Yo guys so I made an ao3 account C: I finished uhh… my first zelink week prompt >u>;;; I’ll probably be doing a few more. Anyway, I’ve posted all my one-shots on ao3 so far, so click the link if you want to read more! Enjoy!
Synopsis: My perspective on Link’s Awakening in the Shrine of Resurrection. Super Zelink.
Well, You Know What They Say About Desperate Times... [Chapter Three]
It was a good thing he didn’t take Mo’s incessant insubordination seriously.
“One of my traffickers from Hong Kong says you spat at him.”
“In the mouth.”
The fiery shade from his hair matched the tone of his skin. He was real burn up.*
Was this kid not even going to try to deny it? Or grovel? Say it was his mistake and he’d never do it again?
They both were in HeTian’s office building next to the speakeasy.
HeTian sat with his hands folded on top of the desk which separated them, and Mo GuanShan stood in the middle of the room without a chair. People didn’t sit in his office: they reported, and they got out. The days when he actually needed a chair were the days it came paired with a knife, as well as someone being restrained in it. His boys had suggested if he needed it when he called for Mo GuanShan to be brought to his office, but he just renovated this flooring so he’d hate to stain it so soon.
The kid whose back was straight as can be and arms unmoving by his sides suggested that the training Meng and the others gave the little booger* went successful, if it weren’t for his brazen glaring eyes.
They were in his direction, but not necessarily at him; more like he was staring down a recent memory.
The kid was beginning to become more trouble than he was worth.
The one he had started a fight with was a handsome white male who was useful in transporting opium from the mainland to California and New York. People just didn’t question entitled blonde haired, blue-eyed white males. They could be strapped so much they’d have to walk with a cane, and authorities wouldn’t give much of a damn.
“Luckily for you, that one had been accused of skimming my uncle’s Triad in California. From the top then, Mo GuanShan. And don’t leave out any details…”
“____ , I love _____.”
Mo looked up from drying a glass at the English man before him. He may not understand the language itself, but their accents and way of dress was distinct enough.
“___ ___ ____ __ pretty.”
What? 漂亮*？Was he talking about their canary*? He glanced to the jazz singer on stage in front of the pianist; a unique Chinese-African duo unlike any jazz bar or restaurant had in the entire city. Probably the country. It was ironic, the race known for classical playing, sing jazz with all the bravado of a goddess, and a Black pianist killin’ the keys but in a tux meant for a concerto.
He looked back to the white man in front of him, but his eyes were solely set on the one in front of him. On Mo.
“Can I offer you a drink, sir?”
“You can offer me ____ __ your ____…”
What is this asshole saying?!
He tried to keep a straight face. He was given a crash course in English, but most of the time the customers were either Chinese or just spoke the name of the drink they wanted and whether they wanted added rocks or not. Some would ask about their “special”, for which he was trained to get one of the Triad if they ever said those words, and then they’d lead them upstairs. He was pretty sure they were the buyers or distributors of their opium stock.
“I am…sorry. My English -”
“ ‘Not verry good’?” the man said in an accent that wasn’t his own, and chuckled as if he made a funny joke.
His teeth gritted, “Is not very good. Sir.”
The blonde across slightly widened his eyes, “Oh, ho! ____ __ you! Your English is ______ ____ ____!“
“Thank you,” Mo guessed.
Best to get on with this so he can finish cleaning before the act ended on stage. It was usually when the customers flooded the bar, and this guy wasn’t talking nearly loud enough for his limited English to be of any use.
“Hey, Mister Bartender… Why ____ you and I ____?”
“You know, “getaway”, like “leave”?
Ugh. “I have work, sir.”
Mo silently hoped this guy would take the hint. He didn’t.
“____ __ ____ quick. ____ you and me in the back. I’ll ____ __ ____ your _____? How ____ fifty dollars _____?”
Huh? Fifty dollars? Is this guy…what’s the word HeTian used?…'Propositioning’ me? Does he think I’m a prostitute?!
“ ___! Stop _______ __ this chink! He doesn’t understand English!” Another white man stepped in, someone he recognized had been lead to talk shop upstairs, and spoke more to the asshole in front of him, but he stopped trying to get it.
Instead, Mo GuanShan switched into Chinese.
“You tryin’ to give me a fifty like it ain’t chump change, but you should know you British shitstains, you and your shit King wouldn’t be able to afford this Asian ass.”
That stopped the white men in their tracks, confusion etched all over their faces, but a cocky grin crossed over his own.
“Wha~t? You boys don’t understand Chinese? I guess I’m not the only one who can look stupid, ah? Here you are, in your fancy coats, with your fancy gloves, and your fancy shoes… Too stupid to know the language of the establishment you’ve walked your money into.”
The men before him suddenly grew angry. Did they understand him?
No… They just hated to hear and not understand a language that wasn’t English.
One of them grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him forward, but before he could give a threat he wouldn’t even understand anyway, he waited for the parting of his lips…and made sure what he spat aimed right between them.
The man gagged and his companion looked on in horror, but all Mo could do was laugh.
“Gentlemen! You look ____! _____ me __ ____slate.”
He looked to his right.
Of course it had to be fuckin’ HeTian walking up to the bar, giving a rapidly spun slew of words in perfect English he couldn’t hope to under- wait, did he say the word ‘translate’ earlier?? No -
Within moments, pairs of angry blue eyes set on him.
Well, looks like they understood what he’d said now…
But before the situation could escalate and they all started boffing* each other, Kwon, one of the brunos* standing at the door of the joint, took both the men by their shoulders.
“I think it’s time for you both to leave,” HeTian said in Chinese before switching back to English… But he couldn’t understand a lick of it.
Kwon navigated them to the door as HeTian walked ahead with the occasional twirl of his cane.
“GuanShan, did you understand what HeTian-Xiānsheng said?” It was Au Chi-Kung, bent over from trying to contain his laughter. Mo forgot he had gone to the back room to check on their stock on ice. They were similar in age, Chi-Kung being just a couple years older, so he was closer to him than other Triad members.
“What’d he say?”
The act ended, the patrons applauded the ones on stage, and he had to get closer and have the other boy whisper in his ear:
“He said, ‘Everything in this club is mine. You either buy the merchandise I tell you to buy, or you get the fuck out.’”
“What’d ya mean by that? What Chi- I mean, what Au said?”*
Was he…a slave? That he was “merchandise” that could be sold to a white man? If HeTian wanted it? It had bothered him since.
A tense silence proliferated between them and enveloped the office.
HeTian still had his hands folded together, and looked over Mo, but besides that, remained unmoving as if he hadn’t heard what Mo had said.
He didn’t seem he would ever say anything.
But Mo stubbornly didn’t seem like he would be leaving anytime soon.
“Are you mine?”
“There’s your answer.”
…..Well what did that mean!?
Mo’s mind sputtered, somewhere between confusion and irritation by the way HeTian unsatisfyingly answers anything. What did he mean? Did Mo have a choice in anything? Just saying he wasn’t gonna do something couldn’t have been enough, right??
Not sure where to go from there and still struggling for words, HeTian stood up from the desk and spoke before Mo could.
“You’ll be needing more English lessons, I can tell you that. You seem to be able to handle yourself with just your words as long as you can speak the same language,” HeTian briefly opened desk drawers just to close them, “Now, where did I leave that book?”
He bent down to get a look in a bottom drawer, but Mo still overheard the low mutterings to himself. “What kind of mook spits in someone’s mouth…?”
Under his own breath, Mo grumbled back, “The same kinda mook who hires a person who spits in people’s mouths.”
HeTian’s head lifted behind the desk, and Mo saw the slow pull of his lips into a genuine smile.
He couldn’t help but reciprocate.
*burn up - seething, really angry
*booger - brat
*漂亮 piàoliang (peeyow leeyang) = pretty. It’s a pretty well known English word and one of the first rods you learn in Chinese, so I figured the same was opposite.
*canary - a singer
*boffing - to hit someone
*brunos - hired gunmen or other tough guys
*It’s a more reserved time and I figured that people usually referred to others by their last name, and it was impolite to the refer to someone by their first name if they’re your superior.
*mook - a stupid or incompetent person
I’m encountering a problem here that I hope… I’ve reasoned out so no one who’s native Chinese can point out discrepancies. HeTian, Mo, and Meng, are Mandarin names, while Triads mainly originated in Hong Kong. I justify this because different triads are based in different areas, and can contain Mandarin factions in Mainland China and actually kinda needed them for the opium transportations. I believe Mosspaca is based in a mandarin speaking city, so I kept the names the way they were, but will add more Cantonese names as we go on. The PROBLEM lies with whether it would have been better to have made them from the Tong, which is more Mainland China based, instead of Triad, but I think the Triad is more well known. So if HeTian was a successful Chinese gangbanger in NYC, it’d make more sense of him being Triad. But I need to figure out if the Tong and Triad are mutuals or rivals…
**Busy dads attempting to find time to catch up in their favorite spot outside of the bedroom Antonio likely works from home and takes care of their three children and two dogs. Ariel (5) and Alejandro(6) likely leave toys and stickers and other things around the house. While their youngest son Lorenzo (13 mo.) barely is mobile. But gets a kick out of running over Toni with his walker. **
(I’ll likely color and scan this at some point until then have fun with this)
I used my scooter in my hometown the other day because I had to go for my vocational rehab appointment. I was nervous but I did it!! I was even able to drive a little because I didn’t have to walk. Use your mobility aids kids, the world is a big place and the ableist assholes can get bent.
DAY6 : change (Late Submission) Summery: After his fight with Rin, Haru stayed late thinking about a lot of stuff, though waking up to find himself in a strange room, in a strange yet familiar body was not how Haru expected his day to begin.
Rating: General audience, though it will go up in later chapters
Y'all think I’m so funny when I’m on your side being “mean” to Sam stans, but then can’t take the heat when I disagree with you? Embarrassing. Don’t you know the rule about not dishing what you can’t take? 🙄
Alam mo `yong panahon na tayo pa, sobrang saya ko… `yon pakiramdam na tila nasa ulap ako kahit na malayo tayo sa isa’t isa basta’t nandiyan ka lang at laging ka-chat ko. Bumuo ako ng pangarap, ganoon ka rin na kahit simpleng buhay lang basta walang iwanan at magtutulungan tayo. Lagi tayong nagpapalitan ng salitang ‘mahal na mahal kita’ kasi `yon ang nararamdaman natin sa isa’t isa.
Ang hirap ng sitwasyon natin dahil long distance relationship ang mayroon tayo pero nakaya natin at nakaabot tayo ng mahigit walong buwan. Alam mo `yon pakiramdam na gustong-gusto na kitang makita sa personal kasi hanggang sa social net lang tayo nagkakilala at wala pa sa personal, `yong sabik na sabik akong makita ka… mahaplos ang mga pisngi mo, matitigan ka ng malapitan at hindi sa video call lang kita nakikita o sa mga larawan mo.
Ang hirap ipaliwanag ang nararamdaman ko, nandiyan `yon takot na baka may makilala kang iba kaya nga minsan pinupuna kita kapag may napapansin akong ka-chat mo lalo na’t binibigyan mo pa ng mobile number mo… pero para sa’yo pala, pananakal na `yon. Pinapangalagahan ko lang ang relasyon natin at iniingatan lang kita na ‘wag mapukaw sa iba ang pansin mo.
Lahat ng effort ko, hindi `yon panunumbat bagkus… nais ko lang madama mo o maisip mo na sana pangalagahan mo rin ako. Oo, dama ko naman na mahal mo ako pero `yong pakiramdam na gusto kita ipagdamot, ipagdamot ang atensyon na nabibigay mo sa iba at gusto ko sa akin lang dahil ayaw kong mawala ka… lalong ayaw kong masira ang mga plano natin sa buhay kapag makauwi na ako.
Pero sa isang iglap lang pala… naglaho ang lahat. Binalewala mo lahat ng pagtitiis natin sa isa’t isa kasi nga magkalayo tayo. Binalewala mo lahat ng mga nagawa ko para sa’yo at `yong mga simpleng effort mo sa FB wall mo na sinasabi mong mahal na mahal mo ako.
Oo, kasalanan ko dahil bumitaw ako… bumitaw ako kasi wala na akong laban. Ako nasa malayo at alam kong kaya mong baliwalain ang lahat at ang mahigit walong buwan na long distance relationship na mayroon tayo. Siya nasa paligid mo lang na kahit ilang weeks pa lang kayo ay napamahal na siya sa’yo. Bumitaw ako kahit na alam kong sobrang sakit para sa akin na hanggang ngayon ay iniiyakan ko pa rin.
Ang pagmamahal ko sa’yo ni katiting… walang nagbago. Ganoon pa rin, mahal na mahal pa rin kita. Oo, nagalit ako dahil sa mga naririnig kong paninira. Hack ko mga account mo, sinira ko ang yoVille games mo… pero naisip mo ba ang paninira mo sa akin? Pagmamahal binigay ko sa’yo, pero pasakit ang kapalit. Kalayaan mo, kaya ako bumitaw kahit na ayaw mo rin akong bitawan, pero ayaw mo rin siya bitawan… ayaw kong malito ka pa kaya nagpaubaya na ako lalo na’t magkalapit lang kayo.
Pero ngayon, napaisip ako… mahal mo ba talaga ako, minahal mo ba talaga ako? Kasi kung totoo lahat ng mga sinasabi mo noon sa akin, sana kahit na wala na tayo… `yon respeto man lang at kunting pagpapahalaga sa nakaraan natin, sana nandiyan pa rin at huwag puro paninira. Kung nakapagsalita man ako o nanumbat dahil na rin sa kagagawan mo.
Hindi mo lang alam kung gaano ako nahihirapan, gaano ko iniiyakan na wala na tayo lalo na may naririnig akong paninira mo sa akin. Gustuhin ko man magalit, nangingibabaw pa rin ang pagmamahal ko sa’yo at nanatili na lamang sa imahinasyon ko na kahit doon man lang madudugtungan ang relasyon mayroon tayo noon. At sana maaalala mo man lang kahit na ang huling message mo sa akin.
Kahit masakit, hinahangad ko pa rin ang kaligayahan mo sa piling niya. Kung ano man ang mga lagi kong pinapaalala noon sa iyo na alagaan mo sarili mo at mag-iingat lagi ay `yon pa rin ang nais kong gawin mo. Mahal na mahal po kita.
Dominic shook his head. “I’ve never heard of anyone breaking the vow Aria; you wouldn’t be the first.” Orginally Dominic hadn’t planned on going to her part of the initation, but he had to ask, “would you rather me than Harmony?” It was a bit confusing to him, why all of this had been let go on beneath him. “Stay in my dorm tonight, if you want. Has Josiah put the extra wards about around your dorm yet?”
Aria wasn’t sure how to respond. “I don’t know, Dominic. I feel horrible asking that of anyone. I’d pledge my life to them if I need to, but using someone else as collateral…” she leaned back. She had been avoiding thinking about this too much. If she let herself think about it, she was going to break. She closed her eyes, concentrating on breathing.