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kazoosandfannypacks · 1 year

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"Open to Interpretation" by kazoosandfannypacks

Chapter 5/16: Perks of Being a VIP Pairing: CaptainSwan Rating: General Word Count: (1.8K/24K) Summary: Emma Swan is appalled at works by modern artist Killian Jones- until a handsome stranger convinces her otherwise- and after introducing himself as the artist in question, he invites her out on a date. As their relationship develops, they find that they might not be as different from each other as originally thought. Chapter Summary: Emma and Killian arrive at the dinner and mingle with some of the guests Tags: au, fluff, captain swan, modern au Author's notes: A lot of my fics are third person limited perspective, and my chapters often jump back and forth between whose limited perspective we're looking at in each section. As you read this fic, you may notice that my chapters themselves take turns with the perspective- Emma's perspective in chapter 1, Killian's in chapter 2, Emma's in chapter 3, ext. This was an intentional decision and challenge on my part, and I thought it felt a little more polished that way- but it also means that I've often spread spans of a few hours in the fic across multiple chapters. Taglist: @zahara @kmomof4 @jonesfandomfanatic @booksteaandtoomuchtv @jrob64 @tiganasummertree @anmylica @teamhook @undercaffinatednightmare @gingerchangeling @lonelyspectator @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @cs-rylie @pirateprincessofpizza [if you'd like to be added to or removed from this list, hmu in my dms or askbox!]

Also on Ao3!

"Let me get the door for you," Killian said as he parked the car outside the museum.

"He doesn't have to do that," Emma thought, though she wasn't about to stop him.

Her door opened, and he held out a hand to help her out of the car.

"This is certainly a better parking spot than I got the other day," Emma took his hand and got out of the car.

"Perks of being a V.I.P.," Killian said, holding up his lanyard badge. He then stuck his elbow out to her, and she tucked her arm around it and entered the museum on his arm.

"Now remember," he leaned towards her and said, "a lot of the people here are gonna be pretentious little snobs- and most of them won't take a shine to your criticism like I did."

"I'll be diplomatic," Emma nodded.

"I'd appreciate that," he said.

They walked down brightly lit hallways to the museum's reception hall, Killian once or twice pointing out some painting they passed by and some bit of trivia he knew about the art, or about its artist or the story behind the piece.

"Do they have you as a tour guide as well in your spare time?" Emma teased.

"Sometimes when I need inspiration I roam the hallways looking for it," Killian said, "hoping that something I'll see will inspire me- and it is part of the job to be a bit familiar with the rest of the pieces in the museum as well."

Emma nodded, "What else does an artist in residence even do?"

"Promote different events the museum is hosting," he said, "hang out around the galleries in my free time- something about the chance to meet the artist often draws people in. And, most notably, I'm to work on a mural for the museum."

"And what do you get out of that deal?" "They pay for room and board," he said, "not to mention a few extra grand a month for other expenses, access to whatever supplies I find myself needing for their commissioned painting- and, of course, an extra boost in publicity and the chance to add 'artist in residence' to my portfolio and resume."

"So let me get this straight," Emma asked, "you get paid to do what you love and the museum gets publicity because they're letting you freeload?"

He nodded and smiled, "an artist's life is one to love."

"Imagine what I could do with a setup like that," Emma thought. Though she loved art, she seldom had the time and energy to sit down and paint something while still working forty hours a week and keeping up with housework and her other hobbies. Sure, she didn't ever consider going professional with her art, but she wouldn't mind getting paid to sit around painting whenever the muse struck her. As it stood, she'd scarcely had time to make headway on the painting she'd started a few days ago.

Once they got to the reception hall, Emma noticed that quite a few people had already arrived, and Killian began introducing himself and Emma to each of them, following a pretty simple formula: introducing themselves, mentioning how great it was to meet them, and some comments about the other's line of work peppered with dry humor, before an "excuse me, I need to go welcome this person over here."

Emma met more self-proclaimed "important" people in twenty five minutes than she'd ever met in her life. Mayor Mills was there, along with her business tycoon mother (who Emma was pretty sure helped buy her her votes,) and the elder Mills daughter who was working hard to learn to fill her mother's shoes. Multi-millionaire Adam Gold was also in attendance, along with his associates, Madame Deville and her husband. Among the snobbery as well were a few prestigious doctors, a couple different artists, many of whom Killian seemed to know well, and a few other notable creative minds. Of course, in attendance as well was the curators of the museum, Mr. and Mrs. Nolan- a rather charming couple.

"You're quite the natural," Killian whispered to Emma as they walked away from their twelfth snobbish conversation, this time with Emma interjecting a few clever but tasteful comments of her own.

"I'm learning from the best," Emma smiled.

"Well, don't worry," Killian said, "the next people I introduce you to will be much more charming- Mr. Booth is one of few individuals who make fundraisers like these bearable."

He introduced Emma next to a couple that seemed a bit younger than most of the other attendees, much closer in age to Emma and Killian.

"Mr. Booth," Killian held his hand out to the other man.

"Always a pleasure to see you, Mr. Jones."

Both men seemed to hold a secret in their eyes, a secret which then turned into a sparkle, then a smile, then a laugh.

"August and I go way back," Killian explained to Emma.

"August Booth?" Emma asked, "as in, the author August Booth?" "You're familiar with my works?" he asked.

"Indeed," Emma said, "I deeply enjoyed your Revolutionary Fairy Tales series."

"I'm flattered." August said, "and you are?"

"Emma Swan," she shook his hand, "pleasure to meet someone interesting for a change."

August smiled and addressed Killian, "I like her boldness."

"As do I," Killian said, looking down at Emma and smiling, "we met in my wing of the gallery a couple days ago. Miss Swan was in the middle of insulting some of my masterpieces. I believe the exact words she used were…."

"'If absurdism and modern art had a child in a soulless void?'" Emma offered.

"Ah yes," Killian smiled, "and then something about being tasteless with nothing to communicate."

"But then someone happened along and showed me a new way to look at it," Emma smiled and nudged Killian a little.

"And I figured if there was anyone I could trust to keep me awake through another one of these dinners, it would be her."

"How lovely," the woman standing next to August said.

"Where are my manners?" August asked, "Emma, this is my fiancee, Belle."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Emma said.

"And you as well," Belle said, "I take it this is your first date together?'

"Yeah," Emma smiled.

"And you brought her here?" August asked Killian, seeming almost appalled, "do you want to lose her that quickly?"

"It's a stroke of genius, really," Killian said, "we start with the worst date I can imagine, and then her expectations are so low that the next date seems eight times better."

"And a second chance dinner's on him next week if tonight goes terribly," Emma smiled, "though so far- especially by the graces of present company- it seems to be going pretty well."

"Well, I hope we don't change your mind," August said.

August paused, then turned to Killian, "Unless you're rooting on it going terribly, so you can get a guaranteed second date," he faked a gasp and pretended to be offended, "is that why you introduced her to us? Hoping our raging intellectualism would bore her to death?"

"Quite the opposite," Killian said, "I was hoping your charming personality and clever wit would make up where mine lack."

"Some pretty big shoes to fill there," August said, "but I think we can make it work."

Killian motioned to a nearby table. Each table setting had a name card at it, and Emma quickly noticed Killian's, her own name set next to that, followed by August's, then Belle's.

"V.I.P. table," Killian said, "it pays to be the artist in residence- and friends."

He pulled out Emma's seat for her, and she blushed a little as she sat down and he pushed her chair back in. August did the same for Belle.

"What makes the V.I.P. table better than the others?" Emma asked.

"Closest to the stage," August said, as he sat down.

"And closest to the kitchen," Belle peeked around August at Emma, "so they bring our food out sooner."

"I'm down for that," Emma said.

"Best part of the evening," August said.

"Ah yes," Killian said, leaning on the back of his chair, "because the donations to the Humbert Cardiovascular Fund don't matter nearly as much as if our dinner is brought to us three minutes before anyone else's."

August didn't respond, and neither did Emma, or Belle, or even Killian.

After a brief moment, Killian excused himself. Soon, the lighting in the room dimmed a little, and the rest of the seats at the table were soon filled- Mr. and Mrs. Nolan took the seats next to Killian's, and Doctor Whale and his wife next to them.

"I wonder where Killian went," Emma thought, noting that everyone else was already in their seats and things were about to begin, "this benefit dinner seemed to be pretty important to him."

She then noticed someone stepping onto the stage, and after a moment realized it was Killian, who took a microphone off a nearby stand.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," he said, "I want to thank all of you for coming out here tonight. For those of you who don't know me, my name is Killian Jones, current artist in residence here at the Nolan Blanchard. For those of you who do know me, I'm terribly sorry."

Everyone laughed, even Emma, who was still trying to piece together what was going on.

"After dinner's been served," Killian said, "the curators and I will give a brief word about the Humbert fund that the proceeds from tonight are going to. Until then, allow me to introduce to you tonight's entertainment- Leroy and the Lucky Seven."

Everyone clapped as Killian stepped down from the stage and the band entered from the side wings. Emma didn't take her eyes off Killian though, even noting how he tripped a little as he stepped off the stage.

Once he took his seat next to Emma, she placed her hand on his shoulder, then spoke into his ear in a hushed tone.

"You didn't tell me you were hosting this event."

He turned a little to whisper in her ear. "Hosting, promoting, it's all the same, really."

"You also didn't tell me you were promoting it."

"I didn't think it was 'relevant to the discussion.'" he teased, then twisted away from her a little so he could look her in the eyes, "had I realized it would bother you…."

The band started playing as their eyes met again, something simple and dramatic in both, like the start of falling in love.

"It doesn't." Emma smiled, "I like a little mystery."

"Alright then, Sherlock," he said, playfully tapping her nose.

She smiled and rolled her eyes, then moved her hand off his shoulder, reminding herself where they were, that she was helping him represent the museum tonight, and they couldn't do that if they just sat there ogling over each other all evening. They needed to act professional and maintain some dignified conversation with someone other than each other.

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sillylittlestoryblog · 8 months

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Keeping me warm

Part 2

Trafalgar Law x Reader

Warning: female Reader, use of y/n , Angsty angst, Fluffy Fluff and some suggestive thoughts but nothing wild tho, English is not my first language, so yeah there are some mistakes in this possibly.

Plus I am currently still on my first watch of one piece and am only at Fishman island. So Law isn’t a character I know all to well. So he is more like a mixture out of other ffs descriptions and my own headcanon.

Notes: I never planned on making this second part but because I really am craving more Law in my life and because I got some really nice comments and people asking for a second part, I just had to write a lil something. I really hope you enjoy. And thanks again for all the nice comments. They literally make my day ❤️😭

I am quite shy and rarely comment on posts myself but I m trying to be better with it in the future because honestly sometimes we forget how much some kind words can effect someone. ❤️ thank you all for reading. Have fun.

The first thing you noticed after waking up was the silence. The rumble of thunder and the biting wind could no longer be heard. Tired, you opened your eyes and looked around. Warm rays of light broke through the entrance to the cave. Sleeping pirates in tight embraces lay around you. Your captain had wrapped his stretched arms around as many of them as possible. He was laying next to you in an uncomfortable position on the cold cave floor. Luffy was loudly snoring and mumbling incoherent sentences in his sleep. But despite the uncomfortable resting situation, there was a satisfied smile on his features.

"Well? Awake yet?"

The beautiful archaeologist was sitting next to you, reading a book. She looked at you with a small smile.

" Be careful, the others are still asleep. But you can go outside if you want. The snowstorm has stopped."

Robin had decided to let her friends sleep. It had been too long since they last got a little rest.

With a quiet groan, you straightened your body. You could feel an annoying headache forming. Neck pain, cold and hunger. Even if you were able to sleep, it couldn't have been for very long.

How much you were wishing to be on the Sunny right now. In your soft bed. With linen sheets. In the cozy room you share with Robin and Nami.

You stretched your body and while yawning you started walking your way out of the cave. In your head you were still dreaming. Of soft pillows and fresh-smelling flowers, like the ones that Sanji regularly brought back from the local markets for you girls. Even if his antics could be annoying, the flowers always made you smile brighter.

The girls' bedroom was always tidy and quiet. Only sometimes your giggling got louder if there was something exciting to gossip about. It was your little comfort place on the Grand Line and not only for Sanji the so-called "heaven on earth".

While fixated on your Daydreaming, you walked through the cave until you reached the entrance. You had expected that all the snow might have buried you and it would take a while to shovel your way free, but there was only a small amount of white mass in front of the cave that was relatively easy to climb. As you continued to walk towards the sunny outdoors, your thoughts returned to soft blankets. Soft pillows. And warm arms wrapped around your body.

Wait what?

You shook your head. Such thoughts were completely out of place here. The important thing now was to see how you could all get back to the village and then quickly get something to eat.

But as your legs sank into the deep snow, your selfish daydreams were immediately back.

Warm hands caressing your cheek. A rough voice whispering in your ear. Soft kisses being pressed on your neck.

Tattooed arms that were wrapped around your body and tried pulling you closer to his heaving chest.

These thoughts kept you more than warm as your thighs sank deeper into the cold snow.

No matter how hard you tried to categorize these thoughts as wrong and banish them from your brain all at once, each time they came back even stronger.

Would he touch you like that? Would his hands be as soft as you imagined? How much you would love to run your hands over his tattooed arms. Over his long fingers. And over whatever else was hidden under his covered chest.

The first time you met him, he had been wearing a dark shirt. It had been unbuttoned at the top and while observing him from a little distance, you had seen that his dark tattoos continued on his chest. But you couldn't see much. And as if he had noticed how you were literally trying to undress him with your eyes, he had turned in a different direction. You had stood there, caught, perplexed, confused, while a heart eyed Sanji had been dancing around you singing compliments to you in your new dress.

You remember hushing to Nami about those same tattoos. You had tried to make it sound as neutral as possible. Simply interested in the art under his skin.

But Nami had already figured you out. She knew how interested you were in the captain of the other crew. But instead of secretly whispering with you, she had decided to push you in his direction. She had tapped the tall man on the shoulder and asked loudly if he could take off his clothes, so that you could admire his tattoos.

You could have killed your best friend in this very second.

After he stared at the navigator with a questioning and almost angry looking face, the red head pushed you in front of the doctor. Feeling heat all over your body, the words you were trying to say came out kinda stuttered.

"I .. I'm ... sorry. There must have been a… misunderstanding. Nami wasn’t…, Captain... uh... yes, I... was just wondering if all those tattoos must have hurt?"

A incredibly stupid excuse.

"You know… because I heard that it hurts, not that I think you're too weak... no, i definitely don’t.. I know how strong you are... I mean... Chopper told me about it and well, our captain always talks about your fights... You..."

You were not really forming coherent sentences. You wanted to run away or sink into the ground. No matter how you turned it around, it would never become a sensible explanation.

The man in front of you had looked puzzled. You were way to nervous to look into his eyes.

If you hadn't been so focused on your sentences and the awkwardness of the situation, you might have seen how gentle his gaze was. Almost confidently smirking downwards.

He had just wanted to interrupt you and was planing on explaining his tattoos to you, when the loudest strawhat pulled Law towards him with his outstretched arms.

"Traaaaaaa Guuuuuuyyy! Haha. Look what I made for you." The boy was holding a plate in front of his face. It was a mountain out of various food. Meat. Vegetables. A huge amount of dry rice. It looked like an inedible mess that the other captain had formed with his own hands. At least that's what Law assumed when he saw the straw hat's food covered hands, sending a shiver down his spine. How could this young man be so out of his mind? Law felt the urge to loudly slap his palm against his forehead. The stupidity and naivety of the strawhat-ya was too much to bear. But with a little squint, even he realized that the mess on the plate in front of him looked a lot like one of his crew members.

" shishishi it looks like your bear friend, torao. Do you like it ? "

Law just rolled his eyes. That was the reason ? Angrily he stared down at the other captain. He couldn’t believe he had just been interrupted in the moment, he had the chance of a conversation with his crush! Well, not that y/n was a crush... no. Definitely not. Law just wanted to make conversation. Completely normal. Without any ulterior motives. After all, she was the newest member of the friendly pirate gang. That would only be polite. Law talked himself out of any palpitations. Was it just him or was it just really warm on this island? Besides, there was the campfire. That was an explanation on while he was feeling that way. He was definitely not feeling that warm because of some woman.

A really really cute woman.

A really cute woman standing a few tables next to him. Still at the same space, talking nervously to Nami.

The cold snow under your feet became less and less. It barely reached your ankles. The sun was shining on your face as you breathed in the fresh air. The world around you was clear and bright. Now you could see where you were. When you had all sought shelter to hide from the coming storm, the rain and snow had already been so thick that you could hardly see anything. You had been glad that Franky had discovered the cave with his headlights.

You weren’t even that far from the village. If you would have known you could have even climbed down the mountain during the storm. But because nobody had a clue where you guys were, it was saver to stay and wait for the storm to end. The cave was on the mountain between the harbor and its tiny town and the small fishing village on the other side of the island. The harbor was run by the marines and it was impossible to go there. But in the town, there were stores and places where Franky could get the parts he needed to repair on the Thousand Sunny. The fishermen had also reported that there was a small Inn in the small harbor town where they could spend the night. That had been the actual plan. Get fresh food and the repair parts. To spend the night in the town and then go back to the sunny to repair it. But you never got that far.

The snow glistened in the sunlight. A small smile flitted across your face. Even if the last few days hadn't been ideal, you were still really relieved. Everyone was doing well. No one had been tragically injured and the little bit of peace and quiet had certainly done everyone some good.

Next to your tracks in the snow, a few others were starting to appear. They couldn't be old. They were definitely fresh footprints. Probably boots.

The prints were bigger than yours. Had someone been missing when you left the cave? Immediately your thoughts went back to the tall captain. Your heart began to beat loudly.

Your eyes wandered over the landscape. And not far from you, a figure was sitting on a tree trunk in the snow. As you approached quietly, you realized that he wasn’t alone. From afar you couldn’t make out the other being in the white snow. His white fur, tousled as he was laying on the ground listening to Law while making snow angels. Bepo looked like a small child. Only in the body of a huge polar bear.

„How cute.“ you thought. A broad grin crossing your cheeks.

Until Law started talking.

"I really don't know what to do, Bepo. Every rule I ever set for myself is

Absolutely against this!“ he shook his head slightly. "fuck I can't stop thinking about her" cursing he put his face into his hands, looking down and taking a deep breath.

Who was he talking about? Quietly sneaking a little closer, you hoped the captain was too lost in thought to spot you with his Haki.

"Oh Captain. Doesn't it feel good? The most important thing is that you're well!"

The polar bear hugged his captain and talked to him gently.

"Never mind Bepo. I'm sorry to bother you with something like this. The last few weeks I could have used your time better than constantly talking about y/n"

Wait. Your name?

" I'm sure she's not interested in me anyway. After all, she's on a ship with that lovesick cook. Or the swordsman is probably much more interesting to her anyway."

"Don't tell yourself that Law. Chopper told me how much she appreciates you. Besides, she's probably annoyed by Zoro and Sanji's constant bickering.

I'm sure she thinks you're just as great as we do, boss."

There was a tired smile on Law's face. No matter how distressed and confused he was on the inside, Bepo was always a reason for him to make this feeling disappear. The polar bear apparently had no idea how much Law wanted your attention. Never would thoughts like his fly through his best friend's brain.

The way he craved your touch. And the way he got hot inside as soon as he thought of your innocent eyes looking at him from below. He wanted for you to like him a lot more than his crewmates did. Bepo was way to naive to understand why Law was waking up covered in sweat with his pillow covering his lower body when Bepo wanted to see how he was doing the other morning. Not for the first time, he wondered if he could get away with kidnapping you. Surely the strawhat-ya would be more than pissed. But it would be worth to have some time alone with you. Law had to sigh. His thoughts too shameful to ever voice them.

" Let's go back to the cave. We have more important things to do."

And with a quick -shambles- from Law, the two Heart Pirates disappeared out of your sight.

Relieved that you had not been seen, you were sitting behind a rock. You could hardly believe what you had overheard.

At first you were afraid Law was talking about someone else. Maybe Robin or Nami. They were both beautiful and clever. And both had already fought alongside him. You, on the other hand, had hardly any experience of fighting and although you had already noticed through Sanji's affection that other people perceived you as attractive, you would never have compared yourself to your friends. Both were so beautiful, kind and graceful

and yet Law had said your name.

Although you were automatically ashamed of this thought, you thought of Law laying in bed with you again, stroking your hair and repeating your name over and over again.

You wanted to bury your head in the cold snow. The heat caused by these thoughts was just too much. Annoyed and confused with yourself, you slowly made your way back towards the cave.

Your heart beating so loud you thought it would jump out of your chest.

Two days later

With a tired smile, you said goodbye to Bepo and Ikkaku. Penguin walked behind them. Before he left with the others to return to the harbor, he turned back to you.

"Hey y/n, if that crazy strawhat ever gets tired of the pirate life, our captain would certainly have no problem with you joining our crew."

He leaned his head in my direction and winked " I think he would be more than satisfied with you on board"

Laughing, he walked through the door. Closely followed by Shachi, who formed his hands into a heart and sang something unintelligible.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes. Was it that obvious?

But no matter how hard you tried not to react to the teasing comments, your face turned red when you saw Law in the corner of your eye. Whether he heard it or not, you knew this was going to be awkward as soon as you were standing face to face.

Law had of course heard what his crew had implied. But he could hardly think about it, because at the same moment the straw hat wrapped its arms around the doctor several times. If he was going to try hugging him even more, Law was sure he would end up literally crushing him.

"Let go of me immediately, Straw Hat-ya!“

" shishishi. Sure thing, Torao. Have a good journey."

Luffy's grin went from ear to ear.

Law didn't really know what to do next. He had planned to just calmly say goodbye to the others. Without any big words, and above all without any more hugs.

These crazy pirates brought out the worst in him anyway. He was always annoyed at how much he didn’t think about real life issues and even smiled from time to time. It could hardly go on like this. After all, he had a reputation to uphold.

He took a step back and spoke to the rest of the friendly crew.

" I'll see you again in two months. If you find out anything important, you'd better call us right away via the telesnail. It means a lot to me, that we are helping us in these troubling times as an alliance. Thank you for your support."

He was about to leave when something pulled at his long coat.

"Oh, Doctor Law, before you go, here are the books I borrowed from you. I was not aware of some of these treatments. So thank you very much. I look forward to working with you again."

Chopper stood proudly in front of him and gave Law back three thick medicine books. How the little reindeer was able to carry these books at all puzzled Law. But presumably one of the others had helped him. Probably Robin. The devil fruit user patted Chopper proudly on the head. A wry grin on her face. "We're all looking forward to seeing you again Trafalgar, aren't we

y/n ? "

Robin gently nudged your arm and looked expectantly into your flushed face. Inside you were cursing her. How could she have found out how you felt about the tattooed captain too. Apparently everyone knew by now anyway.

" Uh, yeah. Sure... I... eh, we all appreciate you very much. And we're happy to help you, of course. It's important to us to be there for you. And to support you on your mission. I hope everything goes well with you... with you and your crew. We want to see you back in good health."

You look in his direction with an innocent laugh. You felt beyond awkward. Were you making a fool out of yourself again?

You didn't really want to see all your friends making fun of you while you were desperately trying to talk to your crush. But when your lowered gaze went up, only a satisfied smile sat on Law's face.

Robin and Chopper turned towards the other Strawhats.

While Law was still glancing at you. His eyebrows furrowed as if he was thinking hard about something to say. After a moment of silence, he was clearing his throat.

Softly, he whispered a " Take care of yourself, Y/N-ya." in your direction.

"And you take care of yourself, Law."

Smiling, you looked once more at the handsome face in front of you. His eyes were almost shining and a quick glance at his lips made your heart beat faster.

Law wondered if he should say something else. Something that could give you certainty. But apart from a softly breathed "Y/N", nothing came from his lips.

The other pirates around you were long forgotten. Your friends saying goodbye to the other crew members, Luffy dancing around the room laughing while Sanji explained to him why he had to wait until the food was ready, and Chopper proudly telling Nami about his new knowledge. While Usopp was making fun of a loudly snoring swordsman.

Even Brook's singing was just background noise. The only thing you could hear was the loud pounding of your heart and the soft voice of the Supernova repeating your name again.

Without thinking, you took a step towards the man in front of you. He was so tall, you had to lean your head back quite a bit to keep seeing his face.

Law's head was in chaos. The rational part of him would now take a quick step back, not ever look at you again and run away with a grim expression.

But his heart had already chosen a different path. His body decided what to do next for him. Although a moment ago Luffy had his arms around Law and he cursed any form of embrace, now he longed for it. As if she had read his thoughts, Y/N put her hands around his neck and hugged him tightly. Even though his head was still not fully aware what was happening , law wrapped his strong arms around her body. How he would have loved to pull her even closer to him. But there was no time for that. And would she even want that? He could ask her to run away with him? He can’t believe his thoughts were this idiotic.

Than the brief moment was over. Neither of them wanted to draw any more attention to themselves.

He detached himself and gave you a nod with his hat hiding his eyes, before turning around and following his crew with determined steps.

Did that really just happen?

Yes, it was only a hug. But for you it was more than just that. The way he had whispered your name, what was he trying to tell you? Maybe he had that feeling too. Longing.

Even after the conversation between him and Bepo that you had overheard the other day, you were still unsure. Did he like you back?

While you stood there rooted to the spot for a few minutes and looked after the Surgeon of Death, your thoughts full of question marks, he was already scolding his silly crew members. Even if he wasn't doing it very well today.

And so he walked with Bepo, Shachi and Penguin back to the bay where his submarine was anchored. His face was red, his gaze downcast and his eyes still hidden under his hat. While Bepo asked questions like "Is it true that you really "like like" her? Or „if she becomes part of our crew, will she sleep in the same room as you?" Or " Penguin said something about you being all dirty? But you just had a shower, haven't you?" Or " Law? Do you think I'll ever find a bear girlfriend?"

Penguin and Shachi cried with laughter.

And although few things in his life have ever embarrassed him as much as the awkward questions and fake kissing sounds of his friends, Law was feeling way to happy and warm at that moment to really care.

#trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar d law x reader #x reader fanfiction #one piece #one piece imagine #one piece fanfiction #tony tony chopper #Law #Trafalgar law one piece #trafalgar law imagine

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jtl-fics · 1 year

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Fluent Freshman - Part 40

The Winter Banquet.

Where the Spring Championship announcements happen for Collegiate Exy. A formal event meant to allow the ERC to showcase how their stars weren’t just brutes on the court. Look at how beautiful and handsome they all were. Look at how they danced together. Look at the smiles and laughter and-

Wait.

No.

Put that down.

Who had the great idea to put the Jackals next to the Terrapins? Things have been tense between the teams since the Captain of the Terrapins stole the Captain of the Jackal’s date during the Fall Banquet!

I thought we all agreed that there would never be any more steak knives! What was the point of paying for all the pre-cut tenderloins if we’re just going to give them steak knives?!

Really gotta find an intern to pin this fiasco on.

Oh great the Foxes are leaving! Did we even get a picture of Kevin Day in his suit? Fuck it’s going to be a two intern firing kind of day isn’t it.

Someone get an eye on the Ravens before they try and grab some hapless idiot and sacrifice him to revive Riko Moriyama. If there’s even one more damn tabloid with a blurry photo of ‘Riko Moriyama’ to prove that his death was faked then heads will roll.

Honestly, the biopic that some Edgar Allan Film student is making about him seems pretty interesting. The ERC just wishes people would stop taking pics of the ‘lead actor’ and sending it to tabloids as proof that the King hadn’t died.

Fuck, the Foxes left before we got any decent pictures.

Well just great.

You’d think that after all these years of the Foxes leaving early they’d have learned that getting pictures as they arrive is the most important thing.

Oh thank god it looks like the Trojans are starting to mediate the fight. You can always count on good ol’ Jeremy.

Fuck.

A Raven got too close to Jean Moreau and now Jeremy Knox has punched a Backliner. Great. The Trojans have formed ranks around Moreau but the kid’s just too damn tall. Someone has hit him in the head with an especially saucy meatball, he’s not injured, just confused. The Trojans are acting like it’s a gunshot he just took to the head.

The refreshment table just seemed to collapse in on itself and god wasn’t that just an allegory for this entire damn evening.

Anita Flores sighs as she watches yet another banquet go down in a riot. Honestly, she doesn’t know why they think these will end up differently. She finds herself often missing when she used to coordinate banquets for football teams.

She sighs and thinks about her least favorite interns.

Alex had been getting a bit too cocky lately. He’d make a good sacrifice.

***

(Three hours earlier)

The Palmetto State Foxes were on their way to the Winter Banquet. From what FF understood it was categorically always a 90% chance of a shitshow. Honestly FF was surprised that the percentage was that low.

There was a general tenseness in the air surrounding it that went beyond the Banquet’s propensity to become a fight.

This year the Winter Banquet was going to be held up at the Binghamton Bearcat’s stadium. The nation knew the story from the news and FF knew the story from both that and from the Foxes themselves who were there at the time in bits and pieces.

Captain Neil had been kidnapped from this stadium and then he’d been tortured. FF hadn’t even been on the team when it had happened and he was anxious about Captain Neil going anywhere near the stadium.

“He was just…he was just gone.” Matt had said, “Neil was gone and Kevin said that he was probably dead when Andrew got back with his phone.” He continued as the two of them sat up late in the living room of the dorm one night back in early October.

“I thought Andrew was going to kill me y’know.” Kevin had said bottle in hand as FF tried to help him up the stairs because apparently he would 100% guarantee vomit if he was in the nausea box. “I thought that maybe I deserved it, since I didn’t help Neil. I just let him walk to his death.” He said and despite assurances that he wouldn’t puke FF’s shoes did not make it through that journey unscathed.

“We called…we called everywhere.” Nicky had stared up at the ceiling of his hospital room, “Andrew was adamant that he was still alive even though Kevin kept saying he was dead and that dead was the nicest thing he could hope for. I thought that was a terrible thing to say.” Nicky curled up closer to him.

“I told you, Andrew dragged me like I was nothing to get to Neil. I don’t think he even noticed the guns.” Wymack said to Abby as the two sat on the back porch during Aras’ going away party. “His eyes were on Neil.” he gestures towards where Andrew was watching Captain Neil wrestle with Matt.

“He looked like shit.” Aaron had said unable to stomach a diagram of different degrees of burn in his medical book. “At least he was alive.” He adds.

“A hero.” Andrew’s voice had been what could be considered teasing from Andrew, “Someone who looks like her.” he had said touching Captain Neil’s burn scars as they drove away from the stadium after coming back to pick FF up.

Captain Neil had come to him the day before they were set to drive out, “Take me somewhere no one will find me for an hour.” FF hadn’t quite understood what Captain Neil meant, he never hid anywhere. People just failed to realize where he was.

“Ok.” he says instead of trying to explain because being unnoticed means no one hid codes from him.

The roof of the Library wasn’t that much different from the roof of the Tower, only that it was taller and bigger. Captain Neil had shut his phone off after texting something, likely to Andrew, and then put it into his pocket.

FF settled on the roof, sat with his back against a heating vent to stay warm. Captain Neil settled next to him and they sat in silence. It felt like back at the start of this where Captain Neil and Andrew would come find him and just sit in silence.

It was nice. He had missed-

“They act like the stadium is the thing that kidnapped me.” Captain Neil says.

Oh okay, quiet time is over apparently.

FF doesn’t say anything, figuring that nothing he could say right now would be the right thing and maybe Captain Neil just needs to talk through some stuff.

“That stadium is where I thought I’d have my last good memory.” Captain Neil explains, “I’m not scared of it and yet Andrew’s acting like I’ll die if I’m left alone for more than 2 seconds while we’re there. Every time we go there they all act like the most important thing in the world is that I get on that bus at the end of the night.” Captain Neil explains.

FF does remember how Andrew had grabbed Captain Neil after their October game up in Binghamton. How Captain Neil had complained bitterly but had gone after looking at Andrew.

“He’s dead!” Captain Neil exclaimed and FF couldn’t help but look over at the entrance and hoped no one heard them. “He’s dead! I watched him get shot! He can’t kidnap me again!” Captain Neil continued to yell and FF couldn’t help but worry that they’d be heard below, or worse bother a student trying to study below.

FF reached out and touched Captain Neil’s arm and bright blue eyes turned to him, “We’re on a library. Don’t yell.” FF said and Captain Neil looked at him incredulously.

Then he laughed. He laughed and laughed and FF was worried that he’d gone and broken his Captain.

He suddenly felt bad about his own bout of hysterical laughter a while back.

“Thanks Smith.” Captain Neil had said with a smile.

They had sat up there until it was dark and Andrew had started calling FF’s phone and Captain Neil took the call to say he was coming back.

Now they’re on the bus, dressed nicely, and on their way up to Binghamton’s stadium. Captain Neil and Andrew are hidden in the far back of the bus with Andrew looking far more like a watchdog than anything else the closer they got to their destination.

Captain Neil had seemed largely resigned to this treatment at this point. Eventually they were at the stadium and shown to their seats. They were sat across from the Trojans and it seemed like the rest of the team was quite pleased with that.

“Smith!” Captain Jeremy Knox is smiling at him, “Nice to see you again bud, nice name change too.” he says.

“It’s nice to see you too, Captain Jeremy.” FF says and doesn’t notice how Captain Neil’s head whips around to look at him.

“You two know each other?” Nicky asks looking between the two of them with excitement.

“Of course! We offered Smith a spot at the USC Trojans.” Captain Jeremy says and FF feels his stomach cramp at the memory.

That had been terrifying.

Coach Rheman and Captain Jeremy wanted to sit down to make their offer with his parents. He was still 17 and unable to sign anything legal without their permission. He’d tried to decline and move past them and Captain Jeremy had put the final nail in the coffin at the time for any thought that he could go to college on the power of his apparent Exy capabilities.

“I saw in your file that you have brothers! USC always gives a second look at student applicants who already have siblings in the university. You could go to school with your brothers!” he had smiled brightly like he wasn’t issuing FF one of the most terrifying threats he’d ever heard in his entire life.

He had given the firmest ‘No thank you, I’m not interested in playing Exy in college.’ he could and was running to his Grandma’s to breath into a bag for twenty minutes.

“I see you changed your mind about playing Exy in college.” Captain Jeremy said with the same smile that still feels like a threat.

“Coach Wymack and Captain Dan were convincing.” he says and looks to see if there’s any way he can move further away from Captain Jeremy’s attention.

“Can I ask what convinced you to be a Fox?” Captain Jeremy asks, “I’m always trying to see what support we should be offering. I found out last year that we missed out on Andrew because we didn’t offer spots to Aaron or Nicky. I thought since you had brothers that’d be the thing that got you.” Captain Jeremy leans across the table but stops when he notices the Foxes all tense. “Whoa, what’s up?” he asks.

Jean Moreau sighs from next to Captain Jeremy, “Not everyone wants to go to college with their family, Jeremy.” Jean says, “Did it not cross your mind that he changed his entire name?” he asks with a raised brow.

Jeremy blinks, “Oh,” he looks at FF, “I guess that wasn’t the right thing to offer.” he says leaning back in his chair.

“I guess I should thank you for offering that?” Nicky says wryly before turning to look at FF, “You look better in orange anyways.” he says.

“Thank you Nicky.” FF returns loyally.

The banquet gets started shortly afterwards. Food is served. The bar is opened. People are talking. FF finds himself relaxing the longer the conversations around him go on. Matt is talking with a backliner on the Trojan line named Todd in good cheer. Captain Neil, Kevin, and Jean are all talking about the latest updates with Ichirou in French with the occasional gesture towards FF. Jean Moreau looks at him with a raised eyebrow but gives him a single nod when Captain Neil explains what happened.

Jeremy is chatting with Jack and even Jack was finding it hard to maintain his usual level of rudeness in the face of such unbridled positive energy. Nicky was talking with Katelyn and Alvarez. Aaron was chatting with a fellow med student college athlete who was an offensive dealer.

It was shaping up to be a good night.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

#Fluent Freshman AU #Jeremy Knox essentially threatening FF on accident #With a huge smile #Fucking kills me #Winter Banquet getting into full swing #Ya'll know where it's heading but not all the parts that happen #Foxes are on high alert #No one likes Neil being in Binghamton #There was definitely an all-hands meeting about how Neil is not allowed to go anywhere alone #That if a security guard approaches Neil you treat that security guard like an active threat #Nicky just thinks it's Andrew wanting an excuse to hold his BF's hand all night #Andrew: “Smith you're on covert operations. Keep an eye out for threats.”#FF: “Aye aye Captain.”#Neil: “OH SO NOW HE'S A CAPTAIN TOO? WHAT'S NEXT?!”#Neil is butt hurt about the whole “Captain Jeremy” thing #He could accept it for Dan #But JEREMY?#Neil's gonna need a lot of TLC to get over this betrayal TBFH #In adult news #My closing is next week Friday!#Wooo #I really speedran the whole owning property thing #Thank you bullshit luck #AFTG #AFTG AU #AFTG OC #Andreil #Wow 40 parts on this thing #Still wild #Thanks for joining me on this ride

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novaursa · 9 hours

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I can’t get this idea out of my head and thought you’d be the right person to come to 😅I have this idea of reader being a targ/velaryon with a dragon. She is betrothed to a lord/prince/king who she has fallen in love with, but she is betrayed by them. maybe they wanted to steal readers dragon for themselves and only pretended to love them to gain the advantage of having a dragon.

I’ll let you decide how the ending is, if reader goes full on mad Targaryen or sorts it another way

Fire and Salt

- Summary: Euron pays the price of fire for his ambitions.

- Paring: targ!reader/Euron Greyjoy

- Note: The reader is the twin sister of Daenerys, and is bonded with Rhaegel.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

- A/N: I had to switch this to ASOIAF universe, because this man is only one I can think of who would play with his life like that. 🤣

The marriage had been a spectacle of fire and shadow, a union born of necessity and ambition. The Iron Islands’ winds, sharp and cold, whipped against your face as you stood beside Euron Greyjoy on the deck of the Silence. The sea roared beneath you, and in the distance, your dragon, Rhaegal, circled the skies, a green shadow against the storm-darkened clouds. You glanced at Euron, his smile like a blade glinting in the sun, his hand tightening around yours in a possessive grip.

“Your sister is pleased, I hope,” he murmured, his voice a purr of satisfaction. “Our marriage seals her alliance with the Ironborn. And I gain the most beautiful dragon rider in the world.” He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Tell me, my wife, do you find our arrangement to your liking?”

You tilted your head, meeting his gaze. There was something wild in his eyes, a madness that both repelled and fascinated you. “The arrangement suits Daenerys,” you replied, your voice steady. “And it suits me well enough.”

Euron chuckled, his fingers brushing the hilt of his axe as if testing its edge. “Well enough?” he echoed, his grin widening. “I think I can do better than that.” He gestured expansively to the Ironborn gathered below, their cheers a cacophony of loyalty and ferocity. “See, my love, they scream your name now as they scream mine. We are one, you and I. Rhaegal is mine as much as he is yours.”

Your dragon’s roar split the sky, and the cheers of the Ironborn faltered, their faces turning upward with awe and fear. You felt the heat of Rhaegal’s presence, the bond between you thrumming like a living thing. He was yours, and only yours, despite Euron’s delusions.

“You will never command him,” you said softly, a warning threaded through your words. “Rhaegal answers to no one but me.”

Euron’s eyes narrowed, the charm in his expression hardening to something more dangerous. “We shall see,” he said, his voice low and cold. “We shall see.”

The days that followed were filled with uneasy peace. You played your part as the dutiful wife, attending to your duties, speaking with the captains, and even sharing Euron’s bed. He was a tempest, a force of nature, and while you despised his arrogance and cruelty, there was something else there, something darker and more complex. You found yourself drawn to him, to the storm that raged within him.

But Euron had his own plans. You sensed it in his whispers to his priests, in the way his gaze lingered on you when he thought you weren’t watching. And then, one night, it happened.

He called you to the deck, the moon high and full above the sea, the air thick with salt and the promise of violence. The crew watched in silence as Euron stood beside the massive iron chains that held Rhaegal, your dragon’s bronze eyes glowing like distant stars in the dark.

“I have gifts, my love,” Euron announced, his voice carrying across the ship. “Gifts for you and for your dragon.” He gestured to the men at his side, who dragged forward a writhing, terrified figure. A priest of the Drowned God, his face twisted in fear and pain.

You stepped forward, your heart pounding. “Euron, what are you doing?”

“Making a bond, Y/N,” he said, his voice almost gentle. “Between myself and your beast. Blood magic, they say. The blood of a priest, the blood of the sea. It will bind Rhaegal to me, and to us.”

Rhaegal growled, his teeth bared, smoke curling from his nostrils. You felt his rage, his defiance. He was not some beast to be tamed. He was fire and fury, and he was yours.

“Stop this madness,” you said, your voice shaking with anger. “You will die if you try.”

Euron laughed, a wild, reckless sound. “Die? No, my love. I will become a god.”

He raised the axe, and the priest screamed. But before he could strike, Rhaegal lunged forward, breaking the chains as if they were threads of silk. His jaws closed around Euron’s arm, and the Ironborn lord cried out in shock and pain.

“Mercy!” he screamed, his face twisted in agony as Rhaegal’s teeth sank deeper, tearing through flesh and bone. “Mercy, Y/N, please!”

You stood still, your heart a stone in your chest. This man had sought to use you, to control you and your dragon. He had thought he could bind fire to his will, that he could take what was yours.

Rhaegal’s orange-yellow flames erupted, engulfing Euron in a blazing inferno. His screams echoed across the sea, and the Ironborn watched in horrified silence as their king burned. You watched, your face impassive, as the flames consumed him, as his body crumbled to ash.

When the fire died, there was nothing left of Euron Greyjoy but a blackened smear on the deck. The crew stared at you, their eyes wide with fear and awe. You turned to Rhaegal, your hand resting gently on his scaled neck. He rumbled, his breath hot against your skin, and you felt his anger recede, replaced by a fierce, unbreakable bond.

“Burn it all,” you commanded softly, your voice carrying in the stillness. “Burn the Silence. Burn every ship.”

Rhaegal roared, his wings spreading wide as he took to the sky. His flames rained down upon the fleet, yellow fire licking across the decks, devouring sails and masts. The screams of the Ironborn rose as the ships burned, the sea boiling with heat and fury.

You watched from the deck of the Silence, your face lit by the flames. This was the end of Euron Greyjoy’s ambitions, the end of his dreams of conquest and power. He had tried to bind you, to use you, and he had paid the price.

When the last ship sank beneath the waves, the fire hissing as it met the water, you turned away. Rhaegal descended, landing beside you with a thud that shook the deck. You mounted him, your hand resting on his neck as he spread his wings.

“Fly,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the roar of the flames. “Take us home.”

Rhaegal launched into the air, the wind whipping around you as you rose above the burning fleet, above the wreckage of Euron’s ambitions. Below, the sea churned, the flames reflecting in its dark depths like a vision of hell.

You looked back once, at the ruins of the Ironborn fleet, at the shattered dreams of the man who had thought he could control you. And then you turned your gaze forward, to the horizon, to the future that awaited you.

You had come for power, for vengeance, and for love. You had found one, tasted another, and destroyed the last. But you were a Targaryen, and you would not be used. Not by Euron, not by anyone.

The sea stretched out before you, vast and unending, and you felt a thrill of freedom, of power, as Rhaegal soared higher, his wings beating against the sky.

You were fire, and blood, and vengeance. And the world would know your name.

#a song of ice and fire #asoiaf x reader #asoiaf #asoif/got #game of thrones #got x you #got x y/n #got x reader #euron x reader #euron x you #euron x y/n #euron greyjoy #rhaegal

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midniiights-garden · 9 months

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To Those Beyond The Sea - Mizu x filipino!Reader

(A/N: THIS IS FOR THE LOVELY ANON @dinadearine!! I wanted my main ff to be more of the reader escaping to Japan bc of the Spanish, but I loved this idea sm so I still wanted to write something for it!! I hope you like it <33)

Possible TWs!!!: Sex, Canon typical violence, possibly ooc?

Mizu was rather pissed off when the captain of her ship told her they would be making a stop over at a nearby country before moving onto Britain. After all, in her eyes it was simply a waste of time. Why would she want to spend time in a place that didn't aid her search for vengence after all? That was the price to pay for choosing a cargo ship instead of one ferrying passengers. So, she begrudgingly acknowledged the statement before turning her gaze back to the sea, her eyes scanning the waves for unknown answers.

Her ship arrives at it's destination the next morning. Mizu is surprised to find herself in a warm, tropical country. It wasn't that far away from her homeland of Japan, and yet the scenery was worlds away. The sun beat down onto her heavily, making her sweat in her disguise. She suddenly regretted not packing lighter clothing. The air here was humid, thick. She could feel it sticking to her skin and frankly she was at a loss as to whether or not it was a good thing or not. And then there was the town. It was a quaint sea side port, but it was full of life. Children ran around the streets, yelling and playing happily with one another. Vendors were selling their wares, there were people singing and laugh... and there was chatter everywhere. Quite different to Japan. A part of her finds this stark difference endearing. Everyone here seemed so... happy. She notes the darker skin tone of the people around her, marveling in it's beauty. The people here were beautiful. And Mizu couldn't decide whether or not it was because of their smiles or their features.

But she was sweating. Really badly.

"Fuck," she mutters, shrugging off her haori. She couldn't risk revealing her identity as a woman, but at the same time she was pretty sure she would die if she didn't get some new clothes. So she disembarked, stepping onto the docks of the town and heading inwards to search for a tailor who could help her.

Suddenly, someone bumps into her. One of the native women. Mizu had to catch herself from staring. The woman before her was considerably shorter her tanned skin shining beautifully in the sunlight. The stranger's hair was dark, so dark it was nearly black and it was tied up gracefully into a bun at the nape of her neck. The woman looks up at Mizu, warm brown eyes staring curiously into her blue ones.

"...pasensya na," the woman says, lowering her head bashfully.

Mizu stares, absolutely puzzled. What the hell was a passensha?

"Uhm... w-what?" Mizu replies, hoping that she didn't sound too awkward or nervous.

Mizu and the woman stare at each other for a while as it dawns on the both of them. They had no way to communicate. The woman bites down on her lower lip, looking worried. She suddenly points at herself and then at Mizu before making her hands bump together. "Ano... I..." she begins, her accent thick. She points back to herself and then bows dramatically. It finally dawns on Mizu... The woman was apologizing.

"I-It's," Mizu begins. "Ok." In an effort to communicate with the stranger she forces her lips into a smile, nodding her head as an acceptance of her apology. Much to Mizu's relief the woman smiles brightly, so brightly Mizu was certain that the sun itself had been reincarnated into this tiny human. The woman then points at herself again before speaking. She tells Mizu her name, a name that she had never heard of and yet was now finding incredibly beautiful. She repeats it, testing the syllables on her tongue before pointing to herself.

"Mizu," she says. The stranger, you, smiles. You test her name on your tounge as well, delighted to make another friend.

Meanwhile Mizu is quite literally sweating to death, having previously been too distracted by the new figure to notice her state. She was now thrown back to reality by the sticky feeling of her clothing against her back. Mizu taps your shoulder, pointing at her clothes.

"Need... new ones," she says to you. You seem to get the message, and you quickly lead her to a vendor. You chat with said vendor quickly, telling the lady running it that Mizu requires new clothing to suit the weather and she quickly whips something up for Mizu.

"Salamat po!" I say gratefully as I hand the clothing to the still sweating Mizu. Mizu takes the clothing gratefully, hurrying back to her ship to change into the lighter clothing. She sighed in relief as the light fabric touched her skin, cooling her off. When she exits her room she's surprised to find you still waiting for her at the dock. How persistent of you.

That meeting was now two weeks ago. The first meeting that would change the both of your lives. Mizu couldn't help but be drawn in by your welcoming, sunny nature. It was so sincere, so sweet that she was sucked in as if she was stuck in a vat of taffy. Within those two weeks you had both learned to communicate through English (which Mizu found additionally helpful considering she would need to know English to get around Britain). Mizu eventually ended up telling you about her past. About how she was really a woman in disguise, how she had murdered her husband and how she was killing all the men who had the audacity to force her into being. And yet despite knowing all these truths you never once stopped smiling at her the same way. Not even when you had begged her to spar with you and lost. When she pinned you down Mizu was afraid it would be a repeat of Mikio, and yet all you did was giggle. You giggled and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

That was when she realized something that both elated and horrified her. She loved you. Mizu had fallen head over heels for you. For your sunny personality, for your smile for everything. She pulls away from you briefly, trying to process the warmth she felt in her chest at the sight of you. When she does come back to you the first thing she does is apologize.

"For what?" You ask her, tilting your head to the side.

"For disappearing so suddenly," Mizu replies.

"Oh? That? I just figured you needed space," you say, giving her a reassuring smile.

"Goddamn it. Will you stop being so damn cute?" Mizu hisses, suddenly clamping down on her own mouth once she realized what she had said. Meanwhile you stand there briefly, shocked at what she just said.

"Cute?" You ask. "You think.. I'm cute?"

"Yes," Mizu groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Listen, I... I love-"

You cut her off. "I love you too."

Mizu's heart stutters, her breath hitching in her throat. You loved her back. Now without reservation she grabbed ahold of you by the collar of your blouse, pulling you forward and kissing you.

Kissing turned to making out and making out turned to grinding and before either of you could process it you were both unclothed, your bodies intertwined intimately.

"You're beautiful," you whisper between moans.

For once Mizu almost cried; not out of anger or despair... But this time out of joy. After the intense night of pleasure you slept in each others arms, taking solace in the warmth of your lover.

Come morning Mizu held you tightly, pressing soft kisses to your forehead. What was once a stop over she had deemed unnecessary became one of the most important events in her life. But she would have to go soon, and they both knew it. You both spend the rest of your time together as a couple, whispered words of comfort and love shared between the both of you. And the night before her departure from your warm homeland you got married.

"Mizu," I whisper after our small ceremony. "I hope you know I'm coming with you."

Mizu's eyes widened.

"What? Are you crazy!?! You'll get hurt! I-" She is promptly shut up by your finger on her lips, your dark eyes twinkling with mischief. "Shh, love. I'm coming with. I'm your wife now, as you are mine. And I promise to do whatever it takes to help you in your quest. I promise. Mahal kita," you whisper, kissing her tenderly. Mizu knew better than to argue. Not with your stubborn personality. Which is how she now finds herself in London, her beautiful wife at her side. From now until forever more.

Translations!!:

Pasensya na - Excuse me

Ano - What

Salamat po - Thank you (sir/ma'am - idk how to translate po tbh)

Mahal kita - I love you

(A/N: ANNDDDD DONE!! :D I hope this was up to your standards!! I'm sorry the smut part is so short it's more implied if anything 😭😭I was too scared to make it longer but I swear I'll do a proper smut scene in the future. As usual, if anyone has any suggestion, comments or requests feel free to ask!! Love y'all <3)

#i love women #mizu blue eye samurai #wlw #mizu x reader #mizu come home the kids miss you #mizu #blue eye samurai #x reader #fem!reader #smut #fluff #filipino #i need more filipino rep in my life #i need her #i love fictional characters #i love the traumatized sword lady

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thgfanfictionlibrary · 11 days

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hey! a weird question😭 do you have any recs where katniss cheats on or gale is being forced to watch a very loving everlark? thanks

Hello Anon!

Below is a list of Cheating!Katniss on Gale. Hopefully some of these are new to you! Happy Reading!

1400 Degrees-passionately_curious (tumblr) Summary: Her life was boring. Her marriage, unhappy. Her sex life, non-existent. A visit to his office makes Katniss burn blue for someone who is decidedly not her husband. A Slow Burning Fire-books-are-better (ff) Summary: Modern Day AU. Katniss Everdeen and her longtime boyfriend Gale move to a new city, and room with Peeta and Finnick, two half-brothers from Gale's childhood. But Katniss's and Gale's relationship begins to crumble when the kindness and passion of the beautiful boy with blue eyes shows her that her life is missing something. And it's him. Begin Again-Michelleleahhh (ao3) Summary: The problem is that he’s married. No matter how much Katniss wants him or needs him, he’s forever forbidden. Forever out of her reach. And even if Peeta wants her like she wants him, they’re vowed to other people. Even-annieoakley1 (ao3) Summary: Katniss Everdeen tries to navigate the rough waters of long-distance with her boyfriend while juggling her time with a surprising new friend. But when Gale makes a decision that jeopardizes their relationship, Katniss realizes that she can settle the score. And she picks Peeta Mellark to help her get even. Hero of the Story-atetheredmind (ao3) Summary: By the end of the summer, Peeta Mellark had married the shoemaker's daughter. And by the end of the summer, Katniss had wed Gale in a small toasting ceremony. AU where Prim and Peeta are never reaped, and where there is no mockingjay, no rebellion.

Portrait of Mrs. Hawthorne-thesweetnessofspring (ao3) Summary: Katniss has always done her duty. When her father died, she married to secure her family's well-being. As a wife, she does everything expected of her, whether she enjoys it or not. Then her husband, Captain Gale Hawthorne, commissions renowned artist Peeta Mellark to paint his new bride. As Katniss and Mr. Mellark spend hours together during their portrait sessions and after, feelings develop between them she has never experienced with anyone else before and the need for him to take her grows too strong to resist.

Something Old, Something New-DrMellark (ff) Summary: Katniss Everdeen has reluctantly accepted her long-time boyfriend Gale Hawthorne's marriage proposal. But, after a night out "celebrating" with her friends, she wakes up in the bed of a handsome blue-eyed blonde who isn't her fiance. Swing-atetheredmind (ao3) Summary: The underground swingers population of Panem County is a mystery to Katniss, one she's about to become intimately more familiar with than she ever imagined. Everlark. Tangled Up In Blue–sunfishdunes (ao3) Summary: Two people find and lose each other repeatedly over the course of five years. Tell Me-JennaGill (ao3) Summary: Katniss is greedy. Peeta is envious. Everlark lust. The Affair-muttpeeta (tumblr) Intro: Katniss has just dropped her bag on her desk when Peeta appears, two coffee mugs in hand. “Good morning,” he greets with an easy smile. “Two sugars, just like you like it.” Even as she rolls her eyes, she can’t help the smile that slips into place as she takes the proffered mug. “If you suck up any harder, you’re going to collapse a lung, Mellark,” she teases, sipping the hot liquid before she sets it down beside her keyboard. Where Did You Sleep Last Night?-LolaBleu (ao3) Summary: Blindsided, that’s how Katniss feels when she goes out for her morning coffee and runs into Peeta. It’s been two years since she talked to him, longer since she’s seen him, but there he is, standing in front of her in the sidewalk, smiling like their love story had a happy ending. Sometimes - lots of times - she wishes it did.

Here's a fic I know of where Gale is forced to see a loving Everlark Family too!

I Can See you Standin', Honey, With His Arms Around your Body-HuntersWithCellPhones (ao3) Summary: Spoilers for Mockingjay Gale comes back to twelve years after the war, expecting to find a Katniss he could possibly fall in love with. Marry. At the very least, they could be friends again. But, instead, he finds Katniss married to Peeta with a little boy named Rye. Drama ensues. The Baker & The Hunter-katnissdoesnotfollowback (ao3) Summary: Gale returns to District Twelve several years after the fall of the Capitol to discover that a lot has changed, and a lot hasn't. There's a baker…and a hunter in this story. And a toasting.

If anyone knows of a fic like these suggestions, please reblog, reply, or send an ask with fics fitting this idea and I’ll add it to future masterlists!

As always, if you have any questions, comments, or suggestions, please feel free to shoot me an ask!

Update 9/16/24 @3:45pm

Thank you for the suggestions @thesweetnessofspring and @toastbaby

#cheating!katnissxpeeta #kxgcheating #jealous!gale #everlark #thg #everlark fanfiction #thg fanfiction #thglibrary masterlist

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acupofqueercoffee · 2 years

Text

“A healer, a lover, a killer”

Unohana Retsu x Female Reader

wc : 6700+

cw : arranged marriage // sexual assault towards the very end // ***non-con is NOT between reader and retsu*** // blood and gore // graphic description of corpses // hurt-comfort // fluff and fluff and fluff and fluff // flirting // wives // minazuki is a gentle-giant 🥺 // murderous milf // older woman x younger woman

ffs i just want to spoil my mommy rotten (and be spoiled rotten) is it too much to ask for ಥ◡ಥ i’m desperate to do her justice but bruhh she sure is difficult to write 🥲

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Marriage, in essence, is a sacred binding of two people, or rather two lovers during which they vow as one to cherish the beauties, to endure the burdens of life.

There may have been a time when you have fancied such foolish fantasies, entertained little hope of finding a love so profound that it will bleed colours into your lonely, miserable life.

Alas, fate does not favour you. But of course, it never does. Likely will never do.

You were born earning the resentment of your father, for his beloved wife perished as you came to be. She was the apple of his eyes, the one possession that he dearly cherished, and swore to cherish in perpetuity. With fingers entwined and two hearts as one, they had endured the burdens of life in tandem, and just when it was beginning to thrive, a promising future stretched out ahead of them like a perpetual sunrise, a curse befell them in the form of you, oh evil, despicable you.

Bearing the brunt of the mother’s death is the child as your father treats you with much hostility. Within him resides not a dot of affection for you, and he makes a point of rubbing salt into your wounds, reminding you in every possible way that you are a murderer, an abomination, a hellspawn on a sacred land. Your life is no better than a slave’s, easier perhaps without the need to exert yourself, but certainly not kinder without anyone to converse with, much less to confide in. Even a slave has companions whereas you who is abhorred and forsaken by your own flesh and blood, have no one in this world but yourself.

Thus, in your father’s resentful hands, the flickering light in your heart eventually, completely dies.

When you have finally come to terms with your life as it is, marriage comes to you in the form of a cruel joke.

If you have been none the wiser, you may have believed it to be a chance at a better life, a crack of sunshine through a sky full of gloom. And for a while, you have. Naive enough to hope. Foolish enough to dream. All it takes is a flick of your father’s merciless tongue, and the fool’s paradise, in which you have been taking sanctuary, comes tumbling down.

“You do not deserve to feel happiness as ephemeral as it will be. So, listen to me. And listen carefully. The Gotei 13 wanted me to hand you in saying that while you may not presently look the part, you are a menace to soul society. You should have never been born to begin with. Instead of her, it should have been you.”

“Despite everything, in the end, I very generously agreed to relinquish you under only one condition. That you will be wedded to one of the captains. Such an outstanding opportunity is hard to come by and apparently, they were desperate enough to get their hands on you whatever the cost. I requested that the wedding be held to the nines for the sake of publicity. People need to witness it with their own eyes in order for them not to talk foul of my family.”

“I can’t have the whole boat going putrid because of a single carp, can I? So, enjoy it while it lasts, dear daughter because I can’t promise that you’ll come out unscathed once they’re done with you.”

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Your soon-to-be other half is a stranger. You know about her as much as you know about the outside world: in other words, next to nothing. Except that her eyes are reminiscent of azurites, and her hair, a moonless night, the woman with whom you will be spending the rest of your life is merely a stranger to you. But then again, with their motives kept under wraps, you will be lucky to survive through the night.

Fleeing is out of the question for you understand the extent of your capabilities, and to flee right now will be tantamount to dicing with death. Despite your father’s despicable attempts to trap you in despair, you decide that playing docile is quite possibly your best bet. Come rain or shine, you will survive. You have not endured the torments of your wicked father after all this time simply to be trampled like a weed. What an insult it will be to your painstaking efforts.

So, when you are asked if you will take the stranger before you as your lifelong partner, without hesitation, you say, “I do”. Legions of people bear witness to your false union as your wife echoes your words; her dulcet voice, like the first trickle of rain, slakes your drought.

“Won’t you seal the deal with a kiss, Captain Unohana?”

Amongst the circle of people who are uniformly dressed in white overcoats, the one whose voice has sounded mischievous has been a man with a straw hat and an additional pink garb.

Unohana. Unohana. Unohana.

A pretty name indeed, as befits a pretty woman.

The first half of his statement is entirely lost on you as you repeat the name in your mind over and over and over again. It is the delicate crawl of fingers on your face that rectifies your lapse of concentration. First thing you notice, once you have blinked the haze away, is her violet gaze that is caressing your features and her face that has unexpectedly appeared under your nose, leaving little to no space to the point that your breaths mingle.

The warmness of her breath that ghosts along the apple of your cheek smells faintly of wild flowers and herbs; then comes the silky press of her lips atop the corner of your mouth. Given the circumstances, the kiss is not entirely unpleasant. If nothing else, it is kind, and although you loathe to admit it, your heart sings under her touch.

You fail to mention before that she has rose buds for lips, and now, upon departure, they bestow upon you a beautiful pink blossom smile. It is serene, strangely soothing, and you feel at peace with the woman who is your wife, all kind eyes and saccharine smiles, but whose full name you have yet to learn.

As inclined as you feel to assume that the kiss has somehow irreversibly put you under her spell, the more logical part of you know that neither your mind nor body is tampered with; your admiration for her beauty is born purely of your unadulterated self. Since the dawn of your life, it is ironically in the hands of a stranger whose intentions with you are still unclear that you experience tenderness for the very first time. Some semblance of affection has visited you in the form of a palm cradling your cheek and lips caressing your skin, and although you know it to be nothing more than a performance, it is undeniably the closest that you have ever felt to being loved.

Her gesture has understandably moved you in the warmest of ways, and it is only given that, as she continues to drench you in gentleness and swaddle you in kindness, you will grow to forget the true nature of your marriage.

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“Follow me.”

Such has been your wife’s first words to you, a command that leaves no room for rejection, as she comes to meet you in her, or rather your shared quarters. In her absence, unsure of what to do with yourself, you have been sitting on your heels by the side of a tea table, anxiously awaiting her arrival, but immediately on her command, you arise to your feet. And then, follow her you do as she leads you outside.

In the middle of the veranda, a wooden tray lies in wait, holding on it a ceramic pot and two ceramic cups. The side of the veranda, towards which the pair of you are heading, lacks the railing, and it overlooks the other buildings in Seireitei. When she goes to take a seat beside the tray, you silently watch her. Only upon being motioned to do the same do you mirror your wife. The night is tranquil and the sky, brimming with tiny twinkles. The flickering lights from the buildings below and the glittering celestial bodies above; together, they give you the illusion that you are being swallowed into an infinite pool of stars.

In the quietness of the night, she speaks with a gentle lilt that is carried to you by a zephyr.

“You have questions for me, I take it?”

Simply sitting still in leisurely contemplation of the stars, she oozes charisma, and you cannot help but admire her. Due to the moon bathing her in its silver glow, her long hair that is tied loosely around the small of her back shines with an otherworldly sheen. She is the juxtaposition of darks and lights as the charcoal of her strands that elegantly frame her angelic face accentuates the milkiness of her skin.

“Am I that dangerous of a person for you to willingly go through with this folly?”

It is more or less a slip of your tongue. There are many questions to which you seek answers, and at the first chance, without really thinking, you end up blurting out the one thing that is on the forefront of your mind.

When her eyes seek your face and your eyes subsequently are greeted by her face, to your surprise, a smile crawls onto her lips.

“My, what gives you the impression that this marriage is a sham?”

“I was told by my father that I was to be surrendered to Seireitei, and that all he had asked in exchange was for a captain to wed me very publicly, because he hated the idea of his family name being tarnished by the likes of me.”

“The likes of you?”

Tea is poured equally into two cups; one finds itself in your hand whereas the other is taken into elegant fingers. The warmth of the liquid as you take a delicate sip thaws the chill in your bones. By the time your voice makes an escape from your lips, it is accompanied by the billowing steam from your cup.

“A menace to soul society.”

“Hmm, is that what he said?”

Your response has been a nod, and she receives it with a hum.

“I see.”

Cradling the cup in your palms, you twiddle your thumbs over the rim, lips caught between your teeth.

“Is it true?”

“Partially, that is.”

At her words, confusion reigns. However intrigued you are, you wait patiently, poising for elaboration as she takes a languid sip of her tea.

Once again, she holds your stare before she speaks. The tilt of her lips that settles back into a line indicates solemnity.

“What I’m about to tell you is highly confidential, but since it concerns you, we’ve come to a collective agreement that it wouldn’t hurt to inform you of it. That, and we necessitate your cooperation.”

“You are not inherently a peril, although if fallen into wrong hands, you will inadvertently prove hazardous to Soul Society. You have innate powers that, while you may not be able to use them, make you a catalyst of sorts. It is not Reiryoku as Shinigami possess which therefore makes you a peculiarly. Even amongst the Gotei 13, only four of us is made aware of this phenomenon, meaning that your father, too, was kept in the dark. We thought it best to take you under our wings before any of the risks become a reality.”

“Simply put, after thorough investigation of your father, we exploited his hatred for you so that you will be relinquished to us without him making a fuss. Additionally, in order not to arouse suspicion, we’ve made a false announcement to our fellow captains and subordinates. They know you to be my longtime lady-love whom I’ve decided to tie the knots with. A flourishing merchant such as your father would surely lust for publicity. He was only playing right into our hands by stating his one condition.”

Even though the bombardment of information is too much to process, now, you know with certainty that you are not necessarily rotten to the core, and that your stranger wife alongside her companions harbour no ill will towards you.

As she takes another dainty sip of the tea in her cup, you silently mirror her, mesmerised all the while by the grace and elegance with which she carries herself.

“Although an apology is in order for my sudden behaviour at the altar, as I’ve explained to you, displays of affection and physical touch are mandatory for the believability of our story. This marriage isn’t merely for show in that we have to talk and act as married couples do. Do try to put up with it.”

Talk and act as married couples do?

The implication alone has your cheeks ripening into cherries, the redness of which is only amplified by the unexpected words that go tumbling down your lips.

“I didn’t particularly mind the kiss, so an apology isn’t necessary.”

“Is that so?” The delicateness of her voice has a playful lilt to it, and it pleasantly tickles your ears. “Then, my dear wife, I’ll be counting on you from now on.”

“I- I’ll do my best.”

“My, my, aren’t you a good girl.” She wears a smile on her face that drips delight while you are painted red to the tips of your ears.

Good Girl.

Those two little words alone has single-handedly put you in a trance that the rest of the night passes in a blur. As far as you remember, the pair of you sip tea in silence until when she suggests retiring for the night, like a lost puppy, you follow her. Her quarters become your quarters and her futon, your futon because, as far as a married couple is concerned, living separately is out of the question.

Suffice to say, on the night of your wedding, you lie awake in bed, unaccustomed to the warmth of another body just inches away from yours. Amidst counting the tiles on the ceiling, you peek a look at your partner to find her at rest. Even asleep, she truly is a sight to behold. However, unbeknownst to you, she shares the same sentiment, and it is proven soon by the voice that calls out to you in the death of night.

“I’m surprised that you took me at my words without the faintest hint of scepticism.”

“Call it a gut feeling if you will but you seem to mean me no harm. Besides, I have nothing to lose by taking a chance.”

On the night of your wedding, you wear a smile to sleep.

Maybe,

Just maybe,

your chance at a better life, after all, is not entirely an impossibility.

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Unohana Retsu.

The name of your wife which you have forgotten to ask her directly has been revealed to you by her Lieutenant in the name of Isane Kotetsu.

Captain Unohana, as her subordinates address her as, is surprisingly a natural at playing lovers.

Likewise, touch-starved and thirsty for endearment, aside from shyness that stems from inexperience and her offhand compliments, you take on the role of a love-struck wife with much ease.

“My, my, darling, is that a proper way to see your wife off? How cold.”

She does a convincing job of sounding crestfallen as you walk her out of her estate, sending her off to work with only a wave of your hand.

Upon hearing her sigh, you walk up to her, letting your palms glide over the chest of your finely-dressed Captain. A kiss is demanded of you, and so, in the presence of her Lieutenant and a few other subordinates, you drop your lips to the apple of her cheek, murmuring your utterances into her fragrant skin.

“Do your best, Hana. I’ll be awaiting your return.”

Genuine surprise can be found in the widening of her eyes, albeit lasting only for a fraction of a second. And then, her lips are curving skyward, settling into a saccharine smile.

If the kiss that finds you on the tip of your nose, like the gentle flap of a butterfly’s wings, is not enough to sweep you off your feet, then the pad of the thumb that caresses the bone of your cheek certainly is. Ample, in fact.

“See you later, little flower.”

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Your wife has an unusual way of styling her beautiful long hair.

She tends to wear it in a thick braid, but instead of letting it dangle behind her back, she lets it hang below her chin almost in the form of a necklace. You will go as far as to say that it is one of her idiosyncratic features, for without it, her attire for work is incomplete. On idler days when she remains at the estate, her hair can be seen tied loosely at the small of her back.

When you have noticed how difficult it is to care for a hair of such thickness and length, you have expressed your desire to do it for her. To your delight, she has let you, and so, here you are, gingerly applying essential oil to a mane of dark hair as you comb it with great reverence.

You admire the way she sits, spine always straight, perfectly poised. The same goes for the voice that softly caresses your ears, warm and tender.

“How was your day?”

“Infinitely better than what I was used to,…” For an answer, it should suffice. And yet, “…but I’ve missed you, Hana.”

It may just be one of your flaws; you never know when to keep your mouth shut. Thankfully, she receives your divulgence with a sweet smile.

“My, you’re quite the charmer.”

Cheeks painted pink and heart thrumming giddily, you continue combing her hair. Surely, she is graced by the gods themselves; lush and healthy, her charcoal mane slips through your fingers like expensive silk.

“You called me Hana.”

“Oh! I- I did, yes. Since we’re supposed to be long time lovers, I thought it was only fitting for me to call you by a unique name. If you don’t find it agreeable, I’ll refrain from-”

“None of that. I’ve never been called a pet name, is all. It’s refreshing.”

Then, after a beat of silence, she chuckles. Until now, you have only seen her smile, having never heard her laugh or chuckle for that matter. It is the most wonderful sound, rich, warm, and the culprit behind your breath that has suddenly been stolen.

“Yachiru would like you.”

You do not know whether to rejoice or lament that such a precious sound stems from the thought of someone else. In the end, you settle on savouring it all the same.

Yachiru, whom you have the pleasure of meeting during your visit to your wife’s Ikebana Club, is quite the boisterous little lass. You feel silly and selfish in equal parts; silly for going green because of a child and selfish because you want to be the sole reason behind all the lovely sounds that she makes. On the other hand, as your wife has expected, the pink-haired girl takes an instant liking to you, sticking like glue to your side. Meanwhile, instead of paying attention to the real task at hand of arranging flowers, you end up being entranced by your wife’s gentle cadence and her distractingly gorgeous face.

When the name which you have uniquely chosen for your wife leaves your lips, Yachiru mimics you.

What you have not been expecting is for your wife to intervene.

“If you could refrain from calling me by that name Yachiru, I would appreciate it. I don’t mind you giving me a new nickname but this one is reserved for my wife. She alone calls me Hana, and I would like for it to remain that way.”

“My, Captain Unohana is very romantic!”

If you are not mistaken, the dreamy sigh comes from Matsumoto, the Lieutenant of the 10th division.

“I understand, Captain HaHa. Can I call you Captain HaHa?”

“By all means. As long as it isn’t Hana, I don’t mind.”

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More often than not, your wife’s placating smile is the testament to her benevolence as a healer, but there are times when she wields them as a weapon.

Having cultivated the habit of preparing lunchboxes for your wife and her Lieutenant, you deliver the homemade meals personally to her division. One of the things that you look forward to every day includes admiring your wife in her elements. Such little glimpses into her work life allows you to understand just how much of an influence she has on her subordinates.

Soft-spoken and kind-faced as the Captain of squad four is, even the rowdiest of Shinigami fear her; they regard her with much respect. You have yet to hear her raising her voice to someone, and even still, she has never had to repeat her will more than twice for the other person to obediently comply with it. There are people from the 11th division, who, according to the information that you have gathered, are supposed to be the most battle-hungry Soul Reapers in Seireitei, that at your wife’s gentle warning and excessively sweet smile will flee with their tails between their legs, leaving a trail of apologies in their wake.

“Oh my, treating me as if I’m some kind of ghost.”

Puzzled, she has wondered aloud, and you have found her expression heart-meltingly adorable.

During one of your visitations to her squad, you have also had the pleasure of befriending a special someone.

You remember marvelling at the giant sage green creature that is aloft; its form, very reminiscent of a manta ray. However, when you see someone climbing effortlessly down the back of the creature, you have been surprised, to say the least, to be greeted by the unmistakable voice of your wife.

Upon striding towards the pair of them, you fall prey to the surprise attack of an extremely wet tongue. Even though it leaves you resembling a drowned rat, what simmers inside you is the farthest from annoyance. If anything, you find the one-eyed giant quite lovable.

“Why, will you look at that.”

“What does it mean?”

“It means, sweet girl, that she likes you.”

Before you hug the bizarre creature, you peek a look at your wife. Only when you see the nod of her head do you advance.

“Oh! Right back at you…?” Another questioning look at your wife earns you her name. “Minazuki.”

“Miki, you adorable little munchkin!”

At your words, she emits a crooning sound that you are inclined to believe is her way of purring in pleasure.

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When your wife has some time on her hands, she has a habit of climbing mountains. It is as much a recreational activity as it is a hunt for medicinal herbs. Having been longing to accompany her during her excursions, you have, after much consideration, raised the question, only for her to readily agrees.

“Can I come?”

“I don’t see why not.”

The silence that cocoons the two of you is anything but unbearable as you amble abreast. Taking it as your opportunity, you voice the query that you have been mulling over for some time now.

“There’s something I’m curious about.”

“What are you curious about?”

“Why you?” When you steal a glance at her, you find her eyes on the track, face impassive. “There were four of you who were privy to the truth, correct? So, how come you were the one to marry me?”

Her response does not come until after a while, voice sounding serene as it usually does.

“The Captain-Commander is out of the question, and among the three of us, I was deemed the most suitable candidate. One doesn’t go out much due to how sickly he is and the other is- well, it’s unthinkable that he’ll settle for one person.”

“And what about you, Hana? Have you got no qualms?”

“Whatever the Captain-Commander asks of me, I do without question.”

Oh.

You have asked, and so she has answered. It certainly is not meant to hurt.

And yet,

“I see.”

“That, and I also happened to be the first person to learn of your existence.”

At this, you perk.

“You did? How?”

“Purely by chance, but that’s a story for another day. Now, come. The herbs I’m looking for are just up ahead.”

She teaches you about different herbs and you help her collect them, preening under her complimentary head-pats when you find the right plants, and becoming all the more hell-bent on seeking rarer herbs, for only then will you be rewarded with honey-dewed whispers. Upon stumbling across one such plant, in your excitement, you fail to see a hole in the ground as you briskly make your way through the thickets.

Needless to say, your recklessness leaves you with a strained ankle. It is your pained grunts that garner the attention of your wife. When she finds you limping, the discomfort apparent on your face, she helps you to a tree trunk. You are thankful for the arm that is stably wrapped around your waist for it halves the effort that you will otherwise have to exert.

No sooner has she sat you down onto the mossy trunk than she is kneeling before you. Taking your wounded foot into her hand, she gingerly lets it rest atop her thigh. Forefinger and thumb pluck your sock, peel it down, and doing so reveals your ankle where a bruise is already beginning to bloom.

As she works on your wound, you can feel the pads of her digits ghosting across the naked base of your calf. Her fingers, dainty in appearance, have strength in them along with callouses that you suspect are the by products of her years of sword training. Speaking of which, Minazuki, her Zanpakuto as she has taught you, Miki as you like to call her, is slung over one of your shoulders. Since her Lieutenant is absent, for today’s trip is you and your wife’s alone, you have happily taken the role of the Captain’s blade bearer.

Due to the injury that you have sustained, despite your reassuring that you are fine, your wife does not take no for an answer, and so, the expedition is cut short. Soon after the pair of you have mounted Minazuki, you fall victim to exhaustion, surrendering yourself to the clutches of sleep.

The first thing you notice upon opening your eyes is the shimmering sea of stars, with the first thing you hear being her voice that pulses warmly in your ears.

“Are you awake?”

“Hmm, where are we now?”

When you shift, you discover that your head is cushioned by her thighs.

“Not very far from home.”

You are suddenly awestruck by the vision that appears in your line of sight. Backdropped by the starry sky, she is truly a sight for sore eyes.

“How are you feeling?”

“My eyes feel hot.”

A palm finds home on your forehead. You cannot help but sigh dreamily at her cool touch that seems to instantly soothe the ache in your head.

“You have a touch of fever, I fear. Rest. I’ll wake you when we arrive.”

You can only hum, ready to succumb to slumber again. However, when you feel the withdrawal of her hand from your forehead, your fingers catch her wrist, emboldened by a feverish haze. You press it against your neck where the coolness of her flesh offers you sweet reprieve from your body’s heat. If you are not mistaken, you have felt the faintest sensation of a fingertip tracing the length of your nose before you drift.

She does, in fact, not wake you.

By the time you open your eyes, you are already under the comfort of a futon that smells distinctly of her.

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You do not know when it changes, but at one point, it does. Your marriage stops being an elaborate masquerade and starts becoming something more by the time you no longer need reminders to exercise intimacy. A kiss on her cheek, a palm on the small of her back, sweet-nothings dripping with honey; they come to you as easily as breathing, and she responds to you in kind as she always has. But then again, to be unreservedly honest, your actions, from the beginning until now, have never been absent of sincerity.

From sleeping entwined in each other’s arms to walking with your fingers intertwined, even in the absence of onlookers, in the privacy of your quarters, you behave as lovers do. Neither of you seem to notice the change, and if you do, neither of you bother to comment on it. It simply is the way it is.

“Oh, Hana, you’ve returned! Come here. Sit.”

“What is this?”

“I just thought that your feet could use some pampering after walking around all day.”

“My, you need not trouble yourself-”

“But that’s what married couples do. They look after each other.”

“Very well, then, if you insist.”

Adoration, ardour and nothing in between; that is how you sink to your knees before your deity. Raising her feet off the floor, you gingerly place them atop your thighs. When you slip the socks off her feet, you exercise both care and tenderness, barely suppressing the urge to press delicate kisses to her exquisitely dainty ankles. Once her feet are completely bare, you guide them into the bucket that is sitting in front of you. Under the warm water, you trace the little notches of her bone, run your fingertips along every dip and hill the way you want your lips to caress them.

Then, all too gently, you gather them once again into your lap where a towel awaits. You take your sweet time petting them dry, the desire to drench her porcelain skin in kisses now coming back with a vengeance. As if possessing a mind of their own, your hands slips beneath her uniform, fingers leaving playful caresses along the length of her shin.

Suddenly overwhelmingly thirsty, you wet your lips with the tip of your tongue before chancing a look at her. There is a silent question in your eyes, and she answers you with a nod of her head. As soon as the green light has been given, you carefully hike the skirt of her Shinigami uniform over her knee, allowing your fingers to knead the muscles in her calfs without interruptions.

It is true that when you have decided to give her feet a wash and a massage, you have no ulterior motives.

But now,

Now, it is entirely a different story.

The collision of your gazes sparks a flame in you.

Has the blue of her eyes always been this dark, you wonder.

*Knock*

“Captain Unohana, may I please come in?”

Hastily scrambling to your feet upon hearing Isane’s voice has you tripping over your own two feet. Your forthcoming fall is prevented by willowy fingers that latch onto your wrist. One thing leads to another, and before you know it, following a breathless “oomf”, you find yourself seated on the pillowy thighs of your wife.

Seemingly unfazed, she commands, an arm around your waist cradling you close to her chest.

“If it’s nothing important, Isane, I suggest you leave us be. My wife and I are currently in the middle of some important matters that urgently need attending to.”

“U-understood!”

It is beyond your control; your hands finding purchase on her shoulders, even more so the amicable slap that you deliver to her arm.

“Did you really have to phrase it like that?”

“Like what?”

Ah. There is no denying it. From the very first moment you behold this woman, you have fallen irrevocably in love with her.

“Hmm? Care to enlighten me?”

You do not. Care to enlighten her that is, for your lips have found hers, sampling her smile to see if it tastes as sweet as it looks. You have taken a bite out of the forbidden fruit, and there is no going back, although when you feel no reciprocation from her part, you pull back with a heavy heart.

The look on her face is indecipherable; she has always been difficult to read. Completely at a loss, you are tempted to blurt out that it has been a momentary lapse of judgement even though you know very well that it is anything but. The loudness of your rampaging thoughts is instantly lulled as soon as her lips seize yours, the fervent collision prompted by the hand that is holding you at the peak of your nape while wandering digits curl deliciously into your hair.

Likewise, greatly galvanised by the ravenous mouth that is feasting upon your lips, your fingers wander beneath her braid, and further still beneath the lapels of her uniform. It is as you are ghosting along the jut of her collarbones that your fingertips feel a patch of uneven skin just below the dip in her throat. As if electrocuted, she jolts, subsequently discarding you in the process of rising to her feet.

“You should leave.”

Leave? Leave where?

After all, this has become as much your home as it has been hers.

“Hana, I- did I do something wrong?”

“You should leave.”

Ah. Never have you thought that you will find yourself at the receiving end of the generous Captain’s genuine irritation.

As the last vestiges of warmth is entirely replaced by the chill of her stare, you decide that you will smile. You will smile for the both of you, as wide and as big as you can, a farewell to what could have been.

“I understand. I’m sorry.”

Delivering your utterances in the cheeriest voice that you can muster, you smile at her. You smile so broad that the uncomfortable stretch of your lips hurt your face.

But as soon as the door to her chamber closes with a thud behind your back, the first droplet of tear begins to fall.

════════ ∘◦ ✾ ◦∘ ════════

In a wicked twist of fate, you fall into the hands of malicious men who have all the intentions of maiming you beyond repair. It is drizzling, a night befitting your mood, as the cold droplets mingle with your warm tears.

There are hands, hands everywhere, tearing your clothes haphazardly off your body, hitting you when you struggle; your foot has caught one of your assailants in the crotch, and his payback comes in the form of kicks to your ribcage. Blood is leaking out of your nose from being brutally backhanded across your cheek. It forces you into a daze.

A whore. A wench. A witch.

Awful names have been called.

Four versus one; you are helpless against them. Your suffering is their satisfaction, but a rag doll in their heartless hands, as they manhandle you with a single minded purpose of ravishing you.

You feel hands on your thighs that are manipulating your body as they see fit.

You hear the rustles of fabric, frantic and foreboding.

In the face of danger, it is her face that you picture.

And then, you hear screams.

Alas, the raindrops are red, eerily reminiscent of blood.

Hands are retreating. Feet are scrambling.

And suddenly, you are alone.

With much difficulty, you sit up. When you bring your palm up to your face for examination, you find blood. Your eyes follow the scarlet trail on the ground only to be greeted by the lifeless eyes of the man who has kicked you with wild abandon. His body lies a few steps away from his head. Scattered messily across the ground are his companions, and mixed within them are parts of their bodies; a leg here, an arm there. In the middle of it all stands she, holding her blade with a head impaled on it like a grotesque skewer.

Ah. So, this. This is your Hana in her purest form, who has butchered them in cold blood as though they are mere cattle.

Such empty eyes. How merciless. How magnificent. You are not so much surprised as mesmerised. Such macabre display should scare you except that she has killed in order to save, and if nothing else, you feel cherished, you feel protected.

Sore all over as you are, you attempt to stand, immediately shaking on your legs like a newborn fawn.

“Hana.”

It is but a feeble croak that manages to bring her eyes to you all the same. In an instant, she is by your side.

Her hair is unusually undone, and it leaves the scar in the middle of her chest exposed. Surprise colours your features when her sword is unceremoniously dropped to the ground in order for her to slip free of her Captain Uniform. The white cloth is then gingerly draped over your frame which is as good as bare. Your clothes are in tatters, tears and bruises marring your features, and for once, she seems to be at a loss for words.

Although her mien betrays nothing, behind those unfeeling eyes, you can practically see the cogs turning in her head. While she appears to be in a dilemma, you take the initiative to approach her, fingers gripping the dark fabric of her Shinigami uniform white-knuckled tight.

Your forehead collapses onto her shoulder before you whisper against the hummingbird flutter of her pulse.

“Hold me, Hana. I need you to hold me, please.”

And hold you, she does. Oh, how she does, as you weep and weep and weep until with the drying of your tears, your consciousness, too, fades.

════════ ∘◦ ✾ ◦∘ ════════

“Whatever you do after the wedding is no concern of mine. Didn’t you say it so yourself?”

“Only because I thought she’ll be trea-”

“Whatever you do after the wedding is no concern of mine. Didn’t you say it so yourself?”

“Please. Please, spare me. I beg of you. Please.” The man before Unohana grovels at her feet. “I’ll give you whatever you want. Please.”

“Whatever I want?”

A series of frantic nods ensue. She cannot care less if he looks a crying mess. His state of dress: posh and pristine, his state of being: without a nick, only reminds her all the more of you, bloody and bruised, and her blood boils. Oh, how her blood boils!

“What I want is your head!”

“What I want is your heart!”

“What I want is you sliced in half!”

Looming over the cowering excuse of a man, she sinks her sword into his chest, inch after inch of blood-drenched blade penetrating his flesh.

“Well? Do you think you can give me what I want?”

“Please. I- I’m sorry. Have- have mercy.”

“Mercy, you say?” The moonless night echoes with a maniacal laughter, dark and haunting. “How laughable!”

“No matter, you will die at my hands. And you will die tonight. My bloodlust will not be sated unless you die. So, die you will whether you like it or not.”

════════ ∘◦ ✾ ◦∘ ════════

“I received a letter this morning.” You speak into her chest as you lie cocooned in her arms. “Father has passed.”

“Does it upset you?”

A fervent shake of your head should suffice for an answer. Still, you voice your reason.

“He may have been my mother’s devoted husband but he was never my father.”

Silence reigns. Her fingers trace patterns on the small of your back while your face nuzzles the little notch of her throat.

“Thank you, Hana, for being my sunshine after the rain.”

In a show of sincerity, you press a delicate kiss to the scar beneath your lips. When your face is brought out of its safe little cocoon, it is only so that she can take a bite out of the sweet, succulent fruit. She conquers your lips in the same way she has conquered your heart, and all too happily, you let her consume you. Body, mind and soul.

By these hands that are no stranger to bloodshed, you have been healed. In more ways than one.

In these arms that are capable of destruction, you have found solace.

A healer or a killer, Retsu or Yachiru, she is your beloved wife all the same, and you intend to cherish her for all that she is.

In sickness and in health.

In good time and in bad.

In perpetuity. In tandem.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

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madraleen · 2 months

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Delicious in Dungeon - Ryōko Kui Vol.9: The one where I write a Mithrun essay.

-mithrun cover! beautiful, magnificent, extraordinary, sublime-

-the way marcille insta-changes her vibes, i relate to it so much, i see myself in so many of her expressions

-SPILL IT OUT, MARCILLE! TELL US ABOUT YOUR PAST AND YOUR DREAM! ffs, keeping silent after drilling chil like that

-laios and marcille are so sweet together

-eheheheheheehe laios' ideal is marcille, cute cute cute

-MONSTER marcille is laios' ideal?! boy would he find his place on tumblr

-...do we trust the winged lion, do we really? do we trust "power"? i can't tell.

-is that. is that baby kabru? HE'S SO CUTE

-mithrun, sir, are you aware that you are the most beautiful character in the manga, sir?

-AHAHAAHA NO, "IDENTICAL" KABRU ACCORDING TO MITHRUN OH NO

-the fact that mithrun has no idea what kabru looks like but knows there's a mushroom around his leg

-yes, a week of just kabru and mithrun, that's all i want, that's great

-kabru: pls tell me how i can tend to you properly. mithrun: *proceeds to tell him his entire backstory* like, you didn't have to, my man. you didn't have to.

-the "others. others. mithrun" is me when reading dunmeshi

-aw past mithrun has longer hair, lil bb

-mithrun going from "i can't sleep without spells or potions" to just dropping asleep on the floor, everyone say "thank you kabru"

-"barometz soup. ingredients: barometz." i burst out laughing. senshi is sensing this and crying somewhere out there

-surely you can't expect me to see mithrun in his domestic era with his disheveled hair and his little bow scarf and his little spoon and his puffy sleeves and not love him? surely?

-wait so, mithrun's beloved is still alive out there, and she's with his brother?

-i wonder what mithrun’s non-abridged story is.

-lol at how the elves feared for mithrun's well-being, when instead they should have been fearing his spilling every single ancient secret to a guy he just met with arguably conflicting interests

-NO RESCUE, NO RESCUE I SAY, JUST KABRU AND MITHRUN!

-ah. oh man. mithrun asking kabru "what do you want to do?" hit me some way

-MITHRUN LOOKS SO SOFT WHEN HE TELLS KABRU "right. then let's do that." MY HEART! OH MY GOSH MITHRUN IS STAYING WITH KABRU. and kabru doesn't even question it, lmao, "of course my elf man would stay with me, wdym"

-okay, hold up though. i'm interested in how mithrun makes choices like that without desires. can choices be completely devoid of desire? if you choose something over something else, especially so blatantly, like mithrun choosing kabru over the expected course of things, ie his rejoining the canaries, that entails preference, and doesn't preference correlate to a want, to an extent? we don't seem to be differentiating between want and desire, so... is the want in such choices so minuscule that it doesn't count as a want? you could argue that choosing isn't necessarily wanting- you could be neutral about all choices and just pick one to get it over with, but mithrun wasn't asked to choose. kabru didn't invite him along, he didn't even imply he wanted him along. the canaries were like "come, captain, pspspsps" and mithrun asked kabru what *he* wanted, and then mithrun's actions were like "well, i don't have wants, but i'll trust *his* wants over my team's that i've known for years if not decades, so... bye bitches." which is heartwarming, to say the least, for someone like me who loves the mithrun/kabru duo.

or maybe, is mithrun’s choice completely driven by desire for revenge? but that would be easier to obtain if he stayed with the canaries. or could it be an extension of mithrun needing things and his actions being dictated by those things, just without mithrun registering consciously that he needs these things? eg his body collapses when he needs rest, but in *his* perception, he just collapses randomly, he doesn't register the need for rest. so maybe something in him needs to confide his backstory to kabru, needs to join kabru, and it doesn't register consciously as a need, he doesn't care to know the reason for acting on it, but his actions/choices are dictated by it all the same. is this elaborated on later and i'm babbling nonsense, or is it never addressed and i'm just overthinking it. i wonder.

-on a lighter note, i really love the tidbits of "meanwhile laios' party" 'cause it's so cool seeing "oh this is why they found the fire, this is why the dullahan lacked a horse" etc.

#delicious in dungeon #delicious in dungeon manga #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi manga #manga commentary

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

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Rules: post 10 of your favourite comfort movies then tag 10 people.

I got tagged most recently by @every-aj-needs-an-angel (but I also think I got tagged a while back by a few people and I fell way behind on tags)

1. Pride and Prejudice (2005) - I mean we all know why. If you don’t:

2. Captain America: Civil War - I won’t be able to apologize for this. It’s just the most romantic bullshit a person can see. A man going against his country, the world, his friends, for his long lost love? Sigh.

3. Miracle - It’s hockey. I dunno what else I have to say.

4. The Breakfast Club - If you haven’t watched it, how.

5. Beauty and the Beast - This has been my favorite original Disney princess movie since I was maybe four and I learned to read? I thought Belle was amazing and I genuinely told my mom at six years old that I hoped my husband had a big library. What a dreamer.

6. The Princess Diaries - My sister and I watch this almost once a month. I blame naming Eddie’s daughter after Mia Thermopolis because I had just watched it again.

7. Matilda - This one is depressing when you think about it, but my family used to call me Matilda because I would prefer to just sit in my room and read. And then Harry Styles wrote the song and I was like…hmmm that’s something to unpack…and then I just started watching the movie when I was sad.

8. 10 Things I Hate About You - I mean.

9. Hook - I don’t know how many times I’ve watched this movie, but it’s gotta be in the triple digits.

10. Jumanji (1995) - I don’t have anything against the new one, but the original is just unparalleled. You just can’t compete with Robin Williams.

Now, keep in mind that I RARELY watch anything at all, so when I’m watching these, something is very wrong 😂

No pressure tags: @simplebtromance @zerokrox-blog @izzy2210 @estrellami-1 (I think you may have tagged me in this a while ago too so ignore this if you did 😭) @legitcookie @sidekick-hero @steves-strapcollection @wormdebut (or work on your gd fic ffs) @wynnyfryd @messessentialist

#tag game #personal #not steddie

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kazoosandfannypacks · 2 years

Note

for that 3-sentence fic game, if you’re feeling up to it…captain swan in the classic coffee shop au?

Emma Swan couldn't imagine getting her morning coffee anywhere else than at The Java Roger. She tried to tell herself that she liked the atmosphere, the fact that they had her order ready before she had a chance to say it, the little swan drawn on her cup each morning instead of her name, or how perfectly they'd figured out the ratio of coffee to chocolate to cinnamon.

But she knew the real reason for her daily patronage was to start the day right- with a smile and a "Good morning, Swan" from her favorite barista. ☕

#once upon a time #killian jones #ouat #emma swan #captain swan #kazzy writes #cs ff #fanfiction #kazzy saves for later #once upon a time season 2 #ah the beauty of run-on (but still grammatically correct) sentences

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jayweek · 2 months

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'Just the Two of Us' - where two best friends who secretly have feelings for each other go camping, but they didn’t expect to fall under the effect of a rare spell.

This is just for entertainment. I wanted to return to creative writing in honor of my teenage years. It’s a totally fictional universe. Thank you! Have fun! Stream xo! <3

genre: fluff, friends to lovers. sunghoon ff. words in this chapter: 1.3k. estimated time for reading: between 5 to 10/11 minutes.

tw: mention of a past car accident with no details.

Welcome! You are on the first chapter (1/2). Final chapter here 💌

________

Y/N pov.

"I want you to be happier, Y/N," Sunghoon insisted, trying to get me out of the house. After a car accident I was in, I don’t feel safe going out.

"But where would I go? I don’t even want to hear noisy cars or be in this city. Everything tires me out here..."

Sunghoon and I have been best friends since high school. We share our fears and hopes for the future. But we are more private about our romantic relationships. Well, I know why I don’t talk to him about my so-called 'romantic relationships.' But ever since, Sunghoon has always been a very reserved guy, and what scares me the most is that I think he must have astronomical standards to date someone. He always rejected offers from other girls, even from boys, who confessed their feelings to him. He wasn’t interested in the cheerleader, the senior top of class girl, or the captain of the football team. So, what’s his type?

"Y/N?" he woke me from my thoughts, laughing. "Daydreaming? Let me know when you land."

"Oh, I was just thinking a bit... so what’s your plan? Where are we going?"

"We’re going camping!" - he seems very happy about it!

"Camping? But what about wild animals?"

"Oh, Y/N, stop being such a scaredy-cat, I won’t let you die from mosquito bites!" he laughed uncontrollably.

I thought a bit about the situation... It couldn’t be that bad. And Sung always took good care of me.

"Okay. I’m only going because I know it’s because you want to see me better." - I tried to smile even I'm a bit scared of the bears in the forest. I heard they were here when I was a child!

"Yes! Finally!" - he cheered.

______

The following Saturday, the best friends were ready!

Y/N left her house, messaging Sunghoon that she would be a bit late to the street they agreed on because she had to buy extra repellent.

Sunghoon planned for them to camp in a permitted area near the forest reserve. Since the way there was along a quiet, almost deserted road, and close enough that the two could walk there, without needing any other kind of transportation.

Sunghoon only brought one tent, hoping Y/N would forget hers. He laughed at this thought, not taking it seriously because he thinks something like that would never really happen since Y/N is overly prepared for all possible unforeseen events.

Y/N arrived overloaded with equipment, food, blankets, repellents, and even a baseball bat.

"You’re not planning to kill me with that baseball bat, are you?" he said, laughing.

"Of course not, idiot," she joked. "It’s in case I have to defend you from a huge bear!"

"I already told you, silly!" he joked. "There are no bears here, I assure you."

"Then let’s go already because this is heavy!"

They shared the load and began their walk to the plain where they would set up their tents. Which were two.

________

Arriving at the camping spot, Y/N was amazed at her best friend’s choice. The place indeed seemed tranquil and ideal for healing a stressed heart. The grass looked freshly mowed. The trees were varied and well-maintained, but most were tall eucalyptus. Other considerable-sized trees were apple trees. The chosen plain for our tents seemed quite safe; and the best part was that it was reasonably close to a beautiful lagoon where the ducks from the environmental reserve usually swam a bit during the day. Since they are harmless animals, they have a lot of freedom to walk around the plain.

_______

Sunghoon pov.

"I brought the sweets we love!" I said, showing the brigadeiros and beijinhos I made this afternoon for our camping trip.

"Wow, it’s been a while!"

S/N smiled, probably remembering that we haven’t made these sweets in a long time, as we’ve been a bit busier with the end of the college semester approaching.

When we were high school students, we made these sweets to sell, and we were great! The best! Were we closer before? Why do I feel differently about her now? I think it’s because we’re adults now. Despite Y/N’s playful expression, I still feel she’s more mature than I am. Truly a woman of courage...

"So, S/N... are you into anyone?"

She choked on the brigadeiro.

"No, why? Are you into someone? Need help?" - she seems excited talking about love.

She was more alert than ever with that question I asked... it was to be expected, we never talked about these things despite being so close in many other aspects. Our humor matches, our future plans have similar visions, and all of this is very... tempting for me... because I feel like I don’t want to connect with anyone else but Y/N. Not that I’m obsessed with her. But since I have her in my life, I feel like I don’t need anyone else. She’s everything I’ve always wanted in a person... wait... oh no!

"Looks like you’re really in love! Smiling while thinking!"

"Stop being silly, you know I don’t fall in love easily! Silly!" I paused to think a bit more. "You’re the one crushing on Jake, your neighbor!"

"Jake? Gross! Ew!"

She squirmed, laughing with a disgusted expression. One of the funniest things I’ve ever seen! Y/N, please don’t give me hope... Wait, she’s my best friend, I can’t fall for her.

"You never thought of him differently, Y/N? I’m sure he feels something for you."

"Are you jealous?" she said, laughing. "He’s not my type, Sung."

"Of course, I’m not jealous, I’m just worried because neither of us ever 'gets out of the rut'." My tone calmed a bit, needing to stop joking because I really wanted to understand this phenomenon happening to us.

"True... I thought about that too recently! Do you have high standards for liking someone?" - Wait. Does she thinks about it too?

"Me? No... I don’t think so. I just don’t want to waste time on something that isn’t good for me. I want to be 100% sure of what I’m getting into." - I said.

"Then, maybe we’re still single because something very special awaits us!" - she is hopeful!

"I hope so!" - I really hope.

"Oh! I didn’t know you were so romantic, Sung!"

She said, smiling sweetly and lightly hitting my shoulder. She sounds like she really cares about love. Almost a romantic too, I guess!

The night was almost starting to fall, so I had to hurry to set up the tents and the fire before it got too cold.

"Ah! Please! Love won’t set up my tents, silly!"

We joked as we always did. Then, we ate one or two more brigadeiros, and I went to work on our tents.

"I’ll go get firewood and anything for the fire over there!"

"Go ahead, brave lady!"

She stuck her tongue out at me and went to look for firewood. I was really surprised at how easily she got used to the place. Where are the bears now, huh?

________

Sunghoon began setting up the tents. There was a stake that confused him while setting up the first tent. He left the instruction manual at home, thinking he wouldn’t need it since it’s a technically simple tent to set up. So he started walking around with the stake on the ground, thinking where it would be suitable. He walked around three times to the left and twice to the right and finally found the correct spot for the tent stake and drove it into the ground.

After, he heard a branch snap. And another. And another one. He got really scared at the third one, his heart racing, like having a sudden realization, an epiphany. He thought it was S/N breaking the wood for the fire, but the third snap really seemed more like it was from a bear. He shook his head, as there are no bears in this region. It couldn’t be that. Some specific words came back to his mind, "Then, maybe we’re still single because something very special awaits us!" and he felt a shiver down his arms.

"Oh! I must really be cold."

______

S/N pov.

I felt a strange chill down my arms. I think it’s time to find Sunghoon and give him this firewood.

#enhypen x female reader #enhypen fanfiction #enha imagines #sunghoon headcanons #enhypen ff #enhypen fluff #enhypen x y/n #sunghoon au #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop ff

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tiofrean · 2 years

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Oh boy... OH BOY... I was reading through comments and tags under that Flint vs. Stede post (and before that in Silver vs. Oluwande post) and OH BOY RANT INCOMING

Feel free to ignore. No, I'm prickly about this.

I LOVE how people are like "Black Sails fans are so mean why are they like that T.T ?" in the tags and comments.

LET ME TELL YOU.

So we have this show that has been marginalized and has been pushed to the side for years. A show that has excellent plot, wonderful intrigue, magnificent representation and well-written, 3D characters that are complex and relatable. You get your edgy queer men (whether you want to characterize Flint as gay or bi, doesn't change the fact that he likes dick whichever way), you get your edgy queer girls (Anne), you get your flamboyant whatever-the-fuck-Jack-Rackham-is (<3), you get sweet gays (Thomas), you get confused bisexuals (Eleanor, Silver), you get straight sweets (Miranda) and straight angery dicks (Woodes Rogers), and competent, edgy straights (Vane). Oh! A competent, master-of-the-house lesbian? Check (Max). You even have asexuals, or that is what I shall forever classify Billy as. You have a f/f sex scene in the first damn episode, ffs. You get threesomes (sexual, romantic), you get couples, you even have Silver in a brothel orgy.

But sexual representation is not ALL! You get goofy pirates (Jack Rackham), you get serious pirates (Blackbeard), you get balls of rage (Flint), you get chill, laid-back sea dogs (Gates), you get competent little weasels (Silver), you get incompetent rats (Dufrense). You also have marvelous extras and side characters (Beauclerc the marksman, Captain Fruit-Fruit, Idelle... OHMYGOD IDELLE <3333).

There's the political plot that's historically accurate, the story's plot that's Flint's big gay rage, there's the sociological context of being painted as a monster, there's the gold hunt, there are ships correctly operated by crews of more than five fucking people, there are guns, blood and realistic injuries. You get quotations and allusions to Shakespeare, Cervantes, Julius Caesar, Marcus Fucking Aurelius, a metric ton of other classical writers. You get so many tropes done right it's astonishing and too effing long to list them all here.

On top of that, there is the picturesque landscape, absolutely gorgeous ships and very accurate portrayal of how life looked back then.

We had to defend that show when it first came out, the actors had to fucking fight homophobic assholes upon the airing of season two (IMAGINE THAT), people who loved it had a hard time going around, although admittedly it's a "fandom" hard time, not a "real life" hard time. We persisted, we persevered, and now we're here, clinging to what's left of our fandom, because we are admittedly all over the place and we don't have "troops" on any one social media, which makes our numbers small in comparison to other fandoms, and makes fandom interactions very limited.

Now imagine that there aired a show... a pirate show promising a lot. And then the show turned out to be an office-type comedy with no lesbian/bi women representation (I may be wrong, but I did watch it out of curiosity, didn't see any, just guys). A show that the whole plot of is just a rendition of the Beauty and the Beast for pirate times with so many historical inaccuracies (couching your crew like a bunch of office workers? Plz. The way they speak and the concepts they talk of that weren't there? It's like they were sitting around a fire, holding hands and singing kumbaya). And don't get me wrong, there's place for those shows as well, and maybe it works for you (and great for you too!).

We tried to ignore it, really we did. We basically gave it the eyebrow-raise-huff-ignore thing that you do on the internet when you want someone to enjoy their stuff and are not interested in it yourself.

But you know what happened? Suddenly there were people on twitter tagging everyone and their dog from Black Sails with renditions of Flint/Izzy (Izzy who comes across as an extreme asshole at best and a homophobic shit at worst and you can't fault people for reading it like this). Let that sink in - our fandom babe Flint, who had his whole life ruined due to homophobia and homophobic assholes is suddenly being shipped with a guy who suspiciously fits the description a bit too much for our tastes. Wouldn't you get angry? Of course you would, we're all very protective of our babes. We are, you are, everyone is. We asked you not to do this, and while I admit that hurling curses your way might not have been the most polite way of asking you to stop, the message was clear enough. What does OFMD fandom do? They all double down. Double fucking down on fanfiction and tagging everything in BS again, pairing Flint and Izzy together, writing things way out of the realm of any possibilities because most of the writers didn't watch BS (I did read their comments on that. They weren't even sorry). If you take such character and throw him into a work of art that can and will be seen as controversial, you should at least have the decency to do your homework on the original work he comes from. Otherwise, to our eyes, you're taking the most wronged man from our beloved show, wronged due to his sexuality, and throw him together with a literal asshole just to see them fuck because they would look pretty (and that's an actual comment from one of the artists, I shit you not). Wouldn't you feel a bit angry about that? I bet you would.

What's worse, people loving Black Sails and not liking OFMD usually point out how narrow the representation is, how improbable the show is and how they're not remotely invested in the plot. It's a cheesy show for your average Sunday afternoon, don't make it into something it's not. It's not a political statement any more than Guess The Tune is.

What's more, when I've seen attempts at people pointing out the obvious flaws in plot, in logic (how many people crew that ship exactly? How is he not dead after being stabbed clean through with a sword?), all we've gotten was "Oh it's not that type of show, OBVIOUSLY", "it's just a comedy, duh" and my personal favorite "you just DON'T UNDERSTAND IT BOOMER". (I'm a late Millennial, thx). Every attempt was chucked out the window. What got me most, tho, was the high praise of OFMD IS THE FIRST SHOW TO [insert whatever queer thing it did supposedly]. No, it's not. There was even a post on twitter that debunked all those claims one by one. I get it, you're happy that you got your gay pirates, good for you. But give credit where credit's due, otherwise you're gonna piss off a lot of people. People who watched our show struggle and crawl so that your show can run today and be fine and accepted widely.

And personally, I felt disappointed watching it because of the lack of representation. Disappointed that Ed turned out to be just as rainbowy as Stede. Don't get me wrong, I don't have anything against rainbowy, ultra-sweet characters that are big softies. I love them. But not everyone in the lgbtq community is like that. Actually, it's the minority. There are your sweets, there are your glittery rainbows, but the majority is on the more... inconspicuous part of the scale. And there are edgy people (like myself) who don't like glitter, pink, feathers, fluff and a shitton of other things this show had in abundance. You know what made me wince while watching? When I realized that the only person who I could remotely like for the way they weren't so glittery-rainbowy-sweet was Izzy, and I hated him because he was an asshole. Even Jim got the fluffy af oranges arch. So not my (and others') cup of tea.

So yeah, our recent anger and rabidity is not based solely on one post about an insignificant poll (that you're winning only because our fandom is significantly smaller and most people are dispersed between different sites). It's all those things combined and it's the result of them.

And no, I'm not going to finish it with a "please forgive us if we seem a bit angery, we're coping". Flint wouldn't.

#black sails #rant #im not sorry #flint vs stede #silver vs oluwande #ofmd #the only time im using that tag #were angry and heres why

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adrift-in-thyme · 1 year

Text

Day 18: Can’t Stay Awake (Warriors & Fierce Deity)

Ao3 link

Cw for the usual blood and injury

————————

The world is going fuzzy.

Warriors shoves himself up onto his forearms, gritting his teeth against the pain. He can’t even tell where it’s coming from now. It’s everywhere, burning and aching, wrapped like a vice around his body.

He only remains upright for a moment before he collapses once more. Tears and blood and rainwater run down his face to mix with the muddied ground.

This battle was meant to be easy–a quick clean-up of a monster camp, in and out faster than their enemies could react. But there had been more of them than he’d expected, too many, all with black blood and unnatural strength. And then the guardians had come, crawling towards them like gargantuan spiders, and he and Time hadn’t stood a chance.

Time.

Warriors blinks, fighting to keep his eyes open. He has to find him, has to help him before it's too late.

He tries again, slipping and sliding in the mud as he struggles to rise onto his hands and knees. But the movement sends him into a coughing fit that wracks his abused body, and catches the attention of a nearby bokoblin. The monster leaps toward him, bringing its club down across his shoulders, in one, quick movement. And Warriors ends up right back where he started, a cry on his lips, spots of black and gray dancing before his eyes.

The beast hits him again, for good measure, this time eliciting a scream as its weapon connects with an already wounded area, sending shards of nauseating pain up and down the captain’s body. He shudders.

“Sprite–” It comes out as little more than a choked, hoarse whisper. Even if Time is nearby, there’s only a slim chance he would hear it. But he doesn’t have the strength to scream, he doesn’t even have the strength to try and get up again. The bokoblin is waddling away now, he can hear its feet squishing in the soft earth, but the rest of his energy fled with that last attempt.

It’s over. No matter how badly he wants to keep fighting, that is no longer an option.

Warriors drags in a breath and it rattles in his lungs.

“I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. If he had known what awaited them, scouted out beforehand, if he had been more prepared…

He’s always prepared, always diligent, so why did this time have to be different?

The sound of clanking metal fills his ears, and Warriors pries his protesting eyes open. Before him stands a guardian, its swirling blue eye staring down at him. It lifts one of its legs and brings it down, claws digging into his back, and Warriors chokes on another scream. Blood and bile and mud fill his mouth, and he tries to move, tries to break away. But his body remains stubbornly uncooperative, and the guardian holds him fast.

A crimson laser activates, aimed directly at his head, and Warriors stares up at it, feeling almost drunk with pain and exhaustion. The colors are smudged and smeared by rain and tears, oddly vibrant against the backdrop of gray. They’re beautiful, mesmerizing even. The blue almost matches Artemis’ eyes.

Warriors manages to draw another thin gasp. His mind is shutting down now, following the example the rest of him has set.

The claw presses down even harder, but he doesn’t bother to try and pull away. The air grows hot with the energy of the laser. Any moment now, everything will come to a screeching halt.

It doesn’t quite feel right that after so many scrapes with death, this will be the way he goes. Not even in his own Hyrule, lying among the damp grass in a place he doesn’t even know the name ff, his little brother out of sight and out of reach. If he was going to go down, he at least hoped he would save someone in the process. But apparently, that was too much to ask.

He supposes the only thing that really fits is the battle. He always expected to draw his last breaths to the sound of whistling arrows, screaming monsters, and the clang of swords. The whir of the laser is just a stand-in for those.

Distantly, he wonders if there’s war in the afterlife. Desperately, he hopes there isn’t. Maybe, if he’s lucky it’ll look like Lon Lon Ranch–all green fields and blue sky, the laughter of his brothers reaching his ears on the wings of the wind. Maybe, if he’s lucky, one day Artemis will find him there.

The air is so tense and hot now, it’s near to bursting. Warriors’ eyes drift closed.

Any moment…

“Do not let go yet, little one.”

The voice comes to him as though through a dream. There’s a crash and a light so bright he can see it through his eyelids. Then, someone lifts him, gentle yet strong. Pain rockets through him and Warriors groans.

“I apologize,” says the voice again, rumbling like thunder across the heavens. “I forgot how fragile Hylian bodies are. I will try to be gentler.”

And he knows that voice, even in his half-conscious state. It brings with it memories of being held in the arms of a god, as he shivered from the latest nightmare; of firm hands supporting him as he limped away from a battle; of blindingly white eyes boring into his, as he ran through his latest strategy, terrifying and infinitely knowledgeable and somehow almost…fatherly.

Dazedly, Warriors blinks his eyes open. “F-fierce?”

It's merely a croak, yet the deity hears him anyway. His lips lift in a ghost of a smile.

“It has been too long, captain.”

Warriors swallows, drags in another breath. It’s growing harder with each moment.

“Time?”

“Do not trouble yourself. Link is safe.”

The deity brushes a stray lock of hair out of his eyes, then drapes his scarf over his body like a blanket. Shifting to situate Warriors a bit more comfortably in his arms, he begins to walk.

“He knew he could not care for you in his present state, so he tasked me with doing it in his stead. Rest assured, that as soon as I have gotten you to safety, I will release him.”

Warriors nods and lets his eyes slip closed again. Every movement hurts, and yet, even still in Fierce’s arms, he feels warm and secure. Strange, feeling that way about a war god.

“Do not fall asleep, little one,” The deity warns. “With the severity of your injuries, it could prove fatal. Neither Link nor I wish to lose you.”

And Warriors has seen wounded soldiers fall asleep and never awake. He understands the danger well. But he’s consumed by bone-deep, mind-numbing exhaustion. Surely, drifting off couldn’t hurt. He’s survived for this long, hasn’t he?

Fierce is walking faster now. The wind ruffles Warriors’ hair as he strides along, no doubt heading back toward camp.

“Tell me, little one, how is the Princess? Is she well? Have you married yet?”

That question is just shocking enough to break through the haze.

Warriors cracks an eye open, with a small chuckle. “N-no, not…not yet.”

“Ah.” Fierce nods, understandingly. “You are still planning how to propose then? It took Link quite a while to plan his proposal. He wanted it to be perfect.”

The slightest of smiles quirks Warriors’ lips. “Re-really?”

He can see it now–Time planning out every intricate detail with the same attention he always did with his more elaborate pranks.

“Indeed. If I remember correctly, he discussed many of his plans with his horse. He did talk to us a bit, as well, though I don’t believe he truly realized he was doing it.”

Warriors closes his eyes once more, wincing as one of the deity’s long strides jostles his wounds.

“That…sounds like Sp-sprite.”

As a child, the hero had always had a habit of muttering to his masks when he thought no one was looking. The horse though, that’s new…at least to him. Maybe when they get back to camp, he’ll tease him about it.

But right now, he would really rather sleep.

There’s a stretch of silence, where Warriors grows steadily closer to the edge of oblivion. Then, the deity speaks up again.

“Little one, please, we are nearly there. You may rest once you have drunk a potion, not before.”

“But ‘m tired,” he mumbles. “Hurts to st-stay ‘wake.”

A hand brushes his hair from his face again and he leans into the touch. He’s dangerously near unconsciousness now, teetering over the chasm. One, tiny nudge and he’ll be gone.

“I know it hurts, little one. But you must try.”

He’s well past trying, however. The last thing he hears is someone shouting and then he plunges into darkness.

#febuwhump2023 #febuwhumpday18 #blood and injury #linkeduniverse #lu warriors #lu fierce deity #fierce dadity #trin writes #I told myself I would lay off the warriors whump for the rest of these prompts #but between him and time I’m hopeless #those two just keep begging to be written #it’s a real problem #at this rate my favoritism will be plain to see

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jtl-fics · 1 year

Text

Fluent Freshman - Part 28

FF does not like being on pain medication.

Everything feels floaty and it is so hard to focus on anything around him.

He’s almost glad that his Gran has given him something to focus on that something being helping her sell her lie to the Foxes that she only knows Polish. Coach Wymack must know but the man is a steel trap and FF finds himself envying his Gran that HER secret keeper is Coach Wymack.

“Smithy! My sweet beautiful idiot!” Nicky cries when Gran gives Wymack the OK for them to come back in. FF finds himself on the receiving end of 2 forehead kisses and a kiss to each of his cheeks from Nicky. “Next time you see a crazy mafia hitman looking to kidnap me you just grab me and RUN.” He orders pointedly, “No more cool guy shit where you take ‘em out in the weird sex alley.” He runs his fingers through FF’s hair and…

Yeah it’s okay that Nicky is the one that knows.

Nicky is so nice.

“What about Aaron?” FF asks.

“If Romero could grab Aaron when he is in whacky inflatable tube mode then I don’t think he’d be taken out by you and Andrew.” Nicky says with a watery smile.

“Hey.” Aaron’s voice is offended.

“Learn to dance at a club already. We’ve been going for years.” Nicky shoots back but never takes his eyes off of FF’s face.

“I dance just fine. I’m better than Kevin.” Aaron argues.

“Hey.” Kevin’s voice is offended.

“You are better than Kevin, but that’s not a real standard of good.” Nicky dismisses, “Regardless, next time grab me and I’ll grab Aaron and the three of us can hide literally anywhere other than the weird sex alley. We could go to the back room with Roland or, if it means you not ending up in the hospital with a stab wound, I would even tolerate hiding down in the straight swingers club in the basement.” Nicky says.

He sees Andrew and Captain Neil tense off to the side.

Oh, that’s right.

Oh fun another lie for him to focus on instead of feeling floaty. Gran always talked about the virtue of telling the truth but the only thing set free would be Nicky in a club that he’s not supposed to know about.

“I wouldn’t ask that of you Nicky.” FF says instead.

Nicky laughs and kisses his cheek one more time. “You’re my favorite family member now. Sorry Aaron, you’ve made me endure the horrors of a heterosexual relationship for too long.” Nicky says stroking FF’s face as he looks up to where FF assumes Aaron is.

“Hey.” Aaron says in the exact same way he said earlier.

“Andrew-“ Nicky starts but is cut off.

“I don’t care.”

“That’s the spirit.” Nicky says, “Neil-“

“Nicky, I also don’t care.”

“At least you have one another to support each other.”

“Wait, what about me?” Kevin asks.

“You won’t even LEARN the family language Kevin, you were NEVER in the running for my favorite.” Nicky dismisses and doesn’t bother to turn back to the “So Smithy is my favorite family member now with Aras coming in second.”

Two things strike FF in the wake of family conversation.

First, when in the world did Kevin get here? Why is he here? Is he going to ask the doctors to run tests on FF to figure out stealth mode?

Second, Nicky just used his Gran’s nickname. The nickname that causes FF no small amount of embarrassment. It was a youthful indiscretion! He had thought he understood Lithuanian quite well! He had wanted to impress his Great Gran and his Gran with his knowledge.

“You’re looking pale Smith, do you need more pain medication?” Captain Neil asks.

“No, I’m fine.” He is pretty sure that pain meds can’t numb the psychological pain of his friends hearing about his youthful mistakes and he doesn’t care how bad his stomach is going to hurt he wants to only take the absolute minimum amount of pain meds required to get through this so he can stop floating.

Having friends nearby makes it so much easier.

Conversations go on with him and around him. He’s tired still from everything and when a nurse comes in to try and give him more pain medication he declines. All present in the room except Gran try to convince him to take it but he declines all but the most minor amount to take the edge off.

He finally realizes that Kevin had not been with them and asks why the hell he’s here. He gets an answer that makes him reconsider being on any pain medication at all because it doesn’t really make any sense. Why in the world is Kevin telling him not to trust the nutritionist?

Neil lets him know that the FBI are going to be coming around at some point to talk to him. He says that Agent Browning is a dick but generally fine and that there will be a local agent Iruma Matsumoto stopping by before him, probably today. He looks right at Andrew and says “Yeah, I’ll talk with them about how Romero stabbed me.” Andrew lets out an amused puff of laughter that makes FF feel like he might be doing alright at this friendship thing.

He apologizes to Andrew that he can’t make the pie today and gets a flick to his ear.

He finds out that he slept through all of Saturday and that it is Sunday morning. Finds out that his Gran and Wymack had stayed over at the Columbia house last night and that Wymack has him excused from his classes this week. He also finds out that Nicky has given his grandma a key to the house in Columbia so she could stay there while she’s visiting him.

He apologizes to Nicky for messing up the clothes he’d let him borrow and earns another flick to the ear from Nicky.

Wymack hands him a new phone that Nicky has apparently set up for him. His lip quirks up slightly when he sees that Nicky registered it as ’Smithy’s phone’. Neil shows him some stuff since he has the same phone model but Andrew rolls his eyes.

“You’ve barely figured out how to set anything on your phone Junkie. You still haven’t even set a screen lock.” He says as he pulls Neil back from FF’s space.

“I’ve figured out how to change the notification ping.” Neil argues but lets himself be pulled away and if Andrew keeps his arm around Neil afterwards? No one comments on that.

He translates things for his Gran when it seems important for her to be able to respond to and helps Nicky with some pronunciations.

He falls asleep a couple times and wakes up to his friends and teammates in all sorts of different configurations. Nicky gets him some good sugar-free Jell-O from the nurses while Aaron smacks Kevin upside the head when Kevin complains that it’s not good for him and not part of the diet he’s making to get FF back on the Court ASAP. “He’s gotta be on a clear liquid diet for 24 hours after his surgery.” Aaron hisses.

“Why does it have to be clear? I can put it in a blender but it won’t be clear.” Kevin grumbles.

“He’s not going to be on puree’d food for at least two weeks idiot.” Aaron smacks his head again.

“Stop that.”

He hears from Wymack the other Freshman Dealer won’t be returning and that Sheena is now their only Dealer and she does not do defense well. Kevin’s disapproval for the Jell-O cups only grows stronger in light of this news. His grumbling only stops when Gran looks at him and says “Maybe someone should help you pull that stick out of your ass young man.” In her nicest most grandmotherly voice.

When Kevin turns to FF for a translation Nicky beats him to it, “She said a handsome young man like you shouldn’t ruin your face with worries.” He says without a hint that he’s lying.

Kevin preens at the grandmotherly approval of his looks and FF gets to know that he, Nicky and his grandma all have lying in common.

Eventually it’s lunch time and the natural hunger of college athlete boys trumps anything else. Kevin won’t eat anything at the cafeteria since he doesn’t trust the nutritionist so they agree to head out of the hospital to grab food. He’s more tired than hungry so he tells his Gran to go with them. She pats his face and promises she’ll be back with some clear soup for him per the Doctor’s order and despite Kevin’s grumbling that he could make a clear protein shake.

His Gran kisses his forehead and tells him that she’ll be back soon and that he should rest as much as he can.

***

FF can’t sleep.

He tried.

He really did.

But without the noise of everyone else his mind keeps going back to the last time he was in a hospital. He closes his eyes and he can see Gran’s pale face when she tells him that his dad didn’t make it and the tears when she tells him neither-

He can’t sleep.

So he gets up against medical advice and decides to go on a walk. He’s not been connected to any of the monitoring equipment since he had first woken up, just the IV keeping him hydrated. FF decides he wants to get his dad’s leather back because it would make him feel better. The leather jacket has weight that would keep his feet strictly on the ground and it’s something his Gran had given to him when he went off to college so that he could keep his dad close. He could call a nurse but it feels like he shouldn’t distract them with something as stupid as getting him his dad’s jacket so he doesn’t have a panic attack.

So he lets himself slip into the background and heads towards the nurse station. He thinks that might be where they’re holding his belongings. It’s a good first stop if nothing else.

He can’t help but notice a strange number of men in suits but figures that maybe they’re just there to talk to people who seem to have gotten caught up in some sort of mass casualty incident.

He makes it to the nurse station and when a whole 5 minutes goes by without a single nurse clocking that he exists he considers speaking up until he sees a nurse bagging up some clothes, slapping on a label, and heading away.

It’s nice when things work out for him.

Another suit wearing man comes up and a different nurse sees him there immediately and comes up, “What can I help you with?” She asks.

“I’m looking for someone with the last name Smith, he has a stab wound?” The man asks.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” The nurse responds with exasperation but FF is already almost out of earshot when he hears it because he’s following the nurse with the bag.

He follows her down the hallway and she thankfully takes an elevator instead of going down the stairs because FF doesn’t know how he would have gotten his IV stand down with him.

FF walks in with her and he watches her slump as the doors slide close. Relaxing like most people do when they think they’re alone. Her shoulders go straight back when the elevator opens again and he follows after her.

He follows her to a door that she unlocks and proceeds to enter and FF sees a room full of the same bags with belongs all tagged with a last name and a room number. “Christ, why are there so many fucking Smiths in here right now?” She grumbles but takes him straight to the S section and he sees his own ‘Smith’ and room number.

He grabs it and heads out the door before the nurse and heads into the elevator.

His phone pings with a text message. He opens it and sees a text from an unknown number.

“Come to the Cafeteria. - IM”

FF stares at his phone for a few minutes before the initials click.

Iruma Matsumoto, the local FBI agent who was coming to talk to him today according to Captain Neil. It’s weird to be texted like this but this is the first time he’s ever had to talk to the FBI. Maybe it’s normal? He doesn’t really want to bother Captain Neil about what getting interrogated by the FBI is like since Captain Neil is out at lunch.

He decides to go to the Cafeteria.

FF follows the directory in the elevator and then the arrows that point him towards the cafeteria. He takes a moment to pull his dad’s jacket out and it does help him feel better. He realizes the McDonald’s toy is still in his pocket and thinks that he really should probably turn that over to Agent Matsumoto.

When he gets to the cafeteria he sees even more of those guys in suits and then he sees a well dressed Japanese man sitting by himself at a table. FF has a moment where he thinks ‘Wow that FBI agent sure does look like a member of the Yakuza.’ Before he squashes it because ‘OMG that’s such a fucking racist thing to think. Thoughts from the abyss are the worst and Agent Matsumoto is probably a perfectly nice guy.’

He takes a seat in front of the man who is surrounded by two other of the men in black he’s seen. Oh that guy was probably looking for him to bring him here so they could have the talk.

None of the men seem to notice him and FF realizes that he’s still in stealth mode. He sets the bag with the rest of his clothes to the side and clears his throat.

Three sets of eyes are on him immediately and FF breathes through the anxiety as the two men at either side of Agent Matsumoto seem to reach for something at their holsters.

“Captain Neil said you wanted to talk to me.” He says.

Captain Matsumoto raises a hand and the two men on either side of him return to an at ease position.

***

Ichirou Moriyama could admit to himself that he had been startled when a young man seemingly appeared out of nowhere in front of him without any warning. He sees a bulge in the man’s pocket that says that he’s armed and he could have done anything before bringing attention to himself. He had men throughout the hospital and no one has spotted Wesninski or any of his cohorts but they had their eyes peeled for the uninvolved civilian who had taken out Jackson on his own and had assisted Wesninski’s guard dog in taking out Romero.

Interesting.

Ichirou clasps his hands together in over the cafeteria table.

“Yes, let’s talk.” He agrees.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie @theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lillyndra @themundanemudperson @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo @next-level-mess @youreonlylow @interstellarfig @notprocrastinatingatalltoday @percyjacksonfan3 @queenofcrazy27 @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares @spencellio @adinthedarkroom @harpymoth @sufferingjustalilbit @anxietymoss @oddgreyhound @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken @ken22789 @atiredvampire @isoldescorner @not--a--pipedream @azure-wing @bushbees @roonilwazlib-main @crumplelush @foldedaces-paperbirds @thesenseinnonsense @let-tyrants-fear @ketchupandfries @legowerewolf @deadlydodos @but-we-respect-his-craft @cariniqe @zanypersonapricotbiscuit @lesbian-blackbeard @lesbiansupernatural @silvermasquerade @thepeachfuzz @minniemariex @kazoo-the-demjin @gaypomegranate @ji-nk-ies @neilimfinejosten @omgrubelangel @itsyouitsmeorpheuseurydice @percabethotplove @cozyrosykay @foxyatlas @theoneandonlylostsock @cindersapsecrets

The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

If you didn’t get notified on the last part it’s probably because I used tumblr mobile to post and our most beloved garbage fire site just didn’t like that.

#Fluent Freshman AU #Guess who accidentally took FF's phone?#It's Neil #He realizes it halfway through the grocery store run #Sorry FF your grandma is now the Monster Grandma #She's got knitting projects planned for each of them #She's already asked about allergies #She jokingly tells Nicky she'll knit Kevin a muzzle because he's commented on the amount of butter she uses four times #He always shuts up when he eats it at least #Neil is blissfully unaware that he has FF's phone and FF has his #Some poor Moriyama grunts are wandering through the hospital having to check every single Smith room for the one they're looking for #Ichirou was planning some mild intimidation shit on Neil #But was hampered because JFC why so many Smiths #Does Ichirou know Smith's first name?#Perhaps #Does he use it?#Probably not #AFTG #AFTG AU #AFTG OC #Andreil #FF - Pt. 28

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