#shes simply too ethereal im afraid

[lunrall]

So don’t say that you've given up on reality

[lehguru]

LATINO SONGS + ONE PIECE CHARACTERS

latino songs i relate to one piece characters and why!

info: not proofread as always, put spotify links in all of them, open to suggestions if yall want this to b a lil series or sum lol, mentions of stabbing (?)

PORTGAS D.ACE : SOU MUSA DO VERÃO - marshmello, luísa sonza

there's something about this song that makes me think of ace in the most... unhinged way. the main chorus is the thing that really stands out to me, because not only he would look gorgeous in a edit with that, it have the same hot energy that ace exhales. he is the kind of man we would see shirtless and imagine things that become a concern to feminism; and that song is exactly what we all, ace simps, want to say to him.

NAMI : ASSANHADINHA - pocah, mc durrony

nami gives the vibes of someone that does not care, period. she just does what she wants and is not afraid to own it too. i can definitely see this song on her playlist too, not only because of the way she relates to the lyrics, but also the beat itself. another big reason is simply: my girl likes to throw it back, and this is a great song to do it without problem.

NICO ROBIN : PILOTO - flora matos

i put piloto as robin's song, because 1. i ship her with franky; 2. she would totally be the type of person (the 'pilot') that is described in the song. careful? caring? loving? a good person? a scholar? pays attention? courageous? a mate? truthful? a armor bearer? if you need, dangerous? she is all of those things and much more. and that's why she will be forever the woman that holds my heart and she should hold yours too.

SABO : EU VOU COM CARINHO ELA QUER COM FORÇA - mc don juan, mc g15, mc davi

this one i will keep short and simple. a loooong time ago i saw a tiktok that had this song as a "sabo sounds like this" and i couldn't unhear it since (i cant find it again, im sorry); plus the lyrics match very very well. thats it. i cant elaborate further.

USOPP : PAPIN - mc kevin o chris, mc caja

the lyrics say everything i need to say: "fell for my talk, it's over". it's proven over and over again that usopp can lie to people easily, when he wants to. and, after the live action, i can't stop thinking about usopp trying to win you over with a sweet talk, his eyes and voice tone nervous, but so sweet it wins you over. plus, the song weirdly fits his vibe.

SANJI : RITA - tierry

i kinda refuse to explain this one, because it's almost a joke for myself, but i shall translate some of the lyrics (think that he's singing it to you): "oh love, come back. come back, love, and i will forgive the stabbing. oh, love, don't leave me alone, come back and i will pull out the charges."

DRACULE MIHAWK : ME RECLAMA - mambo kingz, dj luian, luigi 21 plus, ozuna

THIS SONG IS SO MIHAWK CODED, IT MAKES ME SICK. he knows he's the best, he always goes to you when you call him and he's not afraid to tell others that it's "not his fault he is the one you call for". his entire persona with this song in the background makes me shake, he would look extremely ethereal with his hand on your waist, pulling you closer, and his head tilted – all while his lips are whispering sweet spanish into your ear.

2023 © content belongs to lehguru, but the characters used in them belong to their respective creators!!

[respect-the-fae]

My Hekate dream

My vision is kind of hazy, to start with. Alot of it at first is just physical sensations.

The air is cold, but in the refreshing way, like you've been in a really warm room for hours and you've only just been able to go outside. The air feels thick, like fog (which it is, but I cant see that yet), and my feet are on dry land. My feet are bare, but I step forward and a twig snaps under my weight. It doesn't hurt, I'm somehow able to feel but not get hurt, it's a comforting thought.

I'm wearing something soft and loose, its light and fluffy, like a blanket. Its heavier at my left hip, and my fingers brush over what is a metal brooch holding the fabric around me.

My vision comes back, and I realise im in a woodland, and I feel at peace even when it's dark and what most would call eerie.

I'm a cross roads, in the exact centre between 3 paths.

I close my eyes and go where my instincts tell me, the path that draws me to it, and I turn left.

My eyes open, and the trees change from dark to snow topped, and the ground is cold as I walk through the snow. I stop and make a snow ball, just for the childish fun of it, and I throw it to hit a tree trunk, laughing before continuing.

The path is long, and I walk it all, the trees changing again to autumn colours that comfort me. Oranges and reds that crunch under my feet, and i can see little squirrels in the dark scurrying up the trees.

At the end, there's a big stone slab. Like a table, and 2 dogs at either side. They watch me, heads cocked, not sure if im a threat or a friend. I kneel a few feet from them, and I raise out a closed fist for them to sniff. The left one is golden coated, and it moves first to sniff at my hand, before making a rumbling noise, and I slowly unfurl my fist and let it lick at my palm with its black tongue.

The black one on the other side follows, and I close my fist again to allow it the same process as its companion. It quickly laps at my knuckles and whines, and I spend a few minutes petting them. They're aloof, obviously prideful, but they seem to like me, but I don't follow when they back away.

"They seem to like you." A voice states, and I'm not as afraid as logically I should be. I can't see anyone there, but I somehow know who it is.

It's Hekate, of course.

"I quite like them too." I reply, and there's a laugh that seems to come from nowhere and everywhere at once before she comes into view. She's tall, and wearing black, but her facial features flicker and change every second, and she has rings on every finger.

Her dogs go to her, and she pets at them with playful familiarity.

"Drink with me." She commands, and I nod, and the air suddenly smells of tea. The stone slab is suddenly filled with objects, which is confusing to me because it was empty before.

A cup is placed before me, steam hitting my nose along with the smell of earl grey. My favourite, strong with a splash of milk. No sugar.

I can't identify what Hekate is drinking, but I assume it's a godly version of tea. She seems to be enjoying it, anyway, a pleased hum sort of sound echoing across the clearing.

"Why am I here, Lady?" I ask, probably kind of rude, and she laughs.

"You asked for me. You prayed for me to help you." She said, simply, and I think I was openly staring at her.

"I didn't think you'd come." I tell her, and she looks infinitely sad. She reaches to touch my hair, and runs her index finger across the centre of my brows before reaching back.

"You've been hurt. I could see it. But I'll always come if I'm asked." She says, and I feel like crying, and instead drink some tea. It's perfect, but what else to expect from a goddess.

"What do I do?" I ask her, and she stirs her tea with a finger, her features flickering a little faster, and it makes me dizzy to watch so I just watch the dogs play together a few feet away.

"What you've always done. You adapt, you improvise. You survive. You've always kept your faith, even when you were hurt for it. You'll get through this, and you have me and the others beside you." She says after a moment, and I feel a warmth from her.

I feel clearer, less boggy in my mind and my anxiety seems to take a backseat for now. The Goddess smiles and passes a box towards me, and I open it slowly, and I see crystal spheres.

Tigers Eye, Amethyst, Obsidian and Bloodstone.

They're beautiful and glinting in the moonlight, and they feel hot under my fingers.

"Thank you, Lady." I tell her, and she smiles and stands, and I follow. She towers over me, absolutely ethereal, and she presses a kiss to the spot between my brows, and then I'm falling.

I wake up.

(Note: this is my dream, I don't know what it means, I've had it a few times. I love Hekate and she is my main goddess. I thought I'd share it.)

[rickyyysaurus]

Another post of my Hell Circus fic

It’s.... dark. Blacker than black. I can’t even see my own hand in front of my face. And my head.... fucking hurts.What even happened? Where am I? Whoam I? The last thing I remember is hustling across the street with my lover in tow, and a pair of bright lights rushing toward us. Everything went so bright, nearly blinding, and there was a face. Too hazy to make out very well but that face was bright as well. I wonder-‘

A brilliant spotlight snaps on with a click from overhead,illuminating a lanky figure dressed from head to toe in a bedazzled uniform. From where he stood in the center of a sandy ring his pale skin appeared to shimmer, as though translucent, with dark signs scrawled around what can only be assumed were his eyes. His muted voice gradually increases in volume, and it’s clear now he’s speaking to an audience you realize you are a part of.

‘Is this.....some kind of show?’ Performers emerge from somewherebeyond the outlying shadows. An incredibly tall, pale lady in an extravagant dress, a clown as stout as an oak and as bright as the sun, accompanied by two tiny men doing acrobatic stunts across the clown’s shoulders. ‘Ah, a circus. Seems it is a sort of show after all.’

An elbow attempts to pop your spleen. Looking to your side you see a beautiful woman, her hair the warmest chocolate brown and flowing all around her, face aglow with curiosity. It’s her. She’s the love you crossed that street with.

“ How’d we get here?” You simply shake your head and return your focus to the act in front of you. There’s an abundance of fire, even for a circus, and more species of creatures than you could count. Something wasn’t quite right, though. Something about those animals was..... not right. No time to think of that now as the lights swivel around the tent, glitter falling through the air and catching the light as if to imitate the stars, and the glamour of the entertainers and their routines taking away your breath. The sheer spectacularity of it all is simply stunning.

You could have been there months, or years, or hours. Who’s to say? The whole ordeal was timeless, and it’s end came much too soon. Following the stream of people leaving the darkening tent center you approach the exit. The Ringmaster is waiting for you. “ Tickets, please.” His voice is both a whisper and a shout, like the babbling of a brook and the grinding of gravel, the wind rustling the trees and leaves crunching underfoot.

You and your companion glance doubtfully at each other. “In your pockets, perhaps?”You hesitantly reach into your pocket and pull out a brightly colored slip of paper. ‘It’s a bit odd to collect tickets after we’ve seen the show, isn’t it?’ You hand him your tickets nonetheless and watch fixedly as he burns them with a flame that appears from nowhere and produces no smoke.

“Follow me.”He turns to a door emitting an ethereal light. Looking around you notice a much larger crowd being led to a different door that screams of death and smells of smoke. They seem blind to it all.

“Why are they going that way?” Your lover questions. “They didn’t have tickets, I’m afraid.” He opens your door, and beyond is a world you could tell was perfect at first glance. A land fairer than day, even. The scent of sugar and fruit wafts up to you, and you finally grasp the situation.

“Oh” you say. “They are the damned, aren’t they?” The Ringmaster smiles apologetically and nods sadly. “I’m sorry to say that, yes, they are indeed.” You and your partner look between the Ringmaster, his circus, and your door. “Go, before time runs out.”

You take one last look at the crowd gathered at the other door before grabbing your darling’s hand and crossing the threshold. When you turn around, the door is gone. Your love looks up at you with a bewildered expression before stating, “This might sound controversial, but I think that went well.”

Im not used to writing first person so this was sort of practice ig.

@genesiscaveat heres this one. I found the other one but it’s not really finished. I don’t rlly know how to continue it tho so I might post it anyway

[polkadotzavala]

I don't know which blaseball team you're on so you can pick the characters but could you do 15 for the prompts?

HI!!!! im a mint!!! sorry this took like a week, i accidentally got a little carried away so heres 2k of OG mins lore (as i see it bc he minty way is that Everything Nice Is True

15: Things you said many miles apart

A collection of Interviews, taken in the weeks leading up to the Formation and Appearance of ILB Blaseball Team, The Kansas City Breath Mints. Found on VHS in a tote bag hidden in the office of Mr. M. Betmint, KCBM General Manager, digitized and filed during the Siesta by Mx. B. Monreal, Season 11 KCBM Interim General Manager.

 ---

 “SAY YOUR NAME FOR THE CAMERA.”

 “My name is Whit Steakknife, do you always yell like that?” Whit Steakknife cocks his serrated knife blade of a head to the side. His hands do not move from their folded position on the table. 

 “THIS IS MY NORMAL MANAGER VOICE.” Calls the voice standing behind the large camera tripod. 

 “Okay then Mr., uh, Betmint, was it?”

 “YES. I AM MAXIMUS BETMINT. I HAVE A FEW QUESTIONS FOR YOU.” 

 “Ask away.”

 “HAVE YOU EVER PLAYED BLASEBALL BEFORE?”

 “A few neighborhood grabbag teams here and there, even met my second wife, Justice, playing blaseball.” He flashes his left hand, where a single rose gold band is visible. 

 “DO YOU PLAN ON PLAYING BLASEBALL PROFESSIONALLY?”

 “In the league that’s forming? Maybe, if I get an offer to.”

 “IS THE COMMISSIONER DOING A GREAT JOB?”

 “Absolutely.” Whit Steakknife smiles, and the interview is over. 

 ---

 The following VHS’s audio was significantly quieter than the rest and the video quality was lacking more than the others. Still regarded as adequate data. -BM

-  -  -

 “HELLO INTERVIEWEE. PLEASE SET DOWN YOUR BAT AND STATE YOUR NAME INTO THE CAMERA.”

 “So, you acknowledge that it is a bat.”

 “WHY WOULD IT NOT BE?”

 “Because you folks on this end of the pond do not seem to know what Clricket is.”

 “YOU’RE RIGHT, I DON’T. WHY DON’T YOU TELL ME WITH YOUR NAME INTO THE CAMERA?”

 “My name is Marquez Clark and I am a Clricket batter.”

 “DOES THAT MEAN YOU ALSO  KNOW HOW TO BE A BLASEBALL BATTER?”

 “I wager I could try.”

 “WOULD YOU JOIN A BLASEBALL TEAM?”

 “I do not see why not.”

 “FINALLY. IS THE COMMISSIONER DOING A GREAT JOB?”

 “I do not know who he is but I would assume so.” Marquez Clark picks up his Clricket bat and leaves camera view, ending the interview.

---

 “PLEASE STATE YOUR NAME TO THE CAMERA.”

 The mime on camera does not say anything and simply hands a paper to the man behind the camera. 

 “GREY ALVARADO, MIME FOR HIRE.”

 The mime, Grey Alvarado, nods quietly. 

 “IS MIME BITS ALL YOU ARE HIRED FOR?”

 Grey smiles and shakes his head no. He mimes the action of using a pickaxe to mine, rocking a baby to sleep, and mixing something in a large bowl. 

 “HAVE YOU BEEN HIRED FOR BLASEBALL BEFORE?”  

 Grey nods yes and mimes tapping a blaseball bat on the batting plate and readying a swing.

 “WOULD YOU BE WILLING TO PLAY BLASEBALL PROFESSIONALLY?”

Grey smiles wider, as if silently laughing, and mimes hitting a pitch with his mimed bat and then shields his eyes as if looking into the sunny distance to see how far the ball flew. 

 “IS THE COMMISSIONER DOING A GREAT JOB?”

 Grey strikes a pose and gives the camera a thumbs up, ending the interview. 

 ---

 “TELL THE CAMERA YOUR NAME PLEASE.”

 “My name is Eizabeth Guerra, it's right there on the catering invoice.” Eizabeth Guerra sits in a chair, arms folded over her baker’s apron. 

 “YES THANK YOU FOR THE MINTY DESSERTS, THE SPEARMINT WILL BE APPEASED.”

 “The spearmint will-, nevermind, I came here to bring you catered desserts, not answer an interview.”

 “IS AN INTERVIEW NOT PART OF THE CATERING PROCESS?”

 “Usually not, Mister Betmint.”

 “DO YOU EVER CATER BLASEBALL EVENTS OR GAMES?”

 “Occasionally.”

 “DO YOU THINK THAT WOULD ALLOW YOU TO HAVE ENOUGH KNOWLEDGE TO PLAY BLASEBALL PROFESSIONALLY?”

 “What are you playing at Mr. Betmint?” She leans forward in her chair, getting closer to the camera. 

 “CAN’T TELL YOU.”

 “Alright then.”

 “DO YOU THINK THE COMMISSIONER IS DOING A GREAT JOB?”

 “I’d assume so.” Eizabeth Guerra stands and tips her cap to the camera, the interview is over. 

 ---

 “TELL US YOUR NAME. THE CAMERA WANTS TO KNOW.”

 “Oh? You don’t know your own boyfriend’s name?”

 “ARE YOU MY BOYFRIEND?”

 “I might be, I might not be. I guess we’ll never know.”  They laugh a little.

 “YOU STILL HAVEN’T SAID YOUR NAME.”

 “My name is Boyfriend Monreal, ethereal boyfriend.” Boyfriend Monreal smirks and the eyes dotting their lengthy braid of hair blink in a slow cascading pattern. 

 “MX. MONREAL, DO YOU KNOW WHAT BLASEBALL IS?”

 “I’ve seen a few baseball players now and again, yes.”

 “WITH ALL OF THE EYES OR ON A DATE?”

 “Yes.”

 “HAVE YOU LEARNED HOW TO PLAY THE SPLORT AT ALL THROUGH THIS?”

 “Enough, and enough to know what you’re going to ask next.”

 “WHICH IS?”

 “Whether or not I could play Blaseball professionally, and the answer is yes, I will be.” 

 “DO YOU-”

 “Of course he is,” Boyfriend Monreal stands and winks with nearly all their eyes, “for now.” 

 ---

 The following footage, though perfectly intact on the VHS, did not translate well digitally. As such it is incomplete, and regarded as inaccurate data. -BM

-  -  -

 “CAMERA! TELL THE CAMERA YOUR NAME” Betmint sounds a little agitated and out of breath, as if the camera had not being working correctly. 

 “My name is Rodriguez Internet, and I am the Internet.” Rodriguez Internet bows a little, the ASCII Strings that make up his body shifting to create the movement.

 “DOES BEING THE INTERNET LET YOU KNOW EVERYTHING?”

 “There is way way too much to know, so I don’t know anything.”

 “DO YOU AT LEAST KNOW WHAT BLASEBALL IS?”

 “It’s a splort.”

 “CORRECT. CAN YOU PLAY IT?”

 “I’m down to learn it, yeah.”

 “DO-” The feed cuts out, the rest of Betmint’s sentence can be heard in bits an pieces, though nothing discernable enough to tell what he said. The feed returns at the end of his next question, “- A GREAT JOB?”

 “Yes, of course he is.” Rodrigeuz Internet tips his imaginary hat as he stands and walks away from the camera. The tape runs for about 30 seconds on an empty room before cutting out, the interview is over. 

 ---

 “THE CAMERA IS ROLLING. FEEL FREE TO SAY YOUR NAME AND MONOLOUGE AT IT.”

 “Thank you for the opportunity to do so Mr. Betmint.”

 “MY PLEASURE.”

 “My name is Dickerson Morse, PI. Before you start yelling again sir, I am not here to investigate you.” Dickerson Morse levies the camera a steady dead stare from under the brim of his fedora.

“PHEW.”

 “I am here to interview for whatever team it was you were advertising with this poorly made flyer. What are the qualifications I need?”

 “WELL, DO YOU KNOW WHAT BLASEBALL IS?”

 “I’ve done steak-outs at games before, back when I did larceny cases.”

 “DO YOU THINK YOU COULD PLAY IT PROFESSIONALLY?”

 “Technically I am a professional at everything, so, yes.”

 “GREAT. FINAL QUESTION. DO YOU THINK THE COMISSIONER IS DOING A GREAT JOB?”

 “Yes.” Dickerson Morse crushes something small against the table, the video feed fills with smoke and he is gone. The interview is over.

 ---

 “SAY HELLO TO THE CAMERA. TELL IT YOUR NAME.” 

 “Hello, I am Hewitt Best.”

 “HELLO. DO YOU KNOW BLASEBALL?”

 “Yes, I do.

 “CAN YOU PLAY IT?”

 “Yes, I can.”

 “WOULD YOU PLAY IT PROFESSIONALLY?”

 “Would I get union benefits?”

 “I DON’T KNOW WHAT THOSE ARE BUT I THINK SO.”

 “Then yes, I would.”

 “IS THE COMMISSIONER DOING A GREAT JOB?”

 “Certainly.” Hewitt Best smiles and simply walks away from the screen, the interview is over.

 ---

 The video on this tape is nearly indecipherable sue to angelic presence; however,  the audio is completely intact. Regarded as accurate data. - BM

-  -  -

 “I THINK IT WORKS NOW. HERE’S A CAMERA, PLEASE SAY YOUR NAME TO THE CAMERA.”

 “Eduardo Ingram, Seraph.” The bright spot that is the angelic form of Eduardo Ingram shines a bit brighter for a second. 

 “And leach ingram, lich.” The darker spot on the film that is the necrotic form of Leach Ingram flickers for a second.

 “DO YOU COME AS A PAIR?”

 “Well, no.”  Eddie laughs.

 “Can you blame a lich for wanting to spend time with her partner?” 

 “CONGRATS ON YOUR MARRIAGE.”

 “Thank you.” The two reply in unison.

 “HAVE EITHER OF YOU HEARD OF BLASEBALL?”

 “I have, yes.”

 “Where i can throw a ball in the direction of the plate he can hit it out of the park.” 

 “WOULD YOU BOTH PLAY PROFESSIONALLY IF GIVEN THE CHANCE?”

 The colors of the video shift for a second, as if the two are looking at each other. “Yes.” They both reply, curtly, in unison. 

 “THE COMMISSIONER. IS HE DOING A GREAT JOB.”

 “Yes.”

 “Absolutely.”

 The video flickers to pitch black before refocusing on the now empty office. Eduardo and Leach Ingram have left and their interview is over. 

 ---

 “SMILE FOR THE CAMERA AND TELL IT YOUR NAME.”

 “A good dentist never does his own teeth, so I'm afraid mine are a little shoddy.” He flashes a crooked smile.

“ARE YOU BOASTING DENTAL PROWESS, SIR?”

 “Well, of course, all the kids say Oscar Vaughn D.D.S is the best dentist in all of Kansas City.” Oscar Vaughn sits back a little in his chair. 

 “DO YOU DO DENTAL WORK ON ANY BLASEBALL PLAYERS?”

 “Occasionally.”

 “DO YOU KNOW HOW TO PLAY BLASEBALL?”

 “Oh, of course, I was quite the slugger in college.” He laughs, “Quite impressed my dear husband, too.” He smiles fondly. 

 “ARE YOU AT ALL INTERESTED IN PLAYING BLASEBALL PROFESSIONALLY?”

 “Given I dust off my old gear and my old splorts bones, I think I could manage.” 

 “AND IS THE COMISSIONER DOING A GREAT JOB?”

 “Forever and always.” Oscar Vaughn nods his head at the camera and the interview is over. 

 Note: The tape and digital upload of the tape both glitch and play this interview twice over instead of the one single time. No known reason as to why. Tapes are still valid information. -BM

 ---

 “TELL THE CAMERA YOUR NAME, BE ITS FRIEND.”

 “Does the camera have the sentience to make friends, Mr. Betmint?”

 “I DON’T KNOW. EXISTENTIALISM IS NOT MY STRONG SUIT.”

 “That’s fair.”

 “WHAT WAS YOUR NAME AGAIN.”

 “Axel Trololol and I’m going to become a car one day.” Axel Trololol beams a bright smile directly at the camera. 

 “OH, DO YOU KNOW ABOUT CYBERNETICS? I NEED MORE PEOPLE WHO KNOW ABOUT CYBERNETICS.”

 “I know my fair share, yes.” 

 “DO YOU KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT BLASEBALL?” 

 “Quite a bit, my sibling Stu has been playing for a few years and I’ve picked some of it up.”

 “WOULD YOU PLAY IT PROFESSIONALLY?”

 “In a heartbeat.” 

 “DO YOU THINK THE COMMISSIONER IS DOING A GREAT JOB?”

 “The greatest job.” Axel Trololol smiles brightly and the interview is over. 

 ---

 “CAMERA IS GOING TELL IT YOUR NAME.”

 “My Name Is PolkaDot Patterson.” “My name is PolkaDot Zavala”

Call two similar, yet distinct, voices from where PolkaDot Patterson and their shadow, PolkaDot Zavala, are sitting. “WAIT ARE THERE TWO OF YOU?”

 “Yes And No, We Are Separate People And Separate Entities, Zavala Merely Is My Shadow. Therefore, She Is A Part Of Me But We Are Not The Same.”

 “I am them, and I am me, they are only them, and they are not not me.”

 “SO DO YOU DO EVERYTHING EXACTLY THE SAME?” 

 “Not Always, We Can Move As Separate People.”

 “I take naps when they do things quite often.” 

 “IF ONE OF YOU LEARNED A SPLORT COULD THE OTHER ONE DO IT AS WELL?”

 “Within Reason, Yes.”

 “I’ll just read the textbooks over their shoulder.”  Zavala giggles. 

 “DO EITHER OF YOU KNOW BLASEBALL?”

 “A Decent Amount, I’m Not As Good At It As I Would Like To Be, But, I Will Get There.”

 “I’ve sat in on a lesson or two, enough to know what’s goin’ on in a game.” 

 “WOULD YOU LIKE TO PLAY BLASEBALL PROFESSIONALLY?”

 “That Would Be Much Apreiciated Practice.”

 “I don’t really have anything better to do, plus it might be fun.”

 “OKAY. IS THE COMMISSIONER DOING A GREAT JOB?”

 “Yes, Of Course.” PolkaDot Patterson stands and gives a half bow as they turn away from the camera.

 “Naturally, duh.” PolkaDot Zavala gives the other half of the bow as they follow Patterson out the door. The interview is over. 

[descendantofthesparrow]

harry hook x pan! reader - found out

ask from anon

Hi! Can you an imagine or something about Peter Pan and Wendy finding out their kid is dating Harry?

“what.the.fuck?!” shit shit shit shit shitshit. They found out, your parents had found out!!

…oh, wait you guys don’t know what they found out do ya?

Well, my name is (y/n) pan, daughter of peter pan and wendy darling.

And im dating harry hook.

Pause for dramatic effect~

Yeah so, harry and I have been dating for…two and a half months now? Its been about four months since the barrier was taken down, and harry had somehow ended up as my roommate, and for about two weeks he made it his mission to bug the hell out of me, playing continuous ocean sounds throughout the night (which now I knew helped him sleep) and constantly misplacing my things, eating my food, stealing my books and hiding them somewhere.

But one day everything changed, you see, Harry had woken up from a nightmare, apparently, he had been falling in his dream, after someone who could fly had taken him and dropped him from the sky.

And you didn’t like the look of fear on his face. So you grabbed his hand, and lead him to your secret spot, grabbing a small brown bag before you left.

“Pan, what are ye-“

“shhh! Don’t speak too loud, I don’t want anyone to know we're here!”

When you arrived, you hear a tiny gasp come from the boy behind you. You turned to him, seeing him look up at all the tall hanging trees, the pixie lights dangling from them, and fireflies surrounding the place, blinking as they flew around slowly. the small lake reflecting the lights and moon and giving the place an ethereal glow.

You simply watched him, as he walked around your spot, fingers brushing the trees and lights.

“wha-what is this place pan?”

“my spot”

He turned to you confused “spot?”

“yea, when I first came here my anxiety was really bad, so Tinkerbelle and her friends made this place for me, its where I can calm down and focus.”

A firefly landed on Harry's nose and he froze, going crossed eyed to stare at it.

“wha-what is this?!” you laughed, walking over to harry and picking the bug up with your finger, letting it crawl off and float away.

“a firefly, harmless”

Harry sniffed, watching another firefly land on his shoulder, but he let it stay, admiring the soft glow.

“so..” harry started, “why yeh take me here?” he asked, now turning to look at you.

You smiled, waving for him to follow you, and he did. Still very confused but curious. You climbed up a boulder that looked over the pond, and turned to face your back at the water.

“pan what are ye-“ you stuck your hand in the little brown bag, and pulled it out, small golden dust particles falling from the cracks in your fingers.

“is-is tha’?” you nodded, waving it over you and harry. Harry sneezed, shaking his head as the dust settled over him.

The golden dust layered on his shoulders and hair, some settling on his nose. You giggled, he looked kinda cute if you had to be honest.

“All you need is faith” your feet left the ground, Harry's jaw dropped “trust” you started to float towards him, smiling at his awestruck face “and pixie dust” you flew above his head, smiling down at him.

“just a happy thought away”

Harry's brows furrowed, “any happy thought?” and you nodded “the happier it is the longer you'll fly”

Harry bit his lip, looking unsure, so you held your hands out, “you can do it. You don’t have to be afraid”

Harry shakily grasped your hands, and you guided him to the edge of the boulder, keeping your eyes locked with his and your hands held tight.

Harry scrunched his eyes closed, thinking of anything he could.

You waited.

A memory burst through Harry's head.

“ye don’t like me because im hooks son don’t yeh?”

“what no? I don’t not like you because your hooks son, you're just really goddamn annoying, I don’t give a fuck that your hooks son, you're Harry Hook, not James Hook”

Another came

“what's six times six harry”

“ummm…thirty six?”

“correct!”

“holy fuck really?”

“congrats harry, you can do math”

His feet left the ground. You smiled as he slowly ascended.

“mom?”

“Hello my baby”

His jacket billowed in the air, now you two were eye level.

“harry, open your eyes” harry slowly fluttered his eyes open, seeing you smiling softly at him, your hair floating with you in the air.

He gasped, glancing down and seeing the ground six feet below him.

“i-Im” he stuttered, grinning nervously “im flying?!”

You nodded as harry flapped his arms around, elevating himself higher as he nervously laughed, “oh my god im flying!!”

“lean right” you floated to the right and up “fly right”

He nodded, leaning to the left, drifting in that direction.

You giggled, nodding, before stopping midair and catching his hand, slowing him to a stop and grinning mischievously

“You wanna see something cool?”

Harry nodded, unsure, so you floated away from him, scrunching up your body before straightening all your limbs and rocketing up in the air, you heard Harry gasp before you flew out of earshot.

You flew above the trees, before closing your eyes and letting yourself fall, you heard harry scream your name as you free fall and you grinned, before curling yourself and rocketing back up just before you hit the ground, doing a backflip as you did so.

You turned yourself right side up, laughing from the adrenaline rush.

Harry slammed into you, clutching onto you for dear life.

“oh my god (y/n)!!! don’t yeh dare do that again!!! Yeh scared the hell out of meh!!!”

You blinked surprised before slowly wrapping your arms around Harry's torso. “um, im sorry? Its something my dad taught me a while ago, everybody always finds it cool so I didn’t think-“

“just-“ he pulled away from you, his face red from blushing “just don’t do it again around meh okay, I thought yeh had passed out or something up there”

Yours and Harry's relationship had changed from there, he had stopped annoying you on purpose, the most he did was poke you till you snapped at him.

And then one day.

“pa-…(y/n)?” “yeah harry?”

“will ye…will yeh go on a date with meh?”

“…”

“I mean-never mind-yeh don’t have teh-“

“id love to harry”

“Really?!”

Then you started taking him flying twice a week, and you didn’t know that you became his happy thought and he became yours.

To say hed stolen your heart in a short amount of time was an understatement, you had given your heart, and he gave his to you in return.

Now back to the present, you and Harry were on a date at the enchanted lake, teeth clashing and hickies on your necks.

Unfortunately, that’s how your parents found you, now your mother was blushing terribly and your father looked horrified.

“wha-what are you doing with hooks kid!!?!” peter yelled, walking over to where you and harry stood, gripping onto your wrist painfully, making you yelp and dragging you away from harrying.

Harry growled at your yelp, cathing your father's hand and tearing him off of you, gently grasping your shirt and pulling you behind him.

“don’t ye hurt her like that again”

Wendy was shocked, but she saw the love for you in Harrys eyes, she sighed, stepping forward and putting her hand in front of peter to stop him from punching harry.

“(y/n), does he protect you?”

You stepped out from behind Harry, nodding tightly

“Is he kind to you?”

Another nod

“has he hurt you”

You shook your head no

“do you love him?”

You paused, before you nodded, yes, you had fallen in love with harry.

Harry blushed at that question.

Wendy smiled, taking peters arm and backing away

“I trust your judgment sweetie, have a fun date! No funny business”

And she walked away with your fuming father, as you and Harry looked at each other and grinned awkwardly.

“umm, I guess yer mum likes me?”

“uh, I think so?”

You and Harry continued your date, though now conscious of your father that might be lurking around to make sure nothing really happened.

Good thing Harry made it up to you later.

---the end---

[nayladoodles]

Gently

Azirapahle and Crowley enter a new chapter of their relationship

Beatrica Sandz is my oc There are days when Crowley is reminded that the world not ending, the failed trials (thank you body swap) and their new freedom did not mean his relationship with Aziraphale will suddenly change to be what he’s always wanted it to be. The angel seems quite content with their friendship staying platonic even though the demon has been helplessly in love with him since Eden before he realized demons can love. As he sits across from his angel for their nightcap he thinks about how much he wants to kiss his plump lips. “I love him so much..”  Crowley thinks to himself getting lost in his angel’s grey-blue eyes that reminded him of the skies of Eden after the first rain. So focused on his reverence he failed to realize that Aziraphale has stopped talking his cheeks a ruddy pink. “So beautiful…” Crowley mumbles, making Aziraphale turn even darker pink, trying to process what exactly he heard the demon he’s known for 6000 plus years mumble under his breath looking lovestruck. The flustered angel waits to see if Crowley will mumble anything else and sure enough Crowley stares at him reverently his glasses slipping down his nose mumbling something about kissing him. 

“My dear,” Aziraphale squeaks his entire face and the tips of his ears burning, “Are you with me?” Crowley is still staring at him like he hung the moon, his own cheeks pink and yellow serpentine eyes dilated. “My darling angel…” He sighs nearly spilling the red wine onto the beige tartan carpet. 

“Crowley!” Aziraphale yelps moving to steady the glass before wine spills over its lip. Crowley blinks looking very much like he just woke from a dream. 

“You say something angel?” He asks righting himself in the chair. 

“Crowley are you quite all right?” Aziraphale replies looking flustered. 

“I am why? Something wrong?” Crowley asks, sounding concerned. “Did I zone out on you?” 

“Well yes you seemed to be daydreaming or something of that sort. K-kept looking at me like I hung the m-moon dear boy.” Aziraphale stammers his blush darkening.  Crowley has the decency to look embarrassed, his own cheeks flushing. 

 “Sssorry angel,” He replies his sibilant breaking his speech. “Did I ssay anything weird?”

“That I’m beautiful.” Aziraphale replies looking away. 

“Well, you certainly are beautiful.” Crowley replies, smiling at his angel. 

“I’m soft!” Aziraphale squeaks looking upset. 

“There’s nothing wrong with soft.” Crowley sighs. 

“If you say so…” Azira replies looking put out. 

“Angel you’re gorgeousssss~” Crowley purrs. 

“Crowley please…” Azira begs looking close to tears. 

“I ssshould go…” Crowley huffs the wine tasting sour on his tongue because he nearly made his love cry. 

“You can stay Crowley.” Azira replies. 

“I’m gone.” Crowley simply teleports into his car leaving his glass and a very flustered angel behind in the backroom. He drives back to his flat feeling guilty for pushing too far. 

“Overdramatic demon…” Azira sighs picking up the glasses to wash them his head still spinning from Crowley’s earlier confessions. They don’t meet again until the next Friday, Crowley still being eaten by the guilt of hurting Aziraphale’s feelings with his teasing (but entirely genuine) compliment. Aziraphale calls him up for lunch and they go for sushi. Aziraphale barely touches his sashimi distracted by the love coming off Crowley in waves. He’s in love with me? Oh dear Satan I thought it was only me after the Blitz.  He thinks to himself poking at the sashimi. 

“You not hungry angel?” Crowley asks having eaten his nigiri already. 

“Just distracted I suppose.” Aziraphale replies, picking up a piece of sushi and eating it, relishing the flavors with a soft hum. The love is nearly suffocating as it settles on his shoulder making his ethereal essence wiggle happily. After lunch Crowley says he has to run an errand and water his plants after dropping Aziraphale back at his shop. 

Crowley disappears for almost two weeks during which Aziraphale finally processes that his demon is in love with him and he took 6000 bloody years to realize that. “I’m such an idiot!” He huffs sinking into his arm chair on Tuesday of the first week. He thinks back on every time Crowley saved him or took him out for food/theatre. Even their walks in St. James Park. “O-Oh you wiley serpent…” He sighs his entire face burning as he remembers it all. Even the times when Crowley acted against the plan God had to save innocents. Covering his red face with his hands Aziraphale lets the love he feels for Crowley settle into his entire being feeling like a weight lifted off his shoulders. “How lovely…” He murmurs softly as the love warms him. 

He receives a donation the next day leaving him to rearrange and sort the news books into his collection. By Thursday he has fully accepted his love for Crowley and the demon’s love for him happily puttering around his shop hoping his knight in shining black armor will come and swoop him off his feet for a meal out or a show. When Crowley did not appear on Friday or Saturday Aziraphale began to worry that he may have chased him off. By Wednesday the following week worry had settled onto Aziraphale’s shoulders like a wet blanket as he paced around the shop feeling stressed because Crowley would not answer his telephone or cellular phone. The next day Aziraphale decides to go over to check on Crowley at his flat unable to stand the thought that his love is upset or injured. He arrives at the door and knocks three times waiting a good five minutes before unlocking the door with the spare key. “Crowley?” He calls closing the door behind him. He sees that the plants are green as ever. The ferns reach out to him as he passes by. He runs his fingers over their leaves gently smiling when they rustle happily. He spots the bedroom door and sees that it’s ajar. He goes over knocking on the door so as not to startle Crowley if he’s asleep. He finds it empty and sits on the bed putting his head in his hands. He so desperately wants to see his beloved Crowley to apologize for all the years of pinning he put Crowley through. “You big oaf...what if he gave up?” A soft shiver runs through him at the thought and his eyes burn. Tears begin to fall before he can think to stop them as he sits on the King bed wishing for his demon to come back. He puts his head back into his hands, tears dripping through his fingers as he sobs softly not hearing the door to the flat open and close. 

Crowley walks into his flat with Beatrice at his side still chatting animatedly with her about the whole death trials thing that happened. 

“M’ telling ya it was genius what you two pulled! Body switch and bam you’re free birds.” Bea says pausing when she spots Aziraphale’s shoes. “These don’t seem like your type of shoes?” She said. 

Crowley looks at them, “They’re not mine...oh ssshit…” He hisses heading for the plant room with Bea on his heels. 

“Ya need ta scold them ferns again romeo?” Bea asks as he walks through seeing them rustle fearfully but the one gestures toward his room. Crowley heads toward his bedroom panic rising in him. “What’s goin on romeo?” Bea asks him as he strides down the corridor hurriedly. 

He gets to his room ignoring the only demon in all of hell he enjoys hanging with and pushes the door open seeing a figure on his bed shivering, “Angel?” 

Aziraphale’s head snaps up tears still rolling down his cheeks at the familiar voice and he nearly smiles until he spots Bea hovering at Crowley’s heels looking confused. He feels something in him snap and stands as Crowley crosses the room. “S-sorry to interrupt whatever it is you were doing...you didn’t answer my calls but I can see that y-you're busy…” Struggling to wipe his tears and not miracle himself out of the flat he turns to go 

“Angel no! It’s not what you think!” Crowley grabs his wrist looking upset himself.

“Let go of me Crowley. You’re c-clearly busy with your lady friend.” Azira struggles to escape. 

“He only tolerates me cause I don't want to kill ‘im if we’re bein’ honest right now.” Bea chimes in. “Perish the thought of ‘im actually liking me enough to want to cuddle and preen wings like he does with ya.” Both men blush at the mention of preening. "He only has eyes for ya as I've heard him wax on about plenty all these years." 

"I'm sssorry for vanishing on you angel." Crowley murmurs, relaxing his grip a little. 

Aziraphale slips his wrist free his entire face red. 

"You slept for a century once.." He utters embarrassed he assumed Bea was interested in his demon. "I shouldn't have assumed…" A tear escapes down his cheek and Crowley wipes it away. Aziraphale brings his hand up to cover Crowley's who watches his face reddening. Turning his head Aziraphale kisses the palm of Crowley's hand. 

"N-ngk." Crowley stammers his eyes wide as he falls even more in love with his angel who blushes darker as he feels his demon's love grow. Bea rolls her eyes glad these two finally figured it out. "Still too fassst angel?" Crowley asks his face red. 

"Oh hush." Aziraphale huffs pulling Crowley closer and resting their foreheads together. Crowley sighs softly basking in Aziraphale's warmth. Bea goes to make tea and coco so they can have their moment. When she finishes she calls to them to come get their drinks. The trio ends up on the couch. "So Beatrice is your only friend in hell?" Aziraphale asks. 

"Mm she isss the only one that enjoysss my dramatic bullshit." Crowley agrees. "She and I met about 100 years after Eden." His ears turn darker red "'bout the time she made me realize I'd fallen for you…" Aziraphale looks shocked. 

"Since Eden? Oh my dear how long I've made you wait out of fear." He sniffles. "It was the Blitz when I began to realize and was afraid for us both." Tears started rolling down his cheeks again. "You ran into a bloody church to save me and saved my books despite the ground hurting your feet." 

Crowley wipes his tears again, "Love is really bloody complicated but, I never regretted coming to your aid. I liked being your hero. Made me feel less like a demon. Wass nice." He nuzzles into Aziraphale's neck wrapping his love in a hug. "Our sidesss aside from Bea could go ssscrew themselvesss." 

Bea snorts amused, "They still can. Idiots the lot of 'em. No wonder ya two outsmarted them." 

Aziraphale snuggles into Crowley's embrace insecurity still plaguing him. He's glad they took a step forward after everything they've been through together the past 6000 years. 

"I can hear you thinking angel and no I won't grow bored of you. I love you too much to ever let you go." Crowley tells him waving his hand to make their drinks warm again. Aziraphale jumps when Crowley manifests his wings wrapping one around him, "We can ease into this new chapter of our relationship as gently as you need." 

Aziraphale smiles and leans over to kiss Crowley. His demon melts into the kiss with a happy sigh. When he pulls away Crowley looks lovestruck his face red as his fiery locks. 

"You can be such a bassstard sometimes…" Crowley hisses but he doesn't move his wing from around Aziraphale. Aziraphale smiles into his coco as he takes a sip. He leans on Crowley's shoulder enjoying the love coming off him in waves. It's going to take a long time to overcome his insecurities but for now a long overdue kiss and cuddles is everything he wants as they ease into their new relationship

Gently. 

[oldloveatz]

addicted | yeosang

 — TYPE: angst, fluff at the end??

— WORD COUNT: 1.5k

— SYNOPSIS: “addicted to your eyes. lips. scent. voice. way of words. body. everything. i am addicted to you, kang yeosang.”

— RECOMMENDED SONG: 고장난 나침반 broken compass, 3racha / desire, ateez

— AUTHOR’S MESSAGE: ahHhhh pls let me be im drowning in my yeoddang feels ; ^ ;

things weren’t exactly the way y/n had hoped her relationship with yeosang expected it to be. he always appeared to be uninterested in anything that she does, anything that she talks about. anything that she wanted.

kisses felt like nothing. embraces lacked the spark. eye contacts that contained nothing bore into each other’s eyes. skins that would touch lacked electricity. there were so many things that lacked in their relationship but neither one of them says anything. they continued on with their relationship.

y/n fell in love with yeosang first. and, well, she hoped he fell in love with her. she was too afraid to ask, to embarrass herself and to give yeosang more reasons to leave her. he wasn’t vocal about anything, so she wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted to leave her in the first place.

yeosang was in love with her. but he couldn’t tell her. the relationship had lasted long enough without resolving the tension between them, why start now? there are a lot of reasons to start now, and that was to get to know the girl he had been dating for six months now.

friday, 9:30 pm —

y/n gets home from work an hour before yeosang does, so she has time to prepare dinner for the both of them. work was especially tiring at this specific day, so y/n did the honors of ordering instead. besides, she doesn’t have any ideas for dinner and yeosang wouldn’t mind. he never does. 

it was yeosang’s idea to move in together five months in. it was a big decision, but he seemed serious enough to convince y/n to live with him in seoul. that was one of the times yeosang had suggested something, usually it was y/n’s decisions that drives the relationship steadily. eventually, she got used to the sudden change.

the food arrived about ten minutes before yeosang does, which gave y/n enough time to get everything ready for them to just sit down and munch on the food.

at exactly 10:30, yeosang walks in to the apartment, eyes immediately darting to y/n who was standing by their small dining table. the kitchen was pretty open to the living room, so the view straight to the dining table was clear as crystal. he nodded his head towards her.

“welcome home,” she mumbled, though loud enough for him to hear. yeosang hummed in response, hands finding his tie and pulling it to loosen it. he proceeded to unbutton the first two buttons, throwing his blazer on the chair and pulling one chair for her to sit down on. “oh.. thanks.”

she sat down, turning her gaze to see yeosang. even with such haggard face from work, he still looked ethereal. she wondered how she could have gotten together with someone who looks so ethereal.. and unreal. y/n was so lost in her thoughts she hadn’t realized yeosang started eating without her.

she decided enough was enough.

“yeosang.. can we talk?” she asked, still haven’t touched her food.

he looked up from his food, leaning back against his chair as if he was waiting for this specific moment to happen. he nodded, still not saying anything.

y/n gulped, thinking of many ways to start the conversation. yeosang seemed to be waiting, he hasn’t touched his food ever since she asked if they could talk. his eyes - oh so icy - bore right onto her face, as if attempting to burn two holes into them.

“actually.. can we start talking?” she said, eyes finally meeting his stern and icy stare. yeosang’s eyes fell from her orbs, and began tracing every feature on her face. he traced over her cute nose, and eyes that he loved when they stared up at him when cuddling. the lips that he loved kissing, though he never admitted it. his eyes dropped to her neck, the same neck that he liked covering with his mark, his love bites. the thought of it made him smirk a little before looking back into her gorgeous eyes.

“yes,” he said, simply. y/n nodded, eyes leaving his and down at her food. she began eating, not knowing whether she should add more to the conversation. “y/n, i like you just as much you do to me.”

she forgot how deep his voice was and how straightforward he can be. as much as yeosang doesn’t talk a lot, he gets straight to the point. he doesn’t beat around the bushes, nor stutter. he doesn’t know those terms.

“i’d love it if you actually show it, yeosang.”

her words definitely hurt his pride. his jaw clenched, sitting up properly to engage in the conversation more. yeosang began formulating his words carefully, he didn’t want this simple conversation turn into a wrathful argument. that was the last thing he wanted.

“how do you feel about me?” yeosang asked, taking his chopstick and began playing with his noodles, eyes never leaving her face. he wanted to kiss her and show her how much she meant to him, but he knew it wasn’t the right time.

“if i could use the right word,” she started. “i’d use addicted.”

he smiled. “surely you can’t be that-”

“addicted to you,” y/n cut in. his smile immediately fell from the highest place the corner of his lips reached. he knew she fell deep for him. “to your eyes. your lips. the way you smell and the way you talk. the way you hold me- yeosang, i can’t help it! and it doesn’t help that you don’t return anything to me. how long has it been since you kissed me? held my hand and took me out?”

and it made him question, when was the last time? has he really been lacking that much? he couldn’t say any more.

“if only.. you could tell me,” she said, voice beginning to crack down from its normal state. this triggered yeosang and his body shot up, feet walking around to get to her and he embraced her. he didn’t want her to cry because of him. not anymore. “what did i ever do wrong-”

“no, you did nothing wrong,” yeosang said, his hands cupping her cheeks. it broke his heart seeing how his girlfriend was crying in front of him, how her eyes looked to glossy and fragile. it broke his heart knowing he was the reason for these tears. “i’m doing everything wrong.”

and the second she felt his thumbs wipe away her beads of tears, her tensed shoulders relaxed. yeosang grabbed both of her hands, leading her to the couch. he sat down, hands still linked and he guided her to his lap, wanting to feel close as they talk. it was as if his hands never left her face, attaching themselves to the skin of her cheeks. he looked at her with so much love in his eyes, and it was the first time y/n ever saw such eyes from yeosang.

her hands both clasped around his wrist, watery eyes meeting his gazing ones. the icy look in his eyes have left, they were replaced by the galaxy and love hearts. she wished he could look at her more with those eyes, she became addicted to how they make her feel and how they look.

“i’m sorry,” he said, voice soft as the pillows they use every day and every night. “i took you for granted.. and i shouldn’t be taking you for granted.”

she wanted to say something, but didn’t know what.

“i don’t think i ever told you this,” he added, making her heart skip a few beats at a time. he took his time waiting for the right second to say what he was going to say, just to see how she would react to it. her fingers wrapped themselves tighter against his pale skin, and it made him chuckle. “baby, what are you doing?”

of course, the nickname and his concern of what she was doing to his skin was new. y/n never heard of such nickname leave his mouth, and the fact that he called her baby was something new. “n-nothing..”

“as i was saying,” he said, his hand dropping from her cheek to her side, resting just inches from the top of her thighs. his eyes travelled from her face to his hand and back up to her face. “i don’t think i ever told you i love you.”

that did it. her heart exploded in many directions and her face began to heat up. y/n was certain she must have looked super insane on his lap and basically having a heart attack. but her face remained stoic.

yeosang simply smiled, leaning up to her face to press and gentle kiss. it was long, and sweet. and for the first time, it sent electricity down their spines. the spark was so strong it made y/n shiver, and this made yeosang let out a laugh. “so adorable.”

“i.. i love you too,” she said, eyes meeting his and now she couldn’t look away.

“i know. let’s go and eat our food.”

[lavendcr]

Fanfic of Elsa & Anna talking about the seperation.

disney kinda threw the seperation in our faces so i decided to write out a little more interation between the sisters about the topic. angst. basically me using this to release my frustration about the ending.

set during the beach scene near the end of Frozen 2.

"A bridge has two sides, and mother had two daughters.."

Elsa looked at her with a timid gaze. She looked as if she wanted to speak, but was holding back, afraid, as she had always been. Anna knew Elsa never spoke her mind, not even revealing her true feelings to her own sister, much to Annas dismay. Sometimes she thought she was too vocal with Elsa, and worried she was on the brink of aggravating her beloved kin. This time, Anna kept quiet, waiting for Elsa's words to finally make themselves known.

She cupped Anna's hands in her delicate, yet frigid, fingers, giving them a squeeze as she uttered the next words Anna longed to hear--

"This is my place, Anna. I need to stay."

Silence.

Anna simply stared at her with a blank expression, not fully taking in the words.

Stay?

"I belong here." Elsa continued, carefully, watching Anna's expression with a hard look, as if worried she would lash out any second now.

Anna couldn't comprehend what Elsa was saying. It was as if someone had thrown all her braincells into a jumble. That sentence had sent her spiraling down the dark part of memory lane, back to their last adventure. Elsa had said the exact same thing when she insisted upon remaining in her ice fortress, wanting to simply exist for the rest of time, alone.

Since then, Anna had grown extremely close to Elsa. They werent alone anymore, Anna had saved Elsa from the torment she felt from her powers. They were each others number one in life, putting each other before themselves. They trusted one another, they looked out for one another--They needed each other.

Or maybe it was one-sided all along.

Finally, this thought focused Anna's gaze onto her sisters angelic form, how etheral her appearance had turned since returning from the sea--riding the water spirit none the less--and everything seemed to suddenly click into place in her brain. Her stomach tightened with dread once she realized what she meant.

"What? No, no, Elsa--You have to come back to Arendelle with me." Anna spoke frantically, tightening her grip on her sisters fingers. Elsa immediately furrowed her brow, recoiling back into herself like she always did when they argued. She kept her shoulders tense as she spoke.

"I'm the connection between the forest and Arendelle, this is my duty." She spoke sternly, the queenly manner she had obtained over the last three years beginning to poke through her goddess like facade.

"But--But what about Arendelle? You're the queen!" Anna exclaimed, shaking her head.

"Well...I think you'd be perfect to take my place."

That stopped Anna dead in her tracks.

Queen of Arendelle?

It felt like all the air had been sucked out of her lungs. Anna never thought she would get to be queen. She always assumed Elsa would be queen until they both died of old age. Anna was content being the princess. She had authority, the respect of her people. She was involved in decision making, she wasnt overlooked or discarded like she had been for so many years. With Elsa as ruler, Anna had a say, but she still had the freedom to do as she pleased. She could enjoy her youth, be free to play, dance, explore. Anna, although she hated to admit it, wasnt the most mature of the royal family. She liked to eat chocolates, write fairytale stories, and bask in the noon-day sun. She wasn't sure she would be able to give up all her freedom for a life of chained responsibility. She loved Arendelle, she loved her subjects, but how could she be expected to become queen so suddenly?

Elsa fit the role better than she ever could.

"Me..? Queen?"

"You'd make a wonderful one."

"I..I can't! Im not ready!"

"You are. Look what you did for your people today. You have the heart of a true queen."

"I can't!" She repeated, harsher.

"I know you have this in you. You are wise beyond your years, determined to do whats right, and so very loyal."

"No!" Anna shouted. Elsa stared at her with wide eyes. It seemed that every sound in the forest had silenced after her outburst.

Elsa sighed, bringing her hands up to rest on Anna's shoulders. She didn't feel as cold as she usually did, her hands felt soft against Annas collarbone, and the presence of her sisters hands gave her comfort, but it couldnt stop the resentment from bubbling inside her chest--the anger she felt for her sister springing this on her--the terror she had deep down.

"Anna." She said quietly, looking down at her sibling with a soft expression, one that knew of Anna's true concerns, what was truly in her heart.

"I can't..." Anna mouthed, staring up at her. She had never felt so small in her life.

Anna couldnt stop the tears from forming in her eyes, obscuring her vision. Elsa was just a hazy blur of white at this point.

"Not without you."

Elsa nodded knowingly. She knew all along what Anna truly felt. She knew Anna like the back of her hand, she knew every worry--every thought that invaded her mind. She could guess everything Anna was thinking. It was a part of the unique bond they shared.

The thought of that bond being taken away, the thought of Anna being alone again, the thought of that big empty building with nothing but reminders of what once was...

That was enough to make Anna break. Just like she had when she assumed Elsa was dead.

Sure, she had Kristoff, but nothing could mend the loss of family. It just wasnt the same. It felt like Anna was losing half of her identity. Her sister was a part of her.

"I will always be there for you." Elsa said quietly, pressing her forehead against Anna's, trying to show Anna how close they were, how she was still there, she was real.

Anna began to sob, pressing her hand against her mouth to stifle the sound. This was all too much, too fast. She felt like she was experiencing an entire lifetime of events in an instant and she didnt know how to handle it.

"Its only a short ride away. Arendelle is so close, and--" Elsa's words were cut off but a loud wail from Anna. She didn't attempt to continue, knowing she could possibly make things worse. Instead, she moved her head to rest on Annas shoulder.

"Im here." Elsa continued, wrapping her hands around Anna's waist in a tight embrace.

Anna let it happen, but she did nothing to return the gesture. Anna was angry. She was angry at the voice that had drawn Elsa away. She was angry that her sister had been turned into one of the spirits. She was angry that they would be seperated. She was angry everything was changing.

But she also knew Elsa's heart.

Anna knew the struggle she had been through, the evolution of her powers. She knew how much Elsa had to hide, had to fear, had to hate herself. She knew that this is what Elsa wanted. All she wanted was to be free. To finally be free.

So, Anna let her hand drop. She hugged her sister, and she told her what she needed to hear.

"We'll see each other soon."

She could feel Elsa smiling, the way her cheeks tightened against Anna's hair. She could feel the icy frost of Elsas fingertips tingling against her back.

Anna was glad Elsa was happy. She was glad Elsa would be free. She was happy for her, and the journey of self-discovery she had been on. She was glad Elsa found herself.

But Anna never felt more lost.

°°°

[emeraldtawny]

Yoooo I read some of your stories and um yes i like them, they are great. Since your requests are open can I request Zero and a shy MC kissing by the Lake of Tears because zero looooooooovvvvvveeeeeeesssss herrrr and she says something cuuuuttteee :3 ThANkS btw I LIKE YOUR WRITING LOL and i'm nervous to send this lmbo srry if im cringey

A….a response? Someone sent a prompt?! HOly–wow, okay um…this is actually happening, cool, awesome, I am totally not dying no ma’am!

⚆ _ ⚆

For real though, thank you so much for the request my dear~! You’re so sweet and please don’t feel nervous about sending in asks because if it’s any consolation I cannot stop smiling right now :3 I hope you like it and hope you have a good rest of your day/night!

~

The forest on the outskirts of Cradle and its mysterious aura has always calmed you, the beautiful glittering of wild Magic Crystals and the ever-present spark of magic in the air. It’s made even better as you’re walking peacefully through the forest with Zero, his strong hand holding your own with a gentleness that would seem unusual to anyone who didn’t know how sweet he is.

You keep quiet through the walk, enjoying the scenery and occasionally sneaking glances at Zero. He catches you staring and tilts his head towards you and you immediately look away in embarrassment, your cheeks resembling cherries despite your best efforts. You see the beatific smile on his lips in your peripheral vision, doing no favours for your burning cheeks.

After a while, you become curious as to where Zero is taking you. You break your silence.

“Um, Zero? Where are you taking us, exactly?”

“You’ll see. We’re almost there.”

That’s a surprisingly cryptic response for him, but him squeezing your hand dispels the tiny doubts in your mind. Then, the thicket of trees breaks and you emerge to a place you recognise immediately. The ethereal glow of the Magic Crystals dance across the lake’s surface, the trees and shrubs surrounding the water’s edge tinged with the same luminescent bright blue glow. Blue sparks of barely manifested magic float aimlessly through the air, bouncing with the water’s surface tension and adorning any greenery that interrupts its path.

You gasp softly under your breath, forever awed by the majesty of the Lake of Tears, with Zero watching you with a content smile on his face.

“I didn’t realise we were coming here. I usually take a different path to get here so I didn’t recognise it.”

Zero simply grins, pulling you along to sit on the bank of the lake, your bodies now appearing to glow with the surrounding crystals. “I remember you mentioning how much you love this place, so I thought it would be nice to come here and just relax for a bit.”

You still have no idea how Zero always seems to pick up on the tiniest nuances of how you’re feeling, but you’re eternally grateful and you truly love him for it. You smile shyly at the thought, shuffling closer to lean your head on Zero’s shoulder. He releases your hand to wrap it loosely around your waist, just as an excuse to touch you. You don’t know where you get the sudden confidence from, but you decide to voice your thoughts aloud.

“You know, the Lake of Tears kind of reminds me of you, in a way.”

You feel Zero’s shoulder tense slightly but is otherwise unresponsive. After a moment to recollect his calm, he speaks, “Oh? In what way?”

“These crystals glow and refract light in such a beautiful way that I’m left almost spellbound by their beauty. The blue glow is always go calming and I always feel at ease around them. You’re very similar because you make me feel calm and safe;” You smile, almost certain that your whole face is beet red. “Also, your eyes are just as pretty as these Magic Crystals, so I guess maybe that’s why I like them so much.”

Your words fade, unconfident in yourself to continue from his lack of response. His hand on your waist tightens slightly and you feel his other hand gently grab your chin to raise it from his shoulder and tilt towards his own face. You forget to breathe looking at Zero’s expression, his cheeks dusted with a blush that stretches up to his ears, the unconditional love flowing in his slightly wide-eyed gaze as he stares at you; you’re completely beguiled by him, and him you. The bright blue glow of the crystals reflects in Zero’s darker blue irises, the myriad of sparkles in his eyes completely enamouring to you. He leans in closer, your body unable to move as his lips ghost out a breath over your own, mere millimetres apart.

“You can’t just say adorable things like that out of nowhere. I think I love you too much.”

The gentle pull of his hand on your waist closes the remaining distance between your lips, your nerves dissipating instantly with his deep kiss. He pulls back letting you take a breath before he seeks your lips out again, this kiss softer, longer, the amount of love in his lips pressed to yours unquantifiable with words alone. His free hand reaches up to trace his fingertips over your burning cheeks, eliciting a soft gasp from you that’s swallowed by the kiss. You don’t move, afraid that if you do, the magic will be broken and this incredible feeling will end.

You have no idea how much time passes when Zero reluctantly pulled his lips from yours. Your eyes remain locked, both yours and Zero’s eyes and cheeks heated and the tips of your noses touching. Zero hums out a short laugh, the smile on his face glowing brighter than the crystals around you. He rubs his nose against yours in a sweet eskimo kiss, his hair brushing over your now closed eyelids as you laugh with him in bliss.

“You talk about being spellbound without having any idea of the hold you have on me.” He keeps his voice low, a whisper for your ears only. “There is one thing I disagree with, though.”

“What’s that?” You breathe out.

He grins, the subtle glimmer of desire in his eyes not lost to you. “You don’t always make me feel calm. Like right now, I feel like I’m losing my mind over you.”

Your brain flatlines, attempting to form a response. Zero’s grin somehow widens and he leans in for another kiss, the incandescent glow of the Magic Crystals around you not holding a candle to the radiance that is your love for each other.

[crimsonclove]

Rowan

Her feet don’t touch the floor. Her hair is too close to the color of the harvest moon. Eyes are much too gold instead of the green of her people. Of what should be her people.

Father is burly and dark as well as her brothers, her mother and sisters are fair skinned with eyes like the northern seas of blue. She simply does not belong.

A changeling she has been told since before she could long remember is what her true roots are. She was the youngest and handled in the most brutal of ways for mere survival.

A cold burst of air travels through the open window as she stares at the stars. She is seven Autumns old and all she wants is to be loved, to be part of something that her soul calls out for. If she has one…

A wail in the night brings her to straddle the window sill her father of sorts built in their home. Four rooms, a common space, and a side kitchen where mother and sisters prepare food. She is not allowed to help for fear of contaminating anything. There is a creak from where her brothers sleep and her heart begins to run as the pounding of hooves. There are not many reasons for the wood to disturb the night unless there is a bed becoming empty.

Her ears try to follow the sound of rough feet cross the dirt floor. Gold eyes in the night reflecting the moon’s beams to help her see as she throws her other leg out the window. There beyond the garden, deep into the trees she could hide; she could run and be free and never again have to feel things a child should not.

Her fingers tremble and she is unaware that her nails shape into talons, or that her eyes grow bright. Mouth open she pants in her fear, adrenaline coursing into her being. She cannot take anymore nights of pain thrust upon her, of words the next day like knives across her back. Everyone knows and none stop it. The wind raises up and there is electricity in the air.

Dark hair and eyes appear just inside the doorway. His eyes are adjusting to the darkness still, but he knows his way and briefly she is unsure why he has stopped and is staring at her. She is small, worthless, frail. But his eyes take her in, she is ethereal and dangerous. Her moonlit hair turns blue in the night, eyes sharp as an eastern tigers, nails that are halfway dug into the wood sill.

Lightning strikes behind her into a tree and it sparks to life. Her eyes take in his shaken state and read the fear seeping from him. She is not sure how she should feel about this. No one has ever been afraid of her before.

The crash of thunder rolling wakens her sisters around her. The two of them crowding into bed at the mere sight of their little sister.

“Mamma! Papa!” They scream into the darkness. The girl listens keenly to the house move and groan at the weight of her family. Of what is supposed to be her family.

She shakes at the sight of her parents. Her brothers crowd into the room with the others. There are five children staring at her older than herself.

“Monster! Demon! Fairy! Get it away! Burn it!”

Nothing she has not heard before. But this time something inside of her breaks as her father reaches to grab at her.

Something unholy climbs from her stomach and into her heart where it mixes with sadness, rage, disgust and the power she was born with.

Her eyes dilate, her hear beat rises, the blood pounds in her ears till all she hears is the faint echo of the storm outside. Red coats her vision as her father is a hairs breath from her. Every conscious thought has fled from her mind besides vengeance, survival, and thirst.

Fingers curl around her fathers wrist and tighten. Her mother screams at the snap that reverberates. Her father howls but tries to snatch at her again. Again she snaps his other wrist and brings him into his own rage.

She is blind to her inner beast that has taken hold. Blind to the storm spreading the fire from tree, to grass, to garden, to the fence connected to the home they have lived in for however many years.

Seven years of neglect, abuse, and raw need is released into the atmosphere and into her father as others are to stunned to help. Her sisters run with their mother to try and get the neighbors, but they are stopped by the roaring flames.

Her brothers try to help their father that she has left broken handed, with arms torn to shreds and bite marks across his legs.

May he feel the burn of her heart as her head begins to clear.

Blood drips down her fingers and mixes with the dirt.

Something very old, very powerful, and twisted speaks through her.

“By your blood you are cursed to never leave, or sleep. May the sun you take pride in cause you to burn in your keep. The child brought to you has been broken by your hands. You will live without time and in agony for as long as she plans.”

Smoke filtered through the windows as the little girl climbed fully out the window and raced into the woods. The flames parting for her.

///

Feet dangling from a birch tree she hummed the song taught to her by the vines that sway in the wind.

Once her heart had been black, but now it was rooted deep with moss. Her fingers clutching a foxglove she stopped her humming.

Near by was a river that ran constant and true. Birds quieted around her, a squirrel dashed up into its hiding place.

Stretching high her long limbs carried her into the safety of foliage.

It had been years she had fled, farther than she imagined. Waiting, wondering, becoming one with nature around her.

Surprises led her away from civilization for a while. From people like her. But she found her way back. She had to eventually. A girl who does not age simply does not exist in the new world.

Wood twigs snapped into her heart, echoing as nature stood still for a moment.

A spider paused before continuing it's silken web above her head. She tried to stretch her ears, let the earth and all its surrounding living arms tell her what was below.

Her eyes turned dark, hunter green, pupils searching through as she connected. Her fingers tight around a branch, feet steady.

Two men, two women, familiar in their appearance. Maybe like her own. Talking softly and im good humor.

"George! Why on earth are we here!"

"To find this old witch. This is ilmatar or some such creature! Come on, where is your sense of adventure. It's told she had been banished long ago."

"I lost it the last time you took us all out for some silly fairy tale. You cant really believe in all this, such nonsense."

"I'll bet he finds nothing but a spider as he runs into it."

"Wait. I thoughts everyone loved magic....Why would the banish some witch and keep the rest? I mean mother always said grandfather had the best magic wielders at his balls."

"Oh please. Magic is so hard to come by. I must agree. Every one who has the talent is accounted for. I dont believe a word of their being some witch nonsense out here."

"And if there is?"

"Then I will profess my love and marry you at once! "

Laughter like bells tormented her ears, slight tips twitching. Her vision returning to herself she let the foxglove drop upon one of their heads as they walked below her. Her silver hair absorbing the sun, her skin fair darkening softly, her gold eyes changing to a soft mossy green.

The man below whose head had been attacked by a flower looked up and caught sight of her foot, one of the women laughing at him.

"Hello?" He called out. "Hello?" The girl shifted down to the last hanging branch just out of their reach head dipped low, lashes bowed gracefully. The other females cooed while the other man seemed thoughtful.

"Henry is my name l, girl. Who are you and what are you doing so far on your own?"

The girl blinked at the man and sat on the branch, shrugging her shoulders she wiggled her finger at them.

"I am called..." She started. What was her name? She couldn't remember those who raised her ever giving her one. But the forst creatures, the wind, the mother earth and father sky.... they had called her Witchling in her heart. A chipmunk scuttled by and chittered. Distracted momentarily by him she giggled before turning back to the expectant adults, her eyes catching a rowan tree.

"You are called ...?" Henry questioned.

"Rowan. I am called Rowan."

One of the woman looked at her.

"My dear girl. You look like a wild child. What is it you are doing out here?" Rowan blinked at the female and stood up quickly, jumping down from the tree and landing as graceful as her lynx friends; the forest blared to life as her feet touched the ground.

"Why! Playing of course!" She giggled as birds twittered over head.oh she had wanted to play. Maybe toy with them as they truly didnt believe in the ruling gods and spirits. No one ever looks for a child witch.

The adults looked at each other oddly. The girl must be wild, or had hit her head, surely.

"Rowan. Where are your parents?"

A gust of wind pushed the adults towards her, she could not help herself at that.

"Why does everyone assume...." She twirled her fingers through her hair, watching leaves fall around the four. "Why do they assume that I am without my parents now?"

The surrounding leaves sunk leaving an empty moat around them.

"Well then, where are they? You should be at home or with a chaperone at the least." The other female stated and took a few steps towards her before getting her foot stuck in the sinking moat.

"Oh heavens! What is this?! Robert, help!" The other man went to help the woman out but hesitated at the womans scream. A hand had shot out and grasped the womans ankle pulling her.

Rowans eyes began to swirl with gold hues.

The four began to panic. She could taste it in the air.

The animals above her began to squal, hoot, sing in cadence with her heart beat. The darkness welling inside her. Her skin lightened into moonlight, her hair fading as clouds began to roll.

Four pairs of eyes turned to her as feral animals surrounded them. A hand raised from the depths of the earth.

Roawn could feel her blood run thick and the edges of her vision grew red.

When was the last time death had filled her?

"You came looking for a witch here, man from beyond the edge. Let me show you what happens when you cross forbidden lines." Darkness over took as she curled her feet into the dirt. Hands dug from beneath and bodies stood before the ring. Not mindless creatures but still the same that she had burned so long ago.

"If you would like to meet my parents, they would be so glad to take you home for dinner..."

Rowan squealed in delight as the two men tried to fight and the women screamed. Chaos ensued as she approached them all. Her hair raising in the wind, eyes bright as the stars, her nails raked across one of the females arm watching the blood rise. Rowan stared at the crimsom coating her nail before grinning wickedly and running her tongue over the sharp edge. The taste of iron engulfed her senses.

"Beware the witch, the spirits, the gods." Rowan backed away as those that were once her living heathen family tore the group apart. She relished in their screams.

Animals cleaned up what was left over as her father and mother tried to approach her.

She hissed at them and then growled.

"People come to the forest to prove me wrong. Go. Show them why they should fear this place again. It's been too long."

Without pause they turned, her parents and siblings, animals wild teeth bloodied in hunger.

It had obviously been too long that people didnt realize what a true witch was and that at least one still existed.

Oh they would be reminded, she thought. Even if she had to tear down the world till her death.

[shioune]

kinds of love ; a hideyoshi fic

KINDS OF LOVE - a fanfic RATING: mature, contains smut SUMMARY: francisco and luis introduced a certain lord to a world of lingeries and an interesting night followed. A/N: not historically accurate lbr here. my hand slipped while answering this hc ask bc im a hidetrash™ and somehow this got made.

He was crazy about it.  He had to admit, he spent quite a bit more time on these…lingeries than Mitsunari and Hanbei would like him to after he found out about it from Francisco and Luis. And as his hands touched piece after piece from the pile that the two foreigner had so kindly brought for him, he couldn’t help but imagining it on the pearly skin of a certain someone. 

Even her breathe couldn’t hide how nervous she was. She wanted to scold herself for being so transparent. Even a person with half the perception Hideyoshi had would be able to tell that she’s so so terribly nervous about all this. Her fingers skimmed the material – a softness so smooth, she’d never felt anything like it before. Lace, wasn’t it? She recalled that was what Hideyoshi called it when he gave it to her. She never knew white could be such a lovely color. A sigh escaped her lips as she brought the fabric up to her face, feeling it with the skin of her cheeks before she sighed yet again into it. For something so pretty, it really was very tiny. Her face went up in flames as she thought just how exposed she would in it. She would even swear on her ancestors that her heart nearly stopped when she saw the lone ribbon that’s supposed to go...where exactly? Shaking her head, she resolved herself. She told him she’d wear it, so she would – and after all, seeing the smile on his face would certainly be something that she would enjoy herself. A shy, soft grin made its way to her face as she thought of his bright smile – dare she say as bright as the sun itself? Oh, she dared, for it’s nothing but the truth. “Lo-lord Hideyoshi, this barely covers anything…” came her voice, timid as he imagined it to be. The candle by the side of the room lit her in an almost ethereal glow and he beckoned her to come closer. But she couldn’t. Try as she might, her feet just wouldn’t move. Afraid that the pieces of clothing would fall apart and leave her naked to his eyes if she moved even if it’s just by an inch. Somehow, this was more embarassing than being naked altogether. And yet, somehow this also made her heart flutter more than usual. Was it the look in his eyes? Somehow darker than usual, colored with the desire to claim her again, desire than she could so visibly saw. He closed the distance between them himself, a low chuckle as he kept transfixing his eyes on her. She was red to her ears – the same hue that painted her cheeks and all the way down to her neck. He couldn’t help but whispering the word, “adorable” as he let his hand hover over her and his grin only widened when the flush of her skin took a deeper color at his murmured words. only for her ears to hear. Like a secret just for the two of them.  Twiddling fingers, feet that couldn’t stand still – she was nervous alright, but the warmth of his hand that nearly touched her but didn’t, the heat of his gaze that seemed to envelope her whole – they were all too much. He always liked to do that, tease her like this when all she ever wanted was for him to take her in his arms. This sweet torture was simply unbearable for her, but she didn’t dare speak of it. And she was sure, a man such as him could probably tell what she was thinking and what she wanted from the shifty gazes of her eyes, hidden behind thick lashes and following his every movement. “I think it covers just enough.” He leaned down to whisper on her hear and she shuddered at his voice. Laced with a huskiness she knew so well, a tone only reserved for when they were alone (and with him, sometimes it’s not even behind closed doors). He licked his lips as he noticed the response her body gave him, his heart full with adoration, his eyes full with love. She was too much and Hideyoshi was surprised at how he could control himself around her most of the time and especially right now – when she’s clad in something such as this. Something that titillate him so, urging him to take her on a dangerous dance of passion. And then he finally touched her, skin on skin and she felt like the lick of flame herself. His hand started to dance across her skin, “And, you did put it on for me after all, didn’t you? Thank you. I appreciate that.” She expected a ruffle on her head as usual, something that always followed whenever he said those words that always brightened up her day. But it never came. Instead, a nip at her ear – the feeling of his words, hot on her ears and his lips, soft and tied a knot in her stomach. His actions, his words, his kisses and his touches – they always elicit a soft gasp out of her and this time was no different. He made her weak in the knee and she held on to him for support, half hiding her face with his clothing wishing she could hide her whole body in it instead, exposed as she was. But a small part of her didn’t mind it, didn’t mind how his eyes swept every detail of her body – every curve and every turn.  Hideyoshi took his lady in his arms, pushing her down gently to the bedding they now shared together. His finger trailed the string of pearls all the way down until they disappeared between her breasts, the same wickedly teasing smile on his face before he leaned down to kiss her lips and her eyes fluttered into a close. His name the last thing she breathed out before he showered her in kisses. ”Lord Hideyoshi– wa–” wait she wanted to say, her heart’s a thumping mess and her skin’s on fire. Her body? It’s feeling tingles she’s never felt before. And his hands were on hers, tracing the laces that covered the softness of her breasts, playing with her nipples that’s barely covered and her mind went blank and her words turned into breathy moans. His other hand travelled down, the heat that permeated through his hand to her stomach, burning a fire in her loins, a passion inside her heart. “Shush now, the night is still long and...we wouldn’t want anyone to know what we’re up to, now do we?” There was an almost boyish mischief in the way his eyes twinkled and in the way he said those words and the stark contrast of what his fingers were doing to her made her pout.  “You’re unfair, Milord! Unfair!” He only laughed at her retort. It was always like this between them, shared laughter in the midst of their ardor. She didn’t know if this was normal – if this was the kind of conversations one had while being so intimate with each other, but this was the only normal she knew and she wouldn’t trade it for anything else. He captured her lips within his again as his hand went to her rear, lifting her up just slightly and she yielded to him, moving her body towards him, feeling their skin touched where his kimono had been pushed off. He groaned at the contact. He wanted more. She wanted more. But it’s nice to wait for a while, reward only came to those who were patient enough after all, he thought with a the same mischievous grin.  Lips trailing down to trace kisses on her jawline, leaving butterfly kisses that descended down, down, down. Her breathing was now a mess of irregular pants. His hand, a brush and her skin the canvas and he drew the story of them on her. She mewled and she pulled his clothing all the way off. Her own fingers running down his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart that almost matched her own. “Oh, Lord Hideyoshi...” His name whispered through a smile before she took a sharp intake of breathe as she felt him taking her nipple in his mouth, his other hand pulling at the lone ribbon between her ass, the fabric of her lower garment brushing against her clit, sending surges of pleasure throughout her body. ”Hmm?” He was unfair, how he could kept that smile on his face and how his voice stayed calm when she’s rendered into this flushed, moaning mess and she pulled her face towards her, placing sloppy kisses on his face –– she could manage no more. Not when her brain felt like it’s been melted into a puddle. He chuckled through her kisses, he liked it like this, this honest love that he shared. He could almost feel what she’s feeling through her kisses, through her touches, the way she held him and caressed his skin. And he loved nothing more than it. Hideyoshi pulled at the ribbon, taking the garment off of her. As pretty as it was, it needed to go. Taking one rosy bud in one hand, his finger brushed against it, pulled on it and she arched her back in response, her hand flying away from him to cover her lips. She never did trust herself with her voice, no matter how many times he told her to just let it out. “Raise your hips for me.” He whispered into her skin, and she shuddered at the sensation of his voice. She was too sensitive, the embarrassment that came as a veil with the lingeries he provided somehow made everything she felt twice the usual. She raised her hips and felt the fabric being slipped off her, her legs raising almost automatically before she threw it away. His finger on her, in her, touching her all over. It was not the first time he’s touched her but it always felt as if it was. The newfound discovery for him, looking at how he could give her more pleasure. And him, oh for her, every time felt like the first time, the way he lit her body on fire. “Take me.” She breathed out, eyes hazy and face flushed, as she moved her body, pressing herself against him, “please?” He was silent for a moment, staring down at her, before he let out an almost frustrated groan that dissipated into a quiet laughter. Plans to tease her even further thrown out of the doors the moment she asked him with such honesty. “Oh, I really am weak for you, huh?” He pressed another kiss on her forehead. Hideyoshi eased in into her and she whimpered as she felt the thickness of his cock inside her. Her hands pulled him closer and she raised her hips to meet his, as if the closeness that they shared weren’t enough, as if she wanted to close the distance between them even more. His name sung into a moan, the only time she’d drop the formalities and titles, as she felt him sliding out slowly, only to slam back in again. His fingers dug into her skin, faint bruises that would sure to bloom in the morning, just like the ones he left with his kisses.  His own voice stuck behind his throat, a low groan escaped his lips every time he thrust inside her, feeling how her walls clenched in around him, how her fingers cling to his back as she buried her face in him. Hideyoshi parted her lips into a kiss, his tongue once again engaged in a dance with hers – a battle for dominance she soon relinquished – and before he pulled away he let himself trace the shape of her swollen lips. “Don’t bite your lips, please.” His voice was hoarser than usual, “Let me hear your voice.” Always knowing what to say, always knowing what to do, always knowing how to make her come undone. Unfair. How unfair. She whined inside her mind and clung to him even closer, whimpering as she felt him rolled his hips and painted stars in her head. Her voice slowly coming out, louder than before, sweeter and sweeter by each second as he once again let his hand touched her skin, spreading the fire deep within her as he rubbed on her nippled and kissed her ears.  Each thrust brought them closer and closer. She clamped down on him as his pace grew more frantic and more desperate. A dizzying sensation took over her body, a wave of pleasure crashing in on her and took her to another level until she could see nothing but white in her head. Then she felt herself coming undone. Felt him coming undone inside her, releasing his seeds into her. She held him close still, his weight a comfort to her. They were so close to each other, where one began and where one ended, she couldn’t tell anymore. She wanted to melt into him, to become one with him. And as she held his face in her hands, she kissed him deeply, hoping this feelings that couldn’t be translated into words would somehow flew into him.  Kisses on his lips. Her heart in his. Her eyelids fluttered open as she smiled up at him. “Hey...? I love you a lot.” Hideyoshi smiled back, warmth and affection in it, “Well I love you more.” He rolled himself so that she’s on top of him, hand raking through her hair as she pressed a kiss on her forehead, laughing when again, she slapped him lightly on his chest just like she always did. “No, I love you more!” A giggle and mirth in her eyes as their laughter carried into the night. She didn’t know what love was like for other people. She didn’t know if they laughed as much as she did upon making love with their loved ones. But she hoped they did.  Because for her, it’s the best kind.

it’s done!! my first slbp fic contribution!! and it turned out to be a smut ; u ; i’m so sorry everyone sobs. if you enjoy this, check out my other works? u w u obligatory tag to @amigoingbananas

[summoner-kentauris]

ive posted bits and pieces of this before but i dont think the whole thing? honestly this one was an excuse to write about gjöll (hríds icy sword). anna and hríd fight. i cant remember what zacharias was said to ahve done in this. apparently pretty bad tho. either zacharias got himself into some serious shit or i was decided to write slightly darker askrans than usual. anyway im imagining i was at the peak of my make your characters flawed kick when i was doing this. which is a good thing to do but still.

-

Hrid is a prince of Nifl, and as such, he is trained to handle, address, and resolve diplomatic occurrences.

He is trained to do these things and, as such, people will occasionally fly to him with desperate concerns, panicked and seeking any kind of help they can get.

They are usually desperate.

Hrid is trained and also Hrid, and as such, people have almost entirely stopped relying on him for diplomacy.

It doesn’t bother him. He's good at other things, and besides, it means he is hardly ever disturbed while he’s focused on training, or fighting, or just staring out across Nifl and wondering how long it might take to talk to furthest twisted frozen ice geyser (four hours).

For example, sleeping. Hríd enjoys sleeping. At least, so long as the ancient echoes of Nifl aren't twisting around and ghosting along his spine and leaving him cold inside, like light sheets of veiled snow. Other than that, sleep ranks pretty high on Hríd’s list of things he, generally speaking, enjoys. It’s another thing that rarely happens in Nifl, what with court this, and regency that, and emergency so and so. Askr's supposed to be different.

And oh boy, is it.

He is both woken up, and asked for diplomatic help at the same time.

He comes to shot through with alarm and adrenaline, and deep sleep confusion. Are his arms attached to him? He pats himself – they are – thinks he’s gone blind for a moment and then realizes it’s night and his eyes are closed. Someone - not him - makes a noise, so he rolls out of bed and snatches his sword and hits the ground with his hand wrapped tight around Gjöll. He's grabbed the blade without thinking, and a protective cover of ice instinctively spreads up between the sleep warm skin of his palm and the deathly sharp edge of blade’s ice surface. It’s a part of him, in an instant, he can almost feel the disbalance in the air making the blade hover and waver slightly, minute adjustments to a threat the part of his head that’s still mostly asleep hasn’t even begun to recognize yet.

He’s not blind, it occurs to him. He just still has his eyes closed.

He opens them – closes them again because the moon is terribly, horribly blue bright tonight, and then snaps them back open.

Sharena is crying at the foot of his bed.

He can’t really hear her, yet. Somewhere, buried far in his dreams like ancient ruins under centuries of avalanche, somewhere in his dreams ancient echoes of Nifl are still twisting around his deepest fears – or maybe someone else's. All he remembers is the ice slick body of the dragon, screaming in the face of something unthinkable.

Sharena chokes back another sob, and the dream fragment leaves as if it has never been. It’s replaced by sound, the breaking, halting, jagged sound of Sharena, fighting her way through breathing.

“I – can’t – find – Anna – so,” she says, trying to wipe back tears and push away falling hair.

She’s got her lance. She’s in pajamas and she’s got her lance and the two things don’t fit together in Hríd’s head.

“Please,” she says, “They- he-”

It clicks.

Emergency situation requiring diplomacy.

“I think-” she says, her voice cracking in the middle, “I think... I think they might kill each other,” she says.

Emergency situation.

Requiring diplomacy (?)

-

They catch Anna on the way, Feh tangled up in her hair and hooting with more verve and anger than the time Anna stole the orb Feh likes to sit on.

Tell me what’s happening, Anna tries to demand.

Sharena, usually well in control of herself, can barely make it through I’ve never seen him yell before.

-

She’s right.

It is out of control.

I’ve never seen him yell before, she explained, as they dodged late night heroes stumbling around.

Better they should argue than resent each other, he said, but, he felt it nonetheless. A tangled, dragging down sense of dread that made his feet feel heavy. That made him want to run a little slower because the fear was, the yelling was most certainly not better. Unlike Sharena, Hríd has seen Alfonse angry. He’s been able to recognize the blinded fury that hid just out of sight of its owner, waiting until everything seemed lost to strike. Hríd had let the feeling take over once, had faced Surtr, had seen reflected there a fury burned beyond understanding, fury molten and melted into a new form, corrupted and snarling and evil.

Hríd had been afraid of himself ever since.

They said Alfonse had put Bruno to the sword once, without knowing who he also was. Leveled a divine weapon at the other because the part of himself that was blinded had told him this was right and just. They said Alfonse would have killed him, if Kiran hadn’t been there. They said it and expected Hríd to be surprised.

Hríd had been afraid for them both ever since.

Sharena drags Anna outside, through the summer cold night fields of Askran dustgrass, so tall and light he could have mistaken it for a light snow, if he’d been less awake than the sickness in his stomach is forcing him to be. The frost cover on his hand doesn’t break as he shifts his grip on his sword from the naked blade to the hilt. It simply melts and reforms, a defensive basket hilt of fractal crystals blooming around his knuckles of its own accord.

Sharena drags him outside despite the part of him that is unprepared to deal with the word crisis and despite the part of him that wants whatever is happening to not be happening. She drags him outside, and she is right to, because she’s telling the truth:

The situation is out of control.

Zacharias and Alfonse are on the top of one of the many rises of low hills that ease around the east side of the Askran castle capital. Zacharias falls over right when Sharena and Hrid get close enough to see. Goes down hard on his back, but doesn’t stop to check himself. He pushes himself backwards through the grass, one shaking hand trying to keep himself upright as he scoots away, the other in front of him, warding away Alfonse.

Who, like Sharena, has numerous visible tears running down his face.

Who, like Sharena, is armed. Fólkvangr is sheathed in a worn, casual leather affair, slung low on a belt that’s affixed around untidy, hastily-donned practice armor. Hríd recognizes it as basic gear that can be gotten from the least secure parts of the armory. He knows all the weak points. He’s scared to find a part of himself already calculating them out.

“EVERYTHING!” Alfonse screams. Both he and Zacharias are both breathing far too far hard. Hríd begins to understand why Sharena, who was there for everything in the war, said I’ve never seen him yell before.

“I FORGAVE YOU EVERYTHING! EVERYTHING! AND ALL THIS TIME-”

“Oh no...” Sharena says in a whisper. Her running falters, skips a step or two, slows. “He found out.”

She bolts.

Hríd runs after her.

“I never asked you for anything,” Alfonse says. The sudden return to a normal volume is all the more frightening to Hríd, as is the way Alfonse’s motions are loose and easy. He kneels beside Zacharias, the other man so tense it shows clearly in the way his high, tight shoulders strain at this shirt. Unlike everyone else present, he’s in full dayware. A complicated, Emblian thing with its many layers and ruffles that usually grace him perfectly, except today – tonight – it looks like it’s choking him. He has the tension of someone in pain, and when Alfonse gently places a hand on his face,the shudder that runs through him is awkward, and jagged.

“I never asked you for anything, and I forgave you everything.”

The hand Alfonse has on Zacharias’ face curls inward slightly. Hríd would think the gesture one of caring and kindness, except for the way it makes Zacharias' breath catch. Except for the way it makes the beginnings of a garbled pained groan struggle through Zacharias.

“I...can’t...” he manages. “I- nrgh- please.”

More tears pool in Alfonse’s eyes. “And you never cared, did you? You used me. You admitted it! I was just a weapon to destroy Embla. Just another weapon of war, just some other Folkvangr, some other Valaskjalf, some other Vigrithr…”

Zacharias shudders again. He pushes himself a few more inches away, but the two of them are connected by something Hríd has never, and likely, he thinks, will never understand. It’s hurting Zacharias. It’s as if Hríd can feel it, as if he can feel the forced-down, suppressed smoulder of the dark curse seething and clawing its way out of the ether.

It’s hurting. Alfonse’s hand is burning like the fire in Surtr’s eyes.

Hríd runs a little faster, makes it over one last banked slope and Anna beats him there.

She halts. Nóatún in her hand.

Sharena brightens, with the look of someone who has seen hope.

Hrid feels fear, but not his own.

“Anna, we’ve got to-” Sharena says, attempting to brush past her.

“Stop,” Anna commands. Her quiet voice rings nonetheless.

“I- What?”

“I told him,” Anna says, simply. It means something to Sharena, because she crumples back to the way she was before, when she first scrambled to find Hríd.

Up on the top of the hill, Alfonse has gotten even closer to Zacharias. If not for the way Zacharias keeps up a constant, increasingly weak attempt to back off, Alfonse would be cradling him by now.

“And when you told me...” he says, with a distance in his voice that’s not matched by the heartbreak in his eyes, “When you told me…that… but you never meant it. You couldn’t have. Not when… all this time, we… we could have…”

“I didn’t know,” Zacharias breaks in. His voice is hoarse, and strained with effort. The dark curse lurches unsteadily through him. It’s looking for a break in the armor, and oh, there are so many. Fighting is the art of reading someone and Hríd can read Zacharias so easily right now. He’s terrified. It’s shutting down his ability to move. Its tearing apart his ability to think. It’s begging him to drag Alfonse down on the ground beside him and straddle him and choke him to death before Anna and Sharena can do anything about it.

Hrid recoils, and then takes a step forward, and another, because he can do nothing else. It's out of control.

He walks straight into the flat of Nóatún, with enough force to stop him full on.

“NO,” Anna reiterates.

“Commander Anna,” Sharena protests, continuing an argument Hríd hadn’t been listening to. “With respect, Commander, you’re just wrong! I know him, he trained me! This isn’t right!”

Anna’s eyes narrow, and her stance shifts into one of preparation.

“With respect, Princess, we don’t have any other options.”

The debate rumbles on. Hríd looks down at Nóatún, blocking his path. A well cared for, polished, sharpened weapon that is flat against his torso. The ice on his own sword cracks like joints, clicking in preparation.

Resolving diplomatic situations, while an important part of his childhood training, had always been... well, pardon him, but a pain in the ass. Diplomacy was people, inventing tangles of mystery and half words, fermented concealed resentments, and admiration, and envy and needs. A dance in mist and fog. Lives on the line of every step.

He's never been good at creating diplomatic solutions.

Now, creating diplomatic problems...

Well.

He swings directly for the joint in the armor covering her right forearm. He can outfight most the Askrans even with one hand tied behind his back and the other sore and stiff with deep burn scars. On his worst day. In his worst life. This? Nóatún is so diplomatically placed with flat against his torso. She can’t bring the edge around fast enough to hurt him. Never mind that she's is distracted by Sharena’s debating, distracted enough that shes forgotten, for a second, that he wields with his left hand before his right.

He swings Gjöll and it cracks spectacularly against the seam at her elbow. The blade shatters into countless pieces, the haze of flak shredding through her cloth sleeves and the leather beneath. He keeps swinging, pivoting into the turn and backhanding her in perhaps the least court-sanctioned way to fight he knows how.

Her eyes widen a fraction. No one ever expects his training background.

She stumbles, and Nóatún slips from her numb hand. Still, she's sharp. She's pitched forward by the strike and unbalanced by the follow up but she’s sharp. She knows just how much he’s put into the attack so she snatches Fensalir from a shocked, still Sharena and uses it to re-balance herself in the precious second while he whirls around to face her, his sword re-coalescing into a smooth, flawless facet of crystalline ice as the fragments fly home, blood soaked.

Sharena covers her mouth, horrified.