#Noots comes to realize Dream’s never actually been against him?

[paintedkinzy-88]

So which noodle is the older twin? In all your aus

Nightmare, usually! I think Dream gives little brother vibes in past Dreamtale, so I like to think he lost whatever rock, paper, scissors bs they did to decide haha. It’s mostly apparent in Little Apple Nightmares, tho.

The only difference is TTS, merely because they aren’t brothers at all so it makes no difference XD

[ask-marine-mitsu]

A Midnight Swim

She stared at the sky as she had so many night before in her life, allowing the waves to wash over her while she floated along the open sea. The ship was a short way off, and making its way slowly through the Grand Line as it always did. No one on aboard had noticed when she opened the small window to her room, and descended a rope down to the water below.

Mitsu wasn’t sure she could explain to any of the humans on board why this was so important for her, why she simply had to swim and float along with the currents. It had never occurred to her that life would be any other way, that she should do anything other than dive into the waves to clear her mind seemed staggering to her. It was rather obvious to her why none of the crew understood, she thought, they simply didn’t feel the same pull as she did. In fact, even some of the other fishmen in her family didn’t always feel it. Her grandmother used to say that they were special, the ones that led the family, that they had the will of the sea in their souls, and no matter where they were they went or what happened they would always be pulled back to it.

“We got the pull of the sea in our veins. Everyone else, they get lost, us? Nah, we get found. We find ourselves, our family, are dreams, everything we could ever want, we find it at sea.” The old woman would laugh then, her pink gills puffing up slightly from her wrinkled skin. She still remembered that motto, still remembered the stories, however vague they were, and she certainly still remembered the funeral they had held for her the day she died.

At that time Mitsu had known that she would always have a family, a home, even if one of them left or was injured, there would always be others there to help ease the pain. How was it that at so young an age she had been forced to learn the lie within those thoughts? How was it that some child, a child barely older than she was now, was allowed to give an order that harmed so many? Even as the water swirled around her, the soft crash of gentle waves against her skin, even as it all lulled her she felt an anger, a rage, build inside her.

In the blink of an eye she was sinking, diving down beneath the waves, her feet kicking behind her as she went deeper and deeper. She had soft webbing between her toes and fingers, which she used then to help her dive even further, faster. Her eyes saw so much further than should be possible right then, given the night and the depths she was diving to, but it hardly mattered. Nothing mattered right then as she made for the ocean floor.

Depths such as these may crush a normal human, but she managed, forced herself to manage really. There were sea kings nearby, she could feel it, but paid them no mind as she continued to dive. When her hand finally grazed the ocean floor she almost breathed a sigh of relief. Down here everything seemed so much simpler, so much quieter, and so much more painful. It wasn’t the depth, or the threat of death, or even the idea that the ship would go too far for her to catch up with, it was the memory.

When had she last actually dove so deep? Borsalino never let her go too far, always concerned for her safety. But she remembered her father, who would shriek with as much glee as she would as they dove beneath the waves together. Johann was never far behind, and Dalia would always get away from her mother to come along. Alvin and Marco, the old divers that they were, never missed an opportunity to show the youngsters how it was done. It had been fun, she had been close to them, she had felt so free then as they swam together, as the fleet practically stopped as more and more of the family joined in.

Below the waves no one could see her cry, and none but the fish could hear the anguished scream that left her at that moment. She hated them. Hated the marines, hated the nobles, hated the entire world that had ripped her family from her. The pirates who so insisted they loved freedom, and so greatly abused that same freedom, to torment her and others. The Marines who believed themselves so righteous only to turn about and belittle those they felt were less than them. How many times had she wished to see them all drowned? To see their blood turn the water red just as they had done to her.

Down there she cried, hands digging into the smooth sand beneath her, unable to do anything more than feel the weight of the world on her back. No matter how many times she cried, how many times she replayed the events, or spoke them aloud, they hurt so much. She wanted to forget, but she couldn’t, she couldn’t forget her family, those she loved and admired. After a time, far longer than she cared to think about, the tears stopped, the pain ebbed, and she looked to the surface, unable to see even the barest hint of a shadow from the ship.

A part of her didn’t want to go, she simply wanted to keep swimming there, getting lost forever. And yet, she remembered Borsalino, the way he always came in the middle of the night to make sure she was sleeping soundly. How worried he got whenever she was injured or scared. Each time they landed he never stopped her from running along and playing, always trusting her to come back or call if she needed help, even though Mitsu knew he always sent someone after her. Lieutenant Noot, with his shaking jaw, and his determination to teach her how to shoot. Doctor Tyde, always checking and double checking her, making sure she ate properly. Even the various members of the crew, Celeste who was the only one brave enough to swim with her, Mikael letting her win at chess even though she didn’t know all the pieces, Fredrick taking dozens of pictures on every island with her, usually of cats. She could name almost every single one of them…

With a swift push she began to rise, legs kicking out behind her as she cut through the water. Heartbreak, that was certainly still there, pain, even more so, and an anger that she could barely wrap her head around. Even so she was determined, determined to return to that ship. They were her family, her friends, and even if they didn’t think so or know so, they were important to her.

It was a grueling exercise, trying to catch up with one of the Navy’s finest ships, but she had quite the advantage in the water. Her lungs began to burn from the exertion, her arms and legs tired from it, and despite her skill she was beginning to think that catching up would be an impossible task. Yet her mind wasn’t on that task, even as her eyes focused on the ship her mind was elsewhere. She was with her old family, sailing, bartering, diving, singing on deck day after day. She was with her new family, arguing and laughing, and rolling their eyes at the Admiral. She was in a place that swirled with pain and hope and anguish, a place that seemed more vast and deep than any sea in the world.

One more push, one more stroke, one more memory and emotion that seemed so painful it would kill her simply to think of it too long, and with one more moment it fell behind her. So much of what she had gone through couldn’t be put into words, couldn’t be described with anything more than tears and screams. But right at that moment it didn’t matter, all that mattered was getting back to her family. Her father, her hammock, her friends among the crew, and all the possible adventures that were yet to come.

It happened in a blink really, without her meaning it to, without thinking much about it, but on the back of her legs a single rather large fin extended upward. She didn’t notice for quite a while, not until she felt it, the speed and the swiftness, as she saw the boat getting closer and closer. Even when she did realize what she had done she didn’t pause to think about it, and kept moving forward. Her hands grabbed hold of the rope she had left dangling from her window just as her legs felt as though they would break from the strain she was putting on them. Breathing heavily Mitsu simply held on for a few moments, before finally climbing the not-insignificant distance to her bedroom.

Once inside she looked around the small room, where Marimo was sleeping soundly beside her hammock. She didn’t stay there long though, as she changed into her pajama’s and immediately went to Borsalino’s room. The man of light was asleep, but he groaned slightly and cracked open an eye when Mitsu entered the room. A vague frown crossed his face, but all he did was extend an arm as she climbed up and nestled into him. Heart heavy, and entirely exhausted in so many ways, she began to cry, to simply shiver as the tears began to fall down her face. It all hurt so much, but maybe, just maybe, being here would make it better.

 There were many questions Borsalino wanted to ask his daughter, why she smelled of seawater, why she had crawled into bed in the middle of the night, and why there was an incredible amount of sand now on his bed. But when she hugged him, her slight trembling, her soft sniffles, and the way her hands simply clung so tightly to his shirt… well he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Holding her close he simply hummed, and let her cry, waiting until she had entirely drifted to sleep before closing his own eyes and returning to sleep. He hadn’t planned to be a father, hadn’t planned to take her in, and had never planned on all the worry and headaches she would bring. Yet a part of him knew at that moment, no matter what he may think later, that it was the right choice to have made, for the both of them.