#how long is this. and i could've gone on lol. if i have anything to say i Can [never shut up]

[zepskies]

Aw thank you so so much, Wayne! 🥹 Despite the whirlwind romance and the "romantic" time period, I tried to keep the situation and how it resolved feel realistic as possible. Thanks for sticking with me on this magical angsty ride. 😂💖💖

(Aw love the forehead kiss!)

And oh boy, my heart was beating fast in my chest when Michael stormed her hotel room, and Sam and Dean weren't there yet. I was glad his anger simmered down a little, but of course, seeing her with Dean then later turned the heat right up again 🙈

Oh God I don't blame you! 😬 There were a lot of directions that scene could've gone, but I liked being able to bring Sam and Dean in to back her up and protect her in different ways here. And yeeep Michael started to catch on there. 😅

The fact Dolores was Jo blew my mind! 🤯 Up until that point, I had made an OC for her in my head lmao

Originally she was going to be just an OC, but I thought it would be a fun twist, since Jo is blonde and blue-eyed just like Doris Day (the singer I based the character persona on)! 😝

But man, Dean storming in all heroic had my knees weak, girl 😍😍 Such a pissing contest, and I'm loving it lol

Ahh it's a terribly cliché case of White Knight syndrome here, but I can't help that it makes me weak too, more than anything! 😭😭💕

Oh yeah, Sam was just as important as Dean here for the reader tbh. Without him, Michael would've kept pushing his luck.

And for a moment, everyone was happy then, right? But damn if my heart didn't drop during this scene: You had me so worried!! I was afraid we'd end up in, I don't know, 1968? And they're both married with kids to other people... But I was real glad it was only a few months. Seriously, thank fucking God, you didn't rip my heart out. Phew... 😆

Aw man, I'm so sorry to do this to you! 😂😂 But omg while that would've been an incredibly angsty ending, you know me, I can't do that to you guys or myself! 🤣💗💗

I totally understand why Dean left, though. It wasn't the right time for them, and she needed to deal with her divorce first and Dean with his... demons lol, and that's why I loved this so much! Because it wasn't clean-cut, and Michael wasn't giving up so easily, and she still struggled with her feelings, and all of it made sense and kept it realistic. Truly loved that! 🥹🫶

Exactly, thank you for totally getting where I was going with this! They just weren't ready for reach other yet, no matter how much they wanted to be with each other. She needed to learn how to stand on her own two feet again (and be officially divorced), and Dean had things to take care of on his end while he waited for that divorce clock to run out lmao.

Michael also wasn't that quick to let go either -- but eventually she was able to cut him loose! While this story was based on a movie, I tried to make sure it didn't have "movie logic" if that makes sense. 😆💖

And I knew from the start when I read the chapter title that the "dried ink" would both refer to her divorce papers and a new marriage certificate 😂💕

Ahhh you caught me!! Double meaningssss!

That broke me... The reassurance he gives her? Gah 💀

Aww thank you for highlighting perhaps my favorite Dean line of the whole chapter! 🥹💗💗

I also died that she got married so quickly again for a second time! I'd understand her parents' concern lol. Luckily, she met Dean the second time around, or this is the kind of hopeless romanticism that becomes dangerous fast 😂

Right?? lmao My excuse for that was that life moved fast back then, and these two already knew they wanted to be together. 😂😂 But omg yeah, thank God she fell for a truly good man like Dean and not some other "Michael." 😅

This was such a smart idea of him, and I loved that he wanted her to be closer to her family! 😍 Surely also scoring brownie points with the in-laws lol

Yess bringing things full circle back to their conversation under the stars in Part 3! lol oh yeah, hopefully that goes a long way with them. 😂 And it shows how Dean considers her, vs. Michael who brought her to NY to service himself and his assimilation back into society.

Oooof, and that was such a perfect way to end it, too 😮‍💨 Like I said, I hope they truly live happily ever after with a bunch of kids running around the yard, Dean grilling, and her baking apple pie. They deserve it 🥹❤️ Such a fantastic journey, friend!!! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Aww thank you so much, my friend!! I definitely have that HC, and I'm actually thinking of writing a little one-shot for these two (hopefully) soon. 🥰 I'm so happy thank you enjoyed the journey of this story! 💖💖💖

BETWEEN THE CITY & THE STARS - Part 5

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: In the fall of 1945, Dean is having a difficult time assimilating back into civilian life after the War. He’s visiting his brother Sam in New York City, where he’s beginning to build up his law firm. At two minutes to closing time, you interrupt their evening to solicit a solicitor. Your request? You need help in order to divorce your husband.

AN: Ready for an angsty-fun filled finale? 😘💖

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Historical Epic

Song Inspo: “The Very Thought of You” by Tony Bennett

Word Count: 6.6K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Angst, tense situations, protective Dean, hurt/comfort, fluff, and spice.~

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Part 5: Dried Ink

Dean slammed the payphone back on the hook in frustration. He’d tried calling twice from the train station and couldn’t get you at home. It was getting late in the evening and he knew you were off work already. Where the hell did you go?

“She could’ve packed up and left him already,” Sam said. “I gave her the number of a decent hotel I know over in the Village.”

Dean reluctantly stepped aside for the next person waiting to use the phone. The sound of his train clicking by fast on the tracks echoed in the station. A gust of wind shoved at the brothers' backs, ruffling their long coats, as well as Sam's hair.

“You think she did it that quick?” Dean asked.

“One way to find out,” Sam said. “Come on. I’ve got my car waiting.”

It was so very strange to watch the bellman bring your suitcases inside your new room. You’d only ever stayed in a hotel once, for your honeymoon in Philadelphia. Michael took you to the Walnut Street Theater there, and among other things, to see the Liberty Bell. It had reminded both of you about the true cost of freedom.

You let that thought slip away from you with a shake of your head as you started unpacking, hesitantly at first. It almost didn’t feel real.

Fortunately, after sampling from a bottle of scotch you’d found under Michael’s side of the bed (and slipped into your suitcase), you began to settle into the idea. You took a break from hanging up your dresses in the closet to peer out the window to the narrow, busy streets below the fifth floor. Everything looked so small down there, so far away. In time, maybe the heaviness in your heart would feel that far away too.

Except the loud, insistent knock on the door broke you out of your thoughts. Straightening up with a frown, you set down your glass and went over to the door. It could be Housekeeping coming up to bring you the fresh towels you asked for. The ones that had been laid out in the bathroom smelled musty.

You opened the door to a tall frame taking up room in the doorway. It was Michael, standing there disheveled and steaming mad. He held your letter crumpled in his left hand. 

“Michael, what—what’re you doing here?” you gasped and stepped back. He followed you inside the room and slammed it shut. He looked around at your open suitcases in disbelief, then finally at you.

“What’s this supposed to mean, huh?” he demanded to know. He shook the flimsy piece of paper at you. “I come home with flowers, two tickets to see a show, ready to take my wife out to dinner, only to find the apartment half empty. Not to mention a letter that…frankly, cut me to down to the core.”

His anger lessened then, turning into dismay; the kind that you never would have expected to see in his eyes. Not after how he’d been acting for the past few months. He came closer and grabbed hold of you by the shoulders. When you tensed and expelled a shaky breath, he blinked in surprise.

“Darling, are you…you scared of me or something?” he asked incredulously. “I know I’ve been working late, not coming home when I say I will sometimes, but have I ever raised a hand to you? Not even once, right?”

You drew enough courage to meet his eyes, so blue, for once so earnest. It made you sick. Because the man he was when he was sober was more like the one you married. Only, you felt the true version of him was more akin to a sleeping dragon, lying in wait to be provoked.

“Neither of us have to lie anymore and pretend this is a marriage. At least, not one worth saving,” you said. “I know, Michael. I know about Dolores…or should I say, Joanna.”

Michael paused. His head cocked as disbelief crossed his features. He stared down at you almost without blinking.

“Did you know her real name was Joanna Johnson?” you asked. “Ring any bells with Brady Johnson, the man you’ve been paying to keep her company?”

Michael frowned. “He’s her brother. He pays her bills—”

“No,” you shook your head. “Look in the folder sitting on the coffee table there.”

You gestured over to it with a nod of your head. Michael was drawn to the path of your gaze. When his morbid curiosity was too much, he finally let go of you to investigate the folder in question. You released a subtle sigh of relief. You began drifting over behind the couch and closer to the landline phone. It rested on a nearby accent table.   

Meanwhile, Michael sorted through the contents of the folder and all the information Sam had gathered for you. He’d made copies of all the evidence for your personal records, including the photos he took of Michael and Dolores.

“Her maiden name is Joanna Beth Harvell,” you revealed. “Brady Johnson isn’t her brother, Michael. You’ve been paying to sleep with another man’s wife.”

No one short of Clark Gable could fake the jolt of shock that crossed Michael’s face. You saw the truth of it in his eyes when he glanced up at you.

“I don’t know why it should bother you, seeing as you don’t seem to care much about wedding vows,” you couldn’t help but snark. You were no longer all that sad though. Somehow, that pitiful look on his face made you feel sorry for him.

Michael seemed to have swallowed his tongue. For a while, he couldn’t dislodge it from the roof of his mouth to speak. But when he did, it wasn’t with anything good to say.

“How did you get all this?” he asked.

Your spine stiffened. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over, Michael. I can’t do this anymore. You should be getting the divorce papers served to you by the morning—”

Your words were cut off when he rounded the corner of the couch, grabbing you by the arms again. This time, his grip was much firmer and made you gasp.

“What the hell is going on? Have you been spying on me?!” he raised his voice to new heights, shaking you once by your shoulders. “How long have you been planning to leave me?”

The words became choked in your throat along with your fear—one that paralyzed you, and made you feel sick with yourself, small and weak.

The door bursting open again startled you both, but it was Michael who grunted when he was heaved off of you by his shirt and waistcoat.

You stumbled and braced yourself against the back of the couch, but your widened eyes fell on the one man you never thought you’d see again.

“Dean,” you breathed.

He spared you a look of concern through his anger, but Michael soon commanded his attention by trying to break his hold. Dean reeled back his arm and delivered a solid punch that knocked the other man into the wall. Michael leaned heavily against it to keep himself upright, and he had to blink a few spots out of his eyes, not only grimacing at the ache in his cheek. That one blow had rattled through his skull, disturbing old injuries. He glared over at Dean.

“Who the hell are you?” Michael shouted. His shock only increased when he noticed Sam Winchester shutting the hotel room door behind him. “What’re you doing here?”

“I’m her lawyer, Mr. Milligan, and you’re hereby served,” Sam said.

He strode forward with a packet of papers. Michael took a purposeful step towards him, but Dean shoved Michael back against the wall. It allowed Sam to place the packet in Michael’s disbelieving hand.

Dean went over to you then, giving you a meaningful once-over as you held yourself. He softened when he saw the tears in your eyes.

“You all right?” he said quietly, laying a hand on the small of your back. You still couldn’t quite speak, but you nodded at him gratefully, tucking a wily strand of hair behind your ear.

Michael took notice of it once he peeled his eyes from the divorce papers, and up at you and Dean. Michael’s lips pursed as his posture became even more tense and irate.

“I’m not signing this,” he said, tossing the folder onto the coffee table beside the evidence of his infidelity. He met your wary gaze. “Look, I’m not saying I’ve been a perfect husband, but you’re my wife. That still means something to me. We can…we can still work this out.”

Against your will, hot tears burned in your eyes, and your mouth trembled. The men watched you closely.

You shook your head.

“No. We can’t,” you said. “You’re not the man I thought I married.”

In those blue eyes, you thought you saw the shine of a breaking heart. But all too quickly, it turned into anger and denial. Michael meant to cross the narrow distance between you with a threat on his mind and tight coiling of his entire frame. Dean’s hand slid from your back as he stepped in between, fisting a hand in the other man’s dress shirt and pressing there hard.

“You take your hands off me before I tear you apart,” Michael hissed.

Dean’s face was full of cold fire, with a threat thinly veiled underneath. “Lay another hand on her, and I’ll break every bone you got left.”

“Dean,” you gasped, reaching out for him. His backward glance at you warned you to stay where you were.

Michael became even more incensed. Again, he was noticing the familiarity between you and this man invading his space, threatening him, and standing between him and his wife. Before he could open his mouth to protest, Sam finally spoke up again.

“If you don’t take that file and leave now, peacefully, then this isn’t the only one of your affairs that’s going to come to light,” Sam said.

Michael hesitated. He glanced over at Sam with an angry raise of his brow.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think you know very well what it means,” Sam replied. He picked up the folder of evidence he gave you and slipped out a few documents that highlighted an audit of Milligan Meats.

“How does a family business stay so incredibly lucrative during one of the worst times for meat production since the Depression?” Sam wondered aloud. “Maybe it has something to do with those connections you made in Philadelphia, greasing hands like Vondich, from Pittsburg. Or accepting kickbacks from the Torelli family to stock their restaurants with higher quality beef. Who knew that your father had deep, shall we say intimate ties, to one of the biggest mafia families in New York City?”

Once Sam showed the numbers and records, written in Michael’s own painstaking hand, your husband’s face went ashen.

“How did you get this?” he said. Then, as it dawned on him, he looked over at you in betrayal. You hadn’t known about the Torellis, but Sam had been able to sort the last five years of audits for himself, thanks to your investigation of Michael’s office.

“I did my own digging, Mr. Milligan,” Sam said, earning back his attention. “Your wife’s only part in this was asking for my help in securing her divorce. As you can see, I’m very thorough. And these aren’t my only copies of this information. I’m fully prepared to take it to the authorities, today.”

His lie was to protect you, just as much as Dean physically putting himself between you and Michael was. You didn’t know if Michael entirely bought the lie, but eventually, his shoulders sagged in defeat.

He grabbed the papers from Sam’s hand, pivoted on his heel, and turned to leave. However, Michael stopped at the doorway to look back at you.

“This is really what you want?” he asked.

You nodded. “You know it is.”

With that confirmation, Michael took his heavy heart with him when he left.

Sam and Dean helped you repack your things. Neither of them trusted Michael to leave you alone now that he knew where you were. You didn’t want to make such a fuss, but they insisted on helping to put you up at a different hotel across town.

Sam took half of your belongings in his car, where he also had Dean’s one and only suitcase. Dean loaded the rest of your luggage in a taxicab and sat beside you, mostly staring out the window while he smoked. During the ride, you couldn’t help but glance at him every so often. You noted his profile, handsome as always, except now you couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking.

“Dean,” you said quietly. It earned you his attention, as his eyes roamed over you from your familiar beige jacket to your favorite burgundy lipstick.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I am,” you nodded, giving him a small smile. “Thank you.”

You tried to convey deeper things with your words, and you thought Dean read your meaning. He hesitated for a moment, but he took up your hand and pressed a kiss to your fingers.

“Sam’s gonna keep watching out for you, okay? You don’t have to worry about anything,” he said.

Your smile fell. “You’re still going back to Kansas?”

Dean held your gaze for a long moment, and let out a breath through his nose.

“Nothing’s changed, sweetheart. I’m still a man with a lot to make of himself, and you’re still a married woman, even without the ring,” he said, gesturing to your left hand held in his. “It’s not the right time for us…and I’m not asking you to wait for me to get my act together. It’s not fair to you.”

You were quiet for a while. The cab’s tires continued rolling over bits of gravel in the street, the honking horns and other pocketed sounds of the city falling into a background symphony. You glanced up at Dean, meeting his eyes once more.

“I don’t regret anything,” you told him, squeezing his hand. “I could never.”

The corner of his lips quirked upwards. “Me either, baby. Not for all the world.” 

He held your hand until the taxi stopped in front of the hotel. Dean leaned over to open the door. He helped you out of the car, but there, he let you go.

You supposed you’d have to be strong enough to walk alone this time.

March 1946

Four months later, it was official. 

Oh, Michael sure made it difficult. Sam did make a point to keep an eye on you though. He even hired a client and friend, Benny Lafitte, to accompany you to and from work every day. The burly man was an intimidating presence, but he was kind and respectful. He made you feel safer, especially in the evenings when he kept watch of your apartment for a while, sat out front in his car.

Michael was tenacious. He likely used his connections through town, however nefarious they might be, to find out where you were staying again. He continued to show up outside your hotel room. 

Nonetheless, when he sat up against your door all night and realized that you wouldn’t budge, the anger finally drained out of Michael. The exhaustion and guilt set in, perhaps not for the first time. 

Then, he drunkenly apologized through the closed door, not knowing you were leaning in on the other side of it. It wasn’t the kind of apology that meant anything, you thought, but the kind that meant to let him save face in your eyes, to persuade you into softening. 

You didn’t soften, even though he tried everything to get you to reconsider. He tried gentle words and grandiose gestures, even so far as getting down on his knees outside the door and begging—something you’d never seen him do, not once. Part of you wanted to open the door just an inch if it allowed you to see that sight.

Your tears came, but not because your heart was easing up to him. Your heart was breaking again, knowing this was the end. 

He tried reminding you of how difficult it would be for you afterwards, how it might affect your family, your job, everyone’s perception of you. More importantly to him, it would affect how people saw him, a man divorced after barely a year. 

Somehow, you found the strength to speak to him slowly from inside the door. 

“It’s already done, Michael. And so am I,” you said. “After I saw you and Dolores together with my own eyes, I…I was intimate with another man. I didn’t do it to hurt you, but I still did it.”

His silence was deafening. Not being able to see him actually made this easier though. You sighed.

“I’m sorry, but I just can’t go back to us,” you said, “because that would be a lie.”

You couldn’t see it, but his face tightened as angry tears filled his eyes. He felt the weight of his decisions like never before, along with a pulsing, phantom pain in his skull that alcohol could no longer dull. Dimly, he remembered the man he used to be, before. He remembered having a shred of honor to his name, even before he married you. And he did that because he’d loved you. He was sure that he had, somehow…

“I am sorry, darling,” he croaked. “You have to know…”

You nodded, taking a breath to try and steady yourself. 

“I know,” you realized. As much as he was able to be, he was sorry.

He picked himself up from outside your door and walked away. He never returned after that.

In those four months, you resolved to move back to Sioux Falls. New York had become your home in the past year and a half you’d lived here, but it wasn’t who you were. You wanted a quieter life. A more peaceful life. 

You initially agreed to move to the city with Michael because you had wanted to please him, and make his transition back to civilian life easier in his familiar surroundings. You thought the two of you were building a life together.

New York City was still a heartbeat of a world, but it was no longer in your heart. 

Now, you were finishing up on packing your things at the hotel. You left for South Dakota tomorrow, and you already sent your last payment to Sam Winchester a few days ago, along with a handwritten letter thanking him for his help. You felt badly for not going to visit his office in person, but it would be too hard. You would be too tempted to ask about his brother. 

Dean.

Just the thought of his name made your heart constrict. You weren’t sure if it was only with pain, though you hoped he was doing well. You tried to remember that you had known him for barely a week. Your mind and your heart shouldn't be so taken up with him.

And yet.

He had seen you at your lowest, belly-to-the-ground low. He had brushed away your tears and hadn’t tried to flatter you with pretty words. He’d made you feel better with simple, raw honesty.

He gave you a window into his past, even though a soldier like him wouldn’t easily pry himself open for anyone, short of his own brother, you suspected. So you’d come to realize, whenever the memory of him greeted you after that day in the park, that he’d given you something special. Perhaps the best night of your life.

Your fingers paused on the brass doorknob to what had been your bedroom for the past few months. It was a modest one, complete with a kitchen and a small two-seater sofa.

Hotels were expensive, but your parents had been kind enough to send you some money to help you. They’d been dismayed to learn of the reasons behind your divorce, of course. They both had been against it at first, but when they heard your voice over the phone, along with the full story, they finally agreed to support you in what way they could, especially by welcoming you back home.

You were looking forward to seeing them. It had only been a couple of months since they’d come to the city for Christmas, but you were ready to go home to some familiarity, and to your family’s support. 

You shook your head to get yourself unstuck from all of that. You straightened the wrinkles out of your long skirt and adjusted the collar of your blouse. You had just come home from your last day of work not too long ago, so you supposed you would take a bath and get changed into something more comfortable before you finished packing. Your train left tomorrow, early in the morning.  

You were about to head into the bathroom when you heard a knock at the door. Frowning, you wondered who it could be. If it was Michael again, you were not opening the door, and you’d call the police for good measure if he stuck around. You were done entertaining him in every sense of the word. 

You went to the door and looked into the peephole. Your brows furrowed. You unlatched all three locks on the door and opened it to the room service maid.

“Hi, Bridget, how are you?” you greeted her.

“Oh, I’m doing well, ma’am. Sorry, I’m a bit behind today, but I’m here to clean the room.”

“Oh, well, now isn’t really a good time,” you said. You had duffel bags and suitcases open, with your clothes, a curling iron, and other things thrown about. Not to mention, you had a leftover sandwich sitting half-eaten on the dining table with a nearly empty bag of chips.

“I’m afraid I can’t come back later,” said Bridget. She tended to talk with her hands, made more interesting by the fact that she held a broom with one hand, and pulled her cleaning cart with the other. “It’ll be too late, and then you’ll be asleep!”

“Look, I’ll just clean tonight, and you can come back tomorrow after I leave. How does that sound?” you suggested.

“All right, if that’s how you want it,” Bridget said with a shrug. She threw her broom on the cart and started pushing it down the hall. She still called back to you over her shoulder, “Goodnight, ma’am! Safe travels for your trip home.”

You shook your head with a weary smile. “Thank you. Goodnight!”

You closed the door behind you and reset all the locks in place. Releasing a heavy sigh, you supposed you should get back to packing. You turned to do just that, when there came another knock on the door. This time it was a heavier sound.

“For God’s sake. What is it now?” you groused.

You went back to look into the peephole. This time, your mouth fell open in a gasp. You undid all the locks again with shaking hands, and you opened the door. There stood Dean Winchester. 

He looked nice. Dapper really, wearing a dark blue suit and tie over a crisp white shirt and blue waistcoat underneath. His hair was combed and gelled and parted to the right, and he smelled faintly of a woodsy cologne.

He also looked just as stricken to see you. His eyes were as green as you remembered, and they took in your form from head to toe. They returned to your face, softening slightly, and he smiled. 

“Hey, sweetheart.”

God, his voice. It threatened to make you weak. 

You shook your head and managed to smile back at him. “What’re you doing here?”

He chuckled. “Well, that’s some welcome.”

“You know what I mean.” You reached out for him, and he took your hand, raising the back of it to his lips in a kiss. All the while, his eyes never left you. Your face flushed hotly, your heartbeat leaping in and out of rhythm. 

“I’m here to see you,” he said, matter of factly. As if it were the simplest thing in the world.

Your mouth ran dry. It was difficult to form words, but somehow you managed it.

“Would…would you like to come in then?” you offered. 

“I’d like nothing more,” he replied. 

The depths in his words made a tingle run down your spine, though you tried to hide your reaction to it. You let him in and shut the door behind you both. 

“So you’re headed home, huh?” he asked. He was sitting next to you on the couch with a soda you procured for him, and a cigarette in hand, yet to be lit. 

“Did Sam tell you?” you asked. 

Dean nodded, smiling ruefully. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

You ducked your head, a bit embarrassed. He tossed his unlit cigarette on the coffee table and tucked a finger under your chin. He raised your head until you met his eyes. 

“There she is,” he said softly. 

You sucked in a breath laden with emotion. Tears welled up in your eyes. 

“Why are you here, Dean?”

“I think you know,” he said, his thumb brushing your cheek. 

“I think you need to say it,” you replied, daring him with the directness of your gaze. His hand fell away from your chin, just to cup your cheek as he moved closer. You grabbed onto his arm in reflex.

“I told you, I had to see you,” he admitted. 

“Why? Why now?” you asked. “After what you said last time… For goodness’ sake, Dean. Why wait until I’m about to leave?”

“Because,” Dean said. He took a subtle breath, making himself relax. “Because I had to sort myself out, and I had to wait until the ink dried on those damn divorce papers. Because if I’d come any sooner, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.”

Hope dared to rise high in your throat. Your eyes flit over his face, and finally met his.

“From what?” you whispered.

Dean tilted his head to consider it. He bit into his lip, and then, he made a choice.

He kissed you with abandon. He kept kissing you, stealing your breath, finding new angles to devour you with. He robbed you of any coherent thought in your head the moment his tongue breached your lips to curl against yours. It was all you could do to keep up with him, but you grabbed onto his jacket and made indents in the fabric with your nails. His hands moved down your body to squeeze your waist, pulling you flush against him. You moaned into his mouth.

“Dean,” you said, half on a gasp, half on a whimper.

He managed to slow down for a moment. His hand came up to pet your hair.

“No matter what the hell I do, I’m selfish. I just…I can’t let you go,” he said, with furrowed brows.

You shook your head in dismay. “You didn’t need to, you know. I wouldn’t have let you take me home that night if I didn’t think you were a good man…and I certainly wouldn’t have invited you in.”

Your lips tugged at a smile, making Dean smirk as well. That memory had stayed with him too, usually on long nights alone in his house. He tried to remember the sweet smell of your perfume, the feeling of your soft skin, the sound of your pretty moans in his ear. Even now, the thought stirred the well of arousal inside him.

But also, there were other things he missed, like the sight of your smile, your sweeter voice, somehow gentle and strong all at once. He shook his head, thumbing at your cheek.

“The truth is, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since the day I met you,” he said. “I’m pretty sure that means I love you.”

Your eyes blinked wide at him in shock. His face was steady and even, but his amusement was starting to peek through the longer he looked at you.   

“Pretty sure?” you asked breathlessly. 

“Well, I’m willing to be more definitive on the subject if you are,” he teased. 

You fought a smile, but you couldn’t quite help it. Still, doubt began to creep in from behind.

“I want to believe you,” you said quietly. “But part of me is afraid that these are all just pretty words. If I let another man—”

“I’m not another man,” Dean said. His tone was firm, but also imploring, willing you to hear him. He gave your waist a gentle squeeze. “I’m me and you’re you. It’s not about Michael, or anyone else right now but us. And you’ve gotta know…sweetheart, you’ve gotta know that I’m not him.”

You tried steadying yourself with a breath. Your watery gaze cut away from Dean, but he wouldn’t let you hide. He gently brought you back, once again guiding your chin. He swept the lone tear from your cheek.

“Please, just tell me the honest truth. Tell me how you feel about us, and I promise, I won’t take it for granted,” he said. He knew he was practically begging, sounding almost needy and weak, but he couldn’t walk away from you again. Not until he knew for sure what you could want from him…what you could want with him.

The seconds of waiting for your answer were more agonizing than the long hours he spent traveling back to New York.

Until finally, you spared him. You shook your head and raised a hand to caress his cheek, your thumb brushing over his plush lower lip.

“After you left, I thought about you every morning when I woke up. And I prayed for you every night before I went to sleep,” you said. “I’m pretty sure that means I love you too.”

Dean smiled. It was a soft, boyish smile that seemed too young for his face. You loved him all the more for it.

He leaned in…but he hesitated, stopping just shy of your lips.

“Look, I still don’t know if I can be the man you need,” he said. He looked into your eyes. “But I can promise to try, every day, and for the rest of our lives.”

Hot tears once again stung in your eyes, threatening to blur your vision.

“That’s all I could ask for, Dean,” you replied. “I’ll try for you too.”

He smiled slightly, holding you a little closer by your waist.

“Good, because my shoulder still hurts sometimes. Gonna need you to work another miracle or two.”

You laughed and nodded, your hand sliding back up his arm to rub the old injury in his shoulder.

“My specialty,” you teased.

His smile dimmed then, becoming a touch serious, and even rueful.

“And, uh…I don’t sleep so well at times, either,” he said.

You sobered as well. “Me too,” you said. Your lips hinted at a smile again. “But we can keep each other company.”

Dean read the thread of suggestion in your eyes, despite the hint of shyness. His smile began to perk up again.

“I can also be kind of stubborn,” he admitted.

Amused, you tilted your head and ran a gentle hand over his chest. Was he giving you every reason you might say no to him?

“Well, I’m sure I can find a way to soften you up,” you said.

Chuckling, Dean took your hand and pressed a kiss into your palm. “Oh, I got no doubts about that, sweetheart.”

He rested your hand back on his chest and thought for a moment more. You just waited for him, patiently stroking his hand with your thumb. You had time to wait.

“You know, I occasionally like to cook too,” he said, with something of an embarrassed chuckle.

Your smile brightened with interest. “Really? Well,” you said, slipping your hand out of his and winding your arms around his neck. “We can take turns feeding each other then.”

Dean really liked the way your mind worked. His hands splayed along your lower back and brought you more flush against his chest. Your face was mere inches from his, tilted up to him in waiting.

Again, he stopped short of kissing you.

“Ah, there’s probably a lot more you should know, but this one’s kind of a big one,” Dean said. That serious tone crept back up in his voice. “I’ve got a plan to make money. It’s not a sure-fire thing, but it’s an honest one. And even if it doesn’t work, I’ll just try something else. I’ll do whatever it takes to take care of you. You don’t gotta worry about anything, okay?”

You smiled at his earnestness. What surprised you most of all was that you believed him. Every word. Because you could see it in the deep green of his eyes. If you trusted him, he wouldn’t let you down. Or at least, he would try his hardest. Try really was all you could ask for.

“Then I’ll take care of you too,” you nodded, stroking his cheek.

Dean’s smile rang true as well.

He finally kissed you again, trapping you thereafter against the sofa.

You sighed and nuzzled your head in a more comfortable position on Dean’s shoulder. The train bound for South Dakota was travelling full speed ahead, four days after your initially booked ticket. The carriage bumped and jostled you both at times, but you felt nothing but peace. 

Dean turned his attention towards you, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. His fingers entwined with yours in his lap. 

“Comfortable?” he asked, both genuine and a little teasing. 

“Mhmm,” you nodded. Your eyes closed as you let out a breath. He smiled into your hair. 

“So what’s it like in Sioux Falls?” he asked quietly, as to not disturb you too much. He just wanted to keep hearing your voice. He’d missed it. He’d missed you. 

“Quieter than the city,” you replied, after a moment to think about it. “Slower, but in some ways nicer. I think you’ll like it more than New York, anyway, and I think my parents will like you too…if they don’t think too much less of me.”

“Why would they think less of you?” Dean asked. 

You picked your head up and looked up at him a bit bashfully. You raised up your joined hands, where his mother’s wedding bands now rested on your ring finger. 

“For marrying another man they’ve never met, scarcely two minutes after the ink dried, so to speak,” you said, using his words. 

Dean chuckled, and he wrapped you up more snugly against him and rubbed your back. If you wanted to get technical, the new marriage license was the most recent “ink” to be penned. Sam had been your witness, of course, and he’d hugged you both afterwards. For Dean, Sam’s hug was tight and bracing. 

“I’m happy for you, Dean. I’m always here for you. Anything you need.”

“That’s my line, little brother.”

Dean hadn’t known that the two of you needed to take a blood test just to get hitched, let alone that the license wouldn’t be valid for 72 hours. Though it did give you and Dean the opportunity to put your hotel room to good use for those three days. Call it a honeymoon before the honeymoon. 

(In fairness, you’d tried to hold out for decency’s sake, but your resolve dissipated even quicker than Dean’s.)

“Don’t worry, I’ll charm ‘em,” he said with a grin. 

You snorted. “Good luck with my father. Be prepared for his grilling. Where do you plan to live? What’re you doing for work?”

“Well, the first one we can talk about. The second one, I’ve already got an idea,” said Dean. “I wanted to wait until I saw you again to decide…but I plan to sell the house in Lawrence.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Really? Why?”

You had already been mentally preparing yourself for a move to Kansas after visiting your parents. You never considered that Dean would want to sell his family home.

“For the money. I’m thinking that after all this, you want to stick closer to home, be near your family,” he said. “I’ve got nothing tying me down over there besides the house, so I figure we can use the money to buy one here. With whatever’s left, I could try to start an auto repair shop. Nothing big to start. Just a space big enough for the work. I’m not picky about it. Your uncle could send me the stragglers from his tows, if he’s agreeable to it.”

“After he gets to know you, I don’t see why not. Dean, that’s a great idea and…thank you,” you replied. Your heart was touched that he would sell his family home, just so you could be near your family. You squeezed his hand and blinked past the tears beginning to burn in your eyes.

“Really, you don’t know what it means to me that you’d consider me like that.”

Dean noticed you getting worked up. He stroked the back of your hand with his thumb, though part of him felt a bit bashful. 

“It’s not all that special,” he said. You didn’t budge, however. 

“Yes, it is,” you said. You leaned up, wordlessly requesting a kiss. Dean obliged you. He kissed you long and slow and tender. 

He broke away after a while, just to look over your shoulder. He smiled. Then he leaned forward, careful to keep you secure in his arms as he locked the door. 

“What’re you up to?” you asked in amusement, despite the fire churning inside you.

“It’s a long way to the Midwest, sweetheart. I’m taking advantage of it,” he said. “What do you say?”

A knowing smile began to tug at your lips. “Hmm, depends on what you want to do.”

Dean shifted you onto his lap. Smirking at your small sound of surprise, he made a show of undoing every button that laced down the front of your dress with slow precision. Your breathing shallowed as you watched his nimble hand go one by one. 

“I plan to take my time,” he said. “I plan to make us both glad this train is loud enough to drown out just about anything.” 

He laid a kiss just above your neckline. The more buttons he loosened, the more bare skin he had to trail his affections, like on the tops of your breasts, and another kiss in between them. Uttering a soft sigh, you held him to you by his hair and threaded your fingers through the brown strands. His other hand squeezed your bottom, earning a stifled giggle from you. 

“I plan to map out every part of you, all over again,” he said, “until I can see it all with my eyes closed. Until we’re both sweaty and satisfied.” 

He raised his head just to mark a biting, claiming kiss on your throat, making your breath hitch. 

“That okay with you, baby?” he asked again. 

You felt his growing smile against your skin. You tightened a hand in his hair in retaliation. It was a scandalous proposal, not to mention risky. You two could be booted off the train, for heaven’s sake…  

Your breaths were shallow as he slipped a hand under the collar of your blouse, even under the bra to palm at your breast.

“You better not stop, Sergeant,” you whispered. 

When he chuckled, you felt it deep in your chest.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, shortly before he claimed your lips again.

The train rode on.

AN: I promised a happy ending, didn't I? 😉✨ What did you think of the "end" of Michael, as well as how she and Dean worked things out? I absolutely loved working on this series and this AU world. Maybe I'll do another '40s AU in the future! 💖

But until then, I have lots of fun things coming up! You'll hear about the next story soon. 😘

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[loveanddeepdick]

christmas gift 🎁

obsessed!geto x reader

cw and notes: lowk doesn't make sense, best friends to kidnapped reader to whatever you two have going on, slight angst, this will not be everyone’s cup of tea, complicated toxic relationship, stalking, toxic behavior, piv sex, YOURE the gift, geto has u locked up lol, hair pulling, spit, asphyxiation, creampie, mentions of past drugging, implied kidnapping, reader is awkward and is still adapting, I'm trying my best to put real emotions and responses into words, not the perfect smut to flick da bean to lol, self indulgent and not proofread

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

all roads were iced over, going from tokyo to the edge of the city, more rural, secluded places. suguru drove his dark suv down winding roads until he came to the gate of his home. dark, metal bars open with a passcode onto the land that was his. his property. and he came home to you. his property.

he rushed out the car, boots crunching in the fresh snow. his hands jumbled with the keys, trying to find the matching silver one to the door—fuck. he didn’t lock it.

‘shit, shit, shit’

he slammed the door open, kicking off his boots to an eerily quiet home. he felt stupid. fuck. what was he thinking? he should’ve put deadbolts on the front door as well. you were probably long gone. your relationship—if you could call it that—had gotten to the point where he let you freely roam around inside the house with his supervision.

no sound of your voice, your feet steps, just the echos of his. he rushed to your room, all the way in the back of his house where he kept you, safe and sound from the outside world. he felt an iron grip on his heart, his stomach falling to his feet as he ran. you probably went down to his neighbor’s, called 911, maybe a young man helped you, you were definitely gone, you—

you?

there you were, in the same pajamas suguru had gently slid you in last night, wearing a little red bow in your hair. his chest heaved, a drop of swear dripping down his forehead, his eyes narrowing on you. you, on the floor, sitting criss-cross with a book in your hands as you leaned against the bed.

deep purple, with a red undertone, some would say it was evil. they bore into you and from where you were sitting on the floor, he looked like a statue. the shadows that were cast from the lamp in the hallway and the window in your shared bedroom made him look ethereal. maybe it was all the weeks that you were kept in captivity. maybe it was all the sleeping drugs he fed you finally catching up to you.

he looked so other-worldly.

suguru held your gaze for a few seconds, his chest heaving from the adrenaline. you were still here? you could've run away, yet you stayed so pliant and good. you wanted to stay, didn't you?

"welcome home, suguru," you blinked up at him, your eyelashes batting so deer-like. you were like a little animal, held in captivity by a scary man, but it was almost ironic how he felt like a deer in headlights.

he broke out of his trance, reaching you in two long strides before dropping to his knees, enveloping you in his slender, lean arms. being embraced by suguru was not like a hug. if anything, it was most similar to being embraced by a thick wall of cold, misty fog. you slowly wrap your hands around his bicep as he takes deep, heavy breaths into the crook of your neck.

"you're here," he huffs out, "my angel"

"uh.. yeah," your eyes wandered the room awkwardly as his giant frame hung over yours, "as always,"

"don't leave."

"i think you established that, suguru"

"don't."

he pulled away from the embrace, still leaving little room between the two of you. his nose was inches away from yours, his skin sickly pale. dark purple eyes, more alluring than ever boring into your face, scanning your features as if he was still trying to process that you were real.

"you miss me or something?" geto huffed out, one hand travelling up to the back of your head, your hair threading through hs fingers. you respond with a curt nod, trying to avoid eye contact. you felt as though you were.. blushing? yet the temperature in the room only continued to drop.

"i did miss you," you murmur, dodging geto's eyes even though his head only followed yours.

"look at me, angel. stop trying to avoid me. there's no escaping me, I told you, didn't i?" geto's grip tightened on your head before releasing again, "I'm sorry. didn't mean to scare you,"

he pulled his hand from the back of your head down to the nape of your neck, rubbing it gently with his thumb.

"s'okay," you bit your lip before looking up at him, "did you eat today?"

he nodded before lowering his gaze to your lips. the air felt cold and heavy. you couldn't even count the days your best friend had locked you in his home. your dynamic had definitely changed, so have the complicated feelings you two had harboured for each other. his head dipped with a deep sigh before he looked back up at you.

"i brought you dinner. it's in the car," suguru got up before pausing, looking back at you and motioning for you to follow.

and with a smile, you followed.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

the fireplace crackled as he flipped through the channels on the tv. he sat on the couch, his legs pointing in different directions as he manspread. it gave you a bit of the ick..

but there you were, cuddled up on suguru's lap, full of the dinner that suguru had brought home, in suguru's house. why were you comfortable on his lap? the same man that had locked you away from society. yet, it was the same man that comforted you on the darkest nights, walked you home from work, bought you snacks when you were sad.

you shook your thoughts away, the conflicting emotions messing with your head. at first, you screamed at him, thrashed against his hold, yet here you were, with your best friend, your captor, your.. what what he to you?

his arm was wrapped around you, the tv droning away in the background as you seemed to disassociate, swaying in his lap as his hand came to rest on your full belly, stroking it gently with his thumb.

"you good?" he hummed, "or are you just tired, hm? your belly must be full, ain't it, angel,"

you swallowed, your eyes roaming back onto his face as you processed what he was saying. from directly below, his face looked gentler, his eyes less daunting, and his thick eyebrows furrowed in worry. he leaned in, planting a kiss on the tip of your nose.

it was weird. his kisses felt weird now. there was a lack of something. you two had kissed before when you were younger. stupid kids, 'practicing' kissing, two drunk adults barely hitting the legal drinking age, kissing while drunk together at a bar.

his hand was cupping your clothed crotch. it wasn't anything sexual, he claimed he just liked the intimacy, the closeness, and the trust you had in him.

he fixed the bow in your hair, his eyes roaming your face slowly. if someone pointed a gun at your head right now, you wouldn't be able to tell them what the hell was playing on tv because all you could focus on was how handsome he looked from this angle. the feeling was potent, poisonous, nauseous, toxic.

his free arm cupped your cheek as he chuckled, "you didn't answer me, angel,"

"oh.. sorry. i'm okay," you breathed out

he hummed in response as you leaned in, capturing his lips. the feeling was indescribable like something had changed in the wiring of your brain, like someone had injected a foreign substance into your blood. your lips moved naturally with his like you were meant for him, made for him.

"wrapped like a nice little present for me, aren't you?" suguru lifted a hand, pulling your hair back to open your lips, glossed and colored for him. it was nasty, how he spit in your mouth, how you knew what every tug, every pull from him meant. you had lost your virginity to him long before he locked you in here. complicated didn't even begin to describe your relationship with him.

you swallowed it, his toxic essence, the warmth sliding down your throat as he nearly grinned. his hand on your crotch traveled lower, his pointer and middle finger poking into the concave where he knew your pussy was. he knew every inch of you, every curve and crevice, and you knew all of him. knew he loved it when you reached up to his adam's apple and brushed it with your thumb, he'd let out a quiet whine, or if you bit down anywhere on his torso, he'd get embarrassingly hard.

"i can feel you getting wet, angel," he murmured, "you want this?"

he waited until you nodded before moving his hand to the waistband of your pajamas, sliding down under your white cotton panties and rubbing at your clit gently. you whined before he leaned in, his cold, chapped lips on yours.

"shh, shh.. be a good girl, c'mere," he carried you, placing you gently down on the couch so your head was resting on the armrest. he caged you under his arms, one hand coming up to stroke your cheek before placing his fingers before your face, lanky pale fingers coated in your slick. he took a long, hard inhale of your scent on his fingers before putting them in his mouth, sucking hard before popping them out.

"stop, suguru, that's so embarrassing," you huffed out, looking away.

"yeah? i bet you're getting wetter, aren't you?" he grinned before pulling your pajamas down, leaving you in your top, your panties, and a bow, "dirty fuckin' girl, aren't you?"

you reached down, palming his crotch as you mewled in want. he sucked his teeth before reaching down, pulling your panties slowly down, watching your slick stick your panties as he peeled them off your pussy,

"shit, merry christmas to us, huh?"

his dick was lanky and pale like him. veiny, with a sensitive head. you felt it prodding against your pussy as he slowly pushed in, hissing as your pussy clenched around his long dick. your hand came up to his throat as he began moving in you with slow, long thrusts. you rubbed his adam's apple gently as he began thrusting harder, his tip reaching your cervix and brushing your cervix. he whined, his hips stuttering.

"do that again, angel, fuck yeah, squeeze it a little,"

the sight was filthy. being split open on your best friend's couch, the same best friend who kidnapped you however long ago, the one you knew inside and out. your pussy dripping all over the couch cushions as his big dick always made you a sloppy mess.

"suguu, i'm close!" you mewl, squeezing his throat a little tighter as he continues pounding your pussy, one of his hands coming down to rub at your clit.

"cum for me, be a good girl, my good girl-fuck, my only good girl,"

he thrust ropes of white, thick cum deep into your pussy, coating your insides with the translucent liquid as it spilled out of your pussy as he pulled out. leaning down, he ignored your yelp as he pushed his cum into you with his tongue, not forgetting to swirl it a bit around your clit before traveling back up to your lips.

he paused, contemplating what to do. you two constantly danced around the gray area of what you considered intimacy. your relationship with him, what were you to him? what was he to you? he gave you a short peck before cleaning you up.

he pulled you back into his lap as he tucked himself away, "i've been meaning to give you this," he mumbled, pulling something out of his pocket. you turned your head to the sound of metal clinking.

a set of keys to his house.

"you want freedom, don't you?" he chuckled, grabbing your hand and placing it in your palm, "it's all yours,"

you were still dizzy from the waves of your orgasm. freedom. how empty it sounded from the mouth of the devil.

[jnnul]

falling in love at first sight (x3)

a/n: so i woke up in cold sweat and i had to write this. there's like 30k i could've written about this but tbh, i needed to get this out lol. also taesan has been living in my head rent free so this is his eviction notice. quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!

word count: 6.3k

tags: college au!, basketballplayer!taesan x nurse!y/n, honestly it's just a fluff piece, idiots in love, dongmin is DOWN BAD and falls in love with the same girl 3 times, uhh y/n is a feisty nurse warnings: taesan is called dongmin, uhh alcohol + memory loss involved with getting shitfaced lol

HAN DONGMIN DIDN'T REALLY BELIEVE IN SUPERSTITIONS. to him, things like 'knocking on wood' or 'not opening an umbrella inside' were just old wives' tales that didn't have much substance to them.

but after dongmin had shattered his bedroom mirror this morning (he'd accidentally launched his alarm clock across the room after sleeping too late last night), nearly every single thing in his life had gone wrong.

he'd put expired milk in his cereal because kim donghyun (his roommate) hadn't switched out the milk like he'd promised to the day before. then he went to take a shower, only to be burned by scalding hot water since the landlord refused to change the heating system, even though they'd been suffering through the sticky heat of august for fifteen days already. as if all of that wasn't enough, he'd accidentally torn his favorite hoodie trying to clean up the fragments that'd fallen on the floor. and when he was trying to salvage his hoodie, he scraped his forearm against the fragments, meaning he had a nasty gash along the long side of it.

which meant he'd have to go to the hospital to take care of this stupid bloody mess instead of going to class.

that was how han dongmin found himself sitting in the waiting room of the urgent care center of the hospital, a shoddy rag wrapped around his forearm, his essentials hoodie covered in blood, expired milk, and mirror dust.

needless to say, dongmin had gotten more than a few strange looks from the other people in the waiting room in the last four minutes he'd been there.

"han dongmin!" the receptionist calls out, and dongmin launches himself out of his chair, impatient to get this over with as soon as possible.

something about hospitals just gave dongmin the heebie jeebies. the fluorescent lighting, the smell of rubbing alcohol, the tangible feeling of sickness that wafted through the air.

ugh. dongmin hated hospitals. in fact, he was so sure that he would never even step foot in a hospital after this. if he needed to wrap himself in bubble wrap to do so, then so be it because he hated hospitals and he would never come ba -

dongmin stops dead in his tracks, right next to the recovery bed that the receptionist had led him to. standing in front of him was the most gorgeous person he'd ever seen in his life.

you were smiling at something the patient in front of you was saying, leaning over to bandage the patient's scrape with a little bandaid that had cartoon ryans all over it.

fuck that.

dongmin was ready to break his leg if it meant that he got to stay in the hospital and stare at your beautiful face all day. before he could find something big and heavy to knock his leg into, however, you make your way over to dongmin, clipboard and first aid kit in hand.

"hello," you say with a soft smile. "my name is y/n l/n and i'll be taking care of you today. is there anything i can help you with?"

"will you go out with me?" the words escape dongmin's mouth before he can even process what he's saying and you immediately lean backwards, a disproving wrinkle between your eyebrows.

"excuse me?" you say, and it's clear that dongmin's not gonna be in your good graces if he hits on you. he really hoped you were like this with everyone and not that you just found him super unattractive or anything (donghyun swore up and down that dongmin was not ugly - especially now that he'd dyed his hair! but donghyun also never had to chase after a girl in his life so...). or worse, if you already had a boyfriend.

but before he can ruminate about your affronted stance too deeply, dongmin rushes to fix his mistake. "i mean, hospitals really freak me out. the ethanol smell and the lighting and everything kinda gets in my head, you know what i mean? do you think you could just slap some gauze on outside?"

the tension in your shoulders immediately relaxes and you take a step forward once more, setting the first aid kit down next to dongmin.

"oh yeah, that makes sense," you say, sounding relieved. "unfortunately, i can only provide care while inside the hospital to make sure that the instruments and gauze are sterile to prevent any contamination. i promise i'll be as quick as possible so i can get you out of here!" you explain, a slight pout tugging your lips down in the most adorable way as you seem genuinely sorry for dongmin.

it was official: han dongmin was in love.

"no, don't worry. take your time. i mean, the cut is pretty bad and i don't wanna leave any mirror guts in it," dongmin says. as quick as possible, my ass, he thinks to himself. i gotta find a way to make this last for as long as i can.

"of course!" you assure, before looking down at the clipboard. "so i assume you cut yourself on a broken mirror? does it hurt when you apply pressure?"

what was the answer that would keep you here longer?

"yes?"

"are you asking me or telling me?"

"telling?"

"very convincing. i'm gonna need to apply pressure and confirm for myself then, if that's alright with you?" you look at him in a way that seems to be somewhat apprehensive and dongmin has never wanted to reverse time more than in this very instant.

until he doesn't because your hands are on his forearm, examining the wound gently and applying pressure around the open gash.

"does it hurt when i do this?" you ask, eyes trained on the way that his forearm muscles ripple and move as you apply pressure in different places.

dongmin's not the most buff guy on the planet, and you checking out his muscles was definitely not for your own pleasure, but at least all of his time on the court and in the gym has paid off in some way.

"uh...no. not unless you're super close to the cut," dongmin says and you nod with a gentle smile. it's in that moment that dongmin decides that he would kill anyone and anything just to see you smile like that again,

"that's good to hear. well, i guess that all we need to do is 'slap some gauze on' after disinfecting the wound and making sure we don't have any 'mirror guts' in it," you say, a hint of cheekiness in your tone. dongmin doesn't know what it is about it but it makes him blush, regardless.

"yeah. that sounds good," he says dreamily, trying hard to compose himself once more when you flash him a questioning look.

you work carefully on his arm, making sure to give a tiny little stress ball to dongmin to use when you descend upon his wound with some antibacterial medicine and rubbing alcohol on a cotton ball.

"so, uh, you look pretty young for a doctor...?" dongmin says, trying very hard to focus his attention on you instead of the stinging pain that came with every touch of the cotton ball on his wound. the more he looked at you, the more he began to wonder if he'd seen you somewhere before.

dongmin wasn't the superstitious type, and didn't exactly believe in 'love at first sight', but no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't place you anywhere in his memory.

"that might be because 'm not a doctor," you say somewhat distractedly. "i'm a nursing student."

"oh. oh! you're a nursing student?" he asks. student. that means that you were either his age or just a few years older than him. and it also probably meant that you were a student at a university near by - maybe his?

"yep. a second year. although, don't worry, i've completed all of my first aid clinicals last year itself," you explain, leaning back in satisfaction when you finish cleaning up the wound.

"my school has a pretty famous nursing program, you know. maybe you've heard of yonsei's nursing program?" dongmin asks, eyes shining with hope.

it's only then that you look up at dongmin with an excited look in your eyes, turning to throw away the used cotton balls.

"i go to yonsei as well! i'm just starting my second year. it's a little strange because the nursing program runs through the summer, which is why i'm working clinicals right now. i'm almost done though, so i'll be switching into a field i'm more interested in," you say and dongmin swears he hears wedding bells in his mind. beautiful, kind, intelligent, and the same age as him? it was like god was basically handing his soulmate to him on a platter. maybe love at first sight was real after all.

"me too! well, i'm not a nursing major, but i'm a second year electrical engineering major," dongmin says, watching you turn back towards him with a clipboard.

"mhm, well, i've gotta tell you to be careful for the next week or so. no heavy lifting, sports, and definitely no cutting things. we don't want to make the wound worse, now do we?" you say chidingly, scribbling instructions on the clipboard of how to clean the wound with rubbing alcohol and how many pills of ibuprofen to take per day.

"of course," dongmin says half-heartedly. as much as dongmin hated the feeling of pain, the was the only way that he could think of to get to see you again was to somehow hurt himself again.

"how about you come back in a week to just make sure that it closed up well? make sure it didn't get infected or anything?" you ask, handing him the sheet of paper.

god was real.

dongmin swore he was going to go to church and donate at least 10,000 won for the blessing after blessing he was receiving today.

"oh sure," he says, a mischievous thought popping into his head. "but is it ok if i find you on campus? i have a lot of labs over the next week and i can't miss them if i can't even participate in them, so i can at least get the information. i won't really have time to stop by the hospital," dongmin says carefully, watching your expression to ensure that it wasn't changing with every word that escaped your lips.

technically, it wasn't a lie. dongmin did have a lot of labs next week but that's definitely not why he wouldn't have time to stop by the hospital.

"i don't see why not. i don't need any sterile instruments to just check quickly, so that shouldn't be an issue," you say slowly, nodding to yourself as you look around the little station to make sure you wouldn't need any of the equipment.

"perfect," dongmin says, shuffling out of the bed that he was sitting in to leave before turning around nonchalantly. "do you think i could get your number? so i know where to find you?"

you look up at him, and dongmin tries his best to seem sincere and genuine rather than as calculating as he felt, trying every tactic possible to see you again.

"yeah. yeah, here let me type it into your phone."

he hands his phone over to you, and it takes every single fiber of his being to keep himself from looking excited about any part of this transaction. you were already suspicious enough of him; you definitely didn't need more reasons to add to the list.

you're frowning slightly when you hand the phone back to him so dongmin pockets it without a second thought, to prove that he wasn't trying to be weird.

"thank you so much again." dongmin waves as he leaves, flashing the award-winning smile that he usually reserves for aunties and restaurant owners for free sides. oh, and for his fans.

you don't blush and trip over yourself when he does like his fans do - although you offer him a soft smile in return.

although, dongmin muses, i guess it would be weird if a nurse who met me for the first time would be anything like a college basketball star's fan though. maybe.

he shakes his head, opening the door to the hospital, looking down at his arm wrapped in gauze. yeah. there was no way that dongmin was taking a break from basketball. season started in less than three weeks and as yonsei's point guard, he had no choice but to just power through the injury.

it might work out in his favor after all. at least it would give him more chances to see you.

+++

turns out, the universe gives him a chance less than two days after he sees you for the first time. and in any other case, dongmin would be incredibly excited to see you again. he'd probably be ready, waiting with freshly showered hair and clean clothes and nice smelling cologne.

instead, when he sees you again, he's wearing raggedy shorts, a stained shirt, and holding a basketball that he definitely should not be holding.

dongmin knew he was fucked the moment you walked in through the double doors that opened up to the indoor basketball court of yonsei, light spilling in from the outdoors, along with the chatter and excitement of students returning to university.

you walk in wearing white, along with six other people dressed similarly, the basketball team's physician (dr. moon taeil) at the head of them all. dongmin hopes that you don't recognize him - or at least don't see him actively playing but of course, you manage to turn your head to see dongmin throw the ball out of his hands in a random direction in panic.

the ball, then of course, managed to fall neatly through the hoop, as though dongmin had intentionally thrown it there, causing him to want to die on the spot.

so he couldn't do that during a game with korea university, but now that he was doing everything in his power to keep you from seeing him play basketball, now he manages to throw it in the one place it shouldn't go.

your eyes narrow when dongmin turns to face you, your gaze falling to his (poorly) wrapped forearm. he offers you a trembling grin, which slowly turns into a frown when you look away, shaking your head as you start talking to the girl next to you.

at least you wouldn't say anything to coach about how he wasn't supposed to be playing right now, dongmin thinks to himself. even if i've effectively ruined my chances of her ever believing me about anything ever again. uh. not that i've had more than one conversation with her. or might have more in the future.

dongmin shivers, jogging over to where the basketball had fallen to pick it up and return to his place at the three-point line and continue shooting practice.

he returns to where he's supposed to be practicing, so that his back is facing the group of people who'd entered - namely, you.

"i forgot coach mentioned that we've got new on-site medical staff," dongmin mutters to himself, dribbling the ball before lining up his shot. "i didn't know that she'd be a part of that though - she can't be the sporty type if she didn't recognize me from the hospital."

dongmin is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't even feel the dark presence looming over him until the ball is released from his hand.

"HAN DONGMIN!" someone yells, right next to his ear, and dongmin scrambles to attention, wincing when the basketball bounces off the rim and into the cart of basketballs he was practicing with with a resounding clang!

he turns slowly, eyes closed, as if that would make you go away.

"i cannot believe that i bandaged you up so carefully just for you to start playing again! how could you be so careless? do you not want to be able to play during the season? you're yonsei's ace and you're being this irresponsible!" you're heaving by the end of your rant and dongmin blinks, trying to come up with a response.

you definitely didn't know him well enough to yell at him like this - much less in front of all of his teammates - but for some reason, that's not what stuck out to dongmin.

(much to his chagrin, you being angry was hot. like really hot. especially since he'd thought you'd be the soft and cozy type, not the impulsive and quick to anger type. he really liked this side of you.)

"you know who i am?" he asks slowly.

"OF COURSE I KNOW WHO YOU ARE! OH, YOU ARE GETTING ON MY NERVES. YOU ASS, I DIDN'T BANDAGE YOU UP THAT NEATLY FOR YOU TO BE WALKING AROUND SHOOTING THREES!"

you're yelling at him, and for some reason, dongmin has never wanted to kiss someone more in his life. he'd never though he'd be this attracted to someone that he's just met yelling at him, much less in front of his entire team and her own entire team. but for some reason, as dongmin looks at you waving your hands all crazy and annoyed, all he can think about it how much he likes you.

it wasn't just physical. of course, he thought you were beautiful - possibly the most beautiful person he'd ever seen in his life and he would die on that hill - but it was more than that. it was as though he'd genuinely fallen in love at first sight.

you could tell him that you were a serial killer and at this point, dongmin would just admire your bloodlust.

"uh. dongmin?" coach jung says behind him, hands crossed over his chest. "do you guys need a moment to step out and come back?"

even coach jung seems a little bit intimidated by your livid state of being and dongmin has to cough to cover up his life.

"no coach. we're done here," you say, turning dramatically on your heel to turn back to your friends. but dongmin moves quicker than even his own mind can process what happens.

before he can think, his hand is wrapped around your wrist, spinning you closer to him, almost as if the two of you were ballroom dancing.

you look up at him, shocked, but dongmin is slow to let go of your wrist, not wanting to lose contact with you.

"no, we need just a moment," dongmin says, his eyes never leaving your own. it's clear that you neither expected this nor were used to this kind of behavior from anyone and before the fight that's building inside of you bubbles out, dongmin tilts his head toward the door that leads to a hallway extending to the equipment room, practically begging you with his eyes.

you aqcuiesce - or at least, dongmin thinks you do - from the way that your shoulder melt just the slightest and you let him pull you into the hallway.

"what?" you snap the second the door shuts behind the two of you. "okay, maybe i didn't let on that i knew you from our encounter, but that's irrelevant. i didn't need to tell you that i knew you. and besides, as your healthcare provider, it would have been extremely irresponsible on my end for me to let slip that i'm a fan - or that i know you personally at all."

dongmin can't help but let a small smile slip. "personally? we know each other personally?"

you fluster in that moment, looking anywhere but at dongmin, bringing a large smile to his face. he'd never thought that the feisty, quick to temper and quick to lose it, loud type was his type but he was starting to enjoy it very much.

"alright, well i know you personally enough, alright?" you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. "we've met before."

now it's dongmin's turn to look flustered, as he wracks his brain, trying to come up when or where the two of you have met before. he wasn't the one-night-stand type, so that couldn't be it. he also didn't have an insane amount of friends outside of the basketball team and donghyun's friends, so that wasn't it either.

"i'm really sorry - and i'm definitely trying to hit on you, just not right now - but i don't remember. i'd definitely remember someone like you," dongmin says, and he's well aware of the fact that his tone does not sound any level of displeased, and rather dreamy.

you roll your eyes, looking down at the ground. "we kissed once. twice actually. but um. that's not my point."

you clear your throat, as if you hadn't just dropped the biggest bomb of the century on dongmin, shaking your head. "why the hell are you playing basketball on an injured arm anyway? i specifically said no sports!"

dongmin raises an eyebrow. "you say you're my fan and yet you're still asking me why i'm playing when we have our first game in a week. and hold on. i'm not letting go of that first part; we've kissed? twice?"

you shrug, but it's clear that you don't think of it as nonchalantly as you're trying to make it sound when you speak. "yeah. in freshman year. once in spring semester and then once in fall. it's not a big deal. to you at least. clearly you kiss a lot of girls, if you don't even remember us kissing at all."

"now that's not fair," dongmin pouts, but he's well aware that he's not conveying this well at all. suddenly, a flash of a girl wearing a red dress, looking up at him with big eyes and a pouty lips crosses his mind.

good god. were - were you dongmin's mystery girl?

+++

"what do you mean dongmin finally found his mystery girl? the one he's been crushing on for a full year?" myung jaehyun says incredulously, instantly pulling out his phone to look you up on instagram.

dongmin sits in the middle of his friends, all sitting at the same table as they were supposed to be eating lunch, his head resting in his hands.

"you mean the one that he swore was the love of his life? god, he wouldn't shut up about that for at least six months," lee sanghyuk says, shoveling noodles in his mouth.

"try a year," donghyun groans, rubbing his forehead in pain. "do you remember the state of this kid when he woke up the next day?"

"good god, it was horrible. all he could say for a full week was that he wanted to jump out of the window because he'd lost her number and that he was never going to find true love because he couldn't remember her name, number, or even what she looked like," sanghyuck adds.

park sungho, the newest addition to their friend group, blinks, looking at dongmin, who's head is still in his hands.

"you were down bad, man," he muses and jaehyun on the side of him snorts.

"down bad doesn't even begin to describe it. it got to the point where we had 'girl in the red dress' and 'true love' jars because he would talk about her." jaehyun sighed, looking at dongmin pointedly. "he'd put enough money that we'd bought alc for the rest of freshman year. just in spring semester."

"that's what you get for trying to prove that you could drink a 4lokos without getting shitfaced," donghyun says, nose crinkling as he recalled the hours he had to spend making sure that dongmin wasn't going to die by choking on his own spit. "and he went and did it twice. it took us months to get to the point where we could invite this guy anywhere so as long as he swore not to bring her up again."

dongmin looks up, almost excitedly. "do you think that if i drink another 4lokos, we'll kiss at another party?"

sungho leans over, smacking him upside the head. "you're so fucking dumb. and i can tell just by these stories. you're not allowed to drink until season's over, idiot. and she's on your medical team. why don't you start by making a good impression while you're not so drunk you're going to start insisting that spongebob is hydrophobic."

("you were there when that happened?")

("you idiot, you thought i was spongebob. you kept throwing my drinks away because you thought i was going to disappear into them if i drank them. which makes no sense because that's not what hydrophobic means.")

("oh. sorry man.")

"yeah. just go to the med clinic tomorrow, apologize to her, and bring her flowers or something. women eat that shit up!" sanghyuk says with a mouthful of noodles and jaehyun nods, pointing his chopsticks at him excitedly.

"they do! my girlfriend always feels better with food and flowers," he says, cheeks stuffed to the brim with carbonara.

dongmin's mind races with all of the implications of doing so, but every single one of his thoughts fade away in light of the fact that he could redeem himself in your eyes. he slams his hands down on the table, swinging his legs over the bench to run to the nearest flower shop.

"i'll be back before practice!" dongmin calls out over his shoulder, waving a quick goodbye as he sprints towards the florists.

he makes it to the edge of the courtyard before he hears the yelling of his friends behind him, turning to see them waving at him (and waving some very rude fingers at him).

"YOU FORGOT YOUR WALLET, YOU IDIOT!"

+++

dongmin's friends were useless. absolutely useless.

he'd went and bought the prettiest bouquet of flowers he could find, a nice meal from his favorite bento place, and had even bought three different types of ice cream bars because he didn't know which one you'd like.

he'd walked right into the medical clinic office, his apology gifts all in hand, ready to apologize to you, redeem his honor, and become your own true love.

the last part probably wasn't going to work anyway, but the first two should've been foolproof.

instead, he manages to prove that he was a fool.

as it turns out, he wasn't the only person who thought that the flowers were beautiful; dongmin had managed to bring the queen bee as a secret surprise in the bouquet, which meant that the rest of her hive was NOT very happy that he'd committed royal kidnap, as far as the bees were concerned.

"HAN DONGMIN WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!" you yell from underneath your desk, where you were hiding from the sudden swarm of bees that had followed dongmin in.

he doesn't respond, too busy opening the window to drop the flowers out of, hesitating when he sees the number of people that were lounging around the courtyard that the medical office looked out of.

dongmin lines up the bouquet, sending a prayer to god (any one that would listen) as he shoots the best three he's ever shot in his life, so that the bouquet (and all of the bees that accompanied it) landed far away enough from people to prevent them from getting hurt.

of course, a few brave souls had stayed behind to exact revenge for their queen on dongmin, resulting in upwards of five bee stings, before dongmin finally evaded the great medical bee disaster once and for all.

he turns sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

"i don't suppose i could find medical care in this clinic, could i?" he says, and he's well aware of the fact that he's flushed bright red, as he always seems to when he's made a fool of himself.

thankfully, there are only four or five people, including you, in the office to witness this disaster - although, dongmin can see the girl you were talking to yesterday surpressing a smile.

"yeah, of course you could. but we're all headed on break so unfortunately, y/n is the only person who's gonna be able to give you medical care. you know, since you've already brought lunch for her," your friend says with a knowing grin. she ushers the rest of the medical staff out of the office, closing the door behind her with a telltale click.

"you can come out from under the desk now," dongmin says, and despite the situation, he finds it adorable that in the case of a bee swarm, your first instinct had been to hide underneath a desk.

"i was going to," you grumble, slinking out from your hiding spot and dusting off invisible dust from your pants. "what were you thinking, bringing flowers with bees in them?"

dongmin blushes, tilting his head as he tries to look anywhere but where you were. "i wanted to apologize to you. in my defense, i kinda always thought bees were made up. i mean, they're so fat! there's no way they should be able to fly. that directly violates like every law of aviation in the world."

your eyebrow quirks upward as you look at the ice cream and lunch he had set down on your desk in his bee-induced panic. "i can't believe you're quoting the bee movie at me right now."

"i can't believe you know i'm quoting the bee movie. i should've known the love of my life was an internet connoiseur," dongmin says with a sigh, examining the bee stings on his arm. how did these bees even manage to crawl underneath the sleeves of his shirt?

"excuse me?" you bark, hands on your hips. "did you just call me the love of your life? when you couldn't even remember who i was like yesterday?"

"okay, wait. you don't understand. first, i need you to help me out by getting some ointment on these stings because they're starting to burn and i don't know if that's so normal. and then, i'll explain everything, trust me."

you reluctantly reach back into a cabinet that reads 'insect stings' and grab the kit for bee stings, pulling a cream out of it, beckoning dongmin to come closer so that you could treat it.

"do you remember what happened that night? or those two nights, i guess?" you ask softly, eyes trained on dongmin's arm so that you don't have to look him in the eyes and he nods.

"i remember. well, as much as i can, anyway. i was blackout drunk both times. and from what i remember, you weren't exactly sober either, so i don't know how you remember me but trust me, whatever you think about me is not true. i was - i was so down bad that my friends had to make a 'no y/n' jar!" dongmin yelps the last part when your hand on his arm presses a little too hard.

"i'm sorry! sorry!" you gasp, immediately leaning over to blow cool air on the place you'd accidentally put too much pressure. "what do you mean by a no 'no y/n' jar though? i thought you didn't remember my name."

"i didn't! and it killed me! i don't remember exactly what happened those nights but i remember how much i liked you. i remember thinking that i'd never meet a girl like you in my life. it still frustrates me that i lost your number - although, i do remember the part where you smacked me over the head the second time that we met. i think i suffered permanent brain damage from that.

"but i remember glimpses of that night. like that red dress you were wearing and how much you were rambling about stars. you were giving me an in-depth explanation about how black holes work and something about how rockets look like they're stuck in time in black holes. not the point. but the point is that i genuinely fell in love with you that first night we met.

"i've got this horrid habit though, when i get drunk - i become either super scared of water, or super infatuated with it. it's honestly a coin-toss. so imagine my feeling the next morning when i wake up with a dissolved piece of paper in my pocket that's supposed to have your number on it, semi-wet clothes, and a raging migraine.

"i thought i met the love of my life and i couldn't even remember her name, number, or even her face. it drove me and my friends absolutely nuts. me because i didn't know how to find you when i couldn't remember anything. my friends went insane because i would talk about you so much that they bought me those swear jars for every time i mentioned you.

"of course, i didn't know your name so you were just 'the love of my life' or 'girl in the red dress' but i think i dumped at least 300,000 won in those jars by the end of the semester. and then as if the universe was out to make my life living hell, we met again and i was shitfaced again. i swore to never touch a 4lokos after that, if that's any level of redemption.

"anyway. i brought you flowers and all this stuff because i wanted to tell you that - that i've liked you for a lot longer than even i've known! i remember most of the conversations that we had, even if i couldn't remember exactly who you were. when i saw you at the hospital, i genuinely thought i was falling in love at first sight. but i guess, that's kinda not true. cause that would be my third time falling in love at first sight."

"why, though? three times? i mean, i don't think i'm ugly or anything but three times? yeah, i mean i guess i kinda also had a thing for you after those two nights. god. i wish i remembered what we talked about for us to get this attached," you say, mumbling the last part. dongmin turns to you somewhat confused, watching you as you open up the bento box he'd bought you.

"you don't remember what we talked about? besides the black holes and stuff?"

"nope. but i've also got a horrible reputation amongst my friends for how much i talked about you. the worst part is that i remembered you but not what we talked about. it was so stupid because no one believed me that han dongmin, yonsei's point guard was the guy i'd had my heart for the past year." you instinctively smile the moment you take a bite of the food and even though it's so small, dongmin's heart swells with pride.

"why didn't you ever come up to me? i mean, this whole year of pining could've been avoided if you'd talked to me," dongmin says, accepting the ice cream bar you handed him. how the hell did you know that was his favorite ice cream?

"i gave you my number once, and i kissed you twice. i figured you were just ghosting me at some point if you weren't going to reach out to me. and besides, nursing really picked up right after basketball season so...i kinda just ended up torturing my friends for the past year," you say, somewhat sheepishly, but dongmin is barely even listening anymore.

after all, how many people can say that they fell in love at first sight with the same person three times?

"well. we're here now. will you go out with me? i promise i won't even touch a 4lokos!"

"deal. as long as you promise to tell me everything we talked about that night. i still can't tell why i fell so hard for you that i chased you down a basketball court in front of your whole team."

"my stellar looks? my killer smile? my stupidly handsome personality? my superb basketball skills?"

"try your stupid attraction to water molecules."

"i have a feeling i shouldn't have told you about that."

+++

freshman year, spring semester.

"really? you've never fallen in love before?" you ask incredulously. you and dongmin are sitting on the balcony of some random friend who decided to throw a party, feet dangling over the edges in between the bars.

"nah. i don't think so," dongmin says, leaning backwards on his palms. "i don't think i've ever met someone who's ever made me feel like my entire heart is their's to do whatever they want to do with."

"then let's play this game," you say, clumsily pulling out your phone. "that one thing on new york times, where you fall in love with someone within 36 questions."

"why? you want me to fall in love with you?" dongmin says, leaning over with a cheeky smile. you push him playfully, focused on trying to pull up the questions list.

"you'd do that whether i told you to or not," you fire back. "and besides, i think i'm a fantastic kisser. so you're probably already in love."

"you're right," dongmin says with a sigh. "i think i am."

freshman year, fall semester.

"question 36. i can't believe we never finished all the questions last time," you say. this time the two of you are sitting so close, dongmin can still taste the watermelon chapstick you're wearing. at this point though, dongmin might as well be the one wearing it.

"to be fair, last time i think we were otherwise preoccupied."

"get your mind out of the gutter!"

"i was talking about how many times you kept getting distracted by the dog."

"anyway. we're on question 36; are you in love with me yet?"

"i should be asking you that. i've been in love."

"han dongmin! i thought you weren't the superstitious type?"

"i'll be whatever you want me to be."

[honnelander]

busgirl

once again i got carried away and wrote way more than i planned too lol thank you to the lovely anon who requested this and i hope i did your prompt justice request: what if the reader’s a merchant’s daughter who was supposed to marry a suitor but she runs away and ends up meeting sanji

WARNINGS: none

word count: 3.4k

pairing: opla!sanji x fem!reader

summary: reader is arranged to be married but she won't stand for it. so what does she do? she runs away and meets one particular chef, begging him for help

masterlist

taglist: @smol-book-nerd @shuujin @smolracoon25 @mischiefmanaged71 @amanda08319

You never imagined your life turning out like this: still living with your father at this grown age, never having gone beyond your small island town ever in your life, and waking up every day just to relive the same day over and over again. It was torture.

Every single day of your life has been the same since you left school: you woke up before the sun rose, made breakfast for you and your father, helped prepare the wagon for its daily trip into town, then spend all day yelling in the town's square trying to sell any shoes you could (your father was a shoe merchant), pack up the unsold product at the end of the day, head home, make dinner, then go to bed soon after cleaning up just so you could wake up and do the same things all over again. You hated it.

But what could you really do to change anything? You were born to a poor shoe merchant and ever since your mother had died, things had become even tighter for your small family, of now, two.

Your father never had much, barely a penny to his name, so that meant you also had no money to your name either. Sure, you could've started a side hustle of scams and cons, maybe trying your luck at playing poker at the docks whenever pirates showed up, but how could you just leave your father like that? Just leave him all alone once you scraped together enough berry to buy a one-way ticket out of this town? As much as you were tempted, you couldn't. It didn't feel right. And besides, you were always too exhausted at the end of the day to do anything else anyway.

But then one day, your father said something that would change your life forever.

The day started out like any other. You had cooked a quick meal of toast and eggs for yourselves and once you finished your plate, you moved to get up to put the dishes in the sink for later.

But before you could get out of your seat, your dad grabbed your wrist gently, telling you to stay seated. "Actually, y/n, no need to rush this morning. We're not going into town today."

"What?" You were taken aback. You couldn't remember a day where you both didn't do this daily routine. "Why?"

Your father couldn't look at you in the eye. Instead, he kept his focus on his half-eaten breakfast, which was also weird. He normally finished eating before you. "Y/n...you know I wouldn't do this unless I had no other choice," he started.

You felt your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach. What was happening?

"But business has been really slow lately, and I tried to hold this off for as long as I could," he continued.

"Hold what off?"

He kept talking like you hadn't said anything. "But there really was no other choice." He swallowed and finally looked up and the look in his eyes scared you. You've never seen your father look that upset before...the only other time he had looked like that had been when mom died.

You tried to swallow but your mouth was dry. "Dad, what's going on?"

"And you know I always will love you, right?"

"Dad," you said a little more sternly, your heart beating a thousand miles a minute. "What is happening?" After a moment of silence, you repeated yourself. "Dad, answer me."

His next sentence hit you like a ton of bricks. "Y/n, I arranged for you to be married."

You couldn't move. "What?" you breathed.

Like always, your father continued on like you hadn't said a word. "He's a nice man, a decent man. His name is Olaf and he's from the North Blue, comes from money..."

You felt your dad tighten his grip on your wrist and suddenly you felt like you were being suffocated. You ripped your hand away from your dad's grip, the sting of betrayal hurting more than any cut or wound ever could. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you fought your hardest not to let them fall. "You sold me?" your voice quivered.

Those three words finally got your dad's attention. He looked into your eyes again, hurt evident in his gaze, but you realized you didn't care. Not anymore. "No," he replied firmly. "You know I would never sell you to anyone. I would never do that."

A humorous laugh escaped your lips. "Oh? But you'd put me in an arranged marriage instead? For money?" When you blinked, tears fell down your cheeks. "Are we really that poor dad?" you spat.

"Y/n-"

"Why didn't you tell me how bad off we were before? Before-" you stuttered and waved your arms around, "before all of this? I could've- I could've done something, anything." You ran a hand through your hair as you exhaled, a sardonic smile appearing on your face as you looked up to the ceiling, up to whatever God had subjected you to this cruel fate.

"There's nothing you could've done, y/n."

"You don't know that!" you exclaimed. Pure hot red rage adorning your features as your furious eyes snapped down to look at your dad. "I could've hustled, I could've conned the guys down at the dock for some money. I could've done something instead of nothing!"

"And then what? End up dead in a dark alley once those men found out you stole money from them? End up raped?" Your dad's anger matched yours, his voice growing louder with each sentence. "Maybe become a pirate? There is no way I would ever let that happen to you y/n."

Your dad hated pirates and you knew he would rather die before he ever let you become one.

You flung your arms up in exasperation. rolling your eyes as you let out a frustrated groan. "Oh I don't know dad," you yelled, "maybe I could've joined the Marines or something!"

But your dad didn't like the Marines either. He believed pirates and Marines were the same person, just in different clothes.

"I wouldn't let you do that either, you know that y/n."

Suddenly, a thought stuck you: you were an adult, so why was your father still making all of these major life decisions for you? It didn't make sense.

But you knew one thing: you certainly weren't going to marry some rich guy you didn't know from the North Blue. Not if you were still living and breathing.

You glanced at the open window behind your dad, seeing the early morning tinges of a sunrise lighting up the sky. Perfect, you thought. Docked ships normally didn't leave port until the sun broke the horizon, so you had a chance to hop aboard any ship that would take you far far away from here. Away from your miserable life and a father you were realizing you hated.

The sky started becoming brighter by the minute and your heart rate started to spike. You estimated you had around 20 minutes or so until the sunrise broke and if you were serious about running away, it was now or never.

Suddenly, you stood up from the kitchen table and realized that your father had stopped whatever he was saying to look at you with a curious expression.

"Y/n?"

"Y-you know what dad?" your voice shook and you swallowed your nerves. "I...I think you're right? This Olaf guy probably isn't that bad and would probably give me a better life than I ever could," you ground out and forced a smile that you were sure looked more like a grimace. "I'll do it."

If today had been a normal day, your dad would've been tipped off that something was up but he was just so relieved that you were actually agreeing to all this.

Your dad had a relieved smile on his face as he said, "That makes me so happy to hear that y/n. You have no idea."

"Y-yeah, me too," you agreed with a small nod. You reached down to pick up your plates but your hands were shaking.

Your father placed a hand on your arm. "I understand you're nervous sweetheart. Why don't you go lie down in your room? There's some time until Olaf gets here. I can handle the dishes for today."

Perfect. You agreed and nodded quickly. Thanking your dad and giving him one last look before you went up to your room and never saw him again.

--------- -----

Your lungs were burning as you ran towards the docks. You could feel sweat running down your back as you pushed yourself to run as fast as you could, arms pumping and feet kicking out dirt behind you.

The sky was beginning to turn a lighter shade of orange and a ping of fear gripped your heart.

What if you didn't make it? What if all the ships were all boarded up and ready to set sail by the time you got there? It wasn't uncommon for ships to leave a tad early since most of them had a full day at sea before them but you were so close, you just had to make it. There were probably around five minutes or so until you reached the docks and you just had to get over this ridiculous hill.

But your legs were tired and your sides were cramping and you could feel yourself slowing down due to exhaustion. You weren't a huge runner to begin with but you were literally running for your life- so what choice did you have?

If you made it through all this, you vowed to yourself that you would get better at running. Who knew the next time your life would depend on it?

As you reached the top of the hill, you took a quick second to breathe and survey the docks before you but what you saw nearly stopped your heart. There were normally a dozen or so ships that littered these docks but it looked like most of them had headed out early with only a few ships remaining, and the ones that were left? They looked like they were nearly ready to leave port as well.

With newfound urgency, you sprinted down the hill, yelling out to any sailor who would listen to your plea.

"WAIT!" you screamed. "Wait for me!"

But no one acknowledged you. You started to wave your arms around, your travel bag bouncing around as you continued to sprint.

"PLEASE! I beg you!"

As you got closer, you could start to make out the names of the few ships that were there. There was one ship called "The Happy Farewell" and you figured since they were closest you would try them first.

"Get lost girl," the ship's captain sneered. "I got no use for a girl like you."

"But please, I need to leave. You don't understand," you begged.

The captain clicked his tongue as he shook his head. "Don't we all?" he muttered. But he spared you one last glance before boarding his ship and something in your expression must've been wildly desperate because he sighed before nodding towards the ship two docks down. "Zeff's."

"What?"

"Go to Zeff's ship, girl. The Baratie. He doesn't have the heart to turn away desperate souls like yourself."

Your head whipped towards the direction the captain was looking and you saw the decent-sized Baratie standing there.

"But you better hurry," he warned. "They're setting sail as soon as we leave."

You quickly looked back at the captain to thank him but he was already walking up the plank to board his ship, barking out orders to let down the sails and hoist up the anchor.

Shit. You had to hurry.

You sprinted two docks over and once you reached the dock The Baratie was tied to, you saw a couple of men in white coats loading up the last of the crates of food onboard. You had just made it.

It was weird to you that these pirates were dressed up in matching white coats and blue bandanas around their collar but, hey, it could always be worse and you weren't in a position to be picky. You would even join a circus crew at this point.

You made your way over to the closest "pirate", a tall blonde guy that had hair almost covering his left eye. He was inspecting one of the crates, clipboard in hand and checked things off as he examined it.

"Excuse me," you huffed, trying to get this man's attention. "But I need your help. I need to speak to the ship's captain."

"Don't we all," the guy replied with a good-humored laugh and crooked smile, not looking up from his clipboard.

"Please," you urged. "It's important."

The man looked up from his clipboard and did a double-take, clearly not expecting a young woman like yourself, who looked like they just ran away from demons, asking to speak to the captain this early in the morning.

His eyebrows rose as he looked you over, his smile disappearing. "Are you alright Madam? Is something the matter?"

As his eyes scanned you over, you noticed how good-looking this guy was. And here you were, all sweaty and disheveled, your hair probably sticking out in all different directions. You prayed to whatever God was out there that you didn't have sweat stains on your shirt.

What a day this was turning out to be.

You ran your hands over your hair, trying to smooth down your flyaways and hoping you looked a bit more presentable. "I will be alright, when I speak to the captain."

"Anything I can help you with?"

What the- was this guy hitting on you? Your wandering eyes snapped back to look at this man when he asked that, looking to see if he really had the audacity to hit on you while you were begging for help, but you saw no trace of flirtation whatsoever, just concern.

"Ah- no. Unless you have the power to give me a spot on this crew."

The man's eyes lit up (you noticed they were blue). "Ah, so you want to join the Baratie? Become a chef yourself?"

You looked at him in utter confusion, blinking a couple times to make sure you heard him right. "Huh? A chef?" You looked at his outfit a little more closely and turned to examine the other men who were dressed similarly. You didn't notice it before, but they weren't just wearing any white coat, they were wearing a chef's white coat. "You guys are chefs?" you asked dumbly.

The chef, as you now noticed, rubbed his jaw as he tried to hide his smile at your obvious question. "Yes, Madam. We're chefs."

"So you're a pirate chef?"

The blonde cook couldn't hide his laugh at your series of questions, his blue eyes sparkling and white teeth showing like he had just heard the funniest joke. "No, Madam. We're just chefs. Not pirates or pirate chefs."

You felt stupid and felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "Oh." But if they were all chefs on this boat, did that mean... "Wait- do I have to be a chef in order to get on this boat?"

"Ah well, if it were up to me," he sighed, "I would give you a spot on the ship regardless if you could cook or not." He twirled the pencil between his fingers as he crossed his arm in thought. "Although, we do need some new waiters. The dining room always seems to be short-staffed..."

You opened your mouth to quickly volunteer yourself even though you never waited tables a day in your life but the blonde chef kept talking.

"Or," he thought out loud," if you really wanted to be a chef with no experience, there are ways you could get into the kitchen. We do need a new busboy. Or girl," he quickly corrected. "Move your way up and learn..."

The sun broke the horizon, the morning orange light now fading into yellow. You swallowed. You were out of time. If you couldn't get a spot on this ship then your life was over.

"I'll do it," you quickly interrupted and nodded. "I'll- I'll do anything. A chef, a waiter, a busboy or busgirl- anything. I'll even clean toilets if I have to. I just- I need to get on this ship."

Your desperate plea silenced the chef, pulling him out of his musings and you could see concern wash over his features. But before he could say anything else, a voice called out from the top of the ship's plank.

"Oi! Sanji! What the hell are you doing down there, son?" the man with a tall chef's hat and braided mustache called out. As he made his way down to the dock, you noticed one of his legs was a wooden peg instead. "The sun's broken the horizon. I don't know how many times I need to tell you this, but next time we pull out of port late, I'm shoving my leg up your ass and you're off the line for a week."

Sanji shook his head, for once not caring about the threat of not cooking, and looked at his father figure, nodding to you. "Zeff, you need to speak to this girl. You have to let her join our crew."

You watched as Zeff followed Sanji's nod and looked down at you with raised eyebrows. It was like he just noticed you were there. "Her? For the last time Sanji, I'm not letting one of your one-night stands join the crew," he said with an exasperated sigh and turned back towards the ship. "Pretty or not."

"Wait!" you called out, grabbing Zeff's arm and immediately dropping it when he turned to look at you in disbelief. "I, I don't know him," you quickly said, pointing at Sanji and taking a big step away from him to prove your point, "My name is y/n and I desperately need a spot on your ship, Sir. Please."

Zeff studied you for a moment, eyes scanning your face. "People like you normally aren't 'desperate' to join my crew."

"But I am, Sir. I," you inhaled a shaky breath at the thought that this man could also turn you away. "I can't stay here. I need to leave. I'll do anything. I can even scrub the toilets."

Zeff regarded you with a short sigh. "Lass, there's no way I would have you scrubbing toilets. I'd make him do that way before asking you," he said and jabbed a thumb at Sanji, silencing Sanji's scoff of disbelief with a look. His face became serious as he asked, "You're serious aren't you?"

You nodded. "As serious as I can be sir."

The head chef became quiet, looking at you like he was trying to figure out what you were running away from, but it wasn't any of his business. At the end of the day, everyone had a past and he wasn't there to judge.

"Alright, lass, you want a position at my restaurant that badly? You got it. Your first service as a busboy- girl, whatever- starts tonight." He pointed a finger at you and with a stern voice asked, "Everyone on this ship earns their keep, alright? And no talking back. Understood?"

Relief flooded your veins at his words, you couldn't control the smile that stretched your cheeks as you nodded. "Yes, chef."

The corner of Zeff's mouth twitched upwards in amusement and he nodded once. "Good." As he turned around to head back onto the ship, he glanced at Sanji. "I like this girl. Wherever you found her...good job, son." He started walking back up the plank onto the ship and called out, "Get those last few crates up on here, boy. We got to leave, we have a dinner service tonight!"

You frowned as you watched Zeff walk away, a little annoyed at the thought that 'Sanji found you' instead of you finding him. When you looked over at Sanji, you saw him still watching Zeff make his way up the plank, beaming slightly at the head chef's praise.

"You didn't find me. I found you," you said to your newest crewmember.

Sanji looked over at you, a small mischievous smile on his face. "And aren't you glad you did?"

Before you could correct him or slap him, you heard Zeff calling out to you from the ship's deck. "Oi! Y/n! What are you doing down there? I'm not paying you to just stand there all day with Sanji! There's a pile of dirty dishes with your name on them in the sink."

"What? Already?" you grumbled as made your way up the plank to board the ship.

From behind you, you could hear Sanji's laughter and you could hear it until you made your way inside.

[justwinginglife]

I've been deepdiving the hoshina tag and you are definitely one of my favourites to read from with the way you portray him 😭😭😭 so I'm wondering how it'd be with him and a reader that's always portrayed as the elegant and forward type... (kind of like shinobu kocho? if you're familiar with her) and on a rough mission he finds her like... heavily injured and he's thinking that it's the first time he's seen her so different from how she usually acts

this is my first time requesting ever.... so if there's some kind or etiquette I'm missing please don't hesitate to tell...........

THANK YOU SO MUCH! This means a lot to me! And, my dude, I just portray what I think of him- that he's the biggest freaking green flag EVER lol. And don't even worry about requesting etiquette, I just joined tumblr a couple weeks ago so you're totally fine, I wouldn't even know either. I'm just glad I could be your first request! Hope I do it justice, thanks again for your support. Also sorry for the wait. Also there were so many different ways I could've gone with this prompt so I hope the one I chose turns out okay.

Honest

There was always a line out the door of officers looking to train with you and today was no different.

Besides the fact that your technique was utterly flawless and you made combat look as graceful as ballet, you were also just stunningly gorgeous. Any man would die just to get a glimpse of you, let alone spar with you. Taking a punch to the face or a kick to the abdomen was an honor if it was from you.

And you were always the same with every man, you never showed any favoritism. You'd give them the same small smile, giving your honest advice when asked, but nothing more than that. You never even blinked at someone longer than you usually did with anyone else.

But even though it seemed like no one had caught (or could catch) your particular attention, there was in fact one man that you had to actively try to subdue your feelings for. You were thankful that no one had noticed that every time a certain Vice Captain walked into the room, your eyes always somehow wandered in the opposite direction of him. And when you'd hear him laugh or even just give out orders, your teeth would clench together to keep from smiling at his voice.

You weren't one to give away parts of yourself easily, having lost all of your family, but one day you'd suddenly found that it was much harder for you to not want to just give everything to him. Especially when you had realized that he was into you too. No matter where you were on campus, he'd make it his mission to find you, to be near you. He'd tell you his best jokes, trying to get you to crack more than just your usual small smile. He'd fight all out with you during training sessions, trying to get you to break a sweat for once, claiming that it did something to him watching you all worked up. It had become quite the strain on you, trying to treat him the same as everyone else when you were dying to just push him up against a wall and kiss him. You'd settle for even just holding his hand or brushing your shoulder up against his. But this wasn't like you- to want such immature, naive things.

You were someone who was wanted, you did not want. You were someone who was needed, you did not need. In fact, you were so hesitant to rely on anything, that if you could've figured out a way to live without oxygen you would've so as to not be indebted to the air filling your lungs.

Your skill and your independence were your swords and you wielded them with grace, distancing yourself from the crowds, but making yourself into a pretty show for them to watch. You were fine if they watched you, as long as that was all that they did. You couldn't imagine someone actually courting you, touching you, loving you.

But you did imagine Hoshina- it was more often than you'd like to admit and it irked you. You thought about just flat out ignoring him, turning down his requests to spar with you. But then he'd be different than everyone else. He'd be someone who spurred enough emotion in you to warrant unnatural behavior. And you refused to give in to emotion, especially emotion so childish and needy as something like love.

So you spent the day the way you always did, giving every officer a proper amount of time to train with you, and ending each session with a curt smile and a nod, gesturing for the next combatant to approach.

But then the alarm went off, signaling a kaiju attack. You thought you'd handle this the way you always did, no mess, no fuss, just efficient and effortless. But this was no ordinary kaiju and tonight was no ordinary night.

You had let all the lower ranking officers handle yoju duty and you had gone straight for the daikaiju. That was not abnormal behavior, you were always confident in your skills and they always served you well. But not tonight.

Tonight, you were humbled in the most brutal way possible.

Your fight had drawn you away from the rest of the squad, and now you were glad it had because you were ashamed to be in such a sorry, gruesome state. You had sustained heavy damage and for the first time in your life, you genuinely considered you might die here.

You thought of all the friends and family that you'd lost to war, kaiju, sickness. You wondered if you were ready to join them. It would be easier to let go.

"But I'm not done yet... I haven't..." You spit up blood, and shakily rise to your feet, groaning at the effort. I haven't even told him how I felt yet, damnit, you think to yourself, unable to speak the words aloud. Without meaning to, you being to cry. You don't have a free hand to wipe the tears away, as one clutches your dripping abdomen trying to stop the flow of blood, and one clings to your gun, aching as you attempt to raise it again. You fire a weak shot but your combat power is high enough that it distracts the kaiju for a moment.

And a moment is all that you need.

"Hey there, princess. You look like you could use a little saving. Don't worry, I won't tell the guys."

Right before your eyes, the beast suddenly splits into little dissected pieces and they rain down on the pavement, pelting the ground.

For the first time in years, you smile a real genuine smile as the Vice Captain holds his hand out to you. You're relieved to be alive to make it to another day, and you're shocked at how relieved you are. You don't remember when life began to feel so precious to you.

Maybe it was when you'd accidentally overheard a conversation where Hoshina was telling another officer that you'd be the one to bring hope to future generations.

Maybe it was when you'd forgotten your lunch one day and he'd sacrificed his lunch to leave it in your locker for you to find when your growling stomach had sent you hungrily ravaging through it for any snack you might've left behind.

Or maybe... maybe it was when your last living relative died and everyone whispered to each other about how cold you were for not shedding a tear and keeping your chin up when all you wanted to do was curl up and cry, but he alone told you in passing (not wanting to make a scene) that it was okay to grieve in whichever way you pleased.

And now he was holding a hand out to you. And you thought if you took it you might never let go. You might want to know where this led, what your feelings felt like when you let them roam wild, what he felt like in your arms.

Before you can decide if you truly want to take that terrifying step, his hand clasps yours and he pulls you in for a hug.

"You did good." He whispers in your ear.

You shake your head but you don't pull away from him. "I didn't. I almost died. You had to save me. I wasn't good enough."

"You're enough. You did well." He repeats, firmer this time.

You sigh against him, exhaling every pent up feeling you'd been holding on to. "Th-thank you, Vice Captain."

He pulls back a little and grins at you. "It's Soshiro, actually."

You bite your lip, trying to force down the warmth that's started to flood into your cheeks.

"You know I've never seen you like this before. It's a good look on you." He teases.

"Shut up, Soshiro."

He grins even wider at you using his first name so soon. "You get your butt kicked for the first time, you actually blush, and then you raise your voice at me? What is going on with you today?" He chuckles, nudging you playfully.

"I think... I think I might want to try something. Something different." You say finally.

He raises a curious eyebrow at you. "And what's that, princess?"

"Being honest with myself for once."

And with that, you pull him in and kiss him.

[lowkeyrobin]

hiii! hope you’re having a good day/night/whatever :D i was wondering if you could do something where the reader was fives (almost ?) s/o and then after learning about him and lila theyre upset. and then reader and diego sort of bond over the feeling and find solace in their friendship with each other. i mean this in like a thing for diego sort of way, the five thing is just a backstory. sorry if this is hard to understand english is hard

oooo okay this is cool!! ; and don't worry it's not hard to understand at all! your English is very good 🫶 ; but we are gonna pretend five wasn't trapped in his teenage body for all the time reader would've known him or wtv 💀 cause the physical and mental gap between diego and five is diabolical and idk how else to make it not weird. I usually say and enforce that I won't recognize the five/lila thing as canon but this is relevant to the story and I need diego requests lol. ; but uh yeah!! thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy!! ; also the ending part lowkey sucks I'm sorry

DIEGO HARGREEVES ; it's called moving on

summary ; after Five and Lila get trapped in the subway, they have a double affair on you and Diego. after saving the world, you both bond over it and move on (to each other)

warnings ; language, cheating, arguing / physical fighting, knives, alcohol

disclaimers ; five is in the physical body of a 30-ish year old to make this not creepy as hell on any parts. I have a distinct hatred for whatever tf happened w Lila and Five so don't expect to see anything nice about them... ; also reader is a sparrow, didn't wanna get incest-y in here...

word count ; 1.5k

masterlist

Klaus, Allison, and Luther sit on the couch, watching over the kids while you and Diego rush to the door. Five and Lila had been MIA for hours now, you were both growing worried. Luckily, it was them standing at the doorstep.

"Where've you been?" Diego asks, slightly worried. "It's been hours"

"Seven, at that" you raise an eyebrow at Five. "You've never just gone MIA for that long. Did you find anything out on how to stop all this shit? Cause we did"

Five is unable to look you in the eye. "Uh, not really. What'd you learn?"

"Well, for one, Dad's alive, so is our mother... I think?" you begin, pulling him inside. "She's not really our mom, but she's Dad's wife, or whatever. Our actual birth mother's are alive in this timeline. And your Ben died because your Reginald shot him in the head! We think fate is coming together cause my Ben and Jennifer are together and we have to stop them-"

Diego and Lila step in behind you, joining you all in the living room. Lila's family stand in the kitchen, coming together to make some Christmas dinner food for the upcoming days. You can't help but notice both Five and Lila can't look you in the eye, how they look tired and haven't spoken damn near a word.

You four stand in the middle of the living room, shoes off to Lila's family's rules, your socks digging into the carpet. Allison, Luther, and Klaus part their attention between the kids and you four.

Diego looks down at Lila's wrist, seeing a glare from the sunlight outside on something she was wearing. He quickly grabs her wrist, confused of what she could've been wearing, as she didn't like bracelets, at least not store bought ones. She wouldn't have gone on a run to get herself a bracelet, right? I mean, what?

Diego furrows his brows at her while you press a chaste kiss to Five's forehead.

"I thought you hated bracelets?" Diego mutters, grabbing the attention of the siblings who sit on the couch.

Lila looks at him with fake confusion, trying to brush it off. "No, I don't"

"Yeah, you do" Diego nods. "I got you one for Valentine's Day and you traded it in for a Dyson vacuum."

You and Five look to Diego and Lila, listening in.

Lila is silent. "I don't like store bought ones. I kept the bracelet you made for me in that mental institution"

She had him on that one.

"Who made it, then?" Diego asks firmly.

She's silent. Five looks away from Diego.

Diego looks to him, then back at Lila. He frees Lila's wrist from his grasp, staring Five down. You look between him, Diego, and Lila, connecting the dots.

"Five?" You question, eyebrows furrowed, your voice unsure.

Diego reaches for his back pocket.

Five stuffs his hands in his pockets, head held low.

"Is there something going on between you two?" Diego asks nervously, looking between Five and Lila.

"Diego-" Lila speaks

"Holy shit, wow" Diego scoffs, looking down at her.

Klaus' jaw drops, Luther and Allison beside him share shocked expressions. You look back at the three, unable to react as you're caught frozen in the moment.

"Woah"

"Holy shit"

"I didn't see that one coming"

"Holy shit, I was right" Diego looks between the two, "I knew you were cheating on me!"

You shove Five into the wall, far enough away from the TV and the kids to not effect them physically. Diego hurls a knife at him, just missing his skull by a few centimeters, a purposeful act. He merely did it to scare Five. The knife creates a hole in the wall and a loud thudding noise that catches the family's attention.

Diego turns his attention back to Lila, you looking over your shoulder to listen. "I knew you were cheating on me at that book club"

Lila sighs. "I wasn't cheating on you... not when you thought I was"

You turn back to Five, lips slightly parted, your expression soft yet heavy. He isn't able to speak a word to you. He steps away from the stabbed wall, walking toward you. He reaches for you and you push him away.

"Y/n-"

"No!" you shudder, then speak firmly. "Get away." you back away toward Diego, unable to look at him.

"Maybe we should go-" Luther speaks, seeing how the three were witnessing an awful thing right now.

"No, we're not going anywhere" Allison replies, an arm over him to prevent him from going anywhere.

Diego steps forward, looking at Five in the eye. "Five, did you s-k-r-e-w my wife?" he spells out 'screw' since a bunch of kids under thirteen sit no more than six feet away.

"Screw is spelled s-c-r-e-w" Grace chimes in with a smile, unaware of the situation because of her small little mind.

Klaus snorts, failing at holding back laughter. Allison bites her tongue while Luther deeply sighs, keeping his laughter at bay.

Five bites his lip before slowly nodding.

"What the fuck?!" you exclaim, slinging a quick punch to his face, causing his nose to bleed.

He groans, holding a hand to his nose. He doesn't rebute, knowing he deserved that and much more.

"Are you kidding me?" you question, looking between Five and Lila. "What the actual shit is wrong with you two?!"

Lila's family peers through the kitchen door, halfway understanding what you all were saying as they weren't perfectly fluent with English. You wished you could speak Punjabi to tell them how their daughter cheated and how your boyfriend was a fucking homewrecker.

"Y/n, please," Lila speaks, trying to calm you, holding a hand out to you.

You slap her hand away, and back up toward the siblings on the couch. Klaus holds a hand over his mouth, Luther watches in silence, Allison bites her tongue.

"You're fucking unbelievable."

You cut contact with Five, Diego cut most contact with Lila and kept the kids 70% of the time. Lila paid child support, the extent of their conversations other than the kids.

It'd been a few years since your brother had to be killed. You'd been struggling a lot. In between Ben's death and the whole Five and Lila thing, you weren't okay, you didn't think you ever would be.

Most the family didn't talk to either one after the whole incident. They'd luckily sided with you and Diego. Allison still talked to Lila, but she'd created herself a whole new life, so the two didn't talk that much.

Life moves on, shit happens.

You lived near Diego, the two of you often going out with the kids to still create some sort of happy family dynamic for them. From lunch to movies, to road trips and rollercoasters, you'd do anything for those kids. You felt so bad knowing there was no way to repair Diego and Lila's relationship, wishing the kids got to have more time as a proper family.

Diego sat with you on the couch, no kids in trail this time. They were with Lila this weekend. Fruity concoctions rest in your hands, the television in front of you playing some dumbass action movie.

"People clearly don't like three children on the man they're going on a date with," Diego chuckles. "My kids come first, sorry."

You smile. "At least you're humbled and know what you're living for, what's important."

He raises an eyebrow, confused about what you're implying.

You see that look and clarify. "I dunno what I'm living for anymore. My brother's dead. My ex cheated on me and all I feel is fucking angry day in and day out. I don't know anymore"

Diego's face grows soft. "Moving on isn't easy."

You nod. "It's harder to do it alone"

He's silent for a moment before speaking up. "Maybe we don't have to do it alone?"

You raise an eyebrow. "What're you implying, Di?"

He shrugs, looking into your eyes. "Whatever you want to think I'm implying"

"...but the kids, that's gonna be so confusing-"

"You love the kids. I know you do. Otherwise, you wouldn't have been on all these adventures with us, you wouldn't have asked me yourself to make plans and come over. I know you feel the way I do."

You're both quiet, thinking over your own and the other's words.

"Maybe" you shrug.

"Maybe? I'm allowed to get my hopes up?"

"Calm down, pal" you chuckle. "Not so soon, let's like... ask the kids. I'd feel bad not asking how they felt. They're my priority, they come before us"

Diego nods. "Glad you feel that way. We should get married ASAP." he chuckles, nudging you with his shoulder.

You smile, taking a sip of your beverage. "Feels wrong to even think about this, y'know?"

"It's called moving on. It's normal, I promise"

[sahisan]

silence.

tomioka giyuu x gn!reader.

⭒ summary: everyone knows that giyuu isn't much of a talker, so this depicts the silent moments with him that you both have come enjoy.

⭑ cw: sfw. mentions of giyuu's past (final selection w sabito). a bit of angst. reader is bad at comforting. giyuu loves you sm. like loves.

⭒ wc: 2.8k.

⭑ a/n: this took me too long wth, almost a month i fear lol. this was written during my demon slayer hyperfixation comeback (it's gone now) so uh. also acheron fic coming soon (i hope soon)! pls like and reblog !!

it wasn't exactly silence after giyuu finished speaking. there were sounds of birds chirping, wind occasionally blowing, resulting in sounds of swaying leaves on the trees being more audible. some even fell because of the invisible force of the air, ending up meeting the gravel ground near the engawa.

having told a good share of his past to you—precisely about sabito and the final selection, which were the main reason he wasn't exactly thrilled about taking part in the hashira training—giyuu decided to stop himself from telling you any more, choosing to leave other topics for later.

but will you still have this 'later' now that he's shared even a small bit of himself?

to you, the silence was awkward. not having the faintest idea of what to say in reply to that wasn't exactly what you would want to experience, yet here you were. it felt useless even trying to think of something, to try and make something up in your mind, even taking a bit more time than you usually do when thinking of a response, bur nothing could've prepared you to thinking of what to reply to this.

it made your stomach churn with how you realised you couldn't seem to know what to do, what to say, how to comfort him; the closest to you person finally started to open uo, little by little, bit by bit and you instead feel like an immobile log, only being able to sit there and listen, not being able to muster up a word of comfort.

and you know, you know that it's because you've never heard the said words of colsolation in your life; thus, you didn't know how to comfort giyuu.

another gust of wind blew through the air, nearly ruffling your and his hair, and for a moment you think of giyuu with his hair no longer in a low ponytail, but instead it being messy and disarranged and you think of running your fingers through it. you hope you'll have such opportunity, even if only once.

another fallen onto your lap leaf helped you out of your thoughts; it would be even more awkward if you hadn't managed to say something at all, daydreaming and continuing on staying silent. you take the leaf between your fingers before it manages to fly away and take a look at it; elm.

"i'm... sorry," you finally spoke, voice quiet as to not disturb anything around. you felt so meek just hearing your own voice. "i don't really know what to say. but i'm sorry for what happened with sabito."

you took a pause; you were never one to have a good way with words, and it made everything even worse in this situation.

"just know that... i'm here for you whenever you want to talk to me about anything. i'll listen."

giyuu's head was in the same position as yours—lowered to look down at his lap. he couldn't say the atmosphere was tense, no, not at all. he knew this was a lot to digest in such a small period of time, no matter how long you've been silent, and he could see your hesitation in choosing the right words; you surely didn't voice your inability to properly comfort him, but didn't blame you for your lack in knowledge about it. he could guess why.

"it's alright," he said just as quietly, silently exhaling a small breath. it felt as if it was easier to breathe now that he had shared this bit of his past to you. "it was about time i told you anyways. i'm already glad you listened. don't bother with words."

you still felt that just listening wasn't enough.

"have you eaten yet?" giyuu broke another silence after a few more minutes of listening to the wind's unregulated breathing, wishing to change the topic to not overexert you mentally any further—what he's told you was enough and it wasn't like he wanted you to dwell on that story. he simply wanted you to know.

"forgot to."

giyuu knew quite well as of now that you tended to, much to his dismay, forget to have some of the meals throughout the day, and it didn't make it better when you could even skip lunch because of training or meetings or anything at all. once, he even told you that he was going to forbid you to enter the training grounds unless you've had at least two meals throughout the day. it's safe to say he physically couldn't do so, so for that period of time you and your exercises were safe.

giyuu didn't need to hear more from you. standing up from his sitting position on the engawa, he then offered you a hand to help you up. and with the gesture, you both knew that there was no need for more words.

the silence in the small soba restaurant never bothered you; it's a place where people came to eat, not to talk, after all. you two were the only people inside for now, but the sounds of utensils clanking and the smell of more food being cooked in the kitchen were very much present, and still, besides that, it was silent.

and still, your mind never seemed to get over how giyuu just brushed your inability to utter something reassuring off. maybe he didn't even want and didn't need the comfort you failed to provide; maybe he expected something like that from you, judging from your earlier reaction to his words just as he'd started talking. yes, he must've known you were bad at feelings, especially other people's, but was he used to it? he undeniably looked like he was, and that was just sad.

chopsticks carefully picking up the soba and guiding them into your mouth, noticing giyuu doing the same near you, your mind picked up the thought that, probably, saying something regarding what he told you about would be inappropriate, but you couldn't shake off the feeling of needing to get something out; something that could just show him that you understand him that much, at least.

"sabito would most definitely be out to get you for the mindset you have now."

out of the corner of your eye you notice that giyuu's hand, previously holding his chopsticks with a bit of noodles picked up, stops. it's not at all an abrupt stop, more like when coming to a thought one's mind has been chasing for a while already. you stop, too, having finished chewing.

and when the silence between you two starts feeling a little too long and a little too tense, and you start thinking that you may have said a very wrong and inappropriate thing, giyuu speaks up in a such relaxed and unimpressed manner that you involuntarily start questioning your choice of words. you'd expected him to get mad or upset, but not—

"you for yours, too."

oh.

"...touchè."

well.

the nights are—mostly—always silent.

the nights spent with giyuu are silent in their own, unmistakable way.

you two seem to create another form of serenity together—everything becomes as still as possible, wind appearing barely once for a few moments to ruffle the trees' leaves and then disappear without a trace.

your head is gently laid on giyuu's lap and gaze fixed on the night sky above with the stars filling the inky abyss, each sparkling more than the previous, as if trying to catch your attention, your eyes move from one to another, wanting to get a look at them all, wanting to engrave the look of them in your mind and keep it here; but there was just so much — you aren't sure if there even exists a number as big as the number of stars up there.

("do you think we get a star out there after death?"

"...maybe."

"would you try to look for mine when i die?"

"..."

"...sorry."

"...i would.")

with giyuu still looking somewhere in front of him—you can't quite decipher where, maybe he's just spaced out—your hand somewhere a bit lower your chest and his hand laying loosely over yours, you close your eyes and slowly inhale the night air; it smells of pine and momentarily happiness.

a few moments later giyuu's head tangibly shifts, and, having little self-restraint when it comes to curiosity, you open your eyes again—maybe he'd be looking at something different now?

and as your eyelids open, you find him to be staring at no one other than you.

eyes usually cold as a snowstorm and endless as the abyss above you both have now descended to endearment and devotion as they look into yours. they twitch slightly lower and to the side, watching your lips for a few seconds, before coming back upwards to your eyes.

he's so enchanting—close to being as enchanting as the stars he's now blocking your view of. maybe he even looks like one in your mind, or maybe it's just his endless eyes, the colors of which blend into the matching endless night sky. you notice yourself not minding the blocked view if the one doing it is giyuu.

with the main sight now being his eyes instead of the gleaming celestial bodies—you can't exactly complain—you feel like staring into them an eternity more, and then another and another until you've memorized each and every pattern in them. and you're sure that if eyes could talk, both your and his would scream affection.

"you're blocking the view," you say, having no more stars to see right in front of you, them being replaced with giyuu's face.

"you seem to be enjoying it all the same," giyuu declares, unimpressed, despite his eyes narrowing the slightest bit in amusement. you're pretty sure his mouth's corners nearly curve upwards. you would've loved to witness him smile, especially at the moment.

you hum quietly, eyes wandering over his face—how can one attract so much? and it's not just about his beauty; he's everything you've ever needed and didn't know you ever needed in your life. "i never said i wasn't enjoying it."

giyuu, too, can't seem to be able to tear his eyes away from you—starting from your eyes as well, they descend lower to your lips (he's a very patient man), neck—and he regrets both of you being too shy and humble to try and leave hickeys on each other, he would enjoy that sight very much—then your uniform which just suits you so much, and, in the end, your hand, one of which is held by his—when did he go from it simply lying on top of yours to holding it?—and he involuntarily laces your fingers together slowly, eyes following each and every movement. your hands are almost just as his—arms a bit scarred underneath the clothes, skin on the palms calloused from holding your katanas, along with healed nicks and occasional cuts.

humming as well in acknowledgement of your words, his gaze follows the trail back to your face and settle back on your eyes. he has to remind himself to not look into them too long, fearing he'd get too lost in their infinite beauty.

"we could stay like this forever," giyuu suddenly speaks up, and with the quietness of the words said they don't seem to disturb the silence at all.

"we could."

you get what he's trying to say. there was never enough time for both of you since the moment you've joined the demon slayers, and then the hashiras, signing yourself a death warrant when doing so; it's pointless to deny the truth and the inevitable, and you both long learned to embrace it.

but all the sadness and inevitableness can be forgot at times like these, right? even just for the night or for a few hours before the two of you go back to your routine duties.

"but what would you do then?" you continue, being tempted into asking the question with the smallest teasing lilt in your voice, as if prompting him to speak about his feelings about you.

feelings are hard, especially for someone like him—especially for someone with the past and job he has—but slowly, bit-by-bit, step-by-step, you try to get him to understand them, even if you're lost in your own and sometimes can't find a way out of your own feelings. you guess it comes with the job.

guyuu stops to think for, maybe, a bit more than a minute or two, and lets the silence embrace both of you again. again, it's never tense with him (you don't really want to remember the time he told you about sabito, though it still lingers in the back of your mind and comes up in the most unpleasant times), as you two gratefully grab onto the every little bit of serenity and peace you have.

while he thinks, your gaze, once again, roams over his face, with the twinkling stars now serving as a simple background for what—who—you're seeing, being a pleasant compliment to the sight in front of you. moonlight obligingly illuminates a great half of his face, letting you see most details on it, and who would you be if you missed on this opportunity?

nearly just as he's about to start talking, his lips opening and, dear gods above, he can sense your eyes shifting to his moving lips. it's always with you that he feels like a teenager—not really lovey-dovey, but it's a fact that he lets himself be more open to feelings with you.

"i would..." giyuu starts, taking a small break before continuing—to gather his thoughts, knowing you're watching him as intently as you can, and it's not in the least bit uncomfortable as it would be if it wasn't you.

"i would look at you," he says. "for the rest of eternity. i wouldn't want to do anything else besides it."

as he finishes speaking, you slowly but surely feel the tips of your ears becoming a shade of red; thankfully, it's not your face. yet.

"is that so?" you manage to whisper out, taking slow and barely audible breaths to try and calm your fast beating heart. he probably can hear it with how your back lays on his lap, but that doesn't really matter. "wouldn't you get bored?"

"never."

you're sure your face gets a small tint of red.

you, involuntarily, hold your breath after his words, eyes widening a tad bit, and it's only a few seconds later that you quietly exhale the air you didn't know you have been holding in.

the words he says are so simple—but he does have a way with them, and that's what makes you love him more and more with each syllable leaving his lips.

there's moonlight illuminating his—and your—face, and you seem to notice it just now. it shines onto a great half of his face, letting you see even more details on his skin, and if it was illegal to stare for so long, you'd be long behind bars, living your worst ever imaginable life without having something as precious and pretty as giyuu to look at.

his eyes shift. you get the hint just as his gaze moves onto your lips—you've been looking at them so attentively, it'd be a shame if you didn't notice that.

having taken a, supposedly, not so fitting of a position to kiss, you have to sit up using your hands and place them on the grass beneath you to hold yourself up, and your face moves just enough for him to understand. you don't make any rash movements; you're careful but your intentions are evident.

giyuu's face shifts closer, too. it moves forward until he feels like both your and his lips are soon to meet together. one look into each other's eyes is all it takes for his appearance to soften and lean towards you.

your lips touch in a kiss and you feel like you could die right now and there because of how soft it feels, coming from him, usually so sharp and harsh; it feels like your lips are melting together but you don't have it in you to mind—it's been far too long since you two have had any time to yourselves and your small affections and you don't know when you'll have another night like this.

his eyes settle closed the same time as yours do, and as much as you like looking at him, it just helps the atmosphere around you even more. giyuu's lips slowly, gently move against yours and you just happen to think of how tender they are, and that warms your chest more than anything.

it's silent and wordless with giyuu, and you just happen to love it.

[moodymisty]

I would like to throw Sanguinius into the “wants to hunt down his beloved to satiate his latent predatory instincts” arena (especially since he doesn’t indulge them nearly as often as Leman & Lion do, he needs to cut loose 🥴)

But ALSO… Horus wants to be so sugar daddy coded. He wants to actually have kids so not like your typical sugar daddy but he wants to provide for his beloved he wants to drown you in luxury and gifts. It gets him harder than tungsten carbide when he sees you looking dolled up to accompany him somewhere and he knows he bought every single thing you’re wearing (probably down to the underwear cuz we been knew he nasty like that lol). He didn’t just want to raise kids he wanted to occupy that perfect paternal figure archetype as a provider (because he has daddy issues that he “copes” with by trying to one-up Emps XD) and part of the perfect image of his future would probably include a spouse he would spoil and treasure like nobody’s business. This man lives for the constant adoration he gets so of course he wants to hear it from you. The thank yous and bashful looks as he hands you ANOTHER priceless piece of jewelry, mewling and moaning as he’s balls deep in you that you don’t NEED another fur shawl and how people will gossip. Let them talk, let every ear on Terra know the warmaster can and will provide only the finest of the fine things in this whole galaxy for you. Cuz that gets him off too XD

ALKJDFLJSDFLJSKDFOW4ITREHDFNB AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

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"Oh thank you! Warmaster Horus gifted it to me."

You've found yourself saying those words a lot lately, tumbling out of your mouth even before you realize you're saying them.

The dress you wore with sleeves billowing over your wrists, with a train that dusts across the floor is a gift from him, along with the jewelry you wore; The heels you have on are from Horus, custom made from the hide of an animal sourced from a recently annexed planet.

The lingerie you wear under your dress is from him as well- a bra, garter belt, panties and stockings all matching and delicate with lace and silk.

Horus had loved that gift of his in particular, shown in how gentle he was in assisting you while putting it on. And taking it off, now a moments later.

"It sounds like the primarch has quite the warchest, if he's lavishing you with so many gifts." You smile nervously, trying to laugh it off.

You know that despite the relatively simple nature of the comment, that it's implications are less so. There has been gossip going around, talking about Lupercal's spoiled little princess, his brat, and he's been on a manhunt to find the sources of all this talk.

He hasn't told you what he's going to do when he finds out who is nattering insults, which worries you more than a little.

"I keep telling him to stop, that he has thousands of men to feed, but he doesn't really listen."

They smile at you while you try and shrug off their comment, polite and insincere, but amicable enough. At least your response got them away from Horus' gifts.

It's a bit difficult to fend of prying questions about the Warmaster when he isn't around, as many lords and ladies are eager to know anything any everything that could give them a head up. They are all quite interested in the primarchs and their legions goings on, but Horus in particular is of much interest.

Only when you return to Horus' private Terran chambers can you breath, feeling the ache in your feet after so long in heels.

You're taking pins out of your hair when Horus returns, watching you put the pins in a little container before turning to him. He's in his casual war, a massive pelt draped over his shoulder ending right where the start of his baggy brown trousers begin.

"I apologize for missing you, I wish I could've gone but the Mournival had some urgent questions they needed answered." He glances over you, see how you've begun to get ready to settle down. "I hope it went well in my absence, at least." You nod.

"It did, don't worry."

He lets out a soft 'good' in response, but he's already getting down on his knee and pulling something from his trousers.

"I do have something for you. I was going to give it to you before we left, but I suppose I can gift it to you now as an apology for leaving you alone."

You watch as he opens a small box for you, and the shine instantly catches you attention.

They're earrings; Small, delicate and feature a beautiful teal gem as the centerpiece. Horus chuckles.

"You should put them on. I would help but, my hands are not suited for such tiny details."

You can't resist the urge to smile back as you take your current pair out, swapping them for Horus' new ones. He watches with interest the entire time, even as you glance in the large vanity mirror to see them.

"They're perfect Horus, thank you."

You lean forward to wrap your arms around his neck and give him a kiss to the cheek, your lipstick leaving a mark on his tanned skin.

"You always get me so much though, are you sure it's ok?" Horus laughs, a deep chesty laugh as he puts a hand on the small of your back and pulls you closer.

"Ok? Whatever do you mean?" You purse your lips.

"I just don't want you lavish me in all these things when you might be able to use that income for more important things." Horus lets out a softer, quieter laugh, kissing your forehead.

"My love, don't you worry about those things. I have them all handled." His other hand comes up to rest on your jawline, cradling it in his massive palm.

"I only wish to make sure you don't want for a single, solitary thing. If you want something, it is yours. I will make sure of it."

You smile at him, gentle and sweet. You love Horus so much, the feeling is palpable. You wish he wouldn't give you so much however, the gossip is becoming unmanageable. Each time you mention it however

Horus always shrugs it off, saying that they can gossip all they want- It only shows off just how well he takes care of you.

"Do you mind helping me with the buttons on the back of my dress? The handmaid helped me earlier but I think they're off cleaning."

Horus nods and gestures for you to turn around, unfastening the buttons at the nape of your neck. While they're small they aren't as small as the earrings, so he's able to manage the delicate task somewhat easily.

Farther down the trail of buttons eventually the shoulders slide off of you, and the dress pools at your feet.

"You wore it again today,"

Horus says while he looks over your back, and there's an unmistakable look in his eyes at the sight of his gifted lingerie. You turn around, unable to help the way you cross your arms across your stomach.

"It matched the dress, so I thought i would."

His hand drifts over your right thigh, up over the lace top of your stocking, before drifting up and over your hip. He leans inward to press his lips to your collarbone, before lowering to your sternum.

"I should get you another."

You stutter and try to decline his suddenly exclamation as his hands drift upwards, threatening to push your bra up over your breasts.

"Horus, I don't need another, please-"

He hums, and you can feel the vibration go through your chest.

"If you're going to wear it under your dresses then you need multiple, of course."

He's not going to budge on this, and his distractions of kissing your skin are working masterfully. A whimper leaves your throat as one of his hands slides to gently cradle your bottom, and his lips push up your skin to nip at the sensitive skin just below your ear.

"Then... Could you do it in silver? ...I miss the silver of your Luna Wolves regalia."

Horus chuckles, but unlike the one earlier that was so sweet, this one has far more rumble, deeper in his throat.

"Consider it done, my love."

[thegnomelord]

CH 1: With a Spark It Starts Just Like It Ended

CW: NSFW Blood, gore, cannon typical violence, M reader but can be read as GN, Mage reader, Monster 141 AU, reader is described as having thick fucked up arms.

AO3 3.7k words, more of an intro to what's to come lol.

Old man Abdul had lived a good life. A harsh one. But a good one.

He was amongst the first to grab a gun and raise the fight against the Russians, risking life and limb for the freedom of Urzikstan even as members of his pack bled and died to artillery fire and noxious gas. And he alone had survived to see his country set free of tyranny and chose to stay in the military long after his hair had greyed.

And how was he rewarded for his service?

With a 'promotion' to guard the basement of a conference hall. They even called it the 'Peace House' as if that made his position grander, though in his humble opinion the only peaceful thing happening within the halls above was the lack of physical violence.

"Hey, did you fall asleep on me old man?" Taim, a bright eyed and gap-toothed human private so young he could've been one of his grandsons, asks as he throws down five playing cards on the floor between them. Royal flush, again.

Old man Abdul's eyes are soft with a glare and he throws down his own cards, already knowing he'd lost. "Go fish." He huffs, leaning back into the chair they'd been able to squirrel away.

It was embarrassing to think that boredom could torture him more than the Russians did, but they were only a few hours into their shift and he was already thinking of biting a bullet. Chances were they'd stay down here long after the diplomats up top finished bickering about who knows what...

"Hey," Taim perks up, and from the few weeks he's known him, Abdul knows the glint in his brown eyes heralds something stupid. "How about whoever loses this round takes a shot from your leg?"

He is proven correct.

"How about I throw you into a minefield so we can match?" Old man Abdul responds, his tail wagging from side to side. His tail looks more at home on a rat than any werewolf, the fur there an accidental casualty of a Russian fire mage's spell that had taken his leg off. The prosthetic leg only fitting on his human body isn't nearly as insulting as the warding totem they'd given him to protect against lethal magic after his leg had gone flying.

Taim gulps and holds his hands up. "There's no need for that sir." He quickly adds, clearing his throat and reaching to the floor to pick up their cards and shuffle them.

Taim's warding totem slips out from beneath his jacket, but it's different from old man Abdul's. Not in appearance, with the same materials every mage will make theirs differently, but in feel. It feels different...wrong.

Eyes narrowing he reaches out and holds the piece of faintly glowing rock between his claws. Heat radiates into his fingers, the magic inside pulsing in a steady even thrum like a machine instead of beating like a heartbeat; like something not quite alive.

Abdul had been in combat long enough to know how good a warding totem is with how his body reacts to it.

The shit one he'd been given barely gets the remaining fur on his tail to bristle.

Taim's makes his skin want to melt off.

"Where did you get this?" Abdul asks, tail curling up as he lets go of the totem with disgust clear on his face. "That rock could probably protect you from L3 mage without cracking, maybe even L4." Call him paranoid, but a private getting a totem to protect him from mages rarer than unicorns doesn't make any sense.

"Oh, that-" The young man clears his throat, the totem laying flat against his chest like an insult to life. "Came from up top a few days ago, guess all those terror attacks spooked command and they want to keep us normal people safe." He realizes his words and quickly adds. "-not that I'm calling you not normal or anything sir, it's just that-"

"-You're squishier than me, yes, I know." Old man Abdul rolls his eyes, leaning back into his chair with a huff.

Taim gives a nervous little giggle, scratching at his curly dark hair. "No offence sir. It's just...you know."

"We all look out for our kinfolk first." Old man Abdul sighs, going to wave him off.

His pointy ear twitches and immediately he's jumping to his feet when his sensitive hearing picks up the sound of the elevator mechanism running. No one is supposed to come down at this time, and Abdul already has his rifle raised to point at the elevator doors by the time Taim is able to get to his own feet. The old werewolf doesn't even need to say anything for the young man to stand on opposite side of him, they work together well, both guns aimed at the person revealed by the opening elevator doors.

It's just the janitor.

Taim lets out a small breath and lowers his gun, relaxing as the janitor gives them a small greeting both of them have to strain their ears to hear as a face mask muffles their words.

"That was a bit embarrassing." Taim chuckles weakly, nodding his own greeting and taking a step back so the janitor can push the heavy cart past them. Abdul notes the janitor's hands are thick and large, the veins poking out beneath latex gloves. Murky water sloshes inside the mop bucket, the trash bag filled to the brim and budging.

It's just a janitor.

But like an annoying tick on his ass, something doesn't let old man Abdul relax.

There's a buzz in the back of his mind like the one he'd get when he was being watched, and when he catches sight of the janitor's eyes beneath the wide-brimmed cap that buzzing stops; Instead replaced with a flash sense of wrongness in his bones and the feeling of tar inside his heart and an indescribable scent — like stale beer and burnt grass and deep dark rot — it has his fingers moving to the trigger before the sight of magic melting through latex can make the short trip from his eyes to his brain—

Glowing lines spring into thin air to form magic circles before their eyes.

The warding totems shatter.

'Pop' goes a head.

Both bodies drop to the ground.

"Could have told me there was a dog." Your words scrape against your throat like shards of glass from the disuse, melted latex stretching into long strands as you take off the cleaner gloves and throw them away, your fingers steaming and glowing hot with mana before you hide them away in tactical gloves.

"I-" Taim tries to say but his voice fails him, eyes and mind still blinded by the harsh glare of magical fire.

"Save it." You cut him off, pulling open the lip of the trash bag to dig out your facemask helmet. It's both a full face helmet and a gasmask, scratched up from years of use but still able to protect your head while keeping you anonymous. A shame it can't filter out the stench of burnt flesh, but you've gotten used to it.

Taim's vision clears and the moment his eyes settle on the charred remains of Abdul's head— the hollowed out skull where concentrated flame had burned a hole straight through everything in it's path, the flesh and bone charred black —he's scrambling away as fast as his feet can push him, the shattered remains of your warding totem crumbling beneath his fingers. Bile rises in his throat and he coughs when he breaths in, but his stomach is thankfully empty so he ends up dry heaving.

"On your feet." Your words are hard to understand under your gasmask, but you don't need to raise your voice. The tone you use has him scrambling to his feet in seconds.

"I- I- yes sir!" Taim manages to stutter out, doesn't even have to fake his fear as he stands at attention. He watches you reach into the dirty water to pull out a Handheld Personal Computer and shake off the residual droplets to ensure it still works before putting it in your pocket.

"When is the next check in?" You ask, reaching further into the trash bag to grasp the handhold on the heavy gas canister hidden beneath office trash. You pull it out without much effort, setting it carefully on the ground so you can recheck that the release valve is intact.

"20 minutes sir." Taim responds and he doesn't need to know Arabic to know what's inside the canister when a grinning skull is printed on the metal.

You let out a low sound, and Taim tries not to peer too closely at you. Sometimes he wonders what face a person who burns people alive without a single second of hesitation could have, but then you look at him and he sees that unnatural glow of mana in your eyes behind the darkened lenses of the helmet and he's glad he's met with the emotionless visage of the mask rather than the one beneath it.

"You have 10 to get out before Hell opens up." You say, standing back up and picking up the canister without complaint. "Use the emergency tunnels, don't spook the VIPs."

Taim is human, not sensitive to magic like the monsters are, but even he can feel the latent mana in your veins that strengthens your body. Like maggots at the back of his skull. It makes a second round of bile rise to his throat. "Yes sir."

You pay close attention to him until he disappears down the corridor before going the opposite way. Alone, it is easier to calm the lingering heat in your veins until the eternal engine of mana in your chest fizzles down to embers like a sleeping beast. Can't have your mana mess with sensitive electronics, even if that does leave you exposed on the cams (as if there's anyone alive to watch them)

"Ifrit, status?" The small radio in your ear crackles.

"Moving to the target, encountered and neutralized a wolf." You answer, taking sharp turns as you follow a path you'd memorized beforehand. "No other monsters to report."

You were lucky to run into one down in the bowels of the conference hall instead of at the front gate. Otherwise your espionage mission would have turned into a frontal assault. Not that Khaled would have minded, you were getting paid to send a loud statement after all.

"Good." You don't need to see his face to know he's smirking, your employer wasn't a huge fan of subhumans. "Continue to the objective."

You respond in affirmative, coming to a heavy metal door, locked with a passcode and even a palm scanner; It's all a valiant effort to keep sensitive data safe, but it may as well be cardboard to you. You summon another circle, this time right on the door, biting your tongue. You're not good with 'subtle' but you haven't forgotten what Taurus or Sierra had taught you; first pushing a bit of loose ash magic between the large atoms making up the metal to disrupt the bonds, then a single pulse of fire ignites the volatile ash and has the entire bottom half crumbling into red hot shards.

Molten slag drips down to the floor when you duck down under the remaining half of the door to find yourself in the server room. Steam rises when the cold air meets your hot skin, but you hardly notice as you first head to the ventilation system at the back of the room. It's dark, but you don't bother turning on the lights, the subtle mana in your eyes enough to give you primitive night vision.

"Ifrit to Alpha-Actual, connecting the payload right now." You say, setting the canister down. The ventilation collects the air from the server room to push it through the entire building and then outside, so all you have to do is melt a hole through the exit pipe until it's big enough for the hose on the canister to fit snugly inside.

"And the files?" Khaled's voice sounds in your ear once you're finished.

"Going now." Standing back up you head to the central server. Taking out the HPC you hook it up to the mainframe, watching the screen until it shows 'connection secure'. "I'm connected."

"Copy that." Your eyes scan the cracked screen (which you broke less than a week after getting it), seeing the file transfer start before Khaled even finishes speaking and trying to read and memorize the names of dozens the files but they change too quickly. "File transfer ETA 5 minutes. Sit tight."

Giving confirmation you keep an eye on the doorway. Though you are positioned in such a way that you'd see the shadow of someone coming in before they see you, years of being behind enemy lines and acting as a friendly to your foes has taught you to be careful. Especially when you can't use more than a smidgeon of mana without frying the entire server system.

You are lucky that no-one comes, the remaining guards too busy guarding the diplomats above you to check what's beneath their noses. While waiting you access the public stream to watch the peace talks, setting the sound to the lowest possible setting so you can keep an eye on the diplomats in case you need a change of plan.

"Got the files, you're clear to finish." You're moving before Khaled can finish speaking, leaving the HPC to hang by the cord from the server. "Oh, and remember: Loud."

"You get what you pay for sir." Kneeling down next to the gas canister you check to ensure your gas mask is firmly on and breathing in deeply; It restricts your breathing and makes muscles work harder, but your body is so used to it that it feels like coming back home.

"Letting the gas out now." Even with the gas mask you still hold your breath when you open the valve, the gas hissing as it escapes the canister, the fan right next to you helping push it through the system. You know there's not enough gas to reach the diplomats on the top floor, it's part of the plan, so when the gas pitters out you cast another circle inside the pipe.

The servers around you flicker meekly and crackle with electricity when you use your mana fully; Something intense and suffocating burns behind your sternum for just a second before liquid mana is rushing down your veins into your hands and coming out through the magic circle as copious amounts of ash.

The rotating fan right next to you spews some of your ash right back at you, flooding the server room in magic that has long since accepted your body enough not to hurt you. But even your seasoned stomach feels tight when you breathe in the mixture of ash and toxic gas, the chemicals turning your magic a nasty shade of green, and you make a mental note to change the filter when you're done with the op otherwise the toxified sediment collecting in there will poison you for months.

You can hear the diplomats begin to cough over the livestream in the HPC, but it all feels so distant when you shift and feel cold dog tags press against your burning chest. They're light like a noose around your neck, yet the absence of weight mocks you in a way their owners no longer can.

There's a familiar sting in your bones when your mana reservoir begins dwindling, but it's easy to push through it until the engine in your chest goes into overdrive from the stress the magic puts on your body. You only stop when the burning mana in your veins starts burning small holes in the sleeves of the janitor jacket, revealing bits of your mage marked skin.

Stopping the flow of ash your hands find themselves in your pocket, taking out a lighter. It's one of those old zippo lighters, the exterior is rusted from years of action and numerous initials are scratched into the metal, but somehow it still functions; It's the strange thing about it— the more you use it, the longer it lasts. Stop, and it dies.

"It's a bit like you, firebug."

Absentmindedly you trace the scratched initials in the metal, trying to ignore the hollowness in your chest when the screams beyond the smokescreen of ash start sounding familiar.

"Going dark." You say to them, flicking it open.

One spark is all it takes.

. . .

With Makarov having gone underground like a wanker after his escape from the gulag, Price and Laswell had been stuck with their heads in mountains of paperwork searching for the bastard. Price had known he'd be in for a headache the moment he agreed to let the boys watch a live football game between England and Scotland, but he reasoned they'd all been working hard enough to earn even a small break.

At the very least it gave them all a moment of reprieve from the stress of a possible world war.

It didn't stop Soap from being a bloody muppet.

"Oh fockin' 'ell!" Soap roars and jumps to his feet, growling at the teli where a ref held a red card above her head. "That should've been a yellow! Fock, one more eye and the ref's a right cyclops." He waves obscenities at the teli as if the ref can see them, his tail hitting Gaz every time it wagged.

"Soap!" Gaz groans and stretches one black wing to smack the werewolf over the head with his long flight feathers to stop him blocking the screen.

Though Gaz's wings are hollow, the smack still hurts. "Ow, what's that for?" Soap groans, rubbing the back of his head.

"At least take your defeat with a wee bit of dignity." Gaz smirks, folding his wings.

"Bold assumption he has any." Ghost mutters next to Price, making him chuckle.

“Oh ho! I’ll get me dignity when the bloody ref gets off 'er knees an’ stops blowing the entire game.” Soap turns to playfully snap his teeth at Gaz. "And what's tha-"

The football match cuts out, replaced with a news segment.

"-Oh, what the fock?" Soap grows quiet when the newscaster begins speaking.

"We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you breaking news. As we speak, the conference hall in Al Mazra, where diplomats from over 40 countries had come to discuss peace and trade agreements with the newly reinstated Urzikstan government, burns in the flames of another terrorist attack."

The footage shifts to a drone filming a bird's eye view shot of violent flames spewing from every hole and window to engulf the entire three story building in consuming fire, heavy plumes of smoke rising into the sky like a maw of a hungering beast to spew a storm of ash and cinders down to the ground. The clouds of ash have a sick green undertone to them.

"Shit." Gaz sucks in a breath.

"Mokarov's done hiding." Ghost notes, leaning in to look closely at the screen with narrowed eyes.

"How the fock did we miss this?" Soap asks the question in their minds, turning to look at Price. "This popped up like bloody whack-a-mole."

At that same time Price's phone rings. The dragon quickly fishes it out of his pocket, seeing Laswell's name as the caller ID before he picks it up while the reporter drawls on.

"Price, are you-"

"Yeah, I'm watching the teli." He cuts her off, knowing what she's going to say. Distantly he can hear the same news report sounding on her end.

"Authorities warn citizens to vacate the immediate area as toxic gas has been detected in the air. Military forces are already enroute, but the prospects for the diplomats survival are nonexistent."

Price's draconic eyes focus on the screen when the footage shifts to that inside the conference hall. Two diplomats argue about something Price can't begin to try and untangle, his focus on one man near the back who begins coughing. More follow suit, and even over the screen Price can tell the signs of toxic gas inhalation by the way more diplomats begin wheezing and coughing wetly.

"This isn't the Russians." Kate says after Price has put her on speaker.

"How come? Looks like some terrorist shite Makarov would pull." Johnny says, his tail curled up and the tip wagging occasionally as he pays attention to the screen.

Seconds later plumes of blackish-green smog erupt from the vents above the diplomats, spewing out with such force it knocks the the camera and the man behind it down to the ground. Ash Magic, Price realizes when he sees smoldering cinders drift almost peacefully in the all consuming fog. Seconds later something causes a spark and the volatile ash magic explodes.

"Ash mage." Ghost grunts, "Just great."

"Makarov doesn't use mages." Price says, scratching his beard.

"No, but Al-Asad does." Kate's voice drifts through the silent room as they watch several APC's arrive on the scene, armored soldiers exiting. But without any monsters who can stomach the heat like Price and with the fog of ash so thick it could be cut with a knife, the best they can do is secure the perimeter. "The CIA intercepted his broadcast before it went public, this is just the start."

Gaz hops off the couch, crossing the small distance to tap one claw at the screen. "What is that?" He asks. Seemingly hearing him, the drone camera focuses on where the main entrance of the building had been.

A dark silhouette of a person can be seen in the flames, growing darker and more refined until finally a featureless helmet emerges from the flames, a deep glow emanating from behind the lenses. It's followed by a body, clothes burnt away in some parts but the flesh beneath unharmed. Price can tell immediately it's a mage by the state of the arms — even from far away it's easy to tell the mage marks, the skin turned rough and dark like cooled magma, veins brimming with volatile mana.

Before the soldiers can fire a single bullet you lift one hand up, the dark mage marks turning to bright like fresh lava when mana flows from your chest to your fingers. A magic circle etches itself into the ground in an instant, so large the surrounding buildings fall into it's perimeter.

And with a second motion of your hand everything erupts into an all consuming cloud of ash.

Laswell's voice rings out. "That's Khaled's new attack dog."

Price and Ghost share a look, both know what will happen long before some nervous soldier caught in the ash cloud pulls the trigger. The cloud of ash explodes the second a spark is created in a weapon's chamber, plunging everything into chaos.

Great, a new wanker to worry about.

Price sighs, brows furrowing. "That's trouble all right."

Tag list: @resident-cryptid @diejager @lovingtyrantkitten @lieutnt

Masterlist <- Chapter 1 (you are here) -> Chapter 2

You can imagine the helmet however you want, but it's in the style of the Devtac Ronin helmet.

[wondersimp]

Red Fangs

Synopsis: The Red Hood can't be around all the time. Being the vampire king's General means it's his job to hunt down any that cross the king. These are the worst times for him because that's when he's forced to leave you on your own, exposed to the hungry eyes of the spawns. He's made it clear you belong to him and therefore off-limits to others. But with him gone, being his personal blood bag can only protect you for so long.

Before I start, I can not emphasize enough that this AU does not belong to me. This was directly based on @heavysighing-dreamyeyes series "Blood Bag AU" So if you haven't read that yet, go check that out first (trust me, the angst is delicious.)

Basically, I love Vamp!Jason and this is my way of coping with it. Or... when someone's writing is so good, you write a fanfic about the fanfic lol.

One week.

It took a whole fucking week to track down the bastard Dick sent him to hunt down.

Why they were on the King's shitlist was anyone's guess. With his mood lately, the reason could've ranged from anywhere between planning an uprising to some snide comment being overheard regarding the new "Discowing suit" (Now with a vampire cape!) worn last month. Whatever the case, Jason couldn't care less. They were to be taken out, and that's all he needs to know. He knows better than to go against the king's orders.

Unfortunately, someone must have tipped them off, cause by the time he left, the target was already halfway across the country. All it really does in the end is buy the bloodsucker a few days, but that meant another few days with you at risk without him. And Jason can't afford that.

He's made it clear multiple times to the court that you were his. His pet. His property. Therefore, you were under his protection, which means you were off-limits. Anyone who tried anything didn't live long enough to regret their mistake.

But that was when he was there by your side. Right now he's far away, and you were left behind to defend yourself. Alone and amongst a court of vampires, with only your status as the General's personal blood bag as protection. But he knows some of them will think with him gone, so is the danger. They'll either grow bold or decide the taste of you is worth the risk.

The Red Hood's name can only keep you safe for so long in his absence. Which is why he wants to rip the head off the slippery fucker wasting his time playing this damn game of chase. Luckily, it's not long before he gets his wish. He'd almost feel bad for the spawn if they hadn't put you at risk dragging this out.

Clearly, they don't know what happens when you piss off the King's second-in-command. Otherwise, they might have given up sooner in hopes for a quick death. It was too late now though.

Jason was the General for a reason after all, and it wasn't for being merciful.

----------------

He doesn't bother cleaning the blood off his clothes before immediately hightailing it back to the castle. By the time he gets back, he's a tight ball of anxiety and marching straight towards your chambers, barely registering the buzz of gossip around him. The feeling of unease grows as he gets close to your room, and he slightly begins to pick up his pace when he overhears a group nearby uttering your name.

Now he's running.

Your door practically shatters from how hard he slams it open. Little splinters of wood go flying everywhere, and he'd be more concerned about one hitting you, except the room was empty. No sign of anyone there recently.

...

Where the FUCK were you?!

------------------------------

The Red Hood is on the warpath, and no vampire is safe from him.

(A/N: You know that scene in 'Beauty and the Beast' where The Beast is roaring at Belle to 'GET OUT' while she's fleeing the room? Same vibes.)

There's screaming, bodies are flying, and by the time the Vamp! King is on the scene, the stone walls have been permanently dyed a scarlet red. Anyone unlucky enough to get caught in Jason's path was now a corpse. The only thing preventing Dick from being his next target is the fact that Jason still doesn't know where you are, and a part of him still clinging to sanity knows that he has to get a fucking hold of himself if he wants answers.

So, he crams that familiar rage into a box, bows his head, and kneels, submitting before the king of vampires.

When he lifts his head, Dick looks almost like he feels sorry for him. It's only the slightest twitch in his lips that tells Hood that he's full of crap. He then proceeds to go on a long-winded speech about what a tragedy it was. How it's such a shame what happened and he knew that they were his baby bird's favorite plaything.

Even as the cruel undead king of vampires, Dick was a dramatic little shit and he was milking this performance for everything it's worth, building up the tension while evading giving a straight answer.

It's taking all Jason has not to bare his fangs and lunge at the man he once called his brother. Perhaps Dick can sense it because he finally confirms his worst fears. One of the spawns managed to break into your room. You called for help. You called for him.

Nobody came.

One would assume that this would reignite Jason's blood slaughter from earlier, but there's...nothing. Even the familiar green haze permanently residing in the back of his mind goes quiet. There's a buzzing in Jason's ears and he wonders if he died again. But this time was worse because at least the first time he died you were still breathing. You were still alive. Now, you were gone.

...What was all this for then?

The blood on his hands, the distance he kept towards you, every moment of agony he had endured, every act of cruelty just so he could see you the next day, even if it meant you looking at him like a stranger. All of it, and it still wasn't enough. He failed you.

Slowly, the world starts turning and noise starts to filter back into his ears. Dick was still talking, informing him that he has your attacker in custody for him to deal with personally. That allows a flicker of something to reignite with him. He couldn't save you, but he could damn well make sure the one who took you pays for what he did. He wouldn't be able to make them feel a fraction of the pain Jason felt but he had years of experience as a crime lord. He could get creative.

But before anything else, you came first. Even now, you were his priority, and he wants to make sure you were sent off in a way you deserved. With the care and love you he couldn't give you in life. So playing the role of an obedient dog for a little longer, he asks where your body was?

"Body, what body?"

There's a flicker of sick amusement in Dicks eye while he watches Jason struggle on his last thread of patience before he finally reveals: "I never said they were dead"

It takes a moment for Jason to process what he said before a timid hope begins to rise, and it only takes another for it to immediately drop to the pit of his stomach as his brain flies a mile a minute.

If you're not dead then what-

Jason loses all the color on his face, and Dick smiles while watching the final piece click into place in his brother's mind. No, you were were not in fact dead.

You were turned.

And you've escaped.

A/N: Holy paragraphs Batman! I haven't written anything in like five years and then suddenly this thing just magically manifests from my cranium. Like, where in the ever-loving fuck nugget did this come from??? Anywho, this is unedited so sorry for any mistakes made. Will probably fix any errors later on. (If I remember) Do I have an idea where to go from here? Yes. Will I write another chapter? No idea. Maybe, if anyone's interested. And only with the approval of the original creator.

Again, this AU does not belong to me. All credit goes to @heavysighing-dreamyeyes and their Blood bag AU. Please check it out if you get the chance it is amazing.

Wondersimp...AWAY!!

[cornflowershade]

so i also agree that the tone shift to the lilly scene was super abrupt, and the scene itself felt kinda rushed and then glossed over— it didn't have time to breath lets say— BUT considering that the scene is there, I wanna talk about what I do like about it! The cool bits!

this scene showed up right around the time my mind was literally wondering about her. We had no conclusion about her previously, didn't see her go to jail or even hear that this happened. For all we knew she had gotten away. Considering she was a main villain in this series, it would've been kind of weird to just have her disappear off-screen and never be mentioned again. (If they didn't bring her back then it should've been swapped with a nice little line of "oh yes she went to jail.")

The FEELING I got when Fadel and Bison walked in there and the guards took their guns. The looks on their faces. You could see, feel, the disadvantage they were at. Because they've just gone through all this time in prison and they don't want to go back!! she has them at a disadvantage because you know they would risk everything by shooting her. They are fully aware.

The moment when things are getting tense and Bison says "I'll kill for you again. I'll do anything you say just let them go" — with like, tears in his eyes???? Do you realize how much this tore at my heart??? He's bargaining for Kant's life here at the expense of everything he's ever longed for himself. Despite everything he's gone through to get out. For dramatic effect I choose to believe that he meant this line seriously (or, I guess, that he had tears in his eyes because saying that even without meaning it was just so painful. But I'll take the more dramatic version.)

Then Lilly agrees to this deal. On a condition that Fadel and Bison poison Babe and Style's dad. I really had to think about this one for a while, because I was trying to figure out her logic. She agrees to letting their boyfriends go, provided they kill their boyfriends' loved ones first. Yes it could simply be as a form of punishment towards Kant and Style for exposing her... but noooo it's more than that. She's accepted Bison's deal of working for her again (supposedly. I mean she has no one else right now, the lady's lost everything so. I guess she could've been planning to kill the boyfriends right after anyway but imma take this at face value right now). So yes she agrees HOWEVER, if she's gonna take that deal, she needs to be certain they won't be able to leave her again. By asking them to kill their boyfriends' loved ones, she's asking them to do perhaps the one thing their boyfriends wouldn't be able to forgive, essentially force-cutting those ties so they can't run back. So they wouldn't even feel like they had the right to run back. And by leaving Style and Kant alive, she would have eternal leverage—listen to me or I'll send someone after them.

They meet at a family dinner table. I mean. The symbolism of it all. (It's been noted that Keen is very obviously missing from Family Dinner, but going beyond the fact that no one cared in their 'family' about him lol... it kinda makes sense. I don't think Lilly would be too surprised that he disappeared while she was in jail. He's probably far off without a trail to follow. She ALSO doesn't know, is not even slightly aware, that Keen also had a boyfriend and also helped betrayed her. No one told her this so he's simply not on her revenge list.)

Bison and Kant have repeatedly had the back and fourth of Bison saying he wants revenge and Kant saying "don't kill 🥺" -- and honestly, I was always kinda on Bison's side?? Okay hear me out. While again the aftermath of this wasn't dealt with at all (I mean at that point I figure Kant went... 'welp, nothing I can do now') I can't help but enjoy seeing the killers in a show about killers do their thing. Kant has always had a very optimistic view of Bison. He's said "i can't imagine you killing anyone." Despite having Bison quite literally threaten his life. He loves Bison but is trying very hard to think, Bison would never murder anyone. Continues trying to think that way for a very long time. Even though he is, objectively, wrong. Kant has seemed to be a believer in, "the power of love can make my boyfriend never do murder again!" and I don't mind that he was wrong. Hoping for Bison to get out of bad-guy-world without stooping to any murderous lows almost feels like a pipe dream, idk. Like back on the island, I remember Bison looking at Kant like 'he just doesn't get it'. Also, not achieving revenge through murder was always posed as Kant's wish for Bison, not Bison's wish for himself. Let the boy enjoy his newfound ability to make life choices lol. He had that dramatic line in ep. 11 "We'll make killing her our last masterpiece." C"MON. What a line. I can't be mad that he came through to deliver on that. And so they do. She killed their parents to steal that role in their lives, and now they kill her—with her own poison used against her—right at the end of the 'family dinner table'. Worth noting that Bison and Fadel did give the law a chance to deal with her, too. Like, they did give their boyfriends' way a chance. It's only when that didn't work that they went Okay guys, we need to be practical here and optimism won't save us. We tried your way now we try ours. She's gonna keep coming back if we don't end things here. Also Kant having to watch Bison kill someone and face up to the fact that yes, this is a thing that he is capable of. He was in fact a hit man this whole time. AghH!! Again we don't get to see this be processed sadly and then have another startling cut to them cuddling in bed. But at least what that does show is this: Kant saw what Bison is capable of—after all that internal denial going on for 12 episodes—and went Yes, I Still Love Him. And they both move on from it together.

roofie gang full circle!

By using the poison, Fadel and Bison manage to choose the one sneaky route that can't really be traced back to them. Not shooting her isn't just to 'make her suffer a more painful death,' it's to protect themselves. They're not going back to jail for this. As usual, Fadel is the one who formulates the logical plan, and then Bison delivers. (Though yes it would've been cool if Fadel got a turn to do the poisoning. Actually my thought on this is that they could've fed it to her together. But also it checks out that it was Bison.) Lilly has nowhere to run. She could try, but there's two of them and they both have guns. She's surrounded and as she said herself, by this point she has basically lost everything. And so she dies. (We do see her choking guys, I don't believe not seeing a dead body is supposed to imply she survived this.) They are finally free.

For a show about hit men, they actually don't do a lot of killing. They didn't even kill the guy Lilly ordered a hit on [who exposed the truth about her to them], as he was shown to be alive later on when Kant & Style gave him over to Christ. So, what have we seen them do? We had a flashback to their first kill—okay. But what about present day, how many murders have there been? From start to finish in the series. The answer is two. Exactly two. At the start of the first episode and at the end of the last. One hit for Lilly, and one hit for themselves. There's something poetic about that.

There might be more but that's it off the top of my head. So yes, I think this scene could've had more room, could've taken it's time more and perhaps been longer? It could’ve hit harder. And YES it was certainly tonally abrupt... Would I have missed it if it wasn't there? Okay, not really. Would it be interesting to see some fallout from it? Sure (actually it's a great opportunity for some fanfic haha). BUT... I dunno. All things considered I do think it was pretty cool. I’m not mad that it was there and it didn’t detract from my enjoyment. (Honestly the part I enjoyed least was probably Iceland DONT KILL ME OKAY. I love kantbison and the tickets scene was so sweet and perfect and needs to be there but the actual greenscreen Iceland part was kinda boring to me 😭 replace that screen time with some fallout idk. most controversial thing I’ve said in this whole post. Sorry I’ll leave)

[eternalmoonlight18]

Please Please Please (Don't Prove 'Em Right) Chapter 7

Trafaglar Law x afab Female!Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter warnings: none!

Summary:

You are the Heart Pirates' beloved cook and sniper. However, you were also an insufferable troublemaker who always seemed to get on Law's nerves. He swears he's going to get rid of you one day, but as much as he hates it, why does he find you fascinating? Was it because you reminded him of someone he was greatly fond of?

As your relationship with Law grows, he only hopes you don't fucking embarrass him. After all, he has an image to uphold as one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea.

This story starts off as short stories between (Y/N), Law and the Heart Pirates, then picks up into the One Piece canon timeline, starting from Punk Hazard. This is a slow-burn Law x Female Reader story!

Updates every Monday!

Cross-posted in Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57651295/chapters/146705491

Chapter 7: Birds of a Feather

Chapter summary: You and Law finally meet the Strawhats, and Law proposes an alliance with them. A big secret is revealed, and you do the unthinkable to Law!

A/N: I'm alive! That Ao3 curse is real LOL but im okay now. I feel bad for being gone for two weeks so I'm going to whip up another chapter by Friday. Thank you for your patience friends!

ps. i gave lots of hints about your brothers in the previous chapters, so i hope everything makes sense LOL

I also created a taglist. Let me know if you want to be a part of it!

wc: 4.2k

The kitchen was your safe space. It always has, and it always will be. Your earliest memories of cooking were at DanDan's shack, where you lived with your three brothers and DanDan's band of thieves. While your three rowdy brothers made a ruckus in the nearby forest, you found your passion in the kitchen. The aroma that would fill that tiny shack filled the air as you cooked was one of your core memories growing up, and you couldn't help but dream about that time.

You recalled that one night when everyone was eating your cooking after a long day of criminal activities. You made spaghetti with roasted wild boar, and everyone seemed to enjoy it.

"This is amazing (Y/n)-chan!" your blond brother exclaimed. His cheeks were adorably filled with food as he continued to wolf down your food. 

"Yeah! I always love it when you cook!" your younger brother squealed as he took a whole mouthful of the boar's leg. 

Your elder brother, who remained quiet, refused to compliment cooking, but his actions said otherwise. He, too, like your other two brothers, was wolfing down his fifth bowl of spaghetti. You giggled at the sight, causing the boy to turn red in embarrassment. 

The thieves and Dandan were also shoving the food down their throats. 

"You're the best out of all these brats here! At least you know how to fill our stomachs!" the tall and burly woman praised. The compliment made you beam with a smile, much to the boys' dissatisfaction.

"HEY! Quit playing favourites, you hag!" your eldest brother shouted.

"Yeah! We're the ones who caught the boar! If we didn't catch it, then big sister wouldn't have cooked it!" the youngest exclaimed.

"It's so obvious that (Y/n) is your favourite." the blond boy huffed. 

You stuck out your tongue at your brothers. "Stupid! If I didn't cook it, all of you could've starved because none of you can cook for shit!" you retorted.

The four of you started to get into a physical quarrel until someone stomped into the cabin and hit your head. 

"QUIET YOU BRATS!" a deep voice boomed, and all of you froze. You knew that voice too well.

It was Grandpa Garp.

The four of you whined and groaned in pain as a large bump started to appear on your heads. When the boys realized that Grandpa Garp was the one who hit them, they proceeded to run to a corner in an attempt to get away from his monstrous strength. But you stood your ground and glared up at him.

"Old man! What was that for? I didn't even do anything!" you exclaimed.

The three brothers' faces fell. Dandan and the thieves started clamouring because they were afraid that Garp was going to cause a scene. 

The broad man started to smile like a madman. At this sight, your younger brother started to shiver with fear.

But unexpectedly, Garp simply picked you up and started to smother you with hugs and kisses, much to everyone's shock.

"My sweet (Y/n)! Oh, how I missed you!" he said as he peppered your cheeks with kisses.

"Let go of me, you old geezer! I can smell your stinky gross breath!" you grunted as you attempted to push away from his strong hold on you. However, your efforts were fruitless, and Garp continued to shower you with affection.

"Eugh, that's so disgusting!" The older raven-haired boy revolted.

"That old geezer never gets mad at older sister..." the youngest muttered in jealousy. 

"I bet you wish that were you right now, right Ace?" the blond teased the older boy.

"Say one more thing, Sabo, and I'll burn your stupid top hat right now!" Ace sneered back.

The whole cabin erupted in laughter at the chaos that ensued. As Ace and Sabo started to hit each other, the younger boy tried to join in, only to be pummeled at the same time by the two older boys. The poor, younger, raven-haired boy stumbled back and rubbed his cheeks in pain. 

"You guys are mean!" he whined as tears prickled in the corners of his eyes.

"No one asked you to jump in, Luffy!" Ace scoffed.

"Guys, help me!" you squeaked, breaking the boys' attention away from each other.

The three looked up at you, trying to break free from your grandfather's strong hug. They shrugged and continued to quarrel with each other.

You closed your eyes in defeat. Your sleep slowly caught up to you from a long day. But it was cut short by a loud bang.

BANG BANG BANG

Jolting awake, you found yourself sitting up from the bed. As you slowly scanned your eyes around the room, you realized that you had a vivid dream of your childhood. You sighed and smiled to yourself. As much as you found your brothers annoying, you couldn't help but miss them, especially Luffy, your younger brother. Some people said the two of you looked alike, while some said that the two of you looked nothing alike. But at the end of the day, Luffy and Garp were your first family, and as much as you wanted to get away from them, you always found yourself seeing them again.

BANG BANG BANG

You groaned. "What the hell is that noise?" you muttered to yourself. Getting up from the bed and throwing in a pair of comfy grey sweats, you walked out of the room and followed the sound of the loud bang. As you walked in the corridors of the laboratory, it seemed that the whole place went down in chaos when you overslept. Caesar's men were running around all over the place, and the siren was blaring. The speaker was replaying the same alert over and over again: intruders had breached the laboratory. 

You curiously walked up to a group of Caesar's men. "Hey, what's going on?" you asked. 

They looked at you in silence before they said, "Hey, aren't you with Trafalgar?" 

"Well, if I was, I wouldn't be here looking for him, would I?" you scoffed.

The men looked at each other, then faced you. "You're coming with us," they affirmed. They proceeded to grab your arm, but quick reflexes were your strength, so you used your free hand to grab the pistol that was strapped to your hip and shot the man who grabbed you on the head. The other two men tried to grab you as well, but you ducked and spun your leg to topple them over. 

Another group of men saw your assault and proceeded to go after you. 

"What the hell is going on?! Why is everyone chasing me!" you yelled. Running through the corridors, you ran for a good five minutes, avoiding every one of Caesar's henchmen. 

As you turned a corner, a door appeared down the hall. With the henchmen hot on your tail, you ran until the door was at your reach. Swinging the door open, the cold winter air hit your lungs. Unfazed by the sudden change in temperature, you ran out and slammed it shut behind you and barricaded it with a rod you found leaning against the wall. Once you realized that they couldn't burst through, you slumped against the door in exhaustion. 

You didn't realize that Law and a bunch of other pirates were staring at you.

You felt stares piercing into you. Facing up, your face lit up as you saw your captain looking at you with a stoic expression. Then, to his right, you saw a man dressed in a long striped coat with a strawhat on his head. You felt your eyes bulge out with surprise once you realized who you were looking at. 

"LUFFY?!" you exclaimed in shock.

The straw-hatted man turned his head, and his face broke out in a huge grin once his eyes landed on you. 

"BIG SIS!! HEY!!" he yelled back as he ran to you. Your younger brother engulfed you in a bear hug, and you reciprocated.

Meanwhile, everyone around you froze on the spot. Not because it was unbearably cold but because they were confronted with the biggest revelation, especially for Law. 

"Big sister?!" everyone around you exclaimed in surprise. 

You turn your head and see Law with the most bewildered expression you've ever seen in him express. While his eyes were deadpan and void, his mouth as agape as he bore his stormy eyes on you and Luffy.

"Oi Luffy!" the cyborg man, who oddly had a woman's voice, called out. "What do you mean, big sister? You're telling me that she's your big sister?!" 

"Yeah!" the tanooki animal called out, who oddly had a deep voice. "She's part of Trafalgar's crew and your sister?!"

Shaking off his shocked expression, Law marched up, wedged between you and Luffy, and faced the latter. 

"Hey, Strawhat-ya, you can't just accuse my subordinate as your sister!" you sneered.

Luffy simply gave Law a confused look. "Why would I lie about big sis (Y/n)?" he pouted.

The doctor's face twisted into a darker scowl. In an attempt to calm him down, you place a gentle hand on his left shoulder, which seems to temporarily work. The Strawhats, except for Luffy, raised their eyebrows in interest. 

"But wait, I've seen her bounty poster before, and it never mentions her last name!" The blond man with an oddly high-pitched voice called out. 

"Well, the reason for that is-" you started. But you promptly stopped as you realized what was going on with these people and why their voices didn't seem to match their appearances. Whipping your head to face your captain, your suspicions were confirmed when Law refused to meet your eyes as he turned his head to his side comically. A large tick appeared on your forehead as you grabbed the jacket collar of your dear captain. 

There was that one time when you, Penguin, Shachi, and Ikkaku all switched into each other's bodies. You ended up in Penguin's, and he ended up in your body, and you had to practically beg Law to switch you back before that perverted crewmate did god knows what to your body. 

And it seemed that your damned captain did it again, this time with your brother's crewmates. 

"You shambled their hearts, didn't you?!" you sneered at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about." he stoically said.

"Don't play dumb with me, captain, switch them back now!"

The Strawhats watched in amusement and giggled amongst each other.

"What's so funny, guys?" Luffy curiously asked as he picked his nose. A booger stuck to his index finger, and the Strawhat absentmindedly flicked it to the tanooki. 

"HEY! DON'T FLICK YOUR BOOGERS AT ME ASSHOLE!" he boomed angrily. 

"Shihihi! Sorry Chopper!" 

"It's Franky! I'm stuck in Chopper's body!"

"Oh, you airhead, can't you see? I think the warlord has a thing for your sister!" the cyborg giggled.

"Huh? A thing? What thing?" Luffy asked.

"Of course, you don't know, you're an idiot. Trafalgar fancies your sister. It's so obvious; the warlord never displays this much emotion." the blond man sighed. 

"Nami and Chopper are right, Luffy. It's interesting, to say the least." the dark-haired woman lightly giggled. 

"I still don't get it, Robin." the Strawhat pouted as he glanced at you and Law, who was now fully listening in on what the Strawhats had to say about your relationship. While Law's face remained annoyed at the fact that they were gossiping about him, a light tinge of red appeared on the tip of his ears, but they were unable to decipher if it was from the cold or embarrassment. You, on the other hand, were looking away and staring at the snowy ground as if it was the most interesting thing ever.

"If you guys are done gossiping about me and (Y/n)-ya, perhaps we can continue with our conversation." the doctor coolly said. 

"Hold it! Before we can agree to anything you say, you need to switch us back, Trafalgar!" Franky/Nami shrieked.

"Yeah!" everyone else agreed.

You elbowed your captain, earning a quick glare from him. But alas, he sighed and caved in and switched the hearts of the Strawhat members.

Luffy's crew quickly celebrated the return of their hearts to the bodies before Luffy continued.

"So, what did you want from us, Traffy?" he inquired.

You quietly hummed to yourself. "Traffy, I like that nickname."

"Your younger brother is a bad influence on you," Law muttered quietly. Then, he quickly continued. "I propose an alliance with my crew and your crew, Strawhat-ya. I have a plan to take down one of the Four Emperors."

A collective gasp and murmurs immediately sprung up amongst everyone.

"Hey, Luffy," Sanji/Nami spoke. "Traffy may be the captain of your sister, but we can't trust him."

"We're pirates, after all. You need to be careful of who you're going to make alliances with, Luffy." Robin warned him.

Confused, you tilted your head to the side. "I trust you guys, why can't you trust us?"

Robin looked at you with kind but hesitant eyes then looked back at the Strawhat. "Luffy, do you trust him?"

 Your younger brother flashed a bright smile with a gleam in his eyes. His crew deadpanned.

"He and his sister are too trusting!" they all thought simultaneously.

"Hold on," the long-nosed man who you learned was Ussop started. "Traffy, you may think that an alliance is a collaboration between two crews right?"

"Well yes, that's what it is." Law deadpanned.

Ussop started to pat his captain's back as he continued. "Well, that's not what he thinks. Our dear captain thinks that an alliance means being friends. Isn't that right Luffy?"

"Yep!" your brother exclaimed with an eye-splitting grin. 

You started to jump up and down with excitement. Facing Law again, you grabbed the sides of his arms and started to shake him aggressively. "Captain! How exciting is this?! We have new friends!"

"The hell we are (Y/n)-ya! Remember, this is a mission! And quit doing that; I have a reputation to hold here!" Law exclaimed.

"What reputation?"

"Did you forget I'm a warlord?"

"Oh, that! But you don't scare me!"

The tattooed doctor scoffed and looked back at Luffy and the Strawhats, who were staring at him. 

"Oi Traffy! You and big sis look like really close friends!" Luffy called out.

Law's ears turned bright red.

"Enough of this nonsense! Now, are you going to help me or not, Strawhat-ya?" Law pressed on. "Now let me explain what's going on; we're going to take down Kaido. But we need to take down his subordinates before we do so. Now, Doflamingo supplies Kaido with artificial Devil Fruits called SMILE and weapons. And Doflamingo gets the SMILE fruits here, with the production of SAD gas, which Caesar Clown is overseeing. Our goal right now is to take down Caesar's operation and take him hostage against Doflamingo. The rest will work out."

However, once Law finished his lecture, you and none of the Strawhats were listening.

"Okay! So it's time to take down this lab!" Luffy affirmed.

"You got it Lu! It's so good to see you again and to do something with you finally!" you giggled.

"Were any of you idiots listening?!" Law growled as he glared at you and Luffy.

You and your brother looked at each other, then looked at Law. But at the same time, both of your eyes averted to the side, refusing to look at the warlord with your mouths pouted to the side.

"Yeah, we heard everything..." you both muttered at the same time.

Law's face twitched in annoyance. "I should've known. They both have the same lying face." he thought.

"Both of you guys have terrible poker faces!" the Strawhats exclaimed.

"Oh, you guys are siblings alright." Chopper giggled.

You broke out of your lighthearted actions and frowned. "You also have to help with the kids that are trapped here. I'm assuming you guys encountered them?" you darkly said.

"Yeah! They were begging to let them out!" Franky exclaimed.

"Anyways, now that we're in an alliance, you have to help us save the kids as well. Caesar is using them as his guinea pigs!"

"That I can agree with!" the blond said with a high-pitched voice. For some reason, Nami was in Sanji's body even though Law switched back the hearts of the Strawhats.

"Now, wait a minute, we're only taking down this operation (Y/n)-ya." Law countered.

"You can't be that heartless to leave those kids behind captain!" you complained.

"Do not push my buttons again (Y/n)-ya!" Law growled.

However, instead of yelling back, you pulled an unusual move that was new to Law. You remember Bepo pulling off a cute look every time he was in pain or whenever he needed something from Law. And for some ungodly reason, the captain's usual stoic facade was no match for Bepo's adorable glossy eyes. 

And so, you decided to pull off the same move to convince your captain to save the kids as well.

As you predicted, it worked a little too well.

"Please? Can we rescue the kids?" you begged him sweetly with glossy eyes.

As soon as you hit Law with those cute eyes, the poor man became immobile. He bore his steely eyes onto yours, and a bright blush bloomed across his pale cheeks. His pupils started to quiver, unable to hold his feelings of cuteness and aggression.

You inched closer and brought your face closer and pressed on, trying to break his resolve and to agree with you to rescue the poor kids. However, what you didn't predict is that he was going to transport you away from the group.

And that's what he did.

"Shambles." the doctor muttered, and within a split second, you and Law were teleported away from the group and into the middle of nowhere.

"Wha-" you stuttered, your ass hitting the pillowy snow on the ground. "Hey, what was that for you asshole?!"

You looked up to the looming man in front of you. His eyes were darkened and he was trembling.

You scoffed, unfazed by his spontaneous behaviour. "And why the hell are we away from Luffy and his crew?! I thought we were going to be in an alliance with them?!" 

The tattooed captain suddenly grabbed your sweater and hoisted you up to face him. His tattooed hands roughly cradled your cheeks as he finally revealed his face to you once more. He was still blushing, but his eyes held emotions of embarrassment and anger.

"You need to watch how you act around other people (Y/n)-ya! I don't care if it's your brother and his crew, I have a reputation to uphold here!" he growled.

Your head tilted in confusion. "Why are you so concerned with your reputation? You're already scary enough to anyone; you're a warlord for fucks sake captain!"

"I need to be taken seriously here!" he continued to lecture you.

"Let go of my cheeks!" you demanded as you squirmed to be free from his grasp. You successfully got Law to unhand your cheeks, but it didn't seem to faze him as he continued to ramble. 

"Just for once, I need everything to go according to plan! Do you know how long I've been planning this for? This isn't just about taking down an Emperor (Y/n)-ya, this is about avenging-"

Sick of hearing his rambling, you frantically grabbed the collar of his black coat, brought his face down to your level and gave a rough peck on his cold pale cheeks.

For once in his 26 years of life, Trafalgar Law has shut down.

The kiss only lasted two seconds, but for him, it lasted for five. He swore that his heart stopped, then started to run on five shots of espresso. 

You didn't think much of it, sure you harboured attraction towards your dear captain, but you saw how stressed he was regarding this whole mission, and quite frankly, you were tired of hearing him yap nonstop, so your mind conjured the most ridiculous thing you could think of and kissed him on the cheek.

Though your lips were chapped from the cold, you briefly felt his cool, soft cheek and a bit of his stubble as you pecked him.

Once he shut up, you pulled away, put your hands on your hips and started lecturing him. Law remained very still as he was processing what just happened.

"Captain, I understand that everything is happening now, and you're nervous about it going wrong. But for Neptune's sake, can you please shut up?! Calm down! It's going to be alright!" you pleaded.

The tattooed captain finally broke out of his frozen state and looked at you. "You- you!" he stuttered.

You flashed a mischievous grin. "What, a handsome man like you never got a kiss on the cheek?" you teased him.

That comment seemed to trigger him even more. "H-handsome?!" he squeaked. He was being completely out of character, and you were living for it.

You burst out into hearty laughter. "I'm just kidding, captain! Now, since you've calmed down, can we please also rescue the kids along with this whole plan to destroy the lab?" you asked.

Bewildered, Law covered his face with the brim of his fur hat and shook himself to calm down. Once his emotions settled, he looked up and faced you, with the usual stoic facade gracing his features once more. 

"Why do you want to rescue those kids so bad?" he inquired.

You hummed before you gave him your answer. "They reminded me of Luffy and me before we found our family." you finally answered.

The doctor's face softened at this confession. He knew that the past was a sensitive topic, and he didn't want to press on further out of respect. "I see. Very well, I'll help with rescuing the kids. You could've told me that in the first place before you pulled that ridiculous stunt. Speaking of which, where did you learn that from?"

"Isn't it obvious? From Bepo!" you giggled as you tried to eat the falling snow around you.

Law shook his head and softly smiled. "You're always full of surprises (Y/n)-ya. But can you please tone it down especially now that we're going further into the mission? Just please don't embarrass me is all I ask of you."

"No promises, cap! Did you like my surprise of giving you a peck on the cheek?" you cheerfully asked. You were met with a deadpanned face from your captain, but a light red was tinging his ears once again.

"Don't say stupid things like that! Now, let's head back," he demanded. Taking one more look at you, the man grunted. "Aren't you cold? You're only wearing long sleeves and joggers (Y/n)-ya," he asked.

You looked down at your outfit and jumped, suddenly realizing that you were severely underdressed for the weather. You screamed and latched onto your captain as you were looking for immediate warmth.

"CAPTAIN!! LET ME IN YOUR COAT!" you chittered.

Law scoffed and reluctantly opened his coat and zipped it up with the two of you inside. "We're heading to your room first and picking up your coat before we head back to the Strawhats," he muttered.

"So toasty~" you sighed as the tattooed doctor muttered something along the lines of "she's going to the be the death of me one day" as he Shambled the two of you back inside. 

-----------------

BONUS SCENE

"Hey Luffy, so how did you and (Y/n) grow up together?" Chopper asked.

"Well, she was kind of boring. While Ace, Sabo and I were out in the forest, she always stayed behind cooking! She makes the most yummy foods!" Luffy exclaimed. "Oh wait! There was this one time when we pranked Grandpa by drawing on his face while he was sleeping. He was super mad, but for some reason he only punished me and not big sis." he pouted.

Luffy's crew burst out into laughter at the story. 

"I see, you and (Y/n) are truly birds of a feather!" Robin said with a smile.

"What? We're not birds, we're people!" Luffy declared, clearly confused by the metaphor.

"You dumbass, what Robin meant was you and your sister are alike!" Sanji/Nami explained.

The Strawhat hummed in agreement. "I guess so! I'm glad that I got to see her again, but she never told me that she was with Traffy!" 

"Yeow! They make a pretty cute pair, don't you think?" Franky piqued up.

"Yeah! They look like best friends to me!" Luffy agreed.

The crew looked at each other and sighed. "Our captain is a total airhead, you guys." Ussop sighed.

"What?" Luffy pouted.

Robin gave a soft smile to her captain. "You'll see it for yourself soon Luffy."

A bright smile appeared on his face. "I can't wait to be friends with them!" he giggled.

The rest of the crew started to chat amongst themselves as they waited for Law and (Y/n) to come back so that the alliance would be finally brought to action.

----------

TAGLIST:

@hopelesslover06 @shakysif @eyes-ofhell @letmereadchristonabike @bi-narystars @valval08 @urbisexualfriend @emmaiscool22 @deathsmajestysworld @sp1ng @kitsunechan707 @orange-milky

[kozachenko]

(Click the image for better quality)

Yipeeee that Keiki and Mayumi fanart I posted the WIP of is finally done woooo- This piece was a very experimental one that I'm kind of OK on. Maybe because I've just gone insane looking at it for so long and I'm my own worst critic lol.

Artist's Notes;

So I've once again been playing around with my rendering style, mainly because I have been wanting to improve my lighting for a while now and as I was just scrolling through Tumblr, I saw some of the official art for that one webcomic-turned-animated-TV-Show Lackadaisy and was immediately inspired. I also have seen a technique a few times in the past where the lineart and shading are merged together, so I've been meaning to try that for a little while.

I did some experimentation on this one sketch of Keiki I posted in my sketch dump and I really liked the results of it, so I carried those over to this piece.

I ended up scaling up Keiki and Mayumi from the original WIP because I felt like they were both getting lost in the composition, and I'm glad for that because I think it works a lot better. I'm not a fan of how Mayumi's sword turned out at all, but it's not really meant to be the focus of the piece so eh. Overall, I think I could do better with my colours, probably because with Keiki and Mayumi's colours, I did them flat in greyscale and then used a brush on the overlay blend mode to colour all of them over, after which I changed the base layer for their colours from white to yellow and then lowered the opacity so it all went together better. I also decided to use gradient maps for a lot of the background elements, mainly to experiment with getting in my values first to make them pop out more. I ended up finding a really nice sky gradient on Clip Studio Paint that I really liked, and that kinda helped to establish the colour scheme of the background a lot. I think the whole "start in greyscale then colour" thing really works better with painterly styles rather than more illustrative ones, and while it is good at making sure your values are more readable, I honestly don't think I have the skill level to pull that off yet. Honestly, I think I've been looking at this drawing too long or maybe I added too much to it, but I wish I could've made the colours less monochromatic, but I'll just save that for the next piece I do.

I do love how the flame (...well it's more of a weird space rift than anything in this piece) and the lighting turned out, those were fun to do. I was initially struggling with the flame and how Mayumi is positioned in front of it before realizing "Oh wait! This is a weird abstraction of a weird creature! I don't have to follow the laws of anatomy!" and just dislocated it's flamey bottom jaw from the main body. I also changed the colours of it since I was really not liking how incredibly bright it was when it had lighter colours. Again, the gradient maps served the more painterly style of the flames well.

I also love how Mayumi turned out. I could do her sleeves better but that's more of just me needing to study how those types of sleeves fold in that position more. I'm also very happy with the posing, the technique I used for that was taking photos of myself in the positions I wanted, blocking in the silhouette and then modifying that by adjusting it to my lines of action that I drew on top of the original photos, and then sketching over the silhouettes and drawing in the shapes of the hands overtop of the photo if I needed to get the fine details right. As for what I do to take the pictures myself, I use a tall chair I have, prop up my phone with a phone stand, put on a ten second timer and scramble to get in position. Yes, I did have to use a bunch of thin markers I had to try and get the hand positioning on Keiki's pose right, yes I do have a fake sword that I used to get the positioning of Mayumi's arms and hand right, the sword was for an old Halloween costume from several years ago. I really like how both Keiki and Mayumi turned out in this drawing, I'll have to play around with these designs for them more in future drawings.

Also, if you wanna know why I draw buildings like that, when I watched Fantasia 2000 as a kid (One of the Disney movies where they make really beautiful animations to classical music) the way they drew the buildings in the first few sections Rhapsody in Blue segment (the jazz one with the cities) changed my brain chemistry and now whenever I need to draw buildings really quickly, I refer back to that. Since the buildings aren't really the main subject, I didn't put much thought into them.

As you can tell I am very tired of this piece, mainly because I made things harder for myself by overcomplicating the process compared to what I usually do, mainly with the whole "starting in grayscale then adding colour." I'd honestly just prefer having a black layer set to colour that I can just toggle on and off when I need to see the values, but it was good to experiment. And that was mainly the point of this whole drawing, to experiment. I'm definitely going to have to play around with this new style I'm going for, mainly because I liked how it turned out a lot in the augmented Keiki sketch, and also because I want to find ways of making it suit my style more. I also really want to keep experimenting with my lighting like this, it's very fun. Last but not least I am never starting in greyscale again because dear god I do not like the workflow it forced me into. I don't have a problem with the method itself it's mainly just a skill issue lol.

If you wanna read my headcanons for these two, I put them in my WIP post, so you can read them there if you want to. The more I look at this the more I prefer the simplicity of my WIP. I might go back to this and just take away the fancy colours and effects to see what it looks like without all of that stuff and reblog this post with that drawing, but for now, I don't think I can look at this drawing again for a while.

[thelovelylolly]

Hi! Another request you can take as long as you want to do write this!:) a billy hargrove x yn based on the song heather by Conan grey! Fluffy ending please!:))

Heather

Summary: You wish you were Heather... Warnings: hurt/comfort, self-doubt, reader is described as shorter than billy, fem reader, not proofread bc im a bit lazy at the moment lol Word Count: 826 Notes: i cant believe its been like 4 years since conan gray dropped kid krow im going CRAZY AHH

Having a crush on Billy wasn't rare at Hawkins High. Only a few girls were able to win him over, but those were flings to Billy. You were one his best friends, so you saw these girls fawning over him first hand. You saw all the girls laughing just a bit to loud at his jokes and trying to get their hands on him. But you couldn't blame them, he was handsome and charismatic.

It was no surprise that you caught feelings for him, too. You were better at hiding them since you figured you weren't his type.

That's when Heather came into the picture.

She was, at first, like the other girls trying to get Billy's attention. Then, things changed into something else. It wasn't a fling like all those other times, Billy seemed to actually be interested in her. He took her on a nice dates, walked her to her classes, helped her study.

Of course, Billy still hung out with you, but it felt like he was slipping away. It frustrated you, yet you said nothing. He was happy and that was enough for you.

Heather was everything you wanted to be. She was smart, funny, talented, pretty. She was the kind girl next door, the girl everyone would want. You quickly came to terms that she was the girl for Billy, because that's how it always worked. The popular, perfect girl always ended up with the popular guy.

You were fine just standing to the side and letting your best friend be happy. Did it hurt watching your crush be with another girl? Sure, but it would pass.

It had to pass, right?

You tried to make it pass, but Billy started to hang out with Heather more often and spent less time with you. You knew they hadn't made anything official, but things could've changed since Billy didn't have time to tell you.

One day, you even saw her with his jean jacket around her shoulders as she walked to her next class.

That's when you started to distance yourself from Billy. You were still there for him if he needed you, but you didn't want it to look like you were trying to steal him away from Heather.

Sometimes, they would catch your eyes as they walked past you at lunch and it made your heart ache.

You really wished you were Heather.

----

You were lounging around your living room on a Friday night, your parents having gone out with friends. You caught up on some magazines you followed and watched some shows, but you were bored. You'd usually spent your Friday nights with Billy doing dumb teenager stuff.

Now, you opted to stay in for the night.

You were flipping through one of your magazines when your doorbell rang. You sighed and tossed your magazine down onto the coffee table. You grabbed a nearby hoodie, not really paying attention to it, and pulled it over your tank top and sleep shorts.

You quickly went to your front door, sparing a quick glance out of the side windows before opening it.

Billy stood there, his hands in his pockets. You saw his eyes look you over before meeting yours.

"That's my hoodie," he said softly.

"What?"

"You're wearing my hoodie," he repeated, stepping inside.

You glanced down, noticing that he was right. He must've left it the last time he was over. You looked back up and saw a smile on his face along with blush on his cheeks.

"What are you doing here, Billy?" You asked.

"I..."

"You...?"

He sighed before pulling his hands out of his pockets and cupping your face with them. He quickly closed the space between you, giving you a short yet passionate kiss. When he pulled away, he kept your face in his hands.

"I really like you."

"R-really?" You asked, still processing if that kiss was real or not. "But what about Heather?"

"She didn't want anything serious," he answered, his hands slowly drifting down to your waist. "And she made me realize that I really just wanted you, she even told me to tell you that I like you."

A smile pulled at your lips as you felt your face heat up. "You got a taste of your own medicine, huh?"

He chuckled. "Guess so."

"Can I be honest?"

He nodded.

"I've liked you for a long time."

You reached up and cupped his cheeked, pulling him into another kiss.

"I could tell," he murmured against your lips.

You pulled away, playfully hitting him as he laughed. "You jerk!"

"I had a good reason why I didn't say anything!" He quickly said. "I promise."

You closed the door behind him then took his hand in yours, leading him to the living room. Then, you smiled and replied, "looks like we have time for you to explain."

He smiled, getting butterflies from knowing that he was the reason you were smiling. "Gladly, sweetheart."

[kuschelkissen]

So uh. Episode 6, huh? I mean, I knew I'd be disappointed when I saw that it was only 26 minutes long, and that fear became true. I absolutely think this ep would've been A LOT better if it had had time to BREATHE.

Like. No scene was really long enough to have actual impact? Even those that I liked were just at least 1-2 minutes too short.

The photo shooting? Cute! Love that Lu Guang could just lift Cheng Xiaoshi like that but didn't account for the change in center of gravity. Would've loved it a lot more if it had been longer, though?? Give me more of that wholesomeness, give me some more of the bonding with Xia Fei! (Cxs has a picture of both of them as his chat background??)

The scene with Wang Qing? The beginning was OK, I guess (wtf was that story Vein told her?? It would be funny if it was his own lol), but as soon as the mum took over, I felt like the rug was pulled under me?? It was NOT serious at all, and while it's kinda 'nice' to see that he apparently has his silly side from her, there was NO emotional impact, at least not for me. And again, it could've worked, if the scene had just. Been. Longer!! Give him time to process that this is his mum!? Give him time to be angry at her! Like he gave a whole speech to his dad, and he didn't even know it was him, so his mum should've gotten it worse??

I also high key hate her more than the dad?? Like?? Idk where she is in this moment, but she has to be at some place in the future to be able to dive back, but even if she were just 10 min into the future from here, at this point she was gone from her son's life for a decade and she's behaving like she just left for a week of vacation or so???

I feel so sorry for Cheng Xiaoshi... and the poor loyal soul is STILL waiting!!

The talk of Lu Guang and Vein also was... a bit underwhelming tbh? So you're telling me Vein asks him "Why do you look at me with murderous intent lol", Lu Guang answers "I have my reasons", and Vein then just leaves it at that? 💀

(Do you think Lu Guang said the Detective set the forest on fire? Since it was the same that Vein said and somehow that answer fits him)

The fight with Wang Qing was also... well. The fight was OK, BUT WHY DID SHE GO AND GET THE DAMN BOOK?! wtf?

And of course, the sweetie line was said to her 🙄 biggest letdown, but I expected it.

And then. Uh. What happened?

Does Lu Guang have another power? Is he able to remote-kill people? 😅 why did Wang Qing's eyes glow blue?? Does Vein's real name have anything to do with this??? And why does he (seem to) know that this is Lu Guang's doing????

ACK so many questions. Kinda wondering what that means for Lu Guang and how he will end up...? Like. Killing someone in cold blood isn't really a hero kind of thing, so I wonder if he will get punished for that 🥲

Either way, the whole death scene, or rather the aftermath of it, felt short again. Not even a real grieving moment for poor Xia Fei 😭

The kitty hat is back?? How??

Xia Fei telling them that he'll get the one who killed his boss, oh well, I guess we will see him again, but not as a friend anymore 🥲 i mean, that was to be expected, but... still 😭

I guess my biggest disappointment was finding out that this is the current timeline because wtf. So we just ignore that Cheng Xiaoshi didn't know that he could dive by himself in s1. Okay, cool cool.

Xia Fei disappearing in the end, uh, I guess I'll interpret that as him going underground on his hunt for the killer of his beloved boss. (Why did the other guy disappear? Who knows. Maybe Xia Fei finally snapped... (was that one of the guys that tried to drown him? Didn't have time to check, but he looked similar? Need to check the credits for names maybe))

And then Vein did a Bella Swan impression, I guess.

So who's the one with the fake death ability, since director Li apparently confirmed that Vein didn't have powers in the Yingdu arc? Is it Wang Qing, since the code was on her id? But how is Lu Guang involved then? ARGH.

Tldr:

Too much stuff happened in not enough time. The episode would've profited IMMENSELY from just 10 more minutes, though more would've been better imo.

Cheng Xiaoshi's parents are awful. Even if in the future we will learn that they had a good reason to leave him alone without a word, the way they were portrayed is not on their favour 💀

Looking forward to seeing the hot headed trio again in s3, but I'm also scared of it. (Did Vein have any agency in his fake death? Because I don't think so. And if that's the case, how did he come back? We all know the "came back wrong" trope etc, so what if he came back as Liu Xiao's puppet? Hah. There's potential for drama here, but at this point I'll just not get my hopes up lol)

So. I guess now the waiting begins 💀

[cyren-myadd]

Do you have any thoughts on the fact that in first scenario Spider was supposed be from Mexico and his name was Javier?

I don't think we ever had any real confirmation of original-Spider's ethnicity or nationality, but when his name was first announced as "Javier Socorro" a lot of people assumed he would be Latino Hispanic (from a Latin American country) instead of White Hispanic (from Spain) like he ended up being. That meant he very well could've been Mexican, or at least half-Mexican on his mom's side since I think he was always intended to be Quaritch's son. I believe they changed his first name to "Miles" to make the connection to Quaritch more obvious.

If Spider had been Mexican, it wouldn't have really changed anything in The Way of Water. He's still a human, and being a different color wouldn't change the way the other characters perceive him. The only thing that would've been different is that he wouldn't have had the nickname "monkey boy/monkey mascot," since having Sigourney Weaver and Stephen Lang calling a Hispanic kid monkey would NOT have gone over well.

Even though making him a different ethnicity wouldn't have changed the movie itself, I actually think it might've changed the way he was perceived by the audience.

This is a thought I've had in the back of my head for a long time, and this question finally gave me a reason to type it all out. But before I get into it, I do want to say that I am white and American, so I'm speaking from the perspective of a white American when I make this analysis of Spider's character and how he was perceived by American audiences. Now let's get into it:

Spider was a pretty controversial character. A lot of people hated him, but there was also a minority of people who really loved him too (me lol). Some people hated him because they felt like Neteyam's death was his fault or because they didn't like that he saved Quaritch in the end, which are reasons that wouldn't change because of his ethnicity, but there were also people who hated him because of his appearance. Spider was often described as "feeling out of place" and off-putting to some viewers. After I saw the Way of Water with my cousins, one of them (he is also white) told me that he hated Spider. When I asked him why, he shrugged and said, "he's a white boy with dreadlocks!" like that was the only reason he needed.

Now I'm just speculating here, but I think a small part of the reason why so many people can't stand Spider might be because he is white. Not because of racism against white people, but because of the context in which Spider exists as a white person. The Na'vi are very obvious allegories for indigenous American, African, and Maori people, and the RDA is a very obvious allegory for European colonizers and US corporations that exploited those groups. I can't speak for the rest of the world, but in America there are social controversies over white American people taking items that are culturally significant to other groups and wearing them as costumes. I know there's a lot of controversy over what is and isn't cultural appropriation, but when it comes to specifically white people wearing specifically Native American clothing, it's generally regarded negatively since most Native American people have said it's disrespectful because the clothing has cultural and spiritual significance.

And then we have Spider, who is not only white, but is also the son of two people who actively harmed the Na'vi, and he wears Na'vi clothing.

In the context of the Avatar movies, it makes perfect sense that Spider would dress and act the way that he does. He was raised alongside the Na'vi so it's all he knows. If you were going to fit Spider into the greater allegory of Avatar, he is similar to the historical figure, Olive Oatman. When Oatman was a child in the 1800s, her family was killed by a group of Native Americans, and she and her sister ended up being taken in by the Mohave people. She lived with them for several years before returning to a white settlement, and during that time she was assimilated into the Mohave tribe, wearing their clothing and receiving traditional tattoos. (Her story is super interesting, you should totally read more about it!). Spider is like a sci-fi version of Oatman, since his parents were killed by natives and he ended up being taken in by them and assimilating into their culture. In the context of modern day culture, a white woman getting Mohave tattoos would be considered appropriation, but in the context of Oatman's situation, it makes sense. Same thing with Spider. In-universe, adopting Omaticaya culture makes sense.

However, if you look at Spider through the lens of modern American cultural context, he looks an awful lot like a white kid dressing up in the traditional clothing of a culture his people harmed. If Spider had been raised on earth and was actively benefiting from the RDA's exploitation of Pandora, then what he's doing would be considered appropriation. But he wasn't. Even though that's not what Spider is, the association is still there. So when people see this "white boy with dreadlocks" as my cousin put it, they feel like there's something wrong with what they're looking at because they associate his appearance with cultural appropriation. I think if Spider had been cast as Latino, he might have been received a bit more favorably by the audience.

Once again, this is all just speculation, I don't really know if Spider's perception would've been different if he'd been a different ethnicity, and I acknowledge that most of the hate Spider received had to do with his character actions. However, I do believe that American audiences may have been partly influenced by the concept of cultural appropriation, which is where that feeling of Spider being "off-putting" comes from. I think it's definitely where my cousin's dislike of him comes from, since it's not about anything he did, but rather how he looks like.