#Carrie Kain

[ribcageeater]

I lied, have art I drew today

We got Carrie and Danny (my re-write's Claire and David Blindman)

Okay so a few changes to the story/character for both of them

First and most importantly Micha didn't send Danny to get his eyes taken out because WHAT THE FUCK. Micha tried to use a freaky magic spell thing to remove his future vision as a last resort because the foundation found out about Danny's future vision (Micha was keeping it secret) but it didn't work and it blinded him, so out of guilt and fear that the foundation would take Danny he sent Danny to the Serpents Hand to live with with Carrie to keep him safe. And also he has arthritis and needs to walk with a cane some days.

Okay so Carrie was diagnosed with schizophrenia when she was 15 because of her trying to warn people about bad things that are about to happen, Adam (have not drawn him yet because I hate him/j) out of concern put Carrie into containment at Site 13 (yes I know there's site 13 lore in cannon please just ignore that) because site 13 is small and treats the humanoid anomalies almost nicely. Carrie was broken out of containment by the Serpents Hand along with all the humanoid anomalies on site and Carrie decided to join the Serpents Hand.

Alright, I'll stfu now

[observerkaine]

A totally normal nether trip.

[cosmic-navel-gazin]

Hello I submit our beloved depressed wraith Raziel for the blorbo bingo <3

TWO ASKS FOR MY BOY!!! Okay here goes:

My disheveled depressed blue corpse son, my Skrunkly little scrimblo ... 🕍💀⚰️🧛🏻🌀 💙👻🗡️

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⡶⢿⣟⡛⣿⢉⣿⠛⢿⣯⡈⠙⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⠻⣧⣬⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠉⣠⣾⣿⠿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⡋⣻⣾⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠛⠀⢻⣿⡇⢀⣴⡶⡄⠈⠛⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣉⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣇⠈⢿⣤⡿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢰⣿⣉⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠦⠀⢻⣦⠾⣆⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣾⣏⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⡶⢾⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣿⠉⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣧⣼⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣿⡛⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣧⣼⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠸⡿⢻⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣥⣽⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢻⡟⢙⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣧⣸⡏⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⡋⣻⣿⣿⣿⣦⣤⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣴⣿⣿⢿⣥⣼⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣯⣤⣿⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⣷⣴⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠾⣧⣼⣟⣉⣿⣉⣻⣧⡿⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

The free space is for Raziel's last gift for Kain: Hope ;)

Pretty privilege includes wraith form btw (I know zephon mocks his ass saying he's not Kain's pretty boi anymore but I have to disagree, he's still pretty to me)

I liked him as soon as the intro for Soul Reaver 1 finished, and my love for him only grew with each subsequent hour playing and with each subsequent game. Some reasons why (there's too many!!!!) :

HIS VOICE, THE ACTING, THE THEATRICALITY OF IT ALL, THE GESTICULATION THE DIALOGUE THE PHILOSOPHIZING THE MORAL GRANDSTANDING... Ugh I love his inner-monologues, his musings and narrations (guys... I-I... may have a type....)

Like, HIS WRAITH DESIGN! ALL HIS DESIGNS BUT WRAITH ONE IS SO UNIQUE AND MEMORABLE! I had seen his design before playing the games and it immediately grabbed my attention. I have never forgotten about it ever since I first saw it. The " no lower jaw no pants thing" he has going on, I love that he's self-conscious about his missing lower jaw so he hides it with his former cape/cowl. I love his low poly ass in SR1, his empty ass rib-cage,the very grabbable waist, the glowing blank eyes, the mascara running down his bony cheeks, his blue tits… I see a game that let you play as a disheveled corpse and I'm all in. In love with it immediately, and it pisses me off that I'll never look this good!

I love his animation for eating souls.

Shout-out also to his T-posing jesus thing he does to pass through grates!

I love his ability to shift between the material and spiritual relms sooooo much, the way the architecture and environments bend and twist, my beloved

I love him as a vehicle for you to go and explore the history of Nosgoth, the way you the player are just as clueless and ignorant as he is in a way that draws you to want to dive in deeper and deeper into this world, it's so well done

I love his Ouroboros-core ass and all that that symbolism entails, I love you doomed by the narrative but nevertheless never stop trying

I love you harrowing tragic experience after tragic experience, take my boy outta these situations but also don't because they're so good

I love you endings of Soul Reaver 2 and Defiance and what it does for his character, I love you hope and trust

I love how he's everyone's pawn and his attempts to free himself from that all throughout space and time

I love his utterly confused and lost ass

I love his history, both what is in the text and all the hints and details you can read into if you want, I've seen such good meta and headcanons! ALSO Everyone shut up and go read @razielim's Metasanguine for some delicious scrumptious raziel and his brothers' meta and empire era fleshing out of their characters.

I love his self-righteous indignation I LOVE YOU "YOU'RE A RIGHTEOUS FIEND AREN'T YOU APPARENTLY I AM" (allow me to toot my own horn and link to this art I did right after the ending of SR2 fucked me)

I love his character development

HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS KIN, ESPECIALLY KAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!

ALSO HIM AND JANOS

HIS TIE WITH AND EVENTUAL REVELATION OF THE SOUL REAVER SWORD YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH SOUL REAVER 2 FUCKED ME UPPPPPPP AND HOW STUPID I FELT FOR NOT HAVING SEEN IT COMING I LOVE FEELING LIKE A FUCKING IDIOT

Love his multiple incarnations throughout the many centuries (it's so good to see the many ways he has changed and the many more he may not have changed at all. ) THE FACT THAT THESE FOUR ARE THE SAME PERSON AND IT'S NOT JUST A CLUSTERFUCK THERE IS MEANING AND INTENT BEHIND THIS AND AAAARGHHH WHERE ELSE DO YOU GET THIS KINDA SHIT

I COULD GO ON AND ON YOU KNOW HOW IT IS...

[scarletspider2the2ndpower]

So that resurrection scene kind of brings up something for the general Kaine vs Ben and Peter debate- it looks like the Jackal did enhance his powers/mutate them beyond what Peter could do? I know there's the argument over whether Kaine is meant to look exactly like Peter/have the exact same powers but this seems to support the idea that he was deliberately designed differently from Ben. And the Other would have resurrected him perfectly; so these secondary mutations he's initially resurrected with are implied to be part of his natural powerset? I've been trying to figure this out for years and no one can agree lmao

Oooooh, thank you so much for sending in an ask, because this is a topic I could talk about endlessly. :D

Disclaimer: the continuity surrounding Kaine and the Clone Saga as a whole is uniquely snarled even beyond typical comic book whackiness, so while I will do my best to back up my reasoning using comic book evidences, I am, at the end of the day, just a person on the internet and you should take everything I say with a grain of salt hahaha Oh, and another disclaimer is that I’ll mainly be drawing from the material I have read for this read-through so far. It has been a couple years since I last read Scarlet Spider vol. 2 or any of the more recent works Kaine has been in, so I may go back and add to this post in the future if I stumble upon any more interesting and relevant material. 👀

The shortest and most direct answer to your first question of if the Jackal specifically made Kaine differently from Ben with the aim of the former being “stronger” than Peter is from the “Echoes” story in Web of Spider-Man (Vol. 2/2009), #1 by J. M. DeMatteis.

Further supporting evidence in this vein can be found in the story I believe you’re referencing in your ask, “What I Did for Love,” Spider-Island: Deadly Foes (Vol. 1/2011), #1.

All of these can be editorially explained by the staff scrambling to answer the question of “wait, if we’re going to bring Kaine back in the year of our Lord 2009, how on earth are we going to explain how he, out of all the Parker clones (including Ben at this point), didn’t degenerate when degenerating was one of Kaine’s defining characteristics???” That’s where I believe the narrative of “the Jackal designed Kaine to be stronger” is most definitively explicated; however, I have further “evidences,” musings, and discussion of how The Other changes spider people beneath the cut if any one would like to read more. :D

There are other, even earlier indicators, however, that Kaine was built to be stronger than Peter. The first examples that come to mind are Kaine’s precognitive flashes and the infamous Mark of Kaine. The latter is a more easily defendable claim as, while Peter has demonstrated that in moments of extreme rage like in Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 1/1963), #598 and #637 he is not above sticking to someone’s face, those instances seem to be more like examples of extreme adhesion as opposed to the unique burning/acidic quality of Kaine’s “Mark.”

Peter in Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 1/1963), #598 vs. Kaine in Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 1/1963), #631 and #636, respectively.

Now, Kaine’s precognitive flashes actually being Peter’s spider-sense amped up to 11 is a bit harder to defend, as that requires near-apocryphal material as evidence. Specifically, Marvel editor and writer Glenn Greenberg described Kaine’s pre-cog flashes as such in part nine of The Life of Reilly, a joint project with Andrew Goletz and various other Marvel insider interview subjects on the complicated editorial history surrounding The Clone Saga. Greenberg goes on to state in that same part that “it was well established in the stories that Kaine was physically stronger than Peter, and he was clearly much taller and more massive” (qualities we will get back too), but that all of Kaine’s abilities directly paralleling Peter was never actually explicitly stated in the text, much to all of the writers’ chagrin.

So, in light of that statement, I would like to throw my hat into the ring on the “is Kaine stronger/bigger than Peter” debate (what could possibly go wrong hahaha).

As early as when Kaine first revealed himself to be a Parker clone, he was described by multiple sources, including Kaine himself, the aforementioned Jackal, Ben, and Peter, as being stronger.

Spider-Man (Vol. 1/1990), #60 by Howard Mackie.

Spider-Man (Vol. 1/1990), #66 by Howard Mackie.

Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 1/1963), #634 by Joe Kelly.

Now, whether Kaine is actually stronger or just more willing to cut loose and use his strength to its full lethal capabilities is an argument I am definitely willing to entertain, as there is no doubt that Peter is strong, but willfully holds himself back (I don’t think I’ll ever forget that time Peter held up the entire Daily Bugle building on his back in Spider-Man (Vol. 1/1990), #98 or the time he beat Firelord, a herald of Galactus, in Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 1/1963), #270, and he is a self-proclaimed juggler of cars according to Peter Parker: Spectacular Spider-Man (Vol. 1/2017), #6). (…and then there’s that whole debacle with the “““superior””” Spider-Man and the Scorpion’s jaw).

As for if Kaine is physically larger, I stand by Greenberg’s statement that Kaine was consistently drawn as larger than Peter throughout the 1990’s and most of the 2000’s, with even the Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe: Spider-Man (2005) listing Kaine as being 6’4” while Peter has reliably been 5’10” for ages (or as listed in the Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe: A-Z (2009) if you want a specific source hahaha).

In fact, from what I have gathered, Kaine wasn’t portrayed as being physically similar in size to Peter until Slott’s Spider-Island event in 2011 (which,,,I feel like critics might be able to make a snide comment from that about how much Slott cares about the Spider-Man franchise, but that is WAY too far afield hahaha).

Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 1/1963), #672.

Okay, so after all that, I also wanted to discuss what you brought up about the Other and resurrecting Kaine with his innate skill set. The facetious answer would be “yes, kind of???”, but considering Peter’s own experience with being connected to the Other, the powers Kaine developed post-resurrecting are not all actually as unique as, say, his precognitive flashes or his Mark.

Interestingly enough, a lot of the powers we associate with post-encountering-the-Other Kaine were actually explored with Peter in the early and mid-2000’s, with each power being unlocked after investigating Peter’s connection to the Spider-totem concept or other inherent spider-related matters.

Namely, Ezekial Sims first hints that by tapping into the totem Peter could communicate with spiders in Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 2/1999), #32 by J. Michael Straczynski.

That concept is further expounded upon and made to be a reality in Spectacular Spider-Man (Vol. 2/2003), #20 by Paul Jenkins, when the Spider-Queen enhanced existing spider-like qualities and DNA in Peter (in a rather horrific arc that solidified my hatred for the Spider-Queen but that’s just me hahaha)

During that same arc, Peter also got organic webbing.

Finally, Peter did briefly have a pair of Kaine’s infamous wrist bone blades (pictured here from Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man (Vol. 1/2005), #3 by J. Michael Straczynski), but, being the kind of guy who typically tries to avoid disemboweling people (Morlun here is an exception since he broke MJ’s arm), Peter just didn’t use them all too often.

So anyway, tl;dr, what happens with Kaine post-resurrection could definitely be described as “enhancing powers that were already there if perhaps inert,” but there is a compelling argument (if you take all comics from all eras as equally valid/canon), that those powers are buried within Peter’s DNA/totemic connection(???) as well and were thus passed onto his enhanced clone.

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Built a haven for your love (until I let you fall apart)

Mihawk x reader. NSFW!!

Title is an excerpt from Blind and Frozen by Beast in Black. I will probably write a second part to this...

Note - 13/11/2023: I have edited the fic to delete a brief, completely unimportant reference to Kain, the reader's past lover, in order to focus on other, more important characters.

*****

What I wanted to ask you is... do you wanna have a baby?

Dracule Mihawk doesn't have friends; he hasn't had any for a long time, maybe since he was still a child and forming bonds with school mates was almost inevitable. He knows, without guilt or embarrassment, that the fault is largely his own, since approaching him requires a certain courage, given his intimidating figure, not to mention his reputation; he prides himself on the fact he has never hurt an innocent, least of all voluntarily, but many people don't even need to know about his activities and his deadly ability as a swordsman to perceive he is not the sort of man you could invite to join you at the bar.

He is fine with that; truthfully, he is happy with that, since he has always preferred his own company to that of others; perhaps it is presumptuous of him, but most people bore him in the best of cases... and get on his nerves in the worst. At best, he has a few acquaintances he doesn't mind meeting, like Shanks (even though he doesn't consider the Red-Haired pirate a worthy opponent anymore, given the loss of his arm)... or you.

Your acquaintances goes back a long time, after a chance meeting soon after the beginning of your respective carreers. A swordsman who had challenged him was killed by you the day before they had agreed to meet for their duel; you apologized for stealing his adversary, and offered to split the bounty as compensation, but Mihawk declined, convinced that the fact that the other swordsman had been so easily killed made him an unworthy opponent, so in a way you had spared him a waste of time. You parted (somehow) amicably, and that had been your last encounter for years, until you had both allied yourself with the Marines, him as one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea and you as a mercenary, both not exactly on the World Government's payroll but still regularly called upon to carry out assignments suited to your particular talents.

You have never exactly looked for each other, but for some reason you have met often and regularly, both at the Marine HQ and wherever your travels would bring you. You are extremely capable at what you do, proud of your abilities and accomplishments without lapsing into boastfulness, smarter than many of the people he has to deal with and a pleasant company when the two of you find yourselves killing time with a glass of wine as you wait to meet Vice-Admiral Garp. Mihawk... likes you, in a sense, a feeling that is in part respect and in part a fondness he can't describe; it is pleasant talking to you, you never get on his nerves like many people do, and he can't help admiring the bravery, stubbornness and resourcefulness that have made you the best mercenary in the four seas, capable of hunting down whoever you are pursuing across land and sea and dispatch them, accurate, relentless, and inexorable. He wouldn't say he looks forward to seeing you, but you are one of the few people he doesn't mind meeting, and is pretty sure you feel the same.

That is how things are between the two of you; such they have been for years, and such Mihawk expects them to remain for the foreseeable future... until today. Until your proposal, and since he has been a boy very few things and people have been able to surprise him, but this... this really takes the cake.

"Is it good to see you; it's been a while." you say, receiving a nod in response. A small, well-lit chamber in the Marine HQ is used as a waiting room for officers and civilians waiting for a meeting or to be received by a superior, and this is where the two of you have met, having both come to the HQ for your own affairs; you seemed happy to see him, and he had accepted your invite to sit and enjoy a glass of wine, that you had languidly ordered to the first cadet who had walked past you.

"It has."

"Are you leaving or returning?"

"Returning; I have to report to Garp." Mihawl explains as he makes himself comfortable on the chair; he has not fully carried out the task he had been assigned, since the young pirate who has inherited Shank's straw hat is still at large, but he is not worried of the repercussions; after all, he is not the Marines' lap dog, the Vice-Admiral's even less "Yourself?"

"Just received my new assignment; I'm leaving for the North Blue in the morning. Just killing some time until my dinner reservation." you elaborate; one of your many guns (you always have no less than four on your person, from the long rifle you carry slung over your shoulder to a tiny but deadly pistol you keep hidden in the wide sleeve of your shirt) is placed on your lap, together with the rag you have used to polish it until the arrival of your drink "So, what keeps the greatest swordsman in the world busy these days?"

You listen intently as he tells you about Zoro, a young and impulsive adversary he nonetheless is sure will one day will be worthy of his attention, and then you tell him about your latest quarry: a man who, knowing you were pursuing him, had hidden in a ball-room full of people during a dance, confident that the quick-moving throng around him would make it impossible for a sniper to aim. He didn't have the time to realize how wrong he was when you, hanging upside-down from a lamppost across the street, shot him through a window in the middle of a valzer, your bullet brushing against his partner's cheek without hurting her and passing through his skull from his left orbit.

"Impressive." Mihawk says; he doesn't tell you he could count the people who have earned such a compliment from him on the fingers of one hand, but you smile, clearly flattered.

"Thank you."

For a couple minutes, the only noise in the room is the soft song of the backwash filtering through the windows; you seem... pensive, Mihawk thinks, not sad but vaguely tense as you sip your wine, as if there were a problem you can't find a solution for.

The only other people present in the room are a trio of captains arguing over a map on the table in front of them; coming in, they have glared at both of you, as if unhappy to see a couple of miscreants like you, a pardoned pirate and a woman who kills for money, among them, but both you and Mihawk have ignored them. He sees a look of satisfaction on your face when finally the three uniformed officers leave; as soon as you are alone, you look at him.

"May I ask you something?"

Mihawk looks back; this is why you were anxious, he realizes. Even though you try to maintain a calm, almost casual tone, the tenseness is still clear in your eyes and in your ramrod posture, and in the way in which you almost subconsciously grip the gun in your hands, not to point it against him but because it makes you feel safer and more in control.

It is the same for him; otherwise, no matter how confident he is in his capacities as a swordsman, he would not sleep with Yoru under his bed... and the Kogatana under his pillow.

"You may." he concedes; not of course, or tell me everything, because such expansiveness is as far from his personality as it is possible to be, and you know it well. But he knows you as well, and because of this, he is willing to listen; he has no idea what you may want to discuss (maybe a partnership for a particularly challenging task? If so he might humour you, if the quarry is interesting. He wouldn't mind seeing you at work) but he must admit, he is curious... just a little "What is it?"

You breathe in, like a diver ready to jump; you don't lack courage, and still, for a moment Mihawk expects to hear you say "It doesn't matter." and leave it there.

You don't.

"I would like to ask you... if you'd like to have a baby with me."

*****

You can't remember ever being so nervous, even though he is the last of a long list of men you have approached (but after all, none of them were like the one sitting in front of you; none, you have come to suspect, could ever be), but when you look at Mihawk, who after a whole minute has yet to utter a single word, you feel a smile blossoming on your lips.

"Are you surprised? I should be proud, I left the infamous "Hawk Eyes" Mihawk speechless..."

"Is this a joke?" he inquires, and you would have to be deaf to ignore the threat in his voice; your smile disappears, as quickly as it had come.

"Absolutely not; I know you are not the joking sort, and this matter is extremely important to me. Give me five minutes and everything will be clear."

He doesn't answer, not even with a nod, but he remains where he is, silently allowing you to go on, and you swallow, your mouth suddenly as dry as if you hadn't had a sip of water in days. You are not afraid of him (not actively, at least; he could probably kill you, if he tried, but you know he is not the sort of man who needlessly resorts to violence for the simple pleasure to hurt others... and maybe, just maybe, your long acquaintance will grant you a little of his patience) but probably you'd have been better off keeping him out of your little plan. After all, there are so many other candidates, healthy men whose cooperation you could secure with a bought drink and a bit of sweet talking; involving him (a man you know, and respect, and because of this who you feel obliged to be honest with, not to mention it would be hard to keep him in the dark regarding your plan, since you meet semi-regularly) is unnecessarily complicated... but at the same time something in your heart, a tiny voice you have stopped listening to eight years ago, tells you that this is the right choice, he is - for your future child, and maybe for you as well.

"I don't think you know this, but I am the heir of a noble house." you begin "My family rules over an island in the North Sea. It is nothing special, tiny compared to many others similar domains, but the soil is fertile and we have trade agreements in place with many other kingdoms and cities; about fifteen hundred people live on the island, and my family has governed them for more than ten centuries. It is a very beautiful place, with a mild climate and a luxuriant nature."

Silence.

"Sorry, sometimes I get carried out when I talk about my home. Anyway, I am the only heir to the family; I have no siblings and my mother is too old to have other children, which means that the responsibility to ensure the continuation of the family lineage falls on my shoulders. Because of this, I have decided it is time for me to bear an heir who will one day rule our home; and because of this, I need someone to sire a child for me."

Silence again, and you know him well enough to know that Mihawk never utters three words if one is sufficient, nor does he appreciates useless talk from his interlocutor, so you force yourself to keep silent as well, feeling your heart beating fast enough to hurt. The worst he can do is refuse your offer, which would be disappointing (it would really be, you realize in your heart; a bitter, deep disappointment) but not an insurmountable problem, and you'd be free to look for another donor, but still, you find yourself holding your breath as you wait for an answer. Why do you feel like this?, you wonder; he is just one man, one you have grown deeply fond of in the years since your first meeting and whose blood would undoubtedly produce healthy, strong and attractive offspring, but suddenly you feel desperate to receive a positive answer, and you don't know why. Is it because after five years, you're starting to lose hope? Or because you know how embarrassing it would be, to think back to his refusal when you would meet Mihawk again in the future? Or maybe...?

"Don't noble families require a member to be married in order for their children to be eligible to inherit?" the man in front of you suddenly asks "I seem to understand you are not asking for my hand."

"I am not; what I would like from you is to get me pregnant, that's all. It is true that the children of unmarried couples are often forbidden from inheriting, especially in the case of a noble family, but things are different in my island. Marriage is often just a formality and a personal choice, and no large difference exists between couples who actually tie the knot and those who don't, nor between the treatment given to their children. A blood relationship with the ruler, or their heir, is enough to ensure suitability as far as the inheritance of the fief is concerned; I could technically adopt a child from another family, but their position would be less solid. I have no siblings or other close relatives: if the child is born from my womb, there will be no reason to doubt their qualifications." you explain, secretly relieved Mihawk has not refused your proposal already but suddenly wishing you could exchange the average red wine in your glass for a sip of cool water "So... are you interested?"

Silence - again, and this time it is clear to you Mihawk is reflecting on your words, something you can't blame him for, and obviously this is the sort of proposal you can't decide on in a matter of minutes, not to mention he is clearly the sort of man who likes to meditate on what he does, but at the same time you can't take it anymore... the silence is going to kill him.

"Mihawk, please." you murmur. For a moment you are about to rest your hand on his over the table, an innocent contact to lend more weight to your words, but thank all the Gods you stop yourself in time since, good acquaintances or not, in a heartbeat you'd probably find your hand amputated by the little blade hanging from Mihawk's neck "Tell me what you're thinking."

His eyes, until now focused on the wine in his glass, move to you, and for the first time since you remember, you need to make an effort to hold his gaze, not because of his eyes, whose colour actually reminds you of a bird of prey, rather because of the intent behind them: he is observing you like a scientist studying an interesting experiment, and it is not pleasant.

Stop it now, you're about to say, but once more, you force yourself to hold your tongue; you are not afraid of him, you have never been, but after all you're trying to earn his collaboration.

"I have a few questions." he states in the end, folding his hands on his lap.

"Understandable. Please ask."

"Why are you asking me?"

"Well, you're not my first choice." you confess, immediately aware those words don't precisely convey your thoughts; you glance at him, suddenly curious to know if he found them offensive, but Mihawk's face is as expressive as the wall behind him "I mean, I have started trying to conceive five years ago, and consequently it was then that I have started searching for a donor. Until now, I have chosen men I didn't previously know; I made sure they were healthy, because obviously I want my child to be physically and mentally sound, and young, since at a certain point age results in a decline of fertility. But now..."

"Now?"

You shrug. "I don't know. I am tired of sleeping with men I don't even know and don't feel attracted to; seducing them is not easy, since I have never been good at flirting, and I can't help feeling guilty when some of them ask to see me again. With you it would be different, and this is why I am coming clean about my real intent; with the others I didn't, and not simply because we meet regularly and you would notice I was pregnant and suspect the child was yours. I know you are in excellent health, and since I want what is best for my child, I'd be happy if they inherited your skills and strength of character."

"I see."

He seems uncertain - he is uncertain, you realize, maybe like it rarely happens in his life; but he is actually considering your proposal, which is already more than you felt confident about.

"What if I wanted to be part of the child's life?" he says after a while "And what if they were not fit to rule your island? Healthy parents can have sick children as well."

"Do you think I would put aside my child simply because...?"

"Answer me."

In your heart you can't blame him for asking, rather the fact that he wants to make sure the child will be taken care of does him credit; he doesn't seem the sort of man who dreams of fatherhood, but after all he deserves to have his say on the matter. So you tell him that your child will have to be raised on your island, since it will be necessary for them to know the land and the people they will one day have to rule, not to mention to receive the necessary education, but nothing forbids their father to spend some time with them, either there or wherever else. "You could visit our island as often as you want, or they could visit you; I'm sure you'll keep them safe. On the other hand, if you wished to have nothing to do with them, I would respect it; I would also keep your name a secret, if you so desire. And whatever happens, even if, Gods forbid, our child got sick or something actually made him unfit to rule, I would still take care of them at the best of my ability. I don't want you to think they would be a means to an end; I don't want a centuries-long lineage to end with me, and I know of my duties towards my island, but... but I do want a child. I want to become a mother, I have for a long time; and there is nothing I would not do to defend my child, not after...

... after what I have been through. After I failed once already.

"... after wanting it for so long."

Silence. Again. You are still clutching your wine glass, hard enough to break it you realize, and as you place it on the table between the two of you Mihawk is still deep in his thoughts, his fingers intertwined on his knee; after a while (you have practically stopped breathing) he opens his mouth to talk...

"Hawk-eye Mihawk? Vice-Admiral Garp is waiting for you."

You have nothing against the cadet who has just joined you at the table (a young, short man with pink hair and round glasses) but you find yourself glaring at him, wishing he had better timing. Mihawk doesn't try to hide his dissatisfaction either.

"I will be with him in a moment." he says with an hand-wave, as if to dismiss the messenger; for a moment the cadet looks as if he's about to say something, before wisely deciding it really is not worth it, and leaves the two of you alone.

Mihawk stands; in a moment, he has retrieved Yoru from the wall he had placed it against and he has placed it on his back, the movement as fluid and apparently effortless as those of a dancer. "I will think about it." he says; he doesn't add I promise or anything of the sort, but you can trust him (you do already) and you know it, and because of this, you smile.

"I know you will. Thank you; thank you for listening to what I had to say." you say, and then he leaves, and you pour yourself another glass of wine, still thirsty but aware you need more than water to recover.

*****

The sight of the sun disappearing beyond the horizon, the flame-red ball seemingly drowning in the dark waters of the sea, is still breath-taking; Mihawk loved it when he first took the sea as a young man, and while no one could ever consider him a romantic (not that many people know him well enough to get an impression of his personality, but still) he finds it equally charming now, so many years later.

The harbour is almost empty around him, a few sailors who hurry to secure their boats before retiring, while the Marines doing the night shift cross the paved path behind him to reach their post. A gentle wind has risen, the white feathers on Mihawk's hat and the tails of his coat barely stirring; he doesn't notice, so focused he is on the spectacle taking place as every day in front of him... and on the surprising proposal he has received four hours ago.

(name) has amazed him; that he has to give her. He would have never imagined her in the role of the scion of a noble family, given her collected but friendly personality, completely devoid of the conceit and sense of superiority so common among the few World Noble he has crossed path with, but at the same time, it isn't hard to imagine her drafting laws or collecting taxes in the little corner of world her family has ruled over for so long. How did a woman whose destiny had undoubtedly been prepared for her since before she was born (Mihawk had no doubts about it, given the care (name) herself had already taken programming the future of their child) end up working as a mercenary? Is her fief so impoverished she needs to raise funds to take care of her people? Or is it simply an hobby to pursue while the previous generation still rules... ?

Their child. The thought appars, sudden and unbidden, in his mind, and Mihawk finds himself struggling to breathe for a moment. He has never given much thought to a possible future paternity, and during his (very sporadic, at least in the last decade) sexual encounters he has always made sure to avoid the risk of pregnancy. Still, the idea of having a child with (name) is... intriguing. He has no doubt she would take care of her progeny in the best way possible, and while he has never considered himself an ambitious man, the prospect of contributing to perpetuate a centuries-long lineage is... pleasing; also, should the child demonstrate an attitude for swordsmanship, he could take them on as an apprentice and bequeath them his knowledge and capacities...

And then there is the other thing. The fact he is almost embarrassed to admit even in the privacy of his own heart, the small but not insignificant detail that has caught him off guard like no adversary has ever done since he was thirteen: the warmth that has filled his belly, and the area below that, when the mental image of him and (name) conceiving that child... the two of them naked, in bed together... blossomed in his mind.

He shouldn't feel embarrassed, let alone distressed, because of that. He is an adult, having thoughts and desires of a sexual nature is perfectly normal, and he has no troubles admitting, at least privately, that (name) is an attractive woman; he surely is not the first man to be attracted to her.

... am I? Attracted to her? I have never thought about her in such a way, let alone about the two of us together; and there was nothing lascivious in the way she discussed her proposal. She wasn't trying to... to seduce me, she asked for a favour but it was more akin to a business deal. Then why am I feeling like this?

He sighs, his eyes still focused on the darkening expanse of the sea. The whole matter is probably harmless, but delicate enough to potentially cause troubles down the line; but after all, what would they have to fear? The idea of becoming a father is not so unpleasant after all, he and (name) are both adults and have the sort of relationship he is confident would not suffer after the end of their... tryst. At worst, they will spend a few pleasant hours together; at best, they will have something precious to carry out their lineage once their time is over.

It is getting darker by the minute. Mihawk remains still, his svelte figure cloaked by the night, witnessing the sun disappearing under the sea.

*****

Dinner was nice. If there is a positive side in your visits to the Marine HQ, besides the thousands of berry you are paid every time you successfully carry out an assignment, is the possibility to visit the city's establishments, among which many world-class restaurants; after all, Admirals cannot always dine in the mess hall, and while you'd be content to taste your island's local cuisine for the rest of your days, sometimes it's nice to have a little variety.

Now, your belly pleasantly full, you are sitting cross-legged on the bed in the inn room you have booked for the night, still busy polishing your weapons, like you do at least once a week. A few of them (a couple of revolvers, customized to hold up eight cartridges instead of six; a carbine with a barrel longer than your leg, that you took as a souvenir from the last man you killed; an ancient varmint rifle you regularly use to hunt larger preys than badgers and boars; and your personal favourite, a beautiful, muzzleloading derringer, your name engraved on the ivory butt, that you always hide under your pillow before going to sleep) are neatly arranged on the duvet in front of you, waiting for their turn. You are singing softly under your breath as you clean the barrel of a gun from the drops of blood left by your latest quarry, when an unexpected noise comes to disturb your concentration: a discreet, soft but resolute, knocking on the door.

You haven't told him what inn you're staying in, nor were you thinking about your discussion at the Marine HQ. Still, you immediately know who it is, as sure as you are of your own name, and when you stand from the bed, the way your hand immediately moves to grasp the derringer is more out of habit than because of a potential danger, and the way your legs are suddenly shaking might be because you stood all of a sudden after more than an hour spent cross-legged, or maybe not...

You force yourself to cross the room. "Who is it?" you ask in a deliberately questioning tone. You would recognize the firm, vaguely husky voice filtering from the other side of the door everywhere, even without the soft whisper of the name of his owner. A moment later you have pulled the handle towards you, and you and Mihawk are face to face, again after just a few hours, but suddenly you feel, and he looks, as if it everything had changed - as if you had.

"Hello."

"Good evening." Mihawk greets you; he is not smiling - if he ever did, you think, the world would probably stop turning on its axis "Is it too late? Am I disturbing you?"

"Of course not; please, come in."

He looks around him as you close the door, unhurriedly examining the weapons on the bed, the folded clothes on the tiny desk, the boots you have taken off as soon as you returned in a corner; and then he looks at you, and for a moment you forget how to breathe.

You feel his gaze on the back of your head as you retrieve your weapons from the bed and neatly place them on the desk, except for the derringer, which is simply moved to the bedside table; you haven't been anywhere, not even in the privacy of your own room at home, without a loaded gun within easy reach ever since you were ten, and you don't intend to start now.

"Please, make yourself comfortable." you invite him, and a moment later Mihawk is sitting next to you on the bed, Yoru resting against the wall, and you feel yourself smiling softly at him, still unbelieving you are actually here - with him.

As you dined (and wined; you immediately stop drinking alcohol after one of your trysts, well aware of the dangers for the baby you each time hope has been conceived in your womb, but the only silver lining to getting your period once more is that you can start again, if only to drown your sorrows) you had started regretting involving Mihawk in your plan. While it is true that you're tired of sleeping with men you don't even know, much less like, and that any child would be lucky to inherit his gifts, the choice of an acquaintance as a donor is potentially even more complicated; first of all, he is aware of what you plan on doing, which means that it will be next to impossible to fully exclude him from your child's life, should the need arose. One of the reasons you are an excellent mercenary is that you are resilient and stubborn enough to follow your quarry to the other end of the world and back, without giving up until your bullet is in their brain or heart and their bounty in your pocket, but you know no one and nothing, barring perhaps death, could ever keep Mihawk away from something he is keen on. You are more than willing to let him be part of his child's life, and you don't think he would ever hurt them, but still, who knows what could happen...

And then, there is another reason, one it is hard to explain logically. What had become as a simple business proposal (this is what you had intended it to be when you spoke to him, you could swear it on your mother's life) has quickly become something else, something more delicate and less rational, all of it in the few minutes you and Mihawk spent discussing it, and then later you couldn't help reflecting about it, wondering what he thought about your proposal and whether he would accept it, as you enjoyed your dinner.

Having a child with Mihawk... and more specifically, Mihawk putting a child inside you. You have forgotten (it has been a mistake, a simple and natural failure to recall a relatively small detail during an already complex discussion. You didn't do it on purpose!) to tell him there is no need for the two of you to sleep together, artificial insemination is a common occurrence nowadays and the doctors on your island are more than capable. It would be much easier the other way, but honestly, you hadn't meant to suggest... to give him the impression that you wanted to...

You chided yourself for your forgetfulness, in case that was actually a dealbreaker for him and Mihawk would not think to propose a less invasive procedure himself, and then... and then it was as if you couldn't stop thinking about it, thinking about him... and how it would be, what it would feel like. You'd have nothing against it... quite the opposite, actually, you realized as you emptied the wine carafe on your table and asked the waiter for another.

Mihawk is an attractive man. Extremely attractive, actually, especially if one looks beyond the menacing look, deadly reputation, and the huge sword on his back (or, if one is actually attracted by that sort of man. You might.. not not be.) to notice his elegant and athletic figure, the chiseled features of his face, the well-styled beard and hair... even his eyes are exceptionally beautiful, that deep, penetrating yellow gaze that actually reminds you of a bird of prey. You have no idea whether he has a partner or not, but you'd be ready to bet he doesn't lack in admirers... even though approaching him would require no small amount of courage.

You have known him since you were barely more than a girl, and met him regularly for years, and you have never thought about him like that, never even realized how handsome he is. Or rather, you were aware of the fact (after all, you are not blind!) but somehow subconsciously, never paying attention to the fact. You have already slept with many partners you were not attracted to and you could easily do it again, Mihawk' strong body and swoon-worthy face change nothing, but... but...

Who knows what kind of lover he is, and he would be with you. Generous, attentive to his partner's pleasure as well as and maybe even before his, or egotistical, the sort of man who doesn't even look at you in the eyes and tries to avoid even kissing you? What is his favourite position? Your guess would be something that allows him to be the dominant part in the rapport, given his forceful personality and no-nonsense attitude, but for so many people the face they show to the world is different from the way they live their intimacy, and maybe when he is with a partner (someone he trusts, someone he can be himself when he is with... why were you suddenly picturing yourself in that role?!) Mihawk likes to surrender control, to relax and let someone else take care of and decide for him. If he is with a woman (again, in the thoughts that had quickly become a full-blown fantasy, not simply any woman) does he like to be ridden, or to push her against a wall and lift her legs around his hips? Does he like to receive oral? Or... or... to give it? Does he grunt, moan, sigh, scream, his partner's name or to express his pleasure, or is he silent just like his normal taciturnity would suggest...? What does his body look like, under the elegant but austere clothes he favours? What does his...?

This, and much more, is what you couldn't help reflecting about at dinner, and then during the little walk you took to return to the inn, and even later, as you killed time with the upkeep of your weapons, those thoughts persisted in your mind, so much that you started fearing you wouldn't be able to fall asleep... or that you would go from thinking to dreaming about him.

Is this due simply to your proposal, and the fact that you did ask him to get you pregnant? After all there already is an emotional, no matter how distant, bond between the two of you, and you're still a sort-of-young woman with a heart and not a stone in her chest. Or were these feelings already part of you, hidden until you had reason to reflect on the fact that this business deal could actually turn out to be much more pleasant, not to mention complicated, than you had thought...?

Whatever the truth may be, the man who is the source, and the cause, of your emotional turmoil is now sitting next to you, on your bed, to further discuss your proposal, and no matter how many times you have risked your life since you were just a girl, no matter the coldbloodedness you have acquired during your years as a mercenary, no matter how many men you have slept with since you were sevevnteen, you are trembling, like a young girl before her first kiss, and suddenly you are not sure what would be better, if he refused your proposal... or if he accepted it.

Because of the baby, and not only that.

You have remained lost in your thoughts for several minutes, which is perhaps deplorable when someone has come to talk to you, but Mihawk seems fine with your silence; actually, he looks as pensive as you feel.

"I thought about your... proposal." he finally says "And I'm willing to accept it, provided you agree with my conditions. I'll give you a baby, or at least I'll do my best trying."

A hundred other men would have accompanied those words with a saucy look; a thousand others would have blushed, or stammered, or betrayed embarrassment due to the delicate, intimate nature of the deal they are accepting. Not Dracule Mihawk; he looks as rational and dispassionate as if he were buying an umbrella during a sudden downpour to discard it as soon as it stops raining, something he needs to do but he is relatively unconcerned about. And once more, you're not completely sure how that makes you feel.

What you know, is the answer he deserves. "Thank you. I... Thank you so much. I am truly and deeply grateful, you don't know how much this matters to me." you say; you are not stammering, but you know he can hear the depth of the emotions filling your heart in your voice: happiness, gratitude, relief, and trepidation. All he can do is try, there is no guarantee he can actually get you pregnant, and the list of failed attempts you have left behind you is as long as your arm, but still, you have a good feeling about it... and even if the two of you failed, you feel suddenly sure you won't consider it a wasted effort "You spoke about conditions. Tell me everything."

Mihawk's first request is to keep his involvement in the conception of your child a secret; in other words, nobody has to know he is the one who got you pregnant, not even the child themself, at least for a while. "Even though I am technically an ally of the World Government now, I have a certain number of enemies in the world, people who could try to hurt me or lure me out through those closest to me. I have no doubt you would do everything you can to protect your child, but I'd feel safer if no one knew. Unless, of course, this would be cause of... embarrassment for you, on your island..."

"It won't be." you assure him; many at home will undoubtedly be curious about the identity of your child's father, but the law says your heir must be a child of your blood, without any particular requirement about the other parent, so that won't make any difference "I promise I'll keep it secret, if you wish. Anything else?"

Mihawk's second request is even simpler: for you to immediately tell him whether you are pregnant or not, as soon as you know for sure. He is a patient man, but since the matter you are discussing about is particularly delicate, he'd rather not be left wondering.

"Of course. It will take about a month, you can probably guess why; should I miss my period, I'll go to my doctor, and then I'll inform you of the results, whatever they are."

"Very well."

Silence falls between the two of you, and you're suddenly aware of the still purely platonic, but somehow compelling intimacy surrounding you: you're alone, for the first time in the many years of your acquaintance, sitting on a bed, discussing about matters that concern you both deeply. Mihawk looks as relaxed and in control as ever, so maybe for him this is simply a favour he is doing you and an investment that could come in handy one day, or maybe not, you think as you search for something, for an emotion of any kind, in his beautiful yellow eyes, and could swear you actually find it, maybe that is simply a facade he is used to present to the world, and in the privacy of his heart, he feels exactly as you do...

"Anything else?"

"Not on my part, no. I'm sure you will be an excellent mother, and I don't need to ask you to take care of them. I... still haven't decided how involved I will be in the child's life, I hope this is not a problem."

It isn't, since you will be happy with whatever he decides to do, as long as he does not object to you raising the child on your island.

"So... shall we?" Mihawk asks; the flash of emotion in his gaze is brief, but you see it (maybe he has let you?) and a smile blossoms on your lips.

"We shall."

You quickly take off your shoes, while Mihawk stands to take his hat and then his coat off, leaving them neatly placed on a chair.

"I forgot to tell you." you begin once more, after more than one silent moment spent staring at his naked back "We don't necessarily have to... to do it the old-fashioned way, if you'd rather not. We could... go to a doctor..."

Mihawk grunts as he bends to unbuckle his boots; again, you find it impossible to avert your gaze. "I will not give a stranger a vial of my seed, as if I were a stud bull." he states "It is barbaric. There is nothing wrong with the natural method."

You silently agree. A moment later, he's back on the bed; he lets you look a him, and he looks back while you unhurriedly take off your dress, exposing the bra and underskirt you wear underneath.

"Very beautiful." Mihawk says, as if he were talking more to himself than to you; you smile.

"You'll make me blush."

"You are an attractive woman, I sincerely doubt I am the first man to pay you a compliment. The other... donors you selected, for example. I'm sure all of them felt exceptionally lucky."

There is no trace of mocking in his voice, let alone of blame; still, those words are enough to make your smile disappear. "They did not matter."

"While I do?"

"You do. You know you do. We have known each other for so many years, and I know we are not... friends, exactly, and I could always close my eyes and think about something else, but you don't know how... how dehumanazing it is to... well, to feel nothing for the other person..."

Mihawk nods. "I know the feeling." he says, and then, in response to your incredulous look: "I have been young as well; and I've made mistakes, like everyone."

"I'm sure you were the only one to think so."

"Hmmm..."

For a whole minute, you are both content looking at each other. Finally, Mihawk's raised hand brushes against your face, and you close your eyes, savouring the warmth of his fingers against your cheek. You take his hand, and let it guide you as you stand, close the brief distance between you, and rest both of yours on his shoulders to stabilize yourself as you sit on his lap, your thighs open to the sides of his clothed legs.

Mihawk's eyes move on your body; you can't stop looking at him either, and so you feel, rather than see, his strong and elegant hands rest on your hips, gently caressing them above the light fabric of your underskirt. You can feel his breath on your chest; he can feel you hold yours when you rest your hand on his cheek and then let it slip down his body, the well-toned physique (he is much less burly than other pirates and fighters you know, but his muscles are solid and defined, as you expected... and even a little more), the pale, smooth skin, except for a thin line of hair on his lower abdomen that your fingers follow down to the waistband of his pants, and that is when you hear him grunt.

"Shall I stop?"

"Do not mock me, woman..." he growls, but he's enjoying your ministrations and doesn't bother to hide it. "Take this off, now."

This is your bra, which you obediently remove; you sigh, kissing his dark hair and temples and any inch of him you can reach, as Mihawk, whose arms have circled your waist and who is now holding you tight against his body, begins licking your chest, the sensation of his lips on your skin sweet and delicious beyond words. Soon, you are moaning his name, gently rocking against the turgescense under you, and you hear him whisper your name before he quickly but gently turns, pushing you on your back on the duvet while he kneels above you.

He sighs, relief evident in his tone, while you relieve him from his pants, lowering the fabric to his knees. He returns the favour lifting the hem of your underskirt, but when you move to take off your panties

"No." he stops you, gently resting his hand on yours "Please, keep them on."

A minute later you are locked in an embrace, your leg lifted around his hips, Mihawk's hand caressing you between your legs, gentle, confident, inexorable, until he feels you are ready for him, and he shifts to press the centre of his body against yours.

You lock eyes; for a brief, precious moment, it is as if the distance between the two of you had melted like snow under the sun, leaving you the two parts of a single, hot and quivering being.

"I don't know if I can actually... do what you want." Mihawk whispers; his hips press against yours with the desperation of a man living his last night, but he sounds regretful, as if saddened by the possibility of disappointing you "I... want to, but..."

Of all the emotions you expected to feel for Dracule Mihawk, tenderness was the last of the list; still, you do, a sudden, powerful surge of empathy that makes you desire this night would never end... and that it weren't your last, as well as your first.

"An attempt." you murmur, before claiming his mouth in a new kiss "That is all I ask."

He gives you three.

*****

You wake early on the following morning (like you expected Mihawk to do as well, since he doesn't seem like the kind of guy who likes to sleep in; on the other hand, you did exhaust him last night...), but you linger a bit before getting up, as you observe the man sound asleep next to you. He is lying on his side towards you, an hand hidden under the pillow, the other reaching out towards you.

He is so handsome - no, he is rapturously beautiful like this, tranquil, at ease, not exactly smiling but serene, as if he were in the middle of a beautiful dream; the azure sheet covers him up to his hips, letting the first sun rays of the day caress the naked skin of his arms and chest.

You feel as if you could spend the whole day like this, just admiring him; but sooner or later he will wake up, and then you could stay in bed for a little more, attempting again or just cuddling, savouring that new intimacy that feels so natural, so genuine and true, even though nothing in your relationship until last night could suggest this could be born from it. But it has, and it is a gift you will keep in your heart forever... as a cherished, now-distant memory; because no matter how desperately you wish you could stay in that little paradise you have created together for a little more, you can't... and, in your heart you know for sure (or you think you do; the truth couldn't be more different, but you haven't learned to read his heart, nor he to express his feelings. Yet.) Mihawk doesn't want to, no matter how enthusiastically he made good on his promise last night. You didn't even know a man could last so long, and hearing him growl your name was enough to push you over the brink...

Still. He has done what he had promised you, and expecting more, expecting other, is naive and even dangerous, because the last thing you need now is to have your heart broken. You know Mihawk respects you and maybe even considers you a sort-of-friend, and not to brag, but you are confident you have given him the best night of his life... but letting that rapport evolve, pursue a relationship, whether romantic or even simply sexual? That's another thing altogether, one you know he won't be interested in.

(Again, you don't, and he would).

You shouldn't even consider thoughts like these. Since when have you thought about Mihawk like that? You are well aware of how attractive he is and are genuinely fond of him, yes, but when did you start wanting more than a casual friendship with him? Probably you don't, not really, it's just that the amazing night you have spent together and all the talking about the baby made your most emotional and romantic side emerge, as if you were still the young girl who thought two people could not experience pleasure, let alone reproduce, without being madly in love with each other. The truth is obviously different, and in a few days, maybe even as early as tomorrow, you will realize how naive and shallow your desires are, born from passion and the hope to see your dream come true. You don't really want him, you just... think you do, because you shared something amazing last night and you know he'd be an excellent father for your child. That's all; and he wouldn't want you in any case. You did what you agreed to, and now you better leave as soon as you can, to avoid the classic, unavoidable embarrassment of the morning after.

This is why when finally Mihawk wakes up, twenty minutes later, he finds you already clothed and ready to go, busy sliding your weapons in their holsters or hiding then under your clothes, your faithful derringer by your side once more.

"Hi." you murmur softly as you sit on the edge of the bed, your hands naturally, instinctively finding the one he has moved towards yours "Are... are you ok?"

"I am. You?"

"Fine. It... it was nice, wasn't it?"

He looks at you, veguely ironic; do you really need to ask?, his lovely yellow eyes seem to ask, and you can't help a small laugh.

"You are leaving, I see." Mihawk adds after a moment, his tone expressionless. He is looking at you as if your clothes were still scattered on the floor, just like he did last night; he sees you blush, and he smirks, but after a moment he turns serious as usual - even a little more sombre, you would swear.

"I am; after all Garp gave me a new assignment yesterday. The first ship for my next destination leaves in half an hour, but you can stay, if you want, I have rented the room until midday."

"There is no need, I have things to do as well."

He gets up, without bothering to hide what you have had time to look at, and to touch and to kiss, as much as you wanted last night, and retrieves his clothes. He has turned his back to you, and you wonder if it is deliberate, because he has already lost any interest he could have in you, because he is already regretting what you did together, or maybe because he is grappling with emotions he doesn't know how to process, and trying to find the words to express them, to ask you...

No. It's impossible. Stop thinking about it and focus on your next assignment. You did everything you could, now you can only pray it worked.

Five minutes, and you're both ready to go; you look at Mihawk as he places Yoru on his back, and you wring your hands, suddenly shier and more unsure than you have ever been in his presence.

"Mihawk?"

He doesn't answer, but he turns, his face slightly tilted on one side in an inquiring manner. He looks so much like a bird when he does that, you think, amused; like a bird of prey... a beautiful, deadly hawk.

"I... I wanted to thank you."

"There is no need..."

"Yes, there is." you quickly interrupt him; you need to tell him, and you need to do it now, otherwise you will lose courage "I... I have been wanting to become a mother for a long time; it's the thing I want the most in the world, and not simply because my island needs an heir for when I'll be dead. It's... it's more important than I could explain, and I've been disappointed so many times and there is nothing I can do but hope and pray, but... call me crazy if you want, but I have a good feeling about this. About you. I... I think we did it, even if it will take time before I know for sure. And I'll be happy to have your child."

Mihawk nods. He is standing right in front of you, close enough he could touch you without even reaching out, but suddenly it is as if you were standing at the opposite points of the Great Line, the unmade bed next to you a suddenly uncomfortable remainder of your nightly activities. "Remember your promise."

"Of course; I will inform you as soon as I have seen the doctor, whatever the result."

"Good."

Pause. "(name)..."

"Yes?" you ask, intimately happy to break that uncomfortable silence, the first in the many years since your first meeting. This is something you have always liked about Mihawk; with him, you never feel the need to talk, but you can feel content with his solitary presence next to you. Still, it has never been so hard to say good-bye... "What is it?"

He hesitates (something you are probably the first to witness, or at least to live to tell) as if unsure about what he wants to say, or about the words to use; he looks at you, and you hold your breath, because for a split second you are sure, you just know, that what he is about to say will change everything, because it is not all in your mind, something has changed, after last night or because that moment of intimacy made you both realize your bond was much deeper than you knew...

"I need to give you my number. To call me."

Disappointment explodes inside you. You feel... mortified, as if you had ended up naked in the middle of the public square; your little infatuation will without a doubt disappear in three days at most, but for now, it hurts as if you had been stabbed. Stupid, romantic girl, an unpleasant voice whispers in your ear; what did you expect? Did you really think he could care about you that way?

"Oh. Oh, right..."

A moment later, a slip of paper with Mihawk's contacts is safe in your pocket, and he is neatly placing his feathered hat on his head.

"It is. Be safe. I mean, I know I don't need to tell you..."

"You don't." he easily recognizes "And I don't need to tell you, but I will; remember that perhaps now you have someone else to think about as well. Good-bye, (name)."

A smile, small but sincere, and a brush of fingers against yours, accompany that greeting a moment before Mihawk leaves, and even though you awoke first and meant to depart before he could notice your absence, you are still there, alone in the sunlit room, suddenly too saddened and wistful to think about the child who might be growing in your womb.

[the-ellia-west]

Servant’s Tears

Alkain Short Story 1/3

It's a little long... sorry Lovelies <3

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

Pherea sighed, wiping sweat from her brow as her eyes found the large clock tower, a hundred thoughts swirling in her mind at once. But the crack of a whip snapped her attention back to her work. 

“Mamá, can I help?” A voice beside her startled her into dropping the cart with a loud crash.

“Ey! That’s expensive, slave!”

“Kha’ven, My apologies sir.” Pherea bowed her head as her son dropped to his knees, eyes darting to his mother’s bristling tail as he hung his head, his own tail coiling around his legs.

“Sorry mamá, I didn’t mean anything…”

“It’s fine Kain, you don’t have to help me, your portion is done.” She knelt, lifting the cart with all four arms, trembling under the effort before a sudden shift lifted the weight from her shoulders. Pherea’s eyes widened as she turned to her son, who now shook in her place.

“I can do it mamá.” He forced a smile, and she pressed against it.

“No, we work together.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she shot him a look and he shut up quick.

The two worked together for a few more minutes before the slave master shouted the eight-year-old boy to another job, leaving Pherea alone to do all of the heavy lifting herself. It surprised her how strong he was getting these days. He reminded her of his father, a strong, valiant worker. He would have made a good man if he’d had anyone other than her as a mother. After his father had died in a mining accident, the rest of their split debt had been dumped onto Pherea and her son, doubling their work time from ten years to twenty. Alkain would be almost grown by the time they were let off.  

Perhaps she could get him out. But again, her thoughts cut off at the crack of a whip beside her ear. “If you don’t start workin’ woman, I’ll ‘ave yer ‘ead!” The Elf flinched away from the whip and lifted the cart, stumbling as she dragged it behind her. Ever since the cave-in she’d struggled to breathe while working, and today had done a real number on her. But she continued to work, knowing that the edge of the whip would be worse than anything she could reasonably inflict on herself.

Time passed slowly, until Pherea set down the final cart, and stepped toward the slave master to tell him she was finished, breaths coming slowly and difficult as her chest tightened. But halfway to the slave master, she tripped on a rock and crumpled. A shout pulled her eyes up. “Mamám!” Alkain dropped the boxes he was carrying, the wood splintering on the stones as he rushed to her side. “Mamá, are you okay?” 

“Kain… No!” She pushed herself away from the ground as the Slavemaster marched over to them and wrenched the boy from his mother. Both shouted for one another as the slave master forced Alkain toward the other side of the field. Pherea pulled herself to her feet and ran after them as best as she could. She cried out and ran for her son, just reaching him as the whip whistled through the air and a rip of flesh shot a cry of agony between them as Pherea fell back to the ground. The slave master frowned. “Get out of the way, ya stupid wretch!”

Pherea’s hand flew to her face, blood trickling through her fingers “Ah…Ugh… I… I’ll take his punishment…”

The Slavemaster scowled. “Fine. Be my guest.”

“Mamám! No! No! Don’t! Please! Mamá!” Alkain pulled away from the man holding him, but a hand wrenched him to the slave master’s side, the man holding him turned his mother onto her knees and he watched, trembling as the man ripped the back of her shirt, revealing the binds and the whip slashed into her back, cutting a deep scarlet gouge. He flinched, two arms covering his eyes, the other two held back by the slavemaster's second-in-command, who wrenched his other hands away from his eyes as the second strike from the whip came crashing down on her back. 

A horrified squeak escaped Alkain's lips as his mother screamed, panting as blood ran down her back, dripping down her lower arms in thick streams. Another slash sent Alkain struggling in his captors grip, and three more earned him a slap across the face. “That’ll teach ya, insolent woman. It’ll be more next time if ya don’t leave the boy to ‘is punishment. And you, boy. It’ll be you next time if ya ever pull a stunt like that again, understood?”

Alkain shrank away from the slave master, his terrified agreement drowned out by the tolling of the bell, striking the end of their field shift. “Mamá…” He reached out to her, and Pherea let her son help her to her feet as the slave masters cast then to the side and left. Alkain supported his mother as the slavemaster went to converse with a shady figure. But he shook off his curiosity as he and his mother shuffled toward the house, blood trickling down her face from the first strike she had taken to protect him, every step weaker than the last.

But as they reached the door, the head maid startled. “Pherea! What happened to you?”

“She… she took the whip for me.” Alkain hung his head. 

“Alkain! What is wrong with you? You slack off on work and get extra hours for your poor mamám yesterday, and now this!” The head maid cuffed the boy around the ear, “Go, quickly. Get her into a supportive position, I'll be right there. Now scram!”

“Yes ma’am.” Alkain helped his mother toward the servant’s house, praying with every breath she would be alright, scrambling for any way to help her as the head servant and a medic tore him away from his mother and took him from the room. 

Pherea woke hours later to find her son asleep beside her, tear tracks staining his cheeks. She pushed herself away from the bed, waking him with the movement.

“Mamám?”

“Hey, it’s okay Alkain… go back to sleep.”

“But I don’t want to go to sleep. I like talking to you. I'm scared Mamám, I'm scared I'll lose you… like Papá.” He rested his head against her shoulder, and she ruffled his short sandy golden curls, motioning for him to sit beside her. 

The small Elf smiled and crawled up onto the mattress beside her as she hugged him close. “It's not your fault. You did well. Thank you for helping me Alkain.”

“But I hurt you Mamám-”

“No. It wasn't your fault. You weren't the one holding the whip. I will always protect you, I promise. Listen to me Alkain, I love you, and that will never change.”

The eight-year-old elf nestled his face into her top shoulder, and sniffed softly, tears staining her shirt. “Okay Mamá… I love you too.”

…

Pherea woke the next morning to the bell’s toll, shouting of the slave masters rousing her son. Alkain sat up, rubbing his eyes as he braced himself against the mattress.

“Alright Kain. Come on. It's time to get up.” Pherea ran a hand through her son's curls, and Alkain stood.

“Mamá, we can't! Does it still hurt?” Alkain grabbed onto the side of her skirt.

“No, I'll be okay Alkain.” She rustled his hair again and scooped him into her arms as someone rapped on the door.

“Oi! Get up! Or we're gonna go to the ‘ead of ‘ouse and ‘ave ya executed!”

“Alright Kain, get dressed please. We have to go.” 

“Yes Mamám!” The young elf wrestled on his work clothes and scampered after his mother as she lined up straight in the row of workers, wincing with every movement.

The Slavemaster smirked as he saw her and sent her and Alkain to dig up potatoes near the house. The little elf boy frowned as he saw his mother’s pain, and dug as hard as he could, using all four arms for maximum efficiency so that she wouldn’t have to do so much work. But then, a sharp whistle halted him in the middle of his work and the cracking whip caught his mother’s eyes as sparks flared out of the corner of her eyes and shouts rang across the fields. “RUN! FIRE!”

Pherea’s eyes widened as she spotted theflames consuming the piles of crates and she grabbed Alkain’s closest wrist, pulling him to his feet and flung him in front of her as she slowed, doubling over as red seeped through the bodice of her dress. An unspoken dread filled the air as the crackling of flames drowned out any natural sound and thick black colums of smoke blotted out the sun, raining ash over the servants like snow from hell.

“Mamám?” Alkain skidded to a stop just at the corner as the fire reached the house. He rushed back to help her, dropping to his knees as he tried to pull her up, but just as Pherea stumbled to her feet, the fire consumed a window, and the ground beneath their feet rumbled. The older elf then took the best option she could, knowing she wouldn’t be able to run and flung herself around her son.

  And then the world exploded.

Large chunks of rock, splatters of blood, and bits of flesh crackled and sizzled in the flames as shrapnel flew. Alkain yelped and tugged his mother back, just as a large shard of twisted metal and glass pierced straight through her neck, snapping her jugular vein in two. “Alkain…” She crumpled, and he just managed to catch her as fiery splinters of wood and stone sliced into his skin. Her hand cupped his cheek as blood sprayed from her neck, more of it than he ever would have thought possible as her eyes glazed. “Run… go… hide… you are… everything… I…” She trailed off, her hand slipped from his face, and she died.

“Mamá? Mamám! No! No, no, no! Mamám, please!” Alkain clung to his mother’s corpse, begging it for warmth as the foundations of the buildings cracked and boomed into large pillars of flame. Pherea’s blood dripped from his skin and soaked his shirt as the last of it trickled beneath his fingernails and he buried his face into her body, nuzzling as close as her could get. “Mamám…”

But as he laid there, sobbing into her body, she fulfilled her promise to him one last time, corpse shielding him from the sharp objects and smoke long enough for the what to fade from her and Alkain to get his bearings, remember her final words, and run for his life.

(If you made it to the end of this short story, Please comment. Please, just so I know you read it, and also so I know if you liked it or not? Thank you <3 :])

|Part 1 (Here) | Part 2 | Part 3 (To come)

@supercimi @leahnardo-da-veggie @aesthetic-writer18 @that-weird-kid-from-your-school @thecrazyalchemist

@fantasy-things-and-such @nkikio @urnumber1star @darkandstormydolls @smudged-red-ink

@artsandstoriesandstuff @stars-forever @phoenixradiant @vyuntspakhkite-l-darling @avidreadersandemergingwriters

@starslide @lunaeuphternal @rivenantiqnerd @aalinaaaaaa @ramwritblr

@savepoint-has-died @roleplay-fanatic @bbatcat @thelazywitchphotographer @ryahisbored

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@taleweaver-ramblings @bigwipscholar @themortalityofundyingstars @starmanbutitsregulusblack @sunglasses-in-the-bentley

@seliyareine @confused-romantic @blue-kyber @bloodmoonloveletter @bluektw

I Love you guys so much <3

[beargyufairy]

NaLu Headcanon Pt. 1

Throughout the series, Lucy is shown with different colored bows/hair ties that she uses to tie her hair up and often match with her outfits. It’s her signature style (and she totally owns it!!) I think that if Natsu sees some hair ties during a job he might buy it for her. He probably thinks of a color or shade that she might not have and get that one. I think this is so cute!!

He would also be the type of boyfriend that wears Lucy’s scrunchies on his wrist. One reason is because she might need it during a mission/battle (ex. During Tenrous Island Arc, Lucy tied her hair up when Natsu and she reformed their team to fight against Kain). Another reason is because he just likes it. Natsu is shown wearing his single sleeve vest and one wristband. Instead of the wristband he might just have Lucy’s hair tie (or the hair tie and the wristband). I also have a feeling that if Lucy has a bow on, he might carry one around that matches the one she is wearing. He just wants the world to know that Lucy is his and he is hers.

On the side note, she has so many colors!! I couldn’t add them all because of the limit on how many images can be added! But which one is your favorite?! I personally like the purple one from the Sun Village arc and the ocean green one from the final arc. That’s probably because I really like the two pigtail hairstyle on her!! ❤️

What do you think?!

[danvolodar]

Pathologic and the Town's Russianness: 3

A close continuation of the previous part, this one will address a much narrower issue: the forms of address used in the Town.

I originally intended to write this up in the previous part, since signs of respect and politeness are closely linked to social class, but that part turned out long as it is. Still, keep that idea in mind when reading further.

If ever you tried to learn Russian, even the most basic parts, you must be aware it has two different pronouns for "you": a polite one (vy) and a familiar one (ty). It is of course not a unique feature for an Indo-European language: it's called "T-V distinction" and it's encountered in many other languages of the same group (and many other languages have their own ways to differentiate pronouns for the same purpose).

Not to send my non-Russian readers to read a whole wikipedia page, the basic idea behind the usage is the following. Vy is used for someone you are expected to respect: those older than you or in higher social position. Ty is used for subordinates, those younger than you, and close family (so it's still the one you'd use when addressing your grandma, for instance, even if she's much older than you - but that bit changed over time).

Closely linked to that is the usage of particular name forms. A Russian name consists of a given name, a patronymic (the given name of the person's father in a special form, normally with an -ovich or -vich suffix attached), and a surname. So the Haruspex' full name would be Artemy Isidorovich Burakh. This system has been in use without much change for centuries - there were calls to change it during the Revolution, but in the end in remained unchanged (in reality - in Disco Elysium, if you remember, the Deserter has a matronymic: Iosef Lilianovich Dros). The polite way to address someone is with their name and patronymic, used for someone you'd use vy with. Using simply the given name is less polite (although it can be used both with ty and vy); and then finally there's the dimunitive name form used for close friends and family (so, the grandma from the example above you'd call "baba Katya", not "Ekaterina Matveevna").

Keeping all that in mind, let us now briefly examine the ways those conventions are used in Pathologic.

And it's going to be real brief because they aren't.

Or rather, the different name forms aren't used in their entirety. Characters remarkably rarely address each other by name, all in all, but when they do, it's either by the given name, or by the nickname. Artemy has to speak with a few figures of authority, such as Big Vlad, Georgiy Kain or Alexander Saburov, and even for the ones he has no reasons to despise (well, Georgiy out of that list, I guess), he never uses a patronymic. Similarly, when talking with close friends (such as Rubin, Lara, Grief, or Dankovsky, depending on your interpretations), not a single time any of them use the dimunitives - even Grief, who otherwise has very casual, ostentatiously casual even, speech patterns.

Dimunitives also aren't used when talking with kids, but that can be explained away by none of them carrying names rather than nicknames. I believe Artemy is only acquainted with two kids with names that have well-known dimunitives in Russian: Capella and Maria Kaina. Needless to say, he uses dimunitives for neither.

T-V distinction, on the other hand, is used in the Russian version, and it carries a bit of meaning then. For instance, Saburov uses vy with Artemy at all times, other than when he thinks him a patricide and orders him jailed (and Artemy returns the favour, using ty when asking if he's delirious making that decision). Similarly, Aglaya and Artemy start out addressing each other with vy, then move to ty without discussing that. Georgiy and Artemy use vy for each other at all times, even if it would be acceptable to address the latter with ty since he's much younger. Artemy uses vy with Big Vlad, and he reciprocates, but adds "my boy" each time so it sounds rather sarcastic, and he switches to ty casually when the situation calls for that - same as Artemy does when accusing the man of treating the Kin like cattle.

Outside of the ruling families, the Haruspex only addresses Block, Lyuricheva and Dankovsky with vy, and he switches to ty half-way with the latter (which can be seen as them becoming friends, at last). It can be seen as a reflection of their social status and class, as discussed in the previous part.

But the funny thing is, almost nothing of that makes it into the English translation. There are two exceptions I know. First, where Big Vlad uses ty to address Artemy in Russian, in English he moves from the patronizing "my boy" to downright insulting "boy". Second, Dankovsky and Burakh discuss changing the pronouns used: the Bachelor says the Haruspex can use ty with him. The translation plays around it: Artemy swears, excuses himself, and Daniil says he has no need to limit himself in his presence.

I think it a very rare case of successfully translating the meaning in what otherwise is a translation that mangles the initial work badly.

So, summing this part up: the game uses none of the different terms of address found in Russian in its dialogs if it's played in English; it only uses one modality of the two commonly used if played in Russian.

[rubyreduji]

svt as spider-men

watched spiderverse and got inspired 🤩🙏 also idc if this isn't how the spider-verse works or these spider-sonas already exist these are MY headcanons

SEUNGCHEOL spider-man

he is our classic peter parker type spiderman

doesn't have any special powers outside of the usual spider-man powers

very dependable and is a good leader to the other spider-people

JEONGHAN halo-spider

don't be fooled by the name, he's anything but an angel

his powers wouldn't be nearly as effective if not paired with his wit

is an actual menace to his villains and the police (good)

he can spit acid and is not afraid to do it

JOSHUA gentle-spider

he got his name from the sweet way he saves his city, but he just doesn't show citizens his full powers

don't get on his bad side because he won't hold back

he can use the stick of his fingers to burn his opponent's skin or even rip it off (the mark of kaine)

has sharp barbed hairs that grow out of his skin that he can release to harm others

JUNHUI moon-spider

has inpeccable night vision and just overall heightened senses

works better at night time because he becomes more powerful when the moon is out

sleeps a lot during the day due to his high activity levels at night

can send cold shocks through his opponent's body by touching them

SOONYOUNG spider-stripes

the spider that bit him wasn't just radioactive but also carrying tiger dna in it

so he's now part human, part spider, part tiger (and he loves it)

he has large sharp teeth that carry spider venom

he also has retractable claws that are a mix of tiger and spider claws

WONWOO sea-spider

has the ability to walk on water and breath underwater

you know when spider webs get all dewy? he can do that naturally and uses it to effect sun and light reflection

can't exactly control water but can manipulate it to help him out in fights

does a lot of computer and "guy in the chair" stuff

JIHOON song-spinner

(like spider-punk) he uses his guitar in battle

uses sound waves to vibrate and attack surrounding objects and opponents

well known in his city for singing while on patrol and even in battle

works on inventing and researching when not patrolling

SEOKMIN web-weaver

excels in weaving webs and web swinging

he's very skilled at trapping

he can do that thing that some spiders do where he can make a glue lasso out of his webs (look it up)

can also glide through the air that people sometimes confuse with flying

MINGYU spider-legs

he really wanted to be cool and as skilled as the others but he's just so clumsy and tends to get caught in his own web (he's working on it okay)

has the electric venom blast that miles morales does, but does not know how to use it in a contained proper way

can sprout four spindly spider legs from his body to give him eight limbs (he doesn't use this a lot bc it freaks people out)

the one thing he is really skilled at is wall climbing and being able to move/climb like a spider

MINGHAO the8 (he gets to keep his name bc how many legs do spiders have? exactly)

excels in stealth due to his camoflauge and inaudibility

he also has super flexibility and can bend his body in all different kinds of ways

so good at not leaving a trace that some people don't even believe he exists

one of the fastest and most agile spider-men there is

SEUNGKWAN spider-boo

really good at mimicing others (both in voice and appearance) and uses that to his advantage in fights

can excrete pheremones that can effect other's emotions

very knowledgable in every other spider-person and their powers

his only downside is he's very talkative and can get a bit hot headed in battle...

VERNON spider-petal

very intune with nature, specifically plants and insects

can communicate with spiders easily

really good at burrowing which doesn't sound like it would come in handy but it has in the most random situations

a really chill spider-man everyone likes him, even his villains

CHAN spider-kid

got bit at a young age and became a prodigy, now that he's older he kind of hates his name but is now branded

like cheol he only has the "normal" powers but he's still one of the best

he's so so so smart and uses his powers in ways people dont normally, he is in the front runnings for best up and coming spider-man

when the other spider-people try and pick on him for being so young he just shows them up in a web swinging contest (he can even beat seokmin)

powers i'm considering as "normal" spider powers: spidey senses, wall climbing, web shooting, renerative healing, toxin immunity, super: strength, speed, stamina, duribility, agility, reflexes, jumping, equiilibrium

[observerkaine]

Another successful victory for the undefeated champion-to-be!

[kairiscorner]

i srsly can't help myself from making these

gojo satoru x filipino reader

• he fucking plays with the damn lato-latos (dk how to pronounce it properly pls help) EVERY DAMN DAY.

• i can imagine he plays with it on his own, while he's watching over his students from outside the barrier when they're on missions, when pissing off nanami, ESPECIALLY AROUND YOU, THE CLICKITY CLACKITING NEVER STOPS AND IT DRIVES YOU INSANE 😭😭😭

• he def listens to iv of spades or itchyworms, if he's feeling dramatic, he'd listen to regine or lea salonga.

• when you came home to him, exhausted and overworked, he turned on the karaoke machine he bought without you knowing and put on "gusto ko nang bumitaw" and sang it from the bottom of his lungs.

• he bought a karaoke machine to impress your relatives, he vibes with the noisiest ones but hates the chattiest ones fr 😭

• he has mastered the art of saying, "putangina niyo !" (it angered your relatives a little at how he says it so casually, without hesitation, but you didn't teach him that–your anger towards work/school/every/anything else did; yasz i swear when mad too ok 🫂)

• he loves mang inasal fr, that's where he hangs out if the kfc is full. if not mang inasal, JOLLIBEE 🫂🫂🫂

• he's a chocnut kid ok.

• he hoardes the chocnut away from you and indulges in it when he knows you're on a diet, HE'D EAT 3 WHOLE ASS PACKS IN FRONT OF YOU SHAMELESSLY.

• he likes the tinikling dance, but he gets sad when he dance to the notes on time, he wanted to know what it was like to get slammed at the ankles by the bamboo :[

• but it's worth it seeing you have fun dancing with him

• he gets scared of the flying cockroaches.

• "mahaaaaaal..." "ipis ba nanaman?" "yes........" "yan kasi, kain ka ng kain ng chocnut sa kwarto, alam mo naman makalat kang kumain hayup ka"

• he calls you the king/queen of the slipper bc you not only use it to slay those wicked cockroaches, you are mighty great at hitting him with it whenever you please :>

• HE ALSO LOVES CALLING YOU "MAHAL", IF NOT MAHAL, IT'S "BEBE KO"

• "mahaaaaal, i'm home", "bebe kooooo, can i have a hug?", "mahaaaaal, what did i do this time?", "bebe kooooo, they were being such putangina fuckers ! how could i nooooooot?"

• he loved kadenang ginto fr, it was too iconic for him. "OH MY GOD KASSIE" = "OH MY GOD MEGUMI" (he relentlessly memes it on megumi bc he can :>)

• surprisingly, he picked up on tagalog really fast. he treats your parents with respect, but he thought to call them "lolo at lola" instead of "ma at pa", he only called them the latter when he overheard your parents complain about how disrespectful that lolo lola thing was to their age 😭😭😭

• he wants to try all your childhood favorite foods, he LOVES TAHO.

• he fucking freaked when team yey had a filipino dub of digimon, he binged that the whole weekend.

• a couple of kids in your barangay challenged him to basketball (bc mf is so tall, they wanted a challenge) AND HE WHOPPED THEIR FUCKING ASSES SO BAD, HE CARRIED HIMSELF 🫂🫂🫂

[fancifulplaguerat]

At last….I have Katerina thoughts……That is. There is consistent reference to the dichotomy of good/evil in Katerina’s character, in her words, how others speak of her, and her narrative position as arbiter between Nina and Victoria. Her character concept states that Katerina previously “served as independent arbiter to opposition of the two Mistresses,” and likewise Lara’s portrait quote: “Who could survive between Nina’s rock and Victoria’s hard place? That’s how the town worked back then—upon this rock Nina was forging it, while Victoria maintained a firm stance to keep it in check; Katerina was the one to ensure the balance was in place.” Katerina’s prior position appears in her philosophy in-game, where she tells Clara that three ends are possible and that while Simon generally bound Utopians and Termites, “I insist that he’s built the town as a triangle… and so I declare loyalty to the third idea—the faith of Humility! I am their Mistress. There’s neither heat nor cold anymore; there is only Earth…” Katerina again identifies herself in between dichotomies, in Town philosophy and earth as opposed to heat and cold. 

I think this connection to good/evil per se first appears in the Bachelor Route, when Katerina tells Daniil “Any conflict that has two sides inevitably turns into a battle of good and evil” and the infamous question she poses to him: “Do you favour good or evil?” Altogether a little precursor to a later delicious dialogue between Katerina and Clara: 

Katerina Saburova: A period of your antagonism with Maria is beginning. Along what lines will it be? Which of you will be the good one, and which one wicked? Will it be up to the Kains once again to determine the meaning of good and evil? How are you to take the good path if Maria doesn't choose the evil one...? Changeling: Why divide everything into good and evil right away? Could that have been your mistake? Our mistake... Katerina Saburova: That was what I thought—when I chose my own dark path... I thought the conflict was not between good and evil, that neither good nor evil existed... That wasn't true! For it is in the nature of humans to translate even a dichotomy of red and green into the language of good battling evil. We are doomed to make choices... Changeling: But did you really choose evil? Katerina Saburova: I now think I did... Nina could control it at the time... and I couldn't. Nor was Nina wearing the black tiara... But don't put your trust in what is more alluring, more attractive! That is usually where evil lies!

To properly analyze this I want to first discuss how Andrey and Lara characterize Katerina’s failed attempt to emulate either Victoria or Nina. Andrey claims, “As the Mistresses were dying, Katerina was throwing herself hither and thither, unable to choose a role; she tried to be Nina and she tried to be Victoria, but neither light nor darkness have worked out for her—she sucks at both.” Lara echoes this claim: “When Victoria died, Katerina rushed to take her place—she was quite afraid of playing games with Mother Darkness by then. The last of the Mistresses was struggling and throwing herself from one extreme to another.” Both dialogues emphasize Katerina’s inability to adhere to either part of the dichotomy, yet other dialogues suggest Katerina favored darkness. Maria claims Katerina “always found evil attractive,” and Lara states that after Nina’s death, “Katerina, who had been inclined towards Darkness before, became the Black Mistress…” The latter of course reinforces Katerina’s response to Clara that she chose evil, but I think Lara/Aspity’s portrait quotes and her character concept again complicate this and. Might I add. Make it far more devastating. 

Aspity describes Katerina as “A queen turned witch. That’s what you get for dabbling with the spirits of the night. After Nina died, Katerina shamelessly rushed to take the place of the Dark Mistress; the burden of caring for the town was Victoria’s […] She got carried away though…” Aspity implies that Katerina became the Dark Mistress only because Victoria was still alive—because there were only two Mistresses, and Victoria was “good,” Katerina must be “evil;” this idea appears again in Katerina asking how Clara can take the good path “if Maria doesn’t choose the evil one.” This makes me wonder: was Katerina truly drawn to Darkness or was she just led to it by virtue of being half of a dichotomy? Her character concept states that Katerina “heartily replaced the infernal Nina. After Victoria’s death, she was left on her own and rushed to become the white Mistress, but it was too late. The evil seeds grew strong roots in her soul.” Which could imply that she *did* favor evil, or suggests her desire to be a proper Mistress (more on that momentarily). The last sentence parallels Aspity’s assertion that Katerina “got carried away” and perhaps Katerina’s own claim that she could not control “evil” as Nina could or Lara saying that Katerina was “afraid of playing games with Mother Darkness” by the time Victoria died.

To me, it feels less like Katerina was always drawn to evil—maybe she was, but the way these quotes describe her, it feels more as though she had to choose evil and was subsumed by it through no fault of her own. The main culprit instead being, of course, the Rat Prophet. The character concept reads: “[Katerina’s] game with the poltergeist called the Rat Prophet, who appeared to her as both her inner voice and a character of prophetic dreams, went too far. The poor woman who wanted to become a Mistress so badly was deceived.” Which contextualizes a line of Katerina’s which obliterates me: “There is nothing to tell. Everything is clear. I never had the power. I am not a true Mistress. I lied… but not for gain. Merely because I wanted so much to be like them. No… wishing for a miracle is not enough to become a miracle-worker…” AGH that last line makes me goddamn throw up blood !!!!! Even more so how her character concept concludes ??? “The Rat Prophet indoctrinated her with the idea that the Town’s demise is inevitable and fighting it would be as pointless as resisting the coming of winter.” TRAGEDY !!!!!!!!

[scarletspider2the2ndpower]

“Down in the Darkness,” Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 1/1963), #401.

Writer: J. M. DeMatteis; Penciler: Mark Bagley; Inker: Larry Mahlstedt; Colorists: Bob Sharen and Salvador Mancha; Letterer: Bill Oakley

[estinininininen]

okay ffiv has obvious themes like brotherhood and forgiveness but so so so many separate parts of ffiv suddenly snap together beautifully if you take the theme of parents and in loco parentis: adoption, guardianship, teachers. people taking responsibility for those younger or weaker. not fully as parents necessarily but what they need in that moment. and how they and the protectee address it when they fail at that duty.

the king, cecil, and kain. cecil remembering the bodies of pacifist mysidians and realizing that's not why he became a dark knight. cid has his own daughter but finds time to check in on cecil, unmoored from his royal foster dad. kain wanting to feel closer to his birth father. rydia's existence. tellah and anna. cecil and rydia, who have lost everything they can protect except rosa, not knowing how to help edward make this realization in his own grief, only how to hurt or belittle him. rosa mentoring rydia to learn fire is honestly rosa's strongest characterization moment outside of kain and cecil drama hours. yang looking over the bodies of the junior monks he was teaching. yang jumping in after rydia without hesitating. leviathan we learn later taking in rydia. cecil returning to mysidia. cecil looking down at palom and porom saying i'm sorry you want literal children to climb the holycursed zombie mountain?

i kinda like to think that was the first test and cecil didn't even realize. if he hadn't spoken up about how weird it seems sending kids well maybe he's just faking being contrite and following his own moral compass now because if you don't know palom and porom can nuke half the mountain on their own that would be extremely weird. ah yes, the elder says, moving his hand under the desk from the 'eject' button. don't worry about these two they'll be fine. :) cecil quickly realizing the two brats are all but carrying him up the mountain he thought he needed to protect them from.

that is all just the first act

except for kain's whole thing boiling over under the "brotherhood/jealousy" theme, moments that fall outside "guardianship" are i think generally less memorable, or if not set up well feel forced to me, like plain readings of the love triangle, yang and cid's sacrifices (versus palom and porom's, ouch), cecil not explaining adequately why rosa and rydia need to stay behind aside from not wanting the girlies on his implied suicide run. i'm sure i'm also forcing this interpretation a bit

[wolfjessedragon]

Based on @liliacamethyst Webs of series

Webs of What if Part 3- Webs of Protection

A month later in Spider Society HQ…

Ben Riley: *bandages the stab wound on Sunny’s leg* Looks like the stinger didn’t pierce much, other than a visit with medical you should be okay. I’m so sorry.

Sunny: Ben it’s okay, you couldn’t have known.

Miguel: *exits the portal and marches over glaring at Ben Riley*

Sunny: *winces as she stands between Ben Riley and Miguel* Mig- *her leg gives out and she falls only for Miguel to catch her*

Ben Riley: Spider Sun are- *reaches out to help Sunny only for Miguel to growl at him*

Miguel: Don’t. You. Touch. Her. *He picks up Sunny bridal style and carries her away.*

Sunny: *While being carried to Miguel’s office she looked back at Ben Riley then looks up at Miguel and thought about what had happened. Earlier that day Ben Riley asked a favor of the squad to help him rescue his older brother and fellow spider Kaine aka The Scarlet Spider. The mission was mostly a success, I mean they had freed Kaine from capture. However there were two hiccups: One, Ben Riley failed to mention that Kaine has severe psychological problems and was incredibly violent. And two, Kaine’s captors had him under some pretty powerful psychedelic drugs. Kaine started attacking all of them and while no one was killed or fatally injured, Kaine stabbed Sunny pretty badly in the leg. Nanoseconds later Miguel was on top of Kaine going absolutely feral on him. Like Sunny has seen Miguel angry before but what she saw back there was whole nother level. Full on primal savage rage. Ben Riley quickly got Sunny out of there and based on the blood that stains his fingers, it’s not looking good for Kaine.*

Miguel: *Looks at Sunny softly as he lays her on the couch and begins running diagnostics.* The stinger didn’t pierce any major blood vessels or nerves. Should heal in a few days tops.

Sunny: And our little one?

Miguel: *Shows Sunny the advanced ultrasound of their 15 week old little one. He feels Sunny’s hand intertwining with his.*

Sunny: *She stares at the image and can’t help but fall deeper in love with the life growing in her womb. She glances at Miguel, she senses that he feels the exact same way and sneaks in a peck on the cheek.*

Miguel: *sigh* The rest of the team knows now by the way.

Sunny: …..what?

Miguel: I may have let it slip.

About a half hour earlier….

Peter BP: Miguel that’s enough! *Shouts as he, Jessica, Gwen, and Hobie after a lot of struggling finally pulls him off a badly beaten Kaine.*

Miguel: ¡No he terminado con él!

Jessica: Yes you are! Look at Kaine, you could have killed him!

Miguel: ¡Podría haber matado a mi Soleada y a mi bebé! *Causing Jessica, Gwen, and Hobie to look at Miguel in shock.*

Peter BP: *steps in front of Miguel* Who both more than likely need you with them right now!

Miguel: *causing his rage to subside enough to instead open a portal and go to his family*

Now…

Miguel: *sighs* Lo siento

Sunny: It’s okay Miguel, it was said in a moment of rage, and besides, they were gonna figure it out sooner or pop later- *stops as Miguel suddenly kisses her lips passionately*

Miguel: *wraps his arms around Sunny as he kisses her* Words cannot describe how much you mean to me, *he places a hand on her abdomen as if to caress the child growing in there* how much you both mean to me.

Sunny: *blushes deeply and hugs him* Te amo Miguel. *She kisses him as he crawls on top of her.*

Miguel: *Looks down at her, eye’s begging.* Please Soleada, no more field missions for now *stops as Sunny kisses him again.*

Sunny: I understand, *smiles up at him* my Miguel.

Meanwhile at the portal station…

Ben Riley: Shut the front door!

Peter BP: Those were my exact words

Gwen: Still trying to wrap my head around it

Jessica: How far along is Sunny?

Peter BP: Almost four months I think

Hobie: Y’know what, honestly, good for them.

Gwen: Seriously? They are like near complete opposites.

Hobie: Opposites attract mate, besides one of my best partners was from the upper class.

Margo: Wait y’all didn’t know Sunny and Miguel have been a thing? *She sends the gurney with a critically injured Kaine to medbay and get the “seriously?” look from the others.*

The next day at Miguel and Sunny’s apartment…

Sunny: *Laying on the couch wearing pjs with her leg bandaged up, reading “In the Time of the Butterflies”, when she hears a knock at the door.*

Jessica: *enters* It’s just me, Sunny, I have a key.

Sunny: Oh hey Jess, *lights up sees Jessica has Gerald* Hi Gerry! *winces as she gets up only to be slightly pushed back on the couch by Jessica*

Jessica: No no, no getting up, Miguel told me that even with our heal factors you need to stay off that leg for at least another day.

Sunny: *notices the bags Jessica is carrying* Whatcha got there?

Jessica: Oh this? Well after finding out the news, me and the others put a couple things together. *hand Sunny the bags*

Sunny: Y’all didn’t have to do that *looks in bags and sees a container of assassin spaghetti from Peter BP, a baby drum set from Gwen, some picture books on activists from Hobie, an apology note and a chewing necklace from Ben Riley, and some maternity clothes from Jessica.* You guys are thoughtful. *starts happy crying*

Jessica: *hands Sunny a tissue and sits on the other end of the couch, letting Gerald out of the babybjorn*

Sunny: *sees Gerald crawling to her, takes him in her arms, and starts playing with him*

Jessica: *giggles* You’re really good with him.

Sunny: Thank you, I just hope I’ll be a good mom for this little one. *she lays her hand on her slightly swollen abdomen, the image of yesterday’s ultrasound still fresh in her mind*

Jessica: You’re gonna do great

Sunny: Thanks Jess, I do know for certain that Miguel is going to be a wonderful father for them.

Jessica: Oh he’ll definitely try, in all the years I’ve known him I can say he was born to be a lot of things but one thing for certain is to be a dad. He devotion to Gab- *stops and pauses as if saying that name is too painful*

Sunny:.... I know I never met Gabriella, but I wish I did. I’ve seen the videos and I just know I’d love her as much as I love Miguel if not more. Who am I kidding? I’d love that little girl as if she were my own, and I like to think she would have been so excited to become a big sister.

Jessica: *sniffles* ….. she used to call me Tia Jess…. Sunny: Cm’here *hugs Jessica, who just hugs back*

That night…

Lyla: *Projected over a sleeping Sunny looking at her and her belly with such malice. She pulled up the apartment controls, all she had to do was turn the gas on and the carbon monoxide would do the rest. All of a sudden the apartment doors opened, she looked to see it was Miguel and immediately dissipated. Still watching from the cameras.*

Miguel: *Walks in, looking pretty exhausted, locks the apartment doors, and stumbles his way to the bedroom. Despite his exhaustion he crawls into bed carefully so as to not wake Sunny.*

Lyla: *Watches enviously as Miguel wraps his arms around a sleeping Sunny. Wanting so badly to be the one wrapped in his arms. She leaves.*

(Authors notes: Honesty guys I was anxious to post this one, please comment on any feedback. And again stay tuned for future parts.)

[teleiapotami]

NaLu Day 1

Happy NaLu Week! I am super excited to take part in my first NaLu week! I hope you all enjoy! Day One. @allaboutnalu @thenaluarchive

Anniversary

“Your anniversary with Lucy is coming up Natsu. Did you forget again this year?” Happy flew in circles above Natsu’s head. His tone was teasing, as though he already knew the answer to his question. Natsu chose not to answer, staring out at the quiet guildhall. It was a rainy day, so most people stayed home rather than hang out in the hall. The quiet atmosphere coupled with the grey skies had made his mood sour. Anniversary huh?

Natsu had not forgotten. In fact, he hadn’t forgotten any of the years that the others thought he had. He just didn’t understand anniversaries the way the others did. An anniversary is the celebration of the first time you did something, right? Why does only one first matter?

Looking around the guildhall he could see a hundred firsts as though they were printed into the wood grain of the walls and tables themselves. At the doorway, he could see the first time he brought Lucy to the guild. She had gaped at the sign with a look of such wonder and fulfillment that even then it made his pulse race.

The request board, though a completely different one now after so many years, held the memory of the first job they took together. Everlue’s mansion seemed like such a lifetime ago, and yet the lessons he learned about his partner were still at the forefront of his mind. It was there that he learned of her strong sense of justice, her compassion, and her uncompromising ideals.

In the corner of the room sat a large box full of iron scraps, Gajeel’s snack box. The smell of the iron always reminded him of the day Phantom Lord had attacked them and kidnapped Lucy. That was the first time he realized that she meant much more to him than just a teammate. The battle against Gajeel had taught him that Lucy was loyal, brave, trusting, and above all, she was his. He hadn’t known at the time why he felt that way, but it would always be a memory that resonated within him.

Hanging on the wall, a painting Reedus did of the Tenrou Team held the first time he realized that Lucy loved him. She hadn’t said it, and still wouldn’t for a long time after that moment, but he understood it all the same. In her fight with Kain Hikaru of Grimoire Heart, he found himself trapped in rubble and begged her to run and save herself, but she refused. The massive man had lifted her by the head to face Natsu. Expecting her to be afraid or resigned, instead her face wore the largest smile he had ever seen. Her words echoed in his mind: It’s always more fun when we are together. It was a mantra he carried with him every day.

The shelf behind the bar houses a large silver trophy bearing an engraved Fairy Tail emblem. Emblazoned on the base are the words ‘X791 Grand Magic Games – Fiore’s Greatest Guild – Fairy Tail’. In this relic rests many memories of firsts. The most significant was the moment he watched as Lucy died. In that moment he found himself facing the concept of a world without her and found it unbearable. That horrific moment was branded into his mind as the same moment that he realized he was in love with Lucy. He swore to save and protect her future, a vow he maintains even now.

Hanging from the rafters is a tattered flag with the guild emblem on it. The same one he pulled from the rubble just before the war against Alvarez. The bittersweet feeling matches the tattered remains perfectly, as this is the memory of the first (and last) time he left Lucy behind. A year in seclusion, training to become strong enough to protect Lucy’s future forever. But for her, it was a year of seclusion without him or any of their friends. Looking back at the training time now, Natsu can see that the most valuable lesson learned in that year was how much he wanted to be by her side, always.

“I’m going for a walk Happy; I’ll see you back home.” He wanders absently out into the drizzling rain. Even the weather held an anniversary for him. It was raining like this the day he first kissed her.

A picnic in South Gate turned into a mad dash for cover from the sudden downpour. The sound of her giggles and squeals still rang in his ears, bringing a smile to his lips. Hiding under a small awning, they watched the rain fall from the sunny sky. His arm was around her shoulders, drying the wetness from her clothes with his warmth. She told him of Sunbursts, a kind of rain shower that bursts forth from a sunny sky, just like the one that day. He’d watched her face as she spoke of how her mother told her that Sunbursts always preempted some of the most beautiful moments in life because they guaranteed a rainbow at the end. When she turned and smiled up at him he captured her lips with his own, leaving both of them glassy-eyed and panting gently. “I guess your mom was right…” he’d murmured to her. She had thrown her arms around his neck, attaching the memory of their second kiss to the sound of rain on the pavement as well.

Passing by the apartment on Strawberry Street was always full of memories. Glancing up at the window made him grin at the number of times he’d broken into her home to wait for her. His favorite anniversary held there was the night they had slept together. A long mission surrounded by their team, with no time to themselves, ended with the couple tangled together in Lucy’s bed. Exploring each other’s bodies had been the sweetest adventure, and it was one Natsu enjoyed embarking on as often as she would let him.

Ahead and to the left stood the trinket store where he purchased the small ring that changed their world in a big way. He’d never dreamt of being married, but when a glint in the window caught his eye, he couldn’t look away. A braided silver band with a golden strand twined through it supported twelve small diamonds surrounding a star-shaped opal. He had begged a loan from the only man he knew could keep a secret to buy it. How could he work extra to save for it quickly when Lucy went with him on every job? Gray had agreed, only after Natsu showed him the ring. It was perfect for Lucy, and there would never be a better one.

Looking up he realized he had almost made it to their house. Quickening his pace he crossed the remaining distance and slipped inside. His clothes steamed dry as he made his way to the kitchen where he could hear Lucy singing to herself. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he planted his chin on her shoulder. She turned in his arms and kissed him softly, studying his face.

“Hey, what’s up? You look like something is bothering you.”

He smiled slightly and brushed his nose against hers. “Nah, I was just thinking about our anniversary.”

She pressed another gentle kiss against his lips. “Which one?” The question made Natsu grin. He didn’t know why he let the others get to him. He may not celebrate anniversaries the way others expected him to, but his Lucy understood him. Moreover, she accepted his way of thinking and loved him for it. “All of them.” He buried his face into her neck, inhaling his favorite scent in the world. “I love you, Luce.”

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