#the day my first sewing machine died I cried for a week | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

creative-type · 4 years ago

Text

wake from death and return to life vi

AO3 First Previous Summary: Zoro had always been told that Kuina died falling down the stairs. But she didn’t fall, and she wasn’t dead.

AN: buckle up, kiddos. This is a long one

“It goes like this.”

Danny and Kuina exited the canteen line each with a bowl of rice and limp vegetables. They’d had to wait nearly an hour for even that, the Revolution carefully rationing the stores they’d raided from Tolouse’s granaries in the short time they were in control of the city. Danny claimed they had enough for at least a week of fighting, longer, perhaps, if the situation grew truly dire. Kuina couldn’t help but wonder how many of the men and women of Tolouse were allied with the Revolution simply because they filled their bellies, and how many would turn against them as their supplies dwindled.

Together, Kuina and Danny found a quiet corner and crouched down in the shadows to eat. It felt criminal, but Kuina was hungry, and she didn’t want the others to hear that she was grilling the one member of de Gris’s crew she could trust to be honest with her.

“Aria came from some Grand Line island or other known for its fencers,” Danny said in a low tone. She was just as eager to be left alone as Kuina, and perfectly happy to share the information she knew. “I heard her mother ran one of the more successful ones before she was killed in a pirate attack. It was after that Aria joined the marines.”

“I knew it!” Kuina said triumphantly. That damn coat never lied.

Danny looked at her askance, before chuckling wrly to herself. “She’s not the only one. Lyudmila was a marine, too, though not near as distinguished. When Aria left she took her ship with her, the Lady Valor. It made quite the stir at the time, I remember my parents reading about it in the paper. Of course, that was before I joined the Revolution,” she added, somewhat bitterly.

They paused as a Revolutionary wearing a tiger mask walked past. Kuina ate a few spoonfuls in silence, unwilling to admit she didn’t trust the Government-controlled news, nor care enough about world events, to bother with the paper. But before Danny had a chance to continue, the question burning at the end of her tongue spilled out. “Lady Valor…That’s something I don’t understand. Why are all her subordinates women? Doesn’t that make you conspicuous when you go from port to port? It’s not like there are that many lady sailors in the world.”

Kuina was half-afraid the other woman would laugh, or at least chastise her, but Danny simply took another bite of rice. “If I understand correctly—and mind you I heard all this second-hand; Boss gets real persnickety when asked—Aria sailed for a time under Vice Admiral Tsuru. She’s pretty famous for having an all female squadron on the Grand Line, so I guess that’s where she picked it up. But her whole crew isn’t women.”

“Just the important ones,” Kuina said, not sure if she was making a statement or asking a question.

“More or less,” Danny agreed.

Kuina scowled down in the general direction of her shoes. “That is so weird.”

“Aria has an eye for finding talent, no matter where that talent comes from,” Danny said. “There are a lot of men out there who wouldn’t even see people like us, let alone think to recruit us for the Revolution, no matter how talented we are. I mean, Dara was a street thief before Aria picked her up, and now she’s one of our best spooks, Elizabeth was on the run after accidentally causing an explosion at a marine garrison...”

“What?” Kuina interjected. “How?”

“Dust explosion with their flour supply,” Danny said. Seeing Kuina’s bug-eyed look of shock, she added hastily, “I mean, not all recruitments are that dramatic—I was only a naive apprentice stuck working under a jackass of a master when I first met her—but the point stands.” She finished the rest of her food and leaned her head back against the wall with a contented sigh. “She’s a bitch to work under sometimes, but at the time I was thankful to be free.”

“And now?”

Danny shrugged. “The Revolution isn’t for everyone. I think the next time we stop off at a base I’ll request to stay behind. Just build and fix ships, without having to worry about all this.” She gestured broadly to the streets of Tolouse.

“You can do that?” Kuina asked, surprised. “Just...ask not to fight any more?”

“Oh, sure. The Revolution is nothing about giving people the freedom of choice,” Danny said. “In fact, Aria’s crew rotates pretty frequently depending on what job she’s working on. Before you came along, Elizabeth was newest. She’s still pretty hopeless when it comes to fighting and sailcraft, so I think she’ll transfer to HQ one of these days to work on making weapons full time. Lyudmila is pretty much the only constant, but then again they left the marines together, so that’s not that a big of a surprise.”

Kuina squinted at her suspiciously. “Do you know everything about everyone?”

Danny laughed. “Well, I haven’t heard much about you. What’s your story? No, wait, let me guess—You’re a failed kabuki actor who accidentally swapped a prop sword for the real deal and killed the trope’s best actor, forcing you to go on the lam.”

Kuina couldn’t help it. She laughed. There was something about Danny’s flippant tone mixed with the ridiculousness of what she’d said that broke something within her. The tension that had been building within her since Loguetown eased from Kuina’s shoulders, and despite the smoky air, she could actually breathe.

The weak attempt at a joke wasn’t even funny. If anything, the truth that she’d revealed her face to a marine who might as well be her twin was even more ridiculous. But Kuina laughed until she cried, not caring if the people who walked past thought she was crazy, or that she’d spent her morning witnessing the aftermath of a massacre and her afternoon trying to comfort the hurt and dying.

It was infectious. Danny held back as long as she could, but soon her shoulders were shaking as she tried unsuccessfully to suppress giggles of her own. Each errant snort or cackle made the cycle start anew, each feeding into the other until their energy was spent and they were sprawled out in the street like a pair of drunks.

“That’s good. No matter what happens, you can’t forget how to laugh,” Danny said as she tried to catch her breath.

“What are you now, a sage?” Kuina asked.

“Maybe,” she said mysteriously, before falling into another fit of giggles. When she finally got herself under control, she pushed herself upright. “You never did answer the question, by the way. What are you doing here if you’re not a part of the Revolution?”

“I’m…”

“There you are.”

The shadow of Aria de Gris fell over them. The sun was sinking fast, the last rays of light skimming over the top of the barricades to shroud her in a celestial glow. Kuina suddenly felt very small and very foolish, and chided herself for being caught off guard. Hastily she got to her feet, settling her mask back over her face.

“Come on,” de Gris said, seemingly unaware of how her very presence sucked what little joy and happiness Kuina had found since leaving Loguetown. “I’ve got a job for the both of you.”

They were led inside a tiny seamstress’s shop. What little space that was available was crowded by shelves full of vibrant bolts of fabric, while spools of thread organized by color hung on racks next to mannequins draped with half-finished dresses. At the back of the shop a table had been swept away of cutting boards, material, sewing machines, and needles, dominated instead by a large map of the city.

Spooled bobbins, blue thread indicating the position of the Revolutionaries and red the Tolouse army, had been set down marking their respective positions. Kuina was no master strategist, but it seemed to her that there was a lot more red than blue. She squeezed in a small space between Danny and Dara, who had beaten them to the meeting, glad to be next to the two members of de Gris’s crew she was most familiar with.

“Alright, ladies. I know it’s been a hell of a day already, but we’ve received new orders,” de Gris said once everyone was settled. She rested her hands against the table, staring down at the bobbins as if a glare was enough to wipe them off the face of the map. “To start with some good news, earlier today Betty was able to capture a couple ships without damaging them—one military, one merchant. Incorporating them into our plans going forward will be vital to our mission’s success.”

“I’ve seen those ships, Captain,” Camille interrupted. “They’re small, and the merchant vessel isn’t outfitted for battle. I’m not sure they’ll be of much help in a fight.”

Heads around the table nodded in unison. Of de Gris’s crewmembers Kuina had already met, only Lyudmila was missing, replaced by an old woman she had never seen before. The old woman had a stoop in her back that made her even shorter than Elizabeth and wore a pair of glasses so tiny that it was a wonder she could even see through them. She appeared to only half-listen to what de Gris was saying, concentrating more on a line of snail phones laying at the edge of the map.

The communications expert, then. Danny had said something of her earlier, but Kuina couldn’t recall her name. Ignoring her for the moment, she turned her attention back to de Gris.

“The surprise attack on the square and fires have cut deeply into our numbers,” Camille said. “Even with Betty’s tropes, I don’t know how we can undo the damage that’s been done. Perhaps if Dragon had stayed…”

“Dragon had his own business to attend to,” de Gris said sharply. “And we aren’t going to use those ships to attack. Betty has decided—-and I agree—-that it’s time for our squad to pull out. Reinforcements should be arriving from the Venn Islands within the week, and we’re needed elsewhere.”

A murmur of surprise rippled through the room, and de Gris continued, “Betty’s people are gathering those who wish to escape the island, and we are to help escort them to safety with a coordinated rearguard action. Those who wish to continue the liberation effort will flee from the city to an underground cave system to the north and hopefully live to fight another day.”

“You can’t just leave them.”

Aria de Gris looked up even as Kuina regretted the words that came out of her mouth, but to her immense surprise a few heads around the table bobbed in agreement.

“We stopped them once, we can do it again,” Dara said, putting a hand on Kuina’s shoulder. Her facepaint was worse for wear, smeared in some places and scraped off entirely in others, but that didn’t put a damper on her determination. “I was out there all day, and they’re no stronger than before. They caught us by surprise. That doesn’t mean they won.”

“This isn’t about winning,” de Gris said. Her voice was cold and her eyes shifted into the same ugly look they had upon arriving at Tolouse. Elizabeth, who happened to be nearest to her, took a small step to the side, until she was touching elbows with Clara Cross.

“This isn’t about winning,” she repeated after taking a deep, cleansing breath. “Our current position is indefensible. Military reinforcements will soon arrive from outside the city, and with them is a civilian army that thinks we killed their king in cold blood. The ones Betty had been grooming to take over once we secured control were murdered when the authorities purged the unions. Even here, half the men on our side believe we set the fires that destroyed their homes and killed their loved ones. If Betty were to use her ability now, there’s a fifty-fifty chance the riots would turn on the Revolution.

“There are powers at play trying very hard to ensure that we do not claim this island. For God’s sake, use your brain,” de Gris said harshly. “Why do you think Dragon came to the East Blue? Hell, why do you think he brought us to the East Blue, if he didn’t expect some sort of foul play?”

“Then why didn’t he stick around?” Elizabeth demanded.

“Because he thought we won,” Camille said slowly, comprehension dawning as she put together what de Gris was saying. “Because we all thought we won.”

“I don’t think anyone could have predicted them blowing up their king,” Clara said.

De Gris nodded. “We’ve been had. It’s dangerous for Dragon to stay in any one place for an extended period of time, and I think our enemy realized that when planning their counterattack. If the World Government knew he was in the East Blue for weeks on end they wouldn’t hesitate to send forces after him.”

“As if the marines could defeat Dragon,” Dara snorted.

“The collateral damage would be enormous. Would any of you like to face off against a Buster Call?” She paused for effect as the faces around the table paled. “I thought not.”

Tapping a finger against the map, de Gris continued, “In any case, the Revolution doesn’t overthrow islands with the intention of taking control for ourselves. We follow the will of the people, and, unfortunately, with the stories that have been circulated island-wide, we have lost the war of public opinion. The best thing is to cut our losses and regroup for a prolonged fight elsewhere. And that fight doesn’t include us.”

She fell silent, unease settling over the crew like a lead blanket. Kuina looked down at her sword. For the most part she agreed with de Gris’s logic, but the idea of de Gris abandoning the island didn’t sit well with her. Dara and Camille’s efforts getting Betty’s people ashore safely proved that a handful of skilled fighters could turn the tide of battle. Surely the rebellion on Tolouse needed doctors, and bomb makers, and...and…

God above, she was taking their side. Kuina didn’t even have proof that their war was justified, and she wanted to stay and help them fight it. What was wrong with her? They had promised her passage to the Grand Line, she couldn’t stay here and follow her ambition at the same time.

She wondered how disappointed Zoro would be if he could see her now.

“When’s the retreat?” Danny asked, propping her head up on her chin as she looked down at the map thoughtfully.

“Tonight. I take it the Valor is ready to sail?” de Gris said.

“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t,” Danny said.

“And our snails? Trini?”

The old woman blinked as she looked up. “I have attempted several frequencies across the natural spectrum den-den mushi are capable of, and each have been jammed. That means there are a large number of horned den-den mushi active, likely spread out across the city.”

“Horned den-den mushi?” Elizabeth asked.

“A new breed of snail, dear, just developed in the last several years. Instead of sending and receiving transmissions, the horn-like protrusions on their bodies instead send bursts of white noise that overload the wavelengths the snails use to communicate. They seem to be quite contrary little creatures.”

“Seem?” de Gris said. “You’ve never handled them?”

“Until today, no.”

Trini pulled a snail from the pocket of her apron and set it on the table. It was smaller than the snail typically used for making calls, but larger than a baby den-den mushi. Two small protrusions stuck out on either side, just below the head. Twin eyestalks glared balefully up Trini, as if showing how little it appreciated being stuffed in an old woman’s pocket.

“One of the lads found him on a windowsill. Bless his heart, he brought it here not even thirty minutes ago thinking it was one of mine that had run away. As if any snail of mine would be so ornery,” Trini said. She looked back up at de Gris regretfully. “My dear, someone brought it here, likely after the barricades were placed.”

“Dear god, that means…” Danny breathed. She suddenly cut herself, unable to bring herself to say aloud what the presence of enemy snails in the heart of the Revolutionary’s stronghold meant.

“If possible, Aria, I would like more,” Trini said. “They would be invaluable to the Revolution going forward.”

“That would necessitate finding the little beasts,” de Gris said, but even then a thoughtful look crossed over her face.”

“All the literature I’ve read suggests their range is limited. And, if I might add, they block all signals, not just ours. Considering the dearth of homing pigeons of late, I can only assume that Tolouse’s network is working without difficulty,” Trini said. “The one time I was able to contact you while at sea, I happened to be outside the barricades. I believe that if the Revolution leaves the city entirely, communications should be restored without need for further intervention.”

“Assuming no one brings the little bastards along with them,” de Gris said, her eyes narrowed into slits. Her crew didn’t say a word as she silently fumed.

Suddenly de Gris slammed a fist against the table, throwing bobbins into the air and making the wood crack under the blow. “They’ve had us outplayed from the very beginning,” she said darkly. “Trini, go to Betty with what you’ve found. I want this hellhole scoured for any more of those snails before we move. Clara, get back to the wounded. Make it so that those who are healthy enough to travel can travel. Camille, Danny, get to the Valor and make sure she’s ready for a hasty exit. Dara, there should be some scouts ensuring our path of retreat is clear, I want you to help them. Elizabeth, I want anyone who comes after the Revolution’s retreat to run into some surprises along the way. Understood?”

There were a few snapped salutes, a few more, yes ma’ams, and de Gris’s crew gathered their belongings and started for the exit. Kuina alone stayed in place, closing her eyes as the Revolutionary women brushed past her to leave. Someone clasped their hand on her shoulder, but her thoughts were too jumbled to try and figure out who.

In seconds she was alone with de Gris. Slowly Kuina opened her eyes, but de Gris didn’t seem to realize that she was still there. She was still staring down at the map as if had the answers that she sought.

“Uhh...” Kuina forced herself to keep her face neutral as de Gris’s head snapped up.

De Gris’s eyes bored into her, but Kuina got the feeling that it was looking without really seeing. Her mind was too busy elsewhere. “”What do you want?”

“Am I supposed to just go with Danny?” Kuina asked. You said this was an army. What are my orders?

De Gris let out a heavy breath, fingers tapping impatiently against the table. Her eyebrows knit together in an unhappy line. “No…” she said slowly. “We need strong swords to help escort the ones who are fleeing. They’re just ordinary people. Most don’t know how to hold themselves in a fight, and I can’t trust the few who do to keep a clear head in a sticky situation.”

She paused then. So long that Kuina wondered if she’d been dismissed, but before she could take her leave, de Gris said in a low voice, “I can’t promise I can get you to the Grand Line after this.”

Kuina froze in place.

“There’s too much here that doesn’t make sense. Too many resources being used to ensure we don’t win this island. I’m not going to be satisfied with running away with my tail tucked between my legs without bloodying their nose first. My pride won’t allow it. Do you understand, Swordsman?”

“You promised,” Kuina said, the buzz in her ears making her voice sound faint and very far away. “Dragon promised!”

“I know,” de Gris said. “That’s why I’m telling you I want you on that boat with the rest of the refugees. It’s headed for a Revolutionary stronghold at the entrance of the Grand Line. From there, you’re free to do as you please.”

At first Kuina didn’t hear the words that came out of her mouth. But when they pierced through her defensive walls of anger she deflated like a punctured balloon. “You’re going to just...let me go? Even after seeing one of your bases?”

De Gris showed what she thought about Kuina selling the Revolution out with a dismissive flick of the wrist. “You said it yourself—the marines don’t like people who beat up their officers, even if the information’s good. I don’t know if that shot would have hit Elizabeth earlier today, but you saved me from having to find out. The Revolution saved your ass at Loguetown, but you’ve paid that debt. A life for a life.” She chuckled darkly to herself. “Hell, if you wanted to go out there and fight for the Tolouse army I wouldn’t stop you. But I don’t think that’s what you want, is it?”

“No, of course not.” Getting to the Grand Line was all that mattered.

“Then get out of my sight. God willing, we’ll never have to see one another again.”

Kuina’s frown deepened. It would take hours to organize the retreat. It wasn’t as if they wouldn’t cross paths before then.

Unless…

“You told everyone else what their jobs were,” Kuina said carefully, “but you never said what you’re planning to do in all this mess.”

A wolfish grin spread across de Gris’s face. “You need to get your ears checked, kid. I told you already—there are some people out there who deserve to get their noses bloody, and I’m going to make sure they get what’s coming to them.”

She turned back to the table and carefully rolled up the map. Recognizing the dismissal when she saw it, Kuina left the shop, not sure if she should be apprehensive or jealous.

Elizabeth was just outside the doorway, talking with a Revolutionary in a fox helmet. Kuina stopped, a feeling that was strangely familiar to regret washing over her. It would have been so much easier if these were bad people, but they weren't. Making a snap decision, Kuina slung her bag from her shoulder and rummaged through its contents until she found a

her few remaining bills that had survived falling into the sea.

She counted out five hundred berries and shoved them into Elizabeth’s hand, ignoring the girl’s indignant, and then confused look as she stalked away.

After all, a swordsman always paid their debts.

Xxx

The Revolutionary Kuina was partnered with described sewers as the arteries of a city. Smelly, dirty arteries that were barely passable for a healthy, able-bodied person, and the majority of the men, women, and children that fleeing Tolouse couldn’t rightly be called either.

Kuina was glad that she didn’t have the thankless task of choosing between who had the opportunity to flee and the ones forced to stay. The Revolution didn’t have nearly enough ships to accommodate those whose homes had been destroyed, and even if they did, they had to be cautious who they allowed into their secret bases scattered throughout the world.

Instead she and a man called Azem shuffled small clusters of people through the city’s underground. They were one of several teams, each taking different routes to the various boats hidden up and down the coast. The hope was that the Revolutionaries above would provide enough of a distraction to the army for them to get away safely, but the depleted numbers of the Revolution meant they had to move quickly or risk being overrun.

That was a task easier said than done. Many of the people Kuina guided were in shock, some refusing to acknowledge that they may never return to their homes. Some screamed when they were forced to leave behind treasured belongings too heavy or awkward to carry. Kuina heard enough ungrateful grumbling to last a thousand lifetimes, and those who didn’t complain wept, an overwhelming sense of fear exuding from them that was more pungent than the foulness they were forced to travel through.

It was exhausting in a way her training had never prepared her for. Kuina made the last trip with a boy strapped across her back, his little arms like vice grips around her neck. Even though she could scarcely breathe, Kuina didn’t chastise him. Strangulation was better than him crying, which seemed inevitable by his hitched, haggard breathing every time she adjusted his weight on her back.

Clasped around her hand, equally tight, was the boy’s older sister. Kuina didn’t like having only one hand free for her sword, but the girl had refused to move unless she had someone to hold on to, and no one else volunteered for the task. The clothes of both children were well cared for and they lacked the thin-limbed, gaunt look of hunger, which meant that they had had someone to watch over them at one point in time, but who that person was Kuina had no idea. Asking had made fat tears fall down the girl’s face, and she eventually decided she was better off not knowing.

Every few minutes the walls of the sewer would shake and rumble from an explosion above ground, each one dislodging bits of mortar and grime overhead and sending a jolt of increased urgency and anxiety through their small group. It was in those tensest moments that Kuina was most grateful for Azem. He was a jovial, middle aged man who chose to go without a mask, going from person to person encouraging them onward, helping stragglers, and generally keeping this last group from panicking.

It was miserable, thankless work, but finally they reached the metal rungs that would lead them to safety. Azem climbed first, pausing to listen at the cover of the manhole before lifting it aside.

“Hurry,” he urged. “There’s not much time—”

A blinding flash of light flashed in the sky above, followed immediately by a roar of fire. Those trying to flee screamed, and Kuina had to catch one who tried to run back through the tunnels even as the girl at her side tried to bury her head in Kuina’s shirt.

Azem was knocked from the ladder and landed awkwardly on the walkway below. He cried out in pain, immediately clutching at his leg.

“We’re dead! They’ve found us and now we’re dead!” a woman screamed shrilly.

“No one’s dying!” Kuina snapped. She threw the attempted runaway back into the group and pried the children off of her body, handing them off to the nearest person who seemed willing to take them before rushing to Azem.

His right leg was obviously broken, but the bone hadn’t cut through the skin. Breathing a prayer for small mercies, Kuina looked up at the uncovered manhole. The moon was bright enough to break through the haze of smoke and ash. No further sounds of fighting filtered down below, and Kuina took a deep breath.

“It looks like it was an unlucky shot,” she said, keeping her voice calm and firm. She felt dozens of eyes boring into her back as she tried to think. “I’m going up to double check. Everyone stay put—running now probably will get you killed.”

She crouched down to Azem and asked quietly, “Did you hurt anything other than the leg?”

“No,” he gasped. “I don’t think so.”

Remembering one of the tricks the doctors used back at the Oldtown hospital, Kuina checked for the pulse by his ankle and found it was still strong. He was getting blood to his foot. With nothing here to help brace it, the best thing to do was probably get him to the ships to be looked after by someone who knew what they were doing.

That meant exiting the sewers.

Taking a deep breath, Kuina began to climb, straining her ears to hear anything that might have been amiss. When she reached the surface she lifted her head out carefully. She could hear the sound of fighting, but it was still in the distance. Chewing on her bottom lip, Kuina thought hard. The Tolouse Army was never supposed to get this close. Another misfired rocket could kill her whole group, but she didn’t know any other way to the ships.

They would have to be fast, but she couldn’t let them panic. Kuina lowered herself back into the tunnel.

“Definitely an unlucky shot,” she hissed. “Come on, we’re close now.”

The people looked at one another, naked fear in their expressions, but after a few tense seconds the man who’d tried to run stepped to the rungs. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not staying here.”

After that, they started fighting one another to escape. With her partner unable to organize the chaos below, it was all Kuina could do to pull them out of the hole as fast as they could climb. With her sword sheathed and her back to any potential enemy, the minutes passed with agonizing slowness, but Kuina was able to at least get them all out of the sewers.

All except Azem.

The sound of the battle grew louder. In her gut, Kuina knew that they only had before their position would be exposed. Her eyes flickered from the refugees to Azem and back again, while the people waited anxiously for her to tell them what to do.

“Do you remember where you’re going?” Kuina asked. A few nodded their heads hesitantly. “Then run. When you reach the ship tell the Revolutionaries to prepare ready to sail; I’ll be right behind you.”

Without waiting for their response, Kuina went down to the tunnel. Azem’s eyes bulged at the sight of her. “What are you doing?” he exclaimed. “The mission—”

“Do you want to die?” Kuina said sharply. “Because if I leave you here, that’s what’s going to happen.”

Kuina glanced up, but the shadows of the refugees were already gone. She hoped the little boy had found someone to carry him.

“My life isn’t what’s important here,” Azem said. “Besides, how the hell do you expect to get me out of here? You’ve condemned us both.”

Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, Kuina threw Azem over her shoulder. He bit back a groan, and without waiting for him to argue, Kuina began to climb.

It was neither elegant nor easy, but Kuina managed to get Azem out of the sewers. The fighting was even closer now. Kuina hadn’t managed more than a few steps before she heard someone yell, followed closely by the rapport of a rifle.

Kuina had no choice. She ran, the sound of her feet pounding against the ground in rhythm with the thundering of her heart. She smelt blood, but didn’t know where it was coming from. She ignored it. She ignored everything but the urge to run.

A bullet passed by overhead. Cursing, Kuina ducked down and forced herself faster. She could see the ocean now, and the silhouette of the Revolutionary’s ship against the backdrop of the rising moon. She was so close she could taste it…

A shadowy figure stepped out of the darkness and raised a gun. Kuina tried to stop, but she was going too fast, Azem’s weight making her clumsy. The flash of the muzzle blinded her vision, bullet missing her by inches.

When Kuina finally stopped, she recognized Danny’s terrified face. The shipwright fired twice more, and behind her, Kuina heard someone scream. A broken laugh bubbled through the terror.

“What are you doing?” Kuina screamed. “You’re supposed to be at the ship!”

“I...I couldn’t do it,” Danny said. “I can’t keep living like this. Weren’t you listening earlier? There a traitor leaking information to the marines. I know how Aria is. She won’t stop until she gets everyone under her command killed trying to figure out who.”

Danny fired twice more, and would have kept firing, except she’d run out of bullets. She had the wide-eyed look of a spooked horse and obviously wasn't thinking clearly. Kuina risked a glance behind her and swore. The battle was coming to them, and there was no time left to argue.

“Hold on Azem, almost there,” Kuina whispered, and once again she ran, grabbing Danny as she passed.

“I knew you’d understand,” she gasped. “That’s why I waited, I was so scared when you didn’t come with the rest, I thought you’d gone back to fight…”

“Less talking, more running,” Kuina growled. “I can’t carry the both of you—”

Sudden pain exploded in the back of her head. She barely felt the jolt as she collapsed to her knees, Azem sliding out of her arms, and was unconscious before ever hitting the ground

Xxx

Kuina woke in a dark, dingy room that smelled of shit and sweat. Clumsily she brought a hand to the back of her head, only to have it come back wet and sticky with blood. Even in the darkness she could feel the press of humanity around her, too many bodies in too close a space.

Someone had taken her sword.

“Wha...what happened?” she groaned. Slowly her eyes adjusted to the dark, and she felt the gentle rock of water. A ship. She was on a ship.

Beams of moonlight came in from a hatch above, where bars of iron locked them away from their freedom. So not just a ship, she was in a brig. Groggily, Kuina got to her feet and looked around her, lurching forward without having any real idea where she was going.

Someone tugged on her shirt. Kuina looked down to see the girl she’d helped guide through the sewers. De Gris said the Revolution had commandeered a military vessel, but there was no reason to force the refugees into a literal prison. Unless that was their way of hiding them until they reached their base on the Grand Line? It was the only explanation that made sense. Kuina couldn’t think. It hurt too much.

“Danny?” she groaned. “Azem?”

“They brought you in alone,” a man said hoarsely. Kuina recognized him, too. He’d tried to run away when Azem fell. The shadows of the night made the hollows of his cheeks seem deeper, his eyes more hopeless.

“I don’t understand. What’s going on?” Kuina said.

“They captured us. Now they’re going to take us with all the rest.”

The words made someone else burst into a sob. Kuina looked all around, but only grew more confused. None of them were bound, yet they weren’t trying to escape. Nor was anyone in hysterics, or screaming for help. All around her Kuina saw faces drawn in weary resignation, as if they weren’t surprised by this turn of events.

“Take us with all the rest...where?” Kuina asked.

The man laughed a thin, reedy laugh. “They didn’t tell you? All criminals on Tolouse get shipped to Tequila Wolf. Damn you and your revolution, at least back home we could have died like men. You people have—” He cut himself off suddenly and turned his back on Kuina. “I hope you’re happy with yourself. Because of you, we’re all going to die.”

Kuina felt as if she’d been plunged in a bucket of ice water, but anger fueled by pain and confusion quickly burned through the shock. “No one forced you to come. You could have stayed and fought for your home, but you chose to flee. That’s not my fault.”

“I saw my wife burn!” the man screamed. “What was I supposed to do? I was a bricklayer, for god’s sake. I don’t know how to hold a sword or fire a gun. I didn’t ask for you to come, I didn’t want to fight!”

He came so close that Kuina began to see double, and for a moment it looked as if he might try to hit her. Kuina didn’t flinch as he grabbed a fist full of her jacket. Didn’t look away from the anguish burning in his eyes.

The only sound was of his labored breathing, his breath hot on her face. Still Kuina did not move. Then, all at once, his lip quivered, a tear slipping from the corner of his eye. Kuina could do nothing as the man in front of her broke. Her jacket slid through his fingers as he slumped to his knees, face crumpled in abject misery before he buried it in his arms and wept.

“I remember when they took my uncle,” a woman said. “They stole him right from his bed, and we never saw him again.”

“The bastards got my best friend. Said he’d been stirring up sedition, whatever that means,” another said bitterly. “Found out later it was someone else handing out those fliers, but when we went to the judge asking them to bring him back he said there was nothing he could do.”

Others murmured in agreement, telling stories of other people They had gotten in the samed hushed tones children used for ghost stories, and with the same bone-chilling effect. Unease setting her teeth on edge, Kuina kneeled down to the man in front of her. Body-wracking sobs had overtaken him, and no matter what she did, Kuina couldn’t get him to even look at her.

The little girl pressed closer to her side, eyes wide as saucers. Kuina looked down at her and asked, “I don’t suppose you can tell me what Tequila Wolf is?”

When she spoke, the words came out in a little puff of air that scarcely bridged the distance between them. “It’s a place where bad people go until they learn how to be good.”

If the stories swirling around them were any indication, being good was a feat few managed to achieve. Head pounding, Kuina got to her feet and tried to think. The ship wasn’t sailing yet, but likely would be soon. She had to strain, but she could still hear the sounds of battle. Which she supposed was a good thing as it meant the Revolution hadn’t been overrun, but the plan had only been for short, distracting skirmishes to pull the Tolouse army’s attention away from the various retreats. They weren’t prepared to get dragged into a headon clash tonight.

There’s a traitor. Danny’s words rang in Kuina’s mind. That must have been how they knew to target the transport ships. Kuina didn’t know if any of the other ship’s locations had been compromised, but had to assume the worst. The Revolution’s closest reinforcements were still on the Venn Islands. No one was coming to rescue them once they got out to sea.

“Where’s your brother?” Kuina asked.

The girl shrugged. “They said he was too little and took him away. Can you find him? Please?”

Boots marched on the decks overhead. Over the murmuring of the captives Kuina heard the orders to raise anchor. Her eyes darted around looking for some escape, but it was a brig. Even if she stood on someone’s shoulders she didn’t think she’d be tall enough to reach the metal bars separating her from freedom.

If only I had my sword. But no. They’d taken it from her, along with her backpack and mask, and with her time and options dwindling to nothing, Kuina didn’t know what she was supposed to do.

It quickly became apparent that she couldn’t escape on her own, and the people around her were too busy wallowing in their own misery to be of much help. If she were somehow able to convince the sailors above she wasn’t a Revolutionary then maybe they might let her go, but based on the stories she was hearing even that seemed doubtful.

Kuina’s thought up and discarded several ideas in rapid succession, each more unlikely than the last, until she stumbled upon an idea that was insane enough to be worth trying. Not giving herself a chance to second guess her own stupidity, Kuina pushed through the crowd of people until she was directly under the hatch and bellowed at the top of her lungs,

“My name is Master Chief Petty Officer Tashigi of the 223rd Division, and I demand to speak with the captain of this ship!”

Ignoring the gasps of surprise from the Tolouse refugees, she cupped her hands against her face and repeated her demand. Her heart sank as she got no immediate answer, but she had never been one to let something as trifling as disappointment stop her before. Kuina bellowed her doppleganger’s name and rank again and again and again, until her voice cracked and her throat burned. Even if they did not believe her, Kuina hoped to at least annoy them enough to send someone to shut her up.

It took a few minutes of arduous effort, but eventually a head leaned over the iron bars, casting a shadow over Kuina. “Quit your hollering,” the sailor snapped. “I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish, but I know for a fact there ain’t no marines in Tolouse.”

“I’m not from Tolouse you imbecile,” Kuina retorted. She tried to ape the same haughty manner she saw in the officers that came through Loguetown. It took a certain level of imperiousness that the real Tashigi had never managed to grasp, but this idiot wouldn’t know the difference. “Under the orders of Captain Smoker, I infiltrated a Revolutionary ship docked at Loguetown pretending to be a sympathizer. We had hoped to find out what the Revolutionary leader Dragon was doing stinking up our waters and would have notified local authorities through the proper channels if someone hadn’t decided to put horned snails all over the city.”

“The marines know better than to—”

“Do you think Captain Smoker has ever let anyone tell him what to do?” Kuina said, somehow managing to keep her voice cool and collected even as she scrambled for excuses. “I’m sure he’ll be pleased as punch when I tell him you assholes forced me to blow my cover. Or would you rather wait until I get to Tequila Wolf to deliver that bit of news?”

The sailor gulped. It seemed that Smoker’s reputation traveled farther than expected.

“I’m waiting,” Kuina said after giving the implications sink in properly.

“I, uh...I need to run this by my captain,” the sailor said. “If you don’t mind, can I have your identification number, just to be safe?”

Kuina gave it, having memorized Tashigi’s military ID through sheer repetition after years of filling paperwork verifying bounties. Between that and all the times Tashigi used Ipponmatsu’s shop to clean her sword, Kuina knew enough of her personal information to satisfy any interrogator, but if they actually contacted the base in Loguetown she was done for.

She held her breath as the sailor disappeared. Kuina hardly paid attention when one of the Tolouse refugees approached, an old woman that Kuina remembered having to carry through parts of the journey through the sewers.

“What is it?” Kuina asked impatiently.

“How dare you,” the woman said, her voice barely contained fury. “How dare the marines show their face here, after all you’ve done.”

She slapped Kuina across the face, hard, and spit at her feet. Kuina brought a hand to her now-burning cheek in shock, saying nothing as a wave of vitriol spilled from the old woman’s mouth. It was only when the woman raised her hand again Kuina moved, effortlessly catching her wrist.

“I let you hit me once, in deference to your age and obvious distress,” Kuina said in a low, dangerous voice, “but I will not suffer that indignity twice. You know nothing about me or my purpose for coming here, so shut up and leave me alone.” She shoved the hand away, causing the old woman to stumble back.

Kuina eyed the rest warily, but they were too afraid to challenge her. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck, mixing with the blood from the blow to the back of her skull. Her head pounded, making it hard to think much past the fear.

If I just had my sword…

It felt like an eternity past, but in all likelihood it had only been minutes before the sailor came back, this time with friends. He unlocked the hatch, swinging it open before lowering down a ladder. Kuina climbed her way to freedom, while the sailors used the butts of their rifles to keep any of the other prisoners from doing the same.

Kuina wasn’t sure she had ever been more glad for the fresh sea air, but one look at the sailors showed she wasn’t out of the woods yet. One sailor with a no-nonsense buzz cut and a muscular frame so compact it was nearly square snapped a salute, acting as the leader for the rest. “Our apologies for the inconvenience, Petty Officer, but the captain would like to speak with you.”

“I want my sword,” Kuina said.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but—”

“Someone knocked me unconscious this evening, sailor, and I don’t think it was the Revolution,” Kuina said. “Give me my sword or put me back in the brig and wait for Tequila Wolf. Your choice.”

“I...er, yes, ma’am. What I was trying to say was that your belongings have already been taken to the captain’s quarters.”

“...Oh.” Kuina almost apologized, but managed to stop herself in time. She’d never met a marine who would admit fault if they could help it, Tashigi being the exception that proved that rule. Instead she nodded curtly, and Buzz Cut snapped an order that was hastily obeyed by a pudgy-faced boy who didn’t look old enough to shave.

Kuina glanced out at Tolouse before letting them take her into the captain’s quarters. Explosions burst through the sky like fireworks in a New Year celebration, lighting up a skyline that flickered red and orange. The fires the Revolution had worked so hard to put out were back in full force, and under the light of the moon, Tolouse had transformed to hell on earth. And with the fighting still going in earnest, there wasn’t any way to stop it.

“There was a boy with this group of prisoners, couldn’t have been much older than five,” Kuina said. “Where is he?”

Buzz Cut’s poker face was excellent, his subordinates’, less so. Shame-faced, the pudgy boy opened the door to the captain’s quarters and bid her to enter. Frowning, Kuina squared her shoulders and tried to make herself as intimidating as a person who smelled like a sewer possibly could.

Buzz Cut didn’t even wait for Kuina to fully enter before he began shouting orders. “Prepare to sail. We’ve wasted too much time already.”

“No.”

Buzz Cut turned to Kuina in shock. “Petty Officer, with all due respect—”

“I said no,” Kuina said coldly. “And until I get in contact with Captain Smoker, I’m the voice of the World Government for this entire damn island. Right now you’d have better luck arguing with god than getting me to change my mind.”

Laughter rumbled deep within the captain’s quarters that made a chill crawl up Kuina’s spine. “My, my, my, look how assertive you’ve gotten since we’ve last met. I’ll admit, I didn’t think you had it in you, Petty Officer.”

Sitting behind an ornately carved desk was a tall, broad-shouldered man wearing the long coat and epaulettes of a captain. His face might have been handsome once, but his features had the squashed, lumpy look of a brawler who’d lost more fights than they won. A saber hung at his hip.

“Close the door,” the captain said.

“But sir,” Buzz Cut protested, “our orders…”

“Our orders can wait the few minutes it will take to put our marine friend at ease. Now, shut the door. Please.”

While framed as a request, the order was anything but. Buzz Cut swallowed loudly and did as he was told. When they were alone, the captain reached behind his desk and retrieved Kuina’s sword. “I see you’re as obsessed as ever ‘bout your steel, Petty Officer. Always thought it were a shame you got leashed that wild dog Smoker, and it seems he’s baying just as loud as ever. You deserve a better sort of man than him.”

He laughed again, the sound like a rusty knife drug over stone. Confused and more than a little suspicious, Kuina quickly inspected its blade. When she was satisfied it hadn’t been damaged or tampered with, Kuina hung it at her hip.

“Do I know you?” she asked. The words had hardly escaped her lips before she regretted them, but the man snorted.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me already, Petty Officer. It’ll wound me manly pride.” His grin widened, revealing a mouth full of blackened, rotting teeth. “Or are you really that blind without your glasses?”

“I’d like to think I purposefully forgot to save myself the pain of remembering that ugly mug of yours,” Kuina said. “Now identify yourself! What in the world is going on here? Why do you have children in your brig?”

“Is that what this is about?” the man said, sounding disappointed. “Smoker was the same way when I spoke to him last year. You soft-hearted types are why the world’s going to shit. You know as well as I do that age doesn’t matter when it comes to criminals. We have legal justification for every one of those rebels we locked up. Excusing your pretty face, o’ course. Or did you somehow miss the fucking war right outside these doors?”

Kuina balled her hands into fists and didn’t answer.

A look of satisfaction spread across the captain’s face. He bowed slightly, with a little, mocking flourish that made Kuina want to punch him in his ugly, leering face. “Captain Jack O’Neil at your service, of the Callihan Trading Company. It’s a pleasure to remake your acquaintance, Petty Officer. To be honest, it’s been far too long since a lady of your caliber graced these planks, and I’m sorry one of my men had to crack your skull to do it. Once we get this sorted I’ll have my men do everything in our power to ensure your stay on my ship is a comfortable one.”

Kuina’s frown deepened. She’d heard of the CTC—they were forever hanging advertisements near the docks of Loguetown in search of sailors and hired swords to protect their wares from pirates.There’d been a time when she’d been tempted to sign up for a voyage, but when she went to inquire about the post she was laughed out of the room by a pair of burly men with more muscles than sense.

The company dabbled in everything from the spice trade to arms transport and weren’t particularly picky about who they worked for. There were even rumors that pirates and crime lords used them as a front for their smuggling operations, but Kuina had always dismissed them as overblown talk from jealous competitors.

She was beginning to think now that there was some truth behind those allegations.

Jack O’Neil cleared his throat when the silence stretched a beat too long to remain comfortable. “You and I both know that all this destruction could have been avoided if not for these rebels. You agree that the perpetrators need to be punished, doncha, Petty Officer?”

Kuina's eyes hardened. “The boy. Where is he?”

“Expedited sentence,” O’Neil said with a shrug. “Couldn’t be helped, ones that little are no good for hard labor. It’s the same with the known Revolutionaries, they’re too much of a risk to imprison, and the money on their heads is good even if we turn ‘em in cold. It’s just good business. You understand how it is.”

He’d killed him. The monster in front of her had killed a child in cold blood. He’d killed Azem. He’d killed Danny, who regretted joining the Revolution and had been trying to escape a life of violence and death.

Kuina’s world went red.

“No, Captain. I’m afraid I don’t.”

It was now O’Neil’s turn for silence. He squinted down at Kuina, perplexed and exasperated. “Did that blow to the head knock your common sense loose, Petty Officer? I don’t you recall you bein’ half this mouthy before, or didja spend enough time with the menfolk that you finally grew a pair of—”

Kuina struck before he could even think to move. A gurgled scream tore from his lips as O’Neil grasped the wound at the base of his throat. His eyes bulged in terror and pain, one hand trying to stem the bleeding while the other reached for the sword at his side.

Kuina didn’t give him the chance.

Stepping over O’Neil’s rapidly-cooling body. Behind his desk she found her bag, which had obviously been searched through and hastily repacked, and her mask. She put the latter in her bag after wrapping it in a shirt to keep it from breaking and slung it over her shoulder.

She wanted them to see her face before they died.

A den-den mushi at the corner of O’Neil’s desk caught her eye. It was attached to a machine that allowed faxes, and Kuina laughed when she saw that it hadn’t been used. The idiot captain hadn’t bothered to verify her story, trusting that he’d be able to recognize Tashigi on sight.

There were papers, too. Logs and ledgers and a map of the area. Kuina was in the process of stuffing them in her backpack when the door to the office opened, revealing the face of the pudgy boy.

“I’m sorry, sir, but Mo wanted to know if we had permission to set sail yet. He says it’s getting bad…”

His voice trailed off into a whisper as his eyes followed the path of blood from O’Neil to Kuina. He stood, slack jawed and wide-eyed, swaying gently on his feet as if he were about to faint.

“Whu...what happened?”

Kuina leveled her sword at the boy. “Get off this ship, or I will kill you.”

The boy flinched. Kuina didn’t know if it was an attempt to draw his weapon or a visceral response to fear, but she took no chances. The boy screamed as she darted forward, but remained firmly rooted in place. He quickly joined his captain in death.

The advantage of stealth was gone with the cry of alarm. If nothing else, the men waiting on deck were professionals and quickly recovered from their initial shock. Kuina dodged the blow from a cutlass, her counter catching him on the wrist. The sailor screamed, clutching the bloody stump where his hand used to be.

“Call the alarm!” Buzz Cut bellowed, deflecting Kuina’s katana as she rushed toward him. “Bring reinforcements!”

Kuina ducked to avoid another slash, and was forced to roll to avoid being shot. She cursed as more men crawled out of the bowels of the ship like ants from an overturned hill. She disentangled herself from a block and cut down two more, managing to hamstrung a third before crossing blades with Buzz Cut once more.

“What are you doing?” he screamed. “We’re on the same side!”

“I don’t think we are,” Kuina said coldly. With a twist of her wrist she batted his sword aside and ran him through.

That was a mistake. Buzz Cut coughed bloody foam as he slumped to the ground, and it took Kuina too long to dislodge her sword from his body. She was forced to twist awkwardly to avoid the crushing blow of a weighted club, and doing so put her right in the path of another sailor’s saber.

Pure reflex saved Kuina from decapitation. She danced away from the saber, trying to keep herself in the middle of a crowd, using the threat of friendly fire to dissuade them from shooting. She was quickly surrounded, and a feral grin spread across her face. A distress flare shot into the night sky, burning boldly over the stolen ship.

This was it. This was where she belonged, with a blade in hand and nothing but her skill and fickle fortune between her from death. All the worry and anxiety of the last week melted away, replaced with pure bloodlust fueled by her fury.

“Gods above, she’s gone mad,” one of the sailors whispered, and the mixture of fear and awe like music to her ears.

It was the last thing she heard for a long time.

Xxx

Kuina came to her senses covered in blood that was not her own. She found herself standing over the Buzz Cut sailor, who was miraculously still alive, gasping erratically and frantically for air. Under the light of the moon the blood that bubbled out of the cut in his chest looked black. Pausing to flick the excess blood off her katana, Kuina kneeled beside him. He couldn’t die yet. Not when there was so much she didn’t know.

“Who hired you?” she asked calmly. “It’s not marines, or else they would have messaged Loguetown. Who’s paining you to murder little children.”

“You’re too late, bitch. Help is coming. Gemini will cut you down.” He looked weakly to the side and laughed. “They’re here already.”

Kuina followed his gaze. Soldiers were marching towards the ship, too many for any one person to deal with. Getting back to her feet, Kuina hurried to the brig. She had to shove aside a body before she could open it and lower the ladder.

“Do any of you know how to sail a ship?” Kuina called. To her surprise, the Tolouse refugees huddled in the corners, packed as close to one another as they could manage and refusing to move. Belatedly she realized they had no idea what happened other than what they’d overheard above. Drops of blood continued to drop down below.

“You’re safe,” she said. “None of them can hurt you, but you need to leave now.”

“And go where?” one asked. “I don’t know who you are, but the Revolutionaries who promised to get us to safety are dead.”

“And you’re about to join them if you don’t hurry up!” Kuina snapped. She looked over her shoulder. The soldiers were even closer now, and her energy was spent. A dozen shallow wounds slowed her movements, the blood loss making her vision hazy. And on top of it all, she had a pounding headache that would not stop.

“Look,” Kuina said to the terrified men and women below, “I can’t tell you where to go. No one, not even the Revolutionary Army, has the right to do that. But what I can do is buy you time to make that decision. For your sake, I hope it’s a quick one.”

She walked to the ship’s railing. The dying sailor laughed as she passed, and in a weak, sneering voice said, “What do you hope to accomplish, brat? They’ll be recaptured within the day. All you’ve done is prolong their execution.”

Kuina paused, looking down at the oncoming army, rage building once more as all the atrocities that she’d seen since arriving to Tolouse flashed through her mind: The bombing of the square, the fires, the desecration of the dead.

She remembered Danny and Azem, and the small, strong hands of the little boy grasping her neck. She remembered, and she felt the weight of unbalanced scales.

A life for a life. It was a saying that went both ways, and for the first time she thought she understood Aria de Gris’s desire to bloody some noses.

Kuina jumped down from the ship and landed in a summersault on the docks. Her arms trembled with fatigue and exhilaration as she raised her sword. She felt the heat and the smoke mix with the mists rolling off of the sea, obscuring the mass of bodies wearing the uniforms of the Tolouse army coming toward her.

Her blood hummed with anticipation. This was what she was made for. This was her purpose. Kuina couldn’t sail a ship. She couldn’t heal wounds or cook food or build ships or inspire others. But she could fight. She loved to fight, loved the synergy between body and blade. There was something beautiful testing her strength against another, her life hanging in the balance.

In the haze Kuina was almost invincible, striking down enemies before they knew she was there. Unlike the frenzied battle of the ship, this cat and mouse style suited the skills she’d honed over her years of bounty hunting.

The difference was she now had nowhere to retreat. Until the ship behind her set sail she couldn’t give up a single inch of ground. For the first time in her life, Kuina could not run.

And for the first time since she was eleven years old, Kuina felt alive.

It didn’t take long for the Tolouse army to retreat from the docks. Kuina couldn’t help but laugh as she caught her breath, allowing herself to believe for a brief moment that she’d won.

Then she heard orders being barked into snail phones, and in the distance saw the flash of matches being lit.

They had cannons.

Kuina jumped in the air in time to intercept the first shot with no thought other than to protect the ship behind her. She screamed as she slashed downward, cutting the iron cannonball neatly in two. The halves exploded on either side of her, momentarily filling the air with brilliant light.

She landed in a predator’s crouch, gasping for air. There was no time to process what she’d just done, because more shots followed the first, punctuated with the sharper fire of rifles.

Kuina cut a second cannonball just as easily as the first, but as she landed a third slammed into the docks behind her. Wood exploded, and the concussive blast of air threw Kuina onto the shore. The air was forced from her lungs, her katana thrown from her grasp. Kuina clasped her hands against her ears to stop the ringing, curled helplessly in a ball.

Get up!

She couldn’t. It hurt too much, and her body was too weak. Kuina dug her fingers into the sand and pushed, but there was nothing left for her to give.

You promised!

She’d promised a lot of things. She’d promised her father that she’d stay safe, and the refugees that she would buy them time, and herself that she would avenge the dead of Tolouse. Kuina had proven herself a liar time and time again. What chance did she have of fulfilling her promise to Zoro if she couldn’t manage something as simple as that?

So get up. Keep fighting.

Kuina groaned, a low, keening noise drawn directly from her soul. She rested her arms against the beach as the last of her strength bled from her limbs. Something brushed against her hand, and instinctively Kuina reached for it.

Her sword.

Kuina’s fingers wrapped around the wrapped leather handle. Was this how she wanted to die, like a dog beaten one too many times? Or would she fight with pride? With honor?

I’m going to be the greatest swordsman in the world, or die trying. Slowly Kuina rose to her feet. Decision made, there was nothing else to worry about. Nothing that required her to think. Bruised and bloody, Kuina raised her sword one last time just as the first rays of dawn spilled over the horizon.

The enemy came, and Kuina defeated them all. She didn’t care if they shot or stabbed at her. She didn’t care about anything at all.

The earlier bloodlust was gone, replaced with the mechanical, instinctive movements of a woman who’d spent her life learning to kill. The sun rose and the bodies multiplied, but Kuina didn’t stop. Cut by cut, slash by slash, the only thing that kept her moving was the strength of her ambition.

She didn’t know how long she lasted before she missed a parry, her opponent’s sword gliding against her arm. She stumbled back into the rising tide, her back hitting one of the few remaining posts of the splintered dock. It was the only thing that kept her upright as she ducked under the following slash. Blackness ate at the edge of her vision, her lungs burning for want of air. She knew she wouldn’t be able to raise her sword in time.

Her opponent looked just like all the rest, just another young man wearing the grey uniform of the Tolouse army. There was nothing to differentiate him from the hundreds of others she’d seen since the night began. And yet, he would be the one to kill her.

Kuina laughed at the absurdity of it all.

The man yelled as he swung his sword. Kuina closed her eyes and waited, smile still spread across her face. But instead of death there was only a choked scream and the sound of a full grown man falling into the water.

Kuina blinked her eyes open. A figure in full armor, helmet shaped like a roaring lion, pulled a thin blade from the young soldier’s back. Kuina blinked again as the rising sun glinted off the polished steel, seeing but not understanding.

Then she felt it, a presence like wind swirling around the eye of a hurricane. Whoever this person was, was the real deal. A true swordsman.

“Wanna fight?” Kuina gasped, drawing enough energy to spit a mouth full of blood into the sea before raising her sword.

“It’s over, kid. You did good.”

“Did...good?” Kuina tried to take a step forward, but her vision went sideways. The armored swordsman caught her before she hit the ground. When Kuina looked up again the helmet was gone, and she stared into the dark eyes of Aria de Gris.

“C’mon. Let’s get you home.”

#one piece #One Piece Fanfiction #creative-type writes #kuina #wake from death (and return to life)

4 notes · View notes

jupitermelichios · 5 years ago

Text

Jupiter’s Top 10 Fic Series of the Decade

In no particular order (and belonging to no particular fandom)

Honourable Mentions: Of Hunters & Hellblazers by KittyAug - Self Help by maskedfangirl - Bad Jokes by hahaharley - Doubtful Sanity by DustToDust - Wilton’s Bakery ‘Verse by machine_dove & sproings - Sic Gorgiamus Allos Subjectatos Nunc by etothepii - New Favourite F Word by Polaris - little beasts by noctiphany & likewinning

drawn into something by Nonymos (Venom, Eddie/Venom, Dan/Anne, Eddie/Venom/Dan/Anne)

“Eddie, you… and him.”

“Yeah.” Eddie stares at the floor. “And… and look, Annie, I know it’s weird, but I can explain, I…”

His voice breaks, he’s damn near tearing up, panic rising again—and he jumps when Anne cups his face.

“Hey, it’s—it’s all right, Eddie.” She’s making a valiant effort to smile. “Don’t get so worked up. I’m not gonna run screaming.”

“No?” He laughs and sniffs. “Damn. Starting to wonder what it’s gonna take, at this point.”

This is not Nonymos’s only entry on this list. In fact they may just be my favourite fanfic author of all time. Drawn into something is everything everything I want from a Venom sequel, emotional, kinky, romantic, and poly.

OTP: Fight Club by MorganOfTheFey (Detroit: Become Human, RK900/Gavin)

"One hundred. Ten X," Nines says, voice flat enough it almost doesn't sound like bragging. "I would have been decommissioned otherwise."

"Ohhhh. Aw, that's sad. Just," She tries to snap her fingers and gets distracted for a moment when she can't. "Jus'like that?"

"Yeah RK, that's so sad," Gavin echoes. "Can you play yourself despacito?"

His own phone blares the song barely a second later. Gavin drops a few f-bombs fumbling to get it out of his jacket pocket and turn it off. Then as soon as he puts it back in his pocket, it starts up again.

"Thank you for the suggestion, detective," RK900 says. "This is making me feel better."

The fourth part of this is still coming out, and it’s the highlight of my week when the new chapter drops.

Dreams of the Waking Man by Lex_Munroe (Marvel Comics, Wade/Cable, Daken/Bullseye, Wade & Hope)

All at once, it hurts. It hurts worse than the day Nate died (because Wade couldn’t accept it back then, insisted that Nate had managed to timeslide out, that the busted old telemetry circuit would only let him go forward and he was just lost for a little while).

He sits in the middle of the floor, ducks his head, cries.

She was smarter than he was—than he is. She’d known all along. Brave girl.

Timesliding doesn’t work right on Wade, never has, and their cobbled-together sliding module barely had power to take one stringy teenager for one jump.

She’d known she was leaving her parents, that she certainly wouldn’t see one of them again and quite possibly wouldn’t see the other.

Wade allows himself a moment more for grief and shame and humility. Then he clears his throat and wipes his eyes and gets back to work.

This may be the cleverest fic I’ve ever read. Crossovers, theoretical physics, and the best love story Marvel never wrote.

The Mountains Are The Same by bonehandledknife & Primarybufferpanel (Mad Max: Fury Road, Furiosa/Max, Furiosa/Ace, Everyone & Healthy Coping Mechanisms)

“'Real isn’t how you are made’” Gilly said with the air of a quote, of a Remembering, “'It’s a thing that happens to you.’”

Rotor closed his eyes in a long blink, “A thing that hurts, innit it right?”

“Sometimes,” Gilly agreed, squeezing his hand, “That’s life though, when you are Real. We all become it bit by bit. But it doesn’t happen if you’re not strong, if you’re not soft, if you’re not sturdy.”

“ But how can y'be all of those at once ?” he wheezed out. It’s getting hard to catch his breath.

“You are all that right now, aren’t you?” Gilly asked him with piercing eyes, “No one else of all these Boys has had the strength to ask for me. And I will Witness you as I have kept all those of my sisters who’ve fallen these past days.”

This series is not always easy, it doesn’t shy away from the hard or the dark or the painful, but it is always worth reading.

The Unspoken Truth by Nonymos (MCU, Clint/Loki)

Barton glared at him like he was trying to decide whether he was being mocked or not, but the next second, his shoulders slumped. Loki was familiar with the feeling – that dreadful feeling of discovering something repulsive in one's own nature.

And then, he waited. He waited for Barton to think and connect the dots, to realize that an obvious solution was standing just before him, to remember how he had felt when waking up tied down, or being forced to drink down the water. The demi-god just stood there, hoping – almost praying for the first time in his life – that his enemy would look up at him with something else than hatred in his eyes.

No one writes kink quite like Nonymos writes kink, and this series is the perfect encapsulation of that.

The Stone Gryphon by rthstewart (Narnia, primarily Gen)

"Tools!" Richard was so shocked he was near speechless. He sat down heavily on the bench and began writing frantically in that strange code. "You are saying that you have observed ordinary crows use tools? Peter, that is�� remarkable."

"Well, I've seen Beavers use fishing tackle and sewing machines, so it didn't seem that unusual at the time."

I’m not going to lie, this may not be to everyone’s taste. But, amateur theologian, lover of weird animal facts, and history nerd that I am, there are very few fics more exactly tailored to my interests.

Republic of Heaven Community Radio by ErinPtah (WtNV x His Dark Materials, Cecil/Carlos)

The greeting catches both her and Carlos off-guard. It's not wrong to talk directly to another person's daemon, but it's still a little weird. "Likewise," she stammers.

They're both waiting for the obvious next step, which is for Cecil to introduce his daemon. The fact that Carlos hasn't spotted her yet is understandable — a big community gathering in a small space, you get plenty of daemons breaking away from their humans to socialize directly with each other. Any of the dozen animal shapes currently within ten feet of them could be Cecil's. If his daemon has an unusually high range, there are even more possibilities.

What Cecil says instead is, "If you ever have any important experimental-theology news that you need to share with the town, call me any time! Everyone listens to my show." There's a touch of what Carlos hopes is nothing more sinister than smugness when he adds, "Everyone."

He steps out of the way to let someone else interrogate Carlos, and vanishes into the crowd. Carlos doesn't get a chance to see what daemon he leaves with.

This may be the most carefully thought out crossover I’ve ever read, and I’m a little in awe of ErinPtah’s skills.

The Soul in the Machine by missdreawrites & Troodon (Dishonoured, Corvo/Outsider)

“... Outsider?” Corvo asked, sitting down on the filthy floor. “In the published list of the people who died of the Plague… how many were registered Augments?”

“Son of a bitch, ” Corvo swore with feeling. “This is… look at this waste. We aren't even people to them, are we?” He looked down at the body next to him. “And I killed the one person who could help. I did this. I doomed an entire people to plague, and murder and…”

The cyberpunk Dishonoured AU I desperately wish I’d thought of, because it works so very well.

In Which Tony Stark Builds Himself Some Friends (But His Family Was Assigned by Nick Fury) by scifigrl47 (MCU, Steve/Tony)

“Do you know what the difference between a villain and a super villain is, Stark?” Coulson said, leaning his palms on the tabletop, looming over everything like a very snappily dressed gargoyle.

“Style?” Tony asked, pointing both index fingers in Coulson's direction like the gunslinger that he was. He added a wide grin to the gesture, but Coulson didn't seem to notice.

“A villain has a giant mass of robotic vacuum cleaners that he can sic on his enemies. A super villain gives them the ability to fly.”

“In my defense, I do not actually remember installing repulsor technology in the Roombas,” Tony said, choosing his words carefully. It had been a working theory, sure, but he still wasn't quite sure when he implemented it. Maybe sometime on Tuesday night... That one was a blur. “It was a very long couple of days. So I was as surprised by that as everyone else.”

This doesn’t really count as a rec, since everyone in the fandom has read it already, but it really wouldn’t be fair to draw up a ‘best of the 2010s’ list and not include this.

A Great and Gruesome Height by mokuyoubi (Hannibal, Will/Hannibal)

Bedelia lashes out but Will is quicker. He grabs her wrist, pressing hard between the delicate bones with his thumb, until she makes a soft noise of distress and drops the fork.

Hannibal purses his lips and leans in close to her ear. “Now that is disappointing,” he whispers, and Bedelia has the good sense to be afraid with that mouth so near her skin. He inhales her scent deeply and straightens. “I thought you and I were beyond such petty jabs.”

“Were it not for the fact that you required medical attention, I have no doubt I would have met a similarly crass ending at the hands of your pet,” she says, lip curling in disgust.

Hannibal smiles serenely and says, “Will is a creature entirely of his own making. It is not to me to guide his hand. Merely to share in the sublime perfection of his vision, when he allows it.”

There are many dark!Will stories out there, and most of them are a lot of fun, but few are quite at believable as this one.

#top 10 list #top 10 fic #stony #hannigram #symbrock #cablepool #reed900 #cecilos #frosthawk #fic recs

68 notes · View notes

goodbyecringe · 5 years ago

Text

(Un)Natural Selection Chapter 9

Éponine

I stared at Enjolras until he left the Banquet Hall after rushing through a piece of toast, two cups of coffee, and a piece of ham. Cosette tried to change the topic of the conversation to lighten the shocked mood, but I was only partially paying attention to her. Enjolras seemed completely unfazed and confident as he made idle conversation with The King. I noticed that Enjolras took the majority of his features after his mother who also had golden blonde curls, blue eyes, and a straight nose. However, while his mother had lines around her cheeks from smiling, the worry wrinkles on Enjolras’ forehead matched his father’s.

After his abrupt departure, Claudia decided that it would be appropriate for us to return to our rooms to write to our family. While consolidating the last twenty four hours onto paper would have been beneficial, I had barely finished my eggs and toast. On our way back upstairs, Cosette invited me to her room, but I turned her down, finding myself drained from the overwhelming amount of stress associated with talking to a boy. When I walked in my room I didn’t look over to where my maids were cleaning already dustless spots.

I wanted to throw myself on to my bed and fall asleep until after lunch when Cosette would begin to get ready for her date with Enjolras. But I knew if I messed up my hair and makeup I would have to go through the whole process again. I kicked off my heels as I walked past my bed and settled in a chair next to my balcony. I sat and wondered who I would write my letter to since Zelma didn’t want me writing to her. Would I be overstepping my boundaries to write to Justine? While we had grown close over the last week would she get sick of me, her former housekeeper? Pushing my inferiority complex aside, I grabbed a few pieces of paper and started writing.

Justine,

I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you for the beautiful necklace, so thank you. It is without a doubt the nicest thing I own. Although, I now have a closet full of ballgowns and access to nice jewelry, even though none of it really belongs to me. This morning nine girls were eliminated and I know that I shouldn’t be surprised but didn’t expect so many girls to be sent home after a five minute conversation.

I’ve befriended Cosette, the Three from with the beautiful golden hair, but I think it was mostly out of fear that she would remember me. When I was very young, Cosette’s mother asked my parents to take care of her until she could find a secure place to live. My parents horribly mistreated Cosette and eventually Cosette’s father came to claim her. I didn’t even remember her until my mother told me about it the night before I left. But if she doesn’t remember me, it’s good to keep her on my side so that I have a possibility of the higher castes coming to approve of me.

I haven’t had an opportunity to talk with Enjolras about saving some of my stipend for Azelma, but I’m seeing him tonight so I’ll try to bring it up at the right time. I hope she’s doing well and adjusting to your house. She asked me not to write to her so please send her my love.

Éponine

I reread the letter several times wondering if it was what a letter should be until I decided that it would suffice. I gave my letter to Miriam and asked her to mail it so I could stop listening to the sound of the sewing machine. I asked Elise if I could go to the kitchen to get some food, but she said that was no task for a lady like me to do as she ran to the kitchen herself. I couldn’t think of another reason to get Laila to leave my room, but I figured she wouldn’t try to talk to me. It wasn’t that I didn’t like my maids, or I thought of myself as above them in any way, I was just luckier. If you could consider this lucky. Was I supposed to talk to them like we were friends, or did I keep them at a level that Justine had kept with me when I started working for her.

I decided to take a walk around my room since the entire room was larger than my family’s apartment. Aside from the bed my favorite part was the balcony which overlooked the gardens that Cosette and Enjolras would be touring. The flowers were vibrant shades of reds, yellows, and oranges arranged into patterns. Everything was completely elaborate yet completely simple. Part of me wanted to jump to the ground and run through the garden in my bare feet while all of the other girls gawked at how unladylike I was. I wanted to wear pants.

Miriam came back after a few minutes and immediately went back to her sewing. Elise brought back an entire feast of eggs, oatmeal, and fresh fruit. There was no way I would have been able to eat everything she sat in front of me.

“You’re all welcome to some of this if you’d like, I can’t eat it all by myself,” I laughed nervously.

Why did talking to my maids make me so nervous?

“That is completely out of the question, Lady Éponine,” Miriam gasped.

“Why? Just think of it as a meal between a few friends,” I said, handing a strawberry to Elise.

“With all due respect ma’am we are not friends. We are your maids, we are here to serve you in whatever needs you may have. You are a Three and we are Sixes, it’s just how it is!” Miriam cried, taking the strawberry from Elise and throwing it in the trash.

“Before I came here my boss was a Three but I don’t think she ever felt like she was better than me because of her caste. She treated me with the same respect and decency that I treated her with, and she eventually became like a mother towards me,” I said, handing out strawberries to Elise and Laila.

“Well I certainly can’t sit here and partake in this sort of behavior. Until you need me I will be sewing in the kitchen,” she said picking up the dress she was working on.

She was graceful even as she stormed out of my room. I sat back in my chair while Laila and Elise exchanged looks.

“If it makes you feel better, My Lady, she’s always been like this,” Laila said, sitting on the couch at the foot of my bed.

“Ms. Miriam’s been through some horrible things in the last few we-”

Whatever Elise was going to say was cut short by Laila’s elbow meeting her ribcage.

“Elise, that is not our story to tell. If Ms. Miriam feels comfortable disclosing that information she will tell it,” Laila urged.

“No, Lady Éponine has a right to know that it’s not her fault she’s being treated so cruelly. You see,” Elise said turning to me, “Ms. Miriam had a daughter that entered the Selection, but palace servants aren’t allowed to enter, so we were all surprised when she told us that Sarah had entered.”

“Well if you aren’t allowed to enter, how did she?” I asked.

“Apparently, she made some deal with an official that thought it would be a good idea for there to be a Six for the first time. She came to work with us the morning before they announced it, beaming about how her connection had told her that they Selected Sarah,” Elise said, looking at the ground.

“What happened?”

“Sarah fell down the stairs that afternoon,” Laila said, breaking her silence. “She died.”

“But the Selection Committee still wanted a Six,” Elise brought up.

“And they picked me?”

I felt disgusted. I had replaced my maid’s dead daughter in a life changing competition. Miriam could have become a One, but in one day she lost everything.

“Ms. Miriam never told us who her contact was, but after Sarah died she became even more dedicated to her job. Whenever she thought we were slacking she would say, ‘We have to do it, we’re Sixes.’”

I lost my appetite for the rest of the day, but thankfully Laila and Elise didn’t say anything about it. I sat in Cosette’s room for two hours while she tried on dress after dress, but still not finding the right one. While most of my dresses were neutral colors, Cosette’s were bright shades of Spring that usually had patterns adorning them. She looked like a princess in every single dress she wore, twirling around in every dress so she could watch the skirt in the wind. Her maids laughed at her antics while they presented new dresses and pieces of jewelry. Finally she settled for a sleeveless baby blue gown that had a white pattern over the bodice. I caught a glimpse of Enjolras as I walked back to my room but his eyes didn’t meet mine. He looked extremely distraught as his heels dug into the floor.

Dinner felt like an eternity. Everyone wanted to know how Cosette’s date had gone and what Enjolras was really like. It was obvious that the girls felt more comfortable talking about it since Enjolras wasn’t here. Maybe they were all worried about the eliminations today. I didn’t pay much attention to the conversation and focused on the steak in front of me. I still wasn’t hungry after learning about Miriam’s situation, but I still ate a bit of the steak. I wish I had been hungrier because I couldn’t remember ever tasting anything like this before. Claudia excused me early so that I could have optimal time to get ready for my date. I felt the daggers of eyes on my back as I left the room, but not just the eyes of the girls. The King and Queen stared at me with a cold stare as I curtseyed out of the room.

When I entered my room Laila and Elise said Miriam wasn’t feeling well and wouldn’t be able to help me get ready. I tried not to let the fact that I was here as her dead daughter’s replacement bother me. While Laila was brushing out my hair I could see that Elise had pulled out a maids uniform.

“A butler delivered it just before you arrived. He said that you’ll need to be wearing this when he comes to retrieve you for your date.”

I was relieved when Laila laughed at my disgusted face.

“I wouldn’t worry if I were you, Lady Éponine. Prince Enjolras would much rather fly under the radar than cause a scandal,” Laila laughed.

The uniform was surprisingly comfortable despite the tights, high socks, and vest. I couldn't imagine cleaning in a dress since I was used to cleaning in a pair of jeans and an old shirt stained with bleach. Laila spent at least ten minutes pinning my hair in the cap that all maids were required to wear, giving me instructions on how to take out all of the bobby pins. There was a knock on the door as Elise removed my earrings, Laila opened it to reveal a butler with curly black hair.

“Lady Éponine,” he bowed, “the Prince sends his apologies that he couldn’t escort you himself so he asked for me to escort you to the meeting this evening.”

“Oh, well thank you...”

“Grantaire, ma’am. If it’s alright we should leave now so that we aren’t late,” he said moving towards the hallway.

“Of course. Thank you Grantaire,” I said, hoping that my discomfort wasn’t obvious.

As we walked down the hall in silence I wondered if Enjolras did know our castes and was playing a cruel trick on me. Did I have to dress up like this because he was embarrassed of me? Was he worried what Les Amis would think of me? I stared at the floor until we were approaching the Men’s Room.

“There’s been a change in plans, My Lady. We need to go to the kitchen before we can go to the meeting,” Grantaire said in a hushed tone.

“If this is because I haven’t eaten it’s because I haven't been hungry. I know I’m supposed to be gaining weight while I’m here but I can’t stuff myself every meal,” I snapped.

“No ma’am, we aren’t going to the kitchen for food. The servant’s entrance is the best way out of the palace.”

“Am I being eliminated?” I gasped.

This was definitely some cruel joke

“Of course not! I don’t know all of the details but for security reasons, the meeting actually didn't take place in the palace. Only a few select members of the Guard know where the Prince is at all times,” he whispered as we entered the kitchen.

“You’ll need to change into this,” he said, handing me a backpack that contained a pair of pants, a green top, and a leather jacket.

After I changed, Grantaire led me out of the servant’s entrance and into the passenger seat of a car. Enjolras had changed out of his 4 piece suit and into a pair of black slacks, a red polo, and a baseball cap.

“I hope you don’t mind the pants, I asked your maids to prepare what they thought you’d be most comfortable in,” he said, putting on a pair of sunglasses. I couldn’t tell if he was wearing them to shield his eyes or his identity.

“You couldn’t have mentioned this in a letter?” I asked, sounding obviously distressed.

“I had planned on it, but I lost track of time while reviewing the budget proposal for the next Draft. Here put these on, it would be unfortunate if the media saw you out of the palace, ” he said, handing me a pair of sunglasses.

“Wouldn’t it be more unfortunate if the media saw you out of the palace?”

“They haven’t caught me yet,” he smirked turning onto the highway.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. I thought ladies were supposed to be patient?”

“Have you seen me do anything remotely similar to a Lady?” I laughed.

“You wear sunglasses like a true Princess,” he said, turning into a parking lot.

I pulled down my sunglasses so he could see me roll my eyes.

“You also have the attitude of a true Princess,” he smiled, turning off the car.

“Are you going to tell me what I’m about to walk into or do I have to keep waiting?” I groaned opening my door.

“Éponine, I think you can survive walking 20 feet until we get inside.”

“You obviously don’t know me very well, Your Highness,” I said as I dramatically curtseyed for added effect.

He didn't acknowledge me as he approached the tall brick building where white cursive letters read: Café Musain.

#enjonine #enjolras #prince enjolras #eponine #fanfiction #les amis #the selection #les miserables #crossover #cross-posted #Cosette #musichetta #grantaire

1 note · View note

saiilorstars · 5 years ago

Text

Dhalloweek Day 1: A Hunting We Will Go

*** This is part of DearDescendants’ Writing Week. ***

Day 1 Prompt: Vampire

Rating: General audience; minor cursing

{The following OC is of my creation, everything else is part of the Descendants/Disney world.}

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

"What the hell is...Halloween?" Elle couldn't possibly be more confused, which really only made her more adorable in Ben's eyes. He'd just told her that Auradon Prep was going to host its yearly Halloween week-long fest.

She had no idea what he was talking about.

Ben couldn't help but laugh. Elle didn't appreciate it.

"You may be King of Auradon but I will not hesitate to kick your ass," she promptly said, hoping that'd be enough to stop his laughter.

Ben sobered slowly, much to her dismay. He straightened in his desk chair, eyes looking directly into Elle as if still considering that she was just playing with him and that she did in fact know what Halloween was.

She did not.

"How did you not celebrate Halloween?" he leaned forwards on his desk. "You used to live on the Isle of the Lost - Halloween is all about scary things, tricks and just scaring people."

"That's an everyday thing, Ben. Why would we only do it one time per year?"

"Alright," Ben raised his hands, indicating he'd get serious and explain to her the holiday. He pushed himself out of his seat and moved around the desk barring him from his girlfriend. "Halloween is the one day a year where everyone dresses up as something they like - a vampire, a ghost, a werewolf-"

"-basically anything but themselves?"

"Yes, although Audrey might not be celebrating Halloween then," Ben said in a thoughtful manner. The pink princess always went as herself for Halloween. "Anyways, there's some people who go trick-or-treating which is knocking on people's homes asking for candy."

"And then they play tricks on each other…?" Elle raised an eyebrow. Okay, that last part may sound more like the Isle of the Lost but she didn't understand the whole 'asking for candy' bit. Why would you do that? Why wouldn't you just steal it?

"Well, kind of...no one really does tricks here in Auradon. It's not nice," Ben smiled awkwardly. That was just too Auradon.

"Of course," Elle playfully rolled her eyes. "So then what else happens for Halloween?"

"The trick-or-treating and then a good old Halloween party is pretty much it. Auradon Prep loves Halloween too much to let it be just for a day. We have it the whole week."

"And what do we do during this week?"

"The first day we go as vampires. Bring your favorite vampire character to life."

"Sooo...all day we just go about pretending to be vampires?" Elle tilted her head, considering how foolish the idea seemed to her right now. Actually, if Mal was here she'd say…

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

"That's stupid," the purple-haired girl was crinkling her nose in disdain. She scooted backwards on her bed, until she could rest against her bed's headboard.

Elle was leaning against their dorm's door and was actually amused by her friends' different reactions.

Evie promptly pushed one of Jay's legs in order for her to sit on the edge of her own bed. Jay often liked making himself comfortable on the girls' beds with the excuse the mattresses were more mushy than his. "I don't understand it either," Evie admitted to Elle, but the dreamy smile on Evie's face indicated she was more open to it than Mal. "But if it means I get to design a vampire costume then I'm all for it!"

She got up from her bed and dashed for her sewing machine at the edge of the room. With a grin, Jay repositioned himself on her bed, hands behind his back and his back against the headboard.

"Sounds kinda scary," admitted Carlos who sat on the ground, back pressed against the chest of Elle's bed. He had Dude in his lap, one hand petting the dog.

"It's all fake, Carlos," Elle rolled her eyes at him.

"Sounds boring," Jay said in a tone that meant he was clarifying the truth. "Can you imagine what this soft Auradons are going to do for this holiday meant to be about scaring and tricks?"

"Oh, you know about Halloween?" Mal raised an eyebrow at him, shooting him a doubtful gaze from her bed.

Jay smirked. "When a subject interests me, I excel in it. And believe me when I say that we-" he made a gesture at their group, "-could make this vampire day a whole lot better."

"You got some ideas?" Elle pushed herself off the door and walked up to Evie's bed. Like Evie, Elle pushed Jay's legs further to the side in order for her to sit down.

"Yeah," Jay's smirk was widening. Oh yeah, he'd given this some thought. "It's just too bad I don't have any magic…"

Elle looked back at Mal, the purple-haired girl already rolling her eyes, then looked over to Evie who'd turned on her sewing chair. The girls all knew what they would eventually end up doing for this idea.

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Without even trying, Evie was the sensation of Auradon Prep's first day of Halloween fest. She'd fashioned herself a black leather outfit meant to be her vampire costume. It consisted of black leather one suit with a plunging neckline. There was a glittery white blouse underneath, its ruffles poking through the plunging neckline. What really took people away was the long, brilliant red cape that flowed in her confident strides. Her blueberry-shade of hair was tied into a side braid with a couple curly strands left to frame her rosy face. Her lips were painted a brilliant red.

"You seriously had to dress up like that?" Mal was not the least surprised to find Evie completely engrossed with the costume ideas.

"Who said I couldn't have my own type of fun?" the blue-haired girl merely shrugged and smiled with red-stained lips.

"She looks good," Elle complimented as she, Jay and Carlos met them. They were being careful to look natural by Mal's locker.

"So are we doing this or not!?" Jay could care less about costumes. He'd done the bare minimum with his own costume, only going as far as slipping on a short black cape over his back and painting red streams at the corners of his lips to resemble blood.

"I'm not sure we should," Carlos admitted, once again appearing to be the only one out of the group to have some reservations about the idea.

"It'll be harmless," Mal assured him, though there was a wicked glint in her eyes when she yanked her spellbook out of her locker.

"I don't think it will…" Carlos mumbled, but no one paid him attention.

"Alright, so here's how this is going to work," Mal gave a light pat to the front cover of her spellbook. "It's quite simple, really. So simple that Evie didn't need to get her own grimoire and Elle doesn't have to use her necklace."

"So it really will be okay," Elle smiled at Carlos. They would never endanger Auradon...at least not anymore.

"Do it, Mal," Jay was eager to see the spell through. Wicked party here they come!

"I'm so ready," Evie set her hands on her hips and raised her head. She always loved a good party.

Mal skimmed through her spellbook until she found the page she needed. She pressed a finger to the required line and began to say out loud, "On Hallows' Eve there's always tricks, now give us a wicked vampire party, quick!" Her finger raised in the air and did its usual flicks side to side, commanding her powers to do her will.

Purple smoke shot down from the sky, enveloping the entire Auradon Prep land. The force of it - which wasn't planned at all - threw the group to the ground.

"Ooow that hurt," Evie was the first to groan. She had landed on her side and the cement was no place to fall so hard.

"Mal, what the hell?" Elle was rubbing the side of her head. She got herself a good smack against the cement too.

"Sorry, sorry," Mal sat upright and immediately sought out to find her spellbook.

"At least tell me it worked," Jay re-adjusted his beanie before getting up.

However, Carlos had beaten them to it. He was gazing out at the school's yard, eyes wide. "Uuh...guys…" His tone of voice drew the group's attention to what he was looking at.

And it was totally unplanned.

The sun was no more, for starters. It was dark out, night time when it was only noon. The bright green grass had died and turned an ugly yellow with some patches even missing. Fairy Godmother would never allow for such neglect of the school. There was an eerie light purple glow in the air.

But the worst part was the fact the students - their friends - had turned into the very thing they'd made fun of earlier.

"Did we just...turn everyone into vampires?" Carlos gulped.

Evie's mouth gaped as she came to stand next to Carlos, in front of the rail.

"Wicked!" Jay exclaimed, nearly laughing.

"Mal!" Elle quickly turned on the girl in question. "What happened!?"

"I don't know! More power than I thought, I guess," Mal awkwardly smiled. "Oops?"

"Just out of curiosity...what was supposed to happen?" Carlos asked.

"You know, the usual stuff," Mal shifted on her feet. Now that she was thinking about it, maybe the spell did exactly what it was supposed to. "It gave us a good vampire party…"

"With actual vampires!" Carlos flapped a hand at the yard.

"I thought they were just going to be like realistic vampires but obviously not vampires!" Mal exclaimed and stuck an index fingernail between her teeth. "Oops?"

Elle's eyes widened when she remember something - or someone - important. "Ben!" she cried and dashed for her boyfriend's dorm.

It took the others just 2 seconds more to realize what Elle had just thought of. They ran after Elle, though Carlos lingered behind to continue looking at the other students. However, one of the students spotted him and hissed, making Carlos flinch and jump backwards.

He ran then, as fast as he could.

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Elle burst into Ben's room, calling his name over and over until he saw a figure by the window. "Ben, I'm glad to see you," she sighed in relief and walked towards him...only for him to hiss at her with prominent fangs. "Ah!" Elle jumped back, bumping into the incoming Mal.

"What - ah!" Mal had only a second before she saw the menacing Ben at the window.

"You turned my boyfriend into a vampire!"

"I didn't mean to!"

"Fix him!"

Before the two started to argue, they each felt a grip on their arms that yanked them back into the hallway.

"Real vampires mean real death," Evie reminded them both.

"That's kinda cool, though," Jay said, still smiling excitedly.

"No, no it's not," scolded Carlos. "I told you we shouldn't have done this! Now everyone here is a vampire! How do we turn them back?"

Mal raised a hand to stop them while she searched through her spellbook. She went back to the page where she'd gotten the spell in the first place. "Okay, so there's no real counter spell-"

"-what?" Elle's sharpness was enough to make Mal wince.

"But there is a way to reverse it. And I can make them no problem," Mal's grin was nervous as hell which, in turn, made the others a bit nervous. "C'mon!"

They followed Mal through the school, careful to avoid the lurking vampires who wanted nothing than to drink their blood. Once they bumped into Fairy Godmother herself and were scared to death by the woman's sinister grin.

Mal led them to the nearby forest just beside the tourney field. "We need to collect bark."

"Bark? What for?" Evie gazed at the tree trunks with a crinkled nose. She didn't want to peel any of that off.

"We just need it! Now do it!" hissed Mal.

Between the five, they collected bark from tree trunks and from the ground. They made just enough for each of them to have two pieces. Mal then used her spellbook again to fashion the bark into daggers.

"Are we...are we supposed to stab people with these?" Carlos raised an eyebrow at Mal. He would definitely not be stabbing anyone.

"They're enchanted," Mal rolled her eyes. "You throw them at any vampire and it'll just go through them as if they were ghosts. Then, it'll boomerang back to you so you can use it again."

"I like it," Jay tossed one of his daggers into the air, catching it swiftly with one hand. "Can I go first?"

"What if we're not good throwers?" Evie was examining her own daggers with a visible doubt on her face.

"Just aim it at a vampire and it'll go to them," Mal said, assuring Evie it was a simple task even if one never played a sport of any kind.

"And this will make everyone go back to normal?" Elle raised one of her daggers.

"Hopefully, yes," Mal nodded.

"Fine, let's get to it. I'm starting with Ben," Elle took the lead back to the school.

They crept back into the front yard and sure enough counted several vampires in the area.

"I think that one's Lonnie," Jay realized when he spotted a familiar brunette rounding a table with fencing gear left carelessly on the edge.

"And I think I just found Jane," Carlos sighed. Yeah, he'd been hoping he wouldn't have to see her like that.

"So what do we do?" Evie looked at Mal. "Are we supposed to just-" but Jay drew back an arm and threw a dagger at Lonnie. It went right through her back, freezing her for a minute until a purple smoke took her over. It cleared off in seconds and revealed a normal Lonnie. Jay caught his boomerang with no problem.

"It worked!" Mal beamed and was immediately subjected to her friends' collective looks. "I mean...of course it worked...cos I knew it would work…" Mal looked away to hide her expression.

"Alright guys, let's do it," Elle exclaimed.

"YEAH!" Jay charged forwards and chucked his daggers at two more vampires, getting them easily.

"What is going on?" Lonnie was left demanding as the group zipped past her.

"Just go hide!" Evie told her.

Carlos closed his eyes to throw his dagger at Jane, the menacing vampire already coming for him, and luckily got her through the chest. Like Lonnie, she was enveloped by purple smoke then reverted back to her normal self. Her blue eyes winked wide and fast.

"Why did I suddenly want to drink...blood?" she scrunched her face in disgust.

"Don't even think about it, just go to your room and stay there," Carlos ushered her towards Lonnie. "Go!"

Mal yelped when a vampire - whom she was sure was one of her art club friends - tried lunging on her. She threw her dagger and covered her face before he would reach her. When she heard a snap, she spread her pinky finger from her ring finger to see the boy landing right at her feet, back to normal.

"...hey Mal," he rubbed his forehead. "What happened?"

In another part, Jay laughed loudly when he daggered none other than Chad Charming. "I love Halloween!"

"JAY!" Elle roared from her spot. He was enjoying this too much. She shook her head and continued fighting her way towards the inside of the school. Ben was still inside and she needed to get there.

A prissy pink vampire jumped in front of her, scaring the hell out of Elle for a moment.

"You really do go as yourself," Elle blinked at Audrey's fluffly pink dress. All the princess did in return was hiss, as was her vampire nature. "Sorry Audrey." She threw her dagger at the girl's chest and had her back as Audrey in a minute.

"What the hell is going on?" Audrey looked around with fearful eyes. Her hands reached up to her face, fingers touching her lips. "And why did I really want to drink your blood?"

"Audrey, just go hide, please!"

Audrey didn't have to be told twice. Soon as she saw another vampire coming for Elle, she screamed and ran in the opposite direction.

Before the vampire got to Elle, Evie daggered it. She beamed when she saw the normal student in its place. "Yes!"

"Thanks, Evie!" Elle called before running off.

Elle fought her way into the school, taking mostly teacher vampires down in the hallways. She even had the honor of bringing Fairy Godmother back, though she ran away as soon as Fairy Godmother began to demand answers about the chaos.

Unfortunately, she wouldn't be able to return the students and teachers to normal if she had no idea what spell Mal used.

Finally, Elle made it to Ben's room again. She crept in quietly and looked around for her boyfriend. "C'mon Ben, I know you least of all want to be some scary monster."

She heard a hiss behind her and whirled around to see Ben lunging for her. She cried and threw her dagger as hard as she could. It crossed his chest and trapped him in purple smoke. Just as she caught her dagger, he returned to normal.

"...Elle?" his hazel eyes blinked wide, much like everyone else who was reverting to their regular selves. "Did I...did I just attack you?"

Elle dropped her daggers and rushed to hug him, though before she did she checked him for those fangs. "All clear!" she happily exclaimed then threw her arms around his neck.

"...did I have fangs!?"

"Yes, but it was an accident," Elle promised. "And I can explain everything just as soon as we finish getting everyone back to normal."

"How about we do that right now?" Fairy Godmother's presence was enough to scare Elle even more than the vampires threatening to kill them.

"...we're so sorry," Elle almost whimpered.

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

When Fairy Godmother learned the spell that Mal had used, it was easier to revert everyone back to normal in one go. Though if the group of teens had anything to say, it'd be that they'd gotten most of the students and teachers anyways. Although once Fairy Godmother threatened them with detention for their awful misuse of magic, no one dared to say a thing about their excellent daggering skills.

"Fairy Godmother, don't punish them," Ben came to the group's aid as he always did. The woman 'tsked' behind her desk, but she let the King continue making the argument. "This is their first Halloween ever. They didn't know what to do."

"It does not excuse the magic spell they cast over Auradon prep," Fairy Godmother gave the five teens in question the hardest look the woman could muster. "They put themselves in grave danger-"

"-that they also helped clean up," Ben reminded her. "And besides, it was definitely in the Halloween spirit. A lot of the students can't stop talking about it. They got to be actual vampires."

Fairy Godmother sighed. "We...we just can't let this happen again."

"Completely understood," Mal spoke up. "I'll have to study my Halloween spells a bit better."

"Or maybe not use them at all," the headmistress countered, but Mal hummed.

"...or maybe just study them a bit more."

If Fairy Godmother wasn't from Auradon, she would've rolled her eyes. "And Elle," she looked at the brunette girl, "You realize I'm going to have to call your parents about this."

"...yeah...I figured as much," Elle bit her lower lip. She was fairly interested in how her parents, the Queen and King of Avalor, would react to her Halloween scheme.

"Go on," Fairy Godmother made a gesture for them to leave her office. "And be safe this Halloween."

"Of course!" the entire group chorused as they filed out.

"Man that was wicked fun!" Jay said almost as soon as Ben shut the door to the office. "We hunted vampires! I love Halloween!" he laughed as he went on his way.

"He won't be talking about anything else for a while," Mal smirked, a tad proud in the end.

"You guys…" Ben sighed but there was a clear smile on his face. "What possessed you to do even try that spell in the first place?" he was close to laughing.

"Jay had the idea," Carlos said, shaking his head. "All to make Halloween more fun."

"It was supposed to just make the vampire costumes more realistic," Elle explained. "But the spell sort of went...in a different direction."

"Totally not my intention," Mal raised a finger as she clarified. "But it was kind of fun in the end, wasn't it?"

"It really wasn't," Carlos said his last words before leaving.

"I'm tired," Evie glumly said as she looked down at her heeled boots. "I need to go change my shoes."

"Are you all still coming for the party later?" Ben asked just as she and Mal were getting ready to leave too. "It'll be completely normal, though."

"I think that's the best thing right now," Elle patted his arm. "And you know what? I better enjoy it because once my parents hear about this...I'll be grounded until I'm 30."

"I guess I'll take you on our last date until you're 30, then," Ben kissed her cheek. She smiled and rolled her eyes.

Yeah, she better enjoy it.

#dhalloweek #descendants #deardescendants #mal #evie grimhilde #carlos de vil #jay #auradon

7 notes · View notes

coloringthegreyscale · 6 years ago

Note

What got you into costume making and cosplay?

Okay. This is a story. I’m going to try to be entertaining about it.

So the first time I cosplayed was back in 2005 for an anime convention. It was my first convention and I just liked the idea of dressing up. A friend made my dress, I bought my boots, and because it was 2005 and cosplay wig companies were pretty much nonexistent to the general public, I used my own hair. For years my cosplays have always been closet cosplays - stuff I’ve managed to find and piece together, and maybe alter a few things here and there. I almost always cosplayed Shinya from Dir en grey, and I did one cosplay of Soubi from Loveless that I don’t have any actual photos of.

I started getting into styling wigs probably around 7 or 8 years ago now? My first extensive wig restyle was me trying to do a low ponytail wig for another Shinya cosplay - which is something that I held on way past relevancy but it didn’t matter because I had so much fun dressing up as him. That wig was actually the wig I took apart to make this wig last year:

Then a couple of years later, I made my first big prop: a glowing sword for demon!Rin from Blue Exorcist. I love how it turned out. The only draw back is, the glowing part of it isn’t very bright and you can’t really see it unless it’s in low lights:

This is still one of my favorite costume I’ve done so far. I hope to update this one day and apply some of the new stuff I’ve learned since.

But for most of my cosplaying hobby, I hadn’t actually sewn anything. Costumes like BBC Sherlock, Rin, Shinichi Kudo, Nana, Scorpion, almost every single Shinya Cosplay, etc. were all made using stuff that I had found in thrift stores or bought online. The two costumes that weren’t bought pre-made, I had commissioned friends

I actually never tried to learn how to sew until two years ago. I wanted to make a BB-8 costume based off a drawing I did. I had tried but I had to actually give up because there was a lot of stuff I simply hand’t factored into while making it (read as: I didn’t give myself enough time to finish it). I wouldn’t try again until the beginning of last year when my sewing machine died a week before 221B con and I locked myself in my room for a weekend so I could finish this costume using a sewing machine I borrowed from a neighbor:

Desperation and panic can be fantastic motivators when it comes to learning something.

And it was totally worth it. I about cried when I finished this. First costume I’d ever sewn, first foam head I ever constructed, and Basil had been on my dream cosplay list for AGES! The only true dream cosplay I have left is Graham from Shamanic Princess which I will do... one day. Someday. I don’t know when.

So while I’ve technically cosplayed for thirteen years (that is such a huge ass number), I let a lot of doubt hold me back. A lot of “I don’t think I can do this” or “I’m afraid I might ruin something” and various other kinds of excuses. It wasn’t until recently where I was like “You know what? Fuck it. I’m going to try.”

So while I know a number of people who have been doing cosplay for the same amount of time I have, are leaps and bounds ahead of me in experience and expertise, I am still learning and I’m still having fun. I can be a fast learner when I put my mind to it and if funds allow, I would love to be able to just... style wigs for the hell of it. Sew more original concepts. Finally finish that god damn BB-8 dress. Things like that.

So. We’ll see.

#jaimistoryteller

9 notes · View notes

alien-origins · 7 years ago

Photo

💞 let’s start 2018 with loads of love💞

through this year i’ve gotten to know a lot of lovely people and i’ve had the chance to get to know some of them and some i hope to talk to more in 2018! you all make me so happy💞💞💞 and i’m so full love :(( thank youeveryone for brightening up my dash with your silly posts and support! 2017 was rough so let’s hope for a better 2018 now! writing ‘love’ this many times is hard for me being a aqua but my libra moon can’t stop!! i’ve written little messages to those i’ve talked to this year and i really hope i haven’t missed anyone i’d feel horrible, but i hope i get to talk to all of my lovely mutuals more in 2018 and i care about each and every one of you sooooo much!!💗💞💞

i also want to share a few words that i learned at the start of 2017 that might be good for people to read now when things are rough and to keep in mind once 2018 starts! you can’t be happy every day, but there’s something to be happy about every day💓💗💓

🎉🎊🎉 happy 2018! 🎉🎊🎉

💝@alphahailang jovi, my sweet child whom i love very much... i’m pretty sure you were on of the first people i talked to on here and i adopted you within 0.003 seconds. you’re one of the sweetest people i’ve ever come across and you care so much about other people, it’s really beautiful. i’m lucky to have you as a child friend, you really are the sweetest. every time i declare i want to protect you you always tell me you’ll protect me and you just make me feel all warm and cosy. thank you for putting up with my krisho spams and thank you for lighting up my days with your presence!

💝@1adyluck shit girl i still have a drunk ask from you in my ask box when we talked about yifan i think. and how can i forget the nasty round of would you rather we had in the beginning of the year when i sat at a café for a whole day until my ass died. you’re really kind and i always smile when i see your url and i miss talking to you but i guess i can try to do better in 2k18 with that! i hope you’ve had a good 2017 though darling!!

💝@bunmyun my fellow nordic binch whom i love... i always get so hyped when i find out that my mutuals are from up here bc we suffer in more ways than one. and i love yelling abt myeon with you and you’re so sweet and i love checking out what you’re doing on snap. we haven’t talked in a while and sjdoaish shit i’m sorry i really suck at holding conversations but ily sm my amazing gal and i can’t wait to yell abt kim junmyeon with you in 2018!

💝@crownkingzyx not to be a libra moon but ily??? you never fail to make me smile and is2g in some way all our conversations are laced with “i’m a aqua so...” and tbh a fellow aqua friend??? best thing ever. tho we can never get into an argument bc then we’ll just never talk :// aquas are so annoying ugh why are we like this? either way, we’ve talked for a while and i remember complaining about my school when we were sewing and someone changed the thread in one of the machines to talking abt kpop zodiacs and i love talking to you!

💝@bulba-suho-r :^) krisho huh, girl i promise you, i can feel it in my bones, that 2018 will be the year of krisho. we gotta get one fresh moment of them right?? this is the year! and girl, i love yelling about our boys with you :(( you’re such a nice gal that i love with my lil heart. let’s never stop yell about them and wow i hope this year has treated you good!

💝@taos-left-eyelid my child! god i’m so proud of you really :(( like you work so hard and i’m glad to watch you grow and help you when i can. you’re so sweet and adorable i’m really glad to have you as a child friend !! you’re the sweetheart and i’m just all happy when i see you on my dash, but i swear to god if you try ramen with milk i’m disowning you. your dad will have to take care of you after that :// i bet he uses milk in his rame :/// ily i hope you can take it easy in 2018!

💝@co-kai-ne askasjio like i feel like all i’ve ever done is send you weird asks and drawings and bothered you with furries since i followed you and i’d say that i’m sorry and i won’t do it in 2018 but we all know i can’t hold that promise. however!! you’re really chill and you make me laugh a whole lot! in 2018 me and myeon won’t come by at 6am to do yoga, we’ll be giving you and pcy some privacy!

💝@kai-aaah sis :(( my bunny sis as well i hope that the buns are glad and healthy and i hope that you are as well! i tbh will never get over your url, i love it so much and just like i love you sweetie! i’m lucky to have such a nice sister, when can i replace you with my real sister??? we can do a exchange program! and i can make you soup and we can talk bunnies! ily darling take care <3

💝@bbtoben ah big oh, idk we’ve barley been mutuals for a few months???? but damn do ily??? from writing in casp about how your father is a failure to planing a trip to korea! and honestly you’re so much fun to talk to and i get really happy when i see you reply to my messages, ily !! :(( you’re such a cutie and i hope things will be good for you in 2018 and that you can meet my bunnies bc they wanna meet you <3 take care now!

💝@ratbyun we haven’t been mutuals for very long but we’ve exposed so many kinks to each other i don’t think we can go back from that :// we have to stay like this now so no one can rat out the other haahah i love my attempts at jokes! it’s always nice talking nasties with you bc neither of us have any shame and that makes me feel at home and ily!

💝@saranghaeyeols sweetie you’re such a warm hug :(( the sweetest :( i’m sorry i haven’t talked to you much and tings got messy nowin the end of the year. but you’re really caring and amazing, i hope you’re taking care of yourself and get rest! all i wanna do is bake you cookies and hug you like you’re so nice it hurts me <3 ily and i hope 2018 will treat you good!

💝@princeksoo aaskjdoi my sweet child! i have no idea how to convince you that i’m not cool but i’m a huge nerd that loves you :(( i like talking to you the little convos we do have here and there, you’re just so cute and happy i’m <333 wow a sweet pea :(( all i wanna do is hug you and be here to give you advice in life even if most of it has been nsfw oh god what kind of mother am i??? i’ll gladly answer any questions you have in 2018 as well and take care in the new year darling!

💝@dwlwrma we haven’t talked all that much but i still consider you a dear friend and i care about you :(( you’re really sweet and thoughtful and i hope i can talk to you more in the new year and that you take care of yourself! <3 it was really kind of you to check on me and i can tell you i’m doing much better now and i hope you’re doing well as well!

💝@snowmanguk hey darling i hope you’re doing good and taking care of yourself <3 i love you loads and i really wish i could hug you, wrap you up in a blanket and take a nap with you? you deserve the whole world and i hope that 2018 will treat you so well because you deserve it so much and if not i’ll personally fight time (tao???) for you to be happy. take care and relax okay sweetie? ily!

💝@atttaboy :(( we’ve talked a lot this year and most of it has been rather serious i think but we’ve had cutesy light hearted conversations as well! and i’m so happy to see things go well for you <33 you mean a lot to me and so does your happiness™ i really hope that 2018 will be even better for you and that you can stay happy for long and that we we can continue talking! <3 ily darling!

💝@mr-kris-wu-yi-fan binch, i legit think i cried when i realized you were a kris stan from one of the nordic countries like??? i didn’t even think they existed? but here we are!! i love crying over kris’ dick with you it’s really nice actually and i can’t believe we haven’t seen it yet :// we deserve™ to see it and sit on it honestly. i’m so happy to have found a nasty kris stan like me and some day we gonna sit on his dick girl i swear...have fun in china and try to get him! <3

💝@fxrlife i’ve exposed so much to you i can never not talk to you now ashiuhdu, i’ve been a lil off the past weeks but i’m doing better and i miss talking to you. i need to yell abt nasty stuff and exo! also like i am gonna make that mood board i just got so much to do rn it’s coming up tho you wait!! you’re a sweetheart and so much fun to talk to, i really hope 2018 will be good to you darling!

💝@deathbykaisoo god i can’t wait to move to a farm with you with loads of puppies and bunnies! we gonna have it so chill and i’ll bring all my sheet masks and we can have such a nice time petting puppies and have nice skin :(( you’re a sweetheart and the times we talk i always get happy and i hope to get more of that in 2018, take care sweetie!

💝@moutonrose first of all i can’t believe that i found a mom??? for my whole life i’ve had the mom title and wow it’s amazing?? i love yelling about all our damn aus we come up with and i can’t wait to share them with the world askhdoiash. i’m so glad that you liked the care package from japan i got and you gotta tell me once you try the candy if it was good bc i only like the chocolate in that one really! you’re amazing and such a beautiful person inside and out ily :((

💝@lofiloey we haven’t been mutuals for very long??? maybe half a year??? but you always send me pics of daddy kris that make me cry and you gotta stop this!!! ok not really it’s a lot!! you’re a nasty and as your mom i guess it’s partly my fault :// you’re a kind soul and i hope that 2018 will treat you good because you deserve it!

💝@oshzt honey :(( <3 ily a whole lot and i’t been some time since we talked but i still treasure you so so much and i’m still gonna take you to gotland to watch the sunrise from the boat and we can chill by the beach and listen to the best summer playlist ever! you’re a amazing soft person and i hope the rest of 2017 was good to you and the start of 2018 is even better <3 can’t wait to talk to you more in 2k18 and yell in caps!

💝@glitzyeol darling shit i really do suck at holding conversations but won’t stop me from loving you! i hope you’ve been doing good the last part of the year and that you’ve been able to have fun and smile <3 you’re really nice and fun to talk to :(( i’ll try be better at talking to you in 2018! you’re sunshine personified and i always smile when i see you on my dash, take care darling!

💝@suho69 honestly we haven’t talked that much but you talked about space with me and i instantly hooked on and like :// your url?? perfect. you have a lil special spot in my heart and i hope 2018 will be good to you and that you take care of yourself!

💝@sehunsbff i feel like our mutualship is me annoying you in the reply under text posts??? we don’t talk all that much but i always smile when seeing you on my dash and you tipped me that kmodboard thing??? it was real nice you thought my work was good :(( and you’re a real sweet person and maybe i can be better at talking in 2018, either way take care and i hope the new year will treat you good <3

💝@04gf bby i love u so much i hope you’re doing good!! <3 god i haven’t talked with you for ages??? i’m so sorry abt that but i guess we’ve both been bussy but i hope you’re taking care of yourself and school is nice!<3 god you’re such a beautiful gal on the inside and out you light up my lil heart! take care and i’ll try do better talking to you in 2018 and i hope the new year will be good on you!

💝@xiuminscheeks we haven’t had that much of a conversation but you’re so sweet and caring it really warms my heart and i smile whenever i see you pop up on my dash!<3 thank you for being such a sweet person and i really hope 2018 will tread you well! take care!

💝@xiukitty how are you doing darling? i hope the last months have been good and you’ve had time to smile and have fun! <3 i hope you get time to rest and relax. you’re such a sweetheart and i’m so glad to have met you and been able to talk to you wow! thank you for being so nice and amazing you deserve the best 2018, take care sweetie!

💝@bright-black-blunder my sweet child, it’s been ages? i hope you’re doing good and having a good time! i hope that the last few months have been easy on you and that you’ve taken care of yourself! you’re really sweet, like wow such a pure soul ily :(( please take care in 2018 i miss talking to you and i’ll try to be better with that in the new year, stay hydrated and remember to have fun!

💝@suhosbulge i went back to look at our messages and the last thing was literally talking about keeping nut in a jar and nut diet and idk if i should laguh or cry. you’re fun and such a nice person i really hope to talk about nut more in 2018 with you wow. i hope you get to swallow some nut and take care :(( ily!

💝@trumpsluckylady hey i really hope you’re doing good! we haven’t talked in a while but i still care loads about you and you’re so much fun to talk to sorry i suck at holding conversations omg!! :(( you’re a darling and wow such a nice and neat person :( <3 i really hope you’ll do good in 2018 and that the new year will be good!

💝@niniandnoodul my dude :(( ily sweetie i hope you’re doing well! you’re such a cutie and you are really lovely :( we haven’t talked all that much but omg i feel like we have talked forever and i always light up when i see you on my dash and i hope 2017 has been good for you and that 2018 will be even better. take care sweetie ily!

💝@localgaylad we haven’t been mutuals for all that long but i remember i got a ask from a anon saying they shipped us and i had to check you out aiusgdus i hope you’re doing well and having a good end of the year! you’re neat to talk to and really nice! thank you for lighting up my dash sweetie, take care in 2018!

💝@suhosbread bro...where do i even begin? i wrote some no homo to you on christmas but shit i really appreciate you a lot and it feels like we’ve talked for forever even if it only was about a year ago? amazing isn’t it... you’re such a soft sweet boy and wow i’m lucky to have you as my bro :(( <3 2017 has been rough but let’s make 2018 good and let’s continue complain together and can’t wait to see what work you have for 2018 and to watch you have fun :(( a lil homo but ily a whole lot, thank you for being such a wonderful person like really :((

💝@jinsflower girl, first of all i miss you but i hope you’re having some sweet ass time in korea now! it looks so amazing and god i wish i was there with y’all! you’re like such a sweetheart for real, you’re such a libra and wow :(( thank you for being such an amazing friend and let’s have so much fun in 2018 when we graduate and all! <333

💝@exogege we talked a lot in the beginning of the year and i hope the rest of the year has been good to you and you’ve had fun! you’re a whole load of nice things and i really hope 2k18 will be good to you and you can have loads of fun and do what you want to do, take care sweetie!<3

💝@chanhee

we haven’t talked in forever i’m a bad person i’m sorry :(( you’re really fun and you’re so sweet but i suck. i hope it’s been good though, and that 2018 will be good to you! and i can’t believe the last thing we talked about was how damn short i was wow, iconic??

💗 123 - e 💗

💞 @7deer-ofthe-dawn7💞 @baekshitbyun💞 @baekstockings💞 @bebebyun💞 @bunnyleader💞 @baekiexing💞 @bitchasschanyeol💞 @buzzcutsoo💞 @citruscake💞 @chogihuns💞 @cyberksoo💞 @chanyevol💞 @chonyeol💞 @chilyeol💞 @cuntykai💞 @daesaurus💞 @exoblesso💞 @exordiam💞 @exoistheuniverse💞

💗 j - z 💗

💞@juhyeol💞 @joonmeow-ing💞@junmyeon-please💞 @junmyonenie💞 @kardsine💞@kaihunnies💞@kimjonginsmom💞@littlephoton💞 @luflute💞 @mochibobohu💞 @my1ady 💞 @sakura-gucci-panda💞 @suhocentric💞 @shinelike-hobi💞 @suh01💞 @shimmie-shimmie-kokobop💞 @taem-jinki 💞 @taegnsic💞 @wheatleyoppa💞 @xiaoluxury💞 @xingmi4life💞 @yeogibuteora💞 @yifangalaxies💞 @yeolsofly💞 @yowlie💞 @zyex💞

#mutual appreciation #ily all so much like wow you're all so nice and fun and all i wanna do is bake cookies for all of you #and again im so so sorry if i missed someone there was a lot of people and i have looked through two times but i'm tired i could've missed #someone #:((((#and like some ppl i can't find i think?????#pls take care everyone god i love you so much #im so soft and gay this isn't very aqua of me #anyways!!! it's a few hours left until 2018 and i thought let's start it good #please take care and i'm here if anyone would need to talk about anything #ok i hope i also didn't bu accident get someone that int a mutual in there yikes

88 notes · View notes

ramblings-of-a-resident · 7 years ago

Text

A look back at intern year

A long and brutally honest look back:

A year ago, I packed up everything I owned, got on a Greyhound bus, and moved to an apartment I’d never seen in a city I wasn’t at all acquainted with where I didn’t know one.single.person. I left behind my friends, my family, my husband, my dogs, my entire life.

I was more excited than I can describe. I was more terrified than I know how to express. It was exhilarating.

A year ago, I sat in a room way up high with a view overlooking my new city with the other new surgery interns while the senior residents gave lectures about what to expect, how to tie knots, the pointy knife is a #11 blade and the round one is a #10.

I believed them desperately through my terror as they said, “intern year is so fun,” “I miss intern year,” “you’re going to have the time of your life.”

I believed them, but I shouldn’t have.

Intern year was not fun. It was not the time of my life. It was hard. It was miserable. I will not miss it.

I started the beginning of the year off service on ortho and urology. Off service, AKA where they don’t have to care about you. I worked insane hours reducing fractures without appropriate supervision and answering the multiple pagers I was carrying at once. I didn’t step foot inside of an OR. I literally physically felt like I was drowning. I seriously wondered if I had made a mistake in choosing surgery. I sobbed on the phone to my husband on more than one occasion.

Then I went into the SICU for two months straight. In House of God, the narrator likes the ICU because it’s easy – just a bunch of numbers and formulas, no “real” medicine. The truth in this is dumbfounding. The SICU became comfortable quickly and I got good at it quickly and I got bored of it quickly. At the end of two months, I could practically adjust a ventilator or pressors or tube feeds in my sleep. My opinion was valued highly by the attendings on rounds (which – kill me – lasted 2-3 hours every morning), but outside of rounds, the fellows viewed me as a note-writing scut machine. The saving grace was that I had a lot of time to be able to teach the medical students rotating through the SICU.

In October, I finally got to join my people in general surgery when I rotated on to our colorectal service – a notoriously busy and hectic rotation with demanding attendings. After the serious learning curve that was adjusting to being back in the surgical world, I actually had a pretty good month. My team was amazing - we all worked hard, often laughed together til we cried, and had a blast teaching our awesome med students we had that month. Though I was still terrified of being a doctor, scared of the OR even as much as I loved it, and learning how to navigate the hierarchy that is the world of surgery, I could feel myself easing in. It felt awesome.

With November came surg onc with it’s own set of challenges. I lost my first patient – I will never forget the image of him hemorrhaging out of his mouth with fear in his eyes. I told his mother by myself while my chief was in the operating room that her son had died unexpectedly. It ripped me to pieces and I lost sleep over it for a long time, but my colleagues (interns all the way up to chiefs) rallied behind me.

December was vascular surgery. Vascular has a reputation of being the hardest rotation of intern year, and there is a very good reason for that reputation. If there is a hell, it is being an intern on vascular surgery for eternity. The hours were truly brutal, the patients sick/dying, the leadership totally absent, the attendings not only mean but unethical and immoral. Winter descended so it was dark when I went to work and dark when I left. It was cold. The stress of the ABSITE hung over me always. The stench of dead feet never left my nose. I was often relegated to assisting on angios for days at a time with an attending who is notorious for not letting residents do anything except hold wires. Vascular broke me. I was desperate for anything but vascular by the time to new year rolled around.

The new year brought with it my happy place – our public city hospital. The atmosphere was more laid back, the attendings seemed to truly value resident input, I saw a lot of true general surgery (gall bladders and appys and hernias galore!). The patients (90% of whom speak no English) were incredibly grateful to their care team. I took consults as an intern, which was a really fun learning experience, even if it was exhausting at times. It was here that I truly began to become comfortable in the operating room as the attendings let me stand on the patient’s right side. The ABSITE came and went. Six weeks there flew by and then I was whisked back to our mother ship for six weeks on our program director’s service.

Six weeks with my program director was stressful, as anticipated, but what truly killed me slowly over that six weeks was the amount of scut I was doing. By this time in the year, I was finally coming into my own as a doctor. At the beginning of the year I hadn’t minded scut – I didn’t know how to be a doctor so I was happy to just take direction and be useful however I could. By February, I was good for more than just transporting patients and prescribing medications to patients the senior residents had operated on because the seniors couldn’t be bothered to do it. It began to eat me up. And not just me – my classmates felt the same way. But we were totally helpless, literally everyone had more power than us. Morale was low.

April came and I spent a second month on colorectal. The level of scut was out of control, and on top of it all my cointerns would often comment that our already difficult-to-please chief was harder on me than anyone else. Outside of the OR, I was miserable, but inside of the OR, I finally found something I was actually really good at (though I probs should not admit that I am very, very good at sewing inside of an asshole). My confidence blossomed, which did not help the misery of being stuck doing “intern work.”

May was a nice wind-down-to-vacation month as I rotated on plastic surgery. I always work hard, but it was nice not to have any real expectations since I’m not “one of them.” It was relaxed. Everyone was so happy and so nice (residents AND attendings)! The chief never yelled if someone was late to rounds because they’d been stuck in the hospital til 2am, residents would scrub into ORs they weren’t assigned to to help speed along the surgery so everyone could go home at a reasonable time, my weekend calls were home calls. I think I only transported one patient all month. I was treated like a resident more than an intern.

The chiefs graduated at the end of May. I won a teaching award at the banquet. I celebrated with my cointerns who have become family, each one of them with their strengths and quirks, each one of them with their special home in my heart.

June – sweet, sweet June. After going 11 months without more than 2 days off in a row, June finally came and with it came vacation. I walked out of the hospital (late, of course) on the last day of May and literally did not look back. And now here I am.

I believed them desperately through my terror as they said, “intern year is so fun,” “I miss intern year,” “you’re going to have the time of your life.” They were wrong.

But what they were right about was, “ you will form incredible friendships this year,” “you will grow so much,” “in a year, you won’t believe where you started and how far you have come.”

I adore my surgery residency family, especially my co-interns. I have grown into a doctor, the beginnings of a surgeon. And I truly can’t believe I got here from where I started. It has been a harder journey than I had ever imagined, but here I am, after it all, standing upright. Here I am, ready to continue hurtling forward.

#general surgery residency #general surgery #intern year #a look back

262 notes · View notes

tanarafirequiver · 7 years ago

Text

“Oh shit,....”

Synopsis: Kaydince (Tanni’s lil sister) is home with her and Tanni’s fiance Theron because Tanni is heavily pregnant and due any day. Tanni is Not Prepared™ and it’s a disaster. Kaydince’s girlfriend Vortrai did not need to be here but she is anywho.

Word count: 2033

Author’s note:

(I did a LOT of research and to be fair, I didn’t really want to write the gritty details because NOPE. This is the first thing I’ve written ing 299999 years so yeah. *flops on bed*)

Tanni hated being cooped up. She never has and never will, but the only thing that kept her sane was the mountain of fabrics she had her sister and Theron buy for her to make baby clothes and other baby related items. She would make all sorts of quilts, socks, shoes, onesies, and other things to keep her mind at bay from remembering how she was practically chained to the bed. Her pregnancy was yes rough and she did understand everyone’s concerns but she’d be damned if she didn’t get more fresh air. As September changed into October, she noticed how everyone around her became so anxious. It drove her nuts and to knitting. By the first week of of October she had made enough baby clothes for a mother whom was expecting triplets. The house was running out of space to store all these cute clothes.

Tanni slowly went down stairs to find her little sister Kaydince and Theron sitting at the table next to one another. There was a cup of tea where she assumed she was going to sit. She took her place and before she could even pick her cup of tea up, Kaydince spoke.

“Tanni, you need to stop with the sewing. Your machine is running all day and night and what the hell are you going to do with all those baby clothes once the little one grows out of them?” Theron nodded mutely, but had yet to join the conversation.

“I don’t plan on only having one kid first and foremost.” Theron’s eyes grew wide as he looked to his fiance. “And secondly, I know a tart who’s expecting as well so I can give her some if needed. I’m pretty sure she’d appreciate it.” Kaydince sighed.

“Okay, but you need to stop before one of us smacks you and it’ll probably be me. It’ll be me, I highly doubt Theron would lay a hand on you.” Theron angrily glared at the blonde girl next to him, causing her to grow nervous.”Look, all I’m trying to say is we love you, but this is an intervention to get you to stop sewing. This is insane.”

Tanni grumbled. “Sorry for having a baby this active in me to the point where I can’t get a wink fo sleep at night and I’m just so tired all the time and I’m so worried that everything isn’t going to be okay and I just want things to be alright.” Tanni’s breathing quickened as she hiccuped through her words. Tears welled up in her eyes as she began to cry. Kaydince and Theon looked at one another and cringed. KD felt really bad about sounding harsh.

“Babe we’re worried too, and we’re worried that you’re doing so much sewing and what not isn’t good for you either.” He gently rubbed her back, causing the red haired woman to wince. “Did I do something?”

“No, my back hurts and I have a headache. I overall just feel like I’m DYING.” She exasperated through her sobs. Speranza awoke and sped over to Tanni to comfort her mistress. She whined in sorrow as she watched her cry. The pups followed mom’s lead and rushed over, except for Serena who was still very much sound asleep like her dad Aspero.

“Tan, sis, I would just go back upstairs and really try to get some rest. You’re due any day and you really need your rest for when the baby goes pop.” She watched Theron help her up.

“Theron I can walk up a few stairs, you don’t need to escort me.” She huffed, wiping her face with her free hand.

“Tanni I would honestly feel better if I did though-”

“I’m fiiiiiine! Just because I’m due soon doesn’t mean the baby is gonna come to-” The house grew silent as Tanni froze halfway up the stairs. A small pool of clear liquid managed to flood the few stairs under Tanni. Everyone’s eyes were wide in confusion and horror.

“Tanni-” Theron was cut off by his fiance.

“Of course my water breaks, that’s just fucking convenient!”

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

Tanni was a little surprised that she managed to jinx herself into labor. She wasn’t in any serious pain but it was freaking her sister and Theron out a lot. Kaydince yelled for him to go get Ladice, the undead monk who was going to deliver Tanni’s baby as her husband Ellucius had no clue in that department despite being her physician during her pregnancy. Kaydince was dashing all over the house to get everything set up for the Monk’s arrival so it’d be easier on her.

Three hours had passed and Theron enters the house again, very nervous.

“Theron, where is Ladice, shouldn’t she be with you?” Tanni asked nervously, picking up on his fear.

“Um,... they’re not home.”

“What the FUCK do you mean they’re not home?” Tanni hissed, then turning to her sister Kaydince as she gasped, realizing something.

“I forgot they were going on holiday with their son, his wife and their adopted daughter this week. Oh crud.” Tanni’s eyes grew wider than a deer in headlights. “Tanni I’m so sorry I completely forgot and I honestly didn’t think you’d end up delivering so early.”

“I-I-It’s okay Kaydince,... it just happens…” Tanni huffed, clearly having a contraction. “What am I gonna do now if Ladice isn’t here to help?” Theron was glancing between the two women. He was unusually quiet. It was very out of character for him to be this quiet. It seemed like forever before Kaydince spoke up.

“I got this. This isn’t the first baby I’ve delivered and will not be the last.” She single handed put her hair up into a messy bun. A knock on the door sent Theron bolting to the door. He opened it to find a troll shaman there with a smile and basket of fruits She even carried with her a few things that Kaydince left with her.

“ I ‘eard my birdie was ‘ere. Where she a-” She was interrupted by Tanni hollering in pain, her contractions clearly getting worse. “By da elements, is your lil’ lady gearin’ up ta have ‘er lil’ one?” Theron nodded mutely.

“I-I-It was out of the blue, she was walking u-up the stairs and,... y-yeah.” The Illidari was still visibly taken aback by the suddenness of the event.

“VORTRAI IS THAT YOU?” Kaydince yelled over Tanni.”

“Yah birdie, I’m ‘ere. What’cha needin’?”

“I need you to grab towels, a bucket of water, cold, some sterilized gloves and for the love of everything holy in this fucking light-forsaken world, THERON GET YOUR ASS UP HERE AND HOLD TANNI’S HAND. THIS IS YOUR CHILD AS WELL SO GET THE FUCK UP HERE!” The house grew silent. Not a creature stirred, except for the yellow collared pup Miraviglia, who sneezed. Theron awkwardly walked up the stairs as Vortrai began to gather the supplies from around the house and gather them into her bag full of what happened to be more medical supplies.

Tanni looked over to her fiance, already beginning to tire from the labor. She took his hand with her own, her face contorted in pain as contractions came and went. Kaydince took the supplies and thanking the shaman. They both worked in unison to prepare the entire place for the birth. As another contraction came on, Tanara squeezed Theron’s hand so tightly a cracking noise could almost be heard despite Tanni’s cries.

“Wadda fuck was dat?” Vortrai asked, looking over to find Theron hunching over in pain.

“I think she broke his hand a little….” Kaydince presumed, trying to not giggle out of the hilarity of the situation.

“You think? I know she at least fractured something!” Theron hissed in pain as Tanni hesitantly let go. She opened her mouth to speak but he had interrupted. “Don’t apologize, it’s fine. I have another hand.” He watched as she had another contraction, wiping the hair from her forehead and tucking it behind her ear.

“Dis is gonna be a loooooong night. If dat babe anyt’ing like i’s momma or fadah, i’ ain’t comin’ out ‘til tomorrow mornin’.” Everyone turned to glare at Vortrai. “Ah jinxed it didn’t I?” Theron huffed as he did his best not to groan in pain as the troll wrapped his injured hand. Tanara and Kaydince both shaking their heads in either annoyance or exhaustion.

“No shit.” Kaydince hissed. “It’s already sketchy considering this baby is going to be premature!” Vort’s eyes widened. She rushed around to set the crib up for any and all emergencies while Kaydince instructed her how to. Theron watched in worry as he glanced between all the women in the room.

“Theron, calm your shit. Everything will be okay. Between Vort and I I highly doubt any- actually I’m not going to add onto the bad karma here so nope. But do calm down, if you’re stressed then Tanni will be stressed and it’ll go the baby and it’ll fuck with me so stop that shit or get the fuck out.” The room grew quieter as Theron’s heavy breathing grew softer and less stressed. Everything then quickly escalated as Tanni seemed to only get worse from there as complications came and went.

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

Seconds turned to minutes and minutes to hours. Saturday’s afternoon became Sunday’s early evening. Tanni’s usually sleek and straight red poofed up into her natural texture of insane curls from the humidity in the room, Theron looked like he had seen battle with demons, and the two ‘midwives’ were feverishly helping Tanni in the last legs of the birth. The second the baby was born it didn’t cry. Kaydince rushed her away, scaring Theron even more as she feverishly worked. Tanni, being completely worn out, didn’t even realize it until Theron shot downstairs to inquire. Vort did her best to help them both calm their nerves and concerns and did eventually get there.

Everyone except Kaydince was momentarily resting at last after a very long day and night of yelling and lack of. Kaydince called for Vort. The troll almost flew down to aid the priestess. Theron looked down the stairs as best as he could, his heart dropping with every minute there was no cry. He looked to Tanara, who seemed ready to cry. He climbed into the bed with her, gently holding her. A high pitched screech came from downstairs after what seemed like a year of waiting in the quiet.

The two healers walked back upstairs with a yelling bundle. Kaydince shakily placed it into Tanni arms as Vort collapsed into the plush rocker face first.

“Her lungs were underdeveloped and-”Kaydince who was stifling a yawn was interrupted by Tanni’s sudden burst of energy.

“Her?” Tanni asked, eyes widened. Theron was equally buzzing in excitement as he helped calm the infant.

“Yes Tanni, you have a daughter and thus is my niece. Now excuse me as I pass out in a pile of wolves.” Tanni and Theron though she was joking. They were wrong and watched as they brand new aunt flopped over to the wolf beds and snuggled up next to them and passed out instantly.

“To be fair I can’t blame her.” Theron whispered as they finally got the infant to calm down. “Well, wanna make it official?” He smiled at his fiance, beaming in pride and joy. She nodded.

“Light, she looks far more like you than she does of me. Little,...Sayenne Elizabeth.” Theron raised an eyebrow.

“Elizabeth, where did that come from?” He watched Tanni gesture over to her sleeping sister.

“Its Kaydi’s middle name. I think it’s only right.” She smiled as she watched the newborn fall asleep.

“I see. It does suit her. Bit of a mouthful, but I like it.” They both nodded as Tanni closed her eyes and laid back. Theron watched as she fell asleep. “Sleep well, rasberry, you’ve more than earned it. He took the sleeping infant out her her arms and took the baby downstairs.

“Mom need to sleep so you’re gonna hang out with me for now Sayenne.” In that moment did it dawn on him, he just became a father. “Oh fuck,.....”

#tanni #theron #SHE HAD HER BABY #writings #Welcome to the world Sayenne Elizabeth Mirthbane-Flameshade!#its a mouthful #>.>#swears tw #caps tw

1 note · View note

crossedbeams · 8 years ago

Text

Lost Letters - Eight

|| Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven || Part Eight

TXF |MSR | Revival - Post Home Again | Angst | PG | 8/8

Thank you to everyone who has been so encouraging and kind to this story. My plan to have it done for Christmas was horribly optimistic but I hope the ending has been worth the wait.

Mulder pulls up at Maggie Scully’s house at 10:55am on Christmas Eve and looks wistfully at the empty passenger seat. While he isn’t sure exactly what is about to happen, that he won’t end up arresting some misguided Santa wannabe for trespass, he does wish he’d found a way to explain the whole thing to Scully. She’s probably safer at home, but still, it feels wrong sitting here alone when this whole thing seems to have been about her.

He had planned to tell her, to offer her a way in and not return to his old habit of running at mysteries without her, but the right moment had never presented itself. Few conversations leave space for a casual, “Hey Scully, so I’ve been getting these anonymous letters about giving you your Christmas wish and apparently it all finishes on your mom’s lawn tomorrow!” It’s not exactly post-therapy, or pre-briefing conversation. Then, there were more important things to consider, like that someone was murdering old folks and then hiding them in snowmen or the fact that the mother of his child had sat in a room with him and a stranger and laid bare some feelings he had thought long-lost.

“I’m angry. With myself for giving up and with Mulder for leaving all those years ago. And with myself for still not being able to get over it. And I’m scared that I’ll never not be angry. And I’m sad that being so angry for so long has cost me so much.”

She hadn’t cried but he had.

He’d cried like had the night his mom died; the guilt, the loss and the terror of loneliness rising uncontrollably from somewhere deep beneath all the healing he’d done and forcing itself free. Scully hadn’t held him like she had back then, hadn’t tried to sew him back together along the messy incisions of his grief, but she had passed him a tissue, stroked his arm and after their hour was up she had held his hand as they left.

When they reached their separate cars she smiled one of her sad smiles,

‘Between us, we must be keeping D.C.’s psychiatrists in business!’

A joke to try and soften the separation, an old tactic practiced in endless crises, but he hadn’t been able to respond in kind.

‘We probably should have done this a long time ago Scully.’

‘Mulder.’ she’d perfected the art of saying his name like a sigh. ‘There are a lot of things we should have done a long time ago.’

And then she was gone, only as far as the office but far enough for him to lose his nerve, to swallow back the story of the letters and all the other things he’d been meaning to tell her. Things like that he loved her, that for him hard anger had crumbled years ago into something soft and sad, regret and guilt and self-loathing, but not blame, not anymore.

As the second hand on his watch ticks towards the hour, Mulder decides that after he is done here he will go to Scully’s apartment and tell her these things. Maybe she’ll let him see the album again. She wouldn’t need to tell him new stories, reliving the first ones would be enough for now, it was more than he ever thought he’d get. He drifts into a soft reminiscence of a picture, Scully sleeping with William draped over her chest, his little fist pressed into her cheek. Maggie had taken that one, Scully said, the day her self-sufficiency had cracked with exhaustion and she’d called her mom begging for help cleaning up, only to pass out on the sofa the second she sat down. According to Maggie, mother an baby had slept through both the washing machine and the vacuum cleaner, stirring only when nature called the smaller of their party.

The purr of an engine invades Mulder’s memories and he glances up, expecting… he’s not sure what exactly he is expecting, but it’s not Scully, pulling into the driveway across from him with a quizzical expression on her face.

He gets out of the car right as a clock down the road strikes the hour, and crosses to her.

‘So what’s with the mysterious rendezvous, Mulder?’ She is curious but not cross, and holding a familiar red envelope.

‘You’ve been getting them too?’ He asks,and her eyebrow climbs north.

‘Them? Mulder, all I got was your note asking me to meet you here today.’ She holds up the envelope and he sees his own handwriting, spidery and slanted, forming the familiar letters of her name on the crisp paper.

‘I - I didn’t send that Scully…’ he stutters and instantly regrets his words when her expression of indulgence dissolves into a guarded blankness that he knows means she is hurt and hiding it. He hadn’t written it but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want her here.

Too late.

‘Mulder. It’s Christmas eve and I don’t have time for… I thought you... Actually just forget it! We’re not who we used to be and it was stupid of me to come. This is not a festive ghost hunt I want to be a part of.’ And before he can find the words to stop her, she’s at her car door and grappling with the handle which resists her.

‘Scully wait-’

‘NO!’ she surprises him with her volume, with the brightness of tears already spilling and the hoarseness of her rage. ‘We were supposed to be moving forward Mulder and I won’t - I can’t - For fucks sake Mulder, give me my keys and stop whatever this is!’

But he doesn’t have her keys and he didn’t lock her car and he doesn’t have any words so instead he just crosses to her and puts his hands on her shoulders as she begins to sob, batting him away, hard at first and then weakly as she crumples into the shelter of his chest.

Around her sorrow she chokes out words, questions that he has asked himself many times and never been able to answer.

‘Why are we like this Mulder? Why do we never say what we want? I’m tired of leaving trails of clues, following ambiguous hints towards what I hope is a shared destination. I want things to be simple. I want to feel safe.’

And he wants to tell her she is safe but he doesn’t know it for sure; Mulder never has been confident in his ability to shield Scully’s heart from his own chaos or her body from their enemies. Even now doesn’t know that the engine he hears behind him isn’t some stalker or psychopath with a van full of red envelopes and cruel intentions. He pulls her away from the noise and towards the house while he tries to get his bearings in the mess this morning has become.

The engine turns out to belong to the mail man, whistling his way from house to house and barely sparing a glance for the spectacle that is Scully sniffling on the porch and Mulder trying to stand between her and the world. When he passes, Mulder flops down on the porch and pats the step next to him.

‘Sit down Scully and I’ll try to explain. though God knows I have no idea what’s going on.’

And with a snotty sounding cough she nods and stays. It’s more than he hoped for.

Mulder tells her about the first letter and his dismissal of it, then about thanksgiving, though he leaves out the terror that had choked him and the desperate fear that had possessed his whole body as he drove to her side. He hears the crook of her eyebrow, though he doesn’t look over, when he starts theorising about the writer’s motive and she quietly questions the more ludicrous of his ideas.

It takes less time than he expects to lay the whole thing out. In the light of day and the company of his oldest confidante it all seems much less dramatic than it felt as it happened, problems shared between them always did seem more manageable. Mulder only objects a little when Scully suggests that aside from the eeriness of the timing and the sneaky delivery of the letters, there’s not really a case. An annoyance maybe, a series of coincidences and a possible invasion of privacy, but the motive doesn’t seem to be sinister. And as for the end game... With Scully at his side in the winter sunshine, Mulder thinks maybe the letter writer has done a strange thing for the right reasons.

It’s gone eleven, the hour has passed and they are together and talking, the low husk of Scully’s laugh is crackling through the years long silence between them like spring on a frozen lake. There have been days in the past few years, especially in the barrenness after Maggie’s death, where this eventuality has seemed as unlikely as the most ridiculous X-File. But here they are. Maybe that’s all the writer wanted. But how did they know?

It hits Mulder suddenly.

‘Scully, did you write the letters?!’ And he turns fast enough to read in her surprise that she didn’t.

‘Of course I didn’t Mulder! If I wanted you to show up somewhere, or to talk to you, I would have just called!’

It’s his turn to look disbelieving, and Scully blushes a little.

‘Okay, maybe I wouldn’t… But if I was going to ask you for help, this isn’t really my style. Why would I have invited myself in your handwriting? And surely you would have recognised my writing weeks ago?’

Mulder begins to argue that she could have got somebody to write on her behalf, but stops as soon as he starts. If Scully were desperate enough to reach out in letter form, the likelihood of her also being willing to share the depths to which she has sunk with a third party is minute. She also wouldn’t have been so hurt by his accidental rejection when she arrived. And she’s never been able to fake so much as his signature on an application form, let alone an invitation in his handwriting. So Mulder lets the theory slip into silence and they sit, waiting for a sign to move or a reason to stay.

Neither arrives, and though Mulder’s heart is warm in Scully’s presence, his ass is beginning to freeze. He levers himself upright, feeling each year in the complaint of his joints and reaches down to his partner.

‘C’mon Scully. Let’s not waste another Christmas Eve on a wild ghost chase. Coffee. I’m buying.’

And they leave the porch same way they arrived, together, though this time there are no tears.

As they pass the end of the driveway, the small red flag of the mailbox pricks at Mulder’s consciousness and he stops.

It could be nothing, and a leisurely coffee with Scully seems like enough of a miracle after the year they’ve had. But now she’s noticed it too and before he can stop her she’s opened the flap and pulled out a red envelope.

‘Oh.’

Is all she says and Mulder reaches for it but she won’t let go. It’s the same script, the same size as all the others, but Scully’s holding this one as though the answers to every question they have ever asked are inside.

When she looks at him, her eyes are wide and a tear is caught in each corner.

‘Mulder…’ she manages, and he begins to panic, wishing she hadn’t come, that he’d kept this stupid scheme away from her during this season of vulnerability, but it’s too late and she’s biting her lip as she looks back at the envelope.

‘This is my mother’s writing.’

And as the seal is broken, things begin to fall into place. The familiar feel of the S and C in the signature, seen so often in cards and on restaurant bills. How had he not seen it before? How had he not recognised the sweet familiarity of his name in Maggie’s phrases, her concern and her straight-forwardness in the requests made. Mulder is so caught in the revelation of his own blindness, that the questions about how a dead woman is sending messages don’t start to register until Scully has already read the note and started for the house.

She scrambles in her pocket for the door key, fumbles the lock and waves her hand in Mulder’s face as he starts to ramble about the impossibility, the insanity, the idea that this could be the cruellest of pranks.

Scully takes the stairs at something close to a run, stumbling over the rug at the top and righting herself against the wall even as the other hand reaches for the attic ladder. Her ascent is reckless, deaf to Mulder’s concerns and with each rung years seem to drop from her face, poles switching as she chases a wraith-like truth and he tries to protect her with scepticism. But Scully is unstoppable, charging through dust motes that hang lazy in the midday sun and stopping only when a box is recovered and placed between them, a neat red string holding it closed and an envelope tucked underneath.

Time slows down then, breathing with it, and when Scully meets his eyes, Mulder can see doubt creeping back in to cloud the manic blue that had dragged them inside.

‘She said this was for us.’

There is no question in Scully’s voice, but she doesn’t reach for the string either. Mulder waits for more, caught again in the hushed moments between intention and action, the place where he and Scully had worked for so long side-by-side but never touching. He wants to touch now, to tear into the box that was intended for them, the two of them, together, but he is also afraid.

She always was the brave one.

Scully’s hands are steady as she unties the bow and opens the envelope, as steady as they were when she shook his hand all those years ago in the basement, and reached for him on the night they finally crashed together. Mulder is less steady, so he moves behind her, one hand light on the small of her back and his head ducked into the sweet air above her shoulder that he always felt was his true home. This way they can read together.

Dear Dana and Fox.

I never planned to do things this way, but I also didn’t plan on leaving so suddenly. The Lord works in mysterious ways, I realise that now, more than ever. For many years I felt myself caught between those who were lost to me and those who remained. My faith let me keep Melissa and your father alive in my heart, believing I would see them again, and I hope Dana that the same will be true for you when it comes to me. I will always be with you, as are they, even when things seem impossibly dark.

What was much harder was the separation from those still living, from Charlie when he fled from us, from you when you disappeared for all those years, and from William. I never judged you for giving him up, and though I never truly understood your reasons, I had faith in your love for him. I knew you had only done what you felt you had to.

Which is why I must ask your forgiveness for what follows, for what I did and never told you. Over the years I watched you and Fox struggle with your grief and I waited for the right time to tell you, a time where what I had would be a blessing and not another burden. It never came or perhaps I was just never brave enough. But this is my last chance, my last letter, and my last confession.

Know please that this began, as it ends, with my love for you, my daughter and my son, and for the child we all so briefly shared.

Merry Christmas darling, and many happy years to come.

Mom

They open the box together, sat hip to hip on the settling boards of the house and unpack Maggie’s final gift.

It begins with letters, dated the second year they were on the run and addressed first to Father McCue and then to a series of Catholic adoption agencies. The tone is a mix of polite formality and heartbreak and the subject is William. Maggie appears to have petitioned various agencies to reveal the location of her grandson, with little success.

The trail gathers intensity as time passes, Maggie revealing her fears that her daughter and Mulder are dead, begging not for custodyor regular contact, but simply for reassurance that her grandson is okay. Her net widens to include Skinner at the FBI, Bill’s contacts in the government anyone who might be able to help and it all seems hopeless. Scully’s, ‘Oh , Mom,’ is laden with sorrow and just a touch of resignation at the genetic source of her tenacity, relentlessly pursuing the impossible.

But then there’s a letter in an unfamiliar hand, forwarded by an agency in Wyoming, the originating address redacted. The tone is hesitant, but stuck to the end is a small photograph of a toddler, leaning crookedly on the arm of a scruffy sofa. He has brown hair, big blue eyes and a grin that is 100% Mulder.

William.

The letter is from the boy’s adoptive mother, her update short, fear that the attempt to reach them means trouble for the boy who is now her beloved son leaching from the ends of her sentences the same way the ink spreads where Scullys tears hit the paper.

From there on there are thick folders of letters and photographs, one from each year, the tone growing conversational as it becomes clear that Maggie does not want to take the boy away. The Van der Kamps are simple, honest folks, and speak with unguarded pride about their son, photocopied report cards and classroom awards intermingling with Little League team pictures and Christmas round robins. There is a snapshot of a life in the box, a life that the two people surrounded by years of lost letters had made together and have missed.

The afternoon wears on in cycles of grief and elation: laughter at William’s terrible fourth grade poetry composition, his Halloween costumes and bad haircuts, and sadness over the few half-true tidbits Maggie was able to share when William began asking questions about his birth parents. There has never been direct contact, the same Wyoming caseworker passing on letters between the two parties each month, but the connection is there and it burns a clean hot line through the decade of unanswered questions that Mulder and Scully have been carrying like a cross.

When the light begins to fail Scully flops back onto the messy tumble of papers behind her, eyes bleary from crying but somehow lighter than she has been in months. Mulder sets aside the 8th grade essay on space exploration he’s been devouring and peels off his reading glasses, leaning back on an elbow until he can see her face in the half-light.

‘He’s okay,’ is all she says, and lays a hand on the five o'clock shadow on his cheek, connecting them over the record of their sons existence. The papers under her shift and William’s face appears, laughing over something off camera, but alive and thriving. Mulder smiles, and the act unknots something that has been choking his heart for the longest time without him really noticing.

‘He’s more than okay Scully’, he tells her, smoothing the strand of hair that always disobeys her careful styling behind her ear. ‘He’s a miracle.’

And she nods and smiles back and sobs and then pulls him down, pressing her lips to his cheekbone and his forehead as he holds her close.

When the night finds them they are still there, locked together by Maggie’s gift, still broken but now with a chance of healing. When Scully scrabbles for the light switch, Mulder makes a silly joke about it never usually being this easy to chase the darkness away and she laughs. They pack the photographs and letters back into the box but they do not tie it shut, instead passing it down the ladder and leaving it on the table as they start to build a fire in the long empty grate. He dials for takeout and she pours wine, each casting glances back to the box of memories that Maggie has left them, sated for the day but wanting to check it is still real.

When midnight strikes they are curled tightly together on the couch, lit only by firelight and in the shooting shadows Mulder asks the one thing they have not spoken of in the long hours of discovery.

‘Scully?’

She mumbles her wakefulness into his neck, her lashes kissing butterflies all along his throat.

‘How do you think she did it?’

Scully hums, and then shakes her head.

‘I don’t care Mulder, the logical explanation is… well there isn’t one. All that matters is that she did. So I’m taking this one on faith.’

The silence that follows is warm and it melts into Scully sleeping soundly against his chest. For the first time in a long time, Fox Mulder thinks he might try believing in god. Out of the corner of his eye he catches movement at the window and he sleepily turns to focus on it. She’s gone before he can clear the bleariness from his eyes, but for a split second he’s sure he sees Maggie Scully standing at the window of her house, smiling broadly, winking once and then dissolving into nothing.

The End

#lost letters #my writing #txf #txf fanfic #my writing: msr

187 notes · View notes