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sebastianswallows · 8 months ago

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Feyd-Rautha — sad headcanons

�� WARNINGS: angst, mentions of kidnapping, child molestation, mentions of Feyd's child by Margot (Marie Fenring), it's just dark and depressing I'm sorry

— A/N: @localravenclaw asked for headcanons yesterday, here you go girly, no returns. This is a hybrid of book and movie Feyd.

His first memories are of ice floes on the black waters of Lankiveil, fitting together like the blocks inside his puzzle box. The wailing of sea creatures underneath the waves. Enormous weapons mounted on ships leaving harbour. The deep bell chimes that floated on the air, colouring it golden, splitting time in measured pieces like a great grandfather clock, from the temple of Ohashi.

He remembers playing in the sea foam. Duelling his playmates with driftwood they picked up in abandoned ships. Filling the nests of rock turtles with the pearls that rolled up on the shore. There were so many that they spilt between his fingers.

He remembers gathering stiff crystalline flowers which grew on the rock their castle sat on, but not what they were called...

And he remembers making his mother a necklace of blue spiral shells, with the help of her handmaids. He wonders now and then what became of it, and then he stops himself.

Childhood memories are too tainted with what came afterwards. With what cut it in two halves.

With the grim understanding, in hindsight, of what his uncle’s touches meant during his first days on Giedi Prime. Skinny little Feyd. Did your father never feed you? How pretty you are, just as he was as a boy. Did you fall and hurt yourself here? No? Are you sure? I can feel a little dent where one shouldn’t be, yes, yes, right between your bones.

They seemed like comforting caresses at the time.

It was always surface touches on the thin and tender canvas of his skin, dry kisses, fondlings with an almost anatomical curiosity to them, and always with rough laughter resounding in the halls.

Many years passed before he realised, through hints gathered here and there, that his uncle was diseased. Longer still to find out that it was a Bene Gesserit who did it. Sexually transmitted, requiring constant treatment, and the cause of his enormous bloat.

Many pieces fell into place in the puzzle box at the back of his mind then. Why his uncle never showed to him the same sort of close attention he showed to the slave boys. Why it was always those large fingers heavy with rings that traversed his body, and traitorously gentle kisses, and long lingering glances once he let Feyd go.

How strange he felt, after being brought up to hate the Bene Gesserits and fear them, when he became conscious of a sort of gratitude he owed the witch for protecting him, beyond the grave, from the worst of his uncle’s attentions.

He remembers the first time he fell sick on Giedi Prime. It was during his first month there, when his body couldn’t take the toxic fumes and the industrial meat. His body revolted, flushing with an allergic reaction.

And he remembers his uncle’s visits, a few of them. How he slipped his fat hand between his thighs to feel them shivering, sweaty with fever, and laughed. The doctors around his bed laughed too, not daring to do anything else. Even at the age of 11, Feyd thought there was something wrong about it, but he had nobody to turn to, nobody to ask. How stupid he feels now.

And then there was a time, a broad swath of his adolescence, when he was planning quite seriously to kill the Baron.

He had devised a naïve scheme involving one of those awful oil baths and a stone lid, and he allowed himself to fantasize that if some day, for some reason, a Bene Gesserit would come, she could help him gain control of all the slaves through mind tricks, like the witches were rumoured to do. And he could escape with her, hidden in the soft folds of her dress while, in his imagination, the palace was boiling with fear and revolution upon the Baron’s death.

He grew out of these childish fantasies at around age 15. Nobody was coming to help him.

It was then that he started taking the arena more seriously. Killing slaves felt good. Feeling warm blood on his hands felt good. And it felt good to be so close to a human body while someone else suffered. It filled something in him he never knew needed filling.

His first taste of spice was around this time too. His uncle deemed him ready. It tasted like cinnamon, but never the same after that. And the dreams…

The dreams that came true scared him. Fate predetermined, fate out of his reach. His hands around a dozen throats could not make him feel in control after that.

But the other dreams, the ones that never came to be, those took him beyond fear, beyond anger, to a pit inside his soul. Demons swirled around him, teasing, tormenting him with the way his life could never be.

Dreams of impossible futures are the ones he hates the most. Dreams where he is wed to an Atrides bride, where his son sits on the Imperial Throne, where their enemies are humbled, and absolute power brings peace.

Feyd wakes up still on Giedi Prime, still under his uncle’s fat thumb, still with his concubines to pacify him while his true destiny is nowhere in sight. And when he does dream of a Bene Gesserit, she is not there to kill his uncle or to help him escape. She’s there to use him.

And sometimes, Feyd dreams of a little girl with a sweet and simple name, with her hair in dark ringlets, and sullen eyes like his. She runs through blue and silver halls, she plays in a field of flowers, she breathes the salty sea air of a distant planet and meditates upon the cliffs. He dreams of never meeting her, and wakes up wondering why that troubles him so much.

#Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen #Feyd-Rautha #Feyd-Rautha imagine #Feyd-Rautha headcanons #Dune #Dune part 2 #Dune imagine #Dune headcanons #sswallow;headcanons #sswallow;made a thing #Feyd #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha headcanons

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outofgloom · 1 year ago

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VUATA

"The…the ship," the Vo-Matoran gasped, dragging herself up onto the rocks.

She collapsed, mask down. Waves crashed against the jagged shoreline. A few remnants of shattered debris drifted in and out with the foam.

"Are you injured?" a voice called. The Vo-Matoran looked up to see one of the Ga-Matoran standing over her. She stooped and pulled seaweed from the Vo-Matoran's mask.

"I am whole," the Vo replied slowly. "But the ship…"

"The ship is gone," the Ga said, helping the Vo to her feet. "Come further up, away from the water. The sea is still dangerous."

The other Matoran were gathered in a low flat place in the center of the island. Low thunder carried on the breeze.

"I have found another," the Ga called out as they approached.

"This is good," the Fe replied. "We are six now."

"A good number," said the Ko. "More fortunate, given our plight."

"We must make another search, on the next cycle," the other Ga said. "But now that we are six…"

"We must take council," said the Onu. "Yes, it is time."

They drew the Amaja Circle in the gravel, and each Matoran took up their place on its margin.

The Ko cast a pale stone into the center of the circle. "We must devise a plan to escape," he said. "We will be needed at our destination."

"How?" the Fe ventured, pushing forward his ruddy stone. "The ship is destroyed, and we cannot rebuild it now. We have no materials…"

"I believe," the Onu said, "that we must stay put, for now."

"Survive here?" the Ko asked. "For how long?"

"Until we are rescued," the Vo said, setting down a quartz stone.

"No–until we can create a new vessel," the Fe countered.

"It would be a great undertaking," the Onu said, musing. "The seas here are treacherous."

"Too great an undertaking for us," the Vo said. "Surely--we are only six, and we have no Turaga."

"Not too great," one of the Ga chimed in. "We are builders, after all–each of us, in our own way."

"But how--"

"--We must rely on the Rule in Absence," the Ga finished.

"It is true," said the second Ga, the one who had found the Vo by the shore. "We have all that we need here."

"Agreed," said the Onu.

"The island is desolate," said the Ko, "barely a mound of rocks. And see how the smoke of the eruption obscures the sky? The stars are closed to me."

"For now," the first Ga replied. "Until then, the Rule in Absence shall guide us."

The Ko did not reply. He removed his stone from the circle.

They cast the sixfold lot, as the Rule required. The first Ga who had spoken was chosen as Elder. Now she was no longer Ga, but Raga.

A light snow of ash began to fall.

======

They scavenged the margins of the island for the first few days, gathering the remnants of their wrecked ship. The Ga and Raga attempted to swim out to the reef, but found that the ocean was still too heated to endure. The horizon was a mass of steam, and the ash fell steadily, coating both land and sea in gray.

Three masks washed ashore--those of the two Ta and the Po. The Fe examined them and found them to be undamaged.

"It is likely," the Ko said, "that the bodies have gone unto Mata already. They have no need of these anymore."

The masks were stored in the makeshift Suva that the Onu had piled up--they were precious. A hut of driftwood was soon erected nearby, and the Matoran rested there in shifts, out of the wind and the falling ash.

One evening, they drew out the Amaja once more and assembled around it:

"The next task is for you," said the Elder, pointing to the Vo. "We have made shelter, and the Suva is finished for now. What remains is…the Vuata."

"I…I have not studied the formation of Vuata, Elder," the Vo said. "Only tended to it and its power-flow."

"You are Vo, are you not?"

"I am."

"And we are without Bo-Matoran here, who might be capable of the cultivation by proxy. So, the Duty falls to you."

"I see, yes. But…it is…I am--"

"--I have studied this knowledge, Elder," the other Ga said, putting her stone into the Amaja, alongside the Vo's quartz. "I have also studied much of the knowledge of flora. Perhaps I can--"

The Elder raised a hand, shaking her head.

"No, according to the Rule in Absence, each Matoran shall perform the Duty of their building and design. No other."

The Ga nodded slowly, removing her stone from the circle.

"You shall begin tomorrow."

The Vo stared off at the murky horizon.

"I will."

In the morning, the Vo, Ga, and Fe went down to the shoreline. The Fe carried a special vessel he had shaped from scrap metal. The upper portion of the vessel was filled with a layer of protodermic ash, and below that was a small opening covered in fine mesh.

They filled the vessel with seawater, letting the liquid protodermis filter through the ash into the lower container. After repeating the process many times over, the Ga judged that the water was sufficiently purified. She turned to the Vo, who sat a short distance away, meditating.

"It's ready," the Ga said. "Have you meditated on the process?"

"I…I have," said the Vo, opening her eyes. "I believe I am centered."

"Good, you most only remember: sharp and deep is the action. Once should be enough."

"And it will…will it…hurt?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry."

"I've heard that the mechanisms are quite complex, and, um, fascinating," the Fe said, fidgeting.

He offered the vessel, to which he had affixed a spigot.

"Thank you."

"It is time," said the Ga. "We will be right here with you."

The Vo took the vessel and exhaled slowly. Then, she raised it to the aperture of her mask, and inhaled.

Sharp and deep, she inhaled the purified liquid protodermis--did not swallow it, but aspirated it sharply into her Vo-Matoran lungs, which were made differently from other Matoran.

It hurt. She dropped the vessel, doubled over. The Ga moved to steady her. The pain burned deep in her chest, but she held on, did not exhale. It was her Duty. She focused, as the Ga had told her, and the burning centered itself down, down into her core. Her heartlight beat rapidly, more rapidly each minute. At last, she looked up. The Ga and Fe helped her to stand, and they made their way back to the encampment.

The Onu had cleared a space, turning up the rocky ground and plowing gray ash into it. The Elder came out of the hut, followed by the Ko, as the three Matoran approached. The Vo stepped forward, arms spread. Her heartlight glowed bright in her chest, and the Elder nodded approvingly.

"Come. Here is the place."

The Vo stepped forward into the empty space, and the Onu patted the tilled ground. She knelt in the earth.

A whining, whirring noise began to rise on the air--a mechanical sound, like that of an engine powering up. It hurt.

The Vo looked back over her shoulder, eyes wandering, until they fell on the Ga.

"I-I..." she stammered, jaw clenched, "I am...afraid."

"It is almost done," said the Elder.

The whining noise increased.

"We will be here with you," said the Ga, quietly.

"You will not be alone."

The noise reached a crescendo. The Vo doubled over once more, and heaved. A bright spark of something issued from her mouth and went down, down into the ground.

Her eyes and heartlight winked out. The body fell heavily to the earth.

=====

It was a red evening, as the stars burned into night over the sea. The fog and smoke on the horizon had cleared in recent months--enough now to glimpse the husk of the volcanic island which had been the cause of their shipwreck, a low smudge against the sky.

They could not reach it, of course. The waves broke sharply against submerged reefs all around, and the ocean still boiled angrily in some places. Somewhere out there was the wreck of the Fe's skiff, and the Fe along with it. Only his mask had returned to them, as with the others. That was how they had decided that long-term survival was their only option--even the Ko had agreed.

The Ga had descended to ground-level less than an hour ago, as was her habit before the night set in. She passed the Onu on her way down to the ladder; he was always more comfortable closer to the earth.

She made a brief search of the shoreline. Sometimes debris still washed in, although collecting driftwood was much less vital to them now. She checked for erosion on the eastern point of the shore, and made a note to tell the Onu that it had progressed a small amount. He probably already knew.

After that, she waded into the surf and hauled in one of the cage-traps, retrieving its catch of small Rahi crabs, endemic to the area and useful for their shells and sharp claws. She hung the catch upon a rack further up the rocky shore, noting also that the trap would needed to be mended. Good practice for the Ko, maybe, now that the stars had become visible consistently and he had calmed himself. She verified the tideline again, judging that the tide was near its lowest point by now, and replaced the marker stones. The tidal range was of the variable kind in this region of the world, and had to be monitored carefully. So many things to monitor, to keep track of. But they all did their part: it was a matter of survival.

Next, she turned her attention to the Tree.

The Tree rose from the center of the island, straight as a pillar. Its roots covered much of the ground now, burrowing deep into the earth, and its canopy now shaded nearly the entirety of the island's landmass. It had grown quickly in its early days, and its roots were mature enough now even to drink the unpurified seawater.

She made her way along the narrow pathway that ringed the Tree's base. The path was a natural formation, allowing access to the various apertures and ports that issued from the trunk. There were even natural handholds in the metalwood of the tree's surface where the roots emerged and one was obliged to climb over. This was the nature of Vuata. Like many other forms of plantlife across the world, it was made to serve a particular purpose. The Tree was their livelihood--the producer of all the things needed for the continuing of their labors.

At last, the Ga stood before the great aperture which led down into the Tree's Karda, the core which produced energy for the Tree's growth, and which provided vital sustenance to the Matoran, when needed, as well as power for whatever mechanisms they built.

The Karda was the heart of their island now. It glowed blue-green, pulsing gently. She made sure to keep the area free of debris, clean and orderly, as much as she could.

It was not technically her Duty, but it was right.

They had buried the body of the Vo there, in the same earth, after...afterward. The body would not go unto Mata, the Raga had said, for there was no fatal malfunction, only a...transferal. A change in life-functions. That was what the Raga had called it. Even so, she liked to come to this place when she could. She had made a promise, after all, that the Vo would not be alone.

Night had fallen. The Ga returned to the sturdy rope ladder which hung down the trunk of the Tree. Her tasks were done, and they would all be turning in the for the night soon. All except the Ko, who usually rested during the daylight so that he could star-gaze at night...

The great ripple that moved through the world almost didn't register to her senses as she climbed, except for a subtle pause in the movement of the waves below. It was accompanied by a noise: a slow distant rushing.

The Onu--sensitive to the slightest of world-movements--was already calling out a loud warning from the branches of the Tree above by the time she realized what was happening, and that the dull roar that had sprung up in her ears was not wind, but water.

The tsunami struck the island and washed over it with fury. Liquid fire sprouted along the horizon as the distant volcanic island was ripped apart by a second eruption. Flaming rock hissed into the sea, and the stars were once again blotted out by smoke.

Somehow, her grip on the rope-ladder did not fail. She twisted and whipped round in the surging water, and the heat made her cry out involuntarily. Then she struck hard and felt the yielding wood of the Tree against her body.

She heaved upward with a wrenched arm and grabbed another handhold on the ladder, then realized that she was moving upward. Her eyes cleared for a moment, and she saw the other Matoran hauling frantically on the ladder, dragging her up out of the raging maelstrom. The Tree swayed, and the Ko nearly fell from his perch. She was out of the water.

She looked down, and with a shock she realized that the island was gone, completely submerged.

"We almost have you!" the Raga said, heaving on the rope.

She bounced off the trunk again, and heard the Tree groan with the strain of the waters. Then hands were on her, dragging her up and into the safety of the lowest branches, which grew in the shape of a platform.

"Are you injured?" asked the Ko, "I see...Your shoulder is damaged. I shall endeavor to--"

"It is not finished!" said the Raga, pointing into the distance.

"Hold fast," said the Onu, gripping them both with his large hands.

Another vast wave bulged up from the horizon and smashed against the Tree. They all heard it, felt the pain of it. The world was all red and black now, as the volcano flared up.

The Ga struggled to her feet with an effort and looked downward toward the base of the Tree. The Karda. Through the rising steam she could see it: the core was still submerged. Its light flickered beneath the waves. The Karda shall drown, she thought.

If it died, so would they, soon enough, and it would all be for nothing.

"The Vuata!" the Ga cried, pointing. "It is in danger!"

The Tree shuddered again.

"Its roots are deep," said the Onu. "But I am unsure."

"I did not foresee this," said the Ko miserably. His precious stars had been wiped away once more.

The Raga stared for a moment, down at the heart of the Tree, which she had commanded to be planted.

"I shall do it," she said slowly. "It falls to me. The Rule in Absence states that--"

The Ga had already dived from the branches, straight down into the crashing waves, where the Karda glowed blue-green and beat, beat like a heartlight, down into the place where vast energies pulsed against the onslaught of the elements, down amongst the roots of the Tree, where the Vo had been buried with her mask. The Ga fell into that place, and swam strongly, despite her injury, and pushed through...

And in those final moments, before her own core reinforced the Karda of the Tree with new energy, there was a little fear, but not much.

===

A Nui-Kahu flew through the high atmosphere, wheeling above the ocean. Below, a mess of islands spread across the surface of the silver sea, and the Toa of Earth that clung nauseously to the bird's back noted that they were clearly the result of past volcanic activity.

At the center of the ragged archipelago, a low cone was still visible above the waves. According to the Toa's briefing, this volcano had been disrupting the marginal sea-routes for many years, but only now had the Lord of the Continent seen fit to dispatch someone. Unfortunately, that someone was him.

The Rahi bird descended mercifully to the blackened shoreline, and the Toa slid off with relief. He stamped his feet a few times in the dirt to reassure himself and calm his motion-sickness. The Kahu squawked and looked at him disdainfully, flicking mud from its wings.

"Stay put, please," he clicked in the bird's language. "This shouldn't take too long."

The crater itself was only a short hike and a scramble up the irregular slope, but even before he had reached the scorched rim and looked down, he'd begun to suspect that his intel was a bit outdated. Although it had clearly been a very lively firespout in the past, the volcano was now quite dead. Not even a wisp of smoke rose from the blasted core below. The wind was dry and ashy in his mouth. He scratched his mask. Had this trip been for nothing, after all?

Reaching out with his elemental powers, he scried downwards into the depths, feeling out the placement of the earth, its layers stacked one atop the other, sensing out the places where it was cold and hard...and where it was hot, made pliable by the magmatic flows that crisscrossed the underside of the world.

There was nothing here. No heat. No pressure. Strange.

He shrugged and turned to go back down the slope. It would be a short mission report for his superiors in Metru Prynak after all...

Something caught his eye, off to the right, where the distant shoreline curved into a small bay. A shape stood out against the gray stone. In his Matoran days, the Toa had been a historian of sorts, although nothing so grand as the Archivists of the City of Legends. It wasn't really on his list of directives, but surely it wouldn't hurt to investigate this place thoroughly...

Another short hike brought him to the remains of a camp, likely Matoran in origin based on its size. The firepit and remains of a small shelter were all covered in a healthy layer of ashen dust, just like everything else on the island. More notable, however, was the standing stone that had been erected just up the slope from the encampment. This is what he had seen from above.

It was a rounded pillar carved from the volcanic rock of the island itself, clearly having been shaped with some skill--probably by a Po- or Onu-Matoran. On the surface of the pillar, many words were carved. He stooped and gently blew away the accumulated ash from the surface, then began to read:

"Omokulo the Earth-Tiller carved the words on this stone. Tykto divined by the stars that it would be read in this place, one day, and Raga Peyra commissioned its writing to complete the cycle."

The signature was a practice of the northern chroniclers and record-keepers, although phrased a bit archaically. He read on:

"This is the bio-chronicle of our cell, isolated from the Great Whole by the wrath of nature. Nevertheless, we have kept to our Duty, and followed the Rule in Absence."

The Rule in Absence...How long ago had this been written? There was only the Rule of Order now, after the Barraki and their Wars of Order. He scuffed his fingers along the stone, tasted the dust. Perhaps a century old, maybe more...

"We were six at first, and by the sixfold lot we chose an Elder, as the Rule in Absence requires. We raised the Suva for safekeeping, and the Vewa for shelter. Then we made provision for continued survival and labor, as the Rule in Absence requires. Therefore, Ka'o the Channeler initiated the making of Vuata."

He paused for a moment, amused at the word. These Matoran must have been from the central environs--or even from Metru Nui itself--to call it that. On the continent, they still preferred the archaic form, Vo-Ata, the Source of Energy...

"In the time that was to come, Vuata grew and became the body of our world, which sheltered and protected us. By Ka'o we offer this memory, and by Idda who went unto the Karda when it was threatened, though it broke the Rule in Absence. We offer this memory unto the Great Spirit. West from this pillar it can be seen. It will be with us always. It shall not be forgotten."

There was so much written here. Interesting to be sure, but too much to sift through. He focused and scanned the stone with his Mask of Memory instead, storing the visuals so that they could be more closely examined back home.

West from this pillar it can be seen. The line stuck in his mind. He turned and squinted toward the horizon. The sky was still bright at midday, and he cursed that he'd forgotten to bring the tinted lenses for his mask. Earth Toa weren't exactly known for their keen eyesight.

He walked back into the encampment. There seemed to be nothing else of interest for him here, and the day was getting on. Putting a finger to his mouth, he let out a shrill whistle and soon after the Nui-Kahu landed by the water nearby. He was preparing to mount up and begin the long, unpleasantly high-altitude journey back, when he stopped again.

Something was nagging at him. Something down there...beneath his feet. Deep in the earth, he could feel it now, or was it just his imagination?

Closing his eyes, he searched deeper. Not here...not there...no. Wait--there! A small source of heat in the bedrock, very deep. He traced it like a thread. Westward, out to sea.

But that wasn't all. There was something else down there too--something not made of earth. He could sense it by the absence it created, coiling around, following along the vein of magmatic pressure. The Kahu gave an unhappy screech as he abruptly waded into the surf to get a better read. Up to his waist, the waves buffeted him as he pushed his seismic senses to their limit. At last, he got a glimpse, saw the bigger picture. Yes, it was familiar.

Clouds covered the brightness of the sky for a moment, and his eyes snapped open. He could see a shape on the horizon. From above, he had thought it was just another island, maybe another volcano. But now he knew he was mistaken.

He returned to his flying mount and coaxed it back into the air. The scattered islands around the area were a wreck, washed clean by the violence of nature more than once...but never again, it would seem.

Vuata grew and became the body of our world

which sheltered and protected us.

Deep beneath the earth he had felt the stirring of roots, tangled in the veins and rivers of underground heat and drawing from their energy.

By Ka'o we offer this memory, and by Idda

who went unto the Karda when it was threatened

though it broke the Rule in Absence.

Mighty roots, choking the errant volcano into extinction and returning peace to the islands and the sea.

We offer this memory unto the Great Spirit.

West from this pillar it can be seen.

On the edge of the horizon it loomed, huge and unshakable. Dark branches lifted upward and outward across the ocean.

It will be with us always.

It shall not be forgotten.

#bionicle #art #writing #sketches #fanfiction #outofgloom #works #vuata maca

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analogwriting · 1 year ago

Text

It Comes in Waves

Chapter 10: Spilling Waves

Trafalgar Law x gn!reader word count: 2.8k first|next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You followed Chopper to the deck. You barely stepped a foot out the door before you heard Luffy screaming your name followed by the immediate feeling of his limbs wrapping around your body as he hugged you tightly. You yelped as his body slammed with yours.

“Hey, Luffy,” you choked out.

“LUFFY BE CAREFUL THEY ARE STILL RECOVERING!!!” Chopper was going to blow a gasket at this rate. You looked at the reindeer. “It's okay, Chopper. I'll be fine.”

You patted Luffy's back.

“I thought I lost you,” he mumbled, his face buried in your neck. That statement hurt your heart. “Can't get rid of me that easily.” You tried to lighten the mood but he was quiet for a moment more. Even with his carefree attitude, you knew that his brother’s death affected him. You thought about all the times the three of you happened to run into each other. They were always fun.

He slowly let you go and air slowly came back to your lungs. “I didn't mean to scare you. Sorry,” you mumbled, ruffling his hair once you were able to fully move again.

Once he let go, you gave him a proper hug. You pulled away, looking at him with pride. Much like an older sibling would. “Look at you! I think you grew a few inches!” You laughed. Your eyes landed on his scar and that day filled your mind but you tried to not let it dampen your mood.

Though, it was in the shape of an ‘x’. Probably because his life was a treasure.

“I did, actually! I'm also a lot stronger now! I can use haki!” You grinned at him lazily, putting your hands on your hips. “Well, shit. Looks like the title of King of the Pirates is already yours,” you mused, once more ruffling his hair.

Luffy quickly pulled you to the table to start eating. He was talking your ear off, getting you caught up. You greeted everyone, catching up and making small talk with everyone. They all filled you in on what they had been up to.

As time went on, everyone dispersed into their own conversations. You noticed two people you had never seen before. “Who…?” You looked at Luffy who followed your gaze back to the two newcomers.

“They're a couple of people we ran into on Punk Hazard.”

“My name is Kinemon and this is my son, Momonosuke.” You immediately noted the way they spoke. “Sir Luffy has been kind enough to let us accompany you all to your next destination.”

You nodded. “Uh, I'm Y/n.” The man, Kinemon, nodded back. “I have heard a great deal about you. Sir Luffy seems to hold you in high regards. As does Sir Law.” Luffy you were expecting, but Law? He talked about you when you weren’t around? You had a hard time believing it. He probably just chimed in. Though, you thought about his behavior earlier. Now that you thought about it, where was he?

The samurai spoke up again. “So, how did you meet Sir Luffy?” He looked at you with a curious look. You weren’t sure how to make him out quite yet. He seemed innocent enough, but you were still weary towards strangers.

“Uh, well. Luffy and his crew kind of just…picked me up? Saved me.” You shrugged. “I had just escaped from the Marines. Very narrowly. I was floating on a piece of driftwood and Luffy, quite literally, grabbed me and pulled me onto his ship.” It was terrifying at the time. To suddenly be flying through the air when just moments before you were close to death. You had taken quite the beating at the time. Lost a lot of blood.

Luffy spoke up. “Oh yeah! I remember!” He cackled. “The face you made was so funny, y/n.”

“I would hope so considering you pummeled them right into me,” Zoro commented. He made a face.

You nodded, laughing softly. “Yeah…almost gave both of us a concussion. And that was before Chopper joined the crew so we would've just been nursing ourselves back to health.” Despite what had happened, you looked back on the memory fondly. You looked at Zoro. “And you yelled at me like it was my fault,” you said, narrowing your eyes.

“Let it go, that was forever ago.” He rolled his eyes. Or his eye. How did he get that scar? “I was literally bleeding out and you were scolding me like I did it on purpose. I’m never letting you live it down.” You snorted, shaking your head. “Never apologized either.” You sighed. “But Sanji made lunch as an apology after Nami helped patch me up. So, I guess it worked out.”

Luffy looked at you for a moment. “Remember what you told me that day?”

You paused, feeling your own face soften as you remembered that day fondly. “You were bouncing around and apologizing. The way you were acting, I had said that you reminded me of a friend of mine. That you two had even kind of looked alike.” You looked down for a moment.

“You said I reminded you of Ace.” He didn’t introduce himself right away, so you didn’t know he was the Luffy that Ace had spoken so fondly of. It wasn’t until you had told him that that he had burst into a wide excited smile and started talking animatedly about him.

You nodded. “You did. You still do.” The energy around the table grew somber at the mention of the captain’s brother. He held a special place in the hearts of many that were on board currently. “Same unruly hair. Same crazy attitude. Not to mention your appetite.” That gained some laughs.

“I'm sure it wasn't easy cooking with both of them on board, eh, Sanji?” The cook groaned at the thought of it. “So much food.” The two of them seemed to have endless stomachs. Luffy was enough, but Luffy and Ace? If you hadn’t seen it yourself, you never would’ve believed it.

“You know, you remind me of him too, y/n.” You blinked, looking at Luffy. You didn’t think you looked anything like him. “What do you mean?”

“You look after me and take care of me when you see me. Like Ace did. Almost like an older sibling!”

You blinked, feeling heat rush up to your cheeks. “Well, you're like a little brother to me, so it works out.” You smiled, ruffling his hair again.

After that, conversations continued once more and everyone turned to their own thing. As people finished eating, they spread out on the deck, doing their own things. Towards the end of the night, you were on a bench, Luffy's head in your lap as he snoozed. You had a feeling he must have been missing his brother a lot tonight and that's why he was attached to you. It was clear now how much Luffy cared for you - like another sibling. You faintly remembered Ace mentioning they had another brother but he had passed away a long time ago.

Luffy had lost two brothers and yet he still found reasons to smile. You didn’t know how he did it. You admired him for that. You were only recently finding your own smile again. All thanks to two brothers and co.

“He really was worried, you know.” You looked up, seeing Robin. She was in passing to grab some cola for Franky when she noticed Luffy sleeping. “When Usopp and Law showed up with you, I thought he was going to lose it. Shut down like he did when…you know.” There was sadness in her eyes, but a fond smile on her face. You could see how much she cared about her captain. Luffy was lucky to have so many people that cared about him.

You frowned slightly as you thought. “He just has a big heart. He cares so much for everyone.” You don’t know why you kept trying to convince yourself you weren’t special in any kind of way.

“But not everyone reminds him of his big brother,” she mused, walking off again. It did make sense. You came in and out of his life, fretting over him whenever you saw him. Much like Ace had. You couldn't help it. When you found out he was Ace’s brother, you felt like you had to protect him. He was your best friend’s brother! Pretty much your own!

You thought about various times you had run into Luffy. It was a whirlwind every time. A breath of fresh air. He was filled with so much warmth and love for those around him. It warmed your own heart and reminded you of the home you were forced to leave a long time ago. At the same time, it only strengthened your resolve in your mission. You wanted to make the world a safer place. You knew you couldn’t completely end slavery and take down the Celestial Dragons, but you did what you could.

“What are you thinking about?” You looked up, seeing Law. You shrugged, looking back down at Luffy. “Nothing in particular.”

“I don't believe you.” He looked at you, studying your face. “If I had to guess, I'd say that you're thinking about what Luffy said earlier.”

You were quiet, staring at Luffy's sleeping face. He was right. You were still dwelling on it. Then something dawned on you. “Hold on. You weren’t even at dinner? How did you know?” You looked at him.

“Dinner was on deck. I just wasn’t at the table.” He shrugged. “I heard everything though.” You narrowed your eyes at him for a moment. Then you realized something.

“Wait. Why are you here?”

He stared at you. “Oh? Am I not allowed to be here? Are you upset that I’m here?” He smirked. You glared. “You and I both know that’s not what I meant,” you said. He held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, no need to get so hostile,” he mused. “No need to be so…feisty.” You stared at him for a moment before you burst into laughter and he chuckled along with you. “I completely forgot about him, oh my ocean.”

Your laughter caused Luffy to stir and you quickly quieted down. “Oh, sorry,” you whispered to the sleeping man in your lap. He readjusted himself before snoring once more. You chuckled, looking at Law. “Gotta keep an eye on me now, huh,” you teased. Law smirked, nodding. “Oh yeah. Make sure I keep you in check or whatever he was going on about.” You both chuckled quietly to yourselves. Even though it was only a year ago - it felt much longer.

“So, tell me. Why are you here? Where’s everyone else?” You looked at him after making sure Luffy was still comfortably asleep. Law was quiet for a moment. “Luffy agreed to help me take down Doflamingo in Dressrosa.” You thought for a moment. That name sounded familiar. “The warlord?” He nodded. “Yeah. He…” For a moment, Law looked like he was about to tell you about something from his past before deciding against it.

You opened your mouth to ask when Luffy began to stir.

“Y/n?” he asked, groggily.

“Yes, Luff? I'm right here,” you crooked softly as you ran your hand through his hair. He adjusted himself before settling back down. “I just wanted to make sure you hadn't left yet,” he mumbled. “Don't leave without saying goodbye…” He drifted back off.

“Do you make it a habit to leave without saying goodbye?” Law asked, referring to Luffy's words. You groaned. Not this again. You thought that was long forgotten at this point. You shook your head. “I don't. I think he was just saying it.”

“Ah, so just me then.”

You glared at Law. “Can we not do this right now? That was also forever ago.”

Before either of you could say anything else, the sound of Brook’s violin filled the air. You felt the exhaustion of the night's events catch up to you and before you knew it, you were also asleep.

The next morning, you groaned. You noticed you were in bed. You sat up, holding your head. It was pounding. Water. You needed some water. You stood up, shuffling towards where the kitchen was. It must still have been early as only Sanji and Nami were in the kitchen. They were discussing something when you walked in.

“Good morning, y/n!” They both chimed, a smirk on both of their faces. They even shared a look before glancing back at you. “What?” You looked at them. They were gossiping about something. “What did you two hear?” They only grinned in response. Oh, you didn’t like that.

“Sleep well?” Nami asked, there was a hint of something in her voice but you were too tired to figure it out.

“Would you like some water?” Sanji held out a cup to you and you nodded. When you reached for the cup, that's when you realized you were wearing something that you didn't have on the night before. Your movements paused midair as you processed this. Nami and Sanji exchanged looks again, grinning at each other. “There it is.”

You were wearing the jacket that Law had been wearing the night before. How did you make it all the way to the kitchen without noticing? You were suddenly glad no one else was awake to see this. How did this happen?

“Listen-” You started, but the thief stopped you by holding up a photo. You took it, studying it. Your face immediately turned as red as the apples that Sanji was currently cooking with.

Luffy, Law, and you sitting on the bench, all fast asleep. Luffy’s head in your lap, your head on Law’s shoulder, and his head on yours. You couldn’t take your eyes off the picture. Mostly because you couldn’t meet Nami’s eyes right now.

“You guys look like a little family!” Nami teased, her shit eating grin growing larger somehow. “Nami, please,” you groaned, covering your face in embarrassment. “Everyone saw, you know.” Her teasing was going to kill you. You peeked at her through your fingers. “No they didn’t.” She looked at Sanji, who nodded. “Yeah. Just about everyone saw. Except Luffy, for obvious reasons.”

“We were tired! As if you guys haven't fallen asleep on each other before.”

Sanji and Nami shared, yet again, another look. Fuck. “Suuuure,” they both said, turning back to their own tasks. Nami went to take the photo back and you held it from her. “Oh, absolutely not. I’m destroying this.” She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think so!” She hopped over the table to chase you and you yelped, turning on your heel and running out of the kitchen.

Only to run face first into someone's chest, sending the both of you tumbling down to the ground. You groaned, slowly lifting yourself up and coming face to face with Law. You froze, blinking as you processed. Law stared right back at you - he seemed to also be processing.

“Get a room!” Nami playfully called before going back into the kitchen with a triumphant look on her face, pulling you both out of your trance. You scrambled to get off of him, straightening yourself up and dusting yourself up. “Sorry,” you mumbled. You realized you still had the picture in your hand. You quickly shoved it into your necklace.

Law cleared his throat. “You really shouldn’t run out of a doorway. You never know if someone is on the other side.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Really? A lecture this early in the morning?” Did he know how to interact without scolding? “You’re the one who bulldozed right into me,” he said.

Then he looked at you. “Are you alright, y/n? You’re really red.” He reached out to put his hand on your forehead to feel for a fever and you dodged his hand. Mostly on instinct. “I am just fine, thank you. Nami just teasing me.” You waved it off. He looked at you. “Are you sure?” You nodded.

You went to scurry off before anything else was said, wanting to forget what had just happened. “Wait, y/n-” Law reached out to grab you to stop you in your tracks, but grabbed the collar of the jacket, pulling it against your neck. You, already being somewhat flustered, felt the light pressure against your neck. In your surprise and with your guard being down due to illness, at least that’s what you’ll tell yourself, you let out a moan.

As soon as it sounded off, you clasped your hands over your mouth. Your face was a radiant red and Law even froze in his movements. You could see his own face turning red as he stared at you. That was mortifyingly embarrassing. You could pass away right there. Then you absolutely booked it. You had to get as far as you could from him.

#one piece #law x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x you #trafalgar d law #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #the fact that this is technically just part four kills me #the last couple paragraphs are completely self indulgent #iciw #am fics

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historia-vitae-magistras · 10 months ago

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Part Nine: Drownings

Chapter Directory: Here

Current Installment: You are here!

Author's note: Inspired by the 1950s short story "The Man Who Came Early" by Poul Anderson. I rewrote this seven times and had an unrelated mental breakdown. I'm still not happy with it but at least everything that was in the outline is in this version. No major trigger warnings for this chapter. Also on ao3 here.

Burial Mound, Cumbria

Matthew slid beneath the water, practically consumed by the dark concentric circles flowing out and lapping gently at the stone. They had built the spring like an inverted broch, no mortar, all perfectly fitted stone.

“No!” Arthur was whipping off his coat. The wool would only become waterlogged and drown him. His body was a spring, energy coiling from shin to shoulder, arms thrown up over his head to break the surface tension, anything to give him an extra boost to get and clasp his son to him. Toes off the ground, arms snatched him back.

“No!” Rhys was slamming him to the ground like he was a boy, and Mother was a corpse upon a driftwood throne. There’s scuffling. He flipped himself over, white-hot rage replacing whatever desperation was before.

“Let me go!” It was always English when they argued, a force of speech as effective as a spear point since the Angles.

Rhys drove down, rolled him over, face in the moss and clover of the Cumbrian soil beneath his face, the heart of him a thousand years ago and forbid him in a dead language. More loss. He wouldn’t take more loss. But his arm would snap if he struggled anymore.

“Rhys.” Brighid was pulling him off. “Rhys, let him go.”

“No!” He shot back at her. “Absolutely not—”

“You have too.” She looked gentle now, not fearsome. Herself, St. Brighid, not the warrior goddess mother left her to inherit. Soft clover, her prized cattle roamed rather than the wine-dark seas that thrashed her shores. Her hand released him.

Rhys was protesting, but he wasn’t fighting or wrestling. Arthur couldn’t hear him or Brighid now. Their voices were silent; Alasdair was on the ground, shed of his clothes, bleeding from a cut on his hairline. He almost snorted. Brighid would have had to strike him as hard as she could to stop him. Alasdair was saying something, mouth open to the French that was so familiar, calling after his favourite nephew. But his attention was gone now. The water spoke to him with Alfred’s laugh.

He dove.

—

Sometimes, when Matthew hasn’t slept, the ice starts whispering at home. Singing or whispering, luring him with cracks in the seracs as serpentine as a woman’s hips. It whispers about how much of him is already frozen. He can rest as much as he wants if he lays down and slips into blue-black waters. It sighs and tells him he can close his eyes, and everything will be all right. Tempts him. He’ll be so numb, but for a good reason. Everything would slide away, and he would be as empty as he felt. Sometimes, the ice sings.

And sometimes, he answers. He’s laid himself down into a gap in the pack ice for a nap so casually that the frigid water rushing over him feels gentle, not cold and cutting. Matthew has closed his eyes and let himself float away. He could emerge in a few months with the spring melt, float up, and return refreshed and rebuilt. Any absence unconsidered, and anyone who might have eventually noticed usually yet unbothered.

The spring sings like that, in a gentle burble instead of staccato groans but promising nonetheless. His brother’s laugh has gone quieter, disappearing under the water. The dry stone edge of the spring is cold under his hands, but the lure is louder, and the water is not so cold. Words his aunt sang drop from sounds flesh might make to the deep metallic of something like bronze clacking on stone. Like wind forced through chimes or a horn. The water sings like that, a hymn for the missing or maybe the mad, urging him on as he let himself sink and then swam down, searching for a bottom as he kept one hand on the round stone wall.

Then, the world was rotating. The light had gone so bright. Turning, he slammed against the stone, what air he had left bubbling out of his mouth and gurgling away. Fuck. He tried to twist and paddle up; he could swim like a fish, but something had snagged—no! Something had grabbed and hauled him up from behind. He must have been running out of air. His vision flashed red, even against his shut eyelids, and he broke the surface. Heaving, he groped for stone but found green and freshly cut wood boards. A woman looked down at him, a bucket fitted together of wood in her hand. Her hair was pulled out of her face in a crown of braids. The linen shift she wore draped off her shoulders and dipped below the neckline of her bodice, a style that had been popular when he was a child, but it was her eyes he’d locked on.

“Katya?” She looked a bit healthier than he’d ever known her to be, but her eyes were the same sky blue. Hope and harvest blue. He would have recognized her if he didn’t have eyes, though, because that part of him that was hers sang louder than the water or the shout coming from behind him. Something was pulling at his shoulder. He didn’t care. Matt pulled himself closer. He could smell summer wafting off her.

Her surprise turned to something tender, and her hand lifted to his face and beckoned behind him. Someone else was saying his name from his shoulder. He didn’t care.

“I’m not what you’re looking for yet.”

“Yes, you are.” He said. “I’ll always look for you.”

“But not yet.” She insisted. Pushing his soaking wet hair off his face. “Return to my dreams, wraith.”

“Katy—” He was being dragged away then. She didn’t look sad but hopeful.

“Swim.”

“What the fuck— DAD?”

“My sons and their cocks, I swear to God.” Arthur was griping, and Matt was spinning, looking for a handhold to climb the wall of the… was it a well he was inside of? It was not a spring; the water was too cold and too dark. He was shivering. Katya was there, happier than he’d ever seen her, and he was stuck here, pushed away, banished.

“Matthew!” Two hands on his face, making him look. His father was soaked but deathly serious. “Focus.”

“What?”

“Focus on your brother and swim.”

His father’s voice cut the panicked babble of thoughts, and he heard the laugh again. He sucked in the air and dove. If it was one thing he was, it was a good swimmer, reaching out and down, striving forward. He has never seen such darkness. Only the odd, purposeful tap on his calf keeps him in contact with his father. They don’t have much time before Arthur begins to freeze, or they burst for air. His lungs are straining, individual bronchioles tracing branches of pain through his chest when light shines. Harvest gathering greens, mostly, then woad blues and sparks of red like fruit. If only stained glass could flow and distort light like tide pools, it would look like this. He can’t tell which way is up then. He can’t breathe. He’s blacking out, hand reaching for his father’s tumbling form next to him as they fell rather than swam. The colours drained from the world, and rushing water froze, black and fractal.

Then he’s on his back, and his father is slapping him across the face. He jackknifes into consciousness. Dad’s there, dripping like a drowned rat. But his body is normal. No blood showed, no bones were broken, and strength flooded back into his extremities as his body staved off hypothermia in the much warmer air.

“What the fuck was that?” He gasped.

“Breathe.” Arthur is a bit frantic. They’re both shivering. “Focus.”

“Where are we?” Matt was so confused. He recognized stones, the well. But there were so many trees. The trunks were as tall as any he had at home, taller than anything that had been replanted after they’d been hacked from him to build the empire. The rainbow of smeared colour still danced in his eyes and his vision smeared.

“Not where.” Arthur was pale. “When. I haven’t had this many oak trees since before your brother was born.”

“When?” Matt practically gagged on a shiver and laid back down. “Was that—Was that the rainbow bridge? Like the sagas?”

“The— Rainbow bridge? Really, lad? You gawking at Kateryna was the single most heterosexual thing I’ve ever seen you do.”

The less relevant his sense of humour, the more fucked they were. But the blood rushing back into his fingers and toes hurt ungodly amounts. He lost focus again, the trees blurring into the low clouds like brushes into well-used rinse water, only revealing the buttresses of his grandmother’s pre-Christian cathedral in the foliage. Better than stained glass.

He’s lying there, aware of Arthur having gotten to his feet, but not other people, until there are voices. He sits again. A small caravan of wagons heaped with goods stands at the edge of the clearing, and his father is speaking with them. He can only make out so many words. He almost thinks they’re speaking Dutch for a moment, those fluid, almost gurgly sounds Jan makes when he’s happy and well fucked. His body feels so normal now, warm and boneless, like he’s eaten and slept so much he needs to sleep more. He’s supposed to be alert but can’t understand what’s being said. He tried to learn Beowulf by heart once when he was a boy. Before Jack was born and no one cared enough to call a strange creature at the end of the frozen world kin, he’d poured over the pages of an ancient cracked book bound in even older leather. His father has no such issues, understanding or being understood.

“Hƿelċ tīd is hit nū?” He recognized the word for time, but the man laughed and replied in a way that took Matt the logic of forming half-forgotten grammar into a sentence that might not even be the same. That is something for the priests.

More words. He only caught the last two. Ælfrēd Cyninġ.

He sat straight, lightning running down his back. Alfred. Ælfrēd. The pressure of normalcy pushed his consciousness from all sides, embracing that empty, silent despair of days and days. It filled him back with life, like warm water over the cold. Not so near, not so strong, but there. Alive. His brother was in existence.

#hws england #hws canada #the dangeld axe to grind: the viking age time travel au #my writing || cacoethes scribendi

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obxone · 2 years ago

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Assumptions (Part 13)

Rewritten/Edited. ~1.6k words

Master Page

The last party of the summer at the point is going strong, with a pogue only bonfire and kegger to bring the entire side of the Cut together at least once more before the summer ends. The one rule to tonight meant no kooks.

You giggle as Pope carries you on his back down to the shore, the remaining pogues following. Once he deposits you into the sand, you waste no time and run into the edge of the water. The cold ocean water feels good on your feet and legs. You smile, stretching your arms out.

“Being single again feels that good?” JJ asks, nearing you.

You shrug, trying not to think about Rafe. It had been a month of no contact or sightings. At first, it felt like a Rafe-sized hole had been left in your life, but slowly with the help of your friends and work you had managed to fill it.

“Being kook free feels good,” you correct, and he grins at you.

JJ had been relieved when you showed up at the Chateau to tell the group that you and Rafe were officially over. Everyone seemed a little shocked, including Sarah. That surprised you.

“Want a beer?” JJ asks, his hand finding your back. You nod, grinning. He goes, throwing his arm around John B’s shoulders as they go. You glance to see Pope and Kie so close their shoulders bump as they talk. Kie laughs at something he says, and you smile, heartwarming at how close they are becoming. Kie likes Pope, and you know Pope likes her. It is obvious in the way he looks at her.

“Rafe’s here,” Sarah’s voice pulls your attention, and you turn to her. Your eyes are wide as you try to understand why the kook would be present. She jerks her chin towards the fire, and you inhale sharply, steeling yourself for the first sighting since he left you in your bedroom the night you broke his heart, before looking. There he is. He is all smiles, a brunette leaning into his side, and he grins at her before taking a sip from his cup. She leans in, lips planting on his cheek. He turns his face towards her, and you have to look away before they kiss. A pang of jealousy in your stomach surprises you.

“What an asshole,” Sarah mutters, but you wave it off and continue away from his lovefest.

“We come bearing beer!” John B announces as they return with a cup for each of you. Pope and Kie head for their own while citing finding a fellow pogue to say hi to now that they are no longer in their little conversation bubble.

“You, okay?” JJ asks, passing you a cup.

“Yes!” You smile and take a sip, wincing at the over-enthusiastic answer. He nods, studying you, not buying your lie for a minute. You huff before looking at him. “Rafe’s here… with someone.”

JJ frowns and turns to look at the clusters of people around the fire and keg. John B also turns at the mention of his girlfriend's older brother, and Sarah looks again to see her brother right where she had initially spotted him.

JJ notices him and the girl still clinging to him. “Fuck him, right?”

“Right,” you respond quickly and take another drink, a more generous gulp of the amber liquid. The beer is not as cold as you prefer, but it would do. It is free beer, after all.

“Besides,” he says quickly, turning to you as he pats his pockets. “I have this!”

He produces a joint, and you cannot help but laugh a little.

“Come on, Baby, let’s find a spot and share.”

“Sounds good to me,” you chime happily, and he throws his arm around your shoulders as you walk towards a stray piece of driftwood.

Sarah and John B follow, laughing at your sudden change in mood at the mention of a joint with JJ. You do not look back, if you had, it probably would not have helped, because Rafe has finally spotted you. A frown on his face at the sight of JJ touching you and you carrying on like the breakup was the last thing you were worried over.

Once you are settled, and Kie returns with Pope, the conversations flow easily, and the beer supply stays steady.

“Hey.” JJ bumps your knee with his. “Want to share the last hit?”

“Share?” You ask, eyebrows raised in confusion.

He nods, a grin on his face. “I take it and share it with you.”

You tease him by pretending to think it over as he squirms in excitement before giving him a nod. He grins and takes the final hit before pulling you closer to him. Your hands settle on his shoulder as your mouths nearly meet. He exhales the smoke, and you inhale, fingers digging into his shoulders before his lips press to yours once you have inhaled it all.

"Good job, Baby," he murmurs, fingers warm against your exposed waist. He leans back, letting you blow it out when you are ready before he winks at you.

“Not a bad way to finish it, huh?”

“No,” you whisper, a blush spreading across your cheeks.

“You are with JJ?!” Rafe stands not three feet away, his date for the night behind him, her hands on his back.

You exhale, dropping your head down. Your chin is against your chest as you try to figure out how to handle this without a fight starting. The atmosphere seems to shift, and you can feel the tension crackle to life at the imposing kook. JJ is tense beside you. His arm wraps around your waist to pull you that last bit closer. You lean into him, gaze flickering over the dark-haired girl.

“What is it to you, Rafe?” JJ asks.

“Don’t,” you say softly. JJ frowns, looking at you. You look at him. “He’s not worth a fight.”

“I’m not worth it?” Rafe asks, his fingers pointing to his chest. "Me?"

You look back at him. The anger you feel at him not giving you space even now floods your features. “You shouldn’t be here, and you shouldn’t be jealous, I’m not yours anymore.”

“You have someone with you right now,” Sarah says, rising to her feet.

She cuts him off before he can snap back at you, but you can see the storm clouds in his blue eyes. Your words bite at him.

Sarah’s brown eyes are angry as she glares at her older brother. “Leave us alone.”

He smirks as the realization sets in. “It was you, wasn’t it?” He asks. “You told her to break up with me.”

“No,” you say, standing up and glaring at Rafe. You can tell he does not buy it, a dark chuckle falling from his lips. “Leave Rafe. It’s a pogue party, anyways. You should not be here.”

“Well, I was invited,” he says, a smirk on his face, and you want nothing more than to slap it off. He reaches back, his arm hooking around the girl’s waist, pulling her into his side so you can fully see her. “Isn’t that, right?”

“Sure is,” she says, looking at him with a smile before looking at you. “Did not realize you had dated a pogue before.”

“It was just a bet,” Rafe says, smirking over the rim of his cup as he takes a sip.

JJ gets to his feet in an explosion of anger, but you quickly grasp his arm. You step closer to JJ. “Not worth it J,” you whisper. His eyes are angry as he tears his gaze away from Rafe to look at you. You smile weakly at the blond, his pupils dilated from his high, and you know how easily he is to rile up when high. "Let it go, please. For me?"

“It is time for you to go,” Kie says, her voice angry as she stands, Pope and John B getting to their feet shortly after.

Rafe smirks, his gaze dragging over you as the girl pats his chest. It is clear she is ready to go, but he is not. You can see him turning over various ways to get another rise out of you in his mind.

“You know what, fine. You can stay,” you snap at Rafe before grasping JJ’s hand. “We are all going to dance anyways.”

“We are?” JJ is confused by your statement.

“We are!” Sarah and Kiara agree, both taking either John B or Pope’s hand as you head away from the kook and his new girl.

“Real bold, Baby,” Rafe mutters, and you clasp JJ’s hand tighter as he tenses.

“Nope, come on,” you say sharply, and lead him into the cluster of people dancing and drinking.

The party continues into the night, but you stay away from Rafe and his date as you mingle, drink, and dance.

“More?” JJ asks, taking your empty cup after you finish tipping it back. You are exhausted, ready to crash in the sand with your friends, and nearing drunk.

“Yes, please,” you grin and watch him go before wandering back towards your group of friends, who are all settled around a new piece of driftwood, a few other fellow pogues hanging out with them.

“Can we talk?” Rafe asks his hand on your wrist, pulling you to a stop.

“No.”

He rolls his eyes, grip tightening on your wrist. “Please?”

You exhale, glancing around you for his date. “Where’s your date?”

“Carrie is saying her goodbyes.”

“Ah,” you clue in before pulling your wrist free. “You should probably head out then, Rafe. Don’t want to keep your date waiting.”

He frowns but takes a step back, and you notice the other pogues all watching. He is outnumbered here, so you know he will not push it.

“Have a nice night, Rafe,” you whisper before you step further away and leave him. You can feel his eyes burning into you as you walk away from him.

Part XIV

#outer banks #obx #rafe cameron #outer banks rafe cameron #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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izzyxalamilla · 4 months ago

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closed starter: @gavin-carrigan

where: driftwood coffee shop

Izzy had arrived at the shop too early but she was so nervous and she couldn't possibly sit at home any longer without driving herself crazy. She sat at the table in the corner of the shop, bouncing her leg as she continuously checked her phone, almost hoping that Gavin would cancel. It wasn't that she disliked him or even had a bad time with him that night, it was purely because she was afraid to tell him about Clara and absolutely terrified he'd take her to court for some kind of custody thing. Izzy kept telling herself that she was overthinking and working herself up for nothing, but she couldn't help but think these things.

For what felt like the millionth time, she heard that little chime of the bell above the entrance, signaling that someone had arrived, and she shot her head up to see if it was him. This time it was. Izzy swallowed hard and set her phone on the table as she stood and smoothed out her skirt as she waved Gavin over. "Hi!"

#c: gavin #closed starter

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ambazaar · 1 year ago

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The Bitter Taste of Hibiscus 🌺: Part 2

Shanks x oc

Synopsis: Tessa, due to a complicated past, has an opinion about pirates. An opinion that's become a bit muddled since he came to the village for the first time. It's all inconvenient, really. Falling in love.

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol Use, Facial-Related Injuries, Fluff (may be subject to change)

A/N: I've barely read or seen ANY of the manga or anime so pls don't murder me about inaccuracies. I'm in love with OPLA Shanks and needed to get my frustrations out in writing. So have a fun, angsty short story filled with fluffy goodness. Will be updating as I can.

\\\

Shortly after the Red Force settled into port, Tessa left Makino to tend to her business with the pirates. She wouldn't be caught in the middle, not with her heart racing as fast as it was and sleep coating her eyelids so heavily. She thought to look for her street urchin, but realized halfway to his nook beneath the docks that he most likely would have snuck aboard the ship by now. He'd have bolted to see Shanks the moment he woke, having been counting the days until his return, of that Tessa had no doubt. The young woman sighed, unsure of what to do.

Makino's voice rang in the back of Tessa's mind, warning her of regrets once more. But it was too early in the day to think of regrets. So, she turned back toward town, careful to avoid the main docks, and began the long trek from the beach to the cottage on the outskirts of the village.

It was a small thing, Tessa's cottage, with a charming and rustic allure. The vibrant blue of the wooden planks that adorned its exterior had long faded from the coastal sun. The once bright yellow door, now tinged with a soft gray hue, hadn't welcomed visitors aside from Makino or Luffy in years. Inside, its worn walls were decorated with flattened bouquets of flowers that Tessa had picked during her hikes through the hills and paintings by her mother that were older than she was. She hung seashells with discarded fishing wire in an intricate path connecting the only two windows, which cascaded together in blissful chimes whenever a soft breeze caught the milky, lace curtains.

A large, peculiar-shaped piece of driftwood sat above the hearth, a gift from Luffy just one year prior. Not long after the Red Hair Pirates came and left Windmill Village for the first time, he'd found the driftwood on the beach and attempted to shape it to look more like the dragon figurehead of Shanks' ship. Tessa couldn't perceive the resemblance, but she never had the heart to tell him. So, above the hearth it stayed.

Inside the cottage was cold, as she had no need to light a fire last night, having spent the entire evening at Party's with Makino. Tessa reached for the dingy, red shawl hanging beside the hearth, wrapping it around her shoulders, and went to work on starting a small fire. Moments later, she swung a kettle over the open flames and nestled into the large quilt she'd spent most of the spring working on, which draped over an old wicker chair in the corner of the open room. The salty air of the sea drifted through the windows with the cool breeze, mingling with a scent almost like cranberries as Tessa poured the boiling water from the kettle through loose hibiscus petals. It was a tart drink, but one that served better to wake her than most things. She let it rest for a moment and sat back in the chair, turning her head toward the window.

Her gaze immediately fell to the pirate ship.

Despite the feelings Tessa held for their captain, she still remained uncertain of the Red Hair Pirates. She rarely spoke to any of them, usually just in passing and never for very long, despite the fact that they'd been coming and going from Windmill Village for over a year now. They'd established a mutually beneficial relationship with the islanders over that time, so much so that greeting the pirates at port became almost a tradition for some of the villagers. But not for Tessa. It was not completely lost on her that a band of respectful sailors was possible. But a band of respectable pirates? She'd never heard of such a thing.

The first time she found herself face to face with one of them, she'd been on her way to Party's to help Makino when she collided right into Benn Beckman, the first mate. He laughed it off and advised that she should watch her step. She couldn't recall what came over her that day, but his audacity sparked a fire in her chest.

"Well excuse me, sir!" She said, her voice already loud enough for everyone near to turn their heads. "I've never been made to 'watch my step' before you lot came, bounding about like you own the place. And usually when you knock into a lady, you apologize, not laugh in her face!"

The pirate laughed again, louder and much heartier than before. The pale of her face flushed pink, the anger coursing through her overshadowing any fear that might occur from the consequences of her outburst. But to Tessa's astonishment, he simply bowed, placing a large hand over his heart, and asked for her forgiveness. She didn't know what to say or do. When he met her gaze again, a genuine smile crossed his features and she stood there, completely bewildered.

That's when she heard him for the first time, calling the first mate from beneath the canopy of Party's. "You starting trouble with the locals already, Benn?" He asked.

"No more than usual, Cap'n." As Benn passed her on the dock, Tessa's eyes rose to the man that he'd referred to as 'captain'.

He was certainly tall, much taller than Makino who stood just beside him, with vibrant red hair and a grayish cape draped across his shoulders, and on his head sat a peculiar straw hat. Peculiar because it adorned the head of a pirate captain: the most fearsome sort of man one could come across. This man, with his straw hat and charming features, didn't look dangerous. In fact, as he watched her enter the bar, she found her gaze fixated on him, not in fear but in curiosity. Specifically his eyes. Dark as pools of ink under the shade of his hat, Tessa wondered in that moment the kind of stories they held within. But, as she arrived at Makino's side, she lastly took note of the three long scars that decorated the left side of his face and steeled herself at the last second, despite the man's warm smile.

"Apologies for my first mate, miss," he said to her. "A life on the seas sometimes causes a man to forget his manners."

Something inside Tessa tensed. Makino sensed it, immediately turning to look at her friend, and saw the hard expression on her face. "I'm sure manners isn't the only thing," Tessa retorted.

Though puzzled, Shanks chuckled and smiled wider in response. Heat rose immediately through Tessa's face, which irritated her more. She finally met Makino's worried stare and said, her words heavily soaked in resentment, "Since when do we do business with pirates?" She surveyed Shanks up and down, taking in the intrigued look on his face, and practically sprinted across to the other dining hut.

Tessa looked back on that memory and cringed. She'd been so angry with Makino for helping them that day. She couldn't believe that in only a year her opinions on pirates would become so muddled. All because of Shanks and his crew. It was hard to believe there were others like them, at least for Tessa. Her own experiences with pirates had left a bitterness in her heart that cast a dark prejudice on them. So, in the beginning, she'd hated Shanks. She hated that Luffy admired him so much. She hated that the village placed their trust in him so quickly. But most of all she hated that, despite all her animosity and resentment, she'd still fallen in love with him.

She'd known it only a few months later when the pirates had returned from another trek across the seas and their captain called cheers for both her and Makino after they'd spent a whole afternoon making sure his crew was fed. She'd known it when she watched him help a young girl collect her basket of apples that had fallen to the ground, her tears shifting to laughter as he gave her words of assurance. She'd known it when he'd placed his hand over hers that night at Party's, though she hadn't been able to even look at him since. For all he knew, Tessa still hated him. But for the first time in a year, she no longer felt content keeping it that way.

There was a sudden rapping at the door, which jolted Tessa from a sleep she hadn't known she had fallen into. Luffy was standing in front of her before she could wipe the haze from her eyes. "TESSA," the boy shouted, despite the fact she was already quite awake.

"Yes, Luffy. What can I do for-"

The woman's voice caught in her throat as she finally looked upon the boy's face. Her hand instinctively flew to his cheek, her thumb hovering anxiously over the tender stitches just below his right eye. "What on Earth happened?"

"Tessa, you're not going to believe this! Look!" Luffy bounced away from her touch and stood just in front of the fireplace, the flames mere embers now; how long had she been asleep? Her eyes wouldn't leave the fresh wound on his face.

"Luffy, please. Tell me what happened!" She urged him, but alas the boy ignored her.

He raised his arm high above his head, and with a triumphant yell, swiftly thrust it forward. Tessa's breath was forcefully expelled from her lungs, leaving her feeling dizzy, as she observed the boy's arm unnaturally extending across the room, knocking her front door wide open and causing it to dislodge from the top hinge. Luffy instantly recoiled, overwhelmed by immediate regret, and looked to Tessa with sheepish guilt. "I can fix that," He said, lunging forward.

Tessa's eyes were transfixed on the boy. She observed as Luffy attempted to hoist the door back into place, but found it unable to stay by itself, and had no choice but to let it fall once again. This time, the weight proved too much for the weakened second hinge, causing the door to collapse to the ground. Overwhelmed by an immense sense of remorse, Luffy avoided Tessa's wide-eyed expression at all costs. Fortunately for him, he wouldn't have to explain.

She'd heard many stories about Devil Fruits throughout her life and the unnatural gifts they offered, but also the curse they bestowed upon whoever consumed one. A multitude of emotions swirled within Tessa's mind, yet one sensation eclipsed them all—an abrupt and profound anger that surged from the depths of her stomach, fixating on a certain captain with vibrant red hair.

I'm going to bloody kill him.

---

Part 3

#opla #one piece live action #one piece #one piece netflix #opla shanks #opla luffy #live action shanks #live action luffy #monkey d. luffy #red haired shanks #red haired pirates #shanks x oc #opla shanks x oc #shanks x reader #opla shanks x reader #reader insert

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ofmistandmire · 9 months ago

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Tokens are one of the most important traditions of Kith life, dating back to its very founding. Serving as both identification and as a blessing from the deity of a cat's chosen Path, one should never be without it. As such, the cats of The Whispering Grove begin carrying these precious ornaments from an early age, typically fashioned into necklaces worn with pride.

A Kith member's first journey outside of camp will be to choose the wood for their first token. Typically accompanied by parents or a guardian, one will search the Misty Shore for the perfect piece of driftwood, from which the Token will be carved. This important milestone also marks the beginning of one's training in the Kith. The Token will remain colorless and with only the basic Sprout insignia until all training and trials complete. The front of one’s Token represents their Path & Trade. The six deities each represent one of the Paths of the Kith. Once a Kithmate has completed their training, the deity associated with their Trade officially becomes their Major Deity. Each deity has a specific emblem which is carved on the front of the token. This means one’s Path can be identified at a glance.

The back side of the token also has a special meaning to the Kith. Once one completes their training and before they may take their place as a full fledged Kithmate, they must undertake the Trial of Roots, a test which proves one’s dedication to the Kith. In this trial, every cat enters a dreamlike state, during which a spirit will appear to bestow their wisdom and most importantly - show them a Calling & Minor Deity. The Calling can be anything, an object or item, scenery - all types of visuals are possible. A Calling represents one as an individual, and is interpreted with the help of a Seer after the Trial is complete. An image representing this Calling is carved on the back side of one’s Token and is used as a personal means of identification. Retired Kith members will reverse their Token to display the Calling side, rather than the Path, to signify that their duties to the Kith have ended. Lastly is the tokens color. A token can have up to two colors. The first resides on the front of the token and represents the color of one’s Major Deity of their chosen Path. The second color represents one’s Minor Deity and appears on the backside of the token, along with the Calling. One can also have the same color for both their Major and Minor Deity. These colors are as follows: The Chime of Frost - Blue The Herald of Thaw - Green The Veil of Rain - White The Beacon of Sun - Yellow The Temper of Wind - Red The Weaver of Withering - Purple A Token is not only a means of identification - it represents one’s spiritual connection to the deities, especially that of their Major & Minor, who are said to offer guidance and protection to their loyal followers. Your Token becomes a part and extension of yourself, and so one must treat it with great care. At the end of a cat's life, their Token is carried with them to the Slumbering Willows where it will be hung among the trees that shelter the graves of those who have also passed on. The Kith places a great importance on returning the token with the body, and believes a soul will not be able to rest peacefully without its safe return. Tokens are repaired whenever possible to avoid replacing them, and one must follow strict rituals to replace or change their token.

#wcrp #wc rp #discord rp #discord wcrp #warriors rp #warriors roleplay #warrior cats rp #warrior cats roleplay #omam-wcrp #lore #art by mod rue #silver heron

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esmaxdemirci · 4 months ago

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who: @dancingdanvers where: driftwood coffee

Esma took a deep breath, her fingers fiddling with the strap of her purse as she stood outside the small, cozy café. Maybe she wouldn't be feeling so weird about everything had Zehra not come back into her life but for some reason she was riddled with guilt. Apologizing to Sloane was something she’d thought about for a long time, but the words never seemed to come out right in her head. Today, she decided, was the day she would finally face her.

As she pushed the door open, the soft chime above the entrance heralded her arrival. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries enveloped her, momentarily calming her nerves. Green eyes scanned the room until they landed on flaming red locks.

Summoning all her courage, Esma walked over, her heart pounding in her chest. She stopped a few feet away, clearing her throat softly to get Sloane’s attention. “Sloane?” she said, her voice slightly shaky but determined. “Can we talk for a minute?”

#( c: sloane )#idk where this is going but we'll soon find out

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homenecromancer · 8 months ago

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Drugs, and psychedelic experiences, are a big part of Dune. So I want to offer a little insight into the real-life experiences Frank Herbert had with psychedelics.

This is an excerpt from chapter 7 of Dreamer of Dune, Brian Herbert’s biography of his father Frank. (At this time in the 1950s, the Herbert family had relocated to Mexico.)

We had been in Ciudad Guzman for only a few days when the retired Mexican Army general who ran the town asked to see Frank Herbert, in order to evaluate his application for an extended stay in Mexico. One of the local merchants took Dad in a truck to the general’s beautiful three-story house, where flowers hung from wrought iron balconies. The general was very friendly. Several people were in attendance, and sweet cookies were served, which Dad liked. He ate two, realizing later that the others only took one apiece.

When Dad returned to the merchant’s truck, he began to feel drunk. He told the merchant to go get their wives; they were going out to have a party. The merchant wanted no part of this, for he knew they would get into trouble. He told Dad that the cookies had been laced with the most expensive North African hashish in the world, flown in by the Mexican Air Force for the general.

Dad recalled being taken into a beautiful building and guided up a long flight of stairs to a room with a table. There the merchant and a beautiful woman filled him with six or seven cups of strong Mexican coffee. Dad came down from his hallucination, and noticed the woman was an old hag, a whorehouse madame. He left as soon as he could, and while descending the stairs noticed now that they smelled of urine, and that there was a stench of burro dung outside.

Another time, a Mexican friend gave my father a cup of tea made with “semillas” (seeds), and Dad didn’t think to ask what sort of seeds they were. After consuming the delicious beverage, he learned they were morning glory seeds. Subsequently he passed out, falling into a pleasant sleep. He recalled my mother waking him up the next morning in a sunny room.

A few months later, upon returning to the United States, Dad would have a third and final experience with a hallucinatory drug. While the first two experiences were inadvertent, the third, as I will explain later, was not.

Brian describes his father’s third experience with hallucinogens in chapter 8. (As mentioned, this was only a few months later, after the Herberts had returned to the US.)

One day he received an unsolicited package of peyote in the mail from a friend, along with instructions on how to take it. A note with the package said the stuff was guaranteed to cure writer’s block. Mom told him not to do it, to throw the stuff away. But Dad was curious. He’d never had peyote before, and proceeded to cut up an entire blossom. With this and hot water, he made a cup of tea. The instructions said to quaff it, and Dad did so. Instantly the stuff came back up, with most of the other contents of his stomach. After cleaning up, Dad didn’t feel any ill effect, and went back to writing his submarine novel at the driftwood desk.

Soon he seemed to be upon the waters of Puget Sound, with sunlight glinting off wave tops in a rhythmic pattern. He experienced sound with each beat of light—an eerie, beautiful pealing. The water was choppy, almost forming whitecaps, and sunlight glinted upon it. Suddenly he realized he was hearing each glint of light—the most dulcet, soothing chimes he had ever experienced in his life.

Thus when he wrote in the Dune series of a “vision echo,” he was writing from firsthand experience, from an experience of sensory mixing.

My father discarded the rest of the peyote, and never did anything like that again. He said the regurgitation was caused by strychnine, a white fluffy material that should have been separated from the blossom’s bud with a knife and thrown away.

#click this post to see Frank Herbert make the classic ‘eating more than one edible’ mistake #dune #marlowe talks dune #long post

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sharkbeneaththelotus · 1 year ago

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Pangzi wears Xiaoge as a backpack I HAVE TOO MANY FEELINGS ONLY PANGYE CAN CONTAIN THEM ALL:

He first does it on the way out of the desert, the sun scorching their combined backs and the air bitterly cold. Xiaoge keeps his back shaded, and Pangzi keeps Xiaoge's front warm. He's too light; his wrists dangle down like driftwood wind chimes, but he's warm and breathing.

Pangzi puts his emptied pack back on over Xiaoge, and pulls the straps tight. Ahead of them, Wu Xie slogs doggedly along the path picked out by his compass, and Pangzi puts his head down and walks.

Xiaoge breathes cool air over his sweaty neck and the fabric trapped between them grows sodden with their combined body heat. At the edges, where sweat wicks into exposed cotton, the wind chills it instantly to ice. Pangzi can't tell if that's a relief from the burning heat, or the worst shit he's ever felt. He spends way too long thinking about it, one foot in front of the other, trudging onwards towards the camp Wu Xie insists exists.

He hopes Xiaoge doesn't mind having Pangzi's sweat on him; there's no way the Great Zhang Qiling is sweating. Hah!

---

The second time is soon enough after the first that Pangzi wonders whether Xiaoge was awake enough to remember that journey, because Xiaoge fits himself onto Pangzi's back like he is a backpack.

He's exhausted, mildly feverish, and only got off the tubes and monitors a day ago. Pangzi should not have brought him out to the gardens without a wheelchair to haul him back after. But he'd needed to see Xiaoge amongst green and growing things, and he was right; Xiaoge had come alive with plants to molest with his Zhang fingers. He'd even taken his slippers off before walking on the grass, so now Pangzi has to deal with pale green stains on his trousers, where Xiaoge's feet brush against the white fabric.

"Hup we go..." He warns, and Xiaoge curls tighter over his shoulders, bony elbows jabbing his collarbones as though Xiaoge's joints are just suggestions rather than actual rules. Bony and boneless, please make your mind up, Xiaoge.

He feels Xiaoge's sigh against the back of his neck, then the press of a sharp nose against the muscles between neck and shoulder; it was too much input, Pangzi should have known it would be. Back to the quiet room in the stroke ward he goes, Xiaoge's slippers dangling from his fingers and the man himself doing half the work of holding on to Pangzi's back.

Experimentally, Pangzi lightens his grip on Xiaoge's thighs, and the grip only gets firmer.

He lets go completely, and Xiaoge hold himself in place without problem.

"Hah! I'm one big mamma, and you're a baby monkey, ah?" He jokes, putting his hands back under Xiaoge's knees so the poor man can rest a bit. Xiaoge sighs heavily and goes limp as a sand bag.

"Alright, alright, this way..."

He gets a few strange looks, and is challenged by a security guard, but the band on Xiaoge's wrist is as good as a passport, and back they go.

---

The third time, Xiaoge isn't even ill.

As far as Pangzi can tell, and he's getting good at this hazy-eyed version of their Xiaoge, he's just grumpy. Their walk through the old streets of the antiques district had been peppered with quiet announcements about fake goods, and Pangzi had had to stop Xiaoge telling the whole market about it. They couldn't take that kind of heat! And Xiaoge didn't have a sword!

He'd been able to tell at a glance, in most cases, and occasionally with a touch, and apparently he had been restraining himself for their entire acquaintance, because the twist of his lip at the worst of the forgeries is hilarious. And going to get them both beaten straight out of the market.

He gets mulish about leaving, and Pangzi off-handedly threatens to carry him back to his shop and put him up in the window for sale, at which point Xiaoge climbs onto his back and hunkers there like a barnacle.

His hood brushes against Pangzi's freshly clipped undercut, and he feels the brush of eyelashes against the skin of the back of his neck, and Xiaoge goes tense all over in a shiver, then lax again.

Pangzi grabs him under his knees, hefts him up a little, and accepts that technically he did offer.

#dmbj #Wang pangzi #pangzi #Xiaoge #zhang qiling #whump

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sohannabarberaesque · 6 months ago

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Postcards from Snagglepuss

Taking hot dog roasts to a new level of taste

SOMEWHERE ALONG THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER NEAR CASSVILLE, WISCONSIN: Picture of a twilight on the river, a hot dog roast being uppermost on our minds ahead of the evening's break from houseboating.

And uppermost on our mind, something a little more old school: as in natural-casing weiners from a meat market in Cassville, some potato hot dog buns--and for some reason, a rather amusing condiment from England which Dum-Dum found on Amazon.com, ultimately after learning of it on some Facebook page given to funny labelling and brand names.

To wit: Daddie's Sauce, a somewhat fruity-tasting brown sauce whose key component is malt vinegar. Sort of in the vein of A-1 or Heinz 57 Sauce, only the colour is a little darker and the flavour undertones more pronounced.

"Certainly quite different than ketchup," Huckleberry Hound remarked. "Which," Dum-Dum explained, "is the attraction of it."

And even when you're around a fire pit of the classic sort, sitting on lawn chairs and grilling your hot dogs on old-school wooden twigs of decent length (except for Touché Turtle, preferring his fencing foil, bent tip and all, to so roast), the taste of coarsely-ground meats in a natural casing just sizzling from a driftwood fire ... on a potato bun ... with Daddie's Sauce all around, not to mention some kettle-cooked potato chips as well ... the twilight giving way to the blue of evening ... what more could life expect?

"Oh yes--our July 4th Character Convo," Huck remarked.

"In Clear Lake, Iowa, even," yours truly replieth. "And to think I spent some interesting time there a couple years back, just wasting some time ... and let's not forget when I ran across the Cattanooga Cats in performance at the Surf Ballroom; heavens to Buddy Holley, The Big Bopper, Ritchie Valens even ..."

"I think I heard something about that encounter somewhere a while back," Bristlehound brought up. "The Cattanooga Cats ... in the Surf Ballroom, of all places!"

"All right, honey, YOU KNOOOOOOWWWWW WHAT I LIKE!!!" chimed forth all of us, channelling The Big Bopper.

"Which reminds me," Huckleberry remarked, "that I may want to do some check-ins with some of the fellow characters to remind them of same being in Clear Lake. And on the 4th of July weekend." Which was bound to take most of the night, but believe you me, thanks to text messaging, he managed to get the aide-mémoire out.

And one especially interesting response: Lippy the Lion, channelling the storied Japanese film character Tora-San, acknowledging he would be on his way.. Well ... before long, it'll be Clear Lake for us.

*************

@warnerbrosentertainment @aquablock68 @xdiver71 @indigo-corvus @zodiacfan32 @jellystone-enjoyer @archive-archives @themineralyoucrave @hanna-barbera-land @thylordshipofbutts @screamingtoosoftly @hanna-barbera-blog @thebigdingle @warnerbros-blog1 @theweekenddigest @kuni-dreamer @passionateclown @moonrock1973 @ultrakeencollectionbreadfan @warnerbrosent-blog

#hanna barbera #fanfic #fanfiction #postcarfds from the road #houseboating #postcards from snagglepuss #huckleberry hound #bristlehound #touché turtle and dum-dum #hot dog roast #weiner roast #daddie's sauce #hannabarberaforever

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braveclementine · 5 months ago

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La Push and Port Angeles

Warnings: None

Copyright: I do not own any Twilight characters or locations. I do own Davina Mikelson and Marcel. I also own the backstory for my OC. I do not condone any copying of this.

Davina P.O.V.

Dr. Cullen had been surprised when I had turned my folder into him on the same day that he had given it to me. I supposed I was supposed to have finished it over the weekend. Oh well, he should've made the questions harder then.

The week had been rather uneventful and now, I was riding up to La Push on my motorcycle. I hadn't wanted to go in Mike's car so I decided it would be better just to meet them all there. And that was exactly what I was doing.

I was ecstatic with how things were going. School was fine. I was alternating between sitting with the Cullens and sitting with Bella and her friends. Tyler and mine friendship wasn't as strong as mine and Sam's, but we still hung out a little bit.

And then of course, there was the hospital which was starting to become one of my favorite places on Earth.

I couldn't care less if Dr. Cullen and his family were vampires. Honestly, I reveled in the fact that these magical creatures existed.

I had done my research of course: Vampire Diaries, Dracula, Blood Ties, Vampire Academy, even I am Legend!

Hopefully, my hard work paid off and I knew a little more about what sorts of vampires the Cullens could be. It also got me to wondering if there were any other magical creatures that existed and whether or not they were dangerous or what sort of creature they'd be.

Part of me even suspected Sam was some sort of magical creature. He was startling tall when he'd been a shrimp at ten. Not to mention the sickening almost magical love between him and Emily. And of course, the heat of his skin. As a doctor in training, I knew he should be running a temperature and he was just fine.

But anyways. . .

Today was truly a wonderful day. It was maybe seventy-five degrees out- almost boiling hot for a place like Forks. The sun was shining and First Beach water was dark gray. I could see the rocks that made up the beach instead of sand. I knew that even though they were gray from far away, they were actually brilliant colours up close.

There were driftwood trees that were scattered hap-hazardely on the beach, white washed and bleached from the years in the sun and salt combined.

There was a forest off to the side that I was sure the Forks residents would want to go hiking through eventually. Meanwhile, there were actually quite a few people out on the water, surfing. I would have to get out on the water.

I loved the water. I loved swimming, I loved surfing and snorkeling and anything else you could do on water. I felt at home on the water.

I pulled up in the parking lot, parking next to Mike's van and then made my way down to the beach in my bathing suit and a wrap around my waist.

Mike and Bella were sitting next to each other as Mike started a driftwood fire. I watched the blue and green flames flicker up and heard Bella gasp.

". . .salt does it. Pretty, isn't it?" Mike asked, sitting back down on the log before Jessica turned to claim his attention.

"Hello Davina." Bella said as I sat down next to her.

"Hello Bella, how are you liking the sun today?" I asked cheekily.

"It's nice." Bella said quietly.

"You invited Edward on the trip, didn't you?"

"Yes, but he got all weird when I mentioned the beach." Bella replied.

"Hmm, that is strange. You're not going to prom either are you?" I asked.

"No, I plan on being out of town." Bella said. "You?"

"Eh. Tyler asked." I said, stretching back on my arms. "Along with a few dozen other boys. But I don't want to go to prom."

Bella and I chatted for another half hour about small things, sometimes with Angela chiming in on the conversation. However, as the boys got angsty about staying around the fire pit, they wanted to go hiking.

I thought that my cue to go up to the shop and rent a surfboard and wet suit. I zipped myself up in the black and blue suit, tucking the gun surfboard under my arm, making my way towards the ocean.

The minute my feet touched the water, my entire body relaxed and I closed my eyes. I was very quick to make my way out to sea, going out farther than the tourists and even the native residents.

My hands parted the water easily as I pushed myself against the waves as I prepared to stand. Once I did lift myself into a standing position, I could feel a swell of breeze as I made my way back towards the beach.

The waves weren't large today, much to my disappointment, so the ride was only gentle and calm, not adrenaline rushing like I preferred. But I wasn't really expecting anything else from Forks.

I stayed out on the water for most of the day, even when the others came out of the forest. I only went off when I saw Bella leaving with Jacob, Billy's son.

I padded over to the campfire, wincing when my feet hit the rocks. I did see an absolutely beautiful dull gold one and I picked it up.

There weren't may people from school left. Tyler and Lauren were the only ones, rummaging through CD's together.

"Hey Davina!" Tyler said as I came up, stretching. "How were the waves."

"Pathetic." I said with a grin. "I'm going to have to drive down to California to get monster waves."

I heard a sigh and I looked over to see Sam sitting with a few boys.

"Well hello Sammy boy."

One of the boys who had been drinking spit out his drink in a laugh. The other grinned.

"Hey shorty." Sam replied.

I scowled, "I can't help it if you're freakishly tall. I'm average height."

Sam laughed huskily.

"Anyways, food?" I asked.

Sam grinned, "Maybe we ate it all."

"I know you didn't because I know you knew I was on the waves which meant you knew that I was going to be hungry and you love me so where's the food?" I demanded, setting the gun board down.

Sam sighed, reaching behind him and handing me nacho doritos and a rootbeer.

I nearly squealed. "You got me rootbeer!"

"It's your favorite drink." Sam muttered.

I grinned. "Anyways, who are the ugly guys on either side of you?"

Sam snorted, "Jared and Paul."

I tried telling them apart before finally turning to the boy I suspected was Paul. "You're Paul?"

"How did you know?" Paul asked.

"You're still as scrawny as you were when you were a kid." I smirked, "I bet I could still beat you in a wrestling match."

"Oh you're on." Paul said, a maniac glint in his eye. "You're not a little girl anymore."

"No." Sam said shortly. "Not today Davina."

"Fine." I said exaggeratedly, sitting down next to Sam, making Paul budge over. I noticed his skin was also boiling hot.

"Sam said you got an internship at the hospital?" The other boy who must've been Jared asked. "How. . . is that?"

"Fine." I said with a shrug. "I've learned a lot. Dr. Cullen really knows what he's doing so-"

I closed my eyes and flinched as I felt the sticky soda explode on my left side. Paul had squeezed the can so hard it had exploded.

"Paul." Sam barked.

"I'm going to return my surfboard." I responded coolly, getting up without looking at Paul and picking up the surfboard. I made my way back to the shop, giving back the wet suit and the surfboard. I now wished I had a towel that I could use to wrap around me.

Oh well, it was just about time to go home anyways. I debated saying good-bye to Sam but decided against it.

I made my way over to the motorcycle and saw Sam leaning against it.

"Down boy." I said with a bit of a smile.

He rolled his eyes. "So endearing. I wanted to apologize for Pauls' behavior tonight. He has a lot of anger issues and he's still sorting them out."

I was quiet for a moment, looking at the sun setting, making Sam's bronze skin almost glow in the faint light. His eyes, dark and warm, yet slightly haunted from his past and possibly whatever he was going through now.

"Sam?"

He blinked at my serious tone. I was never serious.

"Yeah?"

I paused and then asked, "What are you?"

Sam didn't move a muscle staring into my eyes, gauging my reaction. I tilted my head slightly, analyzing his build. "I know. . . I know you're different. You're not the same as when we were kids. And I don't mean the build of your body, although I think the height and muscle probably contributes a bit. . . but the heat of your skin. I thought maybe it was just a native thing. . . but the man at the surfboard shop had normal temperature. And you hate the Cullens."

"I can't- Davina go home." Sam said, getting up off the motorcycle. "You watch to many movies."

"Really? I watch to many movies and I'm the fool for believing you're different? Says the guy who believes the Cullens are vampires because of your Quileute legends!"

"That's different." Sam said shortly.

I felt like I would cry. Sam was my closest friend, almost my brother. And yet he wasn't going to tell me what was with him?

"S-Sam." My voice cracked and we both winced. I sucked in breath and whispered, "Fine. I'll figure it out on my own."

I swung my leg over my motorcycle, backing it out with my feet before starting it.

"Davina." Sam said in a warning voice but I ignored him, bringing the bike to life and roaring out of there.

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

I was in a bad mood at the internship the next few days and Dr. Cullen knew it. He said nothing though, leaving me in my peace and silence. And it wasn't like I was mad at him and I didn't bring my anger out on anyone but myself.

Sometimes, I thought maybe he could hear me in the office next to him. Well, that wouldn't be a surprise. In every Vampire movie ever they had amazing hearing so there was that.

Once I finished my work, I headed to his office, taking the long way instead of the short cut, knocking on the door.

"Come in." He said.

He was working behind his desk and he didn't even look surprised to see me.

I loved his office. He had several bookcases in here that were filled with books, not all of them medical. I loved skimming them on the few days I worked in his office, in silence, on the couch. It was a rather comfortable couch and sometimes, I found myself wondering if he ever slept on it when he had long shifts at the hospital. But then I wondered if he could even sleep.

"Hello Miss Michaelson." Dr. Cullen said, putting his pen down and folding his hands on top of his desk. "Are you finished for the day?"

I hesitated and then said, "I was wondering if I could work in here today. I'm. . . just not liking the silence of my office to much. I don't mean we have to have conversation, I just want to be around someone right now."

"Of course."

Merlin I loved his voice.

I gave him a brief smile, settling on the couch. I was in a more relaxed mood and I curled up in the corner of the couch between the back of it and the arm.

The silence was comfortable and I was relaxed immensely. I didn't look at him directly, only listening and also observing.

He went very long periods without breathing and only breathed as though it was a reminder that I was in the room. Often times, when he did breathe, they were shallow and when they were deep, he clenched his pen tightly as though restraining himself. I wondered if it was my blood he could smell and if it was tempting to him.

I noticed that he usually wasn't affected by the smell of blood. He could work rather calmly and smoothly. However, when around me, he seemed to hold his breath. Why was I different? Did I smell different?

After a while, I pretended to finish my office work- cataloging real patients blood work in envelopes to be sent to their houses for cancer tests- and asked quietly. "I have a random question."

"Sure."

"If a Vampire had a mortal enemy, what do you think the magical creature would be?" I glanced at him briefly.

He looked rather taken aback and I noticed that the grip on his pen had tightened even more than when he took in his deep breaths. If he wasn't careful, he was going to crush his pen.

"I suppose a werewolf maybe?" He questioned. "I'm not really sure."

A werewolf. Yes, that made sense. Werewolves and Vampires usually were enemies. Should I go visit Sam on a full moon and see how he reacted?

"Was there a particular reason for this question Miss Michaelson?" He asked, frowning slightly.

"I was trying to figure out what Sam was." I answered honestly. "And you being a Vampire was my best source of information."

Dr. Cullen was completely frozen now and I glanced at him nonchalantly. "Dr. Cullen?"

He seemed to swallow and he asked, "I- did the kids-"

"No. No one told me." I answered, shifting into a sitting position before getting up, and sliding the completed folder onto his desk. "I just knew. Have a good day Dr. Cullen, I'll see you Wednesday."

And with that, I walked out of the room, closing the door behind me. I didn't realizing I was smiling until I started home on my motorcycle. And then I realized, Sam's a Werewolf.

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

"Would you like to go shopping with us tomorrow?" Angela asked me as I sat down next to her at the lunch table. It was day two of the Cullens not being in school which made me wonder if they actually burned in the sun.

"I thought you guys went last night?" I questioned as I helped myself to some pizza.

"Mike asked Jessica out on a date so we're going tonight instead. And even though you're not going to the dance, I knew you wanted new clothes."

"Yes, thank you. I would love to come. Here-" I wrote my address down on a piece of paper and gave it to Angela. "That's my address so Jessica knows where to pick me up."

"I'll let her know. We're leaving right after school. We'll probably pick you up last though so you'll probably have more time to get ready." Angela said.

I chuckled, "Thanks."

I hadn't seen or talked to Sam since our spat so I was stuck driving myself home now. Not that I minded, I loved riding my bike. But I also was starting to feel quite alone. It was bad enough my parents and brother were dead and I had about zero friends.

Well, let me correct. Zero real friends. I was bubbly and hyper and a complete geek and so everyone always thought that just about everyone was my friend. But when you put it to the test, it's not real friendship.

I needed Sam. It was like a heartache. I couldn't live without having Sam in my life, not here. I'd always had Sam, whether it was when we were kids, or when I lived on the army base and we wrote each other letters, or now when I moved back and he was the caring brother. I needed him.

But I was stubborn. I wanted him to come and apologize to me first. He could've just told me he was a damn werewolf. I would've kept my mouth shut. Why didn't he trust me?

My thoughts continued to run wild as I searched for an outfit that I could go out in. Finally, I chose a long sleeved-white shirt with the word Angel written on the collar in black. A red top with a pocket, zipper, and belt on it. The white shirt was tucked into my one and only skirt- which was to short to wear at the hospital.

I wished I had knee high boots to complete the look, but I just slipped on my combat boots instead. I lifted my hair into a ponytail, curling the ends of it quickly before applying dark makeup and grabbing my purse. I shoved my phone, money, and some pepper spray into the bag, slinging it across my shoulder.

I found that Jessica was just pulling up to the house, her eyes wide as she glanced at my house. Was it impressive compared to hers? I had no idea. But most of the houses here were Victorian. This was an older section of the neighborhood. They are also spread a bit further apart with large backyards as they were usually farm houses.

I opened the back door, sliding in next to Angela.

"You look cute." Jessica squealed, her eyes taking in my outfit.

"Thanks." I said, flashing her a grin.

Jessica drove fast so I knew the trip wouldn't be long. She played Led Zepplin on the radio- not really my favorite. Rock's not really my music type- and chatted all about her date with Mike yesterday. And she was talking about how she hopped they were going to get to the kissing stage by the dance.

Maybe it was because I was infatuated with a God like Vampire but I really couldn't see how anyone thought Mike was handsome, good-looking, or even cute.

Angela was a bit disappointed in the fact she was going with Eric. She liked him, but apparently he wasn't her type. I had a sneaking suspicion that her type was actually Ben Cheney, but I didn't say anything. I wasn't Jessica after all.

Port Angeles was a nice coast city. The board walk that led out to the docks and whatnot. However, Jessica and Angela took us straight to the department store. I went off on my own for just a little bit.

I wasn't really the type of girl to try something on. I just looked at it, held it up against me in the mirror, checked if it was my size, and then debated whether or not to buy it.

I bought a few new pairs of jeans, a couple skirts, a few blouses, a new leather jacket, and a few other items that I felt I needed.

I met up with the others in the shoe section, trying on heels as they already had their dresses.

I bought myself a new pair of sneakers that were gray and light pink and would go well with my nurse scrubs. I also bought myself a pair of knee high boots that complimented the outfit I was wearing right now so I tore off the tags and wore them with the outfit.

There were also heel pumps and combat boots with heels that I bought. The pumps would be for at the hospital along with the sneakers.

At the moment, Jessica was at a counter, trying jewelry. Angela was trying on pink heels at the moment.

"Angela?" Bella asked quietly.

"Yes?" Angela asked behind me. I was pretending to be bent over, fixing the zipper on the knee high boots.

"I like those." Bella said.

I glanced behind me to see the pink heel on Angela's foot.

"I think I'll get them- though they'll never match anything but the one dress," Angela muttered.

"Or a white pantsuit." I replied.

"Very true."

"Oh, go ahead- they're on sale." Bella encouraged. She looked like she was hesitating about something so I turned back around, fixing the shoe boxes in my bag. I had several bags filled with clothes and I was hoping I could put it in Jessica's car so I didn't have to carry everything around.

"Um, Angela. . . Is it normal for the. . .Cullens to be out of school a lot?"

"Yes, when the weather is good they go backpacking all the time- even the doctor. They're all real outdoorsy."

So that's why Dr. Cullen hadn't had me come in the past couple days. He had probably known the weather was going to be nice.

So if they went backpacking in the sun, did that mean they didn't burn? Or maybe they didn't go backpacking at all. Maybe they hid in the house.

"Oh." was all Bella said. Angela didn't ask any questions and neither did I. Jessica came back with rhinestone jewelry that I thought looked a bit cheap, but I supposed if it was what she wanted to wear, so be it.

Upon exiting the store laden down with shopping bags, Angela and Jessica said we could go put our things in the car before going down to the bay. Bella on the other hand wanted to go book shopping. She also denied Jessica and Angela going with her, saying she got really caught up in books.

"I'll go with her." I declared. "I absolutely love books so this could be a chance for me to get something new as well. You guys don't mind taking my stuff back to the car, do you?"

"Not at all," Angela replied sweetly and the two of them split my bags between the two of them, giving Bella directions on how to find the bookstore.

Bella and I set off in comfortable silence until we approached the place that Jessica had mentioned. However, upon looking inside, it looked more like a store that would be down on the Quileute rez. Dream catchers hung in the windows, books on healing properties, and the shelves were lined with different coloured crystals.

Bella and I looked at each other before deciding to keep on walking, looking for another bookstore.

I had a bit of a headache and as Bella and I continued to walk, I closed my eyes, hoping for relief. I hadn't drunk as much water as I should've in the past couple of days, but I had never been very good at that. I always got distracted with homework and work, forgetting to eat and drink. Plus a bit of a lack of sleep.

The next time I opened my eyes, I was basically alone. I looked around in a panic and realized that Bella was neither ahead of me, nor was she behind me.

"Ah bollocks!" I cursed. My headache started to pound. I pushed my cool hand against my forehead like that would do anything.

I pulled out my phone, calling Bella but there was no answer. Damnit, I don't even think she had a cell phone, this was her house number.

I figured, based on my slow pace so I hadn't bumped into anything, that Bella was probably ahead of me so I started walking faster, glancing down alleyways to see if I could find her.

I looked up at the sky, trying to guess what time it was. The sky was growing dark, the clouds drawing close. There was still some pink, orange, and purple in the sky so I knew it was getting very close for the sun to set and I was still riddled with indecision.

I could go back, find my way to the Italian restaurant so that I could find Angela and Jessica- and maybe Bella was there, freaking out about me being lost- or I could keep going and search for Bella.

I could hear a group of men wolf-whistling and I was slightly worried about whoever they were whistling at so I hurried around the corner, ducking into the shadows. I saw the back of Bella and felt relief wash over me. I hid as the men passed by, not noticing me crouching in the corner.

"Bella!" I called once I felt they wouldn't hear me.

Bella spun and relief flooded her face, "I couldn't find you!"

"Sorry, I. . . got distracted." I had no way to explain what had happened.

"We should probably go back." Bella mentioned.

I nodded, "Yeah, I'm getting hungry. And Jessica and Angela are probably getting pretty worried."

It was definitely darker now and we started back up the way that we had come. My senses were heightened, burning as my eyes darted around, looking for any dangers. My nerves were tingling and my hand crept into my purse for the pepper spray in case I needed to pull it out and give someone a good one.

I let Bella led as my senses were all jumbled and I couldn't exactly remember the way back. I had a tendency to get lost as I usually spaced out quite a bit.

Bella quickened her pace after throwing a glance over her shoulder and I glanced back as well before seeing two men behind us. They weren't close, about twenty feet back, but I started quickening my pace as well.

"We need to get out of here." I muttered, hooking my arm with hers.

She still led, keeping her pace quick as we made our way up. There were no cars, no people, we weren't in the right section of the city. This was bad. My nerves spiked even more and at the pace I was trying to make Bella go, she would trip over her own two feet and that wouldn't be good.

Finally, we darted around a corner before coming to a stop. There were two more men in front of us.

"There you are!" His voice was booming and my headache was back in just a few seconds.

"Yeah," the voice behind us said. "We just took a little detour."

"Right, Bella, I'll distract them. You run and get help."

"That's a bad idea Davina." Bella murmured.

I scoffed, "There's no such thing as a bad idea. Only poorly executed awesome ones."

"Is that a quote from something?" Bella asked in a panic.

"Vampire Diaries. Damon Salavatore. Season two episode 15." I rattled off confidently.

"Never seen it."

"You're totally watching it after this." I muttered. "Alright now go."

Bella took off running, past the two men in the alleyway and the four of them let her go, turning on me.

I gritted my teeth.

Alright then, show time.

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