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@opthroughtheageszine
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The Dragon, the Boy, the Sun
Second to last drabble for @opthroughtheageszine!
The battle of Onigashima by Noor, based on Shuten-dĹji at Oeyama by Utagawa Yoshitsuya
[ AO3 ]
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Onigashima, the island where the ogres dwell.
A dragon rules over all, his power unchallenged, he is used to obedience; obedience from his ogres, his beasts, his island, his country. He is the strength, he is the rule, he is the king.
None dare oppose himâthose who do, perish.
He soars the skies and drowns his boredom, waiting for a boy born of laughter and joy to rise to the skies and burn the ogreâs kingdom. Will he come? Heâs the only one who can stand before the dragon, the only one who may drag him down from the heavens.
The son of the Moon, once called god, believes the dragon to be the one; his black wings, his raging fire, his sharp swordâall sworn to serve his king. But, the dragon laughs; he is not touched by the Sun. He is but a dragon, waiting to be slain by the heroâhow long shall he wait?
Twenty years have come and gone.
Where once a daughter crouched, a son now stands, those who once were nothing but ghosts, now made of flesh and bone, swords broken but now reforged. The dragon, surrounded.
The scene bathed in moonlight, the island where the ogres dwell in chaos; what would be a night of celebration, today becomes a bloodbath. A festival of fire, turned into a festival of steel.
The dragonâs son turns against him, now following another. A straw hat shines like a halo, drawing warriors to him⌠Itâs all but a joke to the dragon, he is far above this child in power.Â
Still, there is something about him, the dragon must admit; determination burns like fire, a willpower to match, his presence calms the storms raging, bringing calm and light and warmth. The dragon wonders, againsts his own judgementâcould he be the boy the Sun has chosen?
The child falls and rises again, becoming stronger with each strike, his smile widens even as he bleeds, the dragon not far behind. It is fun to fight to the death; how long has it been since the dragon last felt this rush? Adrenalin coursing through his veins, he roars and drinks and laughs.
An intruder stops the fight, makes the child fall one last time; the dragon stands victoriousâbut the cost is high. The clash cut short, for what? It leaves but emptiness and rage behind, a battle with no end, no winners and no losers. A risk taken for naught.
But true to his nature, the child rises, now cloaked in light, joyfully dancing to the rhythm of deafening drums.
âIs this the end?â the dragon asks himself.
The child of joy and Sun is here, bringing laughter and freedom.Â
The skies clear as the dawn breaks. The dragon fallsâ
And the island of ogres is no more.
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Third drabble for @opthroughtheageszine!
The Four Emperors having a totally normal dinner by wijcai, based on Supper at Emmaus by Caravaggio
[ AO3 ]
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Four
Wealth. Fame. Power.
The Pirate King is no more, and his throne sits empty⌠but who is closest to achieving it? The Four Emperors are at the head of the race; which one will come out on top?
Two have fallen, now two have risen in their steadâThe King of the Beasts and the Tyrant Mother are no more, the world is instead abuzz with news of the Genius Jester and the Straw Hat. Along with âRed Hairâ Shanks and âBlackbeardâ Teach, the four have fame and they have power.
Yet, the One Piece remains untouched.
But, have you seen the change in Straw Hat, captured in his poster now?
He died and came back to life, a metamorphosis for all to see; much like a butterfly, he spread his wings and flew to the skies, strong and beautiful and free.
Laughter follows him where he walks, leaving nothing but joy in his wake; he shines like a beacon in the night, a guiding light to those lost in the darkness. Legends come to mind, the name âSun God Nikaâ on peopleâs lipsâwhispered in secret, full of fear⌠What if someone hears?
He is but a myth near forgotten, hated by the gods⌠How could he now walk among us?
Nevertheless, the truth is that Straw Hat Luffy stands on equal footing with the other three today, worthy of his own place at the dinner table. He is the light to Blackbeardâs darkness, a rival to the JesterâŚ
It begs the question, does it not?
What is the role of âRed Hairâ Shanks?
Second (extended) drabble for @opthroughtheageszine!
This one goes with The Heart Pirates and Buggy learning anatomy by tapochekhell, based on The Anatomy Lesson of Dr Nicolaes Tulp by Rembrandt
[ AO3 ]
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Anatomy Lessons with Buggy the Clown
Doing surgery on someone who didnât bleed when cut sounded fun in theory. The ideal patient, really.
With his ability, however, it was something Law was accustomed. Since mastering the Op-Op Fruitâs power, Law didnât have to do a single surgery where bleeding was an issue. It was routine for him. It was routine for everyone on his ship.
It should have been routine for them.
âCaptain, your elbowâs in the way.â
âMove over, Shachi!â
âYou move over!â
Lawâs eye twitched. How in the world did he find himself in this situation? It was supposed to be a quick operation, just dumb appendicitis⌠how, just how did it turn into an âanatomy lessonâ?
âOi, Trafalgar! Are you even doing anything?!â
Closing his eyes momentarily, Law took a deep breath; for a second, he contemplated the pros and cons of sticking a scalpel into his patientâs eye. It wasnât like it was going to hurt him, Buggy the Clown was immune to cutting, it would be fine⌠probably.
Would definitely help relieve some stress if nothing else.
Law clicked his tongue, willing his hand to stay where it was. He couldnât just go stabbing this guy. He wouldnât hear the fucking end of it.
What if he knocked him out first, though�
âCan I like⌠cut out his kidney? It looks fun!â
âNO!!â the goddamned clown screamed, his detached head flying over to glare at Penguin from point blank range, shoving his giant red nose against Penguinâs. While letting his ponytail hit Law in the fucking face.
Suddenly, Law was reminded that he was, apparently, the only adult on this goddamned ship right now. With a sigh, he gave up on stress-relief stabbings⌠for now.
âUnless you all shut up, Iâm going to kick you out,â Law growled dangerously.
âItâs my body! Am I supposed to let your little followers treat me like a circus attraction!?â the clown screeched, whipping around so fast his hair slapped Law in the face.
Again.
Law started counting to ten in his mind, contemplating all the life choices that led him to this mess. But, before he even reached five, someone else snapped.
âStop it, guys! You too, clown!â
God bless Ikkaku. At least someone else was sane in hereâ
Law didnât even manage to finish the thought before the girl continued. âI canât see what Captainâs doing!â
Law had enough. Ripping a glove off, his hand shot up; a split second later, he was gripping Buggyâs ponytail, pulling the floating head harshly away from Penguinâand his own face. He ignored the clownâs loud protests and the crewâs clamouring, instead turning to his first mate.
âBepo.â
Bepo hummed questioningly, looking up from the anatomy book he was studying to glance at Law, then at the head he was holding, a frown appearing on his face. He tilted his head to the side cutely before looking back at Law, giving his captain his full attention.
âGet them the fuck out of here. Including this head.â
âAye aye, sir!â
First of the five drabbles I did for the beautiful @opthroughtheageszine!
This one accompanies Nico Robin as Shiva Nataraja, a beautiful piece drawn by the amazing aqukay! Based on the sculpture by Chola queen Sembiyan Mahadevi
Leftover sales are currently open so do check it out!!
[ READ ON AO3 ]
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A Dance for the World
She dances with grace, a picture of beauty, standing in the spotlight with all eyes on her.
Do they revere or fear her? Itâs always hard to tell.
They admire her beauty, her strength, her kindness. And yet, theyâre terrified of the same things.
She wields her beauty as a weapon, the sharpest knife of all. She pierces through your heart with a smile, cuts your throat without mercy. She stood alone against the world with nothing but her thirst for knowledge keeping her company. An eight-year-old child, left all aloneâsurviving only by strength and wit.
And her kindness, oh, her kindness. The sweetest thing, gentle and soft, open and lovingâŚ
How easy is it to twist light into darkness, warmth into ice, an angel into a devil?
Her kindness burns and The Devil Child rises from the ashes, merciless and cruel, a goddess of destruction ready to tear the world apart. All for the sake of her love. You blink once and thereâs two of her, you blink twice and six hands have a grasp on you. You blink three times and youâre staring Death in the eyesâone, two, three, six, twelve, twenty-four⌠how many eyes does one devil have?
As many eyes, as many hands, as many deaths as she wills there to be.
And she keeps on dancing.
They keep on watching.
Are you able to look away?
She holds the world in her delicate hands, knowledge her greatest power. Words only she can speak, words no one else can understand. Unbreakable stones with unerasable writing, filling her being with beauty and strength and kindness.
Words pour into her, filling the people with awe and hatred, reverence and fear.
She gathers history in her grasp, its language the tune to which she dancesâshe dances in the face of ignorance, stepping over the powers that rule this world. Five monsters and the demon who governs them, the demon who guards the void. She dances, fearless of the vessels of war, the vessels that once destroyed her home.
Her eyes open; her deep, all-knowing eyes, eyes that can read you like an ancient tomeâŚ
The eyesâone, two, three.
One eye to keep the heart and the soul, second to hold her love and kindness, third with the knowledge of the past and the future.
A third eye that can burn the entire world.
My entry for @opthroughtheageszine such a fun zine!! This is my take on Huyendo de la CrĂtica (Escaping criticism) by Pere Borrell del Caso
Leftovers are now open!
La Femme Ă l'ombrelle - Claude Monet
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đźď¸ AFTERSALES OPEN TMR đźď¸
We're quickly approaching our shop reopening! Leftover sales for A Look Through the Ages open TOMORROW, April 15 at 12pm PST! đ¨
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