#WE SAIL THIS SHIP TO THE STARS!

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YoI be like

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I STG he's fucking gorgeous.

I'd wait for him too.

[fangirl-paba]

If this doesn’t say it’s the end, I don’t know what will.

It’s sad & heartbreaking. The fact that they are still dragging us without letting us know the truth is ridiculous.

Anyway, if this is the end…

Thank you #911LoneStar and 126 fam!

You are the best onscreen firehouse. The best fire family.

Also, I don’t think as fans we will ever stop loving a show or its characters just because it ends. So here’s to watching and re watching all the episodes again and again. Here’s to creating artwork, fan videos and endless fan fictions.

And as Rafa said, “May this ship (Tarlos) never find mainland” and we will make sure it keeps on sailing. Here’s to the best onscreen couple. The best found family. I love them all so so much. ❤️

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So, I was sitting here thinking about Victor and Yuuri's wedding, as you do, when it occurred to me. That damned stripper pole is gonna make an appearance. I know it is. I see it. In my mind. Dose Chris carry that thing around like he's a secret BO staff fighter and he will dance off to save the world? This boy is a bard. He's a sexy dance bard. Bet he can stomp in 6 inch heals.

Anyway, that's not the point.

The point is, Otabek will not be caught dead doing that. 1: flexibility is not his strong suit and he knows it. Let others have their fun He's just be in the background contemplating the physics of it. 2: That is something he will *never* be suckered into because he knows they take photos. Nope. Big Nope.

But what he will do, as requested, is DJ the dance floor for the after party. Which means Yuri will not get to dance with him. Which is sad. EXCEPT. My head did a thing.

See, Otabek would totally be that one completely responsible, fire putting out, fixes stuff by walking thrugh a room and just correcting it person every wedding has. Even if all he does is direct the right person where they need to go so they can put out said fire. Takes a team, but the observant notice where they need to be. (I have been to so many weddings and I am telling you there is always ONE person who makes it all better by existing and OnE pErSoN who fucks it by by breathing.)

And like, I got so many head cannons about this. See, he wears a cravat, proper, for his competitions. Guess who's being tasked (along with Chris) to deal with people who cannot tie ties. Basic will not do. We're talking Fancy Tied Ties. FANCY. Yes, both Chris and Otabek can do these to perfection.

Guess who has to stop Yuri from climbing a wall when he's stressed because Yuuri is stressed and that makes Victor want to go comfort him, but he can't because he has to get ready for the wedding himself, and Yuri is supposed to stop Victor but Victor listens to no man save Yuuri and that's a mess he's tried to explain but no one seems to get but Otabek.

Guess who has to braid Yuri's hair to calm him down. Then has to tell Yuuri's mom - who is doing something else important at the time - what's up so it can be dealt with. Then has to deal with helping Yuri find where he threw his shoes in a rage.

Guess who has to go pick up the classic car they left to get detailed the day before instead of three days prior like he suggested and it may not be here on time because the delivery driver for it can't get anyone to drive him back, so he has to go and get it to the sight on time for when they 'go away' on the honey moon drive which is actually just a drive around the island so the pack of feral ice skaters can reset the scene for the after party. This doubles as having to pick up the wedding cake, and triples as getting Yuri out of there for a little bit so he can chill under the guise of holding the cake steady so it wont be ruined.

Guess who holds the ladders when they hang up flower decor because someone forgot they cannot en pointe to breach that last three inch gap between them and the hook for the flower arrangement. Seriously, you're gonna hurt yourself.

Guess who just sort of lugs boxes where they need to go with out a problem, and in general dose the dirty work quietly with everyone else, letting them set up - the fun part - while he considers this a light cardio day. Still shows up fresh and looking good, because of course he does.

And then he DJs and dose killer because you know he will, and everyone's having fun. All worth it.

But Yuri doesn't get to dance with him, and that's bothering Yuri, so Yuri hangs out with Otabek as he cleans up his set. Everyone else has decided to tear things down the next day. Not him. This shits expensive and he's not going to risk it.

And because Yuri pouts about it, Otabek sighs, grabs his hand, and with no one around just twirls Yuri's ballet doing ass about that floor in ways he's never danced before. Because while Otabek is not cut out for ballet, he dose dance. Far more varieties than Yuri. Lifts, spins, dips, twists. It's fast, and energetic, stuff to make Rodgers and Hammerstein drool. Then he just leaves Yuri drop jawed as he just walks back to his kit and finishes packing it up.

Yuri jumps on his back complaining all the way back to the place they are staying as he clings there like a particularly angelic daemon of a backpack about how dare Otabek hold out on him like that, and dose he think he can translate that to ice so Yuri can use it to kick JJs ass because he has to kick JJs ass, and also because that was so cool.

Otabek just shoulders his kit and says, "Maybe," but smiles just that little bit, until the lights show they are in range of people, his mask slipping back in place as he takes a sleepy Yuri to his room, dropping off his kit, and going to sit outside in the cool island air as an exhausted blond falls asleep still clinging to his back until he slides off from tired.

Otabek catches him. He always will. After a bit he takes him inside, and the rest of the party goes on... oh look. Chris did get out the stripper pole. Shaking his head, he continues to take care of Yuri before he wakes up from the tantalizing sent of possible blackmail pictures in the making. Because he would.

A sleep derived Yuri is a grumpy Yuri, and a grumpy Yuri just wont do.

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Name your Faves.

tag yourself

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Elevator, heading out on the town after a competition. Yuri: *eyes Otabek's ensemble* Otabek: Something wrong? Yuri: *unzips the jacket* Otabek: ... Yuri: *pushes his back against Otabek's chest* Otabek: ??? Yuri: *shoved his hands down both sleeves as far as they will go* Otabek: ..? Elevator opens. Victor and Yuuri: ?!?!?! Yuri: *walks forward like nothing strange, firmly tucked into the jacket* Otabek: *is practically dragged along, but manages to keep his own feet* Victor and Yuuri: *enter said elevator* Yuuri: *pushes floor button* Elivator closes. Victor: He's literally leading that boy astray. Yuuri: Ummmhum. Victor: And he's letting him. Yuuri: Umhum. Victor: I SHOULD HAVE GOT PICTURES! Yuuri: ...sigh. *dorky smile*

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My thoughts on this awesome art.

JJ ( lesser noble's son/ mayor's kid or something like that) is just trying to help his friend (Otabek) but he has the worst understanding of boundaries, subtly, and gets caught up in the drama so fast it's tragic. Hilarious, but tragic.

Minami is an elf. Come on now. Look at him! He works with Christophe as an apprentice. Just is suddenly there with whatever is needed. Has a massive break thrugh to become an official court magician apprentice by learning that illusive spell at a crucial time.

Pitchit is all about that tea. Him and Chris have serious side eye when everyone else needs help because of their dramatic selves, but boy do they thrive on it. These two might secretly be the source of all the rumors and spontaneous dance numbers in town.

Christoph is the fairy godfather/court official magical person with all the gentle magic and blatant flamboyancy such a position requires. Somehow he's always there. You just don't notice until he makes himself known. It's creepy, until you realize it's actually to help and protect, and part of his magic. Also, half the time it's Pitchit eaves dropping and using clever mirror placement to get that pipping hot constant comet (tea).

You know that Georgi is so into singing his massive hit (backed up by JJ) that a 'captured' Otabek just unties himself and walks out with Yuri as the villains hold the long note before they even notice. They are well across the dangerous bridge before the song ends and JJ discovers they slipped out. Georgi has to double take, blinks and is secretly impressed and chagrined because damn it that was a GOOD SONG! He worked on that all week! Sends JJ to get them back for the plot to continue.

Yuri hates that everything causes spontaneous songs. Especially when his parents sing them because they are always sappy wake you up at dawn with thrown open windows and birds and suddenly he's dressed and on a horse and what the hell?! Why are they on the way to town? What even is life? Someone HELP! Gets chased because plot demands it, winds up in woods. Hears BEST music. Follows it.

Otabek lives in the woods in an oddly fantastical 'cabin', that would be a massive magical castle if he'd just flip the fuse box switch, but he wont because it causes questions and matinence issues, and he just cannot with these sudden laps of logic for fairy tale rules. Why it all so convoluted? You could just like, not? He's gonna get caught up in the plot and wonder what the heck happened. Otabek helps. Everyone. Because common sense is apparently his alone, WTF people? W. T. F. Finds Yuri trying to escape town folk trying to mob him. Helps. Tried to get him back home. Adventure and secret (is a high rank) noble reveal because Georgi is not as bad as he seems. He's like Christoph's counter part. They both mean well. It's just that one is goth af about it.

Victor and Yuuri are just trying to throw a frikin birthday party for their feral son. He's cursed, but like, in a good way. Some day his prince will come (wait until they meet the guy from the woods and start the betting pool on how long it takes for the curse to break because they are keeping him) and they have SO Many Songs About It. Ah, how will they ever lift this (dramatic, tragic, so exciting) curse? With SONG! Wait... where did Yuri go? LE DRAMA! *smooch smooch* Los DRAMATICA! *kissy kiss kiss kiss* OH How Will They Ever Make it to That Fateful Day?! *aggressive making out*

[spittingstar]

at least running is a good

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This is frameable.

Letters

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Head cannon nonsence:

Shit two dork assed teenagers did at the onsen because they are idiots who respect there elders/ actually like Yuuri's parents.

Cleaned the gutters: Otabek cleaned them, Yuri mostly took the bags of stuff to where they needed to go.

Fell asleep on the roof: Victor was getting to Yuri. Otabek wanted to read in peace. He went to the roof. Yuri followed. Sleep happened.

Almost fell off the roof: See previous entry and know that Yuri almost rolled off. Fortunately, Otabek has great reflexes to make up for his lesser dexterity.

Cleaned out the storage room: Everyone else kept getting caught up in sentimental memories. Yuri was for burning it all, so Otabek actually did the sorting. This was great fun. Turns out Yuuri has a lot of old clothes he saved, and they found his poster collection. Victor is delighted.

Change light bulbs: Yuri standing on Otabek's shoulders makes them about teen feet tall-ish. Mari walked along with them. Yuri pulled out old ones, handed it to Otabek, who handed it to Mari. Mari handed Otabek a new light bulb, who handed it to Yuri, who put it in and closed the fixture where ever needed. Otabek's shoulders hurt after the whole onsen was done but wont say a word. Just rolls them a few times.

Dust the high places: Same dynamic as above, only with a feather duster and cloth. Otabek's shoulders need a break, but it's good stamina and weight lifting training.

Clean and polish the Katsuki's car: This was mostly to impress on Yuri how much time vehicle maintenance takes, but they gave the boy a hose and someone to turn it on, and if that someone happens to be very hot dripping wet and about to get vengeance, well that's just a bonus. You know once water gets involved, Victor and Yuuri get in there too because fun times will be had by all.

Accidentally on purpose teach a bunch of seagulls how to terrorize rude tourists for french fries: Look, Otabek is deviously patient, and once Yuri finds that out he will find a way to turn those traits to evil. Like asking Otabek how to get vengeance on someone who was rude to Mrs. Katsuki. Yuri wont stand for it. French fry lured seagulls, Otabek says with a straight face, because of course he does. What's that? Well, you lure seagulls one french fry at a time to the aria where rude tourists usually gather so they are haggard by said avian for food, thus giving them a shuddering terror of the birds every time they have a meal outside. Parking lots near coastal towns will never be the same.

Get told not to lure seagulls with french fries: they are amassing an army and it's starting to scare people.

Climb a lamp post: This is mostly a dare. Until Yuri can't get down. Otabek helps him, but they never speak of how long it took for Yuri to get back to ground level again because he was afraid to let go of the pole until he knew Otabek would catch him. It becomes an inside joke. May or may not be why the Russian skate team keeps trying to get Otabek to catch them. (Only Yuri is allowed this privileged.)

Discover Otabek is an absolute heater when he's asleep: Storms knock power out. Generator needed for fridge and such. It gets cold. Only room with heat? Yuri and Otabek's. Why? Because Otabek fell asleep hours ago, and radiates that pleasant sleepy warm like he was a small fusion star. Woke up wondering why he is surrounded by people laying on him, and questioning if he's allowed to move to go do morning things. Manages to find a way. Thirty minutes latter everyone else wakes up because all that heat dissipated quickly. It's okay. Powers back on a few hours latter.

Figure out exactly how many M&Ms Yuri can fit in his mouth: 37. He drools after that.

Discover Otabek's reading glasses actually make him hotter and that's an absolute fucking sin: look, he's just trying to do his homework, okay? Collage credits don't amass themselves.

Find out Otabek is a math dork: He and Yuri are watching ice skating play backs with Mari. Otabek is writing out equations absently mindedly as they do. When asked: it's the equations of the skaters jumps and spins. He's working out how to improve them per individual skater. For funzies. Yuri is both impressed and disgusted. No one should like math this much. And if they do, they shouldn't help the enemy. Otabek tells Yuri how to get higher on his quad and suddenly this is the best thing ever. Victor hears. Yuuri is impressed. Otabek winds up on the roof again, trying to escape. No, he is not going to school for maths.

Discover Yuri is actually a pretty good cook. Once he gets over the disgust of spots on vegetables, and figures out how to use a knife (thanks for that Mr. Katsuki, JJ is DOOMED), he's very methodical (perfectionist) so while it takes him longer, it turns out right most times.

Scare the living shit out of people: It's the three am five miles out, five miles back jog Otabek dose every day he can. Yuuri finds out and joins him. Makes breakfast taste better, they say. Yuri thinks they are nuts. Not for the running. For three am.

I got more, but honestly, I have so So SO much for these ice babies.

[hopeworth]

homesick…..

[peachesofteal]

through me 🥹🥹🥹 its such a palette cleanser. always so sweet and endearing, the power of ur anthologies... i hope theyre as fun to write as they are to read!!!

if ur taking requests 👀 can we see the two of them going through name lists? would they keep to the stars theme? what would their backups be, would they find one really good GN name or different options if its a boy or a girl? middle names? nickname they call the baby before they decide on the real name? orions such a good name thats a high bar to match lmao

Through Me (The Flood) - Simon Riley/female reader

"I think we should keep the constellation theme." You bury your face in his chest as he cups the back of your head. When your fingers fist in his shirt and you gulp, he moves down your spine, kneading and stroking, trying to soothe the nausea.

"Do you need to get up?"

"No, I"m-" You shudder, and then jerk upright, hand over your mouth.

Two seconds later, you're running for the bathroom.

It's been like this for two weeks. You're sick in the afternoons, at night. You manage to keep down soup, and crackers, and he keeps water bottles full of electrolytes throughout the house.

He's helpless. Useless to you. Only able to stand by and give you comfort as you toss the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl.

He didn't handle your last doctor's appointment particularly well. You were fairly calm and collected, while he was a mess, demanding treatments and options for something that they wouldn't be able to cure. Morning sickness is normal, even if it comes during the day or at night, the doctor told him. There's no need to worry unless it gets considerably worse. 

You cough, and he finds the handle to flush. "I'm sorry sweetheart." He puts the cool washcloth on your neck, urging you to lean back against him. Your lashes are wet, whites of your eyes turned red, and guilt burrows in the back of his mind. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you're peering up at him, and he uses the cloth to wipe your lips, the corner of your mouth as you sag against his chest. "It was the same with Ry."

"When will it stop?"

"Soon. Last time it was around twenty weeks, so shouldn't be too much longer." You press closer and he holds you tight, circling his thumb in your belly, stroking up and down as you take deep, long breaths.

"C'mon. Let's get back in bed."

"What about Pyxis?"

"Tell me about it." This never gets old. He could lay here and hold you for the rest of his life, listening to you tell him all about the stars, the constellations, where they are, how far away, why they're named.

"It's named after a compass, like the ones ship captains use. We could call them Pixie with a y for short." You frown. "I guess Pyxie isn't really gender neutral. Pyx, maybe?" He hums.

"I'm not sure either of those fall in the neutral category." You're both committed to the surprise. Maybe life's biggest, if he's honest, waiting to find out if the baby is a boy or girl, and because of it, the two of you decided to focus on gender neutral names. It's made the list shorter, but he's relishing every moment. He didn't get this last time, didn't get to hold you as you rattled off a million ideas. Didn't get to hear you excited you were when you finally decided on Orion.

He's soaking it up now.

"Aries?" He shakes his head.

"Too masculine."

"Corvus? Corvus for a boy, and then Core as a nickname for a girl?"

"He'd be cool, she'd get teased without mercy." You wince.

"I like Lyra, the harp, but it's too feminine. What about Vela?"

"What is it?"

"It's a constellation that's like part of big constellation, I think technically. It's latin, for sails of a ship."

"The A on the end always fucks with me," he murmurs, lips on your forehead, "it doesn't sound neutral."

"I still don't hate Pyxis." you chirp, wrapping around him. His hands slide to your belly and stay there.

"Let's think about it." He tugs your knee up to his thigh, turning you on your side to help you get comfortable, and you sigh.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

In the dark, not even an hour later, your voice rasps in a whisper against his ear. "What about Phoenix." It's not a question, and he pauses. "It's named after the myth. We could call them Nix for short. It works whichever way you want." Phoenix.  

It's more than a constellation. It's rebirth. New beginnings. Transformation. Everything you've given him, everything the two of you have built together.

"It's perfect."

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I see someone else has the DVD/Blue Rays.

★ Welcome to the Madness ★

[girlrotterr]

Milk Of The Siren.

captain!abby x siren!reader Summary: Captain Anderson is among the most skilled, effortlessly navigating countless ships. Yet, even the finest sailors aren't immune to the lure of sirens' hunger. a/n: new series for you angels!!! super excited for this one!! (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠) ⇢ part two𓈒ㅤׂ 𓇼

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ˳༄꠶ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

A human laid before you, unconscious.

Her milky skin glimmered under the soft moonlight, her body reflecting the silvery glow. She was drenched, her clothes soaked through with seawater. Sand was plastered around her face, sticking to her skin like a constellation of freckles.

what a disturbance..

It was already past midnight, the only illumination coming from the moon and stars above. Their light dancing on the surface of the water, and the gentle glow of jellyfish drifted the sea. You had sought this place for solitude, yearning for some time alone. The cave lagoon was your sanctuary, a place where silence was a constant companion and disturbance was a foreign concept.

But now, that tranquility was shattered. The human's presence was an intrusion into your sacred space. This lagoon, with its crystal-clear waters and echoing silence, had always promised peace. 

You emerged from the water, your movements graceful and deliberate. Your sleek, iridescent tail shimmered, casting ethereal patterns on the cave walls as it parted the waves. Each movement sent ripples across the surface, water cascading down your body. Your hair, the color of the midnight sea, clung to your back,  your eyes. deep and mesmerizing, locked onto the human with irritation. 

The soft sound of waves lapped against the shore, the only noise in the otherwise still night. You hovered over her, studying her face. She looked peaceful, almost serene, despite the obvious turmoil that had brought her here. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, and you could see the faint pulse at her neck, a sign of life amidst the stillness.

Hovering down, you brushed a strand of wet hair from her face, feeling the softness of her skin. She was fragile, a stark contrast to the strength you felt coursing through your own body. This human had no place here, in your sanctuary, disturbing the delicate balance of your world. But there was something about her, something that stirred a feeling you couldn't quite name.

You took a deep breath, inhaling the salty sea air, and let it out slowly. 

───────

"Captain Anderson," Isaac said, shaking Abby's hand in a formal greeting.

Abby returned the handshake firmly, "Isaac," she replied with a nod, taking a seat opposite him. "What brings you to seek me?"

Isaac smiled, a hint of admiration in his eyes as he leaned forward. "You've earned quite the reputation, Captain. Your skill and courage on the seas are well known,." He paused, leaning back in his chair. "I have a proposition for you. We have a cargo that needs to be sailed out to Europe, and I can think of no one better suited for the job than you."

Abby's expression remained composed, though inwardly, she felt a flicker of intrigue. Sailing across the Atlantic was no small effort, even for someone as experienced as herself. "Europe, you say?" she mused, tapping her fingers thoughtfully against the arm of her chair. "That's quite a journey..."

Isaac nodded. "Indeed, it is. But I have every confidence in your abilities. The cargo is valuable, and I trust only the best to ensure its safe passage."

Abby inclined her head, acknowledging the compliment. She had earned her title through years of hard work and determination, rising through the ranks from a young deckhand to a respected captain known for her sharp instinct. Her ship, The Siren's Call, was renowned not only for its speed but also for the loyalty of its crew.

"As always, Isaac, I'm honored by your trust," Abby replied finally, her tone reflective of the weight of the responsibility he was offering. "When do we sail?"

Isaac smiled, relieved by her acceptance. "The Siren's Call leaves at dawn. I'll have the crew and provisions ready."

───────

Abby stepped aboard The Siren's Call at the break of dawn, greeted by the familiar salty breeze. The crew bustled about, preparing the ship for departure.

As Abby made her way to her quarters to stow her belongings, she felt a hand clap down on her shoulder. Turning, she found herself face-to-face with Ellie Williams, a fellow hunter and friend from her days ashore in jackson. Ellie's auburn hair was tied back, her piercing green eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Well, well, if it isn't Captain Anderson herself," Ellie teased, flashing a mischievous grin. "Off on another grand adventure, are we?"

Abby chuckled, giving Ellie a playful shove. "Always."

Ellie nodded knowingly. "Oh, I know all too well. Heard you're sailing for Europe this time. Quiteee the journey"

Abby nodded, "It'll be a challenge, no doubt. But Isaac trusts me to get the job done."

Ellie raised an eyebrow. "Isaac, huh? That old son of a bitch is at it again!" She leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Any chance you'll find a European lady out there?"

Abby rolled her eyes with a smile. "Not likely.”

Ellie laughed, her laughter echoing through the corridor. "Well, you let me know if you change your mind. I've got some contacts who could arrange a meeting."

“I'll keep that in mind.” Abby shook her head,  "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a ship to prepare."

Ellie grinned, stepping back to let Abby pass. "Don't forget to send me a postcard!"

With a wave, Abby continued on her way, her mind already shifting back to the tasks at hand. She settled into her role aboard the Siren's Call, overseeing final preparations and ensuring everything was in order, she couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. 

The sea was waiting. 

───────

As the Siren's Call cut through the Atlantic waves, Abby kept a vigilant watch, her eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of danger. The journey had been smooth thus far, the ship sailing true under her expert command. But just as the sun began its descent toward the horizon, a haunting melody began to drift through the air.

At first, Abby dismissed it as a trick of the wind, but soon, the melody grew stronger, more intoxicating. It was a song unlike any she had heard before — ethereal and enchanting, weaving through the air like a delicate thread. A chill ran down her spine as she realized what it was: 

The song of sirens.

Glancing around, Abby saw her crew entranced by the music, their eyes glazed over, their movements sluggish as they were drawn toward the source of the melody. Panic surged within her as she fought against the mesmerizing tune, her hands tightening on the wheel to keep the ship on course.

"Keep steady! Fight it!" Abby shouted, her voice cutting through the enchantment like a knife. But the sirens' song was relentless, its allure growing stronger with each passing moment. The Siren's Call began to veer off course, its sails catching the wind erratically.

The ship was now beyond her control, rushing dangerously through the waves. The laughter of the sirens echoed hauntingly in the air, mocking their victory. 

“Captain, we're losing control! The ship won't respond!"

"Damn it!"  Abby gritted her teeth, her mind racing for a solution. 

She knew the tales of the sirens, their irresistible songs luring sailors to their doom upon jagged rocks. Abby steadied herself against the wheel, trying desperately to steer away.

But it was to no avail. 

The ship's structure collided with rocks, splintering wood and tearing sails. The world began to whirl as Abby was thrown overboard, the icy waters enveloping her in a shock of cold. Debris and bodies floated around her, the cries of her crewmates drowned out by the relentless roar of the sea. With a desperate stroke, she struggled toward the surface, fighting against the pull of the sinking ship.

Moments later, Abby's head broke through the surface, gasping for air as she scanned the scene…

The Siren's Call was rapidly disappearing beneath the waves, its masts jutting awkwardly into the sky before vanishing into the depths. The sirens' laughter echoed in the distance, a cruel reminder of their deadly allure.

“no...” Abby weakly whispered as darkness crept on the edges of her vision.

───────

“Ngh..” Abby jolted slightly awake, her eyes fluttering open as she groaned softly.

You instinctively backed away, giving her space to gather herself. She looked around, disoriented and clearly in pain, her body stiff and bruised. Confusion clouded her expression, and her gaze struggled to focus on you through eyes still adjusting to the dim light.

You remained cautious, observing her cautiously as she blinked. 

"What has brought you here?" you asked, your voice tinged with a hint of anger. The disruption she had caused to your sanctuary was annoying enough. 

Abby didn't respond immediately, her eyes still trying to focus on you. She seemed caught between fear and fascination, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she struggled to find her voice. The bruises on her skin stood out starkly in the moonlight. 

"There is no place for you here, human," you snapped, your tone firm. 

The rules of your world were clear — humans were outsiders, their presence a disruption to the delicate balance of your existence beneath the waves. 

"You're... one of them," she whispered weakly, pointing a trembling finger in your direction. Her voice trembled, her gaze fixed on you.

Yes, you were one of the creatures of the deep, Your kind had legends woven around them—stories of enchantment and danger that humans whispered. For centuries, your kind had existed in harmony with the sea, guardians of its secrets and mysteries.

But Abby's presence had disrupted that harmony.

A debate stirred within you, a conflict between duty and desire. On one hand, your instincts urged you to follow the rules of your existence—to remain hidden, to protect your kind from the intrusions of humans. But on the other hand, there was a temptation—an urge that whispered of a different kind of need.

Abby's voice broke through your thoughts, her plea tinged with desperation. I don’t mean to intrude.."

Her words hesitated, exhaustion and pain in every breath. You could sense her vulnerability, her body moving with fatigue as she struggled to maintain her composure. The moonlight bathed her in a soft glow, casting a shadow that danced across her features.

In that moment, you saw her not just as an intruder, but as a fragile soul in unfamiliar waters, seeking refuge from the storms. A flicker of empathy stirred within you, a longing to ease her suffering and offer her safeness Yet, there were potential consequences—disrupting the balance that kept both your worlds apart.

With a conflicted sigh, you made your decision. "I will return," you said.

Abby's eyes widened slightly, a mixture of hope and fear flickering across her face. You could see the relief in her eyes, but you knew your reasons for helping her were far from kindness. If she recovered, she would leave your lagoon, restoring the peace and solitude you so cherished.

You slipped back into the water with effortless grace, your body merging seamlessly with the liquid embrace of the lagoon. The cool water flowed around you as you swam deeper, your mind racing with thoughts of what resources you could gather to help. Food, water, perhaps some herbs to tend to her wounds—all necessary for her recovery.

The underwater world welcomed you, its familiar sights and sounds a comforting balm to your conflicted heart. Radiant creatures lit your way, their soft glow illuminating the path through the darkened depths. You swam swiftly, your movements a blur of silver and blue as you navigated the corridors of your aquatic home.

First, you headed to a nearby kelp forest, where you knew you could find nutrient-rich seaweed. With practiced skill, you harvested a generous bundle, tying it together with a strand of your own hair. Next, you sought out a freshwater spring that bubbled up through the ocean floor, filling a small, hollowed-out shell with the precious liquid.

Eventually, you made your way to a hidden grove where medicinal sea herbs grew in abundance. You carefully selected a variety of leaves and stems, each one known for its healing properties. The weight of your decision still hung heavy on your heart, but the act of gathering these resources gave you a sense of purpose, a way to channel your inner confusion into something useful.

With your resources secured, you turned and began the journey back to the cave. The moonlight still shimmered on the water's surface as you emerged, carrying the gathered resources in your arms. Abby was where you had left her, her eyes closed, her breathing slow and steady. She looked even more fragile than before, a difference to the strength you could sense within her.

You approached quietly, setting the bundle of seaweed and herbs beside her.

"I have returned," you said, your voice a whisper. Abby's eyes fluttered open, and she looked at you with a mixture of gratitude and lingering fear.

Gently, you handed her the shell filled with fresh water. "Drink," you said, guiding her hands to the makeshift vessel. Abby complied, sipping the cool water with obvious relief. You could see the color returning to her cheeks, a sign that she was beginning to regain some of her strength.

You showed her the seaweed. "Eat." you instructed, tearing off a small piece and offering it to her. "It will help you recover." Abby hesitated for a moment, then took the seaweed and began to chew, her expression softening as the nourishment began to take effect.

You turned your attention to her injuries. You crushed the medicinal herbs between your fingers, releasing their healing juices, and gently applied them to her cuts and bruises. Abby winced at first, then relaxed as the soothing properties of the herbs took hold.

You backed away, observing her. Abby's eyes met yours, and for the first time, there was a spark of trust in their depths.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the gentle lapping of the waves.

You stared at her for a moment, torn between your desire for solitude and a new connection that could bloom. Her presence was a disturbance, yes, but also a reminder of the world beyond the sea, a world you had long ago distanced yourself from.

You nodded, “The sea will watch over you."

Abby finally began to take in her surroundings. The beauty of the cave lagoon struck her with a sense of awe. Moonlight filtered through the entrance, casting a silver glow over the water. The walls of the cave were adorned with vibrant corals and sea plants, creating an otherworldly atmosphere that felt both magical and serene.

Her gaze shifted to you, the mythical being who had both frightened and saved her. You were a creature of ethereal beauty, your scales glistening in the dim light, your movements graceful and fluid. There was an undeniable allure to you, a magnetism that drew her in despite the fear that lingered in her heart.

But with that awe came a profound conflict. The sirens, your kind, were responsible for the tragedy that had striked her crew. Abby’s thoughts turned dark as she remembered the screams, the chaos, and the horror. Her shipmates, her friends, had been lured to their deaths by the enchanting songs of the sirens, and now here she was, under the care of one of those very beings.

How could she feel anything but hatred for the creatures responsible for so much pain? And yet, as she watched you move with such grace, as she felt the gentleness in your touch, she couldn’t deny the complexity of her feelings.

You noticed her conflicted expression, the way her eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place. 

“You helped me...” Abby spoke, her voice tinged with suspicion and curiosity. “Your kind... they killed my crew. Why didn’t you just leave me to die?”

You hesitated,  “I seek solitude,” you replied, “Your presence here disrupts that. If you heal, you will leave, and I will have my peace again.”

Abby’s eyes narrowed slightly, but there was a hint of understanding in her gaze. “It’s for your own sake.” she murmured, more to herself than to you. “Well, if that's the case, thenn you will have to help me leave." 

"I have helped you enough," you replied, your voice tinged with reluctance.

Abby's expression hardened "I can't simply swim to land," she insisted, her voice growing firmer. "I need to construct a boat—a small one, quick to build yet sturdy enough to carry me and the supplies I'll need until I reach safety."

You grumbled to yourself, the request catching you off guard. Helping Abby construct a boat meant prolonging her stay—something you had hoped to avoid. 

Reluctantly, you nodded. "Very well," you conceded, your voice resigned. "I will gather what you need."

A faint smile tugged at Abby's lips, teasing and amused. "Good," she replied, her voice teasingly soft. "I suppose I should rest now. It'll make you grumble less."

Perhaps you should’ve eaten her.

[capsensislagamoprh]

Victor Nikiforov takes the ice. His music is named, something classical and full of power. His theme: searching.

The music swells as the flute makes a melancholy sound. An oboe adds undertones of distance, whispering against the shrill cry of the high notes. Invocation of a tree-less landscape, open to the biting winds. His hands twist in elegant motions, arms rising as his back arches. With out seeming to move his feet he begins to slide back, ice a silken mirror beneath his blades.

A low drum picks up a hollow beat, pounding its rhythm into the chest, a second heart beat trying to over take the listener's own. His side arch, his back rolls, his blades speeding along the ice as he keeps a slow look of constant agony in his eyes, his limbs seeming to call out for any answer they can get. His feet flip one over the other as he twizzles himself into a camel spin, the music picking up like a blowing tumble weed. Chimes and xylophone add a drip-drip-drip of cold ice as it hits the winter sun. A listener could almost feel the bitter winter playing make believe with the brilliant sun.

Foot change into a sit spin that lifts him into rapid step, his stretch calling out for desperate spaces to give up secrets, to cry there hiding places, to help him find. The music responds with anger, the drums backed by a responsive violin. Go! We Tell You Nothing! it seems to say, as he turns himself into a double, a triple, a double, trying to jump the obstacles the music puts in his way. These are hills, holes, mythical things, and he is the Ice King. He will over come them all.

The music thinks, how to defeat him. There is a mystical sound, perhaps the swell of winds playing secrets with the strings. A chime seems to count the hours as he steps his way thrugh the rink, turning in brackets and counters, rocketing as he uses one foot or the other, his leg high and straight, his arms longing to reach further than his form allows. His face is forlorn, his eyes full of hope. A loop, a twist, and then he jumps. Quad Sal, a slide spin, a triple toe, a leap that defies the length of his legs, and then a double to give him the lift into a flying spin as he keeps his body moving with that desperation, love, promise of hearth and home as he searches for what he's lost, what the ice cannot find.

The music refuses to give. It calls upon something sinister, the oboe dropping register, the violin wobbling vibrato. A cello adds shadows to the darkness, warning him to keep away. There is a threat there. It evokes retribution. His hands are thrown back, his arms bending behind his head as if struck a dangerous blow. He steps his twizzles into a sit, drives it up into a Biellmann, and drops into a scratch. The music stops just as suddenly, echoing a lone flute note, crying like a distant bird trying to summon spring in a barren land.

The audience is shook, their surprise clear. A junior competitor worthy of there attention. They cheer. It is evoking. It is powerful. He takes his bows, skates to the kiss and cry, then sits, waiting for his score. When he sees it, his eye grow large. His smile beams. He is the Ice King. They are pleased. For a moment he can see the beginnings of that rainbow glow as glamour collects. They keep throwing flowers and other things. Somehow he knows, tonight he will stop starving.

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19, part 20, part 21, part 22, part 23, part 24, part 25

[nina-ya]

Ways That Law Wordlessly Says "I Love You"

Luffy Zoro Sanji Law Kid Shanks Pairing: Law x reader CW: Mentions of blood. Fluff overall. WC: 1.2k

Leaning against the railings of the Polar Tang, the moon casting its gentle glow on the calm waters, you found comfort in the rare moment of the submarine surfaced on the open sea. Law joined you, and a comfortable silence settled between you, the only background noise being the ship's engines and  the crash of waves.

“You know,” he starts, his fingers idly tracing the railings, “I’ve heard of these groups of islands on the Red Line, uninhabited and unexplored,” his fingers seem to trace circles into the railing, mimicking the islands as he continues, “I can see the entire crew living on one of those islands, just all of us together.” His fingers halt in their place, and his gaze shifts to you, “... and I see you there. I see you and me together, just living without a care in the world.” The atmosphere fills slightly with a tension and you sense a rare vulnerability in Law's demeanor.

“There's something about the uncharted,” he muses, his gaze fixing onto the stars above. “It’s just so pure and untouched. Not ruined by horrible people, and we would be the ones to shape its story.”

As he speaks, Law's demeanor softens, revealing a side of him rarely seen. His eyes hold a glimmer of anticipation, and the corners of his lips betray a subtle smile.

"I've seen enough chaos and battles," he admits. "What I want is to discover a future with someone I care about."

In the quiet between words, Law’s hand reaches for yours, fingers intertwining. "I can picture it," he confesses, "a life where you and I are free from the constraints of the world. One where we can live freely." 

The conversation drifts into the early hours of the morning, the shared hopes and dreams only giving way to the certainty of being together forever. You know Law loves you when he talks about a future with you in it. 

- - - The dim light of Law's cabin barely illuminates the room as the submarine sails through the night. As a habitual insomniac, he found himself immersed in the quiet of the late hours. Papers, maps, and various other books are scattered across his desk, evidence of a night spent deep in thought and planning.

The first rays of sun begin to filter through the porthole of his quarters, Law, weary but determined, pushes himself to finish what he has already started. Knowing that you will wake up soon, Law decides to ignore the drowsiness that threatened to consume him. Without a word, he closes his books, tidies the clutter on his desk, and heads to the kitchen.

In the kitchen, Law moves with purpose. He selects ingredients, and soon, the aroma of fresh coffee beans fills the air as he brews a strong pot for you. The soft sizzle of eggs hitting the pan accompanies the noise of the coffee dripping into the pot

Despite the evident weariness in his face, Law continues. He plates a simple yet thoughtful breakfast—scrambled eggs, toast, and a steaming cup of coffee.

Just as the sun begins to shine over the submarine, Law returns to his quarters. The signs of a long night are evident in the disheveled papers, the scattered books. Yet, on the small desk, there sits a neatly arranged breakfast tray, just for you. 

As you stir awake, the smell of breakfast fills your senses. You look over to the source of the smell and your eyes land on the desk. There, you find the meal and right next to it, lays Law, who is sound asleep. You smile softly as you take in the sight in front of you. You know Law loves you through his silent acts of service towards you.

-

-

-

The smell of blood fills the air as the battle comes to an end. Law surveys the aftermath, assigning the uninjured members of the crew to tend to the more severely injured ones as his own attention turns to focus solely on you. 

“Here, let me help you.” He commands in his usual stern tone as he guides you to a less chaotic area, the subtle urgency in his voice betraying the composed facade. He quickly starts his examination on you, not wanting to miss any bump or scratch.

As other more bruised and battered crew members come to seek medical attention from Law, he quickly dismisses them. "Give us some space," he declares, a  firmness in his voice indicating that he is not to be disobeyed.

Law meticulously examines you and your injuries, his fingers tracing every cut, every scratch, every bruise on your body as he decides his next course of action. He determines that your injuries are only surface level, but insists on staying with you and patching you up himself. 

His attention never wavers as he tends to each and every wound on you, making sure to give you extra care and love and attention. He knows the rest of his crew needs proper medical attention, but a lingering voice yells at him to make sure that you are completely taken care of before anyone else. As he applies the bandages, you can see the care and love for you he has in his eyes. You know Law loves you when he puts your health and wellbeing above others. 

-

-

- 

Law sits in a corner of his quarters engrossed in the latest issue of "Sora the Warrior." The glow of the lamp beside him casts a warm light on his face, emphasizing the focus in his features evident in the furrow of his brows. 

You enter the room, your purpose being to look for something, but your gaze falls upon Law and the unexpected sight of him being lost in a comic.  A hint of surprise crosses your face, quickly replaced by a playful smirk. Law, sensing your presence, looked up, his expression shifting from concentration to embarrassment.

Caught in the act, Law instinctively closes the comic, a poor excuse falling from his lips as he utters "It's not what it looks like," a rare flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. His attempt at nonchalance only fuels your amusement.

You can’t help but tease him. "Didn't take you for a comic book fan, Captain," you say, a playful glint in your eyes.

Law sighs realizing he can't talk his way out of this one.  "Fine, yes I'm into comics." he confessed, embarrassment evident in his tone.

Out of curiosity,  you encourage him to share more. "Really? I had no idea you were into this stuff. What do you like about it?" you asked, taking a seat beside him.

Law hesitates for a moment before launching into an unexpectedly enthusiastic explanation. His eyes light up as he dives into the storyline, the character development, and the battles. As he rambles on, the embarrassment melts away, replaced by a childlike enthusiasm.

He begins to show you the comic, pointing out details in the artwork, discussing plot twists, and even theorizing how the story might go. The more he talked, the more animated he became, his initial embarrassment transforming into genuine enthusiasm for the comics.  You find yourself smiling in complete and utter infatuation as his more unexpected nerdy side comes out as he rambles passionately. The excitement in his voice and the sparkle in his eyes shows you a different side of Law, one that you hope to see more often. You know Law loves you when he shares his unexpected passions with you.