he let him die, he and Edward would really be over.
“... fuck… Fuck, fuck, FUCK!”
Izzy ran towards the stern, grabbing another rope on the way. It was attached to a pulley and had a hook on the other end, which Izzy held ready. He jumped overboard and swung himself in Stede’s direction. The screaming colours of his stupid jacket were impossible to miss. Bonnet was surrounded by sirens and clearly drowning, but he still had a smile on his obnoxious face. Too bad Izzy couldn’t let him die–at least he’d have gone happily.
He jabbed the hook into Bonnet’s jacket and he was ripped out of the water, flying along with him back to safety. Izzy landed on his feet, gave the rope a sharp tug, and tied it to the rail. Bonnet was literally left hanging and incapable of responding to the sirens’ call.
That was everyone. Izzy was ready to guide them back to the real world, but the sirens weren’t done yet. They surrounded him and tried one last time to win him over with their song. Even the ones that had been providing musical accompaniment by the cliffs joined in.
It was no use. Izzy wasn’t going to fall under their spell. It didn’t matter how beautiful their voices were, or how his heart started to flutter, or how his feet were moving on their own. He reached out a hand to the siren in front of him, who had finally taken a clearer shape. Izzy recognised that face. It was–
“--GAH!”
With a roar, Izzy snapped out of the enchantment. He stepped back and covered his face, utterly horrified with himself. Those fucking bitches almost had him. His eyes burned into them from between his fingers as his sword was drawn once more. 
Izzy cut every single siren apart, and when they re-emerged, he simply cut them down again. He struck madly in every which direction until only the smallest of droplets remained. He knew it didn’t help in the long run, but beating the sirens wasn’t his main goal. Destroying his feelings was.
He took control of the helm one last time and evaded a final rock. Then the sun welcomed him back into normal waters, and the sirens that had been reforming splashed across the deck. It was fucking flooded at this point, but at least those freaks were as dead as they were going to get.
To Izzy’s surprise, Karl flew to him and perched on his head, like he always did with Buttons. While he cleaned his feathers, Izzy realised just how wonderful the sudden quiet was. All they heard was the lapping of the waves and the occasional squawk, and nothing sounded lovelier in this moment.
It wasn’t long, of course, before he also detected murmurs on the main deck. The crew released themselves from the rope in utter confusion. Buttons and Lucius were knocked out. Blackbeard was just getting up. Bonnet was dangling from a pulley and begging to be let down.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know.”
“Last thing I remember is…”
“D’you think we heard sirens?”
“Sirens! That’s right!”
“We should probably get Captain down.”
While Roach lowered Bonnet to the floor, Izzy heard a groan behind him. Buttons was awake. He joined him next to the helm, observing the mess below. That was when Karl hopped over to him and uttered some noises only he could understand.
Buttons let out a laugh. “Is that so? Well, now I’ve heard everythin’!” He patted Izzy on the back and raised his voice: “Avast ye! ‘Tis true, we were set upon by wicked sirens! And the one who freed us from their curse is none other than Mr Hands!”
All eyes were suddenly on him. Izzy wanted to sink through the floor. He couldn’t exactly blame them for the scepticism on their faces. The idea of him saving them? Yeah, he couldn’t believe it either.
“Is that true, Iz?” Edward asked. His hand was on his head. Oops.
“... yes,” Izzy muttered, and he gave the wheel back to Buttons, who apparently didn’t deem it necessary to put his clothes back on.
All that followed was more silence. Izzy was no longer looking at the others, but he doubted his own admittance would change a thing. As he thought: it was him against them. Oh well, fuck it. He didn’t care if they bel–
They erupted into cheers, causing him to flinch. Before Izzy knew it, they stormed up the stairs and started tossing him in the air, bellowing a chant of their own.
“I-ZZY! I-ZZY! I-ZZY!”
Izzy was absolutely dumbstruck. Leave it to these dumbasses to react in the weirdest fucking way possible. He looked in Blackbeard’s direction, but he just smiled and shrugged. Bonnet joined him and Ed threw an arm around his shoulders. Like him, he wore a smile. That must be the nicest he’d ever been to Izzy.
The crew eventually let him down (because he told them to), but they didn’t leave him alone just yet. They thanked him and smacked his shoulder and shook his hand and asked about the details. Izzy’s face was once again bright red, and all he could do was aim it downward. He had no idea what to do with this absurd amount of positive attention.
“All right, all right, you lot,” Edward clapped. “Give ‘im some space. Let’s get this place cleaned up and see if he wants to share the story afterwards, all right?”
Some of them groaned, but complied. Thank god he had his personal space back. 
After everybody left, Edward approached him and gave a shoulder tap of his own. “Well done, Iz. You have to tell us what happened, yeah?”
In his particular case, Izzy’d rather not. Stroke of luck that the beard would cover most of the future bruises.
“... sure,” was all he managed, and Blackbeard returned to Bonnet for a chat. Unsurprisingly, the Gentleman Pirate was wondering how the hell he’d ended up halfway above the ship.
Izzy’s eyes shifted to the rest of the crew. They were cleaning up as per Blackbeard’s command, but still very much in a festive mood. He even thought he heard someone mention throwing a party–in his honour, of all people.
Izzy felt another little bounce in his chest, but there was no supernatural influence this time. This was the first time he actually felt welcomed into a group. No longer did Stede Bonnet’s bunch look at him and scoff or grin or whisper what was undoubtedly something insulting to a fellow mate. Whenever their eyes fell on him, they were nothing but smiles. Izzy couldn’t remember the last time that happened, if it happened at all.
It was… weird. Izzy had always considered these people beneath him: inept and weak and stupid. He thought he didn’t need their praise. He thought it wouldn’t make a difference if they died. But they were alive, and they were celebrating him, and Izzy felt… pleased. 
Maybe this abnormal environment where people treated each other with kindness wasn’t so worthless after all.
Maybe, eventually… he could get used to it.
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crescentblossom66 · 2 years
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A hat in time writing prompts: Prompt 7 Coffee
The Mafia Goon shifted from one leg to the other nervously, his boss was in a real foul mood today. Why? He didn't know, why was it exactly today that he had to be guarding the boss. Moving barrels, beating up the other non-mafia residence and making food were all so much easier and way less agonizing tasks.
He took a peek over his shoulder and found that his boss was leaning forward on his throne, with his arms on his legs and his hands folded in front of his face. The blue-clothed man had no idea what he might be thinking about, maybe he was thinking about building a gym or something, it would maybe help his son get strong enough to beat up those nasty seagulls that kept stealing their fish...who was he kidding, he'd never be strong enough.
Whatever he was thinking about must have been something profound and utterly serious, like finding out which number came after three, given his furrowed brow.
Suddenly he heard the distinguished voice of his superior echo through strangely empty room and the long hallway behind it. “An espresso is truly the strongest and most refined way to enjoy coffee! You there-” The Goon to his right jumped up startled. “-Go to the kitchen and brew me an espresso!”
All this nerve-wreaking tension because he couldn't decide how he wanted his coffee? “Mafia not the best at making coffee, but Mafia will try.” He saluted and made his way toward the kitchen.
“He wants a coffee, huh. I'll make sure that he'll get a coffee that he'll remember.” The red-hooded girl's golden eyes sparkled at her wicked idea, as she slowly crawled back out of the vents and made her way to the kitchen where she waited for the Goon to prepare the cup.
The Mafia went into the kitchen put some water into the coffee machine and opened the coffee filter, as he turned around to search for the coffee powder, Mustache Girl grabbed the water container of the machine and replaced the water with vinegar while quietly snickering to herself.
After finding the powder, he put the coffee powder in the filter and turned the machine on, as he did so, he wondered where the odd smell came from. In the meantime the red-clothed girl sneaked back through the vent to observe the spectacle that would ensue.
“Mafia got your espresso, boss, hope it taste like boss wanted.” He got his answer in form of the hot liquid that was spat in his face after the leader of the Mafia took one sip of the coffee he had poured his heart and soul into making.
“What was that? Dish soap tastes better than whatever this is!-” The Goon looked down in shame while his boss rose a hand and gestured to the hallway. “-Get out of my sight, and clean the fish barrels!” His poor subordinate nodded and waddled away with a sad expression while the others in the room could feel the pain of their brethren. Cleaning the barrels was awful! It was so hard to reach the bottom, and sometimes they would even get stuck and had to hope that after Mafia found and punched the barrel to break the victim free.
The short man shook his head with a sigh and pointed at the guard to his left. “You try! And don't you dare disappoint me, or it's HQ cleaning duty for you!” Oh no, that was even worse! It was one of THE hardest tasks to do right! Slipping on the wet floor and falling, due to it being so hard to remember where they had already cleaned, was something they all dreaded.
Mustache Girl only laughed at the stupid face the Mafia Boss made after drinking the concoction she created with the help of the Mafia, and now she had another chance to ruin his day. This was just getting better and better!
Same procedure as before, the Goon prepared the coffee and this time she got the genius idea that replacing the powder with salt would most certainly create the flavor he deserved.
With anxiety in his voice, the Mafia Goon presented the coffee he created, praying that his boss would like his coffee.
Again he took one sip and his face scrunched up like he had just bit on a lemon, due to the hideous flavor that the acidity and bitterness of the brown liquid mixed with a secret ingredient in form of salt, created.
He got up and simultaneously tossed the cup to the ground staining the carpet and scattering glass shards everywhere. He then proceeded to throw a hissy fit over the whole affair, yelling and gesturing around wildly while the others just stood around with shaking knees.
The red hood-wearing girl would have burst out laughing if that wouldn't have resulted in her cover being blown. She instead covered her mouth with her hand while occasionally wiping away tears from laughing too hard. Yep, this was the best day in a long while, nothing was more entertaining than watching Mafia suffer.
The Goon was less entertained however, he had to clean the floors of the building for a whole month, he could still feel the pain in his back from falling on the wet floor 342 times for weeks after.
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flygefisk · 2 years
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whats the lore with ipswich being turned into a common dragon? :0 they seem super interesting
ooh they would hate being called 'common dragon' lol,, lore under the cut! and a reminder that my lore varies pretty heavily from canon, especially in its magic systems and views on non-dragon species
tl;dr ill-advised and unethical pokemon catching gets guy no one liked killed and now the pokemon's pissed, more at 11
so up until ~150yrs back, it was a pretty common practice among magic users to 'bind' creatures that were 1. more magic-based in their biology and 2. seen as "less sapient" than dragons. binding is basically tying that creature's essence to a container, to be let out to serve their captor. usually as bodyguards or servants, sometimes just especially flashy pets.
most of these creatures were things like imps and spirits, which have a similar intelligence level as say, a very vindictive house cat. the stronger/more skilled mages, though, would go after ""greater"" creatures, elementals and demons and monsters, some of which far surpassed their captors in strength and intellect but could still be caught in a binding spell.
(more meat-based critters like beastclans don't have enough magic in their systems to fall victim to these binding spells, and the fair folk are immune. trying to catch a fairy creature is a Bad Idea do not attempt.)
trade of these bottled beasties wasn't too common, actually- smaller critters could be traded without much issue, but clever ones could often make a break for it when the protection clause switched owners, and kill/maim all parties involved. plus, the kind of mages who really enjoyed this practice were both vindictive and paranoid, and feared sellers wouldn't transfer said protection clause. to be fair this did happen. often.
not too long before this practice fell out of use, it became trendy to make your bottled critters fight those of your rivals, and mages began to seek out rarer and more powerful creatures to ensure their victory and/or safety. like a very high-stakes and unethical pokemon battle.
the mage who bound ipswich was one of the most skilled and widely known beastkeepers at the time. he was also known to be a smug and overly confident prick who relied entirely on his "pets" to keep him safe- magically brilliant, but physically weak. ipswich never bothered to learn his name so i didn't give him one.
ipswich was to be his greatest prize- a terrifying eldritch creature brimming with arcane power, the greatest jewel in his crown. and he did manage to bind them! ...but he'd made a tiny mistake in that protection clause, the bit that prevents a creature from murdering whoever just bound them.
it kicked in just a moment too late, just after ipswich was wrapped up in the main spell, but before they were contained. that moment was more than enough for ipswich to swallow him whole. moron.
the practice of beast-binding didn't last long past this. not necessarily a direct result, but that this master mage died working on it definitely helped. too many mages had been immolated/shredded/melted/etc, and folks had kinda known that it wasn't ethical. in most places it's banned, in a few it's still technically legal but it's difficult to get your hands on the components, and it's a major career killer.
most bound creatures have been freed (in one way or another) in the past century, but ipswich's bottle only washed up very recently. that particular mage was especially paranoid, and his binding spells were written completely differently from anyone else's, and of course he never told anyone about it. so until wick can figure out how to break it without breaking ipswich too, they're stuck with him.
ipswich (understandably) holds a deep-seated resentment towards dragonkind in general. they hate all of this. but, land-folk food is good, if a bit overcooked. they like throwing fries for the seagulls (usually at people, so they get swarmed), and sea-storms from above the water are mesmerizing. and, wick is... interesting.
addendum: read the bartimaeus trilogy for more bastard mage vs dickhead captive spirit fun (it is a big insp for how i use magic in my various settings and also a very good time)
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crow-with-a-knife · 29 days
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kk several things
Merliah Summers, an -at first glance- normal 19 year old girl from Malibu. She was far from normal, thought, in fact, she wasn't really human. Merliah was a siren. She thrived off those, especially men. She could trick. She had tan skin, [almost unnaturally] blonde hair with pink streaks, usually pulled into a ponytail. She had a hooked nose between bug-like, slightly off-putting, light emerald green eyes just above her freckle dotted cheeks. Her teeth were sharper than average but overlookable if you weren't examining her extensively. She had a thin yet athletic build, her legs especially muscular. It was obvious she at least was somewhat active.
It was a chilly summer night, the waves crashed against the beach, the seafoam making a wretched yet calming hiss as it hit the gravelly sand. The dark sky was barely illuminated by light of the moon, leaving a dark blue hue across anyones vision. The sounds of birds, specifically seagulls, screaming filled the moist and salty air. Yet there was another sound, a churning, slurping sound, the unmistakable sound of raw meat. The sound you'd hear if a scavenger, like a lone coyote or buzzard, was ripping into a corpse. The source? A figure, with a humanoid shape, and a long fish tail.. a mermaid?
Much more of a siren if anything, it seemed to be eating something; A man. It had long, blonde and pink drenched hair that went with its pink tail. The hair was drenched in blood and water, and her mouth and chin dripped as her nails sliced through his skin like a freshly sharpened cleaver through a chickens neck. Her hands grasped the intestines in her palms, her hands facing up as she pulled a length to her mouth. Her sharp teeth sunk deep into the offal. She thrashed her head , a wet , stretching then ripping sound followed by a slap before the noise of chewing. She swallowed with a smile, bending over and burying her face into the guts of the man. She made it a sort of game - like apple bobbing. Her claw-like nails dug into the corpse as she bit and pulled and sucked on the organs. She took bites from the heart and treated the lungs like a bowl. She lapped up the blood that had accumulated within her victims airways.
70 to 80 yards away stood another person. Deathly white skin, as if it was rotting, and long dark dreadlocks. Their face brandished a large, staggered ,half scarred over faux smile
A fic^
art!!
for a pokemon animatic, Yvetal, xerneas, AZs floette
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an just oc art
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Excellent!!! Thank you for sharing with me I love seeing y’all’s creations! Also is this a barbie fic???
Also I like your artwork. You’re very good at creating expressive characters and fun designs (something I personally struggle with in my art)
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