#a piece of true fiction

[the-hidden-writer]

A Piece of True Fiction: Chapter 10

An Alan Wake 2 fic. Spoilers for Alan Wake 2!

Summary: Aleksi Kesä manages to slip out of the spiral and film he was trapped in.

Saga Anderson, caught in the middle of Wake's horror story, finds a man that looks identical to her partner in the middle of the woods. He's lost, confused, and only seems to speak Finnish. Saga has to try and uncover the truth as well as trying to save her family. Where did he come from? How did he get here?

And where's her Casey?

Chapter Summary: Saga gains information from an unexpected source. Words: 2,449 AO3 Link: [Here!] [First part] [Previous part] [Next part]

A Piece of True Fiction

Chapter 10: Balance

Saga throws herself out of her Mind Place and sits up, turning her head and looking around frantically. Her sudden movement startles Jaakko, who visibly jumps, his arm hitting the edge of the well and knocking Kesä’s shoe back into the shaft.

“Did you say something?” Saga asks.

Jaakko looks at her, confused. “No?”

“Are you sure? I heard someone say something.”

Jaakko shrugs. “I didn’t hear anything. Might have been a dream, you looked like you were sleeping.”

Maybe she’d imagined it. Hesitantly, Saga leans back onto the well again and closes her eyes to re-enter the Mind Place.

“Oh hey, it’s back.”

Saga’s heart starts to race. That wasn’t her imagination. That’s a voice speaking. Muffled, but definitely present. The sound doesn’t quite reach her ears, similar to when she’s trying to find the voices and perspective of others when profiling them. Except right now she isn’t trying to profile anyone.

Another knock. This time, Saga is certain it’s coming from the door within her Mind Place.

“Hello? Who’s there?”

That’s someone talking inside her mind. An unfamiliar voice talking inside her mind. Extremely wary, Saga approaches the closed door that’s only ever been there for decoration to complete her version of a familiar space. She tries to open it. It’s locked.

So she crouches by its side and knocks back.

“Who are you? How are you talking to me?” She asserts mentally.

“You’re the one that showed up out of nowhere, madam Locked-Door. Also, I asked first.”

Saga has never experienced anything like this before in her Mind Place. She’s certain she’s never heard this voice before, lending more reasoning that it isn’t just a figment of her imagination. It carries a heavy nonchalance that unnerves her. Her currently highly-stressed subconscious wouldn’t be able to create such a relaxed tone.

She cautiously decides to play along.

“I’m an FBI agent. Who are you?”

She has to play it safe. She can’t risk giving out personal information and finding herself written into another story, let alone her loved ones getting dragged deeper in.

There’s no response from the other side. The pause is long enough for Saga to doubt the entire encounter, when the owner of the voice finally speaks up again, more assertive themself.

“Oh shit, FBI? I am so glad to hear that… you must be looking for your colleague.”

Saga’s body tenses. There are two possible options here. She tries the safe bet first.

“Robert Nightingale?”

“Huh?”

She doesn’t want to suggest it. She doesn’t want to suggest it in case she’s right.

“Alex Casey?”

“Yeah, him!”

Shit. She was right.

“I’m not looking for him. He’s with the FBC, he’s safe. Who are you?”

“Wait- are you saying he’s there? Oh fuck…”

The nonchalance is briefly replaced with panic. Saga is left beyond confused.

“Hey, listen to me. That guy that’s up there with you? That’s not your guy. Your guy’s here with me.”

What?

“What are you talking about? Casey’s with the Federal Bureau of Control. Where are you? Who are you?”

Another pause, long enough for Saga to start to doubt. Long enough for her to try to find a way to deny that Casey is missing, because acknowledging it would make the possible danger he could be in terrifyingly real.

“I’m Alan Wake.”

Saga doesn't miss a beat.

“You don't sound like Alan Wake.”

The stranger, apparently Wake, doesn't miss one either. A choked noise that sounds mostly like a scoff comes from the other side of the door.

“What, you’ve met me? That must be another version. The Dark Place allows for that sort of thing. Besides, does the guy-you-think-is-your-guy sound like your agent friend?”

A valid point. “No…”

“Let me guess, he goes by ‘Aleksi Kesä’.”

Saga’s breath catches in her throat. He just outright acknowledged Kesä’s existence- the first person to do so. The first person who seems to have any idea about what’s going on. Despite the different voice and subtle lilt of an accent, could this really be Alan Wake? Another version still trapped, like she's been seeing in the Overlaps?

The version that did write-in Kesä and write-out Jaakko?

She can't jump to conclusions. As far as she can tell, this is all in her head. She has to learn more while treading cautiously.

“How do you know? Are you in the Dark Place right now?”

“Yup.”

A thought occurs to her. “Are you in the well?”

“...Yes and no.”

“What do you know about Kesä?”

“Oh man, where to start? Aleksi Kesä is the devil in disguise. A doppelgänger made of pure darkness, taking the form of an innocent man- well, FBI agent. He should be confined to the Dark Place, he belongs there, but it sounds like he managed to escape and dragged the real deal down in his place. Problem is that he wants reality to accept him, and he has the power to alter things to get his way, whatever the cost. He’s extremely dangerous.”

Saga tries to process what she's being told. Kesä, the man she’d risked her life to rescue and who’d cared for her in return, with evil intentions?

Not to mention the very idea of Casey having an evil doppelgänger is absurd. Wake and Scratch is one thing. Is this Wake implying that Kesä is to Casey what Scratch is to Wake?

Or is he implying that Kesä is Scratch?

Sure, she’d been wary of Kesä, but the idea of him being ‘made of pure darkness’ is taking it to the extremes…

“So you're saying that the real Alex Casey is in the Dark Place right now?”

“That's right.”

It makes partial sense. Though some parts don't add up, such as Kesä's seemingly non-evil personality and the unknown role of the Koskelas in the story, it's the only explanation she's been given and therefore she can't help but cling to it. 

Even so, she takes everything said with a grain of salt.

“Why should I believe you?”

“Does the name ‘Anderson’ mean anything to you?”

Saga freezes. Tries to convince herself she didn’t say anything, that he can’t read her innermost thoughts, that her private life is safe-

“Clearly means something to this guy. One of the only consistent words between his berserk babbling.”

Her heart sinks.

“Let me talk to him.” she demands.

“Would if I could. He's breaking down big time. I gotta say, I’m getting worried. The more he loses his mind, it means Aleksi Kesä’s grip on reality is getting stronger.”

Saga listens in trepidation and does her best to not imagine Casey falling apart, trapped in the hellscape the other Wake had described. Alan Wake had been trapped there for thirteen whole years. She can’t bear the thought of her friend going through the same nightmare that a week ago she’d claim couldn’t exist. And now Casey’s there too, all because of… Kesä? A doppelgänger? Scratch?

“You have to stop him before it's too late!”

“How do I get Casey out of there?”

“There might be a way. Then again, it might already be too late…”

“If there’s even a chance of it working, tell me.”

“Fine. Use Aleksi. He’s the key. There’s a ritual- the cult will know. They-”

“The ritual with the heart?”

“Yeah, how did..? Uh, if you perform the ritual and throw the heart into the well, you should get your guy back. Balance is important in the Dark Place, the two sides are like a set of scales. Force one in, it’ll force one out.”

What Wake is implying sounds uncomfortably like murder, though the words make the most sense so far. He knew that Aleksi came from the well. The well had been linked to the Overlap. Maybe some remnant from that is what’s letting her talk to Wake in the Dark Place now?

He claimed that Casey’s calling for her, for Anderson. The stranger Wake couldn’t have pulled her name out of thin air. Wake (the one out of the lake) also said that Kesä and Casey might be different. Maybe he knew more than he had let on.

“If you’re going to attempt this, you have to hurry. The longer Kesä stays on the surface, the more he spreads roots of himself there. It’ll reach a point where it’ll be too strong even for the ritual.”

Saga doesn’t know what to make of it. After spending so long in the dark, trying to piece all these mismatched clues together, she suddenly feels like she’s being bombarded with information and instructions that she doesn’t know whether to trust. She doesn’t trust Wake, but once again he’s the only person who seems to have any idea about what’s happening, and the only person who has any idea of how to make things right.

Only now there’s a ticking clock for Casey’s life as well as Logan’s.

“What’s in it for you? If you’re stuck, don’t you want to escape too?”

“You said I’m up there right now, right? That means some part of me makes it out of here. I can live with that. I don’t know about this guy, though. He’s uh… not doing so good.”

The mental image of Casey suffering returns. Saga makes her decision.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

She’d already handled one heart ritual, what’s another for a greater cause? If Kesä isn’t Casey, if he’s just another figment of the Dark Place, it wouldn’t be murder. It’s just a necessary step in getting Casey and Kesä back where they belong.

Right?

“Good, good. Just remember: the heart goes into the well and you have to say the right words- the cult knows. You’d better hurry, we’re already running out of time to save him. But you can do it.”

Saga nods. Even though Wake on the other side can’t see it, she nods. Another ritual. A gory ritual, but she has to save Casey. The first Wake didn’t know about Kesä, this one does. She follows logic in deciding who to trust.

“And you promise it’ll bring Casey back?”

“If it works, I promise they’ll both be back where they belong. Now look, as much as I’d love to stand by this door all day, I’ve got an agent to look after.”

“Take care of him.” Saga says without thinking. “Tell him I’m coming for him. I’ll save him.”

“You got it.”

“And Wake?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah?”

“If you’re still writing there, leave innocent people out of it. Their lives are not yours to use.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Saga tensely waits for a few minutes for any further comment from behind the door. When there aren’t any, she slowly slumps down against it, assuming the same position as she physically takes next to the well.

What was that? Alan managing to telepathically communicate with her from the Dark Place?

She has no idea how it could have happened. Stranger still, it sounded like he didn’t know, either.

She suddenly feels light-headed. A haze overcomes her Mind Place. Colors fade, pieces of furniture blend together, the mounted deer head looms. 

She thinks of Wake. A different version, a different voice. Trying to escape the Dark Place, but also somehow in the Huotari Well? She’d never put Wake down as a bad person. A selfish, unsympathetic person, yes, but not cruel. Just desperate. This version hadn’t sounded desperate, had even had a hint of levity to his muffled voice. He’d also sacrificed his own chance at escape to help Casey. 

She wants to profile him but she can’t quite grasp his mindset, as if the door between them created a barrier that blocked her from his thoughts, too. It’s frustrating.

She thinks of Kesä. A different version, a different voice. Escaped the Dark Place by confining Casey in his place. While she couldn’t understand what he was saying, she knew for a fact that he felt lost and afraid. Maybe the real world is too overwhelming for a being that had been created within the Dark Place? 

Saga stops that train of thought. She has to deal with facts only. It’s a delicate case and she can’t muddy the truth with her own speculation when lives are at stake.

She thinks of Casey. Her partner, her friend, trapped. Why did he have to go and joke about this being his last case? She already knows that she’s willing to risk a hell of a lot to save him. The ritual on Kesä is definitely a big risk. Would turning him into a Taken really force him back to the Dark Place? 

Briefly, she wonders if Casey would approve of this plan, and comes to the conclusion that he wouldn’t. Except Saga knows that both she and Casey are very aware that Saga is the one with more to lose. What Casey refuses to understand is that he’s a big part of that.

She’ll have to attempt the ritual. She doesn’t know how yet, but it’s the only option she has. Wake said the cult would have more information, right? Jaakko Koskela, a perfect well of information (pun, for once, unintended) is right there. 

She drags herself out of the Mind Place and back into reality. A deep sigh escapes her lips, her breath condensing in the cold of the night. This hadn’t been what she was expecting by coming here, but she’s glad she did. She feels a lot more knowledgable about the situation than she'd been before.

Slowly, she turns her head to talk to the cultist, calling out. “Jaakko?”

Only she’s faced with a pair of legs hanging over the far side of the well.

Saga jumps to her feet. “Jaakko!”

She rushes around the base and quickly grabs onto a leg with each arm. Luckily, he hasn’t fallen fully, balancing over the edge of the well by his midsection. When she starts to pull, she realizes in terror that there is a force much stronger than her, much stronger than gravity, pulling him down. The bucket he’d attached himself to is nowhere to be seen in the nothingness below.

She hears a quiet, despairing chant echoing in the shaft.

“Mercy. Mercy dear brother, don’t kill me. I’m dying. Mercy, dear brother. Mercy-”

Saga pulls. She grits her teeth and pulls and pulls and groans with exertion and pulls and pulls and tries to anchor her feet into the ground to pull even harder. She pulls despite the strain on her weakened arm. She pulls until she can’t pull any longer, her body forcing her to let go before she greatly damages herself.

“No!”

The legs join the torso and all Saga can do is watch as he descends into darkness.

Thanks for reading!

This fic is going on hiatus for a few weeks while I have exams. Hope you're enjoying it so far ^-^

[herzgeist-writes]

One Piece Dating Simulator - Law x gn!reader

"Oh dear, Shachi and Penguin shoved you into a closet with none other than Trafalgar - the most detached and unresponsive man in existance, to your experience. The both of you didn't expect your evening to turn out this way, but was it that much of a surprise? After a proud amount of alcohol and unhinged drinking games, the crew mates decided to 'get a room' for you. A pun the Surgeon of Death cringes upon hearing. So here you are - stuck in a cramped closet with your heart beating fast and a clump in your throat. Law's about to speak, however you manage to initiate in breaking the ice first."

A/N: Why hello, you poor soul got stuffed in a closet with the danger mushroom eh? Alright, here's what I want you to do:

Send me what your next move will be via ask box! The orange line above is your queue, dear reader! :

What is it you'll say? How do you interact with him? Tell me and you shall receive a Law-rence reaction

Plus, there's a tiny info I need from you:

What's your affiliation with this uncertified doctor? Send me the according emoji you wish to receive listed below - to make the interactive mini story/scenario a bit more immersive.

Crew mate x Captain? Unknown feelings emerge = 🌱

Pre-relationship? Known feelings blooming = 🌺

Couple? There's feelings alright = ❤️‍🔥

What are you waiting for? Send me that >>ask<< love is in the air and Law isn't fond of it, so better get a move on! Event ends on February 18th.

The only rule: Keep it decent, just have some dignity alright? I'm all in for suggestive and heated spicyness, but this shouldn't turn into full out smut ok? Thank you!

Law and 'love is in the air':

[skrunksthatwunk]

why the fuck did i write about birds this fucking sucks. i just found out birds only sleep for a few minutes at a time, hundreds of times a day. do you know what this is going to do to my structure? the logistics of their road trip? this is already like three days late and i've been fighting for my life to get A Plot Like Any Plot That Makes Sense out and now the birds fucking sleep for 5 minutes at a time.

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

I knelt before my God. “God, why did you call me here?” I was but an acolyte, hardly worthy of His attentions.

God tilted his head to the side. “I wished to tell someone a story, and you happened to be nearby,” He explained.

I nodded, unable to conceal my excitement. To be called upon by God, at such a young age? It was unheard of! “I would be honoured to hear any wisdom from your lips,” I said.

His expression unchanging, God began. “Once upon a time, there was a boy. He had wealth and power, but he wanted the world.”

A story about overstepping your bounds, I thought. About the follies of ambition. Did God think me too eager? I had best be more humble. I lowered my eyes and bowed deeper.

“He plotted and schemed, seeking to rule. But a team of pure-hearted heroes saw through his deceits and rose to stop him. They waged an epic battle, good against evil, chaos against order,” God continued, not showing any sign of noticing my change in demeanour.

“Good almost won. Those heroes were indomitable, unstoppable. The boy feared for his life, for everything he earned. So he unveiled a great weapon, a bomb that would take out the world, for if he could not have it, no one should either.”

Ah, I thought. Selfishness. Pride. Two great sins. Perhaps He had seen me gloating over my skills? Yes, that must be it.

“He blew up the world, and as he did so, he discovered a secret. The path to immortality. The boy Ascended, and when the dust settled, he sat on a throne of radioactive stone and bodies, ruling over a broken people.”

God shook his head and closed his eyes. He had too few eyes, I thought idly, then cursed myself for the heresy. God was Perfection itself, the final form. It was not my place to critique Him. “That boy became a young king. His power grew endlessly, safe in the knowledge that his enemies had been vanquished.”

Carelessness, now. Would the king fall, betrayed by a trusted ally? Would his kingdom flounder from lack of tending? I listened intently. When God spoke, those who listened were blessed.

“Other kind souls, who saw the horror in his actions, took up arms. Time and time again, he destroyed them. Centuries passed, and the people stopped looking at him as a king, and started seeing him as a god. They forgot the story of how he rose to power, and invented a legend. They worshipped him.”

Idolatry! The worst of all sins. He would be cast down by our God, the true God. I grinned to myself, pleased by my deductive skills.

“He was showered in gifts and partook in every pleasure possible, every vice and depravity. He glutted himself on the rarest delicacies, slept with the most gorgeous men and women, killed those who so much as irritated him. His dominion was absolute. None would challenge him.” There was an air of resolute pride in God's voice, but it swiftly softened to his usual solemnity.

“The centuries turned to millennia. The young man still enjoyed his bed-warmers, and his fine wines, but he did not take the same thrill in them that he once did. The world had grown boring, he decided. So he entertained himself with the thought of gaining more power, the idea of taking other lands, other peoples, other worlds for himself. For a brief while, he felt whole again, alive.”

This must be about contentment, I concluded, not without a hint of panic. The story had taken so many twists- How was I to know what he meant to tell me?

“But time struck again, and the millennia turned to eras. He had conquered every galaxy there was, seen his very first struggle mirrored across the universe, and found his life no more fulfilled for it. His power was incomprehensible. Entire species would kill on his whim. He was no mere god, but God himself.”

“The concept of indulging his lust no longer appealed. Though his body was still young, he had seen too much to produce any interest in any merely mortal pleasure.” God sighed.

I was confused. What was this story about? I had missed something, failed his test. A bud of panic welled up in me.

“So the god turned inward. He pursued the works of philosophists, who were awed by their god's sudden interest in his work. He pondered on the meaning of good and evil, and wondered about the heroes he once fought. He realised he had been a tyrant and a monster, and made laws to make the world a better place.”

I gasped. Of course. This was about kindness! Forgiveness, and learning from your mistakes were both valuable teachings, so often forgotten in today's society. By putting us in the shoes of a heathen, only then could we truly understand the meaning of empathy.

“But even that faded with time, and as a final resort, he returned to his homeland, where he once resided. He hunted down the deathplace of his old enemies, the location of his former castle. And he wept for the very last time there, as the final shreds of his humanity died.”

“You see, he had been gone so long, so very very long, that the world itself was unrecognisable. Plates had collided and produced a mountain where his plains-home once was, the sun had turned a deep red with age, and even his people had evolved and distorted to become a new species. There was no trace of the world he once lived in, the boy he once was, the life he once lived. He, as he knew it, was gone.”

“And now, the eras turn to aeons,” God concluded. “And I wonder: What will be left? When the sun that was once his explodes, will he embrace it and end the saga? Or will he live on for all eternity, changing and changing and never dying?”

I blinked. “Great God,” I murmured, making the holy sign, “Forgive me, but I do not understand. What is the moral of this story?”

God did not frown, nor show any sign of anger. His voice was even as he said, “There is no moral, boy. Some stories are just that. Meaningless tales. Idle words. I never expected you to understand. Simply be grateful that you will never live as long as I will. Now go, and live your life. Love and make children and die, like I never got a chance to.”

Finally, it clicked. This was a test, to see my tenacity. He gave me a false fable, meant to bewilder me, and sought to see if I would still attempt to make sense of it. And because I admitted my lack of comprehension, I proved I was humble, and because I tried to understand anyway, I proved I was intelligent. Smiling, I got up and left.

God watched me go with eyes that had seen eternity.

The direct result of this

[chaoticvictorianspirit]

Actually, I like codependency in fiction. Let people love each other exactly in the way they long for and need. Just because they are capable of functioning seperately doesn't mean they have to when all they want to do is spend their days together and share the tiny blip of existence they have left with one another. And I'm sorry but I'm tired of screenwriters pretending that learning to be miserable on your own is somehow a superior story arch as well as a moral virtue somehow. Maybe you want realism in your fiction but I for one want my comfort characters to morph into a singular entity. I want to treat them the way I did gummy bears as a child and just leave them out in the sun until they melt together into one solid block of sweetness. Reality is already depressing enough. Friendships end. Love fades. Life gets in the way and seperates people who aren't ready for their journey together to be over yet. Loved ones leave us all the time and sometimes there's no good explanation and it's unfair and painful and too often there's nothing you can do about it. And sometimes the one person you wish you could talk about it with the most is the one that's leaving and it fucking sucks. [And I get that this is precisely why we need these themes in fiction to confront these feeling and cope with them in a setting removed from reality but that's not what this post is about damn it.] I just wish this weren't the only angle we got. I wish we also got the "easy" happy endings, the unrealistic friendships, the kind of closeness that isn't portrayed as weighing you down but rather lifting you up. I wish fairytales weren't only for children and I wish adults didn't take such pride in forgetting they were children once, too. Can't we at least have the nice things in our little made up worlds?

TL;DR: Girls should get to have their little escapist delusions. As a treat.

[nehswritesstuffs]

Double-Date from Hell

Y’all ever think of something so hilarious that you HAVE to write it, and then it just spirals out of control? Yeah, this is it.

8941 words; I’ve seen versions of this general joke going around and it’s still pretty funny in my brain so please just humor me; I guess it’s a Modern AU w/No Devil Fruits, but Brook is still a skeleton and Minks and Fish-men exist… somehow…? idk; SO MANY PEOPLE ARE ALIVE IN THIS AU THAT SHOULDN’T BE but you know what this is my story too damn bad I mean it’s already set in a quasi-Midwest metro; this took me so long to write because I kept cracking the fck up and I’m sure you’ll be able to tell where

Double-Date from Hell; Law has a new girlfriend. Cora-san’s got a hot date. Nami’s shagging a doctor. Things might be easier if Bell-mère had mentioned to her daughters she’s actually bi before she reconnected with an old flame. [modern!AU, LawNa, Bellazón]

Shuffling into the kitchen, Law blearily went into the fridge and began to poke around almost absentmindedly, hunger the only reason as to why he was currently existing on the mortal plane. What had supposed to be a twelve-hour shift in Logue Town General’s emergency room—as a favor, no less!—had turned into a twenty thanks to the perfect storm of call-offs and reckless pieces of bullshit trying to copy a social media trend. It reminded him of why he never wanted to stay down in Emergency full-time—fuck… doing clinicals there had been bad enough…

“Oh, there’s the sleepy-head!” Law jumped at the sudden confirmation that his father was in the room as well. He took a container filled with leftover noodles and popped it in the microwave oven with a bit more aggression than was necessary. “Rough night?”

“I remember when social media was used to share pictures of cats with poorly-spelled captions and complain about the accuracy of the fantasy book-to-movie pipeline, not to show off doing handstands in dangerous places and getting high off lip balm.” He glanced at his father to see he was dressed rather nice—that was a risk, considering how clumsy the older man was—though most things were better than his current pajama-pants-no-shirt-tousled-bedhead-at-four-in-the-afternoon look. “Cora-san, you know what happens when you wear a tie.”

“I know, I know, but I need to look nice tonight. What do you think?”

“That you look like a man about to turn forty who can’t so much as wear a tie without catching it on something every five minutes.”

“Well, yeah, but the shirt’s nice, right?”

An extremely pale pink with a red heart pattern; the tie was black, though his trousers were white.

“It’s… you.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” The microwave oven beeped at Law and he took the container out to stir. “Probably won’t be back until late, if I’m back at all tonight, so don’t worry if I’m not in.”

Law stopped mid-stir and stared at Cora. “Why would you both be alright, but also not come home tonight?”

“What, you can’t tell?! Your old man’s got a hot date!”

The silence that fell over the kitchen was simply unbearable. Law did not currently have the reserve mana to process that the grinning goofball he referred to as his foster father—foster roommate, on particularly irritating days—had anything even close to a potential sexual encounter lined up. He put the noodles back in the microwave oven and turned it on again.

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know,” he grumbled. “You know I don’t care what you do—we’re both adults now.”

“Oh, come on… you aren’t even the least bit happy for me?”

“I can’t legally be happy until I get at least six cups of coffee and these noodles in me, then we’ll talk.”

“Fine, fine; spoilsport.” Cora sat at the table and pouted, watching his son put together some coffee. He knew he was tired when he brought a mug of it over, as well as the noodles still in the container he heated them up in. “It’s not like I’m an old man—can’t I take inspiration from the fact my son got himself a cute girlfriend?”

“You’ve never met her, so there’s nothing to get inspired from,” Law replied dully. He twirled some of the long pasta on his fork and scowled. “No, this is not an offer for you to meet her either. I want to make sure of this one before that happens.”

“You make it sound like I’m embarrassing.”

“You picked me up from school in clown makeup.”

“It wasn’t that bad…”

“Multiple times.”

“It kept things interesting.”

“Kids recovering from near-terminal illness don’t exactly enjoy being interesting.”

“The assholes that were scared of clowns never bothered you after that.”

“Okay, that I’ll give you.” Law shoved more pasta in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “You know, I think I’ll go out tonight too—bound to be something going on.”

“There you go,” Cora beamed. “Here we are: a couple of young stallions, ready to make the night theirs!”

“Never again say those words in that order again, by all that is good in this world.”

“Spoilsport,” Cora scowled. A devilish grin then flashed across his face. “We should double-date!”

That too was a resounding, firm no.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was the generally-accepted consensus that there was no party like a Straw Hat party.

They weren’t all rowdy affairs that got the cops called at two in the morning—they reserved those for when the on-duty officers were ones likely to just turn the music down and bring their own drinks—but it was always the collection of people who were there that boggled Law’s mind. He had only started attending such shindigs recently after a weird series of events led to him pulling the charismatic teen out of the bay and helping make sure he was still alive. Luffy had declared them friends and that he now had an obligation to hang out, which would have been a one-and-done thing if it wasn’t for the people he collected in the nearly-rural house hidden amongst trees and actual property.

The East Blue kendo and archery champions? A world-class chef? A teenaged medical prodigy? The preeminent Void Century historian turning academia on its head? One of the most sought-after mechanical engineers in the world who also moonlighted in architecture? A living rock music legend? The man that kept literally all the trains in the region running smoothly? That didn’t even get into the kid’s brothers, or people outside of his innermost circle…

…and it certainly didn’t get into Nami.

He had originally begun talking to the redhead after observing her at that first party he attended. She was very level-headed—especially compared to Luffy despite that not meaning much—and knew precisely the situation they had going. It was the modern equivalent of the Enlightenment salon, where people got together and exchanged ideas and made changes happen. It was a counterculture hotbed with significantly fewer hard drugs and way more bellyflop competitions between people who couldn’t swim in the backyard’s in-ground pool. It was the next generation figuring shit out, getting ready to usher in a new age. Except, not only did the weather-and-surveying whiz keep everything running, it was very easy to say that she was the brains of the entire operation, making Luffy’s natural charm work for something. The next thing he knew they were chatting amiably, then kissing, and—after a considerable blackout—woke up very naked in bed with her the next morning.

It was a little awkward as they put everything together after that. They both thought the other was older than they really were (he thought her only a couple years younger than him instead of the actual six, and she thought he was well into his thirties (to be fair, he did say he was an actual surgeon while flirting)), and there was the wolf whistles that came out of some of the other Straw Hats as they went down to breakfast, but they settled into something… comfortable after that. The “crew” generally accepted him and he found their antics… tolerable, he guessed, especially considering what putting up with them meant for his love life…

“Oi! Witch! We need you to stop sucking geriatric face for two minutes and rein in Luffy!”

Nami groaned into Law’s mouth in frustration before breaking the kiss to glare at Zoro from across the large, open-concept living room that thankfully only contained the main Straw Hats crew aside from the man beneath her. Law knew to not remove his hands from her waist and rear, else she get pressured into something more involved. “What happened to someone saying he could handle him?”

All she got in response was a one-eyed glare.

“If she’s not back in two minutes like you said, Roronoa-ya, I will make you regret that age comment,” Law warned, voice dripping in sarcasm. Zoro flipped him his middle finger, which he returned.

“Boys, behave,” Nami sighed as she left the room. Law took it as his opportunity to see if there was any food available yet, shuffling over to the kitchen island where Sanji was working. A mug of coffee was already waiting for him as he sat down and watched the blond at work.

“Thanks,” he muttered, drinking the coffee gratefully.

“Just keep her happy,” Sanji replied. He and Law were in a tenuous sort of agreement, both men recognizing they were from the same Blue from the moment they met. Neither of them talked about it much, but it was clear that they were both in the East because it was not the North, and that was all they needed.

“If not, then you know it won’t be from lack of effort on my end.”

“True. Oh, Nami-swan told me the other day you don’t eat bread. Is it a gluten thing, or…?”

“Nah—just don’t like it. I physically can eat it, but just haven’t wanted to for a while now.”

“Not since home?”

“Something like that.”

“Okay, good, because I remember you eating breaded things the last few times you were over, but I have a special coating I can use if it’s a gluten issue.”

“Nope—just a preference.” Law sipped his coffee and watched the other man work, his hands nimble as he prepped and cooked. It reminded him of himself at his own craft, in a way, mesmerizing him until he felt a pair of arms warp around his midsection from behind. “Luffy tamed?”

“For the time being,” Nami murmured in his ear. “He’s going to be a handful next week when his brothers are over.”

“Not entirely sure how you do it,” he admitted. “Then again, I don’t know how any of you do it.”

“Luff just has that magnetism, you know?” Sanji chuckled. “When we’re all together, it’s because he knows we need to be in order to move forward. It’s why we’ve even got old-timers with us, as you know.”

“Nami, your friends are childish.”

“People wonder why I don’t date boys,” she replied. “That would just set both parties up for disappointment.”

“How true your words are, Nami-swan,” Sanji crooned. “We are all but mere amateurs compared to your beauty and grace. The fact you decide to honor us with your presence is more than we deserve.”

Fuck… to be that idiotically horny again. Law tried to remember the last time he said anything as stupid as the heart-eyed cook and, to be honest, couldn’t remember anything of the like. Seas… was he really that old…? No, he decided… just… busy during those years. He would take busy… as though busy was having an impact on him now…

“Sanji-kun,” Nami said sweetly, “I’m going to bring Torao upstairs for a little discussion before dinner, if that’s alright with you.”

“As you wish, Nami-swa~a~n,” the blond swooned. He blew her a kiss as she winked and pulled Law onto his feet.

This place was so fucking weird.

Heading up the stairs, Law silently followed Nami as she led him through the house he was already strikingly familiar with. They slipped into her room and she locked the door behind them. Finally—peace and quiet.

“Don’t you think you were a little rough on Blackleg-ya?” he asked as she unbuttoned his shirt. “I only meant it as a joke…”

“Don’t you worry about Sanji-kun,” she hummed, pressing kisses along his neck and collarbone as her fingers went over his toned abdomen. She guided him down to his knees before sitting on the edge of the mattress. With his hat long-forgotten in the living room, she was able to gently card her fingers through his fluffy hair as he turned his attention to her legs. He gently massaged her calves with his expert hands, wandering up her thighs. He went under the hem of her skirt and his eyebrows rose at what he discovered.

“Nothing…?” he smirked. “Naughty.” He lifted her leg to hook her knee on his shoulder before slowly tracing a line of his own kisses down her inner thigh and towards her hot, wet core. Hiking her skirt a bit higher, she let her other leg fall a bit more to the side, opening up for him. He lapped at her experimentally, smiling smugly at the noise she made.

“Fuck me good, Law-kun,” she ordered. “Make him hear me scream.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was quarter past four in the morning before Law actually left the house at 1000 Sunny Road, dragging his ass into his car and wishing it was quieter as he pulled away. The only consolations to his pre-dawn walk of shame was that he slipped out when all the other Straw Hats sans Nami were asleep and that he could still taste his girlfriend the entire drive back. She had seen him out after some additional, varied rounds in her bedroom, kissing him through the open car window.

“Don’t be a stranger now,” she had smirked. Fuck… she had him on a leash and they both knew it. Her taste had almost faded by the time he pulled into the driveway at his dad’s. He killed the engine and leaned back against the seat—a few hours of sleep and he could be back into something of a normal rhythm for when he went on day shifts the following week. It was all he could do to haul himself out the car and into the house, blaming his exhaustion on the twenty hour ER shift from hell messing with him and not his girlfriend fucking his brains out.

As Law walked through the dimly-lit house, he heard a snore come from the living room. He took a peek and saw Cora-san laying on the floor again, having passed out after some sort of fall. Again. Law hefted the other man onto his shoulder and helped him up the stairs to the main bedroom, where he deposited him on the mattress with little fanfare.

Wait a second… were those bite marks…? He looked closer at the bit of Cora-san’s chest that was exposed—buttons undone while his tie hung loose around his neck—and sure as shit, there were bite marks and smeared lipstick on both his chest and neck. It was a burnt-orange, which was definitely not a color that was in the house, lending credence to the “hot date” theory as much as Law shuddered at the thought.

He left a container of salve on the nightstand and made sure the other man was at least fully on the bed before going to sleep himself—with any luck, he wouldn’t have to hear a thing about the date and they continue on with their lives in peace. The less he could think about his father and sex, the better things were going to be.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“So… this old man you’re fucking… he at least cute in some weird geriatric way?”

“Ugh, what has Usopp been telling you?” Nami groaned. Her sister Nojiko chuckled at her from across the table, drinking her tea smugly. One of her rare mornings home and she was already being grilled. It was too early for this shit. “I’m not fucking an old man. He is in his twenties, thank you.”

“Turning thirty next month, is he?”

“He is twenty-six, for your information. He just looks a little rough because he’s got tattoos and is already a surgeon. Med school, clinical rotations, and residency are all vampires.”

“Sounds fishy to me,” Nojiko frowned. “I can’t be worrying after both you and Bell-mère now.”

“Bell-mère is a lesbian who just started reconnecting with an old flame from her Marine days,” Nami reasoned. “The circumstances are completely different.”

“You keep telling yourself that, sis,” Nojiko teased. “I still have on great confidence that he’s older than dirt, and that’s despite the fact you hang out with a man so old he’s a skeleton.”

“I am going to kill Usopp!”

“It wasn’t Usopp…”

“Who the fuck are you talking to behind my back?!”

It was then that their adoptive mother shuffled into the room, still half-asleep from the looks of things.

“I was woken by the sound of mockery; show me the object of ridicule,” Bell-mère grunted. She looked at her daughters and knew instantly what was going on. “We calling out the Old Man Fucker for what she is?”

“BELL-MÈRE!”

“Honey, if you’re planning on becoming a young widow, then at least make sure he’s loaded first,” Bell-mère said, unfazed by her youngest’s ire. She poked her head in the refrigerator and frowned. “Nojiko, sweetie, did you get more milk?”

“Haven’t been to the store yet,” her elder daughter said idly. “Will take care of it on my way back from work.”

“Since we’re currently in the habit of wanting to know about each other’s love lives,” Nami growled through grit teeth, “how’s Cora? That was your date’s name from when you went out the other night, eh?”

“That tongue still knows its way around a clit, let me tell you,” Bell-mère grinned devilishly. Both her daughters grew pale at the admission and immediately excused themselves from the table, neither in the mood for the conversation to go from zero to a hundred in less than a sentence.

Fine—ask about details, then run away at the details. Bell-mère chomped on dry cereal and wondered how she got two prudes for daughters.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Please don’t embarrass me more than they already do,” Law warned. He had his three best friends piled into his sensible, bright yellow crossover—Polar Tang—in the middle of making the huge mistake of driving them to the Straw Hats’ lair on a Saturday morning. They were already on the freeway, headed from the city towards the outer suburbs.

“We get it, we get it: you’re in it for the tight-ass pussy,” Shachi scoffed from the back seat. Penguin hit his shoulder in jest.

“If he was in it for just pussy, he wouldn’t be bringing us to the weirdo, sus-as-fuck party house in the middle of buttfuck-nowhere he goes to get said pussy in,” the other backseat gremlin said, tone rather matter-of-fact. “We’re a nurse and a couple of techs—how would we be embarrassing to a surgeon?”

“By talking about pussy the entire time,” Bepo stated flatly. He looked at Law and saw his grip on the steering wheel was unusually clenched. “Do you want me to drive?”

“No… I just need to remember this conversation for the next time I get asked why those two don’t just bite the bullet and get full nursing degrees instead of being the most overqualified nursing techs in the East Blue.”

“This,” Shachi said, pointing at himself with the first two fingers on both hands, “being able to sign off on patient care-related shit, would be dangerous and you know it.”

“It’s best for everyone involved that we stay Bepo’s gofers, because that makes us available as your gofers, and if we suddenly have to worry about shit like responsibilities, then where would you be?”

“Able to have competence on all my shifts?” Law snarked.

While tuning out the indignant protests in the back seat, Law turned off the freeway and headed towards Foosha Township, where Sunny Road was located. It was generally a tranquil road, with clusters of houses now and then to breakup wooded areas and the occasional farm. The car was thankfully quiet as he turned down a wooded drive, with Penguin breaking the silence as the conspicuously large house came into view.

“Law? Is this Straw Hat kid, like, loaded?”

“I don’t ask, so you don’t ask,” Law sighed. He parked the car on the front lawn next to Franky’s turquoise muscle car and turned to fully glare at the hooligans in the backseat. “Strawhat-ya��s not fully legit, but I don’t think he’s technically breaking any laws, and the cops here like him for some reason, so don’t fuck it up.”

“I thought you said the kid’s nineteen,” Penguin frowned. “How are you not wholly-legit at nineteen?!”

“Like I said: don’t ask.” Law then unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the Tang, getting some cloth shopping bags and his backpack from the trunk before heading around to the back of the house. It was just Luffy and his brothers there, all three splashing about in the shallow end of the pool while wearing arm floaties and inner tubes.

“TORAO!” Luffy squealed in delight. He jumped out of the pool and ran towards the surgeon—floatation devices and all—who got a sopping wet hug whether he liked it or not. “I was hoping that you’d come over today! Ace and Sabo are here! And Auncle Iva’s coming later! Grunkle Rayleigh can’t though because Grauntie Shakky made him promise something, and…”

“Strawhat-ya, I want you to meet the friends I was telling you about,” Law said, turning so that Luffy could get a good look at them. “That’s Penguin and Shachi, they’re nursing techs on my floor, and Bepo there’s one of the floor and hospital’s best charge nurses. We’ve known each other for ages.”

“Any friend of Torao’s a friend of mine!” Luffy grinned. He wrapped the two techs in a noodly hug, making them gurgle. “Oh! Yeah! Ace! Sabo! Say hi to Torao and his friends!”

“Luff, you’re going to kill them with affection,” Ace smirked.

“Yeah,” Sabo agreed with a laugh. “I don’t think we have enough space to bury more bodies in the backyard.”

“Please tell me that was a joke,” Shachi squeaked.

Law opted to not respond to that and instead left Penguin and Shachi in Luffy’s clutches while he and Bepo brought the bags in. Sanji was already in the kitchen prepping, while Usopp, Franky, and Brook played a racing game on the television.

“Did you get the goods?” the chef asked, pointing at Law with a knife. Law put one of the bags down and pulled out a bag of white powder covered in Wanolese script, which he threw at the man.

“I feel like I just watched a drug deal,” Bepo deadpanned.

“Even better than drugs,” Sanji claimed. “I don’t use a lot of it, but I’m practicing dishes from Wano for whenever it is Luff makes good on his threat to temporarily kidnap the consul’s son again.”

“Say the word ‘borrow’; it’s less incriminating,” Usopp shouted from the living room, not even taking his eyes off the game once.

“It’s just MSG,” Law shrugged.

“Yeah, but the good shit,” Sanji emphasized. He helped Law and Bepo unpack the rest of the bags and put everything away—odds and ends that weren’t of much consequence, but would be dangerous if missing later. “Nami-swan’s with Robin-chan picking Chopper up from school, by the way. They won’t be in until after lunch.”

That made Law’s eyebrows raise. “Sakura U is in Drum County. Four hours just driving round-trip.”

“Yeah, I know; I helped move the kid in freshman year.”

“Nami never volunteers to go get Chopper… unless…”

“Sounds like her mom’s getting some speecy-spicy dating action this week and she doesn’t want to hear about it,” Franky laughed. “I give the woman credit; she’s super feisty.”

“My dad just started dating again too—I get it,” Law said. “There are just some things you don’t want to hear… or learn… or think about…”

“If my old geezer started dating again, I’d die,” Sanji admitted with a shudder.

“Saaaame,” Usopp chimed in. The race ended and the teen groaned. “Brook! You are literally older than video games themselves! How did you beat me?!”

“I guess I’m a gamer down to my bones… which is all of me!” Brook cackled. “Law’s friend! Would you like to join us for the next round?”

“Uh… sure…” Bepo said warily. He sat down next to Usopp and accepted the fourth controller. “Are there any bear characters?”

As Usopp explained the game mechanics to Bepo, Law took his backpack up to Nami’s room and began to set himself up for later that night. He took care of the shit like condoms and lube because he wasn’t a goddamned barbarian and didn’t want his girlfriend to get worried if in the chaos of everything she forgot her medication for a couple days. It was just part of being a responsible adult and not some skeezebag looking to fuck how he wanted and whom he wanted without thinking about repercussions. The thought of a physical consequence crossed his mind as he shut the nightstand drawer and shuddered—Cora-san as a grandfather of all things would be something he’d need more than a few months to brace for.

“Law, there you are, holy shit.” He looked over his shoulder to see Penguin and Shachi both standing there, looking precisely the amount of moist that would be appropriate if they had been dragged into the pool against their will. Not only that, but they appeared to be absolutely flabbergasted by the entire situation they found themselves in. “That’s the second-in-command of the Revolutionary Army in the pool… the national-level political party, not state-level!”

“I know, Penguin.”

“…and the other’s one of the lieutenants of the Moby City mayor!”

“I know, Shachi.”

“…and apparently the host of Impel Drag Race is ‘popping by’ later?!”

“…and the straw-hat kid’s referring to the former state lieutenant governor as his grunkle?!”

“…and the one in the kitchen you had us go to six specialty import stores for is sous chef and heir to the Baratie?!”

“…and apparently your girlfriend is currently on a fetch quest to haul over here one of the few who can out-prodigy you when it comes to medicine?!”

“…a kid, may I remind you, whose grandparents are part of the reason why we even have world-class medicine in Greater Logue Town, let alone the state?!”

“…and Bepo’s getting his ass handed to him in video games by the Soul King himself…?!”

“I get it: we stick out the least despite the fact you two hold multiple state-level swimming records each, I’m the youngest surgeon in all departments at Logue Town General by at least a decade, and Bepo’s a bear,” Law reminded them casually. “To consider this as anything close to a normal party house is sort of a disgrace to the very concept of a party house.”

“This place is batshit,” Penguin stated. “It also might break physics because it feels like it’s bigger on the inside.”

“That’s your crisis to work through, not mine,” Law said. He reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out two single wrapped condoms, throwing them at his friends. “Be careful; if Hancock-ya shows up tonight, she’s going to bring the whole team, and I know how strong of a will you two have in front of a pretty face and thick thighs.”

“Wait, what…?” Shachi gaped. Law shrugged.

“The captain of the Amazon Lily roller derby team out of Kuja has a weird crush on Strawhat-ya that he doesn’t quite recognize and when she’s here, the entire team is here.”

“Law, have we ever expressed how much we truly appreciate your friendship?” Penguin said, his and Shachi’s demeanor clearly changed. They were in such awe that tears were beginning to well in their eyes. “This could honestly be the best night of our lives!”

“Step-on-me-pussy is literally the best pussy,” Shachi added with a sniffle. “We are in your debt.”

“Remember that next time I need changed dressings, blood draws, and vitals from everyone in the unit half an hour before shift change,” Law warned. His friends didn’t hear him—they were too busy imagining the possibilities for later on.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“What does it say about everything that you still don’t strike me as an adopt-into-single-fatherhood sort of man?” Bell-mère asked. She was at Cora’s for the evening, glad that the mysterious kid of his was gone with friends for the weekend. Picking up a picture frame from an end table, she looked at the image of her former comrade-in-arms hugging a sullen tween with Reverse Mountain National Park in the background. “Cute kid though.”

“Yeah, that’s from not long after I became his official guardian,” Cora said from the kitchen. “He was sick when I got him—didn’t think he’d make it past thirteen.”

“No shit. Now you said he’s in his twenties?”

“Yeah—went into medicine; his birth family was full of doctors and I think he wants to honor them that way. Works at Logue Town General and everything.”

“Who knows? He might know my youngest daughter’s beau.” Bell-mère went into the kitchen and sat at the table, watching Cora cook on the electric range—the only reason he wasn’t spontaneously bursting into flame while cooking their dinner. “She’s fucking some doctor who’s got to be closer to our age than hers if the intel we get from her friends is anything.”

“Possibly, though there’s a lot of doctors in LTG.”

“True.” She watched as he splashed some sauce on himself accidentally. “Sure you don’t need help?”

“I’m sure,” he winced. “So, what about you? Still never gave me an answer about the girls.”

“Something just clicked in my brain, you know?” she shrugged, taking it upon herself to pour the wine instead. “I’m sure you had a moment like that with your son.”

“Yeah, but Bell-mère the Beast? Adopting two little orphans while out on deployment?”

“You blew your cover on a covert job when you left, and the only reason you’re not dead is because it involved infiltrating your brother’s criminal empire and you both are worth more to him alive and unperturbed.”

“Technicalities,” Cora scoffed. He brought two plates of food to the table and sat down. “Things are still a little frosty between Sengoku and me for it, but I’d do it all over again and I’m sure you feel the same.”

“Beyond a doubt.” She ate some of the rice on her plate and chuckled. “At least fatherhood made you a decent home cook.”

“I’ll show you what else I’m still decent at after dessert,” he teased. She snorted in laughter—of course he would, because of course he was.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was late that night as Law and Nami both laid in bed, curled up together with their naked bodies flush against one another. The house was finally quiet and they could both just relax—a rare treat for the place they were currently occupying.

“Hey… Nami…?” He could feel her smile against his chest at the dropped honorific; something he did only when they were alone.

“Yeah…?”

“Is this… what you want…?”

She sat up and stared at him, raising one perfectly manicured eyebrow in a curious arch. “What do you mean by that?”

“Having the extent of our relationship being sneaking off to fuck in the middle of a house party?” He tried to shrug aloofly, but was too taken in by the sight of her in the moonlight to do more than twitch. “Would you like to be… I dunno… more involved…?”

“Depends on your definition,” she replied. She hugged her knees as she looked at him, the very sexy and very naked man in her bed bringing a tattooed arm up in order to rub circles on her back.

“Seeing one another without any of our friends needing to be there,” he mused. “Showing up at one another’s workplaces as a surprise, meeting my dad… your mom and sister…” He exhaled heavily, avoiding eye contact by staring at her shoulder tattoo. “I’m not saying commitment, but…”

“I get it; you want to know what’s on the table, if you need to keep future options in mind.”

“I guess.” He paused, trying to find the words. “I don’t mind if we’re a temporary thing…”

“You can say ‘fling’. I won’t be insulted.”

“Okay, fine: I don’t care if this is a fling and we drift apart or we’re actually friends with damn good benefits or I’m just what you’re into for now and you drop me like a rock next month. I mean… I’m getting sex out of it… sex with you…”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” she reminded him, patting the bit of blanket covering his dick. “This is working for more than just you, trust me.”

“What I’m saying is…” he swallowed hard, “if you’d like, I’m willing to start exploring what a life together might be like.”

“See if we like what’s being laid down?”

“Pretty much. We’d need to meet each other’s parents first—hiding you from my dad any longer than I have to will be torture.”

“Well, I’ve never tried the meet-the-parents routine with anyone except for friends, so if you want to try, I’d say it’s worth a shot.”

A small smile twisted the corner of his mouth upwards. “Yeah…?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Law exhaled, only then he realized he had been holding his breath. “Okay. We can do this…? We can do this. I mean, we’re adults.”

“We are.” She then laid back down, settling herself between his arm and his chest. “Let’s talk about it more after some sleep. Then I’ll tell my mom when I get home.”

“…and I’ll tell Cora-san.”

“Wait…” she giggled incredulously. “Your dad’s name is Cora?”

“It’s an old nickname,” he grumbled, “but it is what he prefers to be called. I’ll break that down for you later as well.”

“No, it’s just funny because that’s the name of the woman my mom’s dating. Sorting through the Two Cora Situation is going to be a group bonding exercise in of itself.”

“I guess so.” He closed his eyes as he felt Nami bring the blankets around them again, taking in the wonderful silence of the night.

Well, it was silent for people without really good hearing, as he could have sworn he heard Shachi sob through an orgasm in another room. Only his friends could ruin a moment and not even be there.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The following morning went the average amount of well an after-party morning could go. Most of the house denizens were some version of worn-out thanks to either staying up late, copious amounts of alcohol, or both. The pair of Kuja that stayed the night with Penguin and Shachi both left early—Law had still been on his first cup of coffee when they did—dragging along the smitten Hancock with them. The surgeon watched as his friends found their way into the back by the pool, plopping down at the little table next to him as he scrolled through news headlines on his phone.

“You’ve been holding out,” Penguin scolded.

“Yeah,” Shachi said, expression to be too relaxed to be anything but blissful. “We got them on social and everything. What took you so long to bring us here?”

Law shrugged through his coffee, which his friends refused to accept for an answer. They both glared at him, waiting for whole minutes until he cracked.

“I wanted to make sure of it… you know.” He contemplated his next sentence, thought better of it, and went through with it anyhow. “I’m having her meet Cora-san.”

“Oh, fuck,” Shachi cringed. “That’s… that’s a hell of a step for you.”

“The number of people that have both met your dad and seen your dick is extremely small, and the list even exists in the first place purely due to changing rooms and nothing sexual,” Penguin noted.

“Yeah, you think I don’t realize that?” Law fired back. “Nami-ya and me, Cora-san and his… lady-friend I’m surprised actually exists, and Nami-ya’s mom with her lady-friend—just going to tear the bandage off and get us all together.”

Shachi let out a low whistle. “Oooh… you got it bad.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Law grunted. “I’m putting up with Strawhat-ya to be with her, so might as well.”

It was then that Luffy, almost if on-cue, ran out of the house and did a cannonball into the pool, splashing water all over Law, but not Penguin and Shachi. The latter two tried to hide their giggles as a now-familiar shishishi echoed through the yard.

Yeah, he had it bad alright.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

As it turned out, it didn’t take long for Law to get a hold of everyone’s schedules. After looking at the family calendar and swiping her mother’s phone while she was in the shower, Nami was able to confirm that three weeks from that Tuesday worked well. He felt a sense of triumph as they coordinated the event, all the way down to the thumbs-up emojis that were sent his way when she asked her mom to join them.

Now, for the big one. It was luckily Law’s turn to make dinner that Monday, which meant that he was able to have everything ready by the time Cora-san came home from work. The older man raised an eyebrow when he saw his son in the kitchen with food nearly ready.

“Anything the matter?” he asked.

“Nothing’s wrong; just sit.” Cora did and Law brought over two plates of carbonara. “I just want a nice dinner for once.”

“Not complaining,” Cora nodded. He twirled some pasta on his fork and took a large bite, proceeding to talk with his mouth full. “So… you gonna tell me what this is about…?”

Fuck, busted.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to listen to me and not get too excited,” Law frowned. Cora perked up, his attention piqued. “Since we’re both dating someone…”

“…yeah…?”

“I thought it would be nice if we took a very non-committal step to clear the air and all meet one another.” Sparkles formed in the older man’s eyes and Law almost instantly regretted it. “She’s inviting her mom and mom’s girlfriend, while I’m supposed to invite you and… whatever it is that you consider a hot date. You know… be adults.”

“A triple date! How social of you! This young lady of yours must be doing wonders for your tolerance levels!” A thought then came to Cora and he instantly grew serious. “The crew isn’t jealous, are they?”

“Shachi and Penguin were both ‘stepped on’ by tri-state roller derby champions over the weekend and Bepo has decided that he’s determined to mentor this kid who we hang around now so he also doesn’t get the life sucked out of him by being a teenager in med school.”

“Then they approve! Excellent! Let the appropriate parties know and we can set up a day and time! Oh, this will be fun!”

“I was thinking three weeks from tomorrow, at a place near the hospital so it can be for lunch. We double-checked your schedules.”

“Not a dinner-date here…?”

“No, because I want to keep your shenanigans to a minimum, and that’s usually achievable when you’re trapped in a booth seat.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he admitted. “I’ll pass the word along tonight.”

“Thanks—let me know if anything comes up.”

“Oh, not a problem.” Cora couldn’t stop his wide smile as he looked at his son across the table. “You’ve come a long way, you know.”

“Yeah,” he blushed, “I know.”

“They’d be proud.”

“I know.”

“Now: does this mean I’m getting grandkids?”

It honestly took all Law had to not fling pasta in Cora’s face.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Later that night, Cora found himself having his final smoke of the evening before turning in for bed. Law was already asleep—kid’s circadian rhythm had always been fucked—and that meant that Cora was able to take his cigarette on the patio in peace without hearing his boy nag him about emphysema and other such things. He was nearly done when his phone buzzed: The Beast.

“Hey,” he answered, applying a suave tone to his voice.

“You said you wanted to talk about something?” Bell-mère asked. The text was actually a request to call when she was free, but he wasn’t complaining. “Is this about phone sex? Because I am actually in the mood for some phone sex…”

“We can do that later—there is something I want to get out of the way first.”

“Who’s dying?”

“No one,” Cora said cheerily. He stubbed out the cigarette and made his way back into the house. “It’s just my boy’s decided to coordinate something between us, so we can meet his girlfriend and her mom and mom’s girlfriend!”

“A triple date? With mostly people he doesn’t know? Kind of a lot for a kid that only tolerates hanging out with three people aside from his girlfriend.”

“Well, rumor has it that he met her at a party, and he tolerates her friends, so who knows?” Cora was beaming brightly as he looked at himself in the mirror next to the door—this was the sort of thing that was a rite of passage, wasn’t it? Meeting your kid’s significant other? Her mom? Oh, it was exciting! Was this a sign something more was on the horizon?! “He was thinking of going and doing something low-key: lunch at this restaurant that’s near the hospital.”

The line went quiet for a moment. “…Don Silver?”

“Yeah! I guess he and his friends go there during and after shifts a lot. It’s the kind of place that doesn’t need a reservation, but he’s asking them to set aside a table for us anyhow since he’s such a good regular.” Cora then paused, expression falling “How did you know?”

“My daughter wants us to meet her old-man-doctor-boyfriend, his dad, and dad’s girlfriend for lunch there. Tuesday at one?”

“…oh.”

Both Cora and Bell-mère were silent—no… it couldn’t be…

“Belle…?”

“Yeah…?”

“Did she tell you what the reservation was under…?”

“Her old-man-doctor-boyfriend’s name, but it’s not Donquixote…”

“I never gave him my family name, Belle. The adoption papers went through too slow for it to take effect before he started med school, even if he wanted to change it.”

“It’s a weird name, hold on, she wrote it down for me…” He heard a rustling of paper and then her grunting as she attempted to figure out how to pronounce it. “Tra… Tra-faye-el-gar?”

“Trafalgar; my son’s family name is Trafalgar.”

“Huh.” Cora began to chew at his fingernails and pace the kitchen as his mind began to race and the woman on the other end contemplated. He then began to pace and tug at his hair.

“Belle…?”

Nothing.

“Belle, answer me.”

Silence.

“Belle…?!”

“So,” she chuckled, “wanna fuck with ‘em?”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Don Silver was a well-patronized family restaurant within walking distance of Logue Town General, which made it the perfect location for Law to slip out to during his shift, but also to slip back in should an emergency arise. He left Bepo in charge of his patients until he came back, promising to stay late if he was out so long it threw everything off. When he walked into the restaurant, the owner simply gestured to the usual back booth he normally haunted with his friends, seeing that Nami was already there.

“Ah, there you are,” she chuckled, exchanging a quick peck as he sat down next to her. “Everything seems like it’s going as planned. Nojiko was a little irritated that she wasn’t invited, but she’ll get her chance.”

“Yeah, she will,” he agreed. Law felt as though his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. “I still can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“I know… kind of exciting, isn’t it?” She leaned in close and pressed a kiss to the back of his jaw, smiling as she saw how confused the owner was at the scene. “I should have you know that you might not be on the list of favorites after this.”

“Your mom that big of a menace?”

“More like Gin over there and Sanji have had beef since culinary school,” she chuckled. Law caught that the owner was staring at them and he shrugged—how could he have known? “Oh, hey, there’s Bell-mère!”

“…and that’s Cora-san,” Law noted. He watched has his foster father held open the door for Nami’s mother. “Wait a second… where’s their dates…?”

“That is… huh…” Nami trailed off as Cora and Bell-mère made their way to the table. Both parents decided to slide directly into the booth seating, with the leggy, clumsy one on the inside. “Do we need to wait for the others, or…?”

“There’s no others; what are you talking about?” Bell-mère scoffed. A waiter came over to deposit some glasses of water—a handled mug for Cora, as they were warned beforehand—and battered menus, leaving the four to their own devices for the time being. “It’s just us and our manfriends, although I’m honestly impressed you went as old as you did considering mine’s just a year younger than me…”

“Nojiko and I have been under the impression you’ve been seeing a woman named Cora…”

“Short for Corazón,” Bell-mère shrugged. “That was your codename out in the field, right hon?”

“It was, wasn’t it, Law?” Cora smirked. He tried very hard to not notice the deep sense of confusion his son was radiating. “You’ve been here a lot; what’s good?”

After some awkward deliberation, the waiter came back and took their orders and the menus while depositing a breadbasket. A silence settled over the table once the waiter left, one that made the younger couple hold hands underneath the table for strength, while the older couple decided to put their plan into action.

Operation Fuck with the Brats was a-go.

“We want to thank both of you for meeting us like this,” Cora said seriously, deciding to be the one to break the ice. He nearly couldn’t stop himself from bursting into laughter as he watched panic settle in on his son’s face. “It’s not exactly the sort of thing we want to talk about when I’m liable to trip while wandering around the house.”

“What…?” Nami wondered, cocking her eyebrow.

“Man’s a complete klutz,” Bell-mère said before Law could explain. “Let’s just hope it’s not inheritable.”

All the color left Nami and Law’s faces at once.

“What… erm… do you mean by that…?” the younger woman asked. Bell-mère shrugged.

“Eh, just putting shit down in the right places,” she replied. “Should’ve done it years ago, but never had the reason, until now…”

“Cora-san…? What is she talking about…?” Law asked, his voice faint. His foster father grinned widely.

“We wanted you two to be our Best Man and Maid of Honor!” he beamed. “You’d be perfect for the job! It doesn’t even get into being Emergency Guardians…”

“Oh I’m going to be sick,” Nami grimaced.

“Don’t you dare, you little shit,” Bell-mère warned. “I would think it’d be an honor. You did always want to be an older sister growing up.”

“…and we’re already on the older side for a baby, so having their older siblings be the ones to take care of them in case we can’t is perfect!”

Law sank into the booth, completely dumbstruck. Cora-san…?! And Nami’s mom…?! He was almost regretting not making this meeting at the Southern Blue pub down the street—at least they had a liquor license. “Does Doflamingo know about this…?”

“My brother wouldn’t know what to do with a kid if he had one walk in his front door,” Cora scoffed. “I know because I watched it happen. Multiple times.” The mortification on the younger couple’s faces was definitely worth the ruse; the kids seemed to be inventing new stages of grief. “Speaking of front doors—Bell-mère’s moving in since there’s more room, so you have the choice of staying in your current room or out elsewhere.”

“Nami, you and Nojiko get to fight it out over what to do with where we’re at now,” Bell-mère added. “Just don’t rent it out to any of your weirdo friends—I’d like the place to stay intact, thank you.”

“You have to be fucking with us,” Nami decided. She dug into her purse and whipped out her phone. “I’m calling Nojiko.”

“Go ahead, be that way,” Bell-mère said. She watched as Nami hit the button to dial her sister and held the phone up to her ear.

“So…? How’s it going…?” Ah, fuck, she sounded too smug.

“Nojiko, did you know anything about this?”

“…about what…?”

“…about why the hell our mom decided to meet my boyfriend so easily…”

“Ooohhhh, that,” Nojiko replied, a grin on her voice. “Yeah, she should have told us that her kinky reconnect was a dude before she got herself all prego. She offered me Maid of Honor first, but I said you can have it since you’d actually want to sleep with the geriatric Best Man…”

“I fucking hate you all,” Nami said before ending the call. She put her phone screen-down on the table and glared at her mother. “You are absolutely mortifying.”

“I am what I am,” Bell-mère shrugged. She then wrinkled her nose and looked at Cora with a frown. “Oh… the kid’s gonna be a Donquixote, isn’t it…?”

“Unless you’ve got a better idea.”

“Then how do you suggest we tell your brother? Ease him in gently or just let him discover on his own?”

“I honestly don’t know which would be worse.”

“Your brother—that’s up to you. Oh! Food’s here!”

Sure enough Bell-mère did notice their food coming out the kitchen as the waiter dropped off the plates cheerily. Both Law and Nami really didn’t feel like eating anymore, while their parents both began to pick at their fries…

…and laughed.

“Ah, fuck, we really had you going!” Bell-mère snorted.

“Your faces are priceless,” Cora added.

“So… you’re not having a baby…” Nami stated.

“…and you’re not getting married,” Law continued.

“Tch; don’t think I’m ready to settle down quite yet,” Bell-mère scoffed. “Besides, this klutzy nightmare? Fuck baby-proofing—I’d have to Rosi-proof.”

“Then you’re not seeing one another…?” Law knew it was dangerous to be hopeful. He was anyhow, only for his hopes to be dashed against the floor unceremoniously like a slippery water glass.

“Sorry to burst that bubble, kids, but I am one-hundred-percent fucking this goober despite all logic and reasoning telling me that I probably shouldn’t,” Bell-mère shrugged. “Didn’t think I’d be with a man again after we last hooked up in the Marines, but I have to admit he’s improved with age.”

“Belle…” Cora giggled, blushing furiously. “That’s still my son and his cute girlfriend…”

“…and that’s my daughter and her geriatric manfriend,” she replied. “They’re adults; I think they can handle it.”

To be honest? Neither Law nor Nami wanted anything to do with anything at that very moment.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was actually a fucking gorgeous day as Law laid face-down on the grass in the backyard at 1000 Sunny Drive. He hadn’t thought it was particularly appropriate to show his face at Luffy’s sus-as-fuck party house in the middle of buttfuck-nowhere after what had happened earlier in the week, but Bepo and the goons insisted. While the bear chatted amiably with Chopper and Kaya (how the fuck did Usopp of all the kids got himself a girlfriend? That he wasn’t having sex with yet? No one really knew), Penguin and Shachi were biding their time before the Amazons Lilys showed up (and let’s be real: the nursing techs knew they were the lay-conquest), while Law… he was just trying to not die of embarrassment.

“So…” a voice said, almost consolingly. “You fucked your sister.”

“She is not my sister, Roronoa-ya,” Law replied. He didn’t need to look to see the kendo genius standing there, nor that it was the chef who nudged him in the side with his foot.

“Well, your parents fucked before you did, so that makes you siblings.”

“That does not make them siblings, mossbrain,” Sanji scoffed. “Come on, Law. What do you think you’re going to achieve by doing all this sulking?”

“I’m touching grass; go away.”

“I don’t think that’s what they mean, but keep telling yourself that. Besides, you know the marimo never learned about sex-ed, birds or bees. I bet his old man would have reproduced via budding if he could and skipped the adoption paperwork.”

“Yours probably wishes he could bake himself a less pervy son.”

“Fuck off, you overgrown grass stain,” Sanji hissed.

“You realize none of this is helping, right?” Law said into the lawn.

“Eh; worth a shot.” Law heard Sanji flick open his lighter and the familiar smell of cigarettes hit his nose—the man smoked the same brand as Cora.

“Get away from him, you vultures,” scolded a very familiar voice. Zoro chuckled lowly as Sanji pulled him away. Once the clowns had dispersed, Nami sat down on the grass and sighed, hugging her knees.

“I blame Bell-mère for getting Nojiko in on it,” she reminded him. “She’s the reason any of these morons know anything… well, that and Sanji not having Gin blocked on social.”

“I know—it doesn’t make it any less embarrassing.”

“True, but it does mean that we’re probably going to spend holidays together at the very least, whether we’re fucking or not.” She reached over and began scratching his scalp, eliciting a heavy whine. “Look at it this way: they could have not been joking.”

“Doesn’t mean it can’t still happen,” he replied. “Pregnancy can occur all the way until post-menopause, and many are accidental.”

“Shhhh…” she soothed, smoothing his hair. “Don’t think about it.”

All he could do was squeak out a pained groan—he was a doctor… all he could do was think about it.

[generalsmemories]

it's me again!! here to also compliment your work-- usually i don't read fanfic all that much, but your writing is just... very sweet and heartfelt, if that makes sense? just by reading your work, someone can tell that you really do love jing yuan! (which like... same) and i guess that's all i wanted to say!! sry if this was random adgjfsjfhjd

-- 🍈 anon

no no it's not random at all please don't apologize! a lot of writers and artists can't stress this enough but by leaving comments and just thoughtful pieces like this is really just a huge motivator boost and just encourages them more to continue what they want to do!

me included! so thank you 🍈 anon for liking what I put out!

I'm glad my writing can show the love I have for Jing yuan as a character tbh 🥹 it's always such a pleasure to hear from others that I can portray him true to his character in a romantic setting so I'm just LABDOAHODNALD whenever I get these specific comments

[gerbu]

I think my biggest pet peeve when it comes to media is period pieces about feminism that just have a ridiculous number of historical inaccuracies in what the characters are doing, saying, wearing, everything in general etc etc. Like why can't we have a movie about what an actual feminist in the 19th century would've been doing. Why do you have to add modern terminology and attitudes

[the-hidden-writer]

A Piece of True Fiction: Chapter 1

An Alan Wake 2 fic. Spoilers for Alan Wake 2!

Summary: Aleksi Kesä manages to slip out of the spiral and film he was trapped in.

Saga Anderson, caught in the middle of Wake's horror story, finds a man that looks identical to her partner in the middle of the woods. He's lost, confused, and only seems to speak Finnish. Saga has to try and uncover the truth as well as trying to save her family. Where did he come from? How did he get here?

And where's her Casey?

Chapter Summary: Saga arrives at the Elderwood Palace Lodge to find a bloodbath. No Chance from Saga's POV. Warnings: blood, guns, knives Words: 1,618 AO3 Link: [Here!] [Previous Part] [Next part]

A Piece of True Fiction

Chapter 1: Arrival

Saga pushes hard on the pedal as she speeds along the road, accompanied by nothing but the steady patter of rain on the windshield and flashes of light paired with distant gunshots.

She grits her teeth as worry thrums in her chest. Something big is clearly going on but she has no idea what it is or when it started, and she can’t exactly drive straight into the forest to find out. That leaves the lodge where she’d left Casey and Wake as her best destination. She needs to make sure Casey’s okay and not caught up in the fire, and she needs to get the Clicker to Wake to put a stop to all of this madness.

The journey felt like it took far longer than it should when she finally pulls up next to Elderwood Palace Lodge and doesn’t waste a second before she jumps out and runs inside…

…and comes to an abrupt halt.

Even if she hadn’t seen it, the tang of iron flavoring the air around her would have been enough to make her stomach flip. Blood is strewn everywhere. Walls, floor, ceiling- every nook and cranny it shouldn’t be able to reach. The corpses of the helpful staff decorate the once cozy space.

If Saga could see that there was even a chance of them being still alive, she would have stopped to help or examine them further. But no. It was recent, but they are unmistakably dead and it’s almost definitely their blood that’s painting the rooms a crimson that matches the sky outside. As much as she hates to leave them, she has more pressing matters.

Casey and Wake were in here, in this lodge-turned-slaughterhouse. She has to get to them before whatever did this found them, if it hadn’t already. 

No, it couldn’t have. She won’t let herself entertain the idea. She will not walk into this room and see her partner and the only man that can save her daughter, bloodied, torn apart and lifeless.

“Casey?” she calls, tentatively moving in.

All the air leaves her lungs in the sigh she lets out when that isn’t what she sees, but the relief doesn’t last long. Their field office has been completely upturned like the aftermath of an explosion. She notices streaks of blood sourced from dead cultists, but thankfully no sign of Casey or Wake, which means that they haven’t been brutally killed here like the others. Which also means that it's more likely that they’re involved in the gunfire outside.

She tries contacting Casey. No answer. It doesn’t even get through.

With one last quick sweep of the room, Saga maneuvers around the scattered furniture and bodies and hurries out of the lodge. The sun is setting fast and the red color of the sky is only deepening, as is her fear.

Once outside, she hears a cacophony of shouts mingling with the rain and dispersed shots. Focusing as best as she can with the adrenaline pumping through her system, she’s pretty sure she can make out Wake’s shouts amid the din. With no better lead, she follows his voice, gun and flashlight drawn.

She’s cautious as she moves through the forest, especially when the shouting and gunfire stops. The heavy rainfall is even more noticeable, and another loud thrum from above has joined it, but she stays focused on her surroundings in the hopes of finding Casey and Wake. Her search is fruitful since it isn’t long until she spots a familiar flannel-clad figure on the ground.

As well as the knife-wielding cultist hovering above him.

“FBI. Drop the knife.” She asserts loudly, pushing forward toward the two.

The cultist ignores her and raises the weapon in an attempt to stab, so Saga shoots it out of their hands. The action causes them to fall back in pain, mask flying off, leaving Saga to stare in disbelief at the identity of the culprit in front of her.

“Ilmo?”

Ilmo Koskela doesn’t react angrily to his cover being blown, nor does he make any attack against her. Instead, he tries to push himself up again.

Both his eyes and voice are filled with desperation, taking her aback. “Saga, you don’t understand-”

Whatever he was going to say is cut short as the two of them shield their eyes when a sudden rush of noise, light and people surrounds them, and she recognizes that thrum in the air too late. Helicopters, with searchlights pointed straight at them.

A new voice fills the air.

“FBC. Stay down.”

She briefly sees agents of some kind swarm in and enclose Wake and Ilmo, who slowly puts his hands up and looks just as confused as she feels. Some other agents walk in her direction, a suited lady appearing to take the lead.

The woman reaches her and gains her attention.

“Agent Anderson,” the lead agent greets, her nonchalant tone making Saga’s blood boil, “Agent Kiran Estevez, Federal Bureau of Control. We’ll take it from here.”

Saga blinks as she processes what’s happening. The Federal Bureau of Control is here? She’s pretty sure neither her nor Casey called for backup, so then why..?

“Wait,” she says aloud. “This is my case.”

“This is no longer an FBI investigation. The case has been transferred to us.” Agent Estevez replies, handing her a file that conveniently has enough official stamps and signatures on the front for her to confirm that she’s telling the truth without having to read it in-depth.

“What…” Saga skims the document one more time before handing it back in indignation. “This is bullshit!"

After everything she’d gone through in this case, this other bureau thought they could just swoop in and take over? Did they have any idea what they were dealing with?

“Noted.” Agent Estevez doesn’t bat an eye at her remark. “We’re moving the evidence and paperwork from your field office to our base of operations at the Sheriff’s Station.”

That part doesn’t worry Saga as much as it could, knowing that she already has the relevant information stored in her Mind Place and that the field office would have taken up precious time to try and salvage.

“Any other pieces of evidence with you, anything relevant?” Estevez continues.

Saga’s mind immediately flies to the Clicker. She can’t trust them with it, not after understanding its importance.

“Nothing comes to mind.” She lies, playing along.

No, the Clicker would stay with her until it was safely in Wake’s hands. Then he’ll fix everything and she will be able to close her case.

Luckily, Estevez accepts her answer. “Okay. Then your work here is done.”

Estevez has the audacity to shoot Saga a smile and a patronizing comment (“Hey, you did well.”) before turning to address her agents.

How dare she. How dare she treat this insane case like just another day at the office? How dare she take control of the case that was assigned to her and…

Casey.

He isn’t at the scene.

“Wait,” she calls out, causing Estevez to throw her an annoyed look but stopping nonetheless, “my partner Agent Casey’s MIA.”

Estevez just nods. “We’ll look for him.”

If Saga’s blood was boiling before, it’s practically on fire now. “He’s my partner, damn it! I should be-”

“Agent.” Estevez warns, interrupting her. “Go home.”

Estevez and her team move away, efficiently clearing the scene with Ilmo and an unconscious Alan Wake in tow, leaving Saga to stand there and watch as her case is dismantled in front of her eyes.

No, she thinks. Fuck this.

She was so close to getting the Clicker to Wake. She’s not done here, not until she finds Casey. Not until her family is safe from this horror story.

She has to carry on. She has no choice. This was personal.

As for how to carry on…

She takes a moment to go over the facts and her deductions in the Mind Place before deciding on a way forward. Officially, the case is out of her hands, but that doesn’t mean she can’t look to other avenues to continue her investigation. Tor and Odin were in the photo with the Clicker, maybe…

Saga’s train of thought slows to a stop.

It’s still raining.

A mundane observation that still catches her by surprise. Was she expecting it to stop? To be able to hear the distant birdsong and soft chirrups of bugs at dusk? 

She surprises herself even more when she realizes that the answer is yes. It feels as though the rain should have stopped by now, but she has no idea why and she can’t think of any evidence to back up her claim. She hadn’t checked the weather or paid close attention to the clouds.

The rain feels different, too. Heavier, with each droplet more defined, falling with purpose. Slightly salty too. Noticeably seawater.

At least she brought her windbreaker.

The distraction is enough to get her to rethink her options. Maybe going straight to Odin and Tor would be too hasty? There’s another major piece of information she’s just learned, and that’s Ilmo’s involvement in the cult. Would it be better to get to the bottom of that first? What doesn’t she understand, according to him?

There’s no harm in it, she decides, and finalizes her decision. She won’t take long because she’d only just explored Coffee World, except now she will investigate with the new angle of Ilmo as a cult member. And where does Jaakko fit into all of this? This could be vital information.

Pushing everything that just happened aside, Saga sets off back to Watery with a fresh determination. She’ll get the Clicker to Wake eventually, but first, Coffee World one more time.

Thanks for reading!

[eccleraprisma]

i remembered today how in the cult i was in there was this one guy so hellebent on proving other people who he felt were being too ‘unorthodox’ in the cult wrong that he starting citing a fictional ya novel like it was the new testament and looking back now that was hilarious and i laughed really hard about it today but also terrifying. im so glad i got out of there

[dreampearls]

oughhhhh

[the-busy-ghost]

Why, as a graduate of history who really should know better, am I always surprised when I finish a novel and go read some analysis of it only to end up saying, “Hang on, people think that character might have been an unreliable narrator???”

[evilromero]

i don’t miss secondary school and i would never sit my gcses again but i do sort of miss when you’d write a language piece and just lie

[magic-can]

I’m so glad true crime fans are being mocked regularly now. They deserve every ounce of it love and light <3

[longtimewish]

Love the album but it's been ten hours and I'm already getting tired of the discourse around it lol "it's about ***" "no it's about *****" SHUT UP it's about the 19th century royals and fictional book character I'm hyper fixated to

[linecoveredinjellyfish]

i'm founding a new school of media criticism which i've decided to call Bitism. the Bitist school of literary analysis asks a simple question: is this work committed to the bit?

you see, any work of fiction is either committed to the bit or it's not. the worst thing a piece of media can be is ashamed of its own premise, of the genre it in habits, of the tropes and aesthetics we expect from it. to be committed to the bit does not inherently make it good, but it makes it more worthy of respect than those which are not.

also, that's not to say that a story cannot parody or criticize the genre it inhabits or mimics. we can discuss the bit, we can deconstruct the bit, we can ask ourselves whether or not it's a good bit, but to commit to it first will strengthen these discussions, not detract from them. commitment to the bit is, after all, the first step to genuine sincerity. and sincerity will exalt and elevate parody such that it can stand on its own feet.

commitment to the bit turns melodrama into camp, elevates parody to biting commentary, and allows cringe to open up into a resonant, if unpolished, expression of true emotion.

fully expect bitism to take the literary world by storm sometime in the next few years.