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dumpywrites · 8 months ago

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Tears and Poetries - Kim Namjoon / RM

Prompt: “You look familiar, like that one guy from BTS.”

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Fluff, comfort, idol Namjoon, non fan reader

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

a/n: Come back to me got me feeling all inspired soooo yeah :)

It was late. Frankly you did not bother to check the time but you knew it was at least way past twelve. You just needed some air. Late night polluted air might not be the right option, but it was the best you could have at the moment. Getting out was the only coping response your mind could think off. Getting out from where exactly you could not be sure.

Work life had been a real shit-show. You were on your fifth revision for your company project and your manager still would not accept your draft. While life? Life had been pretty exhausting. Recently your mother had been pestering you about wanting you to achieve more, comparing you to her friends’ sons and daughters, while also underestimating your own accomplishment.

And not even two weeks ago, a guy who you were seeing just admitted that he apparently had a girlfriend. He really just dropped that info to you like a bomb, as if you did not spend time with each other the past six months. True, you never really put a label on whatever you both had, but in your head you were single and so was he. Until he told you that he got a girlfriend and had dated her for a month already.

The wound still felt fresh especially with all the external problems added to the equation. Bearing the feeling of unwanted, unimportant, and never enough at once, was hard. Even labeling it as only hard sounded like an understatement.

So you ran. Theoretically speaking you did not run away, you just took off from your apartment randomly to wherever your feet and your worn off sneakers took you. And they took you to a random spot near a river.

You sat down on the dirty grassy ground, not minding how your shorts could get dirty from it. Just sitting down and looking at the night sky, as if the cold breeze would calm you and do anything besides giving you a possibility of catching cold.

Five, fifteen, maybe it was around half an hour you had been sitting there with empty thoughts, just letting the cold air hit your skin, when you suddenly heard a sound of a bicycle stopping and footsteps approaching.

“Hello? Are you alright there?”

The deep voice started you and made you look back in an instant. There was a tall and quite big built guy standing with his bicycle. He had a buzzcut from the very faint image you could see due to the low light.

Although skeptic, you decided to answer. “Yeah, don’t worry.”

“You sure?”

You realized how shaky and stuffy your voice sounded. It probably was not a very convincing “don’t worry”. And when you did not voice another reply, the person parked their vehicle and slowly walked towards your direction.

“Hey! Stranger danger!” You said, backing off from where you were seating.

The guy stopped in his tracks but did not walked away. “Do you mind if I join your pondering session? Who knows two great minds might think alike.”

You stayed still in your position, eyes searching for his in the very confusing lack of light. You could barely make out of what he looked like.

“I’m not a creep, I swear!” He threw his hands in the air. “There’s a police station nearby if you wanna shout as loud as you can, they could hear you from here.”

He took your silence as a green light and stepped closer until he reached a spot on your left. He cleared his throat and sat down next to you.

There you could eventually fully saw his face. The first thing you noticed was the nicely shaped nose, and his plump lips, then his dimples which showed when he politely smiled at you.

The first ten minutes was spent in complete silence. You did not expect the man to whip out a notepad and pencil and just started writing. A story? Poem? Or song? You tried your best not to sneak a look. He was even humming at some point when he wrote, and it was strangely enough, soothing.

“What are you writing?” You finally asked, the suspense was killing you.

“Thought you’d never ask.” He replied with excitement. “I’m writing a poem. Though I’m starting to think it’d sound better as a song.”

“You’re a singer or something?”

The man looked at you in disbelief for a good second before chuckling. “Sorta.”

“Am I suppose to know you?” You eyed him back with the same questioning look.

“Dunno.” He shrugged. “Maybe it’s a good thing that you don’t know for today.”

You looked at the guy suspiciously, which earned a laugh from him. “The more I think about it, I think I’ve seen your face somewhere…”

“Oh yeah?” He said, a light tone of nervousness was visible in his voice.

“You look familiar, like that one guy from BTS.”

He almost choked on nothing. “I’m sorry, what?!”

“Yeah, that one dude from BTS.” You repeated. “Although I don’t think any one from them has a buzzcut… Idols always seem to have either colorful hair or beautiful long locks.”

“Really…” The man voiced out, sounding unsure.

“Are you perhaps an indie artist? K-hiphop? Don’t tell me you are a DPR member that I somehow don’t know about or something…”

“Okay, enough about that it’s not important.” He dismissed. “You wanna take a look of what I’ve written?”

“Uh, sure…”

You leaned a bit closer to him and peeked over his notes. He took his notepad nearing it to your side so you could read better. Despite the low source of illumination, you could read the delicately written words. It was deep and meaningful. Whatever he wrote on that paper seemed a little too real to just be a song, it almost felt like it came from true experience.

“You sound like you went through hell to get to where you are right now.”

You commented, you were not aware of how reading through his words affected you until you could practically hear your heartbeat. You clutched at your chest, trying to calm it down.

“I’m not only talking about the sufferings.” He pointed out. “I also mentioned about the journeys in between.”

His expression brightened as he explained further. You found it really attractive for some reason.

“The feeling of loss, left out, were there alongside the feeling of excitement, growth, and wanting to change for the better.” He grinned. “And I think life needs that small bits of flavor to complete us as human beings… Wouldn’t have loved myself so much without all my struggles and flaws.”

You gazed at the guy in front of you in awe. “Guess you’re right.” You finally broke into a smile. “That was beautiful though, almost got me tearing up.”

“Thank you.” He grinned, showing his dimples. “What about you though? What’s on your mind?”

“It’s kinda lame…” You nervously laughed.

“I’m listening.” He scooted closer, making your knees touched.

“There are a whole list of messed up things happening in my life right now, but I guess I could name one or two…”

You took a deep breath and the guy in front of you patiently waited for you to speak.

“Basically my mom’s been yelling at me saying stuff about how unsuccessful I am for my nine to five job, while getting bullied by my manager at work, and not to mention, how I just got dumped by a guy who I was seeing for six months.”

“That’s fucked up…” He looked at you with wide eyes.

“You tell me.” You replied sassily. “I mean I guess for the most part it wasn’t really about the problem itself. I’m aware of how perfectionist my manager could be and multiple revision is expected. My mom never really feels content with anything, so that’s also expected. And that fucking guy leaving me? It was probably for the better…”

“Hey.” He grabbed your shoulder suddenly, catching you in a surprise. “Don’t downplay your feelings like that. You’re allowed to feel sad when other people treat you like utter shit. It’s valid.”

There was something about his words that triggered an emotion within you. Unknowingly, a tear escaped your eyes, followed by more next.

You leaned backwards to free from his grip, only for him to lose it but proceeded to take off his knitted sweater, revealing a black oversized t-shirt underneath. He took it off with one hand before shoving it through your head so you could wear it.

“It’s chilly. You might catch a cold.”

Hesitantly, you rolled the sweater through your body. You felt the neckline stained with tears and wondered if it was his polite way of helping you wipe your tears. You thanked him and he told you to continue.

“I don’t know what else to say, I don’t want to trauma dump on you.”

“How are you feeling though?” He asked, eyes gently looking at you.

“I just… I felt unwanted? Unimportant and undesirable? It happened all at once and it got me connecting strings. The root cause of my problem felt like it came from me as a person and I felt sick…”

He gazed at you and quietly nod, allowing you to continue.

“I came here because it was loud and deafening in here,” You tapped your head with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. “And I’m glad I did. Not only did I manage to tone it down a couple notches, I also get an exclusive song preview from a top star!”

Both of you laughed in unison. You were the first to break the eye contact due to the sudden invasion of butterflies in your stomach. It might be dark and late at night, but your eyes could not lie about the beauty of the stranger in front of you.

The silence was soon broken by a buzzing notification from his phone. It was on silent mode, but the multiple vibrations got him shuffling his hand on his pocket, fishing his phone out from his cargo pants.

“Damn, I gotta head back. Someone needs me in the studio…”

“At this hour?!” You argued immediately.

“Yeah, unfortunately.” He ran his hand through his short hair in a frustrated way.

“What’s your name?”

You both stopped and looked at each other, dumbfounded. Both of you asked the same question at the same time. Laughter filled the air once again.

“You first.” The guy gestured.

You got up and he followed right after. Now looking at how tall he was compared to you, spelling out your name felt a little bit harder. Your heart was beating in an abnormal rate. You finally managed to tell him your name and you patted yourself internally for not voicing out like a squealing hormonal teenager.

“I’m Namjoon.” He said with a huge contagious smile.

“Now where did I hear that name—“

“Can I have your number?” He interrupted. Glancing at his phone screen, a small groan escaped his lips. “It’s almost three, you have to go home.”

“Oh.” Your lips formed a small O shape. “Sure. Here, give me your phone…”

You both then exchanged phone numbers.

“I want to take you back to your home so badly but I really can’t…” Namjoon sighed. “Besides, my bicycle can only do so much…” He chuckled.

“It’s okay, I live nearby.” You smiled. “You take care, though.”

“Yeah, you too. I’ll text you?”

“Yeah.” You nodded happily. “Thank you, Namjoon.”

“Don’t mention it, I’m really glad we met today.” He nodded at you before retreating to where he parked his bicycle.

“Wait!”

You followed, running to his direction. You stopped when your arms barely linked behind him, hugging him tightly. It was bold of you but it just felt right at the moment.

“Thank you so much, I mean it.” You said with voice muffled a little by his clothes against your mouth.

And you did. You meant it, it felt really nice having someone who actually listened to your problem and seemed like he cared about it too.

He hugged back. “You’re not unwanted, okay? You are loved, please know that.”

You nodded and broke off the hug. A big smile plastered on your lips and he mimicked it. “Okay, you may go now.”

You both bid your goodbyes and that was how you found yourself smiling and giggling at three in the morning, by yourself, on your way back to your place, all while hugging the sweater that you forgot to give back. That encounter was weird, but in a very good way. It almost felt like the universe sent you an angel knowing how down you were feeling. In a peculiar way, it almost felt like he saved you. You went to sleep easily that night.

The next morning you were awaken by a text notification popping up from Namjoon. You smiled like an idiot to yourself before opening it.

“Good morning! I hope you slept well. Did you arrive safe yesterday? Sorry something came up, I wished I could stay longer.”

You quickly replied to him. “I slept good. Probably thanks to you, hehe. No problem though! Maybe we could hangout again someday? I need to return your sweater after all :)”

After typing the text and sending it, suddenly a curious thought filled your head. His name did ring an unknown bell. Namjoon did mention that he was a singer, an idol maybe? You could not be sure. You tapped your Google app on your phone and started typing his name followed by the word “singer” behind it.

Maybe this was your cue to be more aware of the Kpop industry. You had your fair share of listening to K-hiphop, and were even an avid listener of groups like Epik High and Balming Tiger.

So how come you failed to notice that last night you in fact just hugged Kim Namjoon, aka RM from the internationally well known boy group, BTS???

Thank you for reading! 🌙

a/n: this was a rather short one but i hope y'all like it nonetheless <3

Prompt request: HERE

#bts fanfic #bts fic #bts scenarios #namjoon scenarios #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon fic #namjoon x reader #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x you #namjoon imagine #bts rm #bts namjoon #kim namjoon

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thenameswinterfics · 2 months ago

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CAOINEADH

Fandom: The Last Kingdom Pairing: Sihtric Kjartansson x Banshee!Reader Settings: Season 2, brief mention of moments from S3 to SKMD Summary: While wandering outside Dunholm with his mother, Sihtric is visited by a creature whose presence brings terrible news to his family. Years later, the Banshee returns to the mortal lands and Sihtric, now grown up and in the service of Uhtred, faces the consequences of a bad omen. But the tragedy also brings them closer together. Word Count: 5,2 K Warnings: Angst, mention of blood, mention of death, mention of main character death(s), human/monster romance, hopeful ending? , me writing Finan's Irish accent. A/N: After a long time, I'm back to writing for my favourite Dane rat boy. I'd somehow forgotten how much I loved and enjoyed writing for him, especially after a period of putting him aside for a while. This feels like I'm republishing a fic of his for the very first time, so I'm terribly nervous. I hope you like and enjoy it. If you find the ending a bit rushed, I'm sorry. I finished it while it was late at night in my timezone, and everything will be fixed eventually when I'm awake and more aware of my actions. Many thanks to @foxyanon , @legitalicat and @zaldritzosrose for helping me with the Banshee lore, for writing Finan's accent, for the emotional support, for the beta reading and last minute corrections, and to @sylasthegrim for the early beta reading and emotional support as well.

This fic is my entry and first submission to the Fan-Frankentober event, organized by @fandomeventcenter. Here the masterlist to take a look at the other works.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. I APOLOGISE IN ADVANCE FOR MY GRAMMAR AND VOCABULARY MISTAKES.

Header by me (template by @zaldritzosrose) Dividers by me and @zaldritzosrose

READ IT ON AO3 (COMING SOON)

Caoineadh: Irish and Scottish Gaelic pronunciation of "keening" (to cry, to weep); traditional form of the vocal lament for the dead in the Gaelic tradition.

By the time Sihtric stopped running, he had no more memory of the place he was in.

His hands, clenched into small fists, rubbed his tired eyes as he tried to scan the surroundings, looking for any detail that might help him orientate himself in the unknown space. He could not recognize the long tree trunks rising from the ground, their dry branches seeming to touch the twilight sky as he watched the sun's rays filter through the few remaining canopies.

The place was eerily quiet, the sound of the wind blowing and moving the branches and leaves on the ground the only sound to break the surreal yet disturbing atmosphere. He felt a shiver run down his spine and the little Dane suddenly hugged his shoulder, as if to hide his head between them like a turtle.

It was one of the few times he and his mother had left the strong walls of Dunholm together, Sihtric enjoying the fresh air of the forest while Elflaed was busy gathering flowers and herbs that he had little interest in. Sometimes his curiosity would get the better of him, his big, mismatched eyes fixed on Elflaed's wooden basket and how many herbs she had managed to gather. When his mother felt his eyes on her, she would patiently stop picking and crouch down beside him, patiently explaining what she was doing as she wrapped his small body around her, only to see her son wriggle out of her embrace soon after and play with small sticks nearby.

Sihtric was usually a quiet and obedient child: when his mother asked him to stay close to her, he obeyed without a fuss. That day, however, something caught his attention, a heartbreaking wail that filled his ears and shook his heart: it was a gentle but sad song that carried pain and sorrow, hiding a sense of concern and care towards to whom it was addressed. Armed only with a small stick and with curiosity teasing him, Sihtric dared to disobey his mother for the first time, and entered into the woods while leaving his mother behind.

And there he was, lost in an unfamiliar place, with nothing to defend himself but a small stick. He was too young to call himself a warrior, barely able to hold a knife, let alone wield a sword that was too heavy for his tiny hands and a shield properly. Hiding and fleeing was the only option he could take in case of real danger, for he had spent his whole life hiding from the wrath of his cruel father; but the surroundings would make the task impossible, as the tall and twisted trees casted long shadows, and the undergrowth cracked with every step he could take.

Suddenly, the silence of the forest was broken by the same sorrowful chant that dragged him in the deep of the woods. Holding his wooden stick in his hands, Sihtric moved carefully in the direction of the voice, trying not to make noise while the ground cracked beneath his feet.

The walk was short, and he found himself in front of a small lake he had never seen before. Squatting on the bank was a young lady in a blue gown, her black hair cascading down her shoulders like pitch-black watercourses, giving the little boy her back as she continued to sing her lament. Sihtric could hardly understand what she was doing, her head almost hidden beneath her shoulders, her hands working frantically to move the water in small ripples.

Holding his breath and trying to be as quiet as a mouse, Sihtric crept up behind her, lifting his small head and trying to find the right angle where he could see what she was doing underwater. His heart pounded furiously in his chest, fear and anticipation creeping into his bones as he felt the keening close to him, the chanting drawing him in even if he couldn't understand it. But as he crept closer, something beneath his boots cracked softly, and the sound was enough to make the lady turn and show her face to the boy.

It was the first time he met you.

Sihtric watched with frightened eyes as your icy blue gaze locked on his and a low hiss escaped your mouth, your pale complexion adorned by scarlet tears rolling down your eyes. Behind you, piles of clothes lay scattered on the grass, others dripping in the water that had lost its transparency and had become muddy with blood.

The little Dane found the strength to stand up and try to run away, but he soon fell, tripping over a stone behind him. Your ghostly presence, now calmed down after the initial fright, lightly approached him and crouched down. One of your slender hands rested on his cheek, your touch as cold as the death itself. But the words that came out from your lips were way colder, breaking the silence with your voice as soft as the silk but sharp as a piece of glass.

“She cannot escape to the Other World.”

“She?” “Escape from what?” “What is the Other World she is talking about?” These were the words that filled the boy's mind, filled with nothing but fear and the coldness of your touch. But soon Sihtric's tiny body was enveloped in a familiar warmth, and two arms lifted him from the floor. It was only when warm, trembling lips were pressed to his forehead that he recognised the touch of his mother, who had searched for him after losing sight of him.

“Sihtric!” Elflaed cried while holding her son close to her. “Why were you here all alone? I told you never to leave my side, never! Oh, my sweet boy!”

The young Dane watched as he silently pointed to the spot where you appeared before him, but a cold realisation hit him as you were no longer there, gone like ashes in the wind.

Sihtric did not answer, too lost in his mother's warmth and love, and the bad omen you gave him still shook him to the core. He clung to her presence, and each time your words echoed in his mind, he sought comfort in his mother's presence, even when they left the forest and the warmth of her small hut welcomed them.

But a few days later, the opening of the Other World shook nature and its creatures. And his mother's soul was claimed after a long agony.

Standing outside Eoferwic, you looked up at the walls that surrounded the town, admiring the mix of Roman, Danish and Saxon architecture that was unfamiliar to you: you were there when the Romans laid the foundation stone on the ground, and the same souls were the first you guided to the Other World, announcing the sad event in the form of a manifestation to the families you watched over.

And you were called to do your duty again: to find the same boy you met years ago, to tell him that more of his family's souls will be claimed in the days to come. They will not be gentle and innocent like those of his mother and grandparents you guided through the other world: they were violent, reckless, stained with blood’s innocents and sins far from forgotten. But it was up to the god or gods to decide where their souls would go in the afterlife.

Your pale eyes scanned the area, and when you found a small stream where you could wash the dirty clothes you were carrying, you walked over and dipped your hands into the cold water. You watched as your fingers swirled around the cloth and the water lost its translucency, a faint reddish tinge staining it.

The night was still, and a gentle breeze rustled the trees, lightly caressing your raven locks. You continued to scrub the clothes in the water as your wailing began, your lament filling the air and mingling with the sound of the rushing water as your eyes watered and scarlet tears rolled down your white face.

As on that night, something soft cracked on the ground and your wailing stopped. You lifted yourself from the ground and turned towards the sound, and soon found yourself crouched beside a young man, probably trying to sneak up on you without attracting attention.

He was a handsome man, the most beautiful your eternal eyes could ever have seen; his features sharp, his fair skin adorned with a few scars on his forehead, eyebrow and cheekbone, a knotted tattoo crossing part of his head, his dark hair cut at the sides and combed into three plaits and knotted at the back. These were features that were strangely familiar to you, your mind trying to remember when was the last time you saw him.

But it was his eyes that captured you the most. There was pain, melancholy and innocence in them - the same light you had found in the bicoloured eyes of the little Danish boy you had reached outside Dunholm. You felt a sudden flicker of recognition, your eyes widening slightly as you recognised that lost and frightened boy in the man he had become. The years had moulded him into a skilled warrior, but the softness of his eyes remained unchanged, you noted.

You chose a cautious approach, slowly closing the distance between you. You noticed his body trembling and his jaw clenching, his muscles not moving from where he was: it was still unclear to you whether he wasn't moving out of fear or anticipation.

“It has been a long time, sweet boy,” you broke the silence, using the same nickname you had heard his mother call him. Sihtric stood frozen, partly enchanted by your ethereal appearance and your voice, as melodious as the birdsong at sunrise.

His eyebrows furrowed and his expression changed from alienation to curiosity: your figure was too familiar to him, but he could not remember where he had first met you.

“Do… Do I know you, lady?” the Dane asked, holding his breath as the silent nod of your head answered his question.

You took a long pause before answering him, "You do, in a way," you said in a soft voice that carried the weight of your grief. You took a step closer, noticing that the Dane was shifting his incongruous gaze slightly away from you, "But I have known you since you were a little boy playing spy in the deep forest.”

One of your hands reached out and rested on his cheek, the cold touch awakening something in Sihtric that he thought he had buried deep in his heart. He remembered your figure knelt near the lake shore, your icy blue gaze that penetrated deep into his soul, the cryptic prophecy you had given him but he was too young to understand.And then he remembers the mother he lost, and how it was one of the last nights they wandered the Dunholm woods together, and how after her death the Dane desperately tried to find you to explain, but you never showed again.

Instinctively, one of his calloused hands reached for yours, shivering at the cold of your pale skin. But he never pulled you away: instead, he leaned against you, finding the softness of your touch endearing.

“I remember your touch,” he murmured shyly, lowering his gaze as it briefly met yours, fascinated by your pale eyes, “It was you, all this time,” he continued, earning your satisfied hum.

“It is your family that forged our bond,” you announced with a solemn tone, absently doing circles on his skin with your thumb, “It was your mother’s souls that bound you to me.”

The mention of his mother made Sihtric snap back to reality, and pain filled again his mismatched eyes, “My mother’s soul?” he repeated in a whisper, a slight trembling could be heard in his voice, “What did you do to her? Why didn’t you save her?”

His voice broke down when he asked his final question, and the red tears rolled down your cheeks furiously “Why did you take her away from me?”

“It is not me who willingly chose to wrestle your mother from your arms,” you murmured softly, your other hand resting on his other cheek, cupping his face completely. Your thumbs gently wiped away his tears, and you could hear him draw in a sharp breath. Under the moonlight, you could see a faint blush in his cheeks.

“It is fate that foretells a mortal's permanence in this world and how their entry into the Other World will come about,” you explained carefully, as if you were talking with a child. “It is my duty to show myself to you and to guide you through the painful parts of death. Your pain is my own burning.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over you, the weight of your words making it almost impossible for you both to speak. Finally, you summoned the courage to speak again, and your next words sent shivers down his spine.

“The Other World is shaking, more souls from your family should be claimed,” You solemnly stated, and your words brought a sense of uneasiness and confusion in Sihtric.

“Lady,” The Dane lowered his gaze, his cheeks burning at the sight of you, his body trembling at the surreality of the information he was receiving that night, “I have no family left outside my mother and my grandparents,”

You chuckled softly and shook your head, amused at his naivety, "Even if they neglect you, there are still ties of blood that fate will sever."

Sihtric clenched his jaw, his gaze darkening at the memory of a father who neglected you and looked at you with disgust only because he was guilty of being born a bastard, and of his half-brother who always looked at him with the same disgust for their father. The news of their imminent deaths brought him an unexpected sense of peace, and the chains of his tortured past will be broken forever: but he would fear how their deaths would affect him, when the damage they had done was far from repaired, and the memories of his past would knock furiously at his door, reminding him that no matter how hard he worked to forge his own path, he would forever be marked as a slave.

The Dane was about to open his mouth to reply to your words when a loud, rough voice called him out from a distance.

“Sihtric! Come back here, yer little runt!” Finan’s voice brought him back to reality, forcing the Dane to shift his gaze and look at him.

“I am coming, Finan!” Sihtric replied to him as quickly as he could, so that he could face you and ask you about the fate of Kjartan and Sven in death.

But when he turned his eyes again, you were gone. And a sudden emptiness filled his heart and saddened his soul.

Later in the evening, the atmosphere within the walls of Eoferwich was playful and joyful. Warriors gathered around small tables outside, filling their stomachs with food and ale while telling stories of women, successful raids, or simply myths and legends from their homelands.

Sihtric's mind was elsewhere that night. It was common for the warriors who shared a seat at his table to see the young Dane so shy and taciturn, a pattern they justified from his earlier days as a slave in Dunholm, his eyes darting around while his body tensed at the proximity of the too many people in front of him.

But this time it wasn't the echo of his past that tormented him: it was you, your stunning, ghostly presence and melodious voice had bewitched him and altered all his senses. It was as if he was seeing you for the first time, for he had seen you when he was a little boy, unaware that his world was about to collapse upon him and that he would have to rebuild it all by himself. Now that he was a young man and more aware of his own feelings and the world around him, it felt like a string pulling him towards you, longing for your touch and the way you spoke of destiny and its inexorable flow. And the mystery surrounding your figure made you even more desirable in his eyes, and he often wondered if he was facing a goddess herself.

Sihtric's thoughts about your figure were suddenly interrupted by Finan's speeches about his homeland, Ireland, its customs and its most famous legends. One in particular caught the Dane's attention, and he shifted his gaze from his reflection in the mug to the Irishman.

“I told yer tha these creatures ain’t nothin’ but an omen of death!” Finan spoke with such emphasis, looking at Clapa and the few men at the table listening to him. When he felt Sihtric's gaze resting on him, he continued his story. “Legends say they’ll appear in front of yer, sometimes washing bloodied clothes, and they’ll cryin’ and wailin’ somethin’ terrible tha will hit ya family.”

Sihtric listened intently to Finan's words and felt his hand tremble as he gripped his mug of ale. He felt all the dots connect at once, especially when he saw you washing dirty clothes and singing a mournful chant, your wailing so tearful that it filled the listener's heart with sadness. He also remembered facing you twice and seeing the tears of blood leave your eyes.

There were no creatures like you in the Norse legends and beliefs, and Sihtric wondered how a creature from a different faith could become the spirit guardian of his family.

“I found a beautiful lady washing a pile of clothes not so far from here,” The Dane murmured against his will and soon the animated atmosphere died down and he shrugged as he felt all eyes on him. His mismatched eyes found the Irishman's brown ones and with a slight nod he silently ordered him to continue.

“She was singing something,” Sihtric continued, his voice faltering slightly as he could feel the intensities of their gaze on him, “It was a lament, something so heartbreaking that it chills the blood in your veins.”

His gaze rested on Finan while he spoke his last words, “She brushed my skin and was cold at the touch. And then she was looking at me with her pale eyes, crying blood-“

“Cryin’ blood, yer said?” the Irishman asked in an urgent tone, and Sihtric nodded his head. Then he reached for the Dane's shoulder and squeezed, but not too hard: Finan knew what the wrong touch could do to a former slave, especially one as young as Sihtric.

“That woman you claimed to have seen before… Did ya know what a Banshee is?” Finan asked Sihtric, and received a shake of head as an answer. The Irishman sighed quietly, and leaned his face close to the Dane.

“Tha’s the spirit I was talkin’ about before. They’re bound at yer family and they’ll come wailin’ and cryin’ blood while announcin’ the death of yer loved ones. She can be either a gorgeous woman or a vindictive old witch. Tha’s someone ain’t to be trifled with, remember this.”

Sihtric gulped at Finan's description of the Banshee, which was nothing like what you really were. You were so gentle with him, taking care of his pain and not putting the burden of grief on his shoulders. How could such a sweet creature as you be the dangerous spirit that Finan described earlier?

“She treated me with nothing but kindness, Finan,” the Dane replied almost innocently, and the Irishman grinned at his words.

“Then ya were a lucky bastard!” he retorted in an ironic tone, gently slapping Sihtric’s cheek and returning to his seat.

The conversations continued with more stories of the Banshees and Irish legends until Uhtred broke the mood by calling for Sihtric, who obediently rose and reached for his Lord. And after preparing the final strategies of war, everyone fell asleep, thinking of the battle they would face at Dunholm and how you would draw the veil of death over their heads.

After a day of celebration, Sihtric found an opportunity to sneak out of Dunholm fortress through the small door in the east wall used by the servants. He followed the small watercourse that flowed into the forest entrance and, armed with his sword and dagger, he walked into the heart of the forest, his movements light as a feather to avoid any upcoming dangers.

Once again, the prophecy you told him about your family proved true, and on the day of the battle both Kjartan and Sven were killed, their souls taken by you and sent to the afterlife. While the event lifted a great weight from Sihtric's shoulders, free at last to forge his own destiny without the cruel shadow of his father tormenting him, he wondered if you knew the difference between your afterlife and his, and if his father's soul did not rest beside Elflaed's. The image of Kjartan distressing his mother even in the afterlife made his heart skip a few beats: he would rather accept slavery under the cruel Lord of Dunholm than see his mother tormented in heaven, having found the peace she never had in life.

Finding you would be the only way for him to be reassured and to have the answers he wanted. But finding you would also mean surrendering to your cold touch, losing himself in your lifeless eyes that stirred emotions he could not believe he was feeling. Finan had warned him to be wary of spirits like you, but you were nothing more than a comforting presence at his side, a guardian who would watch over him even if he could not feel you.

Fortunately, Sihtric found the little spot where he had found the two of you the first time, remembering the details of the foliage and surrounding vegetation. And there you were, sitting near the shore, gazing out at the shimmering water, your presence quiet and not filled with your lamentations. When you appeared, Sihtric noticed how your pale face was cleared by your scarlet tears and held his breath at how even more beautiful you were without crying, the pale rays of the moon caressing your skin.

"You came," you said with a gentle smile as you stood up and approached him.

"I thought I would find you here, lady," Sihtric replied sheepishly, his cheeks turning red as he saw you closing the distance between us. He swore he had never seen such a beautiful creature as you.

"I realised I never asked what your name was," the Dane continued, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.

“Names are not important for eternal creatures like us,” you explained while you cupped your cheek in your hand, brushing his skin with your slender fingers, “you do not need to know my name to feel close to me. I will always watch over you, Sihtric.”

“I refuse to believe a creature as beautiful as yours is deprived of a name that does her justice,” Sihtric replied, closing his eyes while abandoning himself to your touch, ignoring the lump that was forming in your throat.

You could not remember what your real name was, for you had forgotten it when death took you in its arms. You did not remember your former life as a young woman full of hopes and dreams, and how a violent death, coming from those closest to you, extinguished your light forever.

Ignoring all your thoughts, you shook your head and looked at Sihtric, who covered your hand with his calloused one and pressed his lips to your palm, feeling the coldness of your skin against his. It was a small gesture of affection that set a heart beating that you had forgotten you had, for it beat only with sorrow and grief.

"You claimed the souls of my father and half-brother today," it was Sihtric's turn to break the silence, wrapping his strong arms around your slender waist and pulling you close. Even though you were a ghost, you looked so real in his eyes and he was content to touch you and cradle your form.

"The doors of the Other World have indeed been opened to them," you replied, almost lost in his touch, "but for them there is another path to take, one filled with eternal pain and damnation."

The sight of his body tensing at your words saddened you, so you spoke quickly to reassure him, "Your mother and father have taken different paths in the afterlife. They will never meet again.”

Sihtric felt another burden lifted from his shoulders, and his body suddenly became light: he was glad to see that his dear mother's soul was enveloped in the eternal light of beatification, while his father was probably rotting in the depths of Niflheim, surrounded by cold and darkness, for he died without a weapon in his hands. But even if he had gripped his sword tightly with his last breath, Sihtric did not believe that Odin would open the gates of Valhalla for him.

“Thank you,” the Dane whispered softly, giving you the first sincere smile you’ve ever seen while watching him growing up. His bicolored eyes shone with a renewed life, tasting that freedom he thought he could never have in his life.

But a new realisation hit him hard, and the light in his eyes was replaced by a look of suffering: your duties were done, and you would return to the veil that separates the living from the dead, and watch over him silently but without concealment. He was not ready to say goodbye to you, not after he had found a person who would treat you with kindness and make his heart beat faster, it mattered not if that person was a creature from the afterlife or not.

“Do not go, please,” Sihtric pleaded in a feeble voice, his jaw clenching as well as the grip he had on you, afraid that you might vanish at any moment. He moved your body close to his own, resting his warm forehead on your cold one.

“I have to, Sihtric,” you explained quietly, though you felt your eyes burning and your scarlet tears about to escape. “I am bound to the spirit world, preparing families for their upcoming deaths. You are a young warrior, with life burning inside you.”

You closed your eyes, overwhelmed by the warmth his living body is giving to you, a warmth you used to radiate as well. And when you felt a rivulet of blood escaping from your eyes, Sihtric’s arms were quickly cupping your cheeks, wiping them with his tattooed fingers.

"One day, when the doors of the Other World open again and the veil between our worlds forms its rift, they will give me the call to take you, and only there will you be mine forever," you added, the words slipping easily from your tongue as you lifted your gaze and locked it in his eyes. You have never had anyone look at you with love in their eyes, not even in your previous mortal life. Sihtric was sent to you to show you that a damned spirit like you could be loved and deserve to be loved. But he was the right person at the wrong time.

“Promise you will live and wait for me until your hour will come.”

Sihtric took his time to calm down, closing his eyes and breathing slowly to calm the tears that were about to fall and to suppress the pain inside him. He thought he had found the right person to spend the rest of his life with, to take you as his wife and build a family with you. But he had to face the cold truth that you were not a living being and that you would soon have to leave his side.

The Dane opened his watery eyes again and looked at you with burning desire as he gently lifted your head with his hands. "I promise I will wait for you, my love," he swore, clutching his Thor's hammer with one hand, "and when that day comes and death takes him, I will be ready to go. And there I will be yours forever."

You both raised your faces to each other like a magnet drawing you close, sealing your eternal promise with a kiss that poured out all the love you both had carved out of each other, but that your time had not yet allowed. And when you reluctantly broke the kiss, you slowly turned and walked towards the small lake, your body disappearing into a cloud of mist that slowly dissipated into the air, the sound of a bird flapping its wings in the distance. Sihtric watched your disappearance with pain in his heart and watched over the lake until morning, when he returned to Dunholm to be reunited with Uhtred and the others.

Over the years, Sihtric had kept his promise and lived a true warrior's life, the once shy boy growing into a skilled warrior and confident man. He became one of Uhtred's most trusted allies and closest friends, and together with Finan and Osferth they wandered the borders of Mercia and Wessex, the Danelaw and East Anglia, eventually reclaiming Bebbanburg for Uhtred, who reclaimed his birthright and became its lord.

Feeling that you were always watching over him, you only appeared sporadically to bring him and his band of friends bad news: it was your job to inform him of the impending deaths of Gisela and Thyra while he was at Coccham, to warn him of Father Beocca's death before their first attempt on Bebbanburg fortress, and to claim Osferth's soul at Rumcofa. Uhtred was next, succumbing after a long and arduous battle, followed soon after by Finan, too old to even stand properly on his feet.

You were at his side, emptying his heart of grief as his mouth claimed yours in fleeting kisses before you went back to hide in the veil. You watched Sihtric grow old over the years, loving every single wrinkle on his face and every white hair that appeared over the years, while to him you were always the same young woman he fell in love with when he was a young and inexperienced lad.

And when he grew old and grey, surrounded by nothing but the walls of Dunholm, of which he had become lord, he felt the doors of the Other World open and a bird flap its wings, followed by the sound of a gash. With dying eyes and a tired smile, he watched you keep your own promise and claim his soul as he breathed his last, and feeling his body rejuvenated by the effects of eternal life, he took you by the hand as you reached the gates of the Other World, and with a long, desperate kiss, you sealed your eternal life together, and your souls at last lived and rested in peace.

If you've come this far, thank you so much for reading my fic! Hope you enjoyed it! Please, leave a comment if you want to be added in the taglist or be removed.

Sihtric Kjartansson Taglist: @whitedarkmoonflower @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @foxyanon @legitalicat @zaldritzosrose

@alexagirlie @sylasthegrim @lord-aldhelm @sihtricsafin @arcielee

@volklana @gemini-mama @ladyinred2248

#fan frankentober 2024 #sihtric x reader #sihtric kjartansson x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson x you #sihtric fic #sihtric kjartansson fic #the last kingdom fanfic #the last kingdom fic #tlk fanfic #tlk fic

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forever-ev · 15 days ago

Text

Christmas in NYC With a Baby

Word count: 843

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Peter steps out of the car, his boots softly crunching in the snow and opens your daughter's door. She rubs her eyes and waves to her dad.

"Dada?" She whispers tiredly, slowly waking up.

"Hi, baby, how was your nap?" He asks softly, unbuckling her car seat as you step out of the car. You walk to her side too and watch as he gently lifts her up and helps her put on her coat. He slips her boots back onto her feet and puts her on his side. You walk over to the trunk of the car and pull out her stroller, diaper bag, and a baby carrier.

"Alright, sweetheart, you ready?" He says fondly and she babbles happily. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Do you want the baby carrier or stroller?" You ask him, holding up both.

"Baby carrier for now probably. It's cold, she'll probably want my body heat."

He brushes some of her brunette curls off her face. The baby carrier is handed to him and Charlotte is passed to you so he can get situated. You bounce her on your hip as he straps himself in and you hand her back when he reaches for her. He buckles her in, and you place the diaper bag into the stroller. Charlotte looks up and points her tiny finger at the snow covering the ground.

"Sow." She exclaims and you both chuckle warmly.

"Yeah, Charlie, snow!" You exclaim with her.

Peter begins to walk along the sidewalk with you holding his hand. Charlotte points at some Christmas lights on a building and her face lights up brighter than those artificial lights. Christmas music floats through the air outside and she babbles happily against his chest. You give him a quick kiss as you reach the main event. The large Christmas tree extends high into the sky and glitters against the dark night sky. Charlotte lets out a sound of awe and Peter catches her pacifier before it can fall to the ground.

"Whoa there, Charlie, don't drop your paci!" He slips it into the diaper bag and rubs a hand up her back.

She giggles a little but goes right back to staring in awe at the large tree.

"Tee!" She giggles out.

"Yeah, baby, tree!" You smile at her, "Just like our tree at home."

She continues to babble happily at the tree, and she points at the ice skating rink and looks back at Peter.

"Dada, go?" He chuckles and walks with you to the ice skating area.

"One day we can go there but for now you're too little." He smiles down at her.

She lays her head against his chest again and yawns looking between all the lights and the ginormous tree. He slips her pacifier back into her mouth and looks back over to you.

"Peter! Oh my God, look at the tree!" You looks amazed and a little chuckle escapes you.

"You've seen the tree every year since you moved here!" He protests lightly.

"I know, but like look at that!" You sigh breathily.

"We only got to catch the end of it this year, didn't we? I think next year we'll just watch it on TV."

You nod and hug him, placing a kiss on the top of your baby's head. The tree finishes it's lighting and Peter carefully transitions Charlotte into her stroller and covers her with a blanket. Peter gently takes your hand in his and begins to push Charlotte's stroller along the sidewalk until you reach the shops. You walk into a comic book store and Charlotte briefly opens her eyes to look around at the shelves. Peter walks over to a display while you stay by the entrance looking at the Legos.

"Hey, baby, look at this! A Spiderman Lego set!" You call out.

He lets out a snort and jokes, "Maybe we should get that for our bedroom."

"That actually might be a good idea." You smile at it, slightly shaking your head, "See anything else good?"

"Yeah. Let's get that Spiderman figurine." He grins over at you, "I think Charlotte is getting tired and I don't want to mess with her sleep too much so let's just pay and get to the car. I can already see her falling asleep." He lets out a quiet chuckle and you both walk over to the checkout counter.

"Big Spiderman fans?" The cashier asks lightly while scanning your items.

"Oh yeah, giant Spiderman fan." You remark, then look over at Peter and wink jokingly after paying.

Peter walks with you right to the car and carefully buckles Charlotte into her car seat while you load up your stuff into the trunk. The drive home is almost silent except for the sounds of the soft snoring of your daughter and the faint Christmas music coming from different houses and buildings around. You end up falling asleep fifteen minutes into the car ride and your snores blend with Charlotte's to create the funniest yet most soothing sound Peter's ever heard.

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yours-etc · 25 days ago

Text

12 Days of Steddie-Mas

Day 1:

I’ll Have A Blue Christmas

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The fresh snow crunches under his boots. Flakes fall from the sky, sticking to his hat and shoulders and eyelashes. A cloudy of mist fans out from Steve’s mouth when he gasps as he slips on a patch of ice. He grips the flowers tight in his hand as he regains his balance, the box of cookies he had falls from his grip and onto the ground. Luckily it stayed closed and the cookies mostly intact when he peaked in.

“God damn this fucking snow!” Steve exclaimed, kicking the white fluff in frustration. He loved Indiana, but Jesus Christ, he was so sick of Midwestern winters.

The cemetery is empty besides Steve, the headstones, and whatever ghosts of Christmas were lingering around.

Steve finds his was to the plot he was looking for. He lays out a blanket so he doesn’t have to sit directly on the cold ground. He takes the now dead and frozen old flowers from the small vase and replaces them with the poinsettias he brought.

“Hey Mom,” he breathes out, tracing the words Roasanne Harrington Loving Wife, Mother, Sister, and Friend.

“Sorry it's been a while, you know how I hate the cold,” Steve laughs out the second half, “But you always loved Christmas, so I had to come celebrate.”

There’s no response from the stone, but Steve doesn’t mind the silence.

“This isn’t the first Christmas without you, but it’s definitely the one that hurts the most,” he starts, “because I can almost pretend to be happy. There are moments where I forget you’re gone. And then there will just be a second, usually when I’m lost in thought, or when I’m watching everyone laugh, I just think about how much you’d love them all. I’m sorry you never got to meet them, my new family I guess you could call them. You would love Robin, she reminds me of you. Her love of the holidays, her sense of humor, the way she looks at the world,” Steve sucks in a deep breath trying to stop himself from crying, tears pricking at his eyes, “Oh mom, you would have adored her.” He loses his battle with his emotions. Tears flood from his eyes and sob shudders through his body.

“I’m sorry we never got to patch things up before you left. It- it felt like there— there for a moment, at the end— we were getting close to being able to. I think after the wedding we both realized how much we missed each other. And I want you to know I don’t blame you for sticking by Dad,” Steve didn’t acknowledge the headstone to his left that had his father’s name on it.

“You loved him, and I’m sure, at some point, he was good. It’s hard to let go of things sometimes.” Steve swipes away his tears with the back of his coat sleeve. He didn’t need them freezing on his lashes.

He opened the box of cookies and took a bite of one, “I never can get them to taste the same as how you made them, I’m convinced you purposefully left out an ingredient on the written recipe.”

Steve giggles as he remembered how protective his mother was of her recipes. He quite literally could not get his hands on them till she died. And like hell was he going to let Aunt Katie take them. They were more valuable than anything left to him in the will. After the accident Steve was left with a big empty house and a stack of note card recipes.

He sold the house and laminated the cards.

With the money from the old place, he was able to but his own quaint little home. With three bedrooms and two and a half baths, Steve had finally found a home. It was a fixer upper on the outside of town, but he needed a project to keep his mind busy.

He threw his heart and soul into painting the walls a soft cream color and tearing out the drab carpet to be replaced with ward hardwood floors and redoing the front porch to fit some chairs and a swing.

He had help from Dustin, Robin, and of course Eddie— Steve played with the ring on his finger at the thought of him— but the brunt of the work was done by him.

He wanted to make his dream home. And so he did.

On the day him and Eddie moved out of their shared apartment with Robin, lots of loving tears and hugs were shared and promises of a dinner party as soon as the house was properly set up were made.

The house was a bit empty at first. They only had enough to fill half an apartment, and now they had much more space to grow. Wayne had made them a kitchen table with four chairs as a house warming gift. More tears were shed that day when he dropped it off.

Slowly but surely they filled their home with cozy couches and pillows, music, and photos of their life.

Steve didn’t need to turn around to know the footsteps approaching behind him belonged to his husband.

Eddie leaned down to give him a warm kiss on the cheek. Steve leaned into his warmth, not realizing how cold he had gotten.

“Ready to go?” Eddie asks softly, “We have to pick up little Robbie from Chrissy and Robin’s before heading to Wayne’s for dinner.”

Steve nods and grabs Eddie’s outstretched hand to help him up off the ground.

Eddie gathers up the blanket and shakes it out before bundling up under his arms. He makes a swift dramatic bow to Rosanna’s stone, “Mrs. Rose, looking as gorgeous as ever,” He doesn’t look to the left, but throws up a middle finger to Robert’s grave, “Mr. Harrington, hope hell is awful as always.”

Steve laughs at his ridiculousness before giving his mom’s stone a small kiss. Leaning his forehead against the cold rock he wishers, “You really would have loved little Robin, she reminds me of you more and more everyday. Maybe I’ll bring her next time.”

He stands to his full height and walks over to Eddie lacing their fingers together and give their hands a squeeze. Eddie squeezes back. The two of them walk back to Eddie’s new mini van, which is “totally just as metal as the old one, Stevie.”

The radio plays Christmas music as they drive off to pick up their daughter from her first ever annual Auntie Christmas Eve Eve sleepover. And in the moment Steve feels content and maybe a bit lighter.

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HAPPY DECEMBER 1st!!

Throughout the month I will be posting 12 different Steddie Christmas/Winter themed ficlets!! Just short little things to bring on the Holiday fun. Now I know this one was a bit sad… I promise there will be Happy ones too!! Anyway I hope you all enjoy <3

Day: 1 2 3 4 5 6

#k scribbles on paper #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #k does 12 days of Steddie-Mas!!#this is 1 out of 12 #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfiction #steddie fic

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lovely-showtimes · 1 year ago

Text

out on the balcony . . . ♡

characters - tsukasa, emu, nene, rui.

type - scenario.

contains - gn reader. reader having a nightmare while at a sleepover with wxs and is pretty freaked out by it, but no details of it are specified. reader is stated to be a big fan of jellyfish in rui's so i'm very sorry if you do not like them!

a/n - haven't been having the best of times lately, so i decided to write this. based on a daydream i've been having w/ these 4 ever since i got into project sekai pretty much. enjoy <3

You jolt awake in the middle of the night, your heart pounding in your chest. Your sweaty palms desperately grip your blanket as you try to make sense of where you are and what's real.

That... That was a dream, right? You think, exhaling deeply. I'm... I'm not in there. I'm with my friends now.

Quietly as possible, you roll onto your side to look at the other four. They're all fast asleep, snoring peacefully (some of them louder than others). Somehow, knowing that they're here beside you calms you a little.

But this living room, despite being massive, still felt way too stuffy to you. Making sure to not awaken your friends, you carefully get up and stumble away.

Emu's house was definitely way too large, and even though you've been here a couple times before, you still felt utterly lost. After blankly wandering about for a few moments, you finally manage to find a balcony overlooking the city.

The cool night air hits your face as you step out onto the balcony. It's a little chilly to be out here in only your pajamas, but you don't care about that right now.

Looking up, you can see the stars twinkling high above in the sky. There's something grounding about watching them like this, and you can forget about your nightmare for a while.

You're not sure how long you're out there, it feels like hours and minutes at the same time. Soon enough, however, you hear someone softly call your name from behind. You turn around and...

You're suddenly met with the warmth of a blanket wrapping around your shoulders, immediately causing you to feel warm and snug.

"You're going to catch a cold if you stay out here like this," Tsukasa lightly scolds you. "It's important that you stay healthy! I would hate for you to become sick."

You stare at him blankly for a few moments, shocked to even see him here in the first place (how does he not get lost in Emu's labyrinth of a house??), before realising you should probably say something.

"Um, thanks." You smile awkwardly, holding onto the blanket to make sure it doesn't fall off of you. "Do you just... carry a blanket around with you?"

Tsukasa chuckles lightly and shakes his head. "No, no. When you got up to leave, you accidentally nudged my arm a bit and woke me up. I thought you were just getting a glass of water or something, but you didn't come back for ages so I decided to come find you!"

Tsukasa folds his arms and frowns. "But then I found you out here, and... Listen, if you want some time alone, that's fine! I'll go back to the others! I just didn't want you to be cold, because I could see you shivering..."

You didn't realise you had been that cold in the first place. You barely noticed the cold, you'd been so wrapped up in your own thoughts.

"I'd actually quite like it if you stayed out here with me, if that's okay." You speak softly, gaze averted in embarrassment. It's such a simple request, but for some reason, you feel guilty asking for it.

"Of course that's okay!" Tsukasa declares, placing his hands on his hips with a grin. "I'd be more than happy to stay out here with you for however long you want!"

He strides over and leans on the balcony beside you. You both stand in silence for a few moments, and you wonder if you should say something. Do I tell him about the nightmare? Maybe it's best if I just keep it in...

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, only to notice him staring up at the night sky above. He has a small, content smile on his face as he gazes upwards.

He looks so much calmer than usual. You didn't know he liked stars so much.

Without thinking, you shuffle over and lean your head on his shoulder. Somehow, he feels softer and warmer than the blanket swaddling you.

"Hm?" Tsukasa turns to you in surprise, before he soon relaxes again and wraps his arm around your shoulder, bringing you in close.

A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you relax against him. Being in his presence like this is making you feel so much more at ease than before. Your eyes begin to droop closed as the two of you stand together, your nightmare long forgotten.

"Oh, Emu. Hi."

The short pink-haired girl stands in the entryway, her head tilted to the left ever-so-slightly. She bounces on her feet ever-so-slightly as she rushes to you, skidding to a halt in front of the railing.

"You're awake!" She exclaims, wide eyes studying you carefully. "Aren't you super sleepy right now?"

"Not really." A yawn cuts in between your words, as if to prove you wrong. "I can't sleep."

Emu stays silent for a few moments. You feel like her bright pink eyes are going to stare right into your mind and pluck out your secrets for all to see.

"Okay. I'll wait until you're tired, then." Her forearms come up to rest on the railing, on which she rests her head.

You open your mouth to object, to tell her that it's fine and she should just go back to bed, but you realise you want her company. You turn to face the view once again.

The two of you stay silent for a while. It's not usually like this with Emu - she's always quite talkative. But right now, she's not saying a thing.

She's probably just tired, you reason with yourself. I doubt she's used to being up this late, unlike... some other people I know.

That's when she speaks up again to prove you wrong. You really feel like she's reading your mind or something.

"Do you wanna see something cool?"

You turn your head slightly. "Uh, sure. What is it?"

"Follow me!" Emu beams and takes your hand, leading you off the balcony.

You have to follow her for quite a while. You don't think you'll ever get used to this place, and you have to wonder if Emu ever feels lost in it herself.

Eventually, she starts leading you up some stairs into what appeared to be an attic. Emu hops up some precarious-looking stairs and opens a small window to the roof. She grins, beckoning you over.

"E-Emu, is this safe...?" You question, feeling apprehensive as you cautiously climb the stairs.

She nods enthusiastically. "Don't worry! I've done this plenty of times! You'll be just fine~!"

You don't have a choice except to trust her. You carefully climb the stairs and look through the window, where Emu has climbed through.

You're at a fairly high point of Emu's home, although not quite the highest. You're on a flat roof, with walls surrounding it so that neither of you would accidentally fall off.

"Oh," you murmur, climbing out and standing on the roof beside her.

Emu collapses on a couple pillows and blankets she has positioned on the roof and smiles at you invitingly. "Come sit!"

You take a seat beside her as she lays down and points at the sky. "Look! You can see the stars super well!"

Upon lying down as well, you realise she's right. The stars look even more beautiful from up here, and you love it.

"I wish I knew more stuff about stars," Emu sighs. "One of my friends loves them! I like listening to her talk, but she has such a calming voice that it makes me sleepy..."

You glance at her out of the corner of your eye. "I know a few constellations, if you'd like to learn, maybe?"

Emu's eyes sparkle in joy. "Yes, yes!! I'd love that!!"

You smile softly, before turning your attention to the sky and pointing. "Okay, see those up there? That's Ursa Minor..."

As you start to talk about the different constellations in the sky, Emu's gaze briefly wanders to you, and the content smile on your face.

They don't look so sad anymore, she thinks gleefully as she turns her attention back to the sky.

"Nene? What are you doing awake?"

The green-haired girl hesitates in the doorway, as if she's thinking carefully.

"I could ask you the same thing," she responds. "I just got up to get some water. Why are you out here?"

You feel pretty reluctant to tell her about your nightmare. It sounds embarrassing in your head to tell someone you had a nightmare, as if you were a child. You grow uncomfortable as your gaze drifts to your feet.

"...Can't sleep." Is what comes out of your mouth.

"So, you had a nightmare." Nene cuts in immediately, as if seeing right through you.

You clear your throat in embarrassment and turn away. You didn't expect her to figure it out so quickly. Was it that obvious?

Nene takes a couple steps closer. "Usually whenever I have a nightmare, I like to play some games for a while before I go back to sleep. It helps me get my mind off of it."

You glance back at her, brow furrowed slightly. "Don't you only play those violent shooter games? Wouldn't that just make it worse?"

"N-No," she splutters, cheeks tinged pink, "I-I don't just play those! I play some other things too..."

You can't resist the urge to smile at her embarrassment, which causes her to glare at you and huff.

"Do you want to play a game with me or not?" She demands.

You laugh slightly and nod. "Yes, I'd love to. Thank you, Nene."

She quickly turns around and heads back into the home. She's back soon enough, holding two handheld game consoles - yours and hers - as well as a blanket. She sits down on the ground, before tilting her head up to you.

"C'mon. Sit."

You sit beside her, pulling one end of the blanket around you as Nene takes the other half. You had just realised how cold you were, so you lean against her as you boot up the console.

"So, what do you wanna play?" You ask softly.

Silence. You thought maybe Nene was just thinking about it, but she's just not responding.

"Nene?"

She clears her throat as you prompt her. You catch a glimpse of her red face out of the corner of your eye. "Sorry. Um, I bought this game recently, and I think you told me you liked it...?"

You scan her screen quickly and sit up, beaming. "Oh, that's one of my favorite games!! I'd never thought you'd play it, because it's not really your style. Thank you, Nene!"

She hides her face in her hair as you speak so you don't see how red she's getting. Nene boots up the game as she speaks. "No... No problem, I guess."

You beam and continue resting your head on her shoulder as you open the game as well, eager to play it with your friend.

You come face-to-face with Rui, who's watching you with an odd expression. He's smiling as usual, but you can sense some concern in his gaze.

He walks over and leans on the railing beside you, before tilting his head in curiosity.

"Didn't expect you to still be awake at this hour," he comments casually. "What brings you out here?"

You look away, clutching the railing a little more tightly and bowing your head slightly. "Can't sleep."

"Are you sure? That's all?" Rui further prods, leaning his head on his arms. You feel like his piercing yellow eyes have already seen all your secrets, somehow.

You look away. "...Yeah. That's all."

You know that he knows you're lying, his soft "I see" after you speak tells you that much. You just can't bring yourself to talk about it right now.

You tilt your head down to stare at your hands. You're clinging to the railing so tightly that it's starting to hurt your hands, and you didn't even realise til now. You release your death grip, but continue resting your hands on it.

Suddenly, you hear something... mechanical? It sounds as if something is moving. You glance over to see some kind of contraption balancing on the railing. Instinctively, you put your hand around it, stopping it from falling off the railing just in case that would happen.

"R-Rui?!" You snap your head around to stare in bewilderment at the inventor. "You can't just put these guys on such precarious areas! What if it falls off and gets damaged?"

He only laughs at your fretting. "Its legs can stick to any surface it likes. Don't worry."

As if to prove this, the robot walks around the railing, hanging on underneath for a few moments before walking back up again. It beeps at you proudly.

You reluctantly remove your hands. "...Fine. What does it do, anyway?"

Rui pouts at you in the saddest way he can. "Ah, is walking around and sticking to surfaces not enough...? Don't you love him the way he is?"

The robot lets out a few small, sad beeps. Before you can respond to his antics, Rui's signature smile returns like it never left.

"Anyways, yes. It can create small projections in the air. For example..."

On queue, the circular top of the robot lights up, and a couple butterflies appear in the air, flying around without a care in the world. It was surprisingly realistic, enough that you were almost convinced that there were butterflies in front of you.

"...Woah." You breathe, watching in awe. "You made this?"

Rui nods, smiling warmly as the projections change - this time to a bird flying through the sky.

"You got its movements down so well," you murmur. You carefully reach out to brush your finger against it, but of course, it just goes right through. It is a projection, after all.

It lastly switches to a projection of jellyfish slowly floating through water, which makes you really excited. You love jellyfish, after all! They're just so pretty, and seeing them in front of you like this brings you so much joy. Even if it isn't real.

Rui chuckles at the way your eyes light up. "I had a feeling you'd like that one." He grins and leans his head on his hand as he continues watching you.

"And hey, you're not so down anymore, are you?"

You halt immediately, realising he's completely right. You'd totally forgotten about your nightmare thanks to Rui's little contraption.

"Yeah. Thanks." You offer him a small smile. "If you have them with you, could I see more of your robots?"

Rui's eyes flash with glee at being asked a question like that. "Why yes, of course! I'd be very glad to show you some more!"

He cups his hands and moves closer to you, where you can see a large variety of contraptions, way more than anyone would normally need to take anywhere.

Dumbfounded, you turn your gaze to him. "You seriously took all of these here?"

Rui shrugs, as if it's a normal occurrence for him. "I just enjoy being prepared. Now, look here. First, this one can bring small objects to you if you ask..."

#♡ ~ love letter sent!#project sekai x reader #pjsk x reader #tsukasa tenma x reader #tenma tsukasa x reader #emu otori x reader #otori emu x reader #nene kusanagi x reader #kusanagi nene x reader #rui kamishiro x reader #kamishiro rui x reader #imagines

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tosotd-wwe · 7 months ago

Text

The Alchemy

lando norris x fem!reader

summary: lando wins his first formula one race in miami

song: The Alchemy by Taylor Swift- use of lyrics

warnings: fluff, use of y/n

This happens once every few lifetimes

The last lap of the Miami Grand Prix has arrived. It seems as if everyone was tense, and full with anticipation. Lando had managed to lead the second half of the race, a safety car getting deployed unknowingly helping him stay there. His car was speeding through every sector and corner. Soon enough, he did it. His papaya McLaren, which wasn't hard to spot, passed the finish line in first. Y/n had been sitting in the McLaren garage, watching the whole race unfold. Her eyes filled with happy tears, threatening to spill the second she blinked. Lando's voice rang through the headset everyone in the garage was wearing, his cheers causing everyone to smile brightly.

"Oh, about fucking time!" You could hear the smile in his voice as he commented to his team. "I love you all, I love you all."

Everyone in the garage gathered to hug, celebrating this massive win, and massive milestone for Lando.

"Thank you so much!" He continued to wave to the fans in the crowd. "We did it, Will! We finally did it."

These chemicals hit me like white wine

Lando had continued to thank everyone as he circled back around the track to the grid. He began naming each person giving them a personal thanks. Y/n was still in disbelief, beyond proud of her boyfriend and his first ever win. Slowly, she took the headset off, wiping the tears that had fallen down her cheeks. The adrenaline rushed through her bones as she couldn't wait for Lando to come over by her.

But I'm making a comeback to where I belong...

Lando had exited his car, his hands reaching for the sky as he jumped in excitement. Y/n had followed the Mclaren team down to the grid, awaiting the arrival of their new race winner. As soon as he saw the clan of orange waiting for him, he ripped off his helmet, placing it on the ground before running over to all the people.

Trying to be the greatest in the league, wheres the trophy? He just comes running over to me.

Lando ran and jumped into the arms of the McLaren team. Yells were so loud they could bust an eardrum. Y/n watched in adoration, seeing all of the people who truly cared about Lando showing him just how much they did. After a while Lando's feet were back on the ground. His eyes seemed to roam over every persons face until he spotted hers. Both of their smiles were so wide their cheeks looked like tomatoes. He approached her, arms wide open, embracing her the second there was contact between the two. Lando's embrace was extremely tight as if he wanted to make sure y/n would never let go.

"I'm so proud of you, Lan." She whispered into his ear, a small sob following. Her fingers played with the curls at the nape of his neck, none of them were letting go.

"I can't believe I did it." She could hear the smile as he spoke into her ear

"Its been a long time coming, you deserve it." Y/n pulls away, bringing his lips onto hers. Her first time kissing a race winner.

"Thank you for always being there for me. This win is all because of you." He smiles, pecking her lips one last time.

Y/n watches as the man of her dreams walks off into conversations with a few of his friends. Every person he encountered hugged and congratulated him. It was well known the party after this win was going to be crazy as they are in Miami, Florida.

Eventually, Lando gets called up to go onto the podium. His big smile is as radiant as ever as he pumps his fists into the air. He takes a step onto the podium, standing in the well earned "number one" spot.

The British Anthem played through every speaker after all drivers received their trophies. Y/n had managed to get a front row seat to watch this special moment. Lando's eyes yet again searched the crowd until they locked on y/ns. He sent a wink in her direction, then eyed the trophy on the step of his podium.

As both anthems came to a conclusion, the drivers popped open their champagne bottles, spraying each other relentlessly. Obviously, Lando received majority of the alcohol. His suit was sure to be sticky after this. The champagne managed to also spray along the crowd, y/ns hair becoming slightly damp.

Cause the sign on your heart says its still reserved for me

Just a few hours later, everyone cleaned themselves up preparing to go to a club Lando suggested. Lando had taken a shower before y/n had because he doesn't take as much time to get ready. She spent over an hour preparing for the night in the bathroom. As Lando was spread across the bed, texting someone, y/n opened the bathroom door revealing herself to him. She was in a beautiful, tight blue dress that looked even better on her due to her new tan from the Florida sun. Gold hoops with her Kate Spade purse finishing off the look. Lando's eyes darted from his phone to her body, trailing up and down every inch of her.

"Who has you dressing up all nice?" He stood up, walking to the bathroom door.

"Oh, I don't know." She shrugged in response. "I heard this really gorgeous guy just won his first race and is celebrating tonight."

"I don't think that winner wants to go out anymore," He smirked, his hands grabbing onto her waist.

"Well, it seems like everyone is waiting for him, so he has to go." She looked at text message from her phone, one of her friends had told her to hurry up. Y/n grabbed onto one of Lando's hands, pulling him outside the hotel room. They rushed to the elevator, the second they got to the first floor everyone was looking at them. A few of Lando's friends ran up to him, pulling him away from y/n, but the girls rushed over to her side anyways.

The night had gone on for what felt like centuries. The group of girls y/n was with currently were all a little tipsy, including herself. Her body was shining with sweat after many rounds of shots and dancing. Flipping her hair, she locked eyes with the blue ones she knew all too well. He sent her a wink, taking another sip of his drink. A blush crept onto her cheeks, but a part of her wasn't sure if it was because of him or the alcohol. They had been apart all night, hardly talking to each other. That was the last thing y/n wanted to happen after such an exciting day.

Eventually, everyone began heading back to the hotel. Group by group flooding out of the raging club. Walking down the street all the girls were complaining about the aches their heels gave them. Reaching the destination of the hotel was a relief to everyone. Saying brief goodbyes, and parting ways with one another.

Y/n and Lando's elevator ride was quiet, presumably because they were both exhausted from the long day. However, once the door of their room shut, Lando's arms looped around her waist, pushing her against the wall. Unexpectedly, his lips land on hers, ferociously attacking the soft skin.

"That celebration wasn't enough." He groaned, attaching their lips again as soon as he was done talking. Watching his girlfriend dance from the sidelines was enough to get him worked up for the night.

Her hands roamed his back, noticing every movement he did caused her to feel a new muscle on his back. The two of them were now both hungry for each other. Lando wished this moment came sooner in the day, the thought lingering in his mind ever since he stood tall on that podium.

Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

#formula one #f1 x reader #f1 #lando norris #lando x reader #mclaren f1 #mclaren #miami gp 2024 #the alchemy #taylor swift #formula 1 #lando norris x reader

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certkidwhocantdomath · 10 months ago

Text

Fanart by @863ham

Did I Pass The Test?

Additional tags: Blood and Violence, Bloody Kisses, First kiss(kinda), pre-blind Johnny Cage

Summary: Bi-Han wanted to test Johnny's fighting abilities, so he wrote a fake fan letter luring Johnny to the forest.

Or coldstar's first kiss.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

Bi-Han scaled a tree with ease, positioning himself within its branches, hidden both by the leaves and the cool dark of night. Everyone else at the academy would be asleep by now but Bi-Han waited like an owl for the mouse to show it's face under the moonlight. If they had gotten away and could follow the guiding instructions on the letter right, Johnny should be arriving soon.

Right on cue, Bi-Han detected the unsubtle crashing of foliage and footsteps. A flashlight beam cut through the dark as Johnny's one guiding light. Bi-Han retreated further into the tree, widening his eyes to take in more light as he stared down.

"Shit, this place is creepy," Johnny huffed, ducking under a low-hanging branch.

His flashlight scanned the small clearing, finally landing on the large boulder amidst it. Johnny let out a low whistle, coming up to it for a better look. "Oh, wow. That monk wasn’t kidding. This thing really does look like an elephant’s face. Hah, and it’s gray too."

The flashlight turned around, sweeping in a circle. It wasn’t very powerful but it did provide some decent light to the area. Not that Johnny would be able to hold on to it much longer.

"Um, hello? I’m here…" Johnny called, tilting his head to listen for signs of the imaginary monk who had written the letter.

Johnny didn’t know how long he really wanted to wait out in the creepy woods. It wasn’t exactly the middle of nowhere, given how close it was to the academy. But the way the trees loomed only set Johnny on edge the longer he had to bask in their spindly, reaching branches.

Sure, he was a star but he would like a bit more light than just stars. Though the moon was quite bright itself. It looked full tonight and was quite the sight to behold.

Johnny turned the flashlight up as he too looked to the sky, looking at that big eye in the sky. But when his flashlight caught the treetops in it's beam, he was met with two extra eyes than normal.

Johnny and Bi-Han stared silently for just a moment, Johnny's mouth dropping open, blinking in disbelief, as if he could open his eyes again and the ghost would be gone. Bi-Han, equally dismayed at being caught before he could unleash his surprise attack, stayed with his hands still poised together, about to form an icicle.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Johnny broke the stalemate with a shout, complete disbelief showing on his face where Bi-Han could see past the light shining on him.

Taking that as his cue, Bi-Han finished his motions, a long and sharp dagger of ice forming in his hands and quickly leaving them planting itself violently into the ground just at Johnny’s feet. Johnny jumped back, the light in his hands trembling as he shakily pointed the flashlight at it.

"Holy shit Sub-Zero, you could have killed me!", he was so shocked he couldn’t even muster up a silly nickname. Good, Bi-Han thought, he’s taking this seriously.

"That is the plan," Bi-Han growled, dropping from the tree and landing in a crouch.

He stalked predatory towards Johnny, who continued to back up, holding out the flashlight like it was his only defense. "You fell so easily for my ploy. Did you not ever think to check the authenticity of the letter’s writer before so easily straying from safety?"

"I figured of all fans a monk wouldn’t be one of the crazy’s-" Johnny defended, trying to keep his distance while Bi-Han circled him. "I know how upset you are about 'us', but we can talk this out, right?"

"I grew tired of your talk a long ago," Bi-Han snapped. He stomped his foot into the ground, sending up pillars of ice and breaking off a staff from one. "Now we will fight with real stakes. If you beat me, I will never bother you again."

Johnny clenched his fist. He knew running was not an option here. Setting the flashlight to the ground gingerly to shed some light on the battleground, he dared to ask, "And if you win?"

Both already knew Bi-Han's answer. "I will kill you."

Johnny sucked in a breath, trying to steady himself. He had always imagined that Bi-Han might get angry enough to murk him, but he had never thought it would actually happen! He figured being Earthrealm’s defender and Liu Kang’s little backup squad put some restrictions on the guy.

Although it also wasn’t too hard to imagine they were going a little off the book. Either way, he needed to win, and he had a feeling it was going to be a lot harder than it was at Cage Manson.

Bi-Han reveled in knowing he was going to get to beat the man, his joy only sightly dampened knowing he couldn’t match against them with his real strength. He just wanted to get the man scared enough to think they were going to die, not actually lose their life.

Bi-Han pointed at Johnny with a glare, seeing the man still trying to keep a distance. "Fight!" He demanded.

Bi-Han hurled the staff he had made first, then a compacted ball of ice at Johnny, who swiftly threw himself to the side in a dodge for both. Bi-Han attempted another throw but Johnny had closed the distance with impressive speed.

He shot out his foot for a kick, but Bi-Han ducked, rolling under it and grabbing their thigh still in the air, throwing them down. Johnny rolled on the ground as Bi-Han attempted to stomp on them. Johnny managed to save his own ribs from a crushing blow and slammed his foot into Bi-Hans as they bent over him.

It sent the ice man back a few paces, enough for Johnny to get back on his feet. Bi-Han flew forward, though, striking out with punches. Johnny blocked what he could while sending back his own strikes. Both landed hits, but Johnny felt the most blows, his head lolling back after a particularly strong hit.

Bi-Han dropped to the ground, sliding on a sheet of ice he formed to knock their feet out from under them. Johnny toppled but was quick to use it to his own advantage, angling his knee to land roughly against Bi-Han, knocking up against their chin.

Bi-Han let out a grunt from the damage while Johnny used his position on top of the other to deliver more strikes. Continuing his assault, he pummeled the man until Bi-Han managed to catch his wrists and press his knees against his stomach, pushing up and flipping Johnny over Bi-Han onto his back. His breath was briefly knocked from him as he landed, and he only watched helplessly as Bi-Han appeared over him.

Johnny closed his eyes with a yell, holding an arm over his head in a cowering block. Bi-Han huffed in irritation, gripping their hand with a freezing grasp and tearing it away from Johnny’s face. "That was far too easy. You didn’t even try to push back this time." He slammed his fist into the ground on the side of their head. "Pathetic."

Bi-Han retracted, giving space to the other fighter and moving back into a starting stance. "Again!" He demanded.

Johnny sat up and Bi-Han could tell his face was red from embarrassment. Good. They should be.

The humiliation made Johnny better as they sought to prove themself against the harsh words Bi-Han had delivered. They both fought with conviction, time freezing in the woodsy arena so that all they could focus on was each other.

"Argh-" Bi-Han grunted as a foot connected with his head, swaying to the side in disorientation.

Another hit slammed into his stomach, then Johnny spun, using his elbows to dig into Bi-Han before finishing with a strong back kick that sent Bi-Han to the floor.

Johnny was on him at once, lifting his leg again for another kick but Bi-Han covered a layer of ice over himself, rolling away as the freezing clone remained in his place.

The ice shattered as Johnny kicked the fake Bi-Han's eyebrows, lifting in surprise as the ice shot up from his foot, covering the other in a thin layer that froze them to the spot. Bi-Han barked a short laugh as got to his feet, kicking out himself to slam into the frozen Johnny. The ice shattered and it sent him backwards, the sharp ice causing a few bloody cuts.

They were both bloody by this point, a trickle of crimson running from Bi-Han's nose and in other spots while Johnny's knuckles left their own bloody imprints on Bi-Han, farther tearing the actors skin each time he punched.

The rough terrain of the forest ground didn’t help cushion the blows either. Each time one of them was knocked down, pieces of sticks, roots and pebbles would poke and scrape them. Each had also taken several turns of being slammed up against the large elephant shaped boulder as well.

Both were tiring though, slowing but surely losing their energy. They had been at it for what felt like forever, constantly exchanging blows and, at times, words. Mostly just Bi-Han egging Johnny on, who would occasionally shout back his joy whenever he managed a particularly good blow against Bi-Han.

More than an hour must have passed and Bi-Han had to compliment Johnny on his stamina. But he had a snaking suspicion this would be the last round before Bi-Han forced Johnny to concede.

Bi-Han circled the actor, both huffing from exertion and Johnny weakly put his hands up. "Come at me." He taunted but none of his usual mock was in it, Johnny too focused on getting his breathing under control.

"Do not ask for what you can not handle." Bi-Han retorted.

Johnny and Bi-Han pushed against each other, their arms locked together in a stalemate. Bi-Han grit his teeth, and slid his arm to the side, bringing Johnny's with it to lower his guard and send a jab into his cheek.

Johnny huffed and sent back his own punches. He brought a knee up quickly, slamming into Bi-Han's stomach and following through with a grab at the sides of Bi-Han’s head, bringing Bi-Han's face down into his knee.

Bi-Han stumbled but pinwheeled his arms as a makeshift weapon formed from his ice, splitting over the top of Johnny’s skull. That one hit a bit harder than he intended but it was getting harder and harder for Bi-Han to hold back. It just felt so good to go in a match against the actor.

Johnny bounced back, reared back, and sent an uppercut into Bi-Han, forcing him to retreat briefly.

Bi-Han shook off the disorientation and threw out several balls of ice. Johnny dodged all but the last, stumbling as he turned to quickly from the previous and fell right into the other. It struck him sharply, spreading ice over his arm. Johnny shook and clawed at the iced over arm, trying to free himself and Bi-Han rushed forward, sliding forward on a path of ice. Bi-Han jabbed into their chest with several pointed hits.

Johnny kicked him squarely, sending Bi-Han back a few paces. He looked up and found Johnny had already managed to get closer, kicking him again. Bi-Hans’ stomach contracted from the force, his lungs spamming for a moment. Johnny tried the kick a third time but Bi-Han caught him by the ankle instead, throwing him to the ground with it.

"Don’t be so predictable." he snarled.

"Yeah? Predict this!" Johnny growled back, darting forward.

Bi-Han expected a punch and put up his arms to block. But instead, Johnny dropped down, though not for a kick. Bi-Hanc's eyes widened as he looked down through his guard. Johnny’s legs spread as easily as a ballerina performing a pirouette but without any of the fluttery grace. Dropping into the splits, Johnny punched Bi-Han right in the crotch.

Bi-Han choked, his knees buckling as he dropped to the ground in pain, clutching at the front of his pants.

Johnny looked mighty proud of himself, crossing his arms and chuckling.

An angry red flashed in Bi-Han’s vision and with a violent strike out he threw out ice that froze Johnny's feet to the ground. Bi-Han got to his feet while Johnny struggled to break free from the ice. Johnny only had time to glance up before Bi-Han had a powerful foot against his ribs. Johnny was sent flying and Bi-Han lowered his leg into a normal stance.

He waited for Johnny to get back up.

And he waited.

Johnny remained face down on the ground, body giving slight twitches.

"Fuck…" Bi-Han growled lowly. That kick had been much stronger than he wanted and he feared he might have actually killed the man.

He jogged towards the man and dropped to the ground. Quickly and gingerly, he rolled over the man, turning Johnny onto his back. His eyes were closed but mouth open, clearly breathing. Bi-Han sighed his own breath of relief. He ran a hand over Johnny’s chest, feeling over his ribs.

"Did you break one?" Johnny wheezed, cracking open his eyes.

Bi-Han glanced at Johnny, his stern face relaxing. "No. Your alright."

Bi-Han pushed an arm under Johnny's back, sitting him up, his hand still resting gently on Johnny’s chest. He looked down at the bloody and bruised man, who still managed to smile at Bi-Han, showing off their bloody mouth. Bi-Han’s chest swelled, adrenaline still fueling him as he brought a hand to his face, removing his mask.

He took in a deep breath of the woodsy night air, unburdened by the mask. Gently, he brought a hand up to Johnny's face, tilting it slightly as he leaned down. Bi-Han pressed his lips against Johnny's, gentle at first, before it became more pressing.

Johnny groaned, whining into Bi-Han’s mouth, who pressed deeper. Bi-Hans tongue swiped out briefly, licking up some of the blood that stained Johnnys teeth and lips. Bi-Han breathed out cold air against Johnny, the crystalline breath making Johnny's mouth feel a bit dryer.

"So… your not actually going to kill me. Are you?" Johnny asked, still pulled in close to Bi-Han. His eyes drifted back and forth from the ninja’s eyes to their lips.

Bi-Han shook his head. "It was merely a test." Johnny gave thanks by imitating his own kiss, pressing against Bi-Han with a huffing moan. Whether it was pain or pleasure was anyone’s guess. Probably both.

Johnny managed to smile as he parted their lips. "That’s good. It would have really sucked if you killed me. So… did I pass the test?" Johnny asked, tilting his head back to lean into Bi-Hans’ arm.

"You are not totally useless, Cage." Bi-Han said.

Johnny managed another laugh that turned into a cough, his arm coming up weakly to grab Bi-Hans’ front to steady himself. "That’s also really good, because I think I’m going to pass out."

Bi-Han raised his eyebrows. Perhaps Johnny should go into a carnival sideshow as a psychic because the actor did, in fact, pass out into Bi-Han, his body going slack.

Bi-Han gently lay the actor back down. Retrieving the actor’s flashlight first and tucking it away, he moved into a squat next to the man. He moved his arms under Johnny and dragged him up and slung Johnny over both shoulders.

It was still late in the night. As long as Bi-Han was quick and silent, no one would see him carrying the injured Johnny back into the academy. That would certainly be very hard to explain. Especially since Bi-Han was taking them to his bedroom.

----AUTHOR'S NOTE---

Yup, the coldstar kiss happened after a fight. Next I'mma write about Johnny's revival and training and in Seido(will be separate) and the Johnshi and Coldstar reunion(canonical to my HCs and fictional to my HCs)

#bi han #johnny cage #coldstar #johnhan #first kiss #kinda

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winniethewife · 1 year ago

Text

You're always holding on to stars (Moon Knight system x Famous!F!reader)

Prompt: Stargazing.

Words: 736

They lay out in the field, her head on his chest as they gaze out on the stars in the sky. Marc and His childhood friend, his high School sweetheart, the one who will get away, He knows her asperations are what will separate them. She had just gotten signed to a big record company and was moving to New York. And he wasn’t coming. They had decided it was best to take a break, give her the room to grow in her industry, unattached. Neither of them really wanted to. They we’re both very in love, but Marc Knew she would do amazing things, with or without him.

“I used to think this all was ours” Marc mutters as they looks out on the stars. “You and me against the world. Forever.”

“Me too. I never thought I’d actually get signed. I figured it would be the two of us, open mic nights at the coffee house, normal lives…” She softly says as she cuddles in closer to him. He wraps an arm around her and squeezes her tight

“Don’t feel bad for following your dreams. I’ll always be there to support you.”

“I know, I just…I wish you were coming with me. I’m going to miss you.” She sighs.

“Cheer up butter cup. Its not forever, just until you get your feet on the ground right?” He takes her chin in his hand and looks into her eyes.

“Right…just a break…Not a break up.”

Two years have passed, they have stayed in pretty close contact, and when Marc and Steven started to live a more integrated life she had taken the time to come out to London to get to know him. She stayed with him for a visit. And Steven was absolutely enchanted with her. She was an amazing artist he was enamored from the moment they met. As they walked through Camden Market they were stopped a few times by excited fans. Steven watched and helped take pictures with a smile on his face.

“I’m sorry Steven I know you wanted to just have some time the two of us…” She smiles sheepishly at him.

“No! I’m not bothered at all! It’s nice how sweet you are to your fans! It’s quite…adorable” He chuckles and rubs the back of his neck as he looks at her. He was falling for her hard…he could understand what had Marc hooked to her.

As they days in London pass, She, Marc and Steven start to fall into a pattern, and tabloids start talking…And much too soon she has to leave again. As Steven gets to say his goodbye he holds her in his arms.

“How is it that you're right here…why do I miss you so much?” Steven asks with tears in the corners of his eyes.

“Hey now don’t cry, we decided, I’ll be back, we’re going to make this work this time. I promise.” She reassures him while wiping the tears from his eyes. She smiles at him.

“I feel Like I’m Stargazing. Watchin’ your life from afar. You’re my star…Shining brighter than the rest.” Steven says sweetly as he presses his forehead against hers. She smiles then leans in to kiss him.

As the years pass eventually the fame and hype dies down, and Marc, Steven and her are able to live mostly normal lives, eventually, they also integrate their third alter Jake into their happy family. Jake take a little more time to warm up to her, but as the years pass, wedding anniversaries come and go, Jake is as much in love with her as the others. It was a beautiful evening as they sat on the balcony of their home looking out on the sky as the stars start to show.

“Estrella ... te ves tan hermosa en el crepúsculo…” Jake says to her with his voice low and pressing his body against hers as she leans on the railing. She chuckles and looks over her shoulder at him.

“You’re too cheesy.” She teases.

“What? Sólo digo la verdad, cariño. You know this.” He says in a mock offended tone as he pulls her closer, turning her to face him. “I close my eyes and think about tomorrow and All I see is us…stargazing…” He looks into her eyes, gazing into them he smiles. The stars in the sky will never compare to those in her eyes.

Translations:

Estrella ... te ves tan hermosa en el crepúsculo : Star...you look so beautiful in the twilight

Sólo digo la verdad, cariño.: I only speak the truth my darling.

Bingo Masterlist

Tag: @moonknight-events @juneknight @spacecowboyhotch

#moon knight #marc spector #x reader #jake lockley #steven grant #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockely x reader #moonknightevents #moon boys #moon knight x reader #Spotify #drabble

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blueikeproductions · 2 months ago

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So the Pokémon Giga Leak happened and the thing that stuck out to me was leaked planning documents for HZ and various separate animation projects. I don’t want to discuss the leaks that show the future road map to HZ’s ending though, it’s the preproduction stuff that strikes my fancy.

I’ve been very upfront in not liking HZ, as the plot and characters never felt right for the main line anime. They felt more suited for Twilight Wings type stuff, and apparently I wasn’t far off.

One of the earliest phases was a movie, apparently they’ve been trying to push forward with a “movie universe reboot” post Pokémon Coco in an attempt to bring back lapsed adult fans, but nothing has gotten off the ground. There were rumors prior to this leak of a Liko movie, but nothing ever surfaced, so I’m guessing leakers found scraps of the original movie pitch and went wild.

That it was originally intended as a movie makes more sense, as the continual stretching out its main plot beats across the usual three year anime life span doesn’t work. It’s the same problem Digimon Tri had, unnaturally stretching out and waffling on its Meicoomon plot, annoying and confusing fans until they finally decided to kill her off as was originally intended. (Apparently the writers wound up liking Meicoomon and didn’t WANT to kill her off, creating one of the problems.)

As such the Terapagos plot and the general treasure hunt/Castle in the Sky vibe it has fits a movie plot far better. I’m not super sure if the Six Heroes were involved in this phase, but they’d make the script too bloated if so.

The concept then became the basis of the anime instead, but during development it was intended to continue using Ash as the main protagonist, lining up with previous rumors I’d heard from Japanese fans. These rumors stated Ash was to go to Paldea and meet up with two students, some prototype versions of Liko and Roy. It would appear in this version of the story Ash was intended to remain business as usual but late in development he was cut, intending to start fresh instead.

Taking it at face value, as HZ is functionally a continuation of JN’s globe trotting gimmick, I wonder if Ash would’ve taken a break from battling and just become an Adventurer. The original story map didn’t include battling in the Gym challenges, with the school arc we got being the result of executive meddling, but if they kept using Ash, would they have included the Gym challenge anyway… Also Amethio’s early rivalry with Friede makes far more sense if you put Ash in Friede’s place, which makes me think Amethio was conceived with Ash in mind, and is why he doesn’t really vibe well with Liko and Friede: he was never meant to be THEIR rival.

Also a big complaint is the lack of capturing other Pokemon, and how fans keep insisting everyone needs to get six Pokemon, but the show has stayed consistent so far on only keeping two Pokemon each. So does that mean in Ash’s case he would’ve had Pikachu and a spare? With Friede being Ash’s stand in, it stands to reason Ash might’ve had Charizard too, but with ATBAPM seeing Pidgeot return, I wonder if the original intent was Ash using Pidgeot as his secondary.

I mean it makes sense, long time fans have wanted Pidgeot to return, & the old children’s chapter books in America had two original stories that saw Ash keeping Pidgeot and using it, throwing a bone way back then. In an adventure setting, Ash riding on Pidgeot and using it more extensively to help with Explorer and Team Rocket stuff would be a great way to reestablish it. Also with Ash having obtained Mega Evolution, and Mega Evolution returning once more in the anime anyway for ZA synergy, we could’ve gotten Mega Pidgeot ideally. Ash’s removal is still weird, as lining up with other interviews and comments, it sounds like they intend to bring him back anyway. Some writers have apparently said outside the leak they were considering bringing him back for HZ, confusing the matter further. Adding on to this, despite Ash and other familiar characters not being present, the leaks confirm Liko’s thing not only is still happening in the Ash anime, but it actually happens in-universe immediately after JN. (This leads to a minor technicality, as ATBAPM is treated as its own thing, so does that mean Ash’s Latias story happens alongside it or it hasn’t happened yet?) The notes also mention an idea to include Iris at some point, but she’s older… That doesn’t really make sense with the provided time frame, but a couple year time skip is referenced after the kids capture the Six Heroes, so maybe Iris appears after that? It’s not clarified, nor does it help that Brock appears in the document but doesn’t seem to be included in this guest appearance otherwise.

Anyway Ash’s departure is still strange as it’s the result of the staff having waffled for years on continuing to use him, and they decided to finally put their foot down. Ok that’s fine. Then they decide to not definitively call this the end, avoiding finality like language, leaving it wide open for Ash to come back. So… the staff was wanting to move on for years, finally decided to, but plan to bring him back anyway, negating … all of this.

Then why not just keep him? Ash is the mascot alongside Pikachu and heavily ingrained in pop culture like Optimus Prime. It honestly feels like with this continued waffling, they’ve unintentionally set up Liko to be the Rodimus Prime martyr for if and when Ash returns. Whether any force in the universe can stop Ash remains to be seen. Also that makes it worse for Liko, as if Ash does guest star in HZ, it’ll suck all the oxygen out of Liko as fans will be far more invested in what HE’S doing, negating the whole point of getting people invested in a new character. And they know it!

This feeds into pry HZ’s chief problem: apparently the show’s unusual chaotic story structure is the result of the anime staff studying fandom reactions week to week, with the show being driven by that alone instead of the plot or characters.

-rubs temples-

Ok there’s a reason the Ash formula worked, and after using it for 25+ years you’re pretty much married to it. If you have to constantly guide the new show based on fan feedback only that tells me, coupled with Ash in the back door, that they had zero faith in this new idea, and the continued waffling has led to the show’s subpar production and performance. Even Game Freak staff in leaked notes have expressed dissatisfaction with the new direction, admitting it’s bad and confusing, with the main plot being sluggish. They also pointed out how little stuff like the Titans in SV are being used, if at all. Pokémon is a toyetic anime like it or not, you kinda have to properly advertise and use new Pokemon to get kids and veterans into them more. That’s why several of Ash’s and Team Rocket’s Pokemon are fondly remembered, vs here where the show outright admits in universe they completely forgot about Roy’s Kilowattrel.

This bizarre behind the scenes drama might be why other animated projects that were supposed to be out by now seem to be paused or outright cancelled until either another leak or official announcements say otherwise.

This loops back to the movie problem, where the only Parallel Ash movie that did well was I Choose You, while Coco and Power of Us shunted Ash to a supporting role and the new cast and stories didn’t wow audiences. Neither of these movies are fondly spoken of, or even remembered, with even in post COVID, Coco seems to have been forgotten entirely.

The aforementioned push to capture lapsed ADULT fans lined up with some chatter I’ve heard previously where TPC seems only interested in targeting us, and not kids. Which is utterly ridiculous because kids are still super into Pokemon 20+ years later. I can’t walk by families in stores without seeing some kids wearing Pokemon clothing or buying merch. I over heard one boy sad he couldn’t find any Pokemon Journeys books he was looking for, while a girl was looking for Pokemon books at the library, and the library just threw out its well read Ash themed books.

Like are Japanese kids not invested as much anymore? Is that why they’re targeting adults? I guarantee that’s not gonna work in the long run going by Digimon and Transformers’ own current struggles to remain relevant with children and its own fickle audiences.

That’s where the other adult oriented pitches come in. After HZ was shunted into being an anime, they tried again with a pitch about cyber bulling and suicide, something that sounds more like a Digimon plot for their Adventure sequel films. The concept art sees a girl riding Pidgeot in what looks like a virtual space in an upside down world being chased by Aerodactyl pouring out of a cyber portal. Like replace the characters with Sora, Birdramon and Pteranomon, you have something that works. For DIGIMON.

They tried again with a more grounded plot about a teenage boy investigating a mystery related to (a shockingly violent) Mew, with a sequel tease involving an ominous Mewtwo observing events. This was fleshed out more and seems otherwise completed script wise, but it’s stuck in development hell. Having read it, it reads like the live action Detective Pikachu somewhat, and others who’ve read it have said the same. It also sounds kind of … boring. I don’t know if Ryan Reynolds would help here but it’d be a start.

It seems both films were only intending to use Kanto Pokémon, not helping complaints of Kanto pandering, but despite this, a new Pokémon seems to have been toyed with, as an unidentified dog like Pokemon crops up in the cyber world concept art.

The only other noteworthy thing is a 12 episode “all ages” kids anime intended for Netflix, but other than the Twilight Wings studio attached to it, there’s no character or plot details. It seems to be in an unknown status, which doesn’t bode well.

Until something official comes out about any of these projects, I’m leaning towards them all being cancelled due to creative differences.

So what’s my take away.

Removing Ash was the worst decision they made and I think. like with Hasbro and Good Boi Megatron, they’re slowly realizing they done goofed. Liko, Roy and Dot SHOULD have worked and on paper their story is interesting, but the writers just keep messing up. Maybe just get new writers/director, crack a whip, I don’t really know what to suggest here. The new kids haven’t been treated well at all in both ends and that really sucks.

Talk of letting him return and keeping the anime within the same universe seems to be a fail safe to do so if they need to. Continued fan demand/preference for Ash dominates especially in the US, where children’s books and activity books being published now in 2024, as of typing, are STILL Ash, going back and adapting later Journeys material. Some reports, anecdotal & recent pre Giga Leak, suggest the US heavily influences what Pokémon does, and with America side stepping Liko in merch right now in favor of Ash might guarantee a return. Emphasis on MIGHT, but TPC is fully aware of the demand, and increasing backlash at Liko’s character development, as of the school arc, isn’t endearing her to anyone still.

I think the situation should be as follows, and some past stuff implies it, that despite being in the same universe, HZ shouldn’t use Ash or any of his friends.

At all.

That will further undermine the struggling HZ cast, and it’s far healthier to just let the Rising Volts ride off into the sunset; and going by what I’ve read and heard for their story map, eugh, let LDR have that dignity of riding off.

My current theory, based on the leaks and what we’ve seen before that, is if Ash returns full time, it’ll probably be Gen 10. That’s pry the best way to start clean with him again, and going by internal complaints, I wouldn’t be surprised if the anime stops the Journeys formula and returns full stop to the loose game adaption with any upcoming new gimmicks and Gym matches intact.

All attempts to start over fresh seem to be imploding, so swallow your pride, and just accept the fans and kids want Ash and all that entails back. You tried a new direction but couldn’t commit to it well and now the dirty laundry is out for everyone to see thanks to a phishing scam. If you don’t want to go back to Ash, I’d personally recommend getting the PokeToons team to pick a kid from their shorts like the Nidoran girl, and make a new main line anime based on that. People seem on board with PokeToons, so that’s a start.

But until something is officially announced, I’m leaning towards the next anime being a compromise: Ash, Dot & a new kid that’s technically the new lead but not really.

Because if TPC is aiming at us only now, then veterans have spoken and majority would rather have the immortal 10 year old back over what we’re currently getting. For now let’s let LDR ride off when their time comes peacefully, be it next year or the year after, and go from there.

Despite it all, there’s really no easy answer to this, all we can hope for in the context of the anime, is they figure out something that works, either being the familiar Ash or a new kid with a smoother introduction. We don’t know until they try something.

#blueike productions #blueike #pokemon #pokemon leaks

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melancholia00 · 1 year ago

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I find Olrox to be a interesting character because he always speaks in double meaning which everything can be put into interpretation. For example: first episode; “Don’t listen to her Richter there is always a choice.”

Kinda found it strange why Olrox spoke to Richter first and even at all! Why communicate with the kid if he was solely there to kill Julia? Than it’s followed up years later where Richter pulls the same question on Olrox too. Perhaps he gave Julia a choice between sparing his lover’s life or he’ll hunt her down and kill her. Or if he hurt her son which is unlikely because I don’t see Olrox hurting kids.

Another example with Olrox seeking Mizrak out in the courtyard when he straddles Mizrak and playfully says: “let’s do this again, somewhere more comfortable”

That did itch my brain a little and I assume it was just queer baiting or a funny innuendo for the fan service or that Olrox wishes to discuss some where comfortable that is environmentally friendly because he is a vampire and they were out in the sun. Next scene they were in bed and oh— OH! congratulations on the show writers for not pulling back any punches! In the inn scene it’s far more insightful when Olrox drops in that “there are demons that were gods and some that still are” which Mizrak throws a hissy fit that there is ONE God. He doesn’t humor Olrox on that any further and stalks off. Olrox walks into the window watching him leaving while standing around direct sunlight and scoffs at Mizrak’s “one god” as if there is only ONE and that his only one god can protect him. Which brings to mind that Olrox being the avatar of Quetzalcoatl is far stronger and completely on the nose. As if saying Mizrak’s only one god will not protect him and it’s Olrox that protected Mizrak in the big fight in the end.

In the alley Drolta finds Olrox eating his Happy Meal and asks if he likes “striking terror in the hearts of children.” Which Olrox assumes the scrappy boy that ran off and he prefers to eat zesty blue bloods from the nobles. Drolta clarifies she meant Richter which he responds to “oh, him.” Richter was not in his mind at all. Richter didn’t have make much of an impact compared to how Olrox had on Richter. He calls Richter “SON of an old foe.” He doesn’t see Richter as a foe or enemy. He sort of smiles and is blasé about it. Julia was his enemy who killed his lover and his revenge died with her. Richter was simply collateral damage and not his enemy. So he doesn’t have any ill will towards Richter.

Another with Drolta and Olrox having a mid night stroll in the cemetary when she talks about creating a new world. Those can be two different things. One of them can be and OBVIOUSLY the fall of the Aztec empire where conquistadors wanted to convert the Aztec empire to Christianity and Catholic. Reading back in history the Aztec Empire became New Spain and the rest of South America like Colombia, Ecuador, and Venezuela were combined into a really powerful empire from New Spain or Viceroyalty of New Spain to The New Grenada and later The Grand Colombia. But that’s like years later.

His interactions with her are my favorite when he looks up at the sky and knows when the sun is coming up. Nor does he clarify when Drolta says vampires feel it because it’s dread. Olrox looks unbothered and asks her if she should be inside and concerned for her safety. Olrox si like Alucard and can be in the sun because of being the avatar of Quetzalcoatl. She asks flirtatiously where Olrox is staying while Olrox answers reciprocates the flirtation and says he likes “to keep his ear on the ground.” As if answering he likes to be a fly on the wall and to go unnoticed while watching everyone else tear down each other’s throats.

The most obvious part we see Olrox a little distress and and looking a bit vulnerable when he’s in the presence of Erzsebet. Olrox tends to butter people up with his interactions with playful banter but he doesn’t even hide his disgust on Erzsebet and doesn’t even let Drolta finish her introduction. His eye twitches whenever Erzsebet he refers to “dragon.”

Olrox is not a dragon but a serpent and dragons are a European creatures so referring Olrox a dragon is not only offensive but erasing his heritage and culture and who he is. Olrox is the avatar of Quetzalcoatl AKA the Feathered Serpent and it’s literally on the nose. Olrox gave a teeny tiny half ass bow when Drolta told him to and gave a full bow when Erzsebet showed off her glowy ball. The sheer disgust on his face not only tells me he had done this before. A lot of times from many conquerers he had to swallow his pride and bow. Anger, humiliation and that scathing look tells it all. He was forced to help these conquistadors to colonize his empire and slaughter his people and he’s reliving it again.

Another can of worms where Olrox pulls a Zuko officially joining on their side to take down Erzsebet. He has an ulterior motive and doesn’t want the world to be in eternal darkness. Olrox isn’t here to fight Richter at all and has nothing against him so their animosity is one sided. Olrox keeps a safe distance but not for himself but also Richter so he won’t get spooked. There is no audience to show off his influence like he had in cellar he was basically flirting or fucking with him. Calling Richter “Little Boy Belmont,” to unnerve him establish dominance and control of the situation so this fight won’t continue any further and mostly to protect Mizrak because Richter and Mizrak were about to brawl. Olrox was putting on a big show to showcase his powers and influence for the Abbot and Drolta to witness. Olrox has a reputation all the way across the ocean so he wanted to make a good impression and all he had to do was stand there and he made Richter Scooby Doo Run out of the cellar. The fight was neutralized and went on his merry way.

Olrox isn’t here to hurt Richter both physically or psychologically like that stunt in the cellar. It’s just them now in the woods. When Olrox says “I could’ve killed you three times by now, ironic I think for the both of us I need a Belmont.” I think there is more history between them that we did not see. Maybe it was with his mother and Olrox and Julia were friends or allies way back when. Olrox treated her with respect and calling her by her full name before the fight and was only here to kill Julia. He says he needs a Belmont but WHICH Belmont? It could be any Belmont! Julia was his go-to person before he killed her and Juste was in France and Richter was a child. Now he’s grown up and a fully realized hunter he’s capable of helping Olrox. I really don’t know what Olrox meant killing Richter “three times.” Maybe as a child, or in the cellar or now during the fight in the woods. There is an unspoken debt between Olrox and the Belmonts and during his long life he knew the Belmonts really well and had contact with them in some way.

Olrox is so mysterious of what he says or does and it isn’t subtle because there is always double meaning behind his words.

#castlevania olrox #castlevania #Olrox analysis #castlevania nocturne

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worldsokayestdragon · 2 months ago

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GreedxLing Week Day 7: Campfire

Read here on AO3

Greed had never been camping before, because why the fuck would he? He demanded the finer things in life, and leaving your nice bed behind to sleep in the dirt in the woods was not one of the finer things.

Now he was stuck on an involuntary camping trip for months and months. All the way until the promised day, which wouldn't be until spring! It had been a week, and Greed was already sick of it. The ground was too hard to sleep on comfortably, the forrest was full of weird noises, and it got colder every night. Greed was pretty sure even people who like camping didn't do it over winter unless they were actually insane.

The people Greed was with were definitely insane.

Darius and Heinkle insisted that it wasn't that bad and it "built character." Greed had plenty of character, and it was that bad! Just because some people could grow fur coats on command didn't mean they all could.

Ed also said it wasn't that bad, and it was colder in Briggs. (fucking good for Briggs then, what did that have to do with Greed?) Ed also said that his teacher had sent him on a way worse camping trip when he was nine, and that he and his brother had ended up having fun by the end of it.

Fucking insane.

Ling also told Greed it wasn't that bad and he should stop complaining, but Ling was getting a free ride in Greed's head and didn't actually have to do any of the camping shit himself, so what did he know?

Greed was the leader of this little camping trip, so he had to stay present for it. No matter how much he hated it or how little he knew about "finding a good location" or "setting up a halfway decent campsite" or "tying the food up properly so it wouldn't attract wild animals, that's just common sense Greed, what's wrong with you?”

Animals didn't like to get close to homunculi or chimera anyway, so what was the big deal if he didn't want to climb halfway up a tree to store all their shit?

So Greed was the leader, but a leader didn't do all the work. He was more than happy to let the others make handle the minutia of day to day tasks and let him focus on the bigger picture. A good leader delegated.

And somehow he still ended up left in charge of building the campfire while the chimeras went on a supply run to a nearby town. Something about Ed and Greed not knowing how to be subtle or blend in. As if two giants blended in any better. But whatever, that town was too dinky to have anything worth Greed's time anyway.

That didn't explain why Ed couldn't light the damn fire, but the alchemist insisted he needed to "check their course," which just looked like wandering around to stare at the sky and check both sides of random trees, and occasionally making marks on a map.

Ling said what he was doing made sense, and Greed didn't actually know enough about maps to dispute it.

So Greed was left with a pile of wood, another pile of little sticks and dead leaves, and a box of matches. He had very little clue what to do with any of it.

You've been camping before, right? Greed asked Ling. On your way across the desert from Xing or whatever. Can't you do this?

Ling shook his head, or did the mental equivalent of shaking his head anyway. Greed could always tell even without turning his attention inwards towards Ling's soul projection, though it wasn't a sensation he'd know how to describe to anyone.

There isn't a lot by way of firewood in the desert. And it got cold at night, but it was still summer. We mostly just slept close together. The few times we did manage a fire, Fu and Lan Fan took care of it. Sorry.

He did actually sound a little sorry, which was decent of him. There was a reason Greed didn't mind having Ling around.

Greed groaned. ugh, fine. I guess I'll do it. I can totally do it.

Of course you can, Ling said, very matter of factly. We've watched Ed do it enough times. We can figure it out easily.

Right, Greed nodded and reached to pick up a branch. How hard can it be? Ed does it.

That startled a laugh out of Ling, an undignified snort that probably couldn't be considered quite proper for a prince.

Don't let him hear you say that. We'll have to sit through a whole rant about how he's a genius and none of us are on his level.

Yeah, that would be a pain, Greed said. But this really shouldn't be too hard. You just stack the big ones in a sort of a triangle shape and put the little bits inside and then light the inside first, right?

That sounds right to me. Ling agreed.

Right. That's easy.

Greed set to work.

It was not, in fact, easy. A sort of triangle shape was not an intuitive way to stack wood. The whole thing kept tipping over and collapsing into a big jumble.

By the fifth try Greed was growling to himself and barely resisting the urge to go find Ed and throw one of those stupid sticks at his head for making Greed do this.

Maybe I should try? Ling suggested. I probably have a more steady hand from all the swordfighting.

No, Greed snapped, glaring daggers at the stick pile as he started over. I will not be beat by a stupid heap of dead tree parts! I'm gonna enjoy lighting this shit on fire. It fell over again. Oh god damnit!

Oh-kay, Ling said slowly. You do it then. I think you almost got it a few tries ago. Just take a deep breath before you start over. It will only be harder if you're angry.

It'Ll OnLy Be HaRdEr If YoU'rE aNgRy, Greed repeated.

That was probably unfair. Ling had offered to help.

Greed took a deep breath before he tried again.

It took three more attempts for Greed to successfully arrange the large branches in a loose approximation of a campfire shape.

Greed used one of the matches to light a long, thin stick on fire and poked it through into the pile of twigs and leaves inside his branch pyramid. After a few long, nerve wracking seconds, the fire spread and the whole structure went up in flames.

It didn't burn as steadily or as brightly as the ones Ed made.

It's a little lopsided– Ling started to say.

It's on fire, isn't it? Greed interrupted. He was not in the mood for criticism right now. Whataya want from me?

You didn't let me finish, Ling said calmly. I was going to say that it looks good for your first time doing it. I don't think I could do better.

Oh. Now Greed felt kinda bad for jumping down Ling's throat. Well, thanks. I–

"You call that a campfire?" Ed tromped back into the clearing they were staying in and threw himself down across the fire from Greed. "It looks like crap."

He is such an asshole, Ling sighed.

"It's a fire. It's in the camp. It's a campfire. Now shut up about it unless you want me to set you on fire too."

Ed looked like he wasn't going to shut up about it, and Greed could feel Ling getting ready to beg him to let it go and not argue with the stupid runt no matter how much of an insubordinate little shit he was being, but Darius and Heinkle chose that moment to show up.

"The fire looks–" Greed glared at Darius. "...fine and normal."

“No it doesn't,” Ed said and ignored Greed glaring daggers at his head.

"Anyway," Heinkle cut through the tension. "The store in town was having a sale, so we got a little something special for tonight." He set down the bags of food he was carrying and started digging through one of them.

"I didn't say you could spend our money on unnecessary crap," Greed pointed out. Really no one was respecting his leadership tonight.

Don't you want henchmen who are smart and capable enough not to have to bother you about every little thing? Ling asked.

He did want that. Damnit.

"Whatever, it's fine. What did you get?"

Heinkle found what he was looking for in the bags and held up a few bars of chocolate, a box of some sort of crackers, and a bag of marshmallows.

"Oh, nice!" Ed said. "I haven't had s'mores since me and Al were little."

"Some more of what?" Greed asked.

All three of them turned to stare at him.

"You've never had a s'more?" Ed yelled. He sounded personally offended by the idea. "You're like 200 years old! How is that even possible?"

Do you know what he's talking about? Greed asked Ling.

Ling shrugged. No idea. Must be an Amestran thing.

Ed stomped over to dig through the pile of extra firewood, returning with a handful of particularly long thin sticks. He shoved one into Greed's hand.

"Here! Stick a marshmallow on this and hold it over the fire," he instructed.

Greed magnanimously didn't point out how rude it was of Ed to talk to his leader like that, because he was a great guy like that. And because he was really curious about these so-called s'mores by now. (Also, in the last week he'd been told no fewer than six times to "talk to Colonel Bastard if you want to know how I talk to a leader I'm disrespecting," and Ed did generally go along with what Greed told him even if he was a little shit about it.)

Greed stuck a marshmallow to the end of the stick and held it in the fire.

It immediately burst into flames, burning to a blackened lump as Greed watched.

"Now what?"

"Try holding it a little further from the flames this time," Darius suggested, handing him a new stick and marshmallow.

Ed shook his head. "No, setting it on fire is good, you just don't sit there like a dumbass and watch it burn after." He deliberately stuck his into the fire then quickly blew it out. "Faster that way."

Greed decided to go with what Darius said and held his second marshmallow above the fire until it turned brown around the edges and threatened to fall off of its stick. Then, copying what he'd seen Ed do, he put it between two of the crackers with a piece of chocolate and took a bite.

It was hot enough to be just on the edge of burning the crap out of his mouth, and also a total mess, marshmallow and melted chocolate squishing out from the sides as he bit down.

It was also really fucking good.

Greed tried not to react to the delicious taste, not wanting to give Ed the satisfaction.

Judging from the smug smile on Ed's face, he didn't quite succeed.

"So, do you like it?" Ed asked.

"It's fine," Greed sniffed, and then took another bite because it really was amazing.

Ed snorted a laugh, but kindly didn't rub it in Greed's face any more than that. He also didn't say anything when Greed reached for another marshmallow to make a second one.

It does look good, Ling said, a little wistfully.

Do you want to try?

Really?

Ling sounded pleased and awed in a way that made Greed's face burn for some reason.

Yeah, if you want. It's not a big deal, Greed muttered, and then switched places with Ling before he could answer.

"Ling?" Ed asked, somehow noticing instantly. "What are you–"

Ling completely ignored the Fullmetal Alchemist in favor of eating their second s'more.

It tasted even better than the first one, filtered through Ling's perception where Greed settled in the back of their mind.

After they'd finished their s'mores and–at Heinkle's insistence–eaten some real food, Greed and Ling got volunteered for first watch, even though they'd done all the work setting up the campsite. Ling didn't argue their case as hard as Greed would have, and Greed didn't care enough to push his way back into control of the body over it. He'd take over again in the morning.

The fire went out an hour before they were supposed to wake Ed for his watch shift.

Ling took his turn lighting it, and it went much better with Greed's now expert advice. They both agreed that the others didn't need to know about that.

#greedxlingweek2024 #fma #greed fma #ling yao #greedling #edward elric #the final day!#this ones more of a implied/pre relationship situation #and its pre ling forcing greed to realize he wants human connection #so he is not self aware at all #and cannot even recognize his big obvious crush much less articulate it #greed and ling both have many skills but i refuse to believe either of them know jack shit about camping #im kinda sad this is the last day #but i had so much fun

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mother-homunculus · 11 days ago

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WINTERSUN

A year after the death of his first wife, Arra Norrey, Cregan Stark is practically pressured by other lords from the North to remarry. He finds a suitable candidate in Ylva, a daughter of House Umber, who would much rather stay in her family's remote castle.

Pairing: Cregan x OC

Hello my lovelies, I actually wanted to wait a little longer with this story, but some of you will certainly know how it is: If you have a good idea, it has to come out. And there simply has to be more fanfiction about our lovable Cregan.

As you could read in the description, my OC is a character from the House of Umber. I am a big fan of the families from the north, but I particularly like the Umbers. It's a shame that they aren't mentioned so much. But good for me, it gives me more freedom.

Small note: The seal of the house is the one from the books :)

And the capital is a little longer than intended.

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut, Angst, Fluff and Smut, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Protective Cregan Stark, Grief/Mourning

Please note that an animal dies and is gutted.

Chapter 1: Fields of Snow

The air was thick with the weight of the winter, a biting cold that seeped into stone and bone alike—ancient, unforgiving, and eternal. It swept over the vast white expanse, where snow stretched unbroken for miles. The distant sound of the wind howling through the frozen hills blended with the occasional crack of ice and the groan of snow-laden trees.

Amidst the harshness of the region, Last Hearth stood as a dark and unyielding presence, carved from the cold, unrelenting stone of the land itself. The North's fierce resilience and the unwavering spirit of House Umber infuse every stone of this bastion against the wilds. The castle rose from a low hill, its silhouette dark against the horizon, framed by an endless sea of snow and the swirling gray sky. Its walls, thick and ancient, bore the scars of countless winters, their surfaces darkened by frost and weathered by the passage of time. Snow clung stubbornly to the cracks and crevices, the ice sparkling faintly in the wan light of the sun, which hovered low in the sky like a dying ember. Jagged towers rose like claws into the heavens, their watchful spires cloaked in snow and ice. Icicles hung from their eaves, glistening like shards of glass in the pale, meager light of the winter sun.

The gatehouse, a colossal construction of iron and oak, stood powerfully and unyieldingly before all who granted entry. Its doors, massive and imposing, bore the sigil of House Umber—a roaring giant breaking free of its chains—etched deep into the wood. Though the colors had faded, and the edges had worn smooth, the emblem remained a testament to the strength and fierceness of the house it represented. Above the gate, a lone banner fluttered weakly in the wind, its fabric frayed by years of relentless storms.

Beyond the fortress walls, the land sloped downward into dense forests, where towering fir trees and ancient oaks stood tall and silent, their branches heavy with snow, and their roots buried deep beneath the frozen earth. Trees formed a natural barrier, their canopy blocking out much of the fading light. Somewhere deep within those woods lay ancient secrets, the whispered memories of a land older than men.

The hunting party moved swiftly but cautiously, the chill of the early afternoon biting their exposed skin. Snow blanketed the ground in a crisp, unbroken sheet, muffling the sounds of hooves as the group moved forward. They were tracking a bear. The creature had been raiding the livestock near Last Hearth, leaving mauled carcasses and claw-marked trees in its wake.

Lord Jon Umber, his broad frame draped in a thick fur cloak, rode at the front, closely followed by his only daughter, Ylva. Beside her, Osric sat tall in the saddle, his face set in concentration, while Torren, ever impatient, kept pushing his horse just slightly ahead, his restless energy drawing a disapproving glance from their father.

Lord Umber commanded the group with effortless authority. His voice, rough and deep, carried over the soft crunch of snow.

"This one’s big and angry," Lord Umber said, gesturing to the massive claw marks on a tree trunk.

Hallis Hornwood, a veteran fighter and longtime friend of Lord Umber, chuckled as he leaned forward in his saddle. "Angry, aye, but maybe not as angry as you’ll be if one of your boys gets themselves mauled."

Torren shot him a glare, rising to his full height. "Worry about yourself, old man. You will need all your strength just to keep up."

"Enough, both of you," Lord Umber barked, his tone cutting through the exchange. "Focus on the trail. We are not here to bicker."

Osric looked at his sister.

"You have been quiet. Thoughts?"

Ylva’s gaze swept the scene as her mind pieced together the bear’s path. The broken branches ahead and the faint traces of fur snagged on bark told her all she needed to know.

"It’s heading northeast," she said, pointing toward the thicker part of the forest. "If we keep pace, we will catch it near the ravine." Her voice was calm, though her pulse quickened at the prospect of the hunt.

Her father nodded, approval gleaming in his eyes. "Good eye, Ylva. You heard her—move."

The group set off again, their horses’ hooves crunching through the snow. The ward of Lord Umber, a young man named Jeor, rode beside Ylva. He was lean and serious, his bow slung over his shoulder. "What is your plan when we corner it?" he asked her.

"Depends on where we find it," Ylva said, her fingers tightening around the reins. "But I suppose I will figure it out before you do."

Jeor smirked but said nothing, nudging his horse forward.

As they neared the ravine, Lord Umber raised a hand, signaling the group to stop. They dismounted silently, tying their horses to low-hanging trees. Osric unsheathed his sword, the sound whispering through the cold. Ylva gripped her spear, its weight familiar and comforting in her hand. She crouched down to inspect the tracks. Her leather armor creaked softly, and her bright eyes scanned the ground ahead. Ylva stood, brushing the snow from her hands.

"Do you think it is as big as that bear you and Osric took down last spring?" Torren asked, his voice a mix of nervousness and excitement.

Ylva smirked, standing and planting the butt of her spear in the snow. "Bigger, I hope. Last spring’s bear was hardly a challenge."

"Do not tempt fate, Ylva. Last time, you nearly got your arm ripped off." Osric said, his voice steady and laced with the calm of an older brother who had seen his sister’s confidence in action too many times. “You will regret those words when it is charging straight at you."

"I have seen her take on wilder things than a bear," Torren piped up, grinning. She behaves similarly to the kitchen staff when they run out of honey.

Ylva raised a hand to signal a halt, then turned to the group.

"It is doubling back toward the rocks," she said. Her voice was steady, but her eyes sparkled with exhilaration. "If we move quickly, we can box it in."

The hunting party pressed onward, the snow growing thicker underfoot, the dense forest began to thin out, and the tracks veered sharply to the right. The group spread as Ylva instructed, forming a rough semicircle to trap the bear. They are heavy with anticipation, every crackle of frost or snap of a branch causing hands to tighten on weapons. Ylva crept forward, her spear at the ready, her movements fluid and quiet despite the layers of armor.

Torren, eager as always, impatiently shifted his weight as he followed his sister's lead. He tightly clutched his spear in his gloved hands.

"Torren, hold your place," Lord Umber commanded, his voice low but firm, his massive axe slung across his back. "This is not a game. That beast could split you in two before you’d even have time to raise your spear."

Torren grumbled but fell back, his youthful pride bruised.

A deep growl echoed through the trees, causing a chill to run down their spines. Without warning, the bear burst from the underbrush, a massive wall of muscle and fur as dark as midnight. Its roar shook the air, a terrifying sound that may froze the hearts of even the most seasoned men. The bear lunged toward the group, its claws swiping through the air with deadly precision.

Lord Umber was the first to act, his axe glinting in the pale light as he stepped into its path. The bear swiped at him, but he dodged to the side with surprising agility, his axe biting into the beast’s flank. The beast roared in pain and reared up on its hind legs, towering above them all.

"Hold your ground!" he shouted, his voice commanding.

Osric moved next, his sword slicing through the air to land a blow across the bear’s shoulder. Ylva’s heart raced, but she did not falter. With a quick motion, she hurled her spear, the weapon sinking into the bear’s flank. The beast turned toward her with an enraged roar, its massive paws striking the ground where she had stood moments before.

She rolled out of the way just as Torren charged in, rushing to her side with his own spear. Together, they circled the bear, forcing it to split its attention between them.

"Watch yourself, Torren!", Osric shouted, his voice taut with worry as the younger boy narrowly avoided a swipe from the bear’s claws.

"I am fine!" Torren yelled back, his voice tinged with both fear and exhilaration.

The coordinated attacks of strikes and dodges began to wear the beast down, but it remained dangerous, lashing out with terrifying strength. Ylva maneuvered swiftly, delivering precise and fearless strikes, while her taunts deterred the bear from approaching the less experienced fighters. Jeor shot an arrow that found its mark in the bear’s shoulder, staggering it further.

Lord Umber and Hallis seized the opportunity, their weapons cutting deep into the creature with heavy, deliberate strikes. The older man stepped forward for the final blow. His axe came down in a powerful arc, striking the bear at the base of its neck. With a final growl, the bear collapsed into the snow, its massive body heaving once before going still.

Ylva stood over the fallen bear, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. Cold and adrenaline flushed her cheeks. Ylva stepped forward, her spear still embedded in the beast’s side. She planted her boot on its thick fur and pulled the weapon free, a satisfied smile on her face.

Her father approached, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder. "Quick, strong, and fearless," he said, pride gleaming in his eyes. "You’ve got the Umber blood, that’s for sure, girl."

Osric nodded in agreement, his face breaking into a rare smile despite his usual gruffness. "You handled yourself well, Ylva. Better than most men would have."

Torren grinned as he wiped blood from his face, his hands trembling slightly as he leaned on his own weapon. "Not bad for someone who spends her time playing nursemaid to the little ones," Torren teased, drawing a glare from Ylva. "I’ll remember that the next time you come whining to me about your aches after training."

The bear’s body loomed like a fallen mountain, its massive bulk spread across the snow, its dark fur matted with blood. The beast was enormous, its bulk nearly the size of the sledge they’d prepared to haul it back. Ylva stood over it, the cold seeping through her thick, dark wool tunic. She glanced toward the quiet forest, the thrill of the hunt still coursing through her veins. Around her, the others worked swiftly, their breaths rising in misty clouds as they prepared for the arduous task ahead. They had little daylight left; in a few hours the sun would die, and the blood would sooner or later attract other animals, especially wolves. This wasn’t her first hunt, but a bear was a prize unlike any other. It would provide them with food for weeks, and its fur could be used to make soft, warm cloaks.

Hallis tightened the leather straps of his gloves, his sharp eyes darting to the tree line as if expecting wolves to burst forth at any moment. Ryon, younger and less seasoned, shifted his weight nervously, one hand gripping the hilt of his blade while the other fumbled with the ropes slung over his shoulder.

Ylva crouched beside it; her knife was already in her hand, its blade sharp and ready.

“Never seen one this big,” Torren murmured, running a hand over the coarse fur.

“We’ve got daylight for maybe two or three hours—maybe less,” Hallis said gruffly, breaking the silence. His sharp eyes scanned the tree line before he gestured at Jeor, who lagged a few steps behind. “Let’s not waste it. Jeor, with me. Help me prepare the sledge." He gave a sheepish nod, his cheeks flushing as he joined Hallis. “Aye, I am coming.”

Ylva kneels at the bear’s head, glancing at its thick neck. Its enormous jaws slack, revealing yellow teeth that could have crushed a man’s skull, and the massive paws, tipped with claws the length of daggers, could have ripped her apart in an instant. Yet here it lay, lifeless and still. She glanced at Osric, who had already positioned himself to help.

“Start with the throat,” Osric instructed, his voice calm but firm as he crouched beside her. “We bleed it first.”

She nodded, her fingers stiff from the cold as she positioned the blade just below the jaw. The bear’s fur was dense, coarse against her gloves, and it took effort to press the blade into its flesh. The knife bit deep, and with a practiced pull, she opened the artery. Blood gushed out in a hot, steaming flow, pooling darkly in the snow. Torren, on the other side, held the bear’s massive head steady with both hands, his boots sinking into the crimson-stained ground.

“Good cut,” Torren muttered, glancing at her with a faint nod. “It will drain quickly.”

Hallis and Jeor were working in tandem to tie sturdy branches together with rawhide, but Jeor's face was a little pale. The young hunter’s hands shook slightly as he tied a knot, earning a sharp look from Hallis. He’d never processed a kill this large before, and the sheer size of the bear seemed to unsettle him.

“Steady, boy,” Hallis growled. “You’ve seen worse than this.”

“I know,” Ryon muttered, flushing. “It’s just… big. Feels like it’s still watching us.”

“Then work faster,” Hallis snapped, yanking the rope taut and testing the frame. “Wolves won’t wait for you to stop quivering.”

“Here,” Osric said, handing Ylva a larger blade. “Make the first cut down the belly. Torren, you hold the hide steady.”

Torren was at her side in moments, bracing the bear’s leg with his shoulder. “Got it,” he grunted.

Ylva made a long, deliberate cut from the chest to the hindquarters, slicing through the thick layers of fur and fat. The smell of warm flesh, rich and earthy, mingled with the metallic tang of blood, causing Ylva to wrinkle her nose as she continued to work.

“Not bad,” Torren muttered, pulling the edges of the hide apart as Ylva continued cutting. “You’re getting faster at this.”

The knife slid cleanly, revealing the rich red of muscle beneath. Osric leaned in, gripping the edges of the hide and pulling it back as she worked.

“Do not distract her,” Osric said with a smirk, but there was a note of pride in his voice. He moved to the other side, gripping the hide and helping peel it back. “Keep it steady.”

“Careful not to nick the meat,” he murmured. “Father won’t be pleased if this comes back torn to ribbons.”

“Father won’t bother looking,” Ylva replied dryly, earning a chuckle from Osric. Lord Umber rarely concerned himself with such tasks, trusting his children and men to handle the practicalities.

They worked methodically, peeling the hide from the massive body, the cold air biting at their exposed fingers. Ylva’s arms ached from the effort, but she did not stop. Torren grunted with exertion, his breath fogging in the air as he braced his boots against the snow for leverage.

With the hide finally free, they rolled it carefully and set it aside. “That will make fine cloaks,” Ylva remarked.

“Hallis, bring those sacks closer. We will need them for the fat.”

After finishing the final knot on the sledge, Hallis hauled the sacks over, with Ryon following closely behind. “The wolves will smell this from leagues away,” Hallis grumbled. “We’d best work faster.”

“Don’t forget the fat,” Lord Umber shouted from a few steps away. “That’ll fetch a price at the market if we don’t need it all.”

Ylva rolled her eyes playfully as Torren knelt nearby, carefully carving out chunks of the fatty layers, which glistened pale yellow in the dim light. Hallis packed the fatty layers into a sack, muttering about how much tallow they’d be able to render from it.

Ylva glanced over at him. “We will need some for Smalljon’s boots. He tore through the last pair already.”

Hallis smirked. “Aye, growing like a weed, that one.”

Afterwards Ylva focused on the bear’s hindquarters, the thick haunches rich with muscle. She carved through the layers with careful movements, her blade slicing cleanly along the bone. Torren joined her, his blade moving less smoothly but no less precisely. They worked together, slicing the flesh into manageable sections, each brimming with meat, and meticulously wrapping each piece in cloth to maintain its cleanliness.

Jeor, emboldened by the sight of the others working, took up an axe and moved to the ribs. “Careful,” Hallis said, watching him swing the axe to crack open the ribcage. “Don’t shatter it and waste beneficial marrow.”

“I know,” Jeor replied, his tone defensive but focused. The first swing was too light, the blade glancing off the bone with a dull thud.

Hallis responded with a slight smile. “Do it again, lad, and aim straight this time.”

Jeor flushed but tightened his grip, bringing the axe down again with more force. This time, the ribs cracked apart, the sound sharp in the stillness, exposing the tender meat inside. He grinned despite himself, looking to Hallis for approval, but the older hunter merely grunted and moved on.

Meanwhile, Ylva worked on removing the organs. The bear’s ribcage was cavernous, and the warmth of its innards was a stark contrast to the freezing air. She pulled free the heart, its weight solid and heavy in her hands, and handed it to Ryon, who placed it carefully in a sack. "Don't forget about the liver and kidneys," Osric said, reaching in to assist. The two of them worked swiftly, the rich, dark organs joining quickly.

As the light continued to fade, the group grew more urgent. Lord Umber supervised the packing process, making sure to secure every piece of usable meat, fat, and hide. Jeor and Ylva helped lash the larger cuts to the sled, their hands raw and cold despite their gloves.

“We’re nearly done. Just the bones left.” Osric was wiping his blade clean on a strip of cloth. He nodded toward the bear's skull and said, "The head. That’ll take two of us.”

Torren stepped forward without hesitation, gripping one side of the massive head while Osric took the other. And as the sun sank completely, they hoisted the bear’s head onto the sledge, its open jaws still a menacing sight. The younger one paused for a moment, catching his breath.

“That’s it,” Ylva said, stepping back to survey their work. The sled creaked under its weight, laden with the bounty of their hunt.

“Ready to move?” Osric asked, his breath visible in the freezing air.

“Ready,” his sister confirmed, gripping the sledge’s reins.

Hallis, Ylva, and Torren mounted their horses while Osric, Jeor, and some other men took care of the sledge. The first step proved to be the most challenging, as the sledge struggled against the frozen ground, but they managed to push it forward together. The wind whistled through the trees, and the faint howl of wolves echoed in the distance.

“Think they will catch our scent?” Torren asked nervously, glancing over his shoulder.

“If they do,” Hallis said with a grim smile, gripping his axe, “they’ll regret it.”

The group set off through the snow, it crunching beneath their boots. The forest grew darker with each step, the wind whispering through the trees, carrying the scent of blood and sweat. Ylva’s arms ached, but she felt relieved, knowing they would feast, and the bear’s gifts would see them through the harsh winter to come.

Ylva didn’t look back.

The Great Hall of Last Hearth was alive with its usual supper sounds—spoons clinking against wooden bowls, mugs slamming onto the long oak table, and voices rising in hearty chatter. Fires crackled in the hearths, their warmth a fierce contrast to the cold that prowled just beyond the thick stone walls. As the Umber family gathered for their evening meal, the scent of roasted venison, freshly baked bread, and hearty root vegetables crowded the long oak table, mingling with the faint tang of ale. Torches sputtered in their brackets, casting flickering light on the faces of the family and the ancient tapestries hanging on the walls. Outside, the wind howled its usual mournful tune, battering against the thick stone walls, but inside, the hearth blazed, defying the cold.

At the head of the table sat Lord Umber, his booming voice cutting through the din as he recounted the day’s events. His laughter rumbled like thunder as he recounted the latest news from the holdfasts and hunting trails. Around him sat his brood, ranging in age but all sharing the same sharp, unyielding features that spoke of their northern blood.

Ylva sat in her usual seat, close to her father, a bundle of mischief cradled on her lap. Her youngest brother, barely more than a year old, squirmed in her arms, faint tufts of pale hair that stuck up stubbornly, no matter how often she smoothed them down. His bright, wide eyes darted around, taking in the movement and noise of his older siblings and father. Ylva, ever patient, adjusted him gently so he could sit comfortably against her chest, his tiny hands reaching out to grab at the edge of the table.

A warm bowl of stew sat in front of them, steam curling upward, rich with the savory scents of slow-cooked meat, root vegetables, and fragrant herbs. Ylva dipped a wooden spoon into the broth, carefully blowing on the portion to cool it. Her lips pursed slightly as she tested the temperature against the back of her hand, ensuring it wasn’t too hot. Her eyes flicked to her brother’s face, checking to see if he was paying attention. Satisfied, she brought the spoon to her brother's small mouth.

“Open up, little bear,” she said softly, her voice laced with affection. The toddler looked up at her, his expression curious but wary. After a moment of hesitation, he opened his mouth, his tiny lips wrapping around the spoon as he tasted the stew. Ylva guided the spoon carefully, her steady hand ensuring not a drop spilled. His face lit up with delight, a wide smile spreading across his chubby cheeks.

“I knew you’d like it,” Ylva murmured, smiling as she scooped up another spoonful. She adjusted him on her lap, alternating between feeding him and eating her own meal, her movements fluid and practiced, a testament to how often she cared for him. When he became distracted, turning his head to watch their older brothers’ animated conversation, Ylva gently guided his attention back to her with a soft touch on his cheek.

Occasionally, the boy tried to grab the spoon himself, his tiny fingers wrapping around hers as she helped him guide it to his mouth. Ylva chuckled softly, her laughter low and soothing. “Oh, you think you’re ready for this, do you?” she teased, allowing him to guide the spoon toward his mouth with her assistance. His uncoordinated effort resulted in a smear of stew across his chin, but Ylva just laughed, grabbing a linen cloth from the table and dabbing at his face. She wiped away the mess with the practiced ease of someone who had done this countless times, her movements tender and unhurried. When he squirmed, distracted by the sound of their father’s booming laughter or the clatter of utensils, she gently turned his face back toward her with a soft touch on his cheek.

“Focus,” she said mock-sternly, though her tone carried nothing but affection. “We’ve got work to do here.” The boy settled again, leaning into her for warmth and comfort as he took another spoonful.

When the bowl was nearly empty, Ylva set the spoon down and wrapped both arms around the little boy, holding him close. She pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, her lips brushing against his warm skin as she whispered, “There we go, full belly and all.” The boy nuzzled into her shoulder, his breath slowing as he drifted toward sleep. Around them, the boisterous noise of the Umber family carried on. Her father glanced over, his expression softening as he watched them, and even her brothers, rough and rowdy as they were, paused to smile at the sight.

Lord Jon Umber leaned back in his chair, his broad hand curling around his goblet. His gaze swept the table, lingering for a moment on each of his children before he spoke.

Then, casually, almost as if the thought had just struck him, he spoke.

“Word reached me from Winterfell today,” he began, his deep voice carrying over the noise. The conversation faltered; curiosity piqued. His eyes flickered to Ylva, though his tone suggested he was speaking to no one in particular. “Cregan Stark might be considering a second wife. His boy needs a mother, and the North needs heirs.”

The statement lingered in the air; the casual delivery was unable to mask the significance of it. Slowly, the noise around the table began to quiet, and one by one, the eyes of the family turned toward Ylva, who was focused on her little brother in her arms. With time, Smalljon began to slump against her chest, his eyelids drooping and his small body growing heavier in her arms. Ylva brushed her fingers through his hair, humming a low Northern lullaby, her voice barely audible over the din of the room. The melody was haunting and soothing, a tune their mother had once sung on cold nights to quiet restless children.

The silence at the table stretched, unnatural and heavy. It wasn’t until the clatter of a dropped knife echoed through the quiet that Ylva realized the entire table had grown unnaturally still. Her movements slowed, and she glanced up, her brows furrowing as she took in the sea of expectant faces around her.

“What?” She asked, her voice level but edged with wariness.

Her father studied her with a look of faint amusement, as if waiting for her to take the bait. Osric leaned back with his arms crossed, his brow raised in silent curiosity. As he leaned forward, a sly grin spread across his face. “What indeed,” he said. “You heard Father. Winterfell’s lord needs a wife. You've always been so eager to prove yourself the equal of any man here. Who is better than a Stark? You’re strong enough to handle him.” A few of the younger boys snickered nervously, only to fall silent when Lord Umber gave them a pointed look. He leaned back in his chair with a mockingly grand gesture. “What say you, sister? Will you be the pride of the Umbers and warm the Warden of the North’s bed?”

The laughter this time was louder, more confident, emboldened by Osric’s audacity. But Ylva did not flinch. She let the moment linger, studying her brother as if he were a particularly foolish opponent in a sparring match.

“If it concerns you so much, Osric, perhaps you should offer to marry Lord Stark,” she said, her tone cold as the wind outside. “I’m sure he’d be thrilled to have such a clever, sharp-tongued companion to keep him warm.”

The laughter died instantly, replaced by a stunned silence. Osric’s smirk faltered, and his cheeks flushed red. The younger boys tried to stifle their snickers but failed miserably, their muffled guffaws echoing in the hall. Even Lord Umber let out a low chuckle as Torren sputtered, nearly choking on his bread.

Osric recovered quickly, leaning forward with mock indignation. “That’s no way to speak to your future liege, Ylva. If you think—”

“I think,” Ylva interrupted smoothly, “that I’ve said enough for one evening.” Ylva adjusted the boy’s blanket, pulling it snug around him as he burrowed closer. Her hands, calloused from years of training and work, handled him with a gentleness that belied her strength. She picked up the baby and rose from her seat. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, the little one needs to sleep, and I have no interest in wasting more time on nonsense.” Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away; the toddler gurgled happily in her arms.

“Always the sharp tongue,” her father called, though there was no disapproval in his voice. “You’ve got your mother’s wit, girl, but don’t think I’ll let you dodge the subject so easily.”

After Ylva left the hall, the conversation gradually shifted back to other topics—hunting, the preparations for winter, the comings and goings of the bannermen—but the atmosphere in the hall had subtly changed. Osric, for his part, merely muttered under his breath, though he wisely refrained from further comment.

#cregan stark x original female character #cregan stark x oc #cregan stark fanfiction #cregan stark #hotd fanfiction

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banana-pancake5 · 6 months ago

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Chapter 2: Broken Promises (Part 2/3)

———

Leo and Vita soared through the sky as they jumped across rooftops. They weren’t on any real mission, they just thought it’d be fun. Perhaps it was a celebration of their recovery.

“See that Bestie!? You did nothing!! We’re doing GREAT!!” Vita yelled out in spite and mockery to the Krang trapped in another dimension.

Leo laughed at the sudden spiteful shouts. He had become used to how she acted, and honestly he enjoyed it. It was fun to just yell out to the Krang; Krang Prime couldn’t hurt them anymore.

Although, during their recovery it couldn’t have been more annoying to have someone constantly laughing at their injuries and speaking like the Krang were still there. Oh, and after they discovered her “Bestie” was Krang Prime?? That was infuriating. But as the days went on they realized how much she hated the Krang, she called the Krang her bestie out of pure spite. She did because she found it stupidly hilarious. And after a while Leo thought it was pretty funny too.

“Yeah! Take that Krang, we’re still going!” Leo joined in.

“Tell ‘em Lee!!”

“You’re the one trapped and we’re both free! How does it feel to have failed so miserably you piece of chewed gum!!”

“HAHAHAHAH!!!” Vita freely laughed though the sky, no more awful coughs from never ending injuries.

They continued shouting at the Krang and laughing as they jumped through New York.

Then Vita stopped. Not just the laughing and joking, but she physically stopped.

Leo was already at the edge of the roof when he noticed. He quickly spun his arms in an attempt to balance himself from his quick stop.

“A warning would’ve been nice!” He said half joking as he walked over to his sister perched on the roof. “What’s the deal mi hermana? Something catch your eye?”

She didn’t say anything. Her eyes were focused on the building in front of them. Oh… the Nexus Hotel.

“Eugh boy, yeah we’re not welcome there. Big Mama owns that place and she’s not a big fan of us,” Vita still stared blankly toward the neon sign, “Sooooo, we should probably be on our way!” Leo made an exaggerated step away from the view of the Hotel.

Then Vita jumped. Vita just… JUMPED! Leo rushed over and leaned over the wall as he looked down at Vita diving toward the ground. “Vita what are you doing!?”

He watched her dive closer to the street before whipping out a pair of Ninpo Whips. That was the first time he’d ever really seen her use her Ninpo for something other than goofing off. A breath he didn’t know he had been holding in released as he watched her swing off of lamp posts.

What am I supposed to do here? She just left without a word! Do I let her figure whatever it is out on her own? Should I stay with her in case she doesn’t know what she’s doing? Should I get the others? She survived however long with the Krang I’m sure she can handle Big Mama. But does that mean I should just let her? I’m the leader. I need a plan. What would a leader do!?

Leo’s rambling thoughts were disrupted by a far away shout in his sister’s scratchy voice, he couldn’t make out the words from the distance but they sounded angry.

Whatever she was saying it was a problem. She was right above so many people. She shouldn’t just be screaming like that! What if they see them?

He looked over the edge of the building to see if any humans had noticed. A couple people that he could see were looking up trying to find the noise but they didn’t seem to be recording.

To be safe, Leo immediately texted Donnie to search for and delete any footage that might have caught her. He did not want the government after them. They had enough stress the past couple of months to last them a lifetime.

Leo paced on the rooftop trying to decide what to do—

The faint sound of a window breaking interrupted his thoughts.

He rushed over the side of the rooftop for the third time to see what had happened. he couldn’t see too clearly from the distance but it seemed like it came from the Nexus Hotel.

Okay that was it. Leo had to make sure she didn’t get herself killed. He trusted his sister. He would stay back unless things got too bad, but he just had to know what was going on.

He unsheathed his sword and cut through the cold night air, creating a vibrant blue portal. He stared into the portal and suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion.

Maybe jumping across rooftops the whole night after just being cleared from crutches wasn’t the best idea. His stupid knee brace didn’t seem to be helping all that much either. How was Vita so… okay?? Throughout her entire recovery she seemed like she was almost unbothered by her numerous injuries. But then again, Leo put on his own facade during his recovery too.

He gathered himself up, took in a deep breath, and stepped through the portal and walked right into the spider’s web.

Eugh, he hated this place. Nothing good came from Big Mama. Sure the Battle Nexus was fun but this was just her hotel. Nothing cool going on in there. Why did Vita come?

His portal placed him down in the lobby. Dum dum portal taking him to the wrong place yet again.

He carefully traversed the Hotel and only a few guards spotted him. But by that point alarms had already been going off and the guards were busy so he easily got away.

Either way, he had been going slower than he should have.

He’s being too reckless. A good leader wouldn’t have been spotted so quickly.

He pushed through any discomfort he was feeling and continued searching.

He spotted Vita rather quickly. He stayed far enough back so that he could see her but couldn’t quite make out what she was saying.

He saw her yelling at someone but couldn’t make out any of the words through the blaring alarms. She sounded furious… or desperate? He really couldn’t tell. He looked closer at who she was shouting at and recognized almost immediately.

She was yelling at Big Mama’s assistant.

That had to be bad.

But there wasn’t any fighting. Maybe it was okay?

Then guards came. About five of them rushed her and pinned her to the ground. Then they started dragging her away. She didn’t even put up a fight. Oh come on Vee, you’ll fight to the death over a piece of pizza but not when you’re in real danger?

Every fiber in his body was telling him to ninja in, rescue her, and ninja out but his body said otherwise. He was exhausted from the rooftops and had a massive headache from the yelling and alarms. He couldn’t risk both of them being captured.

He split a portal open and ran through into the lair.

His breathing was heavy and he looked into the lair. No one was in the main area.

Nope, no time for this.

He immediately made a second portal back to the Nexus Hotel. He didn’t have time to run around looking for his brothers.

He walked through the portal—

His eyes became pinpricks as he looked down in shock at Vita sitting outside the back of the hotel. Well, she was okay. That was good. But why did she do that!?

“What is wrong with you!? What was so important that you nearly got both of us spotted by practically everyone in New York!? You gave me a heart attack, Vita!”

Leo suddenly found himself voicing his thoughts in a tone harsher than intended.

Vita looked up at him and he flinched when saw the wet streaks down her face.

Oooookay. Not good.

Any anger he expressed was quickly suffocated by shock and concern.

“Cool cool cool, you know what, it’s fine.” He sat down next to Vita, “can we head back? We can talk back at the lair, okay?”

“Heh, sure thing Lee.”

She sounded tired. Alright, questions later, comfort now.

He brought her over to his room and pulled out a beanbag and a weighted blanket for her and sat across from it on his bed. The beanbag he had in there was for reading comics and the weighted blanket was for Donnie. Countless late night conversations and impromptu sleepovers lead him to always keep a weighted blanket in his room. He too used it on occasion, especially with his new development of constant horrid nightmares nearly every night.

He knew with his brothers that when they were panicked or upset they usually needed a moment alone with their thoughts, “I’m here whenever you’re ready to explain what happened. I’m… just gonna read a comic until you’re ready.”

She scrunched herself up in a ball on the beanbag, holding her knees to her plastron. She didn’t say anything for a while.

Leo was trying to focus on the comic, but he was extremely nervous. He had never had to comfort Vita before. He had no idea what she needed. His leg was tapping up and down repeatedly. He finally looked at her and spoke up, “You can leave if you don’t want to be here…”

She shook her head and stayed silent on the little blue beanbag.

They stayed like that for a few more minutes before she let out a small laugh. Leo immediately looked up from his bed.

“Ha… hahahaHAHAHAHAHAHA SHE FORGOT ME! SHE- She really forgot me. Haha…” Her laughs shifted to quiet cries in seconds.

He was startled by her quick manic laugh, but he quickly got off his bed to sit beside her. When she laughed like that, so raw and hectic, it was bone chilling. It was so wrong. She only laughed like that in situations where others wouldn’t dare speak. Situations that were dire. Situations that left everyone panicked. In the silent fear her laugh would tear through her throat and break the silence. That unsettling feeling he got when he heard that laugh was something that he never got past during their recovery. But he didn’t show it. He just put on his carefully articulated mask and leaned his shell against the beanbag hoping to comfort her in whatever way possible.

She wiped the tears off her face and stayed curled up on the beanbag.

“How are you doing?” Leo asked after a moment of silence.

“Hahaha im doing just great Lee! My only family just completely forgot about me! Isn’t it stupid? I’m crying because she forgot me but I literally forgot myself! I had no clue what my own name was ‘till a couple of weeks ago!!”

Leo had no clue what she was talking about. He could only assume this family was another joke like her ‘bestie.’

But he did know that she had family, “Hey! what do you mean your only family forgot you? I’m literally your brother! Or wait— Gasp! Do I not count?!”

“What- Lee that’s not what I meant.”

“Ok so since I apparently don’t count, much offense taken, how about Raph? Or Mikey?”

“Heheh, you forgot Don!”

“Exuse me! You count that eggheaded weirdo over moi!? How dare!”

“BAHAHAHAHA!!” Her laughter sent her flipping backwards off her beanbag and onto a pile of comic books behind. The second she made contact with the comic books she stopped laughing. She and Leo stared at each other with dead pan expressions before they both burst into a fit of laughter.

She seemed to have forgotten about whatever it was she was talking about because after that moment she was back to herself. He made a mental note that jokes were a great way to help her.

That night ended with a movie marathon on Leo’s phone and a selfie added to Leo’s 3AM album.

MasterPost // Pt. 1 // Pt. 3

———

As an explanation part 2 is the same as part 1 but it follows Leo’s perspective rather than Vita’s! And I’m sure you could guess what part 3 will be like :>

Tag list: @jadetheblueartist @exhaustedwriterartist @cookiedoesart64 @theplacewhereidumpmyinterests @anglepsycho (please tell me if anyone would like to be added or taken off the tag list!!)

I hope y’all enjoyed it! :D

14 notes · View notes

mmkin · 2 months ago

Text

spicy shark and siren! (Arlong is such a stud...)

Next chapter of the Siren's Shark is up. The previous chapter was more cenetered on violence, but this one has smut... a LOT of it. Totally NSFW but I felt my fans deserved a treat.

And I was also in a sassy mood so I decided to actually draw some Arlong smut too... so here's a picture of Arlong and his little squid. Chapter link to AO3 here and also under the pic.

XIV

o0o0o0o

The masters of the island were rounded up, most of them were accounted for. A few were missing, but they could not stay hidden forever. Kuroobi smirked to himself as he looked at the registers. Nearly a dozen elite families and privileged citizens, numbering less than a couple hundred, had until hours ago, the power over an island that was home to several thousand people.

Out of the commoners, nearly half of them were indentured or enslaved. Much as he disliked humans, Kuroobi was wise enough to show basic civility to the commoners and slaves given the aid they’d rendered unto their fishman liberators.

Kuroobi wanted to sneer at the idea of needing help from humans, but he had to admit that it made the whole process a lot easier. As long as they were fed and unmolested, their children safe, and they had roofs over their heads, the freed slaves and their supporters were happy enough to stay out of the way of the fishmen who had expressed their fury in a way no one would forget for a long time.

Not that the human slaves didn’t have their own fury to express. One of the masters had been stabbed to death by several of his female slaves, and another fell to his death after being chased by more slaves.

Fewer humans to deal with, he told himself pragmatically as he looked across the clearing where what remained of the masters and their guards were, collared and chained, awaiting their fate while Toma and several other fishmen kept watch over them and taunted them. The morning sun was rising high, and he saw several of these wretched humans shift around uncomfortably. When one asked for water, Toma laughed and spat at the man.

o0o0o0o

The crops growing on Marzu were not as varied as that of Dreamsicle Island, but it allowed for a great amount of self-sufficiency, with some of the more exotic items sent to Marijoa. So there was plenty enough to go around for the humans and fishmen alike, and Arlong sat in the courtyard of the Mayor’s villa, looking down the slope at the other estates surrounding the palatial villa. Beyond them sat the wall and the gap that had been blown into it.

This was hardly a bad place to stay for a while, Arlong mused. His crew had earned a much-needed rest, and there was still plenty of booty to gather and split up. Several of the villas had burned to the ground, but all things considered, his housing options were very solid at the moment.

The gratitude of the freed humans was strange to deal with. He was used to being regarded with fear and hatred, but now he was being compared to Fisher Tiger.

How do you like that, Big Brother? Arlong mused as he stared up at the sky. He took a swig of his beer before he looked down. There was no pool here, though, he thought as he remembered the welcoming pools at Arlong Park, how a fishman could easily traverse through the canals between Arlong Park and the sea. There was a hot tub here, but this place didn’t have the charm of Arlong Park.

Out of the fishmen that were enslaved here, a handful took to the sea as quickly as possible, never looking back, but there were still several dozen fishmen remaining, along with several Minks or other exotics. More recently-enslaved fishmen were aware of Fisher Tiger and the Sun Pirates, and a few of them knew of the Arlong Pirates, too. It was bittersweet answering questions from fishmen who were hungry for news since Arlong hadn't been to Fishman Island in over a decade.

For the man who liberated Marzu Island, most of the humans were quite cooperative. They were just so damn happy to have their collars off. Koji and Hazel were reunited with their families, and Lily had been turned loose on Marzu albeit under Hazel's guidance, so that was fewer humans to worry about. Some of his fishmen had been injured, but they were resting and recovering under the watchful eye of Lew and their nakama. And his crew had learned from their defeat at the hands of the Straw Hats. They were more vigilant here despite having the appearance of having a good time, making use of Marzu and its resources, generally giving the humans a berth while determining the fates of the former masters.

One of his fishmen led a middle-aged man forward. He had light brown hair and a thick beard, and the thickness of his shoulders and arms showed evidence of long years of labor. According to the records, he had been the slave of Marzu's metalsmith.

“So you’ve been trained in the craft,” Arlong said as he glanced over the papers before him. “And regardless of the recent… upheaval, there will always be a need for skilled labor.” It was just as true in the Conomi Islands, and Arlong had never hesitated to exploit that… and it would be no different here on Marzu. “You are a free man now… and free to take everything that once belonged to your former master. Hmm?”

Fer offered him a hesitant smile. Arlong gave him a level stare. “It would be a shame to let all that training and skill go to waste. Besides, now you’re in charge of your labor. You’re pretty well-set if you choose to remain on Marzu.”

Most of the former human slaves had been born and raised here on Marzu, and Fer was no exception, having been sold into slavery after his mother died and his stepfather didn’t want the burden of raising him. Arlong could see the indecision in Fer’s eyes, and he smirked to himself.

"You have time to decide… but in the meantime, I require a favor from you. A small token in exchange for your liberation."

“Ah,” Fer murmured, and the two men stared at one another in mutual understanding. “Ask it of me, and it shall be yours.”

Arlong grinned and beckoned him forward, showing him a piece of paper with a drawing on it, and explaining what he wanted. Fer stroked his beard thoughtfully and nodded. The sharkman let him take the drawing, and he turned to the next human in line.

Lunchtime came around, and Arlong licked his lips at the prime cuts of beef that Hachi had grilled for him. He'd been eating like a king the last few days, his fishmen raiding the pantries and cellars of the villas, coming across all sorts of high-end alcohols and rare food items. Back in his childhood in the Fishman District, Arlong's wildest imaginings had never offered food quite this good. His travels across this side of the world allowed him to experience a wide variety of foods that were either expensive to import or simply not available in the Ryugu Kingdom. His sharp teeth tore through the meat, feeling it calm his hunger.

He grinned as he saw Yolande walk through the courtyard, nodding to a few fishmen as she passed them. “Have you eaten?” he asked. She looked down at the platter of roast meat in front of him and nodded. He beckoned her closer, and she came around the side of the table. He touched her chin, tilting her face. “Have you been getting enough rest?” he asked. She shrugged.

“There’s plenty to do.”

He tutted gently. She wasn’t wrong, there was plenty to do… but he had plenty of fishmen to take care of such matters. “You’ve done your part here. No one here questions the quality of your work,” he said with a grin as he remembered how the wall crumbled under the force of several well-placed explosives. On occasion, the scent of ashes and smoke rode on the breeze. Whatever the fuck Yolande did with her chemicals, the results more than spoke for themselves. Fire and water power… quite a potent combination.

“But, Arlong…”

He squeezed her chin. He could imagine what she might have to say or ask… after all, she didn't go anywhere without being under the watch of at least one fishman. He knew she spent a fair amount of time around the former slaves, human or fishman or otherwise, cultivating acquaintanceships of her own. She was fitting in, fine. Helping others be cooperative. Great. But he was the captain and the one in charge. Whatever freedom she enjoyed was because of him.

"You share my bed, but not my captaincy," Arlong said. Her eyes widened as she stared at him, and he felt her stiffen. "And as your captain, I am ordering you to rest. You need it. Chew! Take her to the bedroom, and make sure she takes something to help her sleep. My little chemist has been so busy lately, see the shadows under her eyes!" Arlong tutted. Chew came forward, lightly grasping her upper arm. "And we have a big night tonight… I want you bright-eyed and well-rested." He let go of her chin as she glared at him.

The rest of the day passed by with minor incidents, and Arlong grinned to himself as he thought about tonight's events. When the time approached, he climbed the grand, curving staircase and went down the lavishly-decorated hallway, passing by a fishman guard as he entered the master bedroom that he had taken as his own for the time being. Yolande was curled up loosely on the bed, still in her street clothing, a t-shirt and canvas shorts.

Experimentally, he shook her shoulder, gratified to hear a moan. “My sweet siren,” he purred, rolling her onto her back as he looked down at her.

“Mmmm?” She lifted a hand to rub her eyes as she looked up at him before looking around the room for a moment. His hand slid to her knee before moving to her thigh, squeezing it through her shorts. Her hand fluttered to his, but she did not push him away.

“Before we go out, I’m hungry for a treat,” he said with a purr. She offered no resistance when he tugged her shorts and panties down. His hand found the warmth he was so familiar with, and he felt her thighs shudder around him.

He pinned her hands above her head, holding her slender wrists in one of his large hands. He could feel her squirm against his hold, but his grip was inexorable, and a soft moan met his ears as he worked his other hand down below, thumb circling her clit as a finger dipped into her. She pressed her lips together, even when he flicked her clit gently, though her hips did lift for a moment.

"Sweet siren. Sing for your captain," he growled softly, and the finger slid into her further. She buried her face against her arm. He wiggled his finger firmly and heard a brief, muffled moan. Another finger joined the first, and he saw her face contort in concentration as she tried her best to maintain her silence.

“So stubborn,” Arlong tutted as he wiggled his fingers, rubbing the spot within her that had her arching against his hand. He maintained the rhythm, seeing her bite her lower lip as she strained against his hands. “Look at me,” he growled.

Her eyelids fluttered, and she peered at him through her eyelashes. He pressed his thumb against her clit, and her eyes squeezed shut again as she shook her head, biting back whatever noise she was about to make.

"Keep your hands where they are," he commanded lowly before relinquishing his grip on her wrists. His hand slid down to her chest, tugging the hem of her shirt up under her arms. He positioned his hand on her solar plexus, covering her breasts, his palm across one tit and his fingers on the other. With carefully measured pressure, he rubbed her breasts under his hand, kneading both of them at the same time, and her eyelids fluttered open again, her eyes looking almost luminous under the lamplight.

He could tell that her efforts to maintain her silence were becoming increasingly difficult, and he regarded her with a knowing smile as her fingers flexed and curled while she struggled to maintain her composure. He kept up the steady massage on her breasts as he worked her aching cunt with his fingers and thumb, feeling her squirm.

She pressed her hips against his hand, chasing her orgasm, but he kept his rhythm just slow enough to keep her from going over, smirking at her increasing frustration.

“Sing for me, siren. Tell me how much you need me. How much you ache for the mighty Arlong the Saw.”

“Damn you,” came out a barely audible hiss. He tutted at her, maintaining the teasing touches. He pinched her nipple between his index and middle finger as he continued to massage her breasts, enjoying the fact that he could fit both of them in his hand. He almost didn’t hear it at first, but a soft whimper met his ears as he teasingly massaged her clit.

“I can give you what you need. But I need to hear it.”

“You’re such a bastard,” Yolande moaned, trying to maintain her frown. He merely grinned at her as he noticed her hands twitch, one of them lifting for a moment before dropping back down.

“Call me what you will, but I get things done.” He punctuated that with a firm thrust, and she groaned, arching against him.

“Please, Arlong…”

He nodded at her encouragingly, increasing his pace just a bit.

“Damn you. You’re so infuriating sometimes, Arlong. But you please me so good.”

"Mmm. Yes. Who do you belong to?" He circled her clit with his thumb. She gave him a momentary glare as if to say, Really? When you know the answer so damn well?

“You, Arlong. The mighty Arlong the Saw. My captain Arlong.” She was rocking her hips against his hand now, her chest rising and falling under his other hand.

"See? When I ask you to sing, you get the reward for obeying me," he chided her with a purring rumble as he finally pushed her over the edge. Her hands fluttered to his arm as he gave her breasts a few final rubs and squeezes as she rode out her orgasm. Fuck, but she did have some nice tits. They weren't big but had just enough softness to make it satisfying for him to cup or squeeze them.

“Even when you’re being a bastard, you’re still sexy as fuck,” she said with a small pout.

“Let’s see how many more notes you can hit for me, sweet one.” He shifted around as he tugged open the gold-studded belt that held up his shorts, one of his claspers springing free.

“Tell me how much you need my cock,” he growled softly, grasping it and stroking it in front of her, reveling in the open want he saw in her gaze.

“Nothing satisfies me like your cock. You truly prove the superiority of the fishman race… I ache for you. Please, fill me up, captain…”

He slid into her, feeling the familiar, sweet clench as she welcomed him. She made a few token efforts at first to muffle the sounds she made, but as he thrust into her harder, tangling his fingers into her hair, her efforts shifted to responding to him rather than resisting the urge to make too much noise. A short shriek burst from her as he sped up the pace, and he felt her nails dig into his sides and back as he rode her.

When he finished, he wiped himself with a corner of the sheet before tucking himself back into his shorts as he looked down at her. He had plenty more passion, but he was sated for now.

“I picked out some things for you to wear, my pretty siren. Come on out when you’re cleaned up.” He gestured to the items he’d left on the end of the bed before he went out to join his nakama.

o0o0o0o

Yolande emerged in a blue-black qipao that was lavishly embroidered in gold thread, and in her hair, around her neck, and on her arms were garnets, rubies, and diamonds set in gold, all of it having come from the same jewelry set. There was also a pair of earrings, but Yolande didn’t have pierced ears. She was wearing a pair of high-heeled sandals, which was another experience for her since heels were not something she normally wore because of how tall she already was.

Fuck, she thought to herself as she stepped carefully to maintain her balance. How the hell did women do this every day? At least they weren’t stilettos.

"There's my pretty siren," Arlong called out, looking every bit the captain he was in the gold-trimmed black captain's coat he was wearing. The lining of the coat was a deep red, and the yellow on his shirt provided a nice contrast to the coat and his dark blue shorts. And he was not the only one sporting something new. Many of the fishmen were wearing new articles of clothing if not whole new outfits, and she saw plenty of gold and jewels on the ears, arms, necks, and otherwise of the fishmen that surrounded her and Arlong. The White Mermaid had some nice things among the luggage of Aiuchi’s clients, but that was nothing compared to the wealth an entire island had to offer.

“No one has ever given me anything so nice,” Yolande said self-consciously as Arlong’s hand slid to her hip.

“You earned every bit of that,” Arlong said with a grin. “And it looks good on you. Turn around,” he commanded. She blushed a little but did as he asked. “Mmm. A prize worthy of the mighty Arlong the Saw,” he rumbled, eyeing her hungrily.

“You’re quite the sight yourself, Captain Arlong,” she remarked, reaching out to touch the gold epaulet on his shoulder. She leaned down. “Perhaps, when we… retire for the night, you’ll leave that coat on when you start things off, hmm?” she said in a heated whisper.

“Since you asked so nicely, I will consider it.” He squeezed her hip again before his hand slid along her back and ass, the smooth fabric making it a pleasant experience for both of them. She wiggled against the hand, and he rewarded her with a squeeze.

“Do you mind if I grab something to eat?” she asked.

“Don’t wander too far,” came the reply. She almost rolled her eyes at that but gave him a good-natured smile before going to the buffet table. Arlong and his crew were far from the first to ever raid an island. She’d heard stories of pirates attacking islands and taking the locals as slaves or killing them, or simply stripping them of whatever valuables they owned – or everything they owned.

But here, everybody – well, almost everybody – ate well. The freed slaves had access to the food they grew and prepared for the island. The fishmen for the most part left them alone, so despite the distaste she knew some of the fishmen had for humans, peace was maintained between the several groups that held control of the island in a delicate balance. On the one hand were the freed slaves and their supporters, most of them lifelong residents and having the advantage of numbers and the home advantage. On the other hand were the fishmen – Arlong’s crew and the freed fishmen – who had strength and experience, but were dwarfed in terms of numbers, and as pretty much everyone on the island knew, a fishman could be enslaved as a human was, regardless of their physical advantages.

And then a third but much smaller group, the Minks and several other exotics, as well as a few humans who had been transported here. Many of them had not seen their homes in years if not decades. Arlong said they were free to go, but in the meantime, things were still being worked out, and the island was on lockdown, no ships permitted to leave. A handful of masters had tried to escape, but the rearranged sea mines made short work of that.

She saw a fishman tugging at the chain that was attached to the collar of one of the former masters, a rotund but hale-looking blonde man. Well, Bort didn’t look quite as hale now, but he was still rosy-cheeked. Unlike some of the other former masters, he’d been quite cooperative, sure, he’d whined a little and sometimes he’d make a face, but he was a fair hand at obeying orders and getting used to the new way of things.

Even if Bort's only motive was to avoid a beating, it was working out reasonably for him, wasn't it? So now he carried a tray full of finger foods, offering it to the fishmen he passed. She took an egg roll from it and munched on it as she saw fishmen mill around, drinking and gambling. The villa came with a tennis court, and several fishmen had taken interest in it, laughing and hitting the ball back and forth. Arlong had lamented that there was no good-sized pool up here, but there was a jacuzzi and several ponds. Chew and several other fishmen were drinking and telling jokes while they sat in the jacuzzi. A former master was chained here too, being used to mix drinks for the Chew and his companions or to fetch them towels or anything else the fishmen might want.

Compared to her life a mere season ago, this was pretty surreal. She was adorned in a small fortune of gold and gems, warming the bed of a sharkman pirate and helping him to take over an island and using some of the residents of that island as slaves.

But it wasn’t as black and white as such a short summary would suggest. She took a glass of wine from a passing tray, relishing the high-quality alcohol. With prizes like this, she had to admit that she could see why the pirate life could be so alluring. But what was less mentioned was the risks. She touched her shoulder where she’d been attacked by Spike. It still gave her some trouble sometimes because it was a deep injury she was still healing from. But that almost felt like nothing compared to the fishmen who’d died.

o0o0o0o

Elania Mukachin stood there dutifully as Bebe finished chewing her food. The gnarled old fishwoman sat in one of the lawn chairs in the nicest thing she’d worn in her entire life.

Bebe had been a fixture in her father’s house for as long as she could remember, cooking the meals for the family. Her record showed that she’d been kidnapped as a child and brought here, many decades ago. She’d shown skill in the kitchen, so was installed as the household chef. So it’d been since before Elania was born, and even after she married Omald, she’d had Bebe cook for her in-laws.

She remembered going into the kitchen as a child and asking Bebe to make snacks or sweets for her. Bebe, I'm hungry, make me some cherry crepes. I want butternut squash soup. Hot chocolate. Sushi. Daifuku. And so on. And when Bebe started showing her age, Elania thought about how nice it would be to have another fishwoman chef, one that could cook for her, her children, and her grandchildren. Bebe could train the new girl and get the help around the kitchen she needed.

Now here she was, feeding Bebe so that the old fishwoman didn’t have to worry about handling the chopsticks or other utensils with her arthritic hands. And anytime Bebe wanted a massage, Elania had to give it to her – at least the little fishwoman was easier to tend to than the fearsome fishman captain. Even if Bebe could get quite acerbic. Decades of obeisance was simply a polished veneer for the resentment and rage that bubbled up inside. Some slaves tried to escape, and Bebe had been one of them, although it’d happened before Elania was born. A tendon in her leg was severed to give Bebe a limp so she couldn’t run. After all, as Elania’s grandfather had remarked, what did a chef need to run for?

Little Elania had accepted that as fact, but now many years later, after a month of being ground under the heel of angry and resentful fishmen pirates, she was feeling the burden of her sins – and those of her ancestors. So when Bebe insulted her and her family, heaping long-held scorn on her, all Elania could do was bow her head and submit while echoing the same language that the masters had inculcated into their former slaves. As you wish, mistress. Yes, I am inferior and deserve to be collared. Serving you is the noblest thing one such as myself could do. Would you like another bite or some more wine? Do your feet hurt? Is there anything I can get for you, Bebe?

o0o0o0o

Yurie laughed as Shioyaki rose from the table, stuffing the money he’d just won into his pockets. It reminded her of when she’d watched her father and his crew play cards, drinking and telling jokes. Sometimes she’d play with them, and she’d done so earlier with some of the fishmen, but she was content to watch Shioyaki now. It was nice to bask in the nostalgia, and also the fact that she was finally fucking free. It’d been several days, but it still almost felt like a dream. She had been determined to escape the island somehow, but she had to admit that as the years passed by, there had been dark moments she wondered if she’d die on this damn island, the memory of her father and his crew dying with her.

Her father had warned her often enough of the injustices of this world, but it’d been a crushing experience nonetheless to lose the only family she’d ever known and to be foisted into the service of a human family where the mistress had been condescending enough to tell her to think of the children as her new family and to guard them as she would her own when she’d been assigned to the role of carer for a pack of spoiled brats.

She let Shioyaki lead her away, and the chatter faded behind them as they took a walk, holding glasses of alcohol and enjoying the cool night air. It was fun to listen to Shioyaki tell her about the Ryugu Kingdom and the history of the proud fishman race and the might of the Arlong Pirates. When he wasn’t otherwise occupied with duties for Arlong, he frequently sought her out, and she welcomed his company.

Some of the villas had been burned down completely, but the remainder was intact, as well as much of the gardens and orchards, so despite the sight of wreckage, it was still a pleasant walk. She reached up her hand to touch her neck like she did sometimes, luxuriating in the feel of bare skin. She'd worn the collar for so long that she'd almost forgotten what not wearing one felt like.

The wall that surrounded the villas could be walked on, so they climbed up and enjoyed the view of the island. Several other fishmen were up here, either to enjoy the view like them, or to stand guard. On one side, they could see the bonfires of Arlong’s party. On the other, a quarter moon shone over a placid sea.

"I was pretty lucky at cards tonight. I wonder if there's more luck coming my way…" Shioyaki said, a flirtatious edge to his voice. He'd been a gentleman thus far, but there was no denying that he wanted her. He was patient with her because she was newly freed and had a lot to process, like the other freed slaves, some more than others.

She was now able to do whatever she wanted. She could take a break from helping the Arlong Pirates when she needed to. She could eat whenever and whatever she wanted, and she no longer had to wear the stupid domestic uniform that the household slaves had worn. How good it had felt to plunder the wardrobe of her former mistress and her eldest daughter, claiming several fine items along with a gold bracelet that reminded her of one her father had. And she could also spend time with whoever suited her.

Yurie would be lying to herself if she said she didn't reciprocate at least some of Shioyaki's interest. He was cute and charming and had good taste in shirts.

“… Maybe a little bit,” Yurie conceded. He smirked at that.

“And what does that mean?” he whispered. She tapped her chin thoughtfully.

“A kiss?” she asked. As his eyes lit up, she stopped herself from grinning too widely. “Here,” she said, tapping her cheek. He raised an eyebrow but graciously accepted, wiping his lips before pressing them to her cheek. She felt her heart flutter, and she had to stop herself from inhaling too sharply. She could smell his cologne, mixed with seawater.

“...And here,” she whispered, tapping the spot behind her ear, her wavy blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail. He obliged, and her eyelids fluttered in enjoyment. She was playing with fire, and she knew it. But damnit, she had needs. His hand slid to her side, where it remained. She was comforted by the strength of it.

“Got a little more luck for me?” he breathed against her ear as she felt his chest against her back. Mmh. If she played her cards right, she just might be the one who got lucky.

She reached down to the hand that was on her side and slid it down her hip. "If you're going to get handsy… you may as well put that hand to good use."

There was no mistaking the eager gleam in his eyes, and she made good use of the hand – and mouth – of the mighty Shioyaki of the Arlong Pirates. It was hard to not feel prideful of that, especially after being bossed around and used by others for years. Not that she was an asshole about it, though. She treated him with a firm hand but was quick to learn that he listened well with praises and strokes of his ego. How good he could make her feel. How strong and bad-ass he was. How a fishman was so much better than a human. And though it was meant to stroke his ego, she also meant it.

She moaned softly as his hand ground against her, the waves crashing near their feet as he pleasured her on the beach, hidden from view by a rocky outcrop. His lips pressed against her chest, and she had her arm hooked around his shoulders, holding him close and loving the feel of his strong body wrapped around hers.

o0o0o0o

Mido laid back on the cushions as he looked up at Caten’s bouncing tits while she rode him, clenching around him hungrily as she ground herself on him. Behind her, Ishidai was kissing along her shoulders and back, grinding his cock against the small of her back and her ass while he reached around with one hand to massage her breast and side.

Like a few other members of the Arlong Pirates, Mido had been enslaved by humans, though he'd managed to escape by using his appearance to his advantage. Even as a kid he was rotund-looking, and people dismissed him as one of these big-but-stupid types. He used this to his advantage around humans, letting them think he was stupid, and lulling them into complacency while observing their weaknesses.

Arlong knew better though, and while Mido wasn’t in the Big Three, he still enjoyed considerable seniority on the crew and back in the days of Arlong Park, was good at collecting tribute and keeping the humans in line. Like the humans from before, the Conomi Islanders thought he was big and dumb like an ox, and he let them believe that, reporting back to Arlong whatever he observed and heard. Despite their perception of him, he was intimidating enough due to his size alone that few of them were inclined to give him any trouble, so life at Arlong Park had been relatively easy. He was glad for that after the hardships he’d endured as a poor child and the years of his youth spent in slavery.

He gave out a sharp groan, fingers digging into Caten’s hips and thighs as he came into her. She moved her hips in a slow, tight circle, and Mido nodded approvingly, panting as he came down from his climax, feeling the sweet clench of her insides as she drew out his pleasure.

Like Arlong, Caten saw more of him than most other people cared to see. So they'd gotten to talking and flirting, and Mido had to admit, it was nice having a girl around because Arlong Park had been pretty much a sausage fest. Especially when it was a girl who liked him! There had been some anxiety when Ishidai took interest in her and Caten reciprocated, but they'd worked things out nicely, and Mido was relieved to not conflict with his longtime nakama and comrade.

The catfishwoman leaned back against Ishidai's chest as he peppered the sides of her face with kisses. Mido was content to lie there and watch the little show, feeling his cock twitch as Caten turned her head to kiss Ishidai on the lips. Mido let his hands rub along Caten's hips and thighs while Ishidai ran his hands along her chest and stomach. Mido smiled to himself as he heard the pleased hum that came from her throat at all the rubbing.

Finally, she disengaged from him, flopping down at his side and resting her head against a cushion. "Ah, this is the life," Caten purred as she stretched out, looking at Mido before beckoning to Ishidai, who was only too happy to climb on top of her. The larger fishman rolled out of bed to grab one of the bottles of wine that had been claimed from the cellar of this posh house. The former masters of Marzu had lived well, and the plunder was good.

He took several gulps of the bottle and stood there, relaxing as he watched Ishidai and Caten. He hadn’t expected it to happen, but there was a certain sort of pleasure in watching Caten play with Ishidai or Erhu. Noting the symphony of expressions on Caten’s face, or even Ishidai’s. Watching the flex of muscles, of turgid, aching flesh disappearing into hot, slick flesh.

As if aware of his thoughts, Caten looked over Ishidai’s shoulder, giving Mido a grin. He smirked back and finished the bottle before getting back on the bed, reaching out to caress Caten’s face. She happily kissed and nuzzled his hand, playfully biting it a couple of times as Ishidai plowed into her.

Caten sighed happily as she lay between the two fishmen, nursing the wine Mido had just given her. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve decided I want to be a pirate,” she said.

Ishidai had hinted at it to her. Some of the fishmen rescued from Aiuchi had chosen to disembark on Dreamsicle and find their way home or elsewhere. The others remained under Arlong's protection, several had already openly declared their commitment to the crew. Caten and the remaining ones had not decided either way so far and Mido knew he would miss her if she decided to go.

Swearing allegiance to a crew and its captain was a serious commitment though, so Mido knew this wasn’t something to push her into.

“That’s joyous news, indeed,” Ishisai said with a pleased chortle. “Was it the sex that decided it for you?” he teased.

“Actually… no,” Caten replied cheekily. Her gray-blue dappled skin looked silvery in the moonlight that filtered through the window. “But I’ll admit it helped…” she added with a deliberately casual drawl.

“Shall we continue helping, then?” Ishidai asked as he kissed along her stomach.

“I’ll take all the help I can get,” she shot back, and they shared a good laugh over that. Help, indeed...

o0o0o0o

Arlong smirked to himself and bobbed his head in sync with the music Pisaro was playing on the piano. The instrument had been crafted for someone with narrower fingers, but the musically-inclined fishman was fascinated by it and had asked for it to be his cut of the booty. Arlong was happy to let him have it, especially after he’d reasonably mastered the former Lord Mukachin’s violin.

Arlong had come across him in the Fishman District, singing and dancing for coins so he could buy his food. The sharkboy had been entertained by him, and offered him a place on his growing crew. The rest, as they said, was history – it was Pisaro who’d pointed out Bellemere’s house outside of the village because of the smoke when Arlong believed the tribute collection was complete.

Yolande approached him, the gems on her sparkling like drops of blood and fire, and he felt his flesh stir as she closed in on him after he beckoned her. With ease, she slid into his lap and made herself comfortable.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?” he asked in a deep rumble.

“I crave shark cock?” she quipped. He threw his head back and roared in laughter. She really did look magnificent. When he’d claimed her, all she had were clothes suited for warmth and practicality, many of them well-worn. It wasn’t as if he could go shopping for items that suited his tastes better, so once he had the opportunity, he seized it, filling a chest with jewels and clothes from the wardrobes of the former mistresses of Marzu Island. She was his siren, and it was damn time she was outfitted like one.

His hand snaked around her middle before cupping a breast, his thumb rubbing the nipple through the fine material. He heard a soft sigh as she relaxed against him, nestling her head against his shoulder as she sipped her wine. A bonfire danced cheerfully, several skewers of meat propped over it while trays with various finger foods moved around to ensure that Arlong and his comrades had no shortage of tasty options. The alcohol flowed freely, and he smirked as a fishman walked by with his arms around a sister’s shoulder.

The loss of the Conomi Islands was certainly a bitter pill for Arlong and his men, but a sister provided a handy distraction. He certainly hadn't been opposed to the idea of having women on his crew before, but all-male crews didn't tend to attract many women, especially with the stories of what might happen on long journeys at sea. In such cases, pirates might find distractions amongst themselves, whenever they came to port, or simply deal with the loneliness on their own.

But now he had a siren. He looked down, his sensitive nose registering the pleasant mix of her natural musk, expensive perfume, and on occasion, a touch of smoke mixed with whatever chemicals she might have been using. The rut that had been stirring in him all evening was now rearing its head, especially with his siren in his lap, her pert ass pressing into his thighs and groin. He shifted his hips, making sure she was aware of what was coming.

“How about I ravish you, my little squid?” Arlong asked with a hungry grin as several fishmen nearby chuckled softly. Yolande blushed fiercely at that and tried to glare at Arlong, but her frown turned into a small, amused snort.

“Is that my reward for my help in this?” she asked, waving her hand in the air in a vague gesture, her voice light and flirtatious.

"No," Arlong said with a small laugh. "Your cut of the loot is the reward for your fine work. The ravishment, on the other hand, is your reward for being my sweet siren."

“Well, then… It looks like tonight is going to be quite rewarding, huh? And not just for me...”

This time, when one of the fishmen laughed, she simply looked toward him and blew a raspberry at him. Chew smirked back at her, and she grinned at him before taking a long swig of her drink. He squeezed her tit again.

“Yeah, that’s it, keep doing that,” she whispered before taking another swig of her drink, her gaze moving around, seeing their nakama enjoying themselves.

In due time, he rose from his seat and tossed her over his shoulder. The happy sounds of merry-making faded somewhat as he made his way up the elegant staircase. Humans certainly could design some nice houses… but it was the slaves who built them, wasn’t it?

He was already semi-hard by the time he closed the door behind them, setting her down on the floor, regarding her with a hungry growl. “What’s a handsome fellow like you doing in a place like this?” she asked, echoing some of his earlier words back at him.

He smirked, high off the buzz and the rut as he studied her. “I’m here because I have a craving for some squid… “ He took a step forward, and she danced back.

“And right now, I want that squid to strip for me,” he commanded as he made note of her wiggling hips. He moved past her, keeping his eyes on her as he settled onto the plush divan to enjoy the show, music filtering in from outside to provide a pleasing backdrop. She batted her eyes at him as her long fingers moved up, undoing the buttons of her qipao one by one, the sinuous material sliding down her body to reveal a deep red lacy bralette and a matching pair of panties. His cocks strained against his shorts, and he shifted around in his seat, tugging at the crotch of his shorts as she slowly spun around, letting him enjoy the view. The high-heeled black sandals he’d given her looked pretty damn sexy at the end of her long legs.

“Sweet siren,” he said with a throaty purr. “Dance for me.”

She paused for a moment, staring at him.

“Come now. Just for me?” he asked with a low rumble. “Captain Arlong wants to see his siren dance.”

After another moment, she started swaying her hips, showing an easy grace almost as if she were in the water, spinning around, doing pivots and twists that would have lifted a skirt high. She made her way over to the bed, which was a four-poster, and started gyrating against the pole nearest him.

His eyes widened with delight as she threw her head back, the jewels sparkling under the lights as she folded a leg around the pole. Had Yolande’s dancer friend been a stripper? Shahahaha. He undid his belt and opened his shorts, giving his aching cocks the room to stretch out. Their eyes met for a moment and she smirked before doing a final spin, leaning back as she did so, before she slid onto the bed, panting softly and rosy-cheeked.

He let her catch her breath before he beckoned her over. “See what you do to me,” he said with a pleased rumble, his claspers on full display. She looked down at him with open want, and that sent a fresh ache through his groin. Without a word, she slid her panties down and straddled him, sliding one cock into her receptive heat as she grabbed hold of the other one.

“Ah, yes,” he breathed with delight as he felt the press of her flesh around him, the way she welcomed him. His hands slid to her hips and ass as he looked down at her. She ground herself against him, angling his other cock so that it rubbed against her clit with every thrust, and he smirked at that. Clever little squid.

“Mine,” Arlong breathed with a soft, possessive growl as he placed light nips along her neck and shoulder, inhaling her scent and pressing his lips to her warm flesh. Right now she looked like a mermaid that had just come out of the water to be ravished, smelling of sweetness and the sea, hungry for a fishman to give her the proper attention she deserved.

o0o0o0o

She was no professional, but she’d learned a few moves from her old friend, and she relished the look of open appreciation on Arlong’s face as she swayed her hips for him, running her hands along her body, her jewelry glinting under the lights as she floated along on the buzz that came from good-quality alcohol. That buzz had also given her the courage to climb the pole of the bed, and oh, she could tell that Arlong wanted to pounce on her so badly and was exercising his self-control admirably. Her stretching exercises made her quite limber, affording Arlong quite the view.

She was normally self-conscious of her scars because of how exposed she was, but with Arlong’s hungry eyes upon her, she all but forgot she had it, and twirled around for him without a care in the world, only desire.

As she rode Arlong’s cocks, she would pepper his face with kisses, even running her fingers along his nose a couple of times. She would nuzzle and place open-mouthed kisses along his neck and upper chest, relishing the feel of his sharkskin. His hands were all over her, squeezing, stroking, gripping. “Mine,” he growled hotly into her ear as he nipped the side of her neck, gripping her bouncing ass with one hand.

“Aye, aye, captain,” Yolande murmured, remembering his words from earlier. You share my bed, but not my captaincy. The funny thing was, she wasn't even after his position. She honestly had no interest in it… but that didn't mean she didn't have good advice to offer.

“No one else could ever please you like this, hmm?” Arlong growled softly, pressing down on her hip and grinding himself against her.

“No one,” she affirmed. He could be rough and sharp, but he nonetheless put every other partner she’d ever had to shame. “Only your cock has truly pleased this siren,” she purred.

“Mmm.” His cock twitched, and she groaned and clenched around him as she felt him shoot his load into her. He lifted her hips so that his other cock could take the place of its twin before letting her slide back down. “Who do you belong to, my sweet siren?”

“You, the mighty Arlong the Saw,” she said, playing right along as she moved against him, getting lost in the pleasure of friction down there.

He grinned down at her, careful to keep his nose away from her face as he studied her, the way her eyelids fluttered or the way she'd bite her lip now and then when he gave her a particularly rough thrust. "I need you," she moaned, and he let out a small tut of approval.

“I know you do, my sweet siren. And I will give it all to you.” They eventually moved to the bed, where he got fiercer as he climbed on top of her. Though it eventually came off, he did keep his captain’s coat on for the first couple of rounds, making a quite pleasing sight for her – and something to grab for leverage when he was pounding into her.

“You certainly are proof of the superiority of the fishman race,” she purred into his ear after he climaxed for the last time, slowly grinding his hips against her. The last orgasm had been dry since he’d already cum so much – he really did give it all to her – but the rut was truly a force to behold. She clenched around him, keeping an arm wrapped around his neck, enjoying the languid movements of post-orgasmic bliss. His head rested on the crook of her neck and shoulder, carefully angled so his nose wasn’t touching her. She ran her fingers along his hairline, luxuriating in the feel of the thick if rough black hair. Salt water didn’t exactly do wonders for one’s hair, even though fishmen usually had hair that handled seawater more easily than a human’s.

She’d never seen a fishman in her entire childhood, and had grown up feeling isolated from even her closest friends, wondering about her past and what had brought her here to the shithole that was Mudfog. She knew no more about her past now than she did before… but at least now she was learning about the other half of her heritage. A contented growl rumbled from the sharkman.

“Naturally,” he replied. He wrapped an arm around her.

Yolande stretched her arms over her head as she stirred awake, feeling sore between her legs… and there was soreness in a few other spots too. Damn, but that had been one hell of a night between the drinking and the fucking. Movement drew her eye to Arlong padding softly across the carpet from the bathroom, looking sexy even with his hair a tangled mess. She sat up, biting back a grimace as her muscles strained in protest. She squinted against the morning light as she hugged the sheet around herself. Bloody hell, it’d been a while since she was this hungover.

...She’d still had a bloody great time, though. Her insides ached pleasurably at the memory. Sometimes having a lover with two cocks and fishman strength could be quite overwhelming, but she’d handled herself like a champ.

Arlong slid under the blanket, pulling her into his arms. His hand slid under the sheet, and she flinched when she felt his fingers on her inner thighs.

“No,” she whispered as she looked up at him.

"No?" he echoed softly, a frown starting to appear on his face. He loosened his grip on her and pulled the sheet from her. The wince that flashed across his face drew her eyes downward, where morning light cast a harsh illumination. There were bruises on her arms, waist, and thighs from where he'd grabbed or squeezed her various times through the night, and there was a fresh bite on her hip. He studied her for several moments, and she blushed under his gaze.

“That was… quite the night, wasn’t it?” he finally asked.

“I guess you could say that. I did enjoy myself,” she said, reassuring him and meaning it. “But you get quite hungry sometimes…” She regarded him with a faint smile as he grasped one arm carefully, examining it before running his fingers along the teeth marks on her hip. His gentle touch would have been arousing if she hadn’t been so sore. She blushed as Arlong lifted her knee so he could complete his examination.

“I do. Well, as your captain, I’m commanding you to rest.”

“Aye, aye, captain. I’ll be sure to get all rested up for you,” Yolande replied, glad to take the command this time as she settled back into the bed. He lowered her leg and took her hands into his, peppering kisses along them. He wasn’t usually a kisser, but he did like kissing her hands… possibly because it was one of the easier spots to access given his nose.

She gave a pleased hum as he pressed his lips to her wrists, and she stroked his face as she looked up at him, basking in the morning light. From this angle, she could see the underside of his nose and the sharp shadows cast by the early sun. How the hell did someone get a nose that long, anyway, she occasionally wondered. There were a couple of faint bruises on his shoulder and chest where she'd bitten him, but she knew they'd fade quickly. Lucky bastard. Her bruises would take longer, and the bite, more so.

“Good.” He squeezed her hands, giving her one last affectionate look before he left, and she pulled the blanket over her head, curling up after doing a few brief stretches, wincing at how sore she was. Fucking hell, he’d left her in quite a state. Nonetheless, she’d be craving his cocks again in due time, and they both knew it.

#writing #one piece #arlong #villain gets the girl #fanfiction #arlong pirates #fanart #arlong the saw

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third-arch · 9 months ago

Text

No Surprises-A Trafalgar Law x Reader Fan Fiction

Chapter 8-Part 1-Flower Crown

slight nsfw, fluff, angst, comfort, cussing, trauma, topics/mentions of self-harm, depression, abuse, and suicide

“Captain! We’re finally here!”

The two of you stand before a boundless, quiescent meadow, remarkably similar to the field where you met Corazon. The vivid green blades of grass bend with each gust of wind. Flower petals swirl in the refreshing breeze, while all sorts of multicolored flora bloom underneath the sun. You gaze upwards, studying the giant cotton-like clouds rolling through the big blue sky.

You glance at your Captain. In contrast to your short, white dress, his long, black kimono tightly wrapped around his body, the top half more loose fitting for his tattooed chest to be exposed. His long, brown and gold coat hangs from his shoulders. Your Captain glanced back at you, silently admiring the way your dress twirled and bounced when you moved.

You and your Captain take in the sunshine warming your skin against the cool breeze. You smile, turning towards your Captain,

“It’s so peaceful and beautiful. This is amazing, Captain!” It was strange, almost surreal. The resemblance to the outer lands you would visit in your dreams was certainly impressive. It felt like you were within the bounds of some parallel universe. Corazon was right, this world is beautiful. Strange, yet beautiful.

Your Captain appeared unimpressed. He returned your gaze once more. His eyes were now dull, as he spoke with an unwavering sense of confidence, "I assigned your crewmates to collect intel and plant samples we could use to make medicines. There doesn't seem to be any threats here, so It's safe for you to go alone," Your Captain frowns, narrowing his gaze.

"Is something wrong, Captain? Did I say something?"

He glances at the ground, sighs, and turns away from you.

"Today's your day, Kanna-ya. This is my gift to you. Enjoy it."

Your Captain heads straight for the nearest tree with lots of shade. Small patches of tuft are littered here and there underneath the tree. It looked gloomy and dreary.

"Captain? Wait, where are you going?" You follow him, "I thought you wanted to spend time together." Your Captain pauses and turns his body just enough to see you.

Ever since the two of you had eaten breakfast together, your Captain had seemed distant. Even on his birthday, he stood around the halls. He still felt warm and approachable, but awkward.

Guilt pressed against your Captain's lungs, forcing him to stay quiet.

He was reckless. He acted like a bold and drunken fool last night. He felt like he toyed with your heart that night, toyed with your feelings, toyed with you. The softness of your hands, your gentle whimpers. Your soft cheeks reddening against his restless fingers. Your warm lips.

It was still hazy, but it was real.

All because of your damn smile.

He paused, taking a deep breath in and out,

"I'll be watching you from over here. I brought some things to keep myself busy. Go have fun without me."

You walk closer, gently tugging on his sleeve, "Captain, just this once, please?"

Your Captain frowns down at you, and glances away.

"...Would it really make you happy?"

You nod, "Yes, Captain. It would."

Closing his eyes, your Captain lets out an acquiescent sigh, "Alright, Kanna-ya. You win, let's go."

Your eyes sparkle as he turns to face you, Kikoku firmly grasped in his left hand.

With his other hand, he gently nudges yours,

"Lead the way."

You giggle and grab his hand, pulling your Captain towards the flower field.

You hum as you walk with your Captain across the quiet meadow. “Isn’t this relaxing, Captain? How did you even learn about this place? I would’ve loved coming here.”

“I just thought you’d like it” is all he says.

You hum, a little disappointed by his response.

“That’s it?” you squeeze his hand.

Since your suicide attempt, Law’s sleeping habits had worsened. He knew he had people looking after you, but,

What if you tried again?

What if he didn’t hear you?

Why did he care so much?

He wanted to make sure it never happened again. There wasn’t much he could do, but he just wanted you to be happy.

All it took for him was to touch his chest, tracing the sturdy petals of the hibiscus flowers you gifted him.

He studied all kinds of plants, flowers, even fungus. He wanted to find the perfect gift for you. He planned and replanned over and over, crumpling up pieces of paper and throwing them off his desk.

I’m overthinking this. All of this for one girl. Why do I care so much? It’s stupid.

He frowned. He had spent so much time studying all kinds of flowers he was certain you’d like, just to make you happy?

“What’s that island coming up?” Law pointed to a mark on the screen.

Bepo shrugged. “I don’t know, Captain. Looks like there’s all kinds of plant life growing there. Maybe it would be a place to stock up on medicinal supplies?”

“Perhaps…”

He almost disregarded the island entirely. He was calm and calculated, ready to continue setting sail for the Heart Pirates’ next destination.

And then, he remembered your smile.

It was almost instantaneous, a chemical reaction, an explosion of colors.

“Actually, let’s stop there.”

“Captain?”

“It would be a good idea to see what the island holds, especially if there’s an abundance of flora and vegetation.”

Law walks back up the stairs, as Bepo cheers, “Aye aye, Captain!”

“Why? Are you expecting a surprise or something?”

“Sort of,” you respond.

“Kanna-ya. You don’t need to find a reason for my gift.” he responds, coldly.

Don’t look. It’s stupid. It’s only wishful thinking. This was just a birthday present and nothing more.

“It just felt right,” he answered. He hated lying to you like this, but he was scared. The truth was embarrassing and stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He didn’t-no, he wouldn’t be seen as a fool.

You hum,

“I still really like this, regardless. I wanna come back here again with you, someday.”

“...”

Your Captain lets go of your hand to take off his white furry polar cap, slinging it over the pommel of his blade. He then grabs your hand, gently stroking the back of yours with his thumb.

“Whatever you want.”

You press against each other's hands tighter.

The longer you hold onto one another, the more comfortable you become. Every now and then, you squeeze your Captain’s to communicate.

“Captain! Look! (squeeze)”

“Wait, look at this, Captain (squeeze, squeeze). What do you think it is?”

“Over there! (squeeze) That one is so pretty!”

After some time, your Captain began to, as well.

“(squeeze) Those are called bluebells.” he would respond, calmly,

“Look (squeeze, squeeze). Over here. There’s more of the flower you liked.”

Your eyes eventually wander to a beautiful, gentle pink flower. You walk towards the flower, pulling your Captain along.

Carefully, you let go of his hand. You knelt down and smelled the sweet aroma of the pink flower. Your eyes light up,

“Captain! Come smell this!”

Your Captain knelt close beside you, gently pressing his hand against your lower back. You felt your heart race seeing him this close to you. His dark, raven hair gleamed in the sun. You could smell the cologne from his neck as he leaned forward and inhaled the flowery fragrance, “It’s a carnation.”

You grinned, “You can tell just by smelling them?”

“Huh? No, Silly-ya” Your Captain bonks your head, “I did a lot of research. I knew it was a carnation, I just told you too late.”

You giggle, “I’m just kidding, Captain!”

He smirks, ruffling your hair, “Jeez.”

He caresses the petals with his thumb, “It can symbolize many different things, purity, luck, rejection…” his deep voice became smoother, “I’m pretty sure pink is a symbol of gratitude. It’s a sign of appreciation, or a way of saying, ‘Even when you leave, I promise, I’ll never forget you’”.

Your eyes softened. Pink carnations, huh? You thought about Corazon. Would he remember you once the dreams finally stop? Did your friendship mean anything? You squeeze your eyes shut. You were grateful for him! You didn’t care if he didn’t treasure your time spent together, you were beyond grateful for Corazon.

“Is something on your mind, Kanna-ya?”

“Hm? It’s nothing.” You grab his hand, “Let’s keep exploring!”

“Captain?”

“Hm? What is it? (squeeze)”

“What made you want to be a doctor?”

“My father taught me when I was young. I wanted to be just like him. I studied when I was a child, and kept at it.”

He continued, “When I got my Devil Fruit abilities, I was able to get better and better. I now have the ability to save those I care about and heal them. I became stronger, I suppose,” he pauses,

“...I just can’t afford to lose any more family, the people I care about, the people I love,”

His grip on your hand tightened, “I won’t let it happen. After losing everything, and nearly abandoning all hope, I just wanted to fight again.”

The Surgeon of Death!

He stole the hearts of one hundred pirates to become a Warlord, and he liked it.

I heard he sliced a bunch of kids up on Punk Hazard, he’s ruthless!

He’s a brat. He’s dangerous.

He’s sadistic.

He loves you, Kanna.

“...!”

He’s doing his best.

“...”

I’m sure he saw himself in you and wanted to do the right thing, what others failed him over and over again. He saved you. That’s what captains do!

You turn to face him, and grab his cheeks,

You pull his head forward, nuzzling your face into his hair. It smelled amazing.

“Tch!! O-Oi! Kanna-ya!-“ Your Captain awkwardly hunched over.

“I wish you’d smile more, Captain.” you mumble into his hair, “You’re beautiful when you smile.”

“...!!”

“...” He blushed. “It’s not that easy, Kanna-ya,” He pulls away from you, keeping his grip on your shoulders.

“Also, next time you wanna hug me like that,” he cups his hand over your cheek, “Just warn me.” He bonks your head.

“Alright, Captain. I’m sorry, too. You just look really handsome today.”

“O-oh?”

You smile, warmly, “You’re like a snow leopard!”

“???”

Your Captain laughs, “What’s that supposed to mean!!”

“Captain? (squeeze)”

“You can call me Law today, if you’d like. (squeeze)”

Your eyes widen, “Really?”

He nods, “Only for today, though! (squeeze, squeeze)”

You smile, “Okay, Law!”

Law.exe has stopped working.

“Law! Your face is heating up! Are you okay?” You place your hand over his forehead.

“You’re-”

“Fine, I-I’m fine.” he lied, waving your hand away, “I just need to catch my breath.” He turns away from you. His hand feels hot and clammy.

“Are you sure?”

“Y-Yes!”

“Alright, Law-ya~” you hummed.

Law turns to face you, grabbing both of your hands,

“!! Kanna-ya, I…” he looked at you, tenderly,

“I...”

“...Law?”

Why am I acting this way? What am I doing?

“Nothing, let’s keep going.” he squeezes his eyes shut. He grabs your hand and escorts you across the meadow.

After a few minutes of silence, Law regains his composure. His grip was firm once more, and his sudden and mysterious fever had vanished.

“Law, can you help me gather some flowers to make a flower crown for you?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you!” you laugh, “I’ve wanted to for a long time.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah!”

“Is it a special occasion or something?” He squeezes your hand.

You squeeze it back. “No, I’ve just wanted to make one for someone. My dad taught me to make them when I was younger,”

You continue, “Nobody knows this, but I even made one for Koby before I left to sail with my Dad” You chuckle, “I’m sure he still has it after all these years.”

“Have you heard back from him? (squeeze, squeeze)”

You shake your head, “He’s probably really busy. I’ve been waiting to catch him in the newspaper.”

Your voice becomes sad, “I haven’t seen him in so long. I really miss him. He was actually the one who gave me my flower bandana! It was one of my few saving graces during my time in Dressrosa, since I wasn’t able to contact anyone.”

“He’s so sweet and bright, Law. I really hope you meet him someday.”

“Isn’t he a marine? I don’t think it would be possible,”

“If it’s his sister, he’d make an exception. I know he would (squeeze)”.

Law closes his eyes and smirks. Hearing you talk about your family was charming.

“Primrose…” Law says to himself.

“Law, what do you think about these flowers?” You squat down in front of Law, holding out the flower. Law takes your hand and pulls it closer for inspection.

Law squints at the white flora, “...That looks like a Camellia. It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah!”

As you get up to walk away, you notice a look on Law's face. He seems deep in thought about something.

"Are you okay, Law?"

Law shakes his head, "It's nothing. I've been feeling much more vulnerable today with my emotions. I don't know why, but it feels nice, in a way," Law places his hand over your head,

"I appreciate your concern, though."

"Is this about last night?"

"..."

You place your hand on his shoulder,

"Don't beat yourself up over anything like that, Law. It's dumb."

"Hm?"

You continue, "I won't push you or pry into you. Just know that it's okay to be vulnerable. It's okay to not be serious...ah, I dunno what I'm saying." You laugh.

"I guess, just try to remember," You scoot close to Law, placing the flower into his hands. You guide them and press the white camellia close to his heart,

"You're free and you're human, alright? I'm here for you, always."

Letting go, you turn to walk back towards your set up, "I'll be here! Just yell if you need anything."

Law gazes at the gentle white flora, brushing his fingers along the soft, smooth petals. He brings it close to his nose, smelling the aroma.

A flower of purity and innocence. Selflessness, new beginnings, and true love.

Law's eyes soften. His cheeks were a gentle pink, as his lips formed into a grin,

I took the stars from my eyes, and then I made a map

And knew that somehow I could find my way back

Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too

So I stayed in the darkness with you

I've heard you sing those words before.

Somewhere, deep inside my soul, I realized,

"If that day ever comes, I'll find you."

You won't ever walk alone ever again. I'll hold onto you, so, please live. If not for you, for your family. For your crew.

For me.

As the two of you gather flowers, Law reflects on the past.

The history between the two of you was quite different than that and most of your crew mates. He knew it all too well.

“Heliotrope, petunia, hydrangea, amaryllis, marigold, cosmos, hyacinth, peony, carnation...rose...”

Once his basket was full, he sat back, inspecting his work carefully.

“This should be enough…”

He looked up to find Kanna gently picking flowers from the meadow. His caged heart throbbed against his chest the moment he saw her.

He sighed, trying to release some of the tension in his chest. Yet, he only felt it grow tighter and tighter the longer he gazed at you.

Law was hopeless.

He stood up, Kikoku held close to his shoulder. His polar cap continues to hang loosely around the pommel of his blade allowing his dark, raven hair to shine in the sun.

"Oi, Kanna-ya! Are you finished?"

"Yeah, and what about you?" he responded, plainly.

"Yeah!" You walked over to him.

"Well then, let's go. We don't have all day."

He tried to appear quiet and unbothered. Yet, despite his best efforts, Law’s eyes couldn’t help but soften the closer you approached. He could feel a soft blush warming his cheeks.

"Alright,"

You reach for Law’s hand and gently intertwine your fingers together with his.

"I promise you're gonna love it, Law!"

Law absentmindedly began to brush small circles with his thumb against the backside of your hand.

"You know I'll love it either way, right?" he smiled. His warm grip remained firm and protective.

You leaned in and nuzzled your cheek against his hairy arms,

"Yeah, I know."

He smirked, leaning his head forward and whispered,

"Especially when it's from you."

“!!”

You pull your head back, looking down at the grass as the two of you continue to walk.

You could feel your heart thundering against your chest.

Something about him, the way he spoke, the way he carried himself, his sweetness, made you nervous.

Had things always been this way when you were around him?

Has he always joked with you this much?

“Oi,”

“Hm?”

Law chuckled, giving your hand a playful squeeze.

“What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong?” he teased.

“...No, it’s nothing” you respond quietly.

“Well, those cheeks of yours say otherwise,” he responds smoothly.

“Hey!” you smile, hiding your nervousness, “You’re blushing too!”

“Hm, I guess we’re both guilty, huh?”

The two of you laugh, your hands clinging to one another as you walk.

Have you always liked it this much?

“What started your interest in plants, Kanna-ya?”

“Oh! Hmm,” You pause, “I don’t really know, honestly.”

“I think the longer I was at sea, I just found myself loving plant life more and more. It’s really strange, but that’s what I think, at least.”

You continue, “When I was little, too, me and my mom did a lot of gardening work together. So I think I just really missed it.”

Law grinned, “That’s sweet, Kanna-ya.”

You smiled into your lap.

“What’s your favorite plant, Law?”

“Mine? Hm…” Law paused,

“There’s a flower called Epiphyllum oxypetalum. A lot of people call it the Queen of the Night.”

He continued, “It’s a species of cactus that only blooms at night and wilts at sunrise. It also has some beneficial medicinal purposes for respiratory issues, bleeding, pain and inflammation.”

“I didn’t know you were that much of a plant kinda guy, Law.” you said.

“What makes you think that? I’d have to know about plants to some degree. I’m a doctor. Plus, humans share a lot of similar biological traits with plants.”

“Well I know, and I guess if it’s used for medicine. I don’t know,”

You look back and continue preparing the flowers,

“Lots of plants have ingredients that are used in medicine. Even flowers. As my medical assistant, you should know this.” He gently bonks your head.

“Well yeah! I know but, I guess it’s just out of nowhere. I like learning about you…but, what made you wanna talk about it?”

“It’s my favorite flower.” he casually responded, his hand resting under his cheek. Your heart raced once you saw how fondly Law was gazing at you. “Remember?”

You nod, blushing.

Law chuckles,

“There are lots of beautiful flowers out there. Some are much prettier than the Queen of the Night,” he said,

“But, I think the one in front of me is the prettiest.”

You look at your captain with widened eyes. His cheeks are burning red. He smirks at you.

“Heh, is something wrong, Kanna-ya?” he scoots closer to you.

You look away from him and shake your head.

He chuckles and ruffles your hair softly,

“Silly-ya~”

“Hey!” You laugh, ruffling his hair back, “You’re teasing me!”

The two of you tumble over together, playfully wrestling with one another. The two of you lay side by side, breathless from laughter. Law pulls you in, tightly wrapping his arms around your stomach.

“Kanna-ya. I don’t know what you’ve done to me. But everytime you say my name, all of my worries just disappear.” He scoots closer, his lips grazing the back of your neck,

“My heart aches, my world stops, I feel dizzy,” He pauses, “Am I…”

He pauses again, his breath slightly trembling, “Do you feel these things, too?”

You roll over to face him. You study his face, brushing your hand against his cheek. He reaches to hold it, placing his hand over yours.

“I may not feel as nervous as you, but I feel really happy. My chest fills with butterflies when you say my name. I-ah-It’s different when Bepo, or Shachi, or Zoro say my name. But I feel…it feels right when you do. I like it when it’s you.”

You glance at Law and blush. You pull back your hands and cover your face,

“I don’t know what I’m saying. It’s just stupid, I dunno. My heart just swells when I see you,” You groan “I don’t know anymore…”

“Kanna-ya,”

You uncover your face to look at Law,

Your cheeks felt hot.

“Hi,” you whispered, nervously.

“Oi,” he responds, gently.

You take your hand and carefully rest it on his chest. It’s warm. He’s nervous.

You feel his hand brush your cheek, holding it and caressing the softness. He slowly moves his thumb to your lips, gently stroking the plushness of your bottom lip.

“You’re trembling, Kanna-ya,”

“So are you,”

Law leans in, tilting your chin up to face him,

You confuse the hell out of me, Kanna-ya.

He kissed you. He couldn’t take it any longer. He pressed his hand against your lower back and the back of your neck, and pulled you in.

“Mmmnn..”

He was sweet, yet affectionate. Your fingers traced along his chest, following the radiant black ink of his heart tattoo.

You wanted to tangle your hands in his hair so badly, you wanted to tangle your legs together, but you were trembling. You were so nervous.

Yet, you loved how kind Law was to you. His kisses were the best. They felt pure and genuine. You felt welcomed to be this intimate with Law.

His lips tasted like sweet honey and lemon. Short, hot breaths and soft moans escaped your lips. Law’s gentle groans would vibrate against your mouth, setting your heart ablaze.

You melted further into his embrace the longer he kissed you. Every now and then, Law would gently lick your lower lips, tasting the sweetness of your strawberry flavored lip balm. He loved it.

As the kiss went on, he began to lick more. His tongue would push against your lips as your hands explored his chest.

Finally, you parted your lips, allowing your tongues to explore each other. His tongue dominated yours, exploring every crevasse of your mouth. The moment you tried pressing your tongue into his mouth, he sucked, pulling your tongue in.

“Mmmnn..!!”

You could feel his lips press further against yours, as he shifted his arms.

His hand roamed to your hip, his thumb rubbing small circles into the soft fabric of your dress. He wanted to touch you more, but he was scared. He wouldn't stop overthinking.

He softly moaned your name against your cheek. Law grabbed your thigh, caressing it and pulling it closer to his side. His other hand held your chin tilted up towards his lips.

I want to hear it again.

He pulled away from you, his eyelids half open. His breath was shaky, as he tenderly brushed your cheek with his thumb. Your cheeks were flushed. A thin string of saliva kept your lips connected.

“Your eyes are beautiful, Law,” you panted,

Just one more time…

He carefully climbed on top of you. He grabbed your cheeks and pulled you in for more.

“And your eyes are beautiful, too, silly girl,”

Your hands interlaced.

After one slow, passionate kiss, his kisses traveled down to your neck.

"I love you."

Huh?

A gentle moan escapes Law's lips.

...Did I hear that right?

Song Credits!!

[Song title (Artist, Year Released)]

Cosmic Love (Florence + the Machine, 2009)

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