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randowolfwriter · 3 years

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Rocking that Solo (Intro)- Hot Dog Dilemma

Just a little one-shot from my self indulgent Older Warners au. Might consider doing more of these if it gets enough interest.

Summary:

A hot dog vendor meets the strangest girl (or puppy) he’s ever seen. Little does he know, she has a few tricks up her sleeve.

She was a weird child. Probably one of the strangest the hot dog vendor had ever seen.

At first, he figured she had really poofy hair tied back with a sparkly heart-shaped hair tie, but then she approached him and saw that it wasn’t hair, but a pair of really large ears. Rabbit ears maybe? Then he noticed that she appeared to be covered in fur, ink-black with the exception of white that covered her entire face with a red nose that looked awfully a lot like a cat’s. When she smiled, he noticed tiny little fangs that made up her canines, and when she stepped back for a bit, he noticed that she wasn’t wearing any shoes—she didn’t need any. Giant white paws were what she walked on all day, much bigger than her front paws that looked more like hands. Then the key indicator of her strange appearance was that she had a tail, a long black one that was hard to determine whether it better belonged on a cat or a monkey. She could have been an animal that just escaped from the zoo had she not been wearing a giant purple sweater with a jean skirt and asking him tons of questions like any girl her age would ask.

Yes, this indeed was the strangest little girl the vendor had ever seen, and yet, this wasn’t the first time she had visited him that day.

“You seem like a pretty cool guy,” She beamed through what appeared to be a Liverpool accent. “I’d love to have your job.”

“What are you doing back here?” The vendor barked. “Didn’t I tell you to get lost?”

“But I know where I am, so how can I get lost?” The girl inferred.

“I told you, I’m not bringing down the price of a dog.”

“But ten dollars is a little much, don’t you think? If I ran a hot dog cart, I would give everyone in the world a hot dog, and then I’d have the rest for myself.”

“Listen, little girl?” The vendor leaned over, trying to size himself up in order to intimidate her. “Are you gonna buy a dog or what? I haven’t got all day.”

Not once did she flinch from the vendor’s harsh demeanor, instead she kept smiling with a glimmer in those dark beady eyes of hers. “Well, I probably won’t since they’re so pricey. I just thought you should know that one of your cart’s wheels is missing.”

“What?”

The vendor tried to examine the wheel from where he leaned, but unfortunately, he couldn't. It was one of the front ones, which led him to move his lazy self to examine it. Clear as afternoon it was missing, despite it was there this morning when he wheeled the cart through the park. He only had a few customers that day, and none had bothered to mess with those wheels. In conclusion, it seemed that not only was this little girl strange, but she was also a wheel thief.

“Alright, where is it?” He grumbled.

“What?” The little girl asked coyly.

“The wheel? What did you do with it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb with me!” He could hear his voice raise at the girl’s bewildered expression. “I know you have it!”

“I swear I don’t-- well, I mean I don’t swear because Daddoo says it’s not nice to swear-- but I know I don’t have it. Here, I’ll show you.”

She then reached into the pockets of her skirt and pulled out a bunch of trinkets and trash she had collected over time. “See, I have a bobby pin, two pennies, a piece of lint, a heart sticker…"

As the vendor was preoccupied with the girl, another child appeared behind the hot dog cart. Just like the little girl, he had long ears that drooped like a puppy’s, white fur on his face that covered his black fur like a mask, a red nose, and beady black eyes that made him look more animal than human. The only distinction that he was more human than animal was a green sweatshirt he wore (yet he didn’t wear any pants.) The boy stuck out his tongue nervously as he watched the little girl prattle on to the hot dog vendor about the items in her pockets; it seemed like she had a lot for just two measly pockets.

Seeing that the vendor was distracted, the boy began piling hot dog packs, bratwurst packs, hot dog bun packs, small bags of potato chips, soda cans, anything he could get his paws on and threw them into a random sack that he pulled out of nowhere. Well, more like from behind him. But how he made a sack appear from nothing was really something.

Meanwhile, the girl did everything she could to keep the vendor’s attention on her at all times.

“See, I don’t have it. I only take things that can fit in my pockets,” she explained.

“Fine, so you don’t have it,” the vendor grumbled once more. “But how is it that it hasn’t been missing all day, and then suddenly you show up, and it’s gone?”

“Don’t know. Sounds like a ‘you’ problem.”

The boy was taking an awfully long time. Every time he grabbed a hot dog packet or a bratwurst packet, his stomach lurched – the thought of eating meat was the bane of his existence.

Suddenly, the mustard bottle slipped out of his paws just as he reached for it, and rolled right in front of the girl and the vendor. To make matters even more awkward, the vendor stepped on the bottle and it squirted a dark yellow onto the pavement.

“Huh? How did that get there…” The vendor turned and finally noticed the boy. The boy let out a startled gasp and shivered where he stood.

“Um, hey! Wanna see me do a dance?” The girl chirped, trying to divert the vendor’s attention back to her. She then performed a couple of twirls seeing if that'd work, but it was too late. The vendor had already noticed the thief at his stand, her partner in crime.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?!” The boy immediately closed the sack and scrambled out of there. “You have to pay for that!”

“Run, Smakko!” The girl cried as she raced after him. As the boy sped off like a frightened hare and the girl caught up to him in seconds, it was clear that the two were related.

Twins.

She was the distraction, and he was what the hot dog vendor should have been looking out for. Now here they were, little dog-monkey rascals that were better off locked up in a zoo than running away with his product.

“When I get my hands on you two, I’ll make sure you’ll get what’s coming to you!” He roared after them.

“But you have to catch us first!” The girl shouted with a giggle.

All through the park, the vendor chased after them. The chase felt like it went on for hours with the kids’ insane energy and the vendor’s determination to get his product back. It wasn’t until the kids ran smack dab into an officer minding his own business that they were finally caught. Immediately upon collision, he grabbed the two kids by the scruff of their clothes and held them up like noisy kittens, mostly pertaining to the girl who kicked in defiance while the boy hung there like a wet rag.

“Are these two giving you any trouble?” The officer spoke in what also appeared to be a deep Liverpool accent. He sounded a little like Ringo Starr. For some reason, upon hearing the officer's voice, the girl settled down.

“You bet! Those mongrels there stole my hot dogs!” The vendor exclaimed, pointing a large index finger at the two.

“Not like you were using it anyway,” The girl spat.

“Those two need to be taken back to the zoo where they belong!”

“No worries, sir. I’ll take care of them,” The large officer said, eyeing each of them with a stern glare. “Now give the man back his dogs.”

The boy then handed the vendor the giant sack. It seemed lighter than what he thought it would be. “Well appreciated, officer,” the vendor thanked.

He gave the vendor a small wave, “No need for thanks. All in a day’s work." Then he gave the kids another stern glare. "Let’s go, pups.”

For some reason, as the officer walked off with the two kids curled in his arms, they seemed too content for having just been apprehended. Well, the boy still had that fearful look in his eyes as if it was stuck that way, but the look on the girl’s face was one that was not expected; she seemed too happy.

The further the vendor walked away from them, the more he realized that the officer himself looked kind of strange. He looked like any other big officer just patrolling the city and keeping the neighborhood peace, yet then he remembered his face...something was off about it. It was pale, almost like it was covered in fur, he had a big red nose, and he had beady black eyes, just like those kids…

Suddenly, he stopped and opened the sack to find that his cart’s product wasn't in there, just a bunch of stuffed rubber dogs that squeaked.

He’d been duped. Those weird kids and that weird officer were all related and they made off with his hot dogs. He wasn’t going to let them get away with it that easily. The vendor ran right up to them, his face red as the ketchup bottles that were just stolen.

“Thieves!” He screamed at them. “Who do you think you are?”

The officer then stopped and set the kids down, “Well, I know for a fact that I’m no Bizzie.”

Suddenly, he tore off the hat to reveal pierced dog-like ears sticking out of a baseball cap that looked like it had been beaten up over the years, especially with that giant bite mark that ate half its bill. Long unkempt black fur-- or it might have been hair-- flowed past his shoulders, while some even jutted out from his hat. Underneath the uniform, he wore a blue sweater covered with a brown leather jacket, torn jeans, and giant white paws that he walked upon just like the two kids. In likeness, this man could have been a rock star had he not had the black and white puppy-dog face like the kids and stuck out his tongue to compliment the look.

“What are you?!” The vendor shuddered in bewilderment. He couldn’t decide whether he was some mutated dog or probably the ugliest man he had ever seen.

“Why he’s my Daddoo, silly!” The girl giggled. “I’m Jojo,” then she pointed towards the boy identical to her, “and this is my brother, Smakko." Then she held out her arms and posed, while her brother seemed hesitant to follow suit. "And we’re the Warner twins!"

“I don’t care if you were the Olsen twins. I demand that you give me back my hot dogs this instant!"

“I hope you don’t mind me asking,” the man referred to as ‘Daddoo’ asked, “but that wouldn’t happen to be your cart, is it?”

The vendor then turned to see his hot dog cart speeding right towards them. Without a moment to react, the vendor was hit right with the cart and sent flying down the path while the father and his children moved to the side just in time. Luckily for the vendor, the cart didn’t go right into the busy streets of downtown traffic, but it did crash him into a nearby tree, causing the poor man to see hotdogs flying over his head.

“Look sir, your wheel came back,” Jojo pointed out.

“Yes, I see that,” the vendor said dizzily, then passed out.

“Naughty kids,” the father scolded, “who taught you such awful manners?” Then a giant smile appeared on his face, his tongue sticking out once more.

“Now what do you say to the nice man?”

“Thanks for the hot dogs, sir!” Jojo thanked with a wave.

“Thank you,” The boy named Smakko only muttered.

The hot dog vendor perked up from his short comatose just as the father, with both of his strange puppy kids, the girl clinging to him like a koala and the boy clutching the bag filled with his product, walked away. No doubt about it, this was a horrible day, both personally and economically.

But really, why did it matter? The vendor's cart was surprisingly okay, despite the crash and the strange reappearance of the wheel. Not to mention, there was a lot more product than what the family made off with, but losing those profits was going to hurt him. He'd have to lower the price of those dogs, and bratwursts, and basically everything at his cart just to make up for the stolen product.

He went to authorities about it, but all they did was laugh, except for one, who seemed to shake in his seat at the mere mention of puppy-kids. Like they were going to be any help.

Eventually, the hot dog vendor had to shrug off this brash occurrence and continue with his business. People were still going to want hot dogs, and unfortunately be desperate enough to pay ten bucks for it.

However, this strange moment like a fly in the ear returned to him one day when he was visiting his family. His nieces and nephews were busy watching an old cartoon that he remembered was on when he was a kid called “Animaniacs,” which was considered one of the greatest cartoons of the decade. Of course, he didn’t think much of it now that he was a man in his thirties, but during this particular viewing, there was something that stood out to him.

The three main kids, with those long ears, black-furred with pale white faces, those red noses, and those beady black eyes…they looked exactly like the kids that harassed him at the park. Not to mention, the boy wearing the baseball cap looked exactly like the timid boy who barely spoke a word during their encounter. The boy in the show brimmed with confidence compared to the shy nature of the boy who had the gall to steal his hotdogs, yet had his sister do most of the talking.

Then another thought occurred to him. The father of those two children also wore a blue sweater, and his head was covered with a red cap similar to the boy’s in the show, except his was worn with age. Then there was that smile, that puppy-dog-looking face with his pink tongue sticking out as if to distract from the fact that he was a freak of nature. He also brimmed with tons of confidence. How could anyone go out in public looking the way he did, with that long unkempt hair, those piercings that bit at his ears, and the strange rock star vibe he gave off just by being near him?

No, it couldn't be. But maybe?

Could possibly the middle child, the hungriest, the quietest, and the wackiest of the Warner trio next to his chatty older brother and his sassy younger sister might have grown up into the man he encountered at the park? That strange man with his strange children who were also giant troublemakers like he was. Could possibly the father of those two twins might have been…

Wakko Warner?

#animaniacs #rocking that solo #wakko warner #jojo warner #smakko warner #animaniacs 2020 #older warners au #animaniacs ocs #abbs writings

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toothlessturtle21 · 4 years

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Cold Blooded

So as some of y’all know, I’m a fanfic author, so I figured why not publish some of my oneshots on Tumblr? So, here’s the first one in a (maybe) series of oneshots being posted. Enjoy!

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Jay's talking gets him into a lot of trouble, sure, but when he's faced with a mob boss who wants to work with him to resurrect his dead father, his chatter might be his only weapon. (Mafia AU) (tw: kidnapping, guns, mentioned death)

All of his life, Jay had been told that his excessive blabbering was annoying. His friends and his family were not safe from the chatter, everywhere and all the time. And god forbid that he was nervous, because butterflies in his stomach seemed to equate to words spewing from his mouth like a fountain. So when he found himself tied up and blindfolded after a nasty run-in with some gang members, what else was he supposed to do?

"So, uh, what kind of wood is the chair I'm in made of? It feels pretty strong, but I also can't see the color to make any guesses," Jay quirked his mouth, and one of the men nearby grumbled, having put up with his incessant rambling for the better part of the hour. "Is it grainy? I can't really tell through my pants, but if it is you guys should really sand it. Splinters are no joke, even if you're wearing gloves. They always wait until you're least expecting it and then ouch, there's wood in your hand."

His company was silent, perhaps hoping that he would shut up if left unanswered. After a few beats of silence, Jay tapped his feet on the floor, an uneven rhythm that was in no way musical. He tried to think of some beat to mimic that would take his mind off of his situation. He hummed some jingles, some pop songs, and even snuck a little bit of some showtunes in there before a harsh slap to the cheek stopped him, causing Jay to cry out indignantly.

"Hey, I'm just messing around! What's the big deal anyway? You guys are the ones who nabbed me off the street, why should I listen to- mmph!"

A hand was slapped over his mouth very quickly, accompanied by a sharp shh. For once, Jay decided to listen, and heard another man in the room on the phone.

"Please sir, he's driving us insane, can't we just..."

Silence for a few minutes. Jay's heart raced at the thought of there being a man higher up waiting to get his hands on him, despite his current situation already being pretty undesirable.

"Wait, really?"

Muffled words from the other side of the line were audible now, and the man with him laughed a little, obviously relieved.

"Thank you, boss! We'll get him to you right away."

And just like that, Jay was in the air, the chair he was tied to lifted by some thug, and he squawked in surprise as he was gripped roughly by strong hands, the grunts talking amongst themselves as they brought him along. Finally, they stopped, and set him down onto a tile floor, judging by the sound of the legs hitting the ground. One ripped off his blindfold, and they immediately scurried away, leaving Jay to blink his eyes like a newborn kitten to adjust to the light.

"Ah, so you're the famed Ninja of Lightning. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Walker."

Jay finally found his sight, and discovered he was in an office, of sorts. The walls were a circle, bookshelves lining the room, except for the one area where a cabinet full of guns stood. The furniture was elegant, smooth curves and a sleek black sheen to everything made for a very intimidating look.

What was even more intimidating, however, was the figure perched on top of the desk at the far back. He looked to be young, black leather clothes contrasting with his stark white hair, combed back into a feathery undercut. Clear blue eyes stared the ninja down, and Jay felt his skin crawl under the scrutiny.

"Oh, don't tell me they harmed your vocal chords on the journey over, I've heard so much about your jabber," The man slid off the desk, striding over with quiet steps. Now that Jay was closer, he was quite tall, most definitely taller than himself.

"No, they didn't," He managed to squeak out, clearing his throat afterwards. "And how do you know my name?"

"I know a lot of things," The man shrugged. "For example, I know that you were born and raised in a trash heap, your favorite food is blackberry pie, and your name is James."

"If you know so much about me," Jay's cheeks burned from hearing his birth name and from the insult towards his parents' livelihood. "Then who are you?"

The man thought for a moment before answering, almost as if questioning himself. He seemed to finally decide on an answer after a few tense moments.

"Call me Snake."

"No offense, but you don't really don't look like a Snake," Jay blurted, and the man raised an eyebrow in amusement. "I mean, you have a pretty blue, black, white color scheme going on, and snakes are usually green. You seem more like an Spider or Shark to me than a Snake. You don't give me slimy vibes."

"Thank you for the feedback," Snake nodded, stepping back a little. "I suppose I will keep that in mind for the next time I have to choose a persona to give to strangers."

"Was that a joke I heard?" Jay asked, and Snake's expression never wavered. The blonde looked at his gun cabinet for a split second before returning his gaze to his hostage.

"So, Mr. Walker, it has come to my attention that you are especially skilled in robotics, correct?"

"I mean, yeah, but-"

"What do you normally create?"

"Small robots, mostly. Y'know, can sweep things, stack bricks, charge phones, and..." Jay trailed off, mentally slapping himself. "Actually, it's none of your business what I do. You're the one who organized my kidnapping, I'm not telling you anything!"

"Hm, just as we were doing so swimmingly. Very well then," Snake walked away, returning to his desk. He once again avoided the chair, choosing to stalk Jay from his desk like a bird of prey.

"Also, consider changing your name to Falcon. Still fits better than Snake."

"I thought we had moved on from my name, James," Snake smiled amusedly. "Although Falcon does have a nice ring to it, thank you. Perhaps I will keep that one in mind."

He pulled his legs up, crossing them on his desk. It was then that Jay noticed the portrait sitting next to his knee.

"Hey, who's in the picture?"

Snake's expression darkened, and Jay's heart picked up once more at the thought of his last words being so lame.

"Perhaps you don't understand your situation. You are in no position to be asking questions, especially ones about my personal life. As far as guests go, you have been treated rather graciously, Mr. Walker. Although I do consider myself rather forgiving in the face of insubordination, I too have a limit."

Jay went quiet, at least for a few moments, but a sudden bird cry followed by a black shape swooping past his face made him shriek, and Snake laughed at his expense. He held out his arm as a black bird rested on him, and Snake gently took the note from its mouth.

"You really are quite entertaining. I might keep you just for that."

"Usually my jokes are a little more thought out than- wait, what do you mean by keep-"

"Hush, I am trying to read, James. Do be polite."

You could hear a pin drop as the man read, cool blues scanning the page. He bristled as he hit the bulk of the letter, presumably receiving bad news.

Snake scoffed, and snatched a lighter from beside him on the desk. He lit the flame, and held it up to the paper.

"Burning letters is so much safer than texting, wouldn't you agree? Plus, fire can be oh so fun to play with if done properly."

"I'm not really a big fan of fire. I guess I just don't like heat."

"I would be inclined to agree. Ice is often much more effective, anyway. It is a silent killer, with much less destruction than fire."

"Um, killer?"

"I run an organized crime ring, do you think I reached where I am by playing nice and holding hands?"

"How did you weaponize ice?" Jay asked, and then quickly backpedaled. "Uh, sorry, no questions, I'll stop."

"There are many ways, but I will indulge you with my personal favorite," Snake released his bird, the avian flying out the small window it had come in from, and stalked towards Jay. He touched a gentle hand to his bound arm, and Jay felt his breath quicken at the contact.

"I am the master of ice. Blood is half water. If I were to concentrate right now, I could freeze your veins and arteries, leaving you stiff like a doll. My ice does not melt easily, and so it creates a wonderful display if presented properly. Of course, the victim would need to be positioned correctly, but that is beside the point."

"You're sick," Jay strained against his bonds, suddenly comprehending the danger he was in. "Is killing people a game to you?"

"Not necessarily. If I kill by necessity, then deaths are quick and painless. If they have wronged me greatly, however, I enjoy watching them writhe to the best of their ability as they feel their blood freeze under my grasp."

"Then why am I here? I haven't wronged you, as far as I know, and I'm not already dead. What do you want from me?"

"I want your expertise. I am interested in your abilities. You are skilled at creating artificial life, James. While I have trained myself in many areas, capturing the essence of a living being is something I've yet to grasp."

All of a sudden, the puzzle pieces clicked in Jay's head. The color scheme, the white hair, the obsession with birds and robotics, and the ice all suddenly brought back memories that Jay forgot that he had.

"...Zane?"

The blonde smiled sadly, and then let out a small, hollow laugh.

"Ah, so you do remember. It's been a while, I know."

"Yeah, since we were toddlers."

"Are your parents well?"

"As far as I know, yeah, they're pretty good. How about your dad?"

Zane scowled, resting his chin on his hand.

"Dead. Killed in one of your little endeavors fighting Garmadon. Tasteless, really. My father deserved a death more fitting of the great mind he was than rubble crushing his body."

"I'm so sorry," Jay bit his lip, dread filling his bones. "So, uh, you're a gang leader now?"

"In a way, yes. I was already rising to power when he died, and his passing only drove me further. And now we are here," Zane gestured to the Lightning Ninja, still tied up. Jay's fingers twitched from their bound position.

"So why didn't you tell me your name off the bat?"

"What would be the point in that? None of the men under me know my name, so why I would I tell a stranger?"

"Fair, I guess. So why am I here?"

"Considering that you killed my father, I feel it is only right that you bring him back too."

"I'm the master of lightning, not a necromancer!" Jay writhed in his bonds. "And I haven't killed anyone. You're insane!"

"I'm not insane, I'm insulted you would think that way," Zane frowned. "You recall how I told you that my ice was especially cold, correct?"

"Yeah? What's that got to do with anything?"

"I have his body frozen downstairs. My ice takes an incredibly long time to melt."

"You what?" Jay shrieked. "I'm going nowhere near a frozen corpse!"

"You won't need to," Zane reassured, although his tone was anything but lenient. "I have brought you here for your mechanical skill. Together, we can bring my father back to life."

"And if I say no?"

"I have a cabinet full of guns to my side as well as the power to freeze your blood, and you're tied up at my mercy. We may have met in our earlier years, but familiarity has never stopped me from killing before."

"Uh, okay, noted," Jay said hurriedly, annoyed at himself for forgetting his situation. "So you want me to help you bring your father back to life by building him a body? But what about his memory?"

"You leave the software to me. You're here for the hardware."

"Ok, ok," Jay nodded slowly, although his mind was going a mile a minute trying to figure out how to escape. "Can you untie me though? I can't exactly build if I'm stuck here."

"You just called me insane and have been nothing but resistant this whole time. Why would I let you roam?" Zane sneered, crossing his arms. "However, I can release you to some extent, since you will be working for me."

And with that Zane untied and retied him so that his hands were still bound, but had enough wiggle room to work. Zane kept a length of rope knotted around the middle, to prevent the Lightning Ninja from breaking away.

Jay's cheeks burned at the thought of being led around like some pet, although he supposed his captivity could have been more humiliating. At least Zane was holding him by the wrists and not by some borderline kinky rope collar.

"What, don't like it?" The blonde laughed genuinely, albeit a little cruelly. He glanced over Jay, almost as if reading his mind. "I could change the positioning, if you'd rather. I was trying to spare you some dignity."

"No, it's fine," Jay looked down and away, refusing to make eye contact with the man currently holding him on a leash.

"James, if we're going to be working together, you need to be able to look at me."

"Don't call me James."

"Why not? If you call me Zane, I feel as though me calling you James is just as personal. Although I do request that you call me Snake in front of the others. I have worked for a long time to reach my status, and I would hate to have my persona crumbled by one pesky ninja."

"Fine, I'll call you Snake, just don't call me James."

"You are in no position to bargain, but I suppose I could allow you this one reward."

"Don't call it a reward, I'm not your pet," Jay hissed, and Zane raised an eyebrow threateningly. Jay gulped. "Sorry."

"Now then, shall we get started?" The blonde purred, and Jay bit his lip to stifle a snarky comeback. His stomach decided to respond for him in the form of a growl.

"Uh, actually, do you have any food?"

"Pardon?"

"I haven't eaten in a while, and nerves makes me extra hungry once I stop feeling anxious. Do you have anything to eat?"

"I'll have someone grab some food for you."

"Thanks," Jay said quietly, and silence fell over the pair, Zane staring off into the distance as if calculating something. "I really am sorry about your dad. I remember him being pretty nice."

"The last memory I have with him is the day before he died. He was telling me about his newest plans for building a robot capable of passing the Turing Test. It was shaping up to be a wonderful project, I would have loved to have seen it."

"Yeah, that would've been really cool. I wish I was better at programming, y'know? People like hardware and stuff, but it's really the code that makes a machine cool. Like, I wish I had a fraction of the capability that your dad had. Wait, if you're planning on bringing him back, that must mean that you're pretty good at coding too, right?"

"I suppose so. But what does this have to do with resurrecting my father?"

"If you miss him more for his inventions than his company, maybe you shouldn't be bringing him back."

Zane didn't say anything, but his eyes bore holes into Jay's head, blue iris filled with cold fury. If looks could kill, Jay's blood would already be solid. Just as Jay was about to backtrack and retract the statement, sensing that it did way more harm than good, Zane yanked Jay towards the side of the room, holding fast to the rope while rifling through the cabinet holding his guns.

"Z- Zane, wait, what are you-"

"Shut up."

The room was silent except for Jay's panicked breathing and his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. Zane pulled out a handgun, the sleek black barrel glinting in the low light of the room.

"Are you religious, Jay?"

"N- No."

"Then pick a god and pray."

Zane loaded it quickly, and pulled Jay closer before he could react, pressing the weapon against his forehead. Jay felt tears form in his eyes, the realization that he was about to die making his muscles spasm and he kicked out, landing a hit on Zane's knee but also handicapping himself, his shaky limbs betraying him as he fell to the floor.

"No-! Don't, please, I'm sorry, just please don't shoot!"

"Too late. We cannot work together, and now that you know who I am I cannot leave you alive."

"I won't tell anyone, I promise! I don't want to die!"

"Neither did my father, and yet you still killed him anyway."

"I- I think I understand why you want him back."

Zane kept the gun pointed at his head, but allowed him to continue.

"You feel like you have no one left for you. Sure, you have your cronies and whatever, but you're just lonely. And you don't have to be," Jay offered, and squeezed his eyes shut just in case the next feeling he knew was a bullet going through his brain. Seconds passed, and nothing happened. The rope around his wrists was still pulled taught in Zane's grasp, but nothing changed.

After a few more moments, Jay slowly opened his eyes to see the gun still pointed at him, but the expression on Zane's face had changed into one of uncertainty.

"What do you mean I don't have to be? I have nothing left."

"You're the master of ice, right? I'm sure Sensei wouldn't mind another student, if you're willing."

"You- you want me to join you?"

"Okay, if I'm being honest, maybe not. You did just almost shoot me. But maybe you could make some friends. It wouldn't do any harm to lower your guard a little."

Zane looked away, and the hand holding the gun shook.

"Damn it," Zane muttered to himself, voice broken, and roughly untied the ropes holding Jay's wrists together. "Just go."

"You're letting me leave?"

"Just get out before I change my mind," Zane mumbled, throwing his gun down on his desk and sitting with his head in his hands. "You're right."

"Hey, woah," Jay couldn't believe his own actions even as he performed them, but he walked towards his captor and rested an easy hand on his shoulder. "I mean, thanks for letting me go, but take care of yourself, alright? We may on opposite sides here, but I'm sure you can be a nice guy if you set your mind to it."

Zane looked up, gaze weary.

"I'm not sure about the truth of your statement, but I appreciate the sentiment. Goodbye, Jay. Perhaps this will not be our last meeting."

"Maybe not," Jay pat him once on the shoulder before walking away, finding his way out pretty easily. Sure, he could run back to his friends and storm Zane's hiding spot if he wanted to, but something told him that would just end up with Zane putting a bullet through his own head instead of Jay's. As he was greeted by the cool night air, he decided on two things.

One, he needed to go back and talk to Zane again sometime, as he was still sure that there was a good guy down there somewhere. And two, never before in his life had been so thankful for his chatter.

#ninjago #ninjago jay #jay walker #ninjago zane #ninjago fanfiction #ao3 #fanfiction #mafia au #mafia #Mob Boss!Zane #not romantic #but could be read as the start of slowburn #gun tw #kidnapping tw #toothlessturtle21 writes

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anubislover · 4 years

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Welcome to the Heart Pirates, Nami-ya Chapter 7: Payback

Instinct kicking in, Nami lifted up her right leg, slamming the stiletto of her high heel down onto her assailant’s foot. The surprised yelp he let out and the loosening of his arm gave her the opening she needed to drive the sharp point of her elbow back into his diaphragm, winding him. As he gasped for air she finally had enough leeway to break from his hold, spinning around as her hand went for the Clima-Tact strapped to her right thigh, ready to fight.

Another scream attempted to crawl up her throat as her mystery attacker was revealed, this time out of irritation. “Law! You creepy bastard; are you trying to get yourself killed?!”

Rubbing the soft, sensitive spot beneath his ribs where her elbow had made contact, he chuckled breathlessly. “Please, like someone like you could kill me.”

“Why did you even do that?”

“I felt like it.”

A frustrated vein popped out of her forehead, but at least her hand fell away from her weapon. If any of her crew had tried a stunt like that, they’d be nursing a concussion and probably some electric shocks. Law was lucky she still feared him enough to keep her temper in check. “If you don’t give me a better reason than that I’m gonna prove I can kill you, you asshole.”

“Fine, it was payback for leaving me behind,” he stated, crossing his arms, an annoyed frown tugging on his lips. “You’re one hell of an actress, Nami-ya, and I applaud your quick thinking, but next time, try to come up with an exit strategy that involves both of us; I had to set a curtain on fire then teleport myself out the window in the confusion.”

Scoffing, she cocked an eyebrow in disbelief. “A curtain? I counted at least four separate fires in there.”

He shrugged. “I only accept blame for one. Harpin really shouldn’t set up candelabras near flammable materials and clumsy, easily riled up guests. It’s just lucky White Chase was on hand to act as a living fire extinguisher.” Piercing eyes softened fractionally as they landed on her injured shoulder, the streaks of dried blood a stark contrast against her ivory skin. “Let me look at that.”

Nami tried to wave him off as he caged her against the wall, insistently tugging down the sleeve of her dress to study the shallow cuts. “I’m fine!” she squeaked, pushing against his chest futilely. What was with this guy and invading her personal space?

“As your doctor and captain, I insist.” The smooth leather of his gloved fingers gently prodded the crescent gashes, his frown lessening when he saw they’d already begun to clot. With a curt nod he said, “I’ll clean these up when we’re back on the ship; she missed the artery, so they’re hardly life-threatening, but if they get infected, I’ll tear that bitch’s head off.”

The violence in his tone should not have sent such a pleasant shiver down her spine. “I think we should just send her your medical invoice and the dry-cleaning bill; heart attacks are less messy.”

His lip curled up into the familiar, cocky smirk. “That is the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me,” he purred, leaning his forearm against the wall above her head so he could loom over her. It was times like these that she really hated that he always wore boots with heels; what right did a six-foot-three lanky bastard like him have to wear shoes that made him even taller? It practically negated the three extra inches her own heels gave her.

On her post-mission shopping spree she was going to buy the tallest pair of platform heels she could find.

Arching her neck like a swan so she could meet his eyes, she quipped, “Thank you for reminding me just how creepy you are; I was almost starting to forget.”

The heavy stench of burning fabric and the frantic shouts of the party guests were muffled in the little side hallway, but still strong enough to nearly mask the sound of a pair of heavy footsteps tromping in their direction. Had Nami’s senses not been on high alert due to the adrenaline pumping through her veins, she might have missed them along with the tell-tale scent of cigars.

“Shit, Smoker’s coming!” she whispered harshly, eyes wider than a Jolly Roger’s.

He cocked his head to the side, listening. “Sounds like it.”

“What do we do?” The easy answer would be to sneak through the servant’s door behind them, but there was too much of a risk that the Marine could catch the movement of the fluttering curtain or hear the slam of the door and investigate; then they’d look even more suspicious, sneaking into hidden areas like a couple of crooks.

Law seemed to have come to a similar conclusion, as well as developed a plan in the span of two seconds. She just wished he’d taken the time to clue her in before capturing her lips with his and pulling her curvy figure tightly against him in an amorous embrace. At first, Nami stiffened, instinct telling her to slam her knee into his crotch for being stupid enough to make a move on her at a time like this, but as the heavy footsteps stomped closer, she figured it out and gave as good as she got, tilting her head to allow Law better access and wrapping her arms around his neck, only squeaking slightly when he hoisted up one of her long legs to hook over his narrow hip.

The ballroom kiss had been tempting, but this one set her body on fire. Maybe it was the adrenaline from the thrill of being caught, but her flesh seemed oversensitive, the soft fabric of her dress brushing her skin juxtaposed with the harsh feeling of one large hand massaging her thigh while the other fisted her hair sending delightful shocks down her spine. Pressed against the wall, his body heat permeating through their clothes, dirty fantasies began to fill her head. She imagined him slowly sliding down her body, leaving teasing kisses in his wake, before dropping fully to his knees, ripping open her gown, and burying his head between her thighs.

The mental image, combined with Law’s tongue sensually prodding the seam of her mouth, made her thighs clench, the leg around his waist unconsciously drawing him closer. An involuntary moan escaped her throat just as the loud footsteps halted, the sickly-sweet scent of tobacco filling the air.

“The fuck do you two think you’re doing?”

Law was the one to break the kiss, turning his head just enough to glare at Smoker over his shoulder, the raven mask’s stern design making it that much fiercer. “Making up after a fight,” he panted, and the annoyance in his tone didn’t sound fake, as if he was genuinely displeased with the interruption.

If it had been a false alarm and Smoker hadn’t walked in on them, would Law have continued kissing her? Forced his tongue past her plush lips in a quest to discover what she tasted like? Tested his luck and slid his hand higher up her thigh? Would she have even tried to stop him?

White puffs of smoke drifted towards the ceiling as the Marine stared them down with disdain. “Yeah? Well maybe you should save that shit for the bedroom; makes me less likely to arrest you for public indecency.”

Nami’s face went bright red beneath her cat mask; had they really been that bad or was Smoker just a prude? Given how the right shoulder of her dress was hanging dangerously low and her entire left leg was exposed, cradling Law’s pelvis flush to her own, she was inclined to believe the former. “We’re really sorry,” she mumbled shyly, gently pushing Law away. He seemed reluctant to vacate his place in her arms, but after a slightly more insistent shove—along with a light kick to the back of his thigh—he finally dropped her leg, the hand in her wig sliding down to rest between her shoulders so she could safely regain her footing. Forcing tears to her eyes, she sobbed dramatically, “It’s just been such an awful night, and I was upset; that terrible old woman said so many horrid things to me…”

Slipping back into his role as the caring boyfriend, Law cradled her head to his chest. “Shhh. It’s ok, sweetheart. I know you’d never lead a man on, and you’re a hundred times classier than anyone in that room. And I’m sorry I got so angry; it’s just seeing that bitch hurt you—”

“You’re hurt?” Smoker cut in, concerned. “How bad?”

Pulling away, Law indicated the streaks of blood, mouth set in a sour frown. “Lady Beatrix must have knives on her fingers instead of nail extensions.”

“You need medical assistance? We could probably ask a servant if they’ve got any bandages.”

He shook his head. “I’m a doctor, and I’ve got a first aid kit back on the ship. They’re not deep, but I’d rather treat her myself than risk an underpaid servant messing it up.”

“Then I’d be happy to help you press assault charges.”

“Tempting, but I get the feeling the Harpins have enough money and connections to get it swept under the rug, nor do I trust them not to pay off the other guests to say I assaulted her.”

Peeking over her shoulder, Nami could see Smoker’s teeth grinding against the filter of his cigar in agitation. “Unfortunately, you’re right; I’m actually out here because Harpin bitched at me to track down the guy who hit his sister.”

“I swear I did nothing more than restrain her; she was the one who tried to hit me.”

“Oh, I believe you; that crazy bitch has tried to claw my eyes out once or twice.” He chuckled a bit, tapping the ashes of his cigar onto the marble floor. “She claims we’re all common street trash, but the second she gets pissed off, she fights like a gutter rat. So, what do you wanna do, Dr. Goodheart?”

The pair tensed. “You know my name?”

“Hina said you were the guy who helped her avoid Harpin while I was out hittin’ the head.” His eyebrow raised slightly, not missing their reaction. It wasn’t unusual; most people, even good, honest citizens, would be wary of an authority figure so easily identifying them. Still, Nami could see in his eyes that he was sizing them up, trying to place their faces to any of the hundreds of wanted posters he glared at every day.

“Of course,” Law replied, carefully keeping relief from bleeding into his voice. “Well, I’m sure you understand that I’m reluctant to let myself get arrested, especially for something I didn’t even do.”

“Mister Smoker, I know we caused a bit of a scene in there, but please don’t tell anyone you saw us,” Nami pleaded, chestnut eyes wide and frightened. Pulling away from her partner, she clasped her hands together beseechingly. “I promise neither of us meant any harm, and I just want to go home.”

The pirate hunter’s frown deepened. “Yeah, I can relate.” He sighed. “Look, technically, I should still be bringing you in since she wants to press charges but making sure nobody got hurt from that fire is way higher up on my list of priorities. So, since you did Hina a solid and Beatrix is a crazy bitch, I’m gonna pretend that I found a different couple making out in the hallway and head back. If I see Harpin or his shit family coming this way, I’ll try to hold them off. You kids get the hell out of dodge in the meantime.”

“Oh, thank you, Smoker-kun! You really are the hero everyone claims!”

Did she imagine it, or was there a faint splash of pink across his cheeks? It was hard to tell in the dim light. “Yeah, yeah. Just save any further ‘making up’ for when you’re not in public; I’m not covering for your asses a second time because you couldn’t control your damn hormones.”

With that, he spun on his heel and marched down the hall, not even sparing them a glance as he turned to head back to the ballroom. Nami was honestly surprised he’d let them go; maybe it was because he didn’t realize they were pirates, or he just hated Harpin that much. Either way, she was grateful he was willing to turn a blind eye just this once.

The second Smoker was out of sight, a blue aura surrounded them, and in the time it took to blink, they were halfway up a flight of narrow, creaky stairs. Glancing up at Law questioningly, he indicated the door at the bottom. “Took us through the servant’s entrance. Let’s get to the fourth floor; there’s a storage closet near the top where we can stash your dress. I need you light on your feet, not weighed down by wallets.”

“You’d better retrieve it before we get out,” she said firmly, poking his chest, “otherwise I’m charging you for my lost profits, plus 500% interest.”

He rolled his eyes before easily jogging up the stairs, his long legs letting him take the steps two at a time. Carefully gathering up the hem of her gown, Nami followed, scowling at his rudeness; she was shorter than him and wearing high heels, so shouldn’t he be more accommodating to her pace? It was a small but stark reminder that he was a pirate, not the gentleman he’d been pretending to be all evening.

Of course, their interaction in the hall had already done that; even if it was just an act, polite, well-bred gentlemen didn’t kiss like Trafalgar Law.

The door into the mansion’s fourth floor foyer was silent as he carefully nudged it open, the hinges well-oiled to prevent any noise from potentially disturbing the master of the house. Servants were supposed to be practically invisible until called for, able to pop out at a moment’s notice without so much as a sound. The closet was right beside the servant’s entrance, out of the way and easily ignored, perfect for hiding a Cat Thief’s contraband in.

Law quickly checked his watch. “Six minutes before showtime. Once the first distraction hits, make a beeline to the study. We’ll have to be quick; since White Chase and Black Cage didn’t take my advice to leave early, they’ll probably go after the crew. Ikkaku’s team might be able to draw their attention towards the mansion’s docks with their little surprise, but I’d like to avoid as much bloodshed on our side as possible.”

Not liking the idea of her new friends having to take on such dangerous Marines by themselves, Nami didn’t complain about being ordered around, merely slipping inside. A pull to the string hanging from the ceiling cast the closet in a dim glow, revealing an assortment of cleaning supplies, bedding, and a row of neatly pressed, copper maid uniforms, complete with headpiece, apron, and opaque tights. “I’m kind of surprised you didn’t have us sneak in dressed as servants,” she observed, glancing around.

The door closed behind her, and she stiffened as she heard Law’s voice whisper in her ear, “I considered it, but as much as I’d love to see you in a skimpy uniform, I don’t have the best track record with maids.”

Though startled at his closeness, she wasn’t surprised; logically, it was better to hide out with her instead of lingering outside where he might draw attention, and she was beginning to get used to his disregard for her personal space. Turning to face him, she raised a curious eyebrow. “Aw, does someone have a jilted lover?” she asked with a teasing smirk. “Some innocent maid you seduced and left with a broken heart?”

He scoffed, leaning against the door. The storage closet was decent-sized, though with the bedding and clothes taking up most of the space it felt cramped, especially for a man as tall as Law. “Childhood acquaintance at best, and I’m pretty sure she’d try to kill me if we ever saw each other again.”

“Well, I mean, who wouldn’t?”

“Then it’s a good thing my powers can get me out of trouble.”

Realization dawned on her, causing Nami to scowl and smack his shoulder. “Wait, you could have teleported us through the door before Smoker saw us, couldn’t you?”

His too-wide grin returned to his face, the skin around his eyes crinkling. “Possibly.”

“Then why didn’t you?!”

Chuckling, he stepped forward, caging her against the wall. Nami was beginning to think it was his default move for throwing her off-balance, and worst of all, it kept working. “Because I changed my mind; that was my payback for leaving me to figure out my own escape. It works out in our favor, though, since White Chase will have no reason to suspect we were involved when shit goes down,” he stated, hand absently brushing the batons strapped to her right thigh. Automatically, the thief’s hand smacked it away, but her back stiffened as he whispered, “Besides, you could have used your Clima-Tact to hide us—I think you were just looking for an excuse to make out.”

“Like hell I was!” she snapped, embarrassed. God, she hadn’t even thought about using her Mirage Tempo, too overwhelmed to even think straight. As much as she hated to admit it, Law’s quick thinking really had saved their asses, though it didn’t excuse his choice to kiss her instead of using his powers.

A strong hand quickly slapped over her kiss-bruised mouth. “Quiet, Nami-ya,” he murmured. “Or are you hoping to draw attention so I’ll have to kiss you again?”

When all she could do was let out a couple angry grunts in response, he laughed lowly.

I swear, he gets off on being a smug bastard, she thought sourly, russet eyes glaring daggers into his self-satisfied expression. Out of spite, she tried to bite his palm as punishment for manhandling her, but the smooth leather protected the delicate skin.

Despite not managing to hurt him, Law clearly felt her attempt. “Careful, sweetheart; I don’t mind a little biting, but I pay back with interest.”

Nami stiffened when she felt his molten breath against the exposed skin of her uninjured shoulder. His grey eyes homed in on the taut tendons of her neck, like a vampire in one of those raunchy paperbacks she’d secretly bribe Robin to get for her. The color might have been a dramatic change, but the intensity was all too familiar at this point. Before she could so much as try to squirm away, his long arm wrapped around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides. Quick and silent as an owl, he swooped in, latching his mouth onto the exposed flesh right above her thundering pulse.

Any sounds of protest were muffled by his hand, and though she tried to struggle, the close quarters of the closet mixed with his unyielding grasp made it next to impossible to maneuver about. The hand clamped over her mouth bent her head to the side, presenting him the full expanse of her tantalizing skin.

Worst of all, the feeling of his hot mouth against her pale throat was incredibly arousing. The man didn’t settle for just kissing or sucking—he bit, licked, and lavished the spot with a single-minded purpose. It was a perfect storm of sensation; the sharp sting of his teeth was immediately followed by the soothing stroke of his tongue. Firm sucks countered by delicate caresses from his lips. Nami’s sounds of protest gradually trailed off, and she had to bite down on her own lip to keep him from knowing they’d turned into sighs of pleasure. She really hoped he didn’t notice the way her knees started to tremble slightly every time he gave a particularly sharp nip. A low fire burned in her belly and her body cried out for him to bless other parts of her with his delicious attention.

He didn’t let up for at least a full three minutes, taking his time and savoring the way her fading struggles rubbed her soft breasts against his chest. When he finally released the flesh with a slick pop, followed by one last sensual sweep of his tongue, he paused a moment to admire his handywork before dropping his arms.

Pleasure clouding her brain and chest heaving, it took Nami an embarrassingly long time to regain her senses. When she did, though, her glower could have frozen whiskey. “And what the fuck was that for?”

“As always, payback. Your little mikan juice prank left an embarrassing mark on me, so this only seems fair.”

She didn’t need to see her reflection to know there was an unmistakable hickey on the side of her neck, and given how much effort he’d put in, the color likely complimented her tourmaline jewelry. “How the hell am I supposed to cover this?” All her shirts were low-cut, and if it was a bad as she assumed, even caking on her foundation wouldn’t completely do the job.

His expression was completely unsympathetic. “How the hell was I supposed to cover my sunburn? I guess you’ll just have to deal.”

“You are such an asshole!”

He chuckled but didn’t argue, hands straying down to her belt, easily undoing the black jeweled buckle.

She nearly shrieked as she batted his hands away, shoving him back with all her might. “Now what the hell do you think you’re doing?” The kiss and hickey had been one thing, but there was no way in hell she was going to stand by and let him strip her down.

“Helping you out of this dress so we can start the actual mission.”

“I can undress myself!”

“If you insist,” he replied, taking a step back to lean against the wall, watching her intently.

His heady gaze brought a hot flush to her cheeks. “Turn around!”

“You’re hardly naked under that dress, Nami-ya, and I’ve seen you in less. What are you so embarrassed about?”

“I’m not embarrassed; I just don’t need you ogling me like a pervert.”

“You don’t like me looking at you, yet you’ll shamelessly straddle me and use the pretense of putting on sunscreen to feel me up. Such an appalling double-standard.”

“You know I only did that to distract you from the sunburn!”

“So you finally admit you did it on purpose, eh?”

“You—!” she snarled before the house rocked, a deafening explosion echoing down the halls. Her legs shook as the sound made her ears ring, disorienting her briefly and making her nearly miss Law’s nonchalant comment.

“Ah, and there’s Shachi’s distraction,” Law said, glancing at his watch, face morphing into a serious frown. “Playtime’s over, then.” Bird skull cane in hand, he expanded his Room around her, murmuring “Scan” as he swept it to the side. Nami shrieked as her dress, wallets and all, vanished from her body and reappeared in Law’s waiting hand.

Without the billowy fabric of the gown she felt utterly exposed in her black bodysuit; the undergarment was little more than a bathing suit, its spaghetti straps, plunging neckline, and high leg holes designed to be virtually invisible beneath her dress and allow her unencumbered movement once they started sneaking around. Yet despite how incredibly sexy it was, hugging her curves and showing off a tempting amount of skin, Law looked at her with the same stoic, professional expression he’d worn in the infirmary.

After silently securing the gold gown onto an empty hanger, he pushed open the closet door, ushering her outside when he confirmed the coast was clear. “We have no time to waste; that explosion is sure to have attracted White Chase and Black Cage, and I don’t want my men fighting them any longer than necessary.”

Somehow, Nami felt more uncomfortable than if he’d been openly leering at her. How was it that he always seemed the most uninterested when she was wearing the fewest clothes? Was it just situational, or was there something about her naked skin that repulsed him? Perhaps he had some kind of weird fetish for fully dressed people, or he just enjoyed teasing her because he found her reactions amusing and not because he found her particularly attractive?

She knew this wasn’t the time to let insecurity cloud her mind, so she shoved her thoughts to the side, though she was certain they’d crash back down on her when she went to sleep that night. For now, she immersed herself in the burglar mindset, following Law into the hallway and toward the study six doors down.

Though hardly as large or grand as the ballroom, it was definitely the domain of a rich man. Mahogany furniture, Bookshelves that reached the ceiling, gold-framed paintings, crystal lamps, suits of armor, and massive windows dominated the room. What really drew the eye, though, was the solid gold statue of a giant squid even taller than Law, its massive tentacles arched as if waiting to grab its prey.

Mere feet from that, though, in the back-left corner of the room, was the Seastone safe. Lacking ornamentation and hardly larger than a bedside table it was as innocuous as it could get. Which, given the Baron’s tastes and the value of what was inside, meant it was clearly trapped.

Law once more used his Devil Fruit to Scan the room, snorting derisively. “Idiot hasn’t even changed the booby traps since I was here last. There’s a massive Seastone net that’ll fall from the ceiling if you step on the third row of tiles from the entrance. A pressure gage will drop a steel grate in front of the door if the safe is moved.” He pointed to a suit of armor much like Reginald’s costume that was positioned conspicuously close to the safe, a long halberd clutched loosely in its gauntlets. “There’s another pressure tile right in front of the safe; if you stand on it too long, that blade will bisect whoever’s standing there.”

“I’m surprised there aren’t more,” Nami replied, glancing around the room suspiciously.

“Oh, there are, but those are the ones you need to worry about. Your mission is getting that safe opened; I’ll deal with anything else that comes up.”

As much as she wanted to scowl as his brisk orders, she knew this wasn’t the time or place. Later, though, she had every intention of giving him a piece of her mind about how to talk to a thief volunteering her precious time to help steal classified Naval information.

She took special care to follow Law’s lead, watching for any out-of-place movements or tiles, not trusting that he hadn’t forgotten to tell her about another trap. When they were securely across the room, the Cat Thief carefully studied the safe; the main body was definitely made of Seastone, but what concerned her was the dial. It was common stainless steel, but it was a model she’d only seen prototypes for; instead of deciphering three numbers, the combination could be anywhere between four and fifteen numbers long. That meant it would take longer to unlock, and there was no way of knowing how long the sequence was except through trial and error.

“I know it’s Seastone, but can’t you teleport it out of here so we won’t have to worry about getting caught?” she asked nervously.

“I could, but I’m trying to avoid Harpin figuring out who robbed him. There are only so many Devil Fruit users who could avoid his traps and make a whole Seastone safe disappear, my name’s at the top of that list. Should we leave a calling card, too? Maybe ‘Trafalgar Law and Cat Thief Nami were here’ on parchment paper with gold calligraphy?”

“Fine, fine. Just a thought,” she grumbled, unstrapping the collapsible stethoscope she’d borrowed from the sub’s infirmary from her thigh. Without any clue to the combination, there was no other option than to listen to the little gears inside as she turned the dial and hope she got the correct amount of numbers. The trouble was it was slow, delicate work with no room for distractions, and with the pressure tile and potential noise the next explosion would inevitably cause, she was already on two separate timers.

A deep, steadying breath filled her lungs as she prepared to start, only for her eyes to drift over to where Law was studying the little plaque at the base of the squid statue, his face dark and hands clenched so hard she was surprised the leather across his knuckles didn’t split.

Curious, she peeked over his shoulder to read aloud, “‘Thanks for everything, Harp! Love, Doflamingo.’” Her eyes widened in horror and shock. Of course she’d heard that name, along with several blood-curdling stories that ensured she’d never willingly cross his path. “Donquixote Doflamingo? The shichibukai? What’d Harpin do to earn a solid gold statue from that guy?”

“Nothing good, that’s for sure,” he ground out through his teeth, eyes locked on the name as if trying to set it on fire.

“And why’s it a squid?”

“Who the fuck cares?” Law snapped, stalking away from the statue towards the window. “You’re wasting time. The dock will explode in three minutes, and Penguin’s squad will set off their bombs six minutes after; if that safe’s not open by then, I’m going to have to assume your skills are limited to petty pickpocketing instead of real burglary.”

She bristled at the insult but forced herself to let it roll off her back. They were both stressed, nervous about the crew and getting caught and the potential for things going horribly wrong due to forces beyond their influence. Law in particular was a control-freak, used to his powers negating most obstacles he might face, while Nami had always had her nakama watching her back, ready get her out of any trouble she might find herself in. They were both in a situation they weren’t comfortable in, and the only way they were going to get through it was to stop going for each other’s throats and just get the job done.

“Just keep quiet so I can work,” she replied, getting back into position.

Glancing out the window into the mansion’s gardens below, Law’s eyes widened. “Fuck!” he hissed, drawing a thin, hidden sword out of his cane.

“What wrong?” she asked, panicked.

A swirl of energy formed in his hand as he prepared to activate his Room. “White Chase has Shachi’s group cornered. I count at least four injured, and the last three stand no chance against his powers.” He gave her a stern look. “Stay here and focus on cracking that safe. I need to see to my crew.”

“But—!”

Her protests were met only with empty air as blue energy engulfed him, teleporting him outside to aid his men.

“He’s supposed to be a pirate; why does he always seem to run off on me to play hero?” she grumbled, turning back to the safe. Still, if Smoker had already taken down half of Shachi’s team, they needed Law’s help way more than she did. She could only hope Hina was busy protecting the guests instead of hunting down the rest of the Heart Pirates.

Now without her backup and lookout, Nami knew she really had no time to waste. But she also had no one to warn her if Harpin was coming. No one to pull her out of the way if the pressure trap sprang. What she did have was a lock that took potentially five times longer than normal. She started to quake in fear as she realized Law hadn’t specified how long it took before for the pressure trap to activate; just that it was on a timer. Glancing up, the razor-sharp blade of the long axe glinted menacingly in the light, angled just so that it would slice straight through her skull when activated. She had half a mind to remove it, but that might waste even more time.

Tense and terrified, she pressed the stethoscope to the safe door and carefully began turning the dial, anxiously listening for those telltale cues that she’d gotten the right combination.

Eight…seventy-two…forty…ninety-six…fifty-six…twenty-four. On the first attempt the door remained firmly shut. Either the slight tremor in her hands had messed her up just enough, or she hadn’t gotten the full combination.

Ok, let’s try again. Eight…seventy-two…for— The second try, she was distracted by the distant sound of an explosion; Ikkaku’s team had struck. It hadn’t been nearly as loud as the first explosion, but it completely threw her off, jumbling her already whirring mind making her hand jerk the delicate dial too far.

Frustration made her cheeks flush. She knew it wasn’t the crew’s fault—they were just following orders—but did Law have to come up with a plan where bombs would go off during the time she needed to focus the most? And couldn’t he have come up with a better distraction than loud, floor-shaking explosions? As if the blood bounding in her ears wasn’t deafening enough!

Halfway through the third attempt—which was already going badly because her hands were shaking to the point she was certain she’d fucked up the first turn—she scampered away from the safe, certain that she’d seen the halberd’s shadow move and that she’d activated the trap. Looking up fearfully, she realized it was just her mind playing tricks on her, as the blade didn’t so much as twitch.

Nerves on edge, she knew she needed to calm down before she could try again. Standing up and crossing the room, she peeked out into the hallway, hoping that doing so would give the pressure tile a chance to reset while making sure no one would stumble across a sexy thief in a skimpy black bodysuit. The coast was clear, but she didn’t feel any more secure. Part of her even wished someone was coming so she’d have an excuse to give up, or at least hide until she’d fully calmed down. But she knew if Law did come back and found she’d given up, he’d be furious, and his men would have gotten hurt for nothing.

This would be so much easier if I at least knew how long the combination was, she groused, pacing and wringing her hands fretfully. She was halfway tempted to look out the window and check on the battle below, but she knew that if she saw things weren’t going well her panic attack would get even worse.

I should just cut my losses and run. Those books can’t be worth all of this, Nami thought, heart vibrating like a hummingbird against her ribcage. Why’s Law counting on me so much for this? How does he know I won’t screw up and get captured? And if I do get caught, there’s no way he’d risk rescuing me; I’m not even part of his crew! What kind of moron puts such blind faith in someone like me? What do I do?! What do I—

A voice in her heart that sounded oddly like Luffy replied, Quit screaming your head off. You’re a nakama of the future Pirate King. Don’t make that pathetic face.

Unbidden, a smile came to her lips, her terrified, cowardly thoughts dissolving like sugar in hot tea. Luffy was the kind of moron who had blind faith in her. Had since they met, even after she turned him over to Buggy. That plan had put him in a far more dangerous position than she was in with Law’s, and yet he still asked her to be his navigator. In Cocoyashi, he refused to believe her heartless witch act and freed her from Arlong, declaring her his nakama. Back on Skypiea, her captain had told her to quit being a coward and live up to her position as a member of his crew. He’d even entrusted his treasured hat to her. He’d never do that if he didn’t believe in her ability to keep it safe, to still be there when he finished his battle. And she wouldn’t have stayed by his side, risking life and limb, if she didn’t believe in his ability to beat the odds and come out on top.

Luffy would be Pirate King someday because he had faith in both his crew and his own abilities. Shouldn’t she do the same?

Determination swept through her and she watched her hands lose their tremor. She was a scaredy-cat, but she always came through when her crew needed her. How could she be expected to aid her nakama in the New World if she couldn’t rob one little safe for the Heart Pirates? She was the Straw Hat navigator and master thief, and nothing would stop her.

A chance glance at the octopus facade cared into the dark wood of Harpin’s desk nearly made her slap herself even as a laugh bubbled up in her throat. The Baron was obsessed with octopi. The Navy called him “The Golden Octopus.” On her first attempt at cracking the safe, she’d only gone up to six rotations, but now she could see the pattern.

The answer was painfully obvious; the safe’s combination was eight numbers long, all multiples of eight.

Ok, Nami, you know what to do, and you need to make this one count, she thought, cracking her knuckles as she crouched in front of the safe. Once more steady as a surgeon’s, her hand confidently took hold of the dial. Get it open this time and you can get the hell out of here; you can grab your dress, let Law know you’ve got the stupid information, and he can teleport the crew back to the sub before anyone else gets hurt.

Blocking out every sound save the delicate mechanisms inside the safe, the dial glided easily back and forth, each tiny click ringing through her heart like Skypiea’s golden bell.

Eight. Seventy-two. Forty. Ninety-six. Fifty-six. Twenty-four. Sixteen. Eighty-eight.

Upon the eighth turn she halted, gently tugging on the safe’s handle, the door opening as smoothly as Zoro’s sword sliced through the air.

Reverently, she removed her prize, kicking the door shut and shuffling back to the base of the suit of armor as a precaution. In her hands weren’t files like she’d expected, but three black, leather-bound ledgers, each embossed with raised gold letters on the cover.

The first one was titled “Intel,” and curious to know what secrets the Navy might have entrusted to the likes of the Baron, she decided to sneak a little peek. Opening to a random page her eyes widened at what she saw, and she quickly scanned through other sections, growing more and more concerned. Even at a glance, she could tell every page contained sensitive information; coordinates of secret bases, copies of un-redacted mission reports, scientific research signed by Dr. Vegapunk, formulas for chemical weapons, and even a detailed diagram of the Pacifista robot. Most of it was older information that a former Marine Intelligence officer would have easily been able to come by, but some of this stuff was from as recent as last week!

Reginald said Harpin was basically forced to retire, Nami thought as she opened the second ledger, this one more innocently titled “Personal,” but it looks like that hasn’t stopped him from gathering information. Why, though? What could he possibly need it for?

Based on the label, she’d expected it to be full of the Baron’s own information, like finances and family secrets, but instead it was personal information on various World Government officials, Marines, and royal families. There were dossiers on the likes of Smoker, Hina, Kizaru, Akoji, Wapol, King Sterry, King Cobra, and so many others, and it included family trees and notable accomplishments, along with damning photos, eyewitness accounts of indiscretions, reports of war crimes, and notes on potential ways their connections or powers could be used to Harpin’s advantage. In other words, it was pure blackmail.

As damning as the first two books were, it was the third that made her shiver. In simple gold letters, the word “Shichibukai” gleamed up at her. Cracking it open, she cautiously thumbed through the pages, swallowing hard when she realized it was full of dossiers just as detailed as the last ledger’s, only this time solely dedicated to past, present, and even potential Warlords and their crews. Sir Crocodile, Kuma, Boa Hancock, Doflamingo, even Ace and Blackbeard were given extensive profiles that appeared frequently revised and updated.

Her fingers paused on a familiar name, the image of a stern, whale shark Fishman’s face glaring up at her.

“Knight of the Sea” Jinbei.

It was a name she’d heard at Arlong Park.

“Here’s your food, human,” Hatchan sneered, tossing a plate of Takoyaki onto her desk. Plenty of the crew liked to take out their tempers on her when they thought they could get away with it, and though arguably the least aggressive, Nami knew not to mess with the six-armed swordsman when he was in a bad mood. “Too good for the likes of you, but nobody else wanted them and I didn’t feel like wasting time cooking anything else.”

The insult washed over Nami like a gentle wave; after two years trapped in Arlong Park she was used to it, and she was just grateful they deigned to feed her at all. When they’d first set her up in her horrible chart room, they hadn’t cared whether or not she was given proper food until she had passed out from hunger. It was only then that Arlong had decreed she needed to be fed at least once a day, and that job was typically treated as punishment among the Fishmen.

Famished, she popped one of the fried balls into her mouth, eyes widening in surprise at the taste. “Th-these are really good!” she said, eagerly swallowing it down and reaching for another.

Hatchan’s expression was just as stunned. “Really? You like them?” he asked excitedly, two pairs of hands clasped together in joy.

“Yeah, they’re great!” Ordinarily, the very idea of complimenting one of the monsters that had enslaved her would have been sickening, but she was too hungry to care. And they really were delicious. Way better than the cold porridge or burnt meat she usually got.

He seemed unusually pleased, crossing his arms and grinning proudly. “Well, I guess even a human can have good taste. If I hadn’t become a pirate, I’d have opened up my very own Takoyaki stand on the Grand Line.”

“Why didn’t you?” she asked through a mouthful of fish. The young cartographer didn’t really care, but the longer she kept him talking, the more time she had to give her cracked and bleeding hands a break from the hours of mapmaking.

He sighed. “Just about everyone thought an octopus selling Takoyaki was ridiculous. It would have been hard to stay in business back home, and not a lot of other places would accept a Fishman setting up shop. Jinbei always encouraged me to follow my dream, but I’d already promised Captain Arlong I’d help him achieve his.”

Jinbei. She’d heard that name before, usually when Arlong was drunk or in a bad mood, cursing it with more venom than a Man-of-War Jellyfish. Who was he? An old enemy? A bounty hunter? Someone strong enough to defeat the Fishman Pirates and save her village?

The saw-nosed captain was terrifyingly strong, but not invincible. Maybe she could contact this Jinbei person and hire him as an assassin? She’d slowly been saving up money to buy back Cocoyashi, but she’d happily give it all to anyone who could kill her mother’s murder. And Arlong had the highest bounty in the East Blue, so surely she could use that as further incentive; she’d pay what she could, and the government would handle the rest.

Adopting a look of wide-eyed innocence, Nami turned to fully face Hatchan, “I’ve heard Arlong mention someone named Jinbei before. Just in passing, though. Who is he?”

“Oh, he was one of our comrades when we were part of the Sun Pirates. If you think Kuroobi’s Fishman Karate is strong, Jinbei’s blows him out of the water! Even Arlong couldn’t beat him!”

“He sounds strong.” She’d never been particularly religious, but it was beginning to feel like God was finally cutting her a break. Her tearful prayers were being answered, and Jinbei was the savior she’d been waiting for.

“He is!” Hatchan said cheerfully, clearing away her empty plate. “Strong enough that the government made him one of the shichibukai! I’m glad he accepted; otherwise Captain Arlong would still be in Impel Down.”

Her hopeful heart stopped. “What?”

“Yeah, when they recruited Jinbei, his only request was that they release Arlong from prison,” he said as he strolled out the door. Popping his head back in, he gave her a jovial smile. “Sure, they had a bit of a falling out after, but I like to think they’ll make up someday; after all, they’re practically brothers!”

As the door locked behind him, the young girl didn’t even feel the sharp sting of the tip of her pen piercing her palm.

Jinbei. Jinbei the shichibukai. It was his fault. If it weren’t for him, Arlong would still be in Impel Down. He never would have set foot in Cocoyashi. Bellemere wouldn’t have died to save an ungrateful daughter. Nami never would have been taken prisoner, forced to draw maps in this horrible room while the rest of her village lived in fear.

She didn’t have a savior. Just another demon added to her personal Hell.

Blinking away tears, Nami forced herself back to the present. Later she could read up on the man who’d set lose the worst monster the East Blue had seen in decades. Right now, she needed to get out of there. Law and the Heart Pirates were still fighting outside, and she needed to let them know the mission was a success so they could make a break for it.

Her ears perked up as they caught the sound of a faint voice coming down the hall, angry and vaguely familiar.

“I don’t care how far away they are, Tokikake; I need a Navy fleet here right now! Those ungrateful peasants have finally snapped and decided to set up bombs all over my property!”

The Baron was on his way to the study and there was no way she’d be able to get out unnoticed. Wasting no time Nami ducked behind the suit of armor and pulled out her Clima-Tact to quickly cast her Mirage Tempo, rendering herself invisible just as Harpin stormed through the door, mini Den Den Mushi in hand, obese face bright red with rage.

As much as she didn’t want to be in the same room as their slimy host, it was honestly better to sit still and wait for the opportune moment. Even if he’d primarily had a desk job, and even if he was in his seventies, it was safer not to underestimate him. Plus, if he was really calling for backup, she’d rather know what to expect and where they were coming from. Would the Navy send Kizaru or Aokiji? Did they really believe it was the poor, starving villagers attacking the mansion, or were they speaking in code?

The radio snail’s face was unimpressed. Nami didn’t recognize the dark brown fedora and cigarette between its teeth, but she let out a silent sigh of relief when it replied, “Harpin, if the townspeople are revolting against you—which honestly, I wouldn’t blame them—Hina and Smoker should be able to settle things. I’m not risking civilian casualties.”

“My mansion is currently filled with the crème de la crème of society! Their safety is far more important than those filthy peons!”

“All the more reason to not order a Buster Call,” the snail replied, and Nami barely managed to stifle a gasp. Was Harpin insane? He’d risk innocent lives over what he assumed was a rebellion from farmers and fishermen? “So, since that’s out of the question, why don’t you use that big brain of yours and come up with a better solution? Maybe try reasoning with them. Pay them off, even. Isn’t throwing money at the problem your normal go-to?”

Harpin sneered. “I haven’t given those fishmongers a single belli in nearly three years, and I’m not going to start now! They’re lucky I even let them live on my island! Now you get me that fleet—”

“Kkkkk—sorry—kkk—breaking up—kkkkkkkk,” the vice-admiral said, faking static.

“Tokikake, don’t you dare hang up on me! If you do, I’ll—”

“In case you’ve forgotten, Gorudotako, I’m not scared of blackmail. The worst you’ve got on me is that time you caught me golfing when I said I was visiting my mother, and I think the higher-ups would be more interested in what you were doing there; wasn’t that the weekend you were supposed to be visiting Impel Down? Considering Straw Hat’s miraculous break in-and-out two years later, I wouldn’t be surprised if Akainu starts assuming you were in on it. That whole mess at Marineford really pissed him off, and he’s been looking to melt anyone who might have been even vaguely involved.”

Speechless, all the Baron could do was make faint protesting noises, rightfully terrified of the Admiral’s fiery wrath. From where she was hiding, Nami could see thick, greasy beads of sweat dribble down the back of his head.

The Vice-Admiral gleefully continued, “On top of that, since your ‘retirement,’ certain information seems to be finding its way to ‘Big News’ Morgans and other underworld types who really have no business knowing. Now, I’m not one to toss out accusations, but leaking classified information, especially for profit, is a serious crime. One certain parties are considering investigating you for.”

“You dare to question my reputation?!” Harpin demanded, slamming his hand down on the desk barely an inch from the Den Den Mushi.

The snail’s grinning face didn’t even flinch. “Buddy, your reputation is a joke. When you left, we got over a hundred reports of sexual harassment by your former female subordinates in the first month. That alone warrants investigation. Hell, we only waited so long because there’s been so much damn paperwork to go through and Tsuru wanted the case against you to be airtight. Then those rumors about certain documents getting leaked came out…”

“You’re not going to find a damn thing!”

“Funny, I would have thought an innocent man would say there’s nothing to find.” Satisfied with getting in the last word, Tokikake hung up, the Den Den Mushi immediately falling asleep.

For a moment, the room was dead silent, Harpin staring blankly at the sleeping snail, mouth gaping open and closed like a fish that had been hooked through the gills. Just as Nami thought she might be able to use his catatonic shock as an opportunity to sneak out, his expression changed into a mask of rage, grabbing the mahogany armchair by the desk and flinging it into the wall beside the knight’s armor with enough force to splinter the tough wood.

Startled, Nami shrieked, dropping the ledgers to shield her face from wayward splinters. Unfortunately, such a distraction caused her illusion to drop, revealing the sneaky thief.

Not expecting company, Harpin whirled towards the woman, anger and suspicion melting away as his gaze swept over her curvy figure wrapped up in a tight, revealing bodysuit in clear appreciation. She suddenly missed Law’s professional, disinterested gaze, insulting as it had been.

It was only when watery eyes reached her leopard mask that they widened in recognition. “Wait…you’re the harlot who insulted my nephew! What are you doing in my study?”

Thinking quickly, Nami decided her best option was to use his obvious love of women to her advantage. Hips swaying sensually, she strolled up to the desk like a runway model, biting the tip of her finger coyly. “I’m really sorry about that; I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, but he’s just not my type.” Leaning against the desk, she arched her back and thrust out her voluptuous chest, fluttering her long eyelashes for extra measure. “Why would I go for a scrawny little peacock when I could have the strong, sensual arms of an octopus around me?”

Though she nearly gagged just saying them, her words did the trick, Harpin’s temper immediately dropping to be replaced by smug satisfaction. He was definitely related to Kujakumaru, as he spoke directly to her cleavage. “Well, I suppose I can’t fault you for having such high standards. The boy is dear to me, but he does rather pale in comparison, doesn’t he?”

“Like a rock next to a diamond,” she cooed, hooking his chin with her index finger to make sure his eyes stayed on her instead of straying the spot next to safe where she’d been hiding, the black ledgers still conspicuously laying on the floor.

“Oh, I’d say more like coal,” he replied, shuffling closer, his hand boldly landing on her upper thigh, fingers groping the firm flesh. It was almost the exact same spot Law had touched when they kissed, but this wasn’t nearly as pleasant. “He has the potential to become a diamond with the right conditions, but for now he’s best at providing warmth to lucky ladies.”

“You’re so poetic! Smart men are just so sexy.” Unable to come up with another compliment due to the sheer disgust at his touch, she changed the subject. “I’m curious, Baron Harpin; why do you love octopuses so much?” she asked as if she didn’t already know.

“It’s octopi, actually,” he said condescendingly before puffing out his chest with pride. “In the Navy, I was touted as ‘The Golden Octopus.’ Impressive, no?”

“Extremely! How’d you get a name like that? Octopi are so slimy, and you’re anything but!” she giggled, dislodging his hand so she could sit on top of the desk. When he started to frown at the loss of flesh to grope, she distracted him by twirling one of his greasy braids around her finger, even as she gaged whether or not she could distract him long enough to knock him out with an electric shock.

Pleased with her flirting and the fact that her new position brought her cleavage even closer to his gaze, he crowed, “It’s because of my long reach and exceptional brilliance! Octopi are some of the smartest creatures in existence, after all. The World Government specifically made me the head of Intelligence because I could get anything from anywhere at any time. I had dozens of informants in kingdoms across the Grand Line, the underworld, and even in other Navy divisions. There was no rumor or piece of information that didn’t go through me. My mind was the World Government’s greatest asset; no average man could handle keeping track of so many secrets or make use of such extensive contacts.”

“Wow,” she replied, proud of herself for keeping the sarcasm out of her voice. When his hand once more drifted towards her thigh, she instinctively caught it. She could see the annoyance at her small rejection darken his face, so thinking quickly she took the hand in both of hers, fluttering the faintest kiss across his knuckles. Looking deeply into his eyes, she cooed, “You must be one of the smartest men in the world! How could the Navy ever have let you retire? They should have begged you to stay.”

“They should have!” he groused. “Instead my enemies conspired to unseat me, threatened by my revolutionary way of thinking. Did you know it was I who first proposed the shichibukai system?”

“You were?” Now that was a legitimate shocker, though it explained why he had a whole ledger dedicated to them.

“Of course! The World Government might not want to admit it, but there will always be pirates in the world. So long as there are laws, there will be those who seek to break them. So, why not ally with exceptionally strong pirates to cull the herd?” he cooed, free hand trailing a sausage-like finger along her cheek.

“Why, that is clever!” she said breathlessly, even as she seethed. From Jinbei to Crocodile to Blackbeard, the shichibukai system was one that just kept causing trouble. The World Government claimed it controlled them, but really, it just made them even more dangerous. If this guy really was the one who put such a broken system in place, she was going to make sure he got what was coming to him.

“Profitable, too! The best pirate warlords understood that our relationship was a business arrangement; they get immunity, while we get a cut of their treasure. Why, the Doflamingo Pirates even sent me a lovely retirement gift,” he crowed, proudly pointing towards squid statue.

“But that’s not an octopus,” she said, genuinely confused.

He scowled, good mood evaporating. “Ah, yes, Doflamingo did that on purpose; he always loved teasing me for being called ‘Gorudotako’ when I was saddled with the Ika Ika no Mi.”

“…what?”

“Such a cruel trick of fate, to be saddled with the ignoble squid instead of the far superior octopus! The peons below me would mock me in the shadows for it; some even suggested cooking me up like calamari if we ever ran low on food! So I made sure to erase all evidence of my powers from the records and only use them on very special occasions.”

Without warning, Harpin’s arms began to morph into two long tentacles, his hands flattening out into club-like appendages covered in tiny suckers, while the side-seams of his suit split open as six additional, slightly smaller tentacles burst out. Black, watery eyes swelled wider, head stretching back into a hooded point to accommodate, and as his mouth opened, his teeth molded together to form a sharp beak that poked past saggy lips. His skin took on a sickly grey color, the texture smoothing out to something rubbery and inhuman.

The final result was so horrific Nami didn’t want to look directly at him, instead leaping off the desk to dodge the sticky tentacles that tried to grab her. Unlike Hatchan, who was cute in a comical way, the former Marine was more like something out of a horror writer’s seafood-induced nightmare. Each tentacle glistened and writhed as if it had a mind of its own and were lined with wicked-looking suckers.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t know who you are, Cat Thief Nami?” he gurgled, voice distorted as if he were speaking underwater. Honestly, she was surprised he could talk at all with the beak sticking out from between his lips. “I’ve stared at your wanted poster as much as any man; I’d recognize that sexy stare and tattoo!”

Crap, she thought, assembling her Clima-Tact. She needed to think fast if she wanted to get out of that room in one piece. Glancing at the ceiling, she created a small storm cloud, watching it slowly grow above them. “Dark Cloud Tempo!”

It was one of her stronger attacks, but she knew it needed time to properly charge before it would be enough to take down a Devil Fruit user, so she played for time by creating an assortment of copies with her Mirage Tempo.

“Ah, so many lovely visions to choose from; good thing I have an arm for each!” he laughed, sending out six tentacles to sweep across them. The writhing arms were quick and stretchy, almost like Luffy’s when he used his Gomu Gomu powers, though not nearly as versatile. Using her copies as distractions, Nami wove and dodged each strike, calculating russet eyes observing their movements, hoping to find a pattern or weakness she could use to her advantage.

Her copies didn’t last long, dissipating with a single blow, but she was pleased to find his reach was limited to about eight feet for the smaller arms and maybe eleven for the two clubbed primary tentacles. He may have had more arms than Luffy, but he certainly didn’t have the rubber boy’s reach.

The real Nami once more out in the open, Harpin charged forward, tentacles snapping out like javelins, crashing into the floor and breaking off little pieces of tile upon impact. “I was hoping I’d have the pleasure of meeting you, Nami-chan, and here you are! Was it my gold that that enticed you, or me?”

“Ew, don’t touch me, creep!” she cried. Jumping back, she launched a gust of wind, the powerful gust forcing him to keep away from her. So long as she kept her distance, she had an advantage, and she wasn’t going to give it up easily.

“You’re such a tease, Nami-chan. I thought you wanted my big, strong arms wrapped around you,” he cooed lewdly.

“Buddy, I’d rather sleep with an actual fish than you.” Glancing up at the black cloud, she smirked, forming a spark on the end of her batons. “And even if you were my type, I’d have to take a rain check. I’m forecasting thunderstorms this evening. Look out for lightning strikes! Thunder Bolt Tempo!”

Tossing the little ball of electricity up into the dark cloud, she practically cheered as it crackled and popped, a bolt of lightning crashing down onto the squid-man, kicking up smoke and cracking the marble tiles beneath him.

Certain that he was out of the game for at least a few minutes, Nami made a beeline for the door, praying that she could grab her dress before escaping down the servants’ entrance.

Luck was not on her side, though, as Harpin wasn’t incapacitated; just angry. “You bitch!” he snarled, patches of flesh sizzling horrifically, the stench ashy and putrid. Grabbing the mahogany desk, he heaved it against the wall by the door, cutting off Nami’s escape. “How dare you? As if insulting my nephew and threatening my sister weren’t enough, you have the gall to attack me?!”

Looking between Harpin and the shattered remains of what had been incredibly sturdy furniture, she desperately tried to think of a new plan. For an old, half-squid freak, he was tougher than he looked and not nearly as stupid as she’d hoped. “Hey, you’re the creep who can’t keep his ugly tentacles to himself! No means no!” she shouted, creating another electric ball.

“As if low-born trash like you has the right to refuse me!” he snapped, leaping into the air and blasting himself forward like a squid projected itself through the water. He cleared the room in a single burst, forcing Nami to launch herself to the side to avoid getting hit and decimating the distance that had kept her safe. Catching the thief off-balance, two of his arms lashed out, knocking her Clima-Tact away and wrapping tightly around her wrists. The blue batons rolled uselessly across the polished floor as their owner shrieked in pain and horror. Each sucker that latched onto her flesh was lined with a sharp, finely serrated ring of chitin. They didn’t cut deeply, but it was enough to make struggling painful. On top of that, they yanked her arms back so hard she was surprised they weren’t jerked out of their sockets.

Beautiful pirate at last in his grasp, Harpin stepped in closer, appreciating the gorgeous body in front of him as she kicked and writhed. “You really are as lovely as they say,” the Baron chuckled, the smooth back of one of his clubs stroking her face. It flipped around to rip the purple wig off her head, revealing her signature orange hair. “Maybe I won’t turn you in right away; I think I’ll have some fun with you, first.” Two more disturbingly clammy arms ran up her bare legs before forcefully pulling them apart, easily overcoming her attempts to fight back. The very tip of another curled just inside the fabric covering her left breast, tugging playfully. Distorted lips smirked around his beak. “I mean, you’re asking for it, running around in an outfit like that.”

Twisting helplessly, she knew there was no way she’d be able to fight him off without help. Before the mess on Sabaody, she’d pin her hopes on Luffy, Zoro, or Sanji rushing in to save her just in the nick of time, but her nakama was scattered across the Grand Line. Crying and begging for mercy was no good, as her best-case scenario involved being turned over to the Marines, while just the thought of the worst-case made bile burn in the back of her throat.

Without her crew, her only choice was to stall until Law came back, assuming Smoker hadn’t captured him. Or worse, that he’d left her behind. “Not a chance in hell! I’m not into weird hentai shit. And even if I were, honestly, ugly old sissies who resort to blackmail are a huge turn-off.”

Her quick thinking worked, as Harpin looked genuinely offended, though it unfortunately made his grip tighten, bladed suckers digging deeper into her skin. “‘Resort to blackmail?’ Stupid little girl, you act as if cunning isn’t its own strength! Knowledge is power, and blackmail is the ultimate type of knowledge. It’s stronger than Devil Fruits and Haki combined! A man can be physically tough but find that dark little secret and threaten to bring it into the light, and you’ll see how he crumbles like a sandcastle against the waves.”

“And you’d do that to your own comrades?!” she asked, teeth clenched against the pain. The elastic tentacles around her legs were crawling higher, squeezing and leaving thin, shallow cuts that stung every time she so much as twitched. Now she understood why the maid uniform included opaque tights; to hide evidence of his horrible touch from visitors.

“Pretty kitty, it’s how I built my career!” The tip of his club slapped her cheek lightly. “By making the right connections and spilling nasty little secrets, I took out irritating rivals, made excellent allies, and put whole governments in my pocket. The Navy may have forced me out, but they still couldn’t keep their secrets from me; my reach is too long, and I have my arms wrapped around too many people,” he said, squeezing tighter for emphasis.

“And I’m supposed to find this attractive?”

“You should be honored I’m even bothering with you! When I was head of Intelligence, queens and Marines alike made their way to my bed!”

“And how many of them came willingly?” came a voice from the entryway.

Turning her head, Nami’s eyes widened behind her mask as Black Cage Hina strolled into the study, mercury gown and regal scowl worthy of a goddess of war.

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smilerforyou · 5 years

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Stitched by the Hand

A/N: I’m back bitches! It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written fic! Enjoy!

Stitched by the Hand (Gale/Madge) (Victorian Era, London)

East London was the called the “darkest London” for a reason. Poverty raged everywhere one looked because of the increase in population in London since the Industrial Age begun and slums thrived off the poor. Smoke billows out of chimneys of sweatshops, black and dirty with grim and the smell of dirty sweat perspiring off the workers inside. A boy with short, black hair, long limbs, and handsome face works diligently with his right hand as he wipes the sea of sweat off his forehead. He makes neat stitches into the thick, glossy fabric of silk and pinches the fabric together with the other hand. He thanks god – if there is a god – that the fabric is dark and none of the rich posh Londoners would see the sweat stains lingering along the inseam. His stitches are precise and quick, every fourth stitch doubled. He’s required to make 12 pairs of pants per hour, which gives him exactly five minutes per pair, two and half minutes per leg.

He wipes sweat from his hairline again and finds his forehead warmer than usual. Although sweatshop’s temperatures run high with the bodies so closely packed together, his body feel weighted down and his face warmer than he’d like. Cholera is going around like wild fire through the slums and sweatshops, burning through people like crazy. He worries he’s caught the disease. His stomach drops and his visions goes unsteady for a moment as furnace puffs out another wavy of hot air.

“Gale!” someone shouts across the room. He turns around in his seat to look at the man – the owner in his slim cut suit and newly polished shoes – waves him over. Gale’s heart speeds up a little in his chest as he sets his fabric down on the crowded table, shoving the needle through the inseam so he doesn’t lose it before getting up. He pushes passed people sitting on the floor sewing dresses, not even bothering to say excuse me, only watching carefully where he places his feet so he doesn’t step on a dress. He hurries as fast as he can to the owner, who Gale didn’t even bother learning his name, but the man’s foot just taps faster and faster the longer it takes Gale to rush through the crowd. “This way,” the man says once Gale has arrived by his side. He doesn’t even offer a good morning or afternoon – Gale had no way of knowing what time it is because there isn’t any clocks around – before pushing passed the doors that lead to the stairwell.

The stairwell of made of rusted metal and squeaked every time someone stepped foot on it. Gale tries his best to make his footsteps from sounding so harsh, but it was nearly impossible to do such a thing. His boss walks up the stairs, never once looking back to see if Gale was following him, tapping his cane twice on every step. It wasn’t that the man needed the cane. He was physically fit and almost nearing middle aged. Gale believed that the man just liked the sound of noise he produced and why not add the sharp click of a cane on the ground. Also – although Gale had no proof of this – he could use it as a weapon against workers who didn’t do what they were supposed to. That’s why Gale’s heart pounds now. He fears the man knows he’s sick or is unhappy that Gale only produces 12 pairs of pants every hour instead of more. Although the pay is shit, Gale needs this job.

“Have a seat.” The man says as they enter an office. One wooden stool sits in the middle of the room and velvet couches line the walls. Gale knows without asking that he should not sit on the velvet couches. Velvet is for rich people, not invisible people like himself. He sits down slowly on the stool, testing its durability. When it stays standing he places his full weight on the chair. He doesn’t say anything and neither does his boss. He keeps his eyes downcast and listens to the only clock in the room tick, tick, tickthe seconds away. He holds his breath and counts off the seconds gone that pushes him further behind on his count of 12. If he spends 15 minutes in this office, he’ll have three pairs of pants that need sown and sown well, done in nonexistent time. He’s screwed. Especially since the rule was if you don’t met quota, you don’t get paid for a week. His family had already gone a week without food, they couldn’t go another week. Damn it, he is so screwed.

A knock resonates through the room and Gale whips his head up to look at who it is. His stomach drops than tightens instantly when he sees a man in a white lab coat with a red bag in his hand. A medic. If Gale could run away, he’d do it down. But he can’t.

“Gale, this is Dr. Melbourne, Dr. Melbourne, this is him.” The boss introduces.

“Ah, he’s the one you were talking about.” His boss nods, “Well, son, strip down.”

“What?” Gale squeaks out. His voice doesn’t even sound like his own, it sounds like a long distance voice that could belong to a female, not himself. Definitively not himself.

“Strip down, like naked.” The doctor says, looking amused. The doctor waves Gale’s boss out of the room and gestures for Gale to begin stripping. He closes the door behind him and sets his bag down on the desk. Gale folds his clothes neatly at his feet and waits as Dr. Melbourne examines him and moves his limbs different ways. A fine line of sweat beads form on his forehead again. Dr. Melbourne offers him a handkerchief. Gale accepts it and dabs at his forehead.

“Well,” Dr. Melbourne speaks as he picks up Gale’s raggedly thin clothes and hands them back to him, “You don’t have measles or mumps, but I’m going to have to take your temperature. Please get dressed and sit on the stool.” Gale does as he’s told and sits patiently as Dr. Melbourne goes through his bag. He places a tool Gale has no idea the name of against his chest, over his heart and listens. “Are you nervous, or does your heart always pound this hard.” Gale says nothing, his tongue is too thick in his mouth. Dr. Melbourne pulls back and looks Gale deeply in his eyes. The doctor’s blue eyes remind Gale of ocean water, and Gale’s eyes remind the doctor of the dirty water floating through the Thames River, “That’s a serious question…Gale.” He says as he reads the name off Gale’s report.

“Nerves,” Gale whispers out.

Melbourne nods and marks something on the paper. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Oh, but there is. Gale has no idea why he’s here and what will come of it, but if the doctor finds anything at all, Gale’s done for. He can’t pay any sort of bill, let alone a hospital bill, and he can’t lose his job because he’s already behind in payments on everything.

“Have you been experiencing diarrhea or dehydration?” Gale shakes his head no, but he’s lying. He knows those are symptoms of cholera. “Well, you have a fever and I know you’re lying.”

“I’m fine, sir.” Gale croaks out.

“Oh you wish you were fine!” the doctor says. “If this isn’t treated, Gale, you could infect the whole business, or worse…it could kill you.”

“I’m fine.” Gale says again. He can’t lose his job. He can’t lose his job.

The man jabs a finger into Gale’s abdomen lightly and Gale tries not to wince, but he can’t. It hurts badly. Another symptom: abdominal pain.

“You have cholera.”

“No I don’t.” Gale says, but the doctor only pushes harder against Gale’s stomach. His entire body stiffens and the seconds later a metal trashcan in placed between his knees, seconds before the vomit comes up.

“Yes. You do,” the doctor says, and Gale can’t do anything about it. A fourth symptom: vomiting. Gale continues to puke into the bucket as the doctor leaves. Tears spring to his eyes because he knows exactly what this means…they have to fire him. He sobs into the bucket and vomits every few minutes. He finds he’s been doing this a lot lately…puking. Once he starts, he doesn’t stop for a while.

His boss comes in and places a hand on Gale’s shoulders, mindful not to touch the skin where the large shirt moved off his shoulder. “I’m going to have to let you go, Hawthorne. Best of luck. You can stay as long as you need the trashcan for” Then he leaves. Gale wishes he never had to leave this trashcan.

“Treatment options include –“ But Gale doesn’t let him finish.

“I don’t have money. Can’t you tell?”

“Then I can’t help you if you can’t spare a dime.”

“I’d buy food faster than medical care.”

“Best of luck to you; you’re going to need it.” And then he leaves too. And Gale let’s go and cries and pukes into a trash for an hour. He’s so damn screwed.

Madge’s mother, Victoria’s, booming voice commanded the hallway outside of Madge’s door. The Prime Minister is in for a short visit, something Madge would usually listen in on, but not today. All Madge can focus on is the dirty, awful smell wafting in through the air vents. Madge’s mother may be the Queen of England during what is considered one of England’s greatest eras, but even she can’t get control the way the city smells. It’s horrible and it’s constantly being filtered through every home and business, and the country can’t escape the smell of death and gross, trashy smell.

As the Industrial Age further booms, the Thames’ clean water diminishes to sewage backup. The streets are littered with garbage and sickly homeless people who haven’t had a clean shower in weeks. They smell like the river does, because that’s the source of water big enough for them to wash themselves off in, only they’re washing themselves in contaminated water. Madge’s mother tells her to stay away from the slums because of cholera and she does as much as possible.

Madge wrinkles her nose and tries to block out the smell as she applies makeup onto her neck and chest. The skin colored powder dusts her skin lightly and covers the series of freckles littering her chest. She makes the mistakes of taking a deep breath, instantly regretting it.

A knock clicks harshly into her bedroom and in walks her brother, elegant as ever. He’s wearing a dark blue suit with brown leather shoes and a striped tie. He looks dashing, but he always does. It’s something that Madge as always envied of her brother. He is complete perfection with his chiseled cheekbones and jaw, slender but strong frame, ocean blue eyes, and his porcelain skin. Madge is slender like him, but she appears just small; and her eyes are ordinary blue, and her skin is littered with sparely scattered freckles.

“Walk with me, sister?” he asks in his deep London accent. She nods and gathers her things.

They walk aimlessly towards nowhere, but Madge knows exactly where this “nowhere” will lead. The slums. There’s a girl with glossy black hair and gray eyes that her brother is infatuated with as of recently and every time they go for a “walk” it’s just to see her, even if she doesn’t notice them. Her brother, Daine, insists that the girl notices them, but poor old Daine doesn’t realize it’s just because Royals are walking around the other side of town. It definitely isn’t because the girl is infatuated with her brother. But it isn’t Madge’s job to break his spirit; the universe would do that soon enough.

“There she is!” he whispers loudly. He points excitedly toward her. She glances their way, worry blazing in her eyes, before she returns to the conversation she’s having with a girl a few years younger than her. Madge nods and pushes her brother a little further away from the pair to give the girl space, but she doesn’t look away. Especially when a boy with bright red cheeks and the back of his hand pressed firmly against his forehead stops at the command of the girl’s hand. They share a glance at the Royals before the grow deep into a conversation that the boy seems to want nothing to do with. He tugs lightly against the restraint provided by the girl’s arms.

“Maybe you should go talk to her?” Madge suggests the second the boy disappears behind a building. She doesn’t look at her brother when she says it, but he follows her line of sight.

“Oh, Madgie, do you have a crush on the boy?” he smiles wickedly.

“No!”

“Maybe you should get involved with him, they are quite lovely people once you get to know them.”

“Mom told us to stay away from them, remember? We aren’t even supposed to be here.”

“Go.” He whispers in her ear as he pushes her toward the building the boy disappeared behind. Once Madge’s feet start going they don’t stop until she finds him. He’s farther up the alley, leaning – more like sagging like a wilted flower – against the wall. His breathing is heavy and from his body she can tell he’s distressed.

She lightly touches his tricep and is surprised to find it lined with hard, beautiful muscle. He jumps back, his eyes wide. “I didn’t steal anything, I swear!” Immediately, it springs off his lips.

“I know you didn’t.” she says softly, lifting her own hands to her face. “Are you alright?”

“Am Ialright?” his expression is nothing short of bewilderment. And when she nods, he looks utterly shocked and taken aback. “No,” he says simply and harshly, no elaboration or explanation, but a sharp no. She waits a few moments for him to say something. Most people don’t say no unless they want to continue. His expression hardens like molten lava, “Do you really think I’d tell you?”

“You don’t have too.” She’s trying to be kind, but curiosity burns in her veins. Her mother always told her that was one of her downfalls.

“But you expect me too.”

“You don’t have too,” she says again.

He sags against the wall and leans his head down pitifully. “I’m dead.”

Madge huffs out air, “You don’t look very dead.”

“I might as well be.” He grumbles. He grips his head in that moment, a moment full of pure distress. Despite the dirty ground, Madge kneels beside him.

“Let me help you.”

“You can’t!” he nearly yells. His eyes check both sides of the street again before looking back at her. She notices the boy’s eyes are a wonderful shade of gray and it nearly takes her breath away looking at them.

They are so close together that Madge barely breathes, “Why not?” she asks and she swears she can feel his hot breath spread across her lips.

“It can’t be fixed.”

“Nothing is ever truly broken.”

“No,” he says, “but sometimes it cannot be used again.”

She looks at him then, reallylooks at him. His cheeks are rosy and his gray eyes – despite beautiful – are dull and lifeless. His body sags against the wall and his hands rest uncomfortably against his stomach. It’s like a pregnant woman holding her stomach, but he holds it like it hurts. Then it clicks, he’s sick. He has cholera.

“You are sick.”

“Thanks for stating the obvious.”

“Come with me,” she whispers, her lace gloved hand briefly touches his wrist.

He whips his head around so fast she fears she’ll get whiplash from just watching it. “Trust me or I’ll make it an executive order.”

He follows, even though his mind screams no. His heart…his heart, maybe just a little, says yes.

“Madge! You cannot be serious!” her brother nearly screeches at her in the back room of the kitchen. “You brought him here!”

“Yes! Now will you quiet down a little before the chefs hear you! I cannothave mom finding out!”

Her brother’s eyes bulge out of his head and he gives her the have-you-lost-your-mindlook. “Please!” she nearly begs him, “Just…Just keep it quiet! It’s just for a few days!”

“Madge!” he says again.

“Daine!” she takes his arms in his hands, “You told me to interact with them.”

He shakes his head, “I didn’t mean bring them home with you! What’s next, you going to invite him into your bed?”

She glares so hard at her brother, “Don’t be silly. What do you think I am? A prostitute?” He says nothing and that’s more hurtful than if he just said yes. Tear spring to her eyes and shakes her head. “I can’t believe you, I just cannot believeyou.” She says.

“Madge, you know I didn’t mean it.” He tries to mend his angry notion, “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“If it’s not, don’t think mom won’t know about your black haired beauty within minutes.”

“You’ll be staying here, for the time being. I’m sorry it’s not the best place, but it’s the only place I know the palace staff won’t go.”

If they were going off Gale’s opinion, his room is a palace within the palace. It is sparsely furnished, with only a bed, a small dresser, a washing bucket, and chair. The bed doesn’t even have sheets on it yet. The stone walls emit a cool air that chills his fevered body to the bone. A chill runs up his back. They both pretend they don’t see it.

“I will go get you bedding and clothing and be down as soon as possible.”

It’s silent for a long while. Gale stares at her. Her dress has crystals sown into the silk fabric, and it was clearly sown by a machine, not by worn out hands like Gale’s. She stares at the ground and smoothens out her dress, and he feels like he should say something, but the words won’t reach his tongue.

“Well I should go before mother starts questioning Daine about my whereabouts.”

He nods and watches her walk out. He tries to force any word from his mouth but nothing comes. It isn’t until she’s probably forgotten him that he whispers, “Thank you.”

Madge grips her hair as she sits on her bedroom floor, her dress fanned out around her. What does she have that a boy could plausible wear? And she sure as hell knows Daine won’t let her borrow any of his clothes.

“Think, Madge, think.”

“M’am?” her servant, Primrose, says as she enters the room, “Are you alright? Should I fetch a royal doctor?”

Madge drops her hands. “Oh goodness, no. I’m quite alright. I’m just at a loss of ideas.”

“Anything I can help with, m’am?”

“Unless you can find me a pair of trousers and loose shirt, I don’t believe you can.” she laughs under her breath.

Prim stands there in silence for a moment, studying the frenzied princess. She kneels before the princess. “I could always borrow clothes from my sister’s best friend and bring them to you.”

Madge snaps her head up, “You would do that?”

“Anything for you, your highness.” They stare at each other for a moment. “Are you planning on going out in disguise as a boy?”

“Something like that.” Madge winks. “I can’t involve you too much.”

Gale takes a deep breath. If he can keep the vomit done, it will save him a lot of time and energy. He’s already puked more than he wanted to today and the wash basin is already three-fourths of the way full from just this afternoon. He holds his stomach tightly as sweat rolls off his whole body into the thin mattress.

If he wasn’t in so much pain, he would have left the palace already. He doesn’t know what he was thinking in the first place! He has a familyat home that must be wondering where he is! And he lost out on another week’s pay. How was his family supposed to survive? How were they going to buy food to feed the children? His mother’s seamstress work wasn’t very fruitful right now and they really relied on Gale’s measly paycheck to pay rent and buy a few days rations.

His vision blurs as his stomach rolls again. His heart races in his chest to the point of being painful. He feels like he’s been cast out to sea in the middle of the rainstorm. The waters are so turbulent they roll viciously through the open space, and the rain is so heavy that nothing is visibly, and he’s soaking wet and cold.

He rolls to his side and releases the turbulent waves from his stomach, not even checking to see if he made it in the bucket. His body racks as his dispels the disease from his body. His vision is nearly black, with heavy spots moving before his eyes. He feels like his soul is leaving his body.

His stomach collapses in on itself, nothing left but phlegm and stomach acid to throw up. Every muscle in his body seizes with vigor. His can hear his labored breath heavy in his ears but he can’t feel his body heaving for air. And he feels a weight settle first in his chest, slowing spreading throughout his whole body until it feels like hot stones sitting on him. He eyelids are like iron, dropping shut and so very heavy to open again. The coals burn his skin even more and the paths the sweat beats leave on his skin ignites a firework of pain.

And he still can’t see.

And every moment the blackness consume him even more.

And every second that passes his wishes to see the Princess’ full lips and almond shaped eyes framed with the longest lashes he had ever seen again.

“Stay here,” Madge orders Prim. Madge had changed out of her dress into a simple loose white nightgown while Prim hurried back to the Seam to gather her sister’s friend’s clothes. “I’ll be back. If anyone asks for me, tell them I’m bathing and must not be disturb.”

“Yes, m’am. Would you like help changing?”

“No.”

Madge slips through the nearest service staircase, hidden by secret doors all over the palace. She races down the stairs, her bare feet slapping on the pavement like raindrops on the cobblestone in a rainstorm. She slips through the corridors with ease, her feet remembering every twist and turn from all the times her and Daine played hide-and-seek as children.

One last corner and her hands slam against the door. The wooden door break practically rattles out it’s weak frame, shaking open. She slips in and closes it softly behind her.

“I’m ba–“ she stops short. Hanging half off of the bed in a puddle of his own vomit was the boy. He was mumbling under his breath some nonsense and his pupils, she could see as she approached him, are dilated. The black pupil almost completely covering the gray.

Her knees slam against the stone floor, not even feeling the cold seeping into her bones.

Against her better judgement, her grabs his sweaty face, pulling his delusional eyes toward her.

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” God, why is she even asking him that?

He moans a response.

Her heart beats rapidly in her chest. She can’t move. All she can do is stare into his soulless eyes and cry. Her heart sinking in her chest.

What was she supposed to do now?

She was all alone with a sick boy she didn’t know how to save.

White and gold swims in front of his eyes and a sweet melodic voice sings in his ear. His knows it’s her voice, even though his vision is still blurry. This time his heart beats faster for other reasons than the cholera raging in his body. Her fingers are smooth against his rough skin. They feel like silk.

He can’t hear what she’s saying, but he tries to tell her, but only a moan slips passed his lips. He tries to focus on her face, but his eyes are miles and miles away from where his body lies.

Raindrops touch his skin, soft and slow at first, until it turns into a drizzle. How amazing is it that it rains inside the palace.

It isn’t until one splashes against his lips and he tastes the salt that he realizes sometimes raindrops can be tears falling from someone else’s clouds.

She drags his body back on the bed. His slick skin almost slipping pass her hands several times. She feels like time is an empty thing. It only fills the void when there’s nothing else. It only runs out of sand too quickly when time is the most precious.

Time is indiscriminate.

Time does not care if there is a boy dying in the basement of the palace in the Princess’ arms.

Time does not care if he lives or dies, or whether her heart breaks in two or not.

Time only gives you an unknown amount of seconds to do somethings with.

And Madge’s allotted time to save him is so miniscule she could blink and it would have slipped between her fingers.

She can’t blind. Not now. Not when she risked so much to bring him here, to save him.

She pushes his body against the wall and rushes from the room. She runs into the walls and falls up the stairs in her attempt to make it to anyone, to someone who could help. She knows she can’t say anything, but she doesn’t have a choice. She can’t let him slip through her fingers.

“Prim!” she screams, “Prim!”

Her bedroom door opens before she’s even halfway down the hallway. Prim’s eyes are wide with fear and alarm, her hair tangled like she fell asleep.

“Prim, I need your help!”

Daine’s door open across from Prim. He stumbles out, rubbing his eyes. “What is happening?”

“Come! Come! He’s dying!”

Prim starts, her face slackening in despair, “Who?”

“Oh the sick boy from the slums she decided to bring home.” Daine grumbles as they follow Madge down the hallway.

“He’s not infected with cholera, is he?” Daine shoots her a look, “Oh dear,” she whispers, “Let me grab supplies.”

In and out. His vision wanes on blackness so dark his body shivers in fear.

In and out.

In and out. He can hear his exaggerated breathing shallow in his ears.

In and out.

He feels death approaching. The blackness is starting to take over his body. His skin feels cold, his tongue dry as a bone, his mind dull and void of thought, and the weight of his own bones are becoming too much.

In and out.

“Oh dear,” Dane whispers the second Madge pushes open the door. “Oh dear, god.”

Tears stream down Madge’s face. “Daine…” she whispers, “Daine…how do we save him?”

She watches him stare at the dying boy in the corner of the room. “I don’t know if we can.”

Madge creeps over to the bed and sits on it, gently reaching out for the boy’s hand. Her thumbs rubs softly against his hand. She hopes he can feel her skin against his. If they really cannot save him, she wants him to know he did not pass alone, that he will not pass unknown like so many others who died in alleyways and river beds.

“What is his name? Did you ever find out?” Daine whispers, still hovering on the threshold, his hand covering his mouth.

“Gale,” Prim says as she enters the room. “Oh my god, Gale,” she whales.

She drops the medical supplies and bedding on the ground and rushes over to him. Her hands instantly go to his face, sliding down to his chest where she grips his soaking wet shirt. Her body bows over his. Seconds later, her body racks with sobs.

Madge and Daine look at each other.

“Gale?” Madge whispers, her hand tangling in Prim’s locks.

Prims shifts to lean against Madge. She wipes at her eyes and nose before mustering up the finest of whispers, “I went to get his clothes from my sister tonight. She had said he didn’t come home tonight. She never mentioned that he’s infected,” she sniffles, “What will his family do without him? They won’t survive.”

Madge’s heart sinks in her chest. Here laid a boy that meant his family’s survival. And he was dying.

The world was unfair.

Madge swallowed hard. “What do we do to cure him.”

Prim sobbed harder. “This is no cure. Rarely do they live after the infection sets in.”

“He’s too far gone, isn’t he?” Daine whispers? His skin is so ghostly white, he appears as if he might faint.

“More than likely, yes.”

“No! No!” Everyone looks at Madge, “No, we must try. He cannot die.”

“Madge…” Daine starts.

“Water…” Prim cuts him off, “Cholera rapidly dehydrates the body to the point of shock. Our only change is to rehydrate him as fast as possible. I also stole the antibiotics from the medical ward.”

“Do you think it will work?”

“No,” she sniffles, “But we must try.”

Daine leaves the room to get pails of water and a glass. Prim goes with him to help, which leaves Madge to undress him and change his clothes.

For a lady of her standing, she is slightly scandalized to be removing a boy’s clothes, especially in such a state. What if he does not want her to see his naked body? What if she had impure thoughts upon seeing his body? This was so unladylike.

He won’t live if you don’t, Madge.

So she tenderly went to work at his clothing, starting with his shirt. She slowly undoes the threading at the time to make neck wider and easier to pull over his head. Next she tugs at the bottom of the shirt, near his start of his pants, to untuck it from his trousers. Slowly, his skin begins to appear. His skin is darker than hers, tan as far as tan goes in London’s cloudy atmosphere. Oh goodness, he has faint tan lines!

She could only imagine him in his backyard, wearing nothing from a skimpy undershirt. She could only imagine his looking up to the sun and wiping his brow as his skin soaked up the rays from the sunshine.

She gulps and eases the shirt over his head, using one arm to hug his body to her chest so his shoulders and head wouldn’t get caught around the shirt. His head lolled back against her wrist, and she watches as his eyelashes brush against his cheekbones.

Next she undoes his shoes, throwing them careless onto the floor. She’s surprised to find that he does adorn socks. And next his trousers. Her face heats as her fingers flick open the button. She moves quickly to his ankles, trying to tug them off as far away from his hips as possible, but it’s all in vain. She has to roll his trousers down over his hips and around his butt before she can easily tug them off.

She stops short of pulling off his underwear. The white cotton is almost clear with sweat. Madge looks over to the pile of clothing Prim gave her earlier, on top laid a pair of underwear.

She takes a deep breath, clothes her eyes and tugs them off, she stares at his ankles as she rolls the new ones on. She lets out the breath she held and looks at the door. Oh how unladylike that just was. A Princess undressing a semiconscious man.

He groans and she nearly jumps from her spot on the bed.

Prim and Daine comes back with pails of water moments later and slowly but surely they pour water into his mouth. At first he throws up everything for hours and Madge’s heart sinks in her chest. Eventually, he begins to hold it down, and Madge’s finally starts slowing.

It seems like the solid black covering his eyes slowly turns to a dusting of gray spots blinding him. He feels the thin mattress under his body again and the coldness of the room seeping into his warm body. And he can hear the faint voices of three different whispers.

He opens his eyes to a dim, candle lit room. It takes a moment for his eyes to settle and when they do they land on the Princess. Her hand lays on his bare chest, but she’s not looking at him. He grunts as he moves to sit up and she startles, a deep rose blush painting her cheeks.

“Oh goodness, I’m so sorry.” She whispers.

Gale doesn’t say anything. He just stares at her. Her blonde waves are flat against her face, and her dull blue eyes look even duller with exhaustion. But what surprises him the most is her attire. She wears a simple white shirt and a pair of dark brown trousers with something off about them.

She looks simple and poor in her outfit. It is built for someone like him, not someone as important as her. Yet, she wears the clothing like she shouldn’t be in anythingbut that.

She sits down hurriedly when he reaches for his face. Her fingertips absentmindedly touching his cheeks, featherlight. Her blue eyes bore into his. “Are you alright? Are you feeling any better?”

He’s too afraid to speak in fear that she’ll remove her hands from his face. His skin tingles gloriously underneath her light touch. Eventually, he nods.

Her shoulders release their tension in relief and her hands drop to his collarbones. “I didn’t think you would make it,” she whispers.

She moves her hands to her lap, her fingers running over each other. He can feel her gaze on him, but he keeps his on her hands. She had long pianist hands that small marks like papercuts littering them. She wore a small silver ring in the shape of a star on her middle finger. His eyes trail up her arm, following the stitches in the trousers as he went.

That’s when he spots it. The double stitch on every fourth stitch.

“I made those pants.” He looks up at her. Her nose wrinkles slightly as her hands spread along the stitching.

“What?” she whispers.

He grabs her hand and traces her fingers along the stitching, pausing at every fourth stitch.

“The stitching is mine. The fourth stitch identified me. It’s how they knew my count at the end of the day.”

How did his pants end up in the royal household?

“I guess you were just supposed to be a part of my story, stitched together by the hand of fate.”

He looks up, his hand still in hers. He feels her intertwine their hands together.

“Maybe so,” he whispers, their faces so close together that their noses almost touch.

And there, in the basement of Buckingham Palace, two fates intertwine once and for all.

A/N: FFN, Gadge: the Mini Stories, Ch31: Stitch of by Hand

Feel free to jump over to FFN and drop a comment or leave a reply here!

#gadge #hunger games #fanfiction #stitched by hand #chapter 31 #gadge: the mini stories #writing #thg #gale hawthorne #madge undersee #I'm back bitches!

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newgeht · 5 years

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Binding Ink

Chapter 5 Summary: Everyone had a name forever embellished on their wrist. This was the name of their mortal enemy… Or at least it was supposed to be. Characters: Minerva Orlando, Lucy Heartifilia, Gray Fullbuster, Erza Scarlet, Sting Eucliffe, Rogue Cheney, Yukino Aguria, Natsu Dragneel, Cana Alberona, Freed Justine, Levy McGarden, Jude Heatifilia, Lisanna Strauss. Pairing: Minlu, NaYu, Jerza, Stingue, Frecana Words: 5590 Rating: T AO3 | FFNet 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

“Gray?”

He stood in the clothes he wore yesterday with the small addition of cloth bandages. Gray’s face held small scratches, the inflamed red making his eyes darker than normal. His smile shredded with heroism but other than that he was completely unreadable and completely out of place in her sunny-filled home. That dark hair an infringement on the warm decor.

Lucy wanted to slam the door in his face but smiled instead. It was a bittersweet curl of her lips, the ice mage’s eyes filled with hope. “Morning, Lucy. You sleep…” He paused his eyes a pool of worry as they looked over her but the look should have been reciprocated on her own face. Gray obviously noticed how she was dressed, taking in her outfit. “You’re not planning on leaving so soon, are you? Jude made us breakfast.”

She pushed past him, unable to think coherently in his presence. Since when did her father make breakfast? And when did they refer to one another on a first name basis? Not only that, but why the hell did he let Gray stay? He had always hated mages, but for some reason he had taken a liking to Gray. Jude choose the ice-maker mage out of her entire group of friends. But at a fault, Lucy was always too nice. “I guess I can stay for breakfast. Minerva never gave me a time.”

“Minerva?” Gray questioned bitterly. He walked past her, opening the door to the kitchen, a gentleman when he really wanted to be.

Oops, Lucy thought. The smell of eggs and burned bacon filling her nose. She wrinkled her nose, the bacon not appealing to her senses one bit. “Yeah, she wants to take me somewhere. Is there a problem?” She stated curtly, taking a seat at the breakfast bar. She kept her back to him, daring Gray to answer her.

Her father stood at the oven, lost in his own world for now. He never was a good cook, mostly because he hated the hobby. Which is why she was so surprised he was taking up the reigns of making breakfast.

He sat beside her, shaking his head hesitantly. “I thought we could go out with Natsu and Yukino… But since you have plans, that won’t work.”

Lucy didn’t look at him. If she did, she would fall into Gray’s trap like she always did. It was how this predicament first started but there was no way she was going on a double date.They weren’t dating. Not even close to it. But she did miss hanging out with Natsu and she hadn’t seen Yukino in a while. “I can bring Minerva with us and we can all hang out together.”

Now she could hang out with all of her best friends at one time. “I can also call Erza to see if she’s available. She’s been very busy with guild business as of late. And I also heard that she’s seeing someone.” Keeping the conversation as casual as possible, Lucy winked at Gray.

“I’ve heard about it too,” he chuckled. “I’ve also heard that he’s a wizard saint.”

Jude cleared his throat and presented them with two plates. They were filled with broken sunny-side-up eggs, almost black pieces of bacon, and triangular slices of burnt toast. “Morning kids.”

“Morning,” Lucy chirped happily, already stuffing her face with the eggs. They weren’t seasoned at all. “Thanks for the breakfast, dad.”

He gave her a cross look and she began to eat in a more civilized manner. Jude looked at her with discontent, turning to fix his own plate. His deep tone holding a gust of austere. “You worried me last night, Lucy.”

She kept her eyes down, Gray giving her an awkward side glance. Lucy knew he didn’t really care, he was making plans to give her away. “I just went out with friends, and-”

“But you don’t come home unconscious and in the arms of you boyfriend.” Jude was frigid, his true personality becoming unleashed -a cold-hearted businessman.

Gray and Lucy stilled at the mention of being in a relationship. “But he isn’t-”

“She isn’t-”

Their eyes met as Jude turned around. “What is it? You know better than to stumble over you words, Lucy.” The jolly facade replaced with sternness and rigidity.

“Sir, she isn’t my girlfriend.” Gray stated, his face tense as he looked at her father.

Jude gave him a cold glare, uninterested in his comment. “Nonsense, you two have been together since the beginning of your second year.” His face darkened, facing Lucy once again. “I can see everything that goes on in this house, boy.”

Lucy’s eyes met Gray’s once again, he knew about everything between them. Deep down she felt regret clutching at her, making its way up from the tips of her toes and seeping into her heart. “Don’t yell at him. I’m the one you’re mad at.” Lucy gained her father’s attention back, not prepared for his outburst.

“I’m afraid it does. Even if you claim you’re not dating, it doesn’t matter either way. It’ll end as soon as you graduate.” She shook her head, shame and misery filling her. Lucy looked down as tears threatened to spill from her eyes, she knew exactly what he was alluding to. He already found someone for her to get engaged to.

Out of the corner of her eye, Gray shifted. It was obvious he didn’t know what to do but he was managing. “Look, Lucy hasn’t done anything wrong. She was just out with friends last night, don’t yell at her for that.”

And in one quick second, Jude’s personality switched. Speaking to her with a soreness, “I’m dearly sorry, Lucy. But it’s the way things have to be.” Gently he pat her head and began to eat his own dish. “I’ll leave the two of you to clean up this mess, I have to get to work. Meet me in my office when you get home, Lucy.”

She didn’t acknowledge him, only listened as he left. His expensive leather shoes clicking against the hardwood floor, the door opening without a breath and shut with a voracious belt as he left. She gripped her firsts, sucking in the tears as best as she could.

Gray’s hand came down on her back, rubbing it lightly. She could tell that he was scared to touch her. His fingers barely ghosted over her shirt. “Let’s just go Gray. You still need to get ready.”

She stood up and picked her plate of food up, all appetite lost. Gray followed her into the kitchen, beginning to wash his plate as Lucy scrapped her food into the trash.

“Is he usually that much of an ass?” Gray took Lucy’s plate, dipping it into the suds.

“Ehhhh…” Lucy debated on what to say, her father took a drastic change after her mother passed. “He’s just stressed right now and worried about me is all. Being a big tycoon and raising a child isn’t easy.”

He moved the dishes to the drying rack, shaking his hands. Drops of water flew from them as he shook, drying the rest by wiping his hands on his pants. “You can talk to me, Lucy.”

Lucy ignored him, grabbing her car keys off the counter. “Where are we going?”

“I don’t know, Natsu said to meet at his place.” Gray frowned when she picked her keys up. “I can take us, you know.”

“I’m not coming with you to the Fairy Tail dorms, Gray. I’ll meet you there. Now let’s go.” She was eager, her home gradually becoming a living nightmare with each passing day. The tension between her and Jude ready to snap at any moment. Lucy wasn’t ready to come home tonight, afraid of what her father might say. Afraid to face the reality she was raised in.

They exited her home, each going their separate ways. As Gray pulled out of the driveway, Lucy started the ignition, focused on the small screen in her hands. She had to tell Minerva something before she started to drive, otherwise she would forget completely. At her thumbs was the beginning of a message, but she kept deleting and fumbling with the words. She frowned when she finally sent the message to Minerva, worried that it wasn’t suitable enough.

Lucy: I’m going over to hang out with some friends, but I would still love to see you today! It’s going to be tons of fun, here’s the address…

Lucy overloaded the message with smiley-face and heart emojis, but she didn’t care. She hoped that Minerva would make it down to Natsu’s house, there was some things she needed to discuss with her. Backing out of the garage, her yellow Volkswagen Beetle raced and buzzed down Strawberry Street.

Lucy was absolutely pissed off at this point. The road to Natsu’s home was treacherous. The dirt rode to his humble abode held unsuspecting traps! It was full of rusty nails and potholes, her poor car wasn’t made for this type of terrain. She was such an idiot for even attempting to drive on it, and now her yellow bug had suffered.

The back left wheel had two nails stuck in the tire. They had punctured the tire and completely ripped it apart, leaving the wheel sad and deflated. Lucy could only imagine how much more trouble she would be in if someone had to tow the damned thing.

Shaking her head, she stood up from the car’s wheel and immediately pulled out her phone. Looking down she had no idea who to call, but Minerva’s name had popped up.

Minerva: Omw

The message was sent right after Lucy left the house and she smiled at the thought of seeing the enticing woman once again. She leaned on the back of her car, not sure of what to say in response but there was no need.

Coming around the bend was Sabertooth’s very own vibrant Volkswagen van. The car was bouncing as it came toward her, the boisterous music rocking the vehicle. Lucy waved at it in desperation, hoping that whoever was in there would stop.

It was like they had read her mind, the vehicle of rowdy students stopping. The door was violently thrown to the side and Lucy was pulled in by a pair of hazel eyes.

“Hop in, Blondie. We’ll fix your little buggie later, right now we have a party to crash!” Sting happily whopped in the driver’s seat and took off.

Lucy squeaked as the door wasn’t even closed, a pair of warm arms wrapping around her. Rufus stood in and pulled it fully shut as those same arms buckled Lucy in. “Nice to see you again, Lucy.”

Minerva’s voice sent a small jolt through her, hooked on the woman’s natural charms. Looking at her wistfully, Lucy spoke excitedly. “I’m sorry for the mess I caused last night, I didn’t mean-”

A silken finger was placed at Lucy’s lips, silencing her. “Worry not, Lucy. You did well and that’s all that matters, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but… Flare was really…”

The finger was back at her mouth and Lucy blushed. “You beat her by a long shot. That crazy bitch just decided to cheat.” Minerva was clearly pleased with Lucy. Once she mentioned Flare, the lines in her face tightened. Although Flare

“Yeah, don’t ya worry one bit, Blondie. Everything has been taken care of.” Sting turned to wink at Lucy, pulling up to Natsu’s small cabin home. Lucy knew something else had happened, but she wasn’t going to question it right now. There was no point in bringing drama to a friendly get together.

The door to the car was thrown open once again, startling Lucy. But wait… Sabertooth was never mentioned when the plans were made. “Hey Minerva… Did you invite these guys?”

In the dark car, she couldn’t really see Minerva but the day shed a small light on her. Lucy gasped when she saw the small cut on her lip. Surprised to see the bandages that were wound around her neck and the bruises that littered her arms. All she could utter made Minerva’s face go blank.

“What happened?” The boys from Sabertooth, stopping their chattering to look at the two of them. They backed off, afraid of what Minerva was going to say.

The scowl that formed on those busted lips made Lucy cringe. “I did some training with my father early this morning. It’s not as bad as it looks, I’m fine.”

The boys made their way to the front door, leaving them behind. Lucy stared at Minerva, not sure if it would be wise to push it. She decided not to and smiled, holding her hand out to Minerva. She walked past Lucy, leaving her hand empty.

Lucy’s first question was ignored but she trusted that Sabertooth wouldn’t mess anything up; most likely, her own gang would ruin this sooner than them. After all, the nature of her friends was a big ball of randomness accompanied with destructiveness.

Natsu’s house was small and quaint on the outside, just a cute log cabin. But once you passed the threshold, it completely different. There was expensive hardwood floors (usually covered with clothes), the nicest furniture sets, and the newest wizarding technology! On his regular budget, he couldn’t afford this -no one could. But his father, Igneel, left it to Natsu in his will. Once Natsu turned 18, he moved right in and had been living here for the past couple months.

The moment she put her foot inside, Natsu came barreling toward her. “Lucy! I told everyone that you would show, my best friend could never let me down. But that popsicle told me you wouldn’t be coming! But now you’re here, how dare that fucker lie to me.” He pulled her in for a back-creaking hug, lifting her up off the ground. “We were all so worried about you yesterday!”

“We?” Lucy stangled out, Natsu soon relieving her of his hold.

“Yeah, Luce.” Stepping to the side, he revealed much of their class. Levy, Cana, Freed, Wendy… Everyone who hadn’t graduated yet was here. Lucy smiled at them, walking further into the room. “You didn’t pick up your phone at all.”

Cana sauntered over to them, wrapping her arms around their necks. She pulled them close together, alcohol on her breath. “The betting pools were in your favor Lucy. You’re alive!”

“You guys bet on whether or not I was alive!” Lucy exclaimed, shrugging the card mage off.

“Well, naturally,” Cana quipped. She took a sip from her canteen, offering it to her. “But the good thing was that no one thought you were dead.”

Lucy ignored her offer, still annoyed. “That’s beside the point.”

Cana chuckled heartily, walking back to her previous place -Freed’s lap. Glancing around the room, there was two sides, Sabertooth and Fairy Tail. It was split almost down the middle, Natsu and Yukino the only outliers. Natsu had settled back into her side, pulling the celestial mage in despite her protests. Her face shone a bright red and Lucy could only gush at how cute they were together.

There were various snacks set on the coffee table, most barely touched. Lucy picked up a pretzel stick and munched on it, contemplating on what to do with her friends. If the tigers and fairies weren’t going to associate with one another, then she would make them. A small lightbulb appearing above her head, a small thought coming to mind.

“Hey Cana, do you have any non-drinking games?” Lucy inquired, grabbing some more of the breaded sticks.

Cana pulled herself away from Freed, that small canteen still in her hand. Her purple eyes flashed with playfulness, her lips pulled into a small grin. “There’s spin-the-bottle.”

Lucy shook her head, no way, almost everyone here was in a relationship. “Something else, you cheeky devil.”

“I think truth or dare should work,” a cool voice interjected. Gray walked in through the door, holding a couple boxes of pizza.

Most of Fairy Tail agreed but a head of white hair shook profusely. “I-I can’t play that game… It’s too…”

Natsu pulled Yukino into his side, reassuring her as he rubbed her arm. “Don’t worry, Yuki. The game won’t be that bad.”

Minerva chuckled and she leaned on the fireplace. “You fairies always make a big mess of everything. I can’t imagine all the possible ways you guys can ruin a simple game of truth-or-dare.” A couple glares were sent toward the dark haired girl but Lucy knew she wouldn’t be phased.

“Maybe we could try never have I ever…” Yukino suggested faintly, looking down at her lap. Her cheeks were seared red as Natsu whispered something into her ear. Her friend was always so bashful and shy, but she was proud of Yukino speaking up in such a large crowd. Natsu was really rubbing off on her fellow celestial mage.

“I love that idea, Yukino,” Lucy beamed. “Anyone object to this?” Her mocha eyes searched around the room, not one person abstaining to the game’s recommendation.

Except a certain blond from Sabertooth. “Wait, how the hell do we even play this game?” Beside him, Rogue facepalmed as Sting sat back in the love seat.

“It’s simple…” Rogue muttered, shaking his head at Sting’s idiocy. This small comment making the room chuckle. To Lucy, the two were like night and day -absolutely perfect for each other. “Depending on what we decide, you hold a certain amount of fingers up. And by turn, one person will start with the phrase ‘never have I ever’ and proceed to say something random. If you have done it, you put a finger down. Whoever is left with the most fingers wins.”

Sting nodded slowly, his face piquing with foolishness. “So whoever wins is the loser?”

This caused everyone to laugh. Lucy caught Minerva’s small and delicate giggle through the boisterous guffaws of Fairy Tail and she swooned at how melodic it was. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t pull her attention away from the enigmatic teenager.

Lucy clasped her hands together, surveying the group. “I think we should just do seven fingers. It’s not too little and not too much, right?”

“We should just do ten, Luce! I wanna go all out for this!” Natsu’s eyes were lit with the force of competition. The blonde couldn’t help but shake her head at his vying tendencies.

A couple other agreed with Natsu, especially Sting. Sabertooth’s Class president held up both of his hands, “If we do ten, we’ll have more fun!”

This caused Rogue to flick his partner’s head. “Don’t be so ridiculous, we always have the option for one more round.”

Sting’s mouth formed in the shape of an ‘o’, standing down from his argument. “I think seven it is then, Blondie.”

“You’re a blond too, Sting.” Rufus muttered, his forefingers rubbing the bridge of his nose. He looked miserable standing at the fireplace with Minerva. Lucy supposed that if he really hated the fairies, he wouldn’t be here. She knew that’s why their buff mascot, Orga, hadn’t shown. The guy only tolerated them at the beach.

“We should probably grab some food first. I don’t want the pizza to get all soggy and cold.” Gray had propped open the boxes of pizza on the kitchen counter, helping himself.

This was another consensus amongst the group, everyone crowding around the granite kitchen countertop. Everyone in modesty grabbed what they knew they could stomach, but Natsu and Sting grabbed entire boxes for themselves.

Even with his level-temper, Gray could always find a way to banter with Natsu. “Aye fire fuck, you know how much one of these pizzas cost?”

“Don’t nag on me. You’re the one who brought them to share, ice princess.” Natsu opened his box and shoved one whole slice into his mouth, chewing with his mouth open. He did it to spite Gray, the ice mage melting from the hot blood running in his veins.

His shirt was thrown from his body as he stalked over to Natsu, the door opening. “I thought you two promised no more fighting when I left.” Everyone’s favorite red head, stood with great confidence as she stood in the doorway; a blue haired man behind her.

Lucy squeaked when she saw the woman, “Erza!” The blonde practically tackled her, embracing the woman that was two years her senior. She had graduated from Fairy Tail as valedictorian, also receiving the highest honors from the magic council. Now she was working as an S-Class mage in the guild, Lucy had really missed her so much.

Gray and Natsu squealed in fear, embracing one another as the best of friends. “We didn’t think you would come, Erza.” Natsu grasped Gray’s hand in an awkward manner, shaking it as he spoke to her.

“Just as you thought I wouldn’t come,” Lucy drawled.

They were certainly surprised by her arrival, putting their best effort in to make it look like they weren’t about to brawl. Erza merely glared at them, glancing around the rest of the room. Her brown eyes stopped on Minerva, her stare narrowing. “Minerva.”

Minerva was still standing by the fireplace, proclaiming that she wasn’t hungry. She held a cup of water to her mouth, the tiniest amount of hatred sparking in her eyes, “Erza. It’s nice to see you once again.”

Everyone was frozen at the two’s interaction, waiting for the girl’s claws to come out. But Erza nodded at the tiger, clearing her throat as she stood to the side. “Sorry, for being so rude but I have brought a guest.”

A soft smile was set on the blue-haired man’s face, a large ancient-looking red tattoo set over his eye. He looked oddly familiar to Lucy, but she couldn’t place her finger on it. “It’s nice to finally meet you guys, Erza has many great things to say about you all.” At this, a small blush appeared on her face. “I’m Jellal-Siegrain.”

And Lucy’s eyes were met with stars, he sat on the magic council! Everyone else began to murmur good and bad things, not sure of how to receive him. Fairy Tail was never on the council’s good list, more like their hit list. Erza gave a small look to Lucy, telling her they would talk about it later.

To settle the group’s excitement, Cana began to speak. “We were just about to play a game, of Never Have I Ever. You two have to join us.” She winked as she looked at the two of them, sidling up to Freed’s side.

Jellal glanced at Erza sheepishly, his eyes full of doubt. The red head grabbed the blue-haired saint by the hand, both of their faces blossoming with pink. Fairy Tail bust into a melodic discord, sending good regards to Erza and Jellal. Lucy really was happy for her, Erza deserved to be as happy as possible. (Even if she was a tad bit jealous of the celebrity she sported on her arm.) Erza sat with Jellal on the floor by the coffee table, their hand holding about as elementary as it could get. She thought it was cute how bashful the were being about their relationship.

“Who's up first?” Erza inquired. Aside from Minerva and Rufus, everyone held up their seven fingers.

And as luck would have it, Natsu thrust his hand up into the air, startling his girlfriend. “I wanna do it! I gotta good one.”

Lucy gave him a thumbs up and his green eyes were fixed on Gray. “Never have I used ice magic!”

Gray grit his teeth, raising his fist at Natsu. “You can't just target people like that, tabasco breath.”

“Uhm…” Levy breathed out, only holding six fingers up. “Technically, I've used ice magic before.”

The ice-maker mage in defeat curled up one his fingers. “Have it your way then.”

Natsu looked to the side of him, poking Yukino. Her brown eyes widened as she was put on the spot, fumbling over her words. “Ah… Uhm… Never have I ever played strip poker.”

Lucy as surprised to see so many people put their fingers down, even Freed. Natsu teased Yukino, nuzzling his nose into her white head of hair. “We should play it sometime then, babe.”

Already frazzled, Yukino shook her head. “Don't taint our innocent Yuki, Natsu.” Minerva chided in her own demented way.

Natsu leaned down, Yukino’s face glowing pink. Minerva cleared her throat, her gaze sending daggers at fire slayer. He chuckled, completely unphased by the tiger. “It’s your turn, Miss Pouty Face.”

It was evident that Minerva didn’t approve of the nickname. She let Natsu off the hook, taking her turn. “I have never driven a car.”

Everyone put down a finger, Minerva smirking victoriously. Gray couldn’t hold his tongue, “How have you never driven a car? Doesn’t your dad own a car company?”

Sabertooth looked uneasy, Minerva shutting him down. “I only have a motorcycle license. I never took too kindly to automobiles, only tolerated. Bikes are more of my thing.”

The unease of the tigers vanished, almost seeming surprised by Minerva’s answer. Lucy was sure she was the only one who noticed. But Sting chimed in right after her, “I’m the lady’s chauffeur. There’s no reason for her to drive anyways.”

Some chuckled at his answer. Apparently his Volkswagen minivan was today’s new limousine. But the tension of the room settled, Rufus ready with his own statement. “Never have I ever… Failed an exam.”

Lucy groaned, admitting defeat. Everyone but the blond, Levy and Freed put their fingers down. She was now left with five fingers, though she was lucky. Only one was down to four, Levy.

“You’re such’a putz, Rufus. You should have done something more fun like, I have never been caught having sex.” Sting’s laugh was flamboyant, hunching over as he saw the couple across from him lose again.

Lucy blushed as the memory of Natsu and Yukino crossed her mind. She had been very unlucky that day. The two were also a maddening red, Cana choosing to mock them. “Damn, I guess Yukino might be less of an angel than we thought.”

“I-It wasn’t like that-” Yukino tried to explain herself, but failed.

“Shhh… It’s ok, Yuki.” Lucy cood, “Everybody has sex.”

Her brown eyes were pleading, the rest of Yukino’s classmates smirking. “Just like how everybody poops,” Sting so graciously included.

Rogue rolled his eyes, elbowing his boyfriend. “You have the humor of a toddler.” Sting simply nodded, nudging the unruly slayer. “Right, it’s my turn. Never have I ever,” he glanced around the room, making sure to make the rest worth his while, “found the person behind the ink.”

Though Rogue’s was ominous and a bit metaphorical, Lucy understood. Only a few putting their fingers down, along with her. Some looked at Rogue with confusion, including his boyfriend.

“What d’ya mean?” Sting eyed him, the question flying completely over his head.

Jellal interrupted, “He means have you found the mage you’re supposed to fight to the death with. He just decided to put it in a more eloquent statement.”

The blond immediately put a finger down, flashing a look toward Gray. Lucy noticed the brooding ice mage had put a finger down, leaving him with three fingers. She tried not to think much of it, very uninterested in speaking to him at the moment. She knew the grudge wouldn’t last for long anyways, Gray was one of her best friends.

The attention of the room was brought toward Jellal as the council member sighed, his lacrima com blaring. He kissed Erza’s cheek and stood, “It was nice to meet you all. Council duties call, as always.”

Erza blushed, waving by to him with the rest of the group. The moment the door closed behind him, Fairy Tail gushed. Cat calling and teasing the scarlet haired mage about the “hunk of a man” she brought in, even Sting joined in on it.

She became a flustered mess, unable to answer the questions directed toward her. In order to get everyone’s attention, she blurted out the next round. “Never have I ever gotten a tattoo.”

There was complete silence, the realization dawning on everyone. “Uhm… Erza.” Lisanna was certainly brave to speak up. “We all have the tattoo of our guild emblem.”

The room was filled with cacophonous and bright laughter, the scarlet haired mage holding her head down in shame. But above the rambunctiousness, Lucy could hear the light chiming of Minerva’s own laugh. It was very quiet, a spring’s breeze. And she was completely hooked on it. But as soon as Minerva’s laughter rang, it subsided along with everyone else’s.

Lucy grinned, ready for her turn. “I have never ran a red light.”

Minerva shot the blonde a look of appraisal as numerous fingers were put down, including her own. Lucy shined an innocent smile toward the tigress, proud of knocking some numbers down.

“Go on, Levy,” Lucy said.

The petite girl was alight, her mouth quirking to the side. “I would like to but I have never gone skinny dipping.”

All the tigers put a finger down, followed by Cana, Freed and Erza. This surprised Lucy, the red head paying no mind to her inquisitive stare.

As the rounds continued, the fingers dwindled. Levy was out first followed by Natsu (he blamed it on Gray). And now Lucy was left as the last one standing next to Cana and Gray. Cana's presence baffled the blonde, she thought the drunkard had done so much more but apparently all three of them were lacking when it came to a social life.

Lucy had experienced so much heartache but not much when it came to life experiences apparently. She gave Cana a devilish yet innocent smile, wiggling her single finger at the brunette. “Never have I ever had a fruit cocktail before.”

Neither of her two opponents put a finger down and Lucy pouted. Cana shook her silver canteen at Lucy, snickering. “I only drink hard liquor, Lucy. None of that girly shit for me. And Gray wouldn't dare touch something like that, it would ruin his masculinity.”

“At least I'm not poisoning myself with it. Shouldn't your liver be dead by now?” She swore that Gray's eyes rolled into the back of his head.

“If only life was so nice.” Cana erupted with laughter, slapping her hand down on her knee. She composed herself in quickly, gazing at Lucy with the same impish face she had previously. With the next round being her turn, the brunette didn’t hesitate, “Never have I ever had sex before.”

Everyone gasped as they saw their “innocent”, blonde friend finally admit defeat. Lucy and Gray didn't bother to look at one another as they put their fingers down. Erza was the most shocked out of the bunch, staggering to her feet. “Who took your chastity?!” With vigor, she shook Lucy's shoulders, those brown eyes boring into her own.

“Back off, will you? Everyone has their own personal life that doesn't involve you, Titania.” With much vehement, Minerva spat the woman's nickname out, challenging the red head. She looked past the requip mage and directly at Lucy, shooting her a sympathetic glance. Lucy could feel her cheeks rise with heat.

Sting and Natsu were completely out of place, searching for something that he could do to stop this cat fight. Lucy expected that the two had the maturity to keep their cool but that was not the current case. Natsu tugged on Erza's arm in an effort to calm her down but her magical aura flared. The red a clear warning sign for him to back off.

“This conversation has nothing to do with the likes of you.” Erza's attention was now focused on her rival, Minerva.

Minerva's aura easily surrounded her, a dark iridescent purple coming off her body. “It involves everyone when you're standing in the middle of the room.” She replied with ease, confidence exuding from her.

Erza sighed and her aura dissipated followed by Minerva's. It seemed like Minerva was only hostile when others challenged her, sinking her teeth in when they made a mistake.

“Lucy and I will go somewhere else then.” Erza acted as if her word was law, pulling her away.

But Lucy shook her head, yanking her arm from the steely grip. “Let’s not make a scene of this, Erza. I will explain everything to you,” her confidence dwindling as Lucy spoke, “later. Can’t we enjoy the party just for now?”

She felt that Erza already knew, her gaze turning ice cold. This was focused on Lucy and then to Gray, almost daring them to speak out of turn. But in that same moment, the look was gone. It was replaced by a small smile and Erza’s voice boomed with content. “We can. I didn’t mean to make a big fuss. You know how I feel about those type of things.”

Lucy simply nodded, taking a small glance over to Minerva. She was practically begging for an out, those hazel eyes filled with understanding. The Sabertooth student huffed, stepping outside. The sliding glass door closed silently, Natsu’s cream curtains hiding any view of the picturesque forest. No one questioned the territory mage’s antics, it just looked like she was heading outside to cool down. But Lucy felt like Minerva wanted her to follow, but she needed the perfect opening.

Especially with Erza and Gray breathing down her neck.

#minlu #minerva x lucy #minerva orlando #lucy heartifilia #binding ink #my fanfiction #fanfiction #w/w #oml i can't believe i almost forgot to post this

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jrubalcaba · 7 years

Text

Why Wait? A Bucky x Reader oneshot

Why Wait? - A Bucky x Reader oneshot author: jrubalcaba featuring: Female Reader x Bucky Barnes word count: 1898 words rating: Explicit warnings: Smut A/N: This was inspired by this look from TIFF 2017

“I'm telling you, men get exponentially sexier when they ride a motorcycle,” I argued. Nat, Wanda, and Pepper all shook their heads at me.

“I have to agree with her,” Maria cut in. “Seeing Steve ride his bike makes me want to ride him, if you know what I mean,” she snickered, earning eyerolls from the girls and a high five from me.

“See? Maria gets it,” I boasted.

“I happen to find Tony incredibly attractive, and he doesn't ride a bike,” Pepper pouted. It my turn to roll my eyes.

“Pepper, all that man has to do is breathe and you'd still find him attractive,” I snorted as the others giggled. Just then, Sam, Scott and Bucky walked into the common room.

“Ladies, how are we doing this evening? Any good gossip we can help spread?” Sam asked, waggling his eyebrows. We all laughed before Nat answered him.

“No, no new gossip. We're just discussing the level of a man's sexiness in relation to him riding a motorcycle or not.” The three men all shared a disgusted looked.

“Yeah well, would you look at that? We've gotta go,” Scott pointed out. We giggled again as the guys made a beeline for the elevator as we turned back to the conversation.

“We may not agree on the motorcycle thing, but I think we can all agree that a man wearing all black and/or a leather jacket is sexy as hell,” I countered. We all shared a look before sighing.

“Yeah.”

We clinked our glasses together in agreement before moving onto other topics, the booze becoming more scarce as the night went on.

Holy hangover Batman. I don't remember going to my room, but I must have, because there was a glass of water and some Advil on my nightstand. Drunk Me could be so thoughtful. I grabbed the pills and took a big swig before spitting it all out. Drunk Me was not that thoughtful, because the glass was full of vodka. Or maybe it was Romanoff messing with me. I'll have to ask.

I shuffled into the bathroom to get a drink from the tap so I could finally take the meds. I jumped in the shower and got dressed, before throwing on some shades and heading to the kitchen. Wanda and Nat were both sitting at the breakfast bar, looking as shitty as I felt and sporting matching sunglasses.

“You know, for two women who grew up in Russia/Eastern Europe, you can't handle your liquor, can you?” I teased, grabbing the eggs and bacon from the fridge to start cooking. That earned me two flipped birds and the word ‘bitch’ muttered under Wanda’s breath. “Speaking of Russia and booze, Nat, did you leave me a glass of vodka to wake up to as a joke?” The redhead shook her head.

“No. I'm evil, but even that's too sadistic for me. I do recall you taking the full glass with you to bed, though.” So I was the mastermind behind it. Awesome.

“Good to know. Do you remember when I went to bed?” I asked. I've always been able to handle my liquor, but it would play keep away with my memory of that night.

“Not sure what time, but I know Barnes helped you to your room,” Wanda answered, grabbing a slice of bacon and nibbling on it.

“What-SHIT!” I cried as I burnt my hand on the frying pan. I turned the faucet on, sighing in relief as cold water flowed over the burn. The girls winced at my shout, checking to see I was ok before putting their heads down on the bar. “Bucky helped me to my room?” I squeaked, earning a groan from them.

“Will you chill out?” Nat grumbled. “Yes he helped you. The guys came back as you were trying to walk down the hall. Barnes saw how trashed you were and insisted on tucking you in bed.” She smiled up at me. “That food smells amazing. Thanks.” I turned back to the pan as I heard the elevator ding, signaling someone's arrival.

“Well, hopefully he didn't lose respect for me after seeing me like that,” I replied over my shoulder. I turned and went to slide more bacon on their plates when I caught sight of Bucky, who was standing behind them.

Holy. Shit.

Sweet. Baby. Jesus.

Bucky got a haircut. And he was in all black. And he had a leather jacket on.

I blinked rapidly, trying to shake images of jumping his bones from my head.

“Uh, hey Barnes. Looks like you found a barber, huh?” I asked timidly, not wanting to meet his gaze as he took his aviator shades off. Nat and Wanda both turned to check him out, whistling before looking back at me with a smirk on their faces.

“Yeah actually I did,” he replied, smiling. He ran his metal hand through his hair, and my eyes automatically followed the movement. My heart stopped when I made eye contact, before it burst into a sprint as he smiled even brighter. “So, I was wondering if you'd like to go for a ride on my motorcycle” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. I could feel my face burn as Wanda and Nat smirked even wider.

“Uh, like your Harley?” I stammered, turning back to the stove to finish frying the bacon. I tried to fan myself to cool off, but I could feel everyone’s gaze on my back, which made me feel even hotter.

“Sure, we'll go with that.” Oh fuck. I took a deep breath before turning to face him. Nat and Wanda tried to stifle their giggles before easing off their chairs and making a mad dash out of the room. Bucky made his way around the bar, coming to stand in front of me, his arms caging me against the counter. “I was thinking of a different motorcycle that you could ride, if you wanted,” he whispered huskily. I gulped audibly, and he grinned evilly. “Why don’t you go get ready, hmm?” he asked, running the tip of his nose up and down the side of my throat.

“Okay,” I breathed as he placed a kiss to the spot under my ear. His metal hand came to rest on my hip, the cold seeping through my shirt and bringing relief to my overheated skin. “Mmmmm,” I hummed as he began to lavish my neck with open mouthed kisses.

“Hate to interrupt what was going to be a tasteful ‘breakfast in bed’ joke, but some of us want to actually eat.” Sam’s voice popped the bubble that Bucky and I were in. Bucky shot Sam a glare over his shoulder while I hid my face in my hands.

“Once again Sam, your comedic timing is impeccable,” I grumbled through my fingers. Suddenly, the whole world was turned upside down, as Bucky threw me over his shoulder and carried me to his room. “Buck! Put me down!” I cried as he kicked his door shut. He placed me on my feet and attached his lips to mine, quickly divesting me of my shirt and pants. He pulled away only remove his own clothing, standing before me in just his boxers, a noticeable tent in the front.

“You ready for that ride?” Bucky murmured, reaching up to cradle my face in his hands. I nodded, not trusting my voice. “Good, ‘cause you ain’t gettin’ off until I say so,” he promised, hooking his hands under my ass and lifting me off the ground and depositing me on his bed. He crawled up my body, peppering kisses along the way until he reached my lips. “Oh my, so wet already,” he noted, his metal fingers straying into my panties and finding my cunt dripping with slick.

“Mmmmm, Bucky,” I mewled as he slid a finger inside me and began to pump it back and forth. Suddenly, his finger was gone, accompanied by multiple ripping sounds. I opened my eyes in time to see Bucky throwing both his and my underwear across the room, and then I was face to face with his impressive length. He grinned down at me before leaning over to his nightstand to search for a condom. I wrapped my hand around him and began to pump him as he located one and opened it, rolling it down to his base.

“You ready baby?” he asked, lining himself up with my entrance.

“Yesssssssssss,” I moaned, my answer turning into a hiss as he slid in up to the hilt. After a few moments of getting used to each other, Bucky began to thrust wildly, pistoning his hips at a relentless speed. “Oh Bucky yes!” I cried, his tip repeatedly hitting my g-spot, bringing my orgasm closer and closer. “Oh god-don’t stop!” I half-shouted as his pace began to falter.

“Don’t worry baby. I’ve got you,” he crooned, his metal hand coming down to where our bodies were connected and began to vibrate against my clit, effectively sending me over the edge. I gasped against the skin of his shoulder as my orgasm washed over me, riding out my high as he sought his own release. A few thrusts later he came, his seed filling the condom. Once he was able, he grabbed the base of the condom and pulled out of me, removing it and walking into the bathroom to dispose of it.

“So,” Bucky said as he returned to the bed and climbing in next to me.

“So, what’s with the haircut and clothes?” I asked. He chuckled as he blushed slightly.

“Well, I heard what you had said last night about men wearing black and leather and so I thought maybe if I looked the part, you might go out with me,” he explained bashfully. I giggled as he blushed even darker.

“Ok that explains the clothes, but why’d you get a haircut? I like it, don’t get me wrong, but I liked it long too.” I reached up and ran my hands through the shortened tresses.

“Don’t you remember what you told me when I walked you back to your room last night?” I shook my head no so he could tell me. “You said that I should cut my hair because you’d be able to see my eyes better.” It my turn to blush. I didn’t remember telling him that, but it’s true.

“Not gonna lie, I’m totally in love with your eyes. I don’t remember saying that last night though.” He smiled before rolling to his side and pulling me in for a kiss.

“I like your eyes too,” he murmured after the kiss. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at me. “So, I was kinda half serious about taking you for a ride on my Harley. Like, my actually Harley. Not my ‘bike’,” he grinned, gesturing down at his dick. “So, how about we get ready and I’ll take you out on a date.” I smiled at his joke before rolling onto my stomach and pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose.

“Sounds great. Maybe we can go on another ride while we’re out,” I teased, waggling my eyebrows at him. He laughed as he pulled me on top of him, his length hardening against me.

“Why wait?” He asked, pulling me down for another kiss.

TAG LIST:

@avenger-nerd-mom @bolontiku @brighterlights @buckyappreciationsociety @buckyywiththegoodhair @caplanbuckybarnes @delicatecapnerd @donnaintx @etts21 @ghostssss @handshugging @imsecretlyromanburki @jhangelface0523 @kimistry27, @liz-pbnz @magellan-88 @marvel-trash07 @melodyhiddleston, @papi-chulo-bucky @pegasusdragontiger @ryverpenrad @suz-123

#Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #Smut #jrubalcaba

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itshaejinju · 7 years

Text

Family is Forever | Chapter 1

Well here it is! Like this? How about buy me a cup of Ko-Fi!

Word count: 3,965

Warning: Mild swearing (Morana and Gladiolus have dirty mouths)

Tagging: @themissimmortal @stephicness @stunninglyignis @blindbae @rubyphilomela @diadyn @hypaalicious @waifuthewhite @mandakatt @misssarahdoll @mistressoli @diabolik-trash-heap @louisvuittontrashbags @cupnoodle-queen @insomniascure @insomniacapples @insomniasix @fieryfantasy @zacklover24 @neko-otaku13 @shiroce @chocobabyporcelain @chocobropuffs @xnoctits @cagedbycravings @alicemoonwonderland @lady-asuka @sheylann @canyoufeelthehoxtonite @inprotocreed @sisters-of-sin @thirsty-angst-lord @promptoastandbutter @valkyrieofardyn @gudetamazing @bespectacled-girl @sonsoflucis @highwinds-dragoon @teacupjenniesketches @eternallydaydreaming2015 @nykamito @teneniel @thirdstreetcettin @saphscribes @wrathwritesthings @gladiolus-mamacitia @gladixlusamicitia @sweetchocobae

The feud is so old that no one can really remember what it is about any longer. It happened when Noctis was only six years old, his father would never speak of it would not be of his concern until he became Capo Familigia. At first when he was a child it bothered him Noctis wanted to know what was the problem with the other Family – the Izunia’s that his father despised so much. Now that he was eighteen he didn’t quite care about it. What really mattered was skirting classes and playing games at the arcade.

There was rumors that the family feud is something that changes often sometimes it is about hair gel, recipes, books, maps, who really owns Umbra and Pyrna or who can claim Piteous Dungeon as their own. But the actual battles amongst the families were not raged over those things any more those are just rumors that the people in the streets gossiped about behind his back when he walked down the streets to the arcade. It didn’t matter to Noctis much about the rumors or the actual battles that the Families fought it didn’t bother him in the least when Associates and Soldiers came into the manor bloodied or bruised. He was taught not to care about it…

Until the day he met Prompto Argentum. That changed a lot of things for him, the blond joined the ranks of the Caelum Cosche a few months ago. He wasn’t fitting for this life when he was finished his training with Cor Leonis the young man was set to Ignis Scientia thinking his skills would be best to aid the Consigliere in his works. That didn’t last long to Noctis’ dismay as he was able to spend more time with the man that way but now after a huge dispute with Ignis the gunner was tossed to Gladiolus Amicitia. It took a while for Noctis to befriend Prompto as the Associate was afraid of his position, that of Capo Bastone one to inherit the Family. It was understandable for him to be afraid of the title but Noctis looked cold and acted it but underneath it all he was quite chill. He just didn’t know how to express that.

Prompto Argentum could express himself so easily and freely it really frustrated Noctis sometimes and also was refreshing to see. So when he approached Prompto for friendship it was understandable that the young man was to laugh at him and then clam up realizing he just laughed at his superior running for dear life. It wasn’t until one afternoon Noctis had slipped away from Foreign Languages studies lead by Ignis to hit up the arcade, he spotted Prompto in front of the Justice Monster Five machine.

Sidling up to him peering over the lean blond’s shoulder watching him expertly kill the on screen monster until he hit the boss zone dying upon impact. Prompto had playfully smack the side of the machine grumbling about having no more tokens for the game, Noctis leaned by him placing in a few coins.

“Capo Bastone!” Prompto let out in squeak bouncing back from Noctis standing at attention light blue eyes bright and scared.

The room shushed with the whispers of ‘Capo Bastone’, no one here knew that Noctis was Noctis Lucis Caelum of the Caelum Cosche. This arcade was on the borders of his territory so it was quite acceptable for him not to be recognized when he was wearing street clothes. Sporting black skinny jeans, a crisp silver shirt with a thick leather jacket sporting the Leviathan on it, his normally smooth back jet black hair was messy and in his eyes. Everyone in the room immediately started hand over to Noctis handing their spare game tokens, their drinks, offering him compliments left and right. All fearing his family’s name, the power of the Caelum Cosche. It was stifling for Noctis turning to Prompto he gave him a deep set glare, grabbing a hold of his Associates’ wrist squeezing tightly he dragged him out of the Arcade.

“Now I need to find a new arcade to go to thanks, Argentum.” Noctis growled through gritted teeth as he walked out of the place, back into the sunshine of the Friday afternoon daze.

“I’m sorry!” Prompto shouted as he stumbled outside landing on his knees, scuffing up the palm of his hands.

Noctis expected him to cry like he did when Ignis had kicked him out of his service but he just jumped up, brushing off the grime and a bit of blood off his red skinny jeans. Noctis stopped in spot grabbing his hands, rolling his eyes he imparted some of his Lucian Granted Magic to the blond before him, the slight purple aura surrounding the wounds healing him quickly.

“Oh no, Capo Bastone I’m not worthy…don’t do that!” Prompto shouted trying to yank his hands away, this was only magic that Noctis and his father Regis could use and was suppose to be used on blood family members or significant others.

Not Associates lowly like him.

“Who is to say you are worthy or not? It's my magic to impart to anyone and I'm boss.” Noctis said in a stern voice looking into the bright blue eyes.

“Right. . .you are boss. . .Capo Bastone.”

“And. . .I think there should be a thank you in call for.” Noctis said letting go of Prompto's hand which was rather sweaty, the raven hair man brushed his hands off on his pants turning away from Prompto.

“Thank you so much Capo Bastone!” Prompto called out face palming himself, his manners totally out the window.

“Whatever. Now you need to find me a new arcade to go to.”

“The one off 5th and Elm is a good place, Ren's Arcade.”

“Izunia Territory.” Noctis hummed a reply as his midnight blue eyes scanned the busy streets of people milling by, they didn't pay him any attention, walking by playing with their phones talking to their friends.

They didn't care about his position. He liked it that way, preferred it that way. Prompto jogged to catch up with him, brushing some strands of fluffy blond hair out of his face. Noctis turned to face him a little slowing his pace a bit noticing that Prompto looked like he was having a hard time keeping up with him.

“Izunia Territory? How so that is like right around our stuff – right?” He asked confused scratching the top of his head trying to picture the city map of Insomnia in his head.

“Yeah it's but the owner is fuckin' one of their Soldiers so it's a marked spot. It's been that way forever it's commonly under attack by us, don't you know that? Like we attack that spot weekly to shake them down.” Noctis said with a incredulously tone, confused by the fact that this common knowledge flew over Prompto's head.

“Oh. . .I didn't know that.”

“You passed your exams didn't you?” Noctis glared at him, shaking his head some crossing the street not bothering to look to see if cars were coming.

Prompto let out a startled yelp as a car narrowly missed Noctis, the young Capo Bastone Warpstriked out of the way landing on top of a mailbox. The driver honked his horn shouting at Noctis just like he was a regular kid had his friend Gladiolus been there it would have been a fight or at least a lot of shouting of 'who should be respecting who'. He had given Gladiolus the slip and he had a good two hours before the Goliath found him and dragged him back home.

“That was fuckin' amaze-balls, Capo Bastone!” Prompto shouted as he ran across the empty street meeting up with Noctis.

“Can you please call me Noctis out here?” Noctis asked, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, not wanting to deal with that title any more than required.

“But I can't. . .”

“I'm your boss and I say call me Noctis. It's quite simple, Noc-tis.” Noctis commanded, turning to face Prompto, sounding out his name slowly to the man.

“I know how to say it! But Mr. Leonis said. . .”

“I don't give a shit what Cor said, he's just a Soldier.”

“Well I'm just a Associate so I'm even lower. . .” Prompto stammered as Noctis started walking again.

“When we are alone you can call me Noctis, I won't get you into trouble. We are going to Cami's Arcade.”

“I did pass my exams I was fourth in my class in fact.” Prompto said as they passed several shops that he recognized as the ones that were in the protection of the Caelum family.

They were shops that interested him so they stuck in his head, a photo shop, a deli, bakery, pet shop and a music shop. Those shops gave him discounts on items he needed regularly so he shopped at them often plus they were about ten minutes from home. Associates did not live in the manor like the Soldiers and the higher ups, generally in small apartments that were bare bones because pay was rather low. A slightly cool breeze picked up making Prompto wish he was wearing a jacket today as well not a black tank top and the red skinny jeans.

“Well then I must talk to Cor about his training then. . .”

“Why you say that, - - Noctis?”

“You seem to not know common things.”

“Hey his explanations were confusing! Who came up with 'safe days' and the 'concentration line' and all!” Prompto shouted upset, he wasn't fond of people thinking he was stupid he got that with the foster families all the time.

Prompto felt like he was making headway in the Caelum family to have someone ridicule his intelligence was bothersome. Sure he wasn't the brightest but he wasn't the stupidest!

“Safe days is simple every Sunday is a day when no blood can be shed that is all. No battles on Sunday, it's a resting day – a day of worship you know?”

“Worship?” Prompto asked as Noctis stopped in front of a strange looking building, it didn't look like any arcade he had seen before.

The building was all black, the windows were tinted so dark it was impossible to see in the sign that signaled that they were open was small and only the p and n light up. Pushing the door open Noctis breached the entrance without a second thought whereas Prompto looked around a bit shy and wary.

“Yeah worship our family deities? You know how we pray to Bahumat for guidance and all? Titan for strength and the Leviathan for wisdom. . .” Noctis explained shaking his head, this was day one information.

“I thought that was just olden times. . .”

“Uh, there is a mass session every Sunday morning for two hours.” Noctis deadpanned turning to Prompto dark blue eyes glaring at him, if he had to go to mass every Sunday Prompto should.

“I generally sleep in late on Sundays, I gust thought that was my day off.” Prompto said shrugging his shoulders moving over to the front desk to order some tokens.

“Seriously. . .I gotta train my new friend all over.” Noctis commented as he took a huge handful of tokens from the sale clerk who recognized Noctis as a old regular.

“Friend?” Prompto said shocked, he turned to face Noctis a blush raising all the way up to the tip of his ears.

“Yeah, we are friends aren't we?” Noctis asked, shrugging imparting a few tokens to Prompto who only was able to afford 10 Gil worth.

“I didn't know. . .I uh. . .Promise to be the best friend you had Ca- Noctis!” He said happily a large smile on his face as he followed behind Noctis.

Prompto noticed that Noctis kept checking his silver watch, replying to texted that sent the raven haired man smiling as he destroyed villains on the zombie simulator they were playing. It was starting to make Prompto curious as to who he was texting peering over Noctis' shoulder he look his sharp-shooter eyes spotted the name Luna before Noctis could switch screens on him. Noctis rolled his eyes, shooting down a zombie that was taking down Prompto's avatar. Dimming the screen Noctis pocketed the phone, taking down the boss zombie without much fail alongside Prompto. Noctis was rather enjoying himself with Prompto, the one time he convinced Gladiolus to the arcades was horrible, the Soldier who referred to himself as his personal bodyguard was prone to getting over aggressive at the games shouting loudly when he lost. And not too pleased to be playing games for hours on end, preferring a half hour break then back outside to roam the streets doing work.

Noctis' philosophy on Family work was “let it come to me” rather than Gladiolus' “search and destroy” methods. It annoyed him on many factions to be honest it was a waste of energy and time to do something like that. Prompto on the other hand didn't seem to mind that Noctis was suppose to be working today, joining in on with him playing games and not bothering him about it. It was refreshing. Then again it seemed to be that Prompto wasn't totally aware of everything that ran around in the Family. He should have known when Ignis kicked Prompto out of his office after the third time of taking photos of the crime scene of the latest Family shake down. It was such a liability to take photos of anything in the Family Manor or for any crime scenes.

Noctis' phone started to buzz in his pocket again which was odd as he knew Luna would be back in class. Pulling out the phone as his watched beeped, the fifteen minute warning before times up and Gladiolus would find him.

'Incoming Cami's. . . xoxoxo' Was the text message.

“Fuck. Doesn't he have anything better to do that hunt me down, it was just a dick pic.” Noctis glared at the screen of his phone.

“What?” Prompto asked as Noctis tapped out angrily a reply to Luna.

“We have incoming, One Armed Bandit. . .” Noctis said running his hands through his hair, closing his eyes momentarily.

“Ah. . .Ravus!” Prompto said after a moment thinking of the aliases that most Family members use.

Prompto was fond of his given name, as you graduate from training you are given a alias picked by the Capo Familigia. His is Prompto 'the smiling gunner' Argentum just like Noctis is, Noctis 'sleepy boy' Caelum. The names were suppose to strike fear or be literally amusing all depending on how the Capo Familigia felt. It was rare to have your alias changed but it happened from time to time specially if you wronged the family and they were kind enough to forgive you. That much Prompto remembered from the classes, taught to him by Cor 'the immortal lion' Leonis.

“We gotta vacate.” Noctis said replacing the gun-controller shoving the remaining tokens into his pocket.

“We gonna fight them?” Prompto asked his eyes lighting up with a fiery passion, he may be innocent looking but he did enjoy a good brawl from time to time.

“I rather not fight Ravus, this is rather stupid.”

“Something about a eh. . .picture.” Prompto said blushing at thinking about the word 'dick', he pocketed the remaining two tokens following after Noctis.

“I was drunk and Luna and I were trading pictures with each other and I got brave sent her a dick pic. Ravus saw – fuckin' jerk watching her like a hawk I swear.”

“That is quite rude of him.” Prompto agreed.

“Fuckin Noctis there you are!” Gladiolus shouted as he opened the door of the arcade, the giant man shaking his head, as thick long brown hair got into his face.

“Watch your tone with me.” Noctis glared at Gladiolus, knowing that Gladiolus is upset because Ravus Nox Fleuret was in the area.

“We got trouble.” Gladiolus said pointing back out the window, to show the tall lean beanpole of a man walking down the street in a crisp pin striped suit.

“I heard.”

“I wish your girlfriend was better at sending warnings.” Gladiolus said grabbing onto Noctis' jacket tugging him towards the door.

“Shut up Gladio it's not official. . .” Noctis said blushing a bit at the words girlfriend.

He was suppose to get married to Lunafreya Nox Fleuret – Ravus' younger sister to meld the Izunia Family and the Caelum Family but it is currently in a political standstill. It was something that he didn't want to think about, the two of them have been online dating for a few years now so it wasn't a horrible thing to be married to meld the families. When his father spoke of it the whole thing sounded like a death sentence it wasn't quite making sense to Noctis.

“Let's go get them!” Prompto said summoning his Hyper-Magnum pistols as Gladiolus walked out of the room summoning his Hardedge dual-wield blade.

“I guess I'm in for it now. . .” Noctis said as he followed Gladiolus and Prompto out of the house, summoning his trusty Engine Blade.

As they walked outside there was a short black hair woman who was swinging a kusarigama, a wild look in her pale green eyes staring at the tall platinum blond man before her. Ravus was standing several yards in front of Gladiolus' girlfriend Morana both of them in a standstill as Noctis hefted his blade up. Ravus never traveled alone always flanked by at least two others most often females but they were not in sight was this just to talk? That was rare for Ravus on days that were not Sunday. Carefully trained eyes stared at the likely spots for snipers to sit at, nothing came to his vision as Gladiolus stood protectively in front of Noctis.

“Capo Bastone Caelum you are mine.” Ravus spoke loud and clear as he turned facing Noctis with sharp hetero-chromatic eyes of violet and blue.

“Through my dead body.” Gladiolus said shifting his weight from foot to foot keeping a trained eye on Ravus, large blade in front of his body ready to strike.

The ample female struck, at Ravus the sickle slamming against the rapier that Ravus wielded it was a loud strike that sounded like thunder. That started the fight, Morana wasn't one for words to be exchanged amongst the group. Out of nowhere appeared two women gently like a leaf on the wind a tall silver hair woman came from the top of the building to Noctis' left hefting a long silver spear. A short slender female with a taciturn look carrying a set of butterfly swords came out of a dark alleyway.

“Damn.” Noctis said as he noticed the new count, Aranea Highwind, Ravus Nox Fleuret and Lenore Graves.

Gladiolus stayed close to Noctis as he started to move into the fray going up against Aranea who started to lunge at him with her lance. They had about twenty minutes before the cops would come in and force them to separate, of course Noctis would be in the clear as this was Caelum territory. It was a stupid move of Ravus' part to walk in on clear Caelum land it just showed how upset he was over a foolish picture. Morana was engaging Lenore now volleying off swears and smacks from the spiked ball of the kusarigama. Noctis warp-striking back and forth around Ravus did his best to overwhelm the Consigliere of the Izunia family. Prompto unsure of his direction in the battle was bouncing back and forth between all three targets, shouting happily as he took the battle easily. He hadn't been in many frays since he started but he wasn't the best fighter but he was the best shot.

“You shouldn't have sent her those pictures.” Ravus growled at Noctis as they clashed blades, only inches apart from each other, eyes locked on each other.

“She was rather pleased with them.”

“So wouldn't any virgin. . .” Ravus retaliated, sending Noctis back several feet as he punched him with his Magitek arm.

Gladiolus slipped in landing a rough blow to Ravus' Magitek arm making the thin man stagger back several feet shaking his arm as the vibration from the blade was too much for him to handle. Prompto took the moment to lob off a shot to Ravus hoping to actually land a deathly blow to the man but it was blocked as the shell ricocheted off the flat surface of the butterfly sword of Lenore as she leap in front of Ravus. Angrily Ravus shoved her to the side, a furious look on his narrow face muttering something under his breath to her.

The sounds of sirens of the local cops was a relief to Noctis he didn't want to deal with this any longer. He rather be at home now, taking a nap in the sun.

“Fuck cops!” Morana shouted, as she took a good swipe at Aranea's back making the taller woman scream in pain.

“Scatter!” Lenore shouted as she leap to her feet looking at the cop cars that started to pull on to the street, local shop owners staring out the windows scared of what they were watching.

In a blink of a eye Ravus, Aranea and Lenore were gone as if they never had been on that street leaving the rest standing looking around for them.

“Well that was fun!” Prompto shouted a gleeful look on his face.

“Hey the gunner one gets it.” Morana sniped at the blond her eyes surveying him as she walked over to Gladiolus.

“I'm out of here.” Noctis said dematerialize his blade walking away from the group.

“What about me?” Prompto asked confused.

“You aren't going anywhere, Capo Bastone, you are going back to classes with Ignis. I am sick of his bitching about you failing all these classes because you are out playing games.”

“Well it came in handy to have me playing games.” Noctis said giving Gladiolus a defiant glare, as the man stood next to him.

“It wouldn't have happened if you were at the manor.” Gladiolus rebutted.

“Let's not fight okay, we can go back right – No- Capo Bastone.” Prompto said trying to ease the tension.

“Fuck boi~.” Morana whistled under her breath as she dematerialized her kusarigama, a teasing smirk on her face as she stared down Prompto who took several steps back.

“Close it Tarda.” Noctis ordered of the Soldier as she walked closer to Gladiolus a firm glare now on her face.

“As you wish.” She muttered, running fingers through the red dyed patches of her hair as she looked around as the cops got out of the cars guns drawn.

“We are leaving Officers.” Noctis called out to them, they were on the Caelum payroll only raising there weapons as a show of comfort to the shop owners.

Shaking his head Noctis looked up to the sky then back to the others, “I guess I could go back now it's took late the school kids will be flooding into arcades anyways they make it too loud and bothersome.”

#familia est aeternum fanfic #family is forever fanfic #mafia au #ff15 #ff15 fanfiction #noctis lucis caelum #prompto argentum #gladiolus amicitia #ravus nox fleuret #aranea highwind #Morana Tarda #lenore graves #ignis scientia #chapter 1 #my writings

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