#I really liked the official Pride piece

[hideawayfairy]

Nonbinary Day isn't over just yet! I commissioned @impassociate to make me this wonderful piece of my sona wearing her colors! My sona, just like myself, is a nonbinary woman who uses she/they pronouns!

[cutiesigh]

❤️🖤🩷

Wuthering Waves has taken over all of my free time recently, so here's a sketch of Scar!Ren I originally shared in da 14DWY Discord!!

[sirfrogsworth]

How do you take a photo of time?

I've been watching the track events at the Olympics since I was a wee lad. It was a tradition in our family. We'd gather around our ancient low-definition 19 inch CRT television and watch tiny blobs compete against other tiny blobs and root for our country.

It was a bit like watching YouTube on your phone in 144p.

Several heroes emerged.

Jackie Joyner-Kersee was amazing.

You can't forget about Flo-Jo.

And then the Olympics decided NBA players were allowed in the competition.

Which formed... The Dream Team.

Was this fair?

Well... they won each game by an average of 44 points.

So... no. It was not fair.

Though it became more fair as time went on.

But, umm... yeah. The other teams looked like the Washington Generals and the US looked like the Harlem Globetrotters if they stopped screwing around half of the game.

But my absolute favorite Olympian was a runner named Michael Johnson.

He was cool as heck.

For one thing... gold shoes.

But he also had this crazy, upright, Tom Cruise-ish sprinting style that just made him look like a running robot on the track.

And in the 1996 Atlanta games he just trounced EVERYONE. I mean, it wasn't even close.

Yikes. Those losing blobs are probably really embarrassed.

Last night I decided to invigorate my nostalgia and watch the track events again. And I got to see one of the wildest races in history.

It didn't even last 10 seconds but it was one of the most exciting sporting events I've ever witnessed. Almost every runner won the race.

After I saw that initially, I was like... who the heck won???

Even in slow motion I wasn't sure.

This was one of the closest finishes in history. There has never been a race where all 8 runners were within this margin.

The arena was silent as the winner was being confirmed. The runners just kind of paced around waiting for official word. My best guess was the Jamaican runner, Kishane Thompson. But then the loudspeaker announced Noah Lyles.

The last tiny morsel of American pride burst out of me with a big "Wooooo!"

I forgot what it was like to be proud of my country. I wish it happened more often. But this young man, despite being last place in the first 3rd of the race, turned on the afterburners and won in a photo finish.

And that's when my inner nerd took over.

Because when they showed the photo finish image, it looked super weird.

Why is the track white?

Why do all of the runners look all warpy like that QWOP game?

So I went down a research rabbit hole to figure this out.

Photo finishes are actually fascinating. The first photo finish captured the end of a horse race in 1890. But that was mostly luck and timing. The actual photo finish mechanisms weren't used until 1937.

Originally they would film the finish line through a physical slit.

And the first horsie head that appeared in that slit would be the winner. This technology ended a huge aspect of corruption in horse race fixing almost overnight.

But we have come a long way since then. And I'd like to introduce you to the Omega Scan 'O' Vision Ultimate.

This slow motion camera sits fixed on the finish line of every race. The concept of the photo finish has remained remarkably similar to the 1930s approach. The camera sensor is specially designed to only record a vertical slit.

Only the finish line itself is actually captured.

And because it limits what it records to only that slit, it can capture 40,000 frames per second to get amazing temporal resolution.

So why don't the photo finishes just look like, well... this?

That is because the camera takes a picture of time more-so than dimensional space. I guess it would be more accurate to say it *assembles* a picture of time.

As the runners cross the finish line, the camera combines all of the little strips of pictures into a single image.

It's almost like if you tried to reassemble a piece of paper after it had been shredded.

Imagine each strip of paper is a picture of ONLY the finish line, just at a slightly different point in time.

What if someone stopped on the finish line and didn't move... what would that look like?

Once they got there, the same part of their body would just be repeated.

So the right side of the photo finish picture represents earlier in time and it just assembles the image strip by strip as time passes and you literally get a picture of time itself.

NEAT!

Okay, but how do they determine the winner from the photo finish?

I mean, that shoe looks like it is ahead of Noah Lyles!

Clavicles!

The IAFF rules state the foremost part of the torso must cross the finish line first. And the endpoint of the torso is the outer end of the clavicle.

So if you get this bone across the finish line first, you win the race.

Two more fun facts!

The start of the race is actually just as carefully timed as the end of the race. There are sensors in the starting blocks of each runner.

The starting gun also has an electronic sensor.

They have determined the fastest a human can react to the sound of a gun is roughly 100 milliseconds. So if you start running before 100 milliseconds they know you didn't actually hear the gun, you just got antsy and started running too early.

And the final fun fact...

Did you notice the Omega logo at the top of the photo finish?

That isn't superimposed or added after the fact. That is captured by the camera.

But if this image is composed only of tiny little slivers, how did they get the Omega logo to show up?

That is a little display. And it is synchronized with the Scan 'O' Vision Ultimate to show a little sliver of the Omega logo for each frame captured.

So when the final image is stitched together, it looks like a cohesive logo at the top of the photo.

Pretty clever, Omega!

[loveanton]

off my face | lee anton

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: your best friend has been in love with you for years but you’ve been too blind to notice.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: best friend!anton x f!reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: angst, fluff, suggestive

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 4.5k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: underage drinking, partying, drunk kisses, makeouts, pls let me know if i missed anything

⏤ 𝑎/n: finally finished my finals so this is a lil self indulgent piece hehe

“I’m officially done with my exams!”

Anton smiles at you through his phone as he watches you vigorously shake your device out of excitement. You’re practically glowing, a mixture of relief and joy lighting up your features. Anton’s heart swells with pride. He’s always known how dedicated and hardworking you are, but seeing you like this makes him realize just how far you’ve come. You’d conquered another milestone, and he can't help but feel immensely proud of you.

He remembers all the late-night study sessions, the moments of doubt you’d shared, and the unwavering determination in your eyes. You’re amazing. He admires your strength, your perseverance, and the way you made everything seem possible. Anton has always been your biggest cheerleader, silently supporting you from the sidelines, even though he wishes he could do more. But right now, he’s just happy to see you so happy.

"Congratulations," Anton finally says, his voice warm and full of genuine pride.

"Thank you!" you beam, your eyes sparkling with gratitude. “Not gonna lie, I wrote complete bs for half the exam, after answering what I knew and adding up the points I gave up when I realized I had enough to pass the class.”

Anton snorts at your confession, “let’s pray your math wasn’t off then.”

You hum, “lets pray I actually got those questions right otherwise I’m screwed.”

The two of you laugh at your words before a beat of silence falls over the two of you. Anton hesitates for a moment, then decides to go for it. "So, what would you like me to buy you as a gift for finishing off your junior year?" he asks, his tone playful but sincere. He wants to celebrate this achievement with you, to make this moment even more special.

Your eyes widen in surprise, a smile spreading across your face. "Really? You don't have to—"

"I want to," Anton interrupts, a mischievous grin forming. "Come on, name your reward."

You laugh, thinking for a moment before answering. "Well, if you're sure... How about that new book series I've been eyeing?"

"Consider it done," Anton says, already mentally noting to order it as soon as possible. He wants to see that smile on your face in person, wants to be the reason for your happiness, even if just a little bit.

Just then, the door to Anton’s room opens, and Eunseok pokes his head in. He notices Anton on the phone and grins, stepping fully into the room. "Hey, who's that?" he asks, leaning closer to the screen.

You giggle and wave. "Hi, Eunseok! Guess what? I’m officially done with my exams!"

"Hey! That’s awesome! Congrats!" Eunseok says, his enthusiasm infectious. "So, Anton’s getting you something nice, right?"

"Yeah, he’s getting me a book series I wanted," you say, your excitement evident.

Eunseok smiles, "Want me to buy you something too?"

Your eyes sparkle with mischief. "Wait, really?”

He nods his head once and hums, “Yeah. Anything else you have your heart set on?”

“Want to take me out for some kbbq?"

Eunseok laughs, nodding. "Sure, Korean BBQ it is. I’ll text you to pick a date."

Anton forces a smile, trying to hide his disappointment. "Great, that sounds like a lot of fun."

You beam, clearly thrilled. "Awesome! Thanks, Eunseok. And thanks again, Anton, for the book series."

"Of course," Anton says, his voice softer now. "I’m really proud of you."

After a few more exchanges, Eunseok and Anton say their goodbyes, and you hang up. The moment the call ends, Anton feels a heavy weight settle in his chest. He can't shake off the sadness that you so eagerly accepted Eunseok's offer and that you would be going out to eat with him. It felt a bit too intimate, and jealousy gnaws at him.

Anton sulks around the dorm, trying to distract himself but failing miserably. Later on, once everyone has eaten and gotten ready for bed, Anton sits in the common area still pouting and eating an apple after skipping out on dinner because Eunseok was in charge of cooking tonight. Wonbin notices his friend's gloomy demeanor and approaches him with concern.

"Hey, what's got you all pouty?" Wonbin asks, nudging Anton gently.

Anton sighs, running a hand through his hair. "It's nothing. Just... feeling a bit off, I guess."

Wonbin raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Come on, what is it? I know something's bothering you."

Anton hesitates, then finally gives in. "It's just... ____’s done with her exams and I offered to buy her a gift, she was really happy about it. But then Eunseok came in and offered to buy her something too and she accepted without a second thought. It just... I don’t know, it feels different."

Wonbin nods, understanding dawning on his face. "Ah, I see. You're feeling jealous."

"Yeah," Anton admits quietly. "I know it's stupid, but I can't help it. I’ve been in love with her for years, and she doesn’t even see me that way. And now she’s going out with Eunseok... it just hurts."

Wonbin claps a reassuring hand on Anton's shoulder. "Hey, it’s not stupid. Feelings are complicated. But maybe it's time to tell her how you really feel. Who knows, she might feel the same way."

Anton looks at Wonbin, a mixture of hope and fear in his eyes. "Maybe. I just don’t want to ruin what we have."

"Sometimes you have to take a risk to get what you really want," Wonbin says softly. "And you deserve to be happy too, Anton."

Anton nods, taking a deep breath. "Thanks, Wonbin. I’ll think about it."

As he walks back to his shared room, Anton's mind races with thoughts of you, the possibilities, and the courage he would need to finally confess his feelings. But for now, he just hopes you’re happy, even if it isn’t with him.

The next day, you head over to Anton’s dorm, excited to pick up the gift and hang out with your best friend. The sun is shining brightly, and there’s a lightness in your step as you approach the familiar building. When you knock on his door, it opens almost immediately, and Anton greets you with a warm smile.

"Hey! Come in," he says, stepping aside to let you enter.

"Thanks," you reply, stepping into the cozy space. The dorm has always felt like a second home to you, a place filled with fond memories and shared moments.

Anton walks the two of you to his room before going over to his desk and picks up a carefully wrapped package. "Here it is," he says, handing it to you with a shy grin.

You take the package, your eyes widening in surprise. "Wow, you wrapped it and everything! How did you get it so fast?"

Anton chuckles. "The perks of Amazon Prime," he replies, looking pleased with your reaction.

You laugh and start to unwrap the gift, revealing the book series you’ve been wanting. Your heart swells with gratitude, and you look up at Anton with a beaming smile. "Thank you so much, Anton! This is perfect."

"I’m glad you like it," he says softly, watching as you flip through the pages of the first book.

Just then, your phone buzzes with a text from your roommate. You glance at the screen and read the message. “Ouu, Mina just texted me about a party."

You look up at Anton, excitement and a hint of mischief in your eyes. "Do you wanna come with me? It’ll be a great way to celebrate."

Anton hesitates, his brow furrowing slightly. "A party? I don’t know... that’s not really my scene."

"Please, Anton," you say, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes. "It would mean a lot to me if you came. We can have fun together, and it’s a good chance to let loose before I leave for the summer."

He sighs, but the look in your eyes makes it impossible for him to say no. "Alright, I’ll go," he agrees, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Yay! Thank you!" you exclaim, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. "You’re the best, Anton."

He hugs you back, savoring the moment before you pull away. "I’ll see you later then. I need to get ready," you say, heading for the door.

"See you later," Anton replies, watching you leave with a fond look in his eyes.

After you’ve gone, Anton turns to find his roommates. He finds all six of them in the common area, discussing their plans for the evening. "Hey, guys. We’re going to a party tonight," Anton announces.

"A party? Are you sure you want to go?" Sungchan asks.

Sohee nods, “yeah, I never pegged you as the party going type.

Anton sends a sharp glare their way. “____ invited me, I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

"I’m sure it will," Wonbin adds, glancing at Anton. He remembers the conversation they had last night and grins. "So, is this the night you finally tell her how you feel?"

Anton’s cheeks flush slightly. "Ahhh, hyung!"

Eunseok raises an eyebrow. "Wait, tell who what?"

Wonbin nudges the younger male. "Anton’s in love with ____. Has been for years."

All the boy's eyes widen in surprise, as they stare at their youngest in shock. Shotaro is the first to react, he breaks into a wide grin. "Really? That’s awesome! We need to make sure you confess tonight."

Anton groans. "No. Guys, please. I don’t want to make it a big deal."

His words go right over everyone's heads as they start coming up with a masterplan to help out their brother.

"Don’t worry, Anton," Wonbin says with a mischievous glint in his eye. "We’ve got your back. Tonight’s the night."

Anton sighs, knowing there’s no stopping them. As the evening approaches, the dorm buzzes with excitement. The guys are all determined to help Anton confess his feelings to you by the end of the party, and Anton can only hope that everything goes well.

___

Back in your dorm, you and Mina are getting ready for the party. The room is filled with the upbeat music Mina insists on playing whenever you two are preparing for a night out. You’re both rifling through your closets, trying on different outfits, and swapping opinions on what looks best.

“This party is going to be amazing,” Mina says, holding up a sparkly top against herself and checking the mirror. “Are you sure Anton’s coming?”

“Of course,” you reply, slipping into the black dress you finally settled on. “I convinced him. He’s not really into parties, but he agreed to come.”

Mina grins and raises an eyebrow. “You know, that’s probably because he has a thing for you. So, when are you going to confess your feelings?”

You roll your eyes, waving off her comment. “We’re just friends, Mina. He doesn’t see me like that.”

Mina gives you a skeptical look. “Are you sure about that? You two are pretty close, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“Seriously, it’s not like that,” you insist, feeling a twinge of discomfort. You don’t want to get your hopes up or think about the possibility of Anton seeing you as more than a friend. “Let’s drop it, okay?”

Mina shrugs, sensing the finality in your tone. “Alright, alright. But if you change your mind, tonight could be the perfect time.”

You finish getting ready in silence, both focused on your makeup and hair. Once you’re satisfied with your looks, you grab your bags and head out the door, excitement bubbling within you for the night ahead.

The party is already in full swing by the time you and Mina arrive. The house is packed with people, music blaring, and laughter echoing through the rooms. You’re greeted by a wave of familiar faces, everyone eager to chat and offer you drinks.

Anton stands off to the side, trying to blend into the background while watching you interact with ease. He sees guys coming up to you, talking and laughing, some even offering you drinks. A pang of jealousy hits him, but he tries to push it aside.

Sungchan, noticing Anton’s brooding expression, decides to take action. He grabs two drinks and walks over to Anton, shoving them into his hands. “Here, take these. Go talk to her. Stop sulking.”

Anton hesitates but knows Sungchan is right. He takes a deep breath and walks over to you, hoping to get a moment alone.

You notice Anton approaching and smile brightly. “Hey! I’m so glad you made it.”

“Hey,” he replies, handing you one of the drinks. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

The two of you find a quieter corner and start chatting about your summer plans. You excitedly tell him about your upcoming girls’ trip to Tulum, and he shares his plans to go on tour with the boys before heading back to New Jersey to spend time with his family.

“I’m so excited for you,” you say, genuinely happy for him. “Touring sounds incredible.”

“Thanks,” Anton says, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “And Tulum sounds amazing. You’re going to have so much fun.”

Just as you’re about to dive into another topic, Sohee appears out of nowhere, grabbing both of your arms. “Hey, you two! Come on, we’re starting a drinking game in the basement. You have to join us!”

You laugh, allowing Sohee to drag you towards the basement. “Alright, alright, we’re coming!”

Anton follows, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

The basement is filled with a mix of excitement and apprehension as everyone gathers around in a circle for the game. The room is dimly lit, creating an intimate atmosphere perfect for a game of Dare or Drink. Sohee stands in the center, holding an empty bottle, and addresses the group with a mischievous grin.

"Alright, losers," Sohee announces loudly, "we're playing Dare or Drink. It's pretty self-explanatory, but here are the rules: we spin the bottle, and if it lands on you, you either do the dare or take a drink. Got it?"

Everyone nods, a mix of nervous laughter and anticipation rippling through the group. Seunghan is the first to spin the bottle, and it lands on Chaemin. The room holds its breath as he smirks.

"Alright, Chaemin," Seunghan says, leaning forward, "I dare you to kiss the person next to you."

Chaemin's eyes widen, her cheeks turning pink as she looks to her side and sees Shotaro. She bites her lip, hesitating. Shotaro's face is already turning red, a nervous smile on his lips. Chaemin quickly decides and grabs her drink, taking a big gulp instead of completing the dare.

You giggle, noticing Shotaro's embarrassment, and pat his shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry, Shotaro. Maybe next time," you say with a playful wink.

Chaemin, still blushing, spins the bottle next. It twirls around before pointing at Wonbin. She grins mischievously. "Wonbin, I dare you to strip and go skinny dipping with me."

The room erupts in cheers and laughter, the boys howling at the suggestion. Wonbin, however, chuckles and shakes his head, opting to take a drink instead.

Sohee rolls her eyes dramatically. "Come on, guys! This game is boring if no one does the dares. Step it up!"

With a determined look, Wonbin spins the bottle, and it lands on Anton. Anton's eyes widen as everyone hoots and hollers, anticipating the dare.

"Alright, Anton," Wonbin says, his voice dripping with mischief, "I dare you to make out with the hottest girl in the room."

The group falls silent, all eyes on Anton as he blushes furiously. You can feel your own cheeks heating up, heart pounding as you wait to see what he'll do. Anton looks around nervously, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than the others.

Anton hesitates, his mind racing. He can feel the weight of everyone's eyes on him, especially yours. The truth is, he already knows who the hottest girl in the room is to him, but saying it out loud and acting on it in front of everyone feels daunting.

With a deep breath, he glances at you again, the unspoken feelings swirling in his eyes. "I—"

But before he can finish, the group erupts in cheers and laughter again, breaking the tension. Anton, still flustered, grabs his drink and takes a large gulp, avoiding the dare.

You can't help but feel a mix of relief and disappointment. You give him a supportive smile, hoping to ease his nerves. Anton looks at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and something else you can't quite place. The game continues, but you and Anton share a few more glances, the unspoken tension between you growing stronger with each passing moment.

As the game progresses and the drinks flow, the atmosphere in the basement becomes increasingly lively. Laughter fills the air, and the group becomes more daring with each spin of the bottle. You’ve mostly opted for drinks over dares, feeling the effects of the alcohol start to kick in. Your inhibitions are lowered, and a warm buzz settles over you as you join in the fun.

It's your turn again, and you watch as Sohee gives the bottle a playful spin. It twirls around before slowing down and pointing directly at you. The room erupts into cheers and laughter, and you can't help but giggle nervously as all eyes turn to you.

Sohee grins mischievously. "Alright, ____, I dare you to kiss the most attractive male in the room."

You scoff, feeling emboldened by the alcohol coursing through your veins. "Pfft, easy," you say with a playful smirk.

Without hesitation, you turn to Anton, your heart pounding in your chest. His eyes widen in surprise, his cheeks flushing as he meets your gaze. The room falls silent, anticipation hanging thick in the air.

With a boldness you didn’t know you possessed, you lean in and press your lips against his, the kiss soft but filled with an undeniable electricity. Cheers erupt from the group as they watch in amazement, some even whistling and hollering in approval.

For a moment, everything fades away except for the sensation of Anton’s lips against yours, the warmth of his embrace, and the pounding of your heart. It feels like time slows down, and you lose yourself in the moment, forgetting about everything else but the connection between you and Anton.

When you finally pull away, breathless and flushed, the room erupts into cheers and applause. Anton stares at you, his eyes wide with surprise and something else you can't quite place.

Sohee claps you on the back, grinning from ear to ear. "Now that's what I call a dare!" he exclaims, earning laughter and agreement from the others.

As the cheers and applause die down, you begin to realize the weight of what just happened. Your heart races with a mix of nerves and excitement, unsure of what this means for your relationship with Anton.

Anton's eyes meet yours, his expression unreadable as he stands and reaches out to take your hand, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Come on," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Let's get out of here."

You feel a pang of disappointment as Anton leads you away from the group, away from the pulsating energy of the party. A part of you wants to stay, to revel in the adrenaline rush of the moment, but another part knows that you need to talk, to figure out what this kiss means for your friendship.

But as Anton guides you up the stairs, you can't help but whine, dragging your feet like a child being dragged away from their favorite toy. "But I don't want to leave," you protest, your voice slurred from the alcohol. "I'm having fun."

Anton shoots you a warning look, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "____, we need to talk," he says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Reluctantly, you follow him into an empty bedroom, the noise of the party fading into the background. Anton closes the door behind you, and for a moment, there's nothing but silence between you.

"I..." Anton starts, his voice trailing off as he struggles to find the right words. "I don't know what this means for us, but... that kiss, it felt..."

Before he can finish, you cut him off with a giggle, swaying unsteadily on your feet. "Anton, you're overthinking it," you say with a drunken smile. "Let's just go back to the party."

But Anton shakes his head, a determined look in his eyes. "No, we need to talk about this."

You pout, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by the seriousness of the situation. "Fine," you mumble, crossing your arms over your chest.

Anton sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He realizes that you're too drunk to have a proper conversation, too caught up in the moment to fully understand the implications of what just happened. With a heavy heart, he decides to abandon the conversation for now, knowing that it's pointless to try to reason with you in your current state.

Instead, he takes a deep breath and gently guides you out of the room, back towards his dorm. You stumble slightly, leaning on him for support as you navigate the streets together.

When you finally reach his room, Anton helps you onto his bed, tucking you in with gentle hands. You mumble a sleepy thank you, already drifting off into a drunken slumber.

Anton watches you for a moment, his heart heavy with uncertainty. He knows that things will never be the same between you, that this kiss has changed everything. But as he looks down at your sleeping form, a small smile tugs at his lips. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the beginning of something new.

With a sigh, he turns away, grabbing a makeup wipe to gently wipe off your makeup. He changes you into one of his oversized shirts and a pair of his boxers, making sure to avert his eyes as he does so.

Once you're settled, he takes a pillow and a blanket, making himself comfortable on the floor beside the bed. He knows that he needs to be there for you, to take care of you, even if it means sacrificing his own comfort.

As he drifts off to sleep, thoughts of you swirl through his mind. He feels nervous about what the future holds for your friendship, but also excited at the possibility of something more. And as he falls asleep beside you, he knows that whatever happens, he'll always be there for you, ready to support you through whatever comes your way.

The morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow into Anton's room. You slowly blink your eyes open, groaning at the pounding headache that greets you. As you try to piece together the events of last night, memories flood back to you in bits and pieces. The party, the drinking, the kiss...

Your heart sinks as you realize where you are. You sit up slowly, the room spinning slightly as you take in your surroundings. You're in Anton's room, and the memories of the drunken kiss flood back to you with embarrassing clarity. You feel stupid for letting things get out of hand, for letting your feelings show in such a reckless way.

As you start to get dressed, pulling on your pants with shaky hands, the door creaks open and Anton enters, carrying a glass of water and some pills. You freeze, your heart racing as you meet his gaze. There's a moment of awkward silence as you both stand there, unsure of what to say.

Anton breaks the silence first, holding out the water and pills to you. "Here," he says softly, his voice gentle. "You'll feel better after you take these."

You take the medicine gratefully, mumbling a small thank you as you swallow the pills with a sip of water. Anton watches you carefully, his expression unreadable as he waits for you to speak.

Finally, he clears his throat, his voice hesitant. "About last night...," he starts, trailing off as he searches for the right words. "I wanted to talk to you about the kiss."

Your heart sinks even further, and you feel a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Oh, uh... yeah," you mumble, trying to play it off casually. "It was just a stupid drunken kiss. We were both drunk, and I... I didn't mean anything by it."

Anton's gaze softens, and you can see the doubt flickering in his eyes. He takes a step towards you, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do you mean that?" he asks, his tone gentle but insistent. "Or... do you have feelings for me?"

You feel a lump forming in your throat, and you struggle to find the right words. "I... I don't know," you admit, feeling flustered and exposed under his gaze. "It was just a... a stupid mistake."

But Anton knows you're lying, knows you're trying to brush off something that meant more to both of you than you're willing to admit. With a newfound confidence, he takes another step towards you, closing the distance between you.

"____," he says softly, reaching up to caress your cheek with trembling fingers. "I've loved you for years. That kiss... it meant everything to me."

You stare up at him in shock, your heart pounding in your chest. You're not sure how to respond, not sure if you're ready to face the truth of your feelings for him. But before you can say anything, Anton leans in, his lips capturing yours in a gentle, hesitant kiss.

For a moment, everything fades away except for the warmth of Anton's embrace, the softness of his lips against yours. As the kiss deepens, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer, Anton hums, his right hand slides under your hair to rest on your neck.

You quietly moan when he spreads your mouth with his and slips his tongue into your wet mouth. Anton’s fingers are tangled in your hair, his thumb resting on the side of your face. He tilts his head and deepens the kiss. He moans when he wraps his tongue around yours. He rests his other hand on the small of your back as he reclines you slowly, carefully, until you are laying down and he is hovering over you. He retracts his left hand from your back and starts to slowly rub circles on the inside of your thighs.

You slightly push him away feeling overwhelmed with all the new sensations but you know you need to tell him this before anything else happens, “I love you too.”

Anton smiles down at you and pecks your lips once more, “I love you more.”

In that moment you feel a sense of completeness wash over you, a feeling of rightness that you've never experienced before. As you lose yourself in his eyes, in the warmth and safety of Anton's embrace, you know that this is just the beginning of your journey together, the start of something beautiful and true.

[betweenstorms]

Where Ghosts Linger Obsessed!Simon x fem!Reader

In honor of both kinktober and spooktober, I’ve stepped out of my comfort zone to write something darker. Imagining Simon in this twisted scenario wasn’t easy, but I wanted to push the boundaries and see where it would take me. Hope you enjoy this eerie little experiment!

TW: contains themes of obsession, depression, alcoholism, violence, child abuse, self-harm and non-consensual behavior. It includes dark psychological elements and emotional distress. Please read with caution.

London. Fucking London.

A city that thrived on misery and despair, where the air was thick with the stench of piss and where Simon Riley found himself suffocating in his own personal hell. He hated the crowded streets, the gray, lifeless sky, and the dirty rain that seemed to wash away any trace of hope. London was a festering wound, and Simon was stuck in it, rotting from the inside out.

His apartment was a reflection of that rot. A shithole in Southwark that was as neglected as he was. The landlord didn’t give a shit about it, and neither did Simon. Why bother? This place was a bloody tomb, and he was just another fucking corpse waiting to decompose in it. The walls were stained with years of filth and smoke, the paint peeling off like the skin of some dying beast. He lived in dirt, where he belonged, surrounded by the remnants of a life that felt like it belonged to someone else.

The medals on the shelf, once a source of pride, now sat gathering dust, their shine dulled by time and indifference. A painful reminder of who he had been, and who he would never be again. He’d been an elite soldier, a protector, a fucking weapon. But that life was over, dead and buried just like the people he’d failed to protect.

Now, he was nothing but a broken-down wreck, a ghost haunting the ruins of his own past.

How pathetic.

It had been a year since the army had tossed him out on his arse, like a piece of shit they couldn’t be bothered to flush. ‘Early retirement’ was the official story, but Simon knew better. He’d seen their looks, heard their whispers. They thought he was broken, fucked in the head. And they were right. The nightmares, the flashbacks, the undying rage that simmered just below the surface of his inked skin, ready to explode at the slightest provocation—they were all signs that something inside him had snapped. And it had.

The day Johnny died, the last bit of humanity in him had died too.

All that was left was anger, grief, and a deep hatred for the world and himself.

The military forced him out after he nearly killed a rookie during a training exercise. He could still hear the bone breaking, still feel the flesh tearing under his bare hand. It had taken four men to pull Simon off, and even then, he’d been like a rabid dog, snarling and spitting, desperate to finish what he’d started.

After that, there was no saving him. They gave him some bullshit about ‘rest and recovery,’ about how he needed to ‘take time for himself.’ But he knew what they meant. They wanted him gone, out of sight, out of mind. Another broken soldier thrown on the scrap heap, just another casualty of a war that never really ended.

Most days, he was angry. So fucking angry that it felt like he was burning from the inside out, like his veins were full of liquid fire.

He’d go out looking for something, anything to let the rage out before it consumed him. He’d pick fights in pubs, in alleys, in abandoned sites, anywhere he could find some poor bastard who looked at him the wrong way. It didn’t matter if he won or lost either.

On the days when the anger wasn’t there, he felt nothing.

Just a cold, hollow emptiness that left him numb and disconnected from everything. Those were the days when he couldn’t bring himself to leave his soulless flat, when he’d sit in that creaky old armchair and drink himself into oblivion with cheap whiskey.

Those were the days he feared the most too—the days when he didn’t care if he lived or died, when the gun in the drawer seemed like the only way out of the endless nightmare.

Something always stopped him before he could pull the trigger.

Maybe it was cowardice, or maybe it was some small, stubborn part of him that still clung to life, even though he didn’t know why. Whatever it was, it kept him going, kept him trapped in this limbo of existence. He would get up, go through the motions, take his pills, and try to convince himself that tomorrow might be different, even though he knew it wouldn’t be.

Sometimes, he tried to fight it and hold on to some semblance of a life. He’d wake up at dawn, like he used to, force himself to shave, to shower, to eat. He’d try to follow the old routine, the one that had kept him sane during all those years of deployment.

However, it never worked. He’d been a soldier, a man with purpose, but now he was nothing. Just a useless, sick in the head, broken piece of shit, abandoned by the only thing that had ever given his miserable life any meaning.

To ease the pain, he walked during the night and slept through the day. The only time he could find any peace was under the dark sky, the only time the voices in his head quieted down, even if just for a little while. Sometimes he was drunk, stumbling through the dirty streets like a wraith, barely able to keep himself upright. Other times, he was sober, the cold night air cutting through the fog in his mind, sharpening the edges of his thoughts. He wandered the shitty, empty streets of the worst parts of London for hours, sometimes until the sun started to rise, trying to outrun the demons that haunted him.

It was on one of those nights when he saw you for the first time.

It was a cold, damp night in October, the kind that seeped into your bones and made you feel like you would never be warm again. He was sober, or maybe he just felt that way due to the cold, because for once his mind clearer than it had been for a seemingly endless year.

His father’s face flashed before his eyes, twisted and angry, the same expression the bastard always wore when he was about to beat the living shit out of him. Simon could almost feel the blows, the sting of the belt, the sharp pain of a fist connecting with his ribs. He’d learned early on not to cry. Crying only made it worse. So he’d learned to take it like a man, to bury the pain deep down where it couldn’t touch him. But that pain had never really gone away. It had just festered, turned into something dark and ugly that had followed him his whole life.

And then there was the memory that haunted him most of all.

The day he’d come home to find lifeless bodies in his childhood home, his family slaughtered because of him. Because of a bloody mission that had gone sideways, because he hadn’t been fast enough, smart enough, good enough. He’d dug himself out of a grave with a fucking rotting jaw, only to find his brother, his dear mother, his baby nephew—all of them dead, butchered like mere animals because of him. He will never forget the sweet, nose-wrenching stench of corpses and blood that filled the house.

That was the day Simon Riley had died.

The day Ghost had been born.

He was so lost in these thoughts that he almost walked right past you. How could he do that?

Walk past you.

Oh you. You were standing under a rusty streetlamp, the rain forming a mist around you that caught the orange light in a soft, golden halo. For a moment, Simon thought he was seeing things. Maybe he wasn’t as sober as he thought, and the whiskey he’d downed earlier was playing tricks on him. Because you didn’t look real.

You looked like something out of a dream. A hallucination.

You were dressed simply, in clothes that were too thin for the cold weather, but Simon barely noticed. It was your face that held his attention, the way the light played across your skin, making it glow against the backdrop of the city. Your hair was wet, locks sticking to your cheeks and shoulders, but you made no effort to brush them away. They hid your eyes for a moment before you shifted slightly, looking down at your phone and he saw them—eyes that seemed to stare right into his pathetic soul.

For a seemingly endless moment, Simon just stood there, staring at you, feeling like the ground had been pulled out from under him.

You didn’t belong here, in this ugly, rundown part of London, in the middle of a miserable night. And then, out of the blue, a sudden, crazy thought flickered through his broken mind.

Maybe you were waiting for him.

The thought was absurd, ridiculous even, but it latched onto Simon's twisted mind with the tenacity of a pitbull, refusing to let go. Maybe you were there for him, a bloody angel in the midst of this wretched city, just standing there in the piss-poor rain as if you didn't belong to the same shitty world that had turned him into this... thing.

This broken, hollow shell of a man.

He shook his head, trying to clear the fog of desperation that clouded his better judgment, but it didn’t help. The sight of you had triggered something deep inside him, something he hadn’t felt ever. It was like a spark had been ignited in the pitch-black darkness of his mind, a tiny flicker of light that he was terrified would go out if he didn’t hold on to it. Maybe it was the booze still swirling in his body, maybe it was the years of torment and guilt twisting his brain into knots, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He couldn’t stop himself from believing, if only for a moment, that you were meant for him.

He took a step closer, the soles of his black boots splashing in the cold, dirty puddles on the pavement, but you didn’t seem to notice.

Simon’s pulse quickened, his breath shallow and uneven as he moved closer, his steps soundless despite the wet pavement beneath him. He surveyed the area with practiced eyes. The street was empty, a desolate stretch of asphalt and crumbling brick, lined with decrepit buildings that looked like they hadn’t seen a lick of care in decades. There were no people nearby, no signs of life in the windows above.

Just him and you, alone in this forgotten corner of the city.

You were still oblivious to his presence, lost in whatever was on that bloody phone of yours. He watched you, hazel eyes narrowing as he considered his next move. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. Part of him just wanted to get closer, to see you more clearly. But there was another part of him, a darker part, that wanted more.

Simon moved closer, every step deliberate, controlled.

He felt like a predator stalking his prey, his military training coming back to him in full force. It was second nature to him now, the way his mind cataloged every detail, every possible threat or escape route. He had been trained to hunt, to go for the throat, to eliminate, and those instincts were hardwired into his core, impossible to shake even after all this time. The lines blurred in his mind, his thoughts tangling up in the memories of past missions, of dark nights spent creeping through hostile territory, of the adrenaline that surged through him when he was on the hunt.

For a brief second, Simon could almost hear his old captain’s gruff voice echo in the hollow of his mind—a special forces operator’s worth is tested in blood. The words twisted in his chest, cold as the barrel of his rifle, his breath catching in his throat. A phantom touch grazed his shoulder, and for a heartbeat, he could almost feel Gaz there—tapping lightly to signal the breach. His brother, always at his side. But no, not anymore. He must be a lieutenant now...

Simon blinked hard, forcing the ghosts back into the shadows.

He focused on you instead, the only anchor left in the storm.

Just as he was about to take another careful step, a sharp, sudden sound shattered the stillness of the night. Your phone rang, the shrill tone cutting through the silence like a knife. Simon froze, instinctively ducking behind the wreck of an old, rusted car parked at the edge of the street. Your lovely voice was tinged with frustration as you spoke. It was quiet, almost too quiet, yet it clung to the air with a strange sweetness that made his breath falter.

In that moment, something in him shifted—like a taut wire snapped loose, vibrating through his chest. It was an obsession born not of choice, but of instinct.

“Derek? Where are you?”

Derek.

Simon’s stomach twisted at the sound of the name. He could feel the anger bubbling up inside him, hot and vicious, as he imagined that bastard leaving you out here, alone in the dark, like you were nothing. You were too good for this shithole. And Derek, whoever the fuck he was, had left you, you out of all people, stranded.

Simon’s hands clenched into fists, the leather of his gloves creaking as he fought to keep his temper in check.

“No, I told you I didn’t know this area,” you said, pacing back and forth, the anxiety clear in your every movement. Your tone was sharp, but beneath it, however, Simon could hear the fear creeping in. “No, I’ve been wandering around for an hour! I’m lost, Derek, and this place is creeping me out. I don’t know where I am. Help me, please."

Simon felt a surge of protectiveness, mingled with fury.

Of course you were creeped out. You should be. This was no place for someone like you. You were lucky, though. So damn lucky that Simon had been the one to find you, that it wasn’t some thug or worse, some twisted bastard who’d see you as easy prey. Oh no, you were safe with him, even if you didn’t know it.

Safe from everything except him.

“I don’t care about the discount in the pub, come on,” you huffed, your voice trembling a bit, now tinged with a note of desperation that made Simon’s chest tighten painfully. “The guys will understand, I’m sure. Please, just come and help me.”

Simon could almost hear Derek’s response in his head—a lazy, careless dismissal, maybe a drunken laugh as he waved off your concerns. The thought made Simon’s blood boil.

Derek didn’t deserve you.

Didn’t deserve to be anywhere near you, didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you. You were precious, an angel in a city full of demons, and that bastard was too fucking stupid to appreciate you. If Simon ever got his hands on him, he’d make sure Derek knew exactly what kind of danger he’d put you in. He’d break every bone in his worthless body, make him pay for every second you’d been left out here to fend for yourself.

“I told you I couldn’t come tonight, but you insisted, so I did,” you continued, your voice growing more strained with every word. “I need your help. Please, come and pick me up. I’ve got work in the morning, I don’t feel really good and I really need to get home. What? Yeah, I’m a little bit tipsy, so what? I’m lost. Please.”

Simon’s jaw tightened as he listened to you, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. You were begging now, practically pleading and it made his skin crawl.

You shouldn’t have to beg. Not for something like this.

You deserved better, so much better. You deserve someone who would move heaven and earth to keep you safe, to make sure you were never in a situation like this in the first place. Simon wasn’t good for much anymore, but he knew how to protect. He knew how to take care of those he cared about—he’d spent his whole life doing it, even if it had all gone to shit in the end.

But Derek clearly wasn’t that man.

Simon could hear the frustration in your voice as you asked, “You called a taxi? Really? You couldn’t just come?”

There was a long pause, and he could feel his heart beating faster, his muscles tensing as he waited for your reaction.

When you finally spoke again, your voice was much softer, much resigned. “Okay. Fine. We’ll meet tomorrow, then.”

You ended the call with a deep sigh.

For a moment, you just stood there, staring at the ground, your shoulders slumped in defeat. Simon watched you from his hiding spot, his mind racing. The deadly fury he felt toward the pathetic excuse of a man you were speaking with was almost overwhelming, but underneath it, there was something else—something darker and more insidious. A need to be the one you turned to, the only one you could rely on. He wanted to be the one who took care of you, who made sure you never had to feel this way again.

But he couldn’t just walk up to you, not now. Not yet. You were too vulnerable, too raw, and he didn’t want to scare you off. He had to be careful and had to find the right way to approach you. You needed to see him as a protector, not as a threat. His mind was a mess of emotions, the anger, the need and the sick sense of possessiveness all tangled up together. He couldn’t let that control him. He had to be smart about this, had to play it right.

Simon took a deep breath, forcing himself to think clearly.

He had to be smart about this, had to think like the fucking special forces operator he once was.

The shadows of his old life clung to him, and in the quiet of his mind, he could almost hear Price’s voice barking orders—to scrape up every damn thing he could find. That was his mission now, wasn’t it? To know you. To learn your name, where you lived, where you worked, every inch of your life, mapped out like terrain before a strike. It was the instinct that kicked in, something so ingrained it almost felt like muscle memory.

Johnny would have definitely teased him for his honest mistake—“forgetting the basics, Lt.,”—his voice mocking, lighthearted, but Simon couldn’t let this slip through his fingers. He needed to know everything. You were his target, but not to eliminate.

His heart pounded in his chest as he watched you from his hiding spot. The rain continued to fall, pattering against the metal roofs, but Simon barely registered the cold droplets soaking through his clothes. All his focus was on you, every nerve in his body attuned to your slightest movement. You stood there, alone and vulnerable.

He inched closer, moving with the same precision and silence that had once made him a ghost on the battlefield.

Despite his size—broad shoulders, heavy muscles that made him look more like a walking tank than a man—he moved with an eerie grace, his footsteps soundless on the wet pavement. Decades of military training had taught him how to blend into the shadows, how to become part of the night, after all.

He was close now, too close to risk you noticing him, so he stayed low, hidden behind the wrecked row of cars. He couldn’t see you anymore and that frustrated him to no end. It was like torture, being this close and yet so far, but he knew he had to wait. Patience was something he’d learned the hard way, and now it was paying off.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a taxi pulled up to the curb. Simon’s heart skipped a beat, his pulse quickening as the car’s headlights cut through the darkness. He heard the window of the vehicle roll down, the driver’s voice breaking the tension in the air.

The driver called out, his voice hoarse but polite.

And he said your name.

It hit Simon like a sledgehammer, echoing in his broken mind, searing itself into his memory. He repeated it to himself, over and over, like a mantra. He would never forget it for the rest of his miserable life. He would burn down entire cities to remember it. 

“Yes, that’s me,” you replied, her voice softer now, but Simon caught every word, hanging on to them like they were the most important thing he’d ever heard.

He strained to catch the rest of the conversation, hoping for more clues, more intel. You murmured something about the old market in downtown London to the taxi driver, and Simon’s mind raced, trying to piece together what little he knew. The old market—that could be a clue, a starting point. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

And right now, that something was all he needed.

The door of the taxi shut with a soft thud, and Simon was left alone in the dark, empty street, the rain falling steadily around him, soaking him to the bone. But he didn’t care. All he could think about was the name that now echoed in his mind, the name that had given him a purpose, a reason to keep going.

He had a name. He had a direction.

As the taxi drove away, its taillights disappearing into the night, Simon finally let out the breath he’d been holding.

His muscles ached from the tension, but there was a strange sense of relief that washed over him, a feeling of liberation. He had something to hold on to now, something tangible. He knew your name. He knew your name, and that meant everything.

He stood there, letting the rain wash over him, his mind buzzing with possibilities. He could find you, he could get close to you. He wasn’t the man for you now, but he could become the man you needed. He could become your provider, your guardian, the savior you deserved. He could protect you, keep you safe, take care of you, and in return, you would give him the thing he craved the most.

A reason to live.

You didn’t know it yet, but you were about to become the most important person in Simon Riley’s life. And he wasn’t going to let anything or anyone stand in the way of that. The storm that had raged inside him for so long had quieted, leaving behind a cold and unyielding determination. He had a purpose now, a mission. One he had to see through alone. Price would have approved, Simon was sure of it—Gaz and Soap too. He could almost feel them at his back, their shadows guiding him forward.

This wasn’t for them, though. This was for him.

For the part of him still capable of feeling something other than anger. He would find you again, and when he did, you would never be alone, vulnerable, or scared again.

Because Simon Riley was a man who protected what was his.

And you were his.

➼ Masterlist

[torawro]

WHEN BLADES CLASH, SO DO HEARTS. ( r. z. )

roronoa zoro & bounty hunter!reader.

cw ━━ ! minors, ageless and blank blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is portrayed as a black woman who is on the thicker / curvier side but you do not have to imagine it that way ! you are free to imagine the reader how you wish. canon divergent au (lowkey implied post-timeskip -> zoro is still a bounty hunter and never became a pirate). bc it's canon divergent, zoro will have both eyes (i know, i know). mentions and descriptions of alcohol consumption. canon-typical violence (i.e., mentions of weapons). light(ish) descriptions of blood & injuries. so much [sexual] tension between reader and zoro that it's palpable. contains sexually explicit content including smut (descriptions of it from an omniscient pov). gets kinda poetic at the end but y’all already knew that was coming. somewhat proofread.

word count ━━ ! 4.8k

notes ━━ ! my first published one piece fic on my blog . . . you'd think the first one would be about law since my current theme revolves around him but alas, this swordsman was prominent in my mind…i did lose motivation at some point but i still pushed through. this fic was originally something i drafted up to serve as the prologue for a much longer fic i'm writing (no hints, sorry < 3). and i thought writing this purely for contextual purposes would help with that longer story, but in the process it just turned into something else all on its own skskkskks so this is a modified version of that blurb. obvs this is also my first time officially writing for zoro so i’m a little nervous and to be honest, i’m not sure if i even like how this turned out��..regardless, i hope i portrayed him well enough (pls be gentle with me) >< also wanna dedicate this fic to naj, a mutual of mine who became a friend, but unfortunately deactivated her blog some time ago. she's been helping me with this drabble and the longer story i plan to write and i really appreciate her. reblogs + commentary are GREATLY appreciated ♡!!!

SHAKING OFF THE GRAVELLY SAND that haphazardly clung to the fabric of your pants, with little effort and practiced precision, you swiftly returned a large metal rod back into a black carrying bag before swinging the straps over your right shoulder. Rolling your arms to relieve some of the tension that resided in them proved to be a little painful, leading you to conclude that you most likely pulled a muscle somewhere when fighting the unknown men who had just attacked you. 

Said men were now lying unconscious on the ground, hardly breathing and within an inch of their lives. 

You didn’t kill them ━no, of course not ━ that would be a fruitless endeavor. Besides, you were well aware that your energy would be well-spent elsewhere, like searching for the next poor soul that had a bounty looming over their head. You were like a hunting dog, the scent of your next target set in front of you by the wanted posters littered around in each city or island you traveled to. Much like how the grim reaper awaited in the shadow of someone who stood inches away from the gates of death, you too would bide your time until the right moment to strike.

You took pride in the fact that the glint of your weapon would be the last thing that reflected in the eyes of your target.

The end result of your fight, if you could even call it that, was as chilling as the evening breeze that was brought forth by the wading waves of the ocean. You have made your mark on the flesh of these men, reopening some old wounds and creating new ones that would certainly scar forever. On levels of the skin and of the spirit.

With a heavy sigh, you adjusted your bag again as you walked towards the cluster of little lights nestled beyond the trees, within them existed this main island’s largest town. Your facial muscles didn’t so much as twitch as the pointed heel of your boots dug into the skin of your unconscious assailants— thinking nothing of their drowsy, muffled grunts of pain or the stark contrast between stepping over doughy bodies versus stepping on the hard earth.

The waxing crescent moon only slightly illuminated the dirt road as you made your way to the populated village, occasionally swatting away a fly or two. Soon enough, the mouth of the semi-dense woods opened up to reveal a wide gravel road. Across the opening was a bridge that stood over a flowing stream, and beyond that was the town. It was a cluster of buildings of varying heights lined up neatly street by street.

Lamps hung on every corner, street pole and ledge that would allow it, bathing all that rested under them in a pale yellow glow. It was quite pretty at night if you were being honest; and judging by its looks and atmosphere, you were sure that they’d have a nice inn around somewhere.

But first, a drink. And some food, you added as an afterthought, but mostly a drink. Your body could use a bit of external help to unwind after spending the last few days at sea.

It didn’t take you all that long to find out where the town’s bar was located, and you wasted no time ascending the steps that led to the double swinging doors. The clacking of your boots against the wooden floors upon entering the establishment were more or less drowned out by the chatter of the rugged-looking individuals who more or less made themselves at home.

And yet, despite the dozens of conversations that bounced off the walls of the tavern, the stares of everyone whose line of vision you crossed seemed to be louder. Much louder than any fit of raucous laughter or profane shout that surrounded you.

Your ears were even able to pluck out a few conversations. Hushed inquiries of familiarity, musings of what could possibly be in that bag dangling on your back, how the pants you wore emphasized the fat of your ass just right━ all things you let roll off your back and pretended not to hear. 

If it weren’t for your more reserved nature, you would have slashed that the throat of the man who made that salacious comment the moment it left his dried lips.

You took a random seat at the bar, not really paying attention to who sat on either side of you. Placing the cowboy-style hat you wore next to you and your belongings at your feet, you patiently awaited for the bartender to make her way down to where you sat. 

As you waited, you crossed your legs, one fleshy thigh over the other, absentmindedly twirling one of the bulky silver rings that encased your middle finger as you wondered what drink you were in the mood for today.

It wasn’t until several moments later, when your body and mind stilled enough, that you’d take notice.

Something felt . . . weird. ‘Off’ was probably a better word for the strange weight that suspended itself over your muscles. Whatever it was, whatever feeling or presence you sensed, it had your fingers twitching towards your bag laying idly against the table. And it only continued to linger in the air as the minutes dragged by.

The sound of the barkeep’s voice pulled you back into the plane of reality and away from the realm of your overactive mind. “What’ll ya be having tonight, honey?” She was an older woman, probably around the age of fifty but looked much younger, had deeply tanned skin, and peppered black and white hair that was pulled into a bun and rested at the base of her neck. 

“Hmmm . . . whatever your best cocktail is, I’ll just have that.” 

With a nod and an amused smile at you allowing her to have free reign, the barkeep turned around, set a shaker aside, and got to work preparing a drink of her choice to serve to you.

Then, something flashed in your peripheral vision.

It was so fleeting that you could have easily dismissed it as nothing had you not been on somewhat high alert already. It flickered in the reflection of the metal canisters that sat along the back wall of the bar. And whatever it was managed to startle you enough to jump start the pulse in your chest into a panicked overdrive so fierce that you heard it in your ears.

The frantic beating of your heart  never showed on your face, however━ your expression remained neutral. It needed to be for a woman in your line of work. Perhaps especially because you were a woman in your line of work.

Without any warning or indication, the cold sensation of polished steel licked and nipped at the warmth residing in your neck. The sharpened end of a blade rested on the jugular of your throat, pressed firmly enough that if you moved forward even a little bit, a stain from your blood would surely blossom on the katana.

“You…” a deep male voice spoke, sounding rough and rugged all around its edges. The rest of the pub seemed to fall silent at the man’s utterance of that one word, rather than his blatant display of threatening you with a sword. “Why are you here?”

Your eyes were the only thing that moved. Slowly, with a frosty gleam underlining your gaze, your eyes landed on the sword’s master, his name immediately flashing in your mind. His reputation as a bounty hunter sent a chill down the spines of both marines and pirates alike. Residents all over the four seas feared his name, and his name alone could cause people to question if the threads of their lives would be severed by the piercing edge of his sword.

“Roronoa Zoro….” Your tone was leveled and held an air of disinterest as you talked. You spoke as if you were tasting the very syllables of his name, taking the time to roll each combination of letters against your tongue. They tumbled from your lips with a smoothness you weren’t entirely opposed to━ it was almost pleasant, if you were being honest with yourself.

A practice you didn't normally engage in.

Upon identifying the swordsman aloud, a short wave of hushed gasps from the customers surrounding you filled the air. With speeds that almost seemed abnormal, the long metal pole resting in your black bag suddenly ended up in your grasp, one end of it hovering several inches away from Roronoa's neck; such speeds even caught the mint-haired swordsman off guard. “Getting a drink, of course. Isn’t it obvious?”

Before he could even part his lips to reply, the piercing shing! of steely iron being brandished cut through the thick tension that settled in between you. A long and heavily curved blade abruptly emerged from the blackened rod in your right hand, and oh so conveniently arced around Roronoa's neck, momentarily silencing him. 

The weapon you carried was a scythe, one with a retractable blade meant to disarm your opponent’s perception and therefore hinder their judgment. A scythe that was reminiscent of the tool Death used to carry out his grisly duties of executing souls and dragging them to hell.

In this position with the scythe’s blade practically wrapped around his throat, if need be you could swiftly behead him, or at least mutilate him; judging by how quickly he unsheathed his katana, his reflexes were pretty sharp. Still, the potential ease of killing Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro— in addition to the mild bewilderment reflecting in his eyes and the patrons’ silent gasps once they pieced together who you were— caused your lips to tick upwards, but your countenance remained otherwise stoic.

“And I’m assuming you’re here for the same reason. That, or you just couldn’t get enough of me during our last battle, and you tracked me down for more.”

Your previously dry tone had somehow morphed into one with an airy lilt, followed by a quiet chuckle that bubbled in your chest when you saw Roronoa's brows twitch and deepen with ire at your subtly teasing words.

You were referring to the last time you saw the swordsman on some obscure island that took root in the Grand Line; an island whose name currently escaped your memory. With you being a bounty hunter as well, your job was the only reason why your paths have crossed so often, and why you have come to know Roronoa on a more personal level such as this. Each time your gazes clashed, it would always result in an inevitable battle, which indirectly fanned the flames of an unspoken competition between the two of you.

If his current expression was anything to go by, this bar may very well be your next battlefield. “You lost that fight, remember?” He emphasized his point by digging the sharp edge of his blade a little further into your neck, the increased pressure causing your eyebrow to all but twitch, “Or did I hit you too hard last time we fought, and now you’re suffering from long-term memory loss?”

The edges of an insufferable smirk curled at Roronoa's lips— one that conveyed his confidence in his abilities and matched the glint in his eyes that began to grow hungry for a brawl. And now, the corners of your own lips broke into a small, amused smile— or perhaps it would be more accurately referred to as a sneer— and you responded by mirroring his earlier movements.

Pressing the sharp end of your scythe into the back of his neck, the blade was met with the resistance of the corded muscle residing there, and your gaze eagerly drank in the brief glimmer of pain that was but a ripple across his arrogant expression.

“I didn’t lose that fight. It was a draw, at best. Seems like you must not remember the excessive blood loss on your end. But anyhow, tell me something pirate hunter…” You uncrossed your legs to stand up and took one step closer towards Roronoa, careful not to let his sword further nick your skin even though it was already dangerously close to you, “How many bounties have you collected since we last saw each other? Three? Two? One?”

Your voice descended further into a teasing whisper, and Roronoa's indignation only grew with each number you hurled at him.

The samurai didn’t take your tone lightly, and perceived your step forward as something of a  challenge, one that his nerves and heart and bones pleasantly vibrated to the sound of. So he too took a step forward, away from the piercing curve of your scythe that hung behind him like a shadow.

Roronoa was a little taller than you were, so meeting his gaze meant angling your neck upwards whilst he simultaneously moved his face an inch closer to yours.  “You think you’re hot shit, huh? Try five, sweetheart.”

Your nostrils flared involuntarily at his bold claim, and something . . . something warm prickled underneath your skin at his referral to you as sweetheart. For some reason, that word━ especially coming from his lips━ was a bit harder to ignore compared to other comments about you from this bar's patrons. And what they said was far more conflicting than a simple term of endearment; even if the 'endearment' in question was so obviously meant to be condescending.

“Is that right? You think you're such a badass, don't you?"

"That's 'cause I am."

Roronoa's mocking sneer was punctuated with a step forward into your space this time; any closer and the front of your clothes might graze each other. The swordsman pushed the boundaries once more by adding a little more force onto the grip of his katana, enough to finally break the bonds of your umber tinted skin.

A barely decipherable noise of amusement and veneration rumbled in his chest when your blood dripped on the length of his sword, but your reaction was nothing more than an involuntary clench in your facial muscles.

"Yeah?" You questioned him with a glare and a tilt of your head in the direction of his blade that uncomfortably sat at the opening of your skin. The tightness in your voice was meant to goad him, but it also contained the sparks of a challenge━ and of something else you didn't want to identify━ that ignited in the pit of your stomach with an increasing amount of fervor.

"Yeah." His voice descended a little lower into a place that killed the next sentence on the tip of your tongue.

Your eyes then narrowed as you held Roronoa's taupe gaze, his overconfident words floated in the silent air between you like a speck of smoldering ash, ready to burst into something more intense and fierce the moment it touched the ground.

Then you shifted your cold gaze elsewhere, opting to let it lazily roam around the room. Everyone was staring at the both of you with uneasy expressions and anxious stares. You could tell that even at the slightest movement from either you or the swordsman would cause the panic bubbling beneath their skin to flood forth in waves.

If there was one thing about you, you preferred to be to discreet. It made your job a whole lot easier, and more enjoyable in the long run.

A hummed vibrated behind your plump lips and your glare returned to his. "Let's take this outside, swordsman. I'd hate to ruin this nice lady's establishment with scuff marks and your blood."

Roronoa huffed a scoff, the amused smirk from before uncurled into something more animalistic. "That's funny. But sure, I'm down. When I defeat you and spill your blood on the ground, it'll make perfect fertilizer for those little plants I saw outside."

You huffed at his cocky attitude and accompanied it with a roll of your eyes. Your stare pierced him for a moment longer before you rescinding it, along with your scythe that was still outstretched towards him. The mint haired swordsman followed suit after another beat or so.

"That's about as likely as a fish growing legs and walking on land." Your voice was thick with sarcasm as you fished out a cotton pouch from your bag; it was small in size, but heavy with Berry. As you slipped out a couple of bills to pay for the drink that sat idly forgotten at your seat, another hand forcefully placed several bills down on the counter.

That hand belonged to Roronoa. You had to force yourself from letting your irises linger too long, or else you'd start thinking about how rugged, calloused, and veiny it looked.

With a newfound general annoyance at both him and yourself, you proceeded to present the bills to the bartender, who looked as if she was one muscle twitch away from ducking under the table behind the counter. You offered something similar to a sympathetic smile to assuage whatever she was feeling.

"Don't bother." Roronoa called out.

When you turned around to greet his voice, he was sheathing the sword that he previously drawn and made his way to the entrance of the pub.

"What are you talking about?" As you inquired, the swordsman still allowed his back to face you, hardly pausing to properly address you.

"I said, don't bother." he repeated in a stern tone, as if that was going to elucidate exactly what he meant, "Now come on. I'm itching to cut you down so I can go lay down."

And without adding anything further, Roronoa eventually exited the bar and disappeared behind the doors.

You were starting to lose count of how many times you narrowed your eyes at the green-haired man, but your stare━ both equal parts vexed and confused━ rested on the doors he had just walked through as if glaring at them long or hard enough would summon him again.

With a sigh, you turned back to the thin stack of Berry he left on the table, eyeing it suspiciously. You weren't sure what he ordered or how much of it, but it look like quite a bit of money he'd just randomly tossed next to you.

Was he insinuating . . . . that he paid for both of your drinks? Could this be what he meant when he told you not to bother, because he already covered it? Such a gratuitous act of kindness, something seemingly so simple caused that weird fluttering to bounce against the walls of your stomach again.

Picking up your bag, you continued to poke and dissect his actions in an attempt find meaning in them as you tipped the barkeep, once more ignoring the stares of nearly every person in that building as you left.

The moment your heeled boots dug themselves into the ground, your peripheral vision was bombarded with something being swung in your direction at high speeds. Before you could even process what it was, you instinctively leapt out of the way, your neck jerking backwards to further avoid the object.

A grunt filled your ears, already knowing the origin of the sound. "Nice reflexes."

You exhaled an exasperated breath of air, turning your gaze to meet that of the mint-haired swordsman who had begun to unsheathe a second sword out of the three scabbards hanging from his hip.

"Can I at least breathe first? Set my stuff down perhaps?" You asked wryly, almost unimpressed, but you didn't waste any time removing the straps of your bag to set it down on a nearby barrel, still cursing the pirate hunter under your breath all the same.

"Didn't know you were that eager to eat dirt." The familiar hiss of your scythe's blade erecting from the rod sent a pleasurable chill up your arms. You held your weapon tightly at your side, your grasp around its length tightening ever still when Roronoa began to square his stance. Even when you were several feet away from him, you could still clearly see the crease in his brows becoming more prominent; he began to resemble some kind of beast.

But that glimmer in his eyes held no real fire in them━ at least not the one that would lead to anger; one could even say it was one of wild excitement. The swordsman already knew his thirst for a worthwhile fight would be sufficiently quenched once more.

"Shut up." With a grunt, Roronoa pushed off the balls of his feet to launch himself into a powerful sprint towards you. It was clear he wanted to close as much distance between the two of you as quickly as possible. His movements were reminiscent of his brief display of swordplay earlier in the bar, where he was one swipe away from slitting your throat.

He was fast, but the gritty and often dangerous nature of your job honed your reflexes to be faster.

Your spine bended as you briskly leaned backwards to dodge the double swipe of Roronoa's katanas. The sound of the sharp blades cutting through the very air around you. With it only inches away from your nose, it was enough to replace the blood pumping through your veins with pure adrenaline.

Using the momentum from your quick dodge, you allowed your back to curve into a bridge and kicked upwards into a backflip to move out of the way━ the corners of your lips twitched into a satisfied grin when you felt your foot collide with his jaw and chin.

Once you were upright again, you wasted no time lunging forward in a sprint, you body much lower to the ground than Roronoa's was. Your plan was to slash his legs to throw him off balance, but that plan quickly evaporated like smoke due to his quick recovery and immediate realization of what you were doing.

"Tch." Your tongue clicked against the roof of your mouth in annoyance when the swordsman was able to leap in the air in time to avoid your attack. He was high enough that you had to crane your neck to see. With that much height, the next blow was sure to be one with quite a bit of force behind it.

"Two-Swords Style, Nigiri...." The swordsman's orotund voice descended far from where he was suspended in midair, and you braced yourself for his next attack, "....Tower Climb Return!"

The following clash of piercing steel against metallic iron was deafening, swallowing up any other noise that reverberated around you. The sheer impact of Roronoa's attack created a thin ring of dust that encircled both your figures and violently buzzed against the pole of your scythe.

You gritted your teeth to remain footed into the ground, but the force was too much, and that shit-eating grin nearly unfurling at his lips was too annoying. It shook the steadiness in your legs and caused you to tumble back by several yards. By steeling your thighs and calves you willed yourself not to fall, huffing with effort and frustration.

It hadn't even been that long since you've last fought Roronoa, could he really have made noticeable improvements in a short amount of time?

Regardless of the answer, you weren't about to allow him the chance to prove himself.

The both of you then darted at each other again, your motions a bit more cutthroat this time, and a newborn determination to strike down the pirate hunter further fed the burning adrenaline that coursed through your body.

Reaching your arm backwards, you performed a horizontal slash that Roronoa parried almost instantly. With effortless control and graceful dexterity, you reached both arms behind your back and twirled your scythe between your fingers, shifting the weapon from one hand to the other, and attempted to cut him again.

He blocked that attack as well, the tip of the blade just inches away from his left eye. You saw something moving fast in your peripheral vision, and immediately jumped backwards to avoid the katana that was about to release your intestines from the confines of your stomach.

It was always a pain fighting Roronoa because he wielded multiple swords at once, which means battles with him were more drawn out than they needed to be.

You lunged at him once more, and began to administer a barrage of horizontal, vertical and diagonal slashes in rapid succession. Your constant switching from one hand to the other, in addition to its length and the impressive control you exerted over your limbs, you were able to create a variety of fluid, long and short-range attack patterns, barely allowing Roronoa enough time to parry.

The moss-haired swordsman was keeping up with the relentless flurry of your attacks quite well━ for a short while at least. Roronoa lost himself in his own inner monologue of searching for an opening wide enough to immobilize you, and before long, a red cut blossomed on his semi-exposed chest, the injury lazily drooling blood.

The amount of cuts both deep and shallow began to increase, tearing his skin asunder under the weight of your blows. Your scythe repeatedly made contact with the elongated ha of his katana as well as his tanned flesh, but it wasn't enough to deter him completely.

It should have been though, but the many encounters you've had with Roronoa reminded you that he was no ordinary man.

Within that bombardment of the numerous slices and projectile slashes of your scythe Roronoa had found a millisecond of respite, and used that brief pause to leap backwards and put some distance in between you two.

You weren't able to hear the aching cry from the muscles in your arms until after you halted your attack, but the adrenaline flickering in your gaze still raced around your irises unceasingly. Roronoa's own gaze was hard and unyielding, glistening with something you couldn't discern from where you stood. But even so, your body somehow knew to feel like malleable putty under his stare; it's as if it was instinctual.

And again your blades clashed against one another, a steady rhythm rose from the cacophony of noises that were generated from your battle with the swordsman. Your laborious breaths became synchronized with each other, heavy and full of effort. The thin splatters of blood became homogeneous with each other as the both of you took turns cracking each other's skin open. Your limbs moved about and against his in a deft fashion and every nerve in your body reacted to his.

So much so, you didn't even realize when it happened.

Your duel with Roronoa had been in the forefront of your mind entirely that you hadn't actively processed the moment when your ragged breaths turned to breathy pants. Nor did you realize the moment it was no longer a scythe and katanas clashing, but wet lips and warm extremities instead. That same glint that shimmered in your eyes all evening never faded even then; it still twinkled through the murky mist of lust that clouded yours and Roronoa's vision.

Whenever your eyes collided with that of Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro, an inescapable battle would always ensue━ it was tried and true, and it felt more like a promise. It was also true, although not externally expressed, that your fight with the mint-haired man was one that neither of you even wanted to evade.

With each brawl you learned something new about Roronoa, and you were repeatedly met with the reality and veracity of his skills, his reputation full-force. And when your brawl eventually led to the languid but hungry removal of each other's clothes, you learned more about Zoro, and the emotions hiding underneath his taut and rugged body. This learning curve was both all-consuming and tenderhearted, and you couldn't help but shiver at the fact you were the only one who could witness it.

And what good is a fight if he didn't learn from and about his opponent as well? Each new thing he unearthed about you was an incentive to further indulge your soft and fleshy curves, and observe how they seamlessly molded with firm, corded muscle. Completely unexpected, Zoro had become utterly fascinated with the warmth that resided under your icy, expressionless glare.

And when Zoro peeled back a new layer, when his lips hovered over an uncharted area of your skin━ hot, breathy, filled with groans of expletives intertwined with your name━ when the grip of his calloused fingers and his heavy cock simultaneously dug deeper into you, one leg dangling haphazardly off his shoulder, when your bodies meshed just like that, you moaned━ you knew you didn't want to stop fighting with him.

Again and again and again with each thrust, each roll of his hips, each sightless grope of your body, you knew you would gladly continue participating in this unspoken competition. You'd proudly don cuts and bruises if it meant you and you alone could have Roronoa Zoro like this. You'd keep at it with enthusiasm if it meant that your hearts would always collide so wholly with each other, not being able to tell where his ended and yours began.

( # ) @icy-spicy @godjo @tetzoro @triangularz @pookiesatoru

[sister-lucifer]

One Must Stake His Claim: Chapter One 

Or: The Game Begins 

[Prologue] [Masterlist]

Nightbringer Diavolo + Lucifer x Male Reader 

Genre: Fluff, I suppose. Not overly sweet, though. 

Summary: After a fair bit of tension, Lucifer finally decides to make his move. 

Content/Warnings: He/him Reader, Jealous Luci, competition, not exactly a love triangle since Reader is completely unaware of the bullshit they’re in the middle of, praise, Luci is bad at flirting, suggestive but not NSFW, inappropriate and unprofessional touching, a few instances of profanity 

NOT FULLY PROOFREAD! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU SEE ANY ERRORS!

If tension was a tangible thing, one could cut through the current fog of competition with a knife. 

All day Lucifer and Diavolo have practically been circling each other, staring each other down like territorial animals, both of them more than prepared to fight but neither wanting to make the first move. 

After all, war is not a subject to be taken lightly. One must keep his deniability in tact should the worst come. 

You, on the other hand, have been carrying on quite as usual. Regardless of how the game escalates, neither Diavolo nor Lucifer are particularly fond of the idea of bringing your attention to the situation. Perhaps it’s simply easier that way, or perhaps on some level they can’t bear to even imagine the look on your face when the realization of their childish squabbles comes to light. To some extent they’re both aware of the ridiculous brawl that will inevitably become of this—not that it’s completely reasonable to begin with—but they both fall to the whims of their pride. 

That is to say, they would both sooner eat glass before they concede to the other. 

They’ve both been keeping a watchful eye on you as you flitter about the House of Lamentation. Every now and then you’ll look up at just the right time and catch one of them staring you down with more intensity than he means, but you’ve yet to raise any sort of question about it. It’s not all that odd, really; they all did that when you first showed up. If you looked just a bit closer you might be able to see that swimming fury in the back of their eyes, but staring in through the window’s of a demon’s soul for too long will send shivers down your spine. 

Over the past hour or so Lucifer has been slowly working up the courage to approach you. He’s been wary about striking first, but he just can’t wait any longer; he needs to out-play Diavolo, and in order to get one up on as skilled a strategist as the demon prince he has to have quite the reserve of courage. It’ll be unexpected, too, especially with Barbatos currently occupying Diavolo with some royal responsibility he can’t sneak away from. 

The pieces of quite the sly plan have been slowly coming together in his mind. He’s got to have the perfect mix of wit, gall and charisma to pull this off, to pull you in without overwhelming you or putting you off. He has to carry himself with confidence but not arrogance when he approaches you, and he has to choose every word carefully. On top of that, he has to make his move at exactly the right time, as even a second of miscalculation could completely ruin everything that he’s— 

“Oh, Lucifer! I finished that paperwork you asked me to!”

He nearly jumps out of his skin, suddenly ripped from his thoughts by the sound of your voice. 

It looks like you’ve made the decision for him. 

The thick stack of papers falls into his desk with a hard thud a moment later. He looks up to meet your eyes, and the proud smile on your face makes his heart skip a beat. 

“I did it,” you say, “I’ve gotten everything from the contractors in order, and I’ve gotten all the budget reports back. Now we can officially move on to the next stage of building R.A.D.!”

Lucifer’s lips part just slightly, but no words come out. He hates being at a loss for words, but he you have an odd way of doing that to him with the most minuscule gestures. It’s not even a gesture, really, he asked you to go this, but…

He manages to snap out of it quickly, clearing his throat. 

“Ah, I see. This…will surely take quite a bit off of my work load.” 

The words sound much more forced than they should be. Lucifer inwardly cringes when you raise a brow curiously. 

“Are you, um, alright, Lucifer?” 

He quickly nods, waving his hand dismissively. 

“Of course, of course. Just a bit, you know, worn out. This sort of thing is quite demanding.” 

“Definitely,” you agree with a nod, “let me know if you need anything else. I could always grab you a coffee, or maybe some tea if—“

“That won’t be necessary.” 

The rejection is far more firm than he means it to be, and for a split second he braces for the worst, only to breathe an internal sigh of relief when you shrug and turn to walk away. 

…Hold on, walk away? 

Wait, no! 

This is his chance, and he was completely caught off guard! He can’t let you leave now, not when this is the perfect opportunity to show Diavolo what he’s capable of! 

And yet, he’s not moving. 

He’s just watching this moment slip through his fingers in slow motion, like a miserable fool. His hands twitch uselessly against his desk without pushing him to stand. 

Dammit, dammit, dammit! 

It shouldn’t be this hard. 

It really shouldn’t be this hard, but something about you makes his mouth go dry and wrings every last drop of intelligence out of his brain. Goodness, he didn’t even thank you! He had meant to, surely, but he choked. 

No! 

No more waiting. No more letting Diavolo have the power. This is more than just a stupid competition for your attention, this is Lucifer’s chance to prove that he won’t roll over and be an obedient lapdog for the Devildom crown. 

With a sudden burst of energy he pushes himself up from his desk, making quick strides towards you. The aggressive clicking of his dress shoes on the tile startles you enough to make you turn around. 

“Lucifer—?” you start, but you don’t get to finish. 

Two strong, gloved hands come down on your shoulders. When you look up and see the deathly serious look on Lucifer’s face, you gulp. Shit, are you in trouble?

“Human,” he says, his deep voice booming in your ears despite his composure. 

You struggle to look him in the eyes, mentally bracing for the verbal misery that is surely about to be inflicted on you as punishment for whatever sin you’ve committed against law and order in the House of Lamentation. 

“…Thank you.”

Wh…huh?!

Despite your best efforts to stay neutral, you can’t fight the look of skepticism that twists your features. 

“Thank you,” Lucifer repeats upon seeing your expression, though it doesn’t make the words coming out of his mouth any less surreal for either of you, “you’ve done me a great favor. You always work diligently when given a task, and I…” 

There’s a pause.  

The silence is deafening. 

He can’t believe he’s going to say this. 

“…I couldn’t do it without you.” 

No. Fucking. Way. 

Fireworks go off in your head, exploding in vibrant blooms of every color you’ve ever seen and some you’ve never even imagined. For a brief moment a wave of pastel paint strokes sweeps through your world like the still life of a Rococo painting, all synapses firing with bursts of star-bright mirth. 

Such high praise from Lucifer! Great heavens, someone wake the King! 

The wide grin that spreads across your face threatens to split your visage in two, and Lucifer nearly forgets himself at the sight. 

Yes, he thinks, he said the right words! He’s done it! 

You can barely stop yourself from jumping for joy. You manage to thank Lucifer in return through your utter elation, and he even lets you see him smile. It’s nothing big, just the smallest quirk of his lips, but it’s priceless to you. It’s as if in this moment you and Lucifer are the only ones who exist, and really, all he can see now is you. 

He wasn’t expecting the mere sight of your genuine smile to affect him so deeply, but it does.  It sparks a gentle fire deep in the core of his being that warms him like nothing has since his wings were white. 

Damn, that feels good. 

He gives your shoulders a pat before releasing you. 

“Go on, then,” he says, not taking his eyes off of yours, “I’m sure you’ve got other tasks to attend you. I shall call if I need you.” 

You nod, giving a quick goodbye before you turn on your heel to take your leave… 

…only to instead run right into Diavolo’s chest. 

Suddenly all of that joy is draining from Lucifer at an alarming rate, like water through his fingers. He can feel Diavolo’s booming laughter burrowing into the recesses of his brain and promising to induce a horrid migraine. He doesn’t know why Diavolo is here, but from what Lucifer has observed of the prince he can tell he has something of a sixth sense for when someone is trying to usurp any sort of power from him. It’s an important talent for any royalty to have. 

You have to crane your neck to look up at the demon prince towering over you.  Your lips part to speak an apology, but you choke on your words when he reaches out to cup your chin with a gentleness unbecoming of Devildom royalty. 

In a moment your face has become unbearably hot. 

“I must agree with you, dear Lucifer,” Diavolo says, not looking up at the other demon, “our little human here has been quite the asset to our cause. I simply can’t imagine where we would be without his efforts.” 

His voice carries a sickly-sweet sense of self satisfaction that only registers to Lucifer‘s ears. He could kill him right here and end the royal bloodline for good, he thinks. A horrible choice that would be, but the last thread of his composure is quite strained and threatening to snap right in two, with the break being helpfully hastened by that awfully smug look on Diavolo’s face. 

You stammer, unsure what to say. You’re completely flustered. 

It would be cute if Lucifer weren’t so angry at the cause of your foolish stuttering. 

For a brief moment Diavolo looks up, and he makes eye contact with Lucifer. In his eyes Lucifer sees none of that gracious persona he’s putting on, all he sees is ‘I’m better than you.’ 

This cannot be allowed to stand. 

Lucifer steps closer, his front nearly against your back. You squeak in surprise and slight confusion. 

“L-Lucifer, what—?” 

“I must say, Diavolo,” he interrupts, forcing a polite smile of his own, “it’s even beyond that. I dare say we’re all better in character because of this human. Wouldn’t you say?” 

His hand finds its way onto your back, sliding a bit lower than you were ready for before settling into a stop. He can feel you shiver at the touch. My stars, you’re small, he thinks. He hadn’t realized the true size disparity until now. 

You’re frozen, sandwiched between the strong bodies of two demons who practically dwarf you. Alas, the perils of being a human in this world; you may not ever fully realize how different you are from them. 

Diavolo’s hands move to your arms, giving you a little squeeze and making you jump. You’re nearly engulfed by them as they lean over you to speak to each other. 

“You’re certainly right, Lucifer,” Diavolo replies, “I hesitate to compare a human to an angel, but I must say I’m at a loss for any other equivalent.” 

His grip on you gets just a fair bit tighter. 

You can’t take much more of this. You may just melt into a whimpering little puddle. 

“I’d say it’s a far enough comparison,” Lucifer says with a nod and just a hint of a growl in his voice. 

“I do hope so; I hate to brag, but I do think the demon prince himself should know best,” Diavolo  states with an air of certainty beyond what his words would imply. 

“Now, now, let’s not get cocky,” Lucifer bites back. 

“I’m only suggesting the truth,” Diavolo replies firmly. 

“And for what reason do you think this to be the truth, hm?” 

“Well, I’ve yet to seen this disproven, especially by you.” 

“Perhaps you’re merely not looking hard enough. Must be awfully hard to see over that silver spoon in your mouth.” 

“Do you truly think—“ 

“Wait. Diavolo—“ 

“No, no, Lucifer, let me finish—“ 

“Diavolo.  The human has left.” 

“The hu— what?” 

There’s a pause as they both look down at the empty space you were occupying moments ago, then to the doorway just in time to see the last sliver of you before you’re gone. 

Diavolo blinks. 

“Where do you think we lost him?”

Lucifer sighs. 

“Around your stupid angel comment, I’d say.”

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out. 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 14

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 14 🔞

Word Count: 4413

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU; Mention of ex mentally abusive relationship;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: There's a bit of NSFW at the end of the chapter (what can I say, Law can't keep his hands to himself!) Seems like Doffy and Ichiji are intent on messing with Law and reader's mind... what do you think?

|Masterlist| | |Chapter 13🔞| | |Chapter 15|

“You may now kiss the bride.” Loud cheers follow the officiant’s words as Sai dips his head to kiss Baby 5. It's strange how you've only just met Baby 5, and now you're tearing up at seeing how happy she looks. 

Dabbing a bit of moisture from the corner of your eye with your knuckle, you turn towards the chairs and lock eyes with Law again. He seems pretty bored with the service, but when he senses your gaze land on him, his eyes soften, filling with warmth. 

Trafalgar Law is incapable of smiling at the end of his cousin's wedding, but one look from you makes the ice melt? What did you do to deserve him?

As the bride and groom walk away from the altar, guests start to rise, ready to meet the couple and congratulate them. Law approaches you with a smile, reaching for your hand. “I missed you.” His voice rings low and inviting, and you immediately blush when his hand slides up your arm and cups your cheek. 

“I was right here, in front of you.”

“But I wasn't touching you.” You giggle and lean into his touch, resting your hands against his chest and letting out a prolonged sigh. “Let me guess, Vinsmoke was an inappropriate bastard?” Law's tone turns from warm to icy in the blink of an eye. 

“Just his usual manipulative crap. But I handled him.” You smirk, tilting your head innocently. “I told him that if he touched me, I’d stab him with the cake knife. It was rather effective.”

Law laughs, a hint of pride in his eyes, then kisses your lips softly. “That’s my girl.” You nearly melt in his embrace before sharing another kiss and finally exit the tent to celebrate the newlyweds. 

You and Law stand a bit apart from the rest of the guests, secluded in your own bubble as he wraps his arms around you from behind. “You know,” he begins, “I can’t wait to take you home.”

“What do you mean? Like, to the room?” You snicker and turn your head to gaze at him. “Because I’m not against sneaking out for a little bit.” You say sultrily, leaning in to give him a small peck.

“Not what I meant, sweetheart, but an interesting proposition.” You chuckle as he bites your lip playfully. “I mean, really get home. Start our ‘something real’ in the real world. Away from… all this.”

You nod at his words, your heart warming a little more in your chest now that he’s actually said you’ll have something serious.

“But it’s not so bad here, is it? I mean, besides your uncle, we’re together in a very romantic setting, if I might add.”

He’s about to answer, a slight furrow of his brow indicating he’s going to share something that’s bothering him, when Baby 5 interrupts you both, calling your name. “I’ve been calling you for photos for a while! All the bridal party is gathering, and you’re the only one missing.” The bride grabs your hand, pulling you along while you hesitate.

“Oh, I don’t think it feels right, Baby 5. I mean, I’m just a fill-in, I don’t want your wedding photos to be ruined.” You try, a dry smile playing on your lips. 

“Nonsense! You're already part of my day, come on, now!” Law releases you from his embrace with a reassuring smile. 

“I'll be here if you need me.” He adds. 

“Law, come on, she's just taking pictures. What will she need you for? In case the boogeyman shows up?” Baby 5 snorts, but Law grunts. 

“He's already here…” He mumbles, but the bride is already halfway to the fountain where the pictures are being taken. 

With a look back at Law and a longing sigh, you fall into place near the other bridesmaids as the photographer starts choreographing the wedding party for some candid shots. Everything is working out well until Ichiji takes advantage of the opportunity created by the photographer’s mixing up the party, and stands by your side. 

“Here we are again, Doll. Are you still mad at me?” He's using that honeyed tone he used when he missed an important anniversary, had to reschedule a date, or, really, whenever he disappointed you. Your heart starts hammering against your chest in that familiar dance as anxiety takes over your senses.

“I never stopped. Now leave me alone.” You can’t help the shakiness in your voice, but you still deliver the words. You try to move away, but the photographer yells, ‘Perfect, now smile!’ So you stay still for the shot, feeling Ichiji's fingers creep around your waist. “Don't touch me!” You mutter, fists trembling as you try to maintain a happy smile. 

Click. ‘Another pose, everyone!’

You move to the other side, but peace doesn't last as Ichiji ends up next to you again. “Can't bygones be bygones? I already said I was sorry for cheating. It's just… nobody compares to you, Doll.” ‘Smiles! Big smiles!’ He leans close to your ear, his hot breath making you shiver in discomfort as you bite the inside of your cheek for grounding. “No one gives me as much joy to break as you.”

Click.

You turn, facing him with fire in your eyes, ignoring the way your heart tries to leap out of your chest. “I'm not the same naive girl I was, Ichiji. I refuse to fall for your manipulations. You are nothing to me now.”

‘Oh, someone's not smiling. Let's give it another shot!’

You seethe, gritting your teeth and forcing a smile, trying to ignore Ichiji's hand searching for yours, sweat dampening your forehead.

“I'm nothing to you now? But I used to be your everything. You can't let go of that so easily.”

‘Much better! Come on, now, mix it up again, goofy poses and we'll be done.’

“You seem like the one who can't let go, Ichiji. You were a mistake, and I've learned my lesson. Leave. Me. Alone.” This time, you stand well away from him. Sugar, already a bit tipsy, swings her arms around you for support, and you lean on her for a fun candid shot. Ichiji stays away. 

Thankfully. 

-*-

“Here, Nephew, I thought you might need a mimosa to help you through this.” Law sighs, his eyes never leaving you as you stand in perfect alignment with the other bridesmaids, a beautiful smile on your face. 

Accepting the drink from Doffy, he takes a sip and grimaces. “There's no orange juice in this mimosa, Uncle.”

Doflamingo chuckles and shrugs innocently. “Oops.” Law doesn't feel like engaging with him anymore, but he can't leave this spot. Vinsmoke seems to be following you around the set, and he's about one more smirk from the redhead away from marching down there. 

“Curious, isn't it, Nephew?” Law doesn't fall for the trap, though he knows very well that not asking won't stop his uncle from talking. “The way she keeps getting angry at him… look at all that… fire.”

Law takes another sip of his orange-free mimosa - champagne - a big one this time, clenching his fist against his leg and trying his hardest to ignore his uncle. 

“I'm happy you trust her, but I don't. I know her kind. She was with Vinsmoke before, and we all know how… likeable he is. So it can't have been for his personality, come on.” Doffy's chuckle turns dark and ominous. 

“Thank you for worrying, but we're fine.” Law's teeth clack together as he sets his jaw, trying to keep himself from grunting. He can feel you're distressed, but you can hold your own. You wouldn't want him to disrupt the wedding. 

“Yes, fine… for now. But look at them, Law, really look at them.” Vinsmoke’s hand is on your waist, and you didn't swat him away, he's leaning toward your ear, whispering something, and the fire in your eyes burns with such intensity he can almost feel the heat from this distance. You don't want him near you, though you’re trying your hardest not to disrupt the photoshoot. 

“Sure, Uncle. All I see is hatred.”

Doflamingo moves to stand directly in Law’s line of sight, making sure Law listens to what he has to say. “Exactly. When you stop caring, you become indifferent, cold, calloused. When you still care, it means you still feel. Hatred is just one small step away from passion.” Doffy takes a long gulp of his ‘mimosa’ and laughs, his eyes glinting as Law finds it harder and harder to shield his own emotions. “And, you know, Law… they both burn with the same intensity.”

-*-

“Thank God, that's over.” You mutter as you approach Law with a smile. “Hey.” His smile seems a bit more strained, but he doesn't shy away from your hug. “Missed me?”

Law chuckles, but a harsh line still remains between his brows, and this time, there's nothing stopping you from smoothing it with your fingertips. 

“What's wrong?” Law's deep sigh is a bit disconcerting, like he's carrying a weight you're not privy to. “You can tell me everything, you know? This trust thing, it's a two-way street…” Your tone seems light, but the intensity in your gaze proves your sincerity. 

“Doffy's been messing with my mind.” A groan vibrates against your neck when he buries his head against it. “Sometimes it's just hard to believe how lucky I am.” He trails a few kisses up your neck, along your jawline and stops a breath away from your lips. “How lucky I was to meet you.”

Threading your fingers through his hair, you close the distance between your mouths. Law pulls you by the waist against him in a consuming kiss. It's passionate, it's intense, it's mind-blowing. Like everything else with Law. When you pull away, he still chases your lips to steal one more touch. 

“We're both lucky, then. Because I'm the happiest I've ever been.” Law's gaze finally softens, and that annoying dip of his forehead disappears. “Please don't let any of your uncle’s words get into your head.”

Law nods, parting the hug and pulling you by the hand towards where the other guests are. “I won't.”

“Promise?” You plant your feet, not budging when he pulls you, so he can look you in the eyes. “You know he has an agenda, Law. He brought my freaking ex into this. He'll try to break us apart, I can feel it.”

“Sweetheart, there's nothing in this world that can take you away from me, got it?” Law gives you a reassuring smile along with a caress on your cheek, but none of it eases the weight in your chest or the feeling of foreboding in his words. 

-*-

The reception is in full swing now. Speeches have been recited, along with plenty of toasts. Food - and drinks - are flowing freely and everyone seems a bit tipsy and cheerful. 

“Can I have a dance with the lady?” A hand hovers in front of your face, and you smile widely. 

“Careful,” Law speaks to you in a hushed tone, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Cora has two left feet.” You smile at the indignant look on Cora’s face as you take his hand in yours.

“I resent that, Law. When it comes to dancing, I’m very graceful. It’s with everything else that I’m a little bit clumsy.” The two men share a warm smile before Law’s uncle ushers you onto the dance floor, leaving him to stare at you both, which only lasts a couple of seconds as someone approaches him.

“Trafalgar, may I have a word with you?”

Law sighs and closes his eyes as if gathering patience. “Vinsmoke. What do you want?”

“To clear the air between us. It seems a bit… stifling.” Ichiji laughs, taking a sip of his champagne.

“Consider it cleared, then. Thank you for the chat.” Law turns to leave, but Ichiji ignores his attempt to exit and continues speaking. 

“I remember things about her that you most likely haven’t learned yet.” The smirk he shows Law is lecherous, but Law merely clenches his jaw in response. “How she likes to be touched, her scent… the exquisite way she tastes. Unforgettable.”

His words sting. Law doesn’t want to imagine you with anyone else, let alone this creep. But he knows you were intimate with him, obviously, and he also knows Ichiji will thrive if he gets a rise out of him. So Law takes a deep, steadying breath, sipping his drink and watching you glide gracefully in Cora’s arms, a deep smile upon your lips. 

“I had four years with her. I know every shiver, every tremble, every gasp and mewl by heart. It’s not something that can be easily unlearned.” He taunts, his smirk growing wider. 

Law’s throat constricts, and he swallows hard to force out his words. “Interestingly enough, she forgot you just fine.” Law is not going to stoop as low as Ichiji is stooping. But he could remind the jerk that you told him you’d never felt the same way you do for Law towards anyone else. And that includes this bastard. But he doesn’t need to share that knowledge, as long as Law knows it, he’s perfectly fine. “It’s actually impressive, Vinsmoke, that you spent four years with her and still managed to let her slip between your fingers.” Law shrugs nonchalantly. “I guess I should thank you, though. For being an asshole. That way, she saw right through you.”

Ichiji’s smirk falters as he takes a small step back. “Just face it, Trafalgar, you’ll never have what I had with her.”

Law smirks, letting out a cold, detached laugh. “Thank God for that. Why would I want a failed, toxic relationship when I have something so much better?”

That worked well enough to wipe the stupid smirk off his face. “This is not over yet.” Ichiji mumbles.

“Oh, but it is, Vismoke.” This time, it’s Law who leans closer to Ichiji, his taller frame casting an ominous shadow over the redhead. “I’ll say this once, leave her alone or you’ll find out just how protective I can be of what’s mine.” Law’s voice is cold and dangerous, and Ichiji clenches his jaw in response.

Realising he can’t rile Law up, he retreats, mumbling curses under his breath as Law finally relaxes his stiff posture and refocuses his gaze on you. Between Doffy’s manipulations and Ichiji’s devious words, Law begins to think they may have joined forces to disrupt his and your peace. 

-*-

“You really are a great dancer, Cora, you weren’t lying.” You tease the older man with a smile, and he laughs back at you.

“Thank you, thank you.” He sends you for a twirl to emphasise what a great dancer he is, pulling another heartfelt laugh from you. When you’re back in his arms, his smile is still in place. “Truly, thank you.” He nods towards where Law stands and sighs. “It’s been years since I’ve seen him this happy. I’ve seen him at his best and his worst… he’s been through a lot, but just seeing how at ease he is by your side…” Cora’s hand squeezes yours and he lets the rest of the sentence unsaid.

You see Ichiji next to Law, and your stomach churns. “It’s mutual, actually. I’ve been at my worst for a few years… and with Law…” Your smile lights up your whole face. “It’s all so simple with him, familiar even. Like we always knew each other and were just waiting to meet again.” 

Your deep, enamoured sigh makes Cora beam as well. “It’s a wonderful feeling, seeing him this unguarded. We went through some dark times when his parents and sister passed, it was tough on all of us. But as he grew up, he seemed to return to the ease he had as a child. And then…”

Cora inhales deeply, a flicker of pain crossing through his eyes, as if he’s not quite sure whether he should be the one to speak of Law’s heartaches.

“Monet?”

Cora’s nod is almost imperceptible. “It wasn’t just that she abandoned him, I think he would’ve gotten through that. It was the betrayal. She broke his trust. And back then, he placed his trust much more easily than he does now. Doffy thought he was teaching a tough-love lesson to Law, and he did. Except that lesson took its toll and Law stopped trusting people altogether. He built his walls so high it was impossible for anyone to scale them. Even me…”

Your hand grips Cora’s shoulder tighter. You can sense that he must have resented Doflamingo and what he did as well. 

“I honestly thought he would never let anyone get close to him again.” A sad smile plays on Cora’s lips as he looks at you. “Eventually, he let me in again, and some of his walls crumbled, but never long enough for another relationship to blossom. I’m so grateful to you, I truly am.”

For a second, your heart clenches. You and Law have both lied to this wonderful man. He doesn’t know that you started this with a fake relationship. But you’re not faking anything now, so you can’t feel guilty about that, right?

And there’s no way you’ll ever break the trust Law has placed in you. You did the same for him as well: you opened up, baring all your insecurities and shame, and he took you in with open arms and zero judgement. You’re both helping each other heal. 

“Law deserves to be happy. To feel like he can trust and be trusted again. I want to be that person for him.” You can’t help the way your eyes shine as you speak these words, they sound like a vow, a promise, and you know that’s what they truly are.

“I think you already are.” Cora laughs and spins you one last time before the song ends, and he takes you back to Law. 

Law’s forehead is sporting that annoying dip again, and you know his conversation with Ichiji must not have been a pleasant one. 

“Here she is, Law. Safe and sound, no squished toes or sprained ankles.” You laugh alongside Cora, and even Law lets out a chuckle. “Have fun, you two.” Cora waves and retreats back to the party, stumbling over a chair and dragging down a plate of dessert with him. “I’m fine!” He exclaims as Law sighs and you giggle.

“Hi.” He murmurs as he places his hands on your waist and pulls you in for a small peck. “Want to get out of here?” Law’s lips curve into a mischievous smirk that has you chewing your lower lip in anticipation.

“We can’t. It’s too soon.” But heat is already gathering in your core as Law’s hands roam your sides.

“We’ll come back.” The whisper in your ear is sultry and makes promises you know he intends to keep. 

“Ten minutes…” You exclaim, already losing a battle you never intended to win anyway.

“Half an hour, at least.” He groans in your ear, hands tightening on your hips.

“Fifteen minutes?” You gasp when his lips kiss your neck. “Okay, half an hour.”

“You’re easily convinced…” A chuckle escapes your lips as you let him take your hand and guide you into the house. You both pass a few guests on the way but try to look as inconspicuous as ever as you navigate the ground floor. Law pulls you to a dimly lit hallway and opens a tiny door, it’s a small closet with some of the guests’ jackets and purses. 

With one last check of the hallway, he pulls you in and presses you against the wall, his body instantly pinning yours as his lips devour yours with unbridled hunger. His hands tease and grope your nipples and sides, roaming with intent, making you shiver and tremble under his devotion. 

“Couldn't make it to the room?” You whisper between bated breaths, and he chuckles, his lips pressed against your neck.

“Sweetheart, if I took you to our room, we wouldn’t return to the party tonight. And my cousin will be very disappointed if we’re not here for the slicing of the cake.” Law’s fingers curl the fabric of your dress, pulling it up and settling on your thighs. As his fingers catch on the lace of your panties, he groans, and you sigh. Law immediately catches your mouth in his, his other hand tangles your hair, and he tugs softly to deepen the kiss. The fire burning between your legs feels like molten lava coursing through your veins.

“Law…” You mumble when he breaks the kiss to nibble at your jawline.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to have to be very quiet. Because no one can see us here, but they can hear us.” His lips trail a path down your neck and over your collarbone. One of his hands returns to tease your nipple while the other plays with the hem of your panties. “Can you do that?”

“Depends.” You let out a breathy whisper. 

“On what?”

“On what you plan on doing to me.” Then you have to bite your lip to stifle a mewl as Law’s finger plunges inside your slit, finding you already dripping wet. He groans into your ear, his body pressed against yours only adds stimulation to the ungodly things his fingers are doing inside you. 

“Oh, I have very mischievous plans for you.” A small whimper escapes your lips as he circles your clit with his thumb. “Don’t make a sound, sweetheart.”

But that’s easier said than done. He eases another finger inside, but his rhythm is insanely slow. He circles your clit in tortuous motions, and just as pleasure is mounting up, the smallest of mewls leaves your lips and he stops, mouth hovering over yours. “Not a sound.” You move your hips against his hand in a silent plea for more, for him to finish what he started, and he returns his ministrations. Slowly, languorously, lazily. He’s driving you insane.

“More, Law, please.” You mumble, feeling your legs already trembling and the intense coil of desire ready to snap. 

“If you want more, you need to take it in silence.” His fingers flick your nipple, and you stifle another moan while you nod vigorously. “Eyes on me, sweetheart. If I’m not going to hear you scream, I need to see you fall apart.”

His fingers plunge deeper and faster, the pressure on your clit maddening as your breaths come in shallow, nearly silent gasps. Focusing your eyes on his, you can see the amber in them shining as he takes you in. Your legs tremble relentlessly, and you know you won’t be able to stay silent, not when the pleasure is overwhelming you, crashing with waves of bliss. So Law takes your lips in his and rides your orgasm with you in a shattering kiss, muffling your moans and swallowing your screams. 

When he pulls back and removes his fingers, you’re panting, small beads of sweat dampening your skin as Law smirks at you. “That’s my good girl.” His hand tilts your chin upwards so you meet his gaze again. “Think you can keep that up?” His tone hides a dare, and you don’t quite get what he means until he starts unbuckling his belt, his hand reaching into his pocket for a condom. 

A slight flush creeps into your cheeks as you nod. “I can be quiet.” He grins, getting ready and aligning himself with your entry while a hand wraps under your thigh, elevating it to create an angle. 

“Not a sound, sweetheart.” His whisper against your ear sends a shiver down your spine, anticipation making you tingle as you grasp his shoulders for purchase. His other hand holds your hip steady as he pushes himself inside you, slowly, inch by inch. Your head falls back in abandon as you trap an earth-shattering moan behind closed lips. “You take me so well, you feel so good.”

Law’s grip is firm and possessive as he thrusts with intent. He doesn’t want to keep you on edge this time, he knows there’s every chance of both of you getting caught, so he’s searching to fulfil your pleasure and his with effectiveness. “You’re clenching me so hard, sweetheart. Are you close again?”

You try to answer him, but a whimper comes out instead, and he groans. “I love that you can’t help but make noises for me.” Law’s control is also slipping, he clenches his jaw, brow furrowed tightly as his thrusts become relentless. “Almost there?”

A nod is your answer as your nails dig into his chest, gripping the lapels and trying to ground you on firm reality. “Fuck.” Law lets out just as a wanton moan begins to crescendo on your lips. He silences you with another kiss as the both of you swallow each other’s broken noises, ones you can’t seem to keep quiet as you fall apart and pleasure overwhelms you, overriding all sense of decorum. 

The tremors of the aftershock still course through you, making you shiver as Law pulls back, breathless and grinning at you. “You did so well, sweetheart.” He kisses you and caresses your cheek with his thumb as he composes his pants and helps you straighten your dress and hair. 

You open your mouth and instantly close it. Almost. It was just there. Three words. I love you. You almost said it.

“That was incredible, Law.” These words are safer. These words don’t bring uncertainty or disappointment if he doesn’t feel the same. So you stick with them. “Do you think anyone noticed our absence?” You’re still trying to catch your breath as your emotions rage war inside you.

“In the middle of so many guests? Maybe just my uncle…” You cringe, Doffy is the last person you want to have noticed you slip away. “I’ll go ahead and head to the bathroom, we’ll meet up at the reception, how about that?” You nod, you’re composed enough, Law helped you. The only thing that might give you away is the slight flush of your cheeks or the silly grin you can’t seem to erase. Law kisses your nose in an affectionate manner and opens the closet door. “See you soon.”

You wait another minute while untangling your hair and, with a deep inhale, you exit the closet, heading down the hall towards the garden. 

“Cariño, having fun?”

Shit.

Tag List:@rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @rainbow2312 @alexturnersgirl

|Chapter 15|

[luminetti]

Dressed to Kill

༘⋆ Summary: In which, you, a professional cosplayer, mistake Bakugou’s hero outfit for a really good Halloween costume. ༘⋆ Pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader ༘⋆Warnings: n/a, reader is just the biggest dumbass (lovingly) also, i cannot stress this enough. they are NOT CHILDREN in this. they’re both at least the age of college seniors  ༘⋆Notes: huge thanks to one of my biggest inspirations for writing in general: @andypantsx3 ! this fic is lightly inspired by—and lowkey a lovechild of—her pieces, baby are you playing tricks and unconventional, so if you somehow haven’t read those yet, i strongly recommend doing so!  also now that i actually have more than one piece of writing, id love for some writer/fandom moots! im very new to tumblr and would love friends :’)  ao3 release

Halloween was by far your favorite holiday. 

As a child, you were always drawn to Halloween, not just for the candy, but for the extravagant costumes and house decorations. Nearly every year, you stayed up late with your father, hand-sewing various details onto your costume. Finally, for your eighteenth birthday, you were gifted your very own sewing machine which officially kickstarted your interest in cosplay.

Throughout your first couple years of college, you worked on your Twitter account, posting quick mirror selfies of your various cosplay projects. Only during senior year did you finally feel comfortable enough to go out in public for your first official photoshoot.

‘Comfortable’ was a bit of a stretch. Very seldom does one feel truly comfortable when posing in front of a grandiose fountain in the middle of a public garden, fully clad in foam armor. What made it significantly worse was when the aforementioned armor looked more like a metal bikini than an actual chest plate worn into battle.

Poor character design choices aside, you loved Halloween for that very reason. With everyone dressed up–or down, for some–there was no reason to feel self-conscious during your monthly photoshoots. Sure, there was the occasional snide remark, but the number of supportive comments from passersby was enough to quiet your uncertainty.

This year you had stayed up late for the past month putting the final touches on your purple staff, even attempting an LED system that allowed parts of it to glow. It had taken two weeks to get the prototype of the dress situated since you weren’t used to sewing such a large amount of detail into your fabrics. Unfortunately, this also meant it took significantly longer to finish the outfit than expected, leaving almost no time to do your wig. But, in true cosplayer fashion, you managed to whip something together with an older purple wig, just in time for tonight.

You did, however, only realize the character also had a sword occasionally, but there was no way you were going to make that in time so the staff would have to suffice.

The night had already been proving to be one of the best so far. Starting around eight in the evening, you and some of your closest friends had gotten together for a costume party, a series of shitty horror movies, and a plethora of even shittier cheap cocktails. Despite not being much of a drinker yourself, you always participated in the annual spooky-themed cocktail charcuterie. This year you weren’t holding back. Your pride and joy charcuterie consisted of nine drinks including, but not limited to ghost-themed Aperol Spiritz–nicknamed Spirit Spiritz, Bloody Marys, and your personal favorite, Bonejitos. They even had little skeleton dudes sitting on the rim of the glass.

Unfortunately, your friends weren’t very amused by your festive drinks, even going as far to say your ingenious Bonejitos were a stretch. So, clearly they didn’t see the vision. Eventually, the party events died down as the guests began to go home, allowing the night to evolve into just drinking.

“Did you get a photo of your costume yet?” Himari, your friend from freshman year, questioned.

You shook your head, absently watching as the rest of your friends downed your masterly made Bonejitos. Liars, all of them. “‘A stretch’ my ass,” you scoffed.

Himari dug around in her bag, retrieving her camera. “Halloween photoshoot? Your fit is cute and I’m getting bored here.”

You did like the idea of photography-major level photos with none of the price involved. “I love you, Mari.”

She stuffed your spear under her arm and with that, the two of you stepped out into the cold and crisp autumn air, the breeze running over your bare shoulders and thighs. You shivered lightly, pulling up your thigh-highs and hugging the excess fabric close to your body.

Himari glanced at you in concern. “Does the Raiden Shogun not wear a jacket?”

“Unfortunately, she doesn’t.” You chuckled, rubbing your arms. “You can’t be sexy and wear a jacket,” you joked.

She hummed in sympathy, looking around for a good place to set up. The park was a particularly popular spot during Halloween, specifically known for its comforting lighting and ambience.

 “What about there?” Himari pointed to a small gazebo surrounded by violets, lit up by a string of fairy lights. There were a couple groups nearby, but otherwise it was pretty much empty.

You nodded, excited. “Good eye as always, Mari.”

She handed over your spear and offered an arm,helping you step up onto the platform and underneath the gazebo. While she adjusted the lights to her liking, you took a moment to adjust your skirt and sleeves.

“Do you think it’s too short?” you asked, tugging on the cloth. Thankfully the character wore a pair of shorts underneath, but the dress was barely miniskirt length.

Himari looked over briefly before turning back to the lights. “No, not really. Why? Are you uncomfortable?”

Before you could answer, a group of college-aged girls passed by the gazebo, clearly a bit drunk. As they left, one of the girls that was hanging onto her friend’s arm looked over. “Don’t be, girlie! You look hot as fuck!” she shouted out, words slightly slurred.

You flustered, blabbering out a quick thanks in surprise. There’s nothing like a friendly drunk girl to get your confidence up.

From behind the camera, Himari gave you a thumbs up. “Give me one of these.” She mimed leaning against the wooden banister. “Yeah like that, but with your leg more out.”

The shutter clicked several times as you did your best to recreate her gestures.

Himari proceeded to guide you through a series of poses, occasionally having you incorporate your staff or the gazebo. Eventually you got used to the flashing camera and allowed yourself to melt into the character, embodying her essence as best as you could.

Time flew and before you knew it, Himari was calling you down from the gazebo to look over the photos. You hovered over her shoulder as she flipped through each one, pausing at her favorites.

“I’ll import these onto my laptop and send them back edited sometime this week,” she told you, removing her glasses and wiping them off with her sleeve.

You nodded. “Thanks for doing this, you really didn’t have to.” You rummaged through your bag, hoping to find at least a little money for her efforts. Feeling a couple bills between your fingers, you held them out to her.

Himari’s eyes squinted and you realized she was staring over your shoulder. “I think that guy in costume was looking at you,” she said, still cleaning off the lenses.

You turned to see a tall man across the park, large grenade shaped gauntlets resting on both his arms. He quickly looked away once he saw your head turn. Looking closer, you realized he was dressed in a dark black sleeveless jumpsuit with orange and green straps along his body.

He was clearly a Dynamight cosplayer. And by the looks of it, a really talented one at that.

You were almost convinced that he had real hero equipment on. His armor pieces were strikingly accurate, and you made a mental note to look for more realistic prop materials.

“He probably spent a lot of time on that,” you mused to Himari, who had already gone back to inspecting the photos.

“You should go ask him about it.” she suggested, collecting the rest of her things and zipping her bag. “I’ve gotta catch an Uber soon.”

Maybe it was the lingering confidence gifted by the girl from earlier, but you managed to muster up enough self-assurance to wave goodbye to Himari and stride right up to the cosplayer.

As you got closer, you realized just how much work must have gone into all the details. The gauntlets–a very convincing metal–had several dents and scratches, giving it a worn down look, as if it had been used frequently.

His hair looked far too real to be a wig, likely just being his natural hair with lots of product in it. The most impressive detail by far was his physique. Had he trained specifically for this? The closer you got the more you noticed. If you were lucky, maybe he’d give you the name of his supplier.

“I love your outfit!” You smiled cheerily at him.

He turned to look at you, slightly taken aback. “Thanks?” he replied, folding his arms as he looked you over, eyes lingering on your cosplay.

You felt a twinge of anxiety as he inspected your outfit. He probably just didn’t recognize the character, you convinced yourself.

“I’m a cosplayer too,” you clarified, gesturing to your dress. “But clearly not as dedicated as you.”

You watched as his chest puffed lightly at the compliment, though he titled his head, a bit puzzled.

Clearing your throat awkwardly, you tried a different method. “How long did it take to make?”

He blinked at you and shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe a couple of months? I just told them what I wanted.”

Oh, you got it now. He’s just a model. It wasn’t uncommon for people to collaborate on cosplays, especially ones where one person either commissions or buys a cosplay from an artist, and then models it themself. Either way, he was still one of the best you’ve seen.

You nodded in understanding. “Do you have social media? I’d love to see what else you’ve done.” Pulling out your phone, you loaded up your Twitter, preparing to enter his tag.

“Dynamight Official. All one word,” he replied hesitantly, looking you up and down as if he was scanning for signs of sickness.

You chuckled faintly. He was really dedicated to his role. “Well, what's your name? I follow a lot of cosplayers already. Maybe I’ve seen you?” You pulled up your profile and turned the screen around to show him in case he recognized your tag.

His arms unfolded and his face slowly morphed from confused to exceptionally amused. “Bakugou Katsuki. I am Dynamight.”

Waving him off absently, you nodded as you scrolled through your followed accounts. You swear you’ve seen him online before. “Sorry, I’m not really good at roleplay. But you’re pretty convincing.”

He leaned against the cold metal lamppost, watching you sift through various Twitter accounts. You sneaked a glance to check his facial features again, but he was already staring straight back at you.

In such close capacity, his striking crimson eyes stood out to you. Even his contacts were high quality… Fighting back the warmth that threatened your cheeks and ears, you averted your gaze downwards.

Your eyes flicked to his waist. You hadn’t noticed it before, but a thick black bomber jacket was tied tightly around his torso, unlike the real hero’s costume. Well, you stand corrected. You certainly can be sexy with a jacket.

Speaking of jackets, you had been so caught up in conversation you hadn’t realized how cold it had gotten. The soft breeze from earlier had picked up into chilly wind, rustling the fabric of your dress as it blew by.

Bakufaux–haha–seemed to notice your interest in his jacket, untying it and tossing it over your shoulders. “Bit cold for you, Princess?” he drawled. “D’nno how you’ve managed in that outfit.” He gestured to your short dress and tall socks.

You couldn’t help but notice how his gaze lingered on you for a half second longer than normal. Not that you would’ve said anything. Thanks to his jacket, you were enveloped with warm and musky scents of charcoal and sandalwood. Though, being honest with yourself, you’ve been distracted ever since you walked over.

You snapped out of your trance when he pushed himself off the lamppost and leaned over you. It could’ve been twenty degrees out and you’d still swear you were overheating.

“Ever considered cosplaying in my costume?” He asked, watching your darkening cheeks closely.

Maybe it was the shit eating grin he wore proudly on his face, or the sneaking suspicion in your gut, but you had an inkling of a feeling he knew something you didn’t. In a surge of confidence and curiosity, or perhaps just pure adrenaline, you took a step forward.

“And if I have?”

Something snapped behind his eyes and you could’ve sworn his gaze dropped to your lips. He might’ve actually kissed you if you weren’t interrupted by the sound of glass shattering and the screams of customers inside a late night coffee shop.

You felt your heart rate increase as he swore under his breath, whatever smug expression he previously had was replaced by something far more intense and serious.

‘“I’m not leaving you out here alone, stay close to me,” he urged, taking one last look at you before turning and running towards the sound.

It took you a second to realize you were running behind him as fast as possible.

As the two of you neared the coffee shop, you noticed numerous shards of glass laid out on the concrete. On a second glance, you noticed some of the smaller shards were beginning to melt, turning the ground slightly slick.

You halted to a stop, almost crashing into your new friend. You felt a warm hand snake around your waist, lifting your body off the ground and onto a nearby bench.

“Don’t touch the ground, and stay right here,” he told you sternly, before turning and rushing straight into the cafe.

You watched, frozen in astonishment, only able to hear the horrific sounds of glass and… explosions? Occasionally you caught a glimpse of blonde hair, dropping off a poor customer caught in the crossfire, before dashing straight back inside. In what felt like seconds, he had already retrieved nearly every patron from the cafe, all while the villain was still inside.

Quickening footsteps approached from behind your place on the bench. You barely had a chance to comprehend the noises when a flash of red zipped past you, making a beeline straight for the cafe. Only after several trips in and out of the building did you finally recognize the eccentric costume of Pro-Hero Red Riot as he gathered the remainder of the victims outside.

Through the ringing in your ears you could only vaguely make out shouting between Red Riot and someone else still inside the building. It was all intelligible until he turned to you and the victims. The last words you heard was look away, or at least you assumed.

You weren’t interested in waiting around to find out so you shut your eyes tight and turned away from the scene as best as you could.

At first nothing happened. But after a beat, you felt your eyes burn behind your eyelids as a blistering wave of heat surrounded you. You think you screamed, but you weren’t entirely sure. Every muscle in your body tensed as the bench shook underneath you, threatening to break.

But as quickly as it came, it passed. You couldn’t tell how long you had been trapped in that position, clutching your knees to your chest with your eyes sealed shut. A warm hand shook you out of position, jostling your eyes open.

When your eyes finally adjusted, blocking your vision of the cafe was none other than a tall silhouette, and familiar red eyes.

“Hey, stay with me, Princess. You hurt?”

You felt calloused hands hastily press against your body, examining you for injury. He took a hold of your ankle, easing you into extending. “Anything?”

Shaking your head, you gripped onto him as he lifted you from the bench to your feet, steadying you with strong arms.

“Happy Halloween,” you managed to mutter meekly into his chest.

You felt him shudder beneath your head as he laughed, surprisingly heartily.

“Certainly one you’ll remember.” His low voice resonated in your brain, calming whatever nerves were remaining. “Let’s get you home, m’kay?”

You let him navigate you back to your apartment surprisingly deftly given your shaky directions, until finally you found yourself thanking him at your doorstep and shutting the door behind you.

Now that you were home and given a chance to breathe, you weren’t sure what was real. Everything mixed together in a blur and you couldn’t tell if it was all a dream or not.

As you groggily slumped against your bed, you felt something soft bundle against your back. Sitting up, you reached behind your back to feel the cool fabric of the black jacket you had been holding tightly against yourself. Embroidered on the sleeve were a pair of initials you hadn’t noticed before.

B.K.

With a strange pounding in your chest, you pulled out your phone.

Sure enough, you had one new notification.

@DynamightOfficial followed you back

The device buzzed in your hand with a second notification. A direct message request alongside an image. Swiping to your messages, you opened the text from your new follower.

Front and center was a quick photo of Bakugou’s hero costume, laid out neatly on his bed. Directly underneath the image were two small text bubbles.

u take commissions?

ive got something in mind for ya

[triasticalwarlock]

So, I'm ashamed to say I am officially having a sonic faze. I don't know how I got here. I came across a really cool piece of art of dark sonic. And there it was, that little fucking tingle, that little thing you get when ever you look at a fictional character you've liked for, well, a few years. And it comes running back, and you feel like a miserable son of a bitch... because you like THIS DUDE.

Where did I go wrong? I was perfectly fine with hazbin hotel, and the mother fucker called Adam. Also, due to this, I'm starting to realize a pattern. The characters I liked in the past: Leon from pokemon, sonic the hedgehog, bill cipher, Stanford pines, secret history tails, Adam the first man. Am I the only one seeing a pattern? I AM FOR SOME REASON ATTRACTED TO EGOTISTICAL LITTLE SHITS.

Why do I love this mobian? I honestly don't know, prideful man that is reckless and enjoys danger? Doesn't show much vurnability around people, but that one person(us)? I don't know, don't bother asking. But, it could be that it's a hero, with the ability to snap.

I'm talking about this version of the dude. I don't know why, but when ever I see this motherfucker, I feel something. It's like something is stirring my stomach, but in a good way. I don't know how to describe it, all I can say is that it makes me giddy and makes me kick my feet. It's like, cuteness aggression. And, honestly, I want him to baby me in this form. Imagine, the usual calm and looked up to hero, cupping your face and saying something in a baby tone (i think I've been reading to much Lucifer). Also, this has nothing to due with me wanting this man to ram me in. But to the people out there who still think that dark sonic would hurt his friends, get a service dog. Because you clearly blind. The reason sonic ever even turned dark mode was because his friends got hurt, what makes you think he'd intentionally harm them? I needed to say this, because the amount of art I run into that shows dark sonic about to hurt his friends, usually amy or tails, is pissing me off. Service dogs people, service dogs.

And, just a bunch of things of sonic, because I can.

Silly goose

[trixy812]

004 ☆ Period.

Content: Fem!Reader, Sorcerer!Reader, funny, Nanami is gentleman, Gojo is a man, piece of life, cramps mentioned.

Synopsis: We need to make Gojo shut up, don’t you think?

A/N: I wrote this thinking it could be an Omake :). I hope you enjoy it! As much as I enjoyed writing it

🅼🅰🆂🆃🅴🆁🅻🅸🆂🆃

The meeting at the sorcerers' headquarters had just wrapped up, and the air was thick with fatigue as everyone began to disperse.

But both Gojo and Nanami noticed that y/n was shifting uncomfortably in her seat, her face contorting in pain.

Nanami, ever observant, slipped out of the room. A few minutes later, he returned with a steaming cup of chamomile tea, which he handed to y/n without a word, barely even looking at her.

“Thank you, Nanami,” she murmured, taking a sip. With a sigh, she added, almost as an afterthought, “Every month, it’s the same…these damn cramps.”

Gojo, catching her comment, smirked and leaned in. “Cramps? Seriously?” he teased. “Can’t be that bad, right? I’ve seen you injured for real, and you didn’t roll around like this, looking so weak. Can it really be that bad, just some pain from your own body?”

Nanami sighed, clearly exasperated by Gojo’s usual provocations.

y/n looked up from her tea, her expression darkening as she turned her gaze on Gojo.

“You think you could handle the pain I’m feeling?” she asked, her voice calm but with a challenge underneath it.

Gojo shrugged, confident as ever. “Of course, I could. I mean, you just like making a big deal out of it so people like Nanami will worry about you and be all nice,” he said with a smirk.

That was it. y/n’s patience was officially gone.

“Turn off Infinity,” she demanded, her eyes narrowing. “Let me activate my cursed technique, Empathic Trace, and you’ll see for yourself.”

Gojo raised his eyebrows, unimpressed. “See? You’re already hyping it up, and nothing’s happened.”

y/n clenched her jaw, eyeing him with a glint of malice. “I haven't even touch you! You haven’t even felt anything yet, idiot!”

With that, she reached out, placing her hand on Gojo’s arm and activating Empathic Trace. Her cursed technique allowed her to transmit her emotions and physical sensations to anyone she marked with her energy.

In an instant, Gojo felt a wave of pain slam into his abdomen—the exact cramps that y/n had been enduring.

Gojo doubled over, his hands clutching his stomach as he collapsed to the ground. The pain was overwhelming, and he could barely speak.

“Ahhh! What...what is this?” he gasped, barely able to get the words out.

Nanami, watching with arms crossed and an amused expression, gave Gojo a faint smirk.

“Curious, isn’t it? The strongest sorcerer of our time, brought down by simple cramps.”

Gojo was writhing on the ground, his concentration too fractured to reactivate Infinity. He finally looked up at y/n with desperation in his eyes.

“y/n, please! Turn it off! I can’t even think straight enough to use my technique!”

y/n tilted her head, pretending to consider it. “Apologize,” she replied smoothly, folding her arms. “And beg.”

Gojo groaned, still doubled over, but with his pride visibly crushed, he muttered, “Fine… I’m sorry, y/n. I didn’t know it could…hurt this much.”

Satisfied, y/n held back for a second, then released the technique, watching Gojo slump to the floor in relief. Taking a calm sip of her tea, she smiled, feeling that the sight of Gojo begging had made her own pain almost disappear.

“See? It’s not ‘drama.’ Maybe you just needed a bit of empathy,” she said, grinning.

Nanami allowed himself a small smile of approval, and a thumbs up,while Gojo, for once, was completely out of things to say.

-

🅼🅰🆂🆃🅴🆁🅻🅸🆂🆃

[dreamcubed]

false god | blaise zabini x reader

song; false god [taylor swift] pairing; blaise zabini x pure-blood!slytherin!fem!reader genre; arranged marriage, angst, hurt comfort, fluff, sort-of-e2l word count; 4,7k timeline; deathly hallows warnings; swearing, references to sex/hook-ups, references to battle injuries, questionable views on muggle-borns summary; you had been betrothed to blaise zabini practically your whole life, and while you moved in the same friend group, he had always avoided you. you tried to understand, you really did, but were you really so undesirable?

happy belated valentine's day!!

masterlist

"they say the road gets hard and you get lost when you're led by blind faith."

——————————————

The ring of plated white gold and emerald jewels had sat comfortably on your left ring finger ever since you had been big enough to wear it. It was worth a fortune, as your parents frequently reminded you, so it would be disrespectful to the Zabini family to not wear it with pride. You obeyed, even though Blaise - your affianced - had not worn his (more masculine) twin ring for as long as you had known him.

Sometimes you would catch the pitying looks of your mutual friends whenever the sun shone just right on the piece of jewellery, catching everyone's attention. They all knew that Blaise avoided you, never spoke to you, but it was an unspoken matter. You did your best to never show your hurt on your face, and be a strong and positive woman, like your parents had raised you to be.

You just wanted to make them proud.

It's not that you were in love with Blaise, not by any means. You would have to have actually spoken and bonded with the man to reach that stage. Regardless, rejection hurt, especially when you had no part in the arrangement of your marriage either. You were in the same position as he was, yet he acted as if you were at fault for the situation he found himself in.

You weren't a bad person, and you were at least decently attractive - was it really so bad to be betrothed to you? Why couldn't he just make the best of a bad situation and try to get to know you?

***

The Hogwarts Express had never been colder, even the warm red seats looked sallow and grey, reflecting the sullen looks on everyone's faces. You let out a sigh, pulling your thick jacket tighter around you and sinking into the cushions. Pansy was sat next to you, chewing on her lip thoughtfully as she stared at the water droplets cascading down the window. You hadn't said a word to each other apart from a greeting.

In fact, everyone on the train seemed to be sitting in silence.

Slytherin was the only house with almost full attendance from its students, as even the families who didn't support the death eaters felt confident in the safety of their children thanks to their blood status. The same couldn't not be said for the other houses, which had lost a good chunk of their students due to parental fears. Especially the muggle-borns - every single muggle-born you knew in your year had not shown up to catch the train.

It wasn't a mystery as to why: showing up to the school that was now overseen by Voldemort as a muggle-born was a death wish.

Despite its pure-blood status, your family didn't support Voldemort. That's not to say that they didn't have prejudices against muggle-borns, or that they would let you marry one, but they certainly didn't wish death upon them and would likely be okay with you befriending them. Just as long as you kept your bloodline pure.

The L/N family had remained a neutral party during the First Wizarding War, and were doing the same now during the second.

"Have you seen Draco?" Pansy asked, not even looking at you.

"I think I saw him at the platform at one point."

She hummed, and the silence fell again.

You began biting your nails.

***

The reign of Severus Snape as headmaster of Hogwarts had officially begun, casting an even more intense shadow over the school. As a Slytherin, this was actually quite good news, but you weren't so selfish that you could disregard the wellbeing of the other houses. Plus, the subject changes like Defence Against the Dark Arts becoming simply- the Dark Arts- were quite jarring.

"Can someone pass me the roast potatoes?" the emotionless voice of your fiancé rang out, signifying that he was talking to you. Normally, when talking to your other friends, he would smile, say please, even laugh. But when he was talking to you, he would do so indirectly and without emotion.

Sure enough, you were the person closest enough to the roast potatoes, but you decided to hold back in fulfilling his request, instead locking eyes with him. "Say please."

His eyes bored into yours for a few moments, before he scoffed and said, "Please."

"Was that so hard?" you mumbled, passing over the potatoes. Your friends had gone silent during the exchange, some of them sending pitiful glances your way. You were sick of being treated this way, both by Blaise and your friends, even if your friends did have good intentions.

You resumed your meal, aiming to at the very least enjoy the food of your last ever welcome feast at Hogwarts.

***

All you knew about Blaise was what your parents and friends had told you.

He was a pure-blood, and the son of a beautiful witch who had been widowed seven times under suspicious circumstances and become richer every time. As far as you could tell, it was highly likely that one of these dead husbands was Blaise's father. Admittedly, it made you nervous to marry into such a family, so perhaps it was a good thing that Blaise was so unwilling.

But your mother had told you that you had nothing to worry about, as Ms. Zabini only ever married bad men, and used it as a means to eradicate them.

"A noble cause."

Still, you had the rights to be nervous.

"Back to school party tonight," Millicent bounced up to you and announced, "Just us Slytherins."

"A party?" you had forgotten that such an event existed, given the misery of the world.

"I mean, yeah, we all need a pick-me-up," she shrugged, "It'll be in the common room. Bring firewhiskey."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, but ultimately decided that drunkenness was just what the doctor ordered.

***

In your defence, you had started off slow with the drinks, mixing with lemonade and gradually sipping over a long period of time. However, once that system had (slowly but surely) gotten you drunk, all bets were off.

"Shots!" someone had shouted, and next thing you knew you were downing your sixth shot, after however many mixed drinks you had.

You stumbled away from the dancers to where some of your friends sat chatting, having the sudden feeling that you weren't too far away from passing out.

"Pansy..." you slurred, flopping on to the sofa next to her.

"Salazar, Y/N, how much have you drunk?"

Ignoring her question, you mumbled, "I feel amazing."

"A little self-control next time, yeah?"

You waved her off, no longer feeling like you were about to pass out so stumbling to your feet. You looked around the room with your eyes squinted, deciding that another drink was an excellent idea.

As you were on your way over - your friends calling after you - your vision became blurrier, until you bumped into a hard chest.

"What the fuck?" you cursed, narrowing your eyes and looking up at the person who inconvenienced you.

"Zabini," you muttered.

"Should you be getting another drink?" he asked.

You blanked him, "Does it kill you to be nice to me?"

He said nothing, biting on his inner cheek.

That was when the feeling of passing out returned, only this time in tenfold, making you drop forward. Your eyelids were heavy, you had to close them, and your body was heavy too, too much effort to remain stood up...

The only things you remember seeing after that were flashes of the stairs down to the dormitories - but you weren't walking, so how was that possible? And then throwing up in a toilet bowl, with your hair for some reason out of the way.

And then cushions, and quilt. But not yours: they smelled gorgeous, so you nuzzled your head into the scent and sighed dreamily.

***

When your eyes slowly peeled themselves open the next morning, your head was pounding and you were quite disoriented. Initially, you seemed to be tucked up in your own bed, but upon closer inspection you realised that the forest green decor was not in the usual place of the Slytherin seventh year girls' dormitories. In fact, this was a room that you had never seen before.

"You're up."

Your eyes shot towards the entrance to the connected bathroom, and every limb in your body froze as you laid eyes upon Blaise Zabini, already showered and dressed even though it was a Saturday.

"What- I-" you stuttered, sitting up in bed. You were relieved to see that you were still in the party clothes from the night before: you weren't opposed to a hook-up, but you would've liked to remember it.

"Relax," he sighed, "You blacked out last night. Carried you down here because I can't go down the girls' stairs."

You nodded slowly, trying to piece together the events, "Right..."

He said nothing, moving over to the dresser to spray a fragrance on his wrists. He truly was your typical classy rich boy. You took this opportunity to look around at the other beds in the room, seeing that the curtains were drawn around one in particular.

"Your beloved Pansy is in there."

Salazar, had she and Draco had sex while you were sleeping in the same room?

"At the very least they put a sound-proofing charm on," Blaise confirmed that thought, and you couldn't help but remark that this was the most he had ever spoken to you.

"Where did you sleep?" you had to ask.

This time, Blaise blanked you, his dark oak eyes void of emotion.

"Next to you," he eventually said, making your breath hitch. "Like we're not engaged, L/N," he scoffed, making you scowl.

"Since when have you acted like it?"

He didn't reply, and you decided that if you let it escalate to an argument, you might wake up the others. So, you forced yourself out of bed, picking up your shoes and leaving without another word.

Walk of shame, here you come.

***

Typically, if one of the girls in your dorm stumbled in the morning after a party in their clothes from the night before, there would be immediate questions of what happened and with who. But, when you entered your dorm, you were met with silence. Partially because half of the girls were still asleep, but mainly because the girls who were awake avoided looking at you.

Daphne was the only one forward enough to say something. "I saw Blaise carry you down."

To be fair, that would explain the lack of questions about hook-ups. They hadn't suspected that the two of you had sex. You simply hummed in response, just wanting to strip yourself of your clothes and makeup and crawl under your own duvet.

But Daphne still wasn't forward enough to ask if that meant your engagement had become a less cold one, as that would be entering the territory of the unspoken agreement to never mention the elephant in the room of Blaise's unwarranted disdain for you.

So, you were able to settle into a new slumber unhindered.

***

The party had been a pleasant but unfortunately temporary distraction from the miserable atmosphere that was Hogwarts. Learning the dark arts made you feel dirty, unclean - like you were announcing to the whole world that you were a death eater. You knew you weren't, and that you would never receive the Dark Mark, but you couldn't help but feel like a bad person.

You knew, however, that being a Slytherin meant the other houses looked at you with disdain, and also that many of your friends weren't entirely opposed to the Dark Lord's cause. It was something that made you sick to your stomach, yet you refused to voice these thoughts to anyone.

Not even Christmas could cheer you up, when before the colourfully decorated castle walls had filled you with a joy like no other. It didn't even feel like Christmas, it was as if all the saturation in the world had been lost, leaving behind a cold, dull grey hue. You had never been so sure of the fact that you would go home for Christmas than you were that year. At least your home wasn't shadowed by the rule of Voldemort, even if it was a tad cold and empty.

"I'll see you in the new year, yeah?" Daphne said to you, pulling you into a hug, "Have a good Christmas."

"You too," you returned the embrace, "And happy new year."

She smiled at you, and that was when you caught sight of Blaise in the corner of your eye. You hadn't spoken since the events of the Slytherin party, primarily because you had avoided him. But, he was walking towards you.

"Merry Christmas," he said monotonously, and Daphne took that as her cue to disappear.

"Merry Christmas," you said curtly back, picking up your trunk as you prepared to get off the train.

"Our families are having dinner together over the holiday."

You hesitated in your movements upon hearing that, but decided against replying, instead leaving him stood there with an expressionless face.

***

It wasn't that your parents didn't love you or care for you by any means, you knew that if you refused to marry Blaise Zabini they wouldn't disown you. But, they were raised with certain values and customs, and you had been raised into them as well. You wanted to make them proud - you just wished that the husband they had picked for you was a more willing participant in the arrangement.

So, when Blaise Zabini and his recently widowed (for the millionth time) mother arrived on your doorstep, the smile on your face wasn't entirely false. There were some truth to your emotions, despite the current state of the world.

"As you know, Blaise and Y/N are in their final year of Hogwarts," Ms Zabini spoke proudly once you were all sat around your dining table, "I believe it's time we start planning the wedding."

"I couldn't agree more," your mother replied, "It should be an elegant affair."

"That goes without saying."

You chewed on your lip.

"Y/N, what colour theme would you like?" your mother asked.

Your breath hitched, as you tried to scrape together a daydream of your dream wedding.

"Maybe pastel green?" you suggested timidly, "Since we're both Slytherins."

Ms Zabini nodded her head approvingly, "Is that agreeable to you, Blaise?"

The man shrugged, "Whatever Y/N wants."

"That makes things easy," the widow said, "It shall be a wonderful event."

***

After dinner, your collective parents had left you and Blaise to your own devices, suggesting that you show him your room. Part of you was surprised they were allowing a boy into your bedroom with no supervision, but you supposed some formalities were wavered due to your engagement to be married.

Blaise snorted when he entered your room: covered in moving posters and animated Lego sets, your four poster bed being pink and frilly with enchanted butterfly decor all around the wood.

"It's a bit mismatched," he said simply.

"It's home."

He raised an eyebrow at that, and silence consumed the both of you. The tension that hung in the air was thick, making you feel like you would go insane if you didn't say something.

"I'm not that bad, you know."

Blaise turned to face you from where he was sat at your desk, meanwhile you had perched on the end of your bed.

"I get that being tied to someone not of your choosing is a bit suffocating - believe me, I know - but you could make it easier for yourself by actually trying to get to know me."

"I do know you."

You rolled your eyes, "You know what I mean, Blaise," his first name was a foreign taste on your tongue, "You could have a worse wife than me."

He appeared to ponder your words for a while, stewing in the dampening tension of the atmosphere meanwhile you anxiously awaited his response. It was as if every action he took was intentional in making your nerves spike.

"The truth is, Y/N, I resent you."

You sat, stunned.

"My freedom to choose has been taken away from me."

Your blood boiled, making you stand up, "And I'm to blame for that? I'm in the same situation as you are, you knobhead."

He said nothing.

"I wasn't the one who made the decision. Stop acting like you're the only one here who's having a hard time."

Blaise went to open his mouth, but you carried on.

"Not to mention, there are people out there dying in the war right now," you vaguely gestured towards the window, "You should count your lucky stars that the biggest problem in your life is having to marry me!"

You scoffed, watching as he stared wide-eyed at you. After you realised he had nothing to say, you left the room to head down to the kitchens. Salazar, you needed a cup of hot chocolate after that whole ordeal.

***

The dark grey clouds cast a grim shadow over the once buzzing atmosphere of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and they only seemed to get gloomier by the day. It was all you could do to stand on the sheltered bridge as you watched rain pour down, even though it was meant to be Spring. The mood of the wizarding world had always had a strange effect on the weather.

Your gloveless fingers were beginning to grow numb in the cold, but you didn't move, nor make any attempt to warm them up. You just wish that you could say that your low mood was for something as selfless as the current danger muggle-borns were in. But, no, you were egotistically thinking about your own qualms - i.e. your upcoming wedding with a man who hardly looked your way.

Ever since the argument at Christmas, he had gone back to disregarding your existence, apart from the few occasions you would catch him staring at you when he thought no one was watching. Aside from that, both your mother and his were frequently owling you about decisions for the wedding, which was making the whole ordeal seem a lot more real than it did before.

"L/N," the last voice that you expected to hear called out from beside you.

Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to turn around, as if you were paralysed.

"You'll freeze to death out here," he spoke again, this time closer to you, "Everyone's wondering where you are."

Slowly, you turned your head to look at Blaise Zabini, your sallow eyes boring into his.

"They're looking everywhere for you."

"Tell them I'm fine," you eventually spoke.

"I don't think you are, though," he sighed, "You look like you're one minute away from hypothermia."

You shrugged, "Nothing magic medicine can't fix."

Blaise rolled his eyes, grabbing your hand, "Fuck, you're like ice."

That was when he started dragging you back to the castle, and you didn't have the energy to resist at all.

"What are you doing out here, anyway?"

You scoffed, "Like you couldn't guess."

He didn't reply to that statement, instead saying, "We're getting you warmed up."

He sat you in front of the fire in the Slytherin common room, wrapping a forest green blanket around you and placing a warm cup of hot chocolate in your hand. Your friends gathered around you, asking questions about where you had been and if you were okay, but you replied to none of them. Eventually, Blaise urged them all to give you space, letting out a sigh in the process.

Your heart twisted, and you attempted to suppress the pain by sipping on the drink.

It burnt your tongue.

"Careful," Blaise murmured, sitting on the sofa behind you.

You didn't even have the energy to scowl.

"We have our NEWTs soon, you have to take care of yourself."

That wasn't the only thing you had soon.

"You don't have to pretend like you care," you eventually forced out between chattering teeth.

You paused - waiting for him to say something. Anything. Part of you was praying to the gods above that he would say he wasn't pretending, that he did truly care. Instead, his silence was deafening, and your heart twisted and turned all that more. Why couldn't you just hate him?

Who would have thought it would be such a curse to have feelings for your fiancé?

***

Dust swarmed your senses, wrenching at your lungs and causing you to cough horrifically like you were a seasoned chainsmoker; you could barely see a metre ahead of you, and it was all you could do to shield your eyes with your arm as you progressed forwards. Through the crumbles and cracks, you could hear yells of Latin, thrown aggressively and with raw passion that had your blood spiking.

As far as you could tell, you were still in the dungeons - but you needed to get out of them, as they appeared on the verge of collapsing. You hadn't particularly engaged in any duels yourself, both because you were a coward, and because you lacked duelling skills. However, you had aided some students against the death eaters here and there on your progression through the castle.

You couldn't take a completely neutral stance like your parents.

You coughed harder, spluttering as your feet found stairs and began to climb up them - stumbling, but not falling.

"Help," a strained voice called out, making you assess the situation around you as best you could. As you inched further towards the left, you could make out the figure of someone stuck under rubble halfway up the staircase. You moved even closer.

"Blaise?" you croaked out.

A groan.

"Fuck," you mumbled, quickly muttering a spell to lift the rubble off of him. You saw the blood staining his clothes and gasped.

"It snapped my wand," he said, wincing as he tried to move.

You did your best to help him up, letting him rest his weight on your shoulders as you continued to push up the stairs.

"The dungeons are about to collapse," you said, carefully navigating your way around the corner once you finished the stairs.

"The whole-" he groaned, "-castle is."

You grimaced, "You need a healer."

But getting to the makeshift hospital ward without getting caught up in a duel would be quite a challenge. Then, it suddenly hit you.

"Which side are you on?" you quickly asked.

He scoffed, "Which side do you think? I'm still here." He then hunched over with an even louder groan than before, you swiftly moved to support his weight more.

Most Slytherin students who were either neutral or on the side of the death eaters had abandoned Hogwarts instead of staying to fight. You were a coward, but you would never have been able to forgive yourself if you had left. Instead, you found yourself stuck in the dungeons, some way, somehow.

"You stayed to fight," you murmured.

He went to say something, but another sharp pain coursed through him.

"Fuck," you cursed.

***

By some miracle, you reached the hospital ward with minimal further damage, and managed to get Blaise seen to instantly. You were amazed that they didn't question two Slytherin students being on their side, but you supposed it made sense: they were the good guys.

As you watched them take his shirt off to assess the damage, a glimmer of something against his chest caught your eye. It was connected to a thin silver chain that dangled around his neck, showing slight signs of wear and tear, implying he didn't even take it off when showering. When your vision cleared, you realised that the shimmery object along the chain was none other than the white gold band of green jewels that was the matching pair to the ring on your finger.

A lump caught in your throat, "You're wearing it," you choked out.

Blaise's eyes were shut, but he smiled tiredly, "Always."

Tears pricked at your eyes.

***

Eventually, what would be known as the infamous Battle of Hogwarts ceased fire: Lord Voldemort had fallen at the hands of Harry Potter. But there weren't cheers.

There was only devastation.

The wreck that the once majestic Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had become, and the subsequent deaths of thousands of kind-hearted people who had so much life to live. It was the epitome of bittersweet to watch people going around clearing up after the battle. You were grateful to be among the living, sat next to Blaise as he slept restlessly on a mat on the floor.

There wasn't really anyone else for you to talk to in the aftermath after all: Slytherins were quite isolated from the other houses, and hardly any Slytherins had stayed.

You allowed yourself the luxury of taking Blaise's hand in your own and squeezing it gently, letting a solitary tear cascade down your cheek. Was it relief? Was it hope? Was it happiness? Or was it sadness? Melancholia? Regret?

You didn't know, you simply allowed the feeling to wash over you.

"I didn't stay to fight," Blaise said out of nowhere, his voice gruff and quiet.

"Hm?"

"I stayed because you stayed."

Your heart jolted at his words, "Really?"

"Of course," he peeled his eyes open, "'Til death do us part."

You squeezed his hand again, "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you act like you hated me?"

He sighed, appearing to be gathering as much energy together as he could, "I resented you, yes, but I- I was also scared of hurting you. You know what everyone thinks of my mother - that she's a-" he coughed, "-serial killer. Killing her husbands."

You admired his smooth face, despite its cuts and gashes.

"I was scared of becoming her, and I didn't want that to be your fate."

You reached out a hand to graze his prominent cheekbone, letting the tiniest of smiles tug at your lips.

"We'll be okay, Blaise," you murmured softly, "You're not like her."

He smiled slightly, wincing in the process. "No arranged marriages for our kids?"

You nodded, "No arranged marriages for our kids."

***

Your parents walked either side of you as you made your way down the grassy aisle, the summer heat blazing down on to the prettily flowered meadow. In your hands was a bouquet of white and pastel green peonies, and on your figure was a gorgeous princess ball gown that cost a small fortune. All your family and friends were stood up from their seats, gazing at your every move. Blaise, proudly stood at the altar in a black suit with a mint coloured waistcoat, was no exception. His eyes were trained into yours, making your heart flip tenfold.

Meeting him in front of the officiant, you passed your bouquet off to Pansy before allowing yourself to truly smile in your fiancé's presence. He took your hands into his and squeezed ever so slightly, as the officiant began to speak.

It felt like forever before the vows.

"I, Mr Blaise Zabini, promise to take Miss Y/N L/N to be my wife, and to love and cherish her, in sickness and in health, 'til death do us part."

He slipped the ring on to your finger, where it settled above your engagement ring.

The attention was then on you.

"I, Miss Y/N L/N, promise to take Mr Blaise Zabini to be my husband, and to love and cherish him, in sickness and in health, 'til death do us part." You pushed the larger ring on to his finger.

"I now, by the power vested in me, pronounce you husband and wife."

Blaise swooped down to kiss you warmly on the lips as cheers erupted from the crowd, and you found yourself smiling into his lips.

"I love you," he whispered. Words he had never spoken before.

"I love you too."

'Til death do us part.

—————————————

masterlist

written; 27/12/2023 —> 15/02/2024 published; 16/02/2024 edited; —/—/——

[thisismyname43]

Okay I know i'm a bit late but I really want to talk about THIS

Now a lot of people have been saying it's 3, which for a lot of the fanbase would be the best case scenario. Now while I do know Luke LOVES to troll us on SMG34 and basically dangle it right in all of our faces, I'm going to look at this on a hopeful SMG34 perspective.

So we all know it's Pride Month, meaning this would be the BEST time to let 3 and 4 have their little gay moments.

I've seen a lot of people mention the Mickey Mouse monstrosity, but I also think the bomb should be noted.

The significance of the gift becomes exemplified when you realize 3 wanted Boopkins to rizz someone up with it. This means 3 sees it as a romantic item, something to potentially give to a loved one. The bomb 4 has in his suitcase also matches the ones on top of 3's cafe, meaning 4 probably got the bombs from YOU KNOW WHO.

So what does this all mean?

What I like to think is that SMG34 is already canon, except it isn't directly stated to the viewer's. I think 3 and 4 are going to show signs of romance, and if you put the pieces together you can code it's for each other. I think 3 confessed to 4 since it's Pride Month and gave him the Mickey Mouse statue plus some bombs because that's what 3 loves, and 4 accepted his confession. But I don't think we'll ever see this really happen, we won't see them kiss or anything but there will be moments throughout the month that can be seen as romantic coming from those two.

If my theory is right then for future episodes we'll be given hints regarding their relationship yet it won't ever be specifically stated. That is of course unless Luke decides to grow some balls and make it officially canon/j (Srry Luke ily)

Honestly I think the main reason why it hasn't become canon already is because of backlash from the community, especially now that OG SMG4 "fans" keep shitting on his content instead of minding their own business.

By making SMG3 and SMG4 have romantic moments/tension yet never be confirmed gay for each other, Luke is essentially making both sides "happy", wanting to please everyone because that's just how he is.

Sorry I got sidetracked! Honestly I understand if you didn't want to read all that, but if you did, kudos to you! I just kinda wanted to talk about this because it's been on my mind for awhile.

Thanks for listening! Oh! And if you made it this far, have a free pic of some plushies

[one-idea]

Master list

This is more for me so I have a record of all my Aus in one place but incase anyone is interested.

Dream Dream Masterlist

A devil fruit user with the ability to steal a persons dreams/ambitions steals Luffy’s dream to become the pirate king. This leaves a despondent Luffy who doesn’t believe in his or any of his crews dreams (their dreams have become part of his) the crew is left to get his dream back.

(Big family feels for all of the Strawhats and some Zolu)

Reverse Strawhats Masterlist

In a parallel universe where Ace meets Whitebeard early and much like Luffy and Shanks makes a promise (to one day surpass Whitebeard) when he sets out to sea he meets with Kuina, Nojiko, Kaya, Reiju, and many others. They go on the strawhat journey (with some twist and turns)

One day (maybe in the Wano fight maybe not) a devil fruit activates sending Luffy and the strawhats to this world. Allowing for Luffy and Ace to reunite, but also Robin and Olivia (her mom) Chopper and Dr. Hiriluk, Law and Rosinante and many more.

Official Fic

Zoro’s arc Masterlist

I really wanted a Zoro arc. Where his old sensei contacts him about needing Wado Ichimonji (to defeat an enemy that can only be cut by one of the 21 great grade blades) Zoro has to return but he hates leaving the crew. He tells Luffy (there’s no way he’s leaving without an explanation) and Luffy is not letting him go alone.

There are many twist including old memories and new knowledge (maybe Kuina’s death wasn’t an accident)

Big Zoro feels, his relationship with the crew and some Zolu (cause I can)

(Pleant of Zoro and crew feels but mainly Zolu)

Nika cult Masterlist

A Nika worshiping cult wants to bring Nika back to the world, to do this they have to kill Luffy. They almost succeed, Nika takes over to keep Luffy alive. Now it’s up to the crew to find away to save Luffy. But it’s so weird to travel with Nika. Who knows them, because Luffy loves his crew, but Nika is not Luffy. So it’s like hanging out with your loved ones friend you never met.

Big focus on the crews love for Luffy. (All the crew including Jinbei) big focus on Sanji (whole cake guilt) Robin (she adores her captain and crew) and Zolu

Wado’s POV Masterlist

A retelling of One Piece from Wado Ichimonji’s point of view

Her pride in her dumb son Zoro, her adoration of their captain and king, her love of the crew, and her absolute annoyance with Sandai Kitsune. (Also the relationships with Yubashiri, Shusui, and Enma)

Sun god and king of hell / madoka magica fusion

If you’ve watched Madoka Magica you know. But Luffy loses himself to Nika. Maybe to save the crew of maybe the whole fleet, but Luffy’s no longer in control. Zoro truly becomes the king of hell and uses his power as Asura to block Nika’s influence over Luffy, allowing Luffy to be Luffy. But every now and then Nika tries to break free.

Please just watch the end of madoka magica revolution

Part 1

An actually plot?

Who remembers and why Ace is a problem

Roger and Rouge live and raise Ace/Sabo/Luffy

Roger doesn’t die for his illness and lives with rouge and Ace. Shanks finds Luffy and adopts him, but leaves him in the east blue. Roger comes to meet Luffy and takes him a and Sabo (who Luffy befriended) with him

Part 1: main concept

Shanks raises ASL brother Masterlist

This involves a lot of rearranging of cannon events. But basically Shanks realizes that Luffy is living alone and promises him the next time he comes to Dawn island he’ll take Luffy with him. Crap finds out and take Luffy to Dadan, where he meets Ace and Sabo. Shanks returns just in time to stop the Bluejam pirates from separating the ASL brothers. He spends some time getting to know the other two boys and decides to take them with him.

Skyward Sword/Zelda au

Luffy remembers his past Life and Nika while separated from the crew. The crew is trying to find him while slowly remembering their own past lives. They are only finding bits and pieces but one memory stands out. The death of Nika at the hands of Asura.

The whole story follows the idea of Skyward sword. That Luffy is Nika reincarnated and needs to finish the job Nika set out to do before he past. Other people (the red hair pirates or the revolutionary’s) are helping him remember his past life while stoping the Strawhats from interfering.

The main idea

Who is guiding Luffy/who is taunting the crew

The Strawhats past lives and feelings

The Spade’s save Ace Masterlist

Masked Deuce, Mihar, and Skull the officers of the Soade pirates chase after Ace when he leaves the Moby. They catch up just in time to pull him out of his fight with Blackbeard. Hurray Ace is safe, but they have a new problem. Blackbeard is going after Luffy.

One shot ideas/asks

DnD Ace/Sabo character sheet

Acedeuce: cooking

Part 2 the cookie saga begins

Cookie saga 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

Zolu: a devil fruit that forces you to obey orders hits Zoro and the resulting angst from our boys

Part 2

Fem Ace runs into Sabo pre-cannon leading to some fun assumptions by the Whitebeard crew.

Art of Fem Ace by @vulnonapix1234

More Fem Ace

More are of Fem Ace by @vulnonapix1234

Jail break au: the strawhats head straight for Ace after Thriller Bark

Will Sandai Kitsune break

[im-not-samantha-im-samanta]

Hello again, nonny!

Oh god, I'm so sorry how long this request took me to make.

I really wanted to make your request since you seem really sweet, but I struggled so much! I changed formats and ideas for your request at least 20 times and I'm so burnt out both creatively and in my personal life.

I'm not fully satisfied with my work, I feel like this piece could've been a bit better. But anyways I really hope you'll find the final results acceptable, and I'm again sorry for the way too long wait.

_

🍎🎶//Not such an awful colour after all...//🎶🍎

(Lilith and Lucifer x gender-neutral!imp!reader)

___________________________________________

Type: Fanfic

Settings: Romantic

Genre: Fluff, though a bit of hurt/comfort feel,

!TRIGGER WARNING!: Reader is hinted to be lonely and maybe a little depressed, hints of Reader having been mistreated in the past, occasional swear words used, idk if it's a trigger but Lucifer is a little awkward at interacting with gender-neutral reader at first (but he's supportive!), mentions of typical Hazbin Hotel stuff like hell, violence, etc., I believe the interaction between Lucifer and Lilith will give you second-hand embarrassment (but I imagine them being this lovey-dovey with each other, sorry), reader is also quite awkward and you'll probably also have second-hand embarrassment from this, and maybe a bit of not-sexual predator/prey feel in some parts is you squint (really not intended in a sexual way), and that should be all!

Sidenote: Reader is written as gender-neutral as per request. But if reader seems to be leaning towards more feminine sense, it's purely unintentional and I apologize!

Sidenote: Lucifer's portrayal is based off what we've seen in the show. As for Lilith, she's written as how the fandom's been portraying her before official release,

Sidenote: It's possible that reader might be a little neurodivergent coded. I just wrote what felt natural to me, and since I'm not a neurotypical, it might've affected Reader's portrayal,

_

That should be all,

Enjoy,

___________________________________________

Ah, those skies of red. Those sweet skies of red, they're all you've ever known.

Just those skies of red. And streets painted in blood, their shade makes you feel at home.

Skies of red, bloodied streets. As well as endless labyrinths bathing in the shade of ruby.

This is what makes up your entire world as a whole.

What makes up every twist, and every corner, even the littlest of crannies.

The colour of red - it seems to be an ever present companion.

A never leaving company, one that cannot be escaped no matter where you go.

Perhaps it is a punishment given to the sinners - to spend eternity in a sea of blood.

And only have a few distant memories of all the colours life holds.

A punishment to daily remind sinners of that one simple truth.

That just like the Pride ring is drained of colours, they themselves are drained of humanity.

At least, that's what's being passed on as the truth...

You yourself are not one of them, you're not a soul lost to sin and temptation.

And yet, you live the same exact way they do - in a single colour world.

Which is the only world you have ever known.

You may be an imp, sure.

You may have the upper hand over sinners, being able to travel outside Pride.

However, hell works just the same way the human world does.

At least in some ways.

Same as with humans, if you in hell don't have the means, the only travelling you can afford is taking out the trash.

And that's all. Nothing more, nothing less.

If we're bring honest here, you actually don't feel like you have the upper hand in this.

Especially considering the fact you're a lowly imp that can barely make a living.

If anything, you would say that sinners are the ones in the lead here.

Because they had experienced something you'd never have - a life outside of hell.

Before getting to hell, all sinners got to experience all the wonders of life.

Especially all those beautiful colours life could hold and come with - something you could only dream of.

You often wonder, though, just how it must feel to have everything you know taken away.

First having everything, and then ending up in a place that lacks most of what used to make up your whole world.

It's a pretty good punishment for sins if you think about it long and hard enough.

But you still don't think it's fair this punishment to see nothing but shades of red involves you too.

You never did anything wrong, and yet you live the same way sinners do.

And that's a fact you've still not accepted, and you probably never will.

The other imps in the Pride ring never seemed to be as bothered by this though.

They never really agreed with your desire of wanting more than just this.

Not even those that were the same as you - without the option to travel or move out of Pride.

Even your own parents always said that you were making this into too much of a big deal.

They didn't understand you, just like none of the other imps around you did.

That fact alone has always made you feel really singled out throughout your whole life.

You felt alone, and like no one really got you or your frustrations regarding living in a single colour world.

You felt like such an oddball - and the other imps didn't really help on that regard.

Most of them would point their fingers at you, and ridicule you.

You experienced that treatment especially when you were younger, still a naive little child.

Because back then you didn't know it was better to keep your mouth shut if your opinions didn't match what the rest thought.

You didn't know any better, but eventually, you've learned to keep such things to yourself.

You had to if you didn't want to continue being lonely and mistreated.

And so, you've pushed your distaste for the colour of red aside, never mentioning it ever again.

Or well, that's how it was until a really unusual and extraordinary day.

On one certain day, a beautiful, vividly turquoise rose was found in Pride.

And it was such an unusual sight that the petite little flower was taken and placed into a museum.

Yet, no one really seemed to care for that small little bloom.

No one really rushed to the museum building to see that little piece of miracle.

No one was excited about it.

No one except you.

It sure felt lonely all over again to be the only one there.

The only one standing in front of the flower secured behind the protective glass.

The only one eagerly wanting to take in every little detail of the flower with true and genuine enthusiasm.

But at the moment you finally got to live your childhood dreams, it didn't really matter.

It was not your loss, it was your gain.

And so, you stood there, gazing fondly at the petite bloom.

And as you did so, you eventually found yourself talking to the flower gently.

"Aren't you just the prettiest little thing all of hell's ever seen?".

You melted over the little miracle as if it could hear.

You spoke to it, letting those turquoise petals know just how much you admired them.

And you could've cared less about whether or not you looked silly.

This was a dream come true - and you've made sure that the little thing knew.

"You have no idea how much I've been wishing for something like you to happen here in hell...".

You found yourself confessing, telling the flower all you've kept inside for years and years.

All of what you've had to push aside and share with no one until this single moment.

And it felt amazing to finally let it all out after suppressing it all for so long.

Even if that small thing probably couldn't even hear or understand any of what you've shared.

Even if all you got in response was just and only deafening silence.

Silence that reminded you that you're the only one around.

The only one to have these certain thoughts regarding your hatred for the colour of red.

And your frustrations about your desires to see more of the colours life can hold.

You really were all alone on this one it seemed...

"Truly a sight to see, am I right?".

A voice broke you out of your thoughts.

And you then found yourself facing a stranger.

An ordinary height man - one with porcelain skin and golden locks for hair.

And two vividly yellow pools for eyes, with their centers of blood red.

Blood red - that one damn, awful shade that you held so much hatred for.

And yet, despite that, you had to admit that the man was quite the looker.

And he definitely knew how to dress - all fancy, and, dare you'd say, flawless.

Well, flawless if you ignored the presence of the colour red in his attire.

But nonetheless, he was truly something you could stare at for hours and not get bored.

And it was quite the surprise that such a man would approach someone like you.

A lowly imp - a creature beneath nearly all of hell kind.

"I wasn't talking about myself, you know?".

The man's voice brought you out of your thoughts for the second time today.

And as his teasing words settled in, you realize that you've been caught staring at him!

A blush immediately covered your face at that realization.

And you profoundly attempted to apologize, stumbling over your words as you did.

The stranger, however, didn't seem all too bothered, nor did he seem disgusted.

If anything, he looked amused, and the warm chuckle he gave reassured you about that assumption.

"Oh, it's nothing to get worked up over,".

The man silenced you gently, waving his hand dismissively.

"I am aware of the effect I have on women, men...".

He went on casually before pausing, and looking you up and down.

"As well as pretty little things such as yourself...".

He grinned at you seductively, but then you could almost see the gears turning in his head.

And as his eyes widened at what seemed to be a realization, his face shifted to a look of panic.

"Sorry- am I allowed to call you a thing? That's not offensive, is it?".

He questioned, making your embarrassment ease up.

He seemed as socially awkward as you at that certain moment.

And you couldn't help but smile as he sputtered some more.

"Fuck- sorry, would it be more acceptable to call you a pretty little person?".

The stranger asked, looking genuinely panicked about the situation.

But before you could reassure him, he went on a tangent.

"Wait- that's probably-".

He sputtered, stumbling over his words without catching a break.

It would be quite a comical sight to see - Him, a gorgeous demon - stressing over possibly having insulted a mere imp.

And to the point of nearly crumbling and begging for forgiveness too.

Truly a scene one doesn't get to see on the daily basis.

You might've even laughed at him if only you didn't feel quite bad for him.

He was obviously a decent person and meant well.

Which was not something you see in hell everyday either.

"Sorry! I've not romanced a gender nonconfirming individual before,".

The man chuckled awkwardly, nervously reaching out with his hand to fix his hat.

But then he almost seemed to choke back on his own chuckle before he, as if in a rush, added:

"-but I'm not actually trying to romance you! I'm just-".

He didn't get to finish his ramblings as you've decided to finally ease his nerves.

"It's all good, no worries,".

You gently cut the stranger off with a friendly chuckle.

And you even offered a soft smile to add to your reassurance.

You genuinely didn't want for this man to stress himself out - he seemed quite sweet.

"You did pretty well for your first time,".

You added in a light-hearted voice, feeling the need to relax the man further.

And to your words, the stranger responded with a surprised blink of his eyes, and his mouth going agape.

But that reaction was short lived as he soon grinned, looking pretty proud of himself.

"I did?".

Was the following verbal answer your reassurance received.

And being the good-natured person you were, you nodded in confirmation.

You didn't get annoyed with him, you actually enjoyed this interaction a lot.

It was like a breath of fresh air to finally talk to someone real.

And someone who was friendly and not a mean-spirited bitch at that!

"Wow, that's... That's a huge relief!".

The stranger chuckled again, but this time it was less awkward, and more warm and relaxed.

"It sure wouldn't do my reputation any good if I were to insult one of my subjects,".

He mused casually while tugging a little at his coat and fixing it to his liking.

"even if by complete accident,".

He added, but then his previous words sunk in, and you had to do a double take.

What did he mean by 'subjects'?

"Um... subjects?".

You voiced your thoughts and confusion, to which the man, still grinning, raised an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah?".

The stranger said with a voice tone that hinted it should be obvious, as if there was no place for confusion.

But you only stared at the man, clearly not getting the memo.

Yet, the man didn't seem offended, he actually seemed more amused than anything.

"Wait, you actually-?".

He broke put into a short, yet hearty laugh as he gripped onto his hat.

He laughed, but he didn't seem to be ridiculing you or have any ill will.

He just seemed to find the whole situation entertaining.

"My- oh, my!".

The stranger's laughter died down, only a few low chuckles leaving him as he uttered those words.

"Now that's something I don't see every day! You don't really do politics, do you?".

He asked you with a playful smirk, his sharp teeth peeking out from under his upper lip.

And you answered with a shake of your head, confirming the man's suspicions.

"Ah, that explains it,".

The stranger mused as he casually leaned onto his cane in the shape of an apple.

"Well, fortunately for you,".

The man began after a short pause, his eyes half-lidded and relaxed.

With a laid-back grin to complete the look.

"I'm not really one of those stuck-up royals who quite literally lose their shit over people not recognizing them,".

He gave a warm chuckle, along with a look of the same warmth as his laugh.

Like sweet honey stirred into a warm cup of tea.

Then, the stranger with the eyes of ruby put his free hand on his hip.

And he casually crossed his legs, all while still leaning against his cane.

He made his pose look so easy, and completely effortless. Like he had no weight the cane needed to support.

It was quite impressive.

And you wondered whether the man really weighed close to nothing.

Or if it was some sleight of hand kinda deal used to gain admiration from others.

Well, whichever case it were, the cane was perfectly still and straight.

As if the handsome demon wasn't even leaning on it.

"Yeah, that's not really my style,".

You heard the male say, drawing your attention back to him instead of the spear-like cane.

And you looked at the male just in time, because you got to see him casually checking his nails at the end of his statement.

Or well, you got to see him looking at where his nails would be as the stranger had black gloves on, giving no access to his nails.

But still, the gesture got the point across.

You understood the action was to deliver his words in a more smug and careless fashion.

Like he saw himself as above the rest of the popular demons.

And maybe as if he looked down on the others.

Not others as in low class.

Others as in the other royals, those who felt insulted if one didn't recognize them.

But that's beside the point.

What mattered more than how he said it, was the context of what he said.

Because the message that sunk in was clear - this man was a high class it seemed.

"Oh... so, you're a royal...?".

You found yourself saying in a way that made it seem like you were asking.

Like you weren't just repeating what was said to you, but like you wanted to hear a confirmation.

But despite that though, the voice tone you spike in wasn't really impressed nor intimidated.

Unlike what would've been expected of you upon such a find.

But your reaction was genuine, contrary to what one might think.

You truly weren't really impressed or intimidated by the revelation - you didn't find any reason to be.

One could call you naive, but you didn't feel the need to cower or be in awe.

Because this handsome demon didn't seem to want that sort of thing.

At least, that's what you assumed based on your interaction so far.

For the demon acted like a normal and ordinary demon, an equal to you even.

And not just that - he's been sweet and considerate the entire time too!

Not to mention you never got just why were royals such a big deal.

So, your disinterest in the man's status was your genuine reaction, it was no act.

"Sure am,"

The stranger nodded in agreement with your words, a low grin decorating his flawless face.

And you couldn't help but feel this laid-back aura coming off him, he seemed like he had little to no care in the world.

And he gazed at you with soft eyes that welcomed you in despite how much you despised their colour.

Oh, and the way he looked at you...

It made you feel like he wasn't bothered by your lack of reaction or lack of appeal for the fact he was a hight class.

It actually felt like he appreciated it. And his next words seemed like a confirmation of that.

"but, you don't have to worry your pretty little head about it,"

He waved his hand dismissively before addressing you with a:

"my dear little any-colour-but-red enthusiast.".

And the way he's addressed you made you pause.

And as your eyes widened, you had to do a double take.

You needed to let the title he's given you fully sink in.

And oh, when it did, your entire being filled shame and embarrassment.

Because if you got it right, then the man's heard your one-sided chat with the flower!

That one embarrassing heart to heart conversation no one was supposed to hear...

"Wait-".

You muttered, feeling your face beginning to heat up.

"you... you heard me...?".

You asked, and you couldn't even say anything more.

You were so embarrassed!

If one could die from shame, you'd be found dead right on your spot at least twice.

And yet, a part of you still hoped the male wouldn't confirm your worries.

A part of you still believed the situation wasn't so bad.

But then all your hopes were shattered.

"Mhm, I sure did,"

The handsome stranger confirmed much to your dismay.

And you were internally screeching.

You were caught sharing your frustrations with a petite bloom.

Talk about awkward.

You were surprised the stranger didn't run from you.

Fuck, this embarrassing moment was gonna stay on your mind til you die.

Even on your death bed this moment would be in your head on repeat.

"Oh my fucking-".

You sputtered and buried your face into your hands.

And you couldn't stop the involuntary, annoyed groan at the situation.

"I... damn... I'm sorry you had to see that...".

You eventually managed to tell the stranger after getting the courage to face him again.

"I would swear to you thar I'm not as odd as I may look right now,"

You went on, despite not knowing why exactly.

You felt the need to explain yourself, make yourself look better.

But you couldn't really.

"but I, unfortunately, do shit like that pretty often,"

Followed your confession.

Being true was the key, right?

Maybe it'd help in your case? You didn't count on

it.

And yet, the friendly demon surprised you.

"That's quite alright,"

You heard him chuckle.

And just like you previously reassured him, now he was to reassure you.

"if anything, I think you're quite endearing.".

He reassured you, voice warm and sweet, just like his eyes and the look he was giving you were.

And you did feel a bit calmer after his words for sure, although you still couldn't get over the fact this man's heard everything.

After all, what you told the flower wasn't something you'd tell just anyone. Let alone to someone you didn't know at all.

But then, the male spoke up again.

"And, between you and me...".

He started, looking into your eyes.

And then, he said those words you've always wanted to hear.

"I agree with you, hell could use more colour.".

There it was. Those words no one's ever told you. Those words you've always craved to hear.

Someone was agreeing with you and sharing your frustrations.

It felt like a dream.

You needed to pinch yourself, just to be sure this was real.

Your ears weren't deceiving you, were they?

"You... you really think so?".

You asked the stranger, your voice low, words cautious.

You didn't want to risk anything.

Your thoughts were racing, you were all tense, and you almost held back your breath as you waited for the man's response.

The male was quiet for a bit, prolonging your nervousness.

But it didn't seem like it was deliberately to make you suffer.

Since his expression softened - his grin was less wide, less smug.

And his eyes held something in them that was hard to read.

It seemed like recognition or compassion...

And maybe if one looked close enough, they would see a hint of sadness and longing.

As if, long time ago, the man's lost something he cherished dearly.

You've never seen anyone look like that.

And maybe this was why you felt the stranger's words were true.

That he was sick of living in a world made of shades of red just like you were.

"Yes, I do,".

He nodded, melancholia taking over the demon's features.

"Losing the opportunity to witness all the colours life can carry is something I mourn over from time to time...".

He confessed to you as he stood straight again, hus stance no longer relaxed, and he gazed longingly at the turquoise rose.

"You know, when I'm in a certain mood...".

He added with a bit lighter tone and a soft smile sent your way.

As if he was trying to make his words seem more light-hearted and not bring the mood down.

His words made a few questions arise in your head.

He confessed to have known a world filled with colours, which would hint at him being a sinner.

But then again, he said he was a royal, so he couldn't be a sinner.

It was confusing, and you had several questions, but you didn't have it in you to ask.

Instead you remained silent, gaze fixating on those turquoise petals.

Yet, you didn't leave the stranger without a reaction.

It may have been daring, maybe even improper, to do this to a royal, but you felt it was the right thing to do.

And so, you gently placed a consoling hand on the man's arm.

And when the male looked at you with a surprised look, you offered a soft smile and eyes full of compassion.

A look to let him know he wasn't alone in this.

And that gesture seemed to mean a lot to the demon as he offered a light smile back, his eyes seeming more lively after your act.

And you two exchanged a gaze of understanding one another, both of you feeling seen.

And then, the two of you gazed back at the turquoise rose, both of you admiring it in silence.

But this time neither of you were alone. This time you both had someone there with you. Someone to share this special moment with.

This was a moment that meant more than any personal possessions - this moment meant everything.

Yet, getting to have everything at one moment doesn't necessarily mean you'll get to keep that everything.

Such moments were a matter of a few minutes, not a lifetime.

And the reminder of this simple truth, came in a form of a voice.

A female voice that awoke a sense of familiarity in you.

Yet, you could not remember where you've heard that voice before.

And and picturing the owner has proven to be even more hard - it was out of the question.

"Ah, there you are!".

A female voice rang through the empty museum halls.

The sound it carried was smooth and feminine, with elegance.

And it evoked a cozy feeling, if that even makes sense.

There was also this slight raspy quality to it, yet the voice was sweet.

Pleasant to the ears.

You and the handsome stranger both turned around.

And the sight you were met with - oh how to even describe it?

You almost found yourself doubting that you were still standing in hell.

Because you could've sworn you were literally seeing an angel.

The woman that approached was like a divine painting.

Her figure was well-endowed, with long and thin legs.

And her face was sharp and flawless, looking as if made up by angels.

As if to add to her beauty - she had blonde long hair.

And that hair draped over her body all the way to the floor.

Like a veil made of gold.

She truly looked like a being straight out of heaven.

And you would dare to say that she rivaled all the depictions of Eve you've heard of.

Though there was one thing ruining the divine image of hers.

And those were her horns.

Wine red, long and curled horns decorating her head.

"Lili!".

The blond male next to you perked up.

He eagerly waved the woman over, a wide smile on his face.

His sharp teeth exposed.

His entire person appeared to have completely livened up.

Contrary to how solemn he was with you just a few moments back.

"My one and only! Where have you been?".

He asked the woman.

Or well, Lili - as he's addressed her.

And he gazed at her with pure adoration, excitement written all over his face.

And the demon stepped forward with a fond look.

"I could've sworn you were by my side the whole time before- poof- and you were gone!".

The handsome demon went on.

His pace of speech was fast and energized.

And he was almost jumbling his words together in the process.

And with his gesticulation coming on strong, the male had a truly disorganized look to him.

He looked as if his thoughts and emotions were all over the place.

As if they were going millions of miles per second.

It was quite a wholesome sight to see.

The previously seemingly well-composed man turning into a little ball of energy?

Just because he laid his eyes on the much taller demoness?

That was a truly cute and wholesome moment, a heartwarming moment even, if you'd dare to say.

"But that's not what happened, Luci."

The demoness responded to the shorter demon.

Or well, Luci, if we're going by how he was addressed.

And the female chuckled warmly.

She didn't seem bothered by the male's antics.

Instead, they seemed to be something she adored and held dear.

And the look in her lilac eyes held nothing but devotion.

Matching the one in the red eyes of 'Luci'.

Then, at her response, the male demon looked confused.

"It's not?".

He questioned, to which 'Lili' shook her head, chuckling again.

And then came the following answer:

"No, not quite. It was actually you who wandered off.".

'Luci' seemed taken aback by the reply,.

And pointing to himself as he questioned further:

"Me?".

'Lili' then nodded softly.

The fond look never leaving her face.

"Are you- are you sure? I don't remember it happening like that...".

The blond male then mused, his brows furrowing.

And gripping his chin in thought, he puckered up his lips.

He seemed genuinely confused about the whole thing.

Which made him look quite silly.

Though you yourself, personally, found the look quite cute.

And 'Lili' probably shared your view on that matter.

Because she chuckled melodiously.

Which was a truly heavenly sound to your ears.

And as she did, she seemed to almost melt over the male.

"And how do you remember it, dear?".

She questioned, and her lilac eyes held a comforting feeling.

Like that one of summer evening.

When it's getting dark and everything is cooling down.

Getting to breathe and rest.

With a campfire nearby, a good chilly drink in hand.

And the sound of crickets in the background.

A warm, yet still cooling feeling.

"Well, first we were holding hands..."

'Luci' began to explain to his female companion.

And as if on cue, his strong gesticulation began anew.

And with that, he followed through with:

"Then we stopped by those Lust jewels - y'know, those Asmodeus used to wear before eventually donating them here,".

Then he paused for a moment.

He seemed to be trying to remember the rest of the details.

"Then, I noticed the signs about the new expositions...".

He added after a moment of silence.

A pause, and then eyes seemed to sparkle.

Almost as if he's made some sort of accomplishment.

He most likely managed to remember more details of what's happened.

At least, that's what you've guessed.

"Oh, yeah!".

The handsome male chirped eagerly.

And he almost jumped on his spot as he went ahead to fill in the rest of what's happened.

At least according to him:

"And then I go: Look, Lili! The sign here says the turquoise rose is on the upper floor! Come!".

He said, imitating, what you assumed, were his previous actions and words.

"And I rushed upstairs while leaving you by the Lust jewels.".

The demon finished casually as he smiled.

He seemed so proud of himself for remembering everything.

But then, his yellow eyes widened, everything apparently sinking in.

"Oohh, yeah... It really was me who wandered off,".

He muttered as an embarrassed and disappointed look took over his features.

"You were right, yeah...".

'Luci' admitted, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly all while 'Lili' had a knowing look.

It was that smug 'I told you so' look, but without the ill-will in it.

Instead the look held a playful feel.

A playful feel like that of a simple lovey-dovey banter.

A lovey-dovey banter with no hard feelings.

"Oh, Lili- my love!".

The handsome male called dramatically.

And he took ahold of the taller demoness' hands, squeezing them.

"I have committed such shameful act! Can you ever forgive me, my queen?".

He asked in such a over exaggerated, over dramatic voice.

And he looked a few seconds away from dropping to his knees.

Possibly to loudly and unnecessarily plead for forgiveness.

But that wasn't all yet, because 'Luci' added to the scene.

'Luci' began planting soft kisses onto the female's hands.

Yeah, that wasn't really a scene you'd care to watch.

Talk about uncomfortable.

You just had to look away from the two.

And not only was the scene unpleasant to witness.

But you also didn't want to be seen as some kind of perverted freak.

Like, being caught watching this sort of scene?

Yeah, that wasn't on your bucket list.

And so, you directed your focus back on the turquoise rose.

You wanted to give the two the privacy they probably should have.

And surprisingly, it wasn't as hard to tune the two out.

If you focused on the little bloom hard enough, that is.

You were only brought back to the conversation when you heard yourself being mentioned.

"And who's your friend, Lulu?".

The blonde female asked as her gaze met yours.

Her lilac eyes flashed red for a moment and the shade made you really uncomfortable.

It made you want to shrink, if not straight up run away.

And it was hard to tell if you felt that way because of how much you hated the colour red.

Or if it was because the woman's gaze was suddenly so strict and intimidating.

She seemed to be sizing you up, analyzing, judging...

But before you could muster up the courage to introduce yourself, 'Luci' did it for you.

Or well, he attempted to do so.

"Oh! That! That's...".

He eagerly attempted to introduce you.

Motioning to you with his hand as he grinned wide.

But when the blond male realized he actually didn't know your name, he let his hand drop back to his side.

And he chuckled awkwardly.

"I actually have no idea!".

He chuckled awkwardly, making you feel somewhat more nervous.

The way 'Lili' studied you left you quite uneasy and all tense, you were a little panicked.

Because suddenly a thought came to your head.

What if the woman could see you as some sort of homewrecker?

As someone trying to get with the male she so obviously dated?

That thought caused a tight feeling in your chest.

You found it hard to breathe.

And 'Luci' wasn't making it much better, despite not having any ill intent.

At least you hope he didn't.

"I guess we just got a little lost in our conversation,".

The male said.

He sounded much more casual with this statement.

And he fixed his hat a little.

"Isn't that right, my any-colour-but-red enthusiast?".

'Luci' addressed you with a grin.

Pulling you into the conversation without giving you any time to prepare.

Yeah, he wasn't making this situation any easier to handle.

And not having expected to be involved in the chat, your mind went all blank.

You had not anticipated that.

You were not prepared for this scenario.

So, the only reaction you could come up with was an awkward smile.

An awkward smile and a quick nod sent towards the tall female.

You really hoped that if 'Lili' was reading between the lines, she'd see it really was just an innocent interaction.

An innocent interaction and nothing more.

"Ah, I see... how sweet".

'Lili' hummed.

Unbothered, unphased - that's how you'd describe her.

She seemed so well-composed and proper in every way.

Even all of her movements were just so elegant and correct.

If that makes sense.

Natural - that's another words you'd use for the female.

All her responses seemed just so natural and right.

Especially compared to you.

Yeah, nothing about her said 'socially awkward', unlike how it was in your case.

And, as if that wasn't enough - she was also truly hard to read.

You couldn't tell what she was thinking, she was unpredictable.

She could be planning on tearing you apart and you'd never be able to tell!

And that made the demoness so much more intimidating to you.

Especially considering you had a feeling that, unlike you, she could read you perfectly.

That, or she could be potentially misreading you - that would definitely make things worse.

"And I take it your little chat must've been quite entertaining if you've managed to hold my dear husband's attention for so long,"

The blonde's lilac gaze bore into yours once again.

Her long eyelashes gave her eyes a thin and sharp look.

They were like two black, massive folded fans.

You couldn't tell if they were natural lashes or false ones.

Anyways, her words were followed by a smirk - one that made you feel unsafe.

Predatory, dangerous - that was the air her smirk carried.

And you felt like you were about to fall prey to the demoness.

Like you were going to meet the same fate a little mouse meets at the claws of a cat.

Even the female's pupils seemed to be cat-like slits, as if to only add to that feeling.

And you were so sure that 'Lili' would've pounced on you.

If only 'Luci' didn't chime in.

"Hey! My attention span isn't so bad!".

The male demon called, hands on his hips as he looked quite offended.

Yet, he smiled playfully afterwards.

So, it was safe to assume that he wasn't truly as insulted as it may have seemed.

And another argument for that claim would be the man's next actions.

For his body took a much more relaxed stance, and he added:

"But yeah, yeah, it was a good chat,".

And he then simply fixed his hat a little as it previously nearly slipped off his head when he so intensely perked up at his wife's little jab at his person.

But shortly just after fixing his hat, the demon perked up again.

Almost sending his hat flying off his head once more.

"because-".

'Luci' jumped up.

He seemed to have recalled the exact context of the chat he had with you a few moments ago.

And suddenly, he no longer looked relaxed or casual.

Instead, in an blink of an eye, his calm demeanor switched up for a much more energetic one.

He acted like a little ball of energy once again.

"you won't believe it, Lili- but this little imp actually shares our passion!".

The blond male said with a wide grin.

And he started gesticulating strongly again.

Almost as if he was practitioning pantomime.

He seemed just so eager to share this with his female companion.

And he spoke so fast and excitedly that he almost struggled to breathe.

But after a long and deep breath, 'Luci' managed to sputter out the rest:

"They also think hell could use more colours! Isn't that- isn't that awesome, Lili??".

And at the mention of your desire to see more colours in hell 'Lili's eyes seemed to spark with interest.

"Oh, you don't say.".

She mused.

Her thin fingers grazed her face for a second, her eyebrows raising up a little.

And her expression softened.

Then, another light smirk appeared on her face.

But imposing isn't a word you'd call that smirk she wore.

This certain smirk was different than the previous ones.

This one seemed much safer, and almost friendly.

And 'Lili' had something more lively about her as she said:

"Well then, it seems we'll get along just perfect,".

And with those words, the blonde demoness took a step towards you.

"May I ask for your name? I'm sure that'd be much preferable than being referred to as any-colour-but-red enthusiast.".

The female told you with a short, yet warm chuckle.

And a hand casually rested on her curvy side.

Most of the intimidating demeanor she previously had seemed gone.

She seemed to have eased up.

Which gave her a more approachable feel.

And thanks to that, you yourself felt much more at ease being in the woman's presence.

So, it wasn't as difficult to muster up the courage to speak as it was before.

"Oh- y-yeah... I'd much rather be called by my name, yeah, that'd be much better, totally,".

You chuckled awkwardly.

And nodding your head with a light smile, you rubbed at the back of your neck.

You were rambling a little too.

You still felt a bit of unease.

But that was to be expected.

Considering you've not had this much of genuine social interaction in years.

But, 'Lili' didn't seem to mind.

She just looked at you with almost a motherly, compassionate look.

And she waited for you to introduce yourself with patience.

"Oh- damn- I'm rambling again, sorry,".

You said nervously after a short pause when you were processing your own actions.

And you almost started rambling anew before you caught yourself going that direction.

And you stopped yourself.

You needed to compose yourself.

You didn't want to drive her away by your social incompetence.

"Ahem, anyways, yeah, my name... I'm (Y/N),".

You finally introduced yourself.

And proud of your accomplishment, your inner self did a little victory dance.

Then, remembering how social interactions work, you added in:

"It's really a pleasure to meet you.".

You nodded with a smile before perking up and quickly saying:

"Ah- erm- both of you,".

And you sent a timid smile towards 'Luci', wanting to acknowledge him as well.

You didn't want for him to feel left out.

Your gesture seemed to be appreciated as the blond male smiled right back.

But instead of 'Luci' speaking up, it was his wife to follow though with the conversation.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well.".

'Lili's voice pulled your gaze right back at her figure.

And your full focus was on her once again.

"Truly it is, (Y/N).".

The demoness added in, nodding her head as if to confirm her statement.

After that, another smile formed on her lips, and she had this slightly amused look to her.

"Now, normally I would suppose that there's no introduction needed on our part,".

She mused, a hand resting on her chest while she leaned over a little, towering over you.

Her tall frame casted a bit of a shadow over you, making you feel much smaller than you actually were.

And she got so close that you could smell her expensive perfume.

But that was the least thing you needed to focus on.

You needed to listen to her words - which you forced yourself to do.

"but judging by this entire interaction, I would say you have absolutely no idea who we are,".

You heard 'Lili' say as your focus was back on the context of her words.

And her entire person was once again imposing as she finished her sentence.

She was wearing a light, entertained grin - one that exposed her pearly white fangs.

And despite her grin being quite pronounced, it did not take off her elegance.

If anything, it only made her more heavenly gorgeous.

And showing those pointed teeth some more, she asked:

"Am I correct in that assumption?".

With that question, she raised an eyebrow.

Her expression wasn't confused as one might have assumed, though.

No, the demoness seemed to already know your answer.

And that knowing look she wore only further confirmed that claim.

Perhaps you were right when you assumed 'Lili' could easily read you.

That realization alone made your eyes widen, and you sputtered:

"Oh- y-yeah- that would be right.".

You nodded your head with an awkward smile, feeling both nervous and embarrassed.

And your nervousness was, of course, affecting you, as you rambled a little just like you previously did:

"Yeah, I have no idea who you two are... I don't do politics and famous people... buuuut, you're... probably someone... important...?".

At your guess, both 'Lili' and 'Luci' chuckled, and they exchanged a glance.

"Oh dear, you have no idea,".

The blonde demoness stated as another soft chuckle left her lips.

Then she covered her lips with her fingers for a few seconds, looking amused.

And the way 'Lili' and 'Luci' were gazing at you left you unable to do anything other than smile awkwardly.

Their gazes were hard to describe, but you felt preyed upon.

Just like you previously felt with the women at the start.

Except it felt a bit different in a way you couldn't quite describe.

Not to mention that this time 'Luci' was a part of it.

The male demon's even gotten closer to you just like his wife did a while ago.

"They're precious, aren't they, Lili?".

'Luci' suggested as he stepped forward.

His gaze was focused on you, and he was giving a sharp toothed grin.

A grin that called for you - begged you - to read between the lines.

But that could be just your imp nature speaking, right?

After all, imps were used to being the prey to other demons.

So it made sense for you to be alert around other demon species, right?

Well, even then, the answer 'Lili' gave to 'Luci's question didn't help you feel safer.

"Quite so, Luci,".

'Lili' mused as her gaze trailed over your whole person.

She was looking you up and down with predatory eyes - like a snake looking at a little mouse.

Her gaze was unnerving, and the female didn't seem to bother with doing that action subtly either.

As if she felt no shame in doing so.

Almost as if she wanted for you to be aware of what she was doing.

And as if that wasn't alarming enough, 'Lili's gaze then trailed off towards 'Luci'.

The two looked at each other, exchanging a certain gaze.

You couldn't tell what kind of gaze it was exactly, but it made you feel so much more preyed upon.

It appeared as if the two were wordlessly agreeing on something, plotting even.

And you didn't like that one bit.

But before you could even think to perhaps run off, the couple directed their attention back at you.

"Well, dear (Y/N)... It seems an introduction is in order,".

'Lili' then told you in a smooth voice as she once agai leaned over you in one elegant movement.

Meanwhile 'Luci' stood aside, watching the further interaction with an eager grin.

"Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Lilith,".

The blonde demoness introduced herself, a hand on her chest.

Then, she motioned to the male beside her with her hand.

And the demon in question stepped forward, placing his hand into the female's palm.

"And this is my husband, Lucifer.".

Lilith introduced the male, making you pause.

You needed a moment to do a quick double take on that information.

But before you could even questioned anything, the mentioned male spoke:

"Lucifer Morningstar. It's a pleasure to officially meet you, (Y/N).".

And with those words, the world suddenly seemed to stop and freeze in time.

Your mouth and throat went completely dry, and your pulse seemed to halt.

The room seemed to begin to spin, your body breaking into cold sweat.

And all you could hear was loud and painful ringing in your ears.

This couldn't be real.

"W-wait...".

You attempted to speak, your eyes wide.

You wanted to say something - anything!

But your brain seemed to have crashed and gone blank.

You were unable to formulate a single simple sentence.

You were at loss for words.

And at loss for breath too it seemed.

Your throat was all closed up, and all you could give was a pathetic little gasp for air.

"Oh? Oh? What is it, dear?"

Lucifer looked entertained - and it was the same for Lilith.

The pair watched you do a bit of your mental gymnastics with amused gazes.

Both were grinning.

Seemingly finding some kind of joy in you finally realizing just who you were dealing with.

"Do those names... I don't know... maybe ring a bell?".

Lucifer asked you in a sweet and seemingly well-meaning, yet still condescending voice.

He sounded playful, as if this was just some kind of a game.

But when the demon got no response from you, he grinned wide and turned to his wife:

"Why, Lili, I have a feeling those names do ring a bell to them,".

And Lilith, seemingly equally as amused, nodded along:

"Yes, it certainly seems like it, Lulu,".

You had absolutely no idea as to what to do in this situation.

Your brain was way too overloaded to figure out a possible solution for this.

Thinking was out of the question, so was talking yourself out of this situation.

You were so fucked.

And so, acting on default, you dropped to your knees, hands in a praying position, attempting to ask for forgiveness.

You didn't dare look at the two, your eyes being directed to the ground as your entire body trembled.

And you pitifully tried to verbally ask for forgiveness of the pair too.

But all you could force out were just pathetic little noises and sputters of nonsense.

"Now, that's quite a bit of an extreme reaction, don't you think?".

Lucifer mused all so casually, sounding unbothered by the display.

And Lilith matched the casual, unphased voice tone, saying:

"Come now, get off the floor, dear. The ground is way too dirty for you to be sprawling all over it like that,".

After that, Lucifer chimed in again, following through with:

"Yeah, and you might want to wipe off those tears as well, they're a bit too dramatic,".

Their words and reaction confused you so, and made you pause.

You didn't know what was going on - you've not expected this.

They were supposed to tear you apart, weren't they?

Because you didn't recognize them and talked to them so casually, right?

Well, not even Lucifer's next words made that any clearer.

In fact, you actually ended up feeling even more confused then.

"And I gotta ask: is your memory not working well?".

Lucifer asked, and a hint of disappointment lingered in the air.

You didn't understand his words, or his voice tone.

Both only made more questions arise.

And you cautiously looked up to him,

"wha- what?".

You muttered, voice barely loud enough to be heard.

You felt almost afraid to question what Lucifer's said.

You just can't help yourself but be fearful of the male.

Even if he's been nothing but pleasant to you the whole time.

But, could anyone even really blame you for your unease and fear?

He was the literal Devil, and you've treated him like an equal.

There was no way that Lucifer wasn't insulted or upset over this.

"I mean, I told you I'm not one of those royals who lose it if one doesn't recognize them, no?".

Well, it turned out your assumptions were all wrong.

These words that Lucifer's said have proven you wrong.

He didn't seem upset whatsoever, and his words confirmed that.

Sure, he sounded just a little disappointed with you in a way.

But he was not upset, which definitely was a relief.

However, you still had yet to properly calm down and relax.

"Y-yeah... you did...".

Was all you've managed to clumsily force out.

And your voice tone sounded just a little surprised.

That was because you've experienced a bit of a realization.

Truth be told, you've completely forgotten about your previous conversation.

You've forgotten just what kind of a royal Lucifer told you he was.

And when you remembered the male's previous words, your eyes widened a little.

Yet, your mind didn't feel any clearer, you still felt the same.

So, saying anything more was a task you could not achieve.

But, the devil went on with the conversation anyways.

"Then what's up with that reaction?".

He questioned you, an eyebrow raised.

He sounded almost judgemental at that certain moment.

He even looked the part - an unimpressed gaze, a hand on his hip.

Yet, somehow, there was still no feeling of ill-will to him.

Still, it wasn't any easier for you to think of what to say.

"I- I... well... y-you see...".

You clumsily attempted to explain yourself.

But a weak little mutter was all that you could give.

You couldn't say anything more, your brain felt too empty.

Everything that's happened just left you with a clouded mind.

And your thoughts and emotions were all over the place.

So, a soft mutter and a distressed whimper was the best you could do.

But Lucifer didn't seem to mind that, not even in the slightest.

"Nah, I'm just pulling your leg!".

He called with a hearty chuckle.

And he dismissively waved his hand as he added:

"I totally get the whole dropping to your knees thing!".

"I mean, we're literally the rulers of hell, so it makes complete sense for you to act this way,".

The blonde male went on and on.

He seemed to be having a good laugh at all of this.

And he gesticulated and spoke all enthusiastically.

But you didn't really catch any of what was being said.

Your brain was way too overloaded to be able to do so.

And the longer Lucifer spoke, the worse you began to feel.

Much to your relief though, Lilith finally chimed in once again.

"Luci, I think you're completely overwhelming the poor thing,".

The queen of hell noted.

She sounded a little amused just like the male was.

Yet, there was a clear hint of concern in the way she spoke.

"Oh, am I?".

The king of hell paused.

Finally, he took a moment to take in your state.

And when he did, he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and mused:

"Yeah... I think I am,".

After Lucifer noted that, Lilith focused and spoke directly to you.

"We apologize, (Y/N).".

She started in a gentle tone.

And her expression was not as amused anymore.

At that certain moment, she seemed almost apologetic.

But not too much.

"It's just that it's not often someone doesn't recognize us, and we couldn't help ourselves,".

The demoness explained.

And you could've sworn her eyes held genuine concern in them.

Although her overall stance didn't really change much.

The tall blonde was still perfectly well-composed.

And she still appeared mostly unphased.

Then she finished her speech with:

"all was meant in good fun,".

At that final explanation, you paused.

Your racing thoughts came to a full stop.

And processing Lilith's words, you said cautiously:

"S- so we're... all good?".

Your words came out slow and soft.

And you were careful with your wording too.

You were kind of testing the waters in a sense.

The two rulers of hell kept surprising you.

They were continuously proving to not be a threat to you.

Yet one could never be fully sure - especially not in Hell.

And especially not as mere little imp.

Your question was met with a warm smile from Lilith.

And she nodded to your words, confirming them.

"Yes, we're all good".

She confirmed.

Relief washed over you then.

And you made sure to voice that.

"Oh- holy shi- I'm so relieved!".

You breathed.

And only then did you get off the ground.

"Fuuuuck,".

You gave a breathy chuckle.

And you wiped some metaphorical sweat off your forehead.

You felt on cloud nine - as if you've escaped death.

So, you couldn't really control your vocabulary at the moment.

Not like it mattered anyways.

"For- for a moment I thought-".

You stumbled over your words a little.

This entire thing felt just so unreal.

You were overwhelmed again.

But this time not exactly overwhelmed in a bad way.

"For a moment I thought it'd be off with my head or something!".

You admitted.

And you gripped your head.

You needed a moment to fully process everything.

"Whaaat? No! No, we'd never do that!".

Lucifer called, pulling your focus back to himself and his wife.

He looked and sounded astounded.

As if not grasping just where you got that idea from.

But then he paused, and he gripped his chin in thought.

"I mean, we probably did that at some point, centuries and centuries ago...".

He thought out loud.

And that made your eyes widen a little.

You couldn't tell of he was just kidding around again or not.

And you almost felt your unease returning.

But then came the following exchange.

"Or did that happen only in a dream...?".

The Devil mused, confused and uncertain.

To which Lilith shushed him gently yet disapprovingly:

"Lulu, you're not helping,".

That was all she said.

She didn't deny or confirm anything.

And Lucifer perked up just then.

"Oh- yeah, right... that was a little beside the point I was trying to make...".

Lucifer admitted awkwardly.

He even gave a slight apologetic look for a quick moment.

But that expression of his was pretty much short lived.

Since then he relaxed and offered a friendly smile.

"Sorry, dear (Y/N), I tend to trail off sometimes.".

He told you, voice calm and pleasant.

And his words were even accompanied by a low chuckle.

"I can confirm that,".

Lilith voiced in, her tone just as pleasant, as well as humorous.

The mood in the room suddenly felt much better.

It felt easier to just be in the moment.

Lilith's little jab at Lucifer's expense made the male give a playful glare.

And to that, the demoness offered a playful smirk back.

Then, the blond male spoke again.

"Anyhow, I think we should properly apologize for how we...".

Lucifer trailed off.

Seemingly trying to find the right term to use.

"had fun at your expense?".

Lilith filled the rest in.

Helping her lover name what they did correctly.

And the male nodded in agreement:

"Yeah... that'd be the word,".

Then, Lucifer added:

"So, what can we do to apologize?".

The words of the pair had you astonished.

After all, they did give you a verbal apology already.

So, you'd just assume the situation was over.

It wasn't like you wanted anything more from them anyways.

After all, getting an apology out of someone as an imp was near to impossible.

And having someone want to do a selfless act to undo their wrongdoing?

That was twice as impossible.

No one really cared for imps.

Nor did they really see them as equals.

And yet, here were the two highest ranking demons in all of hell.

Both of them treating you fair and with respect.

You were so beneath them.

Yet they treated you more kindly than your own kin.

And maybe even more kindly than you treated yourself.

"Oh- no, no, that's completely alright!".

You dismissed the pair's offer.

You really weren't used to such treatment.

And you almost felt bad if you were to accept.

"No real harm was done! All's good!".

You went on.

You really didn't want for these two to burden themselves for your sake.

Honestly, it felt a little wrong.

However, your dismissiveness got matched.

Lilith and Lucifer weren't accepting of you waving it all off.

"No, no, we insist!".

Lucifer cut your efforts off.

And he matched your own voice tone.

Dismissive and insistent, and also a bit loud.

"Truly, we insist.".

Lilith nodded along, not letting you speak.

"After all, words are just so cheap - actions speak much louder".

She persuaded some more.

And the Devil was there to her aid, saying:

"So, even if we shall do just a simple act like buying you coffee... We insist,".

Of course, your first instinct was to keep declining.

Yet, something in you had you pause and think.

This was an opportunity like no other.

For you seemed to get along well with the two so far.

And the pair seemed to understand you like no one else.

After all, the two shared your view on Pride needing more colour.

Who knew if you didn't have more things in common?

And perhaps this was the moment you've always been waiting for.

Did you really want to sabotage yourself and throw it all away?

The answer was no.

No, you didn't.

And so, with a bit of hesitation, you stated:

"I guess... that coffee does sound good?".

And with your sheepish smile and answer the deal was sealed.

Because the king and queen both grinned.

"Good, I'm sure we'll have a lot to talk about,".

Lilith hummed.

She sounded pleased.

"And we'll start with why Pride needs more colour".

Lucifer added in.

And he gave a playful wink.

Then, his red eyes met yours for a moment.

And the Devil smiled at you before calling eagerly:

"Off to a cafe we go!".

And with that, the male rushed towards the museum exit.

He seemed to completely forget about you and Lilith.

"You'll get used to it,".

Lilith told you with a smile.

And as her lilac gaze met yours, her eyes flashed red again.

But this time her red eyes didn't intimidate you.

You two then went ahead to follow Lucifer.

And on your way out of the museum, you had just one thought.

That being:

That now you couldn't really hate the colour of red as much as you used to.

___________________________________________

[thatstoomanysausages]

I know it’s pride month but gaddamn 😟(Tomodachi Life):

- the aha-husbands have had a fight guys 😔

- I walked in on Skizz, Scar and Grian all doing yoga together🔥 the squeaking of their joints is very promising

- I’m making all of Skizz’s phrases “hey budday ;)”

- The phrases are hard to think of okay

- I have given Mumbo three fuckinf piece of clothing and he’s hated them all

- He can solve this argument himself, the bitch

- Reject my gifts

- And he’s asleep.

- JOE PLAYING MATCH MAKER

- “I THINK SCAR NEEDS A SPECIAL SOMEONE

- HOW ABOUT GRIAN”

- JOE I FUCKINF LOVE YOU

- SCARIAN WNDGAME PLEASEEEEE

- Joe watching through the windows is so unserious

- “Let’s go out again sometime” YEHAHHHHHHHHHH

- OH MY GODDDDDDDDDD

- Patience is a fuckinf virtue people

- It’s canon

- Scar is officially marked as Grian’s special someone

- Let’s hope to god nothing goes WRONG

- Never been so shaky making sure I save the last few minutes of playing

- So far the only canon couple that has a high rating on compatibility is Ren and Pearl (84%)

- Jimmy and Joel are staying at a solid 59% and Grian and Scar at 64%😭😭

- Joel’s hair is now fucking green

- He literally asked me

- It’s not my fault he looks like a bellend now

- They’re gonna propose soon I know it and I’ll be shitting myself👍

- GUYS SKIZZ AND TANGO ARE BESTIES YEAHHHHHHHH CANONNNNNN🔥🔥🔥

- Me and Grian are playing a matching game and Mumbo’s face came up and Grian just went “seeing Mumbo’s face really put me off” 😭😭😭 PLEASEEEE

- Grian got a letter from someone to meet them on the roof😭😭

- It’s scar😭😭 “you’re not the person I wanted to see so you can go” HUHHH WHAT IS GOING ON

- Wait he had brown eyes I have no idea who that was

- They might have been green I have no idea😭 so many of them have the same hair and looks man

- I’m gonna make poultry man next

- Scar and BigB friendship💪💪

- Have I mentioned Scar and Martyn are besties I think I have but yeah🔥

- REN HAS LOVE ISSUES

- YOURE MARRIED MAN EHATS HAPPENJNG

- A CHILD

- GUUS

- GUYS

- GHYS

- BABY

- GE WANTS TO HAVE A CHILD

- WITH PEARL

- AURGHHHH😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

- Impulse has yellow hair now

- French fry lookijg bitch💔💔