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bidisastersanji · 6 months

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Was thinking about French gendered terms and Zoro trying to suss out if Sanji’s into men and I had some thoughts and oops now i wrote a thing so here you go:

In the early days Zoro drives himself nuts trying to figure out if Sanji bats for his team too or not. He listens in intently whenever the conversation steers the cook towards talk of his past dalliances, but, just his luck, none of the words used indicate their gender. And there ain’t no fucking way in hell he’s asking him or anyone on the crew directly, lest they immediately understand how bad he has it for the stupid cook.

He bides his time, surely someday he’ll slip up and mention something about the people he’s slept with, right? And sure enough one day, at a feast, a drunken Usopp starts asking what people’s types are. His face still schooled into a nonchalant, neutral expression, he does his best to hide how desperately he waits for Sanji to speak up about his type, only to once again be met with more general terms about people- someone with a kind heart, dependable, an equal… he’s so concentrated on trying to pick out any gendered terms he doesn’t notice the weird look Nami throws his way at each new descriptor in Sanji’s list of desirable traits.

He’s always known Sanji speaks French, finding it endearing whenever the cook curses (even at him), whenever he goes into small little rants to himself, or the face he makes when he can only think of a word in French, rapidly snapping his fingers until it comes back to him. But it’s only when they get to a town where Sanji starts speaking to a vendor excitedly about his produce that he realizes just how much this thing, this endearing thing that’s always been there, truly affects him, and his face burns at how different the cook’s voice sounds when he actually speaks it, how enchantingly low and throaty the foreign syllables ring in his ears.

Attached to living another day, he decides that stealing a book from Robin is a bad idea, and resigns himself to ask her directly for a favour. He swallows his pride and asks if she can lend him a French learning book and a dictionary, curious as to whether he can learn it a bit, and understand whatever the hell Sanji keeps cursing and muttering about around him, and what kinds of insults he’s been throwing his way. With her ever mysterious smile plastered on her face, a chain of Robin’s arms retrieve two books from her library and hand them to him. “Do come to me if you have any questions, Mr. Swordsman. My French is pretty good if I do say so myself.”

He’s out of the room, red as a beet, before she even finishes that sentence.

Learning the curse words comes to him unsurprisingly quickly given how often he hears a litany of « putain de merde », « fait chier! » and « enfoiré! » spilling from the blonde’s distracting mouth.

He’s very happily surprised when he learns that French is apparently a heavily gendered language- and that he can glean someone’s gender just from whether the adjectives applied to the subject are masculine or feminine. Now if the stars aligned and the cook would talk about his love life in French…

Zoro starts by going through the basic first chapters, taking great pains to hide and quickly dissimulate it in his haramaki anytime someone walks in on him- especially the witch. It definitely changes his usual routine on his watch in the crows nest, he muses to himself.

Weeks, months pass, and he advances further in the lessons, his vocabulary slowly growing, while he often goes to his dictionary for the more… colorful insults Sanji throws his way. He never says a word of French himself, not knowing how he could even justify knowing any without looking suspicious, and pretty sure his pronunciation would be way off anyways. But he starts to really enjoy it, being able to understand even a tenth of the things Sanji thinks he can say without the crew (save Robin) understanding.

And then Saobaody happens. And now he doesn't have time to think about learning French, not if he wants to get strong enough. Not if he wants to protect his crew.

He's at the table with Mihawk and Perona when his mentor asks for the salt (Passez moi le sel, s'il vous plait), and he executes himself without thinking. A quiet settles over the room and he looks up to see those intense red eyes boring into him, unnerving as ever.

"You speak French?"

"Not really," he grumbles, not wanting more excuses to think of the shitty cook, and his shitty cooking, and his stupid curly brow.

"Then you will. Consider this a natural continuation of my trying to beat some manners into your brutish mind."

Two years later, and he can't wait for dartbrow to show up. His pronunciation may still be shit, but he can't wait to use his newfound skill to his advantage.

With his now solidified grasp of the language, he slowly begins to understand that what he at first though was a mistake on his part- that he must’ve missed a part of a sentence, or mixed up some words- was not an error at all. It turns out, some of the French things that Sanji yells at him aren’t insults at all.

In fact… they’re sometimes downright complimentary.

And that's definitely a problem for Zoro, who now not only needs to keep pretending that he doesn’t know what Sanji is saying, but needs to pretend he doesn’t understand it when Sanji screams at him that he has a “stupidly pretty face” or that his “tits are even bigger than Nami’s and how is that even fair” . He doesn't know what to make of it.

And then one day… the stars align.

It’s another post battle party, and the cook has been drinking a bit more than usual, a tightly gripped glass of wine in his left hand, a cigarette in his right. Zoro is nursing his very own barrel of Ale when he hears the conversation turn to more gossipy topics, as it usually does the further into the night they are.

“Chopper was really into that nurse on Zou, wasn’t he?” Usopp starts to poke fun at the crew’s youngest member, laughing as the reindeer turns all red and tries to deny it.

“I mean it makes sense that she’d be his type! Right Nami?”

Nami nods at him, grinning wickedly. “Yeah, not all of us can be into rich little blonde girls can we?”

“You’re right, some of us are into rich blue-haired princesses,” he shoots back.

"At least I had the balls to do something about it before I left her island-"

Zoro is already tuning them out when Sanji sits down next to Robin just a few feet away, across from him and the campfire, his tongue loosened from a few too many refills and unconsciously reverting to his native tongue.

"Ils ont de la chance, ces deux là." he gestures to Usopp and Nami. (They're lucky, these two.)

Robin smiles at the cook, wordlessly prompting him to continue his thoughts.

"Qu'est ce que je donnerais pour pouvoir avoir quelque chose de plus qu'un coup d'un soir." Sanji sighs wistfully, lighting his cigarette. (What I wouldn't give to have something more than a one night stand.")

Robin chuckles. "Ne sont-ils pas satisfaisants?" (Are they not satisfying?)

At this point Zoro has tuned everything out, intensely focused on hearing what the blonde has to say, and not at all feeling a small churn of jealousy in his stomach for whoever shared Sanji's bed. His heart initially skips a beat at the plural masculine pronoun ('ils') used by Robin before remembering its actual neutrality in this context, as it's referring to the ""one night stands", a masculine word. Damnit. French is so dumb.

"Tu sais bien que je ne dirais jamais de mal à propos des belles demoiselles qui ont bien voulu m'accorder ne serait-ce qu'un baiser ou une étreinte. J'ai de la chance rien que d'avoir pu exister en leur présence."

(You very well know I'd never say a bad word about any of the beautiful ladies who've been kind enough to give me even a kiss or an embrace. I'm lucky just to have existed in their presence.)

Zoro feels his heart drop, a heavy feeling settling in his stomach. He's always known the pervert cook has been into women. Why was this confirmation hitting him the way it was? His eye darts up at his two crewmates, confirming that only Robin has noticed his eavesdropping. She opens her mouth to say something but Sanji continues, the glow of the flames dancing against his flushed skin beautifully.

"Et dans mon état normal tu sais que, par respect pour les sensibilités d'une dame, je ne te divulge pas beaucoup de détails sur ceux qui font l'affaire le temps d'une nuit. "

(And in my normal state you know that, out of respect for a lady's sensibilities, I don't divulge many details about those who do the trick for a night.)

Ceux. That's a masculine word for "those", isn't it? Zoro shakily takes another sip of his drink.

The archeologist's smile widens. "Oh, ne te fait pas de soucis pour mes sensibilités. Je brûle d'envie d'en savoir plus, et ne m'épargne pas les détails..."

(Oh, please don't worry about my sensibilities. I'm burning to know more, and don't spare me the details...)

"Je ne suis que ton humble serviteur...si ça peut te faire plaisir" (I'm but your humble servant…if it pleases you). Sanji's cheeks seem a tad more flushed than before. "En vrai ce n'est pas qu'ils ne sont pas satisfaisants...c'est qu'il ne sont jamais... assez."

(It's not that they're not satisfying…it's that they're never...enough.)

"Ah? Et que recherches tu? Qu'est ce qui serait..."assez"?"

(Ah? And what are you looking for? What would be… "enough"?)

The cook exhales another cloud of smoke, and nervously looks around. His eyes settle on Zoro, and indecision flits across his eyes for a second before continuing. Zoro can feel his gaze, can almost make out the deliciously unfocused expression on the blonde's face in his peripheral vision as he continues speaking French. His heart feels like it might beat out of his ribcage.

"Lui." (Him.)

Zoro forgets how to breathe.

Part 2 up now , and part 3 part 4

#zoro x sanji #zosan #zosan fic #this was SUPPOSED TO BE A LITTLE TEXT POST #and then #AND THEN THIS HAPPENED #should I continue this #let me know in the tags #sanji x zoro #i can say french is dumb because i am #i have so many more thoughts about french speaking sanji #share yours with me pleaaaseee #zoro learns French #zoro learns french fic

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teamhandsometcth · 4 months

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A Monégasque Story ( Part 1 ) - Charles Leclerc

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5

Summary of the series - Y/n is Charles' best friend little sister. They grew up together but haven't seen each other's for years. Their relationship seems to take a different turn when Charles stay at her’s and her brother's.

Warning - Both Y/n's and Charles' POV, Fem reader, Both Charles and Y/n speaking French (translated) tension, tooth rotting fluff, three years age gap, mature content, 18+, brother's best friend, friends to lovers, she felt first he felt harder...

Disclaimer : I'm French and my English is NOT perfect ⚠️ Please don't stole or repost my stories on any other sites. Btw reblogs are more then welcomed.

Here I am, laying on my best friend's parents couch after spending the last 24 hours doing exactly that plus dealing with a massive hungover.

My flight landed in Monaco three days ago, and since that, Giselle and I have been glued to each other.

We didn't get to see each other much lately, I've been so busy with my finals. And with us living in different places, Giselle in London, and me in Paris, it's complicated to match our plannings.

I called her the very moment after landing, which quickly resulted to her proposing to celebrate the start of summer break (get drunk) with our friends. And that's exactly what we did. Wish resulted to our current state.

She hand me a cup of tea for the third time this afternoon, as we're desperately trying to find a place to spend the other half of our vacation.

I sit up and slightly roll up the sleeves of my cardigan before taking the cup. "Why don't we stay simple ? I think Italy would be the perfect place. It's sunny, the food is delicious, and the men are too..." I propose, a teasing smile dancing on my lips.

She laugh and shook her head lightly. "the men part does not work as an argument for me."

I meet her gaze, a knowing expression plastered on my face. "fair enough. Although I'm kind of up for a summer flying. You know, get to think about something else than work !"

"Can't relate, I never think about work." Giselle say calmly bringing her cup to her lips. I let out a laugh at her statement.

My phone suddenly start going off. I bend over to grab it from the coffee table, trying my best not to fall off the couch.

I unlock my phone, and quickly glance at the text conversation between my brother and I.

He was asking at what time I plan to get home. I quickly tap an answer before putting my phone back down.

Two empty cups and equal number of unread messages from Raphael later. Im finally standing at the front door.

"Text me when you're home !" Gisele shout from the kitchen. "yup." I answer loudly enough for her to hear before closing the door behind me.

I live in Paris since I started college, and even if I fly back to Monte Carlos often, I still miss it here.

My parents sold out our family home two years ago, since we weren't living with them anymore. Plus, they were always talking about traveling around the world just the two of them, and how exciting it will be to have this adventure for their marriage.

Even if it broke my heart to say goodbye to this house, that hold so many of my childhood memories, im really happy for them. So now, when im back in town, I usually go to my brother's.

It take me less than 15 minutes to walk there, as I enjoy the view of the sun starting set slowly. I missed it so much. One of the thing I love the most about Monaco is how little it is, you can literally walk everywhere. Ironically enough, it's also what I hated the most about living here when I was a teenager, it seemed like my world was so little. Now I found peace in coming back here, it seems like time stop for a moment.

Once at the flat, I close the front door behind me and drop my bag on the couch.

The windows are open, letting a soft breeze dance between the sheers as the golden light from the now lot lower sun fill the living room.

I sat down on the couch, and send a quick message to Giselle to tell her I got home safe, Knowing that if I forget, she's going to come see for herself. She can be such a drama queen sometimes, and I love her for that.

I make my way toward my bedroom wanting only one thing, take a long hot shower. But as i pass the guest room a voice catch my attention.

I furrow my eyes brow as hear someone speak but it's not my brother. It sound familiar but I can't seem to remember where I heard it.

I push the door open, and my eyes directly fall on a pair of green ones. I frown, not only they seem familiar but I know exactly who own them.

And just like that, everything stop. I dive deeply into them, my breath become shorter and my mind goes back where my teenager heart installed itself years ago.

7 years earlier :

I am on the porch of my family house sitting on the staircase, my back against the gate. Observing my brother and his friends playing basket in our garden, a book with the world cheesiest cover in my hand. I was mesmerized by it, it was my first romance book ever and it made me dream of something I didn't know I wanted. Love.

As my eye travel between the pages I can't repress the big smile of pure euphoria off of my fifteen years old face.

I only detached my curious eyes off the words when I see a shadow approach. I quickly shut the book and look up, only to see Charles. "Hey." I say a little too flustered. "Hey you too, what are you reading ?" he say trying to catch the book in my hand, I try an escape but he take it from my grip with a devious smile.

I wasn't particularly ashamed of reading romance, but definitely ashamed that my crush just caught me reading it, which is so gross.

He look at the cover, with a teasing grin on his perfectly sculptured face.

"Oh I seeeee," I drop my head between my knee and let out an ashamed groan. He giggle, "Stop being so shy, im just teasing you. This is so cute honestly."

"Charles stop I don't want to speak about that with you." I tell him, ready for a hole to open under me and swallow me entirely.

He kneel in front of me, make me raise my head by taking my chin between his hand, caressing it softly. "You know you don't have to be ashamed with me, it's good." He say softly. " It's completely normal for you to find interest in that, everyone do at our age, it's called being a teenager." He laugh lightly, I do too relaxing a little.

"But seriously, if you have any questions whatever it is you can ask me, I will be happy to help you."

I blush, look down then look back up at him again. "thank you Charlie."

"Charles ?" I ask in shock.

I stand there, completely stuck in place. I literally fell my heart beating in every fibers of my skin.

He look so handsome. I take my time to look at him up and down, taking in every changes and details. Don't get me wrong, I watch formula one so I know what he look like. It's just that it's been a while since I've seen him for real.

I finally look back in his eyes, just to discover he was doing the exact same thing I was doing a second ago. He was gazing intently at every curve and part of me, like he was trying to learn every single one of them.

When his beautiful green-ish colored eyes cross my again, smiles broke on both of our faces.

"Salut," (hi ) He let out suddenly, His voice holding an inch of hesitation and shyness in it. It's so freaking cute.

I try to contain my smile, still not believing my eyes. "Salut,"

Charles is my brother's best-friend. We grew up together, and for as far as can remember, I always had a crush on him. How could I not.

It has been one sided for the most part. Till 4 years ago when he started to reciprocate, we kind of started something but not so long after, I was leaving for Paris.

Since that, we keep on missing each other. Every time im here he's out of town, and vise versa. We didn't talk during this 4 years. We just kind of got on with our lives.

"Raph m'as pas dit que tu venais. T'es arrivé quand ?" ( Raph didn't tell me you were coming, when did you get here ? ) I say in disbelief, while going for a quick hug.

"J'ai atterri ce matin. C'était pas prévu mais je vais être à Monaco pour quelles semaines." ( I landed this morning actually. It wasn't planned, but im going to be in Monaco for a couple of weeks.) Charles smile as I pull away, he look at me up and down again. It make me weak in the knees and I fell like somehow he knows it.

As I look away my gaze catch a luggage at the foot of the bed. I look back at Charles in confusion. "You're staying here ?"

Charles nod lightly "Only for a couple of days. I let one of my friend and his girlfriend crash at my place since they are in town for a couple of weeks, and I wasn't supposed to be home for a while."

He's still not taking his eyes off of me, making me melt under his gaze.

He lock eyes with me, not saying anything. I love the way he look at me, he make me fell special. He blush when he realize he was staring.

He clear his throat lightly, "I was one the phone with your brother just before you got here and he's going to be out for a while, something to do with one of the boat."

I nod, "Right, well what do you want to do meanwhile ?" I question.

He smile at me "Viens avec moi, j'ai besoin d'aide pour défaire mes bagages." ( Come with me, I need help with unpacking. ) he say his hand delicately going on the small of my back slightly pushing me toward his luggage.

We start to unpack, Charles stand by the drawer, as im siting on the bed passing him his clothes. Catching up on what happened in our lives lately.

"J'ai hâte de la rencontrer, je suis sur qu’elle a des super pouvoirs. J'ai jamais vu Raph s'attacher autant à quelqu'un avant." ( Im actually quite impatient to meet this girl, im sure she have super powers. I've never seen Raph head over heels over someone before. )

I nod at him smiling at the thought "Il l'est vraiment. Et c'est vrai qu'elle est incroyable" ( Yeah, he really his. And she is pretty amazing I might add.) here he his again looking at me ready to tease me.

"Je suis certain que tu dis pas ça juste parce que c'est ta meilleure amie !"( Im sure you're not saying that because she is your best friend !) I chock my head, a smile on my lips. "Non pas du tout. Toute les personnes qui me fréquente sont genial" (No I'm not, every person who frequent me are incredible.) I say jokingly.

"Je devrai rester coller a toi alors" ( I should stay as close to you as possible then! ) He state teasingly. I don't know how long he's actually planning on staying but im gonna have a pretty hard time if he continue to say things like that to me. Im already so overwhelmed with emotions and it's only been an hour.

I always thought the silly crush I had on him will stay in my childhood, like something I will think about and be like "how could that happen". but here I am feeling this exact same sensations I was feeling on that porch, like nothing really changed.

Im not naive. I don't expect anything from him. I already kind of experimented how he is when it comes to relationships, and that’s not attractive to me.

We continue to unpack everything, while he's telling me some behind the scene of formula one. I love listening to him talking about his work, he's so passionate about it and excited to explain every details of it. It's charming.

"So what are you planning to do while you’re in break ?" We moved to his bed, after we finished organizing everything. I sat in front of his lied down body.

"I don't know actually, it's been a while since I've been here for more than two days." He began, stirring up a little. "I think I'm just happy to get to be with you and Raph, so whatever we do is fine by me" the biggest smile made its way on my face. "Thank you for saying that." he smile back "it's true."

He get up to take something out of the front pocket of his travel bag. "Wish made me think, I have something for you." he get back to me with a little package in his hand and give it to me.

I furrow my eyebrows at him as open it, just to see a gorgeous necklace with a little charm dawdling at the end of it. "It's so pretty, but why?" I say locking eyes with him. Im in aww, my literally eyes shining, "I saw it a few months ago when I was in Italy and it made me think of you, so I buy it and since im here I thought it was the perfect occasion to give it to you."

My eyes widened "Slow down a minutes, you buy this months ago ? Did you already knew you we were going to see each other ? I don't understand." I say with a confused expression.

He chock his head, "No I didn't, but I knew I was going to see you at some point, and I wanted to have it then." I blush at his thoughtfulness.

"Thank you so much Charles." I jump in his arms which he immediately respond by squeezing me tightly.

We stay like that just enjoying the warm of our bodies against one another.

Once we pulled away, I sat with my back toward Charles. He pass the necklace in front of me. I take a fistful of my hair, freeing my neck for him.

Once he attached it, I drop the hold on my hair making them fall back on my back. he push them away a little and press a kiss on my shoulder not saying anything. I fell butterflies rise in my stomach.

I turn around locking eyes with him "Thank you." He blush lightly. "You're very welcome love."

—————————

When my brother gets home, Charles and I are sitting on the balcony, enjoying the cooler air.

I love how Monaco fell like a party every single second. From the moment the sun went completely down, thousands of apartments started to light up all around the principality.

We can see people walking down the road all dressed up and ready to have a blast. it's a all mood, and it's magical.

"Y/n you're here." I hear from behind me. I stop my conversation with Charles and sightly twist my upper body on the sofa to look behind me, inside the apartment.

I send a smile in Raphael's direction, as he make his way to us, opening the already ajar glass door.

"Hey, sorry that I took so long." he say, kissing my cheeks to say hello.

He didn't miss the oportunity to ruffle my hair just after, just to piss me off.

If a look could kill, he'll be dead by now.

"Some idiots, rented a yacht and ruined it, I had to deal with all the paper work for the assurance, and the obviously dump tourists, that suddenly couldn't understand anything I was saying." he sight, crossing his arms and leaning against the gate.

My brother own yachts and boats. Well technically "we" do. He had taken upon the family business when our parents moved. He rent them so people can organize parties, weeding... And he also navigate for people who went to visit around.

"Shit." Charles let out from behind me, concern in his voice. "And did you find a solution ?"

"Yeah, well at least I think so, we'll see in the morning." he smile sightly, and focus his attention back on me. "btw Charles is staying with us!"

"Yeah i caught up on that."I snort at my brother, making Charles laugh.

I send a smile in his direction which he is quick to return, with his pretty dimples.

"So, what do you guys want to do tonight ?" I ask looking between the two.

I hate being the one responsable of picking places to go to, because if it's not good or something it's all on me.

Raphael, shrugs "Whatever you and Charles want, im not picky." And it's true, he was incredibly easy to please.

I turn to Charles, he turn to me, smirk, than say the infamous words "whatever you pick is fine by me." This bastard.

"You guys are impossible." I sight.

To be continued...

Part 2 >>

I hope you guys liked it. This was the first part of what I hope will be a story. I created a masterlist so check it out if you want. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. If you want to request something, go for it and I will try my best to make it as good as possible. Have an amazing day or night, and maybe see you soon. With love, 💜

Ps : don’t forget to share if you want to

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lovesickeros · 7 months

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☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 2 ]

{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.9k {☆} previous [ 1 ]

This had to be a punishment of some sort – some kind of divine punishment.

She was bored out of her mind just watching the sleeping body – she hadn't blinked once in the past five hours, her eyes were really starting to hurt. Yet they still hadn't moved so much as an inch since she sequestered them away to the only place she had known to be safe.

But it'd been almost a week since then.

The only solace she found was that Teyvat had seemed much less hellbent on collapsing in on itself like a dying star.

That counted for something.

Not much, but something!

..Even if their position was no better then it was a week ago.

There was, after all, still the issue of what to do about the false Creator – the actual imposter – and the Archons following them like blind lambs. The other Archons wouldn't listen if she tried to reason with them, and it would only risk the life of Divine One if she spoke of their location to anyone else.

She also was pretty fond of having her head still attached to her shoulders.

So she avoided them all together. Partially because she wasn't sure she wouldn't have a breakdown at the sight of them..she'd never been a fighter, and fighting an Archon? Easy pass.

Instead she was forced to babysit the sleeping Divine until they woke up while Neuvillette handled taking care of the nation and dealing with the other Archons – and by extension the false Creator.

Really though, she would almost think them dead if not for the subtle rise and fall of their chest.

Though..this also left her with a lot of time to herself. A lot of time to think.

She really didn't like it.

There wasn't a lot to occupy her mind and what little there was only distracted her for a scant few moments before her eyes drifted back to the Divine like she was locked in their orbit, unable to escape.

She closed the same book for the twelfth time – she kept count – and returned it to it's meticulously designed place within her bookcase. A low, barely audible huff of frustration escaped her lips before she could bite it down, her stare boring a hole into the body of the Divine One with a sharp intensity she rarely showed.

She was tired, bored and constantly on edge, fearing that at any moment someone would find out about their presence here.

That, at the drop of a hat, she would be powerless to stop the greatest tragedy of her time play out before her eyes.

Neuvillette would have scolded her for being so petulant, especially around the Divine One, if he were here.

But he wasn't.

He was out running her nation, instead.

And what was she doing? Nothing!

She grit her teeth, nails digging harshly into the palm of her hands as she took a deep breath – now was not the time to think about that. She had..much more pressing matters. Sulking and letting her thoughts spiral helped no one, least of all herself.

Yet her attention was caught by a harsh inhale, the rustle of fabric – were they finally waking up? She was exhausted, but it all vanished at the sudden drop of life within the otherwise deathly still body of the Divine.

Her eyes followed the subtle twitch of their fingers, watching as their brow furrowed and their features twisted in something almost like..pain.

..She wasn't ready.

What was she supposed to say?

Should she even say anything? Would that be considered impolite? Does she wait for them to speak first? Should she kneel? Bow?

She doesn't get much time to find her own answer before their lashes flutter, chest heaving with every strangled breath. Every single thought vanishes from her mind the moment she meets their eyes.

For a long, silent moment she thinks that her heart must have stopped.

Their eyes glow like the cresting of the sun over the horizon, painting the world in hues of gold – yet it also reminded her of the dipping of the moon below the waves, casting the briefest, most gentle of lights upon the world engulfed in darkness. In the depths of their eyes was the birth and death of stars in the infinite cosmos – glittering stars in a sea of empty, blank space that left her feeling lightheaded and breathless.

Beneath the splendor is a spark of recognition in their eyes so vibrant it was like a shooting star piercing through the dark night sky, leaving nothing but the wonder in the eyes of the observer as the only proof it ever existed – brilliant in it's beauty, however brief.

It is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen.

"Focalors?"

The lilt of their voice nearly made her knees buckle beneath her – euphoria so consuming it left her feeling she was starving swallowed her whole, her mind blanking in a moment of utter bliss. It was..an indescribable feeling that she doubted she could ever hope to put into words – not in a way that could properly express it, try as she might.

She swallowed the words that threatened to spill from her lips – she couldn't make a fool of herself. Not in front of them of all people. She'd never forgive herself.

"Divine One," She rasps, clearing her throat and covering her mouth with a hand to mask both her nervousness and the small smile that creeps across her face. She quickly regains her composure, hand resting on her hip as she puffs out her chest with every bit of pride she can manage. "I am sure you must be confused, but worry not– your most loyal acolyte has seen the truth!"

The silence is deafening.

She opens one eye, peaking at the bewildered and almost distraught expression of the Divine.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

That..she was not prepared for. Surely they knew who they were! Surely they knew. They had to– she's been praying to them for as long as she's breathed, she's dedicated every hour of her life to living up to their ideals, they can't just–!

"Lady Furina?"

Neuvillette, thankfully, spares her the embarrassment of having a meltdown in front of the Divine, the gentle rap of his knuckles against the door making her and the Divine pause, the soft lull of his voice soothing her nerves and yet setting her on edge at the same time.

"Neuvillette." She clears her throat again, her steps hurried as she marches to the door and pries it open none too gently, a forced smile pulling at her lips. She wastes no time tugging the man into the room, shutting the door behind him with a short huff. The silence is, somehow, even worse then before as the three of them stare at each other in absolute exasperation.

Neuvillette, for his part, manages to get his act together with a sharp clearing of his throat, bowing so low even she looks unnerved. She steals a brief glance at the Divine, and she's taken aback by the uncomfortability twisting their features into a grimace.

Their expression is schooled back into one of empty apathy when he stands back to his full height, but she saw it – she knows she did! Did they not like their worship? Were they not respectful enough? For a moment, she feared the Divine would smite Neuvillette down on the spot..but they just stared at him like he was a ghost.

"Why aren't you killing me?"

The defeated, resigned tone combined with the way their voice cracks makes her heart ache in her chest – it feels as though her entire world is crumbling down at her feet, and she cannot explain why she feels such emotions so strongly, but it is suffocating. It is almost as if Teyvat itself is weeping, bearing down upon her shoulders like a heavy weight.

She feels the urge to weep herself, but she powers through, gritting her teeth long enough for Neuvillette to take his place at the side of her – though it feels more like their – bed, kneeling like he was going to pray.

"Divine One," He offers a hand with a quiet rumble of his voice, the words slipping off his tongue like honey. It's like trying to soothe a stray cat..though she'd never voice such comparisons of the most Divine out loud. "I..we mean you no harm. I swear on my authority as the Iudex of Fontaine and Chief Justice that you are safe with us."

The skepticism she expected, but the reverence in which Neuvillette must convince them – or perhaps they are simply so tired that they simply did not care any longer if it was all some ploy to drive a knife between their ribs. She didn't expect them to actually place their hand in Neuvillette's.

He didn't either, judging by the way he visibly brightened – not that they'd notice, but she did.

..Not that she could really blame him, her heels clicking against the floorboards as she shifted her weight to the other foot with a nervous energy that was practically bursting at the seams, more then a little jealous of the attention he was receiving. She was the one who found them, she was the one who stayed with them the entire time..but he gets all the attention?

How unfair.

"O-of course! We would never lay a hand on our creator," She adds, her voice a little higher pitched then she would have liked as she placed her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest and brushing off the sting of jealousy. "Least of all I– your most loyal, most devout acolyte!"

She felt baffled when she heard the sound of their laughter, her shoulders hunching and her cheeks flushing on mere instinct – she was expecting mockery, but the look in their eyes, still dulled by a pain she cannot even begin to imagine, made her hesitate.

..It was, perhaps, the most genuine thing she'd heard from them ever since before the hunt began.

She wasn't sure why her heart hurt at such an idea, but it was enthralling to see the beginnings of a half hearted smile on their lips.

For a moment, her mask of theatrics was forgotten as she stared at them in a mixture of awe and adoration– and though she didn't look at Neuvillette, she could imagine he must've shared such an expression.

Had she any doubts that they were her Creator, that they alone were the most Divine..they would wiped clean now. There was no mistaking the way the world itself seemed to grow clearer as they glanced up at her like she was worth something.

For a moment, she realized how cold the false Creators gaze had been now that she has felt warmth so gentle it almost made her knees buckle beneath her. It felt like a pale imitation, now.

Nothing could compare to the warmth that spread through her body at the mere semblance of a smile upon their lips. She didn't even mind if it was her they were laughing at anymore, she just wanted to hear them laugh again.

She'd make a fool of herself, if she had to.

She'd never felt so..ravenous for such a thing, but just the briefest glimpse was addictive.

She simply couldn't help herself from striding across the room and clasping their free hand in her own, her smile wide enough to unnerve as she leaned her weight onto the bed. For a moment, she considered pulling away at the way they startled, but her mind was made up by then – there was no going back.

"Again."

#sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin impact #fic tag #neuvillette #focalors #furina #dont ask what happened here idk #this was. also supposed 2 be neuvi focused and then i.#dont talk 2 me abt focalors i wont ever shut up #got a 300k word essay on hand abt how i feel abt her character/how i interpret her personality and her story #focalors jsut like me fr fr (cries at the slightest inconvenience or the slightest mean comment)#shes so pathetic girlfail im gonna chew on her #what happens when reader gets stuck with two emotionally repressed french bastards?? hell #neuvi is the “emotionless” flavor of emotionally repressed in that hes HORRIBLE at showing emotions at all #ask him to smile and its incredibly unnerving and theres too many teeth but hes trying his best please call him pretty or he will cry :(#furina is the flavor of emotionally repressed where she makes it up by having Too Many emotions #using theatrics and masks to show everyone what they want to see but inside this girl is a MESS #constant anxiety and panic 24/7 #will do random shit and look at you and if u dont compliment her she will think u hate her and cry #compliment her and she'll do even stupider shit to try and impress you more #i love my scrunkly little babies they r so stupid and mentally ill someone get these bitches some THERAPY #i want 2 put them under a microscope #watch this be ooc fr furina when more of her lore drops if shes not girlfail im leaving #anyway see u in a week im going on a trip ill get back 2 u in 6-7 business days

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sailorsally · 8 months

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French Mistake but instead of set they land at a convention and Dean gets to see first hand how much people care about him and his story and how loved he is!! (also what's with all these destiel questions?? he might have to finally work up the courage to talk to Cas)

#french mistake #sorry ive been reading french mistake fics and getting lots of ideas #spn hcs #spn #destiel

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theostrophywife · 5 months

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la petite mort.

pairing: regulus black x reader.

song inspiration: greedy by tate mcrae.

author's note: you guys, the wonka press tour is going to be the death of me. timothee looks so hot and therefore it gave me extra inspiration to finish this little piece.

Regulus Black was first and foremost a gentleman.

Before you started dating, Regulus was adamant about courting you properly. Your boyfriend was a bit old-fashioned that way, but you absolutely adored it. During your first date, Regulus took you out to the fanciest restaurant in town, opened the door for you, pulled out your chair, and didn’t even blink twice before sliding his card down when the check came.

Ever since then, Regulus spoiled you rotten. Every day, he walked you to class, carried your bag and books, and even left sweet little notes for you to find throughout the day. In the eyes of the public, Regulus Black was the picture of the perfect gentleman, but in private, your boyfriend was anything but.

There was a dark side to Regulus. A side that you took great delight in awakening. Tonight, you were more determined than ever to push your boyfriend to his limits.

It was a typical Friday night. You and Regulus were at his dorm for your weekly study date. Except you really weren’t in the mood to study. You were laying on your stomach on his bed, absentmindedly flipping through the potions manual in front of you. The assignment was to translate the text from French, but you hardly had more than a few sentences transcribed on your parchment. You were much too distracted at the moment.

While the manual failed to capture your attention, Regulus did not. Your boyfriend was sitting across the room reading some obscure tome about dark magic. He leaned over the wooden desk, the sleeves of his shirt rolled just past his elbows, which gave you the perfect view of the veins on his forearms. His green and silver tie hung loosely around his neck, exposing the perfectly kissable column of his throat.

Unaware of your ogling, Regulus twirled his wand between his fingers as his features pinched in concentration. Those angelic curls grazed his impossibly high cheekbones, drawing your attention to the smattering of freckles across his nose. As he read, Regulus mouthed the words silently, his lips curving around the vowels in the most delicious way. His green eyes burned intensely, illuminated by the warm glow of the lantern beside him.

Abandoning your assignment, you dragged yourself off of the bed and sidled up behind him. Regulus melted into your touch as you massaged his shoulders. He looked up and the light hit his eyes just right, golden spears bursting through the rich green hues like a kaleidoscope.

Regulus grabbed your chin and dragged your face down to his, planting a sweet kiss against your lips. You hummed against his mouth, eager to deepen the otherwise chaste kiss. You felt him smile at your enthusiasm before he gently tugged at your hair, forcing you to look at him once again.

“Did you finish your translations, my love?’

You shook your head. “No, I think I need a study break.”

Regulus tutted. “Come show me what you’ve done so far and I’ll tell you if you’ve earned one.”

You pouted. It wasn’t very often that Regulus denied your request. Usually, he bent over backwards just to make you happy, so when he didn’t immediately grant you what you wanted, you couldn’t help but act like an absolute brat. Patience had never been your strong suit and Regulus knew that.

Your boyfriend watched with an amused smirk as you retrieved your manual and parchment with a little frown on your face. You set the studying materials down on his desk and crossed your arms.

“Where am I supposed to sit?”

Regulus patted his lap. “Right here is fine, darling.”

He almost chuckled at how quickly your mood brightened after that, but he didn’t want to give himself away. Regulus knew exactly what you wanted and he had every intention of making you work for it. You made yourself right at home on his lap, rubbing your arse against his crotch. He would’ve been embarrassed at how hard he already was underneath you, but Regulus had absolutely no shame when it came to his girl.

“Why don’t you read what you have so far, mon amour?”

You began by reading the ingredients, which listed the main components of the potion. Those were easy enough to translate given that the terms were quite similar in each language. Regulus urged you to continue and you had no choice but to fumble through the instructions, which you had undoubtedly mucked up after getting distracted by him.

“Faire chauffer à feu doux,” you said reluctantly.

Regulus shook his head. “Faire chauffer à feu fort,” he corrected in perfect French.

It was rather pathetic how hot and bothered you were over boiling instructions, but you couldn’t stop squirming at how attractive it was to hear your boyfriend speak the language of love. Regulus bid you to continue, which you did rather distractedly.

You struggled through the next few sentences, pressing your thighs together every time Regulus corrected your pronunciation. “You have to roll your tongue, darling. Like this.”

After Regulus demonstrated by rolling his tongue and sounding out the word flawlessly, your skin felt so hot that you were surprised you hadn’t burst into flames. As you stuttered over the next few sentences, you felt Regulus shuffle underneath you. He slowly unbuckled his belt and slid off his pants. You stopped mid-sentence when he lifted up your skirt.

Regulus slapped your thigh so hard that the action made you jerk in his lap. “I didn’t say you could stop. Keep reading, love.”

“Trancher de la racine aux pointes—“ you stammered lamely through the words as his hands roamed underneath your skirt.

You held your breath as he palmed you through the cotton fabric. Regulus smirked when he felt how wet and needy you were for him. He pulled your panties to the side, not bothering to take them off as he caressed your slit. Coating his index and middle fingers with your arousal, Regulus spread your wetness all along your folds.

A pathetic little whimper escaped your lips. Regulus grabbed your chin and turned you towards him. “I told you to keep reading,” he growled. “Start that section over and don't stop or I’ll make you regret it. Do you understand, princess?”

With a nod, you continued to decipher the next section. Regulus hummed in approval as he lifted your hips. You gripped the parchment as your boyfriend positioned you over his length before thrusting his cock inside of you without warning.

You bit your lip to keep your moan in. “What are you doing, Reg?”

Regulus chuckled darkly. “You didn’t think I’d let you get away with acting like a spoiled fucking brat, did you?” You gasped as he sheathed himself in your warmth, filling you to the hilt and nearly making you squirm with pleasure. “You wanted my cock so I’m giving it to you, but I’m not moving until you finish your assignment.”

The whine that escaped out of you made him smirk. “Now be a good girl so you can get your reward, yeah?”

Your boyfriend stayed true to his word. Every time you translated a phrase correctly, Regulus rewarded you with a slow thrust. He grunted as he drove deeper into you, whispering praises of encouragement in your ear.

“My smart girl,” Regulus declared proudly, littering kisses against your neck. “Keep going, baby. You want more, don’t you?”

The growing need for him distracted you. When you pronounced a word wrong, Regulus pulled all the way out until only his tip teased along your folds. You whimpered at the loss, loathing the hollow and empty feeling it left you with.

Regulus grabbed you by the throat. “Salé means savory, sucré is sweet. I’m disappointed. I know you know this, darling. Let’s refresh.” He pressed his lips against yours and you ached to kiss him, but you knew that he wouldn’t be pleased if you did so without permission. “Say it with me. Salé.”

You swallowed thickly as he spoke the words against your mouth. The smooth way that the word rolled off of his tongue made you clench around him. Regulus smirked as you repeated the word, slightly stuttering while you struggled to stay still.

“Salé.”

“Does it turn you on when I speak French, mon amour?” You nodded silently, not trusting yourself with words at the moment. “I know it does, gorgeous girl. I can tell by the way your pretty little pussy is clenching around my cock. Poor thing, you must be aching to be fucked, aren’t you?”

Tears pricked at your eyes. You wanted him so badly that it actually hurt. Regulus wiped the errant tear away with his thumb. “One more, darling. Surely you can manage.” He tilted your chin up and spoke the last word against your lips. “Sucré.”

“Sucré,” you repeated obediently.

“What does it mean?”

“Sweet.”

“Just like you, pretty girl.” Regulus kissed your cheek. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now you can have your study break.”

You sighed in relief when Regulus finally kissed you. The chaste kiss from earlier was gone. Instead, he claimed your mouth with his tongue, leaving open mouthed kisses that had you tugging at his curls for more. He smiled as you grinded into him, making him grunt in pleasure as you lowered onto his length.

“So eager, aren’t we? Where do you want me, mon amour? Here or on the bed?”

“Neither,” you gasped into his mouth before glancing at the desk behind you.

He chuckled when he realized what you meant. “Is this what you were thinking about, love? Couldn’t focus on your work because you were imagining me bending you over that desk?”

You nodded. “Yes,” you breathed. “Please, Reg. I need you so bad.”

“Fuck, you’re so pretty when you beg.” Regulus shifted and patted your thigh. “Come on, darling. Bend over for me. Let me fuck you on this desk until you cry.”

Regulus watched with lust blown eyes as you bent over the wooden desk. He flipped your skirt up and palmed your ass, the cold bite of his rings sending shivers down your spine. You bit your lip as Regulus loosened his tie. He smirked as he slid it off his neck.

“Put your arms behind your back, mon cœur.”

You eagerly obeyed his command. Regulus pinned your wrists together and bound you with his tie. Pressing your cheek against the wood, he stripped you of your shirt and kissed along your spine. Regulus leaned over and slipped a hand underneath your lacy bra, squeezing your tits as he positioned himself behind you. His other hand guided his cock at your entrance. Regulus slipped in slowly, giving you inch after delicious inch.

“Merde,” Regulus cursed. “You feel so fucking good, princess.”

Once he started moving, you were reduced to a blubbering mess. Regulus was relentless as he fucked you from behind, his fingers digging into your hips while he drove in and out of you. The parchment and quills that were neatly laid out on his desk clattered to the ground with every slam of his hips. The desk rattled against the wall while he fucked you into oblivion.

You pressed your cheek against the wood, the sound of your moans bouncing off the walls while you begged for more. “Baise-moi fort, Regulus.”

Regulus hissed, thrusting into you with force just like you asked. The line between pain and pleasure blurred. Warm tears coated your cheeks as he pushed your body to the limit. Regulus pulled your hair and tugged him towards you for a sloppy kiss. Your legs shook underneath you as he slapped your ass. You could feel the imprint of his rings brand itself into your skin. He timed his thrusts with each smack, making you wetter and wetter by the second.

He brushed your hair back, kissing your cheek. Regulus placed his hand on your stomach and pressed down just as he rutted into you. “Feel that, princess? This is what I think about all day. Burying myself so deep inside you that you can’t even form words.” You babbled in response, whatever words you were trying to form came out entirely incoherent. “Have I fucked you dumb, darling? You should know better than to ask me to fuck you harder. You know I have no control when it comes to you, Y/N.”

You cried as he slammed into you. “S’too much, Reggie. I—I can’t take anymore—“

Regulus only laughed. “That’s too fucking bad, princess. You begged like a whore, so you get fucked like one too.” He licked a stripe against your neck before leaving love bites on every surface of your skin.

There was nothing your boyfriend loved more than claiming your body like this. He smiled as you whimpered, knowing that you’d be marked and bruised for days to come. Though your cheeks were stained with tears, Regulus knew you could take more. Your body told him everything he needed to know. The way you fluttered around him indicated that you were close. He was definitely pushing your limit, but Regulus had a habit of coaxing you out of your comfort zone to provide the most mind-blowing orgasms that you’ve ever experienced.

“Cum for me, mon amour.”

White hot heat surged through your veins. You moaned his name while the orgasm crested like a wave, washing over your body like a biblical flood. For a second, it felt like your soul had left your body entirely. The phrase la petite mort flashed in your mind. The little death, the French called it.

Just when you thought that the high was finally leveling out, Regulus picked you up and placed you on the desk. He untied your wrists before kneeling between your legs. Regulus smirked as he kissed along the inside of your thighs. Those pretty eyes flashed with mischief as he bit into your flesh.

“Hang on, pretty girl. I’m not done with you yet.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as Regulus lapped up your arousal. He kissed and sucked at your wet cunt like they were hauling him off to Azkaban at any given moment. Your boyfriend grunted when you tugged at his luscious curls, utterly turned on by your roughness. When Regulus looked up at you through thick, dark lashes with his mouth dripping with your cum, you couldn’t help but shiver at the sight.

You loved seeing Regulus like this. You loved knowing that only you could awaken this dark and dangerous side of him.

“Oh god, Reg,” you keened, arching against his mouth. “Fuck, I love you.”

Regulus hummed in approval, spelling out his initials against your folds. The curve of R.A.B. branded itself into your core in the most erotic way possible. The message was clear. You belonged to Regulus and Regulus alone.

As he worked, Regulus pumped himself between his fingers. You could feel him edging towards release just as a second orgasm washed over you. Regulus looked up when you tugged at his hair.

“Don’t cum yet, baby,” you said hoarsely. “Not until you’re inside me again.”

“Mon dieu, you kill me when you say things like that.” Regulus hissed as he wrapped your legs around his waist. The groan that escaped his lips as he slipped inside of you again was downright vulgar. “My filthy fucking girl. I love being inside of you.”

You whimpered in response, bringing him closer as he pounded into you again and again. “I love when you fill me up, Reg. You’re the only one who can make me feel like this. You’re the only one who can fuck me like I need. Gods, you’re perfect.”

“You feel so fucking good,” Regulus whispered against your lips. “Gods, I’m so close.”

“I know, Reggie. I know.” You kissed him, sighing as you canted your hips to match his rhythm. “I want to feel you cum inside of me, pretty boy.”

Regulus grunted, his thrusts growing sloppy and desperate. Your words sent him over the edge and he came with a gasp, biting into your shoulder to keep himself from waking up the dungeons. You held him as the orgasm seized his body, whispering sweet nothings into his ear and following the praise with adoring kisses.

Your heart warmed as he gazed lovingly up at you. He pulled out slowly, peppering kisses all over your face but never taking his eyes off of you. The way Regulus looked at you made you feel like you were the only girl in the world.

“Reg?” you murmured.

“Yes, my love?”

“I think I like studying after all.” Regulus chuckled against your skin, his curls tickling your neck. “You’re excellent at inspiring motivation.”

“Anything for you, mon amour. I was a goner the second you called me pretty boy.”

“Is that so?” You teased, kissing the tip of his nose. “Well, you are, you know. You’re my pretty boy.”

“Don’t say that unless you’re ready for another round.”

“I’m always ready for you, Reggie. I can’t get enough.”

Regulus picked you up bridal style and carried you to the bed. “Je t'aime de tout mon cœur, my cheeky girl.”

“I love you too, Regulus Arcturus Black.” You smiled and kissed his temple. “With all my heart.”

#regulus speaking french while doing ungodly things to me when #regulus black #regulus black smut #regulus x reader #regulus x you #regulus x y/n #regulus black fic #regulus smut #regulus fic

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hanggarae · 1 year

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MON ANGE !

“what does that even mean?” you giggled at jeonghan from his side.

ever since he had come back from paris he wouldn’t stop saying it, wouldn’t stop saying ‘mon ange’ to you.

you could only assume it meant something good, a term of endearment judging by his tone, but then again your boyfriend could just be fooling you, which honestly wouldn’t come as much of a surprise.

“if you wanna know so bad then you should learn french like me” he told you with a smug look.

“you know how to say a grand total of two words. i’d bet i already know more words than you do”

“well then in that case you should be able to work out what it means shouldn’t you, mon ange?” he grinned with closed eyes.

you rolled your eyes at him before picking up your phone and opening the translate site.

“what are you doing?” jeonghan looked at you confused, “what do you need this for?”

“well since you aren’t telling me i may as well just search it”

to your surprise, he didn’t make an effort to stop you, instead wanting you to find the meaning despite being adamant on not letting you know a minute ago.

after typing the word and the site detected and translated the language, you looked at jeonghan slowly, a lovesick grin glued on your face.

“you’re so cute” you told him with a ghost of a pout on your lips that jeonghan kissed while giggling at your reaction.

“so are you, my angel”

#user itadorins posting after almost three months yahhhh !!!#my eight french lessons in year six sponsored this fic #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fluff #yoon jeonghan fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #svt x reader #svt fluff

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seven-ruins-it · 17 days

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sirius, 70s teen and rockhead, got up three hours before the others every morning to style his hair before going back to bed and laying very still on the pillow all so he could pretend it was all natural

#nobody bought it #he went from light waves to french bourgeois sheeps curls #but they all silently agreed to go along with it #the marauders #marauders #dead gay wizards #marauders era #remus lupin #marauders fanfiction #wolfstar #sirius black #marauders fanfic #marauders fic #the marauders era #marauders fandom #dead gay wizards from the 70s #marauders hc #sirius being sirius #sirius hc

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thoughtfulphilosopherhologram · 1 year

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I wrote a thing.

More to come!

#fic in french #what we do in the shadows #Nandor #Guillermo #Nandor/Guillermo #poetry

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popczykpisarz · 30 days

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Evan Rosier is so french you don't understand.

#i am writing a fic. you're not ready for Evan's ✨️frenchness✨️#marauders #ao3 fanfics #evan rosier #barty crouch jr #rosekiller #regulus black #marauders fanfic #harry potter #dead gay wizards #fanfic #writing #ao3 #marauders fics

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yyuuraii · 10 months

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animeboy baker aypierre bc im feelin silly

#aypierre #qsmp #fanart #art #yyuusart #mcyt #was drawing this whjen eating and my pen fell to my fckikng BOWL OF FRIED RICE #ive been thinkin abt the festa junina fic (insane)#i wish i know french i like him ueueue orz translator my savior

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amusl02 · 4 months

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Son of Ogre

#*proceeds to French kiss his gf*#those scenes caught me so off guard like WHAT but also aww both are down bad for each other <3 #baki hanma #baki the grappler #baki son of ogre #baki #my art #sketch #I need more girlies in the fandom like do you know how many fics this fandom has?? NOT ENOUGH #(girlies in a gender neutral way)#there’s even less fanart but I mean fandom-type of fanart if ya know what I mean #no but fr when he and his gf are in screen I feel like I gotta cover my eyes you never know when they’ll start climbing each other #BUT ALSO #it’s sort of refreshing seeing a shonen protag who seems to actually like his partner… like I was expecting a bromance not THAT #not complaining though they are cute

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bidisastersanji · 6 months

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Thanks to everyone who screamed in the tags and asked for a part two of the Roronoa “I learned French just to overhear if my crush likes men” Zoro” story. 🤡 Part one here. And a million thanks to @inoreuct for the help 🙏 You can also read it on AO3 here if you prefer. Edit: Part three here, part four here

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"WHY ARE SWORDS WOMEN!???"

"Calm down, Roronoa. They’re not women, they’re just a feminine word."

Zoro digs the palm of his hands into his eyes, hunching over the big dinner table in this godforsaken mansion on this godforsaken island. How had it come to this? He was supposed to be training to become the world’s greatest swordsman … and here he was. Stuck learning inanimate objects’ stupid imaginary gender and whatever the hell kind of tense “ plus-que-parfait ” (more-than-perfect) is.

Scattered around him are French grammar, spelling and exercise books, loose papers and empty glasses of wine. Sadly, not his own. His stupid dad mentor had decided that he was banned from drinking from his private cellars until daily lessons had ended.

Dracule Mihawk. Hawkeye. Renowned monster powerhouse, the world’s greatest swordsman, a feared warlord…is sat in reading glasses, correcting his pronunciation and teaching him the most vexing language on the planet: French.

“Are you quite finished making a scene? I’ve stopped talking exclusively French to you for many months now. Be grateful.”

Zoro presses his lips together tightly to keep himself from saying something he’ll regret. It wouldn’t do him or his crew any good to lose this opportunity to learn from the best. After the salt-shaker incident, Mihawk, quickly followed by Perona-who only wishes misery upon him- only responded to him if he spoke his broken French to them and would only speak to him in that tongue in return. His already impossibly difficult swords lessons… challenges? Whatever one would call the hellish training regimens the warlord put him through became even more impossible now that he couldn’t even understand the instructions. After a few too many close calls and instances of French being shouted at him louder and louder (saying it louder won’t make him magically understand), Mihawk changed tactics and decided to teach him the academic way instead, in the evenings after supper. Suppers which definitely didn’t leave him longing for someone else’s cooking.

Supposedly surprised at his silence (with this man, there’s no way to really tell for sure what could be going through his mind), Mihawk lowers his glasses and takes a long look at him. “And how is your reading coming along?”

Seated across from him and eating her dessert, Perona gives a loud snort, choking a bit on her strawberry shortcake. Her ever-present floating ghosts laugh a little louder, covering her badly stifled laughter as she purses her lips.

Zoro glares daggers at her, neck and ears flushing intensely. “It’s going… fine .”

In reality, his reading isn’t going “fine”. The Manor’s entire west wing is filled to the brim with the most boring, coma-inducing, self-aggrandising books on philosophy, French cuisine, land management, architecture and theology, all written in chicken scratch, old timey French. Zoro had tried his hand at reading one that seemed perhaps less bad than the others, but on his tenth try at staying awake on reading the third page describing the gothic stone arches of a church- he gave up. It felt more painstaking to spend one more second looking at another page of that book than getting sliced open by Mihawk so many months ago.

In the pits of his désespoir, his guard was down, and his alarm bells didn’t ring when Perona innocently approached him and handed him a book that looked markedly different from the rest of Mihawk’s collection. At a second glance, he realized that he’d seen that book on Sanji’s hammock-side barrel before, recognizing the distinctive lettering of “Harlequin editions” on the spine.

“Here. I’m taking pity on you. Mihawk has a secret stash of these in his personal library. They’re easier to read and will get the job done. You need to meet a quota of one a week, right?”

Out of options, Zoro silently accepted the book and retreated to his quarters. If it was good enough for the cook (and Perona?), it would be good enough for him.

His suspicions should have risen from the moment he recognised it was a work of fiction- unlike every single book he’d come across here. But no , studious mindset activated and with a dictionary on hand for any word he might not know, it took him longer than he’d care to admit to realise this was a romance book. And not just any romance book- a ludicrously explicit book detailing many, many scandalous trysts between a dark, mysterious, broody vampire and his parade of beautiful, lithe and oh-so-flirtatious nobles of all genders. He had to stop and put the book down several times, too flustered from explicit descriptions of passionately taking people against cold stone walls, bending them over various pieces of antique furniture and even tying them to extravagant four poster beds. It was too much for the poor swordsman to handle.

It was mainly the thought of the pervy cook reading this… it stirred something low within him, his thoughts running wild at the natural implication that the scenarios held within the worn pages- the rough, possessive, teasing, kinky and playful sexual acts- were all things that Sanji had read. And enjoyed. Multiple times if his memory served him right. Sanji owned this book, which meant that this was something that… aroused him. Face like a furnace and heart beating wildly, Zoro tugged at his hair, unable to cope with this new information nor the inappropriate thoughts and images his mind was conjuring involving a certain sharp-tongued blonde, his powerful thighs and unfairly biteable neck. He could almost see his fiery blue eye boring adversarially into his own, a cheeky smirk that was just begging to be kissed off-

Zoro snapped the book shut.

Fuck .

After an uncomfortably sweaty night and a glacial shower, it was only at breakfast that further implications finally clicked for the rattled swordsman. The lewd book had come, as Perona had put it, from Mihawk’s secret stash .

One: the book was Mihawk’s. That dawning realisation alone froze Zoro mid-chew, and he decided then and there that he would never be able to look the older man in the eye ever again. At least not in the same way.

I know what you are

It wasn’t difficult to make the connection between the book’s owner, a pale, recluse, wine drinking man in a manor and the book’s main vampire. Two: this was from a stash . Meaning there would be many, many more of these books in the manor. Three, because of the nature of his mentor’s “official” library (unreadable), he will de facto have to keep reading bodice-rippers for well over a year and inevitably assimilate the raunchiest, most useless lexicon known to man, in what some people call the language of love. Wonderful. Despite himself, Zoro knew he’d already memorized at least three different ways to refer to male genitalia, and that was just from reading one of those little fuckers.

Weeks, months pass, and boy had Zoro been right. And annoyingly, so had Mihawk, on how reading would drastically improve his French. (If Robin could see him now…) The smutty books came and went, courtesy of Perona, and his reliance on his dictionary diminished. As the books’ premises plunged deeper and deeper into unspeakable domains, Zoro made the firm decision to stop asking questions. For the sake of his sanity. He never again wanted Perona to share her thoughts on the "thematic beauty of the monster fucker genre". He would never fully recover from the hour-long exposé she made him on ABO dynamics. Nor could he ever recover from the knowledge that all these novels came from Dracule Mihawk’s private library .

He now knew way too much about Mihawk's kinks and sexual tastes in men, and he wished to believe in a god so he could pray to never have to address this with the man within his life. Ever.

Which is why he's currently sweating bullets at Mihawk's inquiry into his latest reads, and why Perona is looking at him like the cat that ate the canary.

Eyes darting between his two guests, the warlord's lips tug at their corners in something resembling a smile.

"I take it you haven't found the sword fighting books yet then?"

The what.

Zoro promptly chokes on his saliva, coughing aggressively into his fist, his remaining eye bulging in surprise.

"Yes, did Perona not tell you? All the baking books in the French cuisine section actually hold sword forms and techniques. My boy, what have you been reading?"

—/

Sanji had maybe had just a few too many drinks tonight. His face feels warm, his limbs are nice and relaxed- if still a bit sore from the battle- and his tongue is a little loose. He knows it's one too many when it takes him a couple of sentences to realise he and Robin are speaking French together, and he's grateful for the unconscious switch when he faintly registers that Zoro is sat not very far, by himself, just across the campfire.

That was a close one.

Robin prods him for more information on his one-night stands, and who is he to deny a lady, really? He feels the words spill from his mouth like boiling water overflowing from a pot. He hears his voice confess a truth he's not let himself face for years and blames the wine.

"En vrai ce n'est pas qu'ils ne sont pas satisfaisants... c'est qu'ils ne sont jamais...assez. "

The cook swims in half-forgotten memories of one night stands he sought out on lonely evenings at random ports. Of fumbling hands and desperate kisses, of leaving before the sun has even risen, of cold sheets and empty beds in the morning... Sanji doesn't like the bitter taste his admittance leaves in his mouth, nor the way his chest feels just a little tighter. He knows what his love-starved self really wants, what he craves most of all... is the stupidly perfect man sitting across the fire. Like a moth to a flame, he yearns to know what it would feel like. To matter . To be seen in all his flawed, weak existence, and not be thrown aside like the mistake he is. To be loved , cared for, cherished tenderly by someone as earnest and devoted as he knows the swordsman to be. It's with a bleeding heart that he finally voices his love, answering Robin on what would be enough.

"Lui. "

His finger taps the ash off his cigarette before taking another long, long drag. Forlorn, he tears his gaze away from Zoro and nearly startles at the sincere warmth he sees dancing in the archeologist's eyes.

"Tu devrais lui dire ."

(You should tell him.)

Sanji laughs at that. "Mais bien sûr. J'vais me lever, me planter devant lui et tout lui avouer. "

(But of course. I'll get up, walk right up to him and confess everything.)

A beat. Robin impassively stares back at him. Sanji knows being a devil fruit eater isn't the only similarity between her and their captain. Their stubbornness is something he knows not to underestimate. He sighs and gulps the rest of his drink down. He must be out of his goddamn mind. And maybe a little drunker than he thought he was.

"Je ne sais pas te dire non, ma chère Robin." She smiles. "Mais saches que tu n'as pas précisé dans quelle langue je devais lui parler. "

(I don't know how to say no to you, my dear Robin. But please note that you didn't specify the language I should speak to him in.)

Before she can charm him into switching to a language the Marimo understands, the cook is already skirting around the fire with slightly wobbly steps. If he can just keep his tone right, tinged with a bit of anger, then he can probably pull this off, he thinks.

“You.” He points at Zoro accusingly.

The mosshead turns to face him, an unreadable expression on his face. “Me?”

Sanji doesn’t linger on it, all his mental capacity concentrating on making sure he uses French at the right moments.

“Yes, you fucking ange tombé du ciel , I have some words for you. Some mots doux if you will, so just sit tight and listen. You owe me after I saved your ass earlier.”

(Angel fallen from heaven; sweet words)

Surprised that Zoro doesn’t contradict him on the “saving his ass” part, he doesn’t stop to think and squashes the little voice inside him that questions why he’s going through with this.

Sanji fully planned on a heartfelt rant about all the idiot swordsman’s qualities- how unfair it is that he has it all. He really did. but he also feels a sudden shyness overtake him now that he’s standing in front of the idiot in question. To look Zoro in the eyes while saying such embarrassing, emotional shit won't do, and Sanji’s eyes make the mistake of looking down- only to be met with the tantalising sight of a broad, scarred chest and crossed arms that do nothing to hide the strong, corded muscle underneath. Oh, f uck me. His fake annoyance becomes partially real.

"Enfoiré! comment jsuis supposé te résister, hein? " He indignantly waves his cigarette around.

(You bastard! How am I supposed to resist you, huh?)

"Non mais vraiment- est ce que t’as la moindre idée de l’effet que t’as quand tu te balades torse nu sur le pont, tout dégoulinant de sueur? Ou de l’effet que les bruits que tu fait durant tes entraînements ont sur moi? J’ai qu’à fermer mes yeux et c’est- je…” he can feel his ears burning. Fuck it. Why not let it all out, he’ll feel better afterwards.

( No, but really- do you have any idea of the effect you have when you walk shirtless on deck, dripping with sweat? Or how the noises you make during your workouts affect me? All I have to do is close my eyes and it's- I...)

“Tu me rends fou. Après nos combats c’est si facile d’imaginer tes mains calleuses m’aggrippant possessivement, ta peau salée sur ma langue, ton torse haletant d’effort, ton regard enflammé -”

( You drive me crazy. After our fights it's so easy to imagine your calloused hands gripping me possessively, your salty skin on my tongue, your torso panting with effort, your fiery gaze -)

Still sat in front of Sanji, Zoro’s face is turning red and he’s shooting Sanji a heated look, no doubt irritated about being ranted at in French. Tough shit. Sanji wasn’t done.

“T’es si favorisé par les dieux, je suis même sûr que ta bite est énorme. Et puis si tu savais ce que je te laisserais me faire- ” he rolls his eyes and snorts, hoping the exasperation part of his rant is convincingly coming through.

(You're so favoured by the gods, I'm pretty sure you even have a huge dick. And if you knew what I'd let you do to me-)

Zoro’s mouth parts in shock, and a small anxious thought crosses Sanji’s mind- but there’s absolutely no way in hell the shitty mosshead knows French. He would sooner know his left from his right.

“Dis moi.” (Tell me.)

“Tell you what, stupid marimo-” it takes a couple of seconds for the cook to comprehend what just happened, and a strangled noise crawls its way out of his throat. Everything comes to a halt, his world crumbles down. Oh no. Oh no .

Zoro rises to his feet and steps into his space, a dangerously sinful grin across his face. At this point Sanji’s brain has fully stopped working, and it’s all he can do to gape stupidly back at him, face redder than it’s ever been.

“Dis moi. ” he repeats, voice low and so foreign sounding as it tries to replicate the right intonation of Sanji’s mother tongue. “Ou si tu préfères je peux te dire ce que je voudrais bien te faire, moi.”

( Tell me. Or if you prefer, I can tell you what I'd like to do to you.)

Warm blood bursts forth from Sanji’s nose, and his world turns black.

#zosan fic #zoro x sanji #zoro learns french story #zoro learns french #sanji x zoro #black leg sanji #roronoa zoro #writing the mihawk part was just so fun #as requested Zoro speaks french to sanji and oh boi #one piece zosan #please let me know if you liked it! im so self conscious of my french haha

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