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#like anons & mutuals alike
forlix · 4 months
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𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫・h.h.
— an impromptu drive to the airport at five in the morning rekindles conversations and feelings alike.
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words・2.5k pairing・ex-boyfriend!hyunjin x gn!reader genres・angst, mutual pining, hurt w/no resolution, established (former) relationship, Airport Scene™ warnings・implied toxicity, strong language, Not a Happy Read
a/n・dear anon who asked where this went after i posted and deleted it a few months ago & dear other anon who requested mentioned hyune angst: this is for u, my loves
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“I’m outside,” was how you were greeted over the phone earlier, in a tone so callous and cold that you barely recognized the speaker. Barely.
“Sorry, you’re what?”
“You have a flight today, right? I said I’d take you to the airport.”
One second, you were at a complete loss; the next, you thought you were going to erupt with how much you felt and how much you wanted to say, the weight of the situation hitting you with full force. Your ex-boyfriend, to whom you hadn’t spoken in nearly three weeks, had just materialized outside your home with no warning at the ass crack of dawn and suggested you get into a car alone with him for an hour.
As if that wasn’t the very last thing you wanted to do.
Briefly, you reflected on how you parted ways; you wouldn’t say the breakup was malicious, but it certainly wasn’t amicable, either. The longer your relationship went on, the more questions you raised—important and unavoidable considerations of your future together, none of which Hyunjin could give you substantial answers to. Whether it was because he couldn’t or because he simply didn’t care to try, you didn’t know. But the fact that you had to ask yourself that at all was enough for you to take a step back.
Distance morphed into passive aggression. That, in turn, precipitated constant conflict. The starlight that you saw in Hyunjin fizzled further with every biting word and slammed door. The resulting supernova was far from the beautiful spectacle you’d been promised in your astronomy textbooks.
Standing on the sidewalk outside your apartment was your fallen star in the flesh.
“Let me do this, Y/N."
You’d gone silent for what felt like whole minutes before Hyunjin spoke again.
"Please," he added. You perceived how the word weakened towards the end, some of the frost in his voice displaced by quiet exasperation.
It was these observations, plus the time displayed on the clock hanging above your bathroom door, that prompted you to take your luggage in hand and leave your apartment. You were going to miss your flight if you stood there, glowering silently, for any longer.
When you emerged into the frigid morning, you spotted Hyunjin’s silhouette immediately, and something inside you came undone, as though a knot had been doing itself over and over since you and him parted ways. Your eyes locked together, your gaze contemplative, his a little surprised, as if he didn’t actually expect you to accept his offer.
The first word that came to your mind was exhausted. You could tell that the shadows on his face weren’t just products of the lone streetlight above his head; he had his back curved in a slouch that made him look a few inches shorter than he was. You were reminded of a balloon with an indiscernible opening somewhere on its surface, gradually and inevitably deflating.
Much to your irritation, the second word to surface in your mind was beautiful. Hyunjin’s normally sharp features, from what you could see beneath his hood, were bare and smooth from fatigue; thick strands of dark hair, longer than you remembered, fell effortlessly over his forehead and his cheekbones; his figure somehow looked even broader, leaner when fitted in the loose material of a hoodie and sweatpants.
He was the spitting image of a man you used to know, who looked just like this whenever he wandered into your bedroom at the end of the day, whenever he wrapped you into his arms and littered kisses over your skin until sleep overcame the both of you like a warm, clear tide, whenever he greeted you with a smile that shone like the tropical sun the next morning.
You were standing in front of a ghost.
You broke eye contact first, averting your eyes to your luggage instead. Just in time to see and feel his hand brush against yours when he took your suitcases from you and loaded them into the trunk, all without saying a word.
Now, twenty minutes have passed since Hyunjin started driving, and forty remain before you reach the airport. The vehicle is deathly silent save for the drone of wheels against pavement and wind whistling against dusty windows. You haven’t looked at Hyunjin since you met him outside your place. Instead, your eyes are fixated on the lights of Seoul and the way they flicker out of sight one by one as you drive further away.
And you remember.
The different memories you have of this car blow through your mind like you’re skimming a flipbook. That time you burst into tears mid-drive and Hyunjin pulled over on the side of the highway, giving you his undivided attention as you ranted about the terrible day you’d had. That time you noticed a paparazzi van stationed around the corner and the two of you sank so low in your seats that you had to later unfold yourselves from beneath the glove compartments. The assorted dog-shaped air fresheners you bought for him, a new one hanging from the rear-view every month (except the one that resembled Kkami, which stuck around for almost a year). The caffeine-flavored kisses shared over the cupholders between the seats, one person tipping over the drinks precariously, the other moving to catch them with a soft huff of laughter. The extra hoodie he kept in his backseat for if you ever accidentally underdressed when you went out together. The playlist you curated together, always playing quietly in the background.
You never gave this car a second thought when you and Hyunjin were together, but it is only now that you realize the place felt a little like an extension of home, of him.
The silence becomes fucking excruciating.
You are not sure if Hyunjin is interested in speaking to you. You’re less sure if you even have anything to say to him. But you open your mouth anyway.
“Thank you,” you say, hardly audible. “For doing this.”
A pregnant pause follows. Hyunjin probably wasn’t expecting you to start a conversation—neither were you, to be fair.
Little do you know that he has been trying and failing to string together a sentence since the moment he started the engine, and hearing your voice feels like clouds parting on a foggy day, a singular ray of sunshine settling on his cheek.
“It’s no trouble,” he returns. He’s quiet for a while after this, and you’re beginning to think the conversation is already over when he clears his throat.
“How are you feeling? About the trip, I mean.”
“Good. I think it’ll be nice to get away from Seoul for some time.”
Your choice of answer is intentional, and you can tell by Hyunjin’s lack of immediate response that he picks up on this.
“And you?” You return. “How’ve you been?”
“Fine, thanks. The members and I went to the states a few days ago, finished up album promotions there.”
“Oh, right.” He’d told you about this; they’d been in Japan prior, if you remember correctly. “And everything went well?”
“Yeah. It was a lot of fun.”
“When did you get back?”
You don’t expect him to hesitate at such a simple question, but he does.
“Few hours ago,” he mumbles.
This takes you a few seconds to process. And then, so surprised at his answer that you can no longer help yourself, you finally lift your gaze to the side of Hyunjin’s face.
Your eyes comb over the fluorescent lights of the highway illuminating the slope of his nose; the weariness clouding his irises; his teeth latched gently around his lower lip, as if trying to prevent himself from saying another word.
Hyunjin turns his head to look at you, too, only for a few seconds and more out of anxiety than anything. But you have long mastered the art of reading the fine print of his facial expressions, and that brief interval is enough for you to catch what hadn’t been there the last time you’d looked him in the eye: the true reason why he’d hardly set his bags down on the dormitory floor before he was leaving again, piling into a car and going to you; the same entity that you know is etched all over your face, too.
Yearning.
He is the one who looks away first this time, with a soft snap of his head like he has to force himself to do it—but the damage has already been done.
“Idiot,” you mutter under your breath, and you mean it in every sense of the word.
And it’s so unexpected (and so damn true) that it wrests a laugh from Hyunjin’s lips, the sound every bit as light as it is dark. The bittersweet smile that it leaves behind on his face mirrors helplessly onto your own.
You don’t say another word to each other for the rest of the drive.
The sun has risen by the time Hyunjin pulls up to the curb of the international terminal, but there’s hardly anybody around at this time of day, so he doesn’t mask up before stepping out of the car. He places your suitcases in front of you, then holds up a finger as a silent gesture of wait right there—and he dashes up the curb, beelines towards the line of trolleys, and pulls one over. 
You feel a helpless warmth in your fingertips as you haul your suitcases onto the metal platform together. Even now, he’s taking care of you, as thoughtlessly and naturally as respiring.
“Is that everything?”
“I think so.”
And the two of you find yourselves two feet apart and facing each other, examining your counterparts as if the answer of what the fuck to say now lies in the curves of their cheeks, in the purse of their lips.
But all you obtain from looking at Hyunjin is a glimpse of that wicked entity again, yearning, now in the form of eyes softened by the sunrise and lips parted by forbidden words, sitting readily on the tip of his tongue.
You feel a deep, hollow sadness within you, derived from knowing and hating that no amount of yearning will change the reality that he’s not yours anymore.
“Have a great trip,” Hyunjin says at last. “Be safe, okay?”
“I will,” you answer. “Thank you again. Get some rest today.”
Your arms move to push your trolley, but not before they nearly twitch in his direction with how much you want to hug him goodbye. The last thing you see before turning around is his hand in the air, and then you enter the airport, wondering vaguely if you will ever see him again.
You're in a bit of a numb state as you check in your bags and step into the line for security. The last hour has left you feeling like your heart and mind have filled with static—the kind that shows up when there are too many television signals in the air, all of them unintelligible and amorphous.
But then there is a shout of your name behind you, so urgent that the familiar voice cracks over the last syllable, like bone breaking upon boulder. You turn around.
The white noise clears.
The soles of Hyunjin’s sneakers echo as he runs across the mostly-empty airport; his hood has been knocked down and his long hair set free, combed backward by the wind; there are other eyes on him, but he is only looking at you, something else burning in his gaze now, something certain and familiar. 
You move your suitcases aside and extend your arms, your pulse racing with anticipation—just in time for him to positively crash into you. He very well could have hurt you with how quickly he’s moved toward you, but the very instant his skin meets yours, he’s gathering you so tightly and securely in his arms that he cushions his own fall, costing you only of the breath in your lungs.
And the two of you fuse together like a cosmic collision, imperfect but quintessential. The moon’s craters themselves.
He knots one hand in your hair and cradles the back of your neck with the other; you form fists around the fabric of his hoodie, your face disappearing into the junction of his neck and shoulder. And you feel the tears come at last: tears of relief, of regret, of remembrance.
There are a billion things Hyunjin wants to say to you then. He wants to thank you for loving him. He wants to blame you for loving him. He wants to tell you that it was all worth it for him, so long as he was once the reason that you smiled. He wants to convince you—and himself—that nothing was meant to last forever, that the two of you were destined to burn out, the same way even the biggest and brightest of heavenly bodies have shelf lives too.
But there is one train of thought that overshadows the rest. It rings louder and truer than anything he has ever known and emerges straight from the chambers of his heart.
“I—” He sounds shattered when he speaks, his voice muffled where his lips touch your skin, his words a rasp that is only audible to you. “I still—”
“I know,” you whisper, squeezing your watering eyes. “Me too.”
And you think the shaky “fuck” that leaves his lips is an apt summary of the absolute mess that the two of you have found yourselves in: entirely and obtusely enamored with the person who has proven themselves to be incompatible with your love, time and time again.
You are only willing to pull away far enough from Hyunjin so that you can look at him, his cheeks now damp with saltwater and flushed with emotion, his dreary eyes swimming with adoration and sorrow. You cradle his face with both hands, and he drops his arms to circle around your waist. His fingers lace together against the small of your back.
“It’s gonna be okay,” you murmur. You wipe at his tears with your thumbs, touch your forehead to his. “We’re gonna be okay, Hyun.”
His reply is so sad and so small that your heart feels like it’s being carved out of your chest with a blunt pocket knife. “When?”
You don’t know the answer.
You don’t know the answer when you finally go through security, the final boarding call for your flight booming through the intercom, Hyunjin’s face buried in his shaking sleeves.
You don’t know the answer when you return to Seoul a few months later, and Hyunjin is not there to give you a lift this time.
You don’t know the answer when your birthday passes and you still receive texts from Hyunjin’s parents, wishing you well, reminding you to take care of yourself. Nor do you know the answer on the birthday after that, or the birthday after that, which is when the texts stop coming.
You won’t know the answer for a very long time—so much so that you spend years of your life doubting there’s an answer at all. But you find it one day when you least expect it, and it congeals in your mind like expired milk, numbs your mouth like the strongest of anesthetics. 
You have your answer then, but you don’t want it.
You never have.
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🔖・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend ・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa
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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡
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edges-of-night · 9 months
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hi! I've just discovered your blog and I love it - from the url, profile pic, everything 😍 and most importantly your writing, it's so cute and you're able to write so many characters 🥰 as a fellow fic writer - I'm impressed 💜 can I request how they would first realize they love you, and how they would say it for the first time? No pressure, and thank you so much if you end up doing it. 🥰
- @wordbunch (sadly can't send asks from my Tolkien sideblog, so I'm on anon lol)
Thank you so so much for your kind words!! ♡ I’ve actually had this scenario in my “to do notes” already, so I’m very happy you requested it haha! Sorry again for posting so late, I hope you enjoy the read!
・゚✧ Aragorn.
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Aragorn is not someone to make the first step in romance, even if he is the one falling in love first. He’d probably realise it during the ranger job you do together, like looking for herbs or reading traces – where his hand brushed against yours! But Aragorn is very much the person to respond to a love confession of yours, after which he tells you that he reciprocates your feelings in a very romantic manner: “Me too. I am bound to you by honour and affection alike. If you would have me…”
・゚✧ Arwen.
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Arwen would fall in love with you after dancing together. It could be on a ball her father’s giving, or just the two of you under the moonlight, where she’d laugh of bliss. You’d notice a slight change in her behaviour afterwards, more smiles, stolen glances – but you could only be sure after she finally told you, “It is because I have fallen for you, melethel. And there is nothing you can do about it!”
・゚✧ Boromir.
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Boromir takes a casual approach to love and romantic relationships. This is why his love confession to you would be rather nonchalant, maybe over a lunch you’re preparing together over the fire. “I love you, you know that?” he’d say, all cool – as if he didn’t fall for you when he saw you fearlessly wielding a sword and shield during combat training…
・゚✧ Elrond.
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Elrond would fall in love with you so gradually he wouldn’t be able to pinpoint an exact moment of realisation. Maybe it would be over a book you’re reading together, or when he told you about all the ancient stories he witnessed himself – or a grand love story. And then he’d turn to you and say, “Are you aware that this is how I feel about you as well?” He’d be very tender and playful about it, but earnest at the same time. He is very considerate toward you.
・゚✧ Éomer.
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Éomer doesn’t fall in love easily. Maybe due to this lack of experience, he has trouble expressing his feelings after that one horseback ride you did through the rain, where he helped you out of your dirty clothes afterward. His love confession would be a tedious process, with lots of phrases like, “Don’t make me say it. I lack the words to tell you…” – before he eventually leans in for a kiss and quietly adds, “Forgive me. I hope this tells you all the same.”
・゚✧ Éowyn.
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Éowyn is always brash and joyous around you, so her love confession would take you quite by surprise. She’d pick “an old Rohirrim tradition” to show you, maybe a special exchange of gifts, a traditional dance routine etc. “This is how the people of Rohan express their love,” she’d tell you with a soft smile and hopeful eyes. If asked, she would tell you when she realised she loved you: during sword lessons, of course!
・゚✧ Faramir.
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Faramir falls in love with you as soon as he meets you. He’s always been like that, heart racing with as little as a soft look or touch of a hand. For this same reason, and Gondor’s marriage policy, he swallows down any confessions because he has little hope in his own feelings. But after months, maybe years of courting and mutual affection, he’d finally tell you, in some grand romantic spot he chose – on his knees – because he’d connect it to a marriage proposal!
・゚✧ Frodo.
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Frodo would realise he loved you on a warm summer morning, as you’re walking barefoot in the grass – and then not tell you. He’d keep his secret to himself (haha), just smile to himself and subtly check the way you’re feeling before confessing to you – probably while holding both your hands, because that’s how sincere he is! “It gives me hope to hear you say that, because I, too, hold you very dear and love you very much!”
・゚✧ Galadriel.
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Thanks to her powerful telepathy skills, Galadriel probably knows you love her before you yourself do. She knows all about your feelings – but nothing of her own. I like to imagine her as blissfully oblivious, right up until the moment you confess to her. Then something would click inside her, and with a blank stare ahead, she’d whisper, “I love you, too. I haven’t realised it until now – but I do.”
・゚✧ Gandalf.
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Gandalf would realise he loved you after you’ve said or done something incredibly smart, like maybe found the solution to a problem that he was unable to solve. It’d make his heart skip a beat, he even looks away with a blush! And then he’d despair trying to find a “suitable moment for courtship”, as the old ways suggested, full of ceremony – and probably end up telling you his feelings very casually over a cup of tea he invited you to.
・゚✧ Gimli.
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Your usually hard-shelled Dwarf gets very flustered when he says the three words to you – followed by some nervous babbling, like, “There! I said it first. And I mean it very earnestly.” The moment he fell for you was probably connected to seeing you in a new light: Working in the mines all day leaves little room for elegance, but after seeing you in your beautiful banquet outfit, Gimli was walking into walls for the next three days!
・゚✧ Haldir.
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Haldir has always dreaded falling in love. But when you smiling at him makes his heart skip about three beats, he cannot lie to himself any longer. He can lie to you and everyone else though, needless to say. Not that anyone actually believes his denials… But Haldir would only confess his love in a life-or-death situation, when he thinks he’d never get the chance again. Then, of course, he’d be as elegant and romantic as all Elves are.
・゚✧ Legolas.
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If you are near Legolas the moment he realises he loves you – on a scouting trip, for example, or during preparations for a ball in Mirkwood – he’d tell you right away. He’d give you an analysing look, with a smile dancing around his lips, and say something like, “How I love you right now! I love you very much, my dear.” Thanks to his royal training, of course, he’d respectfully draw back until you’ve made your own feelings clear.
・゚✧ Merry.
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While he’s usually rather easy-going, Merry would plan out his love confession (meaning: a speech!) step by step, including an outfit plan and meal schedule designed specifically for you. He is the thinking type, and when it comes to this, he tends to overthink. He’d include a line like, “From the moment I first saw you…” when in reality, he probably fell for you when you joined one of his shenanigans without any reservations, proving just how similar you two are at heart.
・゚✧ Pippin.
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Pippin strikes me as a very “love at first sight” kind of person. At the same time, he’s really casual and playful about it. He’d only talk about it in return of your confession to him, like, “I never thought about that! I fell in love with you the first time we met!” – and probably shower you in a million compliments in the process!
・゚✧ Sam.
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Sam would realise he’s in love with you while thinking of new poetry to write – because all he thinks about is you! Somewhen along the line, he’d lean back in his chair, starting at the dozens of pages he wrote about you – and then have the overwhelming urge to go up and meet you to tell you right away, in his adorably sincere and gentle manner ♡
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luffyvace · 2 months
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Hey there brook! I hope u having a nice day! Can I ask for a luffy x heroic fem reader headcanon? by heroic I mean that she completely dedicated her life to help and save ppl and that her purpose in life, she's strong and seems cold but when u get to know her she has empathy more than anyone else, I feel like this is the perfect character that luffy would fall in love with, pure kindness hiding behind a tough facade, she doesn't even like being called a hero, yet she is willing to do anything for those in need, slaves, poor villages, she goes against anything unjust without any fear, cause thats her purpose in life (sorry if that was too long 💀)
Hi anon <33 (it makes me so happy that someone finally addressed me as that💗)
today was a very chill day 😊 thank you! How’s yours?
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Reader sounds so genuine with such a good background for a op character!!
(Don’t worry it’s not too long—I love to read:3)
Ngl luffy subconsciously sees a little bit of himself in you!!
like your hearts are so similar—gold!
of course he doesn’t directly think that way- but he feels the connection!
which is through helping!
you two never turn your backs on those who have never wronged you
its not even about if they’re on your side or not, as long as they haven’t wrong you? and they need help?
the both of you are on it 🤜🤛👍
you wanting to save others becomes admirable to more than just him, to all of the straw hats—chopper and usopp especially!
I’m gonna go ahead and say it here and now you remind both Jinbe and luffy of whitebeard and fishman island type thing
LIKE THAT’S HOW IT IS!!
Y/n is just her tbh 🤷‍♀️
and if the ops don’t like that? 🤨
🤜💥
how you like that? >:)
your strength may or may not be hereditary but either way if you don’t continue training or working out your gonna loose that strength eventually
which shows just how hard you train everyday!!
bro works harder than zoro 🗿
and we all know he don’t sleep on workin out
so y/n is a gorilla the og
its no wonder you be cookin the ops like breakfast👩‍🍳👍
this is literally turning into a rant about me being (name)’s biggest fan ok let’s move on
luffy saw you cold exterior and was like
😍😍😘🥰😘💍💋💋💋
LOLOLOL no but fr he looked straight past that
he always does- he ignored law’s and zoro’s why wouldn’t he with you-
and once he sees your true kindness???
Locked in like a booty hole 🔗
(ANYWAY I HAD TO🧍‍♀️)
yeah he pretty much busts right through that
he pretty much instantly demands you already are is nakama after that
Your empathy is what really swoops him off his feet tho
like luffy has a good sense of empathy so much so he can hear the voice of all things
and you probably can too! It’s highly likely!
(y/n could have her own anime at this point 🤷‍♀️😚)
But seriously the way he can just feel the way you long for others when they’re in pain just gets him right at the heartstrings you know?! 🥺❤️‍🩹
you comfort them so assuredly and keep your promise to win every time !!
luffy would admire himself more than he would know if he realized how alike the two of you are
tbh you probably admire luffy!!
like it’s a mutual thing, where you pretty much don’t see your own coolness you only see the other’s
so you admire each other unaware that your the same 😂💗
he absolutely adores and admires that empathetic part of you thoo!
he loves how your kind and tough
he wholeheartedly believes the strong should protect the weak, cuz that’s what a man does.
especially with nakama.
so he definitely understands your need to protect those who can’t do it for themselves
there are many times he can recall where he had to rely on others
so he loves that your the one who does that for people
and you don’t do it for the money or fame!
you don’t even view yourself as the hero and savior that bystanders see you as!
that’s so cool to him!
you background/past might’ve caused it! Like maybe you had no superhero! So you decided to become one!
he kinda looks up to you in a way 🤩
as someone who has also helped slaves and the poor he completely understands where you come from in your kindness
and it’s even cooler that you charge head on into battle for others without a second thought
that’s just how tough you are ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ
not an ounce of fear in your eyes as you walk up to someone 20x the size of you to simply get back the bread they stole from a poor little child
LIKE HOW COOL IS THAT?! 💥💥
your a super hero!! Dundun duh-duuuuuun!!
🦸‍♀️‼️🤩
you have a goal just like him!! He wants to be the king of pirates and you wanna help others!
With the type of pirate he is?, those things go hand in hand 🤝
”STRAW HAT LUFFY AND PIRATE HERO (NAME) IS HERE!! RUN AWAY!!”
says the pirates who know they’ve done wrong doing!! 😎
also excuse (name)’s lame pirate alias i couldn’t think of one 😊💖
(Name) is so cool 😎 I admire her 💓
hope you enjoyed your hcs anon!! *super heroes away🦸‍♀️🚀*
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fanaticsnail · 3 months
Text
The Spear and the Sword
Masterlist Here.
Word Count: 3,807
This is the final fic for the year, a wonderful prompt given by an anon months ago. Thank you to @since-im-already-here for beta reading and correcting grammar. If there's any issue, know my sister is to blame, folks.
@gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @feral-artistry @vespidphoenix happy new year!
Warning: blood, gore, flirtatious dialogue, mutual pining, playfulness in battle, enemies to lovers, warlord reader, fluff, Mihawk x female!reader.
I said I'd get it done before the new year. Happy New Years Eve to my fellow Aussies!
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This was too much. This was far too much. This was far too much for lord Dracule Mihawk to fend off alone. His great sword Yoru was spattered with the blood of several foes, each impact meeting his blade creating more lethargy in the broody sword master of the seas. His title of “worlds greatest” was hanging in the balance as more enemies approached him with more fervour than ever before.
“Garp,” Mihawk growled into his den-den-mushi earpiece, “you said there would be a few hundred. This is in the upwards of a couple thousand. What is going on back there?” Static and groans of battle were met within the earpiece in return, huffs of gruff breath and thumps of fists coinciding within the ferocious melody.
“It was all I was aware of, Mihawk,” Garp growled once the battle was silenced in the background of the call, “my marines are barely holding up on this end. The other warlords are occupied, I’ve got none to spare you.” Mihawk almost met with a single shot from a bullet, weaving away with a dance-like twirl to dodge the metallic, circular object. He swiped his lengthy blade within the air and kicked back the individual who shot at him, his torso falling to impale themselves against a fence post as a result of the blow.
The town he was tasked to protect, a marine base home to several prominent family members within the world government; alongside the sick, weak, young, and elderly, were currently engaged in a war-like battle with pillagers and pirates from the four corners of the north, east, south and west blues. This army was accumulated under a foreign flag, their jolly roger unfamiliar to both marines and warlords alike. Mihawk had been fighting at the front line alone, his ship destroyed under the destruction of war: his traveling vintages of fine wines claimed by the seas.
As another made his approach, Mihawk huffed out an exhausted and frustrated breath while continuing to swipe to relinquish the foes and meet them with the sharpened edge of his blade.
“Mihawk,” Garp interrupted his flow of battle with his voice cutting through the air within his snail earpiece, “we might have someone available. You’ve worked with her before, a warlord like you. She’s on her way.”
“Boa?” Mihawk asked while placing his fingertip to the shell of the earpiece, “I thought you said she’s on the other side of the north blue right now.” Garp growled at one of his underlings, directing them in some nonsensical way that Mihawk couldn’t quite register.
“No, not Boa,” Garp replied, panting into the earpiece with exhaustion overcoming himself. More clangs, clashes and thumps were heard within the earpiece, Mihawk turning to continue forcing the pillagers back to the shore of the beach.
“No,” Mihawk uttered firmly into the earpiece, “anyone but her. Give me cadets, give me your least valuable soldiers, give me prisoners. Literally anyone else-.”
“I don’t have anyone else!” Garp roared into the earpiece, prompting Mihawk to flinch away from it while furrowing his brows in anger. Both men managed to calm themselves down, Mihawk taking a moment to silence his rage by taking a few deep breaths.
“Put your former grievances and your ego aside, warlord,” Garp ordered within the earpiece, “she’s what we have, and she’s perfect. World’s greatest weapons-master, in fact.”
“I’m aware of that,” Mihawk murmured through his clenched teeth, his teeth grinding as he bit back his lackluster words, “she’s violent, impulsive, ferocious, messy. She’s feral and she’s the bane of my existence.”
“Have you even spoken to her?” Garp questioned, a small humorless laugh falling through his widened grimace, “she’s exactly what we need, Mihawk. You do this, and I’ll let you off the tether to tend your farms, sharpen your sword – or even sheathe it for an entire year.” Mihawk narrowed his eyes, huffing out a frustrated breath and brandishing his sword out to the side in preparation for another recuperated attack from the approaching armada.
“How soon will she be here?” Mihawk asked, his beard protruding while snarling with his upper lip drawing back.
“She’s already on the other side of the war line,” Garp confirmed with him, a final slam of iron-barred doors echoing within the background of the ship, “I’ll patch her through now.”
-
You tilted your head down, looking up at the coastline full of ships approaching the marine-base through your lengthy eyelashes. You drew back your playful smirk, allowing the elevation of your heartbeat to begin to work itself to frenzy within your ribcage. You were known far and wide for your battle-ready ferocity; allowing your rage to take over your emotions within the thralls of battle to relinquish many a foe.
Combat mastery began at a young age; bare knuckle boxing in gladiator cage-matches being one of the first types of combat you overtook the championship of in your youth. After boxing and grappling, you moved on to wielding large hammers and battle axes, enjoying the weight within your fists as you crushed skulls and decapitated limbs. After heftier weapons, you opted to train under the mentorship of a superior fighter. They taught you to throw the spear and reclaim it swiftly, giving you pointers to always meet your target with the piercing tip of the bladed end.
You were nothing, coming from nothing. No family to speak of, you traveled the continents, claiming title after title of world's greatest weapon-master with ease. The only one you were yet to best was the current reigning lord of Kuraigana, his title of World’s Greatest Swordsman continuing to badge itself against his bare chest with pride. Arrogant prick was the first thought that sprung to mind regarding the nature of his aura. You had seen posters, articles and even catalogs regarding his training history and weapons mastery.
As your status was elevated to warlord, the world government approached you for protection against several foes and to take on contracts they would rather not involve themselves with, you accepted under two conditions: they allow you to handle matters in your own way, being the first. Your own way, being: “I will get this done, regardless of the mess, and you will clean it up after I’m done with it.”
The other condition is you were to be given absolutely all the information available to you regarding the contracts: no children, no women: no innocents. Those were your rules. You didn’t care how feral the children were, nor how arrogant and uptight the women were. If they were innocent, you refused to do harm to them, or unleash your wrath onto the world government themselves. There were absolutely no qualms to your requests, printed in bold atop your profile.  
Vice-Admiral Garp had no quarry with your methods, usually placing a den-den-mushi somewhere about within the battlefield to watch your barbaric tirades on the field in awe at your ferocity. 
That was how Mihawk knew of your battle prowess, your pictures almost always covered in some form of dirt, mud and blood within the heat of battle. He absolutely despised mess, but was always held captive to your almost beckoning and sultry gaze as you removed your spearhead from another foe. And you knew him in a similar likeness, his images always clean-cut with not a splash of battle worn on him. Given the call you just received from Garp, you were quivering in anticipation to remedy such a plight from him.
“I’m going to patch you through now, Weaponsmaster,” Garp’s lilted brogue uttered into the den-den-mushi within your ear. His voice almost was quivering itself in anticipation of witnessing the carnage you were about to unleash against the armada as far as the naked eye could see.
“Thank you, Vice-Admiral,” you sang in an almost sultry tone within the earpiece, “I know you’ll be watching closely.”
“Aye, I will be lass,” Garp’s voice laughed into the earpiece. You were very well aware of how fond the older gentleman was of watching you work, not minding in the slightest at the attention and preference you got from him.
“Mihawk, you there?” Garp’s voice echoed within the earpiece, prompting you to wince away from his growl slightly.
“I am, Vice-Admiral.” A moment of pause occurred before Mihawk spoke again, “Weapons-master.”
“Sword-master,” you smirked, your voice almost purring at him, “a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”
“That I’m sure of,” Mihawk replied in a bored tone. You were slightly taken aback by his standoffish mannerism, your brows furrowing low. He absolutely knew who you were, holding a title as warlord and world’s greatest weapons-master. You rotated your shoulders and clicked your neck to rid yourself of annoyance and prepare yourself for battle.
“Conceited Cunt,” you spat, unaware that the contact was still drawn between the three of you – only becoming aware once Mihawk’s voice relayed back to you, “Feral Filiform.”
“Easy now,” Garp’s voice called over the linked den-den-mushi, “Complete this feat first, then get to your flirting.”
“If you think that’s what flirting looks like,” Mihawk winced into the shell, touching his index finger to the outer shell of the den-den-mushi, “I pity your wife.” You chuckled at his crude comment, almost tangibly feeling the rage pouring off Garp in waves through the den-den-mushi attached to your inner ear.
“Save your insults for the enemy, pirate,” Garp spat into the earpiece. You heard Mihawk hum, prompting you to roll your eyes at the interaction. The ships over the shore began to fall closer to your small vessel - the rise of the tide ushering you into the new thralls of battle. You noticed there were a few hundred ships, all carrying an amassment of crew of various sizes. You once again rolled your shoulders back and pursed your lips. 
Placing your fingertip to secure the shell deeper within your ear, you smirked out a final taunt to the warlord.
“This is what was bothering you? Couldn't you handle the troop all by yourself, swordsman?” You cooed into the voice responder. Silence and static was met within the drum of your ear, a stifled growl also accompanying it. You decided to get in a final jab to taunt him, “I could dispatch the armada by myself. Why don’t you take a break, old man? Sit your pretty little ass down on the beach and sit back to watch the show.”
“I’d like to see you try, barbarian,” Mihawk growled in return. Your ship brushed against the hull of the first ship to the rear of the fleet; your presence immediately making itself known as you housed yourself effortlessly over the railing. You laughed into the earpiece, feeling the rapidity of your heartbeat rising in elevation to frenzy yourself before first contact is made with your many foes.
Your spear was flung through your hands to indent itself against the top mast at the middle of the vessel, skewering several members of the mighty crew onto its pole as meat would dangle from a kebab. You grappled, kicked, flung yourself at the crew; using your hands and their own weapons against them to relinquish them from their life. Once they all fell victim to your battle mastery, you again reached your hand up to the shell-responder.
“I bet my left breastplate I will get to the middle before you, Swordsman,” you taunted him, your legs carrying themselves with haste towards the railing of the ship. You jumped high, the air lifting you and drawing your body down against the next vessel. 
“I bet my waist-belt you absolutely won’t, Wild-Woman,” the swordsman snarled into the earpiece, Yoru circling around and pushing the troops back with one fell swipe. Mihawk’s teeth drew themselves back, enraged at his taunt being met with a small melodic giggle. 
“Oh, this is how we’re playing, is it?” You whispered breathily into the earpiece, your spear clutched within the fist of your dominant hand as you stabbed at the next approaching foe. You giggled again, feeling at home on the battlefield. The life drained from the eyes of the enemy under the tip of your spear; another shipful of foes falling on their knees at your expert ministrations.
“Fine,” you smiled into the earpiece, singsong and humor dripping from your tongue, “I’ll see your belt and raise you my entire breastplate.” Mihawk growled in response. You held your ground, immediately flinging yourself at the next ship. 
Rather than to take on several members of this crew, you shrugged your shoulders and thrust your spear downwards - sinking the vessel below your feet. You sprinted against the ship’s deck as it began to be claimed by the sea water below, ushering you on to the next ship. You threw your spear to the next vessel, embedding the tip into a lit cannon and witnessed the beautiful implosion it made; launching the spear back into your awaiting palm as you jumped onto the next one. The blast sunk the ship it was fired from, the cannonball flinging itself to sink the one laying perpendicular to the vessel. 
Mihawk was not paying attention to your battle mastery, assuming you were still undertaking the first vessel you had docked your ship against and fighting like some untrained and feral marine. He snickered at the thought, himself already aboard his second vessel after pushing back the troop from their approach of the shore. 
“I’m looking forward to claiming your breastplate,” Mihawk’s voice audibly smirked into the earpiece, “to add to the winning pool, I’ll claim that spear too.” A shiver of anticipation shuddered against his spine at the audible growl he managed to pull from your parted lips. Holding your spear more firmly within your hand, you growled back at him. 
“There are several things I doubt you’d be able to do correctly, swordsman. Wielding my spear is the first that springs to mind,” you smirked, watching the bubbling of water rise as another ship sank against your skill, “pleasing a woman is the other.”
In order to remain silent while listening to your quips back and forward to each other, Vice-Admiral Garp clapped his wide palm over his lips to stifle an outrageous and unbridled laugh rising in his chest. Bogard smirked, hearing the commotion from the speaker molded into the desktop den-den-mushi, placing his hat over his eyes to hide his joy. 
“I’ll gladly show you I can on both counts, woman.”
“You can certainly try, warlord”
“I will absolutely succeed, fellow warlord.”
 Garp and Bogard were held on the edge of their seats, watching through binoculars the battle mastery balanced between you both while your quippy dialogue read as commentary to your mighty feats. 
“Fine,” you again smirked into your earpiece, clothes and armor littered with the spilt blood of your enemies while your hair stuck to your face under the salty sea-spray, “If I am to give up my weapon to the cause, I will have something of equal value offered in return.”
“Yoru is not something I would ever part with for something as childish as a-,” Mihawk began, his words halting as you offered your trade.
“-If I win this little coo, you pretentious prick, your pride is coming with me,” you called into the shell attached to your ear. Feeling all the pent up rage and frustration of the respect of your skill not being met in return for your affection, you offered the best solution you could find. 
“If I get to these exact coordinates, all foes falling before me,” you relayed the coordinates, Garp, Bogard and Mihawk hanging on your every utterance, “you will report back to Vice-Admiral Garp donning nothing but your stupid cross-blade, your stupid Yoru and your feathered hat.” The battle paused, the enemies halting their approach with their brows furrowing in almost disgust and awe. You held up a halting hand at them, awaiting a vocal response from Mihawk to your taunt. 
Mihawk’s brows themselves were lowered, his eyes narrowed as he sought you out in the field. He couldn’t find you, couldn’t see a trail of destruction in your wake. He continued to search for you within the crowd, but was still unable. 
“In that complete and utter unlikelihood,” Mihawk began, still craning his neck to seek out your form, “I accept the terms. Prepare to have your spear, your breastplate and my own satisfaction in claiming some semblance of femininity from you while I wield your body effortlessly.”
“And you prepare yourself to be absolutely humbled in response, your pride and ego removed because-,” you smirked, your eyes finally meeting with the yellow hue of the feathered warlord only a few hundred feet away from you, “-I’m nearly there.”
Mihawk’s eyes widened as he witnessed you jump to the next vessel, twirling within the air to throw a small axe into the base of the ship and sinking it by placing a wide hole within its bow. You were, indeed, very close to the coordinates. His widened gaze looked harder, noticing the absence of over half of the wide armada sinking to the bottom of the sea. How had he not noticed it before? Why, in all his stupidity, would he ever agree to this without looking properly first? Clearly, he had underestimated you. Or overestimated his ability to easily outmatch you. 
The elements had changed along with the tide. Your battle-ready ferocity was overcast by an aura of calm playfulness; you giggling into the earpiece as you continued falling foe after foe beneath your spear, fist and axes. In turn, Mihawk was the one to begin to shower himself desperately in the blood of his enemies; curling up his lip at the mess alongside his stupidity at undertaking such a bet. 
“C’mon Hawk, keep up. You’re nearly there. Flap your wings harder,” you’d giggle into the earpiece, uncaring whether blood, sinew or bone showered your body in the baptism of battle. 
“Stop your stupid teeth from gnashing, Hyena. Your taunts mean very little to me,” Mihawk panted, his feet carrying him with more haste as he continued to unblinkingly search for you. 
You giggled again in response, your feet almost carrying themselves closer to the finish line. Your enemies within the armada were fleeing from the utter horror you created, your wolfy grin and playful eyes not matching the energy of the gore befalling your form. Many simply dove overboard, ran to the next ship away from you in their cowardly retreat - only to be met with another approaching warlord with his mighty sword clutched in his dominant hand. 
As Mihawk panted for breath, his adrenaline propelling him to the finish line leaving a trail of destruction in his wake; his steps quivered in his tracks as his gaze met with yours.
You were sitting on a barrel, twirling the twine around your spearhead nonchalantly with a litter of bodies laying at your feet. Your left brow was arched upwards, the knowing smirk plastered against your plush lips as you hummed a tune of victory through your nose. 
“Looks like I’ll get to see what your other sword looks like,” you cooed in a melodic tune, not meeting his gaze and remaining aloof, “you can leave your boots at my feet. I think I might wear your coat home with me, Swordsman.”
“You are disgusting,” Mihawk spat at you, his breath finally catching up with him. He was now left breathless at witnessing your ferocity, the wild shape of your battle-worn eyes holding him hostage with tense emotion. 
“You agreed to the terms, Mihawk. Now it’s time to pay up-,” you uttered darkly, snapping your head over to his form with your eyes narrowed at him.
“-I meant your appearance. So wild, so feral, so-,” his next words caught in his throat as you drew yourself down from your sat position atop the barrel, “-unladylike.” You scoffed at him, rolling your eyes in your approach. Wiping your forehead with the back of your arm, you rid your face of the bone, blood and sinew blocking your view of him. He was a very pretty man, the most beautiful you had seen in a long time. Although slightly taken aback by his clean and uptight appearance, you stood your ground. 
“What would you have me wear then? Silks and satins while I dance amongst the chaos? I think not, lord Dracule Mihawk,” you spat at him, laughing dryly at your own comment. Mihawk sucked in a small breath through his nostrils, wincing at your comment with his lips curled into a snarl. You overemphasized a sigh, placing your spear against your back and stretched your arms to cool down your body. 
“I’ll make you another deal then, Mihawk,” you smirked again up at his towering form, “I’ll go and get cleaned up and don some pretty little dress for you,” you prodded his bare chest with your index finger and traced a pattern against his pectorals, “and you can go and relay the play by play to Vice-Admiral Garp completely starkers, okay?” 
Mihawk growled, eyes looking to your tender touch against his chest and almost again finding himself falling to his knees under your radiant ferocity. He rolled his neck, arched his soldiers back and leaned into your touch. 
“Fine,” he spat in response, gripping your bloodied wrist beneath his palm and curled fingertips, “but it better be something tight and preferably black.” You giggled at his comment, raising your other hand up to his cheek and patting it affectionately with a small utterance. 
“What a good boy you are,” you praised him with another cooing taunt, scrunching up your nose and smiling with your feral eyes, “now take off your boots, coat and pants and run along now. I’ll be all dolled up for you and ready for you at the waterfront tavern. I might even see that your clothes are cleaned, pressed and waiting once you arrive.”
Your comment finally broke him, a warm laugh cracking through his tough exterior and rumbling within his chest to pour from his mustached lips. 
“It’s a shame I lost,” he leant his cheek into your touch, prompting you to furrow your brows in curiosity. He stooped his form lower to you, tickling your face with his playful and breathy whisper, “I would’ve liked to have shown you how well I can please a woman.”
BONUS
Eyes were either focussed exclusively on the ceiling or marines would simply turn around as the darkened and well seasoned lord of Kuraigana entered the military office building. Holding true to his word, and the promise of good company after his humiliation, he sauntered confidently into Vice-Admiral Garp’s office donning nothing but Yoru strapped to his back, his cross-blade hanging loosely from his neck, and his feathered hat atop his sea-sprayed, curled, dark locks.
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2cutie · 2 months
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Since you're opening requests, bi han x fem reader truama bonding over their daddy issues😁
anon, why must you call me out like this? im not saying bi-han could fix my daddy issues, i'm just saying he's very pretty & would probably make them worse. i'd still tap it.
Your relationship, if you could call it one, to your father was strained. Connection was minimal; you were left with an absence in your heart. In your upbringing, you had been brought into the Lin Kuei for being a potentially successful warrior. You were brought in relatively young, so you had mostly grown up with Bi-Han and his brothers.
But after time, the future grandmaster and you had an upspoken bond that you didn't share with others. You two never spoke much about it, but the parallel connection was there. You knew his father for a long enough time before his death to see how alike it was to your own, and the strain he put on Bi-Han. His life seemed akin to yours, specifically with how yours had molded you.
The past trauma you constantly buried down was weighing on you. So you sat alone in one of the gardens of the temple, where you knew minimal people visited. You were in your thoughts, your memories and past, and allowing yourself to wallow solemn. It was your own form of growth.
Bi-Han had been wondering the halls. His mind was rampant with alike thoughts and couldn't focus on his work. He's no better at healthily dealing with emotions, so instead of trying to manage and work through them, he decided to walk and let the thoughts drift off naturally.
He ended up passing through the gardens and saw you there, sitting on the bench. He didn't pay much mind at first, instead quickening his pace since he wanted minimal interaction in his avoidant state.
But you weren't moving. Barely blinking. You were typically a bit more on the hyperactive side. He wasn't used to such a… phlegmatic stance from you.
The more he looked, the more he saw the barely-there glaze in your eyes.
Bi-Han may not have the greatest grip on emotions but he could identify them in another person. He found himself approaching you. He eventually sat beside you, though you didn't seem to notice right away.
You didn't state anything, but he seemed to know where your thoughts were,; as if yours and his mind were intertwining. It's like he heard your unbridled emotions you never spoke to, ones he knew. It gave him a reason to sit and reflect.
As he stayed, he looked to you. He thought to the past you shared. About how much had changed, and how much older you were now. It was something he never took the time to think about, but your silence was so off-kilter that it made you seem too old. Too hurt and scarred for your age. He never would admit that he preferred your normal persona to this absent visage of you.
But mostly, he didn't want you to be like him. To become what he was, vacant and distant; the byproduct of his father's teachings. It didn't suit you.
Your eyes blinked then, like you heard his rampant thought. A gleam shone in them, even if it was faint. You moved for the first in quite some time. You met each other's eyes and there was an understanding there. As if your eyes could speak the memories that haunted you, as if they were displaying each of your younger selves that you both hid away, and still hid deep inside that stayed sheltered.
Your thoughts were between your father and life before the Lin Kuei. You had never even found solace in Bi-Han's father, either. There was a mutual estranged relationships there.
But the reciprocal bond had subjected you both to an understanding of the other. He could speak with his eyes and you could speak with yours, with no need for words. There would be no need to display emotions you both hid. The volumes your eyes spoke were parallel to each other's suffering. You were in sync to each other without having your problems being exactly the same.
You saw how Bi-Han never accepted his father's teachings. How he grew indifferent to them, and seemed outcasted by his father. It was why he wanted to break tradition, and it seemed only you had noticed that. Only you respected that. And that brought solace to him; a peace he could not find in anyone else.
You then moved closer to him, just a bit. Just until both of your arms would press against each other. It was ever subtle, but it was an evident sign of trust. Of comfort. For both you and him.
Bi-Han's eyes would follow the movement. It was a simple gesture, but it resonated within him. He was devoid to expression, but even he could be affected by such a simple gesticulation. And yours were one he could never deny. One he could feel at ease with.
It was a elusive display that you both cared for each other, just not in an expressive way.
He would stay with you then, until you felt better. Until you gained yourself again, or even just a small fragment. He didn't care how long it would take. There weren't many words to say, even less that needed to be spoken.
You stayed alone in the garden together, in each other's mutual comfort of each other and that was enough for the both of you. To be vulnerable with each other yet still maintain a front. You both saw past each other's exterior. You were one of the same.
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evelhak · 2 months
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[requests closed]
Okay, my KnB mutuals, friends and strangers alike, the day has come.
I'll tag some people off the top of my head, because then I don't get to secretly wish no one saw this, so I would be off the hook. @lylakoi @vespersposts @active-mind-15 @ni-kol-koru @misfitmiska @myndless88 @kurokonobrainrot @japeneselunchtimerush @shutokushintaro @kucho04 @deargravity @raspberrylix
Whether you're tagged or not is actually inconsequential for the rest of the post.
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I never thought of doing events for hitting any follower count, EXCEPT I told myself a long time ago that
once I have 1111 followers (only because I will realistically never have 11 111) I will do something stupid in the spirit of this string of numbers.
In other words
✨I welcome you all to torture me✨
(if you want.)
Now is your chance to ask someone to do anything you want.
To write any fic, draw any fan art, or create any other type of fan content you want (edits and AMVs count too, in fact, if you tell me to bake a cake or knit a scarf with your idea, I will do it) and you may be as mean about it as you wish. Complete disregard for my feelings is encouraged.
I'm not saying you have to be intentionally sadistic about it, that's not the point, the point is that you get to do what you please, whether it makes me suffer or not.
Do you have an idea you wanted to make but didn't dare because you feared fandom hate? I'll take the hit.
Want me to write about a ship I love cheating on each other? I'll do it.
Want me to draw a ship I hate, doing something shippy? Name the ship.
Is there an AU you want to see? There's a good chance I will squirm through it, but squirm I shall.
Have a particularly gross headcanon you've wanted to see but didn't dare to make it?
You get the idea.
(Of course, how much you know about my likes and dislikes depends on how long you've known me, but since the point isn't really to ask me to do what I hate, it's for you to get the total freedom of not caring about the preferences of the person you're requesting something from, don't get hung up on that.)
For this one time, and one time only, I am your daredevil, I am your genie in the bottle.
Your rules are simple:
if you want, ask me to create anything you wish, give me your most selfish or egotistical KnB desire
you can be as vague or as detailed as you want
don't go easy on me, don't tone it down because you want to spare me
if you're wondering if you can request something the answer is yes
however if your most selfish desire is a sketch of some characters on a picnic then that is exactly right, you don't need to shock anyone on purpose, you can ask for anything that is true to you
My rules are:
I am not allowed to complete a request I hate in the easiest way I can imagine, my goal is to transform that hate into love
I must approach everyone's ships and headcanons and visions as seriously and with as much love as I would my own
the only occasion I will not do something is if it significantly impacts my mental health for the worse
My brain is ridiculously one track, and super attached to my own headcanons, my one vision for everything, so believe me when I say this could easily get hard for me. That's the point. Obviously I'm doing this for shits and giggles, but the underlying drive is also to give myself some tough love and Spartan treatment, for character building. Let's smash my One True Headcanon brain (for a moment, before I go right back to my preferences, hopefully taking something valuable and more permanent with me from the experience).
I will keep this open for three days. If I get too many requests, I will draw five out of a hat, or something. : D I'll finish them during 2024.
Like I said, I didn't tag anyone on purpose or leave anyone out on purpose so no matter how you pass by this post you're free to do as you please with it or ignore it, obviously. Anons are also fine, by the way.
(If you feel like inviting more chances for me to potentially cry, reblogging is fine too.)
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charbles · 6 months
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Hi everyone! My name is Charlie! I'm 20 years old!! I go by ANY pronouns!
I'm here to post about FNAF and make friends >:]
I have a tendency to spam reblog my mutuals if I see their work, i am not at all sorry for that, My mutuals are LOVELY PEOPLE. I WILL NOT BE SWAYED ON THIS >:[
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OK, Hi! these are very important! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read them! PLEASE!!!
Please do not send me NSFW/NSFW related asks, They make me really uncomfortable and I know I have minors following me, so I do not want to expose them to that.
Please ask me before using my art and PLEASE credit me if you do!!
ABSOLUTELY BY NO CIRCUMSTANCES DO I ALLOW PROSHIPPING, LGBTQ+PHOBIA OR ANYTHING ALONG THOSE LINES.
If I think of more I will add more, If these rules and boundaries are not met, I will block you and i really don't like blocking people!! Anon hate/ Anon horny is NOT tolerated, You will be blocked on sight.
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I DO take art requests! Though I will most likely follow the design based off of the Fazbear Funland AU if I'm not given a direct design direction!
If a character is asked a question, I will most likely draw a response for that character! I think ask blogs are fun, so if that's what you're looking for, boy howdy do i have news for you :]
If you have a question for me or about the Fazbear funland Au then like go for it? Honestly I love talking and interacting with people, It's a lot of Fun!
I will sometimes pass questions to @galacticaldisaster if they have something to do with Fazbear Funland, specifically if its a character that he writes for!
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Fazbear Funland is an au and timeline rewrite made by myself and @galacticaldisaster which takes place after Pizzaria Simulator and entirely in a Theme-park managed by Fazbear Entertainment!
Starting off as a humble family business, the concept of dinner and entertainment was one that Fazbear Entertainment was not willing to let go of following a couple of the owner's "missteps". Refining robotics as we know it allowed them to create a truly safe and fun place for kids and grownups alike without the burden of being reminded of just what foundation this entertainment empire was built off of; a madman who lost himself in grief, his lunatic son, and his pyromaniac business partner.
The past having been watered down to mere stories, they've been turned into selling points for the guests to this theme park, with only a select few believing in them; fun-hating conspiracy theorists… or fanatics who will do anything to learn the full story…
We Assure you! Nothing will catch on fire this time! :]
ᶠᵃᶻᵇᵉᵃʳ ᴱⁿᵗᵉʳᵗᵃᶦⁿᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᶦˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢᶦᵇˡᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃⁿʸ ᵐᶦˢˢᶦⁿᵍ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿˢ ᵒʳ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ.
Summary written by @galacticaldisaster, please enjoy this Advertisement by Faz ent themselves
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My Art Tag -> #myart , #my art
Mutual Tag -> #[name of mutie] moment
My Talking Tag -> #charlie chats
AU Tags -> #fazbear funland , #funland database
Anon tags -> #Anon Q, #Anon HC , #Anon req [i forget to add these alot oops]
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meedough · 2 years
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Hi(◕ᴗ◕✿) i really liked THIS TT can u write a 127 one with this concept?
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of course i can anon anything for you - mido <3
perv! nct127
warnings: smut, possible non- con themes, yandere behavior , harder kinks , threesomes , mutual masturbation, you’re a camgirl in one (you get extra points if you understand the username :) ), petnames (kitten, puppy, like literally petnames), somnophilia 
a/n i go a lil crazy with this one im sorry , anyone who reads and enjoys my content i just want you all to know that i write a lot of harder kinks and if you're not comfortable with that please just keep reading elsewhere!
i took a slightly different approach to 127 neos versus the dreamies i hope its still enjoyable. please leave some feed back in my inbox after too !
also this one is significantly longer than the dream vers (i just feel like i can write more abt the older neos )
thanks for reading
- mido ^.^
taeil: you and taeil have been friends ever since highschool. that's where his love for you started.  your hair was long and he loved it so much catching whiffs of your hair when he chased you around your front yard or when you sat in his lap. his infatuation with you only grew deeper when you both moved in with each other for university.  now taeil had access to everything he wanted your pillows had your scent all over them, your clothes and you. when you're out at lectures taeil is in your bed with his face buried in your sheets humping your pillows leaving him cum on anything that smells you. his favorite thing of yours to cum on are your silk scrunchies :)
"fuck you smell so good, you're mine"
johnny: your long time boyfriend johnny met after you literally bumped into each in front of a cafe. you were going in and he was coming out neither of you paid attention to the door and a fateful collision happened. below his tall stature he saw your eyes staring back up at him. every time you both had sex he loves seeing your eyes roll back into your head while he's pounding into you, your eyes watering while he fucks your mouth. johnny wants to see your eyes begging for him all the time. he'll tease you innocently throughout the day to see your eyes get glossy. it's enough to get his cock twitching in his jeans. alike a lot of his perverted friends he has a collection of photos for when you two are apart. his collection consists of pictures of your tear-streaked cheek after him fucking your face, videos of him cumming down your throat and a video he visits often is a night that he invited jaehyun over and its you trying to take both his cock and jaehyun's cock in your mouth at once.
"look at her jae, you really think you can fit both in your mouth princess?"
taeyong: you and taeyong have been working together on your groups album. you both would produce and bounce ideas off each other and taeyong was gracious enough to draw your group's album cover. you both stayed after hours working tirelessly on the album, whilst taking a nap on the couch taeyong would face you and palm himself through his sweats watching your sleeping figure. he can't control himself when you're in his presence. while your in the booth recording he'd be jerking off while monitoring your vocals. his mind wanders and wonders if you sound as angelic while his cock is filling you up. taeyong needs reference photos to draw; so he asks you to take a few photos of yourself in fairly suggestive photos but you pay no mind since its for the album. drawing mockups of your body is taeyong's favorite pastime; you in lingerie, sex positions his favorite naked. he often jerks off and cums all over his drawings of you but its just an excuse so he gets to draw more pictures of you.
"y/n can you sing that line again just in a slightly higher and breathier tone?"
doyoung: you and doyoung were known as the cute neighbourhood kids hopefully to grow up and get together. one summer your parents had business to tend to a few towns over. so your parents tasked doyoung with taking care of you. no one else would be better for the job right? he dropped in later than normal one night because of work and he heard sounds of tossing and turning expecting its you getting comfortable in bed. he quietly stashes the groceries he got for you in the fridge before making his way quietly up the stairs. your room is dimly lit with pink led lights and as doyoung slowly opens the door just to peer in on you. you’re sat in front of your laptop bouncing on a pink dildo to match the lights in your room. your soft moans fill the room alongside the sound of donations. “cherrybunnyblossom, can you flip over and show us your ass while you fuck your pussy?” you read out. doyoung leaves promptly with the information he needs. he goes home and searches you up himself on the camgirl website. he lives out his nastiest fantasies with you online, he jerks himself off watching you under his command. you always find yourself getting both your holes while you fuck your own fingers in and out of your mouth, spit spilling out of your mouth and covering your fingers.  
mki.yoodnu: how does the purple one feel inside of you? 
cherrybunnyblossom: it feels great daddy thank you 
jaehyun: you and jaehyun got together after johnny and his girlfriend got together. she had introduced you to her boyfriend's friends and you were smitten. you had thought that jaehyun was just a fairly reserved guy, he was cute when he wanted to be an overall sweet guy. while getting ready for bed one he peers into the closet calmly saying "babe, john says he wants to join us for a night", you stare back at him blankly trying to register what he's said to you. he pushes softly against the wall, massaging your tits and pressing himself into you. his cock presses into your back, slowly getting harder while he explains what him and johnny want to do to you. jae likes to take a backseat. he enjoys watching you get fucked by someone he calls a close friend.
"just one night hun, you'd look so beautiful with two cocks pumping you full."
yuta: you and yuta have a interesting relationship dynamic, you both see each other around the company and exchange greetings sweetly complimenting each other and then you're hidden in the dark corners of practice rooms on the floor from across masturbating watching each other. two rules of your relationships: firstly being no emotions involved purely sexual and finally no touching each other. your relationship was not exclusive to each other meaning you both were able to see other people. yuta only wanted you to himself so him finding out that you were having sexual relations with other guys. he'd peer in on your sexual escapade, seeing the way that other men handle you knowing that he can do better. he saw how you moaned louder when he toyed with your clit and how your voice faltered when he stopped. yuta cock strains, he's jealous that this random man passing through the company for the day gets to fuck you.
"he doesn't know how to make you feel good like i do sweetheart, give it up you know we should fuck"
jungwoo: your puppy like boyfriend knows no limits when it comes to your sex life. you always catch him jerking off while you’re home it makes you question what goes on while you’re not home. it’ll always end with your boyfriends cock in your mouth and his hands buried in your hair.  many occasions you’re wearing a skirt or a crop top that show off the small of your back. he comes over and grinds himself into your back. he has this sort of fixation with your hair; he loves running his fingers through it, its soft it smells nice and he loves the way it looks when his hands are in it. you tease him all the time telling him that he’s energetic like a puppy and he laughs alongside you until you realize his cock is pressing into you. jungwoo likes it when you’re on your knees with your tongue out like his own personal puppy. he always tells you while softly stroking your hair that he thinks you’re the cutest when you’re begging for him to fuck you harder. 
“such a good little puppy aren’t you baby”
mark: your shy boy mark could never hide how horny he got when he was with you. you’d hug him and his cock would be twitching in his pants. it was time for your weekly date night and this week you suggested to stay in and watch some movies. mark had placed you in his lap to watch the movie. for the most part he was doing fine until you fell asleep on top of him. his hands rubbed small circles on your stomach before moving up to cup your tits under your top. something about doing something so nasty to his sleeping girlfriend made him incredibly horny. he bucked his hips into clothed ass essentially fucking you with your clothes on while he played with your nipple pinching them ever so often and you’d let out soft moans. he left one hand on tits while the other pushed past the waistband of your shorts to slide a few fingers inside you. 
“you even take me so well while you’re sleeping”
haechan: found on 00s vers of my perv! series 
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bimrsadler · 11 months
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could you do an f!reader who is wealthy and actually decides to become patron to the gang, letting them stay at their manor on the outskirts of Saint Denis? she asks for a personal guard in turn, which she asks High Honor Arthur to fill the role of. She's tiny, petite even (like 4'9"-ish) and very femme but with a sharp, elegant tongue.
she likes to hang out with Arthur and show him the wealthy side of life while he shows her the lifestyle of being out in the country. All the tensions and staring of a rich, unmarried lady out with a rugged outlaw of man? Perfect bait. 👀
Fluffy or NSFW or just sexual tension is okay! Feel free to go all kinds of ways with this if you do take the rq, ty!! Love your work!!
Fortune Favors the Bold
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Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female reader
Word count: 4,600
Warnings/tags: nsft, use of guns/light violence, high honor Arthur, fluff, mutual pining, unprotected piv, dirty talk, size difference, use of pet names
Notes: you gave me a lot to work with anon so I decided to just have fun and make this a longer one, sorry it took a bit but I hope it’s what you were looking for!
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Walking around Saint Denis it was hard not to feel eyes on you wherever you went, you were an odd couple after all.
Couple. It wasn’t a word you ever thought you’d use to describe you and Arthur Morgan. Truthfully you weren’t an actual couple; not in the literal sense anyway, but you did enjoy a partnership of sorts and it felt comfortable enough to call him your friend.
As you explored the streets together your differences could not be any clearer, the sun glinted off the gold around your neck while the only gleam on Arthur was off the cold steel of his revolver.
An air of grace and elegance followed you wherever you went, wealth represented in your high end dresses.
The man at your side the complete opposite.
An air of intimidation and ruggedness followed Arthur, worn clothing indicative of his rough lifestyle.
And of everything about him you found yourself inexplicably drawn to, it was the fact that he towered over you that was most alluring.
Being of high status and short stature — you were an easy target. Meeting the Van der Linde gang for the first time was nerve wracking to say the least, knowing that if they wanted to harm you they could in no time.
But the man who introduced himself as Arthur Callahan with the badge on his vest was clearly not a real deputy, and knowing of the Grays and Braithwaites; you weren’t particularly upset at their scheming.
Before Arthur and Dutch could warn you not to tell anyone — you proposed working together instead.
While they were no doubt dangerous criminals, they were more understanding than you expected and most of the gang fun to be around. Leery of you at first, they knew it was advantageous to have someone of your status on their side, and found there was more to you than how you presented on the outside.
While your family was away, you offered the manor as a safe-house for the gang and they gave you Arthur in return. It would take a lot of bold stupidity to make an attempt on you when a man like him was by your side.
It wasn’t unusual to get curious men asking what a woman like you was doing with a man like Arthur, to which you would warn them to mind their own business. And if they were more brash than curious? Well it didn’t take long for them to learn their mistake when Arthur came over.
Not everyone looked at Arthur like he didn’t belong though. Outlaw or not, he was arrestingly attractive; pulling in wandering eyes from the upper and lower class alike.
People always seemed pleasantly surprised at how well mannered he was as well, greeting passerby’s with a hat tip and a “ma’am,” listening to strangers stories and stopping to pet street dogs. Really since you’d met — he was primarily only a threat to those who were a threat to you.
The two of you grew curious about each other, with your lifestyles and upbringings being so different. Everything about the gang was exciting to you and you cautiously wanted to explore it. Arthur had a harder time admitting he was interested in what your side of life had to offer and felt uncomfortable with how foreign it felt.
But you caught him eyeing the beautiful things in your home, letting his fingertips glide along the piano keys, smirking at the expensive weapons mounted and fine whiskies.
It was the art that he took a particular interest in however. He was shy about it at first, gazing at the framed paintings on the walls wanting to know more about them but too nervous to inquire.
So you would stand beside him and tell him the history of it, of the artist, as he stood scratching his beard intently listening.
“Hmm,” he’d mumble dryly — trying to downplay his curiosity but giving himself away by quickly pointing to the one beside it, “and how ’bout this one?”
Arthur never felt fully comfortable in fancier settings but you loved bringing him to dinners and plays with you. When he lost himself in the dishes and dramas meant for the higher class, he fully enjoyed himself.
You never felt at ease in those situations either though, always needing to show a performative smile and appear proper was exhausting. So after the parties you would surprise Arthur by asking him to take you to a saloon or maybe just a stroll in the woods, and he was more than happy to oblige.
Arthur was hesitant when you asked to take trips with him however; worried you didn’t understand what you were getting into.
“No offense Miss but I don’t think ya know what yer askin’.”
“I may be rich but I’m not dumb — Mister.” You said with a sarcastic hiss. “I’d like to learn.”
Arthur rolled his eyes and agreed reluctantly, clearly assuming you would just be deadweight.
But you were a quick learner, and you enjoyed it.
It was exhilarating learning to shoot and skin, and much to Arthur’s surprise you had no qualms about looting with him or being the lookout on a job.
Your favorite nights however were the ones under the stars and beside the crackling fire. You would take the sounds of the slow moving river and rustling pines over the ramblings of relatives whose only talking points were property prices and fine China, any day.
A truth you were anxiously coming to terms with was the fact that you also loved all of this because of Arthur. You could spend hours listening to the husky timbre of his voice excitedly tell you the stories that only a Hell-raising outlaw could.
And yet he was just as enrapturing while sketching quietly or baby-talking his horse as he brushed and fed it.
This evening in Saint Denis was the culmination of all of those nights of curiosity and company.
You had woken up early that morning, Arthur journaling on the couch as you approached him.
“I have an idea cowboy.”
He closed his journal and raised an eyebrow.
“You guys still need money right? Well you and I could make a killing in Saint Denis…”
Arthur sighed and closed his journal, “meanin’?”
“Without you on my arm I’m an easy target in the wrong part of town. You could hang back and I could just draw them out,” you raised your eyebrows excitedly.
Arthur stood up waving his arms in the air, “absolutely not. You crazy woman?!”
“First of all, we would make a good team. Second, do not call me ‘woman’.��
Arthur seemed to take your scolding to heart, shoulders slumping slightly. “Sorry…”
Walking over to you with a softer tone he continued, “just wouldn’t forgive myself if somethin’ happened to ya. I know yer capable but…these things can be unpredictable.”
“Maybe so, but I trust you. Now c’mon Arthur, live a little,” you teased with a wink.
That was all it took, though he continued complaining about going against his better judgment.
Dolling yourself up in your finest that evening, you stood in front of the mirror — scared and excited.
Arthur came in slowly after a delicate knock. In the reflection you caught him pausing at the sight of you, eyes roaming and expression softening.
“You uh…ya ready?”
“Almost, I just…can’t get this necklace to clasp,” you laughed nervously.
“Oh uh…well lemme help then…”
Arthur’s boots were heavy on the floor but his approach was slow and considerate. Handing him the necklace, he draped it around your front, cold metal brushing against you.
The combination of his warm and broad chest hovering against your back with his calloused fingertips ghosting along the skin of your neck, brought forth goosebumps you hoped he wouldn’t notice.
Watching in the reflection, a slight tremble kept him from joining the two sides of the necklace. “Damn fingers are too big,” he chuckled bashfully.
“It’s okay,” you spoke quietly with a reassuring smile.
Finally it clasped together, the emerald jewel coming to a rest at the swell of your cleavage. Before Arthur stepped back, his knuckles lingered on the nape of your neck as he dragged a fingertip along the golden filigree.
“So…would you steal this from me Arthur?”
“Well, you’d definitely catch my attention,” he said warmly before stepping back.
Trying not to read into Arthur’s response, you absentmindedly adjusted in front of the mirror. “Haven’t worn this dress yet, wasn’t sure if I liked it…”
“Why? Y’look beautiful,” Arthur stated.
You felt a flutter spread in your chest and stomach while watching him fumble with his gunbelt in the mirror.
“I uh,” he cleared his throat and motioned toward the door, “we should get goin’.”
All eyes were on you as your large bodyguard walked protectively by your side. You meandered through the city waiting for nightfall, listening to the street performers and perusing the shop windows.
As the sun dipped below the horizon you and Arthur made your way behind the saloon.
“Now you catch someone’s eye ‘n bring ‘em out here,” Arthur pointed to the dark of the alleyway, “I’ll be right down there.”
Clasping your shoulder with his bear paw of a hand he implored, “please be careful.”
“Always am Mr. Morgan,” you winked with a confident smile though your heart was racing.
You watched as he concealed the lower half of his face with a black bandana, leaving only his eyes to be seen under the wide brim of his hat.
Only in the faint light of the streetlamp did you realize that Arthur’s eyes were the same shade as the jewel around your neck. Your heart was pounding for more reasons than one.
The night wore on with the usual bothering from drunk and foolish men — mostly harmless, buying you drinks (that you only pretended to sip) and asking why you were alone.
You fiddled with your necklace and purse, making sure to draw any attention from types you wouldn’t want noticing.
And it did. A dirty and angry looking man in the corner caught your eye. He wasn’t drunk and he had been watching you closely for most of the night.
As the music and clamoring picked up in pace and volume you headed toward the swinging doors in the back; sure enough he followed in your peripheral.
Each second as you made your way into the alley became more and more urgent, heart pounding and sweat dripping while you kept your hand close to your purse — should you need to use the knife Arthur gifted you.
The man closed in quickly, not touching you yet but attempting to intimidate with his presence. “Better stop right there girl…”
Turning around slowly you looked at your mark. He was big — but not as big as Arthur.
“Ain’t anyone teach you not to be alone in places like this?” He sneered with an air of superiority.
You watched Arthur’s bulky frame come into view from behind the shadows, “who says I’m alone?”
The gun in Arthur’s hand pressed to the man’s temple, “ain’t anyone ever teach you to be a gentleman?”
Arthur chuckled darkly, “now…I’m gonna hand that gun in yer holster to the fine lady,” he pressed the revolver harder into the man’s head, making him flinch. “— an’ if ya try anything I’ll blow yer goddamn head off.”
Arthur’s voice was deep and dark and almost made you feel bad for the man, but mostly it stirred something within you.
After the gun was given to you, Arthur began rummaging through the pockets to find money and trinkets.
You knew what the two of you were doing wasn’t right either and Arthur was a bad man, but he was good to you and there was goodness inside of him.
And at that moment? Electricity surged through every inch of your body with exhilaration and you had trouble finding sympathy for a man who would corner a woman by herself.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” The reality of the situation hit hard as a police officer stopped at the end of the alleyway — clearly seeing that it was Arthur robbing the man.
“Oh thank God you’re here officer!” You threw a shaking hand up to play the victim, “please help us!”
You felt terrible for the brief panic in Arthur’s darting eyes as he seemed unsure if you were betraying him.
It didn’t last though. Using your other hand you quickly pointed the gun you kept hidden from view and fired above the officers head.
Arthur understanding that it was a way to buy time, hit the man with the butt of his gun in an attempt to knock him out.
Swiftly grabbing your wrist he pulled you through the saloon, the drunk and confused patrons slowing down the cop in pursuit.
“The hell was that?!” Arthur demanded under his breath.
“Me trying to save our skins — you’re welcome!”
“I’ll thank ya if we make it outta here alive,” Arthur taunted as he found the closest horse to steal. He pulled you with no effort at all, your feet leaving the ground in the blink of an eye.
You wrapped an arm around Arthur’s tight core and pointed the gun behind you with the other, the galloping horse keeping you from a steady aim.
“Arthur where are we going?!”
“Jus’ hold on I’ll figure it out!”
Approaching a bridge you noticed that the view was partly obscured by willow trees, making it a good time as any to throw off the lawman.
Aiming to the best of your ability you shot behind you again, hoping to stall and not harm him. At that moment Arthur took a hard right into the grass and through the trees.
A proper lady’s place was not on the back of a horse with a wanted man, nor was it in a seedy alleyway with bad intentions. But there was nowhere else you wanted to be.
Nestling the gun in the saddlebag, you clung tightly to Arthur’s midsection and buried your face between his shoulder blades.
He was warm and strong and the wind in your hair cooler now, every sense heightened from the rush surging through you.
Slowing to a trot Arthur pulled to a grassy clearing and stopped. “Think we made it…”
He dismounted and grabbed you by the waist to help you do the same, bodies flush as your feet hit the ground.
“Wasn’t exactly a perfect heist but…you handled yerself well sweetheart.”
Arthur’s arms still hovered around you loosely as he spoke beneath his bandanna. His eyes searched yours as you brought your fingertips to his face.
Slowly, you removed what kept his lips from you and ran your thumb along his stubbled cheek. You admired the chestnut locks that fell carelessly along his brow and the way his broad chest heaved at your touch. All you wanted to do was kiss him and never stop kissing him.
“I feel like I could do anything right now Arthur…”
A smirk formed at the corner of his lips with an expectant raise of his eyebrows. Standing on your tiptoes your brought his face to yours for a slow, delicate kiss.
Though he looked dumbstruck and returned the gesture, he pulled back for a moment. “I want this but…I’m no good for ya girl. I’m only good at fightin’ and robbin’…you know that.”
“Bullshit Arthur.” The look on his face was priceless, seemingly more shocked to hear you swear despite just seeing you shoot at the law.
“Bullshit. You have goodness in you too and I’m a grown woman who knows what she wants.” Arthur watched you in disbelief.
“You’re good at protecting me and the way you touch me is kind and it makes me feel safe. I want you to keep touching me like that Arthur…”
A flicker of pride flashed on his face. The only time you could tell Arthur felt good about himself was when he helped others and he especially took a shine to helping you. Being a protector let him realize he was capable of being good at more than just robbing and fighting.
“Fair enough,” he said bringing you back in his embrace. “But I need to hear ya say it.”
“I want this Arthur, you have no idea,” your words were breathy and impatient.
His grip on you was tender but somehow still powerful despite not using any of his real strength. You felt positively tiny in his arms.
His mouth opened more for you, allowing curious flicks of your tongue on his; light whimpers combining. Hands began moving more hungrily — yours down his chest and his up your thigh.
Months prior you might have felt shame at the ache between your legs and the desire urging your hips forward; but now all you cared about was Arthur dousing that fire.
“Sweetheart it shouldn’t be like this…”
Your heart dropped, unsure of where he was going with that statement. “Wh— what do you mean?”
“Well I—look…” Arthur stuttered, trying to find the right words with a reddening face. “You deserve better’n layin’ in some grass in the woods like this.”
He paused to think and fiddle with his suspenders before continuing, “least lemme take ya back to the manor. Wanna make it, y’know…proper.”
You considered telling Arthur that you wanted it here, still riding the high of the night; being outside after barely escaping would only add to the thrill.
But Arthur didn’t want that. He wanted to treat you special and give you comfort and patience. He didn’t need to be the rugged outlaw anymore that night, he just needed to be your suitor.
You already got to play cops and robbers, maybe it was his turn to play the gentleman.
Sighing with relief you took Arthur’s hand, “well just so you know, here would be just fine with me.” Planting a reassuring kiss on his cheek you headed toward the horse, “but you can take me home.”
Arthur took a longer, more secluded route through the woods in case someone was still looking for you.
It wasn’t easy being patient, the tension palpable and the anticipation exquisite.
As you lurched forward with the horses gait you replayed the kiss and wandering hands in your mind.
You couldn’t wait to unbutton his shirt, to feel the curve of his muscle, to make him whine with the touch of your fingertips, and God you couldn’t wait to feel his on you.
You wanted him to squeeze you and mark you in every intimate place that was usually kept hidden. To thrust and curl and fill all of you.
Positioning yourself higher on the saddle you let your hands roam along his waistline and kissed the curve where his neck met his shoulder.
Arthur leaned his head, allowing you to kiss and nip at more of his sensitive skin. He responded with his rough hand grasping your calf. Ever so slowly it pushed up your dress and glided along your thigh.
Your hips instinctively rolled forward to the small of his back, Arthur kneading the fat of your thigh as your wetness grew.
It really wasn’t easy being patient.
You keened, “how much longer baby?”
“Jesus,” Arthur sighed while rolling his own hips at the air. “Gonna be there soon.”
“Tell me what you’re gonna do to me Arthur…”
“’M’gonna take off that dress you look so goddamn gorgeous in and feel how soft y’are.”
“Gonna feel how soft I am everywhere?” You teased with a light bite to his ear.
Arthur grunted a yes, “gonna part them pretty legs and make ya feel good darlin’. You gonna be good’n wet for me?”
“Oh you could sink into me right this second Arthur.”
“My God girl,” Arthur said taken aback. “Never thought I’d hear ya talkin’ like that…”
“I’m full of surprises.” You snaked your hand down to his lap, lightly ghosting over his straining manhood. “And I see you’re ready for me.”
Arthur shuddered with a groan, “painfully so.”
Laughing together you continued teasing touches and lustful whispers until the manor came into view.
Arthur sent the horse off and though it was late, the two of you snuck in should any of the gang still be up.
As the doors of the bedroom closed behind you, Arthur lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist. Gently pressing you to a wall your kisses were passionate and rutting slow.
Carrying you over to the bed, Arthur sat you at the edge and positioned himself behind.
Though they trembled slightly with nerves, he moved with unhurried and adept hands; carefully untying and undoing each bit of your dress and corset.
Despite the prior buildup and desperation, Arthur worked with incredible consideration and care — making sure not to harm your dress and kissing and caressing all newly exposed skin.
As the last of the confines on your upper body fell down your shoulders, Arthur massaged a breast in each hand from behind, kissing your neck and whispering praises in your ears.
Moving to the floor he knelt in front of you, slowly rolling your stockings off each leg and kissing down your inner thighs as he did.
Bare before him you felt vulnerable and exposed in a way you never had been. But Arthur wasn’t like anyone else you’d been with.
Standing up he took you in with an awestruck smile, “how the hell did I get so lucky?”
Moving to unbutton his shirt you mused, “I could ask you the same question.”
Giving him the same affection and attention, your lips and hands explored with purpose — making sure he understood you loved his scars and the hair that dusted his chest and trailed down his abdomen.
You watched as he stepped out of his pants, eager to take his throbbing length in your hand. But before you could, Arthur gently layed you down, moving the pillow under your head as he did.
Running his hand through your hair he gazed sweetly, “feelin’ okay beautiful?”
You nodded eagerly, pulling him down. Settling beside you his hand dipped down to your heat, sliding along your wet folds before pushing a finger in.
A drawn out whine escaped from your lungs, finally getting the touch you needed.
Arthur let out an amused chuckle before bringing his mouth to your breast, twirling his tongue along the stiff peak and sucking it in his mouth. All while working your inner walls.
“Arthur,” you mewled, suddenly overwhelmed at all of the wonderful sensation.
“S’okay sweet girl,” sitting up slightly Arthur used his free hand to move one of yours to your mound. “Show me how ya touch yerself.”
You rubbed circles on your swollen nub, slick with the arousal from Arthur’s pleasuring. Even just the featherlight touch was enough to push you closer as you clenched around his large digits.
Arthur observed you with lust blown eyes, “that’s right sweetheart, let’s getcha there.” His breath was hot against your neck as he cooed in your ear, “be a good girl for me…”
That was all it took for your gut to tighten as Arthur made his way back down to your breast, eagerly sucking between praises while you came around his fingers.
He didn’t remove himself from you until the last of the quivers left your legs and your panting settled. “That’s my girl…”
Gathering your senses and coming back to reality, you gently urged Arthur onto his back and moved to get on top. Straddling his much wider lap was almost a strain.
But the feeling of the underside of his cock as your wet folds glided over the twitching hardness, quickly made any strain forgotten.
Arthur’s hands grasped your hips as you sunk onto him, taking him into your core with needy moans.
He let out a shaky exhale and a whisper of your name while stilling your hips from moving, “jus’…stay like this for a second.”
Reaching up to run his thumb over your lip he smiled warmly, “this has to be the closest to heaven I’ll ever get.”
“Quite the smooth talker there Mr. Morgan.”
He laughed sweetly in response, “nah I ain’t smooth. Jus’ sayin’ what’s true.”
“Well either way,” you writhed slightly, “I think I can get you a little closer to heaven tonight…”
Placing your hands on Arthur’s sturdy chest you began bouncing on his cock, watching as he became a beautiful, whimpering mess beneath you.
There was a pride and thrill in making a tough, some would say brutish man like Arthur melt for you.
“C’mere princess,” Arthur pulled you down flush to him, your breasts pressed tightly to his upper chest as he wrapped his arms around you.
Kissing you with fervor he bucked up into your heat, his much bigger frame completely enveloping you.
“How’s this darlin’?”
“So—fuck, so good.”
“Love hearin’ you swear fer me…”
“Maybe,” you choked out between thrusts, “you should fuck me harder then.”
A primal groan expelled hot breath against your ear as Arthur picked up pace, his hand palming the swell of your ass as it shook with impact.
His substantial hand moved to cover the back of your head, lightly pulling your hair. “You take me so well sweetheart — God, so warm ’n tight.”
Every pump of Arthur’s cock hit a spot that had scarcely been stimulated before, slick dripping down your thighs as he did.
Arthur placed his fingers around your soaked opening, feeling as he pistoned in and out. “We’re makin’ a mess outta these expensive sheets.”
He tenderly placed his hand on your jaw to move your face towards his, “but you like that…dont’cha?”
His gravelly drawl was sex and sin.
Taking his thumb into your mouth you simply moaned a response as your pussy clenched around him.
“Yeah you do…good girl…”
Talking himself into a frenzy, taut muscle twitched and stiffened as he grew closer, legs kicking slightly with shallow breaths.
“Christ m’close,” Arthur choked out as his grip on you trembled.
Swiftly sitting up you hopped off and pumped his pulsing cock as he swore and gasped and gathered the sheets in his tight fists.
“That’s it handsome,” you stroked his flexing thigh while hot spend dripped down your knuckles and shot onto his tight stomach.
Arthur made a good call coming back to the manor; the comfort of the soft linens and silks certainly felt heavenly to your spent bodies.
The sight of him nude and blissful in your bed was something you’d carry with you as well, and you hoped he enjoyed the rare indulgence of comfort.
Propping himself on his elbow, Arthur eyed you with admiration. “Hell of a night.”
“Oh? That’s not just a regular night for you?” You joked with a light giggle.
“Robbin’ an idiot in an alleyway? Sometimes,” he shrugged playfully. “But this?” He leaned down to press his lips tightly to yours. “This ain’t.”
“Ya know darlin’, you ain’t gonna be able to show yer face around them lawmen again,” he realized with a laugh.
“To be honest, I think I’m growing weary of Saint Denis. Was actually hoping I might explore a little more of the world,” you paused to look at Arthur with a coy smile, “ya know?”
“Hmm, I might be able to help ya with that.”
Whether you really could leave and whether Arthur would trust your judgment in making that choice remained to be seen.
But he was happy in that moment and so were you. The two of you together was a paradox, and despite this — or maybe because of, it worked.
All that mattered was Arthur’s strong presence above you as he played with your necklace; the only thing left on your body.
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luveline · 1 year
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where I've been
Honestly! I know that the plagiarism (or too heavy inspiration) that's been happening for the last few months was accidental, but that doesn't stop it from making me feel sick to my stomach whenever I think about it. I'm so put off from writing, opening tumblr in general fills me with dread, worried I'll see another message about it. I don't know why I can't seem to get over it, I think it just cold honest truth sucks. I don't regret the way I handled things or anything like that, it's entirely over, and I don't resent anyone for it, but I just can't get over this gutted feeling I have when I think about it. The anxiety has been extreme.
I'm also insecure about my writing recently which feels so redundant like you're so wound up over people nabbing your style when you don't even like it — I know. I can't pretend to understand it. I feel like a fucking idiot pretty much every day over this and I'm so fed up and I miss writing and this community so much, I'm so embarrassed with myself for continuing to feel this way over old news
Plus a barrage of work and everconstant health issues (which are admittedly worse than my writing worries), I'm pretty much done. I feel so defeated and shitty and pathetic. I think about all the fic I've written and I feel sick because I worry I'm wasting myself and my efforts with whatever this hiccup is.
And I'm trying so hard to be kind to myself, taking all the right things and you know coming out the other side, taking care of myself again, keeping my journal optimistically.
I really don't know what my problem is. Hate comments I can't kick, extreme anxiety over my future, friends and family. I want to just be happy and come back to where I was and to stop crying over spilled milk. I NEVER want other peoples mistakes or actions to affect my relationship with writing but it's just felt a little too much. I hate that I've let anonymous messages and everything effect me so much.
I'm so sorry to all the people who've been checking in on me, friends and anons and mutuals alike, for not getting back to you, or for not reaching out to see how you're doing. I have no trouble admitting how in awe I am of the impossible kindness the majority of you possess, and this patience you have with me despite my being such a hot mess of awful. I really just hate myself so much for not being able to shake how I feel, I'm really sorry for anyone who's felt unhappy with me these couple of weeks, and I really hope I can do better by you all and get it together
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skeelly · 3 months
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name your top 5 mutals and tell me why you love them
hi anon. ty i've been wanting to do this but this is hard ah
im excluding @moonlightt444 again cause ik her irl
@mqstermindswift you are literally the best person ever. i love you very mucchhh!! thank you for literally existing. i can't imagine tumblr without you, infact i can't imagine life with you. I'm proud of you in everything you do. ilyy. and omg quason, literally, if you feel that no one in the world is proud of you, always remember i am. i support you in everything (especially your delusions :3) you do as long as you lead with passion and kindness. i love you quason. im so happy to have you in my life
@reminiscentreader hi jas!! ilysmm! youre so cool and such an honest, kind and comforting person. i genuinely appreciate all your nice words and thank you for being so understanding lol. plus, the way we can talk about taylor and i know i won't be am imposition (or am i?) makes me feel appreciated. ily jasss!! #theworldneedsmorepeoplelikejas
@nqds NADS. ilyy! you're so funny, you make my day a little brighter everytime. thank you so much for being a lovely friend and mutual. i love everything you say lol. you're so funny. girl please never stop saying jokes and being you. and im genuinely so lucky to have you as my friend. oh and you're so incredibly talented wkjdowjs. i wanna be more like you. ilyy
@urbanflorals emmmmm! first of all, literally thank you for making me your maid of honor. omg. i love you. walker is so lucky to have youu. you're such an understanding person and you're so fun to talk to. thank you for being you. your stories make me happy lol. and can we talk about how absolutely talented you are?!?! omg. you're good at everything. i look up to you lol. ily!!
@sophiesonlinediary SOPHIEEE. hi sophieee. walker is also extremely lucky to have you like- i can't. i really hope you move on from walkers-look-alike cause.. walkers better. anyways, thank you for everything sophie! your kind words, trust in me, and literally just the fact that you understand me makes me feel so amazing and a little better whenever im feeling down oh and thank you for being honest. honest friends is a must and I'm glad you're my honest friend. LOVE YOU TO BITS and i need to get you a nickname
HONORABLE MENTION
@myster3y I LOVE YOU SM. please remember i always have your back no matter what and you can ABSOLUTELY talk to me about anything. thank you for being comfortable around me. i appreciate it! you're such a nice friend btw and those "bully's" know nothing. don't let them affect you and your well being. ily!! <3
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gyuwutaro · 10 months
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⚞ GYUWUTARO’S 500 FOLLOWERS MILESTONE EVENT !! ⚟
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hi, everyone !! lemme start by saying thank you !! thank you for those who have been with me even before i’ve had this blog !! & thank you to those who joined me as i figured shit out for this blog !! it truly means a lot to me !! thank you to my beloved mutuals for sticking around & putting up with (enabling) my antics <33 !! thank you to all my followers for your patience as i take ten years to write something T-T i appreciate y’all <33 !!
ANYWAYS !! i hit 500+ followers !! that’s insane !! 500+ people who enjoy my writing & weirdness ?? wack. in an attempt to thank you all, i will be doing two mini events !! a matchups + drabbles event & an insert event !! more about those below !! 
also, i have a specific sideblog for event related posts. i'll be posting everyone's entry results / responses there to avoid clogging this blog. so feel free to follow that blog if you want (you don’t have to) -> @ryomenace01
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⚞ BUT FIRST, THE RULES !! ⚟
obviously, you have to be a follower of mine. 
you cannot be a blank or ageless blog. blank blogs cannot be tagged & ageless blogs can fuck off tbh. 
you have to be 18 or older !! no minors allowed !! 
mutuals & non mutuals alike can participate in both events if they want to, just be sure to send two asks then !! one for each event.
the ask you send to enter, has to be off anon. if you don’t want your main tagged in your entry’s post, then tag the sideblog of yours that you do want tagged. your ask will not be posted btw.
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⚞ MATCHUP + DRABBLE EVENT ⚟
for this, i will match you with a character from either bllk, csm, jjk or bnha !! along with the matchup, you’ll also get a lil 500 word drabble involving you & your matchup !! mutuals can choose more than one fandom. non mutuals can choose only one fandom. regardless of how many fandoms a mutual chooses, you’ll only get one matchup. 
WHAT YOUR ASK NEEDS TO CONTAIN
01; fandom of your choice: bllk, csm, jjk or bnha
02; your name + pronouns
03; at least 3 things you like
04; at least 3 things you dislike
05; pick one: sfw or not.sfw or dark content (if you choose dc, gimme a lil example or 2 of dc you’re chill with)
06; do you want to be matched with a male or female character ?
07; any characters that you definitely don’t want to be matched with ?
08; a picrew or description of your appearance (i’d prefer you not sending selfies unless we’re mutuals) 
there’s no limit to how many of these i’ll be doing. and there’s no deadline. the deadline will be when i’m burnt out & can’t do anymore of these :) 
please be aware that i do not know all the characters in blue lock (i’m at ch97) & csm (i’m at ch114) yet. & for bnha i haven’t watched the latest season. 
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⚞ INSERT EVENT ⚟
for this event, i will be inserting you into a universe of your choosing !! either bnha, csm or jjk !!  non mutuals can choose only one fandom. mutuals can choose 1, 2 or all 3. but they’ll still only get one insert. 
WHAT YOU’LL GET WHEN CHOOSING BNHA
01; whether you’re a hero, villain or vigilante
02; your quirk (or lack thereof) & the powers you have involving it 
03; your rank (hero: whether you’re in the top 10 or not // villain/vigilante: s rank, b rank, etc)
04; your relationships with existing characters 
WHAT YOU’LL GET WHEN CHOOSING CSM
01; whether you’re a devil, fiend or devil hunter
02; what you’re the devil / fiend of // which devil’s you have contracts with
03; what your abilities / powers are
04; your relationships with existing characters (we’ll pretend everyone’s alive ok)
WHAT YOU’LL GET WHEN CHOOSING JJK
01; whether you’re a curse, curse user, cursed spirit or a jujutsu sorcerer
02; what you’re the curse of // your powers abilities
03; your grade (special, 1st, 2nd, etc)
04; your relationships with existing characters (we’ll pretend everyone’s alive ok)
WHAT YOUR ASK NEEDS TO CONTAIN
01; fandom of your choice: csm, jjk or bnha
02; your name + pronouns 
03; at least 3 things that excite you (not your likes, think of things that get your adrenaline going)
04; at least 3 things that you fear / hate
05; pick what you’d fall under: lawful good, lawful neutral, lawful evil, neutral good, true neutral, neutral evil, chaotic good, chaotic neutral or chaotic evil
06; whether you’re chill with a romantic relationship being given (if yes, pls gimme your sexuality & which characters are a big no-no)
07; whether you’re chill with being a sibling / family member of a canon character
08; whether you’re chill with having a not.sfw related power
09; a picrew or description of your appearance (i’d prefer you not sending selfies unless we’re mutuals) 
there’s no limit for this event. i’ll stop doing this one once i run out of ideas. 
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⚞ A LIL REMINDER ⚟
everyone can enter both events, but only once each !! 
send a separate ask for each entry !! 
please have patience with me as i have a job !! i probably won’t be starting these until mid june anyways. so take your time !! 
some picrews i recommend: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06.
tagging mutuals: @sukunas-toy, @little-feral-baby-moth, @gabzlovesu, @tired-biscuit, @aiztoru, @strawberrystepmom, @ilyluffy, @sixeyesgojo, @sugardaddyreo, @cwgyuutaro, @shunsuist, @thecowboykatsuki-anon, @saintokkotsu, @saintshiba, @em-plosion, @luvjiro, @princess-okkotsu, @clerdecat, @not-your-fucking-kacchan, @nappingwithyuuji, @cyancherub, @i4sgwr, @jotatetsuken, @sems-diarie, @bakugous-forehead, @utahimeow, @kemakoshume, @semisgroupie, @suyacho, @portfolio-of-dreams, @touyasdoll, @jctaro, @amachira, @ichxraaa, @arlertbabe, @aztecbrujeria, @nagumoan (loni we're not moots on my fic blog but i'm tagging you anyway). also, moots, lemme know if you'd rather not get tagged for these kinda posts.
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cosmicatta · 1 year
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"I could tell you about canon moments that made me love them, but I could also list a very extense number of things that I’ve just mostly made up myself, including the way I personally interpret those canon moments. "
I would love to hear about those !
Oh my oh my, I hope I don’t overwhelm you with my nonsense, anon, but here I go! ❤
One thing that has always interested me about lawlu is the fact that they seem to be opposites, yet you can draw so many parallels between them. In a way, they really are Sun and Moon, contrasting but, at the same time, more alike than you’d think at first, and inevitably nurturing each other. Together, they create this perfect balance of freedom and logic, light and darkness. They make each other grow, and I think this is especially noticeable from Law's perspective, because Luffy is exactly what he needs: honest, kind, blunt, and so loving. He gives Law the chance to be better and show who he really is, he insists that "Torao is a good guy" despite his reputation of being cruel and terrible. This is the chance that I don't think Law even believed himself to deserve. He probably still struggles to accept that kindness, seeing that he's so determined to deny their friendship, even after proving many times in the past that he cares about Luffy, through his actions.
Their relationship intrigued me from the very start, but what really sealed the deal for me was (unsurprisingly) the Dressrosa arc. You can see very clearly there how much they mean to each other, in many different levels:
They have both seen each other at their worst moments, and yet neither of them ever took that vulnerability as a proof of weakness. Quite the opposite, they see the other's pure strength and power in their resilience, and choose to act as support for that strength. Law was there to save Luffy’s life in Marineford, when he didn’t have his crew at his side, and Luffy is also there in what’s probably the most climatic point of Law’s journey, taking down Doflamingo. Luffy has said it before, that he owes Law his life, but at this point Law is also seeing Luffy as a savior. He is the ray of hope he’s desperately needed all his life, and that’s why this moment specifically hits so hard for me:
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Law knows he’s the one who “dragged Luffy into this fight”, even explicitly saying so himself. He tried to break the alliance in order to protect the Strawhats from Doflamingo, he feels responsible. But this scene here is much more than just basic decency or honor, this is him putting all of his trust in Luffy, allowing himself to have faith even if he says he doesn’t believe in anything anymore. This is so big for him that even Doflamingo notices, he seems surprised that Law can still trust someone so much. And he knows Law is important to Luffy too, which is why he mocks their friendship to rile Luffy up (see this post).
There is mutual trust, mutual understanding and mutual worry.
In this sense, I also really like the fact that they always stand as equals. Not only because they are both capitains of their own crews, meaning that there is no internal hierarchy between them, but also because that’s just how they treat each other. Even if they’re both kind of selfish and arrogant sometimes, they respect each other very deeply.
I don't know, I could go on for hours, I just think there's so much to say about their dynamics, they are so interesting together, the way they function as a duo is very unique within the series.
I will try to resist the urge to come back to this post to add more random thoughts because I don't want to be too intense :'') But thank you so much for this question, anon! ❤ I always love every opportunity I get to ramble about them!
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tropes-and-tales · 1 year
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Love-Struck
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December 17:  Cookies/Mug - Love at first sight (Horacio Carrillo x F!reader)
(From the winter prompts found here)
CW:  Talk of injuries (nothing graphic); the writer’s own thoughts on instant coffee; nothing but typos
Word Count:  1216
AN:  There is a sequel here!
AN2:  Requested by anon!
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Colonel Horacio Carrillo has been shot before.  Given his history of service with the Republic of Colombia and his latest role as the head of the Search Bloc, it’s not surprising.
He’s been shot before—twice, in fact—so he knows how it feels.  
The first bullet that found him hit his bulletproof vest, but the shot still hurt.  Took his breath away so sudden and fierce that for the span of several long seconds, he thought he’d never pull in air again.  And then the afterwards, the dark bruise that sprawled across his chest and made every move and breath a painful reminder of how close he came to dying.
The second bullet that found him hit his leg.  A clean shot, in and out, nothing major struck.  That had been a searing pain, a line of fire that streaked through the meat of his thigh.  Then the sizzle of the disinfectant at the clinic, the bee-stings of the needle as the nurse stitched him shut.  The recovery from that wound had been awful—the stretch and pull of each step as the stitches strained, the maddening itchiness as it healed.
If anyone ever told him that love at first sight felt like a combination of those two wounds, he wouldn’t have even deigned to respond.  A ridiculous concept, love at first sight.
Carrillo and his ex-wife hadn’t had love at first sight, not on either side of the equation.  It had been a mutually beneficial partnership with a fair amount of attraction that ceded to affection, which was a version of love, he supposed.  But it hadn’t been love at first sight for either of them.  
They’d been introduced by mutual friends, and mutual friends had sold them to each other.  
Horacio, the friends told Juliana, is a rising star in the government.  A good man with good principles.
Juliana, the friends told Horacio, is a steady woman who will help her husband succeed.  The sort of woman who can handle late nights, government glad-handing parties for very little recognition.
It had been a solid marriage until it wasn’t, and now Carrillo is alone again and even less convinced about the existence of love, let alone instant love, love at first sight.
Until he gets shot again.
It’s a stupid sentiment, but Carrillo will never be able to come up with a better analogy for the first moment he lays eyes on you.  It’s like getting shot.  It’s like all of those Valentine’s Day decorations always portrayed, like a fat, naked cherub fixed him in his sights and shot him square in the heart with his arrow.  
It feels just like getting shot.  The sudden, fierce loss of breath.  The searing line of pain.  The panicky way his heartbeat quickens, jumping against his sternum at the sudden danger.
Because that’s what it feels like—danger.  Something unknown and unexpected found him the moment his eyes land on you.
*****
It’s sweet of the guys to throw you a welcome party, though the more cynical part of you thinks it’s just an excuse to spring for better refreshments than the usual fare.  Actual good coffee, a tray of sugar cookies.  A real bacchanal.
You’ve worked with the DEA in enough countries to know that the U.S. government never springs for good coffee, even in a place like Colombia that is literally known for good coffee.  You figure that Maxwell House has a defense contract to supply the freeze-dried shit to people out in the field.
“Let me introduce you to some of the people you’ll be working with,” Murphy says, and he leads you around the room.  You clutch your mug of coffee and your napkin with a half-eaten sugar cookie and awkwardly juggle them as you shake hands with DEA and Search Bloc alike.  
You meet the women who listen to the spools of tape, the soldiers you’ll be working with.  You shake hands with Trujillo, who welcomes you to Colombia, asks where you’ve been before now.
“Oh, everywhere,” you reply.  “I did a spell in Panama, but I just got back from Johannesburg.  Short assignment there.”
Murphy stands beside you, listening, then jerks his head towards the other side of the room.
“C’mon.  You gotta meet the Colonel.”
You let your fellow agent lead you across the room, fumbling with your hands full of food and drink but awkwardly unsure where to put it down.  You look at the man Murphy takes you to:  broad-shouldered, dark hair short and neatly parted.  Dark eyes, serious face.
“Colonel, this is our newest agent,” Murphy says.  He turns to you and adds, “this is Colonel Carrillo, head of the Search Bloc.”
“I’ve heard the name, yes.”  You carefully balance the napkin with its half-eaten cookie across the top of your mug, then hold your hand out to the Colonel.
He seems…pissed.  He grumbles out his name, but he takes your hand gingerly in his own, gives you the weakest handshake you’ve ever had.  Which is strange—in your experience, these international partners always want to crush your hand as a show of strength.  Because you’re an American and a woman.  Two strikes in many of their books.
Then he releases your hand, and you see the way he drops it to his side, fingers spasming.  Like his first instinct is to wipe his hand against his thigh, your touch offensive to him, but good manners hold him back.
And then there’s an awkward beat of silence—no small talk from him, and Murphy seems cowed into silence too—so you finally nod and say something about looking forward to working with him, and then you turn away to find somewhere to toss out your trash.
“Sorry,” Murphy murmurs near your ear as you walk away.  “He’s a tough one, but he’s usually more polite.”
“It’s fine.”
“He works well with Javi and me.”
You glance at him.  “Probably because you’re men.”
“I’ll talk to—”
You find a bin, toss your sugar cookie away.  “It’s fine, really.  Not the first tough case I’ve worked with.  Just that much more incentive to catch Escobar and get out of the Colonel’s way, right?”
Murphy smiles.  “That’s a good way to think of it.”
You glance back at the Colonel, and you’re surprised to see him staring at you.  Intently, like he’s trying to figure out how you’ll irritate him.  How you’ll mess things up.  You’ve dealt with it before:  Americans have a reputation, and in your experience, men all over the world have less-than-charming ideas about women…
You turn back to Murphy.  “He’s glaring at me.”
“He gets better.  I promise.  He just needs a little time to get used to you.”
Another glance over your shoulder, another view of him staring at you.
“I don’t know if I want him to get used to me.  Doesn’t he play rough?  Let’s catch Pablo, like, tomorrow, okay?”
Murphy chuckles, jerks his thumb to where Peña is standing and chatting with another embassy worker.
“Let’s get you to friendlier waters for now, at least,” he says, and you let him lead you over to your other new partner, though your mind spins at the months ahead of you—working with the Colonel, waiting for him to get used to you.
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mightymizora · 2 months
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Hey, it’s been awhile! I’m sorry your personal life has been tumultuous. My dad’s favorite advice to give in hard times was ‘this too shall pass.’ It always pissed me off, but he was, annoyingly, correct.
Now isn’t forever.
Anyhow… favorite head-canons…
Lae’zel
Githyanki are supreme predators. Their hearing and eyesight is far above a human’s but, as a result, there have been some evolutionary trade-offs. Their sense of smell is abysmal, and they don’t have any sweetness receptors on their tongues.
No two Giths’ spots are alike. In the Astral Sea, these spots glow on a wavelength of light that most other species can’t see. It’s a special bioluminescence just for them.
Lae’zel was much smaller than others in her clutch, and so she had to work twice as hard to succeed. Not only is she a skilled fighter and tactician, but she’s also a master trapper.
She has an oral fixation, though she doesn’t realize it. When she’s concentrating hard, she usually has something in her mouth, like a quill, the tip of her dagger, or her fingernails. As a result, she gives phenomenal head.
Gale
He has a tummy. Sorry, it’s the truth. He’s also got a thick treasure trail from his belly button to his ‘treasure.’
‘Dekarios’ sounds like such a Greek name to me, and all I can think of when he talks about his mother is the classic Greek mother stereotype. His mother’s significantly louder than him, and she tended to spoil him when he was younger. His mother 100% disapproved of Mystra, and it took Elminster and Gale to dissuade her from attacking the goddess on sight.
Brushing his hair is a sure way to his heart.
Wyll
His first tryst was with the son of his father’s castellan. Wyll swore up and down that he was in love, but when his father found out, he had the other boy sent away. Wyll was heartbroken.
Wyll’s a horse girl. He used to love riding as a child, and when there was little to do, he would go to the stables and work with the horses.
He’s still getting used to his horns, but he was pleasantly surprised to find that they were erogenous zone. He doesn’t like them tickled, but he really enjoys when his partner yanks his head back with them.
Orin
When she was young, and just figuring out her powers, she would change into other novices if she got in trouble. Neither Sarevok nor her mother could tell the difference. The Dark Urge could, and they beat her soundly for it. Nobody knows Orin quite like the Dark Urge does.
She’s a chronic insomniac. When she was younger, she’d wander around and scream for attention. Nobody would come.
She’s a sadist, but sex is something that terrifies her. I have some more headcanons about that, but they’re very Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
Raphael/Haarlep
Raphael hasn’t slept with mortals since Haarlep’s arrival. There’s nothing the man loves more than his own face. However, he’s often a voyeur when Haarlep has company. He comes embarrassingly quickly when Haarlep lavishes someone else and is lavished in turn. He’s a cuck.
Haarlep was Mephistopheles’s incubus before Raphael. They were sent away after angering Mephistopheles, and Raphael was the punishment. Haarlep can’t stand Raphael, and the feeling is very much mutual. Haarlep is the only one who understands Raphael, and it pisses the both of them off. It’s passive-aggressive banter and innuendo all the time with those two.
That’s really all I’ve got. Hope you enjoyed!
- 🫀
BELOVED HEART ANON. You are incredibly correct on all of these. Literally all galaxy brained takes.
I wanna give Wyll and Orin hugs and brush Gale's hair please.
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samijami · 4 months
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So if we just do away with all definitions of all words - or perhaps, to your preference, just the definitions pertaining to women and homosexuals - how would the world function?
If we do away with the definition of lesbian as meaning exclusively same sex attracted female humans, what do you think will happen? Would homophobia against lesbians increase? Absolutely! Would lesbians be increasingly exposed to conversion therapy, sexual assault, and rape? Yes! How come you are okay with this? Unless you hate lesbians and want these things to happen to them....
Similarly if we cannot define women anymore as simply adult human females, won't all the legal protections of women which we have fought so hard for, with literal blood, sweat, tears, and jail time, be for nothing? We can't protect a demographic that we can't define. Saying a woman is a feeling is deeply misogynist and ignores the experiences of born women as an oppressed group.
It seems like All Lives Matter and I Don't See Colour are understood as erasing unique black experiences and not helping solve racism or protect black people, but we can apparently Not See Women and All Sexualities are Lesbian and no one except the lesbians seem to notice or care that this erases and endangers lesbians..... The misogyny is jumping out.
Lesbian means female human exclusively attracted to other female humans.
Bisexual mean any person attracted to both sexes. They are mutually exclusive terms. The same way that dog and bird are mutually exclusive. The same way that tea and plastic are mutually exclusive... If we don't have words that have definitions, how are we supposed to communicate and be understood??
Unless it's your goal for lesbian boundaries to not be understood or communicated (and therefore freely violated)
Excuse me, but I want you to think about what you just did here.
You sent this to a 15 year old on the internet who has made the post 'bisexual lesbians, reblog if you agree' to express the fact that a person who is not a man can feel attraction to both genders, but also be moreso attracted to other people who are not men and be valid (or be so romantically). A 15 year old who simply just wanted to advocate for the feelings of people who identify as multiple different labels to express their complicated emotions in a way that feels right for them. A teenager who doesn't wish for women to be raped, and wants nothing more than to say 'I support your emotions and nobody can tell you how you works'.
This is highly innapropriate, and telling a child that advocating for someone's valid emotions and identity is them wishing for those people they are speaking for harm (especially going to the lengths of accusing them of blatantly supporting conversion therapy, rape, sexual assault, and all of those things) is even worse. This makes absolutely no sense, and I will say that coming forward with an entire paragraph on anonymous to send to a child on the internet in order to 'prove them wrong' on a serious matter (that you are making worse with your opinion) is absolutely ridiculous.
Please get yourself and whoever is reblogging my post with 'block op, they're homophobic', 'stop being homophobic' and etc off my page.
And plus,
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And there are multiple ways to be a bisexual lesbian, such as but not limited to,
-Being bisexual, but having a strict romantic attraction to people who are not men.
-Being bisexual but having a preference for women.
-Just feeling comfortable with the fucking label.
Thank you, have a nice day, anon. I hope you and whoever is sending me these things alike have a lovely time getting over yourselves.
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