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heliads · 3 years

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Guns Blazing, Tides Rising (Part Five)

When Kaz Brekker announces that they’ll be working with a certain Tidemaker to help with the latest heist, Jesper knows it’s not going to end well. He and Y/N L/N have a fierce rivalry, although feelings may change over a night.

previous / series masterlist

a/n: it’s finally over 😭thanks once again to @underc0vercryptid for being my muse for all of this

It’s hard for Jesper to convince himself to leave the alley, to let his hands leave Y/N and return to their places by his sides. Inej and Kaz will be looking for them, that much is true. But there’s still a sound like a sigh trapped and rattling in his lungs when he leaves, a regret that he can’t quite excuse away with knowledge of what Kaz’s vengeance would mean if he found a single Dreg disobeying one of his most enforced rules.

Y/N understands, that much is true. She’s become more involved with the Dregs as time goes on. She knows Kaz Brekker in the way that they all do- the Bastard of the Barrel isn’t one that you cross unless you wish to lose your tongue and your life. It still seems wrong to give this up, though, to let Dirtyhands keep walking all over him for the one thing that matters. In the end, they would have had to leave the alley anyways. This is just the first excuse that passes Jesper’s lips.

He manages to turn off his mind for a little while, convincing himself that it doesn’t feel harder and harder to leave, that he can be emotionless and cold. Jesper’s tone is clinical when he tells Kaz and Inej of the successful mission, his hands for once unshaking and firm when he hands over the list of names to Kaz. However, even his attempts at being fine and calm draw suspicion- Kaz hadn’t seen them rejoin the rest of the party when the guests relocated from the main hall, and he wanted to know why.

Jesper has spent enough time running with the canal rats for lies to spring easily to his tongue. There was a difficulty finding the safe, he says, they had to dodge some guards and they didn’t quite get there in time. It doesn’t really matter, though, does it? They got in, they got out, and they weren’t the reason the alarms were sounded. Kaz raises an eyebrow at this, but he doesn’t press it. Jesper might be well and truly hallucinating, but he swears he sees a tinge of unrest in Kaz’s eyes, like the boy is haunting himself over the fact that he may have made an error, one that could have gotten his gang caught like a too-clever fox in a trap.

Maybe this shift in Kaz’s usual ruthless demeanor is enough to unsettle him, or maybe it’s the gnawing knowledge that Jesper keeps walking away from the girl he might love that drives him to leave the Slat once more. It’s early morning now, dawn with its rosy-fingered hues, but a lack of sleep has hardly bothered Jesper before, and it certainly won’t now. He thinks as he walks, stretching his legs as he paces mindless circles around the city.

Jesper can’t shake the feeling that he’s been running for too long. He’s used to it, but for some reason, it feels different now. He doesn’t like this constant leaving, this weight on his shoulders like he’s holding true to a lie that will one day spiral out of control. Jesper is used to living life on the run, to being flamboyantly proud of everything that makes him, well, him. The skulking around back corners, stealing kisses only after he’s checked and double-checked that no one is watching? It feels like a noose is tightening around his neck.

In the end, Jesper finds himself climbing up a rickety fire escape and stretching his legs out over the edge of a roof, watching the golden dawn start to turn the waters surrounding Ketterdam bronze with light. It is not long before he is joined by someone else, someone with answering steps and a reassuring smile tossed his way. Maybe she could tell from how they’d left that he was still lost in thought. Regardless, Jesper is happy to not be alone.

Y/N sits next to him, carefully swinging her feet over the edge. Her heels kick up against the brick. “I like this view. I like being able to see the water. It feels like I’m more connected to it.” Jesper turns his head towards her, watching the way the early morning air toys with her eyelashes, her face. “Is it easy to be a Tidemaker here? I mean, you’re powerful enough that people don’t try to trap you with indentures. Does it ever get easy in Ketterdam?”

Y/N laughs quietly. “Not at all. I still remember when I first showed up and stepped off of the boats. My parents wanted to send me away from the disaster that was the Ravkan civil war. They guessed it would happen long before it did, and assumed Kerch would be safer. They sent me over first, saying that they’d follow soon after.” Jesper can hear the inflections in her voice, the way she casts her eyes towards the water with renewed vigor. He knows this means that they never showed up again.

She clears her throat, voice stubbornly loud as if ridding herself of doubts. “I was terrified when I first got here. Nothing made sense. In Ravka, Grisha were feared, yes, and there were always traders or mercenaries or even drüskelle out for blood, but we had a home there. If you had a home, people rarely came hunting for you. I had no such harbor here.”

Y/N looks out over the streets as if she’s never walked them before, as if she’s once more a stranger to the coal-choked airways always drenched with a spattering of rain and misfortune. “I had a friend. A girl who came with me. She was an Inferni, made the mistake of trying to summon up a small spark to keep her warm. I watched them take her right before my eyes, and I didn’t do anything at all. I vowed from that moment on that I would never be weak again, never hide in the shadows like I did on that night.”

Jesper’s heard bits and pieces of the story from here. He’d learned the most about her before he even liked her at all, actually, back when they still considered themselves to be rivals. Jesper had told himself that he was just collecting information on an enemy to best take her down the next time they crossed paths, but there was more to that, wasn’t there? Maybe that was a sign that even then, when Jesper had convinced himself that the only thing they could ever have was animosity, he still wanted something more. That was a gambler’s luck, after all- always reaching for a better deal, a shinier prospect. She was his best capture.

Y/N glances over at him like she can sense his thoughts. “That’s when you entered the picture, actually. I stopped being scared to hide my powers and started using them in bloodlust. I took up jobs, found this one really annoying sharpshooter who kept getting in my way.” Jesper presses a hand to his chest in mock indignation. “I think you can do better than just ‘really annoying’. Dashingly infuriating, maybe. Devastatingly attractive. A charming enemy who-”

Y/N cuts him off, laughing. “You’re awful. Utterly awful.” Jesper goes to protest, but she leans in, pressing a kiss to his lips that makes his heart swoop in his chest. Y/N raises an eyebrow at Jesper’s sudden silence. “Am I that good of a kisser? I don’t think I’ve seen you that awestruck in a while.” Jesper scoffs. “I can do better than that.”

He lets his hands find hers, lets the rising sun light the way his lips meet hers. They don’t leave the rooftop until the sun has fully ascended to its place in the sky, until the clatter of feet on cobblestones is the only reason for an exit. Not a gang, not its fearsome leader. Just the two of them, drowning out the whole world until there’s nothing left at all.

He is eventually found out, of course. All stories repeat themselves, all beginnings follow suit. When Kaz calls Jesper up to his office, he finds that he isn’t worried at all. Before, he might have felt his shoulders tense, hesitating at the door. When Jesper faces the oddly terrifying wooden paneling, however, all he can think about is the sun shining through Y/N’s eyes, the smile on her lips as his fingers laced around hers. If loving her is wrong, well, Jesper’s already been a criminal for quite some time. Why not add one more misdeed to the list?

Kaz waits for him in the office. He stands up, black gloved hands tapping on the familiar crow’s head cane. It’s all meant for a threatening display- Jesper’s seen this very posture used successfully on many a nervous trainwreck of a failed business partner or lackluster goon. However, Jesper’s still filled with the giddy rush of seeing his girl and he can’t quite force himself to care.

Kaz clears his throat, the metal hull of a ship scraping against jagged rocks. “Y/N L/N.” He doesn’t have to say anything else, just the name. Jesper nods. “Yes.” Kaz raises an eyebrow. “You’re not going to deny it?” Jesper shrugs. “We both know your information is good. Yes, I’m seeing her.” Kaz’s fingers still on the head of the cane. “You know how I feel about that. It’s a weakness.”

Jesper should take it as a possible sign of insanity that he’s considering the path before him at all. He knows what Kaz expects of him- an apology, maybe, a promise that he won’t stray from the rules again, or at least not so long as they interfere with Kaz’s master plan for the Dregs. He’ll see Y/N out, do his best not to cross paths with her again. He might return to the gambling halls once more just to stave off some unsightly emptiness inside of him, and then he’ll be as good as gold.

Jesper, however, does not intend to do any of this at all. What good are the odds if he doesn’t have his girl? He’s stepped inside the Crow Club over the past couple of days. The rattle of Makker’s Wheel doesn’t have that same fervor, the excitement doesn’t spread over him in the same delicious rush. Simply put, it isn’t worth it. It isn’t a gamble worth his time, and Jesper’s lost mightier fortunes over lesser odds.

So Jesper shakes his head. “Not her. Not like this.” Kaz tilts his head just slightly, eyes calculating, looking for loopholes to exploit. “So you’d willingly break the rules?” Jesper leans forward. “We’re Dregs, Kaz. It’s what we do.” Kaz returns his level gaze. “Not like this. Tell me, what is it that makes Y/N L/N worth this much to you? You were enemies before, were you not? Is it the power? The chance that she may be like you?”

Jesper lifts a shoulder. “It’s not always about finding the best possible advantage, Kaz. We work well together. It was only a matter of time before it was more.” Kaz Brekker might understand. Dirtyhands does not. “Your goal was not to find some pretty girlfriend in the Barrel, Jesper, it was to complete the mission and move on. I knew from the second you held her bleeding body in your arms that this wouldn’t be worth my time or my energy.”

Jesper doesn’t realize he’s standing until he is. “Then say it. I’ve spent my time playing your games, Kaz, and Saints know I’ll keep on turning your tables, but not on this. We all break the wheel at some point. I’m willing to do it for her.” Kaz is silent for a time, a time that seems to stretch on into such an eternity that Jesper finds himself tapping his revolvers again, feeling that same itch for a fight. It’s well and good to go into a battle of the bullets and feel the adrenaline kick in, he could handle that. This, however? Waiting for Kaz to do something, anything? You can’t fight that, only wait for it to end. And Jesper’s never been particularly good at waiting.

At last, Kaz speaks. “Then stay with her.” Jesper almost thinks that he’s started hallucinating. “What?” Kaz inclines his head. “She’s good for you. You’ve been more focused.” Jesper stares for a second, then shakes his head, fighting back the impossible urge to break into manic laughter. “Honestly, if it takes you considering the potential business opportunities to approve of us, I’m not about to challenge that.”

Something almost like a smile appears on Kaz’s face. Jesper is most certainly going insane. “I’m not completely heartless, Jesper. You’re a useful sharpshooter.” Jesper’s eyes widen. “That’s practically a compliment. Do you need me for a heist later? I can’t think of anything else to cause this.” Kaz tilts his head in acknowledgement of this surreal situation, pausing for a second as if listening to a voice that no one else can hear.

Then he gestures towards the door, allowing Jesper to leave. As Jesper walks towards the door, though, Kaz says something else. “Inej just left the roof.” Jesper nods in understanding. “Look at you. Dishing out the compliments for your Wraith to hear.” Kaz’s brow furrows, and Jesper decides to leave the office now before Kaz decides to take back his approval of Jesper and Y/N and hit him with his cane or something else overtly Kaz-like.

Despite his best efforts, Jesper is still teeming with anxious energy after the meeting, so he goes on a quick stroll around the crooked alleyways of the Barrel to calm the restless ticking of his hands and legs. When he comes back to the Slat, however, he notices that his door is slightly ajar. Jesper enters his room slowly, relaxing at the sound of voices.

The window is open, showing the faint drizzle of the streets outside. Y/N sits on the floor next to Inej as both girls consider a makeshift target of a few rags at the far end of the room. Inej tosses a knife up and down in her hand, then flings it towards the target. She hits it in the center, to no one’s surprise. Y/N’s eyes follow the path of the blade, and then she extends her hand towards the window, letting drops of rain fly towards her palm. She curls her fingers around the water, shaping it into a perfect replica of the knife Inej had just thrown, then directs it towards the target to slosh around Inej’s blade, another direct hit to the center.

Inej makes a scoffing sound. “That doesn’t count. You got to control the knife instead of just throwing it.” Y/N shrugs absentmindedly. “You got to pick a knife, I had to make mine myself. I think it evens out.” Inej glances up towards Jesper, smiling slightly. Somehow, it comes to no surprise that she’d known he was there all along. “Jesper, come tell your girlfriend that she’s cheating at target practice.”

Jesper shrugs. “As long as you hit the target I don’t think you can cheat. Also, I thought I locked this door.” Y/N grins up at him. “That’s the unbiased support I love to hear. And your door was locked, we just wanted to go in so we did.” Jesper nods. “That clears up everything.” Y/N laughs. “Good to know.” Inej stands up, stretching, and goes to retrieve her knife. She goes to climb through the window once more then pauses, turning to face them.

“I’m glad Kaz let you two stay together. I certainly did my arguing for you.” Jesper frowns. “How long have you known?” Inej sighs exasperatedly. “Practically since the start. You two are terrible at being secretive, you know that?” She doesn’t give them time to protest, just slips out the window and disappears into the roofline before you could even blink.

Y/N walks over to Jesper, a half smile on her face. “I suppose she’s right. We haven’t exactly been the most discreet, have we?” Jesper shrugs. “Maybe not. But we don’t have to hide anymore. We don’t have to leave.” Y/N smiles at him now, a true smile. “I like the sound of that.” Jesper hums thoughtfully, leaning down to kiss her. “So do I.”

guns blazing, tides rising masterlist: @kaqua, @amortensie

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merigreenleaf · 3 years

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It’s been forever since I was on tumblr, but I’d like to get back into it again. I’ve been mostly avoiding social media for a few months and doing a lot of personal art things, one of which is learning how to paint. At the moment I’ve been working on watercolors. I was super excited when I saw that one of the lessons had us painting a sky with constellations! Concordia, the main country in the Unexpected Inspiration series, has a ton of history and mythology about their constellations, which they call the Muses. It’s said that these were beings who came down from the sky to teach the original Concordians art and magic. This is partly true. There were beings who granted this magic and knowledge, but they came from other worlds via a portal, not the sky. The humans simply assumed the sky when the beings seemingly popped out of nowhere when they heard the call for help. Each of these constellations became the Muse of a specific branch of art/magic because they granted that particular flavor of arcane creativity. Most of the Muses are no longer remembered as their original appearance; over the centuries stories have made them larger and stronger (or at least stranger) than they were. They're not in quite the right locations, but artistic interpretation, right? I included all nine Muses that make up my world's sky. From sort of left to right: Piquant, Pritchel, Chiaroscuro, Stele, Andante, Mortise, Tessera, Twisen (which is Whorl and Weft in one spiral constellation), and Scriven. Here's a bit about them:

Piquant: Muse of the culinary arts. I introduced him ages ago as a human-shaped imp who had a few small mushrooms "growing" on his body. He is now remembered because of the mushrooms; his constellation is a mushroom turned on its side. His name comes from a flavor. He helped grant food magic to the early Concordians because he saw they were hungry and wanted to help. Pritchel: Muse of metalwork. Pritchel (along with Scriven and Stele) were Creators, who were beings from another world who moved into what became Concordia and joined together with the humans there to create one culture. At some point, these three Creators lost their human forms, however briefly, because they’re remembered for what they actually looked like. (They’re also remembered for their human forms, too; somehow the humans never made the connection that these three beings were the same as the “human” newcomers who helped unite the two groups of people into one. This means Pritchel, Scriven, and Stele are remembered separately as the founders Petra, Dee, and Elda.) The Creators’ original forms, before they crossed through the portal that shifted them to human, were all of one species, but took on the appearance of the material they worked most. This means Pritchel was golden with flecks of silver to represent iron. Her constellation is based on her namesake: “a pritchel is a type of punch used in forging, particularly in making nail holes in horseshoes.” In this case, the constellations is the punch and the horseshoe. Concordians have never kept horses, but back before the Concordian humans were sent to Concordia, they did. Pritchel had lightning and metal magic, so she granted the ability to work metal, as well as use lightning to power magical inventions. Chiaroscuro: Muse of illustration. He’s a celestial being of both light and shadow, who had come to Concordia's world centuries before events of the Muses. This makes him very, very old, even at the time these Muses visited Concordia. He had no physical form except as an amorphous dark spot with glowing golden eyes. Mostly it's his eyes that are remembered and the constellation is simply these. “Chiaroscuro” means “the treatment of light and shade in drawing and painting.” I know Chiaroscuro best of all because he’s important to both Concordia and Montglace and he comes into play in the current books. He granted illustration and illusion magic. Stele: Muse of sculpture and another Creator. In her case, her appearance took on the look of either marble or clay. A “stele” is a variation on “stela,” which is “an upright stone slab or column typically bearing a commemorative inscription or relief design, often serving as a gravestone.” The constellation was supposed to be an upside-down gravestone. It became a clay teacup pretty quickly because this was too morbid for a Muse remembered as fondly as Stele. The reason Stele is associated with memorials was because when she was alive, she helped create the walls that contain the names of everyone in Concordia who has passed since the founding; these update automatically because of the magic tied into them. Andante: Muse of music. He was originally some sort of bird person and is somehow still remembered as a bird person. The fact that this constellation looks like a bird person with wings and a tail is probably the reason. I’m still amazed that the program I used to generate stars threw some together in a way that made this shape form so well! His name is a musical term involving tempo. The magic he granted involves sound, both in terms of music but also in recording and amplifying. Mortise: Muse of woodwork. They were a being of the same species as Chiaroscuro, but even older than Chiaro. While Chiaro stayed a celestial, Mortise bonded with the land and became one with the planet. They're remembered as a tree because their voice came from the grotto at the center of the early Concordians' homes. It's not barbaric to have a tree be the Muse of woodwork because Concordians use fallen wood whenever possible and always replant. The earth magic granted by Mortise makes the land flourish; they've grown weaker over the centuries so now their magic can only stretch as far as Concordia. A “mortise” is a woodworking joint and Mortise granted magic over wood. Tessera: Muse of glasswork. She was originally a Salamander, a human-sized lizard person, but over time she was remembered as a dragon. Possibly this is because large, scary dragons are more exciting than lizards, but more likely because the constellation’s arms got mistaken for wings. The tail probably didn’t help since the constellation is all tail. Tessera did have a tail, though, so that part’s okay. “Tessera” means an “individual tile, usually formed in the shape of a cube, used in creating a mosaic.” She granted light and heat magic, which generally manifests in control over glass. Twisen (Whorl and Weft): Muses of textiles. They were sisters or at least appeared to be sisters. They're from the same world as the Concordians, but their kind was there long before the humans arrived and long long before Concordian's founding. Their species lives deep underwater and most of the world doesn't realize that they share their planet with other people, even now. These two are remembered as a pair of waterspouts and they’re closely tied into wind and water, such as the wind in the sails of boats. Their names are spinning and weaving terms because they granted textile magic. Scriven: Muse of words. This also includes poetry, stories, and words both spoken and written. Scriven was the third of the Creator-Muses and was the Creator who called on the other beings and their worlds for help. This constellation looks weird, but I see it as the side view of a person holding a book or a piece of paper. It could also be an old-fashioned desk where the chair is connected. Either would work for Scriven. While Pritchel looked almost like metal in her true form and Stele looked like stone, Scriven's skin had the appearance of parchment and whenever he used magic, his words would show on his body. He granted power over words, such as an ability to bring emotion from the audience/reader. Concordia's culture revolves around art, hence the art-themed names, so painting this felt wonderfully appropriate. Chiaroscuro, the Muse of illustration, would approve. Years ago I introduced three of the Muses and I’d like to get back into that soon.

I know I had a tag list going, but at this point I’m not really sure who’s still around, so if you’d like to be added, let me know!

#writing #world building #fantasy series #watercolor #writeblr #constellations #unexpected inspiration series #about my world #my writing ramblings #I might tag some people from my tag list later #I'm too out of spoons after writing this up to go looking for it lol #this has been an exhausting year but I'm hoping I can be on here at least a little bit again

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years

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Klaus Hargreeves x Powered Reader

-Watch and Learn-

Warnings: buffoonery ensues, fun times

This gif is beautiful and represents the reader v well.

Masterlist

Do you realize shoplifting is bad, yes. Are you about to do it on a dare, also yes. You see, Klaus has been up to no good recently, you put it up to his desperation for your complete and undivided attention.

For about a month you were over in Australia visiting an old friend, and your poor Klaus was left all alone to fend for himself, for 30 whole days. You were honestly surprised that your apartment didn’t burn down, or look incredibly trashed with random street cats walking around it.

Amazingly enough, everything was intact, but oh man did Klaus miss you. For the first day he wouldn’t even leave your side. The two of you laying on the couch and Klaus couldn’t keep his hands off of you. Not that you minded, he was needy and very handsy that night. So let’s just say, no movie watching was happening.

But back to your current situation, here you are outside a high end clothing store, and you’ve never been more ready in your whole life.

“Remember the goal Y/N, some shiny bracelets, sunglasses, a pricy pricy shirt, and something special for, muah.” Klaus purred sweetly in your ear trying to throw you off, but you remain unflinching and determined.

“Piece of cake, this will be a record haul.” You tell him with a mischievous smirk as he grins back at you.

The two of you casually walk into the store, you’ve put on your long blonde wig and dark sunglasses to better conceal your identity if things did in fact go south. Klaus didn’t try much to disguise himself as he walked in looking like some carefree wanderer, but then again, he’s the distraction.

He walks to the nearest group of employees and begins an over dramatic display of fascination for a certain hat that is laying a top a mannequins head. You make a beeline for the jewelry, finding your prize and nonchalantly sliding them into your inner jacket pocket. Easy money. Next you practically glide over to the sunglasses, looks around you before snatching your favorite pair, ripping off the tag and placing them casually into your coats inner pocket. Yours now.

You scan the store for the shirt isle, easily enough your eyes land down an isle to your left where you let out muffled snort. Klaus now has dark glassed Harry Potter looking specs as well as a fancy cowboy type hat. All in all he looks relatively good, like a sexy desert traveler who’s about to steal some hearts. A smile forms onto your face as you briefly watch him keep up his dramatic act of being the best shoplifting distraction you could have asked for.

Turning back to the pricy isle of shirts that altogether probably cost more then your car, well that is if you actually payed for it. You continue forward, your eyes scanning over the silk and leather fabrics, over ones encrusted with jewels and animal fur that you’re hoping is just fux fur. Your keen eyesight finally stills onto a gorgeous Gucci sweater that practically screams take me. You glance up and find where the nearest security cameras are, spotting them, you pull your attention back to the task at hand. You run your hands down the sleeves and swiftly tug, the sweater comes off the rack and makes a quick descent towards the polished tiled ground.

As sly as a fox you kneel onto the tiled floor, picking it up and sliding it into your coat where it’s completely hidden from any prying eyes that might not be minding their own business. With a smirk you stand up, taking the empty rack and calmly sliding on a new sweater that you found at the local thrift store, that’s been patiently waiting for its next clothing rack. You turn down the isle watching Klaus sweet talk an employee who seems to be under his little spell. You can’t help it when your jaw clenches in subconscious jealousy, you know it’s all for show but still, only you get that adorable smile and emerald eyes that at least they can’t see due to his current fashion statement.

Shaking those thoughts away, you ground yourself again to what you and Klaus actually came here for. Now to find something special for your man, scanning over the brightly lit store your eyes widen in excitement at the beautiful jewel encrusted golden snake necklace that only queens of Egypt should be allowed to possess. You coolly walk over to the necklace, your nerves racing in a bustle of excitement as you make it to the glass case that surrounds it. You shift your eyes once to the left and then once to the right, surveying the area for any intruders. No ones in the nearest proximity due to Klaus’ amazing ability to draw in a crowd practically anywhere.

“Oh and look at you, Klaus is gonna love you, not as much as me but hmm you are one beautiful snake.” You whisper to the glimmering metal hiding behind the stores attempt at a security precaution. Reaching out your hand you simply use your power and defy the laws of what humans should be able to do. Your hand phases through the see through glass where you promptly pick up the dazzling trinkets made for royalty. You silently stick it into your bra and turn around, making your way down the isle and towards Klaus and his crowd of high end retail workers.

You walk past him and give him a wink, he takes the subtle hint, says his goodbyes and trails after you towards the doors. You slow down your pace so he can catch up, a sudden arm slings over your shoulders as he kisses the side of your cheek.

“My dear you would not believe what a bunch of kiss-asses those guys are. Enough to match Luther honestly.”

“Well you seemed to be handling them just fine from what I could see.”

“Huh yeah, they thought my tattoos where interesting.”

“They did, didn’t they.”

“Ohhh were you...were you, gettin a lil jealous Y/N?”

“What? Jealous of a couple of blonde bimbos, you need your eyes checked babe.” Klaus lets out a laugh as he opens the stores door for you. You avoid eye contact, your frustration slowly building until he reaches for your open hand. The contact and the way that he leans into your side instantly calming your agitation once again.

“Alright fine. That was admittedly mean and unnecessary, and yeah okay I was a tad bit jealous...but come on Klaus. You make me feel things.”

“Aww Y/N you’re so cute, my little thief. So watcha get?”

“Oh some of this some of that. I’ll show you when we get back to the apartment. I’m gonna have to come back later and destroy the security footage.”

“Oh right, that silly thing those pricey stores like to do. Security cameras.”

“Ruining fun for burglers since they were invented by some paranoid prick.”

“Eh they have their uses.” Suddenly his attention snaps over to a hotdog vendor further down the sidewalk, “Oh hey, you want a street sausage...and I’m not talking about mine..ah Jesus Y/N I was kidding don’t hit me.”

“Klaus.”

“You have a strong arm. It was a serious question before you assaulted me.”

“Babe we have stuff that’s worth more then the building we live in. We should just go home, we have leftover Thai in the fridge.” Klaus abruptly halts the both of you, shifting your body so he can rest his hands on either side of your shoulders as he looks deeply into your eyes, his face shifting into a pleading expression.

“But my tum tum is grumbling...listen to it Y/N...it says feed me or I’ll die of hunger.”

“Wow I didn’t realize you could speak stomach. Klaus you are truly full of surprises.” You deadpan with lack of facial movement but a low sigh coming from your parted lips.

“Do not antagonize me woman this is serious.” He gives you the biggest and most adorable puppy eyes, trying with all of his might to sway you to the dark side. You roll your eyes as a smirk tugs at the corner of your lips. His eyes go wide in excitement, knowing he’s won you over with his usual Klaus charm.

“My lovely lady, you are a gem among the city sewage.”

“Thanks Klaus. You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

“That’s what I do babes.” Replies Klaus with a quick kiss to your lips before he drags you over to the vendor, that admittedly smells quit delicious if you’re being honest. He orders a simple dog for the both of you, actually paying for it himself to your great astonishment. Then he slathers his in toppings as you select a few of your own, then it’s through the city park to reach your apartment. The two of you and your concealed stolen goods, walking casually down the parks walking trail as you both happily munch on your hotdogs.

“Maybe I have too much on mine.” You have a look at Klaus who’s face is smeared with ketchup and mustard as he fumbles with is already messy napkin while you take another bite from your own hotdog in an attempt at concealing your laughter. “Seriously Y/N, it’s all over my face now, I’m a mess.”

“That’s what she said.”

“Ben don’t laugh..” Whines Klaus with a pout as he glances over at you who’s definitely losing your shit. “Okay fine, it was pretty funny.”

“You walked right into it. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Well Ben’s about to pee himself if you’d like to know so good job at that.”

“Thank you thank you I’ll be here all night.” You bow to no one in particular as Klaus finishes off the last bit of his hotdog. You hand him your napkin as you throw your dirty ones in the nearby trash can. Klaus doing the same, now looking much less of a mess, both on his face and hands. He swiftly catches up to you and practically throws himself onto you. You stagger to the side as his full weight begins dragging you downward towards the wet pavement, oh no you are not about to have his lanky ass get you all dirty. As a witches cackle escapes from your mouth you use your phasing abilities and a second later your idiot boyfriend has fallen onto the cold cement. He lets out a yelp as his hands reach out to catch his fall, he does a little tumble before sitting on the ground, a annoyed huff leaving his lips.

“Eww Y/N I was in you.” Whines Klaus as he picks himself up once again, you cross your arms and bite your lip in amusement.

“You didn’t think so this morning.”

“That was very different.”

“Yeah well your fatass was about to send me into the dirt. I happen to like this coat and would prefer to keep it looking snazzy.”

“Your snazzy can kiss my buns, I’m going home and then I can be in you...but not in that way.” He quickly adds as he reaches out for your hand, you gladly accept his appealing invitation and just like that the two of you make your way out of the park and towards the apartment building where some fun times await.

#klaus hargreeves #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves x you #klaus hargreeves imagine #the umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy x you #falcor the luck dragon stories

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spiral-ingoutofcontrol · 3 years

Text

Where the Ocean is the Sky Part One: Memory

A/N: AHHH happy pride month! I’ve been sitting on this plot for a while and I figured, what better time to start posting a wlw wizard101/pirate101 crossover than pride month? This part is just shy of 1800 words and I hope y’all like it!

xxx

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Andy mumbled to Captain Avery as they watched Madame Vadima peer over her cauldron. His expression was distorted by the candlelight of Vadima’s enclave, but she could still see that distinctive grin. Nothing ever made that man happier than knowing that he was winning.

He scoffed, not even sparing her a glance. “You’ve had nothing but gold in your eyes since I told you how much the client is paying.”

Andy’s eyes stayed trained on Vadima as the woman dropped what looked like batacuda eyes into the potion she was weaving. Ew. “Maybe we should take some time to rethink the Grizzleheim angle.”

“You can’t sneak into a small community like that. They’d have you made in a second. The client said that this would work.”

She tried to keep her face from scrunching up in disgust at the way he talked down to her. Years building up her reputation and Avery still talked to her like he did when she first came stumbling onto the island, wide-eyed and on the run from the Armada. They were gone now, thanks to her, and Avery still refused to speak to her like she was an adult. The only time he even acknowledged what she’d done- not only for him, but most of the damn spiral- was when he wanted something from her. Clearly he knew she was one the best. He just refused to actually say it. Subodai was convinced that he had a grudge because she had clearly surpassed his own skill level. Bonnie Anne thought that he was just an asshole and Andy couldn’t help but agree with the fox.

“Still,” Andy argued, watching Vadima sprinkle crushed cammun root over the mixture. “I’m not exactly in the habit of trusting people that won’t even tell me their real name. Or you.”

Avery let out a boisterous laugh at the last bit, clapping her on the shoulder. “Scared that I made this all up to poison you?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“It is ready,” Vadima announced, catching their attention. “And it is not poison.”

Andy took a step toward the cauldron. What had once been the clear blue water of skull island had turned into a thick, silvery liquid that shimmered as it reflected the lights around it. A large bubble rose slowly to its surface and popped. It looked more like liquid metal than something that was actually ingestible. Still, if there was something she’d learned over the last few years on the island, it was to never doubt Madame Vadima.

She sniffed the potion slightly. Cammun root. Figured. “So I drink this and it’ll make me look like a ghost?”

Vadima looked unimpressed with her question. “It will mask your life force and allow me to transport you through the spirit’s realm.”

“So a ghost, got it.” She glanced over at Avery, the wisps of a nervous expression on her face. “This is a lot of work for some old man’s staff.”

“It’s a lot of work for a lot of money, which we’re splitting 50/50.”

Andy rolled her eyes at his last minute attempt to renegotiate. “Nice try. 70/30, my favor. And don’t think I forgot to tell my crew that you agreed to still give them work while I’m gone.”

“The Steel Heart’s crew still has a contract, Captain,” he replied with a sigh. “Although I would have preferred you to hand the reins over to someone other than that wretched fox.”

“We need to act before it begins to boil.”

She smirked at him with pride. She might have done that on purpose. “You’ll get over it.”

Andy looked back over at the woman and the potion at her interruption. “Right.”

Quickly but carefully, she began to remove anything that would immediately identify her as a pirate. Her hat, coat, and vest all had to go, leaving her in a loose white shirt and her tight fitting pants. Her weapons belt was the last thing she removed, tentatively placing it in Avery’s open palm. Andy suddenly felt a lot more vulnerable than she’d been in a long time.

“I’m coming back for those, Avery.”

“Of course you are, Captain.”

If she was more naïve she might have thought that he was trying to reassure her, but she knew that he was only assuring himself. He was sending one of his best contractors into unknown territory unarmed and underprepared. This was a big job and they knew next to nothing about it. Andy didn’t even know how she was going to get back home once she stole the staff that Avery’s buyer was looking for. She had no idea how long it would take her to case the joint, form a plan, and wait for the right moment to execute it. The only thing that was certain was that she was going to be gone for a while. It crossed her mind, as Vadima handed her the silver coated ladle, that this might be a convoluted plan to get rid of her without outright killing her. She pushed the thought from her mind, spoon raised to her lips. Avery loved money more than anything else, and she was probably his most reliable supplier of it. He’d sent her on plenty of death defying missions before. She would be fine.

Despite it’s strange list of ingredients, Vadima’s mixture tasted oddly like vanilla. She never really understood magic, and she didn’t intend to learn. She was perfectly fine with shooting, slicing, and leaving all of the mystical nonsense to others. The vanilla bit at her tongue.

“You should feel it begin to take effect-”

Andy lurched toward Avery as a wave of lightheadedness washed over her. She watched his arms reach out to catch her but never felt his hands. The only thing she could sense was the cold. Like a freezing hand was wrapped tightly around her heart and was dragging her through a thick pool of water. She couldn’t tell seconds from hours. It felt like everything was happening in the blink of an eye and in the passing of days at the same time. Then her lungs started to scream. They were collapsing and being filled to their bursting point at the same time. She moved her arms wildly, searching for some kind of purchase, but there was no way to know up from down. Her hand found a piece of stone that was so cold that it burned, but it was firm. Strong. She pulled herself up.

Andy coughed and sputtered as she hit the cobblestone pavement, fighting to regulate her breathing. She could vaguely register the screams around her as she popped out of seemingly nowhere, but she couldn’t be bothered to take in any of her surroundings. The icy darkness of the spirit’s realm was clashing hard against the heat of this world’s sun and her body was going into shock. It had happened before- deadly injuries were common in her line of work- but she had had her crew with her then. People that she trusted. All she had here was a group of strangers staring at her with wide eyes.

“Give her some room!” Andy didn’t see who said it, too busy dying on the sidewalk. Someone gently took her head in their hands, resting her on their kneeling thighs. All Andy could make out of their face was the way that the sun streamed around them like a halo. Her vision began to blacken. And that’s when her savior started to hum.

It was soft and airy, a melodic tune that she didn’t recognize but felt oddly familiar. The song was calming in an unexplainable way, Andy could feel her heartbeat begin to slow and breaths even out as the woman continued her song, fingers resting lightly on her temples. Warmth radiated from the girl’s fingertips and it tasted like oranges on Andy's tongue. Magic. It had that same powerful tinge as Vadima’s potion, but where the potion was sour, this magic was sweet. Like indulging in Karamellian chocolate on a blissful summer night.

The feeling tapered out as the girl stopped humming and removed her hands. Andy took the opportunity to sit up, fingers running through the tangles in her hair once as she turned to look at the girl with the sickly sweet magic. She thickly swallowed as she finally got a good look at her savior. The girl's long dark tresses and light brown skin stood in direct contrast to Andy’s pale hands and fiery red hair. Her angel’s soft, symmetrical features were almost as ethereal as her eyes, big and brown, with just a hint of gold running around the edges. Andy felt like she couldn’t breathe again, but this time in a way that made her heart sing instead of seize.

“Are you alright?” Even the way she spoke made Andy feel dizzy.

“I . . .” she tried to speak but came out as only a breathy whisper. “Thank you.”

The brunette smiled at her sympathetically before placing her hands on her own thighs and pushing herself into a standing position. And just like that the spell was broken. Andy needed to get it together. This was a mission. She was here to steal something, not stare doe-eyed at the first beautiful woman she ran into.

“Alright, show’s over everyone. Get to where you’re going.” Footsteps started around them along with a few annoyed groans as the crowd began to disperse. The girl reached a hand down and Andy gingerly took it, letting the girl help her to her feet. Andy swayed purposefully as she stood, stumbling into the taller girl’s chest like she was still dizzy. It worked like a charm, the girl quickly wrapping her hands around Andy’s shoulders and looking at her with concern. “Let’s find you a place to sit down.”

“By Bartleby, Nora, what’s going on out here?” Andy’s head swiveled to the new voice, taking in the old, bearded man who was wearing the most ridiculous set of clothes the pirate had ever seen. His blue star-spotted robes looked like pajamas and his hat seemed to defy the laws of physics to balance on top of his wrinkling head. In his left hand he held a staff that clearly doubled as a walking stick, the golden head curling around a glowing blue orb. She recognized that staff. Avery had shown a drawing of it to her three days ago when she agreed to take this job. “Who is this?”

The girl- Nora looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to tell them her name. Andy’s mouth went dry. “I- I don’t know.”

#wizard101 #pirate101 #p101 #w101 #wiz101 #wizzy101 #fanfic #fanfiction #fic #wizard101 fanfiction #wizard101 fanfic #wizard101 fic #Nora Sunheart #miranda west #oc #pride

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transformers-fan-continuities · 3 years

Text

Spotlight: Rise of the Radiotrons

Here it is folks, the first fan canon spotlight, showcasing Rise of the Radiotrons created by sleeveev! You can find this over at @riseoftheradiotrons and also on AO3! This is a long post, fair warning.

Q) Give us a run down of your cont! What's it about, what's it called, what's it like?

the cont, despite being called Rise of the Radiotrons, revolves around five main groups of characters, and the mystery that accidentally intertwines all of them. a lot of false identities, undiscovered pasts, mystery that you need to read all the way through to really uncover. it also takes place during the attrition phase of the Autobot-Decepticon war, and Megatron and Optimus are... dead. but... weren't they made immortal by the Eternal Surge? where are they?

Q) What characters take the lead here? Any personal favorites?

characters that take the lead? hoo, boy, there's a lot. and be warned, this is OC-heavy. Wavecrash, Blackarachnia, Sparkplug, Pascal, and Ness make up the Earth detective team, the first to investigate the Radiotrons: Nanotube, Quicksilver, Greenscreen, and [REDACTED] (that is not their name, you will learn it later!).

Starscream, Moonkiller, and Pharma investigate a series of rust-related murders, later with the help of Eclipse and Terraform. the two they investigate? two hulking beings that carry a rust of sheer destruction of anything metal, Turbulence and someone known only as The Crimson Doctor. the third part is mostly with just a few characters. Dial-Up and Absolute Zero are in a cat-and-mouse chase, Dial-Up attempting to capture Absolute Zero and return him to the prison he escaped from. other 'bots come into this story, including Pylon, Airachnid, Suture, and Cyclonus, but they are not the main focus.

Turbulence. this motherfucker. this moldy bitch.

my personal favorites? i love Sparkplug, i love my little gaming PC gal. The Crimson Doctor has also grown on me quite a bit. i'm gonna make fat robots and you can't stop me.

Sparkplug above, Crimson Doctor (Crim) below

Q) I love how he isn’t crimson at all.

oh you'll learn why he's crimson

Q) Ominous! Is there a bigger point to this, like a theme or some catharsis? Or is it just fluffy fun?

a bigger point to this? well, i have quite my fair share of trauma for being in a military family - being on the home front of a war i never even learned about until i was like 12. i wanted to show the horrors of attrition above all, because attrition is the part of war that everyone seems to forget, but is possibly the most dangerous part of it. everyone's killing each other over resources, dying of preventable diseases, resources are spread thin among soldiers and thinner among civilians. it also lets new, perhaps worse groups arise from the dust.

war was never about who was right. it was about who could live longer. and RotR, with its rampant killings that people can't even begin to investigate until their leaders are toppled from their thrones and complete anarchy reigns among military sites, is a testament to that.

war was the cause for part of the namesake of the Radiotrons themselves - the Great Radiation Crisis. war was where everything went wrong

Q) How long have you been working on it?

now, for the slightly less dark - it varies from character to character! while the official plot of RotR was established on August 25 this year, some 'bots go much further back - Pascal's earliest concepts were made on May 8, Nanotube's were made on April 25, and The Crimson Doctor's roots go as far back as a character called The Crimson-Eyed Doctor, a character created on Dec 11, 2019 (happy belated birthday, Crim!).

Q) You’re very meticulous with your dates!

i lose track of all time otherwise

Q) Give us a behind-the-scenes look! Show us a secret ;))

behind the scenes.

this is a mystery cont.

THERE'S A LOT BEHIND THE SCENES.

i will start with some no-context spoilers, here.

and, now for something a bit more genuinely secret.

whether this is a crimson doctor or a red herring, you decide.

Q) Where did you draw inspiration from? What canons, what other fiction, what parts of real life?

this varies from subtle to shameless.

my cont would fit best in an comic format, so it makes sense that i was inspired by IDW - and that it was my entry into the TF fandom! there is also some TFA bits in there, but the majority of it is personal robot worldbuilding, with a couple sprinkles of headcanons and OCs taken from Afterburn, a cont made by a longtime friend of mine.

other fiction i took inspiration from is mostly in the character designs. Blackarachnia was loosely inspired by Tawna from Crash Bandicoot 4: It's About Time (you went through such a good revamp sweetie. neon lesbian.). if you can't tell that Turbulence took inspiration from Cioccolata from JJBA: Golden Wind, i don't know what to tell you. Crim took less inspiration from a character and more from a trope - the "ever-obedient villain subordinate". i just sucked all of the homoeroticism out of it, and also decided to give him more of a self than just someone who serves the villain.

here's Tawna (specifically Crash Bandicoot 4), one of the big inspirations for Blackarachnia's design! we don't talk about your past sweetie.

and Blackarachnia headshot to compare, because her fullbody is still in progress.

i am sharing this specific image of cio, one of turb's inspos, because i BASED A TURB PIECE OFF OF IT.

real life? RADIATION, RADIATION. i have radiation and radioactive things and the PERIODIC TABLE as a special interest and it SHOWS. it's all radiation. even the names. Quicksilver comes from mercury, Starborn comes from all elements being created from stars in space, Nanotube comes from carbon nanotubes, and [REDACTED] comes from... well, you don't know yet. there's also the whole attrition war thing, for real life inspiration, too.

Q) Show off something you're really proud of, a particular favorite part of your cont.

this piece of Eclipse and Turbulence('s hand), for one

(the image is at the end of the post under a readmore, as it contains eye trauma, eye touching, and roboblood)

and another thing i am particularly proud of are all my worldbuilding posts! they look like textbook entries kinda but i really really love em. here's one of them, though there are many more on the blog!

lastly, my favorite character introduction post. if you know Afterburn, you may be pleasantly surprised seeing this.

Q) Ah, that guy.

fun fact about RotR Absolute Zero! his color palette is taken from a diagram of a human heart. here is the motherfucker in question,

Q) What other fan canons do you love and why? Would you like to see them interviewed?

Afterburn. my best friend made this i can't just NOT advertise it. go look at it there's murderers and there's an OC that's actually very inspired by not one but two of my creations (the original OC he was a fanformer of, and his altmode - I'd had thoughts of various greenhouse 'bots like that). @transformersafterburn. please don't simp for Abzero. or maybe do. he's a better option than Turbulence.

Mirror Mirror. found at @transformers-mirror-mirror, it's got so many epic character designs and realistically sized altmodes despite not having realistically sized altmodes this makes me go happy flappy and is also inspiring a future project of mine, also Shattered Glass!

NEW PRIMES OF CYBERTRON. RITO I LOVE YOUR CONT SO MUCH. i summed it up in "transformers ungunned" but THERE IS MUCH MORE GO CHECK IT OUT AFTER YOU FINISH READING THIS INTERVIEW @thenamesblurrito

Q) [insert flattered keysmashing from me, creator of New Primes of Cybertron, otherwise known as TF:SNAP]

Thank you very much veev! Everyone go check out Rise of the Radiotrons! Stay tuned for next week, when we’ll get to see some Shattered Glass...

(aforementioned image under the cut, warning for eye trauma, eye touching, and roboblood)

#tf:rotr #spotlight #long post #robogore #tfoc #YEEHAW SPOTLIGHTS STARTED

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alo-piss-trancy · 3 years

Note

Ok hi, I didn't wanna say anything, but please don't write knifeplay/bloodplay for Yuri. I def don't wanna spoil anything, but it's learned on a certain route that Yuri has a s*lf h*rm problem (I'll leave it at that).

You honestly seem like you're not trying to be a jerk with this ask, so I'm going to do my best to answer this as politely as possible without compromising my personal beliefs on the matter. This is going to be long and a little serious, but please note I'm not attacking you or trying to start a debate. I'm just laying all my thoughts on this down at once so I make myself clear, because a short answer would leave a lot of nuance out.

I understand what you're trying to do here. For the record though, I also considered that a pretty massive spoiler and I did not appreciate that at all. Even if you all think you're 'helping', don't do that again. Y/uri was pretty much the only character I'd managed to avoid most spoilers on and you killed the surprise for me. This game is already so full of fluffy 'filler' in the beginning that I don't have a ton of big plot points to look forward to in each route.

Now, I realise this is a very delicate topic and incredibly triggering to some people, especially with those two things combined. I am 100% willing to tag it with just about any variation needed to ensure you or others affected can blacklist/block it and never have to see a word of it in the future. I'd also be happy to go back and tag that original text post I made if needed. I mean that. You all are welcome to ask me to tag things anytime, and so long as you're polite about it I'm perfectly willing to oblige to the best of my ability in future posts! If I occasionally forget, just toss me a light reminder and I'll jump into editing and add it in.

That said, I want to make it clear that I am very firmly against censorship. I'm willing to take all necessary precautions to ensure people can curate their experiences on this blog and AO3, but at the end of the day I can still post whatever fictional stuff I choose to. As can anyone else. Same goes for more formally published media.

Now, it's entirely possible I would have gotten to that part of the game and decided 'oh dang, I'm not so enthused about that fic idea anymore...'. My whims and ideas change frequently, and what you mentioned is a heavy topic with a lot to unpack and process. It's also entirely possible that future plot would only provide more fuel.

Fyi, when I originally mentioned the knifeplay I was actually thinking a lot more along the lines of her doing it to the protagonist, not the reverse. But for the record, if I did choose to write it with focus on Y/uri, I would still be well within my rights to.

This next part of my answer is going to address some heavy topics, this is your warning!!!

Sometimes people's kinks are a way to take a thing that is personally scary or upsetting to them and find a way to reverse it. To find pleasure or power or get used to the idea of the awful thing in a safe, controlled fashion. I'm not going to go into the full details on this because there's plenty of explanation and research elsewhere already written up, as well as an excellent book on the subject, and I'm not turning this blog into a discourse debate. But I needed to mention it for my point.

There are plenty of stories that could be explored with Y/uri in this context. Did she have this kink before the self harm events started and it was completely unrelated, or did she develop it afterwards? How did she discover it beforehand? If developed afterwards, did it start out as another way of harming mixed with pleasure in a self-destructive way, often done sloppily and without proper technique? Or was it strictly used as almost exposure therapy to deal with those urges and thoughts in a safer, more contained scenario, maybe even allowing the partner she trusted to wield the knife to prove their bond/reinforce that she can be loved without being hurt deeply, that she is worthy of affection and trust and loyalty. Maybe this finally helps give Y/uri a tool to embrace her 'weirdness' without harming herself and others. Or, what if she thinks it can be a useful tool and is sure she's ready, but partway through the scene she gets triggered or has flashbacks... how does she deal with it? How does her partner? Can it be overcome with effort, research, and taking things slowly, or does she realize this kink is actually completely off the table for her?

What if she has this kink and is excited to try it, but her partner isn't? How does she take that rejection? Or do her poor social skills mean she skipped negotiation to begin with and attempted it in the middle of a vanilla session? Would her partner freak out or even get mad, or try to swallow their fear and let her do it so they don't hurt/offend her, even at the cost of their own comfort?

This topic also opens a ton of potential plots for darkfic, but I'll refrain from discussing that out of respect for you and others.

So as you can see, there's much more to explore than 'Knife=Hot'. I believe those discussions and ideas are necessary and provide important fuel for thought when explored fictionally, especially since mainstream media doesn't cover a lot of them.

~~~

I feel I should take a second to clarify knifeplay for those who may be unaware. It doesn't always equate to actual cutting/drawing blood. That can be an aspect, but usually only by those far more experienced and, you know, actually into that. A lot of participants don't actually go that far. Mostly, it's either about the physical sensation of the knife touching you at all, or the adrenaline/controlled fear and intimate trust of a partner bringing an object like that so close/teasing you with it.

In fact, it's frequently advised in those circles (especially to newcomers) to use a dull butterknife instead, because it simulates the same feelings of metal on skin/can dig in a little without any real risk of cutting/drawing blood. Even if one chooses to use a different knife, it's still pretty common to dull the blade, or some people even substitute with a closed pair of scissors (combined with the partner blindfolded, you can't really tell it apart from the real thing).

These versions of knifeplay are well controlled and ultimately pretty harmless, so long as both parties know what they're doing and stay alert. And more experienced players with sharper knives are even more cautious/have studied extensively to know where/how deep to go without risking scarring/serious injury.

Remember the golden rules of kink: Safe. Sane. Consensual.

With those in place, it is not nearly the same as self harm. Just as controlled, consensual, well-negotiated BDSM with safewords, respected boundaries and a trusted partner is never in the same league as abuse.

~~~

Now that that's out of the way, back to my point:

There's no perfect representation or narrative for everyone, in any group (be that gender/sexuality/triggered by certain things, etc). Every human being is different, everyone interprets media differently, and everyone takes away different elements from stories.

What one person in a particular group may find cathartic, relateable, or painful but necessary food for thought, another may find completely repulsive, personally hurtful, offensive, something they can't stand to hear. And guess what? Both of those can be true at the same time. One side is not immediately right over the other.

There are queer characters or interpretations of them in fics that I vehemently despise, might even find hurtful or sickening and think 'how can anyone create this, it's insufferable! People in 'my group' aren't like that, it's a horrible representation. I can't relate to it at all!' But you know what? Other people can and do, may find comfort in those exact narratives and experiences, may heal their pain instead of inflicting more. And that's great. It's what they needed or wanted and if I don't like it, I click away and do my best to avoid it.

There are specific tropes and narrative themes I personally cannot get through without being triggered into anxiety attacks or dragged back to bad times and places in my life. Sometimes I see them tackled in ways that are hurtful or seem insensitive to me. But I recognise that for someone else, it's exactly what they needed to see to get through that or come to terms with it, or see a way they wish that thing could play out. I would never dream of telling those people they aren't allowed to enjoy it, OR telling the creator of that piece of media or a tv show 'Hey ummm please don't use this plot because it turns me into a human wreck for a week'. Because it's not remotely my place to do so. They can create whatever they want, they have no responsibility towards me or my well being. A few might be kind enough to include a warning at the beginning of that episode or in the description, but they are in no way required to. It's up to me to curate my experience and try to keep my guard up/research what might have those tropes, and in the rare occasions I get blindsided, yeah, it hurts like hell. I struggle, I might even backslide a bit. But I just have to try my best to deal with it and make a note to be more careful next time. Because you can't control the world around you, not even the online world, and you have absolutely no right to. The only right you have is to protect yourself without infringing on other people's boundaries/rights.

And there's also another important point. There doesn't have to be a big important point or explanation for why a creator creates something, or why consumers can enjoy that creation! If someone wants to create a plotline with all of my triggers used in the most 'insensitive', 'wrong', pointless ways possible, strictly for Entertainment or pure kink material instead of some deep dissection of the issues involved? They can go hog wild!!! They are 100% allowed to do so on this earth, and I can't (and wouldn't want to) do a thing to stop them.

One person can read a kink fic and it hits a very emotional theme for them/they think it explores a deep topic well. Another person can read that same fic and get nothing out of it except their rocks off. Both of those readers are completely equal and 'allowed' to enjoy that fic. Both reasons are completely valid reasons for why the creator was 'allowed' to post/create that fic in the first place. Nobody needs permission, nobody has to answer to anybody except themselves. Period. This extends to any topic, any type of fic.

Yes, even for things I find absolutely abhorrent and insensitive and don't understand/want to read ever. I may resent everything about its existence, but I will defend to death the creator's right to make it exist in the first place.

It only affects me if I let it affect me. If someone's making content I despise or am upset by and can't handle, I can choose to ignore or avoid them, blacklist those tags, I can block them and move on with my day. I can do anything within my own bubble, but the second I consider going into their bubble and saying they can't make that thing, I am in the wrong. Because I'm not respecting their space and rights.

If someone makes cookies with ingredients I'm highly allergic to, pastes the ingredient warnings all over the box where I read them, and I still eat one, would anyone cheer me on for blaming them when I have a reaction? Would anyone think it was remotely okay of me to start calling up every bakery in town and saying they weren't allowed to bake those cookies EVER, because some people somewhere might be allergic?

No. They'd tell me I was crossing the line, because I'm infringing on other people's boundaries and lives. I'm expecting everybody else to take responsibility for something that, while horrible and painful, was my fault for touching.

Now, if someone sets out unlabelled cookies not realizing I'm allergic to something in them, and I eat it and have a reaction, that sucks. It's an awful experience. But is it the baker's fault? As long as they didn't do it maliciously, not really. They can be advised politely to label it in the future, and I can do my best to remember to ask/be more cautious next time I come across something I'm unsure of, but they're still allowed to bake those cookies for themselves and others.

Now, if I deliberately baked cookies with an ingredient that people are very frequently allergic to (ex. peanuts) and set it out in a crowded buffet without a warning label, that's a jerk move. That's intentionally trying to cause harm to others. But simply baking that flavour of cookies still isn't a crime or harmful by itself.

~~~

I'll be honest, I'm running out of steam and I think I've said most of what I have to say, so I'll wrap it up. I want to reiterate that I'm not ripping into you with this long answer, anon! I understand why you sent me what you did and I'm trying not to come off as harsh. I'm happy to go back and tag things and will tag anything else similar in the future!!! But at the end of the day, regardless of whether I personally end up writing that fic or not, or even want to after I get to that plot, I don't agree with telling anyone they can't/shouldn't write it at all. I wanted to try and explain my viewpoint thoroughly, and I hope you can respect that, just as I'll respect and try to accommodate you and other followers. This is the only time I'll really get up on a soapbox like this, and I have no interest in debating these things on my blog further, but it is a topic I've been passionate about all my life so I'm afraid I'm not budging on it.

#bear gets a letter #not omo #tw knives #tw knifeplay #tw cutting #tw self harm #d/dlc spoilers

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nad-zeta · 4 years

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Match up duo (◠‿◠✿)

if it’s not bothering you i want to request a matchups for ikevamp. i’m not sure if it’s okay to just sent my photos alone but i’ll gave you a short description of myself.

i’m very very short (4'9"). i’m asian and have long black hair. i usually like to wear comfortable clothes but i’m also into goth and pastel.

for my personalities i’m an aquarius, infp-t, i like writing stories/drawing. i like rock/metal music, i like travelling and nature but i don’t mind being inside a lot. i’m a sweet tooth too. mostly i like things that are unique, that not many people know about it.

i consider myself open minded, adventurous, i like to learn new things, i value my freedom. i don’t easily get along with new people but i can be the most talkative person if i knew them well enough. sorry if it’s too long, thank you so much.. i love your blog

Hi, love thank you so much for the request! @blue-imagica No way its never a bother I love doing these requests (◕ω◕✿) I’m so sorry it took me 2 million years to get this to ya! Also, I apologise in advance if it sucks hehe I decided to try my hand at the ikevamp match up in honour of best boi Isaacs route dropping lol Thanx so much for being so sweet I’m super glad you have been enjoying my writing

(/‿＼✿) ❤🔥

Anyways...... hope you have a wonderful day dear and I hope you enjoy it, love! ❤🌼

So I match you with.......................... Vincent

Selfie match up part

The first time this boy sees you he is completely captivated

You remind him of the summer, so bright, pure and innocent

He can’t tear his eyes away from you or, your jet black hair, its unparalleled dimension and the way it naturally flowed in the wind catching the rays of sun and shining

Your dark hair is so thick and shiny, and he is inspired by the way it cascades down your delicate soft skin like waves of midnight on a sandy beach

He is utterly and entirely inspired by you, and he wishes nothing more than go up to his art studio and paint you

All he wanted to do was paint those dark eyes of your, those eyes reflecting the deepest shades of the earth, shining with so much love and warmth.

And oh how easy it is for him to get lost in the universe of your eyes, he loves the way they sparkle and shine, lighting up with a thousand stars when you introduce yourself to him.

If Vincent had to describe you as something it would be an angel, the way you extrude warmth and love, and all he wanted to do was get to know you.

He could easily envision himself with you, the two of you laughing and cuddled up together under the shade of a tree in the midst of a flower field.

Matchup part

You wandered through the mansion aimlessly thinking it was still part of the museum. You found yourself walking into the most beautiful art studio. You looked around and hung on the wall was a painting you knew all too well. Starry Night, you loved that painting, TBH you loved it so much it was actually your phone’s wallpaper at some point. As you continued to admire the paintings that filled the room, a young man with soft blond hair and ocean blue eyes walked through the door. You were awestruck, he was absolutely beautiful, you wondered if you had died and gone to heaven. Your face flushed, as you were rather shy and didn’t do too well with new people. It definitely didn’t help that he was staring at you with stars in his eyes.

Finally, the young artist broke the silence “Oooh I’m terribly sorry for staring, how rude of me, my name is Vincent.” You gave a small smile, how ironic was it that his name was Vincent, he certainly had the same painting style as Thee Vincent van Gogh. You gave a small introduction, and before the two of you could chat, Sabatian burst through the door. He looked at you in shock and disbelief “You, Miss, how did you get in here”, you stared at the butler in confusion “Through the big wooded door, wait isn’t this part of the museum.” With that, Sabastian grabbed your wrist and escorted you to Comte’s room.

Le Comte explained your current situation very calmly over snacks and tea. You were shook, not only did you go back in time, but you were now roommates with the worlds most historical figures and to top it all off they were vampires! You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or scream. You low key though all of this was a dream that is until, Arthur almost bit you when you went to get a glass of water. Luckily for you, Vincent appeared just in time to save you. “Arthur, what do you think you are doing? You mustn’t scare her like that, it’s quite rude,” before Arthur could defend himself or spit out a flirty comment Vincent gently grabbed your hand and lead you away to his room “I’m terribly sorry for Arthur’s rude behaviour, he is super nice once you get to know him.”

You were honestly so spooked and freaked out, that you felt uneasy sleeping in a house full of vampires, especially after one just tried to bite you. As if reading your thoughts Vincent gave you the most angelic smile and asked “Would you like me to stay with you and guard you tonight? I was planning on staying up and painting anyways” You gave a small nod, you were already starting to drift off to sleep, from the long day full of surprises.

You woke up the next day to Vincent’s sunshine smile and honesty you wouldn’t mind waking up to that beautiful smile every day. It was so bright and warm and seemed to melt away all your troubles. You and Vincent made your way downstairs for breakfast. To say Vincent was overjoyed when he found out you were a fellow sweet tooth would be an understatement! It was something the two of you bonded over, and it actually brought you out of your shell a bit. Since that day Vincent would take you to all his favourite cafes to treat you to all sorts of sweet treats.

As the two of you ate your delicious dessert, you found yourself opening up more and more to the painter. The two of you would literally talk each other’s ears off for hours and hours. By the time the two of you made your way home from a day out in the town the sun was already setting

You loved to draw and sketch, and when Vincent discovered this fact, he was overjoyed. One night as the two of you were sitting and sipping on tea together, he spotted your sketchbook laying on the table, and his eyes lit up in delight at your beautiful sketches. As he continued to page, you remembered that you had sketched him paining one day and before you could reach to stop him from paging through your book, he spotted at the exact sketch you didn't want him to see. Your face went red in the sweetest of blushes. You keenly eyed Vincent as he traced his fingers over the sketch, he was completely awestruck. He turned to give you the biggest brightest smile, you definitely didn’t miss the faint blush on his cheeks

Honestly, the two of you had long ago fallen madly in love with the other.

Vincent was determined to make his feelings known one day. The two of you often walked together through nature in search of the perfect scene to paint and draw. The two of you had recently come across a vast, beautiful flower field. It had become somewhat a tradition for the two of you to once a week have a picnic in the field and just enjoy the quiet, peaceful scenery. Often the two of you would lay on the blankie and look up at the sky, cloud watching. One day as the two of you were laying beside each other watching the clouds, Vincents hand gently bumped yours. You smiled and bumped his hand back. He then slowly moved his hand to intertwine his fingers with yours. Both of you turned your heads to look at each other. “I have something I need to tell you” Vincent had a slight blush forming on his face as he beamed up at you “ik hou van jou.” As the phrase left his mouth, he turned away in embarrassment, you sat up and tugged at his hand, you gave him the biggest brightest smile as your other hand moved to cup his cheek “I love you too Vincent”. The two of you then gravitated to meet in the sweetest of kisses. That afternoon the two of you cuties walked back home together hand in hand. You were going to ask Comte of you could stay in the past indefinitely.

The two of you angels made the cutest couple. Often the two of you could be found spending hours and hours together. Vincent would paint, and you would draw. Your favourite was travelling with the young artist. You loved to travel with Vincent and go to all sorts of art exhibitions that would showcase his beautiful paintings. After, the two of you would always wander around hand in hand, on the hunt for a café selling sweet treats. After both of you stuffed your faces with confectioneries, you would walk it off, by wandering around the park/nature together. As the two of you walked Vincent would occasionally lift your hand that he was holding to his lips and kiss the back of it, just to give you a small reminder of how much he loves you.

In fact, this boy absolutely adores you and will 100% drop small little kisses on your temples, forehead, nose and cheeks. Vincent’s all-time favourite is to just rest his head on your lap after a long day of fun and adventures, learning new things together and having fun new experiences. He loves it when you pull your fingers through his golden locks and read your newest piece of writing to him. He absolutely loves to listen to your short stories and poems. Sometimes as he rests on your lap, his mind drifts back to the first day you met, and he thinks it must have been fate, for you to have not only wandered through the door into the mansion, but also for him to have found you in his art studio. Like the universe itself sending him his very own angel to love and to hold for all eternity

Other potential matches................. Theo

I hope you enjoyed this love and i hope you have the best day ❀◕ ‿ ◕❀🌈🔥

#ikevamp matchup #ikevamp #ikevamp vincent #vincent van gogh #Ikemen vampire vincent #vincent #ikesen matchup #ikemen matchup #match ups #vincent matchup

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anubislover · 4 years

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Welcome to the Heart Pirates, Nami-ya chapter 9: Mark of Property

She was back in her room. Not the comfortable bedroom she shared with Robin, which smelled of mikans, fresh flowers, and old books and was full of colorful, girly furniture and cute clothes. There was no golden glow from the lamps or cups of tea steaming on the coffee table. No calls from Luffy to come play a game or strands of Brook’s latest song floating in through the open window.

This was her room in Arlong Park.

Her prison.

Sea charts covered every available surface—tables, chairs, piled in stacks on the floor, hanging from the walls. All of them meticulously hand-drawn, but not on paper—the parchment was made of skin, the ink blood, the pen in her hand a human bone. Furiously, she mapped out her latest chart on a piece of freshly flayed-and-dried skin, Mr. Genzo’s scarred stretched out flat and lifeless, staring up at her.

Her hands were wet with blood, palms torn apart and fingers so twisted it was miracle she could even hold the pen, but she knew she couldn’t stop. Shackles bound her to the hard metal desk, harshly cutting into her thin wrists. The room was swelteringly hot, like a sauna, and sweat mixed with the blood dripping down her fingers onto the parchment, staining it and smudging the details.

“Still alive in here, Nami?” a cruel, deep voice chuckled, his dark shadow casting over her. “Got everything you need? I’m happy to head to town to pick up more paper.”

“I—I’m fine,” she croaked, hand trembling. “I have everything I need.”

Cold, rough fingertips combed through her hair. “Shahahahaha! Of course you do! I’ll always provide for my cute little navigator.” Without warning, a large, webbed hand grabbed her orange locks, slamming her head down onto the desk, smearing the wet blood across her cheeks.

“Look at what you’ve done, you nasty girl! You messed up your chart!” he sneered. Out of the corner of her eye, Nami could see a long, jagged nose and shark teeth viciously grinning down at her. “Guess you’ll need new parchment after all. Take your pick—the rubber boy, or your sister?”

“No, please!” she screamed, frantically trying to claw at his arm, struggling to get free. Her shoulder burned like it was being pierced by a thousand hellfire needles, the swirling, vicious shark insignia once more being slowly etched into her arm. “Don’t hurt them!”

“You’re one of my most trusted officers, Nami—I’ll do anything to help you achieve your dream,” he laughed mockingly. “You’ll stay in this room and draw your charts forever. That’s your place in the Fishman Pirates!”

“Leave me alone!”

“Leave you alone? I could never do that.” Arlong leaned forward until the tip of his saw nose lightly dented the fragile flesh of her cheek. His eyes were like those of a Sea King’s, full of predatory malice. “After all, you’re mine.”

“Nami? Nami! Nami wake up!”

Brown eyes snapped open as Nami was jerked awake, arms instinctively crossing over her face in defense. She tried to kick her assailant, but her legs were tangled in the blankets.

“Whoa, girl, it’s me!” Ikkaku said worriedly, concern written all over her face as she gently stroked her shoulder, hand gently encircling her wrist to pry it from her eyes. “It’s ok, you’re safe. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Heart racing while sweat dripped down her back, it took her a minute to register the engineer’s voice. “Wha…what happened?” she rasped, throat tight and dry. She gratefully accepted the glass of water Ikkaku offered her, the cool liquid fully waking her up. Rubbing her eyes, she took in the room around her. It was the one she shared with Ikkaku on the Polar Tang. There were no charts drawn on the skin of her friends, no blood, no Fishmen looking to enslave her.

“You tell me. Sounded like you were having one hell of a nightmare.”

With a tired groan Nami tried to push away the image of her former captain by focusing on untangling her feet. She glanced at her left arm, grateful to see the pinwheel and tangerine instead of the primal shark. “Yeah. A nightmare. Barely remember it now, though.”

The older woman frowned, clearly not believing her, but she’d learned in the two months they’d spent together that it was best not to pry into the navigator’s past and thoughts. “If you do remember and want to talk, I’m here for you. Or, Penguin’s kind of an amateur therapist—got his work cut out for him on this ship, but he’s a good listener if you need to get something off your chest.”

“I’m fine,” Nami insisted, running a hand through her damp hair. Though not as bad as the dream, the small bedroom felt stifling. “Really, it’s nothing to worry about. Probably just something I ate last night.”

“Alright. Why don’t you grab a shower and we’ll head to breakfast? I’ll strip your bed and toss them in the hamper for you.”

Looking down at the yellow sheets, she was shocked at how sodden they were. Had she been sweating that much? “Good idea. Thanks, Ikkaku,” she sighed, grabbing a pair of short shorts and a low-cut crop top and heading towards the women’s bathroom across the hall. The ship felt stuffier than usual, even though they’d surfaced just the other day. Nami was pretty sure it was because it had been nearly three weeks since they’d made port—Law had insisted on waiting before selling off their stolen goods, more interested in putting distance between themselves and the Marines first to play it safe. It was a fair point, but the thief had argued that the longer they waited, the more time the Navy had to put out descriptions of the various art pieces they’d stolen, which could also put them in danger.

Eventually, after much quarreling, a compromise was reached—they’d fenced Kujakumaru’s watch and melted down the squid statue at Knox Island, and also faxed a photo of Nami burning the blackmail ledger to the nearby Marine base. This would lead the authorities to assume they were making their way down the most southern path of the Grand Line, but in actuality, the Polar Tang would go north, cutting through two of the routes to instead reach the Isles of Grimm. Such a feat would be impossible to do on a normal ship, but the submarine’s high-tech navigational equipment, paired with an eternal pose, made it child’s play.

At first, the navigator had absolutely loved that Law was smart and cautious enough to avoid trouble, but after nearly three weeks, Nami was getting stir-crazy. As much as she’d complained about Luffy getting the crew into unnecessary danger in the name of adventure, she was starting to miss it. There had been no attacks, no mysterious phenomena, no royals in disguise that needed their help. Deep as they were underwater, even the Grand Line’s sudden storms barely affected them.

Somehow, that made her more anxious. It was like being in an isolation chamber, unable to feel the wind and sea in her bones. Or maybe she’d just gotten so used to Luffy’s mad pace that her body didn’t know what to do with itself now that he life hadn’t been endangered in almost a month.

Standing under the cool spray of the shower, she groaned. Part of her also wondered if her anxiety was because of the new birth control Law had put her on. The last one hadn’t been working as well as she’d liked, so he’d given her a shot of a new, stronger drug he’d developed. It wasn’t unusual for her body to react to new meds with a fever or mild insomnia for the first few days, but she was certain once her hormones adjusted to the new chemicals she’d be back to normal. Until then, she’d just have to endure feeling too hot and the occasional bad dream.

Just don’t dwell on it, she thought as she massaged shampoo into her short, mikan locks. Arlong’s gone. Luffy kicked his ass, and he can’t hurt you anymore. Absently, her hand rubbed her shoulder, fingers lightly tracing the thin scars beneath her new tattoo.

What she needed was a distraction. So long as she had something else to occupy her mind, she could push away the unease tingling beneath her skin.

Clean, cooled down, and wide awake, she threw on her clothes and shoes before joining Ikkaku, making their way towards the galley in companionable silence. She appreciated that she didn’t pry—she was beginning to consider the older woman a friend, much like Robin, but that didn’t mean she was ready to talk about her time with the Fishman Pirates. In fact, she was leery about getting too close in general—once the year was up and Luffy’s life debt was squared, their crews would be rivals at the very least.

What if they ended up clashing over the One Piece? What if their captains fought? Would she be able to stand against Ikkaku and Bepo and the others?

Sitting down at the table and shaking those thoughts from her mind, she decided to instead contemplate how different the Heart Pirates were from the Straw Hats. On an average day, by this time Zoro and Sanji would be well into their early morning squabble, Luffy’d be stuffing himself with meat, Usopp would have awed Chopper with his tall tales, there’d be deafening crashes and clangs from Franky’s workshop, and Nami would have punched at least three of her shipmates for any number of reasons.

In contrast, mornings on the Polar Tang were subdued, mainly due to the captain’s terrible insomnia. The lively crew knew better than to cause a ruckus before Law got his morning coffee, respectfully keeping their voices down until he gave them leave to talk.

In some ways, it was nice to have such a well-behaved crew, but it also made the sting of her nakama’s absence that much stronger. Sure, Luffy was a reckless idiot who was always trying to steal her food, but his carefree smile always made mornings a little brighter. Zoro and Sanji’s bickering and Usopp’s boasts were noisy yet comforting after years of traveling alone. Robin and Brook’s very presence was calming, even if the archeologist’s sense of humor was disturbing and the skeleton’s requests to see her panties drove her insane.

I wonder how they’re all doing? Nami wondered, absently pushing her scrambled eggs around her plate. Are they getting enough vitamin C without my mikans? Who’s keeping Zoro from getting lost? Is Robin ok being alone again? What about Brook? It’s not fair that he spent fifty years alone, just to lose his new crew after just a few days.

Brought out of her melancholy thoughts by Bepo taking his place next to her, she gave the bear a smile. “How’re the plans for the garden coming along?”

He returned the gesture shyly. “Pretty well. We’ve picked out a storage room to convert that should be empty once we’ve cashed in the treasure. Clione and the engineers have made some great progress with the sun lamps. Of course, they need to run some tests to make sure plants can really thrive under the conditions.”

She hummed in agreement. “No sense wasting money on seeds and stuff if everything dies right away.”

Bepo nervously twiddled his claws. “I was actually hoping you could help me figure out what we’ll need and work out the costs, since you’re good with money and have real gardening experience.”

It was funny how she wasn’t even tempted to charge him a consultant fee. Scary as she would have thought traveling with a giant bear would be, Bepo was the one she had developed the biggest soft spot for. Maybe it was because it was nice to finally have a fellow navigator to talk to and the Mink was so shy she couldn’t even imagine him as a threat anymore. Or maybe having a talking animal around just made her miss Chopper slightly less. “Sure thing, though I’m no expert on growing plants indoors.”

“Still have more experience than the rest of us,” Penguin pointed out as he kindly refilled her coffee cup.

“True. It’s why I told Captain Law to put you in charge of the garden,” Clione said from the far end of the table.

She frowned at the science officer. “I’m happy to help, but shouldn’t you be in charge of it? You’re Law’s chief biologist.”

“I specialize in marine biology—my knowledge of land plants and animals isn’t nearly as advanced, and that doesn’t mean I can grow anything. You’re honestly the only one here that can get this whole greenhouse experiment to work.”

Teeth worrying her lip, she felt her stomach twist in a knot. The thought of being given such a big project on her temporary ship didn’t sit well with her. What if it wasn’t finished before the year was up? Would they have to abandon the whole thing, or would they insist on keeping her around until it was done? “I’ll teach you what I can before I leave. Ten months should be enough time for you to develop a green thumb,” she insisted, forcing optimism into her voice.

His brow furrowed beneath his blunt bangs at the mention of her leaving. “We’ll see. Before we do any of that, though, we need to get the actual room set up. Aside from sun lamps and fertilizer, we need to set up a sprinkler system, temperature control, and a ton of other stuff.”

“So, we should wait to decide on what to grow, huh?” the bear asked gloomily.

“Oh, cheer up, Bepo. Law always says it’s never too early to plan. Grimm has that great bookshop, so pick up a guide to plants and see which ones will do best in lower light and damp conditions,” Shachi offered, shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth. His broken arm was healing nicely, a sling no longer necessary and the cast scheduled to come off tomorrow. Everyone knew he planned on keeping it, though, since Nami had signed it, the little hearts added around her name coaxing a heavy blush from the ginger.

“Assuming we ever make port,” Nami grumbled.

Sympathetic, he patted her hand. “Hey, we’ll get there; we’ve got you and Bepo as our navigators, right? How much longer is it supposed to be?”

“I actually checked this morning,” the Mink said. “If we stay on course, it shouldn’t be more than three days.”

She immediately perked up. “That’s not so bad. New clothes here I come!”

“Shhh!” Ikkaku shushed, peeking through the doorway. “Captain’s coming—chatter ends now.”

Mouths snapped closed and the crew became extremely focused on their breakfast as Law, groggy and sour, meandered into the galley, making a beeline for the full coffee pot. Penguin had prepped a fresh batch only minutes before, and without even hesitating, the captain raised the glass pot to his lips, gulping down the caffeinated elixir, barely taking a breath between swallows or even seeming to notice the brew was scalding hot.

Two months ago, the sight would have astounded and horrified Nami, but now she just rolled her eyes and let him drink without comment.

Instead, she took the chance to observe him out of the corner of her eye. She could tell he’d been getting less sleep than usual; his hoodie hung off him a bit more, the circles under his eyes were darker, and his already angular face looked narrower. The rest of the crew insisted that Law simply went through worse periods of insomnia once in a while, but Nami was certain it was because he was up late studying those ledgers. He’d spent most of the past three weeks locked away in his quarters or mucking about in the lab, and the few times Penguin had managed to drag him to the galley he’d barely paid attention to what he was eating, his amber eyes fixated on his notes. Once, Nami tried to sneak a piece of bread onto his plate to see if he’d notice, but Shachi snatched it away before the captain could accidentally take a bite.

After a few moments Law blinked away the last specks of drowsiness and turned to the crew, holding the half-finished coffee pot like a mug. “I have good news; we should be making port soon, there’s been no sight of Marines, and my contacts on Grimm are eager to take some gold off our hands.”

The pirates cheered while he fetched his morning onigiri from the fridge, strolling over to take his place at the head of the table, right next to Nami. It had become an unspoken agreement among the crew that she sit at Law’s left side during meals, though she wasn’t sure whether it was due to her status as a guest or because they had ulterior motives.

“Just gold?” she asked under her breath.

He smirked at her. “Well, gold, jewelry, paintings, and a few jewel-encrusted trinkets that I can’t actually discern the purpose of, but you get the idea. Far easier to fence than, say, chemical formulas.”

“Like the one you’ve been working on?” she accused lowly. She hadn’t been able to steal many glances at his notes, and what she had seen had been either in code or nigh-indecipherable scribblings, but with how fixated and secretive he’d been, she was suspicious.

“Why, yes, exactly like the formula for hyper-nutritious fertilizer I’ve been working on with Clione,” he replied smoothly, grin widening at her shocked expression. “Turns out Dr. Vegapunk’s work isn’t all weapons of mass destruction. I know how eager you are to set up that garden, so I thought I’d try to get that finished before we made port.”

Nami glanced at the biologist, who gave a nod of agreement, and she instantly felt reassured. Clione had a terrible poker face, so she knew it had to be the truth. “You didn’t have to exhaust yourself over that,” she scolded lightly. Now that she knew he wasn’t trying to start a war, she felt a little guilty about how much he’d pushed himself over such a minor thing.

“I wanted to have it completed so we’d know what to pick up while in Grimm. I assume you’re going clothes shopping?” he asked around a large bite of onigiri. It was kind of funny how such a fierce pirate had a habit of stuffing his cheeks like a chipmunk, but it was more relieving to actually see him properly eat again.

Mood lightened, Nami flashed a wide smile. “Yup! I’ve got belli burning a hole in my pocket and a wardrobe that needs filling. Nothing makes a girl feel better about being attacked by a giant squid like retail therapy!”

“Speaking of clothes, were you ever supplied a uniform?”

“…yeah, why?”

He shrugged, taking another bite. “Well, considering how Grimm is an archipelago with one of the most dangerous black markets on the Grand Line, you’ll be required to wear it if you plan on leaving the ship.”

“Excuse me?” she asked, eyes narrowing dangerously.

“It’s for your own safety, Nami-ya. The place isn’t as nice as Sabaody—it’s full of brothels, drug dealers, back-alley doctors, pirates, bounty hunters, and slave traders. My uniform basically tells everyone you’re off-limits.”

“Not. Happening,” she sneered through clenched teeth, grip on her fork tightening like she might stab him with it.

There was no way in hell she was going to let Law stick her in one of his gross jumpsuits. Ikkaku might have been able to pull it off, but that was because she had that tomboyish energy; Nami preferred showing off her skin and feminine figure. Plus, she was still leaning on the theory that the Dark Doctor has some kind of weird fetish for fully clothed people, and that uniform basically covered every inch of skin south of her chin.

Most of all, the redhead despised the idea of anyone telling her what to wear. Clothing was more than just a luxury—to her, it was an expression of freedom. Her childhood had been full of hand-me-downs, and then Arlong’s horrible tattoo had further limited her wardrobe, preventing her from wearing certain shirts for fear of people seeing the shameful brand.

That jumpsuit, with the Heart Pirate Jolly Roger plastered all over, was basically a mark of ownership, and Nami would not be another captain’s property.

Law glared down at her, unimpressed at being refused. “I’m giving this order to everyone; if we were heading to a safer island, I wouldn’t care, but the last thing I need is for you to get kidnapped because you’re not recognized as a member of the Heart Pirates.”

Tension simmered in the air as she matched his stare. “I can take care of myself, Trafalgar, and I’m not a member of the Heart Pirates. We agreed nearly two months ago that you weren’t going to subject me to your crew’s dress code, and I’m holding you to that.”

“That was before I realized just how much of a trouble magnet you are. If I left you to your own devices, I’d find you in the grasp of a giant squid monster again. So, if you want to get off the ship, you’re going to wear the damn uniform and stick with at least three of your shipmates.” Taking another swig of coffee, he met her angry eyes unflinchingly. “Otherwise, I’ll have to keep you on my arm the whole trip, and I promise I have no intention of going clothes shopping. So, what’s it gonna be, Nami-ya?”

She glanced around the galley, hoping for anyone to back her up. She knew the guys loved watching her prance around in her skimpy outfits, so surely they wouldn’t want Law to cover her up and make her wear such a conservative, ugly jumpsuit, right? And Ikkaku was always cheering her on when she sassed the captain, so of course she could count on her for backup.

But she found no support among the crew. Everyone was either nodding in agreement or not even paying attention.

“Seriously?” she growled.

“We get it’s not your style, Nami, but he’s right—safety comes over fashion,” Penguin said, voice gentle but expression stern. “You’re a wanted pirate whose face is known all over the Grand Line—of all of us, you’d be the most tempting target for low-life bounty hunters.”

“You’ll appreciate it when you get there,” Ikkaku added. “It’s always damp and cold there, and it’s not like any of my warmer clothes fit you.”

“It’ll just be for a few days,” Jean Bart supplied helpfully. “And maybe if things go well, Captain Law will ease up and let you wear your normal clothes.”

Said captain gave Nami a considering smirk. “Maybe. So long as everyone is on their best behavior.”

With no backup and no alternative, the navigator knew she had no choice but to give in, even as she seethed inside. Part of her argued that she was making a big deal out of nothing, that it was just an outfit, but it just didn’t sit right with her. He’d assured her when they first made their deal that he wouldn’t make her wear the uniform, but here he was going back on his word.

Just like Arlong had.

She shook her head, banishing the thought. For all his faults, Law was a far cry from Arlong, and an ugly uniform was nothing like selling her out to the Marines for the sake of denying her freedom. Hell, she even had three days—more than enough time for him to change his mind. It was such a little thing, after all, so surely if she complained enough he’d give in to her demands to save himself the headache.

XXX

Three days later, the Polar Tang had successfully docked, and Law was leading Nami and half the Heart Pirates through the shady port. Jean Bart, Bepo, Ikkaku, and Uni all carried heavy chests filled with gold bars, artwork, and other goods Law’s contacts could easily fence, while the rest of the group carefully guarded them, keeping an eye out for pickpockets, enemy pirates feeling brave, and undercover Marines.

Appearance-wise, the Isles of Grimm certainly lived up to its name—a thick miasma of fog settled over the port, while narrow streets were lined with buildings made out of dark wood and stone, giving a very claustrophobic feeling. Scantily dressed women called from brothel balconies, and shady figures beckoned unwary travelers into shadowed alleys. Yet despite the atmosphere, it was unquestionably a thriving, bustling port, and the large assortment of shops were to die for. Clothing, books, tools, weapons, cartography equipment, gardening centers, souvenirs, food stalls—the place was practically bursting with places to spend money.

Unfortunately, Nami’s excitement was thoroughly dampened by her outfit. Despite the island’s cool temperature, she felt way too hot in her thick, canvas jumpsuit. Bulky, cumbersome, and unflattering to her gorgeous figure, she was positive it was what she’ll be forced to wear in Hell. It wasn’t even vibrant orange like Bepo’s, but bland off-white like everyone else’s. She was at least able to unbutton the neck and roll up the sleeves show her cleavage and vent the heat, and she’d taken in the waist a bit, but the material still felt coarse and heavy against her overheated skin. Worst of all, there was nothing she could do to hide Law’s Jolly Roger on the back and left breast pocket, branding her a Heart Pirate for all the world to see.

It made her left shoulder sting with a phantom pain, a harsh reminder of her years as one of Arlong’s officers.

“Whoever designed these uniforms should be dragged out into the street and shot,” she grumbled as she pushed down the anxiety her dark memories coaxed to the surface. She didn’t care if Law or anyone else heard her—hell, she’d been plenty vocal of her distaste over the past few days and he still insisted she wear the damn thing!

“At least they have pockets,” Ikkaku pointed out helpfully.

“Literally this thing’s only good point.”

Uni’s quiet voice beside her chimed in, “I know you don’t like it, but trust me, if Captain didn’t feel it was completely necessary, he wouldn’t go through the trouble of making you do it. At the very least, save your complaints until after we’ve cashed in our treasure—we don’t need the extra attention.”

She rolled her eyes but bit her tongue. Uni wasn’t a big talker, but when he did speak, it was usually sound advice. And given how a large group of uniformed pirates carrying goods naturally drew the eye, he definitely had a point.

That didn’t mean she wouldn’t silently pout, though.

As they strolled past the display window of a curiosity shop, Nami saw Law glance at something, then literally walk backwards to get a better look.

“Commemorative coins from the past six Reveries,” he murmured with hushed reverence, nose nearly pressed against the glass. “I’m missing a few of these.” Without even a glance back at the crew he sauntered into the store, Kikoku propped on his shoulder and wallet already in hand.

Surprised, Nami raised a curious eyebrow at Ikkaku, who giggled behind her hand. “Captain’s an avid coin collector,” she said.

Bepo added, “Every time we find treasure, he inspects every single coin in case there’s something he can add to his collection.”

“Seriously?”

“See, you have something in common,” Ikkaku laughed. “You’re both obsessed with money!”

The thief elbowed her in the side, quietly growling that she had “nothing in common with that jerk.”

“Yeah, you do,” Shachi chuckled. “Neither of you like taking orders, either, and you’re both really stubborn and irritable when you don’t get your way.”

“I am not!”

“Then what have the past few days been?” he retorted with a victorious smirk.

She glared but couldn’t quite argue the point. Admittedly, she blamed some of it on the fact that she’d still been feeling hot and anxious, and sleep had continued to be plagued with bad dreams. None so terrible that Ikkaku had to wake her up again, and half of them she honestly couldn’t remember once morning came, but it was at the point that every time she went to sleep, she woke up feeling more exhausted. She had nearly exhausted her supply of concealer covering up the circles that were forming under her eyes. So yeah, she’d been irritable, and maybe the uniform wasn’t the best hill to die on, but their captain was a grump when his insomnia got bad, so maybe they should cut her some slack!

Uni’s blunt tap to her shoulder kept her from bringing this up, as her attention was diverted to the newspaper in his hand. “Thought you might want to take a look at this—seems the world’s caught wind of our connection.”

Russet eyes widened as they landed on the headline, and she felt her heart stop as she quickly read the article.

HAS A STRAW HAT DEFECTED TO THE HEART PIRATES?

As the dust settles on the chilling attack on the Harpin mansion on Tokken Island, many are now claiming that the Heart Pirates did not act alone but were in fact aided by “Cat Thief” Nami.

A member of the Straw Hat Pirates with a bounty of 16 million belli, this elusive burglar was believed to have vanished with the rest of her crew, but several eyewitness reports claim that it was she who assisted “Surgeon of Death” Captain Trafalgar Law, a pirate with a bounty of 200 million belli, in his assassination of former Head of Navy Intelligence Baron “Gorudotako” Harpin Gerald.

“Of course, it was her!” states Inebura Kujakumaru, the late Baron Harpin’s nephew. “She may have struck me down when I valiantly attempted to stop her, but not before I got a good look at her tattoo. Every man’s seen her wanted poster, so I’d recognize it anywhere.”

“I don’t know how those pirates got into my brother’s party, but it had to be her,” confirms Inebura Beatrix, his mother. “Who else could have gotten past Gerald’s security? She and Trafalgar Law are in cahoots, yet the Navy hasn’t done anything about it!”

If such bold claims are true and it is “Cat Thief” Nami, could this be a sign that the Straw Hats are, in fact, dead? Is she the sole survivor and has chosen to defect to a new crew and aid them in their reign of terror?

Despite his family’s statements, Harpin Reginald, who is due to inherit his brother’s estate and become the new governor of Tokken Island, disagrees that the woman seen was really the infamous thief.

“The Straw Hats have been missing for months, but that doesn’t mean they’re dead,” he says. “Moreover, even if they were, why would one of them join a rival crew instead of an ally’s? It seems more likely that it’s an imposter or—excuse the pun—a copy-cat. I would not put it past the Heart Pirates to employ an imitator for the sake of throwing off pursuers and sending the world into an uproar.

“My brother had many enemies, however I doubt the Straw Hats were among them. Her presence makes little sense, and with his abilities, what would Trafalgar Law need a cat burglar for? I believe the young woman is merely an imposter whose presence was designed to send the Marines on a wild goose chase.”

Harpin adds, “However, whether or not the young lady was indeed ‘Cat Thief’ Nami is irrelevant to me. I leave it to the authorities to bring my brother’s killers to justice—my focus is on repairing the damage done to the island, both that caused by the Heart Pirates and Gerald’s gross mismanagement.”

Marine Captains “White Chase” Smoker and “Black Cage” Hina, who were both on the scene and battled the pirates to protect the trapped partygoers, were unavailable for comment, though Navy Headquarters assures the world that they are out hunting the culprits.

“Whether ‘Cat Thief’ Nami has defected to the Heart Pirates or the woman who aided Trafalgar Law is an imposter does not matter,” their formal statement decrees. “She will be caught and stand trial for her crimes of burglary, assault, murder, and piracy. Justice will be served.”

“You know, the biggest surprise in that whole story is that Reginald got the estate instead of the nephew,” came Law’s voice in Nami’s ear, startling her.

“Don’t sneak up on people!” she snapped, hand whipping out to strike him, though he easily dodged.

“But it’s so much fun,” he chuckled.

“You have a twisted idea of ‘fun,’” she growled, cheeks flushing as the stress made her temperature rise further. Part of her knew she couldn’t keep her connection to the Heart Pirates a secret forever, but to see the world speculate on whether she’d switched sides and if Luffy was dead was more painful than she’d imagined.

Her throat tightened as a thought came to her—did the others have access to the news? What would Sanji or Usopp or Robin say if they saw this? Surely they knew her well enough to know she’d never side with another pirate, right?

Taking a deep breath, she told herself to calm down. Of course her nakama wouldn’t believe those lies. Luffy had faith in her.

Her captain had never doubted her loyalty, and he wouldn’t start now.

Calm returned, she gave Law an unimpressed frown. “And seriously, that’s what you’re surprised at? I’m sure the Navy just seized the land and turned it over to Reginald to keep him from telling the world that Harpin had been leaking secrets.”

“Do you really think a man like him would take a bribe?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

“If it’s for the sake of the villagers his brother was willing to frame for terrorism and aiding pirates, then yeah, I do.”

“Hate to interrupt, Boss, but don’t we have an appointment to get to?” Shachi asked, not bothering to hide his amusement at their exchange.

“Yeah. Let’s cash our treasure in, then I think we can go our separate ways.” He tossed Nami a wink. “Hate to delay our Cat Thief’s shopping spree, after all.”

“You are in way too good a mood,” she groused while stomping past him, but she didn’t get far as a long, tattooed arm draped over her shoulder, lanky legs easily keeping pace with her angry strides.

“Cheer up, Nami-ya. Soon you’ll be swimming in cash and clothes,” he said smoothly. He looked much better than he had three days ago—with the fertilizer research done he’d clearly been sleeping better, and he was back to taking regular meals with the crew. The circles under his eyes were still unsettlingly prominent, but he seemed livelier and more alert, which was good considering how they were about to meet with people who regularly did business with pirates. “And personally, I think you look good in my uniform.”

“Of course you would, pervert,” she grumbled under her breath. She didn’t bother trying to shrug off his arm; there was no point, as he always seemed to find some new way to have his hands on her. At least the thick fabric of the jumpsuit dampened his hot, possessive touches.

Either he didn’t hear or simply decided to ignore her as he continued, “If it makes you feel better, you won’t be required to wear it when we go out for dinner tonight. You can wear whatever tiny scraps of clothing you want—just don’t complain when you inevitably get cold.”

“Oh, how generous of you!” she sneered quietly, keeping Uni’s advice in mind but unwilling to stand by and let Law tease her. “Really, it’s so sweet of you to give me permission to choose which of my clothes go on my body!”

Though she refused to look at him, she could feel his disapproving gaze. “Throw all the temper tantrums you want, Nami-ya; I’m not budging on this. It’s for your own safety. Of all of us, you, Bepo, and Ikkaku are the most likely to be targeted by slavers, so I’m making sure they realize that messing with you invokes the wrath of the Surgeon of Death.”

“Then why don’t you just stamp ‘Property of Trafalgar Law’ on our foreheads and be done with it?”

“Keep up your backtalk and I will,” he growled in her ear, leaning in so his hot breath danced across her sensitive skin. “At least for them. You, I’m thinking a collar and leash might be more appropriate, especially if it comes with a muzzle.”

Such a threat should not have made blood rush to her cheeks or her stomach clench, and once again she felt far too hot. “You know, for all Luffy’s flaws, at least he never forced his weird kinks on us,” she sassed, resisting the urge to open up the jumpsuit more so she could fan her flushed chest.

Law scoffed. “That’s because I’m not even sure he knows what sex is. Boa Hancock could throw herself at him wearing nothing but a smile and he wouldn’t even blink.”

“That’s not true,” she insisted. “At the very least, he seemed to appreciate seeing me naked.”

Next to her, the Supernova actually stumbled. “Wait, what? When did he see you naked?”

“Does it matter? Actually, he still owes me money for that.” Numbers adding up in her mind, she nodded to herself. “Add on two years of interest and I’ll be making a tidy profit off him.”

“I’m sorry, you charged him money to see you naked? I thought prostitution wasn’t in your repertoire?”

Craning her neck to glare up at him as she smacked his chest, she snapped, “Watch it, Trafalgar. He and the boys decided to spy on me in the bath, so I charged them 100,000 belli each. If you ask me, I was being nice for such a gross violation of privacy!”

His arm left her shoulder to raise up in surrender. “Ok, that’s fair. Considering what Ikkaku’s done to anyone dumb enough to peek on her, charging them is pretty light. My comment was out of line, and I apologize.”

“Are you sorry enough to let me wear my regular clothes?”

“Hell no, and if you keep trying to wheedle your way out of it, I’m going to make you wear it back on the ship, too.”

By that point, they’d left Grimm’s cramped shopping quarter to arrive at the meeting place—the much more open fields of the warehouse district. Gold eyes scanned the area before leading the crew inside an innocuous grey building that smelled faintly of spoiled vegetables. A few gas lamps allowed just enough light to see the dozen men waiting on the far side of the building, all muscular and rough looking, save one.

“Ah, Captain Law,” the scrawny man in front welcomed nasally. He wore a pinstriped, dark purple suit and silk top hat with a bejeweled buckle, straw-like hair sticking out in haphazard clumps as he gave a yellow-toothed smile. “So good to see you again.”

“Jinzo,” he replied with a curt nod, removing himself from Nami’s side to shake the man’s hand. “Where’s Kimo-ya?”

“Ah, my partner was victim to an unfortunate…accident just a few days ago. No clue whether or not he’ll recover, so I’m here in his stead. Really, it’s for the best; he may be well-versed in the organ trade, but I’m the one who specializes in gold.”

“If you say so,” he replied. He appeared bored, but Nami could see from the way his stance widened slightly that he was prepared for any sudden attacks. He was a smart man, and past black market dealings had taught him to never underestimate a man willing to regularly do business with pirates.

“Speaking of, I heard you amassed quite the haul on Tokken Island, and I see the reports weren’t exaggerated!”

Jerking his head, Law signaled for Jean Bart to open his chest. Even in the dim light, the gold bars gleamed like the sun. Belli signs appeared in Jinzo’s eyes as he eagerly took in the remains of the gold squid statue. After a moment, Jean Bart closed the lid with a snap, bringing the broker’s attention back to the captain.

“You’ve got the amount Kimo-ya and I agreed on?” Law asked.

“Ah, about that—you see, while your wares are certainly impressive, I’m a man of business. Kimo may have had a soft spot for you since you supplied him with so many…fresh goods, but I can’t allow his bias to affect my profits. I’m afraid that with the fees Mr. Giberson will charge me for using his warehouses to store the goods, plus the time and effort I’ll have to go through to fence off the individual pieces, your asking price was a bit high. So, I’ve decided not to give you a belli more than 200 million.”

“Excuse me?” Law snapped at the same Nami exclaimed “What?!” The rest of the Heart Pirates appeared just as outraged, with more than a few hands dropping to their weapons.

“It’s a perfectly fair price!” Jinzo insisted. “I’m even being charitable and including the bribe you’d inevitably have to pay me to keep me from selling you out to the Marines.”

“There’s more than that amount in a single chest,” the Surgeon of Death growled. “Kimo-ya and I agreed on 655 million.”

“I’m under no obligation to honor such a ridiculous price. I have warehouses fees, employees to pay, officials to bribe, and more. 200 million is fair.”

“Yeah? Well I’ve got a crew to pay, provisions to purchase, and a high-tech sub like mine isn’t cheap to maintain—655 million belli was me being generous, and that’s because I had such a good working relationship with your partner.” Gold eyes narrowed dangerously as his grip on Kikoku shifted. “As a businessman, I’m sure you understand that changing the price so drastically tends to sour a deal.”

He scoffed. “From what I heard, this isn’t even your full haul—I’d say I’m the one being cheated. Technically I’m paying 400 million belli, since I’m also giving up the chance to turn you in for your bounty.”

“Are you threatening me?” Law growled, the brim of his hat casting his eyes in menacing shadow.

“Oh no; I’m just saying that you should pick your battles carefully. Now, I have no time to barter like a fishmonger—I have other appointments after you. If you don’t like my offer, go peddle your wares to someone else.”

“That’s a great idea,” Nami chimed in, sauntering up next to Law, eyes narrowed in determination and a Cheshire smile on her lips. She hadn’t originally planned on getting involved, but if there was one thing she hated, it was watching someone try to cheat her and her associates out of their hard-earned money. “We do have other brokers lined up, don’t we, Captain? So, what’s stopping us from turning around right now and selling all this off to them?”

“Nami, what are you doing?” Shachi whispered behind her, but a signal from Law told him to back down.

“My subordinate is right,” Law replied, wrapping a long arm around her waist, squeezing her side gently in a silent show that he understood what she was doing and willing to play along. “We came here first as a favor to Kimo-ya, since he’s always been so good to me. I wanted to keep our working relationship strong, but if you’re taking over and won’t honor his price, we’ll have to take our business elsewhere.”

“You won’t find anyone on this island willing to pay you better,” Jinzo sneered. “I practically own the black market on these isles. Hell, I’ve got enough clout with the Underworld at this point that I could ensure no one this side of the Red Line will so much spit on you if you’re on fire.”

With a nonchalant shrug, he countered, “Then I’ll just head to the New World and open my trade there. If you’ve got so much influence, then my usual customers won’t retaliate when business from their favorite heart stealer suddenly dries up.”

“And your other appointments will have no issue working with a man who would turn a client in to the Marines,” Nami added with a cat-like smile.

Paling, Jinzo’s entire body went tense. Nami didn’t know much about the organ trade, but she’d wager that the type of people who specialized in buying and selling body parts wouldn’t have much problem with recouping their lost profits from the man who drove away their best supplier. Pirates she did know, though, and they definitely wouldn’t stand for government snitches.

“Perhaps…perhaps I could bump my offer up to 400 million,” he stuttered. “As a show of good faith.”

“Mmm, sorry, but that’s just not good enough,” Nami sighed, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. She was in her element—belli and bartering. When money was involved, she barely even noticed the stuffy heat of her jumpsuit, and the tension in her bones practically vanished. For the first time all day, she was calm and in control. “I mean, we went through a lot to get this gold, and you just threw that hard work back in our faces. Months of planning, injured crewmembers, emotional trauma, transportation fees—it all adds up. We won’t part with a single piece of gold for less than 730 million belli.”

“What?!” Jinzo shouted as Law gave her a curious glance.

Smirking, the thief winked at her partner. “Captain Law was giving a generous discount to Mr. Kimo, but as you’ve so astutely pointed out, you and he don’t share such a close relationship. So, your price, Mr. Jinzo, is 730 million.”

“I won’t pay that! Perhaps I could accept 523 million without the bribe, but you’re being simply outrageous! And I’m not haggling with some rookie upstart’s whore!”

“And just for that insult, you’ve upped the price to a cool 750 million,” Law cut in, voice low and dark, sending a shiver down the spine of everyone in the warehouse. His grip on his nodachi had noticeably tightened, and even a man as arrogantly foolish as Jinzo could tell that he was on dangerously thin ice. “That’s my final offer, by the way. Try to talk me down or degrade a valued member of my crew again, and I’ll not only walk away, but I’ll take your heart and a few other major organs for my trouble. Kimo-ya and I got on so well because he respected my abilities and knew not to play games with the Surgeon of Death. So make your choice: belli or body parts?”

Nami could see that while the guards tensed, they looked more ready to run than defend their employer. It wouldn’t surprise her; she doubted Jinzo was paying them enough to risk getting their hearts ripped out, and if they knew anything about Law’s abilities, they’d know even running wouldn’t do them much good.

Seeing he was outgunned and outmaneuvered, the dealer clenched his fists but finally gave a stiff nod. “Fine. Men, hand over the cash.”

Grunting, three men lugged over five large briefcases. Cocking an eyebrow, Law activated his Room, scanning their contents. “You’re 25 million short,” he said, tone belying mild amusement.

“This is all the money I brought for the next three deals I had scheduled for today! Thanks to you, I’m going to have to reschedule so I can get more,” he snapped with a deep scowl. “My next client in particular will not be happy about that, and I won’t hesitate to inform him of exactly whose fault it is,” he sneered, eyes burning holes into Nami’s skull.

“I’m quaking in my boots. Still, since you can’t pay up, we’ll just keep some of the treasure.” Leading Nami over to Ikkaku’s chest, he opened it, the diamond necklaces and gem-encrusted trinkets twinkling in invitation. “Nami-ya, you’ve got a good eye for appraisal—see which of these can be removed to better match Jinzo-ya’s budget.”

Nodding, she carefully studied the contents of the chest, clever brain rapidly crunching numbers before she finally reached in, carefully removing a small, egg-shaped music box, its alabaster surface studded with pinhead-sized sapphires and spiderweb-thin seams of rose gold. Admiring the craftmanship and beauty for a moment, she carefully handed it to Law. “This is easily worth 25 million.”

With a smirk he shoved the music box into his hoodie pocket, snapped the lid of the treasure chest shut, and activated his Room again, switching the chests in his crews arms with the briefcases full of money in the guards’. “Then it seems our business is concluded.” Turning to leave, he flipped Jinzo off over his shoulder. “Bit of advice, Jinzo-ya; don’t try to cheat pirates, especially those of the Heart variety. It’ll get you killed one of these days.”

Eager to escape the off-putting stench and stuffy heat of the warehouse and hateful glare of the underworld broker, Nami didn’t even mind when Law’s hand settled on her lower back, gently but firmly pushing her towards the exit. Though Law had gotten in the last word, it was obvious that Jinzo’s vitriol was focused on the woman who had managed to nearly quadruple what he’d planned to pay with just a few words. It sent a cold shiver down her spine, which would have been a welcome relief if her stomach wasn’t twisting up in anxious knots.

Once outside and making their way down the road, the Dark Doctor grinned proudly down at Nami. “From now on, I’m taking you to all my business meetings. That was a thing of beauty.”

“Damn straight it was!” Ikkaku cheered from behind them, pumping a fist in the air. “Son of a bitch will think twice before trying to screw us again!”

Jean Bart chuckled. “Wish I’d had someone like you on my crew back when I was a captain—could have bought a private island and retired early instead of getting enslaved.”

Nami shrugged but glowed under the praise, mood further improved by a cool breeze fanning across her heated skin. “Oh, it was nothing special. I did all the negotiations on the Sunny, so I’ve had plenty of practice. When Luffy, Usopp, and I traded in our gold from the sky islands, a banker tried to offer us only 100 million belli, but I convinced him to triple the price,” she said with a saucy wink.

“How the hell was Straw Hat not swimming in cash?” Shachi asked, astounded.

She sighed, brow twitching in irritation. “Half the time he’d leave the treasure behind because ‘the villagers needed it more.’ I mean, he was usually right, but it drove me crazy.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that with us!” he said with a grin. “With you on our crew, the Heart Pirates won’t even need the One Piece!”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Law said. “The One Piece isn’t just treasure—it’s the only way to become King of the Pirates. I’m not going to settle for riches when the ultimate prize is out there waiting for me.”

Right, he wants to be Pirate King, too, Nami thought, frown deepening in concern as her muscles tensed. It’s one thing to help a guy to square a debt, but I can’t help him steal Luffy’s dream! “I’m kind of surprised you guys are still on this side of the Red Line, then—aren’t you worried someone else will get to it before you?” she asked cautiously.

“Nah. With Whitebeard dead, the New World’s in absolute shambles—hundreds of pirate crews are going to sail to their deaths while the Emperors fight over territory. I’ll let those underprepared idiots take themselves out, then cross over when the time is right.”

A small, relieved puff of air escaped her lips. With luck, he wouldn’t take that leap until she was back on Weatheria, though she was now nervous about what kind of chaos she’d be sailing Luffy into.

The cooling breeze vanished as they once more entered the sheltered streets of the shopping quarter. Ushering them off to the side so they wouldn’t draw too much attention from curious vendors, Law finally removed his hand from Nami’s back to activate his Room. Quickly and quietly, he teleported a few wads of cash into each crewmember’s pockets. Weird as it felt, Nami had to appreciate that it was far safer than handing out wads of money where any onlooker could see and pick out an easy mark.

“Alright, I suppose this is where we all head off to enjoy the fruits of our labors. Jean Bart, Uni and I will head back to the ship to get everyone else their share and lock up the rest of the cash. As for the rest of you, avoid fighting unless necessary, stick to your groups, and don’t make yourself a target.” With a smirk, he took Ikkaku’s briefcase before glancing down at Nami. “Enjoy your shopping, Nami-ya, but no ditching the uniform.”

“Good thing you won’t be around to stop me,” she quipped. Without the breeze, Nami was once more close to sweating in her jumpsuit, and despite no longer being under Jinzo’s penetrating stare, the anxious knot hadn’t quite managed to untwist in her belly. Her body was still on high alert, her senses sharp in anticipation, which just made every brush of heavy fabric more abrasive. Without thinking, she grabbed the collar of her suit to fan herself, only to stop upon realizing she was inadvertently giving Law a better view of her cleavage.

“Good thing Ikkaku, Bepo, and Shachi are under strict orders to make sure you behave yourself,” he shot back, tone laced with amusement as he eyed the flushed mounds of flesh, causing Nami to heat up further with embarrassment.

She cursed under her breath. Not only had she basically flashed Law—which he’d probably assumed was her flirting—but he’d successfully backed her into a corner. If it were just one of them, she might have been able to talk her way into a change of clothes, but with all three she knew she was shit out of luck. One Heart Pirate could be reasoned with, but when they were in a group, the captain’s word was law.

Seeing the despairing expression on her face, Ikkaku wrapped her arm around the younger woman’s shoulders, inadvertently rubbing the uncomfortable fabric against her scars. “Cheer up, Nami—Boss is just worried that two stunning pieces of ass like us will captivate the whole island with our insanely good looks. He doesn’t want anyone carrying away his two hottest subordinates.”

The redhead had to chuckle a bit at that, even if her stomach twisted further at being so earnestly referred to as “Law’s subordinate.” It was unsettling how everyone acted as if this was more than just a temporary alliance.

“I’m happy to carry your bags, Nami,” Shachi offered with a boyish grin, hoping to raise the navigator’s spirits.

Law frowned. “Your cast just came off; don’t over-exert yourself.”

“I’ll be fine, Boss! How heavy can clothes be?”

“Well, if you insist,” Nami cooed sweetly, fluttering her eyelashes. With luck, the time she took to try on clothes would be enough to cool her down, and she would never say no to someone else carrying her things. “Thank you, Shachi-kun.”

His cheeks turned as red as his hair and he rubbed the back of his head bashfully. “A-anytime, Nami.”

Glancing over at Bepo, Law sighed. “Anything goes wrong, find me immediately. Marines, enemy pirates, angry mobs with pitchforks, whatever. And don’t let Nami-ya out of your sights. I’m counting on you.”

“Aye-aye, Captain!” the trio shouted as Nami rolled her eyes.

They’re like a bunch of eager puppies, she thought as they led her away, eagerly chattering about which store they should hit first.

Feeling an intense stare, she turned her head slightly to see Law watching her go, a satisfied smirk creeping to his lips. Realization hit her quickly and her entire body tensed up—he was staring at the Jolly Roger on her back.

His emblem. His trademark. His property.

It was the same way Arlong would stare at her, only hungrier.

Unnoticed by her companions, her muscles remained tense even as they walked away, heart pounding so loud she nearly didn’t hear Ikkaku when she asked, “So, where to first?”

“How about the bookstore?” Bepo offered, poking his long claws together.

“Hey, it should be Nami’s decision!” Shachi scolded, to which the bear offered a weak apology.

“The bookstore’s fine,” she choked out, willing her racing heart to calm down. There was no need to panic—Law was probably just staring at her like that because he was a weird pervert who got turned on by people in baggy clothes. Somehow, his anti-nudity fetish was a lot more comfortable than the idea that he saw her the way the Fishman Pirates had—a tool to be used and kept at any cost.

“Books it is,” Ikkaku declared, looping their arms together and dragging them down the winding roads. Luckily, the further they got from the intense captain, the easier it became to breathe, her heartbeat nearly back to normal by the time they entered the bookshop.

The smell of paper, ink, and leather binding finished the job, as it reminded Nami of the library on the Thousand Sunny, and even more of Robin. Looking around, she had to grin at the tall shelves of books that made the store a veritable maze. Robin and Chopper would spend hours in a place like this, browsing and picking out an enormous stack of medical tomes, novels, historic texts, and more to fill the ship’s library with. The memory brought a smile to her face as her anxiety receded like an ocean wave, and the cool, dry air against her skin allowed Nami to regain her enthusiasm for shopping.

“If anyone needs me, I’ll be over by the ‘How To’ manuals and laughing,” Ikkaku called before disappearing into the stacks.

Shachi shook his head, but there was a hint of an affectionate smile at the corner of his lips. “Someone’s really got to tell her one of these days that those books are supposed to be serious instructions, not comedy.”

“But not you?” Nami joked.

“Not a chance. I’m going to grab the latest issue of Sora, Warrior of the Sea, then check out the fashion magazines. The other day Penguin said my hat’s the ugliest thing in existence, so by the end of today I wanna find something so ridiculous he’ll beg me to change back.”

Down to two, Bepo gave a shy smile. “Want to check out the horticulture section with me?”

It was almost physically painful to deny any request for the bear, but there was something she wanted to grab first, and she didn’t need him finding out her guilty pleasure and potentially spilling it to his captain—that jerk did not need any more ammo to use against her. Patting his arm, Nami replied, “I’ll meet you there later—I realized during the long, boring trip from Knox that I was in desperate need of good literature, and no offense, but your ship’s library just doesn’t have anything to my taste.”

“Not even my navigational books?” he asked sadly.

“Oh, those were fine, but I mean reading for pleasure. You know, a good, exciting novel. Without Luffy around, I’m actually starting to miss the thrill of adventure.”

The bear scratched his snout. “Huh. Personally, I like that Law doesn’t take unnecessary risks, but I guess everyone’s different. I can wait while you pick out your books.”

Waving her hand nervously, she insisted, “Oh, no, it’s ok! You start checking out the books on plants and I’ll join you in a bit!”

“But Law told me not to let you out of my sight.”

Exasperated, she rolled her eyes. “I know, but I’m not going to run off or ditch the uniform—knowing my luck, I’d run into him the second I walked out of the store.”

Cocking his head in thought, Bepo finally nodded. “Ok, but you’d better keep your word—if you disappear, Law’ll be really mad at me,” he said, ears drooping and grey clouds forming over his head at the mere thought.

“I promise I’d never intentionally do anything that would get you in trouble,” she said earnestly, provoking a happy grin from the massive Mink.

“Ok! Just don’t take too long!”

Sighing in relief as Bepo jogged off to the gardening section, the coast was finally clear for Nami to creep to the back corner of the store where she’d spotted her prize.

Romance and Erotic Fiction.

Though most assumed she only read cartography books, fashion magazines, and almanacs, in truth these were her guilty pleasure. Running her fingers down the spines of the paperbacks—many sporting a half-dressed woman wrapped in the passionate embrace of a shirtless, unnaturally chiseled man on the cover—she wracked her brain for the list of novels she’d read and which ones she’d been looking for. Her tastes were fairly specific; the setting had to be interesting, the sexual tension palpable, and the leading lady had to be smart and sassy while the men were sensual and mysterious.

“Aha!” she squealed, eagerly plucking the book she’d been searching for from its place on the shelf: To Catch a Turtle Dove. It was about a beautiful and resourceful thief who decided to rob the royal palace but was caught by the dark and dangerous ruler. She’d bought a copy back in Saboady, the first few chapters having captivated her when she’d read them in the store, and she wasn’t going to wait nearly two years to find out what happened. The thief had just made it to the royal ball, and if the intense eye contact she’d made with the lord from across the room was anything to go by, it was worth buying a second copy.

“What are you doing back here?” a voice from behind asked, making her nearly leap out of her skin.

“Damn it, Ikkaku, don’t scare me like that!” she growled as her heart started palpitating again. What was with Heart Pirates and sneaking up on her, anyway? Did Law order them to do it to mess with her, or was it an unconscious habit they’d picked up from their captain?

The older woman looked at the erotic fiction novels around them, raising a dark eyebrow. “Didn’t think you were into this kind of stuff, Nami,” she teased.

A faint blush warmed her pale cheeks, though the teasing tone did calm her down. Ikkaku really was like Robin in the strangest ways. “Shut up,” she grumbled. “A girl’s got needs, right?”

“Hey, not judging—if anything, it explains how you’re able to hold your own against the captain. Most girls swoon at just a few of his lines, but you’ve probably seen them all before, huh?” she said with a wink.

Nami giggled, glad Ikkaku was laughing with her, not at her. “Something like that. Besides, why bother with real men and all their flaws when you can get the same result from a good book?”

“If all it takes is words on a page to get you off, you’re even more repressed than I thought,” Ikkaku sniggered, easily blocking Nami’s indignant punch. “And trust me, men may be idiots, but a good, hard fuck is worth more than any book.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” she scoffed, turning around to pick out a few more paperbacks.

Casually browsing the titles beside her, Ikkaku said, “You know, it’s pretty obvious that the captain’s into you—”

“Nope!” Nami cut her off, cheeks going crimson. “Don’t even suggest it! Ours is a purely business relationship and there are so many ways getting physical with him could go wrong. I’ve got ten months left with you guys, and I’m not putting myself in an awkward position.”

“Make all the excuses you want, but I know you’re just mad that he’s beating you at your own game.”

“Not true.”

“Please, Bepo told me how you managed to give Law that sunburn, and the hickey you came back from the gala with says he paid you back with interest. What’s awkward is watching you act like such a tsundere about it.”

“I’m not—like you said, I’m just a little pent up. A few steamy novels and it’ll be out of my system, without the messy consequences that come with sleeping with your captain.”

“If you’re not going to indulge, at least consider investing in a decent vibrator,” she sniggered. “Because I can tell you, when Law wants something—or someone—he does whatever it takes to get it. If you think he’s a massive tease now, it’s only going to get worse as time goes on, and I’ve seen stronger pirates than you fall at his feet. If anything, those books’ll just make you hornier.”

“You know what, Ikkaku—” Nami started, annoyance and embarrassment making her temper flare.

“Miss Nami, when you’re done, can I get your opinion, please?” Bepo asked shyly, fuzzy white head poking around the corner.

Reigning in her emotions while quickly hiding her books behind her back, she flashed him a smile. “Sure thing, Bepo! Just give me a minute!”

He returned the smile, disappearing back into the store, surprisingly quiet for a creature his size.

With a grin, Ikkaku shook her head and took the naughty paperbacks from Nami’s hands. “Here—I’ll grab these for you while you help our favorite crewmate. I’m sure you don’t want him asking awkward questions about what you’re reading, right?”

Coughing into her fist, Nami looked away bashfully. “Thanks.”

“We’ll finish this discussion later. I saw a flyer for Ladies’ Night at one of the local bars tomorrow. Wanna join me?”

“Sounds fun, but only if you promise to go five consecutive minutes without talking about your boss while we’re there. I don’t want our whole friendship to be based around your matchmaking schemes.”

“And here I thought teasing you was fair payment for letting you steal my clothes,” she laughed, bumping their hips together. “Remember you owe me an outfit, by the way.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nami laughed before taking off to find Bepo. Despite her teasing, Ikkaku was a good friend. She just really needed to lay off the insinuations that she and Law needed to get it on.

XXX

Three hours and eight clothing stores later, Nami was completely ready to ditch the boiler suit. The boutiques hadn’t been as pleasantly cool as the bookshop even when she stripped down to try on new outfits, and every time she had to put back on that hot, confining garment had felt like torture. Parts had even started becoming damp with sweat, furthering her discomfort. The heat was exhausting, too, yet she still felt anxious, trapped energy thrumming under her skin like she’d drank too much coffee.

The uniform was ruining her shopping experience in other ways, too. Thanks to its completely unflattering silhouette and drastic lack of sex appeal, flirting her way to better discounts was harder than usual. Sure, her cleavage and fluttering eyelashes had gotten her down to 50% off in the shoe store, but the clerk at the lingerie boutique had barely given her 30%! Plus, every time she caught a glance at herself in a mirror, dressed head-to-toe like a Heart Pirate, Jolly Roger grinning at her from her left breast pocket, she felt her scar throb. No matter how many cute outfits she tried on, all she could see was that damn insignia mocking her, declaring she was once more some sick pirate’s property.

“I hate this thing so much,” she groaned, irritably tugging the zipper down to her sternum, hoping to vent just a little more of the heat trapped beneath the thick canvas. “Please, can’t I take it off now?”

“Sorry, hun, but it’s for your own safety,” Ikkaku replied with a frown. She couldn’t understand why Nami was complaining so much; yeah, it wasn’t the sexiest ensemble, but it kept Grimm’s damp chill and the scumbags at bay. “Just hold on a bit longer, then we’ll head back to the ship and you can change out of it.”

The thought of going back to the ship made her whine pathetically. The submarine would be even hotter—she was wholly starting to sympathize with Bepo. Hell, how was he not dying in his own jumpsuit? He had fur, shouldn’t he be suffering just as much?

“Cheer up, Nami!” Shachi said from behind the mountain of boxes he was carrying. His healed arm was certainly being put to the test, but Nami couldn’t feel too guilty—after all, he’d offered. “I think you look great in the uniform!”

“Yeah,” Bepo added with a smile. He had also been roped into carrying the girls’ purchases, the dozens of shopping bags looped around his arms sticking out like colorful wings. “You really look like one of us.”

She froze in her tracks as her heart stopped. “…excuse me?”

“You look like an official member of the Heart Pirates,” he said, cocking his head in confusion at her tone. Surely, that was a nice compliment, right?

“Soon enough you’ll be sporting a tattoo!” Ikkaku teased, not noticing how pale Nami’d become due to the dark shadows cast by the buildings.

The redhead’s blood went cold. She knew they were kidding. She prayed they were kidding. Her hand unconsciously gripped her shoulder, clutching at the phantom tattoo. The mark she still had nightmares about.

“Hey, that’s a great idea!” Shachi exclaimed, certain he’d found the solution to keep both the pretty navigator and their captain happy. If not, hopefully it would make her appreciate the jumpsuit a bit more. “If you got a tattoo, maybe Law’ll ease up on the dress code. We’ve all got one—it’s how we can show we’re Heart Pirates even out of uniform.”

“I don’t,” Bepo pointed out.

“That’s because you can’t tattoo fur, idiot!”

“Sorry.”

Not wanting to deal with an argument between the two males, Ikkaku cut in, “Sounds good to me. How about it, Nami? I happen to know an artist who’ll give you a great discount,” she added with a wink.

“Of course she wants one! The real question is; where should she get it?” Shachi joked. “Law’s got it on his back, and Penguin’s is on his shin. Don’t ask where mine is—at least, not without buying me dinner, first!”

“Tramp stamp. You’re definitely getting a Heart Pirate tramp stamp,” Ikkaku laughed, deviously rubbing her hands together. “I’ve already got the design sketched out!”

Though it was said in jest, all Nami could hear was cruel cackling as she was overwhelmed by the memory of being helpless and in pain, branded by a sick and possessive monster.

“Hold still, human!” Chew sneered as the needle pierced her skin.

“Stop it! It hurts!” Nami screamed, her tiny fingers desperately clawing at the table Kuroobi pinned her down on. His enormous hands easily spanned her entire back, but she refused to just lay there and let them brand her. Tears rained from her large, childish eyes, lip bleeding from the slap Chew had given her earlier.

“Smek. Who cares if it hurts? Quit wiggling around so I don’t mess up.” The clammy, webbed hand on her arm tightened, cutting off the blood flow and threatening to crack the fragile bone beneath as he continued to ink the design.

“Shahahahaha! You should be honored, Nami! You’re the only human in the world to be graced with my mark,” Arlong laughed from his chair, watching her futile struggles like a shark would an injured baby seal. “Consider it your official welcome to the Fishman Pirates!”

“I don’t want it!” she screamed as another wave of agony wracked her tiny body. In all of her ten years she’d never felt such pain, and she was helpless to do anything about it. “Make it stop!”

Kuroobi’s hands pressed down harder against her back, forcing the air from her lungs. “We don’t take orders from worthless humans,” he sneered, blue-tinged face twisting in a sneer.

“It’s for your own good, girl,” Arlong said with a twisted smile. “Someone with your raw talent is a valuable commodity. Pirates the world over are gonna want you—I’m just making sure they know to keep their hands off.” Getting up, he strolled over to the pinned girl with the casual grace of a barracuda in the water. Course as sandpaper, the tip of his finger stroked across her tear-stained cheek. “I’m keeping you safe—after all, you’re part of my crew.”

“Nami, are you ok?”

Pulled from the horrible memory, the navigator stepped away from her companions, russet eyes wide with fear. “You’re not tattooing me,” she gasped. It felt like Kuroobi’s hand were still crushing her chest, and her nails dug into her left shoulder so hard they threatened to dig through the off-white canvas.

“Hey, it’s just a—”

“I’m not letting you fuckers brand me like cattle!” she shouted, fear replaced by fury as she pulled out her Clima-Tact, brandishing it as threateningly as she could despite her shaking arms. Nami was a wild animal backed into a corner, desperately showing her claws in hopes of scaring off her hunters.

The Heart Pirate trio froze, jaws dropping in shock. “Whoa, Nami, that’s not—”

“Quit acting like I’m one of you! Quit acting like I’ve betrayed Luffy! I’m a Straw Hat, not a Heart Pirate!”

“Hey, no one’s saying you betrayed anybody,” Ikkaku assured, hands raised in hopes of showing she was no threat to the young navigator. “We’re just trying to make you feel welcome.”

“I don’t want your welcome!” she shrieked. Cold sweat ran down her back, her heart was racing, and her body was on fire. She felt trapped, both by the people across from her and by the stifling jumpsuit. “I don’t want your fucking tattoo, or your uniform, or—”

“The uniform’s to keep you safe!” Shachi insisted, silently motioning for Bepo to sneak around and subdue her before she hurt herself. He took in her flushed cheeks, ragged breathing and glazed eyes, and his tone softened with concern. “Look, why don’t we head back to the ship? You don’t look so great, and I’m sure if you talk it out with the captain—”

In her panicked brain, she didn’t register that they meant Law, not Arlong. “I’m not going back! I’m not that monster’s property!” she screamed as she blasted a heavy gust of wind from her staff, knocking the trio back hard into a nearby fruit stand. The tower of clothing and shoe boxes collapsed, falling on top of them, and vendors nearby shouted as their carts were upended.

Using the chaos to her advantage, Nami dashed off, ignoring the worried cries of the Heart Pirates behind her.

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iprincezzinuyoukai · 5 years

Text

Before anyone says it, yes, I know it sounds like the title of a GRRM book, but I actually thought about it when I was listening to HTTYD’s OST. So you’ll know what this is all about then.

I swear that I read several articles and even saw several videos so that I could decide what kind of ritual I wanted, but considering that originally Rodan was going to have the characteristics of an eagle and I’ve seen one or another cartwheel, those are magnificent to see in person, by the way, so that’s how this came to be. By the way people doing these drawings and fanfictions are doing God’s

I’m not sure if I did a good job with how I put it, it was one of my best attempts as a writer, if I’d been an animator or an artist maybe things would be different, so I hope you like it... And yes, there will be a next part soon.

Again Tumblr didn't leave me put a read more! Once again this goes to my AO3 (same username, don’t blame I was very lazy to think of different usernames)

Dance of Titans

Isla De Mara soon got used to the presence of its Titan. It wasn’t as if they’d any other choice, the world was slowly beginning to accept the idea of living with the Titans, after being assured by Monarch that Godzilla, their new King, kept them all at bay from harming humans or interfering.

And it’s not like Rodan was a bad choice, at least the fire demon was already flying in the opposite direction to the town, thus preventing his strong winds from destroying the remodeling of the town and everyone getting shot in the air. It seemed that over time the Titan learned more and more about how to interact with the citizens of Isla De Mara.

Maybe Rodan being with them wasn’t so bad, the Titan seemed to care little about human affairs and Monarch expeditions near his volcano, as long as he could fly and come back whenever he pleased without having missiles exploding near his body or some curious bug near his nest.

And while fishing had been terrible in the last few months since the Titans revived and the U.S. military dropped the Oxygen Destroyer, excavations at the foot of the volcano had made them discover a new kind of valuable minerals that helped the island’s economy and tourism. Economy for the mineral, tourism for the Titan, as it seems that people found it interesting to tour any city that has been visited by a Titan.

Rodan was somehow paying for what he’d damaged.

They hoped to say the same about the other Titan, well, if they could actually be considered theirs, or Mara theirs.

The three-headed dragon, King Ghidorah, as they were recognized worldwide, had begun to follow the lava bird everywhere, an action that didn’t go unnoticed either for Monarch or for the islanders, never approaching the island, but always flying around, summoning lightning and storms, but only rain hitting Isla de Mara, as if they had no intention of destroying it as they did a year ago...

But it was fine, the citizens told the tourists. If their ancestors could survive next to a magma bird made of volcanic rocks, then so could they, and with two Titans.

◆◆◆◇◇◇◆◆◆◇◇◇◆◆◆

Instincts awoke in him when he saw that golden material on the trains leading to the human nest. It was shiny, just like his partner’s skin. Rodan screeched, flying over the sky, screaming in the air before landing near the train.

Humans stopped their metal worm when the Titan approached, usually Rodan stayed in his nest when they were near, always looking at them with curiosity, but eventually turning his back, analyzing them or rather the wagon that contained those gold pieces.

His beak opened, taking the wagon before the bewildered and confused eyes of the humans, who quickly got off the train and away from the tracks, only to watch Rodan spread his wings and take flight to return to his nest in the volcano.

The golden stones were soon covered by the magma of their volcano, into which Rodan immersed himself, taking the larger ones and starting to cover the edge of the volcano with the golden material, reinforcing them.

The next day was the same, as the first train of gold material appeared on the tracks, Rodan landed nearby and just as the day before, he took the wagon and resumed his flight to begin what was soon routine.

So it was that for four nights and four days Rodan kept stealing from the islanders the precious golden they extracted from his volcano, until the edge was completely molten with lava and gold.

The villagers on Isla de Mara had no choice, but to wait for Monarch to do what they needed to do. As soon as Rodan stopped adorning his volcano, in the distance they could see a colony of huge clouds with yellow lightings, a sign of a huge storm, and Rodan’s song seemed to be drawing it towards him.

Inside the rising storm Rodan heard his partner’s call, singing back, the fire demon spread his wings, flapping them while volcanic rocks fell over the molten mineral and in contact with the golden material these caused bright, colorful flames.

King Ghidorah sang once more inside the storm, and with a simple movement of theirs yellow lightning formed around them, showing their powerful form.

Rodan screeched once more before leaving his volcano completely and taking flight, heading into the storm, and the rain that fell on the island.

◆◆◆◇◇◇◆◆◆◇◇◇◆◆◆

“Rick, the storm’s already here.” Dr. Chen was watching from the monitor the tropical storm King Ghidorah brought.

The doors opened to let in Dr. Stanton, who was holding a flask in his hands and taking a seat next to Dr. Chen.

“Our favorite bird adorned his nest to attract his mate.” Rick left his flask on his desk and took control of the drones. “Everyone owns me twenty dollars.”

The doors opened again this time by letting Dr. Coleman in, who was completely wet and out of breath, Chen handed him a towel with which he could dry.

“It’s done.” That's what the redhead said before he took a seat behind Chen and Stanton.

“Thanks, Sam.” Chen thanked while she had her notebook ready and her computer beside her, while Coleman opened the sound frequency detection program.

“Are you sure these drones will be strong enough in the storm?” Stanton was asking as he started the drone program and the drones were rising in the sky, following Rodan. “Let’s hope they’re fast enough for our romantic flight, too.”

“I’m more worried about this, should we? I mean, we know it’s for science and all, but this is intimate.” Coleman said, he was worried, mostly in case King Ghidorah noticed them. He watched Chen, after all, this would be the fourth ritual she analyzed and looked so serene, he hoped one day to have her confidentiality.

“I can tell you weren’t a boy scout.” Rick said, teasing, “You saw them the first time, of course that was more of a cartwheel than a proper courtship dance. An aggressive cartwheel... Considering Rodan is almost an eagle it makes sense to do that.”

“Gentlemen,” Chen caught their eye, “We have a behavior to study.”

“Why don’t we call Mark? He’s an expert on behaviors in nature.” Coleman asked, the program finally started, now it was only a matter of seconds before the drones would start sending the sounds and records.

“Maddie starts her 8th grade early. Mark wants her to have at least one year of normal education before he brings her to Monarch.” Chen responded, waiting for the drones to finally enter the eye of the storm.

“Besides, do you think we’re gonna ask him to come help us figure out how one of the Titans, who killed his wife, mates?”

Coleman nodded, focusing at the monitor instead.

Rodan’s singing was what was heard both on the frequency wave and near the outpost.

“It seems that it has already begun.” Chen said, tapping with her index finger the screen, the drone had finally entered the eye of the storm and found Rodan, who appeared to be flying confused inside.

“Do you think we should play mood music?” Rick chuckled, “I got Careless Whispers. Although Elton John is always a good option if you’re trying to romance someone.”

Chen looked menacingly at Stanton.

“Aren’t we not supposed to interfere?” Coleman asked awkwardly.

◆◆◆◇◇◇◆◆◆◇◇◇◆◆◆

The storm around him didn’t bother him, the rain on the other hand did. But as soon as he reached the center of the storm, the rain disappeared leaving only the dark clouds around him and the sound of lightning and thunder tearing the sky apart. Any minute, his partner would show up. He was sure of it, something inside him assured him.

An object flew by very close to him, and even though Rodan was the fastest flying Titan, he couldn’t see it any better. He felt the same presence behind him again, but he still couldn’t see it. Even though he was the King of the Skies, his partner was cunning at giving surprise attacks.

It was then that lightning struck the clouds, revealing a huge golden figure with a pair of gigantic wings and three roaring heads, electric rays came out of their snouts and a pair of tails with spikes vibrated vigorously.

The song of the three-headed hydra caused Rodan to approach his partner, and just as Ghidorah demonstrated their speed seconds ago, the fire demon did the same by flying around Ghidorah. Once the King of the Skies had the attention he needed from the Golden Demise, he didn’t hesitate to fly up, moving his wings and his body in a roll while his wings dropping sparks that fell upon his partner.

Three pairs of golden eyes watched from their place between their throne of clouds and lightning, watching the movements the fire demon made in the air, demonstrating speed, strength, perseverance... Everything that proved how valuable it was to keep him by their side.

Roaring once again the three-headed hydra flew to Rodan’s side, flying in circles around him, as if he was their prey.

However, Rodan took advantage of an opening between the golden wings and escaped the alien dragon. He’d King Ghidorah as his alpha and soon-to-be mate, yet he was sure his instincts told him he couldn’t just leave it easy to them. The first time it was an accident, this time it would be on my own.

Ghidorah watched Rodan fly and hide among their clouds, listening to their partner’s call to follow him. The three heads looked at each other and roared, showing more lightning around them and flapping their wings more fiercely, hoping that their lightning would light up those clouds to let them find their partner.

Both Titans’ songs resonated with lightning and thunders, a strange, unusual melody, but that somehow seemed to be in tune, in perfect synchronization.

If someone had been brave enough to stand outside their homes in the storm, perhaps they could see, when the strong lightning struck and lit up the sky, two magnificent and elegant figures, one gold and one red, flying around each other. No, dancing. Making it official that this ritual was on the right track.

Rodan soon lowered his flight speed, allowing himself to be curled up slowly between King Ghidorah’s tails.

Once the golden dragon felt their mate finally between their grasp, they squeezed a little, trying not to hurt him, intertwining their heads. Ichi roared a little, nuzzling his snout against Rodan’s horns, San did the same, but with part of the beak, while Ni nuzzled against his neck.

Rodan had little mobility, but his body was in charge of producing the heat, which when felt by his body the three heads seemed to purr with pleasure. The fire demon was pleased with himself, looking for Ghidorah’s talons he locked them to his own.

All that was left was to do one simple thing and this would have ended successfully to make way for the next step.

Rodan squealed a little, drawing the attention of the three heads, which the middle one seemed to nod and close their wings.

And then, they fell.

During their fall, Rodan had never felt more confident and secure before. It was clear that King Ghidorah was the perfect mate for him. Maybe the first time things came out too different from a simple dominance fight, but the fire demon couldn’t say he was sorry, no matter how much trouble that got him into with Godzilla and Mothra, Rodan wasn’t going to give up this compatibility.

The three-headed golden dragon was satisfied with themselves, there was something about this mating, about all this that made them feel something completely new — A feeling that had been born since the first time they were here, since the first time they heard Rodan’s calls, was absolutely new, and they had all the time in the world for their mate to explain it to them.

They were already near the end of the storm, clearly they could see the ocean beneath them.

In perfect synchrony, King Ghidorah and Rodan spread their wings and separated their talons to begin to fly up, returning to the inside of the storm, without stopping. And in a quick movement they were over the clouds, over the storm, over everyone else.

Both Titans were flying around each other, exchanging songs that only the moon and stars could witness and listen to.

Rodan joined his beak with King Ghidorah’s middle head, soon being nuzzled against Ni’s and San’s heads.

Ichi watched his brothers and mate continue to share songs — It was then that he noticed a tiny glow behind the fire demon.

Flying away from his mate, King Ghidorah opened their mouths to throw lightning in the direction of that intruder.

◆◆◆◇◇◇◆◆◆◇◇◇◆◆◆

LOST CONNECTION.

“And we’re out of the game.” Stanton sighed, turning around in his spinning chair. “I guess we collected enough data, Chen?”

The short-haired doctor nodded thoughtful, moving her head, her fingers moving her pencil rhythmically, “At least enough to confirm that the mating ritual was a success. Comparing them to other rituals, Rodan and King Ghidorah are the closest thing to birds. Specifically eagles...”

“So they’re mates for life...” Stanton concluded, tappin the tip of his pen against his chin. “Congratulations, the bride’s family pays for the wedding.”

“Do you think anything will come of this?” Coleman said from his seat, saving the audio files, Chen would probably look at them later, “I mean, the biology of both are male, is conception possible? We haven’t had much reproductive material since the Mutos.”

“I don’t think the Titans understand our concept of gender.” Stanton said, “Rodan’s biology and Ghidorah’s alien one could be studied a little better now that we have records. Maybe conception it’s possible, maybe not, the point is at the end of the day, mating was because they needed genetic compatibility.”

“Even if there never was — ” Chen interrupted without raising her eyes from her computer, “Their relationship could be completely symbiotic. We’ve seen that they work well together.”

“You mean like Godzilla and Mothra.” Coleman compared.

Since the battle in Boston, with a dying Mothra appearing in Godzilla’s thermal radiation, the study of relations between Titans was one of the priorities in Monarch, especially considering the ancient murals and civilizations. King Ghidorah versus Godzilla had been the first of many, but apparently each Titan also had its opposite. Rodan appeared to be in conflict with a snake-like Titan, Mothra seemed to be facing a species similar to hers, and there was even Behemoth versus Leviathan, but without a doubt the most striking one to date had been Kong versus Godzilla, as if it’d been foretold. It wasn’t just a battle between Alphas.

The world was more complicated than it seemed.

“Barnes never forgave you for not taking him to Infant Island.” Stanton laughed when he remembered the chief.

“You know very well that neither Mothra nor Godzilla would allow me or my sister to bring strangers.” Chen explained.

“Yeah, Shobijin stuff.” Stanton murmured, opening his flask. “Still, I do think something’s gonna come out of all this.”

Coleman nodded with him, looking at the image of Rodan and King Ghidorah flying together over the storm, one of the last images the drone managed to capture before being charred. For some strange reason, both Titans seemed to be made for each other, perhaps it was genetic compatibility as Stanton remarked, or something more mystical and deep.

“Whatever it is, we have to keep a close eye on both of them.” Chen joined his two friends, contemplating the image, “We don’t know what Godzilla could do now that his rival finally had a successful mating ritual. Worst, if they get hatchlings.”

The other two males nodded.

Only time will tell what will come of all this.

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chromecutie · 4 years

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Not A Ghost - part 23

A/N - Multi-part fic. Colossus x OC where OC has come home after being wrongfully imprisoned in the Icebox. Warnings for whole fic - references and flashbacks to harsh prison environment, including various types of abuse. Takes place shortly after events in Deadpool 2. Whole thing will end up on my AO3 eventually.

Taglist: @emma-frxst @ra-ra-rasputiin @holamor @empressme-bitch @marvel-is-perfection @hazilyimagine @marvelhead17 @rovvboat @angstybadboytrash @whitewitchdown @master-sass-blast @mori-fandom @mooleche @dandyqueen @emberbent @leo-writer . Wanna be added or removed? Holla at me.

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Song after song skipped by as Rhonda kept hitting “next” on her phone. Her legs draped over the arm of the chair, feet bouncing and swaying. She picked another playlist to scroll through, but nothing sounded good there either. Piotr leaned against the table beside her, one arm casually braced on the table while the other rested on his leg.

Rhonda had told him how she’d sort of had a fight with Ellie, and then had a worse sort-of-fight with Xavier himself. She was agitated, couldn’t sit still, and even in the chair she fidgeted and sloppily tapped through her playlists.

“I understand you care about Ellie - all of us - and you worry about us,” Piotr nodded, “but Xavier is right. You can’t try to get Ellie pulled out.” He made a little chuffing sound and shook his head, “She’s so much like you. Can you imagine if someone had tried to pull you out when you were her age?”

Rhonda slumped and rubbed her forehead with her fingers. “But if someone I loved came up to me with a bunch of scars and said to think twice, you don’t think I would have listened?” She set her phone down.

Piotr took a breath and sat on the corner of the bed. His long arms could still reach to touch her shoulder gently and brush her green hair away from her neck. “I think you would have believed,” he said slowly, “that person had run into terrible luck, and that it was rare, and the chances of it happening to you were slim to none.”

She leaned back in her chair and brought one foot up onto the table. In the soft lamp light, her eyes were almost black. “Is that what you think?” she asked flatly. “That it couldn’t happen to you?”

“What I think,” he kept his tone neutral, “and what could happen doesn’t change my decision to be a part of X-Men. I promised to serve, despite the risks, so that we can make the world safer for mutants.” He withdrew his hand, but still leaned toward her from his seat on the bed.

“And when will it be enough, Piotr?” she threw her hands up. “When will you have risked enough that it’s okay to quit?”

He leveled a serious, earnest gaze on her. “When what happened to you cannot happen to anyone else.”

Rhonda sighed, her eyes drooped. “That won’t be in our fucking lifetime and you know it.”

“Sladkaya,” he said softly as he stood and rested his hands on her shoulders, “It will take that much longer if people who can help choose not to. And you know it.” Piotr rubbed his thumbs over his wife’s neck, massaging the knots. He kissed her head. “I am sorry. I don’t like seeing you upset, but I see no other way right now. Eventually, I will have to go back out there. Can you live with that?”

Rhonda melted under his touch, tired and drained, “If the DMC get you…”

His thumbs slid in circles, "I know you would stop at nothing to bring me home again." He chuckled, "I pity anyone stupid enough to get in your way. But," Piotr rhythmically patted her shoulders, "That's all for another day. Not tonight."

"Not tonight," Rhonda agreed with a sigh.

Rhonda slept miserably that night. She had vivid, confusing dreams and couldn't seem to stay asleep. She couldn't lay still, and tried huddling closer to Piotr. A few scant hours of sleep finally came to her when she threw the covers off and let herself get cold.

"Sladkayaaa…" The smell of coffee slowly filled her senses, along with his voice, every bit as warm and comforting as a cup of coffee.

Rhonda groaned, “Mm...Piotr?” Forcing her eyes open, she squinted against the glare.

“No, it’s Scott,” he tried to imitate an American accent, then gave it up with a little laugh. “I wanted to let you sleep, but it’s after ten now. How are you feeling, my love?”

Rubbing her eyes, she slowly sat up, “Like I should’ve taken a sedative last night. I forgot.” As he armored down and she took in his bright smile and the way it was framed by his dark, thick beard, she couldn’t resist smiling herself. “What?”

He handed her the cup of coffee in his hands, and she sipped, relishing the hazelnut cream he’d added for her. “A package got delivered,” he explained, “and I meant to wait until anniversary, but I’m too excited.” His bright blue eyes sparked the closest thing he had to mischief.

“Babe, I think you’ve said that for almost every single present you’ve ever gotten me,” Rhonda snickered into her cup.

“That’s not my fault,” he shrugged, “You have the best face when you are surprised, and I want to see it as often as possible!” Piotr held out a white box, tiny in his massive palm.

Rhonda glanced from the box to his face, where the late morning sun coming in from the window caught the little smattering of silver-grey hairs in his beard. She loved seeing him smile like this, eager, happy. Cross-legged, she nestled the coffee cup in her lap and took the little white box. She looked at her husband again, smiled, and bit her lip. The box was light, and when she lifted the lid she gasped.

One wide and hefty band and a narrower, more delicate band shone against the white interior. “New rings?” tears sprang to Rhonda’s eyes, quickly obscuring her vision as she laughed with pure joy.

Piotr chuckled and thumbed away her tears, “See? I love surprising you.” He gently took the box from her and slipped the smaller band onto her finger. It didn’t go on smoothly like any precious metal, instead slightly gripping her skin.

“What is this?” Rhonda sniffled and wiped away more tears so she could look at it. The ring looked like burnished bronze - dark golden brown with a little bit of a green shimmer.

“They’re silicone,” Piotr squeezed the band meant for him and showed how flexible it was. “They’re for people who work with their hands all the time, and they stretch.” He let her slip the ring onto his finger, and he armored up. Rhonda instinctively held up a hand to guard her eyes, but the band stayed in place.

Her mouth fell open. “No way! How many replacement bands did we go through for you because you’d armor up and they’d pop right off?” She made a sound like a small explosion, splaying her fingers wide.

Working his fingers over his new ring and admiring the feel of it, Piotr rolled his eyes, “It was only two, Sladkaya.”

She grumbled sheepishly, “When the metal pieces are flying at your face, it feels like more than two.”

Piotr leaned closer to his wife until their lips were only inches apart. “It won’t happen with these,” he could still feel her grinning as he kissed her. She had just barely slipped her tongue into his mouth when she pulled back suddenly.

“Sorry,” she covered her mouth, “My breath must be rank.”

“Drink more coffee,” he winked.

Rhonda picked up her cup again to resume drinking and stared at her new ring. “[I love you so much, Piotr. Thank you.]”

He touched a knuckle to her chin and returned, “[Anything for you, my love.]” Piotr pulled back and collected the packaging to put in the recycling. “I will still get you a proper ring, with a gemstone,” he added, “These are supposed to be for when we’re working, gardening, things like that.” He patted her thigh so firmly it was almost a slap. “Now. Are you going get ready for the day, or keep snoozing?”

Rhonda was squeezing her hair dry with a towel when she emerged from the bathroom, and saw her husband sitting on the floor with his sketchbook. “What’s that?” she came to look over his shoulder.

He glanced up, then back at his work, and said, “Hello, naked wife.” His pencil scritched away, his fingers moving delicately over the fine-toothed page. “That room where you dance - I thought we could finish repairing it. You spend enough time in there.” Rhonda knelt next to him to see what he was drawing. “How would you feel about offering a class for the children? You used to love tutoring, maybe teaching would be good for you.”

Rhonda hesitated, honestly considering it. “I dunno...I could try. I dunno who’d actually want to learn from me but...are these floor plans?”

“Yes!” he cheerfully showed her the three variations he was sketching. He illustrated full mirrors on either this wall or that wall, opaque shutters over the windows that could be retracted to let in natural light, rigs for this type of lighting or that type of lighting, shelving over here for supplies and sound equipment. “If you go in there today, we could get a feel for what you would like in a proper dance studio.”

“We could!” she slipped her arms around his neck from the side and kissed his cheek.

They shared a laugh as he circled her waist with one arm, nuzzling into her neck and damp hair. “Do you think you would want to perform again?” he asked. “You have always been a thrill to watch.”

“Maybe,” she scoffed, then added with a growing smile, “Yeah, probably. Ask me again in a few months.” Her dark eyes were soft. She looked at her right hand against his massive steel arm. Fortunately, she was past hating how her hand looked with a missing finger; she was used to it. Fresh out of the shower and still naked, her inked Xs were stark against her husband’s body. If Rhonda looked at the marks that filled her arm and spread over her back and side too long, her thoughts filled with desperate wishes that she could peel that skin off and get different skin.

She camouflaged her sigh to sound hopeful rather than depressed. “Hey...do you think...Do you think you could paint my arm again? Like that zhostovo you did a while back?”

Piotr gave a long look over her arm, tracing the length of it with one warm hand. “It did look good on you, didn’t it?” Taking her hand and kissing her knuckles, then her palm, he said, “Of course. Get dressed and I’ll meet you in the kitchen. The lighting is better in there.” He gave her ass a firm, playful pat and she got up with an equally playful yelp.

The brush was every bit as cold and wet as she remembered as Piotr made petal after petal with each stroke, careful but decisive. Rhonda’s arm was ticklish, and had to try harder than last time to keep still. Piotr’s phone rang, but when he saw it was Deadpool, he let it go to voicemail.

“You know he’s gonna keep calling you,” Rhonda warned.

Piotr frowned with disregard. “He can call. I don’t have to answer every time. The last ten times he called, it was to complain about arguments he gets into with Cable.” He glanced up to wink at his wife, “I’ve told him to try cracking fewer nasty jokes.”

“Ha! I bet he took that one to heart.” She rolled her eyes and watched the brush flick and swirl and flick. It was hypnotic, soothing, even if it was also ticklish. The flowers were even softer than last time, their contrast against the solid black background he painted was even more stark. “This is so beautiful, honey. Thank you.”

He smiled without looking up, focused on the fine details he was adding now. “[As if I would ever refuse the chance to make you smile.]”

Sure enough, Wade called again. And again. Piotr declined the calls and set his phone on do-not-disturb mode. Rhonda asked, “Are you sure you don’t need to get that?”

Piotr’s cheeks puffed as he blew a long breath. “It’s fine. When I talk to him again, he will give me some grief about it, but he will have figured it out. Whatever it is.”

“If you’re sure,” Rhonda shrugged. Holding out her arm to admire the finished painting covering it, her face was radiant. “You know I’ve never been that into tattoos, but I could rock this, huh?”

As he packed up his acrylics and set about washing his brushes in the sink, he replied, “I have to say, I have not seen many tattoos based on Russian folk art. But if anyone could pull it off, it’s you, Sladkaya.”

She got that telltale mischievous glint in her eye, and gave a cursory look down the hall from the kitchen. No one was coming. Rhonda got up from the kitchen table and crossed over to where her husband stood at the sink. “You know what else I can pull off…” she leaned close and whispered something to him in Russian that made him snap straight and look around as if anyone else was around to hear and understand it.

“Sladkaya, you know better than to--”

“I’ll race you to the bedroom.”

“Nyet,” he hustled to get his paint kit in order and carried it with one arm, while he quickly rounded the kitchen island to heft Rhonda almost to his shoulder with the other. In a brisk walk back to their room upstairs, Piotr grumbled in Russian all manner of things he would like to do.

In the privacy of their room, they leaned closer, sharing their breath. Rhonda’s deft fingers made quick work of his belt buckle and unzipped his pants--

The window shattered as a chunk of concrete flew through it. A shout came from outside, “Colossus! You shiny fuck! Stop ghosting me!”

Piotr and Rhonda shared a withering look and said in unison, “Wade.” Piotr gently squeezed her arm as he stood, zipping his pants back up, “Whatever it is, I will tell him not today.”

Avoiding the broken glass as best he could, some of the pieces crunched under his boots anyway. “Wade,” he called from the balcony, “I didn’t answer for a reason--”

“The Juggernaut’s been spotted near a truck stop!” Wade yelled. “Maybe he’s looking for a cheap hooker or some heroin, but I bet he’s after something bigger.”

Piotr clenched his jaw for a moment, then said, “Make your point, Wade.” Rhonda crept closer to her husband, avoiding the broken glass.

“My point,” Wade shouted with exasperation, “Is that we intercepted some messages between the Brotherhood that they’ve got some mutagenic juice they wanna pass out. You’d know if you answered any of my calls instead of blowing me off for your Misses! Anyhoo! A whole truckload of flu shots is passing through where my JuggCam shows your buddy hiding out. Wanna bet they’re gonna add the mutagen to the flu shots? It’s just the thing all the anti-vax mommy blogs have been waiting for. They’re gonna be all smug about it, well NOT ON MY WATCH!”

Piotr thought a moment, then answered, “Juggernaut isn’t smart enough for a plan like that.”

“Mystique is,” Cable’s voice rose. “We think she’ll have a team take over the truck while Juggernaut causes a diversion.”

“I can handle Mystique and whatever other dumb saps she has with her, but not if Juggernaut rips me in half again.” Wade made an exaggerated groan, “You haven’t been out with me in months! Don’t make me say it…”

Piotr and Rhonda could just barely hear Cable grumble, “Jesus…”

“Say what, Wade?” Piotr shook his head.

“I need you! Come on, please? Let Nine-Volt play with her other silver bullet and come give Jugg-Jugg payback for putting a dent in your head!”

Rhonda hissed, “He what?”

Piotr ground his teeth. Duty called, but with awful timing. He just couldn’t take chances with the Juggernaut out on the loose. He heard his wife sigh. He looked back at her, dreading having to tell her he was going out for this one, and was astounded to find she was putting on her shoes.

“Rhonda, what are you--”

Her brows were soft, slightly raised, but her mouth was set in a hard line. “You can’t sit this one out, and I can’t stay at home worrying about you. I’m coming with you.”

“Sladkaya, no,” he tried to stride to the door and beat her to it, but she had her hand on the door knob before he was in arm’s reach. “Wade is right. He hit me hard enough to knock out a tooth, and also tore Wade in half. You know how dangerous the Juggernaut is. What do you think he will do to you?”

“I’m staying out of the fighting,” she said firmly. “But I’m going with you.”

Piotr knew that tone and how it brooked no argument all too well. He sighed. “And what if Juggernaut finds you?”

With grim confidence, Rhonda said, “I’ll talk to him.” Her husband was frozen, rooted to the spot, so she added, "You don't have time to argue. Let's go."

#not a ghost #piotr rasputin x oc #colossus x oc #colossus #xmen #deadpool fanfic #piotr Rasputin #angst #fluff #longfic #multipart fic

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riisinaakka-draws · 7 years

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No one asked, but I made a little recap of the “Safe again” gif & drawing, if you are interested. I hope it adds some light to the process without destroying the magic, lol.

Before going futher, I must admit that I cannot remember all the details and there were a lot of trials and errors. I made the first sketch at the end of April, continued it a bit in May and left it alone for weeks until finally finishing it in June. Also, the psd file with all the layers is such a mess that it would not help you, so no screen caps about that.

So, this is not a tutorial but more like a recap or the backstory of the thought process and the finished drawing.

Preparations: - watch the best show in the world (Black Sails) - reach episodes 4.01 & 4.02 and weep at the beauty - let the season finale destroy you (and lift you up)

Ingredients:

- an idea, textures, references, time, drawing software, pen tablet

Steps:

Initial idea. Silver surrounded by the light and warmth of his two important people, him radiating golden light and illuminating the others’ features (the other two are relieved after getting him back safe and sound)

- or all three of them as gods, stories, legends, constellations etc.?

- or just Silver's sad dream years later when he is gazing at the stars, figures on the night sky etc...?

- sketch a doodle in a hurry, think about the stars and how to add them quickly to try the initial idea

-> remember the picture serie of noodle soup you took a while ago. Remember how cool "the whirling galaxy" aka “oily broth before adding noodles” looked like in the kettle (I have used or considered using other food textures before, e.g. blueberry-pie, the remains of burned macaroni casserole, foam, tea). Keep your eyes open and collect your own cool textures :D Or use free textures etc.

- edit in photoshop to bring out dots, shapes, whatever (or just skip this part and paint the splatter on the get-go with brushes...lmao). I just like to find surprises with textures, like the randomness or what sort of new things and ideas they may add or provoke. You can do this with any abstract splatter or shape and so on...

- This was the noodle broth and there’s the used area. (The circles and green clumps didn’t look as good as I first thought, so I used the area without them).

Some other examples, not used in this one:

- let it marinate and haunt you for weeks, do other stuff, learn new things, read fanfiction, rewatch earlier episodes, hone your skills, cry

- start working with the idea, look at references (important!), figure out how six hands work?? what's visible, what's in the shadows etc... what doesn’t need to be shown and still have the composition work...

- continue the doodle, add layers, shapes, slowly build the composition, let it alone for a day, a week, a month...

- Look at it with fresh eyes and remember to mirror image once in a while to see any mistakes. Grunt with frustration, re-do things, look more references

I couldn’t quite decide where to put James’ hand, so I kept testing. Madi’s hand was always supposed to be over John’s heart (yeah I know the heart is more in the center, but you get the gist ;) I also wanted James and Madi to have some sort of connection -> in the final piece their pinkies are touching :)

- add another texture layer (I had colour dodge on), move it around to find the best place and see the sparks flying accidentally (this was actually done quite early on but anyway)

-> go WOAH! (ʘ‿ʘ)

- continue drawing, occasionally play with the texture layers, try giffing, listen to Finnish (symphonic / power) metal music, have an epiphany, cry about feelings

- Stop at some point. Let it brew more, do not look at it. Next time you look at it, is it ok? No? Yes? Ok, good. Spent a while concising all the thoughts to a few obligatory sentences to have an explanation, fill the tags with ramblings, post it, go for a run walk, preferably to see the sea. Look at the sunset, listen to seagulls and sigh. Return to read other people crying about their feelings that the drawing evoke. Grin and eat more cheap noodles.

Some random notes:

Flint’s blinking moon was a last minute addition (the tattoo was there, but I thought it would be cool to emphasize it more and it fit the overall theme)

To mirror that, Madi’s shining earring represents the sun (or a bright star)

All three of them have their rings, although it may not be clear

that splotch that flies past them has no special meaning, I just liked it. Not sure if it’s a piece of leek or something in the soup. At some point I considered making it look like a crown or a shooting star or a lantern or something.

Working music ended up being Nightwish’s “Nemo”:

Oh how I wish For soothing rain All I wish is to dream again My loving heart Lost in the dark For hope I'd give my everything

My flower, withered between The pages 2 and 3 The once and forever bloom gone with my sins (ಥ‿ಥ) Walk the dark path ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Sleep with angels (˵ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°˵) Call the past for help (*whispers* get Thomas to end Flint’s war...) Touch me with your love And reveal to me my true name

(and so on..)

“Nemo” is Latin for “nobody, no one”. Silver is “a nobody from nowhere”.

favouritealias also pointed out the BS quote:“There is freedom in the darkness, once someone has illuminated it." and I can’t believe I didn’t realize that 8D

Lastly. Silver can’t quite believe the luck he has (to have these two in his arms again and in overall), Flint’s finally able to sleep peacefully now that he is back and Madi and John cannot stop smiling at each other. Madi inspects John’s little scratches and wounds and he’s happy to have had a bath before they laid down for the night. Flint keeps sniffing his hair. He also made secret unspoken promises with Madi to keep Silver (and each other) safe in the future (pinky promise).

tl;dr: read later then, lol ;) (if interested in the first place)

I’m not very good at putting my thoughts into words, but there you have it. Thank you for reading! ( ˘ ³˘)♥

#i did this draft/post weeks ago but then forgot it #starting with a really shitty doodle takes the edge off #and it helps to just put it on paper and return to it later without forgetting the idea #that's why most of my first bs doodles are well... doodles (or as I sometimes like to think: stage 1)#dundunduu #nowadays I leave the first draft for a while and return to them later #I have also learned shitton of things and gained more confidence #most of it is thanks to black sails and its fandom #so thank you #you have no idea how much i appreciate you all

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somar78 · 5 years

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How I Designed A Supercar Beater For Coffee Money – The Story Of The Burton Trackster

This article was written by the remarkable Daniel Burton, an inspiring young man living with Asperger’s who has spent years carefully designing his own road-legal race car. The design is now ready for testing and final tweaks before being built.

If you would like to contact Daniel regarding the Burton Trackster and you think you can help, please use the contact form on Silodrome here and we’ll connect you to him.

A Little Bit About Me

Bit of a cliché headline, but it’s true and it was born out of necessity! I happen to have High Functioning Asperger’s and due to the difficulties associated with that I cannot stay employed by a regular company. Luckily, Australia happens to have a welfare program for folks like me.

I am considered disabled by the government, so I get paid a modest sum to look after myself, my wife and my daughter. In between looking for a suitable employer and doing small jobs for my company, Burton’s Tube Worx, I put my versatility and ability to learn very quickly to good use inventing and designing things. I don’t see myself as disabled, I’m just not able to meet the status quo!

I enjoy prototyping and have developed skills and collected equipment to help me with the task. A VR helmet, a DSLR camera for photogrammetry, a Lulzbot Taz6 3D printer, a fast laptop for CAD/FEA/CFD and an old laptop for literature. With this equipment I have managed to develop a whole heap of products. Most need a prototype made, patents sought, testing performed and to be put to manufacture.

Just a matter of saving enough money or finding an investor or consortium to make them happen. It can be disheartening at times having done so much work and not being able to show people, so when I went to my first hill climb with my dad at Collingrove in the Barossa Valley, I found a new product to work on.

The hill climb was great, dad and I couldn’t stop talking about building a car of some kind. I remember there was quite some conjecture as to what kind. Dad liked the Ariel Atom and Exocet style cars. They typically run a car engine and transmission, and this seemed like a massive waste of weight for a hill climb vehicle. Not only that but the suspension kinematics were compromised by the chassis shape, a two-seater.

I personally liked the Formula Libre cars. Not just because they were the fastest, but the aero and engineering looked much more complex and interesting! Bell cranks, bike engines and chain drives. These cars made sense to me. They were made fit for the purpose of hill climb! My dad on the other hand had passengers in mind. He wanted to be able to scare mum and get sideways. I wanted to go as fast as I could up the hill, I had to make a choice on what path to take.

The Initial Concept

I ended up choosing the Formula Libre cars at first. The crazy aero and the chance to dominate with clever engineering was far too attractive and on top of all that, because my Asperger’s sometimes rules the day, the Libre cars were stuck in my head. So that’s where I began. At that stage I had a few of the needed skills for designing a car. I was a metal fabricator with a basic machining background and with something in the region of 20 years’ experience on different CAD systems, I felt like I had a good starting point for the chassis.

I ended up drawing about 8 different Formula Libre chassis’ before I realised, this was outside the scope of my skills. I was putting lifted noses, ground effect tunnels and all sorts on. Nothing looked how it should! CAD is not like pencil and paper which is guided by art and flow. CAD is driven by math and constraints so I had to tell the program how high that lift should be or how wide and long that tunnel should look. I wasn’t informed enough to make those decisions yet. It is for those reasons I shifted the design over to a two-seater that was less dependent on aero and more about learning instead.

The Learning Process

Something like 80% of the information was still outside my knowledge base and I had no clue where to start. I ended up doing the millennial thing and Googled it! I found a lot of information, too much information actually and most of it was aimed at the layman! This wasn’t going to get me anywhere! I needed hard data from a good source! Race engineering books where the next natural progression, but on my budget, very costly. I would struggle to gather one book every 2 months. That was when I found an online book depository for quite a cheap fee. Full of research papers and books to fill my appetite. It really took off from there.

I began reading while at the same time doing detailed examinations of images related to that area of the car. A picture for my brain, is like a book! I can glean far more information from a picture than I can from a piece of literature. For the average person the writing is the main information and the image is the supplement. For my brain it works backwards. The image is far more useful, and I find them easy to recall. A very handy skill for my chosen line of interests.

I ended up with a bunch of ideas in my head from this cavalcade of information and from all those years of driving and tuning virtual cars. It was gratifying to be able to tell myself that all those years of playing video games and reading magazines in school was paying off. It had informed me quite thoroughly and not much in these technical books came as a surprise to me (except all that algebra).

I was able to verify my understanding of the science behind these racing cars rather than just my assumptions gleaned from unreliable sources. It was at this stage that I began writing down a spec sheet to form the basis of my drawings. It is surprising what can be gleaned from this short list of specifications.

Designing The Supercar Beater – The Burton Trackster

After making this database of cars in the same class as mine, I looked to the rule of thirds (the track width is equal to 2/3 the wheelbase length). It is derived from the golden mean, which is a composition and ratio guideline based on the Fibonacci sequence. The Fibonacci sequence is found all through nature, from a snail’s shell all the way up to a hurricane. This is where art and maths combine, just like in the best car designs.

From my examination of my new database I landed at a wheelbase of 2560mm and a 1705mm track at first. This quickly changed to accommodate the cars modular design and I ended up finishing at a wheelbase length of 2560mm and a track width of around 1850mm. A bit more over-square than I was after but this has the advantage of less load transfer to the outside wheels allowing quicker cornering. It also allows room for a “utilities” tunnel through the centre of the car and room for two large people.

These people can have a maximum 550mm width at the shoulders and a maximum height of 6’6” or 2011mm. The average human is 460mm across the shoulders and only 5’10” or 155mm. Plenty of room for the larger person which is a common gripe. Boutique sports cars are renowned for this problem. Only designing for the 95th percentile. I prefer to have my cake and eat it too. Clever packaging is how this was eventually achieved.

Safety and comfort seem to be an after thought in a good deal of boutique vehicles. It’s an inherent part of some designs and makes them look great but leaves the occupants quite vulnerable in the event of an impact or roll over event. Even though motorsport is inherently dangerous, I felt that safety should not be sacrificed for performance. Far too many deaths have occurred, and lessons learned to ignored them! It would be an insult to the memories of some amazing men and women! This though process has guided the chassis design quite significantly. High chassis sides were a must, along with an internal divider that separates the driver and passenger compartments.

The angle of the occupant’s legs, neck and spine was also looked at. The shape and cushioning used in the seating has a marked effect on the occupant’s injury rate as show by the research paper conducted by Toyota’s WEC racing program. I chose the safest of the options which will likely be adopted in the 2021 WEC regulations. The internal carbon tub that fits inside the chassis is unfinished in the images presented. It will eventually feature a fixed moulded seat that can be tailored to suit each driver with a polyurethane foam seat insert.

This type of seating style is markedly stronger than a separate seat bolted to the chassis and keeps the driver in the optimum zone of safety under the roll over protection system. To adjust for different driver heights the pedals move to your feet on a rail system. This has the added benefit of keeping the weight balance at its optimum point no matter the driver’s weight and height.

The engine and transmission were the next fork in the road. Front? Rear? Middle-front? Middle-rear? North-South? East-West? The typical road to travel in this niche is either the mid-rear mounted East-West route or the mid-front mounted North-South route. Confused? These are all reasonably efficient ways to go for a boutique car, but after much research they all presented draw backs that were not present with a mid-rear mounted North-South configuration. Compromised suspension kinematics, compromised engine placement, driver comfort and weight balance issues were all things that presented themselves. These were all unacceptable to me and drove my choice to the rear mounted North-South configuration!

Choosing The Engine

Realistically this car can use any engine from the family of inline engines. Due to the high availability of GM LS series engines around the world it was the first engine I looked at. They are quite heavy but being a pushrod engine and having a steep V-angle they are compact. That works very well for diffuser tunnel placement and exhaust routing.

I also looked at the Honda K24 crate engine which is a good compromise between weight, power, packaging and availability. The massive unseen downside to the rear mounted North-South configuration is that a transaxle that is also a structural member is upwards of $20,000 AUD. A big kick in the budget. My prototype needed a cheaper way to get drive and power but still retain the ability to use a transaxle for road legal engines when the time comes.

I considered motorcycle engines back when it was to be a Formula Libre car. The inspiration for my idea came from a combination of Formula Libre and Formula 1000. They use a faux transaxle to contain the chain driven differential, the adjustment mechanism for chain tension and all the associated suspension mounts. I designed something very similar to this and mounted it to a torque plate/bulkhead on the rear of the chassis.

To get the packaging I was after I used a double reduction chain drive. The chain tension adjustment comes in the form of a pair of eccentric bearing mounts that rotate the secondary shaft to properly tension both chains at once. This gives room to optimize the suspension kinematics and allows a quick change of the gearing and chain tension from outside the case. By replacing the sprocket sizes up or down you get a different top speed.

The front suspension system was designed last and mounts on a bulkhead. The main reason for using a bulkhead is suspension kinematics. Normally you would design to mount near or on a tube node and attempt to drive your arms from these nodes or points to the wheel upright. These points can only be placed in certain areas before it starts looking weird from a design perspective and terrible from a kinematics perspective. To overcome this problem, I used a bulkhead and suspension mounting frame that bolts to it. This gives me complete freedom to optimise the front suspension to match the rear.

Once I finish the modelling of the vehicle, I need FEA, CFD, and suspension simulations performed on my model. There is a saying I like and feel applies here. Garbage in, Garbage out! I could do these tests myself, but I am not experienced enough to deliver a guaranteed result without correlating to some type of physical testing. A company that has experience in these respective motorsport professions will be needed. The great thing is that I have developed my model so it can change to be optimised easily.

Hopefully costing less in the long run for testing. Suspension kinematics analysis, torsional rigidity and beaming test, FIA ROPS certification and Aero optimisation are all in my sights. When the optimisation is complete, I will need to purchase some quality sim racing gear and upload the model to R Factor 2 to test drive it. This will help to tell me if all the parameters are correct and show that it performs as I expect it too. This will not only be an interesting test of the car but a verification of my design skills. Any flaws in my ideology or that of the testing companies’ skills should show up here.

Now a few things that don’t really fit into a paragraph anywhere. How much does the weight balance change when going from the bike engine to the LS engine? It goes rearward from 55% to 60% which is inside the typical range of this type of vehicle. It is also easily returned to 55% with a bit of ballast in the nose of the vehicle. How much does the car change across engine types? The suspension kinematics stay the same from the faux transaxle to the real transaxle.

The radiator configuration is situated in the nose for the bike engine and K24 engine. Side pods are added for the LS engine. Container sizes change for the engine’s ancillaries. A new torque plate and engine cradle. Rebuilt dampers with new springs. Larger discs and callipers. Etc. This entire platform allows a system for cost and skills progression. Increase power, aero or grip at a rate that is comfortable for the driver’s skill set and bank account.

The Future Of The Project

I wish I could give some kind of delivery date. But a lack of money could see this project never leave the ground! I have pushed it as a far as I can with next to nothing. At this stage I really need to find a backer that sees the potential of the car and wants to go into business. The big problem there is that people always want to change your designs intent. It would need to be someone who understands that kind of laser focused thinking. Which I feel is a rare thing. Or I need to win the lottery!

If you would like to contact Daniel regarding the Burton Trackster and you think you can help, please use the contact form on Silodrome here and we’ll connect you to him.

The post How I Designed A Supercar Beater For Coffee Money – The Story Of The Burton Trackster appeared first on Silodrome.

source https://silodrome.com/burton-trackster/

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