#now you may be wondering why are fox and swan called that if there are no foxes and swans | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hookedonapirate · 4 years ago

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Summary: The Jones brothers are polar opposites. Liam's the safe and honorable one, straight-laced and straight as an arrow. The good son.

Killian's the dangerous one, the bad boy with tats, leather jackets, a motorcycle and a questionable past.

The only things they have in common are panty-melting sea-blue eyes, the flat they share in Storybrooke and a rare blood type.

Oh, and apparently their taste in women.

Or rather, one woman.

Feisty.

Blonde.

Gorgeous.

Green-eyed Goddess.

Killian saw her first, but she chose his brother—the nice guy over the playboy. And even though she’s dating his brother, it doesn't make him want her any less. If that's not bad enough, she moves in with them and he has to pretend he's not completely in love with her. His life could not get any worse…

Until Liam dies in a tragic motorcycle accident.

Leaving each of them with one half of a broken heart.

Now Killian and Emma are left helping each other pick up the pieces.

Just as they're beginning to learn how to live in their new reality, another riptide pulls them further into the deep end when she finds out she's pregnant with Liam's baby.

Notes: So I made this post on Tumblr the other day, and then this fic happened. If you haven't seen the tags, please read them before starting this story or becoming invested because it’s very angsty. First of all, this starts out as Swan Jewel? I don't know what their ship name is or if there is an official name, but yes, Liam and Emma are in a relationship in the beginning, and I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. If you're not comfortable with that, I highly encourage you to hit the back button.

Thank you @ultraluckycatnd for looking it over!

This story was inspired by Baby Mine by Kennedy Fox, and I loved the book so much and thought it was very much underrated. I’ve wanted to write a fic like this for a long time now because it’s one of my favorite tropes, but after I read that book, I just had to write my own take. Also, I made this post about a Baby Yodarita drink last year when it was trending and since the beginning of this story starts one year prior, 2019 and since Killian is a bartender, it was a perfect way to include the prompt.

The title comes from the lyrics of the song, Lay By Me by Ruben. The particular line goes like this:

"I hope you know through the rising tide That I'll be here and you can lay by my side"

If you've never heard it, I recommend giving it a listen. It's an amazing song and very fitting for this story.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VFJbLzEtoZw

P.S. In case you're unable to read the shoulder tattoo in the picture above and are wondering what it says—

"There is no happiness without tears

No life without death

And no true love without heartbreak"

Rated: Explicit for smut (including sexual fantasies, masturbation, implied and detailed sex, etc.) and language (lots of F-bombs).

Also available on: AO3 FF.N

Chapter 1

“Late again?” Liam chides when Ruby waltzes into work as if everything is completely normal. As if she’s not an hour late for her shift.

For the third time that week.

She gives him an apologetic smile, but Killian knows she’s not actually sorry.

He’s just wondering who she was with this time.

“Won't happen again, boss.”

“Damn right it won’t. This is your third warning. Next time, there will be a write-up,” he admonishes.

Frustration creases her forehead. “Geez, would you just chill? My car broke down.”

Liam crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes at her. “So, you mean to tell me your car has broken down three times this week?” he asks, holding up three fingers. “And on either of these occasions, you couldn’t pick up the phone and give me a heads up? Did your phone break, too?”

She flashes him a look as though the answer to his question is obvious. “I told you my car’s a piece of junk. And I tried to call, but no one answered.”

Killian fights off a laugh, knowing for a fact Ruby is bluffing. At least about calling tonight, since the phone hadn’t rung in the past hour. But he could easily check to see if she’d called on the other two days on the bar phone’s caller i.d. to find out for sure if he really wanted to.

“So get a new car. Don’t you make enough from your tips and the hourly wage I pay you?”

“I make enough from my tips,” she replies with a sarcastic smirk, “but I have more important things to buy.”

Liam rolls his eyes. “Like what? More six-inch heels, low-cut tops and short skirts?”

Ruby lets out an exasperated sigh. “How do you think I get good tips—by dressing like a Catholic schoolgirl?” She twists her lips and presses the back of her long, red-painted fingernail to her chin, pondering her own words for a second. “On second thought, that actually might bring in even more tips. Besides, you should be paying for my work clothes. Maybe then I could afford a new car.”

Liam scoffs. “You want me to pay for your outfits?” He shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

Ruby's eyes widen, as though she’s shocked he declined her request. “Why not? Can’t you claim them as a work expense?”

He nods. “Alright, fine. But if I’m paying for your work attire, then I’m choosing what you wear. Sound good to you?” he asks, knowing damn well she’ll never go for it.

Unsurprisingly, she shakes her head. “Absolutely not. I ain’t wearing no damn polo shirt and black slacks. I like my low-cut tops and short skirts, thank you very much.”

Liam sighs and cups his forehead in his hand to indicate she’s giving him a headache as he turns around and walks toward his office. “Just get to work, Ruby.”

She wraps her apron around her waist and mimics his words in a mocking tone, “Just get to work, Ruby.”

“I heard that!” Liam hollers.

“I could be already serving customers if it weren’t for my pain in the ass boss riding me every two goddamn seconds!” she shouts, hoping he heard that too.

Killian chuckles to himself as he rings up a customer for his drinks and hands him the change.

“That dude seriously needs to get laid,” Ruby huffs. “Maybe then he’d back off a little.”

“Ha! I doubt it,” Killian comments before taking another drink order.

Ruby heads to the dining area to wait on customers. She knows Killian’s not wrong to doubt Liam’s ability to show a little mercy. He’s worked for his brother for two years, longer than anyone has ever been able to stand working for him, and he’s never once seen Liam be lenient, not even to his own brother. He runs a tight ship, and Killian doesn’t see that ever changing. Liam has owned this bar for five years and takes his job very seriously.

Killian’s just glad he only has to work here for another six months. Or at least that’s the plan. He’s about to graduate from Storybrooke University and get his degree in engineering. As much as he enjoys working for his brother, or rather listening to his coworkers complain about his brother behind Liam’s back, he doesn’t plan on spending his entire life making drinks.

Liam emerges from his office an hour later and announces he has to take off for a while to run some errands. Killian’s confused because this is Liam’s night to manage the bar. He dedicates the majority of his other time performing administrative tasks during the week.

“What errands do you have to run on a Friday night?” Killian asks, his words laced with suspicion.

“Just some errands I promised someone I’d take care of. You’re in charge while I’m gone.” He pulls on his jacket and leaves Killian behind the bar with a confused expression on his face, wondering what his brother is up to.

Killian brushes off the thought, deciding to further question him later.

Liam heads out the door, but not before scolding Ruby for sitting down at a table full of rowdy men, chatting (and not about the menu). She may be into women, but she flirts with customers regardless of their gender for the tips.

Ruby curses under her breath and gets up, moving to her next table to jot down orders.

~*~

Emma sighs as Mary Margaret grabs her hand and pulls her into The Captain's Rum. Or more like, drags her in kicking and screaming. She doesn’t wish to be at this bar any more than she wanted to be at the last two. But her sister-in-law insists on the outlandish idea Emma’s going to find Mr. Perfect tonight. Or somehow get over her asshole of an ex-boyfriend after one night of drinking.

And even though it's been two months since she left Neal and his thieving and cheating ass, and as much as she wants to get over him, Emma knows it’s not gonna happen for a while. At least not tonight.

And yet, here she is.

One night of drinking can’t hurt, she supposes. One night of forgetting everything. Of numbing her pain. Or so she keeps telling herself, but that could be the alcohol she’s already imbibed at the other two bars speaking.

“So, how’s it going tonight, Rubes?” Mary Margaret asks the cocktail server once they’re seated at a booth.

Apparently, they know each other.

“Well, no one's tried to manhandle me yet, so it's a start.” The tall brunette with red streaks in her hair leans over the table and murmurs, “Not a great start, but it's a start.”

Mary Margaret rolls her eyes and laughs as she gestures at Emma. “Rubes, this is my sister-in-law, Emma. She just moved here from New York.”

Looking at Emma, Ruby grins and sticks out her hand. “Hi! Nice to meet you!”

Emma gives her a polite smile and shakes her hand. “Likewise.”

When Ruby brings the chips and cheese Mary Margaret ordered, she places them on the table along with two empty plates. Before arriving here, Mary Margaret decided they would put some food in their bellies before they added more alcohol so they wouldn't get too drunk too fast and have to head home early. Well, that was Mary Margaret’s idea at least. Emma would much rather be home in the comfort of her bedroom watching Netflix. Or rather, her brother’s and sister-in-law's guestroom they so graciously let her sleep in until she gets her own place.

“Enjoy, ladies.”

“Sure will,” Mary Margaret beams as Ruby leaves their table. She sips on some water as she scans the bar. Probably for potential suitors she can hook her sister-in-law up with, Emma surmises. “What about him? He's cute,” Mary Margaret remarks, her eyes trained on someone behind her.

Emma looks over her shoulder and arches a brow. “He’s cute if you’re sixteen. He looks way too young.”

“Well, he’s drinking, so he must be at least twenty-one,” Mary Margaret points out.

“He looks sixteen, and sorry, I don’t date children.”

“Emma, he’s not a child, probably a college student. And you act like you’re so old just because you already graduated. You’re twenty-two,” Mary Margaret points out like she’s jealous and wishes to be so young again. But she's only a few years older—the same age as David.

Emma groans. “No, thanks.” Her last boyfriend was immature enough as it was, and he was ten years her senior. “So, tell me, how are you and my brother getting along?” Emma asks, attempting to change the subject and get her sister-in-law to avert her attention from the college boys across the room. “Sick of each other yet?”

Mary Margaret whips her head around and scowls. “Of course not. Why would you ask such a thing?”

Emma laughs and raises her hands in defense. “Because I knew it was the only thing that would get your attention.”

Guilt and apology flicker in Mary Margaret’s eyes. “Sorry, Emma.” She lays her palms on the table. “David and I are just worried about you, that’s all.”

Emma sighs, frustration creasing her forehead. “I’m fine, I promise. Neal was an ass, and honestly, him cheating on me was a good thing. I needed the wake-up call, okay? I was blinded by love. But now that we're over, I can move on with my life. That’s why I let you talk me into bar hopping.”

A slow, hopeful smile spreads across her lips. “I know, and I’m so happy you got out of that relationship, Emma. David and I both are.”

Emma laughs. “I know. When I landed on your door stoop, we both had to stop him from driving all the way to New York to kick Neal's ass.”

Mary Margaret nods. “True. He’s very protective of you.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “I know. It’s both a blessing and a curse.” She takes a sip of water as she scans the bar. It’s the first time she’s been to The Captain's Rum, and everyone is so unfamiliar to her. New York is a huge place, especially compared to Storybrooke, but in this bar, it feels like she‘s back in New York. She swears everyone in Storybrooke is here.

Ruby returns to their table to sit and chat. And steal some of their chips, double-dipping them in the cheese. Emma fights off the urge to laugh at this as her eyes wander past Ruby’s shoulder.

Huge mistake.

The group at the bar counter disperses, revealing the most gorgeous sight she's ever seen.

Holy. Fucking. Hell.

She loses a breath when she sees what she can only describe as a fine specimen.

Good Lord.

Handsome features and such a delicious smile to accompany his perfect face as he chats with a male patron at the bar, she finds herself licking her lips.

“What about him?” Emma manages when she’s able to find the words in her throat.

Mary Margaret’s eyes light up before she even looks to see who Emma is staring so unabashedly at. “Who?!” She and Ruby both turn their heads, their eyes following the path of Emma’s gaze until they land on the target.

“You mean the bartender?” Mary Margaret asks, though, to Emma’s surprise, she doesn’t seem very excited; more like disappointed.

Emma tears her gaze away from the bartender, as much as she doesn’t want to. But she couldn’t breathe when she looked at him and she needed to come up for air. “Yeah, why not?”

“Why not what?” Ruby asks as she looks at Emma, curiosity flashing in her big hazel eyes. “Because if you’re asking ‘why not jump his bones,’ then I can’t think of one good reason.”

“Ruby, don’t encourage her,” Mary Margaret chides with a glare.

Ruby frowns, confusion etched in her features. “Why not?”

“Because… Killian is a player. Emma just broke up with her player of a boyfriend a couple of months ago. She doesn't need another one in her life.”

“Um, excuse me, I’m right here,” Emma groans wryly. “And I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions.”

“She’s not wrong though,” Ruby remarks. “He is a player. But a fucking hot player. Between the two of us, we’ve conquered all the women of Storybrooke.”

Emma lifts a brow. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Yep. Probably even some of the same women,” she winks, her words bearing no shame or remorse.

“Ruby, would you stop? Besides, neither of you have conquered me,” Mary Margaret points out with air quotes.

Ruby rolls her eyes. “Of course not. Prince Charming had already parked his car in your garage long ago.” She reverts her eyes to Emma. “If you’re looking for a relationship, he’s definitely not for you…” she leans over toward Emma, speaking softly, “but if you’re looking for a hookup to get over that cheating ex of yours, then he’s absolutely perfect for that. He’ll give you an orgasm sooooo hard, you’ll forget all about that scumbag. Then he’ll do it over and over again until he knows you won’t be able to walk for weeks.” Ruby grins wide. “Hell, you’ll forget your own fucking name for weeks.”

Emma gulps, having to recover from the images Ruby implanted in her mind of the man on the other side of the bar. Once she recovers, she furrows her brows at the conclusions she’s drawn from Ruby’s graphic depictions of what a night with the handsome, dark-haired bartender would be like. “How would you know? Have you two—”

Ruby laughs as though Emma just said the funniest thing she’s ever heard in her life. “Oh Gaaaaawwwwd, no! I don’t swing that way, honey,” she says, rising and waving off Emma’s words with a flick of her hand. “But I’ve seen the number Killian’s done on his conquests. People talk, especially the drunk, horny females who enter the bar. Plus, as I said, he’s my competition, so I have to know what he's working with… if you know what I mean,” she says with a wink.

“Yeah, I got it,” Emma groans as Ruby saunters away. Why do all the hot guys have to be players?

It’s just her luck.

Emma turns to catch another look at him.

God, he’s gorgeous.

Dark, wild hair, stubble on his chin and cheeks, and a fantastic body based on what she can see from her vantage point.

“Emma! Don’t even think about it! That man’s trouble and you know David would never approve,” Mary Margaret explains, pulling Emma from her trance.

She turns her head, glaring at her sister-in-law. “David is not my father. And besides, I’m a grown-ass woman! He can’t tell me who I can or cannot date.”

Mary Margaret gives her a motherly look. “I know, sweetie, but this man doesn’t date women, he fucks them and then sends them packing. David only wants to protect you from guys like him.”

“I don’t need his protection, okay? Or yours. I’m perfectly capable of looking out for myself.” Emma stands from her seat, and she’s not sure if it’s because of the alcohol still brewing in her system, or because her sister-law has expressed disapproval from both her and David, making this man seem like a forbidden, sinful dessert she’s dying to get a taste of, even though she’ll pay for it later. But right now she doesn't give a fuck.

She sucks in a breath and strides across the bar, ignoring Mary Margaret’s pleas and warnings.

Her eyes are fixed on him like a magnet. He’s wearing a black v-neck that fits him like a glove and shows off a provocative amount of chest hair, his tight, firm muscles bulging as he wipes down the bar counter. His muscles aren’t inhumanly large, just big enough for her to imagine him picking her up and easily carrying her to his bedroom like she weighs nothing. Emma can feel her panties grow wet just from watching him work.

But even though she doesn’t wish to be told who to be with, she knows she should heed her sister-in-law’s warnings.

What would one night of fun hurt, though? She’s spent too much time holed up in her New York apartment, wallowing in self-pity and heartache after Neal hurt her. She hasn’t been with anyone since then. And maybe she’s not looking to dive into a serious relationship right now. Or ever. Maybe she just wants to blow off some steam. And this man looks like he can handle such a task. She’s more than willing to find out.

Emma approaches the bar and stands in front of him, placing her hands on the counter.

“What can I get you, lass?”

Well, fuck me sideways.

He has a British accent too?

She knows she should run for her life, but before she can talk herself out of it, he looks up from his task, and she feels like her feet are glued to the floor.

Ho-ly hell.

He’s even more gorgeous up close.

His arms are inked with tattoos she so badly wants to trace with her fingers, and his striking blue eyes sparkle as he stares at her, his smile showing off a set of pearly white teeth.

Well shit.

She couldn’t run away if she wanted to.

~*~

Killian had been running back and forth behind the bar for hours, ringing up bar patrons, making drinks and engaging in small talk. It’s a typical Friday night at The Captain’s Rum; the place is normally busy on the weekends, especially since the bar is only a stone’s throw away from the university, and tonight is no exception. It’s crowded and loud, couples are dancing, and the women are scantily clad in either tiny dresses or short tops and skirts. As he’s grabbing beers and making cocktails, the bar continues to fill and grow louder.

He hands off drinks to a couple before moving on to the next customer.

“Hey Jones, can I get two Blue Ribbons?” his good mate, Robin, calls over the blaring music.

Killian chuckles and grabs the desired beers, popping off the caps before handing them over. “Taking it easy tonight?” he asks, leaning against the counter and gripping the edge of it with both hands.

“Aye. Regina doesn’t like the hard stuff. She’s more of a wine person.”

“Ah, I see.” Killian nods; he can definitely see that about Regina. He doesn't want to say this to one of his best mates, but the lass can be a little stuck up and quite bossy at times. She makes Robin happy though, so he keeps his mouth shut.

He chats with him for a few minutes, finally getting a few minutes of reprieve. As Robin heads back to his girlfriend, Killian takes the opportunity to wipe down the bar top. But before he’s finished, someone approaches the counter. His eyes are still trained on his task, but he can’t miss the long blonde hair, pink lace and fantastic cleavage, seeing as the view is directly in front of him. “What can I get you, lass?” he asks, throwing on his most charming grin as he lifts his head.

His smile is cemented on his face the second he looks up.

Killian’s accustomed to seeing pretty women entering his brother’s bar and parading around in clothes that barely cover their essential parts.

Yet nothing in the world could’ve prepared him for the woman standing in front of him on the other side of the bar counter.

No, not woman.

Goddess.

Emerald green eyes, soft pink lips curved into a shy smile, smooth creamy skin, long golden hair cascading over her shoulders.

Good.

God.

She’s breathtaking.

Stunning.

“What would you recommend?” she asks in a teasing tone.

Fuck.

Her voice is that of an angel’s. Pure and sweet and innocent.

She looks like everything he doesn’t deserve but wants every... fucking... part of.

“Uh… I um…” he stutters, scratching nervously behind his ear. He can’t form a cohesive sentence as he looks into those hypnotizing eyes. He wants to get lost in them, drown in them. “What are you… what are you in the mood for, love?” he finally musters, adding another one of his signature grins. “I can make you anything your heart desires.” What he wants to say is, “I can give you anything your heart desires,” but even that may not be true. As gorgeous as she is, he’s afraid he wouldn’t be the man she deserves. He’s never been the guy women like to take home to their parents, anyway. He’s the guy chicks like to have around for a good time before they eventually settle into a serious relationship with Mr. Perfect. He’s definitely no Mr. Perfect, more like a Good Luck Chuck, but at the moment, he feels like he could be fucking Superman for this woman. And he's only exchanged a few words with her so far.

She arches a brow and it’s literally the most adorable and sexiest thing he’s ever witnessed in his life. “Anything?” He senses a challenge in her tone.

“Try me,” he encourages.

She bites her bottom lip in thought.

He lied. Now that’s the most adorable and sexiest thing he’s ever witnessed.

“What if I said I wanted a Baby Yodarita?”

He arches a brow, very much intrigued. “A Baby Yodarita? Never heard of it.”

She laughs and the sound is music to his ears. “That's because I made up the name. But I figure it would be a green drink that looks like baby Yoda.”

“So, I take it you’re a Star Wars fan?”

“Are you a bartender?”

Just as he answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, since he’s behind the bar serving drinks, he catches her drift and flashes a smirk.

Could this woman be any hotter? And yes, as he’s asking this question in his head, he’s picturing Chandler Bing and the way he would say it, emphasizing the word be. Gods, he hates that he knows that about Friends. He hates that he actually likes that show.

“You don't really have to be a Star Wars fan to be a baby Yoda fan though. He's so cute, he's trending on the internet, haven't you seen?”

He chuckles. “Aye, who hasn't?”

She plants her hand on her hip, donning a sultry smirk. “So, are you up for the task, or not?”

He licks his lips and leans over the bar counter, his eyes locked with hers. He wants to ask her if she fell from heaven. Or if he just died and went to heaven. But he has a feeling cheesy lines wouldn't work on a woman like her. “I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific as to what task you’re referring to, love.” But who the fuck is he kidding? There is nothing he could do for her he would consider a task.

Only a pleasure.

Blush paints her cheeks and she leans over, meeting him halfway until her face is mere inches from his. “I have a few in mind… but how ‘bout that drink, first?”

Bloody. Fuck-ing. Hell.

Her voice is a mixture of sweet and seductive. He doesn’t know how she manages to pull off a combination like that. His eyes drop to her lips and he’s seriously considering kissing the holy fuck out of her over the bar counter, audience be damned. He almost groans just thinking about her soft, luscious looking lips pressed against his, but he swallows the sound before it leaves his throat.

He lifts his eyes to hers. “Sit tight, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” she says with a smile and takes a seat on a barstool. “Oh, and a Cosmo for my sister-in-law.”

“Coming right up.” It takes every ounce of strength within him to pull away, but somehow he does.

He has to take slow, deep breaths to peel his mind from the fantasies he’s already having of him and the blonde temptress watching him intently as he prepares her drink.

~*~

Emma snorts. She honestly didn’t think he would actually take her seriously. She was only kidding around. But he took her very seriously and eagerly accepted her challenge. And he did an amazing job.

She stares at the green drink in amusement, impressed, to say the least. He brought it to her in a margarita glass with two lime wedges sticking out like ears. The stem is wrapped in a napkin tied with twine and clearly made to look like Baby Yoda’s coat. And there's a cocktail stick tucked into the twine like a sword.

“Well? How did I do?” he asks, eagerly seeking her answer.

“It's so cute,” she comments honestly. “It looks great, but does it taste as good as it looks?” As she asks that question, she’s looking up into his gorgeous eyes. And she can’t deny she’s wondering the same about him.

Does he taste as good as he looks?

Before she brings the glass to her lips, he puts up a finger to stop her.

“Hold on.” He grabs a toothpick and stabs two cherries, one on each end, before sticking it into the drink, giving the baby Yoda a pair of eyes. “For the finishing touch,” he smirks.

After she stops laughing, she takes a hesitant drink. Once she takes the first sip, her face sours and she blinks a few times as she swallows. “Wow, that’s strong.” She arches her brow, pinning him with an accusatory stare. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

He chuckles. “Aye, isn't that the intention?”

She nods and grins. “This will certainly do the trick.” She rises from the stool and reaches into her back pocket, pulling out her phone case wallet, which holds her phone and money. “How much?” she asks, pulling out some cash.

He waves off her offer. “The drinks are on me,” he says with a wink.

“Are you sure? I don't wanna get you in trouble.”

“Trust me, I won't get in trouble.”

Taking his word for it, she tucks the cash into her wallet. “Thanks for the drinks, Killian.”

He arches a sultry brow, making her heart skip a beat. “So, you’ve heard of me, but I have yet to learn your name?”

She laughs and points at the name embroidered into his shirt. “Yours is right there.”

“Oh, that,” he chuckles, a light blush tinting his cheeks as he peers down and brushes his fingers over the letters. “My boss insists we have our names displayed on our shirts.”

“Well, your boss sounds like a pain in the ass.”

“He is, but I only have to work here for another six months. I’m graduating from SBU in the Spring.”

She nods as a group of people approach the counter beside her. She glances over at them and shifts her gaze back to him, wishing he had more time to chat, but she knows he has to work. “It's Emma,” she makes sure to tell him before the counter becomes too overcrowded. “My name,” she clarifies, in case that wasn't obvious.

“It’s nice to meet you, Emma,” he says sweetly, reaching over to shake her hand. When she slips her palm into his, she can feel the sparks from his touch, but instead of shaking her hand, he brings it to his lips and kisses the back of it.

Oh, God.

This man’s lips on her skin feel like heaven and sin. She has to clench her thighs to stop the throbbing she feels between her legs.

Fuck.

She feels the loss when she pulls her hand away and sees the loss written all over his face. “Well, I should um… I should get back to my sister-in-law,” she stammers after learning how to form words again.

He scratches behind his ear and opens his mouth to speak before closing it again like he’s nervous about something. “Of course, love.”

Emma swallows thickly and lingers a bit, patiently waiting for him to say what’s on his mind.

He must sense she's waiting for him because as she grabs the drinks and starts to back away from the counter, his voice stops her. “Emma?”

Good Lord, she loves the way her name slides off his tongue.

She cocks a brow, hoping he's about to ask for her number. Praying he does. “Yes?”

“I um… can you come back here before you leave? Say in an hour when it slows down a bit? I’d love to chat with you some more,” he says sincerely.

Emma purses her lips like she has to mull over his question. The offer is extremely tempting. But she has something else in mind other than talking. Something involving his hands all over her body and her legs wrapped around his hips as he's plunging into her.

And you know what? Fuck it.

She’s sure whatever he has in mind is exactly what she has in mind. Or at least, close to it. “Sure.”

His eyes widen in excitement and surprise, as though he wasn't actually expecting her to say yes. “Really?”

She flashes him her sexiest grin. “Yeah, why not? I’ll see you in an hour.”

“See you then, love. Enjoy your drink. May the booze be with you.”

She snorts and backs away from the counter, holding up her glass in salute before taking a sip. Their eyes are still locked before she turns around.

As she walks away, she cranes her neck to see him still watching her, even as he's serving other customers. She winks at him and has the pleasure of witnessing that adorable pink blush coloring his cheeks and the smirk on his lips before she faces forward and heads back to Mary Margaret.

She’s not looking forward to the lecture her sister-in-law is about to give her, but honestly, she doesn't care. She's looking forward to returning to the hot bartender, hoping to go back to his bedroom. Or the restroom. Either will do, really. As long as she gets to have him.

After Mary Margaret is done chewing Emma out and reminding her of what a player Killian is, and after she finally realizes Emma is going to do what she wants, regardless of what anyone says, they are able to have some fun.

Ruby keeps the drinks coming, and soon they’re tipsy enough to get up and dance among the crowd of gyrating bodies already on the dance floor. Emma glances over at the counter every now and then, and every other time, she catches Killian staring at her, sending shivers down her spine. And every time he tosses her one of his cheeky smiles, her stomach flutters with butterflies.

Emma's thankful Mary Margaret is plastered enough to let loose and not give her any shit because she has no idea what Mary Margaret would do if Emma told her she's going back to talk to Killian. Though she has a feeling if Mary Margaret were sober, she'd do anything in her power to make sure Emma stayed away from him.

When the time finally comes, they order an Uber, which takes much longer than expected. She helps Mary Margaret into the backseat and tells her she's staying for a bit longer and will catch another Uber when she's ready to leave. She doesn't dare mention Killian's name, or that she plans on leaving with him, for fear Mary Margaret will blabber to her brother. Because then he'll come marching into the bar on his white horse to find his sister with the bartender and embarrass the hell out of her.

Mary Margaret's too drunk and in no shape to talk her out of anything, so Emma’s able to escape, knowing her brother will take care of his wife when she gets home.

Emma quickly shoots David a text to let him know his wife had a few too many drinks and is on her way home in an Uber and that Emma decided to stay a little longer but will be home soon. Which is a lie.

She hopes.

Before the Uber drives away, Emma slips her phone into her pocket before heading back into the bar. She's fifteen minutes late, but it's not like Killian can go anywhere. He’s the bartender.

Once inside, she takes a deep breath and tucks some hair behind her ears, a smile playing along her lips as she makes her way to the bar counter. She has no idea what exactly will happen once she reaches him, but with a face as gorgeous as his, she’s pretty sure she would let him do anything he wanted to.

She’s also pretty sure he could help Emma get over her ex. As they say, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. And that’s exactly what she plans on doing.

As Emma nears the counter and spots Killian, the beaming smile on her face immediately falls flat.

And her heart sinks.

A busty blonde is standing at the bar, her hand running up and down Killian’s arm, her fingers tracing his tattoos. The woman is sitting on a barstool at the opposite side of the counter in a low-cut top that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination, and a skirt so short and tight it looks like it's been painted on. Killian’s standing in front of her, so his back is to Emma as he gives his full attention to the other blonde. It's almost time for last call, so it's now much quieter in the bar, and she's close enough to be able to hear their conversation.

“What can I get you, love?”

“A Tequila.”

“Tequilas are trouble,” he says matter-of-factly.

She moves in closer, biting her smile. “So am I,” she taunts.

“I’m fully aware,” he replies with a chuckle. He tries to move, probably to make her Tequila, but she grabs his arm, forcing him to stay. Though, forcing is a bit of an overstatement; Killian doesn't seem to be putting up much of a fight. “Would you like a snack, too?”

Mischief dances in her eyes as she licks her lips, ogling him like he’s the snack. “I’m looking at it, honey.”

Emma feels like she's going to be sick.

The woman leans in and bites his ear and then pulls away slightly. “Last weekend was incredible. Can’t stop thinking about having my legs wrapped around you,” she giggles.

Jealousy stabs Emma’s gut and disappointment shoots through her like a lightning bolt, bringing her back to reality.

Mary Margaret and Ruby were totally right.

He’s a player.

Unable to listen to them for another second, Emma spins on her heels and dashes out the door so fast, she almost tramples over some guys heading in at the last minute.

She should’ve listened to the warnings, but she was too blinded by the attraction she felt for Killian.

God, she’s a fucking idiot.

Why does she always fall for the dangerous guys? The ones who are bad for her? Why can’t she just find a nice guy for once? Someone safe. Someone who won’t stomp on her heart and discard it like trash without batting an eye.

She pushes open the door, tears stinging her eyes as she runs outside into the bitter, chilly night, hoping the Uber driver hasn’t taken off yet. But it's wishful thinking because she can't think of a reason why he wouldn't have left by now.

“Ooof.”

The air rushes from her lungs as she slams into a tall, solid mass.

Hands are gripping her arms to keep her from falling as apologies leave her lips. “Sorry.” She looks up at the man towering over her, Emma's eyes connecting with soft blue ones, which are full of apology.

He flashes a warm smile, his lips framed by a light brown scruff.

“I’m the one who should be sorry, lass. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

Shit.

He has an accent too?

What’s with all the accents in this town? She’s noticed a lot of the locals here weren’t actually born here. Or the States. She didn’t realize how much she liked men with foreign accents until tonight.

This man continues to apologize, but he doesn’t sound very sorry. At least not for crashing into her. “I was distracted,” he says with a smirk, giving Emma the impression she was what he was distracted by.

Emma tears herself from the trance she’s in and glances at the side of the road, where the Uber once was. “Shit,” she curses under her breath.

“Are you okay?” he asks in genuine concern.

“Yeah, it’s just… my ride has already left. And I’m too drunk to drive home,” she sighs.

Before the man can respond, his phone chimes from his jacket. “Excuse me,” he says apologetically, pulling out the device. He studies whatever’s on the screen with a worried expression, then looks up at her, his mouth slightly agape.

“Everything okay?” she asks with an arched brow, starting to shiver as a frigid wind sweeps around her.

“Um, yeah.” He glances at his phone again before lifting his gaze. “You wouldn’t happen to be Emma, would you?”

She freezes and just stares at him, not knowing how to answer that. Or rather, why she should answer that.

What the hell?

She's never seen this man before in her life, so how does he know her name?

Her heart pounds and she wants to run, but she's afraid she’s not sober enough for that at the moment. “How do you know my name?”

He appears to be hesitant as he holds up his phone, showing her his screen.

Emma takes it in her hands so she can get a better look.

Her eyes widen when she sees a text from a Nolan.

Nolan, as in her brother? Who else with the last name, Nolan, lives with a Mary Margaret and an Emma?

Nolan: I just received a text from Emma. She sent Mary Margaret home in an Uber and is at your bar. Can you make sure she gets home all right?

Her blood sizzles as she rereads the message. Then she reads the texts before it, a couple in particular sticking out like sore thumbs.

Nolan: So… I have a huge favor to ask.

Me: Sure, what’s up, mate?

Nolan: The wife and sister are going to the Rabbit Hole tonight. Emma just moved here from New York after a terrible break-up and Mary Margaret is determined to hook her up with someone.

Nolan: Think you have time to get away from work and keep an eye on my sister, make sure she doesn’t find any trouble?

What the actual fuck?

Why is her brother having this man spy on her?

Emma turns around and pulls back the hand still holding the phone, about to toss the damn thing.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, don’t shoot the messenger, love,” he pleads. “I need my phone.”

The endearment makes her shiver. Killian had called her love, too.

She spins around to glare at the stranger. “David’s using you to spy on me?” she demands firmly.

He holds up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t want to, lass, I promise, but I would’ve felt terrible if I said no and then, later on, found out something bad happened to you. I promise, I was only helping a friend and looking out for you.”

Emma sighs and hands his phone back, knowing he’s telling the truth. She saw his responses to David’s texts and gathered he didn’t wish to put his nose where it didn’t belong or to stir up any trouble. “David always has been good at persuading people,” she grumbles.

“Aye, especially when it comes to protecting the ones he loves,” he winks.

“Even so, he has no business spying on me!” she states louder than intended.

“I wholeheartedly agree,” he states adamantly, making sure to express how much he was against this whole idea, to begin with.

Emma crosses her arms over her chest, wondering how she never saw him at the Rabbit Hole when she was there. “So, you spied on me at the Rabbit Hole?”

He shakes his head. “No, I didn’t get the chance to. By the time I got there, you and Mary Margaret were already gone.”

Emma shakes her head and rolls her eyes at the thought of her own brother asking someone to spy on her. But she’s not surprised. “Brothers are so annoying,” she grumbles.

He chuckles, and the deep, hearty sound warms her heart a little, despite the chill in the air. “Agreed.”

She arches her brow, as though to ask him to expand on why.

“I have one of those, too. So I get it.”

Emma’s features soften, a small smile pulling at her lips. “Older or younger?”

“Younger. He can be quite the ponce sometimes, but at the end of the day, I’d lay down my life for him.”

“I usually feel the same about David… and then he goes and pulls something like this,” Emma remarks bitterly.

“I take it he does this a lot?”

“He did when we were younger. But then I moved to New York and he came here, so we didn’t see each other very much.”

“Ah, I see.”

Another gust of wind makes her shiver and has him removing his jacket and offering it to her. Even though she’s already wearing one.

“May I?”

She cocks a brow. “Won’t you be cold?”

He shrugs. “I rarely get cold.”

She gives him a soft nod. He looks like he’d be the type of man who knows how to stay warm, and therefore knows how to keep a woman warm. He has those big, strong arms and broad shoulders, and he’s very tall. She could picture herself being buried in his warmth, but maybe because she's currently freezing her ass off. “Thanks,” she murmurs when he goes behind her and drapes the jacket over her shoulders.

“It’s my pleasure, love.” When he’s standing in front of her again, he sticks out his hand. “The name’s Liam.”

Emma smiles and slips her palm in his.

She was right. He is warm. Very warm. “I think David’s mentioned your name a few times.”

“Probably not as much as he talks about you. In fact, I feel like I already know you,” he chuckles as they break the handshake.

“Hopefully, he had good things to say?” She almost groans at the idea of David spewing a bunch of embarrassing stories about her from when she was a kid.

“Aye. Very good things… well, mostly,” he admits. “But who doesn’t have at least a complaint or two about their siblings?”

She nods in agreement. “True. I complain about him all the time.”

He grins big and wide. “I don’t doubt that.” When his smile fades a little, he scratches his head as he looks at her, hesitant to form the next words he wants to say. “Well, uh… seeing as it’s,” he checks his watch, “almost two o’clock and not getting any warmer out here, how about I give you a ride home?”

Emma twists her lips in thought. Normally she wouldn’t even think twice about rejecting a ride from a stranger, but there’s something about this guy that tells her he’s not a serial killer or rapist. There’s something pure about him, a vast contrast to the bartender inside. That guy screamed danger and sin, but this man standing before her gives off completely different vibes. He has a warm personality, which is very refreshing, and he has honest eyes. Besides, she may not be able to stand her brother and his antics sometimes, but he's always had good taste in friends. And if David trusts Liam enough to keep tabs on his sister, then he must be trustworthy.

So with a feeble smile, she finally answers. “Okay.”

Tagging people who have shown interest. Let me know if you would like to be added. @itsfabianadocarmo @resident-of-storybrooke @onceuponaprincessworld @viajandosinalas @teamhook @captainswan-shipper88 @jamif @katielovesstarcrossedlovers @uhthreeyuh @lfh1226-linda @babyyouremyqueen @sthonour @julesep3026 @fairytalewhispersinmyheart @andiirivera @wefoundloveunderthelight @wickedsw4n @eleveneitherway @eherron14 @ouatpost @transparentclodsludgeweasel

#cs ff #captain swan #liam and emma #swan jewel #forced roommates #minor character death #angst #heartache #pregnancy #healing #through the rising tide #my fic

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lemonietrinket · 5 years ago

Text

Fragile Like Chandeliers ||| YoungK x Reader

Summary: You meet a truly intriguing man inside an expensive lounge on the job Genre: Small bits of fluff but its weak bc its more sensual, some angst, uhhh??? idk noir, gang Warning(s): very very vague references to injury/death Word Count: 2763 Song(s): Ambience AN: hey anon! sorry this took a little while :(( i also have... no idea if this was what you wanted. and its... also longer than my word limit that i put on my request notice. uh. oops. i tried to put some italian in there (for fake names of things) but i am not fluent and though i researched grammar, there are obviously many nuances to the language that i dont know so i apologise if they sound bad (feel free to correct me!)

fem!reader

~~~

Smooth jazz filtered through the swathes of people, bunched in small bouquets of dazzling jewels and shining gold. The low quartz-tinged lights kept the shadows in the corners, gently swaying to the beat as swept past, silver trays empty.

You were perched quietly at the sidelines, crimson velvet plush beneath your draping onyx dress. Eyes flickering across the chandelier above, you couldn’t help but smile at the memories that arose. The Eiffel Tower had been so beautiful in that moment, reflected in a thousand crystals suspended in mid-collapse before they shattered into their oblivions. Your fingertips traced across the emerald gem between your collarbones, settled comfortably between intricately carved swans. With their heads bowed and wings splayed they reminded you of home, a place you hadn’t set foot in for a long time. The aching rarely reared its head, but this evening it teased at your heartstrings in a way you would never admit to any other.

Well, perhaps maybe one.

As your attentions were briefly piqued at the sight of a man with a bellowing laugh, who strode past you with his arms wide and decorated with cufflinks made of silver knots, you had moved your feet to stand. However, that was when your keen eyes glanced back across the room, only to meet another pair.

They were the eyes of a fox, ablaze with wit and narrowed in curiosity, and they stared you down and enraptured you in seconds. You found yourself glued to your spot and not giving a single damn about it, as the man bid his colleague a farewell and began to make his way towards you.

With a face that only a dream could make, the smile he gave a passerby who greeted him oozed confidence; the single nod of his head that followed knocking his effortlessly curled fringe ever-so-slightly into his eyes. It led him to run his hand through the tousled locks when he faced you again, and had you not been on the job you would have no doubt swooned.

The man was clearly something special—his suit crafted of ambrosia, a clean cut jet besides pristine white, paired with dress shoes that shone as he reached where you were sat.

You peered up at him silently, waiting to hear the voice that fell from those plush lips.

“Good evening,” he greeted.

And boy was it luscious.

You responded in kind, consciously making your eyes bigger as he extended a palm gently towards you. “Might I take you for a dance?”

After a few seconds pretending to mull it over, you let your hand slip into his. He helped you to your feet all while you were too focused on the rough pads of his fingers stroking the back of your palms.

He led the pair of you to the small area sectioned off for dancing near the live band. Passing a few other couples already swinging with the saxophone’s melody, you were captivated by how he effortlessly weaved the two of you to the centre.

All he’d said had been ‘excuse me’ and ‘sorry’ but somehow it had eased anyone in the vicinity and made them move away with no less than a grin and ushered laughter.

He was remarkable. And if it turned out he wasn’t what you were looking for, you would be stunned.

Coming to a stop, he stood broadly before you. With a hand caressing down to your waist before settling there as if it had always meant to be, you entwined your fingers with his other as you felt across his shoulder blade. His sensuality was thrilling, the closeness of your chest to his sending your heartbeat into irregular motion, and you had to admit he was talented.

“So,” he began, voice low and smooth like the late evening wine sipped in candlelight, “what must I call this gorgeous beauty before me?”

Lip unconsciously teasing between your teeth, you simpered. “You first.”

A smirk formed on his lips. “Younghyun.”

“Y/N.”

“Ah, a perfect name for a perfect lady.” He took the lead and you let him, following his slow sways with small steps of your own. “And a perfect voice too—there’s an accent there, if I’m not mistaken?”

“There may be,” you replied coyly, “Italian, born and raised.”

His smile brightened, “I’ve always wanted to visit Italy. The views, the food, the music...” he stopped himself with what could only be described as a sheepish laugh, “sorry, I’m probably preaching to the choir here.”

“It’s fine! I miss all of that quite often nowadays.”

Your grip tightened while your heart lurched. Attempting to keep yourself under control, you hid your disdain behind a smile. How had you let yourself slip up like that? Since when did you wear your feelings on your cheek for a man you only just met?

As the song changed and the tempo quickened, Younghyun twirled you round by your fingers. “So what brings you all this way here, to one of the most exclusive bars in Seoul?”

“Why, do I not look like I fit in?” you enquired.

As he pulled you back to his chest, he stayed quiet for a few moments, his eyes carefully taking in the curve of your cheeks. “I’ll be absolutely honest with you,” he glanced around the room before coming back to look you in the eye, “you’re too good to fit in here.”

“I am?” You were hanging off his words, and despite your rational brain reminding you that he was just smooth talking, the way small butterflies began to send ripples through your chest had you very nearly believing him. It was as if that emerald upon your neck carried no weight at all.

“Of course.” His response was quick, sincere, and slowly the heaviness returned. You could feel it swaying a beat behind your movements together.

“I’m here to get away,” you finally explained, eyes lowering from his and focusing on his bow tie. It was spotless, folded crisply at his collar, and for a split second you wondered if it too pressed at his neck. “I’m a writer but... life can be so restricting, you know? How can I write about lives when I haven’t lived myself?”

The words slipped easily off your tongue, and you felt the tension leave your shoulders. Meanwhile, when you gazed up again, you found his smile tinged with sadness.

“I understand that. Sometimes what you end up in isn’t what you want,” he said.

Confidence filling your veins, you slipped your fingers from his and ran your hands to interlock behind his neck. “I’m so glad you get me,” you whispered in his ear, “no one really does.” Closing the distance, you rested your head against his chest, face turned away from his knowing eyes that seemed to cut into you.

It was only a matter of seconds before Younghyun’s hands both swept to the small of your back, cradling you gently. You pondered upon how he looked at you right then, as your eyes watched the couple beside you. They were in the same position as the two of you, swaying with the dwindling music. When they caught a beam of light as they turned, you saw how old they were, time etching at the corners of their eyes, giving them permanent eye-smiles. The man in question was truly beaming however, at the woman in his arms. He had a knowing glint in his eye, something you simultaneously wished you knew and were happy to not know the context to—without it, after all, they stayed painted in silver. The woman, much shorter and spindly in her old frock—you imagined it was the one she wore at the last wedding she attended—seemed so content, her lips mouthing the words to an unknown song, her feet moving in synchrony with his.

Her eyes were closed, you noted, and once you had done there was no going back. You turned your head the other way, your own gaze remaining wide open.

“Enough about me, what job do you do?” you asked, loud enough to be heard without moving, but it was pointless, as his answer came back as a teasing retort.

“What do you think I do?”

You shifted your head to come face to face with him again. You were so close to his lips it would only take seconds to bridge the gap, and the apprehension hurt. “I don’t know. Something dashing.”

“Oh really? How come?” His smirk had returned, mischief glimmering in his eye much like the chandelier lights did, urging you to say out loud what you only intended to infer.

Cocky bastard, you thought, smile growing as you spoke. “Because someone as handsome as you could only do something dashing. Otherwise it wouldn’t be fair.”

As the saxophone picked up behind him, you moved your head to settle upon his shoulder, snickering as he whispered into your ear.

“There it is...!”

You playfully tugged at the hair at his nape to chide him. “Come on, tell me, what’s your job?”

He seemed momentarily distracted, before brushing off your words with a laugh. “Trust me, it’s not as interesting as you think.”

“How could it not be interesting?” you countered, leaning in closer to his neck so that your breath would flutter across his skin there, “you wouldn’t do it otherwise.”

“You can’t be sure of that,” he retorted, swinging you round and pulling you back so your shoulders met his chest, “you’ve only just met me.”

“And sometimes a chance meeting is all it takes,” you uttered, running your fingertips down the backs of his hands at your waist. With your head turned towards him, but your eyes remaining apart, you swayed your hips with his as you continued, “I’ve seen many faces, Younghyun, I think I know people well now. And you have the face of someone who knows so much and yet hasn’t said a word.”

You got no words in direct answer to the ramble of ones you had procured. Instead he spun you back around so that he could take another good look at you, and he drank in your beauty as if he were a dying man. His lips parted to speak hours before he finally did. “How much more do you know about me?” he eased through a coy smile.

“I don’t know,” you hummed, tracing the line of his tie with the back of your finger, “why don’t we find out?”

Your boldness earnt a single laugh, your dance partner silent before he adjusted his grip at your waist. One hand shifted up your back and held you close in an embrace, before he gently lowered you back. You held onto his shoulder as well as his gaze, as he followed you into the dip. With lips millimetres away from yours, you had been certain he would close the gap, and press a kiss where he’d been hinting for the entire night. His eyes fluttered down to the sight of your painted lips, then back up to your curious stare. “Shall we get drinks?”

You beamed. “Sure.”

Lifting you back to your feet, his hand never left the small of your back as he guided you towards the bar, back across the lounge. You stuck close to his side to avoid the clusters of crowds as the grew and punctured the sensual melodies of the band. Tucked by his shoulder, a sense of peace washed over you. When there was a sudden crash of spilled drinks to your right you didn’t even take a glimpse of it in, and instead kept your head low and inclined towards your partner of the night.

You reached the bar in no time, and the only time he left your side was to minutely slip ahead, to pull a bar stool out for you to sit upon.

Sending him a teasing eye roll you giggled at his silent gasp of exaggerated disdain, before he sat beside you. With his body facing you, he leant on an elbow until the bartender came over.

“Sir, madam,” she greeted with a polite smile, “what can I get for you?”

“Bokbunja for me please, and for the lady,” he addressed you with a smile, “drinks on me, what would you like?”

“No, it’s ok, I wouldn’t want to cost you—”

“Oh, Y/N, you could cost me the world and I wouldn’t care,” Younghyun interrupted,

You considered continuing with the humble act, but truth be told you didn’t have the patience for it, and you were pretty sure it wasn’t necessary. If that wasn’t an expression of a hooked man, then you no longer knew what was.

You scoured the towers of intricate bottles behind the bartender, hued amber through to olive and deep magenta. They were oddly beautiful, catching the light not unlike a thousand crystalline shards, muted by their labels written in calligraphic ink.

Making eye contact with the bartender, the corner of your lips easing into a tiny smile while you ordered, “Well, if you’re so sure. Segreto Classico, please.”

The woman’s stare widened, her smile becoming rigid as she glanced at the man at your side. You followed her stare a few moments later, once she’d stepped away with a nod of her head to make the drinks. You languidly drew your eyes up and across Younghyun’s figure. It was as if he was made for tuxedos, his clean cut jacket lining his chest perfectly and accentuating his shoulders. Now that he wasn’t touching you, your hazy thoughts began to playfully contemplate if he was real at all.

You found him frowning at his phone quizzically. “Everything ok?” you asked, leaning upon the counter to try and get a better look at his face.

He did a double take to the bartender and then finally to you, a dispassionate grin covering his lips. “Oh, yeah it’s all good, I’ve just... got to take this call, if that’s alright?”

“Oh, no problem, I’ll be right here waiting for you,” you settled your chin upon your hand at that moment, though he didn’t appear to catch your sultry display as he smiled blankly, before raising his phone to his ear and walking towards the balcony.

You watched him leave, the energy of the room dipping as he melded with the crowds.

You were brought out from your vacant stare and spiralling thoughts by a a sudden clink to your side. Snapping your head over, you found your drink placed by your elbow, the lace design in the glass shimmering in the dim lights. The bartender meanwhile glared at you while she poured the second drink.

“You shouldn’t order that so blatantly,” she scolded, “you know full well that the drink isn’t on the—”

“And you think a member of la Giarda would drink anything else?” you interjected bluntly, taking your glass into your hands and swirling the ice amidst the clear liquid. The mint scent wafted around you and slowly cleared your mind, leading you to recount in your head what had occurred mere moments prior as if weeks had passed.

The bartender shushed you urgently, but her tension didn’t travel across the counter.

“Relax,” you urged with a snicker and knowing look, “no one knows the name here. He hasn’t got a clue. I’ll gather the information without a hitch don’t you worry.”

The woman places the second glass, taller and more simple than yours, in front of the empty bar stool. “You better not blow my cover,” she mumbled sulkily.

“You know I won’t,” you iterated, taking a sip and letting the electrifying taste sink in as you watched where he had disappeared off to.

“Because we’re only going to get one shot at this, so he better be—”

“He’s the right guy,” you snapped.

And just as your glare dwindled, the crowds parted to reveal Younghyun, phone tucked back in his pocket and expression back to life. You caught his eye once again, and in an echo of the first time, you were captivated once again. This time however, in a different way.

As he approached, you felt a jab to your heart, like twisting glass. The newfound clarity had left you open and vulnerable, and here he offered the blow without knowing.

When the chandelier cast dappled lights fraught with shadows and curtailed amber across his handsome face, all you could see was the suspended chandelier shattering to the ground. The shards finally experiencing their fate as time caught up with them.

You didn’t want him to end like that too.

~~~

AN: i took a fair bit of inspiration from noir films, so i apologise if you don’t wear dresses/heels

Masterlist

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spaceorphan18 · 4 years ago

Note

What do you think are the most underrated glee songs? Like, they’re awesome and why doesn’t fandom love them more?

Oh this is such a neat ask! Let’s see, I think I’m going to list performances that I think are pretty good, but I don’t see people talking about as much. You’re not going to see much Klaine on this list -- mostly, at least around these parts, I think their performances do get the recognition they deserve.

Season 1:

Push It (Showmance) - It’s really quite funny

Bust Your Windows (Acafellas) - Mercedes first gets to shine

Maybe This Time (Rhodes Not Taken) - Lea and Kristen Chenoweth kill this one.

Dancing With Myself (Wheels) - I just like this Artie solo

Smile (Mattress) - I think both versions in the episode are pretty good, and one is a rare Finchel duet I enjoy

Hello (Hello) - Lea and Jonathan Groff are amazing together

Open Your Heart/Borderline (Power of Madonna) - I just wanna talk about all the Madonnas in the hallway

4 Minutes (Power of Madonna) - Kurt and Mercedes get their sexy on, and I don’t feel like that’s appreciated enough

Run Joey Run (Bad Reputation) - I mean, you guys, this might be one of the funniest things they show ever did, and the fact that the point was missed by so many made sure the show rarely did straight up comedy numbers again

Dream a Little Dream of Me (Dream On) - Artie w/Tina and Mike dancing, it’s cute and bittersweet

Season 2

Sing (Duets) - It’s a super cute duet between Tina and Mike

Forget You (The Substitute) - Idec that it’s Holly, I love this one

Make ‘Em Laugh (The Substitute) - I don’t think Matthew Morrison gets enough credit for how talented he is.

Just the Way You Are (Furt) - I’m not a huge fan of Finn’s singing - so I kinda of like to acknowledge when he does a good job, and I really like this one.

The Living Years (Special Education) - The Hipsters rock it, man

Only Child (Original Song) - It is what is, okay?!

Jesus is My Friend (Original Song) - I’m giggling just thinking about it

Bubble Toes (Night of Neglect) - Mike’s dance number is fantastic

Ain’t Now Way (Night of Neglect) - Merecedes’ numbers end up in the worst episodes, and it’s a shame, because sometimes they get overlooked.

I’ve Gotta Be Me (Born This Way) - this song gets forgotten among the true gems during this episode, but it’s a nice Finn and Mike number

Nice To Meet You, Have I Slept With You (Rumours) - This is another hilarious original song done by April and Will often forgotten.

Friday (Prom Queen) - As a boy band song, it really works

Season 3

Anything Goes/Anything You Can Do (The Purple Piano Project) - it’s truly amazing -- especially for an unknown guest start that’s basically one and done.

Spotlight (Asian F) - Another Mercedes solo that I think flies under the radar.

You and I (Mash Off) - Will and Shelby duet, the adult stuff often gets overlooked I think.

We Are Young (Hold Onto 16) - It was probably over played on the radio at the time, but I think they did a fantastic job with the cover, and it works well as a group number.

We Found Love (Yes/No) - Wemma gets a bad rap a lot of the times, but I think this actually really works, and is a nice scene

The Rain in Spain (Choke) - You guys, it’s a heavy metal cover of a classic song, I’m not the only one who finds that hilarious, right?

Mean (Props) - Beiste and Puck singing a duet that fits their story well, but since we don’t talk about these storylines much, this rarely comes up.

Starships (Nationals) - Unique is on fire, and I liked VA’s set more than ND’s.

Season 4

Call Me Maybe (The New Rachel) - idec, I love it and find it amazing and it energizes me, shut up.

Busters Get Popped (The New Rachel) - still giggling

Chasing Pavements (The New Rachel) - I think Melissa Benoist got a raw deal having to be paired against Lea Michele, but I think she has a lovely voice, and really brings this one alive.

Everybody Talks (Role You Were Born to Play) - it’s a nice song and a nice duet between Kitty and Jake

Whistle (Thanksgiving) - okay it’s not a good song, but my god does it make me laugh every time I hear it

O Holy Night (Swan Song) - Clearly, I’m not putting Rachel songs on this list, but this one -- I’m giving her this one. This is beautiful and fantastic in all the right ways, and one of my favorite Rachel solos of the series. One of the few times she’s not over emoting a serious song, and it’s a nice relief.

Don’t Dream It’s Over (Swan Song) - It’s a bittersweet song that I think really works for the tone of the moment.

Torn (Naked) - what another Rachel solo?? Yeah, visually, the duet with herself is really striking

Not Getting Married Today (I Do) - Let’s give Jayma Mays a second of recognition for her ability to do this one.

You’re All the World to Me (Girls and Boys on Film) - Will and Emma duet that is notable for the choreography alone

How to Be a Heartbreaker (Feud) - the cinematography and choreography is unlike anything else on the show, so I find it fascinating.

I Still Believe/Superbass (Feud) - I mean, let’s give Jane Lynch credit for spoofing Nikki Minaj, I mean, c’mon

Everybody Hurts (Lights Out) - I don’t like Ryder, and I really don’t like the actor who portrays him, but this acoustic version of the song is really fantastic.

Superstition (Wonderful) - Mercedes, Blaine, and Marley on this Stevie Wonder classic that, again, flies under the radar a bit

Rainbow Connection (All or Nothing) - Glee snuck in a cover done by a third party participant at Regionals that’s really good, and you probably didn’t even know it.

Season 5

If I Were a Boy (End of Twerk) - A lot of the newbie stuff gets (understandably) overlooked, but Unique’s version of this is emotional and haunting and often forgotten about

What The Fox Says (Puppet Master) - I don’t think this is as bad as everyone would have you believe.

Away In a Manager (Previously Unaired Christmas) - I rarely give props to this episode for anything, but this was really well done, and the only song from this episode that I’ll listen to.

Don’t Rain on My Parade (Frenemies) - Yes, it’s a jazzier/pop version of the song, but I think Santana does better with it than people give her credit for.

Hold On (Trio) - I freakin’ love this group number. It’s amazing.

Toxic/Defying Gravity/Valerie (100) - lumping them together because I actually enjoy all of these better than the originals. Oops.

Loser Like Me (New Directions) - Yes, the lyrics are terrible, but I love this arrangement of it

LoveFool (Opening Night) - Omg, another Rachel solo - this one is also hilarious

Season 6

Tightrope (Homecoming) - Jane can really sing, these new newbies bring it

Home (Homecoming) - I think it’s a super tight group number that doesn’t get mentioned often, but really works.

Bitch (Hurt Locker 1) - There has never been a more perfect Sue song. Not sure if it’s underrated? But wanted to point out that it’s notable.

At Last (A Wedding) - really the best part of that ceremony

The Final Countdown (Rise and Fall of Sue Sylvester) - It’s nice that they included one last comedic performance

Listen to Your Heart (We Built This Glee Club) - I’m glad Rachel and Jesse got one last number together

Take Me to Church/Chandelier/Come Sail Away (We Built This Glee Club) - I think the New New Directions last competition set list was pretty good!

So, uh, yeah - didn’t see it on here? I probably really loved it and everyone knows that or I don’t think it’s that great to be remember, lol

What are your favorite underrated songs?

#Anonymous #great question nonny!#that's how s.o. sees it

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captcas · 5 years ago

Text

Worth Fighting For (6/?)

WORTH FIGHTING FOR by capthamm

Killian “Hook” Jones is a dominate up and comer in the UFC while Emma “The Savior” Swan’s career was cut short. When Hook’s manager moves up and the office brings in UFC’s youngest legend to keep him in check, will either of them be able to handle it?

read on ao3 // tumblr: ch 1/ ch 2 / ch 3 / ch 4 / ch 5

[CHAPTER 6/?]

“Humbert, huh? Didn’t peg him as your type, Swan.” When Emma called to move today’s check-in meeting with Regina to tomorrow afternoon, he pried as to why. He was foolish to assume it had something to do with him.

Why would it? It’s not like she kissed the living daylights out of him on Friday.

One day he’ll stop chasing this woman.

“Yeah, well he asked if I wanted dinner and I figured why not.” She’s deflecting, and he can sense she didn’t plan on telling him this. “That’s none of your business anyway. Can you move the meeting or not?”

“As you wish, Swan.” He hangs up after agreeing to her new meeting. Not wanting to hear anymore about her date.

He had hoped the kiss meant something, that he meant something.

Seems like foolish is the word of the day.

He calls up Will and Robin and they agree to meet him at the pub for a drink. He doesn’t care if it’s a Monday, the radio silence after their kiss followed by this phone call warrants at least one glass of rum. Killian spent the entirety of the weekend trying to run into her again. He worked out more than he has in months, feigning the need to train but really just hoping to catch a glimpse of her at the gym. She never showed. He sits at the bar waiting for his friends and replays Friday night in his head for what must be the hundredth time.

He knew nothing good would come from challenging her, or kissing her, but he couldn’t help himself. It’s like he loses all sense of balance around her, his entire world tilting on its already unstable axis. He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to numb the migraine that’s been pounding in his head since she kissed him.

He thought his life may actually be looking up for a change. Foolish.

Robin and Will walk through the door as he polishes off his second glass. The looks on their faces mirror one another and he knows they’re going to make him talk. “Not tonight, mates. Just drink.”

He waves for the bartender to bring over their drinks as Robin speaks up, “We are not playing that game, Killian. You don’t call us on a Monday for ‘just drinks’ if there’s nothing to talk about.”

Sometimes Killian forgets Robin isn’t really his father.

“Aye, out wit’ it, mate. Who’s the lass?” Will wiggles his eyebrows clearly amused by whatever Robin told him. “I haven’t seen ya like this since–” Robin elbows him in the side. “Oi, mate what was that for?”

Robin shoots Will an icy glare before turning back to Killian, “Come on, what happened?”

Killian sighs, knowing there's no way around this, “Emma and I shared a kiss.”

Robin chokes on his whiskey (again) and Will whoops and slaps his back. “Aye, mate! Thatta boy! What ya looking so down in th’ dumps fer then?”

Robin rolls his eyes before turning to Killian warily, “What happened after?”

Killian shakes Will’s hand off his shoulder, and finishes his glass of rum. He responds through the burn of the liquid coating his throat, “She moved our meeting with Regina because she has a date,” he holds a finger up to Will who looks ready to order a round of celebratory shots, “with Humbert.”

Robin hisses and Will lets out a low whistle, “Aye, that’s rough, mate. Next round on Rob.” Robin goes to argue but it falls short to Will shouting their order. In an unspoken agreement, they spend the rest of the night talking about anything but Emma Swan.

This is why he called them, enough humor and good sense to help him ignore everything that’s weighed him down for the past three days. It works until he finds himself alone in his room wide awake at 2am. Finding the events of Friday night flooding his thoughts once again.

Where’d he go wrong?

He couldn’t have “gone wrong”; she kissed him.

He grabs his phone, accepting his fate of yet another sleepless night. He mindlessly scrolls through Twitter begging for anything to take his mind off the woman who won’t leave his thoughts. Before he knows it, the glow of the clock threatens 3am and he feels his body gives in where his mind would not. The last thing he hears is the slight ding of what is probably a Facebook notification before drifting off to sleep.

. . .

This date is probably the worst idea Emma’s ever had— besides maybe kissing Killian Jones— jury’s still out on that one.

It’s not that the date is bad, it’s actually damn good . The food is fantastic, Graham is a complete gentleman, and the conversation is easy. It feels like she’s known him her whole life.

So why does it all feel so wrong?

She has no idea until they’re standing on the sidewalk and Graham is chatting about some ancient bottle of whiskey he has back at his place and she tries to smile at him in that specific way she wants to reserve for Killian.

Killian.

She suddenly understands why this entire night has felt off. That kiss with Killian meant more to her than she ever wanted it to– she had really hoped it would get him out of her system, not engrain him deeper into it. She knows it’ll more than likely take some time, and they should really know more about each other than their fight records, but she finds herself oddly willing to put in some work.

Dammit, Killian Jones.

She smiles politely before thanking Graham for the food and feigning exhaustion despite the fact that she’ll be lucky to catch even a wink of sleep tonight. She’s positive he expected their night to continue, but she’s not in the business of leading men on. Graham isn’t stupid and can probably tell this is their last date, but he’s nice all the same and ends the night with a chaste kiss to her cheek and helping her into the cab.

She gets home and thanks Ruby for watching Henry, before checking to make sure he’s actually sleeping. Ruby tries to ask about the date but gives her a knowing look when Emma practically shoves her out the door. “That’s ‘cause it was with the wrong hottie.”

Emma rolls her eyes when she hears her friend through the door and decides pretending like she never heard that is probably for the best. She jumps in the shower, her mind racing with all the realizations she had after one night with a man who was not Killian Jones. She isn’t sure if it's the buzz of the wine from dinner or the electricity that is still lingering in every single nerve from their kiss on Friday night, but as she lays in bed she finds herself grabbing her phone before she even realizes what for. She scrolls to his name and types out a ridiculous amount of text messages before landing on something decidedly simple:

Emma: Tomorrow? Same time. Same place. I’ll buy.

She fully expects to regret it in the morning, so she’s surprised at the anticipation which she feels stirring in her gut. Emma’s not usually one to kick things off– she doesn’t usually kiss men like that either– but with Killian Jones she finds that fear dissipating leaving behind only excitement and maybe the smallest trace of hope.

Emma wakes to find an abundance of texts– mostly from Graham who apparently didn’t get the hint– but is disappointed to see her text to Killian left unanswered. She tells herself he’s probably not up at the ass crack of dawn like she is– kids will do that to you and she’s pretty sure he doesn’t have kids. She makes a mental note to ask– subtly of course– he doesn’t even know about Henry.

Shit.

She somehow makes Henry breakfast and wonders the best way to tell her client/guy-you-kissed that she has a son. She’s truly shocked when she gets said son to the bus on time, and walks into the office around 8:15 giving her enough time to prepare before her meeting with Killian. As she’s settling in at her desk, she sees Regina call her over. Emma sighs, nerves fluttering in her gut for more reason than one, and walks into Regina’s office.

“It comes to my attention you’ve never attended a Fight Night?” Regina asks while stirring creamer into her coffee. She’s not sure how Regina knows that; she mentioned it to Sidney in onboarding, but— well, that’s how she knows. There’s no judgment in Regina’s voice, but Emma can’t help suddenly feeling inadequate for the position she’s been given.

Emma sighs before rambling a bit, a habit she’s consciously trying to kick, “Well... obviously I’ve fought in them... but that was when UFC was still on Fox... and since they’ve moved to ESPN I haven’t–”

Regina cuts her off, “Alright then, we will set up a time for you and Jones to attend one. I will book the hotel rooms and secure tickets. It will be good PR for him and a good way for you to get a lay of the land before his first official fight.” Regina is scrolling through her calendar now, Emma assumes looking for the next time there’s a fight relatively close. “Ah, yes, Miss Swan, they are in Maine this weekend. Can you make yourself available Friday and Saturday night?”

“Of course, Mrs. Mills. Thank you, Mrs. Mills.” Emma stands up to leave her office as Regina speaks again.

“Oh and Miss Swan, I trust you can tell Mr. Jones of his new obligations for this Friday and Saturday.”

Emma’s excitement at the prospect of attending a Fight Night without actually having to work seems to have overshadowed the realization that Killian would be attending as well. She sighs, “Of course Mrs. Mills, I have a meeting with him now. Thank you again.”

Emma leaves Regina’s office and immediately pulls out her phone to see if Killian got her message. There’s still no reply but she supposes she deserves that– she did ghost him after kissing the holy hell out of him. She shoots off a message to Mary Margaret asking if they’re available to take Henry this weekend, and grabs her laptop. Taking a leap of faith, Emma grabs walks to the coffee shop with only a sliver of hope that he’ll be waiting for her at all.

She can’t help but let out a sigh of relief when she sees Killian sitting at their usual table– with two drinks. He’s scrolling through his phone and doesn’t notice her walk in. She takes a deep breath— and a selfish moment to really drink in every piece of him— before approaching him. As she enters his space, he looks up politely, meeting her eyes. She can’t help but notice they are almost navy, a stark difference from the normal sea blue she usually finds there. She realizes that she’s staring when he clears his throat and chuckles, “Good morning, Swan.”

. . .

He didn’t expect the notification he heard just before shutting his eyes for the night to be from her– definitely not after the way he acted during their last phone call– but Killian would be a bloody liar if he said his heart didn’t do something absolutely stupid when he saw her name on his phone. He didn’t answer– a slight jab, sure– but he’s allowed to be petty.

It killed him.

Killian had hoped she’d still come –had thought it daft but had hoped all the same– so when he caught the flash of blonde out of the corner of his eye, it took every ounce of his willpower to not look up. As she approached the table he scrolled through his email inbox (as though he didn’t clean it out every morning), not reading a single word.

She steps awfully close to him and he can no longer play ignorant to her presence. He looks up and meets her emerald eyes. They’re almost hesitant in their gaze, but she’s staring. He smirks at that thought and decides to put her out of her misery with a slight grunt and a greeting. He uses her nickname despite himself, more out of habit than endearment today.

The smile she responds with is radiant.

He’s never going to be able to stay away from this woman, how could he when her dimples– whoa, Jones .

She sits down next to him. “I said I would buy.” She seems happy and he can’t help the flare of envy which runs up his spine.

He turns back to his phone, hoping to filter her ability to read him by averting eye contact and the words slip out before he can stop them, “How’s Humbert?”

He regrets it immediately, but she doesn’t even flinch. “Well, based on the 23 text messages I received today, I’d imagine much more interested than I am.”

Killian’s head snaps up and he has to physically put his hand under his chin in order to stop his jaw from dropping. She smirks - almost knowingly- as he answers, “That bad, huh?”

She shrugs, but it’s everything but nonchalant, “Not bad, just not interested.” She pauses, presumably for him to say something, but he’s already made up his mind. This is her race, he’ll follow her to the end of the earth or time or wherever the fuck she wants to go, but she’s driving. He just nods with a smile and she seems to take that as a hint to keep talking. “Anyway, I have some news.” His breath hitches entirely involuntarily— don’t be ridiculous, Jones, Humbert wouldn’t have proposed after one date — she rolls her eyes. “Not bad news. At least I don’t think it–”

“Come on, Swan, out with it.”

She relaxes as he cuts off her nervous babble, “Mills is sending us to the Fight Night this weekend... in Maine. I’ve never gone as anything but a fighter -and not since the network switch- so she said it’d be a good idea for me to go and learn the ropes. She wants you to come for a PR stunt promoting your match, which is in four weeks by the way...”

Her voice trails off in his head as he wraps his mind around spending a weekend with her. He’s not sure it’s a good idea– he’s hovering awfully close to the line of professionalism Emma seems determined not to cross– but he doesn’t care. This is his chance to really get to know her and he’d be a damn idiot not to take it.

“...Killian are you even listening to me?”

She’s giving him one of her token annoyed looks that he knows means she’s not really annoyed and he can’t help the smirk that forms as he answers, “Aye, love. This weekend is Maine with you, and four weeks until my next fight. Do we know who I’m fighting yet?” He takes a sip of coffee to hide his obvious nerves at the last question.

She rolls her eyes, but he can tell it’s all in jest, “I literally just said that, Jones. They emailed me today. It’s some newcomer, Phillip “Sleeper” Rose. They’ll officially announce it after the fights this weekend. He was on the Contender Series last season and has only fought twice– seems reckless to put him up against you and his lack of fights will probably make training tough...”

Killian nods his head in agreement. It is a stupid stunt and will definitely throw off his usual training which includes researching his opponent’s past fights– usually theres more than two. “Aye, it will.”

Bloody hell.

He sighs, scrubbing his left hand across his face. He’s not usually nervous for fights but somehow he feels like he owes Emma a win, like her career depends on him– it sort of does. She must notice his worry and she reaches across the table. Killian flinches at the unexpected contact but she holds a bit tighter. He should love this, but honestly confusion washes over him first. He can’t read what she wants and it’s driving him insane.

He needs a break.

Killian pulls his hand from hers and he internally winces at the wave of disappointment that crosses her face, but he can't do this. He doesn’t want to sway her opinion of him and he’s worried he won’t be able to take it slow. “Anyway, love,” he winces again– habit betraying him once more, “is there anything else for today?”

She looks confused and he feels his own heart breaking, but it's for the best. He wants this decision to be her own. “Uh, no I don’t think so. Just remember we have the check in meeting with Regina this afternoon.”

“Of course, Swan. I’ll see you there, aye?” He gives her a soft smile and basks in the one she gives back for as long as possible before standing up and heading towards the door.

. . .

Emma isn’t really sure what just happened. The Killian she’s been working with for almost two weeks now was not the one sitting across from her right now. She could read the conflict all over his face.

She did this.

Fuck.

“Killian. Killian! Wait!” What is she doing?

He turns around at her voice, seemingly stunned by the fact she followed him– she doesn’t blame him. “Did I forget something, Swan?” He smiles warily and scratches nervously behind his ear– she’s not saying it’s adorable, but it’s adorable.

“Uh,” wow, she does not do this, “Can we talk… not about UFC?”

His smile reaches his eyes. “Of course, love.” He leads them back to their table– they have a table– calm down, Emma.

“So, this is weird now, right?”

Killian chuckles at her bluntness and she can’t help but relax a little bit. “A bit, love. I’m just not entirely sure where we stand.”

She sighs, “Me either. I sorta fucked this all up. I want to be a team– friends even? Can we... start over?” She gives him a hesitant smile.

“I’d like that.” She doesn’t think she’s ever heard a more genuine string of words… or seen more genuine eyes… and that smile. God damn, Emma. “Killian Jones.” He reaches out his hand and looks at her expectantly.

She chuckles to herself and grabs his hand, desperately pretending she doesn’t remember the way it felt tangled in her hair, “Emma Swan.”

He smiles that smile, “Pleasure, love.” She can’t help but smile back. “I’ll see you later, hm?”

She nods, “Friends?” He winks and suddenly life feels back on track.

“Friends.” He’s still smiling and she’s pretty sure it could power the entire city of Boston. “Later, Swan.”

She smiles back and it’s real and she realizes she’s happy. “Friends.”

Really happy. They’re going to Maine this weekend free from awkwardness and the kiss she’s pretending she regrets and they’re friends— they can definitely do friends.

#Captain Swan #cs ff #cs modern au #killian jones #emma swan #worth fighting for #capthamm

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caitlinsfandomthoughts · 4 years ago

Text

A film fan’s reaction to reading The Lord of the Rings for the first time.

I’ve been a big fan of the Peter Jackson films (extended versions - nerd that I am) since I was about 11 and I think I know all of the big changes made in the adaptation: Arwen, Faramir, Aragorn falling off a cliff. I did read the first book around the same age (in the first of many waves of my lotr obsession) but I only really remembered Saruman of ‘Many Colours’.

However I have always wanted to properly know the book version of the story so finally started listening to an amazing full audio book reading by Steven Red Fox Garnett which I highly recommend:

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCwLvFU2onc7cPIEBee-_xMw

………………………………………………………………………………….

And here are my silly reactions and occasional analysis of the differences between book and film that I didn’t know about.

The Fellowship of the Ring part five, one, two, three, four, six

Lothlorien:

I really miss the film Aragorn-Boromir interaction in the aftermath of Gandalf’s death. Where the hobbits are in shock/grief and Aragorn rouses them to go. Boromir says ‘give them a moment for pity’s sake.’ Not only does it immediately set up the unstable power structure of the fellowship without Gandalf, to me it’s one of those really interesting conflicts where both sides are right. And as a leader it would be hard to make the right call. Obviously they can’t stay long, but Aragorn’s coldness isn’t the best for morale. I also like that it is the reverse of what you might initially expect for both characters. Boromir argues for compassion while Aragorn for practicality, and yet it works to add complexity to both. I think Aragorn is probably right, as he usually is, but it’s not like Boromir doesn’t have a point. He actually has more experience with leading large groups in a somewhat kingly manner than Aragorn does, and Aragorn can learn something from that. It can seem like Aragorn is shirking some part of his leadership responsibilities, like an emotional openness, or maybe just communication. It feels like Aragorn is leading in a bit too introverted way at the beginning, or in a way that still shows his reluctance. Anyway it doesn’t have that scene.

What it does have is Boromir being the one who is most reluctant to go into Loth Lorien. He’s like I’ve heard some not so good stories of this place and Aragorn is like well your people have your facts wrong and then is like you’ll only find evil in here if you bring it with you, Aragorn is apparently the king of throwing shade at least.

Haldir! And Sam was the loud breather.

They want to make Gimli wear a blindfold into Lorien but NO ONE ELSE! Racist elves. I mean I know that’s the point but whoa.

Gollum has been following them since like, the Shire, which is a long time to wait. I like the mention of Sting not glowing even though Frodo can hear he is near, nice way to say he’s not an orc, not truly evil. It is one of the few things I really liked in the Hobbit films, the use of this visual symbolism to morally complicate things when you meet him. (Poor orcs it seems you can kill without moral consequences).

Gimli is understandably not ok with the blindfold situation, I support him. Aragorn suggests they should all wear them, I like this, it’s probably the most egalitarian solution they could do, given how much they needed their help. Good Aragorn move. I think message-wise Boromir being the one who is most resistant to Lorien rather than Gimli is better. While there has been some both sideyness in the Elve/Dwarf racism, here at least the fault seems to be more with the elves, which is a more realistic depiction of racism than it being equal fault on both sides. Although perhaps this is better referred to as xenophobia since there isn’t an active exploitation of one race by another here.

Haldir is not a jerk! Or less of one. He doesn’t believe in the blindfold policy but he is still enforcing it so…

Sam says that Lorien is ‘like being inside a song’ I keep saying Sam is musical. ’Frodo puts his hand on a tree and feels the ‘delight of the living tree itself’ rather than thinking about its uses when it’s dead. I’m here for the tree love.

Celeborn is like we shouldn’t have let the dwarf in and then Galadriel is like actually dwarfs are cool! And he’s like yeah you’re right I’m sorry. Galadriel directly calling out anti-dwarfism and then speaking to Gimli in his own tongue gives a stronger reason for him to be enamored by her than basically she was pretty.

I can’t believe I forgot Sam making a poem for Gandalf’s fireworks in the film! Given I’ve been going on about him being a songwriter.

The Mirror of Galadriel:

Frodo sees Gandalf the white aw :’( It gets to me sometimes that Frodo and Sam don’t get to know that Gandalf is alive until the task is done and everyone else (except Boromir) gets to in the second book.

It makes some more sense now as to why Galadriel says she will ‘diminish’ and why the rings tempts her since the one ring dominates the three and with it destroyed their power probably would also.

Galadriel says the ring has a ‘will to dominate’ or something like that, she says Frodo can’t see the three rings through the one because he hasn’t tried, and that if he did it would destroy him. I may not have got that exactly right but it seems like Gandalf et al in Rivendell were saying hobbits can’t use the power of the ring only wizards and elves could. But Galadriel is like no it’s only because you haven’t tried. But also don’t try cause, you know, it’s evil and all (but that goes for everyone).

Sam did you not see the scary immortal lady lit with a power of her own screaming ‘ALL SHALL LOVE ME AND DESPAIR’? No it would not be good for her to take it!

Farewell to Lorien:

Finally the Aragorn doubt that I have been waiting for! Although he’s only really unsure about going to Minas Tirith or not cause Gandalf fell and now he has to take on his role and he’s like well he didn’t tell me what to do so… But still I’ll take Aragorn unsure which way to go and using the river to procrastinate as symbolic of his uncertainty of his own destiny as king, I’ll take it. I am missing another Aragorn-Boromir convo from the film. The one where Boromir is all stressed and kind of tries to confide in Aragorn and ends up goes on about Minas Tirith oh it’s so wonderful oh it’s so beautiful, have you seen it Aragorn? ‘Have you ever been called home?’ and Aragorn is just like yeah I’ve seen it, cool story bro. There’s a 3rd bit of film dialogue before the death scene that I love and I wonder if there’ll be anything like that.

Boromir definitely doesn’t want to talk about his Galadriel vision. But it sure has made him weird.

Why did they guide them out of Lorien only to then stop them and give them gifts? I’m convinced Galadriel wanted to show off her awesome swan boat.

I guess Aragorn’s gift of a personalised scabbard is more meaning full than a random head cutting blade. But I’m still not cool with him already having the sword.

I am surprised at how many of the gifts were different in the film, I think this scene was only in the extended anyway. Sam wanting rope was built up for so long in the book that I was surprised that he got it in addition to his gift. I do like that Sam appreciated the rope though, it was still a nice payoff.

Gimli’s gift is the same though :) I haven’t read the Silmarillion, though I have read that some jerk-elf asked Galadriel for a hair from her head and she said no, and he didn’t get the message until asking another two times. So giving Gimli three hairs (when he only hesitantly asked for one) is a big fuck you to that jerk-elf. In fact Galadriel says that everyone should stop saying that Dwarves can’t be courteous or whatever. Gimli specifically says that it was her calling out Celeborn and defending dwarves that made him like her.

#lotr reaction #lotr book #lotr films #lotr audiobook #galadriel #sam is a born poet #jerk-elf #lothlorien #I stan boromir #mostly #gimli #all shall love me and despair #lotr #steven red fox garnett #lotr liveblog

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grimmbrookhq · 5 years ago

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THE SWAN PRINCESS ▶ COSETTE FOX ( COLLEGE STUDENT ● 21 ● DANIELLE ROSE RUSSELL ● TAKEN )

Cosette grew up a comfortable life. She loved her parents even though she new her dad was into some shady stuff and loved being an older sister. Her dad always called her his little princess even when she was getting a little too old to be “little” anymore.

She wasn’t the smartest kid around but she worked her butt off so she could go to college, getting a scholarship because of her performance in track and field, and get a degree in music. Her dream goal was to be a singer in some fancy lounge or even on broadway if she was lucky. Her parents supported her decision even if it wasn’t so grounded in reality.

During spring break, she went back home to visit her parents and her siblings. It all happened so fast, the bang of the door, the loud pop of gunshots in the air as the monopoly pieces her father and her were setting up scattered to the ground. He shoved her into the closet and the last words she ever heard from her father were, “Go to Grimmbrook and find Brandon. Be quiet. I love you.”

She didn’t know where that was but when she finally managed to pull her way out of the closet the only thing she could do was run. When she made it to the police station her feet were covered in blood, hers and her family members, sobbing as she shook with an overwhelming grief.

The only thing she has on her now is the locket her father gave her for her 16th birthday and her younger sister’s stuffed swan. She’s here to find Brandon who will hopefully keep her safe should the worst happen. And know her family, it might.

Basking in the light of the day isn’t so bad, but when the slivers of the moon come out and she tries to rock herself to sleep, the only thing she can hear are the loud bang, bang of bullets and the screams of her family as they get gunned down one by one. She’s not sure she’ll ever be okay again. Or even if she wants to.

CONNECTIONS ▶

ROWAN FOX: Uncle Brian has never been a doting one, but for as long as she has known his wife, Rowan, she has liked her. The two were never too close, after all she was already in High School when the two met, but Rowan was always pleasant and genuine. Cosette didn’t understand it when the woman vanished from their lives overnight, and she was shocked to run into her in Grimmbrook of all places. Now they have a lot of explaining to do, and much to catch up on.

CORDELIA DU PONT: Cosette has a lot of anger to work through since the traumatic event, and it leads her to make bad decisions. One of those bad decisions was shoplifting at Beanstalks. The cashier was about to call the police when Cordelia intervened, claiming that the two were shopping together and of course she would pay for that. Once outside, Cosette told her she didn’t need her help, but Cordelia merely introduced herself and told her that if she needed help, she could find her at the Grimmbrook Memorial. Cosette still doesn’t know what to make of that.

MAGGIE YAO: It was a chance encounter when Cosette was walking home from class late one night and Maggie was locking up the gym. One that may have saved her a lot of trouble. Some upperclassmen were following her, catcalling and giving her a hard time. Maggie saw what was happening and stepped in just as one of them tried to grab Cosette. The next thing they knew, the guy was on the ground with a broken wrist and Cosette was being shepherded away. Since then, she's found herself drawn to steady presence Maggie gives off, looking up to the woman. She also recognizes something haunted in the other, that she feels in herself. And, for some reason, that makes her trust Maggie even more.

WESLEY CHURCH: She doesn’t know very many people in Grimmbrook and Cosette suspects that’s exactly why her father sent her there, because there wouldn’t be no one coming after her in such a town. The moment she laid eyes on Wesley, however, she recognized him. Cosette once saw him in her father’s office, just before the man closed the door. He may look a little older now, but she remembers that face looking at her with concern until it disappeared behind the office door, and she can’t help but wonder if he has something to do with what happened to her family, or if he knows anything about that at all.

ALEXANDER YAO: Cosette hates that she had to transfer into Grimmbrook University, but at least people seem to be nice there. She was very nervous on her first day, but Mr. Yao took the time to show her around campus and that made her feel a lot more confident, at least about finding her classes. She can always count on him to answer questions about anything GU related, and maybe even Grimmbrook in general.

#horror rp #crime rp #mystery rp #lit rp #danielle rose russell #cosette fox #grimm.original #death tw #murder tw #violence tw #rowan #cordelia #maggie #wesley #alexander

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loretranscripts · 5 years ago

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Lore Episode 25: The Cave (Transcript) - 11th January 2016

tw: body horror, cults, death, kidnapping

Disclaimer: This transcript is entirely non-profit and fan-made. All credit for this content goes to Aaron Mahnke, creator of Lore podcast. It is by a fan, for fans, and meant to make the content of the podcast more accessible to all. Also, there may be mistakes, despite rigorous re-reading on my part. Feel free to point them out, but please be nice!

During his historic journey aboard the HMS Beagle, Charles Darwin spent over a month on an island off the coast of Chile known as Chiloé. It wasn’t his final destination, but he still managed to work and collect information and specimens, including a small, endangered fox known now as “Darwin’s zorro”. He also witnessed the after effects of an earthquake and made note of a rainbow that transitioned from the typical semi-circle to a full circle, right before his eyes - but it was the people he encountered that seemed to impact him most. He later wrote: “They are a humble, quiet, industrious set of men. Although with plenty to eat, the people are very poor, and the lower orders cannot scrape together money sufficient to purchase even the smallest luxuries”. He also noted seeing a pair of black-necked swans, but thankfully Darwin didn’t have the same view of birds that the local people did, and still do, actually. One local historian recalls how, when he was a boy, a hunch-backed heron flew low over his fishing boat. When he told his father, the older man grabbed his shotgun and waited for the bird to return. Why? Because for as long as anyone could remember, the people of Chiloé have believed that some birds are more than they appear. Some people, it seems, believe they are warlocks. Seeing one was a bad omen, hinting that someone close to you would die. All of us are ruled by authority to some degree, whether it’s through our government, our religion or our family ties. Often, it’s all three. But there’s another governing body, one that’s as old as time itself, and on Chiloé, it controlled people for centuries. Sometimes, you see, people are ruled by fear. I’m Aaron Mahnke, and this is Lore.

The Incas called it “The Place of the Seagulls”. They stayed away from the area, believing it was the border between their empire of prosperity and safety, and the cold, dark wilderness to the south. Chiloé isn’t a large island, perhaps less than 100 miles from north to south, but it’s certainly the largest in the collection of small islands there off the coast of Chile, and to visit it is to go back in time: green hills, mountains in the distance, dark waves of the south Pacific lapping on the shore where colourful houses are built on stilts to stay above the mud and the rocks. Darwin described it as beautiful in 1835. He wrote of the mixture of evergreen trees and tropical vegetation, with the rolling hills and thick forest – and all that green, Darwin postulated, was due to the enormous amount of rainfall. Grey skies and wet soil are a constant of life in Chiloé, then as it is now, and while most people have never heard of the place, the unique churches there have an architectural style that’s earned them classification as UNESCO World Heritage Sites. There are churches, of course, because Jesuit missionaries built them shortly after arriving at the beginning of the 17th century. But don’t let these European artefacts fool you; the culture the Jesuits encountered when they arrived was far outside their realm of experience. The Chiloé of old was home to a vast collection of myths and legends that informed almost every aspect of life, and because much of the economy and culture of the island was built around the fishing industry just as it is today, many of those stories have elements of the sea in them. One example is the legend of the ghost ship known as the Caleuche. According to the stories, the Caleuche patrols the waters off the coast of the island, moving both above the water and below. The ship itself is a sentient being and has the ability to sense when someone from the island has drowned. After they die, these people are brought onto the ship by two sisters and their brother, where their new life can begin. That life consisted of both an eternal party aboard the ship, as well as working as sailors in the transport and unloading of illegal cargo for the island’s merchants. Even today, there are many in Chiloé who claim to have seen the ship, still patrolling the cold waters offshore.

There are other legends that haunt the island as well. Stories speak of the Trauco, a sort of forest troll or little person who lives in hollow trees, deep in the forest. Their task is to protect the trees, but they have also become a convenient scapegoat for unwed mothers. The Trauco, so they say, is irresistible to virgins who wonder into the forest, and those women frequently return home pregnant. La Pincoya is said to be a woman who appears to fishermen along the coast. She is described as young and beautiful, but her hair is covered in wet kelp, and the locals consider her to be an omen, although the outcome depends on the circumstances. If she appears facing the sea, your fishing nets will overflow; if she’s facing you, though, those nets will be empty; and in the rare instances when she appears right in front of a person, legend says it is best to close your eyes and run as fast as you can, lest she seduce you and lead you down into the sea. And one more legend is that of the basilisk, a creature that appears elsewhere around the globe. In Chiloé, though, the basilisk is more than just an enormous snake. Here, it also has the head of a rooster, and hatches from an egg. Some stories tell of how the basilisk will nest beneath a person’s house. During the night, it will slither out and suck the air from the lungs of the people sleeping inside. For as frightening as some of these creatures and stories might be, though, none of them compare to the legends of the Brujo de Chiloé – the warlocks of the island. They have struck fear into the hearts of the locals for centuries. They have shaped many aspects of their culture. They have been blamed for tragedy, for loss, and even for illness and death. Most frightening of all is the simple fact that, unlike all the other legends found on the island, the Brujo were real.

We know the Brujo were real because they were brought to trial in 1880. Almost overnight, what was once little more than a whispered legend - as sort of Chilean bogeyman, if you will – took on flesh and bone, and what the investigation uncovered was truly shocking. Let’s step back, though. It’s important to understand where the warlocks came from, and the short answer is that we don’t really know, but there are ideas, and many of them hold promise and truth. The most common theory is that something powerful was formed as a result of the collision between the indigenous culture and the Catholic faith of the Spanish when they first arrived. The ingredients for this new breed of legend had been there for a very, very long time, though. On one side, we have the machi – these were the traditional shaman of the Chilean culture, the healers, the wise people. Their realm was that of revelations, interpretations of dreams and serving as the oracle for their community. On the other side, there was the kalku – these were the practitioners of black magic, considered to be the witches and warlocks by most people. Unlike the machi, who sat at the centre of their society and were documented religious figures, the kalku were more mythical, spoken of in stories and whispered about at night. The kalku are described as machi gone bad, those who became more interested in selfish gain than serving the community. I know this will be a gross over-simplification, but think of the machi as the Jedi and the kalku as the Sith, the light side and the dark, and as Han Solo recently said, “It’s true. All of it.”

Enter the Spanish conquistadors. They arrived in 1567 and brought countless stories with them of European witches, but the culture in Chiloé has always been very male-driven, and so the idea of a female witch was converted to the male warlock in the public narrative. This melding of religions has actually happened in many countries across the centuries, where the Catholic faith would meet ancient beliefs and rather than wipe it out, would blend with it, unintentionally becoming something new. And that’s how the Brujo were born… maybe. Some scholars make reference to a story from the 17th century of a Spaniard named José de Moraleda, who met them machi and wanted desperately to impress them. He challenged them to a magical duel, and after they brought in one of their best machi, Moraleda was defeated. As a prize, the Spaniard handed over to them a book of spells that he claimed had been gathered from around the world. It was with that book of spells, the legend says, that the Brujo built their cult. Some still refer to it by its original name – the Recta Provincia, “The Righteous Province” – and according to them, this secret group manipulated the culture on the island for two centuries. Initiation into the group was complex and drenched with the occult. The first step was to wash away any remnant of Christian baptism, and they did this by bathing in one of the local rivers for 15 nights in a row. Some of them were instructed to murder a relative or a close friend, and then, when all of that was completed, they had to run around the island naked while invoking the devil’s name. The Brujo maintained their power over the people of Chiloé through an odd mixture of supernatural rumour and mafia-like control. They would most commonly force local farmers to give them produce or money, but they were also known to bribe local authorities and even created a shadow government that ruled in the places where the Spanish didn’t reach, and rather than use violence or traditional weapons to enforce their policies, they used the threat of a curse. Ultimately, it was this game of blackmail and protection rackets that brought an end to their reign over the people of Chiloé, and so in 1880, over 100 members of the cult were arrested and interrogated. Many were released when they turned out to be nothing more than machi looking for nothing more than a community to belong to, but some were held for trial on the charge of murder. The darkest revelations from the trial, though, were never believed. The supernatural creatures, the book of spells, the secret, hidden cave where the cult maintained their seat of power – all of this was passed off as folklore and superstition. However, eye-witness testimony says otherwise.

The trials revealed many new details about the Brujo and their beliefs, practices and inner workings. Some almost sound like they were pulled right out of a children’s book, they’re so simple and benign, while others are downright chilling. For example, one of the men on trial in 1880 revealed that each warlock carried a pet lizard with him. This lizard, according to the man, would be tied to the warlock’s forehead and, because it was magical, of course, it gifted him with powers. These warlocks were even said to communicate and interact with the ghost sailors aboard the Caleuche, using seahorses as aquatic carrier pigeons to pass messages back and forth. Other stories spoke of how the warlocks recruited new spies for their sect. According to the legend, these warlocks would kidnap young women and would give them a special elixir to drink. Once ingested, these girls would vomit until their stomachs and intestines lay on the ground at their feet. Then, lightened of their load, they would transform into birds and do the bidding of their master. None of this, though, compares to what the Brujo were said to have kept in their cave. One of the men on trial in 1880, an elderly man named Mateo, claimed that in the 1860s, he had been asked to visit the cave to feed the creatures kept there, and although his testimony was rejected by the court as fantasy, some have been left wondering. The cave, it is said, was difficult to locate, and rightly so. It contained multiple magical items, including the books of spells the group had received from the Spaniard Moraleda, as well as a bowl that was said to show the future to those who looked into it, and because these were objects of power for the warlocks, they needed to be carefully guarded. The entrance was a door hidden beneath the grass and soil in a rocky canyon near the coast and, with it, a metal key. Mateo told the court that he opened the entrance to the cave only to find two creatures inside that nearly defied description. One was called the chivito, a humanoid creature that was briefly described as “goat-like” and walking on four legs, but it was the other thing in the cave that Mateo had no trouble describing because, at first glance, it appeared to be nothing more than a bearded man. This man, though, was deformed – not mildly or by birth, but intentionally and drastically. He was called the imbunche, and although the one that Mateo witnessed appeared to be old, he said that they typically began as infants.

Now, this next part isn’t for the faint of heart, but it’s necessary to understand the level of cruelty and barbarism that this cult practiced. According to writer Bruce Chatwin, who visited the island in 1975, the locals still maintain a good amount of folklore around the creation of the imbunche. The warlocks would kidnap a male, six-month-old child, Chatwin recorded, and then deliver it to the one known as “the deformer”, who lived inside the cave. This man’s job was to shape and disfigure the infant’s body. Its head would be twisted daily until, after many months, it faced backwards. Limbs and fingers would be disjointed, and even its ears and mouth would malformed by the deformer. The final characteristic, according to Chatwin, is the right arm. It would be bent backwards and the hand slipped in to an incision made on the right shoulder blade, and the wound would be sewn up, leaving the arm permanently affixed to the child’s back. Why this was done is something that history has forgotten over the years, but the impact is just as powerful today. Left to guard and inhabit the secret cave of the warlocks, the imbunche was seen less as an act of torture and more as the creation of an essential part of the cult’s society. When one imbunche died, another would be created to take its place. This is the level of darkness these real-life warlocks were capable of, this is what powered the fear they used to enslave and control the people of the island, and this is what many of them confessed to on the stand, that spring in 1880. As a result, many of the accused were sentenced to long prison terms. These were men who had killed, who had cursed neighbours and blackmailed businesses for protection money, and yet the courts couldn’t make their rulings stick. Just one year later, nearly all the warlocks were released. The reason? It was impossible to prove they had belonged to a secret society of black magic, as horrible as the stories had sounded. No one, they thought, could be that evil.

In a world where authority often falls to those with the most wealth, the most weapons or the most connections, it’s unusual to find cases where some other power allows people to rule. But if the story of Chiloé teaches us anything, it’s that fear can be just as powerful as any government official - fear of death, fear of poverty, fear of the unknown. Those who called themselves part of the Brujo in 1880 were card-carrying members of a cult that wielded fear like a weapon. Thankfully, the trial helped to put real faces to the shadows that had plagued the people of Chiloé for centuries. Whether or not they received punishment for their crimes was secondary – the warlocks had been exposed, shattering their illusion of fear. But while many saw the trial as the end of that nightmare, there are some who aren’t so sure. In 2006, the local court there in Chiloé issued a restraining order against Manuel Cardeneus and his brother-in-law. Due to a physical altercation they had had with the 66-year-old farmer named José Marquez, they were prohibited from coming within 10 meters of the old man. When asked why he attacked the farmer, Cardeneus said it was because of an illness his father had been suffering through. Pain had become a constant part of the man’s life, and it had gone on long enough. Cardeneus claimed that his father’s illness had begun after an encounter with Marquez all the way back in 1992. The pain hadn’t stopped since then, and after consulting with a local shaman, they were told why. According to the machi¸ the farmer had cursed their father with black magic, which begs the question: did the trial of 1880 really wipe out the cult of the warlocks, or did some of them slip through the government’s net, living on to spread and grow their sect into the 20th century and beyond? After all, neither the cave nor its occupants were ever found.

[Closing Statements]

#lore podcast #aaron mahnke #podcast transcripts #folklore #cults #dark history #chile #south america #25

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kurtty-drabbles · 6 years ago

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Swan au (the fox final part)

@djinmer4 @dannybagpipesarecalling @discordsworld @look-ma-no-hands336 @sailorstar9

N/A: this is arc is peaking to the climax.

Brian is a man of good, is a leader and knows how to do his duty as the best a good leader, however, as Excalibur is facing the Necromancer once again. No one is happy to see each other, yet, Loki is a threat that can unity them if for a brief moment.

“And why I should make an alliance with you?” Kurt´s barbed tone is showing his arrogance or confidence in the situation, yet, Brian knows his malice is direct to Rachel, the Necromancer is prone to jealousy and can´t forget that Rachel and Kitty do, occasionally, hang out.

Kitty watches the scenes and can´t figure it out the animosity direct to each other in the room. Kitty holds Kurt´s hand and speaks calmly, not minding he's the powerful Necromancer.

“Kurt, please, look at me” his golden eyes gaze into her brown eyes “Kurt, Loki is not powerful, he´s dangerous and sneaky, Loki does play fair” Kitty warns him and Kurt ponders this for a moment and says “me neither, if the son of bitch can attack my daughter, I´ll fight hard”

“Vision already healed Princess Talia” Rachel speaks, maybe, deep down, wanting to ruin his mood. Brian was sure Kurt would have a fist of jealousy, yet, Kurt seems relieved. Yes, Brian and Rachel may not be romantic at heart, but, there´s no love triangle going on. Kurt Wagner can love Kitty Pryde after all.

“Either way, he dares to attack Talia, I won´t let that slide, now, for the so-called alliance…” Kurt smiles devious and Brian and Rachel aren´t so assured by such smile. In the end, it was Kitty who assured a tentative and terse alliance for a small moment.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

The alliance, if that´s the right word for this group, is fragile at best. Wanda and Vision may pretend Kurt is not there, but Illyana and Kurt are gazing at each other as predators ready to kill each other. The X-men and Excalibur are the only ones with good story among them. Kitty is grateful she has a friend with Rachel and Meggan as Kurt is in the mode to kill.

“Do we have a plan?” Kitty asked not wanting to sound petulant as today this is not a regular mission as rescue little ducks(why no one believes those birds are the spawn of the devil?)

“Yes, as matter of fact, we do” Meggan states proudly “Loki´s giant frost is going to attack Genosha, however, they are icy creatures the weather is not adequate for them and the spell is not strong enough to keep their bodies”

“But is 30 giant frost,” Kitty asked nothing how this could work, no one is paying attention at Yana and Kurt ready to murder each other. Kitty will stay with Excalibur to help the citizen to evacuate, as Kurt and the other mages will fight Loki on even ground.

Kitty is not happy with this, she wants to kill Loki herself, however, Kurt, shocking everyone, didn´t let Kitty go to the battle and think is a far better idea to stay with Excalibur“I won´t lose you” Kurt gently touches her face. And Excalibur has the evidence (once again) that Kurt really loves this woman.

Loki sends the giants to the border of Xanax and Genosha, however, his giants are destroying an empty city. There´s no one, until the first giant melt, thanks to Rachel Grey.

Kitty make a shield protecting the last remain group of civilians(sadly, they couldn´t take everyone in time) as Captain Britain punch the giant, his aim is the magical eye, as Meggan explained, those creatures are powerless without the eye, just take the eye and the battle is over. Meggan is proving correct as the giant falls.

Kitty and Rachel are taking the last group to the safe place, Kitty and Rachel improvise in such a short time, to make this magic safe house. “Kitty, is this the last group?” Rachel asked her mind is not focusing enough to see for herself. “I don´t know, let´s search again, no casualties if we can avoid” Rachel nods.

Meggan and Brian are dealing with the giants.

Wanda, Vision, Magik and Kurt are dealing with Loki and the man has a mad smile on his face(Kurt feels insulted as this appear to be a weak version of his own smile) Magik summon spells only Belasco could have taught (Kurt notes that for later) and, Kurt has to admit, is impressive, no wonder people sing her name, however, the spell did nothing to stop Loki.

“Little girl shouldn´t be on the battlefield” Loki send a magic blast to Yana that makes the blonde fly away, Wanda is impressed and enrage. Loki chuckles. “Hello, Wanda, thank you for bringing me your husband to me, I need the soul stone” Lokie tries to grab, but, Vision phases and using one of his spells, starts to mess with Loki´s molecules.

Wanda holds Vision´s hand as Kurt look at the deformed Loki who only laughs like an insane person and quickly is back to his normal phase, Wanda is using a spell to change reality, one where Loki is never born, but, nothing happens.

Kurt is attacking with his necromancy, yet, failing. Yana is back again and is using her sword, now the 4 mages are attacking Loki together(arrogance or naivety makes them think one of them could take Loki down) and even with thr 4 of them is no use.

______________________________________________________________________________________

Meggan and Brian defeat the last giant and now can see the big battle, and a look of worry is shared with the couple, is Loki really that strong. Kitty and Rachel inform no civilian or small mage was hit during the battle, in fact, now the giants are melting, the city has no real damage, aside from snow and water.

“Are they still fighting?” Rachel asked recalling that her father often mentions how Loki is not a big deal.

Kitty stands her arm as raven land softly on. The raven then whispers something in her ear and Kitty´s eyes widen. “Thank you, Raven” and looks at the others members of Excalibur, unsure for a moment, then, decides to risk anyway.

“Guys, I need help...I think I know how to defeat Loki” Kitty speaks and the others are lsitening.

____________________________________________________________-___________________________

Loki prove to be more powerful than all of them, even more than Kurt, as Wanda is defeat and in the floor feeling pain and Vision is bleeding. Loki is smiling like a lunatic. The man put wards around the battlefield as no one would interupts them.

“Well, we can´t have everything” Loki speaks looking at Kitty Pryde in the field, Kurt is badly hurt and is shouting to Kitty to get out. “Don´t worry, I´m fine, this is no big, he´s not a big deal” she replied to Kurt, offering a smile.

It was Rachel who opens the ward letting Kitty enter. Loki is not paying Rachel or Kitty any mind, not even the birds flying close to him.

“You dumb swan, I´m the most powerful god now, what´s a dumb swan-like you can do against a god?” his words ring with a megalomaniac and didn't notice the raven now leaving, nor what it has in her mouth. The said Raven is now on Kitty´s shoulder as deliver the medallion to Kitty and only now Loki notices what he lost.

Now his arrogance is gone. She can´t use the medallion, only magic people can. Loki thought to try to save his own face. His horror only grows as Kitty puts the medallion and with her eyes glowing(and ignoring the pain), she only speaks “you know, this is more impressive than your dumb tricks” Kitty replied smiling as Loki is stepping back.

Kitty punch him breaking all the illusions he puts on himself, in fact, the punch hits all it has Loki´s essence(she does not feel bad for Kid Loki) as she beats up again, again and again. Finally reduce adult Loki, to a small child.

A part of her wants to kill Loki, a payment to the scar she will wear for the rest of her life, however, she shoots lighting bold to the sky. And looks at Loki serious, in one minute Thor the God of Thunder shows up not needing to be brief to know what happened. He only stares sadly at his brother.

“Thor, god of thunder” Kitty speaks unphased by the god himself, “ I ask you to retrieve your brother and make sure the one called Loki won´t ever return, make an Asgardian's promise and if you break shall Odin die 100 times”

Thor nods “I shall promise that my little brother won´t ever put his feet here” and grabs Loki as is a potato sack, however, before the two could go.

“Wait,” she speaks emerging power in raw form, and making sure to ignore the amount of pain “Asgard own me for not kill him”

Thor is serious for a moment and nods. “Thank you for not have killed my brother” and with that exchange, Thor is gone and Kitty passes out. Her Raven friend takes the medallion discretely.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Kitty opens her eyes to see herself in a hospital and with few bandages on her forearm, and a few on her legs, she whines in pain as Kitty slowly rise from the bed and look around, where is she?

“You wake up,” Kurt asked now entering in the medical bay of Genosha(the Royal symbol gives away) and she notices other mages there as well. “How are you?”

“Tired and in pain, but fine” Kitty replied.

“Katzchen, what you did back then…” Kurt states gazing into her eyes “Was awesome! and when we arrive home you will tell me how you did that” Kitty bites her lips as Kurt seems to know her trick. “But that´s not important, just rest, you were passed out for 2 days, Excalibur was impressed, hell, everyone was impressed”

“Kurt, they shouldn´t be impressed, Loki is a whinny bitch” Kitty explained and notices the flowers, the first was from Excalibur, and the second was from The royal family, the third was from Princess Yana and the last is from Kurt.”Wait, 2 days?! Holy fuck”

“Yeah, Katzchen, Holy fuck”

#swan au #kurtty #wanda/vision #excalibur #Illyana Rasputin #kitty pryde #kurt wagner #evil wizard Kurt #I love Meggan/Brian #Loki #Thor #the ark is over #Holy fuck is over #how will Kitty explain this?#the other can believe she had a surge of power #not kurt #and she knows he is evil #well i´ll think #now Yana vs Kurt

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canonicallyanxious · 7 years ago

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this 30 question thing?? and i have to tag 20 people lol in what universe do i have that many friends

Thanks to @evensdramaticshenanigans for tagging me! <33

nickname: don’t really... have one anymore? Just call me Sarah i suppose gender: i’m a girl i guess idk i’m not that committed star sign: gemini! height: five feet on the dot as my wonderful friends who’ve never even met me in real life so love to remind me on the daily :’] birthday: May 29th favourite bands: fuck me idk what i listen to anymore um two door cinema club, twenty one pilots, misterwives, grizzly bear, the xx, glass animals, local natives, wildcat! wildcat!, saint motel, recently got into little green cars as well, basically just a shitton of white indie rock lol [though grizzly bear and the xx are gay culture so Jot That Down] favourite solo artist: Sufjan Stevens until i die [literally play seven swans at my funeral i’m not even joking]!!! also hayley kiyoko, mirah, laura veirs, brooke waggoner, and kid cudi song stuck in my head: dusk til dawn by ZAYN/Sia, it’s such a jam??? BABY I’LL BE THEEEEEEEEEREREREREREREREEEEEEEE last movie i watched: i think it was this movie called fairhaven about a kid who gets sent to gay conversion therapy [yikes......] and when he comes back he has to navigate his relationship with his old boyfriend which, like, i was kinda dubious about, but i gave it a shot because people said there was a happy ending and the trailer looked good?? turns out they put almost all the good footage in the trailer and there’s maybe like two minutes of the entire movie i actually liked LOL the acting was good but idk the writing was... eh? also i hated how long the conversion therapy scenes were i had to skip over those because i just couldn’t do it so basically i would not recommend it unless you can find the two good minutes of the movie [which to be fair were REALLY FUCKING GOOD i mean my queer ass is absurdly weak for sleepy morning cuddles idk what you want from me] last show watched: haven’t really had the time or emotional/mental capacity for proper tv show watching lately but i did start watching this webseries called Barbelle [it totally counts] which is about lesbian pop stars and honestly what more of a pitch could you need go watch it right now when did i start this blog: i wanna say i made it late 2010 and started using it mid 2011 but like what are dates, time is a construct, IDK what do i post: idk lol. i guess you’d call this clusterfuck a multi-fandom blog?? right now there’s a lot of skam, check please, brooklyn 99, the get down, various other gay shit, the usual Other blogs: I'm a tiny bit obsessed with sideblogs oops. let’s see what are the ones i actually want linked out there... so i’ve got an aesthetic blog, a collab blog i run with my writing partner in crime and spouse @boxesfullofthoughts, a SKAM fic rec blog i co-run with a bunch of other people now lol, a review blog i run with lyds and @pronouncingitwang we don’t really post on anymore but w/e it exists, and more private blogs than i care to admit do i get asks: not that often nah average sleep: lol lucky number: 28 dream job: the DREAM dream job [like, top tier goals] is to write stories and live like a hermit but the “this might not be my ~most ideal scenario in the most perfect world~ career but i know i would be happy and fulfilled doing this” dream job is communications in public health [preferably at a nonprofit/ngo] food: noodles! last book i read: Clifford’s Blues, had to read it for class and i’d actually highly recommend it! It’s about a gay black jazz musician imprisoned in Dachau during the Holocaust and you can tell the writer really did his research. lots of interesting things done with style and form too. it’s quite heavy though so be warned what i’m wearing: an apollo/nasa shirt i got from the kennedy space center, jeans, socks my SO gave me, and my favorite flannel 8] favorite fandoms: my cynical bitter ass thinks all fandoms kinda suck on some level lol i’m sorry i’m such a rude fucker but i guess i’ll answer this with favorite fandom i’ve written for? in which case best and worst fandom simultaneously goes to SKAM, worst because the fic culture in this fandom was really stressful and rough on my mental health at times back when i was still actively writing [rip don’t ask me why i’m not writing now believe me i want to so badly but my life is a MESS] and i’m just in general not a huge fan of the level of entitlement and harassment i see leveled toward other writers [which of all the fandoms i’ve written for probably has to be the absolute ugliest] but also best because i’ve met some of my favorite people through writing for the fandom i would otherwise not have gotten to know, which makes up for 100% of the bullshit and then some. so... yeah sorry this is kinda not a very positive answer i just figured i’d be as honest as i could

i’m tagging: 20 people????????????? fuck that i’m just gonna tag like half of that, do it if you want but don’t feel pressured! @boxesfullofthoughts, @call-this-a-mask, @pronouncingitwang, @hotchocolatenthusiast, @fox-muldr, @rumpelsnorcack, @askybison, @minyardv, @of-flowers-and-sunshine, @thelibraryiscool

#sure i'll do a thing #i got wordy as fuck in this one yikes

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junker-town · 5 years ago

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How does canceling the NCAA tournament impact college athletics? We asked some experts

The poorer schools could be in for a major shock.

We’ve barely begun to scratch the surface on the countless ways the Covid-19 outbreak will impact higher education. It’s safe to assume that canceling the NCAA men’s basketball tournament, along with the entire spring sports schedule, affects more than just the athletes who won’t get a chance to complete their seasons.

The NCAA tournament is easily the biggest moneymaker of the entire year for the NCAA, and for most of the NCAA’s DI membership. What does canceling the tournament really mean? Does it impact every DI school the same way? To better understand, I reached out to Brett Albert, a faculty lecturer at the Isenberg School of Management at UMass Amherst, Dr. Anthony Weaver, an associate professor of sport management at Elon University, and Dr. Karen Weaver, an associate clinical professor of sport management at Drexel University.

First, there’s the question of much immediate revenue a school might lose by not having an NCAA tournament.

The NCAA shares some tournament revenue with DI conferences in “units”. The more teams a conference sends to the tournament, and the more games they win, the more units a conference earns, which means more money. A single unit is worth roughly $300,000 a year, paid out over six years.

A huge, Power Five program could weather some bad NCAA tournament luck without facing an existential threat to their athletic budget. According to Albert, “a Big Ten or a Big 12 team, they have the college football playoff revenue stream coming in, they have major broadcast contracts with Fox and ESPN and ABC ... they are diversified enough that they could take a hit, since the NCAA tournament is a relatively low percentage of most of their athletic budgets. But we get down to those mid majors and low majors, their exposure to financial risk grows.”

Anthony Weaver agreed: “Approximately $300,000 distributed annually over six years is about $1.8 million, and if you’re a basketball centric conference, where your reliance on this revenue is greater, losing out on that money is going to hit home a lot quicker.”

The specific timing for some leagues couldn’t have been worse. Dayton was primed to earn a 1 or 2 seed, which means that their conference, the A-10, could have earned three units, or more if Dayton made the deep NCAA run their seeding would have predicted. Those units could have been worth more than $6 million dollars over six years for the league, which would have been shares among league membership. The Mountain West, with Utah State earning an auto-bid and with San Diego State almost certain to have earned a No. 1 seed, could have earned even more. Now, they’ll get nothing.

Albert believes this is one reason why some school leaders were pushing the NCAA to release a bracket, even without a tournament. “Really, what they were trying to say is that, you know, the Big Ten by Joe Lunardi, his recent projection, was supposed to have 10 bids. So we should be paid out as if we had the 10 bids. And then taking the argument further, maybe on the A-10 side, they could point to, ‘Look Dayton was going to be a No. 1 seed, looking at historical probabilities, we should be paid out for multiple units.”

Some basketball-centric conferences, like the WCC and Big East, will still earn some revenue from media broadcast rights, but for the bulk of DI leagues that do not sponsor football, those revenues are middling, at best. For a league like the Patriot or America East, these units may be their best shot at a big payday.

But it isn’t just money these schools are missing

Without an NCAA tournament, there’s no chance a mid-major darling will capture the hearts of America, and thus their wallets, this March. There’s a documented phenomenon called the “Flutie Effect”, in which a school enjoys a boost in enrollment, applications and alumni engagement after unexpected athletic success. Programs like George Mason, Loyola-Chicago, VCU and Butler have recently benefited deep March runs that extend way beyond their athletic department balance sheets.

“So in this sense, it’s not just that these mid and low majors are losing out on a budgetary item this year,” Albert said. “You just see these kind of positive spillover effects all across the board for these schools. And no matter how the NCAA figures out their payment structure for this year, there’s no way of getting that without actually staging a tournament.”

How could schools make up this money?

The NCAA used to have a cash reserve fund that could have been used in this sort of situation, but it was mostly spent to offset the costs of attendance for member schools, and for NCAA legal fees. But theoretically, the NCAA could borrow money, perhaps against future NCAA tournament earnings, and pay out a bonus to schools this year. All three experts I spoke to said this possibility may be worth exploring.

Karen Weaver added that athletic departments may also look inward. “Colleges generally have the ability to create and make internal loans as well as usable prices, but sometimes they’re four percent interest, you know, and they tend to be generous with payback periods of time. But there’s no question that there will be an expectation that some movement will be made towards paying those internal loans back.”

Financial hardship may look different at different types of schools

There are lots of different kinds of universities among the mid- and low-major ranks of DI. You have regional public institutions, many of which serve a more commuter type of student. You have selective, small-enrollment private schools. You have HBCUs. You have a few private schools, like Grand Canyon and Liberty, with robust online enrollments. Some schools have big endowments, and others don’t. Interruptions in athletics funding can be more problematic for some than others.

Many schools were already facing stiff economic headwinds, as enrollments have been in decline throughout most of the country. Any school whose athletic budget is heavily funded by institutional subsidy could be more at risk if their athletic department revenues unexpectedly drop.

Could this massive shock force schools to revaluate how they fund college sports? Could some decide to reclassify, or drop out of DI?

Karen Weaver doesn’t think reclassification is on the table for most schools, but thinks thinks some of those deeper conversations about college athletics funding have already been going on, as schools wonder if they’re willing to make the facility investments needed to compete in athletics. “For so long, it was just, ‘Oh, we’re just gonna add a track program.’ And now, you wonder, are you willing to invest a million dollars in upgrading that track?”

Albert wasn’t sure if the economic hardship from tournament cancelations would force anybody out of college athletics, but added, “I think that this is a black swan event that opens your eyes to the entire vulnerability of the NCAA structure as a whole. When you wake up and you realize that basically your entire mode of funding your athletic department is fully reliant on transfer payments from the NCAA. In a moment like this, you realize just how vulnerable all of that is to any kind of disruption that you have no control over.”

Anthony Weaver also didn’t think the current situation would lead to a widespread reclassification movement. “Changing your classification level, whether you go up or down, that’s a major, major decision that’ll have an impact on your institution for a generation. I know it’s done, but schools usually don’t decide ‘I’m going DI’ and then change their mind. So my guess would be is that schools probably wouldn’t make that type of decision unless they feel like over a 10- to 20-year period or longer, obviously, that this just isn’t gonna work.”

But, he added, that would also depend on what is happening to the university at large. If economic forces weaken the rest of the university, there’s no question it could force athletic changes as well.

“You hear all the time about how college athletics are the front porch for a school,” Weaver said. “Well, if you’re using athletics to tell your story, and you go back to this house analogy and it has a really nice front porch, but the rest of your houses is just damaged and the foundation is awful, and there’s nothing there. It doesn’t matter how nice the front porch is.

“Nobody is buying that house. College athletics can get students to look at the school, but it’s really other institutional benefits that get students to commit.”

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kyutoryu · 7 years ago

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Swan Song’s Heist [zolu week]

Fandom: One PIece

Pairing: Zoro/Luffy

Rating: T

Summary: The masquerade is the site of both robbery and a murder mystery, but Zoro finds the real crime is Nami meddling in his love life.

extra: ME AND @asexualzoro wrote this for free space day for zolu week! we tried to fit like. every prompt in this so YEAH

[FF.NET LINK] [AO3 LINK]

or just click that read more

"Listen up, everyone. I want to go over the plan one more time. Everyone at this party is rich, so there's a lot to gain. I don't want to mess this up," Nami says. She looks in the rear view mirror at her friends in the back of the car to make sure they're paying attention. A sharp glare towards Usopp and Luffy, who are busy shoving at each other's faces, makes them both freeze up and direct their gazes toward her. Satisfied, she looks back at the road in front, "I'll be doing all the robbing. I've been posing as a maid here over the past week, so no one will suspect me moving around. Even so, these are nobles, they’ve always been paranoid, so all of you need to be my distraction so no one notices what I'm doing. I want this to work, okay?" Nami glances in the rear view mirror again, then taps the fox-themed mask on her face, "Remember not to remove your masks once we enter. This is a masquerade, and the police have been plastering our faces on every news channel for weeks. Stick to your characters, too, and try not to call each other by name. You all remember your characters?"

"Nami, I wanna wear the hero mask," Luffy complains loudly, ignoring her, "why does Usopp get it? Let me!"

"Your mask is fine, Luffy. I picked it out, special." Nami says, "Usopp's mask has a big hole in it for his nose, anyway. You don't want it."

"And a dragon is cool!" Usopp grabs Luffy's draconic mask by the corners, then snaps it against his face. The little red scales decorating the mask shine in the light of streetlamps that pass by their cars as he does, the design of it poking into his cheeks a bit. Its angular shape to match the shape of a dragon’s face doesn’t necessarily feel nice against his skin, especially not when snapped back on. Luffy shoves at Usopp’s hands, ready to start something in defiance.

"Okay, roles," Nami repeats loudly, stopping that before it started. Snapping her fingers, She continues, "This is a huge job for us! I don't want to fuck it up and I've already got Vivi covering for us back at home. So, I'm a maid, and Robin is..."

"A detective," Robin finishes smoothly, sitting in the back of the large van. It's the only thing that can somewhat fit their group, "A private one; to be specific. That's just if anyone asks."

"I'm a construction worker," Franky says, though it's unlikely anyone will ask him, as he won't be in the ballroom. In the seat next to him, Chopper speaks up.

"I'm a doctor! Or at least, learning to be one," Chopper says, “Which...isn’t that far off from the truth.”

"I'm a... what am I again?" Usopp blinks, confused, "besides a totally badass hero?"

"I'm a cook," Sanji interjects, "But that's not any different. Tonight I shall woo all the ladies of the party as a distraction for my lovely Nami!"

He grins, squished in the seat with Usopp and Luffy. Zoro in the front passenger seat spares Nami a glance, to which she just shrugs.

"Brook's working as a musician, so he's already at the party," Nami explains. The mansion, large and impressive even in the dark, comes into view. Nami pulls up a long driveway, and after she parks she turns to face Zoro and Luffy, "Luffy and Zoro, you two need to be ready to cover our retreat in case things go south so we can get out alright. Don't break character."

"What's our character again?" Luffy says, messing with his mask. He and Nami are the only ones already wearing theirs, as most everyone else had left theirs off in their laps for the ride over.

"Newlyweds," Zoro answers, staring at the fake ring on his finger, "Me and you are newlyweds, Luffy."

"Oh, right," Luffy says, looking at his own ring. The diamonds are plastic, Nami didn't want to spend much on their disguises. Hopefully no one will look to hard at them.

"Zoro, Luffy, don't leave each other's sides. You need to stick together in case something happens," Nami says, "Zoro, you also need to make sure Luffy doesn't cause any trouble that would jeopardize the plan. And be convincing! You're supposed to be soulmates, act like you love each other!"

Zoro frowns. Goddamn Nami, setting them to this role as to 'push things along.' How could this push anything along? Sure, he's got something bad for Luffy, but he doesn't need help and he doesn't need it like this!

"I'm gonna stick to the food bar," Luffy grins, unaware of Zoro's thoughts, "That'll be easy, right?"

"We're just there to mill around while Nami steals shit," Zoro shrugs, twisting the ring absently. How the hell is he supposed to make this convincing?

"Yeah, so don't mess it up. If Luffy sticks to the food bar, you'd better stick to him. Just enjoy the party, you two," Nami says, "The rest of you know the distraction plan already, so if there aren't any more questions, we can head inside. If this works out, we're going to be rich!"

They pile out of the car, filtering inside. Zoro puts on his mask, waiting for Luffy to come to him. Since he has to be married to Luffy for the night, he may as well walk in with Luffy.

Everyone at the party is dressed to the nines, and the crew is no exception. The party is a fantasy-themed masquerade, hosted by and for elites. The wealthy and the noble fill the ballroom, as do their security guards. This makes it an operation of high risk and, if successful, high reward.

"So me and Zoro are married," Luffy says as they approach the front door, "That's kinda weird!"

"I don't know where she comes up with this stuff," Zoro says as he holds out his arm for Luffy to take, "If we're going to be married, you should hold onto me. Couples hold hands and shit, right?"

"Sure!" Luffy grabs onto Zoro's arm, "I dunno, I've never been in a relationship!"

"Of course you have, we're married. You must've dated me at some point," Zoro says, grinning. He leads Luffy into the mansion by the arm.

The ballroom is lit up brightly, decorated heavily. People in fantastical masks mill around, barely paying any attention to those entering. Luffy smiles at the party aspect of it all, but the whole... stuck-up rich person, not-really-a-banquet vibe doesn't really get with him.

Zoro watches Luffy, letting his smiling faux-husband lead him to the food table. Luffy immediately releases Zoro's arm, instead grabbing a plate to start piling it high with food. Zoro continues to watch Luffy as he grabs food upon food to eat. Zoro turns away briefly, awkward. Is this where they starts acting like they're married?

"Slow down, uh... honey. Don't want to grab more than you can eat," Zoro says.

"...Honey?" Luffy snickers, barely holding back full blown laughter.

"We're in love. I'm acting like it," Zoro mutters, grabbing his own plate, "You know, pet names."

"Okay Zoro, Whatever you say," Luffy continues to huff a bit of laughter under his breath as he grabs more food.

"If you dislike the pet names, I'll drop them," Zoro says.

"Hmm..." Luffy hums, shoving an appetizer into his mouth, "Nah, we're married. So it's ok," He grins.

"Alright, but if you're going to laugh every time, I’m stopping," Zoro says. It isn't much of a threat, though, as Luffy seems indifferent to them and they just embarrass Zoro.

"I won't!" Luffy takes his plate and stands against the wall, Zoro following, "How long is Nami gonna take?"

"I don't know. Probably a while," Zoro says, "We'll probably be here a few hours, so just relax."

"Boring," Luffy pokes at his food, looking at Zoro now. "Zoro's got a cool mask, but I'm cooler. I'm a dragon."

"What, demons aren't cool?" Zoro asks, "Demons are way cooler. If a demon and a dragon fought, I bet the demon would win."

"Nah, dragons are cooler and much stronger, so there’s no way they’d lose," Luffy taps on his mask, feeling the fake scales, "I'm a dragon."

"You sure are," Zoro says, reaching up a bit to rest an arm on top of Luffy’s head, "Smallest dragon I've ever seen. Aren’t they supposed to tower over their enemies?”

"Dragons bite," Luffy warns, "Zoro's demon mask is pretty nice, though. He's got horns."

Zoro grins, turning his head to show off. The horns are long and black, and though they're heavy, they're impressive enough that it's worth it.

"Pretty damn cool, right?" Zoro asks. Luffy reaches up, tugging on the horn.

"Nami said I couldn't have anything like these, I'd break 'em," Luffy says.

"You do break a lot of stuff," Zoro says.

"It's fine." Luffy dumps the food into his mouth, going back for more. Zoro watches Luffy go from the wall, awaiting his return. He’s not sure if Luffy feels this, but conversation with him feels so much more awkward now that they’re pretending to be a couple. Conversations used to move so smoothly with Luffy, but now everything he’s saying feels… forced. Zoro picks at his suit jacket, wondering if pretending to date will hurt their relationship more than it helps.

The lapse of silence that follows as Luffy eats and Zoro struggles to find a topic to talk about is interrupted by a very triumphant tone cutting into all other conversations, stopping nobles dancing and people mingling alike.

"I'm a world-renowned sharpshooter! So famous, they call me the King of Snipers!" Usopp says to the pink-haired man listening to him, loud enough to draw the attention of a few other attendants than just the one he's speaking to, "I could shoot a mouse's eye a hundred yards away! I could do it with my eyes closed, even! You'll never meet a sniper half as skilled as me!"

Usopp makes grand gestures as he speaks, keeping the attention of the small crowd he'd gathered with his words, spinning fantastical stories to impress his listeners. Whether or not they believe him, though, is a different matter entirely.

"Really?! A mouse's eye?!" Chopper exclaims, easily amused and happy to listen to Usopp's tales.

"Of course!" Usopp slams a fist on his chest with confidence, "Hell, I could kill it with a knife, fired straight from my slingshot!"

"That's amazing!" Chopper cries, believing every word. Usopp seems to soak up the attention he gets for his story, though it's hard to tell given that his mask covers his whole face. He continues entertaining those who are close enough to hear in stories of his past feats, all heavily exaggerated.

Luffy stands next to Zoro, eating absently as they watch the crowds mingle and move. His attention is drawn back to the present as Zoro notices a girl eying him from across the room. She wears a heavily decorated mask and a very large blue dress which shimmers in the light. Soon she’s striding forth, coming across the way to talk.

"Hello," She curtsies upon walking up to him, smiling. "Are you enjoying the party?"

It's clear she's only talking to Zoro.

"I'm having fun," Zoro says, nodding. She's probably around his age, and by her jewelry, definitely rich. With her obvious money and elaborate dress, she may as well be royalty. Zoro stares at her a moment, recognizing her to be Shalulia. She's the daughter of Roswald, an incredibly rich nobleman and the host of the party.

"It's quite the night, isn't it?” Shalulia says, looking around, "Your mask is very... intricate."

Luffy pauses from his motions of shoving food into his face next to Zoro, staring at Shalulia.

"One hell of a mask for one hell of a party," Zoro says, "But yours is just as intricate as mine."

"Mine, too," Luffy butts in, getting closer to Zoro. He gets a bad feeling from this girl. Shalulia barely regards Luffy, a passing glance before focusing on Zoro again.

"Can you guess what I am?" She asks, spinning around, "I had this custom made, you see. The mask, too!"

"You're a princess, right?" Zoro asks. He's pretty sure she's flirting with him, and he's not all that interested. He looks to Luffy, quickly taking Luffy's hand as he looks at Luffy's face, "What do you think, love?"

The pet names still feel alien in Zoro's mouth, but he wants to get his point across.

"I think she looks dumb," Luffy mutters, stepping closer to Zoro.

"I... sorry, what?" She looks at their linked hands. "Love?"

"Love," Zoro says. He brings their linked hands up, "This is my... husband."

"I'm the husband," Luffy says quickly, staring at her.

"Oh... you're..." Shalulia seems to flounder, pulling at her dress a bit, "You're married?"

"Yes, happily married," Zoro says, still watching Luffy. He lets go of Luffy's hand and hesitantly pulls Luffy close to himself, "Very happy, very married. Right, dear?"

The stiffness and awkwardness that Zoro had felt before is back again, but this time amplified everytime he drops a pet name.

"M...married. Yeah," Luffy nods, lips pursing in that way they do when he's lying.

"Oh." Shalulia looks disappointed, "That's, uh... how long?"

"Not long. We're on our honeymoon. Right, honey?" Zoro says.

"Yeah," Luffy responds, squeezing Zoro's hand. Zoro looks a bit surprised, looking at their hands.

"Uh... you’re sure?" Shalulia asks, a little suspicious, catching onto the way Zoro’s looked at their hands then to his ‘husband’s’ face, as if he wasn’t expecting that.

"We're... still getting used to it. The wedding was so... amazing, it's hard to believe it was real," Zoro explains, poorly. Stirring up this story was harder than once thought...

"Was really big," Luffy says quickly, "Uh, we...had...a lot of food there! And--and...a big party!"

She doesn't seem convinced.

"May I see your ring?" She asks, looking at Zoro.

"Sure," Zoro nods, holding his hand out. Zoro has a wedding band, while Luffy got the engagement ring and wedding band combo.

"This seems fake," she says, "Is it... plastic?"

"Uh, well... we kinda had to go cheap," Zoro says, "blew a shit ton on setup."

"Right..." Shalulia says, "How long have you two been together?"

"Two years," Zoro says. It's how long he's known Luffy for. He looks down at his pretend partner and tells Shalulia the first true thing he's said all night, "I've loved him since the day we met."

"Two years?" She questions, "And you just got married? Pretty fast, if you ask me."

"Neither of us asked you." Luffy turns his head toward her, the blank stare he gives her almost threatening. She falters, moving back a bit out of instinct.

"I didn't-- I've just never heard of anyone marrying after only two years," she says.

"I love him a lot, so we got married," Luffy says.

"I..." Shalulia plays with her hair more, floundering, "You're very lucky, then."

Luffy looks up at Zoro.

"With him by my side, I'm the luckiest on earth," Luffy says. Zoro's surprised by the sincerity. When did Luffy learn to lie? He sounds like he means it, and Zoro would like to think he does... Zoro gets the gut wrenching urge to push the mask up off Luffy's face and kiss him, just to see how he'd react. His hair pushed back from the mask being moved, his lips slightly open from surprise... Zoro cuts off the thoughts. As if he'd be able to do that. He focuses back on the matter, Luffy can lie and get away with it.

"I'm the luckiest," Zoro says quietly, "...Anyway, yeah. This is my husband."

"Right. Your husband," Shalulia says. She looks Luffy up and down, then looks back to Zoro, "Guess you would say no if I asked you to dance?"

"I'd say no," Zoro agrees, "A honeymoon is celebrated with the one you married, after all."

"Right. Of course," She says, "Well, this was... fun, but I think we're done here."

Shalulia walks off, deciding to find someone else to talk to.

Sanji peruses the party calmly, searching the ground. He's got a huge grin on his face, waiting to see a beautiful lady to talk to. He sees a girl walking away from Zoro and Luffy, in a huff.

"Mademoiselle!" Sanji calls, practically twirling toward her, "I was frozen by your beauty, o beautiful princess. May we dance?"

"Dance?" Shalulia asks. She looks Sanji over. He's not the same kind of handsome as that last man, but he hasn't got a ring and his princely mask is certainly more appealing... She offers her hand, "Lead the way."

"Wonderful!" Sanji cries, whisking her off to the dance floor, "a beautiful lady such as yourself shouldn't be alone on a night like this. You may call me... Prince."

He would say his real name, but that's the thing with being a wanted criminal, you really shouldn't give that out.

"Prince? Then you may call me Princess," she says. They dance for a little before she speaks again, "You can dance well. Is there any other skills you might want to show me?"

"Ah, I would love to, but I can't here," Sanji smiles, twirling her, "I'm a skilled chef, you see. One of the best, if I may."

"You are? What kind of dish are you best with, then?" she asks. She has to speak up a little, for as they dance they get closer to the band. Brook sits up at front, though he doesn't seem to notice Sanji dancing just in front of him.

"I'm best with seafoods, you see," Sanji explains, "My father trained me when I was young on the best ways to cook. How to cut things, where to do it... it's important to me that my hands are always ready to cook."

"That's very impressive," She says, "If only you could cook for me, I would love to watch those hands at work."

"I-I would love to cook for you!" Sanji looks shocked and excited, the fact that a woman actually is interested in his advances is new and exciting, "I shall impress you with my knife skills and fine cuisine!"

"I look forward to it," She says, grinning.

Zoro watches Shalulia dancing with Sanji a moment, then looks down to Luffy again. Zoro would like to dance with Luffy, and if they're married, they probably should, right? Just imagining holding Luffy close to dance... If Zoro's ever going to dance with Luffy, it'll have to be now.

"Speaking of dancing..." Zoro starts, "We've been standing by this wall for a while. Do you want to dance with me?"

"I can dance!" Luffy says, and it’s in such a burst it’s almost as if he was waiting impatiently the whole entire time for Zoro to ask, pulling Zoro to the floor without any hesitation, "Don't step on my feet, though."

"I'm not going to step on your feet," Zoro says, letting Luffy lead their dancing.

The song is fairly fast, but before Zoro can be thankful they don't have to slow dance, the song fades out. As if Zoro's thoughts summoned it, a far more romantic song begins to play. Zoro looks to the musicians nearby, where he sees Brook grinning at him from under his skeletal mask. Is everyone determined to try to help him and Luffy along?

"I'm going to kill you for this..." Zoro mutters, gaining a look from a few nearby dancers, Luffy included.

"Why's Zoro gonna kill him?" Luffy asks, "We're just dancing."

Luffy doesn't really hide the fact he wants to keep dancing.

"...Right," Zoro says. He continues letting Luffy lead him in silence for a few moments, but the close contact and romantic music have his mind wandering. Luffy was incredibly convincing before with Shalulia, and Zoro wants to know where the ability to do so came from. Zoro soon speaks up, "Hey, Luffy, when did you learn to lie? You even had me fooled for a moment back there with some of the stuff you said, like being the luckiest to have me..."

"I am the luckiest, so it wasn't a lie," Luffy says, squeezing Zoro's hand. "I'm really bad at lying, so I decide to be truthful."

"Oh," Zoro says. His voice is quiet, as the music is soft. Zoro can barely hear the song anymore, though, his focus is on Luffy only, "You know, I wasn't lying about everything, either. I was telling the truth when I said I was the luckiest, too, and... some other stuff."

"I can't tell when Zoro lies," Luffy replies quietly, stopping their swaying for a moment, "What else did Zoro say that was truthful?"

"What else?" Zoro asks. He said he's loved Luffy since they met and he meant it, but should he tell Luffy that?

"Zoro forgot?" Luffy takes his response as confusion, "Then... maybe I can try and show Zoro what I felt when we were talking. Maybe he’ll remember.”

Zoro doesn't know what Luffy means by that, but he nods.

"Show me what you felt," Zoro says.

In the dark of the mansion's basement, Franky opens the door to the fuse box. He uses a light attached to his robotic mask to see, something those upstairs in the ballroom are soon sure to wish they had. The power only needs to be off for a few moments, and hopefully Nami will be able to steal without interference.

Luffy tightens his hold on Zoro, then moves his hands up to Zoro’s cheeks, thumbs under the mask. He slowly pushes it back, onto Zoro’s head, and presses up against Zoro, his hands moving to Zoro’s shoulders. He glances at Zoro’s lips, leaning in, hoping Zoro will get the memo.

Zoro takes a second to realize what's happening, then leans down to reciprocate. Before he can get close enough, the lights suddenly cut. There's a few shouts of shock as those in attendance try to figure out what's happening, and Zoro pulls away from the near-kiss. Suddenly there's a scream, and the music sours with the sudden loss of a violin. It clatters loudly to the ground and Zoro grabs Luffy's waist, pulling him closer, Luffy tightens his hold on Zoro’s shoulder out of shock, twisting the fabric of his suit in his hands. The darkness stretches a moment longer, and when the lights flicker back on, Brook is on the floor. A woman screams, someone in the crowd faints, and the host, Roswald, looks horrified.

“Is he dead!?” He says, “The party is ruined! Get to the bottom of this, someone, right now!”

"Brook!" Luffy yells, shocked, wrenching away from Zoro.

There's blood on his chest, a stab wound in his heart. He was old, sure, so maybe this was bound to happen soon, but nobody wanted it like that!

"S-Stay back!" A pink haired man yells as Luffy rushes toward the body, "Don't touch the body!"

Luffy tries to rush forward anyway but is stopped by Zoro, who grabs him. The pink haired man--the same who Usopp had been talking to earlier--approaches Brook. He's cut off by Chopper, who runs forward.

"I'm a doctor!" Chopper says, "Let me try and help him!"

Chopper kneels down next to the body, checking him over. If it weren't for how serious the situation was, it would almost be laughable to see someone in a reindeer mask kneeling over a bloody body. However, no one finds any comedy in it as he sits up, solemn-faced.

"He's... he's dead." Chopper says, "His pulse is already gone, the wound hit his heart..."

"Let me go!" Luffy is practically wrestling Zoro, "What's wrong with you, Zoro?! Let me go! Who the hell did this?!"

"What're you going to do? You can't help him," Zoro says. He can't let Luffy near Brook and he knows it.

"Who would have done something like this?" Chopper asks.

"Yes, who?" Robin seems to emerge from shadows, smiling, "Clearly this wasn't done alone. The lights went off, and a body appears. Who among us?" She clasps her hands behind her back, and Luffy stares at her, shocked. She looks to the pink haired man, "Well, Mr. Policeman?"

"It's Coby," The pink haired man says, introducing himself, "The weapon was a knife... who could use one? It would have to be someone close..."

"Or someone able to throw one," Chopper offers.

"Let's look at the people nearby, then." Robin says, "Would anyone here have been able to do it?"

"There's the other musicians," Coby says, "They're all close to him."

"Their hands are all full with instruments," Robin says, "They'd have to make an extra hand appear out of thin air to kill him, which isn't something anyone can do."

"Then those on the dance floor," Coby says. "They're close enough to run forward and stab him."

"So up front, our suspects are a hero, a prince, and a princess," Robin says. She doesn't want to accuse Luffy or Zoro, since Zoro is supposed to keep Luffy from getting upset. Luffy could ruin everything, after all, "Would any of them--"

"Wait, there's that demon and dragon couple, too," Coby says, cutting Robin off, "They're just as close as the other three. We can't overlook them."

"Of course, my mistake," Robin says. Fine, then she needs to clear their names before Luffy gets worked up, "As I was saying, would any of them have been able to kill him?"

"The hero could have. He told me earlier, he could throw a knife in the dark accurately. He has the skill to be able to do it," Coby says.

"I didn't mean like this!" Usopp says.

"Could the prince or princess have done it?" Robin asks.

"The prince could have!" Shalulia says, "He broke away from me when it got dark, and he said he was good with a knife!"

"In the kitchen, my dear, not in a murder!" Sanji says, but Shalulia steps further away from him. Luffy finally breaks away from Zoro to run forward, trying to get to Brook again, but is caught around the waist by Robin.

"Let me go!" Luffy scratches at her arm as she pushes him back to Zoro.

"What about the couple?" Coby asks, "Charging at the body is suspicious, are you trying to hide evidence?"

"No! He was my friend!" Luffy says, upset he's even being accused.

"It isn't him. He's not good with knives, anyway," Robin says, "Or with lying."

"But it could be his partner," Shalulia says, "I overheard him when we passed! He threatened the musician when the song changed!"

"And he's good with a sword!" Chopper says, caught up in the excitement of the investigation. Luffy looks back at Zoro, shocked.

"I didn't do it! I was dancing with him the whole time!" Zoro said, pointing to Luffy. "He was holding me. I couldn't have killed anyone without him knowing."

"Zoro didn't." Luffy says slowly, irritated that nobody would let him go back to Brook. "But you two?!" He whirls on Usopp and Sanji, both looking surprised, "What the hell is this?! Who did it?!"

"Come on, Luffy. Let the detectives figure it out." Zoro says, pulling him back a few steps.

Unnoticed by those arguing, a maid in a fox mask makes her way through the crowd, a sheet draped over one arm. She bumps into a few people as she goes, making her way to the front of the ballroom to pass the sheet off to Chopper. He tosses the sheet over Brook, and the maid leaves. With their focuses on the murder, no one in the crowd notices if their pockets are suddenly lighter as she goes by.

"What the hell is your problem?" Luffy whispers harshly, "Brook is dead! Someone killed him--one of our friends! Let me go!"

"Trouble in paradise?" Shalulia sneers, "I still think he killed him!"

"I didn't. You know that," Zoro says, looking at Luffy, "Luffy, do you trust me?"

"Should I?" Luffy seems unsure, holding away from Zoro.

"Please," Zoro says, "Luffy, if you trust me, just sit this one out. Things will be alright, I swear."

"How can I sit this out?!" Luffy demands, shaking his head.

"Luffy, there's nothing you can do. Let those two handle this," Zoro says. He stops holding Luffy so tight and instead cups Luffy's face in his hands. He's become used to casual affection over the course of the night, so it's far more natural. He meets Luffy's eyes, "I'm asking you to trust me. Calm down and wait, things will work out."

Luffy visibly relaxes a fraction of an inch, looking at Brook. Luffy sucks in a breath and tightens his hold on Zoro's shirt, clearly upset. "I'm gonna kill whoever did it."

"I know," Zoro says, nodding. He wraps his arms around Luffy, hoping to ease Luffy's pain. Luffy seems to take comfort in it, turning his face away and into Zoro's chest.

"So the couple didn't do it," Robin says, watching them, "What about you, hero?"

"No, of course not!" Usopp says, "He was my friend! He was both of our friend! Why would we?"

"He's right," Sanji says, "We all know that musician. None of us would kill him!"

"But one of you did." Coby worries at the edge of his jacket, "I'm sorry, but it's true, and this shouldn't just be solved by us."

"What do you mean?" Robin asks, "Who else is supposed to help?"

"The police!" Coby cries, "We shouldn't just be standing here! We should call them right away!"

"That's not necessary," Robin says, "I'm a detective and you're a police officer, we should be able to solve this without help."

"You're not a detective I've ever seen before," Coby says, though her witchy mask does cover most of her face.

"I'm quite private," She explains, "That's why. Come now, let's just solve this." Robin tucks some hair behind her ear, "The couple has an alibi, correct?"

"Like I said," Zoro is keeping Luffy close, "we were holding onto each other the whole time. And with how upset he is? Why the hell would I do it? He was my friend too."

"He was friends with all of you, and still he's dead," Coby says, "That excuse doesn't mean anything, unfortunately."

"He was still holding me," Luffy turns his head, "So it wasn't me or Zoro."

"Zoro? That name's familiar..." Coby says.

"Probably that movie about the swordsman," Zoro says. He really doesn't need to be arrested because Luffy forgot not to say his name in front of a cop, "You have bigger mysteries to solve than where you've heard my name before."

"Right," Coby says slowly, turning to look at the body, "If I can't find something soon, I'm taking you all in for questions. I'm sorry."

Coby starts walking towards Brook, but Robin grabs his arm.

"Aren't we supposed to question them? You don't need to look at the body," She says.

"I need to see if anything on his body will hint at who did it!" Coby insists, "You're the detective!"

"It's faster with a partner," Robin lies easily.

"Inspecting the body will only take a moment and it will make questioning easier," Coby says. Robin lets him go, not wanting to raise suspicion. She watches him lean over Brook, stepping back. Nami better be done, or this was about to be busted if Brook couldn't keep acting dead.

Coby's thankful he wore gloves with his suit, it'll allow him to inspect the murder weapon without leaving finger prints. He pulls back the sheet, then reaches down to pull the knife from the musician's chest when a hand stops him. It's the musician. Coby doesn't have time to scream before the back-from-the-dead man starts laughing at him.

"Brook..." Sanji sighs, frowning. There goes the plan.

"I'm sorry!" Brook laughs, clutching his stomach, "it--it was just so WORTH it!"

"What's going on!?" Coby cries, wrenching his hand away from Brook. He steps back as Brook sits up. Off to the side, Luffy beams. Brook's alright, but why was he playing dead?

"Shit," Zoro groans, leaning his forehead on Luffy's head as he processed the pure stupidity of his crew, "Brook, you idiot! You better hope Nami is done!"

Brook stands, dusting himself off.

"No one answered me, what just happened!?" Coby says.

"I think we're done here," Robin says, ignoring Coby entirely.

"Brook's alive!" Luffy says, trying to look up at Zoro, which is hard considering Zoro still has his head on top of Luffy's.

"He's ruined the plan, that's what he did," Sanji sighs, pushing the mask up his face.

"The 'plan'? You planned this? Was everyone in on this?" Coby says.

"Unfortunately," Sanji says, and Usopp tosses his mask off, "We all are. It's the distraction."

"Wait a minute..." Coby looks to Zoro, "Z-Zoro? Roronoa Zoro?"

"Yes, Roronoa Zoro," Zoro says, "Hope Franky's ready, because we have to go."

"It's that group of thieves!" Roswald yells, pointing, "Somebody get them! Don't let them escape this party!”

"Hey!" Nami yells from an upper balcony in the ballroom, waving her hands, "We're outside! Get going!"

"That's our cue," Zoro says, and without further prompting, the group makes a break for the door. Most of the guests, the nobles and the rich, are too busy checking to see if they still have their valuables in the presence of thieves to stop their escape. The mass of wealthy people in the room stops security from being able to reach the group, and no one wants to be plowed over by Luffy or his friends.

Franky has the car open, valuables piled in the various spaces on the floor. Luffy dives in first with Zoro after him, pulling him in close for protecting. Luffy thinks it's for protection, anyway.

The rest of the group squeezes in as well, though it's more cramped with the ninth member. Nami sits in the driver seat and Robin takes the passenger seat to avoid being squished.

Zoro sits in a seat and holds Luffy in his lap. He tells himself he's making room for Brook, and in the scramble no one seems to notice. Luffy wraps his arms around Zoro, pulling his knees in to accommodate for Brook's longer limbs.

"Brook, why'd you die?" Luffy asks as he snags Zoro's forgotten mask and starts messing with it.

"They were making a scene so I could rob the place without interruption," Nami says as she starts driving.

"I didn't actually die," Brook says, "I faked it."

"Clearly," Zoro says, "or else we'd be talking to a... I don't know, a fucking skeleton."

Brook laughs.

"Wouldn't that be frightening?" He says. Luffy shakes his head.

"I think it'd be cool!" Luffy says, "I want to be friends with a skeleton!"

"And we didn't tell you this plan because you'd be awful at keeping to it." Usopp says, patting Luffy's head.

"I'll tell you what was frightening, Luffy ready to kill one of us when Brook collapsed." Sanji scoffs.

"I thought it was flattering," Brook says.

"I wasn't scared! I'm sure I could take him if we fought!" Usopp says, "But I wouldn't want to."

"Hurting each other isn't what friends do," Luffy says, "I don't want you guys to die or anything."

"You don't have to worry. None of us are dying anytime soon," Sanji says.

"Brook IS pretty old, though..." Zoro comments.

"I still have plenty of life left in me," Brook says, "It'll take a lot to kill this old man."

"Nami, did we get lots of money?" Luffy asks, putting on Zoro's demon mask.

"Yeah, lots of wallets and jewelry. I'm not sure how much it's all worth, but it's easily thousands," Nami says.

"That's good." Luffy leans back. He didn't really care too much about money, but it was nice to have. He absently pats at Zoro’s wrist, bored.

The car ride passes with idle talk, since they were out fast enough that they weren't chased. They reach their hideout in a few more minutes, an abandoned boat tied to an used dock which they'd taken over. Everyone disperses when they arrive, heading off to get changed out of their fancy getups. It's late, so most of them head to bed shortly after. Despite the calm and quiet in the bedroom neither Luffy nor Zoro can sleep, too much on both their minds. Zoro gets Luffy's attention by waving his hand.

"You wanna go to the front?" Zoro whispers to Luffy, referring to the tip of the boat, where Luffy likes to sit. Luffy nods. He heads up to the front of the ship, letting Zoro follow. When he gets there he stops, waiting for Zoro rather than sitting in his spot on the mast.

In the ballroom, during the dance, Luffy almost kissed Zoro. He'd been so caught up in the moment, he hadn't even got a chance to ask if Zoro was alright with that before everything happened. Zoro stops in front of Luffy, lapsing into an awkward silence. They both search for something to say, but Zoro finds something first.

"You... haven't taken the ring off."

"No, I guess I forgot," Luffy says. He looks down at his hand. In the dark, the ring almost looks real, "I like it."

"You never struck me as a jewelry type," Zoro says, stepping a bit closer so he could grab Luffy's hand.

"This is different," Luffy says. He keeps his eyes on his hand in Zoro's.

"The ring, or...?" Zoro looks at Luffy instead of his hand, "or what I'm doing?"

"The ring, but what Zoro is doing is different, too," Luffy says, "I had fun tonight, pretending to be Zoro's husband."

"Did you?" Zoro grins a bit, "you know, you were trying to show me something, but we got interrupted."

"I was going for a kiss," Luffy admits.

"So, you still want to?" Zoro asks, "Kiss, I mean. We don't have to."

"I want to," Luffy says. He reaches up to hold Zoro's face in his hands, "I really, really want to."

"Then we can." Zoro says quietly, putting a hand on Luffy's lower back and splaying it. He leans down and kisses the corner of Luffy's mouth. Zoro pulls back after, but Luffy hugs his neck to stop him from going far.

"Back when that lady was talking to us, Zoro said something that sounded really sincere. He said he'd loved me since the day we met," Luffy says, "Did he mean that?"

"...I meant it," Zoro says, "I have. Ever since I saw you."

"I feel the same. I've always felt the same," Luffy says, "Maybe we really are soulmates."

"Maybe." Zoro says, lifting Luffy up. "Maybe we are."

Luffy grins, wrapping his legs around Zoro's waist to hold himself up.

"I would like that," Luffy says. He holds out his hand, looking at his ring over Zoro's shoulder, "I think I'm going to keep wearing this."

"What, a fake plastic ring?" Zoro snorts, "you just kind of jumped right into marriage again."

"I'm not thinking of it like marriage! It's like a souvenir," Luffy says, "Instead of marriage, it's from the night Zoro first said he loved me."

"An anniversary ring," Zoro says, comfortable holding Luffy, "Maybe I'll keep mine, too."

Luffy leans his head on Zoro's shoulder.

"We'd be matching," Luffy says.

"Do you want to match?" Zoro asks, turning his head and kissing Luffy's nose. Luffy laughs.

"I wouldn't mind matching," Luffy says.

"Then I'll keep it," Zoro says, "I need to thank Nami."

“What for?” Luffy asks.

"She told me she made us the couple so this shit could happen," Zoro sighs.

"Guess I should thank her, too," Luffy says.

"Why didn't we act on this sooner?" Zoro asks, humming.

"Well, I know Zoro's pretty dumb," Luffy says.

"I know you're dumber," Zoro says

"Rude," Luffy says, "Zoro's rude and dumb and I'm in love with him."

"Luffy's rude and dumb and I'm in love with him more," Zoro responds, grinning. Luffy pulls his head off Zoro's shoulder so he can look at Zoro's face.

"If Zoro loves me so much, then why not he kiss me again?" Luffy asks. Zoro leans in and kisses Luffy again, repeating his actions over and over to get the point across. Luffy eventually breaks away, and he leans back in Zoro's arms to look up at the sky. The air's clear, and he can see thousands of stars.

"They're bright," Luffy says. He looks down at Zoro, then grins. To Zoro, that's brighter than anything in the sky, day or night. There's no need for sunshine, not with Luffy so close. Zoro has the sea below him, the stars around him, and Luffy in his arms. He doesn't ever need anything else.

#zolu #zolu week #sammy writes fic #(with a friend)#one piece

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