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aeoki · 5 months

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Phantom Airship - So I Raced Through The Sky: Chapter 6

Location: Phantom Airship Characters: Izumi, Sora, Natsume, Tsumugi, Hiiro, Aira & Tatsumi

Natsume: “AlrigHT. You’ve now hopped aboard the airshIP, but where do you want to go neXT?”

Tatsumi: Aira-san is on “Science Island” and Mayoi-san is on “Monster Island” – it’s difficult to choose.

It doesn’t seem we’ll have the time to take a detour, so shall we head to the closest one?

Hiiro: Natsume-senpai, can you tell us which island is the closest?

Natsume: “I suppose that would be ‘Science IslaND.”

“But that island has a high standard of technology and it’s also quite saFE – it’s said to be a relatively low danger islaND.”

“If you wish to save your friend from danger, then it wouldn’t be a bad idea to head to ‘Monster Island’ first insteAD.”

Sora: “What do you think?”

Tsumugi: “Oh, you were helping Shiratori-kun before, right? Why did you return to the airship?”

“Did something unexpected happen?”

Sora: “Hmm~ Not exactly but it’s a somewhat troublesome situation?”

“Anyway, you’ll see once you get there! Will you follow Sora to save Ai-chan?”

Hiiro & Tatsumi: ……….?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ< Ten minutes later. “Science Island” – Research Room. >

Hiiro: …Is Aira really here?

Sora: “Yes. Ai-chan is sleeping somewhere in this research room.”

“And it’s highly likely that he won’t ever wake up at this rate~”

Hiiro: Hmm. That sounds bad. Just what on earth happened?

Sora: “The trial on this island is to give up on your greed.”

“Ai-chan was made an experiment target the moment he stepped foot on this ‘Science Island’.”

“Everything Ai-chan sees that happens on this ‘Science Island’ isn’t real.”

“As long as Ai-chan doesn’t want to stop that, he won’t be able to leave… that’s the trial.”

Tatsumi: I see. It’s difficult to understand that the imaginary world within the fake reality isn’t real with our senses.

In other words, all we need to do is to bring Aira-san back from the imaginary world, right?

Sora: “Yes! You two will enter Ai-chan’s world very soon!”

“Sora can’t see where Ai-chan is but every imaginary world is connected via the servers.”

“Please bring Ai-chan back to reality by going into that world~!”

Hiiro: Understood. Then, let’s go to that world right now.

There’s nothing better than feeling happy in a dream. But we must face reality so that we can continue dreaming and still be able to wake up from them.

We’re waiting in this world. Yeah, I need to tell Aira that.

Hiiro: This is the world Aira is in…? I can see a concert venue before me.

Tatsumi: Yes. Perhaps it’s the same one we stood on during the “SS” main battle.

Although, we had no idea we would be able to reach the “SS” venue by taking a bus in the real world.

There is evidence that this space is falsely similar to reality.

Where is Aira-san within this full house? If we’re to find him, it would be like trying to find a needle within a haystack.

Hiiro: Wait, Tatsumi-senpai. The idol that appeared on stage – is that Aira?

Tatsumi: That’s…!?

Aira: “Everyone~! Thanks for coming to see us perform today!”

“We hope you enjoy my performance with Izu-kun ♪”

(Woohoo ♪ This is great!)

(Is this heaven? Paradise? It’s so much fun to have things that won’t happen in real life happen here…☆)

Izumi: “Hey, what’re you doing in a daze? First up is your solo song, right, Ai-kun?”

“Leave it to after the performance to get emotional. You should be thinking about the fans first!”

Aira: Oh, right. Sorry, Izu-kun. I’m get focused!

“Umm, please listen to my solo song first!”

“♪~♪~♪”

Tatsumi: Aira-san is performing with Izumi-san…? Is this the world Aira-san wished for…?

Hiiro: Indeed, it appears so. I don’t know why Aira chose Sena-senpai.

But just like how the “Queen’s Island” was actually a boutique, maybe this imaginary world is also tied down by similar things.

Heeey, Aira! Can you see us?

If you can, then can you stop the concert and come over here?

Tatsumi: This world is not real! It’s dangerous if you don’t return to reality right away!

Aira: Oh, isn’t that Hiro-kun and Tattsun-senpai…? So they both came to “Science island”, huh ♪

This island is amazing! I can do whatever I want – Look how many people have come to see me perform ♪

Let’s perform together, Hiro-kun, Tattsun-senpai! I bet it’ll be so much fun…♪

Hiiro: It looks like Aira is completely absorbed in this world.

What should we do? To be honest, I’m a bit hesitant to bring Aira back to normal after seeing him having so much fun.

Tatsumi: But imaginary worlds must also have open seams.

Perhaps we can do something to tell Aira-san that this world is incomplete.

If we set up a place to talk, then I’m sure he will choose our reality.

We’ve gone through the highs and lows of life as “ALKALOID” – there must be a future awaiting us. That’s what I believe.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂ Next Chapter →

#phantom airship

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viaetor · 2 years

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@rikyos sent in a commission request... // BASED ON THIS. ❛ of course i’m here. where else would i be? ❜

ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ► 「ACCEPT」 ㅤ ㅤ 「DECLINE」

ㅤㅤit’s funny, what the wind brings and takes. the wind was mostly a gentle friend, a far too friendly presence in a wanderer’s life and what some more poetic minds would refer to as a ‘melody of almost-homes’. aether knew that. he loved feeling the breeze under his wings, not caring if it was made of oxygen, nitrogen, sulphur or something else; for zephyr’s might was still ever-present, a constant in the middle of uncertainties; propelling him forward no matter what. aether should love the wind. and in more than one way, he did. but he also hated it. not because the cold shiver woke him up in the middle of his rest, entering a forgotten opened window with cold droplets of a rainstorm, but for some things else.

ㅤㅤfor the wind also takes, and it does not apologise. especially when it’s in a tempest form. it took away his wings while he fell on teyvat’s unknown grounds. it took away his sister and any trace of her whereabouts. it took away his warmth in the middle of the night, reminding him that he was not as solar and powerful as he once held himself to be, even if he tried to keep his back straight and chin up. but he knew the truth. the saddening, sickening truth of teyvat, its people and its rules—divinity meant little and mortality was a frail line to walk. so, the wind did the bidding in the mist. it took away people’s last breath, guiding them to the other side indiscriminately—soldier or god, since they all eventually face the very same fate one day, even if separated by a couple of millennia. it took away dreams and hopes from the people in inazuma, forcing them to stare at the mightiest cruelty for believers, a bitter goddess blinded by her thunder. it brought bloodshed and its scent, dissipating them not even in rain, replaying the last month’s losses like a broken theatre. a necessary aide-memoire to what war tasted like. the wind is kind, that it was, but like a good lover, it’s far too honest sometimes about reality’s pains for any heart to bear alone.

ㅤㅤaether was tired, exhausted, and not all physically, which made it all worse. he knew he was growing too fond of the people in this world, getting too entangled in their problems and disputes. after the battle against the shogun’s forces and the rebels of watatsumi island, that much was clear. he saw fighters he had befriended hours prior fall on the battlefield, shouts of life and death echoed through his ears even now when he was safe and sound in the crux’s cabins. every crash of waves against the wooden shell is a reminder of wind and mortality. he closed his eyes, and perhaps if his head wasn’t hurting so much, or if it wasn’t so quiet in the ship, crystal-like tears would overflow from his throat. so, instead of crying, he dryly called out for one of the only familiar faces in the middle of the tempest.

ㅤㅤkazuha? kazuha, are you there…? you didn’t leave, right? the blond one wasn’t talking about the other getting out of the ship when no one else was looking. on his bedsheets, the traveller turned to look for those scarlet eyes. they looked like the summer breeze of that season. oh, so gentle. oh, what cruelty. aether could swear that his companion frowned, adjusting himself to move forward, just enough for them to tell when they exhaled or inhaled. of course i’m here. where else would i be? eloquent words for an eloquent samurai. the tiniest smile grew on golden face.

ㅤㅤ“ i guess you didn’t go wandering off in the middle of the night. ” it should come off as a tease, but the nervousness on heavy voice did not allow it. he didn’t disappear; that was a genuine relief. he wasn’t taken away by the wind, by the storm, by god’s greed, or by anything else. he was still there, right next to him. but for how long? “beidou would give you an earful if you did.” aether breathed in, trying to calm himself. “will you…” he swallowed the tears, coughing as a consequence. he was an immortal deity of countless years. this shouldn’t affect him as much as it did. alas, here they were. powerlessness can drive even the oldest divines crazy, it seemed. never before had his heart felt so human. so, he closed his eyes. “will you fight with us?” what a selfish request that was, especially when aether knew why the other one had left. even if his heart ached knowingly, he did not take back that request. after a moment of silence, he bit down his bottom lip. he wanted to believe the wind brought him a friend that could stay a little longer. no more losing people. not now. not now... “ i need... you so i can be brave enough. ” to brave the lighting’s glow.

#rikyos #i finished inazuma a while ago #u know the battle between gorou and sara?? right after aether's duel against raiden ?#and then beidou and kazuha show up so they Win but things were looking dire back then #and then teppei dies right after :'''''')#yep this is here!!#kazuha is the one he considers himself closest too; a familiar face amongst strangers; a friend #and so he's realising he can Lose Him Too #aether 'fuck i forgot mortals can *die' solar deity #❛ㅤ𓆩✦𓆪ㅤ:ㅤver i﹔ㅤㅤ/ㅤㅤof teyvat and lost wings.

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whirlybirdwhat · 3 years

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If you still do promts? How about Law getting a minor (big scare) relapse of His Amber lead problem?

I do!!!! Hope you enjoy <333

a mark of (not-quite) death

read on ao3!

Law wakes up aching.

There is a throbbing in his back, a drum of pain running up his fingers, a blurriness in the back of his head that he can’t quite name, and a weakness that shakes in his limbs as he pushes himself upward.

He doesn’t want to open his eyes. The dull light of his sub – the soft humming of the machines – it’s all already too much. He wants to go back to sleep.

Instinct tells him doing so will be his death –

Wait.

Law’s eyes flash open as his entire body starts shaking.

He hasn’t… hasn’t felt this way since he was 13 and running with Cora. He –

God.

No.

(Litanies of prayers flash through his mind, the same the nuns like to whisper over the children as they laid dying in bed. The lights of the hospital, the screams of agony, the white creeping up up up – his father shaking as he attached IV lines to his sister, the blood pooling on the streets –

No-)

It can’t be. Law got rid of it. He was the survivor. The only survivor, because of his thrice damned fruit.

His eyes look down, to where his hands are clenching the bunk he collapsed in late last night (after feeling off all day god he was a fool-), to where –

White splotches against tanned skin, spreading and rising in irregular shapes.

A relapse.

A relapse of Amber Lead Disease.

Law wants to laugh.

(Laugh, in the kind of laugh those who are about to die have. Laugh, not in the way of the indomitable D, but in the kind of way a sailor laughs in the face of a raging storm that he will not survive. Laugh, in the way that fools cry.)

Who knew it was possible?

Tears well up in his eyes as laughter chokes out past the tightening in his chest. He couldn’t die. Not yet.

Not when Doflamingo still lived.

His chest is getting tighter as he raises a shaky white splotched hand to his face, feeling the wetness there. His skin is rough, raised, god it already spread to his face?

He is going to die.

(Everything hurts.)

The world is going blurry at the edges, darkness creeping in, every limb aching and – Oh.

A sliver of thought breaks through the memories of pain and death and terror.

He needs to breathe.

Law takes a shuddering breath, pressing against his chest as if that would make his lungs work past the blinding panic in his mind.

It helps.

He takes another.

It helps more.

Another, and another, and another, until he is lying back in his too small bunk and looking up at the flickering lights.

Fuck, he thinks.

Fuck.

His eyes slip shut past the instinct ingrained in him from his days with Cora, and finally, finally, he falls back to a restless sleep.

Untellable time has passed when he finally drags himself out of bed, legs shaking beneath his weight. Kikoku is a helpful walking stick, his jeans an unhelpful hindrance, and his feet barefoot against the deck.

Bending down had hurt too much to put them on.

He makes his way, slowly, to the kitchen where most of the off-duty crew is, their chatter rising above the hum of engines and the lurching power of the sea.

Bepo –

Bepo is there.

Thank fuck.

He stumbles in and makes a bee-line towards his first mate, ignoring the cries of his crew (idiots – who told them they could care so much about him?) as he finally arrives in front of Bepo, shaking.

Bepo stares. “Captain?” His voice is soft.

Worried.

(The way it is after nightmares shake Law awake and all he can hear is the laughter of a mad tyrant echoing in his mind.)

Law stares back and carefully, carefully, slumps into Bepo’s arms.

(By the shouts of his crew, it’s not so carefully. It’s more the last legs of a starving man giving out.)

“Captain!” Bepo says, less questioning and more panicked and worried this time.

Law just shoves his face into his jacket and mumbles “I’m fine Bepo.” Half the words don’t make it out but it’s fine.

He’s fine.

Law is… Law is fine.

Shachi echoes from his right. “You don’t look fine captain.”

“Yeah!” Penguin chimes in. “You look like death warmed over.”

(He’s not fine)

Law shudders, and shakes his head. “I feel it,” He mutters, uncharacteristically open, and then moves on as Bepo lowers them bother down to the bench. “It’ll… It’ll pass. Just need to operate, that’s all.”

He can’t see it with his face shoved into Bepo’s warmth but he just knows everyone is sharing glances over his head. Especially Shachi and Penguin and Bepo. They knew him… they knew him when he just got over Amber Lead, operating out of his skin with cries of pain and little control over his devil fruit….

And little choice to not do it.

It’s always like this out at sea – out on open waters with a black flag overhead, or the intention to be one. Life or death.

Life or death.

(For so long, Law has intended to die.)

He sighs, further, as they finally sit down, the ache in his legs easing as Bepo allows him to slump into his side. A hot mug is shoved into his hands and lifted to his lips, shakily.

Coffee.

Sweet, just how he secretly likes it. Ikkaku then, the only person who knows how to get it just right, helping him drink.

(His eyes feel so heavy.)

There’s murmuring around him. Law closes it out, to focus on how the jumpsuit is soft on his raised and rash-ridden skin.

Someone moves Kikoku away from him, and he doesn’t move an inch. The worried voices pick up again.

Soon, someone shakes him.

“Captain.”

He’s so tired.

“Captain.”

This is, essentially, the second worst thing that could possibly happen to him. The first being Doflamingo dies before Law can spit in his face and say Fuck You.

“Captain!”

He should have just operated in his room. Why didn’t he do that?

“Law!”

Oh.

He’s a captain now.

That’s him.

He pushes himself off Bepo, and blinks wearily at his crew.

“Yeah – Yes?” He tries to pour irritation into his voice, but honestly – they are a crew, no matter how often he holds them at arms lengths. They know he’s not as prickly as he seems. They have seen him half drowned, drunk out of his mind, and on fifteen to many cups of Shachi’s special coffee.

They can see him sick.

(He’s so tired.)

Penguin peers into his face, his hat tipped up so that he can meet Law’s eyes clearly with his own. “What operation?”

The words come out of him slurred and tired.

“Amber Lead,” He says, and doesn’t miss how Clione in the corner takes a step back. “It’s… not contagious…” He slumps further into Bepo. “That was all a government ruse.”

Most of them are from the North Blue. Most of them have heard the stories – of Flevance, and how it burned to the ground, how its people were exterminated, how its people were contagious and it was good for the world that their disease wasn’t spread.

Most of his crew, however, don’t know that he’s the last survivor.

A hand drifts over his cheek, tapping gently on the raised, white skin, and Law is drawn back into reality.

“’M from Flevance. Last survivor. My fruit… my fruit cured me. Had to operate.” He says, dimly remembering it. “Now its back. Gotta….” His mother would be ashamed of how his voice was drooping. Slurring. There was a patient he had to tend to. Wait. He was the patient. He was so tired and even the coffee wasn’t helping. “Operate again.”

Dimly, he remembers how he wasn’t allowed to see the adults who had Amber Lead. They were always worse off than the children once the disease reached its peak. The body, too old to defend itself. The mind, old enough to understand eminent death. To understand that you were leaving everyone behind, because of an unavoidable fate, because you were born of Flevance and its greed.

Now, Law is aching as he did when he was a child in the last stages of the disease, and he feels… distant and all too close to the fact all at once. He’s tired, but he has survived this before.

Before, he was alone.

Now, he has a crew.

(And a dream, as horrible and revenge driven as it is, to kill the one who took everything else from him.)

A crew that is slowly pulling him out of his despair and into open arms.

Bepo is muttering with Shachi and Penguin, something about how did it set in so fast? And Island conditions? And large concentrations of ore and ocean depths and battles? But all of it is fading distantly.

A hand taps his cheek and pulls the cup from his hands. He tries to follow it, but he is quickly trapped by a large, fluffy orange arm.

“Sleep, Captain.” That’s Clione, stepping closer now. “You can operate when you’re coherent.”

He wants to snap at them, snap at all of them, that he’s a man and doesn’t need to be babied, he’s done this before and he’ll do it again, and he’s a trained doctor –

(Who trained all of them-)

-so he can decide when he needs to sleep but –

Bepo’s arm is soft. Comforting. Familiar.

(He tried to find Cora’s coat after he was killed. He couldn’t. He missed the warmth of smoky black faux feathers. He had no comfort then, when he was digging into his skin with shaky powers and a stolen knife.)

Law falls to sleep, surrounded by crew, and hopes he’ll wake to see morning light.

There is none when he wakes. Instead, there is a heavy pressure on his right, crushing him, almost gently, against a large, soft, bodily shaped lump.

For a moment, with the shaking in his limbs, Law thinks he is in Flevance again, hiding amongst the bodies of his dead neighbors and friends to get a chance at life.

His heart races, before Bepo lets out a familiar snore and Shachi slaps at his cheeks.

Ah.

He’s not in Flevance.

He’s home.

(Usually, he would correct himself and say The Polar Tang. Not today. Today he is tired.)

He looks across the room. They are still in the kitchen, the crew merely moving around him instead of moving him, the idiots. The lights are dimmed, and it seems to be only Bepo and Shachi in the room. A blanket is pulled around him, and his sword leaned against the wall.

He gives a sigh. Someone had even grabbed his hat for him.

(He wants his hat. His father had given it to him. He wants his hat.)

His eyes drift, still tired, but the aching in his limbs has abated for now. It’s time to move, before he’s lost again in pain and memories.

Law pushes at Bepo and Shachi, shoving both off of him in a spur of strength, before standing up.

“Captain!” Bepo cries happily, undeterred from his harsh wake up. On the ground, Shachi rubs his head but doesn’t complain. “You’re awake! Is your head better? Is your body better? Are you okay? Do you need water? Food? Wait maybe don’t’- “

The world spins as Law stands up, but he still manages to grit out a “Bepo!” that shuts the bear up quick. He feels bad for it, but at least the questions are stopped.

“Help me to the operating room.”

Shachi gives him a look even as Law refuses to wait for them to help him across the room to grab his sword. “Are you sure you’re ready to operate?”

Law gives him a look as he grips Kikoku, Bepo helping up his other arm. “If I don’t operate now, I won’t be able to later. If I don’t operate later, I’m going to fucking die.” The clarity in this threat and his voice seems to stir Shachi into opening the doors for them to go through, Law’s feet getting heavier with every step.

“Amber Lead, huh?” Shachi questions quietly.

Law lets out a breath. “Yeah.”

“That’s what you were recovering from when we first met, right? With the white splotches?”

“Yeah.”

“They’re back now.”

“Yeah.”

“I thought they were gone forever.”

Law sighs again. “Me too,” he says, and that’s the end of the conversation. It’s silent then, as they pad through the ship to the operating room. The rest of the crew must know by now, because they don’t question it when Law limps quietly throughout the sub. They only nod, and give him worried looks.

His crew is a crew of fools.

(He wouldn’t trade them for the world.)

The operating room is already open when Law arrives.

(He can barely stand. His legs ache. He bets if he rolled up his pants, his legs would be near entirely white, the disease setting in quick. He hates this. He hates this.)

“Captain!” Penguin cheers from the corner where he is cleaning Law’s favorite sets of scalpels and has a chair set up. “Everything’s ready for when you need it! Didn’t know what exactly you needed, so I got everything that seemed reasonable.”

A part of Law softens at that, though his face hurts to twitch into smile. “Thank you, Peng,” He says, quiet, and with Bepo’s help eases himself into a chair. He sighs and gestures for the tray scalpels Penguin rolls over.

He’s practiced this kind of removal before, on albeit unwilling patients. They were thankful after, but never quite liked it when Law opened them up.

They felt no pain, thanks to the Ope-Ope fruits natural anesthetics, but removing things buried into your skin by what appears to be magical scalpels is never fun.

(It was funny to Law. He was always sadistic like that.)

He picks up a scalpel, gestures for his crew to back away, and then says, very carefully, “Room.”

His crew stares, but then the pieces come together when his eyes lock on Bepo and he says “Shambles.”

In an instant, his head is switched with the air above Bepo’s palms.

Bepo screams, only a bit, but it gives Law the perspective he needs to make this surgery.

His body is trembling before him, Law already feeling the strain from using his devil fruit. Splotches run up his arms from where his sleeves are rolled up, the hoodie dipping just a bit to reveal the splotches on his neck as well. When Law glances into the mirror on the tray, he pauses, for just a moment.

The spots make him seem… hollow. As if he were only a frame of the person he wanted to be. They fill his cheeks and nose, distorting over his forehead, like a skeleton made of flesh and empty spaces.

He looks tired.

(He always looks tired.)

He looks like death.

(A part of him laughs at that. The Surgeon of Death, looking like death warmed over? Irony at its finest.)

He blinks his eyes closed and opens them quickly. If he doesn’t act soon, he’ll be death.

He watches his arms lift in front of him, and mutters “Scan.”

His body lights up in shades of vibrant blue, making his spots glow where they are raised above the skin. Law looks closer, his fingers twirling in the air, till it is as if he can see the innermost parts of his body.

There.

The core of all his trouble, nestled right next to his lungs. A part of the Amber Lead he missed when he didn’t know that Scan was an ability he had with his fruit. A part that grew and grew and grew, and seemed to have been suddenly exacerbated by the climate of the Grand Line.

The only surprising part is that it took till now for it happen.

“Peng. Shach.” He says, straining, speaking odd when your mouth is in one area of the room and your voice box in another. “Get the infectious substance containers.”

Penguin looks alarmed. “Thought you said it wasn’t contagious?”

“Yes.” He responds. “It isn’t. But it is toxic, and this is the closest containment system we have. Get it.”

Penguin gives a snappy salute, and then he and Shachi are running out the door, leaving Bepo and Law’s disembodied head, and his body in the room.

Law sighs, neck leaning back so his head rests on Bepo’s chest. To Bepo’s merit, he only shifts his hold on Law.

A moment, and Bepo shifts his grip again so that one paw is patting Law’s head. IF his body were not so weak he would have strangled Bepo.

(It feels nice. He won’t let him know that.)

“Bepo.” He growls.

“Sorry!” Bepo yelps, but doesn’t stop dragging his fingers through Law’s hair, gentle and calm.

Law doesn’t scold him again, and instead fights the urge to sink into sleep by examining his body further.

His chest tightens when he realizes how much it had spread – all because Law didn’t bother to check up his body earlier. God.

He would have died if he didn’t have his fruit.

If Cora hadn’t…

The operating room door slamming open distracts him from his thoughts.

“We got it!” Shachi and Penguin cheer, rolling over two large glass and plastic and metal containers.

(Law new the destructions of diseases. He filched the best containment for his own ship.

Like hell he would let Flevance happen again.)

Law nods the best he can without a body, and across the room, his body raises its arms.

“Scan,” He says, one more time to be sure. When it all lights up again, he closes his eyes and breathes out.

One second.

Two.

He breathes in, and opens his eyes.

“Room,” He says, and the operating room becomes his. His eyes flash to the air inside the empty cases and –

“Shambles.”

The blue disappears from his eyes, from his body, from his face, the aches disappearing, in a snap from his skin, and into the containers already sealed shut. His fingers twitch, another muttered Shambles, and his head is securely on his body.

The world blurs in front of him.

Fuck.

He’s so tired.

So, so tired.

He lays back, melting against the chair, and doesn’t protest as Bepo lifts him up.

“You’re alright captain. You’re alright.”

As his hat is placed on his head, white splotches slowly fading from his hands in itchy waves, he honestly thinks he might be.

His eyes shut and to worried murmurs, he falls unconscious, operation over.

(His parents would be ashamed of how he didn’t check to make sure the patient was recovering right.

Wait.

He’s the patient.

Fuck.)

Law wakes without aching, without wanting to laugh, Bepo wrapped around him again and his favorite food on a tray beside him. When he looks in the mirror, only two splotches of white remain near his eyes, fading as he watches. Someone has washed his hair and scrubbed the other flakes of white on cheeks away with tender care, and a blanket is wrapped carefully around him. This time, Law doesn’t panic. This time, Law goes to goes back to sleep on purpose, smile gracing his features.

His crew is a crew of fools but fuck, if Law doesn’t love them. They keep him alive.

Law won’t die now.

Not yet.

And not from his past.

#whirlyanswers #Anonymous #trafalgar law #trafalgar d. water law #law #corazon #donquixote rocinante #rocinante #bepo #shachi #penguin one piece #op #one piece #whirlywrites #whirlywhat #opfic #sickfic #uhhh enjoy!!!!#disappears again

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abeautifuldayfortea · 3 years

Text

Visions of Aman

Summary: The death of Aragorn, the final parting of friends, the reunion of Legolas and Gimli and the passing of the Sindar colony of Ithilien into the west. Written from Legolas’ perspective.

A/N: I chose this particular period in time because I wanted to explore more in depth the reasons why Legolas decided to leave Middle Earth as soon as he learns of Aragorn’s death as it is only fleetingly mentioned in the appendices. This took way too long and I am still far from satisfied with it. I spent two nights trying to decide what the tombs and the burial arrangements would be like (whether the bodies would be set in enclosed tombs or not (and then gave up after going nowhere)). Still, I hope you will enjoy reading it :), I am also very thankful to those readers who were kind enough to leave likes or comments or reblogs on my last fic and to those who didn’t as well, you all make my day, I love reading your comments and reblog tags!

Words: 1379

‘Look!’ he cried. ‘Gulls! They are flying far inland. A wonder they are to me and a trouble to my heart. Never in all my life had I met them, until we came to Pelargir, and there I heard them crying in the air as we rode to the battle of the ships. Then I stood still, forgetting war in Middle-earth; for their wailing voices spoke to me of the Sea. The Sea! Alas! I have not yet beheld it. But deep in the hearts of all my kindred lies the sea-longing, which it is perilous to stir. Alas! for the gulls. No peace shall I have again under beech or under elm.’

‘Say not so!’ said Gimli. ‘There are countless things still to see in Middle-earth, and great works to do. But if all the fair folk take to the Havens, it will be a duller world for those who are doomed to stay.’

‘Dull and dreary indeed!’ said Merry: ‘You must not go to the Havens, Legolas. There will always be some folk, big or little, and even a few wise dwarves like Gimli, who need you. At least I hope so. Though I feel somehow that the worst of this war is still to come. How I wish it was all over, and well over!’

~ Chapter 9 Book 5, Lord of the Rings

There were now no folk, big or little that needed him now. The vision had come to him unbidden as he lay dreaming, wide eyed, gazing up into the many stars of Varda and walked among the strange paths in a place between the gaps of the waking world known only to elves.

Painted within his mind, he saw unbeknownst to him the Hallows of Minas Tirith and within its watchful darkness, three figures arranged abreast upon a great slab of marble each in a peaceful slumber, hands folded atop their chests and garbed in pale raiment. Upon the left he discerned the form of Merry and upon the right lay Pippin, their hair white and their faces lined with the wrinkles of laughter lines and between them, Aragorn, son of Arathorn. At his feet lay folded the standard of Elendil, its seven stars set with gems catching the thin light that filtered in through the barred panels of the mausoleum and flickering with a pale faintness like the slow extinguishing of lamps in the pale dawn.

Legolas reached out with his mind, but he could not find the fëa of the three that lay before him and as his fingers reached out to wake them, he felt no warmth, no gentle stirring of the breath. There was no doubt now, the king had passed out of the world, shepherded to the Halls of Mandos and beyond into an afterlife where he would never follow.

He felt the consuming emptiness of sorrow stir within him like the stoking of an icy fire, leaving him cold and shaking again at the loss of not one but three of his dearest friends. As he turned over onto his side, emerging from his rest he dreamt no more of the fair mallorn trees of Lothlórien in golden autumn nor of the last strongholds of Fangorn in eternal spring or the brilliant halls of Thranduil in their glory before they were diminished. A shadow had fallen on his heart and from afar, the white city itself was shrouded in a suffocating grey mist.

And looking to the west towards the White City of Gondor from his bower in Ithilien he began to sing, weaving the tapestry of stories and the great deeds of his friends in a song that leapt, soaring like the great Eagles in its most glorious retellings and fell tinkling into the deep wells of lamentation. The last of his kin who heard his song quietly removed themselves from their dwellings and were themselves so moved and enamoured that they were said to be brought perforce to mourn for them, although they did not know them. To the ears of Men also the lament came, Aragorn’s people who understood not the winding language of the Sindar but upon listening grovelled and wept, for it awakened the truth within them and none were surprised when they received the black news of his passing the following day.

At the last note, Legolas faltered and verily, he knew the time had come for him to heed at last the haunting cry of the gulls and cross the great western sea.

For three years, he gathered his kindred and together they crafted a mighty ship by the shores of Ithilien, crested by a swan’s head set with silver at the bow. The men of Ithilien looked ever on in awe for they had never seen any ship fairer and the make of it, from its rope and canvas – light and iridescent - to the delicately carved oars in the shape of freshly fallen leaves, were of elvish design and its graceful curves and finish were beyond the work of any man.

As the time grew near to its completion, Legolas sought Gimli at the Glittering Caves, and bade him come with him over the sea and into the west for he could not bear for his closest friend and final living reminder of his time on Middle Earth to be left behind. Just as the Caves themselves had been slowly carved by the dwarrow to reveal its hidden beauty, time had tempered Gimli and although the furnace within his eyes still burned with the ferocity of determination, he looked to be in the winter of his days. His hair was more white than brown and was no longer as spry as he had been in his youthful days sprinting across the fields of Rohan. It was not so difficult to glean a smile from him now for though he had once been grim, the days of the War had been left behind and his people flourished in the new colony under his guidance. All was well and the world seemed all the brighter with Legolas by his side. That night a great feast was set and Legolas was given a place beside Gimli at the high table and much honoured by his hosts.

He laughed and joked that Legolas had found himself more drawn to the underground than any elf there had been before him, his merriment bounding off the stars of the Earth embedded in the vaulted ceiling glimmering and iridescent. Looking high above his head to admire the work of Gimli he was reminded of the seven stars of Elendil, flickering at the feet of Aragorn and he shivered, his quip evaporating on his tongue. The cavern seemed all at once too large and despite the blazing torches, he felt cold and small.

“Gimli, my course is set for the shores of Aman. I walked in my dreams with the music of the waters cradling me, I felt the gentle rocking of a ship beneath my feet and a chorus of voices in the sea winds calling me. Will you sail with me? For there is more that I wish for you and I to see together, fairer than all the gems and treasures of the earth and deeper than the wisdom and thriving loveliness of any wood, so it is told. In such waking sleep the Lady of the Galadhrim came to me and she obtained grace for you to be received in the Blessed Realm even before I knew my own thought.”

Gimli was silent. His dark eyes hardened and he thought long for it was a hard choice to make. He loved the plunging valleys and cutting peaks of Aulë and in his dreams he gazed into the calm waters of the Mirrormere and wandered far underground discovering new places and minerals beyond comprehension, each more delightful than the last as he delved deeper into the very bones of the earth. No greed hid within his heart for he wished only to see the beautiful and learn from the fair. Yet he knew he was ever waning and growing closer to death as the timeless years marched on and if he did not go now, then he would be withdrawn without a choice to Aman by Aulë himself. Either way, his time was drawing thin and he wanted more than ever his friend by his side to ease his passing.

And he agreed, if only to gaze upon the exquisiteness of Galadriel again, to see Valinor in all its glory and to find anew things that lay beyond his wildest imaginings in that far island. His mind was set. Legolas was himself content and relieved for the dwarrow were a stubborn people and he knew that Gimli beheld things in a much different light than he did.

Together, they crossed the rolling plains to Ithilien borne by swift feet of horses to see the grand ship finished and sea ready. And together again, they would sail down the River Anduin on the pale dawn on the third year of the passing of Aragorn, leaving behind them the land of their forefathers, Middle Earth that they were born and raised in.

It is said by the men who watched on that day that not one of the travellers heading toward the distant shores of Aman ever looked back, only onwards to where their final journey would take them...

And some who looked closely would have seen that among the host of elves on the ship stood an elderly dwarf beside his friend at the bow.

#argorn #elessar #legolas #lotr elves #gimli son of gloin #gimli #lotr #lotr fanfic #ithilien #valinor #aman #galadriel #lotr dwarves #dwarves #mirkwood elves #gondor #glittering caves #gigolas

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aly-kurta · 3 years

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I wanted to do this since a long time .... I'll upload infos about my HxH oc!

Friendly reminder that I'll lovely accept advices and constructive criticism! Just do not spread random hate. <3 Creating characters should be fun, not something people should insult each other for!

CW: mentions of violence and family loss.

Imagine having a serious oc but the only decent drawing you have is one where they are embarassed.

Okay, let's start this.

BIOLOGICAL INFO

Name: Lewis

Meaning of name: "Illustrious warrior"

Gender: Female

Age: 18 years old

Date of Birth: 27th January (Aquarius vibes biatch)

Place of Birth: Lukso, Kurta clan (don't worry there's a reason for her survival)

Height: 1,57 cm

Weight: 51 kg

Blood type: 0-

Hair: wavy and dark brown. Shorter behind and longer on the sides.

Eyes: brown. her eye shape is sharp, giving her almost all the time a judging and serious look.

Skin: pale, there are a few white scars on her body due some fights.

Body: thanks to the training her father made her pass throught in order to be capable to protect herself, Lewis has an athletic and kind of muscular body. Sometimes it's difficult for her to keep up fighting and training due an illness concerning her legs' bones.

OCCUPATION + PERSONALITY + CLOTHES

Occupation: Blacklist hunter. She's willing to accept assignments from wealthy families (for example, Nostrade's family), but the quest, in order to be accepted, can not surpass boundaries set up by Lewis herself.

Personality: at first glance, Lewis can come off as a sarcastic but overall serious and cold brat. Due her being cautious, random friends and chit chats are a big "no", she will low her standars if the she finds someone intersting and cultured. In fact, for her, culture and intelligence count more than everything else. Her realistic, harsh irony and coldness may soften if someone forms a strong bond with her (but if you think they will be safe from her scarcasm, oh boy, you're so wrong). Slowly, her enthusiastic and curious side will come off. Small warning: joke about her height and you'll get lovely beaten up.

Likes: books, learning, smart people, cats, traveling, fighting.

Hates: ignorant people, loud noises, seeing children and innocent people suffer, killing without any particular reason.

Clothes: total black style, so it's easier for her to not be seen in the dark and during the night. She wears a sleeveless jumper, with shorts and high boots. She also wears her father's gloves in his memory and a neckacle with a blue pendant in hyaline quartz.

NEN AND FIGHTING SKILLS

Nen type: transmuter. Her hatsu consists in transmuting her aura in heat, elevating the temperature until the creation of flames ( red flames are the "weakest", the strongest one are blue -purple flames, said to reach 1400 degrees on the Celsius scale). In order to protect herself from the flames, she wraps a little bit of aura around herself, but sometimes her skin gets burnt from her hatsu, thats why she counts more on a "speed" strategy more than a "strenght" one.

When her scarlet eyes are active, she become a Specialist (I deduced every Kurta does and not just Kurapika, since the scarlet eyes are a really particular thing, what do you guys think?). When in this state, her flames and explosione created by them are way more intense and her aura gets wider. But obviously she has an harsh condition: in order to use it she has to use her own body as fuel (so that's why she has to eat regularly, not allowed to be weak).

When the scarlet eyes aren't active, her nen uses her energy and, when in En, external resources in an area of 9 meters as fuel (so if you feel yourself or the air around you becoming cold, you better keep constant distance from her).

Fighting style (hand-to-hand): her father trained her to muay thai.

TRIVIA

Her father taught her how to play the violin, but she does it rarely due painful memories;

She admires Gon's desire to meet his father because she understand that feeling, she would do anything to meet her mother or remember more and more about her;

She is inspired to Lewis Carroll, the writer of "Alice in Wonderland". Why? Originally she was a BSD and Carroll is my favourite writer together with Tolkien;

She often scolds Kurapika because he is careless about himself;

Lewis has met Hisoka before. She was in search for money and ended up fighting with him.

Why did I make her a Kurta? Six years ago, when I created her (and I didn't watch HxH) I added this thing about her eyes having a red hue when angry due her ability. Then I watched HxH and was like "wtf Lewis";

The meaning behind the name "Lewis" helped me defining her personality;

I lowkey ship her with Kurapika because of their personalities becoming even more complex when together. Their story is a whole mess because they believe that by becoming a couple, they'd just destroy each other.

BACKSTORY

Lewis was born in Lukso, along with her beloved twin brother. Her family was watched with doubt and oddity by the other members of her clan due both her parents being Hunters.

Her mother, a Virus Hunter, passed away when Lewis and her brother were five years old, so their father, a Blacklist Hunter, took the responsibility to teach them about self-defense, the outside world and to always have a goal in life. So the twins grew up knowing how to fight and the desire of making their life complete.

After her 13th birthday, Lewis decided to take the Hunter Exam (because she wanted it? Well yes, but she also aimed at making her father proud). Succeding the exam to exit the clan and greeting her people, she started her journey to get her Hunter License.

Once she got the license, after a long road, Lewis was ready to return to her forest with pride and victorious and show her clan what she was worth. So you can imagine how she felt when during her return trip she heard about the slaughter of the "demonic Kurta clan".

So pained that she couldn't even manage to return to her home, Lewis strayed for two years and half on the streets, living off the duties of a Blacklist Hunter, and then affording a decent house in Yorknew city.

What do I do now, she asked herself. Her desire to make the Troupe pay for their genocide marched together with her will to follow her father and her brother's desire: help the weake, live life to the fullest and become the best version of your soul.

That's how Lewis lives, the grief and rage battling against the desire to go on and live for herself. What will win this fight?

YORKNEW ARK

So time passes on and Lewis decides to try and get the eyes of her clan that will be exposed to the Auction.

How can she achieve this little goal? Of course she had money, but not that much to afford her purchase.

That's how she ended up meeting two little boys who came there for a videogame called "Greed Island" and a man. Their names were Killua, Gon and Leorio.

Lewis' first plan was just to do something similar to a business contract, you help me and I help you. But her planning mind didn't take in consideration the fact that this move would have changed her life.

When she told the three boys what she wanted to buy at the Auction, the group immediatly looked at each other, asking her what she found amusing about a pair of eyes took away from some innocent person.

"Let's call it... personal interest" she answered. Her vague response ringed a bell on Killua's mind, making him thinking she was a member of the infamous Phantom Troupe.

Gon, Killua and Leorio immediatly came up with a plan to make that misterious girl confess her identity and show them her spider tatoo. The plan was perfect and the three of them, after a week, cornered Lewis, ready to attack.

Little did they know about her being sligthly annoyed by this "betrayal".

Leorio's jaw almost dropped to the floor when Lewis' scarlet eyes came out instinctively. The kurta quickly hid her face but it was too late.

Gon was confused because... how did she survive the massacre?

Killua meditated if it was the case to rush and call Kurapika. Or was it a trick to prove false innocence?

With lots of sighs and sarcastic jokes like "yeah I'm the boss of that shitty Troupe, wanna come at our Christmas dinner this year?", the girls sat down and waited for that Kurapika everyone was talking about. It would have been better to kill the three boys and escape but she couldn't push herself to see life escaping Gon and Killua's eyes. They were kids and they didn't hurt her in any way yet... and the way their eyes shone, specially Gon's ones.

And so, she waited until a blonde boy stormed into the room in a rush.

What was even happening? Who was he? These question made her head fuzzy from all the thinking.

"You have scarlet eyes, don't you?" the boy approached her.

"And what if I do?" Lewis coldly looked at Kurapika.

Gon pointed out at Killua how the temperature lowered in the room.

"Show me your eyes" Kurapika said with a commanding tone.

"Don't play with fire, boy, or you'll get burnt"

Leorio interrupted the two of them: "he's a Kurta too don't worry!"

Kurapika scolded Leorio with an angry look just before realizing what he meant.

"Another... survivor?" he looked at Lewis "no it isn't possible..."

The two of them were shocked and couldn't even process the deed. They weren't alone?

"Let me use the Dowsing Chain on her, so I can state that it's the truth and not a mischevious trick.

Still shocked and confused, all of them made sure about the truth: Lewis was in fact a Kurta.

How will this twisted story reach its end? Lewis will decide to help Kurapika retrieve their clan's eyes. Will their opposite lifestyles and dreams go well together? Will Lewis succed to reach the "better version of her soul" and help Kurapika do so? Or maybe they'll both drown in the abyss of loneliness and self sacrifice?

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yodawgiherd · 3 years

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You Were Never Truly Gone ch.9

>>>Read on AO3<<<

This chapter was... difficult to write after the full ending, and I will put deeper reasoning in the end note. Anyway, I hope that you will like it, it's basically plot only ^^

“I’m not going to marry the Shogun because I will be one.”

Those words were supposed to mean something, but they just hopped around inside Kiyomi’s mind before flying out, leaving nothing behind. They just didn’t make sense, put together like this.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I will be Shogun.”

“No, you will marry the Shogun you…”

“No, I will be the Shogun.”

There was no spark in Mikasa’s eyes as she spoke, no hidden smile, but it was so absurd that Kiyomi burst out laughing anyway.

“That has to be the worst joke I have ever heard, lady Mikasa. Now…”, she tried standing up, the chair scraping the floor, “let us go before…”

“Sit.”, this time it was from Eren, and she found herself seated before Kiyomi even realized why, “Mikasa is not finished.”

“She is, obviously, she is simply making fun of me.”

Slowly and surely, the raven shook her head.

“I am not.”

“You are joking, you have to be,”, Kiyomi rambled, “all you ever wanted was a quiet and peaceful life, right? I can… I can give it to you, I can give you that solitude you want…”

She half-raised her hand, almost reaching over the table.

“You never asked to be special, you never wanted that burden on your shoulders. I understand and I will help – all you must do is follow the plan and you can have everything you ever asked for. Please, stop this nonsense.”

Mikasa’s eyes didn’t budge, meeting Kiyomi’s pleading ones without flinching. Her hand holding onto Eren’s tightened a bit, but other than that she remained still, as her lips formed the word the old woman feared.

“No.”

“B-But…”

“Listen, I know that you mean well for me, that all you want is for your country to be stable in this ruined world. You are right in almost everything you said, but realize that as the world changed during the war, so did I.”

Mikasa’s voice was not very loud but it carried a commanding tone, one filled with the inner strength Kiyomi admired.

“Do I want a quiet and peaceful life with those I love? Yes. But that is no longer an option.”

“It is if you…”

“Let me finish.”, again, even when interrupting her Mikasa didn’t raise her voice, “Please.”

Seeing that the old woman backed down, the raven continued.

“I have lived my whole childhood behind walls, believing that we are the only human society left. Then, as a teenager, I fought the titans who I believed to be the true enemy of humanity. As an adult, I was told that it was all wrong.”

Behind her, Eren shifted a bit but didn’t say anything, leaving Mikasa in charge.

“You can’t blame me that all I wanted was a safe and stable home, a place at peace. But the world is hellbent on preventing me from having it, in a different way than before but still a valid one. Even if I and Eren hid, even if we ran from it all, the best possible scenario is a delay in the destruction – with the course Paradis is on, it will end up destroyed. I don’t care if it’s a hundred years from now, I don’t care if it's two hundred, I don’t care if it’s a thousand years. In my life, in our life, I want to make it a place that is open and peaceful with the world, not an island marked for destruction. Because if we can’t make it safe for our children and grandchildren, then what did we fight for in the first place?”

Her fingers squeezed Eren’s between them.

“You are right that I would still prefer to have a quiet life somewhere, but I am prepared to sacrifice that solitude in order to have that dream. After all, I realized that home is not a place for me anymore.”, she tilted her head a bit to the side, a tiny smile mirroring that one on Eren’s lips, “It is something I can take with me, anywhere in the world.”

For whatever reason, Kiyomi had a feeling that Mikasa wasn’t talking about the goat.

“Look, that is a nice speech and all, but why would they ever accept you as a Shogun? It makes no sense.”

“Hizuru fell to ruin while it relied on itself – granted, it was mostly caused by the rumbling but your council did little to unite the country. I will bring an outsider perspective, a new and open book that represents Hizuru in its post-war world. Still, without anyone supporting me I would say that you are correct and I have no chance, but I will have a very strong ally on my side.”, once again, the grey gaze speared the old woman in place, “You.”

“No, you are crazy.”, Kiyomi was shaking her head, “I will not support you in this insanity.”

“You don’t really have a choice.”

“I... I don’t have a choice? Me?”, fed up with this, Kiyomi’s fist slammed the table, “You don’t realize that we are in my country now, and I control what happens with you. The Faceless outside? They are sworn to the Shogun but you are not one yet – if I order them to take you they will do so without a second of hesitation.”

She leaned over the table, fuming.

“I can have you locked up in a second, both of you. Sure, your will might be strong but I can take my sweet time breaking you and…”

“You could when I came here,”, Mikasa interrupted her, “But not anymore.”

“… What are you talking about?”

“The parade. All the people who saw me, both here and the harbor, happy and alive and going of my own free will. What do you think they will do if the hero you brought from beyond the sea, the Shogun’s descendant and the last link to his bloodline, will disappear?”

So this was why Mikasa wanted one… this was why she, being usually a very reserved person, insisted on being paraded through the city. This was why….

“You never told the public about your plans, did you?”, the raven went on, “The ruling council knows, but not the ordinary folk – you were preparing this bid for new Shogun and his foreign wife in secret. So, simply exchange it for my scenario – young and motivated ruler, coming from a horrible was she was a hero of. Scarred by her past but ready to be the one we need in these trying times.”

Mikasa was right too, Kiyomi realized to her horror, the situation in Hizuru was on the knife’s edge already, and if the one bargaining chip she brought suddenly went missing that would be enough to boil it over the point of no return. The peasants would storm the very gates of the palace, just to save the blood of the revered Shogun.

“They won’t accept it…”, Kiyomi muttered in her slump, “They will never let you be their ruler.”

“Maybe, but do you realize all the power you could keep? I don’t understand ruling, I am a simple soldier, I would need the council’s help. I would need your help too, Kiyomi.”

Mikasa saw it, saw the tiny flash of greed in the old woman’s eyes, and that’s when she knew that she got her hooked.

“My help?”

“But of course, all the pains and responsibilities… I would very much appreciate it if you were there to help me carry them.”

Power, so much power that could be squeezed out of this situation. A young, inexperienced woman thrust into a role she didn’t understand. She, an old and skilled schemer. Together, they could be unstoppable.

Was it such a risk to Kiyomi herself? If the council went fully against Mikasa she would bow out to save her face – sure, she would lose some credibility and reputation, but it wouldn’t be too bad. If she went carefully about this, she could express her support of Mikasa’s claim without sticking her neck out for her.

So, then…

“I am willing to give it a try.”, she let out slowly, weighing every single word, “However, if everyone turns on you I will not go down with your plan. You have to understand that the chance of the council going with your proposal is minuscule at best, and if they decide that you will marry instead then I won’t be able to stop them.”

A tiny light of hope flashed in Mikasa’s chest.

“That’s all I ask for,”, the replied curtly, “I believe that I can convince them.”

“Remains to be seen.”, standing up for like the third time today, Kiyomi stretched her back with a pop, “Shall we go then?”

“One more thing.”, jerking her thumb towards Eren, Mikasa gave her an apologetic smile, “Do you have a spare Faceless uniform around?”

“……..”

“Well?”

“You want to bring him to the meeting?”

“The Faceless never remove their masks, you said it yourself.”

“Sure, but…”

“I know that you dislike Eren, but he and I are a package deal, I thought that I made that clear.”

“How do you think that the rest of the Faceless guard will react if you just jam your lover between them?”

“I figured that they won’t question it if the order comes from someone as high ranked as you.”, Mikasa had the audacity to blink at her, “Was I wrong?”

Where did this woman come from? Last Kiyomi remembered Mikasa Ackerman was a quiet and timid woman so shocked by her revelation that she couldn’t even speak correctly. This sudden change…

No, it wasn’t sudden at all. Kiyomi remembered this Mikasa too, she showed during the battles and fights, when the goal wasn’t to speak but to fly around and knock skulls together. This goddess in a human form found a way to project her sureness from the battlefield to her everyday life and looking at the man behind her Kiyomi could guess why.

It took her years and an apocalypse nipping at her heels, but Mikasa was a way more adult version of herself now. In a way it made Kiyomi happy because seeing her reach the full potential was amazing, on the other hand it complicated her own schemes. This Mikasa wouldn’t let herself be led around.

“No, I think that I can arrange it.”, pushing herself away from the table, Kiyomi made her way out of the room but not before shooting a last look at the pair.

Impressive.

It was also smart because no one would question a Faceless accompanying the future shogun’s wife -if anything they would congratulate her on integrating into their society so quickly.

The Faceless guard was trained in a lot of ways – fighting, protecting, dying for their master, and most of all not questioning orders. Normally they only took those from a Shogun, but because there was none Kiyomi, as a member of the ruling council, effectively commanded them. Finding a uniform for Eren “Aaron” wasn’t difficult, and soon Kiyomi was waiting outside of the room while Mikasa helped him change.

“There,”, she pulled the last strap tight, “That should be good.”

“Hmm, I hope that it will be enough.”, Eren’s fingers brushed over the mask, “Me getting recognized…”

“… is not going to happen.”, Mikasa finished for him, “Now stop worrying and give me a good luck kiss so we can go, I’m sure that Kiyomi is tearing her hair out by now.”

It was supposed to be just a peck but she wasn’t satisfied with that. Her hands circled Eren’s shoulders while one found its way to the thick of his hair, pushing his face down to meet her height. And then it was teeth, tongue, and everything until she pulled back, a blush dusting her cheeks now.

“There, now I think that I’m ready.”

Grinning, Eren fastened the mask in place, making sure that all his features were hidden from view.

“Shall we?”

Kiyomi’s scowl grew from anxious to disgusted when she saw Mikasa’s red face, very quickly connecting the dots and realizing what took them so long. For once she didn’t comment on it, only motioning for them to follow and taking the lead.

The chambers they were looking for were in the palace, but with the sheer magnitude of the building it was quite a journey. One that got interrupted, by a man that walked up to them with wide eyes and a surprised expression all over his youthful face.

“Mikasa? Lady Ackerman? Is that you?”

“Do I know you?”

“Not yet, but I hope that we will get to know each other soon.”, a cocksure laugh, “Lady Azumabito, would you do the honors?”

There was a badly concealed pained expression on Kiyomi’s face as she gestured towards the man.

“This is Daigo Sawamura, heir to the Sawamura clan and one of the most influential men in Hizuru.”, a short nod towards Mikasa, “Your future husband.”

He was…. young, about Mikasa’s age, with a pleasant face and trained manners. Someone who was born to wealth and raised in it, would probably die in it too. This man never had to fight for his life, never had to starve or scavenge on the streets for the smallest scraps of food. He might be nice, as Kiyomi claimed back on the ship, but almost instantly from meeting him Mikasa could say that life with him would be unbearable to her. Their worlds were miles and miles apart, and she had a feeling that no amount of time spent together would bridge that gap.

Now then, there was no need to be rude.

“O-Oh.”, Mikasa’s eyes ticked from left to right, “I.. Uhm.. nice to meet you?”

Behind her, Eren let out a long breath from behind the Faceless mask. Jealousy was not a new emotion for him, and having it from someone who was introduced as the “future husband” of his lover was understandable. Then again, he couldn’t act on it, since he was… well…

Dead. Or at least supposed to be.

Unphased by her embarrassment and ignorant of Eren’s internal struggle, Daigo took a step forward.

“I’ll admit, I was doubtful when lady Azumabito described your beauty to me, especially considering that you were a soldier your whole life, but now I see how wrong and stupid I was. She didn’t overplay your beauty, she didn’t give it justice instead”, with a practiced and elegant movement, he kissed Mikasa’s hand before straightening with a tight and easy smile on his lips, “Consider me smitten by your uttermost perfection.”

In a way Kiyomi enjoyed the way Eren’s hand tightened, shaking dangerously close to where his sword was. But having Daigo cut down by a “Faceless” would do nothing but throw whatever plans she or Mikasa had out of the window. So, Kiyomi did the smart thing and stepped in.

“I am very sorry, but we are expected by the council.”

“Of course, don’t let me keep you.”, he winked at them, “I was told to meet you there, but I simply couldn’t wait to see you for myself. I heard so much about you, lady Mikasa, all about the barbaric society that you were raised in, all about the heroic deeds you’ve done in the war - I must say that I admire you, you are a hero.”

“T-Thank you.”

“And seeing you now, I do hope that you won’t be offended when I say that our children will be perfect, beautiful, and will indeed save Hizuru. Me and you, our dynasty will lead this country to a glorious future, and it will start by our marriage that I’m already looking forward to.”, he leaned even closer, whispering but they all heard the words anyway, ”Especially the wedding night, my dear fiancé.”

God damn it Daigo.

“That is very kind, but we have to go now.”, pushing herself physically between the smitten noble and Mikasa who was one bad touch from showing him what personal space meant, Kiyomi forcefully separated them, “Excuse us.”

Pulling the girl behind herself and hearing the footsteps of Eren, who luckily didn’t stay behind to gut Daigo, Kiyomi retreated to a safe distance before letting go of Mikasa’s hand. She turned to the girl, fists on her hips.

“How close were you to punching him?”, she asked.

“Very.”

A chuckle from Eren, followed by a muffled “Nice.”

No matter how old he got, Eren Yeager would apparently remain a suicidal blockhead. Attacking a noble in the palace was nothing but trouble.

“I can assure you that decking him would have done a disservice to whatever you are planning.”, Kiyomi deadpanned.

“Then I’m glad you were there with me.”, Mikasa latched on, “See? You are already guiding me, it will only get better once you can instruct me when I’m Shogun.”

Stroking her ego, huh? Well played.

“We should get going, the council is not known for its patience.”

Crossing one corridor and the next, Kiyomi slowly but surely led them towards the ruling chambers. Each and everyone was holding their breath – Kiyomi in her nervousness, Mikasa while she was reciting what to say in her mind, and Eren because his eyes kept going left and right and searching for a possible escape route if the plan went haywire.

With last few steps they were at their destination, a large door guarded by two men in ceremonial armor. Upon seeing Kiyomi they both saluted and were ready to open the entrance on her command.

“You ready?”, the old woman asked Mikasa, getting a shaky nod in return.

Eren wanted to hug her back then, stroke her hair and tell her that everything will be fine, but such an act would break whatever illusion he was hiding behind. Steeling himself against the mushy feelings in his chest, he remained still with back straight, the perfect image of a well-trained guardsman.

After a few more deep breaths Mikasa’s next nod became firm again, and Kiyomi deemed her ready to face the council. With a mumbled order to the men, the door creaked open and the trio stepped in, ready to lay their cards on the table.

#eremika #snk #fanfic

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askbfdigta · 4 months

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Something random I thought about.

X: Four, I wonder why you have yet to act against Two. Four: His plans scare me a lot, X. But I can't terminate him because the contestants trust him as much as they trust me. X: Then why are you letting him off the hook? Four: Because he has Donut and Barf Bag on his side. They hold 5% each of his power. X: What does that mean? Four: Two's power is mighty, almost matching a literal god's power, X. This aspect of Two makes me worried that I'm forced to enable his behavior. X: Where did the president everyone loved go? Four: He died when the people chose the current one, my old friend. I wish I were myself, too.

Goodbye, yellow text! I'll miss you!

Yes, I edited it.

#bfb au #bfdi au #battle for dream islands: greed takes all #greed takes all #bfdi: greed takes all #bfb:gta #bfdi:gta #bfb fanfic #tpot:gta #bfb x #bfb four #bfb two #bfdi four #bfdi x #bfdi two #tpot two #tpot x #tpot four

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maxskulline · 4 years

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Freshly brewed coffee steams in a cup that’s shaped like the bulbous form of a Petilil. The hands wrapped around it are speckled in cuts and freckles alike, because farm work is never easy and because she spends more time in the sun these days than she’s used to. Max found out that she isn’t too prone to sunburn, and that that’s a good thing when you work in one of Alola’s dryest, hottest areas. Instead, her skin turned into a soft tan and her freckles stand out more than ever. It looks pretty - anyone would say so. Those who were once bold enough to trace the constellations on her skin always said how much they love that she’s star kissed. But beauty isn’t anything she pays much attention to these days. Why should she? On a usual day, Max works herself to the limit and then some, pushes past the possible because she dreams less when she’s exhausted. Dreams are unpleasant, unwelcomed, repetetive and she’s so tired of seeing it all happening over and over again. Of seeing him.

The him she knew last, his wickedness forever imprinted into her memory, is more bearable. She can deal with the hatred she feels for this person. It’s the dreams of their time before - before all of this - the dreams of a family she has loved and lost - those are the ones driving Max to a fitful, tear-stained awakening. Sometimes, she scrambles to the bathroom just in time to purge herself. As if she could throw up the shards he has left of her, cutting her apart from the inside. It is for this reason Max eventually decided to sleep in her own room, and protect Rosie from the mess she has turned into. She had to promise Rosie that she’ll take a bedroom next door, and that she’d always be there when Rosie needed her. But this is a battle she prefers to fight alone.

On some days, Max doesn’t respond much when someone attempts conversation. These are the bad days. The days when she can only make it by because she’s had nothing for breakfast but a good handful of Valium. If asked, Max will blame it on bad sleep - it’s not technically a lie. Although, in hindsight, no one cares how dissociated she feels as long as she’s earning her keep on the farm, and intrusive answers are never demanded by anyone. In return she doesn’t care if she can’t remember the rest of the day because all that matters is to make it by somehow and save up enough Pokédollars to leave this godforsaken island.

Today’s one of those less than okay days. The cup’s been sitting in front of her nose for a good half hour and turned luke-warm, voices and colours are whirring around the pink haired girl who sits two chairs apart from another youth at the table, a television is running distantly in the background. It’s all there and not there at the same time. To the outside eye, Max may look like a girl who isn’t an early riser and who needs her first cup of coffee to be talkative. They wouldn’t guess that she hasn’t slept to begin with lest they take a closer look at her face and notice the dark circles lining her eyes.

Her fingers begin to trace the texture of the oak wood table over and over again, although she hardly acknowledges the sensation, while she musters enough clarity to wonder where Rosie went. There’s a young man named Rocky she’s getting along with well, very much to her surprise. Rocky’s been - he’s been good to them. Especially to Rosie. Patient, attentive, funny, the kinda guy with such a warmth in his smile that he could melt away glaciers. He’s handsome, too. If Max cared about such shallow nonsesense nowadays. Still, for all the fucks she’s lost to give, she definitely cares about Rosie, and Rosie’s smiling a little more around him. It is the sole reason why Max can let herself relax a little whenever her best friend is spending time with him, indulge in self-pity without pretending she’s anything but heartbroken.

The coffee’s gone pretty cold now. Doors open and shut close again, until she’s left in the room with three middle-aged farm workers. No one had shut off the TV. Max feels like she’s only now waking up, slowly blinking and shifting on her seat until her whereabouts make sense again. When the large grandfather clock tells her it’s almost time for her shift, Max lifts the cup at last and empties it in two large sips. Ugh - unsugared, cold coffee’s pretty much the worst and almost makes her wanna spit it out again, but it does as good a job of snapping her back as a smack to her cheek would. She cringes into herself and reaches out to pluck a grape from the fruit bowl as a means to wash away the bitterness.

Her hand stops and falls flat when someone turns up the TV, loud enough to make her feel like she’s being once again pulled under water where she cannot breathe.

‘.......... as of this morning, we can confirm that the President of the Aether Foundation was found and is now receiving medical care.’

Max moves on auto-pilot. Her legs don’t even feel like her own when she gets up and joins the others by the TV, fingers curled inwards so tightly that her nails leave crescent dents. Everything she hears and sees, Max watches from somewhere else - she’s no longer the owner of her body, but rather an observer. And yet - yet she feels more alert than she has had for the past couple of weeks. “What’s going on?”, she hears herself ask, unable to tear her eyes away from the screen. Next to the reporter plays a scene most likely recorded by phone, a shaky recording trying to focus on a bright tear in the sky. ‘It shouldn’t be there’ is the first thing Max thinks when she sees the wormhole - she’s never seen one in person before, made it out before she ever could. But looking at it feels unnatural and wrong because she knows the sinister fabrications behind it. All those experiments on the poor Pokémon..... no, this thing shouldn’t exist.

“Dunno, they said it’s been there for hours before someone dropped out of it. Closed up right after. Apparently it spat out the missing Aether Foundation president.”

And there she is. A fallen angel, exiled from what she had deemed her own paradise - a fitting and deserved ending to the nightmare she had played such a great part to create. She can’t find an ounce of sympathy within her, and why should she? This woman - she may look like a fallen angel now, but she certainly helped to crown Max as the queen of nothing - and she deserves everything she’s got coming for her. But not even the thought of a fitting punishment can satisfy Max now because something else’s catching her attention.

It’s easy to miss, really. Just a black shadow falling through the sky when the camera zooms in. Max may have been the only one who saw it happening - a man dropping from the wormhole mere seconds after the President - a someone not even the news care to name. If Max thought she had lost her ground before, now it is swallowing her up whole. There’s little room to breathe down here, in the depths of everything she suppressed until now - the uncertainity and the fear and the deeply rooted knowing she wouldn’t let herself dwell upon because it hurts too much. She was right all along. She was right to think he’d do it. Max whimpers but doesn’t feel the solid pull on her arm, dragging her away from the television. A strong, kind hand - Rocky’s hand.

He and Lusamine are the only people who fell from the wormhole. There was no one else. None. He’s left them all behind. Max can feel her mind reeling, the world around her spinning. There’s a ringing in her ears, but every sound is dull, as if spoken through cotton wool. Max is pliant when Rocky maneuvers her out of the house and Rosie grabs her hand, speaking to her, telling her friend to breathe.

There was no one else.

Traitor.

Guzma had called her a traitor for turning her back on him and his grandior plans. What had happened to her friends? Where are they? Did - did he leave them in his so called paradise? No.. No, that’s not it. She knows that’s not what had happened at all. Her vision blurs when something inside her fractures at the truth she had known all along. Now she’s clinging to Rosie, though she doesn’t remember when her hands found Rosie’s upper arms. She may be squeezing too tightly because Rosie flinches, but she doesn’t push Max away when her body cracks and she starts sobbing.

He didn’t take them with him to begin with. Because there never was any room for anyone else, not even for Max.

She can’t turn away from the last time she saw him; it plays like a broken record, over and over and over again. How could she have believed that their ending may have swayed something inside of Guzma? She remembers him on his knees before her, rain-soaked, defeated, insane. She remembers the look in his eyes when she left him for good. She remembers that he wasn’t alone - he was surrounded by the people who adored and admired him through every challenge, who were there to catch his fall from grace and who could have made a change for him - but instead, he chose to follow her. Every last bit of hope she had left for him died today. She hates herself for having hoped to begin with - such a stupid and human thing to do. Guzma cannot be saved from his greed for everything that’s bigger and better than him. It is a disease and it’s infested him too deeply. He cannot see the good that he already has - that’s why, in the end, he couldn’t see her. Max doubts he ever will learn to know what he has. It isn’t her problem anymore.

Half an hour passes in the blink of an eye, but eventually, her breathing slows down and the tears dry fast under Alola’s brightest sun. A pair of brown eyes stare with concern, but there’s pain in them, too. Max wishes she could take it away - but she can’t even take her own pain away. What good is she, really?

She really is the queen of nothing.

“Sorry about that”, she croaks out and clears her throat twice. Fumbles in the pocket of her pants for a half-empty pack of cigarettes and can’t even light it because her fingers shake so much. Kudos to Rocky for nicking the lighter and doing the job for her.

“Rosie.”

Another problem comes with the fact that Guzma’s back in the picture. Not that she expects him to look for her, but you never know - might wanna take his sweet revenge for ruining his image in front of the Prez. She’ll need to make herself invisible and unknown to him, or to anyone who may recognize her as his.....

Whatever.

The first cigarette’s burned down within seconds. She can light the next one herself, ignoring the concern written all over Rosie’s and Rocky’s faces because Max is acting like this break down didn’t even happen. “I need your help with something, okay? If he’s back out there, I need to make sure he’ll never find me.”

Because Arceus knows how long they’ll have to work for an escape from Alola.

“I need you to cut my hair.”

#💀 V: The Queen of Nothing (Post-Game)#OOF okay this drabble was self-care #but holy crap it hurt #i've been sitting on it for weeks..but finally had the motivation to finish it

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moltenhair · 4 years

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Since I’d gotten a few asks asking about my continuation of the story.... I wrote a little more. I combined ideas for 2 different things into one long addition. Taking place after they get the Captain of the Guard back from Terapi Island and exploring more of the backstory I gave him and Cass.

Also I gave him a name.

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Memories

Corona… A sickening saccharine symbol of corruption and greed. Where the every-man is tricked into believing their king cares for their needs and wants what is best for them. Where they are forced to love their ruler or face the consequences. Where anyone who dares shine a light on that ruler’s misdeeds is vilified and cast out.

Cassandra had seen it before. Seen it and stood by to let it happen. She’d been a part of the problem as much as anyone, hadn’t she? She had defended the beliefs of their king, had charged into battle in his name. Never realizing then how the system that cared so little for her had been exploiting her for its own gain.

She stood at the forest’s edge, looking out over those vibrant hills to where the castle towers stood proud against the sky. Those towers she once called home… And she would again soon. Once she cleared out all of the obsolete leaders and established a new order. One where people like herself could finally thrive.

But first…. She had a stop to make.

“Captain, I know this must be hard for you… Coming back without Cass..” Princess Rapunzel put a hand on the man’s shoulder as their balloon carried them across the sky and away from Terapi Island. The world beneath them peaceful despite what has happened. Blissfully unaware of the rising darkness. “But we’ll figure this out. We’ll stop Cass before anything else bad can happen. We’ll talk some sense into her-”

“Cassandra has never been the ‘do as she’s told’ type.” The captain spoke at last. His first words for the entire journey back to Corona. And he said them with a sorrowful laugh as he recalled his child. The fondness of a father in his eyes. “Even when I first found her she was a fighter.”

Rapunzel pulled back her hand slowly, glancing over to Eugene with a shared knowing look. This was the first time anyone had ever spoken of the day Cassandra was adopted. There had always been some understanding that they didn’t need to know.. It never mattered where she came from.. Until now, at least.

“I always assumed Cass got that from you.” Eugene moved to the Captain’s other side, leaning on the edge of the balloon’s basket. “No offense, but you seem like a dad with a lot of rules.”

The captain laughed brighter, looking sidelong at the former thief, “Haha- No, no. Cassandra was always a brave girl.. I just taught her to be brave for the right reasons. Why, when I first met her, I was amazed at the strength this sweet, little thing was hiding.”

A smile curled Rapunzel’s lip as she watched the Captain talk about his daughter. Her best friend before all this happened. It was a side of Cass’ life that the Princess had never gotten to know in the past. It wasn’t Cassandra’s style to reminisce like this. In fact, there were few things Rapunzel knew about her childhood at all.

“Captain.” She began, putting her petite hand over his as she smiled warmly up at him. “Would you… tell us that story?”

There was a pause, a thoughtful silence that hung in the air like their balloon. The Captain of the Guard hummed, his eyes locked on the horizon in contemplation… But soon enough he looked at the Princess and returned her smile.

“I’d be happy to.”

It was a dark and stormy night. Weren’t they always when something bad was doomed to happen to an innocent person? Lightning flashed and thunder boomed in the skies of Corona. Rain fell heavily on rooftops, cooling them from the harsh beating of the summer sun just hours before. Out in the streets bakers stowed their bread carts and women ran with their aprons held over their heads to keep themselves dry. But in short time the stone roads were empty.

The rain had a way of lulling Corona to sleep. The kingdom always seemed to fall with the sun. Soon enough the citizens were tucked in their beds to the rattling lullaby of the rain. All except the royal guards of course… And one curly haired little girl.

Cassandra stood tip-toed on her mattress, fingers curled around the high windowsill to pull herself over it. Her olive green eyes peeked out through the rain spattered glass at the kingdom beyond. At the castle she could always see from the orphanage windows. She wondered if everyone in the kingdom could see it from their houses or if she was just one of the lucky ones.

Beyond the rain and fog, Cassandra could see familiar armored shapes. A recognizable crest of a helmet she’d seen almost every day since she was brought to this place. A Guard on Patrol. It was raining cats and dogs but he was still out doing his job. The guards must have been really good people. They protected Corona even if it meant they had to get wet. Cassandra was only five and a quarter , but she already knew… She wanted to be just like them when she was big.

There was something else familiar about those Uniforms, too… Something she felt like she should remember but couldn’t.

The little girl let go of the window and dropped backward onto her bed to sit atop the covers. Around her the sparse other children slept comfortably. Dreaming of the parents they someday hoped to have. Or maybe of the parents they once had. In the next room, the director of the orphanage had drifted off, embracing a bottle of ‘mead’. Cassandra didn’t know what mead was, but she figured it was something that made grownups sleepy. The director drank it only after the children went to sleep. Nothing ever woke her in the middle of the night.

A sudden racket made Cassandra jump with a start. A thumping clatter like wood rattling against wood. The girl hopped up once more to look out the window. She could see that same guard as before but he was moving much faster. Frantic as he spoke to another guard before splitting off to run separately down the dark Corona alleys. But there was no one else in sight.

Then the sound came again. But, if there was no one outside, that sound had to come from inside. Cassandra climbed out of bed slowly and quietly. She reached under her bunk to pull out a wooden sword she’d won from one of the boys in a wrestling match. She held it high the way she’d seen the Guards do as she treaded carefully toward the hallway.

When she rounded the corner, she couldn’t see anything. It was pitch black as far as the eye could see. Which wasn’t very far with all the lanterns out. But there was a flickering of orange fire light from beneath the crack of the door of the director’s room. Cassandra walked toward that light on tip-toe, planning to pass it and go to the kitchen… But then she noticed a shadow crossing that orange light from inside the room. The shape of legs carrying a person back and forth.

Was the director actually still awake? Were they the one making noise?

Cassandra lowered herself to the floor to lay on her belly. With her hands pressed to the old floorboards she did her best to look under the door. What she saw almost made her gasp loudly, but she put a hand over her mouth to silence herself.

There was a stranger in there! A big ugly one. Looking through the director’s things while they slept! Taking her jewelry and coins and putting them in a bag. The child watched in horror as this person- this criminal- uncovered the safe where the director kept all the money she used to take care of the children.

He was gonna take the money for the kids!

Not on Cassandra’s watch, he wasn’t.

In moments she was back on her feet, sword in hand. She scurried quickly and quietly away and toward the kitchen where she’d originally heard the noise coming from. When she got there, she found the window left wide open, rain pouring in from the outside. Ew, and he’d tracked mud in from outside.

Think, Cassandra, think. What would a Guard do? A guard would keep the bad guy from escaping! The lock on the safe will only keep him busy for so long.

She ran to the window and jumped up to grab it and pull it closed.

As Cassandra climbed down she set her hand in something really GROSS! A bucket of cooking grease the director sometimes used to cook. It made her hands all slippery. Yuck! … Wait a second. She could use this. If only she also had some… string!

In the corner was a roll of thick twine used for preparing roasts. It wasn’t cuffs but it would do in a pinch. And to a child it was as good as rope.

Cassandra gathered her items and hurried back down the hall. She could hear the groaning of the safe’s iron door as this thief managed to finally break into it. All without the director stirring an inch. Not wasting any time, the little girl turned over the grease bucket and let it slop out down the hallway. It was thick and goopy, but it covered enough of the floor that there was no way this crook wasn’t going to step in it. Then, Cassandra took a length of the twine and strung it across the hallway a few inches from the ground. She’d seen the boys in the orphanage trip each other like this all the time. Hopefully it also worked on grown ups.

When the door began to open Cassandra ran behind it and hid against the wall. She held her breath as this larger person came into view, carrying a sack of things that didn’t belong to him. He didn’t even consider looking down at where she hid. He probably didn’t think anyone was awake. And why would he worry about a KID catching him?

He was about to learn to be worried.

Outside, the guards were searching the alleys high and low. They’d spotted him. A serial robber who had robbed five families in a week. Taken everything of value they owned in the dead of night. But he’d vanished from under their noses somehow.

Dammit!

Was this how the new Captain of the Guard was to be known? As the man who took over and couldn’t even catch a common thief? He was better than this… But he needed to prove that as the new captain he would take care of the people’s best interests while also fulfilling the will of his king. He inherited this position after a great tragedy. His first year as captain had been nothing but struggles.

Captain Roland wiped the rain from his face as he glowered through the fog. His crossbow hung in his hands, relaxed. His boots creaked as he crept quietly behind the businesses and homes of Corona. His eyes, piercing and narrow, flicked high and low.. He was getting closer. He could feel it.

The sole of his boot slipped against the wet stone and he looked down. Muddy footprints. Headed down a second alley and behind the orphanage. He followed the steps and found they led to a window. Shut. But he could see the mud trail ended inside.

Gods… No. Roland shuddered to think about a criminal breaking into a building full of children. Children who had already lost so much.

The Captain tried to yank the window open to pursue the criminal inside. But it must have latched when it was shut. It wouldn’t budge. And the captain wasn’t about to break the window of an orphanage.

Instead he ran as fast as he could around to the front door. He took the handle in his hands and pulled. Locked. Of course it was. He rattled the door, he hammered his fist against the hard wood.

“Open up! This is the Captain of the Guard!”

There was.. Some kind of sound inside. Then the smallest of footsteps drawing near to the door. He raised his crossbow as he heard the lock click. He was prepared for anything when that door opened… Everything but a curly haired little girl. She was smiling up at him so brightly. His crossbow lowered immediately as he glanced around. There was no one else, just this child.

“You’re finally here!” she grinned, bouncing on her little legs before grabbing him by the hand to pull him inside. “C’mon, c’mon!”

Roland followed, hunched over with his hand in hers. He looked about as this child led him towards a back hallway. Nothing looked damaged. He could see children peeking out of their bedrooms, rubbing the sleep from their eyes. Woken up by whatever had happened. Same as the director who seemed far less coherent. And then… the Captain found his criminal.

Laid out on the floor, feet tied together. He was covered in what looked like… lard. And it appeared that he’d slipped in it quite a bit while trying to make his get away. Beside him his bag of stolen goods was spilled across the floor. Everything that was taken from the Orphanage and more. The man himself… was unconscious. Out cold from what looked like a blow to the head from a wooden toy sword. He was going to have a bump, but he’d be fine.

“I made sure he didn’t get away. All by myself!” The little girl proudly boasted before moving around the Captain to push on his legs from behind. Urging him on, “Now you can arrest him!”

Roland was… impressed! He’d never seen a child stand up to a criminal like this and come out unscathed. It would have been so much easier for her to hide and wait for an adult to show up. The Captain would have shown up regardless… But it might have been too late if she hadn’t acted like she did.

“You did very well, little one.” He praised, kneeling down and putting a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “And you’re not hurt?”

“Nuh-uh.” She shook her head, her mess of dark curls bouncing.

He couldn’t help but chuckle. This was one special kid.

“You acted very bravely tonight.. What’s your name?”

“Cassandra.”

The corner’s of Roland’s eyes wrinkled as he warmly smiled down at her. He held out a hand to the child. Her small hand landed in his, gripping his fingers tightly as they shook hands.

“Thank you for your help... Cassandra.”

Rubble.

All that remained was rubble.

No one had even come to claim the land in the twenty years since Cassandra and her Mother left it. It wasn’t rich enough soil, or a big enough plot for anyone to want it. They hadn’t even bothered to clean up the mess.

Fractions of walls remained of what once was a farmhouse. Cass’ farmhouse. The home she had forgotten. The home she knew before her mother was given no choice but to leave her at an orphanage. In the hopes that someone, anyone, would find her and be able to afford to give the child a better life. A happier life.

Where her mother went after that… Cass wasn’t sure she’d ever know.

But someone had found her, just like Mother planned, hadn’t they? At least one of their dreams came true.

Cass could vividly remember each visit he made to get to know her. She remembered the moment he walked back through those doors to tell her she was going to be living with him from now on. At the moment she never wanted anything more in her whole life… Because she’d made herself forget the life she’d had before… She never even realized she was adopted by the newest leader of the guards that chose their king’s orders over her mother… The people responsible for the way her life turned out.

Cass scowled and stomped at an old plank of wood, breaking it into splinters. She kicked the remains aside then paused at what she found beneath.. A little wooden cup. Somehow it survived the fire and all these years in the elements..

The woman bent to pick it up, holding it in her armored palm. It was so tiny compared to how it once looked in a four year old’s hands.

She stood in somber silence, her eyes prickling with tears she stubbornly refused to share.

Without a word, Cass walked to what remained of her mother’s old dinner table. The cup was set at its center neatly and then… Cass picked one of the purple wildflowers that had overtaken the homestead. Grown healthy and strong in the ashes of her life…The only good thing to come out of this mess...

Cass left the flower and the cup in the center of the table….

And left to finally fulfill her destiny.

#rapunzel's tangled adventure #tangled the series #Cassandra #the captain of the #season 3 minus gothel #my art #fanfic

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crociincovid · 3 years

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I know him, February's thrush, And loud at eve he valentines On sprays that paw the naked bush Where soon will sprout the thorns and bines. Now ere the foreign singer thrills Our vale his plain-song pipe he pours, A herald of the million bills; And heed him not, the loss is yours. My study, flanked with ivied fir And budded beech with dry leaves curled, Perched over yew and juniper, He neighbours, piping to his world:- The wooded pathways dank on brown, The branches on grey cloud a web, The long green roller of the down, An image of the deluge-ebb:- And farther, they may hear along The stream beneath the poplar row. By fits, like welling rocks, the song Spouts of a blushful Spring in flow. But most he loves to front the vale When waves of warm South-western rains Have left our heavens clear in pale, With faintest beck of moist red veins: Vermilion wings, by distance held To pause aflight while fleeting swift: And high aloft the pearl inshelled Her lucid glow in glow will lift; A little south of coloured sky; Directing, gravely amorous, The human of a tender eye Through pure celestial on us: Remote, not alien; still, not cold; Unraying yet, more pearl than star; She seems a while the vale to hold In trance, and homelier makes the far. Then Earth her sweet unscented breathes, An orb of lustre quits the height; And like blue iris-flags, in wreaths The sky takes darkness, long ere quite. His Island voice then shall you hear, Nor ever after separate From such a twilight of the year Advancing to the vernal gate. He sings me, out of Winter's throat, The young time with the life ahead; And my young time his leaping note Recalls to spirit-mirth from dead. Imbedded in a land of greed, Of mammon-quakings dire as Earth's, My care was but to soothe my need; At peace among the littleworths. To light and song my yearning aimed; To that deep breast of song and light Which men have barrenest proclaimed; As 'tis to senses pricked with fright. So mine are these new fruitings rich The simple to the common brings; I keep the youth of souls who pitch Their joy in this old heart of things: Who feel the Coming young as aye, Thrice hopeful on the ground we plough; Alive for life, awake to die; One voice to cheer the seedling Now. Full lasting is the song, though he, The singer, passes: lasting too, For souls not lent in usury, The rapture of the forward view. With that I bear my senses fraught Till what I am fast shoreward drives. They are the vessel of the Thought. The vessel splits, the Thought survives. Nought else are we when sailing brave, Save husks to raise and bid it burn. Glimpse of its livingness will wave A light the senses can discern Across the river of the death, Their close. Meanwhile, O twilight bird Of promise! bird of happy breath! I hear, I would the City heard. The City of the smoky fray; A prodded ox, it drags and moans: Its Morrow no man's child; its Day A vulture's morsel beaked to bones. It strives without a mark for strife; It feasts beside a famished host: The loose restraint of wanton life, That threatened penance in the ghost! Yet there our battle urges; there Spring heroes many: issuing thence, Names that should leave no vacant air For fresh delight in confidence. Life was to them the bag of grain, And Death the weedy harrow's tooth. Those warriors of the sighting brain Give worn Humanity new youth. Our song and star are they to lead The tidal multitude and blind From bestial to the higher breed By fighting souls of love divined, They scorned the ventral dream of peace, Unknown in nature. This they knew: That life begets with fair increase Beyond the flesh, if life be true. Just reason based on valiant blood, The instinct bred afield would match To pipe thereof a swelling flood, Were men of Earth made wise in watch. Though now the numbers count as drops An urn might bear, they father Time. She shapes anew her dusty crops; Her quick in their own likeness climb. Of their own force do they create; They climb to light, in her their root. Your brutish cry at muffled fate She smites with pangs of worse than brute. She, judged of shrinking nerves, appears A Mother whom no cry can melt; But read her past desires and fears, The letters on her breast are spelt. A slayer, yea, as when she pressed Her savage to the slaughter-heaps, To sacrifice she prompts her best: She reaps them as the sower reaps. But read her thought to speed the race, And stars rush forth of blackest night: You chill not at a cold embrace To come, nor dread a dubious might. Her double visage, double voice, In oneness rise to quench the doubt. This breath, her gift, has only choice Of service, breathe we in or out. Since Pain and Pleasure on each hand Led our wild steps from slimy rock To yonder sweeps of gardenland, We breathe but to be sword or block. The sighting brain her good decree Accepts; obeys those guides, in faith, By reason hourly fed, that she, To some the clod, to some the wraith, Is more, no mask; a flame, a stream. Flame, stream, are we, in mid career From torrent source, delirious dream, To heaven-reflecting currents clear. And why the sons of Strength have been Her cherished offspring ever; how The Spirit served by her is seen Through Law; perusing love will show. Love born of knowledge, love that gains Vitality as Earth it mates, The meaning of the Pleasures, Pains, The Life, the Death, illuminates. For love we Earth, then serve we all; Her mystic secret then is ours: We fall, or view our treasures fall, Unclouded, as beholds her flowers Earth, from a night of frosty wreck, Enrobed in morning's mounted fire, When lowly, with a broken neck, The crocus lays her cheek to mire.

-- The Thrush in February, by George Meredith

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kkintle · 3 years

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The Poetry of Sappho by Sappho; Quotes

"SAPPHO WHO BROKE OFF A FRAGMENT OF HER SOUL FOR US TO GUESS AT."

"Love's priestess, mad with pain and joy of song, Song's priestess, mad with joy and pain of love."

How many times to frail mortals Hast thou not hearkened! Now even I come before thee With oil and honey and wheat-bread, Praying for strength and fulfilment Of human longing, with purpose Ever to keep thy great worship Pure and undarkened.

And thou, sea-born Aphrodite, In whose beneficent keeping Earth, with her infinite beauty, Colour and fashion and fragrance, Glows like a flower with fervour Where woods are vernal! Touch with thy lips and enkindle This moon-white delicate body, Drench with the dew of enchantment This mortal one, that I also Grow to the measure of beauty Fleet yet eternal.

"What fair thing wouldst thou Lure now to love thee?

Peer of the gods he seems, Who in thy presence Sits and hears close to him Thy silver speech-tones And lovely laughter. Ah, but the heart flutters Under my bosom, When I behold thee Even a moment; Utterance leaves me; My tongue is useless; A subtle fire Runs through my body; My eyes are sightless, And my ears ringing; I flush with fever, And a strong trembling Lays hold upon me; Paler than grass am I, Half dead for madness. Yet must I, greatly Daring, adore thee, As the adventurous Sailor makes seaward For the lost sky-line And undiscovered Fabulous islands, Drawn by the lure of Beauty and summer And the sea's secret.

"The girl must have knowledge, To lend her freedom and poise. Naught will avail her beauty, If she have not wit beside.

"Mother of beauty, mother of joy, Why hast thou given to men "This thing called love, like the ache of a wound In beauty's, side, To burn and throb and be quelled for an hour And never wholly depart?"

And joy I knew and sorrow at thy voice, And the superb magnificence of love,— The loneliness that saddens solitude, And the sweet speech that makes it durable,— The bitter longing and the keen desire, The sweet companionship through quiet days In the slow ample beauty of the world, And the unutterable glad release Within the temple of the holy night. O Atthis, how I loved thee long ago In that fair perished summer by the sea!

And no man shall possess me Henceforth and forever.

But thou alone shalt gather This fragile flower of beauty,— To crush and keep the fragrance Like a holy incense. Thou only shalt remember This love of mine, or hallow The coming years with gladness, Calm and pride and passion.

Love shakes my soul, like a mountain wind Falling upon the trees, When they are swayed and whitened and bowed As the great gusts will.

With remembrance and joy. Ah, timid Syrinx, do I not know Thy tremor of sweet fear? For a beautiful and imperious player Is the lord of life.

How I adore thee. Let the hoarse torrent In the blue canyon, Murmuring mightily Out of the grey mist Of primal chaos, Cease not proclaiming How I adore thee.

But more than all sounds, Surer, serener, Fuller with passion And exultation, Let the hushed whisper In thine own heart say, How I adore thee.

I grow weary of the foreign cities, The sea travel and the stranger peoples. Even the clear voice of hardy fortune Dares me not as once on brave adventure. For the heart of man must seek and wander, Ask and question and discover knowledge; Yet above all goodly things is wisdom, And love greater than all understanding. So, a mariner, I long for land-fall,—

Art thou the top-most apple The gatherers could not reach, Reddening on the bough? Shall not I take thee? Art thou a hyacinth blossom The shepherds upon the hills Have trodden into the ground? Shall not I lift thee? Free is the young god Eros, Paying no tribute to power, Seeing no evil in beauty, Full of compassion. Once having found the beloved, However sorry or woeful, However scornful of loving, Little it matters.

For I am eager, and the flame of life Burns quickly in the fragile lamp of clay. Passion and love and longing and hot tears Consume this mortal Sappho, and too soon A great wind from the dark will blow upon me, And I be no more found in the fair world, For all the search of the revolving moon And patient shine of everlasting stars.

"Yet, for all the roses, All the flutes and lovers, Doubt not she was lonely As the sea, whose cadence Haunts the world for ever."

When I have departed, Say but this behind me, "Love was all her wisdom, All her care. "Well she kept love's secret,— Dared and never faltered,— Laughed and never doubted Love would win. "Let the world's rough triumph Trample by above her, She is safe forever From all harm. "In a land that knows not Bitterness nor sorrow, She has found out all Of truth at last."

My lover smiled, "O friend, ask not The journey's end, nor whence we are.

"Lo, these are wiser than the wise. And not for all our questioning Shall we discover more than joy, Nor find a better thing than love! " Let pass the banners and the spears, The hate, the battle, and the greed; For greater than all gifts is peace, And strength is in the tranquil mind."

How strange is love, O my lover! With what enchantment and power Does it not come upon mortals, Learned or heedless! How far away and unreal, Faint as blue isles in a sunset Haze-golden, all else of life seems, Since I have known thee!

In the quiet garden world, Gold sunlight and shadow leaves Flicker on the wall. And the wind, a moment since, With rose-petals strewed the path And the open door. Now the moon-white butterflies Float across the liquid air, Glad as in a dream; And, across thy lover's heart, Visions of one scarlet mouth With its maddening smile.

Love is so strong a thing, The very gods must yield, When it is welded fast With the unflinching truth. Love is so frail a thing, A word, a look, will kill. Oh lovers, have a care How ye do deal with love.

Then I became as that shepherd Loved by Selene on Latmus, Once when her own summer magic Took hold upon her With a sweet madness, and thenceforth Her mortal lover must wander Over the wide world for ever, Like one enchanted.

Loving Heart, There must be an end to summer, And the flute be laid aside. On a day the frost will come, Walking through the autumn world, Hushing all the brave endeavour Of the crickets in the grass.

Frail as dew upon the grass Or the spindrift of the sea, Out of nothing they were fashioned And to nothing must return. Nay, but something of thy love, Passion, tenderness, and joy, Some strange magic of thy beauty, Some sweet pathos of thy tears, Must imperishably cling To the cadence of the words, Like a spell of lost enchantments Laid upon the hearts of men. Wild and fleeting as the notes Blown upon a woodland pipe, They must haunt the earth with gladness And a tinge of old regret.

#sappho #poetry #poetry of sappho #literature #quotes

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tespuco · 5 years

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PotC Liveblog: Curse of the Black Pearl

CotBP is one of my ‘forever films’ for sure - every time I rewatch it I not only feel the same sense of wonder and delight as the first time but invariably discover new things to love and squee over as well.

I would love to learn more about Elizabeth as a child: this lonely, solemn girl who feels something perverse in her thrill at pirate stories and gallows humor, yet who gravely takes on the duty of looking after young William Turner because she wants to be good, too. (@dollsome-does-tumblr‘s Elizabeth-centric, post-CotBP fic Shrouded Heart explores this ambivalence in her self-concept with heart-wrenching emotional realism)

Wow, Will was doomed from the start, wasn’t he? I would be too if I were a 12-year old piece of half-drowned human driftwood waking up to a miniature guardian angel who softly murmurs, “I’m watching over you” before I drift back into unconsciousness

Framing Elizabeth’s memory of seeing the Black Pearl and meeting Will as a dream, one that impels her to put on the medallion, suggests fate or some other supernatural influence at work - a nifty way for writers to sidestep accusations of Contrived Coincidences and call it Destiny instead!

Keira Knightley is so beautiful hELP

Awww, Will is so proud of his handiwork! It’s interesting because the film puts a fair amount of emphasis on it early on, his skill and pride in not just wielding swords but forging them - only to tell us later that he’s really a pirate by blood and at heart. I like it when fics like fried_flamingo & salr323′s At World’s End: Redux lean into Will’s identity as a blacksmith and extrapolate from it an affinity for land/earth/balance/creation as opposed to the sea’s wild potential for destruction. (He lost his father to the sea and to piracy; he never learned to love either.)

My god everyone’s layered in buttoned-up and corseted finery in the fucking TROPICS no wonder Elizabeth passed out (ngl despite the ‘Caribbean’ in the title and visiting the Disney ride in New Orleans Square, I remember stupidly assuming Port Royal was part of England, not Jamaica; at 9 yrs old my geography was shit and I had yet to learn what imperialism was ok)

“A ship with black sails that’s crewed by the damned and captained by a man so evil that hell itself spat him back out.” shiver me timbers now that’s how you tell a ghost story

“If he were telling the truth, he wouldn’t have told us” has the same antimonious energy as Winnie-the-Pooh going, “Well, it’s a good thing I noticed it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have seen it”

This is definitely tmi but in retrospect the rescue scene played a formative part in my (bi)sexual awakening: for a long time my go-to pubescent fantasies involved near-drownings followed by hypersexualized resuscitation attempts and frantic uncomfortable sex on wet rocks in damp subterranean caves

Omg I just realized Elizabeth’s scene with Jack on the docks mirrors the one she had on deck Will in the flashback: a (wo)man overboard recovered, rescuer hovering over a supine body and fingering the pirate medallion around his/her neck, love at first sight

“One good deed is not enough to redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness.” “Though it seems enough to condemn him.” Basically “no good deed goes unpunished” but with style

16 years later and the swordfight between Jack and Will holds up as an iconic example of swashbuckling fight choreo. I also love how the exchange establishes the Jack/Will dynamic: the former as a kind of ironic mentor (“Excellent form. But how’s your footwork?”), the latter as an unwilling pupil who nevertheless mostly plays along

“I practice with them three hours a day.” “You need to find yourself a girl, mate.” Raunchy Shakespearean-grade comedy at its finest (along with “This sweet, proliferous bouquet that is Tortuga…What do you think?” “It’ll linger.”)

“This shot is not meant for you.” I love the hints we get of Jack’s darker side: he keeps his bitterness close and his grudges closer; for 10 years he saved that bullet for one man, refusing to expend it in any number of life-threatening situations in the interim; he drawls, “Worry about your own fortunes, gentlemen. The deepest circle of Hell is reserved for betrayers and mutineers,” like a witch uttering a curse. A dishonest man, methinks, would not feel the stab of betrayal so deeply.

The running joke of Will not getting recognized for his skills and earnest efforts is what makes Norrington’s parting words to him at the end so satisfying: “This is a beautiful sword. I would expect the man who made it to show the same care and devotion in every aspect of his life.” (NORRINGTON KNEW IT WAS HIM ALONG BUT WAS TOO JEALOUS TO EVER PRAISE HIM TO HIS FACE that petty little shit lmao)

I remember looking up the definition of ‘acquiesce’ after watching CotBP as a kid, so Barbossa had a direct hand in expanding my 9-year old vocabulary.

Competent, hyper-focused!Jack at the wheel with an unholy gleam in his eye as he gets drenched in a torrential downpour is my kind of Byronic hero

I prefer Jack Sparrow’s backstory to remain a loose collection of rumors and half-truths jumbled together even in his own memory, but I DO want to know how Jack and Gibbs met, how the former earned the latter’s (mostly) steadfast loyalty. I want to eavesdrop on all the inebriated conversational musings they’ve shared over a bottle of rum, whether topside on the decks of a ship not the Pearl or shouted above/muttered below the ruckus of a Tortuga tavern.

I’d also read/watch a prequel about the mutiny. “He plays things closer to the vest now. And a hard-learned lesson it was.” WHO HURT YOU JACK

Well obviously Barbossa did, but I still have so many questions! How did a younger, more trusting Jack earn the ire of his first mate and crew, to the point where they’d stage a mutiny? Then again, to hear Gibbs tell it, Barbossa simply appealed to Jack’s sense of fairness; perhaps in their unadulterated greed they saw Jack’s honest streak as a vulnerability to exploit? Or was it something in Jack’s manner of captaincy that fomented discontent? Idk, I can’t tell based on the way the crew jeers at “Gents, you all remember Captain Jack Sparrow?” whether their antipathy smacks more of derision or vitriol.

“Mr. Gibbs? …Jack? Jack Sparrow?” Elizabeth must be SO confused by these blasts from her distant and more recent past: who knows when Gibbs left Norrington’s employ, but the last time she saw Jack he had her in chains and at gunpoint, and now apparently he’s conspiring with Will??

I’ve always been kind of baffled by the cabin scene between Elizabeth and Will. What is she apologizing for? Taking the medallion and not telling him? Or for telling him and making him realize his father was a pirate?

Also her tearful, “Because I was afraid that you were a pirate. That would have been awful” is the biggest, bald-faced lie if I’ve ever heard one. She took an interest in him BECAUSE she thought he was a pirate (although I do think young Elizabeth had been afraid FOR him, after Gibbs’ pantomime of the hangman’s noose)

“daft like Jack” should be my Jack/Elizabeth/Will OT3 tag

Ah, back when PotC incorporated visual gags to spice up their action sequences instead of building the equivalent of a Rube-Goldberg machine around a single, unfunny gag. Compare: Gibbs’ canteen making its unlikely way from the Interceptor to the Pearl and back as an accompaniment to the battle and Jack’s breakout from his cell VS the overextended Tortuga sequence in DMC where Jack weaves in and out of a brawl to no apparent purpose except to try on different hats and then exit the tavern.

“Though it does seem a shame to lose something so fine, don’t it? …So I’ll be having that dress back before you go.” Barbossa is despicable and Geoffrey Rush delivers his lines with such RELISH

I will squee over the island scene & its deleted segments at length in a separate post so for now I’ll just say: Elizabeth is obviously a huge Jack Sparrow stan and she’s doing a piss-poor job of hiding it

Listen it’s easy to overlook Norrington’s sense of duty and decency in the face of the stick up his butt and his bouts of extreme pettiness. But the fact is that Jack’s attempt to manipulate and appeal to his ambition fails. Because the Commodore is no Barbossa - he’s a fine man who serves others, not only himself; who cares whether a woman’s acceptance of his proposal is less than sincere; who wouldn’t have risked his men ambushing the Pearl’s crew had he known about the curse (last two courtesy of the deleted scenes on the Dauntless).

Now that I’m paying closer attention I’m just blown away by the careful consideration in Jack’s plans. He’s playing both sides to further his own goal of enacting revenge at minimal risk to himself, but he looks after the unwitting parties he involves in the process, too: while the Royal Navy occupies the undead pirates from the safety of their long range cannons, Jack can intervene to save Will, use him to break the curse, and kill Barbossa. All the good guys win! (He couldn’t have foreseen the Trojan Horse or the en masse submarine attack; nor Norrington’s pettiness in defying Jack’s instructions to man cannons that would’ve blown the undead into smithereens.)

Exhibit B: “Now, to be quite honest with you, there’s still a slight risk for those aboard the Dauntless, which includes the future Mrs. Commodore.” Disregard his insouciant delivery here, and you get Jack telling the whole, unvarnished truth!!! “What do you have to lose?” he asks Norrington, who brushes him off: “Nothing I’d lament being rid of.” It’s JACK who reminds him that for all their precautions, the ambush might put Elizabeth in danger. Jack knows about the curse, and after being marooned on an island with her, he knows Elizabeth will do whatever’s necessary to save Will. So he finds a way to ensure not only that she won’t interfere, but that she’ll be kept safe from harm!! I’ll never be over it

And Murtogg’s “You think he wasn’t telling the truth?” line is such a great callback to their early sketch as Rosencrantz and Guildenstern on the docks of Port Royal. These dimwits happen to know Jack does tell the truth, expecting no one to believe him. His own exhortations on the subject notwithstanding, Jack’s real trickery lies in rarely telling the whole truth, letting people make their own assumptions, and giving them enough rope by which to hang themselves.

Governor Swann is such a darling, the ultimate doting father. It’s easy to assume he doesn’t get Elizabeth at all, but he’s no idiot. He rightly suspects she only agreed to marry Norrington to save Will, and while he’s not above nudging her in that direction (“I believe you made a very good decision today. Couldn’t be more proud of you.”), he’s also not about to let his only daughter bargain away her happiness for the sake of his OTP. (And his face of exasperated affection at Jack’s hanging, when he realizes she only pretended to faint as a diversion! Notice the lack of surprise in his expression: that’s the face of a father who is all too used to her Pulling This Kind of Shit)

Jack keeps popping up like a bad penny and both Norrington and Barbossa are so appalled every time lol

The sequence where Will breaks the curse and Jack shoots Barbossa and Elizabeth jerks like she’s the one who was shot is just - *chef’s kiss* the CHOREOGRAPHY! the CAMERAWORK! the EDITING!

“I feel…cold.” *a single apple rolls out of Barbossa’s dead hands* Can you believe a summer blockbuster movie invented poetic justice tell your English professors

“If all I have achieved here is that the hangman will earn two pairs of boots instead of one, so be it.” Ugh Will is sooo not my type but he’s so DASHING and GOOD no wonder Elizabeth covets him. What a hero

“My place is between you and Jack.” Ohhh you know what I would love to track the main characters’ alignment arcs throughout the series. Here Will’s situating himself as the Chaotic Good between Jack’s Chaotic Neutral and Norrington’s Lawful Good. But I would argue he’s still pretty Lawful and, even under Jack’s tutelage, only resorts to Chaos in extremis; meanwhile Jack flits between Chaotic Good and Chaotic Neutral; Elizabeth’s arc is similar except it’s unidirectional; and without the Law at his back Norrington spirals into Neutral Evil.

It’s the Sparrabeth shipper in me but the last line of the movie is Jack singing a song that Elizabeth taught him. (*Cutler Beckett voice* “We’ve had dealings in the past. And we’ve each left our mark on the other.”) For a fic about what Jack leaves her, may I redirect you to Shrouded Heart by dollsome, linked above - and this brain dump comes full circle!

#this is already too long and it's...only the tip of the iceberg that is my potc feels #i've reserved my more effusive observations for illustrated commentary #stay tuned for comments & tag novels on edits i've found of my fave scenes #pirates of the caribbean #the long and short of the meta #t-recs

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axelbro17 · 5 years

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The story begins a few million years after the formation of Spherus Magna.

Inside the remnants of the great being robot, Makuta planted two canisters with his creations, two engineers that were made with the purpose of rebuilding the Makuta empire and rule the universe in the name of Teridax. Their name were Mysterio and Magnuros. Mysterio was a noble warrior that believed in inter-species equality and peace through unity, while Magnuros was a Tyrannic gladiator that believed in peace through tyranny and opression.

Mysterio was naive enough not to suspect his brother of any dark and devious plans. They both created 9 makuta together in the following order.

Zerkon(the prototype and most unstable mentally, sociopathic tendencies, considered to be the most dangerous)

Zinus(Zerkon's twin brother, calm and collected, could generate chains from inside his arms in a Spider-Man fashion)

Taknor(A brilliant scientist that has a bigger ego than himself, he granted himself powers by constantly upgrading his biomechanical body)

Voltrax(a honorable swordsman that believed in honor to the end)

Mesanok(A mutant with unstable powers, his right half was red and had explosive powers, his left half was green and could produce flamable acid)

"D'compose"(he was able to regenerate at a subatomic level and at a fast pace)

Xenoth(two headed and super strong) Rekan(much like Umbra , his feet had wheels that granted him super stregth

and Arana(the only female of the group, considered the weakest).

Mysterio eventually overheard his plan and decided to act against it by talking to the Great Spirit himself, being blessed with Teridax' Krahkaan, he was able to sneak inside the OoMN's Vault, without being detected. He communicated with Mata nui and was granted 8 elemental stones to create a new generation of toa.

Lancelot-Captain of the Ta-koro guard, born to be a warrior(Toa of Fire)

Sentinel-former archeologist, an advanced matoran prototype created by Arthaka himself(Toa of Iron)

Botan:former musician of the Le-koro choir, a treehugger at heart(Toa of Plantlife)

Korax: Chief Medical officer of the Ko-koro medical institute, he gained the ability to fly once turned into a toa in order to provide quicker medical assistance on the field(Toa of Ice)

Nidalee: she was a former Po-koro athlete with incredible fighting skills(Po-Koro)

Horvath: worked as an archer for the Ko-Koro defense team, incredible accuracy and calm under tough situations(Toa of Ice)

Luxanna: a biology teacher in Ga-koro, she admired Nokama's work and dreamed about becoming a toa herself someday , even though her kindness might give her a disadvantage.(Toa of water).

Suletu:probably the most loveable Le-koran, He used to be a bartender, very sociable and loyal to his people.(Toa of air)

On the course of 1 year he trained them to become warriors in every sort of the way. The OoMN lead by Helryx welcomed Mysterio and the new toa as their protectors.In the meantime, Magnuros assasinated Zerkon by shooting him in the back of the head since he became too self-aware and intelligent to manipulate, and disposed of his body by sending it to the southest continent.

Mysterio did however have an asset in the Makuta team, Arana has been secretly providing information about the grand return of the Makuta empire and the day of the attack

Everything went downhill in their clash. Half the toa team mysteriously(Horvath,Suletu,Luxanna and Sentinel) vanquished, the makuta were close to winning , the remaining 4 and Mysterio could barely hold eachother up. As Magnuros was about to shoot his brother down , Arana jumped in and took the blow full-on, dying on impact.That gave Mysterio the chance to strike by unleashing the demonic powers of his mask, leaving his older brother almost done for.

Magnuros: are you not going to finish what you started brother? Isn't this what you wanted

Mysterio: the universe is said to be impartial and in balance, however it always picks the good side of the spectrum...even if you think you are victorious....the universe will make it short-lived, farewell...until we meet again.

He left the makuta lair carrying Arana's body,followed by his remaining team, a scene that would haunt Magnetron for the rest of his existence.

Later on, after celebrating the bittersweet victory against the Makuta, The Great Spirit rewarded Mysterio's noble soul by rebuilding him into a Toa of Shadows because "Even Darkness, can create a path of Light"-MN-2011 years ASM(After Spherus Magna)

In the makuta lair, as Magnuros is recovering after the battle, his second in command welcomes his Fallen leader

Taknor:"You fought bravely my Lord, you've put quite a show"

Magnuros:"I do not need your pitty Taknor....It's time for things to change around here"

Taknor: "I'm glad we can agree...this will make things so much easier for me" *He takes Magnetron's sword and impales it's bearer owner right in the chest and through the Throne"

Magnuros: hanghh! W-what have you..done?!

Taknor: my maker...you are weak, you gave birth to such unique and twisted creations....but you...you are not worthy of leading our kind to Victory...I will not allow failure...for I shall take command of my brothers....

During the following 4 years, The OoMN created a task force lead by Sergeant Curanos Peddlestick, Super soldiers created from matoran volunteers with the purpose of becoming law enforcers and military teams for their Toa Generals , seeing as there aren't enough Toa to defend the whole matoran population(pretty much a Jedi-Clone Troopers relationship)

Although one of them wasnt that keen on Taking orders from toa, that being Vespirion , Lance's lieutenant. He became power hungry, so he decided to steal the mask of life and use it for "The greater good". However, the mask sensed his villanous tendencies and mutated him into a horrifying monster, able to control soundwaves and generate sonic pulses(since he was originally a matoran of sonics before recruitment). Not only that but the mask's power burst created a shockwave that spread over a radius of 1000 miles. So far it is yet unknown if it caused any damage. Sergeant Curanos spotted Vespirion and took him head on.

Serge: "you bit more than yer teeth could nibble on, ain't it lad?Look what greed brings ya. Yer mammy not gonna love that face , but don't'cha worry, after I'm done kicking yer bum, she won't even recognise ya"

The fight lasted quite a fair bit, until Serge gave him the final blow, Vespirion however managed to flee, despite his bad state.

After this incident, Helryx makes a disturbing statement: "To whoever decides to rebel against my will for peace, shall suffer grace consequences, today one of our most trusted soldiers became one of our greatest enemy, thus I want him to face justice accordingly. Once we find him, he shall be executed for his crimes"

The matoran society became disgusted by their supposed protector , claims such as "We are safe from others but not from her" and "Our Guardian is also our Executioner" sprouted an outrage , thus a lot of digging lead to exposing a lot of Helryx's shady acts during her time as head leader of the OoMN. The matoran demanded the choice of a new leader to go against her corruptive and manipulative ways. Thus the OoMN unanimously voted in favour of Mysterio as their leader due to his acts of bravery , selflessness and code of honor. Helryx was then exiled from the Matorans' land and found shelter on Arthaka's new island.

Later on , The Shadowed one sent a letter towards Taknor and the Makuta Brotherhood "I have a business Proposition for you and your Makuta, meet me at the coordinations on the back of the letter so we can discuss like two civilised beings". Of course, Taknor agreed to meet him, the location however was the Fortress of Odina itself(The new fortress got named after the island they were back in the days of the Matoran universe). However the meeting didn't go as well planned.

Taknor: "how could you possibly believe that we'd be interested in collaborating with low-lives like you, you are nothing but Spineless mercenaries"

Tso:"You dare insult me...right under the roof of my home, the place I welcomed you in as if you were part of our beautiful family, and you step on my generosity as if it were a rodent! Here's my current business proposition... I challenge you to fight me....If you win, this entire place and every non-living thing is all yours, but ....If I win.....all of you shall become my property....what do you say? 7 Makuta, against poor old me and 6 of my strongest Darkhunters..."

Taknor: "you've got a deal merchant..."

Unfortunately for Taknor, his cocky attitude ended up being his downfall. One by one his makuta were being heavily wounded by their Dark Hunter challengers. Taknor took a serious beating, Broken bones, massive open wounds, his right hand completely chopped off, he was the last one standing.

Tso:"I'm ready to claim my prize Taknor...I want to celebrate already...Quite admirable, you trully are the strongest amongst them...that's good enough for me, you'd make a great asset....Darkhunters, we have our Prize....Kill them all..."

Taknor:"I will not allow you to do such thing to my brothers! I will not stop fighting!"

Tso:"....but Spare Taknor....He is one of us now.....He will learn the hard way about how actions have consequences..."*with a quick swing of his staff , he knocks Taknor off his feet*"I want him fixed by tomorrow...His discipline lessons need no further delay"

As Taknor helplessly witnessed the execution of his brothers, He sworn to himself, that he will defeat his new Master and claim his empire for himself.

*on the course of this current year, a few more Darkhunters join the Darkhunter Legion*

Darkhunters so far :

-Daxidous

-Gazestealer

-Larsika

-Pelgrax

-Pincer

-Screecher

-Taknor

-Tetra

-Tyrannus

-Vespirion(found, repaired and recruited)

-Virus

With his men and women ready , Tso started the first phase of his plan to conquer the industry of Spherus Magna, that being "Intimidation". He sent his most trusted darkhunters to send havoc among 5 of the 6 regions of the new Island of Mata nui:

-"Screecher"-Bombed Le-koro with zamor spheres

-Pelgrax-Flooded Po-koro with his water powers

-Tetra-Sunk Ga-Koro with her brute strength

-Daxiodus- caused an avalanche over Ko-koro

-Vespirion- created a sonic pulse that collapsed Onu-koro's entire cave system.

They are known as the ,Darkhunter Justice Division"(DhJD for short)- this group, comprised of the most loyal hunters of the Shadowed one were trained to be capable of disposing of any darkhunters that turn or intend to turn against their leader, either through Rebellion,Lack of loyalty and beliefs of any kind.

Although the plan was a success, not all of them came back. During his Mission, Vespirion was directly confronted by his arch enemy, Sergeant Curanos Peddlestick and didn't make it out alive. Vespirion's lifeless body was found at the blocked entrace of the cave system.

The next day was to be the second phase of the plan, to slowly make the Matoran, toa and OoMN lose faith, the "Assault on Ta-koro" , where the Mask of Light is kept safe since Takanuva's passing into the afterlife.

Luckily the toa predicted their next move , so they gathered all in Ta-koro, together with their troops and Serge. But not even their assumptions were good enough, even though they had a strong number, that didn't help them.

The Darkhunters came well armed, plowing through their defenses with ease. As the toa and troops kept fighting , Tso kept making his way up to the tower. Right when the Darkhunters seemed to lose, a new face showed up , a darkhunter no one has seen before, he was very skilled, strong and vicious. He easily cut down the dozens of soldiers until he came face to face with The Sergeant himself, unfortunately, not even his years of military service kept him safe. Once he was weakened, the Darkhunter raised his wrist blade and with one fell swoop, cut his right forearm and right lower leg.

???: I have to admit full of regrer.. Sergeant...I expected a better fight

Serge: Tell me mistah smarty pants, who be the sonovabohrok Standing in front of me eye?

Scourge: I am Scourge, and my face is the last thing you'll ever see my Illiterate yet charming friend...

However two troops interfered , getting badly wounded by one of Scourge's landmines, giving Serge the time to shoot a harpoon that got it's rope tangled up on Scourge's foot sending him away at a safe distance. They both knew it won't be their last encounter. Scourge kept fighting until he got face to face with Mysterio, he was about to overpower the toa of shadows until a trooper pushed him out of harm's way, which sadly ended in the soldier's forearms getting severed completely off.

Scourge:"This loyalty is admirable but that won't make me forgive you for what you've just done..."

In the meantime, Lance and Tso are having a serious beat down over the mask of light. Both are heavily wounded, most notably , Tso's tail has been completely ripped off by Lance's bare hands and sheer strength. And Lance has a big stab wound in his chest.

Tso: you have nowhere else to go toa...surrender the mask and I might let you leave

Lance: "I am a warrior till the end, but a repulsive creature like you Shadowed one is too low for that word...only someone as dishonorable as you would use their people for monetary gain...you did that with your own species...you enslaved the Steltians and killed your only friend..."

Tso: "<<Ancient>> had a painless death, you however will not!"

The shadowed one blows a hole in Lance's chest, making him loose balance and blood, he leans over the edge of the tower, and lets out one final battlecry"Unity....Duty....DESTINY!" he leans back and throws himself over the edge of the central tower , holding the mask of light tightly, with his final moments, he opens a portal using his Kualsi(mask of teleportation) and tosses the mask through it, in a safe place that only he knows of. As he plunges down the tower, all eyes are on him, toa, dark hunters matoran, all watch his body crash down lifeless.

The shadowed one orders the Darkhunters to fall back since Lance's final act turned their victory into defeat, but one thing's for sure, the toa suffered a lot of losses.

Mysterio:"how many were we before the attack?"

Korax: 2.000 troops, 5 toa, 21.000 matoran

Mysterio: afterwards?

Korax:"*sigh*..1995 dead troopers, 5 injuired badly....1 dead toa...4 alive...aand 50 mildly injuired matoran, no matoran casualties luckily.

Mysterio:"The remaining troops...I want names."

Korax:" Sergeant Curanos of Kini-nui-lost right arm and right leg , Lieutenant Herrandra of Ta-koro-she has a major concussion , Gravion of Po-koro-lost both arms , Rackus of Le-Koro- lost left arm from Scourge's grenade, Reiner of Le-koro lost his right arm to the same explosion"

Mysterio:"I want you to do everything possible to save their lives, and have Sergeant promote them to Members of the Order of Mata Nui"

Korax:" I'll do my best"

Mysterio:"Lance..."

Korax:" he died before his body hit the ground....in mid-fall....no matter how early we would've gotten to him...there was nothing we could've done..."

Mysterio:"I wish I could say that we don't have time to mourn our loses....but the sacrifice was too great...we need to pay tribute to the brave souls we lost today"

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kaibutsushidousha · 6 years

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If you had to choose 8 characters from Danganronpa to represent one of the 7 Deadly Sins along with the original sin to participate in a Zanki Zero-like scenario, who would you choose and what would each of their dungeons that tie into their sin be?

That was really difficult and I can’t say I’m satisfied with my answers. If someone has better alternatives, I’ll be happy to hear them.

Sloth: If I answered this before playing, the obvious answer would be Yumeno, but that’s not how Zanki Zero rolls. Instead of an actual lazy character, we need a character whose biggest life regret is related is tied to sloth. My first idea for that is going for the route the actual game did: interpreting sloth as negligence and going with Mioda’s regret for her band’s break up, since she didn’t try to make any huge changes in her style to keep the group together. Unfortunately that doesn’t work because:A) That’s not a big enough deal to be called a sin.B) Mioda is too emotionally mature about her regret to be a Zanki Zero character. You could argue so is Setouchi, but the consequences of her pride big enough to warrant her dungeon.

Next canditate is Ki-bo harming Iidabashi out of pure carelessness, but robots are not clonable, so he’s also out. It’s not impossible, but rebuilding a robot is really lame compared to actual organic cloning.

My final answer be Saihara not doing proper research on his culprit before exposing his crime. I didn’t want to go with this one since Higurashi is already somewhat similar to Saihara, but I’m kinda out of options here. The dungeon would be the victim’s house (assuming that was the crime scene) and the boss would be the culprit (with the culprit being one of the Creatures found in earlier floors).

Wrath: Hoshi would be a perfect candidate for this one but I’ll leave him out of this one because I think he fits better somewhere else.

The next best option is adapting Kuzuryuu’s backstory with chapter 2 content, so his sin would be about how his angry personality mislead Peko into believing he wanted Koizumi killed for hiding evidence for Natsumi’s murder, causing Peko to face the legal consequences of her murder. The dungeon would be wherever Koizumi died in this version (it would still look identical to chapter 2′s island). I don’t know who would the boss be for this because Natsumi, Peko, Koizumi and Satou all sound like very viable candidates. Maybe this Wrath dungeon could be an extra hard 6th or 7th dungeon with multiple bosses, with Peko being the last one of them.

Pride: Togami and Kirigiri are both very viable options, the former for his overall very Renji-like personality and the latter for how her Kirigiri detective pride was a big factor on her hatred for her father, but, as I mentioned in Wrath, Hoshi’s got the most Zanki Zero-appropriate backstory out of all the DanganRonpa cast. I put him under pride over wrath because his whole tragedy started when he let his athlete sense of honor get over his head and broke the mafia’s fixed gambling schemes. The dungeon is obviously the mafia ship where the tournament was held, which is good because I love ship dungeons. We can call it the Belle Moa for reference’s sake. The boss would be the boss.

Gluttony: This one is difficult. None of the characters have a big food-related past, aside from maybe Owari and the Impostor. Owari did unpleasant things to feed her siblings, but she doesn’t fit in with the direction of Zanki Zero because her coping mechanism is not caring about anything, and the Impostor doesn’t have any backstory. The only option I can see left is interpreting the sin of gluttony as being so absorbed in indulging in your treats that you leave others to starve, which correlates to how Amami got so engrossed by his adventures that he fail to notice a sister following him into dangerous territory at least 12 times. The Gluttony dungeon would a forest dungeon like Saruyama or maybe a mountain dungeon and the boss would be the first sister he lost.

Envy: Oowada’s backstory is almost as fit for this as Hoshi’s is for pride. The streets where they raced is the dungeon and Daiya is the boss. I personally Oowada’s case is more interesting since it was the gang’s pressure that caused his envy, but Ruruka is just as viable of a candidate. I can’t pin down an exact place to be her dungeon, but the boss would very obviously be Kimura.

If you think that this approach to envy is too straightforward (which I don’t, since Zen’s wrath was also pretty straightforward), we can flip it around and have Yumeno getting a dungeon for being the envied party rather than the envious, since her master seems to have about abandoned her out of envy for her greater talent. As much as I love Yumeno, I wouldn’t want this one, since it makes the protagonist of the dungeon too innocent, like it was with Higurashi. But on the plus side, if you make the stage of the Magician of the Year award a castle-theme magic museum, you would have a pretty awesome dungeon.

Lust: This sin is extremely easy to make a case for both Fukawa and Shinguuji. Since regretting your sins, even if they aren’t necessarily your fault, is a big theme in Zanki Zero, Fukawa is the better choice for this one. Shinguuji would have a cooler dungeon with the remote village that caused his near-death experience, but Fukawa is still overall preferable. Her dungeon could be a Shikoku subway station, similar to subways in Setouchi’s dungeon, and the boss would be Geno’s first victim. This would have to be a really early dungeon because Fukawa wouldn’t be able to hide Geno for very long.

Greed: The very first thing I thought when I got this ask was Hagakure’s backstory. He got himself hunted by the Kuzuryuu because he wanted some easy extra cash. Pure and simple greed. Natsumi being the boss could also lead to some interesting interaction with Kuzuryuu (although I still think placing her as one of the many bosses in the Wrath dungeon is more meaningful). But ultimately, I decided against Hagakure because I have another idea I like better.

Before I go into that, I think Celes deserves to be mentioned, since she already (supposedly) ruined many people’s lives for money (and we saw at least two of them), but I think she’s too lacking on the regret factor to fit in on a Zanki Zero scenario.

Now then, to my favorite greed idea, I’ll stray away from the overdone money-related sin interpretation and interpret greed as just strongly wanting something, anything. Maizono already stated that she has done unpleasant stuff for the sake of her dream and we’ve seen first hand how ruthless she can get to protect it, and that’s there some unexplored aspects of her character to take from that, so I consider her the best choice for greed. Ayaka could be the boss, but if we leave her as one of the final stages, we can have a very interesting battle against all 4 band girls simultaneously as the boss. The dungeon could be either a concert hall or Nekuro Middle School.

Original Sin: This answer could easily change since I don’t know what Sachika’s original sin entails, but Eva’s was eating the forbidden fruit of knowledge. In other words, she used unacceptable methods to improve beyond what humans could. That’s an excellent metaphor for the Izuru Kamukura Project, in my opinion. Hinata is a character I think suits the final Stage, and Kibougamine is an equally adequate final dungeon (with some floors covering the school proper and some covering the secret labs). The final boss can be Izuru Kamukura (the school founder), and when he is the defeated, you get to fight the real final boss, Izuru Kamukura (the other Hinata clone with a different x-Key).

That leaves the line-up as Saihara, Kuzuryuu, Hoshi, Amami, Oowada, Fukawa, Maizono and Hinata. That’s 6 boys and 2 girls, so, to match with Zanki Zero’s 4:4 gender balance, I will switch Kuzuryuu and Peko’s places (since the backstory of the sin also applies to her to some extent) and choose Ruruka over Oowada.

Final line-up: Saihara, Peko, Hoshi, Amami, Ruruka, Fukawa, Maizono and Hinata.

The dungeon order can be the same as the original game, just switching Wrath and Lust’s positions.

#zanki zero

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