#ship: flying too close to the sun

[fenricken]

You Keep Slipping From My Grasp 1/7

Ao3

Ship: Spirit Halloween

next

Summary:

Danny has been getting the hang of this whole “Ancient of Doors”, “Apprentice to Clockwork”, “Dad to the Chaos Gremlin Dani” thing, and he’s really starting to find his flow! Sure, he sometimes misses the life that could’ve been, but overall everything has been great! Sure doesn’t need anything throwing a tangle in things.

Bruce is suffering. He doesn’t know who he is, where he is, or what the hell is going on. All he’s running on is instinct and strange forces propelling him towards some end he’s not entirely certain of.

Basically, Danny tries to help Batman over the course of events covered in Batman:Return of Bruce Wayne

Chapter One:

“Clockwork? Are you here? I got your message.” Danny floated up the tower, peeking behind cogs and pendulums, hoping to find a glimpse of his teacher’s signature purple cloak.

It had been a long time since certain… events had led Danny to become a far more permanent resident of the Infinite Realms. Of course, he wasn’t alone, as much of Amity had also followed him here to carve out a new life all together, his friends and family included.

Danny had since reached maturity and been recognized as Ancient of Doors for his actions. When faced with his evil future self, he strove to find another path where he didn’t become that future self. When Dani was revealed to be with the enemy, he chose to love her still, rather than hate her as many would. When he was faced with a reality where he was famous, and accepted by his parents, he chose to undo all of that for the peace and safety of his friends and family. While he now knew his parent’s acceptance would always come, he still had to make the choice then to put his trust in them and reveal himself so his friends could be saved when the GIW came to destroy Amity Park. And so, for his commitment to forging new paths, always finding another choice, and braving the unknown he was named Ancient of Doors. 

Sam had also found her own mentor in Undergrowth, working hard as his apprentice to aid him in his duties as Ancient of Wild Growth. Tucker and Technus had quickly formed a rivalry, both competing to see who would reign supreme as the Infinite Realm’s ultimate tech master. Jazz had found her purpose in the Department of Lost Souls, as an advisor to those who weren’t certain about their afterlife, and what they wanted to do with it. After Jack and Maddie’s change of heart with regards to ghosts, it was not long before they found new purpose in investigating and researching the many mysteries of the Infinite Realms and beyond.

While he and his friends had reached their own maturity, Dani had remained a child. Something about “It’s easier to cause chaos this way�� and “No one ever suspects the baby”. Danny’s fondness for his clone only grew until he saw her less as a cousin and more as a daughter. Ultimately, it was only a surprise for Danny and Dani when the ghost-bond snapped in place, formally cementing her as his daughter, to both of their suffering.

Currently, she was out in one of the universes, chasing after some hybrid spider-pig, Danny thinks. Unless she got distracted and went to hang out with Klarion again, in an effort to “maximize joint chaos”. Tucker and Sam were both busy with their respective duties, Jazz was at work, and last he checked Mom and Dad were elbows deep in a mech suit they were hoping to get working off an Infinite Realms Corn-based fuel Sam had created. Danny had been feeling quite bored before he got the summons from Clockwork, and had jumped on it right away, hence his surprise at not being able to find his Mentor anywhere.

Danny had finally reached the top of the tower. He could see a table set up with a small tea service, but still no Clockwork. Figuring there’s nothing else to do, Danny pours himself a cup of tea, and settles in to wait.

—

Who is he? What is this place? His hand rests against a cool, smooth surface that appears so at odds with the rest of his surroundings-rocky ground, a red sky, and the water lapping against the cliff-side. There is nothing, and no one else that he sees, except – a cave. He stumbles in, visions of symbols surfacing in his brain- two “W”s, an “S”, a bat. He carves these into the rock-face desperate to have a visual trigger that would help him remember anything, but nothing comes.

A rock clatters against the floor of the cave, followed by someone’s voice. He approaches, steadily, entering into the light. Four men stand before him, weapons raised. They say something else, but he can’t understand.

“Where am I? What is this place?”

They do not answer him, but pull back their weapons. They introduce themselves, and speak some more. Names, he realizes- Man, Boy, Giant, Surly, Joker. This last one gives him pause, tickles something in his brain that upsets him, but soon his eyes lay on the structure from before, and he stumbles back to it, certain it must contain some clue.

The men he walks past continue to converse amongst themselves, but he has only one destination in mind. He digs through, looking for anything, but comes up only with a large swath of fabric. That same “S”, that calls to him but gives no answers.

The men set up camp, cooking as they go. They invite him to join, and he does, his hunger for food now outweighing his hunger for knowledge.

—

“Danny, I’m glad you came as soon as you could.” 

Danny’s teacup clatters as he jolts in surprise. He turns to face Clockwork, “I hope you don’t mind that I helped myself. What did you need my help with?”

Clockwork’s face turns a bit grim. “There is… something twisted in the time stream in one of the Justice League universes. While I can tell it is meant to happen, I am still uncertain about what is actually happening, and fear that I am unable to see with any certainty the outcome. I need you to venture to when this is to investigate on my behalf.”

Danny nods, his concern growing. “Of course. Is there anything in particular I should be prepared for?”

Danny swears he sees the corner of Clockwork’s mouth twitch up into his signature sly grin, before his face is quickly schooled and he says “No, just observe for now. Your destination is through here.”

Danny watches as the cog begins to glow before he ventures forward.

Immediately he is met with the sight of violence. It seems one group of cavemen has taken to attacking another during their dinner. Danny watches, cautious against intervening, trying to figure out who he is meant to watch for. He sees one man, dressed in black bottoms, escape the field of battle with a young boy and hide in the bushes. The battle quickly turns against the four who had been eating dinner, and Danny looks at the leader of those attacking, surprised that the leader’s face is familiar to him…though he can’t quite place who.

The man from before rejoins the fray, quickly beating many off before ultimately being subdued himself. The leader of the attacking cavemen crows in victory, before the army collects the man they’ve now taken prisoner and any other spoils, and returns to their home base.

Danny follows, trying hard not to focus on the bloodshed beneath. He may have lived a long time, but the kind of person willing to commit such violence is not someone he goes out of his way to find. He watches as the chief holds the man they took captive above his head.

“Conquering Chief Savage brings gifts from the forbidden land!”

“Shit,” Danny thinks, “I can’t believe I’m witnessing Vandal Savage’s villain origin story. Or is he already a villain at this point?”

Danny continues watching as they tie up the captive, who they’ve been calling ‘Man-God’ underneath a giant bat pelt. He takes a closer look, before reeling back in shock.

“I thought his pants were weird, but those are pretty 21st century” he thinks, before glancing around at hearing a shuffle. He sees a shadow lurking beyond the camp, crouched down. Danny approaches, recognizing the boy that had been rescued from the fight. He wears what looks like a yellow utility belt, and has painted a bat-shaped mask over his eyes.

“Wait… bats, a yellow utility belt…” Danny glances again to the Man-God strapped to the ground. 

“What is Batman doing here..?” Danny pauses, thinking. He should only be here as an observer, but it has never felt right to just stand on the sidelines when he can make the choice to do something to help. Maybe he doesn’t have to do too much. He floats over to where the Boy is crouched, clearly wanting to help but paralyzed with fear and indecision.

“Go to him. Help him as he has helped you. There has been enough bloodshed this day, will you wait around to see more?” Danny whispers to him, watching the boy’s eyes harden as he comes to a decision.

The boy is quick to act now that he’s made a decision. He approaches Batman, and frees him from his bonds. Danny watches as they collect themselves. Batman dons his utility pelt, and the bat pelt that had been hung over him. By the time they’ve finished their preparations, the sun has risen and the men who captured Batman are rising.

“Should I cause a distraction?” Danny wonders, but before he can do anything, Batman and the boy spring into action, taking out fighter after fighter, until Batman is left facing Vandal Savage.

They charge towards each other, but Danny’s attention is caught by a shadow that begins to pass over the battlefield. He looks up, noting an eclipse is starting. He can feel the energy changing, knows that something is going to happen when the sun has been completely blotted out.

But Clockwork has instructed him only to observe, so observe he will. He turns back to the battlefield, noting that Batman and the boy have managed to push back Vandal Savage, but are still being chased off by the remaining caveman. They drop over a waterfall, but when Danny follows, he only sees the boy surface.

The sky is dark now, as the sun has been completely covered, and there is energy concentrated underneath the water. Danny focuses, in the way Clockwork has taught him, to figure out what lies beneath and where Batman has gone.

“A strong amount of time-manipulation energy…No Batman, not in this time anymore.” Danny looks around to see the boy has realized Batman will not follow, and has left to find shelter. 

“Did he make another jump through time? But how? I didn’t see that he had anything on him capable of such a jump?” Danny thinks. He’s considering if he can piggy back off the residual energy to jump to when Batman is, but a portal opens behind him and Clockwork steps out.

“Danny, I think it would be best if we return now.” he says, gesturing for Danny to follow.

—

Back at his mentor’s lair, Danny explains the situation to Clockwork. Clockwork inclined his head in thought, only speaking after some time, “I can’t say for certain whether or not Batman was meant to be in that time period. However, there is something suspicious about the way he’s been traveling through time. Did you notice anything off with the time manipulation energy, Danny?” 

“I can’t say for certain,” Danny starts, “Though I did notice there was a build-up to the event, in line with an eclipse. Then again, I’m not familiar enough with the way dimensional energy manipulation feels in the universes with the Justice League to say for certain.”

Clockwork hums, before turning to rifle through a cupboard that popped up behind him. He pulled out a glowing orange orb. “Here, it’s a record of the time-manipulation energy gathered from one of the Flash’s misadventures. Can you compare and feel any difference?”

Danny closes his eyes before focusing again. “I can feel there are some significant similarities, but it feels like both have an added component that is different from each other? I don’t know if that makes any sense.”

“The energy reading from the sphere I handed you will likely contain energy both from the time-manipulation and the Speedforce the Flashes use to travel between time. If we assume the time-manipulation energy is the constant in both samples, then…”

“There’s some other energy added into the mix that is propelling Batman forward through time?” Danny finishes.

“That is likely the case. Until we know what it is, it would be best to exercise caution. We don’t know how it interacts with the time-manipulation energy, so we can’t predict how it might affect you Daniel.” Clockwork pauses in thought once more, “I’ll spend some time figuring out where Batman made his next jump. In the meantime, take a rest and prepare yourself.”

“I’m not totally familiar with the universes containing the Justice League. I’ll spend some time researching for now… and maybe I’ll ask Dani what she knows when she returns.”

Clockwork smiles slightly, before nodding. “A fine course of action, it might be best to gather all the information we can before proceeding.”

A/N:

At the time of plotting this, I haven’t read A Glitch in Time. I know that there are some time periods in common that Danny and Bruce travel to, so I want to address that at this moment I’m not planning to reference A Glitch in Time.

As for actual writing, I feel a bit stuck on how much of Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne to actually reference, as I’m aware that most people in the dp x dc fandom are more familiar with Danny Phantom, and from other references I’ve seen to Batman’s travels through time it might not be a story many are familiar with. That being said, I don’t want to just directly repeat details from the comics. I guess if you feel I didn’t provide enough background from the comic series to understand what’s going on, or that I should maybe try referencing less, please let me know so I can make corrections.

On that note, I do recommend reading Batman:The Return of Bruce Wayne if you get the chance. There are so many interesting layers it adds to the mythos and history of Batman and the Wayne family, and it’s really a great read. It helps that you don’t really need too much knowledge of what comes before– except maybe that Batman had crafted a god-killing bullet he shot Darkseid with, before Darkseid retaliated and “killed” Batman. Even this is alluded to in the story in enough detail that you can understand what’s going on, though.

[pictured-as-perfect]

what the hell am i doing dawg

[readbyred]

I like him so much, he’s like, the nephew of the big bad who grows to resent him with time. We consider him to also be bad, I mean, he’s just some rich boy who gets into our protagonist’s way. He is very skilled at fighting AND influential, so he’s a serious threat too. The breaking point is when he finds out he’s actually been MADE and kind of doesn’t have free will and all of this is bc of some British siblings’ drama from way back (one sibling challenges the family beliefs in the name of love, the other doesn’t). We grow to like him, turns out he’s just a sad blond boy with lots of issues. Also! Change of hairstyle is important with this one. Though he’s a threat to the miniature magical animals of the series and even wants to hand/hands them over to his uncle, turns out he works good with the bird one. I want more of him

!!!!??

[min3nc]

been tempted to write a few drabbles of my Durge, Aster’s Half-Elf Tav, and the companions we romance; him Shadowheart, and I Lae’zel and Karlach.

just a few stories about a two bratty half-elves in love, constant tension between Tav and Durge, Lae’zel pretty much keeping Durge on a leash and Karlach turning those urges into something less violent through being the modt puppy girl there is.

Lae’zel: Your weakling Elf Companion is… quite shorter than you. My partner is a warrior worthy of my affection, and the affection of such a magnificent warrior as Karlach is.

Shadowheart, rolling her eyes: Half-Elf. And… I’d say something, but… *Points at Durge, who’s watching a rabbit and already mumbling under her breath the vocal and somatic components for Eldritch Blast.* I like meat, but I’m not sure she’s gonna share that.

Lae’zel: *turns around, watching as the rabbit is blasted to bits* Tsk’va, Karlach!

Karlach: Already on it Soldier! *Tackles Durge before she can do it again* You heard Boss Lady! No maiming or hunting unless it’s for dinner!

[melodyplucked]

ricky's skating partners -

ellory peterson (sadie stanley)

ricky's first serious skating partnership. they started properly skating together when he was 14 and she was 13 years old. they went on to go to the olympics together when he was 16 and she was 15, after two years of seriously training together. they medaled bronze, but it was exceptionally close to being fourth place. they went to a few more invitationals together, but her family made a cross country move for her dad's job about five or so months after the olympics, after her 16th birthday, and right before ricky's 17th. they did cross some significant lines into romantic territory in those last two months she was in utah, though she'd had a crush on him for quite a while before, and she is pretty certainly his first girlfriend, whether they'd officially put that label on it or not. her leaving his life so soon into things definitely compounded his whole thing about his mom leaving... which is fun.

ava kincaid (sydney sweeney)

started skating with ricky when they were both 17, him freshly so, about a month after ellory left utah. this was supposed to be their plan going forward, working towards the next olympics around 3 and a half years down the line, if her former coach wasn't still poking her about her decision to stop skating singles... did she maybe specifically want to skate with ricky... possibly. there was a lot of talk about that for sure. was she serious about skating pairs... yes. but her coach was very disappointed she didn't want to stick it out skating alone despite her prior performances being good but not as great as they should be if she wants to really do this. she's a lot happier as a pairs skater, working with jenn and ricky... and they end up a couple after a good five or so months when a late night alone at the rink turns into eating pizza in the back seat of his car and a night he was glad his dad reminded him to always keep jumper cables in the trunk. she wasn't mad though- and pretending to be his girlfriend to get the guy who helped them jump the car to stop looking at her like that turned into a bit of a what if that put them on their way to something...

the reason their skating partnership ended right around two years in, was because of a few things- but if you were to be totally honest, it started when her ex boyfriend came back into the picture. he kissed her after his hockey game, and while ricky doesn't know the full story, he saw the photo on instagram before he heard it from her- and she had been pretty much his girlfriend for almost a year and a half at the time... they stopped seeing each other within a few days, because despite her telling him that he just caught her off guard she didn't kiss him... he knew she was kind of happy her ex had kissed her. and frankly he felt cheated regardless and didn't want to chance anything else happening. they skated together another month or two, but whether it's due to her then boyfriend's jealousy of her skating with him or her old coach getting extra pushy about her skating singles being better, she did go back to skating singles. at which point he had about a year and a half to the olympics to find and train with a new partner, after being so set with ava for two years already and planning on going with her...

--

emma williams (daniella perkins)

started skating together when he was 19 and she was 18. this partnership lasted about a month before she managed to end up with the blade of her skate in her leg ala the first episode of spinning out. they weren't skating together long enough for anything at all to really transpire between them. they'd just begun their partnership, and she had just moved to utah a few months before they paired up, so it wasn't like they knew each other. she's cool though, and had been a great singles skater at 16. unrelated to ricky, but she ends up doing commentary after she recovers from her injuries. speaks well of him when asked despite how briefly they skated together.

--

nini salazar-roberts ( @inspotlight )

started skating together when they were 19 years old, a year and a few months out from the next olympics. i could say so so many things about how emotionally tumultuous their partnership was to start, but they'd loved each other since they were sixteen and when they got it together and admitted it, they never looked back. they went on to win olympic gold together at 20 years old, after securing the two preceding nationals wins. they go on to medal at 3 more olympics after that, getting married in between, before she finds out she's pregnant with their baby. he does skate at one more olympics after this, but his skating partner is inconsequential by that point. nini is his partner in all things. and they get to bring their baby with them to the olympics to come see what brought them together in the first place which is amazing.

[hollywoodsargeant]

size kink is actually [EXTREMELY LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER]

but fr sargewood has captivated me like no other and i would genuinely love to write for it but i know i don't know enough about kyle to write him and im working on that cause i dont wanna do him dirty 😔

yeah size kink is [REDACTED] do not squint too hard at some of my dialogue especially in my new fic byeeee

sargewood is so good. where's that picture. you know the one. where logan's hair is long. YEAH. i'm too lazy to go find it rn but imagine it in ur brain. i probably also need to get better at writing kyle but i am just like. idk he's american i like to think i can write americans thank god

[mydearlybeloathed]

── 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑! 𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your people have a legend: mermaids only ever fall in love once. you never put much thought into it, until you come across a band of human pirates.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: romance dawn trio x mermaid!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: sleep who's she? ~7k baby (1.7k intro, 1.4k luffy, 2k nami, 1.9k zoro)

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: my contribution to mermay... on the last day of may, it gets increasingly more unhinged, sanji kinda gets bullied, robin is carrying the last two relationships, my own made up mermaid courting rituals, biting, a bit of violence

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: i had this playlist on repeat while writing 🙆

The last island had warned the waters to come were infested with dark creatures of slithering scales and tempting voices. Creatures that pull you in deep and leave you out to dry a corpse. Born from seafoam, storms, and desire. Mermaids.

“Mermaids?” Zoro drawled. 

“I met a mermaid once,” said Usopp, and everyone groaned unanimously. “She tried to take me down, but my charms were just too much, so she let me go.”

Everyone surely believed him, of course. 

And of course the motley crew ignored every reservation and warning and sailed headfirst into the treacherous sea. At first, nothing at all was out of the ordinary. The morning fog hung tentatively over the water splashing at the ship's hull as it powered through. Sure, the sun could’ve shined a bit brighter through the thick clouds, but it was a lovely day for adventure.

Nami stood at the helm keeping an eye on the horizon, relishing in the breeze hitting her face, when you heard an odd buzzing in her ear. She swiped at the air and rubbed her ear on her shoulder, but the sound only grew louder. Puffing her cheeks, she turned to ask Sanji to get her the bug spray, when she noticed he too was messing with his ears. 

She laid eyes on each of the crew scattered around the deck, enjoying the cool weather. Everyone shifted uncomfortably, faces screwing up as though in pain. 

“Do you guys hear that?” she asked needlessly, gathering their attention.

Zoro cupped his ears, nodding. “Yeah, it’s like…”

“Buzzing,” Luffy finished. He kept swatting at the air, searching out for some fly assaulting him.

“No, it’s… it’s singing.” Sanji faced the waters, the words of the village folk coming back to him as his eyes widened. He whipped back around to lock eyes with Nami just as she put everything together too.

She gasped. “Mermaids.”

The ship rocked and the weather shifted drastically in seconds. Already thick clouds doubled in number, drawing close and creating a swirling mass in the sky. Waves rumbled and rose to crash over the deck, sending the crew into hysteria to grab their bearings. 

And on top of it all, the most beautiful melody rose above the chaos, filtering into the ears of the crew and blocking all else out. Usopp’s hands slackened around the rope he held steady, eyes glazing over as he leaned toward the far off sound. Sanji’s eyes flickered up to the sky, roamed over the gray clouds, and fell to the waters below, his mind dizzied by the beauty and lithe of the voices. Zoro stumbled drunkenly over his own two feet, desire furling in the pit of his stomach, legs carrying him to the edge of the ship to catch a glimpse of the one singing to him. Luffy froze midclimb up to the crowsnest, head darting this way and that, mind clouded. Nami gritted her teeth, resolve formed to not give in to the angelic, mystifying, amazing song sung just for her—she left the helm unguarded, leaping to join her friends in calling out to the seas. 

The crew’s voices overlapped in thier pleading for the woman to come near, to give them all that the song promised. Their every dream would come true, if only the mermaid would help them into the water. The pod of mermaids encircled the ship, their harmonies intertwining in one mind. The ship might have kept on drifting, guided by rough waters manipulated by the mermaids’ hand, and crashed right into the reef and all the crew would be scooped up by the she-beasts, thrust into the deep to drown,

If not for one voice which rose above the rest in a demanding, desperate order: “STOP!”

Instantly, the clouds parted and sun bled through. The song fell through to indignant shrieks, splashes dying down to ripples as shiny tails descended into the blue. Nami blinked awake, feeling hungover and headached, looking blearily out on the water. Vision clearing, she caught a sight she would never forget; a woman lain on the far rocks, a single beam of sun illuminating the vibrant scales running along her skin till they met at a tail dipping into the water. 

The fact that their ship was headed right for those jagged rocks was an afterthought. She lurched back and sped into motion, barking out furious orders and smacking the men upside the head to push them into gear. Sanji stood frozen at the ship’s rail, gripping the wood in a vice, eyes glued to the creature. “Nami, it’s—”

“I know!” She gripped his shirt and whipped him around, slapping the side of his face a few times. “We’re going to crash!”

Sanji blinked, shook his head, and raced to grab a flinging rope, jumping high and tying in down in one swoop. Nami bolted to the steer, an eye out the window as she pulled with all her might to change their course. Usopp soon joined her, guiding the ship bit by bit to the left’s clear passage. She fell backward when Zoro’s shout reached them, “We’re clear!”

Risking a moment of peace, the navigator cupped her hands over her face, allowing her body to calm all its flighting-fighting instincts. The calm lasted for all of five seconds before the screaming began.

“Luffy! What—Why—What?!”

Nami sprang upright, locking eyes with Usopp, and the two sighed in unison before heading above deck. Whatever Nami expected, it wasn’t the terrified, shivering form of a mermaid baring her two fangs at a looming Luffy. The others stood a ways away, unsure what to do with themselves, but certain they didn’t want to get involved with this.

“Luffy!” Nami cried. “Did you drag her up here?”

Given the mermaid’s following hiss, Nami assumed that was the case. Luffy inched closer still, and the mermaid lost all her gusto, face falling as she scrambled away form him, dragging her tail behind her. 

The mermaid was beautiful; that was the common thread of thought. Her damp hair hung all around her face, nearly covering her deep eyes. Scales creeped up her torso and faded into skin around her chest. Her every movement was caught by the sun, her scales shimmering rainbow reflections into the air around her. 

“Stay back,” she hissed out, eyes narrowing upon Luffy. “Demon.”

Usopp scoffed, grabbing the mermaid’s sharp attention. “What, long-nose?”

Ruffling, chuckled awkwardly, he looked around at his friends for help, receiving nothing but raised brows. “I just mean—you’re the mermaid.”

The mermaid blinked slowly. She seemed to have forgotten the threat before her, all attention directed at a quivering Usopp. “I’m the demon? I’m the one who saved you. You think my people decided to let you live on their own?” She laughed, and the sound had a pretty ring to it. “No. I commanded them.”

Her eyes darted back to Luffy as he took to sitting criss-crossed in front of her. “I should have let you and this demon-child die on the rocks.”

It soon became obvious she knew Luffy ate a devil-fruit just by one look at him, and she was not happy about it. Luffy only tilted his head at her hostility, a little frown on his face. “Are all mermaids this rude?”

You balked, gaping before snapping your mouth shut, not dignifying him with a reply. Luffy persisted. “I like your tail. What do you mean you saved us? Why?”

Curling your tail closer to yourself, hands holding your upper body up, you glanced from the pirate captain to each of his crew. They didn’t look too threatening, but you’d learned long ago to never trust a human’s looks. Many a mermaid died on the grounds of humans looking nice. So Luffy’s question begged an answer. Why did you save them?

You shrugged a shoulder, eyes drifting out to sea. “My people need to eat.”

Usopp gulped. “We’re very gamy. You wouldn’t like us—”

“I wasn’t done speaking,” she quipped back, a brow raised. “Mers are carnivores by nature. Normally, we steer clear of humans.” You sneered at the word. “We find your kind to be a predator, and we’re a peaceful people.” The swordsman scoffed and rolled his eyes at that. 

“But times have changed. The fish have fled this sea.” You took a deep breath, shakily letting it out. “My people are starving, and they look to me as their princess for guidance.” Quickly clearing your throat to hide how the topic gloomed you, you snapped, “All that is to say that I strictly forbade the hunting of humans despite the starvation. They disobeyed me. That is why I helped you.”

You faced them all as your tail began to glimmer even brighter, slowly but surely parting down the middle. Your face contorted slightly as your scales seemed to mold into your skin, leaving you bear before the crew of pirates. You shivered in the breeze, raising your gaze once more. “Any other questions?”

There seemed to be none, silence running around the deck, and you prepared to jump back into the water before your parents sent the guard to find you, when the demon-child spoke up.

“Yeah,” Luffy nodded, face taken by seriousness. “How do we bring the fish back?”

You blinked once, then twice, and then a third time for good measure, but nothing in his expression betrayed hilarity. He wasn’t pulling your fin. The devil-fruit eater meant to help you. 

Demon. That’s what he was. You knew this fully well. It’s what your parents taught you from a young age. Devil-fruit eaters are the enemy of the sea, and thus the enemy of the mers. You’d followed this rule all your life… but then you looked at the one they called Luffy, you really looked at him right in his face… and none of that made any sense anymore.

Sure enough, Luffy led the charge against the oil corporation mining near your peoples’ home, threatening convincing them to move elsewhere. Within a few days of the miners’ departure, some mers managed to coax schools of fish back to their reefs. With the ecosystem and chain of life restored, the Straw Hat Pirates had no reason to stay.

And really, neither did you. What you did have, however, was a reason to go with the pirates. Adventure, the life you’d always dreamed of, away from the reef you’d felt tethered to for so long… and a certain member of the crew who had caught your rapt, undying attention.

There’s a legend that mermaids only fall in love once, never to find another who would fill the gap in their hearts. You would always call it foolish romance… but really, there might be something to it.

LUFFY

You were a goner the moment he offered to help you with those big, genuine eyes of his. As much as you tried to deny it—and you did try to deny it—you were falling in love with a human. A devil-fruit eater at that. What had you been reduced to?

And yet, there was no denying it. Especially not when you couldn’t bear to go an hour without laying eyes on him. Your mother said it was normal for mers to feel… possessive over the one who holds their affection, and that fact was not lost on you as you slithered through the water, approaching the pirate lazed out on the rocks he’d dragged you from about a week before.

Your eyes rose above the water first, little grin still below the surface. Luffy looked so relaxed, eyes on the clouds, every once in a while glancing at his crew on the anchored ship nearby. You braced your hands on the cool stone and launched yourself upward, fanged smile gleaming as water splashed Luffy’s legs. His laugh had you keening closer, dragging your tail along the rocks. Luffy grinned for all of two seconds before the seawater sunk in. Instantly drowsy, he tried to offer up another smile as you winced.

“Sorry,” you giggled. “I always forget.”

He laughed it off, already recovering as he shifted to face you. Luffy’s eyes followed your tail to where your fins dipped into the sea. “If only I could swim with you. Bet it’s fun.”

“If only.” You shared a smile for a little too long, but it never grew uncomfortable. Lingering in the moment, you gazed over at his ship, melancholy taking over as your smile faltered. “So… you’re leaving soon?”

“In the morning.” You clicked your tongue and tried your best to act nonchalant, failing miserably as you pursed your lips and combed through your hair.

“Why not tonight?” you offered with a tight grin. “You should get away as fast as possible. I don’t know how one becomes pirate king but it's not by sticking around a boring reef and its boring princess. Ha! I’ll even help bring your anchor up faster! Then you can be out by sundown.”

The silence crept up your spine, getting you all antsy as you lowered your gaze to the rippling waters. Shoulders tense, you could feel Luffy’s eyes on your profile as you picked at the algae along the rocks. He probably thought you were an idiot, rambling like that. And if so, that was fine. It would make him leaving so much easier. 

Luffy inched toward you and ducked to meet your gaze. “Come with us.”

“What!” You hit an octave the best soprano would envy, losing your grip and slipping right off the rock back into the water. Your hands grabbed at the slippery stone, panic all over your face before you plunged under the surface. 

You drifted under the waves, unmoving as the words replayed over and over in your head, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Glancing up at Luffy’s bright laughter, you caught sight of him peering down into the sea, his face muddled by reflections and ripples. He couldn’t be serious. He just couldn’t. 

Luffy grew nervous when you didn’t resurface, leaning over the water to catch a glimpse of your shimmery tail, when as quick as lightning you broke the surface and came nose to nose with him. Blinking wide, you breathed deeply, so close you felt his every exhale on your skin. “You mean it?”

“‘Course!” Luffy offered you his hand despite the fact he’d lose all his strength the moment he touched your sea-soaked skin. “Wanna join my crew?”

Yes. You wanted nothing more than to follow him to the end s of the earth and then some. Part of you had been hoping he would ask. The rest of you longed to take his hand and smother him in hugs till he pried you off him. But… the water swirled around your tail, threatening to carry you off in a current, and your lips quivered down. 

“I… I can’t!” you cried, dipping underwater before he could catch you, darting off into the blue. Panic bubbled in your chest, strangled gasps sending pops of air into the water around you. No matter what you wanted, you were bound to this reef. Your home, your kingdom… and above all that, to ever think of running off with a human was foolish beyond measure! So you wasted away all night long, lamenting around the sea, hiding above the coral and sands. 

Luffy watched the water all morning, trusting you would show despite your disappearance implying otherwise. Nami set a hand on his shoulder. “Luffy, she’s not coming.”

He had to hope. You wanted to go, he saw it in your eyes, and he wanted you to go too. Luffy didn’t think he could bear leaving without you, and he wasn’t exactly sure why. He knew from the moment he met you that he needed you on his crew—but why? He searched his head for an answer, coming up short. Giving the sea one last hopeful glance, Luffy sighed and gave Nami the go-ahead. 

The ship had barely sailed off when a shimmery, sparkling thing leaped out of the water, shouted his name, and plunged back into the blue. Luffy raced to the ship’s edge, a smile creeping up his face. You raked a trail of seaspray behind you as you darted just below the surface. Again, you propelled yourself out of the water. “Wait!”

Luffy threw his head back laughing, holding down his hat on his head. He shot Nami an I told you so look, to which she rolled her eyes and turned, lest he catch her pleased smirk. A round of chuckles ran amongst the crew as they slowed the ship’s leave, not that it mattered; Luffy was already slingshotting his rubber arms out at you, and the next time you appeared arcing through the air, your shout turned into a yelp as his arms wrapped around you and pulled you in. Another panicked shout of his name left you before you collided with the rubber man, the pair of you rolling to the deck.

You worried your tail crushed him, the hefty weight of it landing on his legs, but all reservations fizzled out the moment his arms wrapped you up in a warm embrace. Luffy’s head found your shoulder, your hands hooking around his shoulders. “I’m covered in seawater…”

“Don’ care,” Luffy muttered into your skin even as he weakened and sank into you. “I knew you’d come with us.”

“With you,” you corrected instinctively, pulling away to stare right into his eyes. “I’ll follow you anywhere.”

He giggled softly. Luffy’s arms unraveled as he opted to instead cup your shoulders. “Good.”

From then on, where one went, you’d soon find the other. Not only on your end; Luffy quickly grew so accustomed to your presence that he began to wait for you to start eating, much to the amazement of his friends (Zoro almost admitted he was jealous before he saw the hints of puppy love in his captain’s eyes, and decided to let it go for now). 

You still had some things to wear off before you fully let yourself admit you were falling for a human. Luffy seemed to be completely comfortable just going around holding your hand, swinging them between your bodies as your cheeks warmed. Luffy never strayed far from your side, comfortably resting an arm on your shoulder or some other contact. You never completely told him off for it, somewhat liking how his warmth contrasted with the cold of your sea-ridden body.  

Now, it’s a given that Luffy cannot swim. He ate a devil fruit—everyone knew this fact very well. But now Luffy had his mermaid with him! All his faith went into knowing you would always swim to his rescue should he need it, so what’s the harm if he got a little bit more reckless surrounding the sea?

(The harm is to your stress. By God, he would be the end of you one way or another).

The number of times one of the crew has called your name, given you this tired and sorry look, and pointed out to sea. Luffy was likely to be flapping about in the distance. The most recent occurrence, Sanji set a hand on your shoulder and went to let down a rope ladder. “I’ll help you back up, lovely.”

Outwardly, you might gripe about holding his hand and having to save his devil-fruit ass from drowning every other week—but inwardly? You’d turn hell over before you let Luffy die. So you held his hand tightly in yours, wearing a smile so small only Luffy’s keen eye could see. 

NAMI

Without really realizing it, Nami had fallen headfirst for your awkward, waterlogged, fishy kind of charm (and she wasn’t at all going to complain). She first started feeling it when the freshly victorious crew met your mer royalty parents at the surface, your tail mesmerizing as it dipped just into the water, your upper body propped up onto some scattered rocks. Your eyes filled with hope the longer you spoke to them in words too far to reach. Majestic. That’s the only word to describe you.

Well, majestic and graceless. That second descriptor was added when you rolled off the rocks into the water, beaming up at your parents before doing a figure eight around the sea and vaulting into the air. You flipped tail over head, cackling as you hit the water with a splash. A tiny laugh left Nami, eyes shining.

She was the first to help haul you up a rope ladder, hands clutching your damp arms. Nami met your smile steadfastly. “What’d you tell them?”

You giggled, cheeks warm at how you practically laid across her legs, the rest of the crew gathered around. “I just told ‘em I found something worth leaving for.”

(You’d told them you found a pretty human girl and had to leave with her or else you would probably die).

You promised to return for your birthright throne one day, though that promise hurt you. You had a duty to your people after all, no matter how pretty Nami was. But until then, you had today, and you would make the most of it. 

Love wasn’t enough of a word to describe what you felt looking at Nami, and obsession was a bit too extreme (though Usopp would teasingly disagree). You simply… couldn’t help but gravitate toward her any chance there was, ever in her orbit. Where Nami was, you were soon to be found. Nami never told you to screw off or give her space; on the contrary, when your shoulder brushed hers, she pressed into you fervently, skin to skin and warm.

It only took a month for you to throw all caution to the wind and do the only thing you knew—go forth with the mer courting rituals (you were hopelessly at a loss, only doing what you’d seen the older mers do to beckon the attention of their intended).

Nami, clueless, accepted each gift of dazzling seashells and shimmery pearls with alighted smiles, taking you in her arms even when you smelled of the kelp forest you’d swam through to find the treasures. She laughed off the bites you gave her wrists, arms, and sometimes shoulders, snickering about how it tickled. And she sat and listened to every song you sat her down to listen to, closing her eyes as the melody calmed her, never needing any actual enchantment to draw her in. 

In turn, you assumed her habir of buying you things was some sort of human ritual. Why else would Nami’s cheeks be so rosy as she handed you a luxury hairbrush you’d raved about seeing in a shop window? 

“Did you see this new pearl she brought me?” Nami leaned toward Robin giddily, rolling the pearl in her palms. Her lip between her teeth, she stifled a too bright smile. “I’ll have enough to make a bracelet if hse keeps this up.”

“Then I’d say you’ll soon have a bracelet,” Robin mused, turning a page in her book. Nami tilted her head, eyes narrowed.

“What’s so funny?”

Robin’s lips curled up into a grin, eyes darting up to meet Nami’s. She barely contained her mirth as she flipped the book around and handed it over. “Nami, she’s been courting you.”

Jaw slack, Nami poured over the open page, heart stuttering. She slapped a hand to her temple, huffing a laugh. “So by giving her gifts, I’ve been courting her back?”

Humming, Robin took her book and closed it gently. She turned to face Nami entirely, brows raised. “You don’t seem upset.”

“I’m not,” Nami quipped, cheeks warming instantly. Robin chuckled behind her hand. “I—I mean—Uhm…”

The older woman stood and set a hand on Nami’s shoulder. “I’d expect an invite to swim fairly soon.”

Sure enough, not a day later, you shyly slinked up to Nami as she headed to the galley for dinner. Your hand found her wrist, tugging her aside as Zoro and Robin passed by wearing matching grins. You stared at your feet uncharacteristically, shuffling back and forth. Nami felt hot all over. She reached out a lissome finger to wrap around your pinky, whispering, “What is it?”

Swallowing thickly, you huffed a confident breath and snapped your head up. “Would-you-go-on-a-swim-with-me-tomorrow?”

A little smile worked its way up Nami’s face. Your eyes squeezed shut the second you finished your sentence, wincing like she might lash out. “I’d like that.”

Your whole face lit up, eyes wide as saucers. “O-Okay. At sunset. We’ll be docked at that island by then, right?”

Nami nodded and pulled you into the galley. Right as she passed through the door, before she could catch the teasing glances of the others, she turned and mumbled, “It’s a date.”

Nobody questioned it when you hissed your fangs at poor Usopp, booting him out of his seat right next to Nami, and promptly plopped down next to the grinning navigator.

Sunset came to slowly, in your opinion. All day you’d been tripping over nothing, nervous hands making your awkward legs even more coltish than usual. Around evening, the ship tipped too far left far too quickly, sending you careening right into Nami. You dragged the both of you down to the deck, face hidden in your hands as she laughed brightly.

And finally, the sun descended across the sky, shooting oranges and yellows and pinks into the clouds. 

The wind kissed your face as you leaned against the ship’d railing, eyes darting back and forth over the rippled waters below. Fish flittered at the surface, bubbling her and there, muttering awful curses at each other. Nami sidled up beside you, eyeing your profile before gazing down. 

You snickered, drawing her attention. “Fish hear all sorts of swears and insults from the sailors. I wish you could understand them because I will never be caught translating that mess.”

Your laugh trickled off as you looked at her, eyes trailing up and down her form. She wore one of her bikini tops and a pair of shorts, nothing too special, but something flared up in your chest at the sight of her. Skin prickling, you whipped around and found Sanji not too far away. The cook took a drag of his cigarette, admiring eyes set on Nami. Your fangs peeked out of your lips, trilling a low hiss. Sanji choked and nearly dropped his cig into the sea, catching it betwixt his fingers at the last second.

Nami’s laughed gently, taking your arm and swinging one leg over the ailing, then the other. You gazed into her eyes deeply. “C’mon,” she smiled. “I thought we were swimming?”

With that, she jumped off the ship and plunged into the sea. You jerked forward, watching bubbles fizzle up from the deep before Nami’s head popped back into sight. She kicked into deeper water, calling for you. Taking a moment to sike yourself up, you stood precariously on the ship’s railing, preparing to make a graceful dive after her—when your foot slipped.

Yelping, you tottered offbalance and fell face first off the ship, just barely flipping around to land feet first in the water. The water fizzled and bubbled all around you, the usual sting of scales surfacing from the depths of your skin causing you to squirm slightly. Your senses enhanced instantly, so Nami’s rich, boisterous laughter flowed down from the air to the sea, embarrassment flooding your body. Slowly, you swam upward, water parting over your head and dripping donw your face. 

Eyes hooded, you came to face to face with Nami’s state of hilarity, clutching her sides as she struggled to remain above water. You waded toward her, hands finding her sides and giving her a break from kicking even as your eyes avoided her own. She hooked her finger under your chin, grin cheeky. “I thought it was cute.”

“Wasn’t meant to be,” you grunted. 

Nami rolled her eyes and kicked away form you. “I thought we were swimming?”

“Not here,” you said, coming back to your sense. You reached for her hand and led her along the coast. “This way.”

You placed her arms around your neck and sped through the water, taking the pair of you far from the prying eyes of the crew and nearby sailors. Nami tucked her face into the crook of your neck, chuckling as seaspray stung her skin. Your tail propelled you toward a secluded cove you once visited with your aunt’s migrant pod, and you reached your destination in no time at all.

Now, Nami had done her research. She knew what to expect… But then you actually started to swim, your tail not making the usual constant up an down movements. You took a deep breath, eyed her hopefully, and parted the water by arcing your arms outward. Using a single, powerful thrust of your tail, you glided through the water like a piercing arrow, rotating in a spiral corkscrew. You circled Nami, who treaded water with a confused furrow in her brow. 

She had been picturing the Dance of Sea Hearts all day, and yet she hadn’t come close. 

Taking a breath, Nami gulped some air and ducked under the surface, flinging open her eyes. The salty water stung her eyes but she remained wide eyed, gaze trailing after your lithe curves and spirals. She caught your eye and the whole world seemed shifted all at once.

Suddenly pickiing up speed, you swam on your side round and round Nami, creating a current that spun Nami in a circle. Cheeks puffed of air, she went up for another bout of air and sank back down in one fluid motion. It was odd sort of dance, your fins brushing her skin and your hands tangling in her hair, taking her hands and spinning Nami in circles till the girl’s lack of oxygen and dizziness created a euphoric lightedheadness. But she trusted you, so she rose up for air and descended under the waves once more. 

When you finally started to sing, Nami wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to return to the surface. You were one person yet your voice sounded like a choir, echoes forming under the water and overwhelming every living creature in the vicinity with the beauty of your vocalizations. She remembered when she heard your people singing her crew to thier watery depths… and this was nothing like that. Their voices beckoned her forth with promises of jewels and safety of wealth… but you didn’t promise anything other than the safety of your love. 

Nami’s lips returned to the surface, sucking in as much air as she could. As the water closed around the crown of her head once more, you floated right in front of her, careful to not allow any enchantment into your voice. You wanted to do this right, not the way your people usually took the hearts of humans. Lips parted, you strung out your song—the song your father sang to your mother, and her mother to her father, and his father to his partner, and so on. 

The dazed look in Nami’s eyes was nearly concerning, and you nearly feared you’d let slip some magic, when her hands cupped your cheeks and her forehead collided with yours. Bubbles flew form your mouth, song halted instantly. Nami gave you a tilted grin, picking up the melody where you’d dropped it, and you were putty in her hands. 

Deeper the pair of you sank into the waves, your arms enveloping her body and holding her close, your tail curling around her legs. Noses brushing, your voices twinned together as your smiles rose to greet each other. Nami tapped your arm rapidly, on the brink of suffocation, and you swiftly swam the both of you back to the surface. 

Gasping in air, Nami curled her arms round your neck, lungs no longer straining under the power of the sea. “Are we, like, mermaid married now?”

You laughed awkwardly, nosing her cheek. “Not exactly… Do you understand what I’m asking?”

“I do.”

“And?”

She pecked your lips. “I like you too.”

Though your heart threatened to sink, you accepted her kiss wholeheartedly, vowing to someday make her understand the depth of what you felt for her. The night grew long and full of laughter, splashing water hitting your faces as you committed a dance of your own making: having fun.

ZORO

Zoro knew the moment he laid eyes on you that you were dangerous. 

With sharp fangs, fins that flared when angry, and the most hypnotizing eyes that made him feel things when he looked in them—you were close to the myths he heard growing up on his home island. Except, unlike the myths, you were kind, and maybe that’s what made it worse.

Zoro also knew something else the moment he saw you jump in the way of a sword strike from an oil miner and proceeded to tear him to shreds. With a mumbled curse and flushed face, he felt a thump in his heart as you heaved, dark eyes taking him in like you intended to devour him whole. But then you smiled, corners of your mouth curling to reveal shiny teeth that should have been threatening, and all he could think was a very firm shit.

He wasn’t getting a crush on a mermaid. 

Yet, he found his eyes always drifting to you one way or another. And that voice—you swore you never used your enchantments on anyone, finding it unethical, but you had to be doing something to him. Each morning you went up to the crows nest and sang a song. Zoro was able to name every single one by now, but he’d rather die than admit it. 

(But you knew, having a keen eye to catch his eyes fluttering closed whilst you spun your melodies).

You composed yourself far better despite feeling a similar tug in his direction. You were a princess, after all—albeit a feral sea princess, but you held poise nonetheless. Of course, that didn’t change the fact that every time you laid eyes on Zoro you had this innate desire to bite him. Maybe then the cook would get the message and stop staring.

Either way, it was really only a matter of time before the culmination of looks, touches, and songs took its final toll on you both. 

You sat with Robin on the steps leading up to the helm, you head propped in your hands, eyes unabashedly laid upon the swordsman training on the deck below. Robin’s eyes drifted up from her journal, flicking between you and the source of your admination, before shaking her head. “You could talk to him, you know.”

Blinking, you glanced her way. “I do talk to him.”

“I mean,” Robin laughed. “Talk to him. About you and him.”

“Oh no, I can’t do that. It would complicate things.”

“And constantly undressing him with your eyes doesn’t?”

You cast her a little glare. “Don’t test me.”

Rolling her eyes, Robin shoved your shoulder, nearly sending you falling donw the stairs. “I’m sick of watching you two. It’s sickening. I’m sure I don’t have to remind you of your own romantic customs?”

Cheeks burning, you stammered over incoherent words and wobbled to your feet. Pausing to breathe, you peered over your shoulder, losing yourself for a moment as you caught sight of the grace with which he moved. He moved on from lifting weights, instead going over his katas and form with sword, the Wado Ichimonji. 

Robin’s chuckles brought you back to reality. Pouting, you gritted out, “Shut up.” You whirled around and meant to march right up to Zoro—what you were going to say was the issue of future you—but you walked head first into a broad chest and fell in a heap of limbs on the ground. 

Zoro’s eyes went wide, motionless as you glared up at him only for your eyes to soften instantly. Zoro huffed a laugh and reached out his hand. You eagerly accepted his help, jumping back to your feet and falling right into your habit of admiring every detail in his face. Your surprisingly strong grip remained on his wrist, your eyes darting between the flesh of his arm to his chesnut eyes. Zoro frowned deeply, confused, trying to tug his hand away and reeling at how strong your vice was. 

Blinking quickly out of your trance, you released him, stared blankly, and bolted below deck. Zoro watched carefully, having half a mind to call you back; he’d walked over to talk to you, after all. He liked talking to you (it was a shocking revelation he was still having trouble accepting).

Robin felt like an intruder on such moments, yet always found herself in the middle. She snapped shit her journal and Zoro’s head snapped in her direction, quickly darting his attention elsewhere. Robin let loose a sigh of exasperation. 

“Ridiculous.” Before Zoro could process whatever that meant, Robin was gone, leaving Zoro clutching his hand ot his chest and wondering why his skin crawled with the lingering sensation of your touch. He really couldn’t take much more of this. And neither could the crew.

“Every time they speak I feel like I’m walking in on a hook up,” Nami complained to Sanji. “They make asking about the weather feel sensual.”

Sanji chuckled to that. “Patience. Not everyone is as emotionally aware as you, darling.”

A week passed, and the usual brief glances and looks of longing exchanged readily. And then came the night of your watch. Everyone always knew when you had watch because you made it everyone else’s problem the whole day. Groaning and grunting, you lamented your lost sleep, and the others usually chuckled behind their hands whilst you sighed.

Usually, you spent your watch alone, charting the stars to pass the time and singing old sea shanties to keep yourself awake. But tonight was different; tonight, someone joined you.

Zoro’s footsteps thunked against the deck, startling you from your daydream. Shoulders dropping, you sent him a smile and went back to leaning against the mast. “Can’t sleep?”

“Nope,” Zoro sighed. He followed you gaze to the night sky. “Have they moved?”

“Have they—?” You paused to stare at him, mirth glittering in your eyes. “Have the stars moved?”

He flushed from his neck to his nose, only worsening at the sight of your blue-moon smile. “You know—are there new ones? Constellations. Don’t new ones appear when we’re in different areas?”

His frantic explanations only humored you more, dragging tiny chuckles out of you even as you nodded. “I know what you mean. Sorry for laughing… There are new ones. See there?” You sidled up to him and pointed to the left side of the sky. “There’s the South Mother. I could never see her back at my reef.”

Zoro’s brows met. “South Mother?”

“I think you call her Ursa Major,” you explained. “To us, she’s our ancestor, banished to the stars for loving a human.” Realizing how close you’d drawn to him, you glanced at Zoro before swiftly clearing your throat and stepping away. The tranquil quiet filled the space between you, before the stories of your childhood rose to the surface of your memory.

“My mother always told that story as a warning. Never deal with humans. They get you cast among the stars.” A tiny scoff left you, smile forming. “But my father? He told me South Mother was a revolutionary. Why shouldn’t she have loved a human? If she found one worth her time, then that’s her choice.”

You chanced a look at Zoro, locking eyes with him. You found it in yourself to not look away. “I always liked my father’s version better.”

Zoro nodded tentatively, unsure what to say if he should say anything at all. He settled for sitting against the mast, motioning for you to join him. You dropped down quickly, taking a spot on his right and resting you head against the wood. Minutes went by in blissful silence.

“Can I bite you?”

The question caught him off guard, Zoro lurching up to stare at you. His jaw agape, he found your expression to be one of utter seriousness, blinking at him expectantly. His swallowed thickly. “I—In what context?”

You shifted around to face him, waiting for him to do the same. “In the context that I want to bite you so no one else does.”

Reeling, Zoro managed a laugh, lips curling upward. “I don’t think you have to worry about anyone else biting me.”

“So you don’t want me to?”

“I didn’t say that.” Gods, what was he doing? He lowered his gaze, watching your hands fidget nervously with your boot laces. You were nervous… Glancing up, he saw that same nervous energy swarming your face. “Can I ask why you’re worried someone else will bite me?”

You thought back to your conversation with Robin, and her advice, and regretted ever bringing any of this up in the first place. It was all so stupid. You’d done so well of pushing all of this down… but he was waiting for an answer, and you’re quite certain you’d give Zoro anything he wanted.

“In my culture,” you started, “we bite those we… feel things for. It lets others know they’re talking with someone.”

Zoro understood what you actually wanted to say, no matter how hidden in your words it was. “And you want to talk with me?”

You wanted so much more than that. Honestly, you were clinging to your composure. He’s lucky you even asked first. “Yes. I do. And I don’t want you… talking to anyone else.”

Squinting at the space over Zoro’s shoulder, you awaited the blow of rejection. Surely, Zoro had other options. He was a warrior—strong, wise under all that moss on his head, and kind. Yet slowly, Zoro moved into your line of sight. His heart thundered around in his ribcage, his next sentence feeling silly, yet true. 

“Humans do something similar,” he offered. “You bite me… and I’ll bite you.”

You hadn’t expected to get this far. Nodding gently, you threw caution to the wind along with all the pretense. “All that is to say… I… Well, I understand the South Mother because I met you.”

Zoro’s gaze softened, his hands drawing you closer till his exhale fanned your face. You knelt before each other, a single question in his eyes, to which you nod and lean in if only to be near him. His hand cradled the back of your head, lips dancing across the skin of your neck, finding the spot that made you squirm and biting. Zoro had no fangs to sink into your flesh but it hardly made a difference; the mark was there, along with several others littered along your shoulder.

Letting out a shaky breath you gripped Zoro’s jaw before he could go any further and brought his face level with yours. Running your tongue over your two jutting fangs, you muttered, “Where?”

Zoro craned his neck to the side, his breathing heavy and pupils consuming his irises. You gently traced the line of his jaw, completely enamored, before latching onto the skin where his neck met his collarbone. Careful to not wound him, you bit down just enough to leave your mark. Zoro’s slight hiss had you soothing your tongue over the mark, remembering the feel of his lips on your skin, and copied his earlier ministrations. Zoro would deny it over and over, but he whined, and you would take that knowledge to your watery grave.

Come morning, imagine the crew’s surprise walking into the galley expecting the usual dance of awkward feelings, only to find the pair of you thick as thieves showing off the fresh territorial markings splayed across your necks. 

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@100520s @murnsondock

[grandline-fics]

Soft Mornings With You

DESCRIPTION: Lazy mornings with them

WARNINGS: none, just fluff

CHARACTERS: Marco, Crocodile, Sanji | Ace, Law, Mihawk

WORDS: 1,404

A/N: Another part of this scenario in honour of reaching 500 followers

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST - PROMPT LIST

——————

MARCO

It was rare for Marco to get the morning to spend extra time in bed so when he knew he didn’t have to get up right away he savoured the time immensely. Still he couldn’t help waking out of years of habit and routine while the rest of the ship was sleeping and the sun had only begun to rise. He didn’t mind so much, the peace was always welcome especially given how in just a few short hours the entire ship would be lively and chaotic. Plus the time also allowed him to admire you as you slept soundly beside him, your expression content and breathing relaxed. Marco smiled when you mumbled something in your sleep and stretched out. His smile slipped when you let out a small groan of discomfort when your back arched slightly. 

Immediately he closed the small amount of space remaining between you and ran his fingers along your spine, stopping when he felt the small knot that was causing you bother. Keeping her arm over you he let his powers activate until his blue wings enveloped you and the healing warmth seeped into you. Marco grinned to see you sigh in relief. Your eyes slowly opened and you smiled up at your lover. “You’re the best but it’s cruel to do this just before you need to get up and see to Pops.”

“Now, now I’m never cruel, especially not to you.” Marco chuckled, pressing a kiss against your temple. “I was given the morning off. It’s still early yet, go back to sleep love.”

“Are you going to be able to fall back asleep too?” You asked, craning your head back to look at him with a tender gaze. 

“Probably not but I don’t mind.” Marco shrugged lightly, continuing to trace light patterns against your back but frowned when you began to get up. “Hey, where do you think you’re going-yoi?” 

“Making the most of the quiet time we have. Come on, how often have we gotten to watch the sunrise together and that doesn’t include the times we’ve been partying with the rest of the crew?” You walked over the Marco’s side of the bed and playfully grabbed his wrist, pulling him to get out of bed but you knew you wouldn’t be able to completely make him budge unless he wanted to. 

With a grin Marco leapt up abruptly, moving fast enough to scoop you into his arms and carry you out of the room and onto the desk. Already sensing what he was planning you wrapped your arms around Marco’s neck to allow him to change his arms into wings and fly you to the top of one of the Moby Dick’s many masts. Holding you close and keeping you warm, Marco lay his cheek against your head as the two of you enjoyed the quiet and soft glow of the sunrise.  

CROCODILE

Crocodile finds the morning a time for brief contemplation before he has to rise and attend to his private matters. He’d never found a need to lie in and waste the morning away when there’s things to be done. However he has found that ever since you came into his life those early morning risings and getting straight to work have started to lessen. He was never a stranger to having an extra body in his bed for the brief company and warmth but this was different and that both agitated and baffled. How had he allowed this to happen? Lying on his back he turned his head to look down at you. 

You slept so soundly and peacefully, curled up on your side. Your head against his bicep and hand resting on his chest, blissfully unaware of the inner conflict going on in the mind of the man you were so relaxed around. Lazily Crocodile lifted his free arm to look at his hook glinting in the small amount of sunlight breaking through the gap in the curtains. A few years ago he would have cut anyone and anything he considered a weakness out of his life by any means necessary. He cast another glance down at your form. Part of him told him to steel his resolve and do just that. 

Then you moved in your sleep, beginning to roll away from him and immediately he acted out of his purest instinct and desire. Crocodile swiftly flexed his arm and lifted it slightly to redirect you so you instead rolled closer until you were slotted perfectly against him. He all but rolled his eyes when you smiled and nuzzled yourself closer against his chest. When you came along and managed to effortlessly root yourself under his skin and occupy his thoughts it was too late to do anything by the time he’d realised what had happened. He let out a small huff of annoyance at how you’d unknowingly proven that even he was capable of being human

“Croc?” You asked with a small yawn, stirring enough to look at him with sleepy eyes. “You need to get up?” You were prepared to move and let Crocodile get out of bed to ready himself for the day but you were surprised when his eyes slid closed for a moment and he shook his head. 

“Not just yet, dear.” He told you, letting his hand drop to your hip and smirked when you settled happily beside him and reached across to pull his hook closer so you could admire it, letting your fingers gently skim over the cold metal. Of course you would accept every part of him so easily without any hesitation. 

“So what plans for world domination have you planned today?” You asked playfully, smiling up at him as the two of you idly chatted and lay content together.

SANJI

Sanji point blank refused to surrender control of his kitchen to anyone and even if he did allow someone to cook, he would be there watching carefully and making sure nothing was disrupted or  inedible. The only time the need to be awake at dawn preparing everyone’s individual breakfasts was when the crew was docked on an island and staying with newly made friends or at an inn able to handle the hurricane that was Luffy. This was one such rarity. Sanji stretched out, savouring the novelty of experiencing the chance to lie in bed for as long as he wished but he couldn’t help but lightly drum his fingers against the fabric of the blanket draped over his body and yours.

“You’re so predictable.” Your sleepy laugh drifted up and Sanji looked to you, momentarily feeling guilty at the thought that he somehow managed to wake you. You however were used to waking at the same time as the crew’s chef. It was something your body just instinctively did now as well, happening not long after you and Sanji became a couple and started sharing a bed. Sanji relaxed to see you smiling gently, looking as beautiful as ever and thankfully not in anyway annoyed at him. “You want to cook even when you have the morning free.” You grinned. 

“You know me too well.” Sanji chuckled, wrapping his arms around you and drawing you closer against him for the shared warmth and comfort of your touch. “It’s like asking Luffy to part with his hat. I can’t help it.”

“We could sneak in to the kitchens…it’s still early.” You offered with a dangerous smile appearing at your own suggestion. 

“Love is that wise?” Sanji asked, unable to fight his own smile from appearing, watching as you were already beginning to sit up in the bed.

“Who’s going to tell us off? We’re pirates after all.” You shrugged lightly though you and Sanji both knew that if you two did go through with this and even if you weren’t caught you’d both be respectful of the kitchens and pay the staff fairly. “What do you say? Want to make me something delicious before Luffy wakes and clears out their entire supply of food with his order?”

Sanji grinned and got out the bed, moving to get dressed. He supposed while he was down there, he would be best to at least make a start of what Luffy needed for his enormous breakfast as a way of helping out the workers at the inn. But first he would see that you got the meal you wanted.

[alexa-fika]

HEY! HEY! HEYYY! IT'S MEE

Anyways today is now birthday 😍🎂 (A.k.a April 4)

Can I request a whitebeard pirates x fem child reader?

Like the reader is like nezuko from demon slayer

Let's say that reader comes with ace to find a cure

So basically ace was figthing jinbe and whitebeard arrives and then ace and whitebeard starts fighting until ace pass out but before ace can pass out reader attacks then because she's very protective of her family 🥺

Then they basically distract reader so that they can aboard ace into the ship then out of nowhere reader starts running around because the sun was rising and she has no option but to go with the whitebeard pirates

So basically everyone was suspicious because why was reader wearing a muzzle? And why does reader only comes out in the night or stays in shades?

But if anyone tries to question ace gets really defensive because he thinks they'll kill reader because she's a demon

So in the end whitebeard first found out then Marco then thatch (f u Blackbeard) then izou then everyone?

Thank youuuuu ✨✨

Demonically adorable (Whitebeard pirates x f!child!reader!)

Part 2 (Reactions)

A/N, im not gonna lie cosmo, I was totally gonna skip this one and leave it for later but I got to actually reading and looking back at when ace joined and omg the ideas just started flowing, some things are not exactly as your prompt or don’t go as in depth so I really hope you enjoyed this, because I certainly enjoyed writing it

Reader here is replaced by dokucha which stands for Reader in Japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

Dokucha's eyes widen as she runs towards Ace, trying to shake him awake, growling at the giant in front of them

“Hmm? So he has a little brat with him?”

The only response he receives is the sound of hisses and growls behind the child’s muzzle

“Back down, Dokucha, you’re no match for him…my father’s rival,” he grunts out

“I won’t lose,” he growls, beginning to stand up and ignoring the worried fussing of the child

“Heh, so you've still got some fight left, huh? Look, I'm not going to kill you today; you are far too valuable to someone to die here”, the man said, gesturing at the small child next to him

“Join me and become my son,” he says, reaching out his hand to the flame man

“Don’t screw with me, old fart,” he growls, slapping his hand away and launching himself toward the Emperor, only to be knocked back

Dokucha let out a sound close to a cry as she ran towards Ace, trying to shake him awake once again, snapping her head up at the sound of Whitebeard’s steps approaching them

She growls, standing in front of Ace, shielding him, her eyes shrinking to slits as the man continues to approach the two, her eyes glancing behind him as a blue flame approaches them

She watches as a blue flame grows closer until she is able to discern the shape of a bird landing next to the man

“Are we taking him with us?” He asks, glancing at Whitebeard

“Yes, he’s knocked out. He will be no problem, but I reckon the little one won’t go as easily.”

“I can handle her, Pops; Thatch will take care of the boy and his crew.”

“So I said, but you aren’t making this easy,” he sighs, evading another lunge from the girl

“And here I thought the other one would be the troublesome,” he spoke, catching a kick that he sent his way and pushing her back

She catches herself, gripping the ground with all fours as she immediately leaps towards him again, growling at him and showcasing the sharp canines now on full display, the muzzle long gone as her body begins to mature rapidly.

He quirks his head at that,

“That body of yours, is it the Toshi-toshi no mi?” He questions, flying out of the way to avoid her attack

She grits her teeth, looking at the airborne phoenix, preparing to jump up to meet him in the air until he suddenly flew down and trapped her between his talons

He hums, glancing at her expression, noting how the angry expression she had worn at the beginning had shifted to a worried one as she kept glancing around, presumably looking for Where they had taken Ace

“Hey,” he calls, frowning as she ignored his call as she tried to free herself

“Oi, Calm down, I'm not gonna hurt you,” he hollered, trying to settle her down

“You’re just trying to protect him, right?”

She pauses her attempts to free herself at the question

“We’re not going to hurt him; all the contrary, we want to help him,” he explained, huffing as she narrowed her eyes suspiciously

“I promise,” he said, returning his upper body to his human form as he raised his hands in a surrendering motion

“Listen, how about I take you to him? You can stay with him, and we can talk about this in the morning.”

She looks at him, nodding, as her body slowly returns to her original childish state

He kept her for a few seconds, trying to determine if she was really giving up, removing his talons when it was clear she had no more fight on her

She yawned, glancing around her to take in the room she was in; remembering the events of last night, she jumped off the bed, grabbing her umbrella, and poking her head outside of the room.

“Hey, pumkin’, I see you’re awake,” a voice pipes in

She looks towards the voice, spotting a man dressed in Chef clothes smiling back at her

She looks at him for a few moments before reaching one of her hands towards him, opening and shutting it as her other hand held the umbrella

He grins and easily picks her up

“What’s with the umbrella sweetpea?”

She points her hand up

“Hmm? The sun?”

She nods

“Are you sensitive to sunlight?”

Another nod

“Well, I’ll be damned, Marco did mention you were quite unique,” he said, looking her over, deciding not to comment on the bamboo piece between her teeth

“But just as cute, aren't ya, darlin?” He said, tickling her neck

Muffled giggles escape her at the action as she nuzzles deeper into him, trying to escape the sudden attack

They both turn at the sound of a door slamming open, looking as a disheveled Ace left the room, looking around, confused

“Looks like sleeping beauty finally woke up; how about we go say hi?

She leans the umbrella against his shoulder to free her hand as she pulls at his clothes

“Something wrong?”

She points at Ace, puts her hands together, leans her head against it in a sleeping motion, and then puts her wrists together, joining and separating her hands

“A sleeping crocodile?”

She shakes her head, repeating the motions

“Are you… are you trying to say he is snappy when he wakes up?”

She beams, nodding her head

He snickers at that

“I like you,” he said, walking closer to Ace as he threw himself against the walls of the ship, sliding all the way down and gripping his head only to snap it up at the sound of Thatch’s voice

“Hey, there; I'm Whitebeard’s fourth division commander, Thatch. I'm a good friend to have if you’re going to be joining us he said, sitting down on the railing, gingerly placing Dokucha on his lap

“Shut up!” He growls

“And give me back my sister he said, standing up and snatching the small girl from him, returning from his previous position as he hugged her

“Hahaha! She was right; you are kind of snappy when you wake up,” he teased as he continued to explain what had happened when he passed out, teasing him further when he questioned the lack of restraints on him, replying that such a thing was not needed on him.

The next few weeks were but a blur to the small girl, every day following the same pattern for a while. Every day, Ace would ask her to stay behind as he would go after Whitebeard only to be launched back repeatedly. During these times, Dokucha took to bonding with the different brothers on the ship, as they cared for her when Ace was busy with his assassination attempts.

“How many times has it been already?” Questioned Vista as he watched as once again Ace was thrown out of the Captain’s quarters

“More than a hundred”

“How could such a sweet thing be able to deal with that hothead, always madder than a wet hen, ain't that right pumkin’?” Thatch questions as he bounced the small girl on his legs, smiling at the muffled laughs that escaped her.

“Stop moving so much, Izou,” grumbled as he continued to work on the girl’s hair upon her request

“There you go,” he said, backing up with a smile

She beamed, jumping off Thatch’s lap and twirling around, showcasing her new hairdo

“Say, how come you wear that muzzle all the time?” Someone questions

“Mind your own business,” Ace grumbled, dripping wet as he passed them and snatching the small girl up as he went, who gave the men behind her a wave as she left

“I think your brother should be about done with his daily attempt. Should we get this to him?” Marco questioned the girl on his hip as his other hand held a bowl of soup, smiling as she bounced her head up and down

He chuckles at the action as he exits the kitchen and walks over to the spot where Ace laid, gently putting Dokucha and the bowl of soup next to him

A whine escaped the girl as he left, running after him as he took his leave

“Hey, what’s wrong? You can stay here with Ace. “ his actions differed from his words as he picked up the child again

“Tell me, why do they call him pops?” Ace grumbled, watching the interaction between the first mate and his sister

“Because he calls us sons, it’s just a word, but it’s nice, isn't it? Most of us are hated by everyone and don’t have families of our own, so that alone means everything to us,” he said, watching him for a moment and sighing, walking over to him and kneeling down, placing the girl next to them

“Hey, when are you going to stop this? I'm sorry to rain on your parade, but you aren’t strong enough to kill him, so you have two options: leave and start anew or stay and bear Whitebeard’s mark on your back,” he spoke

“Do try to keep your sister in mind when you make your choice, will you?

I do hope you decide to stick around; we’ve grown fond of the little miss.”

Ace found himself deep in thought; it seemed like only a day ago he had been mulling over if he would stay or if he would go; now he found himself mulling over if he should become a commander under Whitebeard or not; he glanced behind him as Dokucha ran circles between Marco and Thatch, the men struggling to keep up with her zigzagging.

He sighed as he made his final decision.

“Dokucha, come here”

So I don’t have full fledged scenarios on the reactions the crew members would react to the news but I do have already thought out how they would react so maybe I can do it in a headcannon format? 👀 Also I really tried to lean in into southern Thatch, without making it too much, what do yall think?

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[snapghoul]

Twins Headcanons

The differences of the twins.

Note: whaat? Snap posting twice?? Yes indeed! they consume my thoughts and I must share them before I combust.

TYLER

✩ Tyler’s hair is darker and longer.

✩ his eyes are a darker green by a few shades.

✩ He likes shirts with long sleeves, most of his wardrobe is flannels.

✩ he’s mildly deaf in his left ear from being stomped on while competing in bull riding. Tinnitus is an everyday thing for him.

✩ sometimes he can’t tell how loud he’s talking when he’s excited until someone tells him.

✩ he hates snakes

✩ he prefers country music, more specifically the classics (Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, etc.)

✩ his white cowboy hat is a comfort and a lucky item, it goes with him everywhere.

✩ hates being clean shaven.

✩ there’s a scar on the back of his thigh in the shape of a crescent from a bull when it broke his leg.

✩ has chronic pain in his shoulders. Ibuprofen is his best friend.

✩ Tyler is a half an inch taller

✩ left hand dominant.

✩ Tyler was born first

JAKE

✩ likes his hair short, he hates how it feels on his neck when it get too long.

✩ likes a clean shave, he hates the feeling of stubble especially when his mask in on while flying.

✩ can’t walk straight for the life of him, too conditioned to walk on ships, guaranteed to drift into someone when walking side by side.

✩ non intentional space invader, he doesn’t realize how close he is until he backs away. (Never apologizes unless it’s a stranger)

✩ ambidextrous (equal right and left hand dominance)

✩ likes dad rock.

✩ spinning and chewing his toothpick is an anxious fidget.

✩ afraid of the deep ocean.

✩ prefers short sleeved shirts.

✩ his collar bone aches when it’s colder outside after he broke it playing football.

✩ Jake’s hair is sun bleached.

✩ aside from a select few line dances, he can’t dance.

✩ always has mismatched socks because he looses the other or it gets ripped.

✩ Jake was the smaller of the two when born

[arcane-vagabond]

Fool's Fare: Chapter Twelve

Fool's Fare: Chapter Twelve

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Content Warning: Talks of death, Lots of anxiety, Reader has a mental breakdown kind of, Abandonment issues surface hardcore, Talk of curses, Talk of magic, Major angst, Sea shanty, Feelings of hopelessness, Davy Jones reveal! I think that's everything, but please let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 4.2k

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist

The port of St. Augustine was much like any other port you had found yourself in. The marketplace bustled with activity, the sellers promoting their wears as others scurried about to and fro on the streets. The sun beat down, casting a fog of humidity that threatened to choke the air from your lungs.

It had been two weeks since the serpent’s attack, and the crew of the Hangman had been stranded in the large port, sequestering themselves to one of the local pubs until repairs to the broken mast were finished.

Jake had been in a foul mood since the encounter, the looming deadline heavy on his mind, and on more than one occasion you had woken up to the sound of his distressed murmurs as he slept beside you. He had flat out refused to leave your side for longer than a few minutes since the attack, anxiety and distress coloring his features every time you looked at him. You knew he feared losing you, you could feel it in the way he held you these days, the end drawing nearer with each passing of the sun across the horizon. But wasn’t it you who should be afraid of losing him? You weren’t the one in danger of falling victim to a curse.

A bothersome fly pulled you from your thoughts, the whining of its movement sparking irritation in your chest. It was too damn hot for the pesky thing to be bothering you. You pulled your hand out from under your chin, swatting at the insect as it flew just out of your reach. It zoomed back towards you, wings fluttering in your face as if to taunt you. An exasperated exhale escaped your lips as you glared daggers at the offending beast.

“You look miserable.”

You turned to see Nat approaching you slowly, a wry smile on her lips as you gave her a tight-lipped smile—an attempt you were sure came out as more of a grimace than an actual smile. You wiped the sweat drenched strand of hair out of your face, offering her a shrug as you turned your attention back to the street outside. She sighed, coming up to sit at the sill beside you. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the different groups of people as they flitted about the street. The silence grew more tense as the time dragged on, and you could tell that Natasha wanted to say something to you. Glancing at her from the corner of your eye, you saw her chewing on her bottom lip, deep in thought.

“How’s Mickey today?” You asked her. His screams of agony were still fresh in your mind, the scarlet on his clothes vivid in your mind as he writhed on the decks of the ship. Javy had been the one to stop the blood flow, securing the bandage around Mickey’s thigh tight enough to put a temporary fix to the problem without causing more damage. You watched as Javy and Reuben picked Mickey up on either end, carrying him towards the cabins. Mickey had already passed out, a layer of sweat coating his pallid skin. Nausea roiled in your stomach, your breathing coming out in quick spurts.

You jumped as Jake came up behind you, brushing your hand with his fingertips. Your eyes darted towards him, unease settled deep in your bones.

“Is he going to be okay?” You whispered, looking at the captain for any kind of answer. Jake sucked in a breath, and it occurred to you that you had never seen him look so at a loss.

“I don’t know,” he answered, hanging his head. His hands flexed at his side before balling them into tight fists. You looked from him back towards the sea. The serpent and the British ship were already out of sight as the Hangman limped towards shore. You were sure the men on the other ship were all dead, the serpent’s hunger sated until the next unsuspecting ship made its way into the waters.

“Those men,” you continued, brow furrowing in thought. “The one’s the serpent-”

You stopped yourself from finishing the sentence, pressing your lips into a thin line as Jake glanced at you, waiting.

“Are they dead?” You asked, looking back at him. You didn’t know how the curse worked in cases like this. Yes, they could be hurt. You knew that much. But would something like what had just occurred be enough to kill them?

Jake sucked in a sharp breath, eyes widening as he dared to look back towards the water.

“I hope so.”

You had reached the port of St. Augustine early the next morning, the cold light of dawn at your backs as each crew member heaved a weary sigh. Reuben had departed the ship as soon as the gangway was in place, running to find a doctor to see after Mickey. The rest of the crew waited around anxiously, some busying themselves with tasks around the ship as everyone waited for news on Mickey’s condition.

“He’s doing a lot better today,” Nat told you, a tired grunt leaving her lips as she settled further back against the wall. You nodded, closing your eyes in a bid to ignore the heat that threatened to swallow you whole.

“Doesn’t change the fact that you still look miserable,” she prodded, earning a less than enthused grunt from you. You sighed, leaning up and stretching out your shoulders.

“I suppose I could be doing better,” you admitted, finally turning your full attention to her. She pressed her lips together, humming in agreement.

“The deadline is only a few days away,” she said, and your heart jumped at the reminder before curling in on itself. Her words were the exact reason you had been keeping to yourself the past week, dread filling you down to your very soul as the days loomed and the dreaded deadline approached faster and faster. The anxiety kept you awake well into the night, clawing at your mind until it was all you could think about. You hadn’t known sleep in days.

“Jake’s been awfully tense,” she pressed. “Rightfully so, I guess. Javy won’t show it, but I know he’s worried too. I can see it in the way he holds his shoulders. He fidgets more than usual too when he’s nervous. I do my best to soothe his worries, and I think he forgets for a little while, but…”

Her voice drifts off to silence, an air of uncertainty surrounding her. You understood what she was feeling. The moments of sleep Jake could get were spent in fitful movements as even his unconscious mind was unable to find peace amongst the chaos. You would curl up closer to him in those moments, resting your head against his chest and listening to his heartbeat. Fingers would glide up and down his arm, and your presence seemed to calm him enough that he would still, if only for a little while. You asked him early on what he dreamed of in those moments, but his eyes would glaze over as his lips pressed firm, a faraway look in his eyes before he would shake his head and walk away, shoulders hunched as if in defeat.

Bradley didn’t fare much better when you tried talking to him. The usually playful, happy-go-lucky man you knew and loved had all but disappeared. All that was left was a shell of a man who looked and sounded like your brother, but seemed to be a complete stranger to you now in these past days. You had tried talking to him, to get a sense of where his head was at, but much like your captain, no words would leave his lips. He would only stare at you, almost looking through you before turning and walking away.

You felt like you would lose your mind, like the concern and anxiety was building up so completely within you. It reminded you of how your mother once was when your father would leave for his voyages.

She’d pace around the house, busying herself with as many tasks as she could—sometimes repeating them two or three times in a bid to keep her hands busy and mind from drifting towards thoughts of the unimaginable. On more than one occasion, you’d come home to find her staring out towards the water, a faraway look in her eye. You always wondered what she was thinking about in those moments, but now you were sure you knew.

“I don’t think it’s possible to forget the ocean’s secrets,” you replied, focusing once more on the busy street outside. “The ocean will always remind you why it’s not to be crossed.”

Natasha didn’t respond, only looked at you. You didn’t acknowledge her, letting your mind wander to thoughts of what would happen if you all were to fail. Would the curse turn them into mindless monsters? Would the change be immediate? Or would you lose those you hold most dear slowly as their unslaked desire coursed through their veins for eternity?

Your friend heaved a heavy sigh before standing. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but must have thought better of it before turning on her heels and walking away. You wished you could provide her with some kind of comfort, some certainty that things would be okay. But, you could hardly convince yourself of it, let alone another.

The afternoon passed slowly, your vigil by the window continuing on even as the pub filled with sailors and your own crew. Mickey had managed to heal enough to walk, though his usually golden skin still seemed somewhat dull after his experience. The crew drank as if there were no tomorrow, and you supposed there might not be. Locals took up space by the piano, different jigs and tunes ringing out amongst the crowd as several people joined in with lyrics. You wished you could join in the merriment, bring yourself to forget for just one moment that a mere guess wouldn’t decide your fate.

Jake, Bradley, and the rest of your friends sat hunched around one of the tables across from where you sat, none of them able to meet your gaze, and a mixture of anger and loneliness filled you. Is this what your days would look like? Would they go off and leave you behind to face a life of solitude? Would they expect you to forget them?

For another moment, you were reminded once again of your mother, only this time you remembered her as she waited for that last voyage. You could tell that something was different that time, the air more tense as she paced around your home. The song she would hum under her breath the only sound she would make for days. You thought of that song, how lonely and full of despair the words sounded. You thought of how sad your mother always sounded every time she would sing it, and before you even realized, the words were leaving your lips quietly, slowly building to be heard above the hum of conversation filling the room.

“I thought I heard the Old Man say: ‘Leave her, Johnny, leave her.’ Tomorrow you will get your pay, and it's time for us to leave her.”

Several heads turned towards you as you sang, your voice clear as you felt the emotion you had worked so hard to keep tamped down swirl within you.

“Leave her, Johnny, leave her! Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her! For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow And it's time for us to leave her.”

The conversation died down now, and you supposed you would feel self conscious under normal circumstances, but something within you longed to break free and be heard. You had long stayed quiet in fear of upsetting those around you with your own feelings. Of course, you had had your few moments where you couldn’t keep the worries and feelings within you, your fears bursting forth and out of you over the past few months on sea.

“Oh, the wind was foul and the sea ran high. ‘Leave her, Johnny, leave her!’ She shipped it green and none went by. And it's time for us to leave her.”

The conversation had stopped completely at this point, but you were only vaguely aware of your audience. The words themselves haunted you, and you knew how your mother had felt all those years ago. You wondered if she felt the exact moment she had lost your father to the sea.

“Leave her, Johnny, leave her! Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her! For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow And it's time for us to leave her.”

Had your father been scared in his final moments? Did the waves tower over him life in the song you now sang? Had he faced the towering waves head on in the way he faced everything in life? Or had looking death in the face been too much for him? Did he think of you? Your mother? Bradley? Or did he lament the things he hadn’t done, the things he had failed to do?

“I hate to sail on this rotten tub. ‘Leave her, Johnny, leave her!’ No grog allowed and rotten grub. And it's time for us to leave her.”

Several people within the pub now joined in your singing, voices ringing out in unison. For the first time since you started, you dared a look over at the table where the others sat. Remorse colored both Jake and Bradley’s faces, the whisper of tears in their eyes as they watched you. Your heart squeezed so tight, you wondered for a moment if it would burst. You hadn’t meant for the tears to flow, and you were shocked when a cool, night breeze blew in from outside, cooling the trickle that streamed down your cheeks.

“Leave her, Johnny, leave her! Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her! For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow And it's time for us to leave her.”

You choked on the words, unable to continue as those around you continued on. Your world would change in a few days, and there was nothing you could do about it. For the first time, hope seemed too far out of reach, slipping through your grasp as the realization that you would truly be alone for the first time gripped you tightly, refusing to let go.

“We swear by rote for want of more. ‘Leave her, Johnny, leave her!’ But now we're through so we'll go on shore. And it's time for us to leave her.

Leave her, Johnny, leave her! Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her! For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow And it's time for us to leave her.”

You let out a quiet sob as you pushed off from your seat, practically running out of the pub. The door banged against the wall with a loud crack, the echo of laughter and conversation chasing after you into the dark street. Another tune started up, a jollier shanty than the one you had led everyone in, but the joy and merriment found in the pub did not reach you in that moment, despair digging its claws into you as you stalked down the street with no mind to where you were heading.

The world swam around you, blurred by your tears. Your chest and head hurt from how hard you sobbed, your arms wrapped around your middle in an attempt keep yourself together, to keep yourself whole.

You staggered, coming to a stop next to building, leaning your weight against the sturdy structure as you fought to gain back your composure. A hand landed on your shoulder, ripping you out of your breakdown. You looked up with wet, wide eyes to meet a sea of concerned green.

Jake didn’t hesitate to try and pull you close, moving to wrap his arms around you in a soothing gesture, but you shook your head, pressing a hand to his chest to keep him away. His brow furrowed in confusion, thumb reaching up absentmindedly to wipe away your tears. You jerked away from him, shaking your head more vigorously.

“No,” you croaked, another sob wracking through you.

“Guppy,” he started, taking a step closer to you, but you shoved at him this time.

“No,” you stated more firmly, shooting him an angry, wild look that had him balking. “I don’t want your pity, or your comfort, or anything else you’re trying to bestow upon me. Not when it’ll all be for nothing.”

“What are you talking about?” He sighed out, an edge to his tone. You sniffled, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand as you attempted to stand tall.

“I can’t keep relying on you,” you uttered. “Not when this time in only four days, I won’t have you anymore. I’ll be alone. I’ll have no one except maybe Nat, but even that’s not a guarantee. In a few days' time, you’ll face Davy Jones, and not knowing how that will end, terrifies me.”

Jake didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there and watched you with an indiscernible expression. Finally, he set his jaw and stepped close, pulling you into his arms. A large hand cradled your face, pulling your face up towards his.

“I’m not leaving you, sweet girl,” he said, thumb stroking across your cheek. You squeezed your eyes shut as a new wave of tears threatened to spill over.

“You don’t know that,” you whispered in return.

“I do though,” he retorted. “I know everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. Even if I’m doomed to live a cursed life, a life where I will never know peace or satisfaction again, it would be a far worse fate to not have you by my side.”

You couldn’t stop the sob that shook you, choosing instead to hide your face against his chest. Jake let out a low hum, smoothing his hand over the back of your head as he rocked you gently until the sobs died down once more.

“Trust me, Guppy,” he murmured, moving his hand to dig something out of his coat. “This will buy us our freedom.”

You turned your head to see him holding up the Soul of Polaris, the gem seeming to glow in the moonlight. You swallowed thickly, watching as it rotated slowly in his hold.

“What does it show you?” You asked quietly, gripping his shirt a little harder in your hands.

“What?” Jake asked, sounding perplexed.

“When I first saw it,” you explained, “the man who had it said that it guided a person to what it was they needed most.”

You turned your head to gaze up at him. “So, what is it that it shows you?”

Jake looked at you for a moment, eyes wide in surprise before he shifted his focus towards the gem. His brow furrowed once more as he pressed his lips together, pondering what he should say.

“We should head back,” he said finally, pocketing the gem once more as he guided you back down the street.

Four days later, the newly repaired Hangman rocked in the ocean waves as it headed up the coast towards North Carolina. The air aboard the ship had grown thick with mounting tension and anxiety, the air so thick you swore you could cut it with one of Bob’s kitchen knives.

The fog that surrounded the waters didn’t help matters, setting a decidedly somber mood as the crew waited for their fates to be decided. Sunset was approaching, something you could tell despite the blanket of fog that hid the sun from view. Jake hadn’t stopped pacing the length of the deck for two hours, and just watching him had you on edge. He had already snapped at three crew members for, admittedly, small infractions, and you were starting to wonder if he’d keep his sanity long enough to see Davy Jones at this point.

“Captain,” Javy called from the helm, face tight with his own anxiety, though his tells were less obvious compared to everyone else’s. Jake’s head snapped up to look at him, back rigid as he paused mid-step.

“We’re here,” Javy announced, dipping his head at his best friend. Jake sucked in a breath, teeth gnawing at the inside of his cheek. After a moment, he blew out, nodding his head as he swallowed thickly.

“Yeah,” he muttered, nodding more determinedly. “Yeah, alright. Bradshaw, Guppy. You’re with me. Everyone else, stay put until I get back.”

You were shocked that he picked you and Bradley, certain he would have chosen Javy or Natasha. You didn’t say anything as you followed him and Bradley towards one of the lifeboats. Natasha already stood by the railing, waiting for the captain to approach.

“You’re leaving me behind?” She challenged as you all approached, Javy descending the stairs at the same time. Jake raised his chin at her, a grimace pulling on his lips.

“I trust you and Javy to look after the ship while I’m away,” he explained. “But, I still need people I can trust with me—people I can depend on if this goes south. Bradshaw will act as my muscle, and we’ve seen how things react around Guppy.”

Natasha mulled over his words for a moment before nodding in agreement.

“Be careful out there,” she implored. “We’ve already had one crew member mangled by something magical.”

Jake shot her a grateful look before turning his attention to Javy who had saddled up behind her. The two shared a silent exchange before clasping their forearms and pulling each other in for a one-armed hug. The two pulled away at the same time, and Javy offered the captain a nod.

“Good luck,” he said. Jake nodded back at him before turning back towards the lifeboat. He let out a long, weary sigh before stepping forward with you and Bradley not far behind.

The fog clung to your skin, giving you the feeling of walking through water as the sand shifted beneath your feet. Jake and Bradley had hauled the boat up out of the water and further onto the beach before the three of you set out to find the spot where Davy Jones would be waiting.

The wind whipped around you, ruffling your clothes and sending a chill down your spine. You ignored it, knowing what lay ahead of you already had a frigid feeling coursing through your veins as the sky began to grow darker. Jake’s pace began to increase as the clock counted down, his hands clenching and unclenching as the three of you continued on.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Bradley asked, peering at the captain from the corner of his eye. Jake’s frown deepened as he shot the brunette a sharp look.

“Yes,” he snapped, stopping suddenly. “This is the place.”

You looked around, noting the cliffs that hung just above your head, the grass swaying in the wind as the waves crashed against the rocky shore. Bradley looked around as Jake stared down at his feet. You perched atop one of the rocks, bringing your knees up to your chin as your attention flickered between the two men.

“Did we miss him?” Bradley prodded, hands in his pockets as he walked around in a circle. “Shouldn’t he be here already?”

“I don’t know Bradshaw,” Jake snapped once more, an irritated glint in his eye. “We didn’t exactly exchange letters on what time to meet.”

A familiar hum prickled at the back of your neck, your back straightening as a knowing feeling overcame you. You twisted your neck to the right, looking down the beach towards the opposite way you came. In the growing shadows and through the fog, a tall figure began to emerge, their coat billowing behind them.

“Look!” You exclaimed, scrambling to your feet as you pointed a finger at the figure. Jake and Bradley turned to where you gestured, postures alert and on guard as they spotted the figure too. The humming grew in intensity as the figure drew closer, but there was no sense of danger that accompanied it like there had been with Thetis, the sirens, and the serpent. No, in place of danger, there was only the sense of familiarity, and confusion tickled at the back of your mind.

The fog and shadows obscured the figure as it stopped by some rocks a few yards away. You squinted, trying to make out any discernable features, but you couldn’t help but feel you knew the person who stood in front of you. A soft scratch sounded as the figure struck a match, the small flame illuminating his face as he lit the pipe that hung at his lips. Shock coursed through you as you recognized the blue eyes and weathered face that stared back at your group, the embers of tobacco letting out a puff of smoke as he exhaled.

You blinked, not quite believing what you were seeing, and you knew Bradley’s expression must have mirrored your own in that moment.

“Tom?”

A/N: Wooooooooow! I can't believe it's finally here, y'all! What do we think? How are we feeling? What on earth is going to happen next???

It feels so good to finally get this one off my chest, I've been sitting on it for sooooooo long! Like...the amount of times I almost slipped up and told y'all everything is embarrassing, quite frankly.

As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. I no longer do taglists, so if you would like to be notified on when I post, please follow my sideblog ( @arcanevagabond-library ) and turn on post notifications! You can find me and my works on AO3 under the username arcane_vagabond. Until next time!

[moonbeammist]

The Peasant's Secret (Part 2)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Dune characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them. taglist from Part 1: @aoi-targaryen

I don't give permission for any of my fanfiction to be posted, this is also cross posted on my account w/ Archive of our own :)

PAIRINGS: Feyd Rautha x Fem!Fighter!Reader

AUTHORS NOTE: Hey! l'm excited that I continued this. Honestly, couldn't get it out of my head until I did. I really hope you enjoy it, feedback is most welcome. New readers, read Part 1 for context and character, if not, this can be read as a solo fic too 💖

WARNINGS: (Adults only 18+) DARK! profanity, extreme violence, torture, gore, sadism, masochism, dubious consent, erotic undertones, heavy petting, reader is a fighter who get's extremly hurt, bigotry against the poor, very immersive, intimacy, touching, feyd-rautha is his sick self, public humiliation, light smut

Feyd is at his most sadistic - please mind the warnings. I really wanted to explore that in writing because I feel it's such a big part of his character. Honestly Dune Part Two inspired the hell out of me, and looks like I'm not the only one judging by some of the brilliant writers on this site. Thank you for inspiring me too.. I poured everything into this.

SUMMARY: As a rice-harvester hailing from Planet Caladan, you knew these things to be true. You and your people were "peasant scum". And as far as you can tell, peasant scum deserved a shot at the vast unknown as much as any noble folk did. Even if the only thing protecting you is a flawed battle-tactic and the falsehoods that you tell yourself. Even if it has you riding a wave into the wicked evils that lie.

WORD COUNT: 10.3k words (yes it's long, but enjoy the ride, take breaks, ect.) ❤️

PART 1 PART 2

It’s scalding, the black ebb of the sun in Giedi Prime. But you are well hydrated and fed.

Previously, when you were aboard the ship with Count Fenring in the depths of space, he made sure you and the small group of rice labourers that stayed behind were treated. Various platters of eclectic fruits, aged cheeses, proteins, and beverages were presented before you on a wooden table, the Count encouraging the hesitant Caladan rice cultivators with a wave of his hand. Almost in unison, they dived for the food at his proclamation, knives and forks clashing. You couldn’t tell what animal you were gnawing on as you slobbered it down, only fixated on filling the hole of anxiety that grew, every so slowly, deep in your belly. You volunteered to be here on the basis of... being Harkonnen entertainment, mixed with a blind, selfish jump into the illogical.

And for what?

So you don’t deserve to feel this uncertainty. You did it to your damn self. Wanting to prove... something, anything. What that was exactly you couldn’t pinpoint, except a growing need to see yourself capable of a different path than the comfortable life you grew to know. Your mother’s words came to you again, flying through the vastness of the galaxy.

“You should go.” A pause. “Live for us.”

Her words spread through you like a viper, a sliver of hope returning to you.

You’re covered by the dark canopy of the nestled burrow underneath the stands of the large dome-like arena, filled to the brim with Harkonnen porcelain heads. You can see a partial view from here—a small peek, but enough for multiple stark heads to pop through. The hard, black metal doors were closed all the way, save for that small crack. Their starving, needy chants are ear splitting to you; you can hear them all around you in these walls beside your fellow fighters. Here you are, like a feast for them—ripe, hot-blooded, and ready for the taking. 

You keep your hair cropped short just under your cheekbones for battle, falling messily over your face in a choppy cut. The length made sense under these circumstances.

Last night, after filling yourself with food and beverage and thanking the Count on the ship, you pushed your way past the other passengers to the ship’s restrooms with slight impatience, a mulled over idea that has been eating at you finally coming to the forefront. Seeing your hollow, adrenalized eyes in the mirror, your hand reached to your thigh, brandishing the emerald handle of the small blade you were given as a courtesy. Unlatching it from its leather harness with a click, your arm juts out to swipe your tresses away, the ends falling like a blanket on the floor. You did not need to make yourself a target on the hairless planet, that is for certain. Not like this, not so obviously. 

They can already see what you are, you know.

Your conscious crows at you, and your teeth come out to play with your bottom lip, chewing it. That’s not why. When you were shoving food down at the table with your fellow people during mealtime, you received a more in-depth, private discussion about Giedi Prime and House Harkonnen’s culture and traditions, along with a long spiel on the opponent you and your fellow peasant fighters would be privy to facing. 

The Count’s voice was almost a warning to all, and you could’ve sworn his eyes rested on you too many times for it to be a coincidence. Obviously, being the opposite sex in the Harkonnen arena is going to come with a target on your back. In Giedi Prime, usually, they had a target on your back no matter what, but they usually fell into four prime categories: pleasure slave, handmaiden, visiting Bene Gesserit, or noblewoman. And obviously, they’re going to make out by your form, that you’re not a big, burly slave-gladiator. But some type of amateur, dodging, slave-gladiator nonetheless.

The issue is that you don’t want the nephew, that psychopathic nephew of the Baron—Feyd-fucking-Rautha grabbing a long mop of hair and whipping it around the arena like a toy, a rag doll. And you don’t want something as silly as hair being used as fodder against you, like a joke. You had gathered the length of hair in the disposable bin, cleaning up the mess on the marbled floor in finality.

You glance up to catch yourself in the mirror, and your pulse quickens. You run your fingers through your short locks, the pieces framing your face. You feel renewed, refreshed.

You feel more like yourself than ever before.

The guttural melody seemed to increase in speed across the walls underneath the arena, bouncing off the ground. You could feel the voices, deep in the earth, the soles of your feet vibrating against your boot. You peered into the backs of the heads of your crew. You knew that your time was getting closer. Uneasiness, but also a slight giddiness that shouldn’t belong, bubbled up within you. 

Why?

The small group of men that you came with from Caladan were also branding themselves as inexperienced rice labourers. As men, it was common for them to get in spats or tussles about gods-knows-what. They had experience in that sense. For the fairer sex, all you had was your mother’s encouragement to take an interest in the art of dodging, the defensive battle strategy known as "The Peasant’s Secret." There weren't many ladies, as far as you could tell, who were following suit. They had more important things to register, like feeding their children, you mused. The peasant men were taught it too, as they weren’t permitted weapons, armour, and the like. But it didn’t seem like they held it in high regard as often as you did. They practiced being on the offensive with their knuckles for light fun, with a masculated zeal. You questioned why they were here, as it would seem they dared not want anything else than an honest day’s work, being able to daze upon the fields with a wife warming their bed. But you wondered if the few that came grew bored of their mundane life and little free time, and were willing to put themselves on the line of fire today like you. 

Stupid, silly peasants you all were. Couldn’t just be happy with what was given to you. Couldn’t just lay your head down on rice grain forever. 

Just wanted a small hit of dopamine to the psyche, it would seem.

Without notice, a speaker made himself known above you—and it must have been from the very top, the very perch of the arena. The Baron of House Harkonnen’s rough voice pummelling into the pits below. “Citizens of Giedi Prime, and most welcome visitors,” he began. “We have quite the show for you today, most definitely... Count Hasimir Fenring has brought with him mere-" he pauses to chuckle as it reverberates through your mind, and you make a note of his happiness. It already confirmed what you knew to be true.

He continues. “Rice harvesters from Caladan who would like to join in on today’s festivities. Mind you, they volunteered their time here as well, so we shall see what they have to offer.”

A more ominous-sounding laugh is heard.

“How exciting, dear nephew, for you to enjoy this treat. Some low-born entertainment as a warm-up. We shall commence shortly.”

The audience chanted their sick appreciation at this news, their cheers echoing across the skies.

You gulped your saliva down. A warm-up, yes, of course. That makes sense.

It’s here. You’re here. Pacing, jumping up and down, in your murky, brown cloth. Amping yourself up.

Tight, tattered dark brown shorts adorned your knees, with strings tying the garment in place at your hips. To counter that, a long, light brown quarter-sleeve tunic swamps your form, belted at the waist with a large buckle securing it. Under the belt, the bottom of it is cut into two sections, split right down the middle, revealing your shorts in a fashion with athleticism and movement in mind. It’s lightweight and loose, allowing your bindings and skin to breathe in the hot weather.

In just a moment, the doors to the arena pits would open, and you would face the deviant that awaits. But you would not be alone. At least in the beginning. 

You turn to glance beside you at the men accompanying you. The men stood beside, in front, and behind you, their large frames slightly swarming you. You briefly imagined them emerging into the arena like some low-born three-course meal for the Na-Baron. You wordlessly prayed that you would not be considered a part of the appetizer.

“Come,” a man you knew by the name of Rexen, threw his arms around your shoulders and jostled you out of your ponderings. His hair was a deep black, matching his unkempt brows and scraggly beard. His face was warm and friendly, and his stare was earnest. “Join us for a moment.”

You walk with him a mere two steps before he gently pushes your body forward, and your eyes take in the slight change of everyone’s chest now visible to you. Your home planet’s men’s faces rapt with attention on each other. They are now huddled in the formation of a small circle. Rexen leans forward, and you follow suit, huddling even closer into the group, shoulders touching.

A glow of comfort envelops you, a piece of home.

“We are not a skilled people,” Rexen graciously offers, his head dipping low as he mutters this. His eyebrows raise as he anchors his head against yours and the men surrounding. “Most of our people did not want to be here. But for those that remain, we need not concern ourselves with why we are here. Just that we’re here to put on a show, for the holier than thou fucks.” He grins at his quip, his teeth slightly yellow in colour, stained from poor hygiene. Laughter emits from his chest, and the men barrel with much-too-energetic laughter for the situation.

You feel bizarre. You definitely came with the... what would you call those with no regard for their own self-preservation? 

Lunatics? 

But chillingly, you find yourself chuckling along with them, joining them in their message. Joining their showmanship. You’re here after all. That makes you one of them. You grin ear-to-ear as you laugh along with the men.

Something breaks you out of your glorified stupor. You hear a muffled chant just outside the doors. A pause. They were speaking in syllables. 

“Feyd-Rauth-Ah!” Again. “Feyd-Rauth-Ah!” And again. “Feyd-Rauth-Ah!”

Before any of you have a chance to compose yourself, the doors behind you slowly split open, and you eye the entrance to the arena with a spike of endorphins settling like butterflies in your stomach.

It unfolds, unlatches, and stretches out.

Until you’re cast in a perfect halo of light, the bleak colour seemingly burns your eyes for a moment.

There. It’s adjusting.

Your eyes adjust to the toxic atmosphere once again. You now have a more personalized viewpoint of what is to come; your perspective now shows a closer point of view of the arena as you break away from your fellow fighters and shakily take one step forward to the substantial crowd. The energy in the crowd shifted considerably to a higher plane, and you can literally feel the noise cover you in a blanket of sound, and you’re vibrating. You don’t turn to pay attention to your peers as they slowly spill out of the doorway.

The guttural native tongue of the Harkonnen boomed through the air, the announcer’s voice telling a story with his words. It all became white noise next to your thrumming heart.

At the opposite end of the arena, it’s... him.

His bleached, ghostly white silhouette sauntered several yards away with a slow swagger. The distance dwarfs his form slightly. Black on black. Everything he’s wearing is black, jutting out from his body to clearly signify a plate of armour atop his chest, ribs, shoulders, and legs. A combat suit absolutely made for battle.

The good news was that his skull and neck, seemingly attached by his bulging shoulder plates, was exposed. The sight of his hands clutching two considerably large Crysknives on either side of him made you pause. His wrists jumbled up and down, playing with blades.

Moving in an angular motion, you make a beeline for a darker area along the arena wall. You now notice your companions are already scattered all over the arena, the restlessness in their scurried steps now known to the sole Harkonnen. You’re sure he can smell them from where he is, and you want to perhaps blend in with the wall for a bit while you plan your next move.

He hasn’t noticed you yet as he charges forward, the speed in his steps like lightning.

You quicken your pace to the side of him, against the wall, out of sight as he spots a single peasant man squaring up to challenge him.

Your gaze is transfixed on them as you continue to walk backwards to the wall.

Feyd-Rautha is closer now, towards the centre of the Arena. The way he moves is like a freight train, all at once, and not a single part of him is apologetic for it. Your friend, your... companion, who had his head pressed to you moments earlier, had you clenching your teeth in anticipation at his first swivel around Feyd-Rautha’s Crysknife. The man ducked, barely grazing Feyd-Rautha’s blade as it sliced through the air. You hear a deep, grovelling chuckle, the sound making you freeze. It’s alien.. It’s so, so deep.

He doesn’t even sound real.

You glance at him while side-stepping, grateful his attentions are on the burly man’s arms flying at him like a circular typhoon. The man was already so tired; he was slowing down.

Feyd-Rautha exhales, curving the Crysknife in an upward motion, pushing it to the hilt, the squish of the male being impaled hauntingly audible. “That’s the spot.”

Like a caricature of doom, the voice of the man had a guttural, raspy quality to it. So low but with an unusual lilt at the end of his words.

Feyd-Rautha grabs the man by his shoulders and flings his heaving body to the ground, removing his painted red Crysknife from the man’s gut.

He barrels onward, heading further away from you, his eyes lit aflame.

You cannot deny that you’re in shock at the raw energy, but you take several breaths to calm yourself down, reminding yourself you just haven't ever been in an arena before. This is how it goes. Randomly, your back collides with something warm as you're breathing in and out. 

Jostled, your breath hitches as you whip around at the feeling. 

A clicking sound speeds up at your collision, erupting from a black, horned... genetically modified something.

God knows what that is, but you knew by its circling movements it was there to service the arena as its handler, keeping a watchful eye. There seemed to be another one roaming where Feyd-Rautha was, to your far left.

You raise your hands up, hearing the clicking intensify in warning. “Apologies.” You nervously laugh, wondering if it even cared for your apologies at a time like this.

You hear yet another man falling to the ground behind you, your gaze darting to the sight of him rolling, trying to swerve the absolute onslaught of the animal standing above him.

All your planning and all your battle-tactic calculations were lost in the wind, it seemed. It didn’t matter anymore because you were so fucking nervous.

No, it’s okay.

A small voice inside you encouraged.

You need to utilize “The Peasant’s Secret” in front of this crowd of evil eggheads, even if it’s not perfect.

You feel cracked mentally to even be joking to yourself at a time like this, but the fleeting sentiment is all you need to feel better. It was time to give yourself some grace.

You glanced at the horned handler once more as it retreated, before facing the savagery you knew you needed to keep your eyes locked on... Rexen, the man who pulled you aside earlier, was moaning in agony, his eyes bloodshot. You felt a fluttering sensation in your stomach. Alone and gushing, flowing, a stream of blood spilled out from his sopping open wound into the arena pit.

You remember his joyous remark that he was going to put on a show as you watched the life drain from his face.

You feel a prickling sensation at the back of your neck, like something in the air has shifted.

A BANG snaps you out of your reverie.

Isolating the noise, you lock in on it. There, now dangerously close, a looming presence carefully studying you. Feyd-Rautha’s hard, deep stare. He was standing a few feet away from you on the right side of the arena wall, his leg kicking at the wall animatedly. 

BANG

He hit it again, and as he finished, his armour-clad legs seemed to click together. His pale face was plastered with a delighted expression that met the depths of depravity. As your gaze flickered over him, you noticed an open mouth, a row of black teeth, the shade of the darkest midnight, smiling in glee, seeming to be proud of his announcement.

“Just a few more of the rodents,” he sneered, his eyes gleaming with giddiness.

You hold your breath in fear, stopping all at once. You know making a move right now would be foolish at his proximity.

“Did you perceive yourself to be out of harm's way?” His rasp quipped. 

You consider him, swallowing a jump in your belly. Unnerved by his misplaced enthusiasm. 

You brace yourself, standing at attention, before lowering yourself into a bent stance. The choppy pieces of your short hair fall into your line of vision as your head dips to the ground, trying not to let his overbearing nature shake you.

He doesn’t seem to move from his place as his gaze flickers over your movements.

Those black teeth. You were strangely fascinated by the ghoulish sight of them.

You’ve heard rumours of it being akin to a status symbol, perhaps even a fashion statement in Harkonnen culture. A custom of extreme wealth, beauty, and high influence.

Aristocratic customs are among this absolute cruel and humiliating gore fest. The irony of that was enough to make you thankful for being low-born and poor, minding your business. For all that you represent, at least you weren’t delusional in your value.

“Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha,” You greet, nodding solemnly, bowing your head from your battle-ready stance. “A pleasure to meet you, my lord.” Perhaps paying your respects to him before the battle would lessen his aggressiveness, if only a little. If you didn’t mindlessly yell and charge at him without thought, like the others.

He cocks his ghostly bald head, black mouth agape, seemingly taking you in. You briefly wondered if he was flashing that blackened mouth at you like some sort of superiority complex.

“How curious,” he murmurs. “The peasant wishes to exchange kind words before I run them through my blade?” His eyes glitter with something primal.

His sick jab makes you scoff inwardly, but you ignore it.

“On the contrary,” you begin. “I’m merely doing the honourable thing. Are we not battlemates, despite where I come from?” I pause, letting the words settle. “Like those of higher status you have fought before?”

I taste the words on my tongue, knowing full well the act may be futile.

Feyd-Rautha’s black teeth open wide with jest. “Mmm, that is what it would seem...” He nods at you. “The honour suits you.” 

You pause, realizing that he was paying a compliment.

His eyes darken like decay at once. “But you are a plaything, peasant. A pathetic thing for me to slice open and drain.” He tuts and slowly strolls towards you. 

You can’t help the shock that appears in your face at his grotesque words.

“But don’t worry, maybe I'll go a little longer with you.” He emphasizes the last word, a dark promise. His voice was laced with subtle mockery.

He’s put some sort of magnetic spell on you as you stand there, dumbfounded. His face no longer looks friendly as he advances on you, a demonic expression gracing his features. 

Fuck.

You jump back, reeling. You’re already failing, and you’ve got to get away, away, away fast. 

You shake your head at yourself for letting more than a few moments of speaking pass between you two. That was indeed useless. If anything, it seemed to make him crazier.

He charges at you with ferocity and a face devoid of emotion. 

This time I will move.

You let your secret instinct envelop you naturally, closing your eyes.

Dodge. Bob. Weave.

Just in time, and he’s snarling. “Rah!”

His black teeth lurch towards you.

You suddenly swirl your body slightly to evade the attack, his Crysknife missing you by mere inches. You jump backwards, not by a lot.

“Run first.. If they are fast enough, begin your dance.”

Your mother's words about the steps of your teachings sneak into your senses. That’s going to come off cowardly to someone like him. Weak. You don’t care. He didn’t know the hidden ways of the ‘lesser’ people of Planet Caladan.

You bolt, legs pumping with renewed investment in your life. The sand seems to give your shoes just the right amount of grip to propel you. You don’t bear to look behind you, afraid of what you may see, but know he’s at least giving chase.

You zip by yet another man, his neck whipping to watch you run. He feels like another stranger among the men who died, like he’s already sealed his fate.

But you presumed. You did not give the man grace. Like you now give yourself.

The man is living now, unchained. In his most honest form.

You crank your head back momentarily as your feet are hitting the sand. You instantly regret it, your breath catching in your throat. Feyd-Rautha is hot on your heels; his snow-white face is terrifying. His nostrils are flared, and his deep blue irises are lit with enthusiastic vigour. Your eyes widened as his blackened mouth was clenched in malice.

There is still a sizeable gap between the two of you. In a sudden move, you see the flash of the man before, in a blur—he’s purposely throwing his body towards Feyd-Rautha—and Feyd is so intently fixated on you he can’t stop the audible grunt that escapes him when your fellow peasant barrels into him with the strength of a bull.

The movement is so out of place that you falter slightly, side-stepping mid-run, your eyes glued to the man who decided to make use of his body as an obstacle. They hit the ground with a hard slam, the sound cracking through the thick atmosphere of the planet.

What is seen before you resembles a dogpile—the man’s large body attempting to restrain Feyd-Rautha’s snarling form, the man’s back gyrating like a hunter holding down a rabid howling elk.

You softly gasp at the mere seconds that went by before Feyd’s blade ground upward deep into the man’s guts—you could hear the sound of insides sloshing, emitting a horrifying, piercing scream from the man. The lack of care was evident as the man was thrown to the side like common trash.

Feyd-Rautha sits up, crimson staining his face like a splatter of paint, his face contorting, mood soured.

You silently thank the man for his sacrifice. It dawned on you that he didn’t do that for himself, but for you. A way to slow down your enemy’s predatory chase. 

Thank you. Your deed today will not go unnoticed, my good man. I shall make a shrine in your honour when I’m through with this animal.

Your eyebrows draw together, and trepidation rings through you as you put a bandage on your reality, cushioning your frantic thoughts with comfort.

You make quick work to paddle your legs from side to side, transfixed on the Na-Baron’s body, using the horrific situation as leverage. You started to do slow, measured side-skips around the man, smart to not use all of your well-preserved energy right away. You couldn’t risk disabling yourself to be slow, but you could be at a good, neutral pace right now.

While he was down. Which wouldn’t be for long.

Feyd-Rautha exhaled hastily as his neck craned towards you. Something akin to a cool, unfazed demeanour washed over his previous frantic behaviour as he allowed himself to engage in a moment's respite. 

“Let’s see you now, you pompous little rodent. Your street-gutter ally was desperate to save you... Caladanians, hm?”

The message was clear now.

You bit your tongue, not lowering yourself enough to respond brashly to his mean-spirited words. Oh, the man was loathsome. But you will engage him. It will allow you to learn more about him.

You already know enough. He’s a deviant, a sadist. What else do you need?

You need to concentrate. You won’t respond brashly, but you will plant seeds of doubt in his mind, if you can.

“Caladan has brought me many things, Harkonnen.” You begin, slightly slowing your skips around the arena as you speak. “It is a vessel of life that your planet seems to be drained of, quite frankly.”

His pupils expand at that.

“Harkonnen?” He stands then, rolling his neck, and you hear a pop as he adjusts his broad torso, his blackened mouth suddenly upturned in amusement as he studies you. “What happened to Na-Baron? Is it not to your taste anymore? Is it because I hurt your heart?” 

He motions towards the crowd of bodies littering the ground. “Did I hurt your gutter tribe?” His rough voice taunts like a menace, as his eyes sparkle with a sort of dark mischief as he laughs at that.

You swallow, biting back enragement.

“You did, Harkonnen.” You agree solemnly. “But what does it matter? Don’t you treat every untrained, unprecedented fighter the same here?” You pause, seeing his deep blue eyes flicker with interest. “Unskilled fodder to fuel your own ego?”

The air was tense, and his calculating eyes seemed to consume you during the silence. He cuts it then, with a breathy, deep cackle.

“Oh, so she has a mouth,” he sneers. He shocks you by darting towards you, his black armoured frame like a thick smog, coming to ingest you. 

He inches closer and closer, and you make the decision to roll out of the way, your body tumbling to the side of him.

“Smart, for street filth. It will be quite a shame when you’re crying under me as I bloody you that you’ll be fodder for my ego.” He mocks chillingly, his cruel words eliciting a spike of nerves within you, but you’re too focused on evading him to let it show. You see him use his Crysknives in short, brutal swifts as you roll quickly.

His Crysknife whips down, but it stabs the ground, Feyd-Rautha not accounting for your multiple movements of barrel-rolling.

He barks a laugh at that, and you hate the sound of it. He pulls out the Crysknife with a rough grunt, and you stumble to your feet.

You’re fast, and you can see that his eyes are trained on you, and he’s smiling. Oh god, that mouth of blackened tar is smiling.

Running away from him again felt more freeing this time, like you were in control. You knew that you could actually keep up with his antics. You were prepared this time around; you two were alone now. Your fellow peasants' bodies are disrespectfully littered at your feet, and it makes you angry.

“Why is she running?” He called, his guttural voice reaching you as you reached the end of the arena. He was talking to you in a strange way, like you were somewhere else, not present in front of him, like a mere object.

You ignored him, and you briefly remember your small blade, strapped under your brown shorts, the strappy harness hidden. You needed to tire him out. That’s your first mission. Tire him out to the point of exhaustion.

Although hesitantly, you knew he was fit and athletic. A powerful, driven force. How exactly you were going to do this remains a sight to be seen.

He growls and chases you like a huntsman, around and around and around. Every time he managed to get in proximity with those two sharp, deadly blades—

Your body moved, just out of reach—like a python. 

You feel pride flow through you when, half-way through another lap around the arena, Feyd-Rautha stops, catching his breath. You’ve managed to get the Harkonnen to audibly pant, and what’s more, he’s crouched over, hands on his knees.

So you decide to waste even more of his energy.

As you begin to run backwards, facing him, you cup your hands around your mouth, sucking in air as you prepare to yell. You call to him, drawing his attention to you.

“Tired, Feyd?” You drop the second half of his name, and it feels more personal.

He huffed, springing up in an instant at the sound of his name spoken so comfortably from your lips.

You couldn't bear to look at his mocking, ghoulish face transfixed on you from several feet away. It sent a deep wave of uncertainty and thrill through your very being.

His ebony mouth gaped at you. “Such gall, from someone who’s been fleeing this entire time. Is that what you came here to do?” 

You swallow hard. Mind reeling.

“I came here to—” you began.

Feyd-Rautha cut you off, an outpouring of snideness laced in his voice. “It matters not. How long do you think this is going to last you, peasant?” 

Your confidence is slightly faltered, but you speak without thought. “It lasted me this long...” and your voice trailed off.

He chuckled darkly. From this proximity, you can see his eyes swirling with a foreign emotion you couldn’t place.

Yes. Your body moved like a python until it didn’t.

He lunged at you, jumping with a prowess that was so quick you barely managed to get out of the way. But you did, feeling his blade slice through your tunic, your abdomen. You let out a hiss, and you’re jumping backwards, regaining your momentum, away from him, and you’re flying mid-air.

But he somehow matches your stride, leaping forward. He snatches the fabric of your shorts, using that to grip you as you are smashed into the battlegrounds by your leg.

The wind is knocked out of you as you land on your stomach, and a sound emits from you that you’ve never heard. Adrenaline flowing through you, you attempt to get up but the heel of his boot digs into your back, pushing you back down, your form collapsing and you sputter, breathing hard - You hear his body drop into the pits behind you, the dust flying into the air in front of you.

Feyd-Rautha pins his entire chest on the small of your back. The weight of the man has your mouth tasting the bitter, dry pallet of the sand. Your face prickles as the sharp grains sting your eyes, crushing your nose and mouth; the pain is excruciating. 

Fuck, if he doesn't get off me, he's going to break my nose.

You let out a feral cry as you tried to move underneath him. His arms hold you deeply into his chest, the plates of his armour digging into the ebbs of your spine.

In defence, you attempt to curl your body into a turtle stance, protecting your front, which is where you are most covered in bruises from your fall. You can feel him all around you, his chest heaving up and down. His breaths are deep and disgruntled; sometimes they don't sound human.

His heavy arms start to slowly pry your arms open from cocooning yourself. He could do anything he wants at this moment if you don’t get him off.

It's no doubt he's much bigger than you, and although you were countering him in speed a while ago, his masculine strength keeps a steady hold on you. 

You start to shake as you flex every bit of muscle you have, your body vibrating in tremors as he continues to pry your arms away from your body. You continue to try holding onto the fabrics of your tunic, still convusling as you fight his hands, trying to pry away your self-made cocoon.

In patience and in your countering movements. You find your strength in your resilience. You remind yourself that you feel powerful in that, at least.

I still have my grit.

"Tough," He jeers, and you’re aware of his chin now digging into the little nook of your left shoulder; you don't even have to look back to know he's grinning from ear to ear. His thick armoured legs tighten around your smaller frame.

In one quick movement, he wrenches your struggling arms, your nails digging into the wartorn fabric that covers your body. You are still holding on, but barely.

Your voice comes out in a passionate screech, ripping from your throat when he shoves your arms behind you so that your elbows are touching, his pale fingers clasped around them.

His muscled, battle-born thighs tighten around your hips.

You thrash against him. "No! NO!" Your scream falls out of you in a high hilt. The pain is searing, like your arms are going to pop out of their sockets. You didn’t want to protest this loudly to him of all people, but he’s forced you to. You’re at his mercy if he manages to dislocate them.

"Yes," he grunts, and you don’t know if he’s responding to you or himself. "Who knew these little arms could hold such force?" The questioning lilt in his rasp went up several levels.

Since your elbows are in his grasp, he has your torso tilted towards the sky of the arena, the black sun baking into your tanned Caladanian skin. 

You hear the deep chanting of the crowd, pulsing through you like a hymn. A smear of colourless shapes moving up and down. All you see is white spreading into your eyelids—your vision is pure, crystal white. Your head lulls back as it rolls back onto his wide shoulder.

And what he utters next is truly alien.

"Let me see those eyes, Caladanian." Feyd-Rautha croaked. It was a gruff, choked sentence, like it slipped out of him by accident.

What?

A weird feeling settles in the pit of your stomach, flip-flopping at his words.

For fuck sakes, the sick fuck is getting turned on by this. Harkonnens..

A silent weight hangs in the air. And for a moment you both don't move.

A flood of emotions wells in you, like an electric charge.

Albeit in pain, you take advantage of the changed atmosphere.

Your knees are trapped, stuck together like a sweaty mass between his thighs. Your head that was stagnantly leaning on Feyd-Rautha's shoulder now aggressively dips down and slams up into his face, head-butting him and taking him slightly off guard.

Feyd makes an animalistic noise, and something changes in his face.

He smashes your skull into the sand, and you desperately claw at the air, gyrating your body like a sandworm. The impact stuns you, and your vision runs fuzzy. Your brain feels like it's splitting. You see green, blue and pink hues. Strong hands are felt touching you, shaking you out of your reverie.

With feverish disgust, you realize that the Na-Baron is kneeling at your back, hovering over your form.

You feel his palm pat. Once. Twice. Thrice. On your mid-back. He rubs your heaving back in a mock-soothing gesture as you gasp inwardly, sucking in the polluted Geidi Prime air like it was your last time breathing, feeling the air barely satisfy you, feeling like you didn't have enough.

"That has to hurt," he purrs. His hand is warm on your back, rubbing. Your eyes widen with horror.

You cough, hacking now. Taking long, deep breaths. If you could just...

He continues rubbing, and you're glued to the ground.

Your chest betrays you and continues to huff and puff audibly, he must hear everything. It’s screechy, your lungs are burning. His hand movements somehow relax you, which may be considerably fucked up. He hums, satisfied, deep in his chest, the sound making you stare at the ground in confusion.

He stills his caring hand on your heaving back and glides it to the base of your neck, plunging your head into the sand, again and again, not giving you any leniency now.

Well, that didn’t last long.

Your head is concussed, sending short, stabbing pains like a tidal wave to your brain.

You flail wildly, kicking back and upwards, your shoes colliding with his body.

He scoops your short locks in one fluid motion, your scalp searing at the sensation. He removes the grip on your hair to fully cradle your face, whipping you around to face him. Your body is limp, nearly falling to the ground, save for your face firmly held in place by Feyd-Rautha.

"Up we go, no sleeping now." he remarks darkly as his gaze settles on you.

Your throat is bone dry, your lips so swollen and puffy from the gushing blood flowing out of your nose. It's definitely broken this time. But you're numbing out now, slowly, and every so often you see those beautiful, vibrant colours again, shimmering despite the bleached atmosphere. It's such a miraculous sight that it makes you smile dumbly... you're finally happy.

A stinging SMACK knocks your face to the side, and you falter in his grip, eyes widening.

Your shock quickly transforms to frustration as hot, angry tears spill from your eyes.

"Fuck you!" And you violently shove your thumbs into his eye sockets, filled with rage. You dig in with all your might.

Your intrusion makes him stumble, and you both messily fall over. Your body falls into his broad chest, the armour knocking against your worn clothes. By now, the rags have slits all along it, from your near misses with Feyd's blade.

You knock him over onto his back so that you're straddling him, your hands sinking into his eye sockets.

His eyes are fucking gleaming now with delight.

"Yes. Take my vision. End me now." He heartily begs, and his mocking face is seemingly drinking you in, in admiration, despite your thumbs digging into eyes. It’s like he can see past them, and you shiver involuntarily.

His hands and Crysknives lay at his sides, in a strange display of submission. You can see the black teeth behind his lips, widened with glee.

His enthusiasm under these circumstances made you pay far too much attention to his face and miss his ulterior motives.

As you’re about to increase the pressure even more, a Crysknife appears in your vision, like a figment of your imagination—before it’s buried to the hilt in your upper thigh.

You cry out, shrieking, throwing your head back in agony.

The sudden onslaught makes you fall backwards in pain. His blade is still buried to the hilt, tendons throbbing. Only the handle is sticking out, like a thorn in your tendons.

Pulling the blade out right now would be a risk to cause further damage to your blood vessels and nerves. This would lead to rapid blood loss. You couldn’t do that right now.

Immediately, you move. You start to drag yourself—by instinct, fight-or-flight, you don’t know. 

You grit your teeth as you manage to find the strength to reach inside your thigh for your hidden blade, letting your hand grasp on the emerald green handle, pretending to cradle your injured thigh.

You keep it there as you continue to drag yourself.

"You've impressed me a great deal," Feyd-Rautha rasps. The unusual deep raspy tone reverberates through your eardrums somewhere above you.

Something inside you quivers at the revelation.

You know it’s best not to believe any of the drivel that spews from his mouth.

Curiously, he’s standing there, the white of his eyes veiny and visibly red from the press of your thumbs a moment ago.

Playing with his now singular Crysknife, tapping his fingers along the stretch of the blade—making no move to attack you. 

Then a thought occurs to you. Feyd-Rautha wanted you to survive. Butchered and bloody, still barely hanging on. He wanted to see you at your emotional breaking point. Writhing and begging for his mercy, begging for your life. The sick fuck derives pleasure from it.

So you say the complete opposite of what he's expecting.

"I want to die," the level of your drawl is barely heard over the crowds chants and shouts booming through the stadium. And you wonder if he can hear you at all.

You drag your aching body towards him, the hidden knife in your hand still clenched thoroughly, stapled to your inner thigh. Your eyes feel raw, chaffed with sand, burning. They flutter as they try to remain open. But you use your eye muscles to slowly turn your face upwards from the ground, eyes searching for his.

"I want you to hurt like I hurt," you carefully fabricate your trembling voice, peering up at him behind your full lashes. Testing him, you spit vehemently on his black boots, emphasizing your point.

The sheen of it glistened in the black and white atmosphere, slightly outlined in a pinkish hue. You're determined to feast your eyes on him, to look as enticing as ever. You use your tongue to push the blood out from inside your mouth, in efforts to trigger his bloodlust. Blood dribbles down your chin onto the murky pits, stained from you.

The world shifts as you take your chance.

His black mouth opens wide in a gleaming smile. His interest is piqued.

"Oh," he coos. His pale hand suddenly darts out to grasp your dribbling face. "What a magnificent sight."

His thumbs trace along your bloodied chin. The fresh blood stains his fingertips, and you couldn't place the emotion that was there. Wide, perplexed eyes settle on you. His mouth was not upturned, but in a hard line. His orbs were staring right through you. 

The seriousness of his mouth with the stimulated look in his eyes unsettled you. "Look at the blood of this fighter." He croons.

You pretend to struggle with rapid head movements to dislodge your head from his grasp. He only holds it there tighter. Now you show off your crimson stained lips, pouting in dismay.

Guard down.

He leans down, looming over you as he studies you. As you initially remembered, his ebony armour suit covered his body in an efficient way, everywhere except his ever-exposed face and neck.

His thumb moves from your chin to your full, battered lips.

You make your eyes as pathetic as possible, pleading. He tilts his head in fascination, and you beg.

“Please..”

You feel his thumb stutter on your bloodied lips at the sound, and his eyes blacken at once.

Bingo.

His enraptured pale face is the closest thing to you, and you don’t waste a minute before plunging the blade into the skin of his cheek, tearing through the flesh.

He roars, and you think the blade nicked his teeth as you hear a click.

There it is again: the change. His smirking, bemused face is wiped clean and replaced with a demonic, empty expression. 

You’re suddenly gathered in his arms, and he slams you against the nearest arena wall. You struggle against him, shouting your protests. His forehead presses to yours—your heartbeat pounds. His magnetic probing eyes are otherworldly as they obliterate the world around you, and it’s claustrophobic. 

You writhe and shake in fear, doing everything in your power to throw him off you. You punch him in the nose with a crunch. You punch him again in the face, sending it reeling. Your other hand chops aggressively at his cheek, downward, your palm bruised by the handle of the blade, wanting it to rupture. But all he does is laugh cruelly at you, his eyes glinting.

He withdraws the blade out of his cheek, tensing as he does it. You hear it hit the ground with a clang. He then grasps the handle jutting out of your thigh, wrenching it out.

Your muscles scream. But your voice doesn’t, in shock. He whips the blade away, throwing it to the side.

His tar-like mouth is drooling saliva and blood, panting into your shell-shocked face. Drool hits your chin as devious gaze envelops you, forehead digging into yours.

Your eyes glaze over and your belly flutters at that, mind completely wiped.

Blood begins to trickle—no, outpour from your wound.

You struggle to hold your balance, barely propping up your form.

He falls to his knees then, using his hands to steady you, snaking his arms down your calf. He stops on your ankle, wrapping his pale fingers around it, his other hand clutching the heel of your shoe.

Your blood runs ice cold. You whimper.

“Hush," he coos. "This is what happens when you volunteer to get slaughtered, rodent." 

He grasps your ankle, and turns it sharply, the movement emitting a sickening snap, the pain is ice hot, the guttural scream ripping through your chest emits such a frequency...

That the crowd goes silent.

"Oh," his bulbous eyes are wide as saucers, his evil coming off in waves as he mockingly consoles you. “Such a delectable sound, so beautiful.”

The colour is drained from your face.

“Not much longer, I swear...”  he moans, about to grab your ankle again.

And now it's your hands that are on his face, clasping his jaw in desperation as you tilt his chin upwards.

"You don't get to fucking do this." You hold his head in your hands as you stumble with your words.

You don't miss the amused expression on his blackened teeth, and, ever so slowly, his hands come to rest on your hands that are cradling his face. His eyes are on fire. Your hands are on fire at his touch.

He tilts his head curiously. "My, my..."

He keeps your grip there. And the eye contact is too much.

He slowly takes your hands down, trying to pin them to your sides, but you aren't going without a fight again. Your worn muscle strains to keep them planted on his jaw, and you’re the one who’s grinning like a maniac now, thumbs digging into the corner of his mouth, stretching that god awful black mouth open.

He chuckles knowingly, his stretched smile guttural, sounding as if Satan himself had spawned. 

"You are special, aren't you?" He pauses to consider your gushing, bloody mess of a face. The deep baritone husk of his voice is sickly sweet. "Even with everything beaten out of you,"

You can't believe how vile and how utterly deranged and twisted this man was to be toying with your anguish and consuming it like a life force. Like it makes him stronger, all the better off to treat your broken soul as a means to an end. 

You tell him this. You tell him exactly now you feel, past the point of caring. You are out-of-body; you are not even attached anymore, shattered beyond repair. 

“Fucking piece of shit," Your voice is hoarse from your screaming, dryer than the desert wastes. You want to see his face as it contorts, need to see him receive your insult as harsh as it was intended. 

His face doesn't seem to register what you said. His pale head merely drops out of your hands to be level with your ankle again as it twitches in his scratchy and cut-up, war-torn palms, your soft skin supple in comparison.

Your ankle is yanked in one swift, fluid motion, and you know he heard you. The pain is making you see starry, glittery speckles as your eyelids flutter close. 

Death is near.

The crowd says it. That's them. That must be them. All of their voices sound like a chorus—a church choir—as you float in and out of consciousness. 

You don't know how long you've been yanked forward; you swear you've been to the end of the arena, doing laps around Feyd-Rautha. 

Running in a diagonal line, weaving through him. Mother would be proud.

But no, something is heavy, rooting you to the ground and sitting on your chest, weighing you down like a cinder block.

The flaps on his black armoured legs are covering your face in the struggle; his knees are pressed into your cheeks as he gathers your arms, both of them against his chest, holding them to him like floppy string beans.

You push against him, “Fucking Harkonnen scum!" Your anger rips out of your throat; your hatred is not reserved anymore; it’s open, bearing witness for the crowd to see.

“You forget yourself,” Feyd-Rautha sneers down at you as he collects your flailing limbs in his palms. “Your beauty is the only thing saving you at this point.” 

His words strike right at your heart, your chest tightening in dread.

Beauty?

But there’s something else there, amongst the terror. Something you don’t want to acknowledge, and in the desecration of your soul, you feel yourself, your whole body, flush. 

You panic at your sickened thoughts, and you dip your head up to see your jello-like arms captured by Feyd-Rautha. Your broken ankle lies horribly twisted. Your anguished, throbbing limbs and fresh wounds are seeping with agony. And your bones—your bones ought to be mush by now. 

Exhaustion has caught up to you. You've ignored it for so long... so long.

Trying to prove yourself.

Your eyes flutter close.

“Closing your eyes isn’t going to make this go away,” the rough, taunting voice of Feyd-Rautha sends a jolt through your body.

You tighten your eyes harder. 

Let me rest. Let me take a rest from you.

“I said-” His voice was malevolent, husky. “I need to see those eyes again.”

Your eyes fly open, just in time to see his blackened mouth now hovering over yours, his proximity making your body go rigid. His chest is weighing you down, his body caging you.

His dark, gleeful expression seems to ruin you as your nose grazes his. Your heart sings. 

No. This is wrong.

“What are you doing?” You don’t believe your own protest as it spills out of you. Your heart is hammering out of your chest.

The palm of his hand slid over your tattered shorts, over the skin of your hip bone. Goosebumps rise at his touch, and he smiles at that, his wet tongue swiping over his black teeth in perverse fascination.

“How utterly brave,” he whispers, his eyes lit aflame as they locked on yours. He drags a finger down your temple, cheek, and finally lets it rest on your jaw, his touch burning like a brand. “A hero amongst them. One that isn’t afraid to be broken. One that welcomes it.”

“Harkonnen-” your protest dies in your throat when you suddenly feel his tongue dart out to lick the blood gathering at the corner of your mouth. 

You freeze. Your eyes widen as he licks it clean. The black pit of his mouth draws closer, and you’re sinking. Your stomach flips upside down. His tongue slithers into your mouth, an overflow of warmth flowing in your belly. You can’t think... You can’t feel. His lips are surprisingly soft as they obliterate you.

He tastes metallic, with a hint of black liquorice. 

Your body shakes like a leaf in his arms—the nerves overflowing. He deeply chuckles, the sound reverberating in your mouth, as his tongue punches yours, darting around and around. Your thoughts are so muddied you sigh and you’re kissing him back with feverish passion. He groans at that.

His hand is splayed over your abdomen, and you feel the cool sensation of his rings. Something snaps inside you. You break the kiss.

No, what am I doing, what am I doing, what the fuck am I-

"Wait-”

His hand trails lower and lower, settling on your pubic bone.

“I-” 

You're stuttering, scarlet red and flushed with humiliation.

“Shhhh..” His shushes are guttural, and a shiver runs up your spine.

Someone has to stop this, right? Th-They'll stop the battle right, once they realize this isn't a battle anymore.

You watch as his arms slide up and underneath your tunic, deep shame swirling in your belly as excitement and thrill courses through your veins from his attention.

They'll stop it, They can stop, I won't be made a fool of- no I won't-

His other hand's rings caress your ribcage, your skin pin-pricking with want. He traces carefully over every rib bone before pressing. Hard.

You yelp as you snap out of your reverie and dig your nails into his wrist, bucking wildly against him in an effort to get him off of you.

Why would they stop it? You're in the arena with a treasured and respected sociopath—their precious Na-Baron.

His hand slides down your shoulder, down the apex of your arm, goosebumps continuing to rise despite your flailing frame.

Your eyes encapsulated your undoing under Feyd-Rautha’s hard stare. He didn’t believe you for a second as he watched you flail about. His sickly eyes were large and expanding at your blatant but silent need.

"N-Na-Baron, you don't need to trouble yourself. I'm a peasant, worthless all around. Surely you wouldn't dishonour yourself...disrespect yourself..." Your ramble came in short gasps.

It sounded pitiful and sad to even your own ears.

Something flashes over his eyes in amusement as he considers you.

“Oh,” his rough voice muses. “But I do respect you, pet.” 

And at that, his ringed fingers cupped you, sliding over your nub.

Your face came alive, then. Like he had never seen. Your eyes swirl, cheeks flushed, pink mouth open—tormented by your enjoyment.

“So lovely,” he encouraged. You shuddered inwardly, your insides like a million shards of glass as his ink-stained teeth smiled down at you.

You’re unable to keep up with his ministrations. A sob wracks through you, the pleasure travelling the whole length of your skeleton down to your toes.

His hot mouth is moving over your collarbone as you struggle to punch him.

He hovers over you, brushing your resisting face with his fingers. He covers your angry fist and snatches it to his chest, holding it steadfast.

"Give in now, you poor thing."

Instantly, your eyes are sucked into his deep blue ones, as he quickens his pace. Flicking back and forth.

You cry out, arching into his chest.

His mouth opens in a mocking, seductive gleam, clearly loving your reactions.

“Can’t-” you think you go to another dimension, a cosmic shift as you try to make sense of what is happening to you.

“Can’t what?” He grovels, low and heavy. His hunger is apparent. His tongue makes a home in your ear, as your eyes roll back into your head.

Faster and faster, he demolishes your entire being, breaking you from the inside out.

You think you go to Caladan for a moment, maybe to Arrakis—your body flying as the pressure builds.

Somehow, in the midst of adrenaline, your battle instinct takes over, and you're able to roll on top of him, bringing his forearm that has disappeared in your trousers with you. 

You sit up straight—on top of him, shakily wrapping your hands around his throat.

A sinister laugh erupts from under you. Feyd-Rautha angles his flicking wrist so that it never leaves you, his free hand seizing the cleft of your hip completely still. Your body sputters in shock.

Your glassy orbs flicker over his angular, pale face like a hawk, stuttering with vulnerability, and he senses it.

He hoarsely speaks below you, his desire thick. “I need it, give it to me, I want it, I need you,”

His words hit you like dynamite as the pleasure amounted within you, tears in your eyes at the intensity of the moment. His bulbous eyes never left you, his black mouth opening at the sight of you in utter devotion. Your hands release from his throat.

Your defeated eyes are engulfed by his as you collapse onto his chest. You felt the throes of submission envelop you - needing, wanting to be under his scrutiny, his gaze. His armoured arms fastened you in his grip, anchoring your shaking form in his arms, holding you close.

His pale head went rest on your shoulder blade for a moment, then pulled you back to leer at you. 

This intimacy with.. him.

It could not be replicated through space and time.

Feyd-Rautha hauls your crumpled form to him, his white hand digging into your hip as he tosses one of your arms around his shoulders. He's doing most of the heavy lifting as you lean against him, depleted and brutalized. He’s walking you towards the stands.

Your face was caked with dirt and blood, swollen. You were numb - to his violence earlier, to his.. attention.   

A bellow is heard above. 

"Exquisite, nephew." The Baron nodded at the both of you, his enormous form like a boulder in the stands. “You lest come across a treat among the gutter like that in your lifetime.”

You turn away, your brow furrowing in disdain.

You feel a harsh slap to your cheek, the bite of it temporarily distracting you from your seething anger, but fuelling it nonetheless. “Look at my uncle when he’s addressing you.”

“Just kill me,” you gritted your teeth as you whisper at him, feeling debased, undignified.

His eye contact was immobilizing.

"Oh now you beg, treasure?" Feyd-Rautha says deeply, in awe. "When you've stopped fighting?"

You barely process the term of endearment as it shuts you up.

Feyd-Rautha holds your upper torso, forcing you to stand against him, squeezing your cheeks together as he inclines your face to his uncle.

Plump lips encase the shell of your ear, his hot saliva sending waves of.. something down your spine.

“You should be proud." Feyd grunted out. "I don't service those in the arena often, but when I do...”

He plays with your ribs, his fingers cold underneath your tatted and holey shirt.

“I make sure they are worthy of it, to add to the display,”

You know exactly what he means by serviced, and you feel mortified of the memory, knowing - The Baron, noble ladies and the noble men all have seen it. They must know that nothing is off limits for a sadist - you could imagine he tortured and serviced men and women alike - you doubt it mattered to him.

It was the Harkonnen Arena, everything for the ease of entertainment. 

Your protest was instant. “Go fuck yours-”

"Shut your mouth, pet, before I send you away to be a slave, the only worth you'll ever live." He threatened. "If you're to behave, you'll be here, training with me, for battle regularly.”

“I don’t blame you, nephew,” The Baron jeered from the stands. “How did you learn to move like that, girl?”

Feyd-Rautha’s mouth was open again—a tunnel of black tar. “Answer him.”

“A peasant never reveals their secret, my lord.” you bluntly say, not caring for the repercussions.

You hear Feyd growl in a warning before the Baron interrupts him, erupting in jolly, sick laughter. “Oh, what fun you’ll have with this one, nephew.”

“Indeed, uncle.” Feyd’s deep blue irises drink you in as he snatches you roughly.

Feyd-Rautha steps around the arena, presenting you to the people like a spectacle. He allows you your respect, holding you with your arms stretched like a splayed out starfish. The flat of his palm is pushing the centre of your spine.

You do feel like you’ve gone through hell as you hear the crowd roar in applause. You do feel like you’ve earned something. But you didn’t. You failed. Tears roll down your face.

Did I mother? Did I do it?

A flash of your mother’s caring eyes envelopes you. She nods, her angelic presence swarming around you.

“You did well, daughter.” A whisper. “I couldn’t have asked for better.”

She cradles your head in your hands, tilting your head to meet her warmth.

You grin, happiness enveloping you, grasping at her shoulders. You want to hold her, but you can’t. “Really, mother?”

“Yes, Caladanian." Her warm smile is pitch black. Her praise is false, a lie.

With a sick feeling, it’s his voice now whispering in your ears again, breaking you from your dreamy experience. 

Feyd-Rautha's chest is pressing into your bruised back as he holds you to him.. Can he.. let you keep speaking with your mother, just for a moment? Would he, if you followed orders, if you made no trouble?

“The honour you deserve, pet..” His thumbs wipe at your tears as they dribble down your sunken cheeks, but his face is devious. “I shall wash and clean you myself, and then you’re going to rest in my arms tonight,” His whispers aren’t of comfort, like hers—his voice is too brazen, too guttural.

His eyes are a bottomless pit as his hand travels to the base of your neck.

“I think you might be my favourite..” He squeezes, briefly cutting off your air supply and you sputter and cough.

You feel faint. A stream of water is forced down your lips, and you drink it, still coughing.

Your vision is hazy, and you decide it’s time to sleep. It’s like he’s rocking you back and forth, the length of your body dragging along the sand, back and forth and back and forth and-

Shushing you, soothing you, like a baby. 

Still hearing the crowd congratulate you, the deafening cries of the Harkonnen people clear in your eardrum, still feeling him grip you -

In your weakened state, a surge of lightning flows through your veins. From the gods, perhaps?

They’ve seen what you did; they’ve seen what you’ve endured.

There’s colour now in this bleak, desolate oasis. You’re the colour.

The black sun seemingly speaks as it encases your entirety. 

You have won, dear one. You have survived.

PART 1 PART 2

[readbyred]

Oh you know it

[readbyred]

Willow goes like yeah, of course 😌

Hunter chokes

Imagine asking your f/o, "would I look good in a wedding dress?"

[talesfromberk]

First flight

Okie dokie *cracks knuckles* lets get into the first one. Warnings: Slight angst but ends with fluff. Word count: 1.2K

It happened within a blink of an eye, your village was being raided. It had been at odds with a rival clan for almost a century, but this has now reached boiling point. The tension had finally snapped and you weren't anywhere near prepared for the assault that you faced, a war in to a magnitude your village could not fight.

Your dad saved you when you had a very close encounter with someone. He prepared for the worst of the worst if a situation like this arises, so he ushered you down to a cave near a port, a secret passage to which you saw a boat in sight. He shushed you when you tried to question him and urged you onto it.

"Go, go and don't look back. Do you understand ?? I will send for you when we are safe..."

"Dad come on..." You tried to get him onto the boat but it was too late, He pushed you out to sea, the boat beginning to sail.

"DAD !!!"

He watched you go, his expression grim and remorseful. "I'm sorry... I love you my child" He whispered as he watched you go, you watched helplessly as he was then surrounded.

Tears rushed down your face as you could only watch as your village... your home... went up in flames, all the memories gone. Your family, your life, everything you knew. Now out here with no supplies, in this rickety old boat, nowhere to go.

But you didn't have time to mourn as a storm was now approaching, the choppy cold water slashed against both sides of the boat, It grew fierce, making it impossible to steer. You did your best to try and sail out of it, but the rope burned your hands when the winds were against you. Soon a massive tidal wave came crashing through, knocking you offboard. The waves stole you from the boat, taking you under and washing you through the frigid frothy water, washing you away in a completely different direction. The waves then made you slam against a rock, hitting you in the back of the head hard knocking you unconcious.

The waves continued to carry you beyond the storm, eventually sloshing your body up along the shoreline, and pushing you into the sand. The sun rising and shining across your features, You frowned and hissed in pain, that was going to leave a bruise. You slowly rose from the sand and saw your ship in tethers, there was no salvaging it, and it didn't look like you were climbing very far. But then you heard a mighty roar from above, you grew scared and grabbed a plank of wood nearby for self-defence, running into the woods to hide. "Dragon..."

But this dragon was anything but. The dragon's name was Toothless, he was a night fury, the last of its kind. The person who was riding him was Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the III, son of chief Stoick the Vast on the Isle of Berk.

The two were out for their normal flying session, enjoying the cool breeze when they spotted wreckage below, so they decided to fly over the island to be sure, Toothless scanned the surrounding area, he started to pick up on a scent, looking back at Hiccup and making a small noise.

Hiccup looked down and nodded. "Take 'er down bud, We'll check on our guest... Maybe they need help ??" If there was anyone. He gently patted Toothless' side and the two then descended onto the sandy beach.

"Whoever was on this must've gotten caught up in something..." He rubbed his chin as he tried to maybe figure out where it came from. Soon toothless then picked up that same scent again, this time it was much stronger, so he rushed into the woods to try and find the source. "Wait up bud !!"

You hid yourself deep into a nearby burrow, ready to defend yourself, you gripped onto the plank tight as you began to hear footsteps, one lighter and one heavier. Toothless then sniffed you out effortlessly, tracking your scent through the woods and right to the burrow. Hiccup slowly looked around and called out. "Hello ??"

You then saw toothless' snout and backed up, holding the plank in front of you. "Get away !!"

Toothless then growled lowly, his pupils sharpening when he saw the plank before Hiccup put his hand in front of him. "Easy... easy bud. We don't want to hurt you" He turned to you "We're here to help"

"You one of them... *clan name* ??"

He frowned softly. "No, Berkian. We saw the ruined ship and figured we'd look for survivors. Toothless here sniffed you out"

You looked over at Toothless who softened his look, but you gripped onto the plank tight, they could see you starting to shake.

"He's friendly... He's friendly..." He reassured you.

You closed your eyes as you took a shaky breath, dropping the plank. Toothless raised his ears, and then relaxed more, shifting his stance.

Hiccup smiled a little. "What's your name ??"

"Y/n..."

"Hiccup, Or Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, But... just Hiccup. Nice to meet you. And this here, is Toothless" He properly introduced you properly.

You slowly moved out of the burrow, Hiccup then saw an injury on your stomach, His eyes widening slightly. "You're injured, I need to get you help"

"I'm fi... Ow..." You felt a sharp sting and held your wound.

"Ok, we're not actually far from my home, you seemed to have washed ashore on the back of the island, Come on I'll help you" He helped you up, the trio beginning the journey.

They made it back to berk, Hiccup making sure you were away from prying eyes before ushering you inside his home, sitting you down. "Thanks..."

He smiled a little "No problem, Let's get this fixed up" He then looked around for first aid supplies and you sat there and watched on. Toothless sat close to you as a form of comfort. You then heard loud thumps before the door opened to reveal the biggest man you have ever seen in your life.

"My boy !! Where have you..." He then saw you.

"Heh... daaaad. Hey, your back"

"Who is this ??" He went over to him, you could hear them whispering as Hiccup began to explain.

"Toothless and I found them stranded on the back of the island... Their injured"

"Where are they from ??"

"I didn't get to that... I was going to ask when I noticed the wound, They mentioned *clan name* though" He shifted slightly.

Stoick remembers that name. "They could be from *Island name* they have been at war for almost a century" He softened his look and then turned to you, walking up carefully so he didn't look intimidating, sitting down next to you, his gaze intense despite trying not to be intimidating, he usually does that without realising.

"Do you remember how you were injured ??" He softly asked you.

"I... was on a boat..." You began to explain. "Sailing away from my island... we were getting raided..." The memories came back as you felt tears wash down your cheeks. "My dad... saved me"

He nodded. "Hiccup did right to bring you here... I'm so sorry... War isn't easy on anyone" He looked at hiccup briefly, to his prosthetic leg, then back to you. You felt a couple of little licks on your hand, Toothless cooed softly, nudging your hand gently.

"How would you like to stay here for a bit. I understand It's not home, but it's the least we can do to help you" Stoick offered. That made you smile softly. "Thank you"

Whatever berk will bring, you would be ready for the challenge.

[izzabela]

Can you write about Syzoth trying to kiss the reader but he's so nervous because he hasn't kissed someone in a long time? ☺️

Kiss the Girl - Syzoth x fem!reader (4+1)

in which Syzoth tries to kiss his dragonfly four times, and the one time he gets it right

a/n: shalalalalala my oh my

ship[s]: syzoth x fem!reader

warning(s): silly lizard boy learning how to kiss again, various moments within the mk1 2023 kanon

You and Syzoth had been dating for a year now, but due to the trauma of the loss of his first family, intimacy was hard for Syzoth. Thank the elder gods you were so patient with him.

And thanks to your patience, Syzoth feels he's ready to make it official with a kiss!

Except... he's a tad bit nervous.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1 - Sunbathing

You and Syzoth lay atop a boulder together, the warmth from the rock and the sun filling your bodies up and relaxing you.

With nothing to do, no chores or training, you and Syzoth wanted some private time together. Why not sunbathe?

As you lay there quietly, occasional sighs and breaths of relaxation heard, Syzoth stares at you longingly and worriedly.

He wants to kiss you, really badly too.

You patience with him was what he needed to build courage to overcome his trauma of love and intimacy, but now that he feels ready, his mind plagues him with thoughts of failure and fear.

What if he misses? What if you don't like it? What if, what if, what if. It was exhausting for him, and the only way to get rid of it right now was him squirming and shifting in his spot.

He's also thinking of Johnny's advice- Just go for it! (no, Johnny, it's not that simple)

You rise a bit, adjusting yourself on your belly and arms crossed over one another as your head rests on your forearms. Syzoth tries to make it look like he wasn't moving, but you chuckle.

"You're not very good at lying, Sy," you mumble with a lazy smile.

Syzoth holds your face with his right arm, thumb rubbing over your cheek as you lean into his touch.

Alright, go for it! Syzoth hypes himself up, lips moving closer to his beloved dragonfly's very own.

You also close your eyes, smiling faintly because the moment has finally arrive for you- Syzoth's kiss with you.

Just as he's about to go for it, a faint buzzing noise is heard around him. To your human ears, it's extremely quiet, but to him it's like a gnat buzzing around his head.

Syzoth's eyes are shifting like lightning, and he's fighting for his life that his primal instincts don't take over.

Sigh, poor Syzoth lost still. The little thing landed on your other cheek, and his inner lizard won as his reflexes took over. His wet tongue slapped over the fly, and you open your eyes in shock.

Syzoth ate the fly quickly, but that doesn't erase the fact he messed up. Thank goodness you were such a good sport about it.

You bursted out laughing, no longer drowsy as you wipe the faintest bit of saliva off your cheek. You slide off the rock in a fit of hysterics, wiping your tears as Syzoth is helplessly trying to wipe your face.

"Oh darling, you kill me," you say after calming down.

You walk away and Syzoth stands there, shoulders down with hunched posture as he conjures up a new plan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2 - Post-Training Clean Up

You, Syzoth, and Raiden were in charge of cleaning up the dummies as part of evening chores before dinner.

The tournament may be over, and the timeline convergence was over, but that didn't mean the danger has passed. All of Liu Kang's champions needed to stay sharp.

"Sharpness also lies in discipline," Liu Kang told you all before ending training for the day. "Those on chore duty are tasked with fulfilling them with diligence and tenacity."

AKA, finish your chores or else.

Chores are usually hell if Johnny or Kung Lao was partnered with you, but thank goodness it was Raiden and Syzoth this time. And speaking of Syzoth, he seemed to be following you around lately.

Perhaps it's because he loves you, or perhaps it has something to do with the rock incident. Most likely the latter, but you didn't press because Syzoth is really trying hard to make you happy.

You were carrying bamboo bo staffs by the dozen, while Syzoth carried dummies. He was in lizard form, so a huge green lizard was just following you while swishing his tail happily.

Every piece of training equipment was to be put back in a huge storage shed in the corner of the courtyard. As you and Syzoth carried your stuff, Raiden came out from the room. His hat was off as he wiped sweat off his forehead.

"Be careful in there," Raiden warns with a smile. "The door is hard to open if it shuts completely. If you close it gently, it will not lock."

Syzoth nods, a huff coming out of his nose. You smile in reciprocation as well, "Thanks for the tip, Raiden!"

You set the bo staffs down and open the door. Syzoth gets in first, and you carry the bo staffs again to put them back inside. The shed was massive inside, and there were spaces to hold everything in its place. To make sure you two weren't locked in, you held the door open with a loose rock at the corner.

As you walked in, you lost grip on one of the staffs you were balancing. It slipped, and it knocked on the rock you used to hold the door open. The door shut, and you two drop everything to try and open it.

"Oh dang it," you curse yourself. "I'm sorry, love. I got us locked in here..." While Syzoth was externally sad, he was jumping in his soul.

Ever since the rock incident, Syzoth has been trying to find out how to kiss you again. He had gotten advice from Raiden this time around, the thunder-wielding lad telling him to seize a moment of vulnerability (with consent, of course).

Syzoth gently puts the dummies away, then grabs the staffs you dropped and puts them back carefully as you continue to bang on the door to signal for help.

Unknown to you, Raiden had already left the courtyard since the staffs and dummies were the last of the items to be put away. So all that ruckus you were causing was futile.

"Ugh, no one can hear us! Damn it!" you curse, kicking your foot into the old, yet oddly strong, door. Syzoth just grabs your shoulder, rubbing them up and down as he pulls you into a hug.

You can't help but relax in them, and you breathe a sigh of comfort and relaxation as you inhale the natural scent of your lover. He smells like the outside, but in a dewy grass type of way. Combined with the lingering scent of maple wood, he smells heavenly.

"Do you feel better?" he asks, tilting your head up to face his eyes. You nod and smile happily, and he kisses your cheek gently. When he pulls away though, his eyes become a little hooded, and his face is closing in on yours.

Ah, again, you think as your eyes close. You wait patiently for his lips to contact yours, to feel the warmth of him on you as he finally gives you a kiss.

However, you both stop and pull away, looking at the door as you see two metal curvatures on each hinge, pulling on the door as the creaking gets progressively louder and louder. Syzoth pulls you behind him, transforming into his lizard form to protect you.

"There you two are!" Kung Lao says excitedly, kicking away the pieces of wood that fell and broke from impact. "We have been looking for you everywhere!"

Johnny's behind him, wiggling his brows as he throws an arm around Kenshi, who stands next to him.

"Seems they were perfectly content in here though," he says suggestively, and Kenshi knocks the back of his head.

Syzoth groans, shifting back into his human form and taking your hand, leading you away from their stares and Johnny's inappropriate whooping and cheering.

So much for the second try...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3 - Private Dinner

You lay on Syzoth's shoulder as you two sat together on a picnic blanket over the grass.

Syzoth asked you out on a date, and by date it was a private dinner away from the canteen hall. With training occupying most of your guys' time, dates with total intimacy were hard to come by.

With exceptional planning though, Syzoth managed to step up and pull this gig off. Now, he has his favorite food in front of him while his favorite dragonfly sits next to him.

What more could a shifter want? Oh yeah, to get his fucking kiss right.

According to human terms, third time is a charm. Syzoth made all of this effort to take you away from the bustle and cacophony of men's antics of the canteen, and now the opportunity of a lifetime sits in front of him.

You take a big bite out of your rice bowl, gnawing on the beef that is so rarely served. You moan at the way it melts in your mouth, savoring the fatty flavor of the meat.

You got some sauce on the side of your lip, and Syzoth lifts his thumb to wipe it off quickly. You look at him with a quirked brow.

"Swuave, darling," you say cooly. Syzoth rolls his eyes playfully, cupping your cheeks as he pulls you closer to him. You carefully put your bowl down, not wanting to waste the food you had.

There's a glimmer of confidence in his eyes as you push his hood back and on the nape of his neck. His eyes relax just a tad, and you can feel the air around you two shift once more.

He's doing it for real this time! You squeal internally, closing your eyes as you can feel the warm breath of Syzoth fan gently over your lips.

Though, Syzoth's eyes still remain partially open. Thank goodness your eyes were closed, because Syzoth did not want you to look at the obvious tweak-out he was having. You were right here, lips puckered out and awaiting his. He did everything right, and yet, he did not push through.

Sighing, Syzoth melts into your shoulder and rests his head there, nuzzling into the little crevice he so perfectly fit in. You open your eyes, and you look down with a gentle smile and an even more genteel look.

"My apologies, dragonfly..." he whimpers. "I just.. I-" You shush him, quieting him with soothing pats on his head.

"There there, dear. It takes time," you assure him, and he nuzzles in deeper (if possible).

Though Syzoth might have been fine momentarily, he realizes that this third time did not work.

Now, he's wondering if luck exists outside the common (human) rule of threes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

4 - Infirmary

You lay on the linen sheets quietly, staring at the ceiling as the wooden fan on the ceiling spun annoyingly slow.

You had gotten injured during this month's mini tournament. No, it wasn't to prepare for another cross-realm kombat tournament, it was just a new ritual Liu Kang implemented.

Just to keep his champions sharp, nothing too high stakes.

If it wasn't high stakes, why the hell was your forehead bandaged and wrapped up like a mummy? Seriously, Kung Lao needs to learn how to chill out.

As you lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling waiting for the hours to drone by, stomping could be heard outside. You could also hear the soft gasps and scurried steps of other people- like they were moving out of the way.

Through the door, Syzoth came through in his reptilian form. His pupils were skinny, dilated in anger as he huffs and finds his beloved. When he makes contact with you, his face softens and relaxes.

In the blink of an eye, he switches into his human form and is on his knees in front of you. You don't wanna laugh, nor smile, but the way he's hold your cheeks and squishing them like a stress ball.

"Oh dear... dragonfly what," he's breathing a bit hard, gently rubbing the bandaged area with his thumb. "Dragonfly, are you alright?"

You nod, kissing his forehead, "I'm alright Sy. It's no big deal, just a scratch." But Syzoth doesn't look convinced.

"You are hurt. You dod not look good, tired," he says softly. You give him a playful smile.

"Maybe a kiss will help," you probe him, and you can see him visibly stiffen. "O-only if you want! No rush..."

Still, Syzoth does his best. He sits on your bed, hands holding your face as he begins with a kiss on your head. Then, he gently kisses the bandaged spot.

A feathery kiss on your nose, gentle taps on your cheeks. The lightest touch over your eyelids. He's pouring love all over you, yet the one spot he hasn't makes him nervous.

You look at him after his parade of love, eyes creased gently as Syzoth's are still closed. He leans in slowly, and you close your eyes again to wait for impact. Except it doesn't come.

Opening your eyes again (what a guy, huh?), you see Syzoth just staring at you. His brows are furrowed and confused, and you can feel his hands shaking as he still holds your face.

"I... uh... I do not believe I have your cure..." Syzoth says sadly, letting go of your face as he prepares to leave the room. You stop him though, gently tugging him back with his wrist.

"I have the cure just enough," you play along. "Perhaps a stronger dosage next time."

Syzoth smiles again, scooting close to you as he takes you in his arms, and you two cuddle and talk quietly about the things that happened during your day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

+1 - Trip to Outworld

Because of Syzoth's double duties to the imperial crown and to Liu Kang, he often travels between the realms to do his jobs. You're not usually free, but for once you had some time.

Syzoth had to return back to Outworld because Empress Mileena had something important for Syzoth to deliver to one of the provinces up north. It had lined up with a planned break you had, and you told Syzoth you had time.

For four days, you explored Outworld- well, the capital. You weren't allowed to travel with him to wherever he was going, but you were promised a tour with protection.

The first day you had Syzoth to yourself as he showed you around the city. From the expensive homes in the upper-sides of the capital, to the busy streets of the main area where the tourist traps and street food are.

When Syzoth was gone for the next two days, the palace guard's leader, Tanya, personally showed you around. Something about the Empress saying 'his friend is our friend'- yeah, along the lines of that.

And now, your last day in Outworld. It was late at night, and you were tossing and turning to find the perfect spot to knock out and sleep. Unfortunately, you came up empty-handed. Even worse, Syzoth woke up.

"Oh, Sy? I'm so sorry, love, I didn't mean to wake you," you apologize and kiss his forehead. He rubs his eyes, shaking his head tiredly as he scoot closer to you.

"'M not..." a yawn, "I'm not tired, dragonfly..." he gets up completely this time, stretching his arms as a few grunts and little stretch noises were made.

"Would you like to walk with me?" he asks, and you grab his hand to stop him from leaving the bed. Syzoth insists, however.

"It will wear you down, tire you more," he convinces, and you get up and throw on an extra shirt over your sleeping dress.

Leaving the hotel room, the streets of Sun Do look like a new world when there isn't a river of people trying to fit in with the flow of getting place to place. When they aren't fighting for your attention with fake wares and dinky souvenirs.

And above you, the stars shone brightly against the blackness of the sky. The perfect backdrop for a midnight stroll.

"Sun Do, the palace, and everywhere else... Outworld is magnificent," you compliment Syzoth's home world.

"It is indeed a beautiful place," Syzoth agrees. "Though, I find home much better when you are present."

You look at him with a playful gasp, "Was that a pick-up line?" Syzoth looks away quickly, humming a tune as you lightly smack his arm. He stares at you blankly first, before smiling and tickling your sides as he chases you down the empty streets.

Finally, he catches you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulls you close.

"Are you feeling sleepier?" Syzoth asks quietly, forehead resting on yours. You yawn a bit, but shake your head softly in defiance.

"Not yet..." he smirks a bit at that. "Not tired yet..."

He cups your cheek, his thumb gently sliding up and down that side of your face, and you feel your body grow a bit sleepier. Syzoth presses a kiss on your forehead before asking again.

"Are you sure?" he asks, and you shake no again. "Then, perhaps this could help."

Gently, yet with passion, Syzoth leans in and kisses you. Normally, your eyes would be open and wide, but they're closed as you pull him in closer. His lips are warm, and his lizard-like tongue is not extended fully so you do not get skeeved or weirded out.

But by the elder gods, was he tender. He was soft, like blowing a dandelion into the wind. Like a gentle breeze during a summer day- you were delicate in his hands, and he was afraid of breaking you.

Letting go, Syzoth is panting as he looks at you with determination and pride. You kiss his cheek, and you cuddle his chest as he rests his head on yours. He strokes your hair, patting your head gently in between to really get you to nod to sleep. He also draws circles on your back, and it practically seals the deal.

"Thank you, Sy," you say quietly, yawning rather widely before you can feel your body get hoisted into the air.

"Thanks to you, dragonfly... all thanks to you."

Finally, after weeks of failure, he got it right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

in the middle of revamping my MLs again, this time including hella links (the parasites)

the last set of requests are more HC than actual fics, once they're over with i'll be writing on my own terms

so no, requests wont be open for a while

thank you all so much btw for getting me to 120+ followers! im surprised this acc actually took me somewhere

hopefully when i start my Cod fics, you all show them the same love too

see yall in the next fic!