#the last one was a monster soo

[transgendercastiel]

monsters vs aliens community au…

[ckret2]

Chapter 49 of human Bill Cipher being such a miserable prisoner even the Pines are starting to feel bad for him: The Eclipse: Epilogue.

####

"The heck did you do to that poor woman?" Tate asked, staring out the window. Bill was sitting on the pier, legs dangling in the water, staring blankly into the depths. He was still muddy and trembling. "She looks more traumatized than when y'all left."

Ford couldn't meet Tate's gaze under the brim of his hat, but he could feel Tate raising a brow when he spotted Dipper pacing back and forth on the pier behind Bill, muttering furiously.

"We've had a very bad day," Ford said. 

"Uh-huh."

"Could I borrow your phone to call my brother?"

Outside, Dipper was oblivious to everything except the one line he'd managed to remember from the Axolotl, the words he'd picked out as they crossed the lake. "'Sixty degrees that come in threes,'" Dipper murmured. He knew that much. It was a poem. It was a rhyme. He couldn't remember the rest. What did it mean? He murmured it over and over to himself as he walked, trying to remember the next line, "'Sixty degrees that come in threes,' 'sixty degrees that come in threes'... breeze, freeze, ease, lease, knees—" He couldn't remember the rhyme.

Bill was considering grabbing Dipper by the ankle and dragging him off the pier just to shut him up when whatsisname, the younger McGucket came out of the shop. "Hello there? Miss Goldie?"

Human. Strange human. Human that Bill could get on his side. Be charming. He tried to remember how to be charming. He offered a feeble smile. "Yello?"

"I wanted to make sure you're all right," Tate said. "You look like you, uh... you've had a hard time."

Bill laughed ruefully. "Well, I've been dragged all over the mountain, I'm hungry, exhausted, and half-drowned, and I can barely walk—but I'm not currently dead. Allegedly. I'll take what I can get."

The corners of Tate's mouth twitched down in a concerned frown. "Is there anything you need? A..." He floundered for a moment, "A water, or...?"

"I've had enough water to last me a lifetime." He wondered idly whether he could claim he was too exhausted to make it all the way home—there was a sofa in the staff room, Tate would probably let the poor bedraggled "woman" take a nap, if Bill got that bit of distance between himself and the Pines maybe he could... maybe he could... do something with it? But he couldn't think of anything more definite than that and now Ford was coming back and the window of opportunity closed. He shrugged wearily. "Just need to get back to the shack. Thanks." He half heartedly used the lake water to wash the drying mud off his lower legs and knees.

"Stan will be here in about twenty minutes," Ford said, and tried to ignore the dirty look Tate gave him. 

"I'll be just inside if you need anything else," Tate said. "Watching." He headed inside—and then, indeed, stood at the shop window and watched.

Ford was never going to get on Tate's good side. He suspected Tate would be a little less sympathetic to the poor woman on the pier if he knew who he really was; but it certainly wouldn't make Tate like Ford any better for keeping him around.

"Nothing to do now but wait." Ford unloaded the rest of their supplies from the borrowed motor boat. He dropped Soos's Monster-Mon backpack beside Bill—it was heavy, Bill must have just shoved his clothes and bedsheet straight in without bothering to wring out the water—and the plastic bag of snacks Dipper had bought. "You ought to eat more while we wait." Ford nudged the snack bag.

Bill sneered at it. "I don't want that trash."

"What?" Ford examined the bag's contents. Jerky, chips, candy, cups of marshmallow cereal... "This is ninety percent of what you eat."

"Ninety percent of what I eat is what I can scavenge from the counters."

Ford looked through the bag again. Ah. Right. So it was. "If you want something else, you know you can ask us to..."

"Mac and cheese."

Maybe Ford had better stop talking. He sighed and glanced at Dipper to see how he was doing.

It didn't look like Dipper had even registered Ford's return, too busy pacing and muttering to himself. Ford frowned. "Dipper?"

"Axolotl," Bill explained. "He's obsessing over him. Didn't I tell you that meeting that thing would drive him insane?" He tilted his head toward Dipper. "Look at that, he's already mumbling to himself. Don't suppose you have his therapist's number, do you? I doubt that would save him, but it might slow the process—"

Ford shushed him.

Dipper had briefly tuned back into the conversation when he heard Bill say Axolotl; and now he grit his teeth and stubbornly tuned it back out. No. He was not going insane. Dipper would figure this out. If he just remembered the rest he'd be fine. He tried to go through all the potential rhymes alphabetically, "—bees, cease, d—deez?" That wasn't a word. "Fees, geese, he's..." and on and on, "seas, tees, uh... vees? Wheeze..."

"I've had enough of you trying to convince that boy he's about to go mad," Ford muttered to Bill. "What do you get out of saying that? Even if you do convince him he's insane, it won't make him start trusting anything else you say."

"I'm not lying," Bill said heatedly. "You ought to know that, you've been in the multiverse, you've seen plenty of maddening sights. You saw them before you even left the Nightmare Realm."

Ford hesitated before responding; was Bill trying to persuade Ford he was insane? But he could still remember those first few moments of terror in the Nightmare Realm: the creatures that had seemed to move and shift in impossible ways as they swam in and out of dimensions Ford couldn't see, the lights and colors that throbbed like an inverted migraine, Bill himself seemingly suspended a million light years away and a foot in front of Ford's face at the same time. Until Ford had latched onto his quest to destroy Bill and let that focus him, his mind had felt like an unraveling sock. "You were chief among those maddening sights."

"I was," Bill acknowledged neutrally.

"But I didn't go insane."

"Because you knew when to look away." He cast a sideways glance at Dipper, an implicit unlike him. "I know you used to read cosmic horror. Do you know why the narrator always goes mad just from looking at some giant beast? It's not because it's too ugly to take. It's because once you meet something, you try to understand it; but if you want to understand the reality something like that comes from," he rolled an eye up toward where the invisible Axolotl had hung in the sky, "you have to lose your understanding of your own reality. They're incompatible. Like the lunatics who escaped Plato's cave and came back ranting about nonsense like sunlight and colors."

It was a twisted interpretation of the cave allegory. Plato had meant it as a metaphor for education: that learning about the true nature of reality was enlightening, but alienated you from your peers.

Perhaps to Bill, enlightenment and insanity were the same thing.

Ford murmured, "Once your eyes have been too dazzled by the sunlight to see the dim shadows, you'll never be awed by a candle again."

"You have been there before."

Ford didn't answer.

"Once you've seen something like that, if you let yourself dwell on the significance of it all, you're doomed. Better to tell yourself it's unimportant and try to forget it ever happened."

Ford thought of Fiddleford.

Bill twisted around to snap tiredly at Dipper, "So stop staring at the sun before you go blind, moron."

"Shut up." Dipper had been trying to mentally drown out Bill's dire predictions by grasping for more rhymes—"disease, unease, Socrates"—but enough filtered through to make his stomach churn with nervousness. What if Bill was right? What if he never remembered what the Axolotl told him—what if he drove himself mad trying? What if this turned into a lifelong obsession—but he'd be fine and could let it go once he remembered—was that the trap? Was whatever it had told him impossible for a human to remember? Was it something so incomprehensible a human couldn't remember it without going crazy?

But he'd seen plenty of stuff last summer that was supposed to make humans go "insane." Bill had to be messing with him. He remembered the first line—surely that meant he could remember the rest—but was that part of the trap? "'Sixty degrees that come in threes'... come on, there's something else, I know it, what is it? 'Sixty degrees that come in threes'—"

Bill sighed irritably. "'Watches through the eyes in trees.'"

Dipper stopped pacing. He hadn't realized he'd raised his voice enough to be audible. "What?"

"What?" Bill said.

"What's the rest of it?"

"What rest of it? It's a couplet. That's all," Bill said. "Is that what he told you? He gets rhymey when he feels self-important, it's no big deal. Maybe you're lucky. Put it out of your head and you'll be fine."

Dipper turned the words over in his head. Sixty degrees that come in threes, watches through the eyes in trees... "That's not exactly right," he said slowly. "It was 'watches from within birch trees.'"

"Is that how he translated it? I've never heard it in English before. I got close, though, I knew it'd rhyme."

Ford echoed, "'Sixty degrees that come in threes.' Like a triangle?"

Dipper gave him a perplexed look. "What?"

"You're taking geometry next year, aren't you? The inner angles of polygons always have the same number of degrees; and a triangle has a hundred and eighty degrees. Three angles of sixty degrees forms... an equilateral triangle."

Dipper and Ford stared at Bill.

Bill gave them a tired, unreadable look. "What?" he said. "Don't look at me. I'm not the only equilateral triangle in the universe."

Well, now Dipper was sure there was more to the poem than just a couplet. "How many other equilateral triangles spy on people through birch trees?"

"Lay off," Bill said crabbily. "I didn't have to tell you that line. Don't make me regret it." He planted his elbows on his knees, laced his hands together, pressed his forehead to them, and massaged his eyelids with his thumbs.

He tilted slightly to the right, keeping the weight of his head off his left arm.

####

"Nice shirt," Stan said, eyeing Ford's anger management t-shirt.

"If you like it, you can have it."

"What happened to your coat?"

"Somewhere at the bottom of the lake," Ford sighed.

"How...?"

"I'll fill you in later."

Bill's trembling was almost unnoticeable by the time Stan arrived. Or, at least, it was slight enough that he could stand and make the short walk from the pier to the car without an obvious struggle. 

He climbed into the back seat, slid across the bench, leaned against the door, wrapped his arms around his Monster-Mon backpack, fell asleep, and didn't wake up for the entire drive home.

Dipper and Ford fell silent when they noticed; and, sensing the heavy atmosphere, Stan followed suit.

####

The event organizers for Higher Dimensional Gate had arranged for the Magister Mentium's audience to surround him in a circle with as large a circumference as possible, so that as many shapes as possible could pack into the first few rows where they could see him. Even so, the crowd was much too large for everyone to be in the first few rows. Speakers had to be planted throughout the crowd so that they'd all be able to hear the Magister speak. Most of his audience couldn't see him.

But he, with his all-seeing eye, could see all of them.

The crowd extended back, row after row after row, in every direction like flecks of multicolor confetti filling the air all the way to the horizon. He'd never spoken to such a large crowd before. He didn't think he'd ever seen such a large crowd before.

Not all of them were his worshipers. He didn't have that many worshipers. The rest were drawn in by his boast—to be the first shape outside of legends to predict an eclipse, over six months ahead of schedule. They were here for a spectacle. He meant to give them one.

If he succeeded, all these spectators would become his worshipers, he was sure of it. If he didn't succeed, he lost everything. The whole nation knew about his bet. He'd be financially ruined. His worshipers would abandon him. There would be no fleeing to a new town and starting over; everyone everywhere knew who he was. His life would be over.

This would be only the third eclipse he could recall. There's no way to neatly map shape ages onto human ages. Different year lengths, different aging speeds, different mental and physical milestones. But approximately, compared to a human, he was scarcely over fifteen years old. 

But he wouldn't fail. He pushed all his fears aside. He didn't even want to think about them. He wouldn't, because he couldn't, because he could see what nobody else saw. He could see the eclipse's approach.

It was traveling across the vast empty gulf outside the world.

The only other third dimensional objects he'd ever seen were the sun—which looked to him like a circle—and the stars—which seemed to be mere points. He assumed all third dimensional objects were fundamentally just second dimensional objects, moving on a strange plane. He had no capacity to model a 3D object in his mind.

But the eclipse was a beast that twirled and gyrated around impossible axes, moving and rotating in ways his eye couldn't even comprehend. To him, it looked as though the living creature—he assumed it was a living creature, sometimes it manifested a couple of limbs or an eye—was constantly shapeshifting, its perimeter moving and altering. Its uncanny undulations had haunted his nightmares for months after he first watched it, so young he'd barely started school. It wasn't any less nightmarish now.

But as incomprehensible and terrifying as it was, he could see it, and nobody else here could, and that was all that mattered. He could watch it on the horizon and publicly announce that it would cross the sun in two weeks—and then in about three days—and then, to his humiliation, not tomorrow but today, guaranteed, as the creature sped up and threw off his estimate. His worshipers and bemused spectators had taken over the square to while away the time. They'd quickly gathered around him to wait after he'd declared it would arrive within the hour

That had been almost an hour and a half ago. The stupid thing had slowed down.

The triangle was terrified.

In every direction, shapes were staring at him. Waiting. His father was watching him—his stare seemed to grow heavier by the minute. He could see reporters in the crowd taking notes.

He had to fight not to pace, not to cringe, not to show any nerves in front of the hundreds of eyes.

Now. It had to be now. It was so close. Please don't let him be wrong. Every cord in his body quivered in terror as he grabbed his microphone and announced: "Lines, bis, tris—quads, quints, and more! My dear students and beloved believers, and my—" he cut off the urge to say something nastier, "—curious visitors, who I hope will join our quest for enlightenment. This is the moment you've been waiting for! The eclipse is upon us! In less than a minute, it will begin!" He had to keep his gaze forward as he spoke, looking at his audience. (His mother had always said the way his eye went white when he was looking at the third dimension unnerved people.) "Soon—you won't have to take all my claims about the third dimension on faith. You'll be able to see for yourself the effect of the third dimension on the plane."

The crowd murmured excitedly. He could see his father relax. He stared up-but-not-north, gnawing nervously on his eyelid until he caught himself. The beast above glowed a warm pink in the light of the nearby sun.

And the stupid thing. Slowed. Again.

He stared in disbelief.

"Sixty seconds," his father whispered, out of range of the microphone.

His stomach flopped. He was dead.

"One minute, fifteen seconds. What's going—?"

He held his microphone away and hissed, "The eclipse decided to zigzag."

"Eclipses can zigzag?"

"Shhh!" He'd already failed. He'd already shown everyone he was wrong. He could hear the murmurs. His eye hurt from staring at the sun and from straining for so long to turn so far upward-not-northward, go faster faster faster—

There! The snout of the eclipse was this close to kissing the perimeter of the sun. He cried triumphantly, "Now!"

The wretched beast did a loop-the-loop around the sun and missed it entirely.

The triangle felt the last strands of his fraying self-composure snap.

He howled in rage.

He could hear laughs from the crowd. They felt like daggers in his sides.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" He was bellowing into outer space as if he thought it might hear him, "Do your think this is a game?! Is this funny?! Are you trying to humiliate me in front of the whole world!" His father put a hand on his arm; the triangle shoved him away. "Get back here right now! You thick, brainless, blobby, pink, feeler-faced two-eyed freak of nature! GET BACK HERE and LOOK ME IN THE EYE!" He was a lunatic, everyone would know it, their leader raving in a direction no one could actually see about some big pink delusion, what did he care, no one would ever take him seriously again anyway—

And the thing in the sky.

Stopped.

And looped back.

And came closer, and closer, and bigger, and bigger—it just kept getting bigger, how far away had it been before, how large was it, how large was the sun?

He hardly noticed the crowd's gasp as the creature twirled between them and the sun—the light shone through its body, pink with blood—and then out of the way, and then in again, and out—until finally it was so close that its perimeter completely engulfed the sun. He'd taken a field trip to the planet's surface once—an enormous solid mass of stone and crystal. Until now, he'd never seen another solid objects so large. To his limited understanding of 3D objects, it looked as though there were no organs inside its perimeter—just a layer of solid, uninterrupted flesh. He didn't know how it could even move.

It stopped straight over him.

He was sure the two black circles embedded inside its body must be its eyes. His whole life he'd heard psychic powers—psychic powers like his own—described as having an "inner eye." But he'd thought the phrase was just a metaphor. An eye on the inside of a body instead of on its perimeter would be useless to most people. He'd never seen a creature with an eye literally on the inside of its body. But the eclipse had two.

And they were looking at him.

A giant ever-shapeshifting cosmic horror from outside of reality, staring through the veil separating the sane world from outerplanar space, and it was looking—at—him.

He was terrified.

He heard an alien voice in his head, vast and deep and slow as distant whale song:

"Hello there!" It was overjoyed. It was tickled pink. "I've never been spoken to by a shape on the wall before. I didn't know you could see off of it!"

Weakly, the triangle repeated, "'A shape on the'...?"

"Yes, this wall of yours." The eclipse gestured with its tail at—everything. A single sweep that took in an entire dimension. "I've probably commuted past this wall billions of times, and nothing's ever called to me before. I didn't know shadows could do that!"

"'Shadows'?" the triangle echoed again. That was all they were? An eclipse's shadows?

"I'm absolutely delighted," the eclipse said. "First contact from a lower-dimensional species! I've watched you for eons and never imagined. Isn't this exciting! How charming of you! Tell me who you are."

Him? "Me?"

"Of course. Who else?" It stared at him. Only him. A shapeshifting force of nature the size of a planet with two inner eyes, an eclipse that saw him as a shadow—and it was looking only at him.

Weakly, he said, "I'm... the Magister Mentium."

The eclipse thought that over. Its tone was a tad dubious and not terribly impressed (why should it be impressed? he was embarrassed at himself for giving his silly puffed-up title)—but it said, "Yes, I suppose that's true. I am the Axolotl. It's been a pleasure meeting you." It began to shapeshift again—its eyes slid sideways through its body, until one reached its perimeter and disappeared.

It dawned on the triangle, in its first immature understanding of third dimensional objects, that its eye had disappeared because the Axolotl was turning away. "Wait!" he cried. "Why..." Why answer him? Why focused on him so completely, if he was just a shadow? Why ask who he was like he mattered? He didn't even know how to put those questions to words in his own mind, much less out loud. "Why are you here so early?"

The Axolotl turned back to the triangle. "Oh! I had to go back for some documents I forgot at the office. Big case in the morning," it said. "You shadows know my schedule?"

"You... pass in front of the sun."

The Axolotl turned away, eyes disappearing and frills fluttering, to look at the sun. "So I do! How funny." It turned toward the triangle and gave him a strange, grotesque look that—by the tone of its psychic voice—he suspected was a smile. "I must get going. I'll be heading into the office a few hours late tomorrow, but perhaps I'll see you again then." And it turned away. It felt like it took forever for the enormous body to sail over-not-north-of the triangle—and pass, at last, out of the sun's path.

The triangle didn't look down-but-not-south until someone shook his side—his father. He lowered his dazed gaze to the crowd—the cheering, applauding crowd. Ma-gi-ster, Ma-gi-ster. A sea of multicolor confetti shapes that filled the air to the horizon.

Shadows.

His father shook him again—"Go on, say something. They're waiting"—and the triangle held up his mic as though he were in a dream. He tried to remember what he was supposed to say. "I was right," he said flatly. "Just like I always told you. I can see the third dimension. The realm of dreams—of colors, of light, and..." The lies left a sick taste in the back of his eye. He couldn't say them. Points of light in darkness and pink nightmares.

"I'm s— You'll all have to excuse me," he said, his voice childish and small. "I can't—I've had a... a... profound... spiritual experience. I must meditate on the revelations I've received." The words felt like woo-woo mumbo-jumbo. "The next eclipse will be a few months after the new year." It seemed important, for some reason, to pass that information on. Wasn't that what he always said he did? Share the wisdom of third dimensional spirits with his followers? "I... have to go now."

His father took his elbow. "This is your moment," he whispered. "Come on, son—you don't want to lose your chance to speak directly to them, do you?"

He shoved the microphone in his father's side. "You speak to them."

"But—"

"I can't," he said. "I can't."

He cut through the crowd as fast as it would part for him—if they were any slower, he'd have started stabbing his way through—haunted the whole way by their applause.

####

And that was it.

From the Axolotl's perspective, he had just had a brief pleasant exchange with a precocious tadpole in a sidewalk puddle.

From the triangle's perspective, he might as well have been standing on the boat deck watching as Cthulhu rose from his millennia of dead slumber at the bottom of the ocean, turned to the fragile vessel bobbing on the waves, and said, "Good morning! Glorious weather we're having, isn't it?"

And from the perspective of the Higher Dimensional Gate, their Magister Mentium had predicted an eclipse, been rightfully insulted when it didn't come the exact second he ordered it, and furiously summoned down an eclipse darker and swifter and longer than any in recorded history.

Up until then, he had been seen as, at best, an oracle. A prophet. A messenger to share the secrets of the third dimension, but that was all he could do. But now, he had commanded forces in an unseen dimension, creating an eclipse months before it was natural. He had made it flicker on and off like he had his finger on the sun's light switch. News reports and the most unimpeachable scientific authorities reported that the eclipse had centered on the location of the Higher Dimensional Gate rally, narrowed down to an inexplicably small radius around that point, and then remained unchanged for several long minutes, long enough for anyone in its shadow to grow fatigued from the missing sunshine. Nothing like that had ever happened before. It defied every known fact about the science of eclipses.

People around the gathering—even people who had known nothing about the Higher Dimensional Gate rally—reported that during the eclipse, they'd become inexplicably disoriented, unable to tell compass directions, and had felt themselves fall toward the darkness—as if gravity's pull had suddenly moved from the south to the epicenter of the eclipse. Public building inspections confirmed that somehow the entire town had shifted, ever so slightly, closer to the epicenter. Closer to the Magister.

Never mind prophecy; as far as the Magister's rapidly-increasing followers were concerned, he might have been a god.

It was the greatest triumph a baby cult leader could ask for.

He barely noticed.

####

For days, he could hardly sleep, speak, or think. He kept losing track of conversations to stare into space. Now, it awed his followers when his eye turned an empty white—he must have been communing with something in a higher dimension.

He didn't argue. It was better than letting them know he was losing his mind.

He spent his time alone locked in his room, pacing back and forth, trying not to look up-but-not-north and failing. Dwelling on the significance of it all. Feeling like he'd never figure it out.

He used to love cosmic horror stories, back when he had time to read. They followed a reliable pattern: the hero travels farther than any rational shape ever should, meets something big, and goes mad from the realization.

And what was it that the hero always realized? That he was a dust fleck in the firmament. That he was insignificant. That he didn't matter. That there were things out there he'd never seen before and would never truly understand, and that they cared not for mere shadows on the wall like him, and that in the grand scheme of the cosmos he was nothing. That he was utterly unimportant.

In moments of what felt like lucidity in between the shivering horror, the triangle  wryly acknowledged that it was no surprise he'd ended up in a cosmic horror story. He could see into another dimension. In the stories he'd read, that made it all but inevitable.

But all the authors had gotten the maddening revelation wrong. He could have handled knowing he was nothing. It almost would have been a relief. 

True horror was knowing he mattered.

He'd spent the majority of his young life selling the idea that he was oh-so-important, as part of a big con to trick gullible idiots into liking him and flinging cash at his rotten undeserving family—and he'd only been able to do it because when the guilt got to him, when his conscience asked what would become of the shapes forking over their life savings on false promises of divine secrets, he could look out into bleak black space and tell himself that nothing really mattered, nothing was important, nothing he'd ever do would really make a difference, and the people he manipulated didn't matter any more than he did. He meant everything to his worshipers, and nothing to the universe. He could do anything and it didn't matter.

For a moment, a vast mind-melting shape-shifting incomprehensible eldritch god had focused its full attention on him—of all the universe, of all the dimensions beyond the known universe, it had looked at him and only him—a mere shadow on the wall, and yet in that moment, it found him interesting. It found him worthy of notice. He had screamed into the cold uncaring void, and the void had cared. For a moment, he'd held cosmic importance. He mattered. His actions mattered.

He'd felt it see him as important, but why? What was so important about him? There had to have been something significant he'd done, something he showed it, something in what he said. He replayed their conversation in his mind over and over and over and over, trying to remember what he'd done that proved he mattered.

He didn't know what it was. He couldn't find it. All he could remember was just... being.

The writers were wrong. Cosmic horror wasn't when an elder god's eyes slid past you without noticing you existed. It was when the elder god gazed down at you at your lowest and bleakest, during your most petty and selfish act of mass swindling, from a dimension where not even slamming the door and shutting your eye could shield you from its gaze—and it decided you were worth caring about. Cosmic horror was when you encountered a colossal alien that planted the incomprehensibly alien idea in your head that you had an inherent worth just because you existed. Cosmic horror was when a force of nature asked the name of a shadow on the wall.

If it was true... if it all mattered... then what was he doing? How could he? What had he done?

####

He was lucky—he was lucky that his parents had raised him to think so clearly about issues like morality and money and easy marks. His only saving grace was that he was too rational to seriously entertain the Axolotl's mad ideas.

And yet, his mind boiled with mad regret. It blazed with insane guilt. The heat of it could burn him out. It was months before he could continue his public sermons without feeling sick—and even once he did, he could still feel the delusion that what he did mattered, festering in his mind.

It would fester for the next trillion years.

####

(And that concludes this plot arc! I hope y'all enjoyed it!! I'd love to hear what y'all thought of the whole thing—especially now that we've looped back to the original eclipse. 😁)

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Soo, for the event: "Please leave him, I know I'm not perfect but for you i'll try, I promise i'll try"

Or something like that

~1k words. (They're idiots in love)

You knew Jason Todd would never be yours. Knew it when you were barely a teenager and just entering high school. Knew it when he miraculously returned from the dead. Knew it when he made a name for himself as a hero.

It wasn’t just the fact he was consistently voted one of the most attractive vigilantes in the Gotham Gazettes annual popularity contest. No, it was the fact that Jason Todd belongs among legends and myths, and you? You were none of those things.

You weren’t delusional to believe yourself worthy of him, not when he walked with gods and monsters and always seemed to come out on top. So, you buried your feelings, buried them so deep that no one batted an eye when you started dating.

Your relationships never seemed to last long, though, not when they always seemed to have a problem with your best friend being a guy, and then a bigger problem with said best friend being your roommate.

But your most recent boyfriend has managed to last longer than any of your previous relationships. You thought it was a good sign, that maybe you could move on from your age-old crush.

Your heart had other plans. It didn't help that your boyfriend didn't seem to exactly care about you either. He seemed more interested in his video games, and in dragging you along to whatever parties his friends are throwing.

It was obvious, to everyone really, he was using you as some kind of arm candy. You figured it was only fair, you were using him too, even if he didn't know.

Your friends were at least nice about it, even as you brushed off their concerns that you deserved better. Jason, though? He couldn't seem to let it go.

It was almost an everyday conversation for the past week. He'd never been so opposed to any of the people you’ve dated before, but he's treating your boyfriend like he has a personal vendetta.

Sharp glares whenever he picks you up, biting remarks to have you home safe. Those you could deal with, but the near lectures? The insistence that your boyfriend is the wrong guy for you? It's aggravating. You know your boyfriend is wrong, but you can't exactly have what you want.

“He won't make you happy,” Jason grumbles, face furrowed as you sit down on the couch.

“I'm not marrying the guy,” You huff, making a face right back at him. You've been having the same back and forth for days, and you really can't figure out why. Sure, your boyfriend sucks, but he's not hurting you.

Jason looks at you like he's affronted that the idea of marriage is even on your mind, “He's a bum.”

“He's– okay, but he brought me those goldfish,” you protest, gesturing towards the kitchen as if to prove your point.

He cocks his head at you, tone clearly unimpressed, “The ones in the snack bag? Doll, I think they were his leftovers.”

You wince a little, unable to deny his claim as you try to find any good in your relationship, “He texts me goodnight.”

“So do half your friends. And me. I say goodnight to you,” he points out, put out by your instance to defend your boyfriend.

“That's different,” you mumble, dropping your gaze. You find it kind of embarrassing, the way you're still searching for his approval even if you don't particularly care for your current relationship.

“Not really,” he sighs out, and carefully sinks to his knees in front of you to grab your hand. It snaps your attention back to his face. “Look,” he starts slowly, “I just want you to have the best, and he's– he's only gonna make you miserable, sweetheart.”

“What does it matter? Nothing changes if I'm with him or if I'm not,” You grumble, trying not to focus on the way his warmth seeps into your skin.

He looks increasingly conflicted at your words, squeezing your hand as he speaks, “I could treat you better. The way you should be treated.”

Your breath hitches. That's– there's no way. It has to be some kind of joke. He's pitying you, maybe. Or it's some sort of twisted sense of responsibility towards you.

But he keeps talking, voice low like he’s trying not to send you running, “Please leave him, I know I'm not perfect, but for you I'll try, I promise I'll try."

“What are you saying,” You ask weakly, unable to face the possibility that he means any of it.

He meets your gaze, firm and resolute. He sets his jaw like he's working up the courage to spill all his secrets, “I'm saying that I would make you happy. I don't know if it would be great, I don't even know if it would even be good, but I would make sure you were happy. I– you mean the world to me.”

He breathes out your name, raises your hand to brush his lips over your knuckles, “I want you to be happy.”

You think you might be dreaming. Never in your wildest fantasies did you ever consider Jason Todd would be willing to tie himself to you. But there's no waver in his face, no lie in his eyes.

“Just think about it, sweetheart. We're already– you're already the most important person to me. Taking another step together wouldn't be so scary, right” he prompts gently, and you can only dumbly nod in response.

The smile that spreads across his face is intoxicating, and it almost has you agreeing to the whole idea immediately.

“Good, good,” he murmurs, standing up and sending you another wide grin. His voice grows more confident as awe fills your face, “You think on it tonight, doll, break up with him tomorrow, and tomorrow night? I'll take you on a date. A real date. Something you'll like.”

He sounds excited, even eager at the thought, and he leans down to kiss the top of your head. It's hardly the first time he's done it, but it feels different this time, special. “Just think on it,” he tells you, smile easy and inviting.

He leaves you on the couch to think about it. It doesn't take long for you to decide. After all, your boyfriend will understand, you've never been good at saying no to Jason Todd.

[rafesslxt]

friends on vacation | mattheo riddle x reader x slytherin squad

mini series pt. 1

summary: you and your friends go on vacation before you start your last year at hogwarts. Let‘s just say it get‘s interesting between you and your best friend Mattheo.

warnings: modern slytherin group, vacation to spain, cursing, making out, touching a little, lap dance, hickeys, kissing pansy as friends in game, english is not my first language

Enzo, Blaise, Draco, Theodore, Mattheo, Pansy and me. We all sat together at my house around a big round table. My parents and I had a big house in New York, living there when the wizard world got a little too much.

It wasn‘t the first time that I had all of my friends over, we were inseparable. Everybody knew. So after a few years I showed them a little of my second world, leaving them no choice but to like it. Just like me, they liked to escape our world sometimes, leaving all the monsters and unicorns behind for some relaxing. Just like now.

"So.. where do we wanna go, huh?" Theodore asked into the round, lightning his cigarette.

"Why don‘t we think about what kind of vacation we want first?" I said, taking my Ipad in front of me and opening my vacation apps. " Please somewhere near the beach. I wanna tan and we‘re around the forest and mountains all the time in Hogwarts." Pansy said, stretching her legs over Draco‘s and Blaise‘s laps who were sitting on my garden couch.

"Yeah I agree, If I see one more forest I‘m gonna die." Blaise joins the conversation with a dramatic sigh at the end.

Mattheo and Draco teased each other at the meantime like little kids, throwing their cherry pits at each other.

"What about Italy? There‘s beach and sun." Enzo asks, sitting on the grass beneath us, playing with my dog. "Nah, I already live there that‘s no vacation for me." Theo answers, shaking his head and blowing out some smoke while speaking.

"I have an idea! Spain is beautiful and it‘s really hot there too, perfect to tan. I was there a few years ago with my parents. And the flight from there back to Hogwarts isn‘t that long. 2-3 hours I think." I suggested and looked around the table, all eyes on me now.

"Where exactly in Spain?" Mattheo asks me, sitting right next to me on a second couch, throwing a pit at Draco again. " Alicante is a great vacation spot. Lots of palms, beach, great fruits and sun. You guys will love it." I smile, already looking for flights for the next days.

"Sounds fine to me." Enzo shrugs, smiling up at me while the rest of our group joins in with "great idea" and some "let‘s do this".

2 days later

" Oh my god its beautiful! " Pansy says, stunned at the apartment I booked for us. "Wow, what a view. You really did a great job y/n." Blaise agrees.

The apartment has indeed a beautiful view, you can see the ocean right in front of us even tho it‘s night, you could see it because of all the lights from the little shops and restaurants along the ocean.

"Soo I booked this apartment with the balcony, 3 bathrooms which should be enough for us and 5 bedrooms. Pansy and Draco will share due obvious reasons." I started looking at them. "Also a kitchen so we can.. i din‘t know, have breakfast or have some snacks if everything is closed at night. And this big fat living room we‘re standing in."

" Blaise is right, you really did a great job at that." Mattheo grins, standing right next to me and looking around the living room.

We all settled in and unpacked our things. Pansy and I marked the biggest bathroom with our makeup and skincare stuff so the boys directly knew its our territory.

"Hey guys Theodore and I are going to a store, getting some groceries." Enzo shouted trough the apartment before walking outside the door with Theo.

"Pansy and me are showering!" I shouted so they‘d know what we‘re up to.

Mattheo and Draco looked at each other, before storming off the couch and sprinting to our bathroom only to realise the door was already locked. "Ugh."

I laughed at them together with Pansy as I shook my head. I took off my makeup as Pansy already got in the shower. "Mattheo is so smitten by you it‘s obvious." She laughs, shampooing her hair.

"You know we‘re just friends, Pansy." I say, cheekly smiling. Mattheo and I are best friends since first grade. All of us got friends real quick. Mattheo and Draco knew each other because the Malfoy‘s raised him for Voldemort. Pansy got a crush on Draco and didn‘t leave his side. Pansy and I had to share a dorm in Hogwarts which made us best friends too really fast. I met Enzo at my first class as he was my partner for the whole year. Blaise met Draco in the common room as they battled for the coolest broom. That‘s how we kind of found our way to each other and I wouldn‘t want to change it for a second.

"Yeah but he looks at you different as he looks at me for example." she answers. "Yeah because you‘re with Draco and he would chop Mattheo‘s dick off!" I laugh before joining her in the shower.

"No y/n, because he likes you a little more than just friends do. And hey I‘m not saying he loves you but all I���m saying is that there is a little spark between the two of you."

Mattheo and I liked to flirt with each other a lot but we never really did something about it because we‘re just friends. And we just like to flirt for fun. Thats it. I think..

As we were ready we put on some clothes and walked outside the bathroom, our hair still wet from the shower. Pansy sat next to Draco, putting her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her. I had to smile at them, they always made me smile no matter what they did. Draco always acted cold towards eveyone around him, besides from his friends of course, we are like family. But he acted really warm around her which made me happy for both of them.

I sat down between Blaise and Mattheo, making myself comfortable laying my legs over Blaise his lap and my head on Mattheo‘s tigh. "Why am I always getting your girls legs?" Blaise complains with a little smile on his face. "Oh shut up you love my legs." I say winking at him which just made him laugh and shaking his head.

A few seconds later I felt a hand in my hair, massaging my scalp which made me purr a little. "Like that?" Mattheo asks, grinning down at me. "You know I do, Matty." I sigh, closing my eyes and enjoying his touch. "Your hair smells really good when it‘s wet. What is it, peach?" he asks me and lowers his head a little bit to my hair. " Oh so my hair only smells good when it‘s wet? But yes, it is peach indeed." Mattheo chuckles at my answer. "No it always smells great. It just smells more intense when it‘s wet."

Suddenly I heard a gagging noice which made me lift my head and see Blaise fake gagging. "Can you two take a room?"

"You‘re just jelous because you‘re alone." Draco snickers from the side, stroking Pansy‘s back. I laugh at his comment before I get a death glare from Blaise.

We all get interrupted by our phone‘s ringing. I take mine out if my pocket just like the rest did and saw a notification from our group chat. Yes, I made them get a phone a year ago but they all only used it between the holidays. Never in Hogwarts. But I did and I also made everyone of them an instagram account a while ago but Theo, he only joined this week.

Theodore: Yo guys we‘re on our way with all the groceries get ready for some drinks! And aye y/n this app you showed me is fuuuull of hot girl why didn‘t you show me sooner dude! *picture attached*

I laugh at his message just like the others do and answer him.

Y/N: I told you but you didn‘t want to join! 😤 I‘m getting the glasses 👀

As i send the message i stand up and walk towards the kitchen to get some glasses and shot glasses. "I‘m gonna help." Mattheo speaks as he stands up from his spot and follows me.

As I grab some glasses from a shelf above me, I feel his presence behind me. "Are you smelling my hair again?" "Yeah it‘s kind of addicting." He admits and kisses the top of my head before he grabs some glasses too and brings them back to the living room and sets them on the table in front of the couch.

I turn on the tv and switched to netflix putting on some random show for some background noises. Just in time Theo and Enzo came trough the door with bags full of alcohol and some food. "Hey guys, just put it on the table, glasses are ready."

"Yo Y/n we got something for you." "What is it?" I wondered as Theo pulled out a big bowl of fruits, handing them over to me with the words "here principessa, you talked the whole fucking flight about the food and especially the fruits here."

"Oh thank you thank you!" I hugged them both tightly and opened the bowl exited to eat some fruits right away. As the first piece of melon hit my tounge I moaned dramatic, sitting back down on the couch. "Ugh I love it so much. Here guys, try some fruits."

They all laughed at my behavior and took some fruits out if the bowl. "Wow these are really good." Blaise nodded, eating a piece of pineapple.

I took out a strawberry and put it to the half into my mouth, slightly sucking on it as I looked over to Mattheo, holding the bowl out to him as he was the only one who didn‘t take some.

He sat down to my left and took the other half of my strawberry, eating it while looking into my eyes. My cheeks flushed a light color of pink and I had to look away which made him smile.

"Come on guys let‘s drink something." Draco says standing up and taking the first bottle, looking towards me. "What‘s that? Jim Bean. There‘s an green apple on it, does it taste like that?"

"Uh- a little bit, it‘s strong alcohol like firewhiskey but with a hint of green apple." i tell him.

"Sounds fire." he says and pours something into our glasses, mixing it with Coke. We all took one, cheered and took our first sip. "And? You like it?“ i ask Draco with a smug face on my face. "Yeah i like this muggle stuff more and more." We all laugh at that and continue drinking and chatting, also planning a little bit what we‘re gonna do the next few days.

A few hours later we are all drunk, sitting on the couch and on the floor, but all around the table, playing uno. It was only Pansy against Blaise, the rest of us already lost. Blaise lay‘s down a wish card, seeing Pansy has only left 1 card. He thinks for a sec and says "blue" before Pansy springs up happy and dancing, throwing her blue card on the table. " Uno! ha!" Blaise groans in annoyance and lets himself fall back onto the couch.

"Let‘s play something more interesting guys!" Pansy suggests." Somethink like.. never have I ever or.. truth or dare!"

"Truth or Dare!" I giggle, taking an empty bottle from the ground. " I have a perfect app for this guys! It‘s called piccolo." I took out my phone and put all of our names into it so it could give us our first quest.

Draco and Enzo tell us about your most embarrassing story ever.

We all look at them, waiting for them to tell. Enzo tells us how his pants ripped at a date and Draco claims nothing embarrassing has ever happened to him but Pansy tells us how he sneezed into her face at the first dinner with her parents.

Theodore, choose someone‘s glass at the table and drink it all.

Theo groans and try‘s to take the glass with the least drink in it and chooses Mattheo‘s who has a little less in it then mine.

Mattheo, fill up your glass again.

Now Mattheo‘s the one who groans and does as the phone tells him to.

Y/n, choose your left or right for a at least 10 second kiss.

My eyes widen as I look to my left and see Mattheo grinning and to my right Pansy. "Sorry Mattheo." I giggle as i turn to my right and look at Pansy. She has to giggle too and comes near my face.

"Damn boys am I dreaming or are you seeing the same thing I do?" Theodore asks as he gawks at us.

"Shut up and be quiet!" Draco hisses and looks at us too. "Let‘s give them a show." Pansy giggles and pulls me closer. Our lips meet and I can‘t help but smile against her lips.

"Shit.." i hear Enzo whispering. She giggled against my lips as she hears him too and as the 10 seconds are up we seperate and look around us. They all look at us with big eyes and drooling mouths. "God what is it with boys that they find it so hot when teo girls are making out." Pansy asks.

As I lean back into my spot, Mattheo leans right next to me, his lips beside my ear as he whispers inside it "i don‘t know if i should be jelous or lucky to see something like that." My cheeks heat up again but I try to hide it with rolling my eyes and answering " you‘re a little pervert, mattheo." But I still have to laugh.

"And they‘re gone." I hear Blaise saying, which makes me look at them again to see the last bit of Draco and Pansy before they leave the living room and stumble kissing inside of their shared room.

I shake my head chuckling, Theo shouting "Use condoms my kids!"

Enzo, choose someone to drink against you, loser has to do the cleaning.

Enzo looks around the room and grins at me. "Oh my god why.." i half laugh and half whine as I take my glass and start drinking as fast as I can but Enzo is way faster and smashes his glass back down onto the table it almost broke. "Ha! yes!" Enzo celebrates.

Theodore, choose someone in this round and give them an interesting task.

Theo thinks for a moment before his lips curl up into a devilish smile. "Y/n.. " he starts "choose someone of us to give a lapdance to."

My face heats up at his words and my mind starts to think who to choose as I stand up to walk over to Theodore, but a pair of hands grip my hips and pull me into their matching lap. "Don‘t you dare pick someone else than me little peach." mattheo‘s deep voice echoes in my ear.

I look over to Blaise and tell him to put on a song for me. "Damn she really is gonna give him one." Enzo chuckles as he watches me standing up again in front of Mattheo.

Blaise puts on a song which comes out of the music boxes beside us.

I take a deep breath in and out, hoping not to embarrass myself in my drunken state.

I take his hand and leat him to an empty arm chair besides the couch.

I start slowly circling the chair, my finger gazing his shoulder and his chest as the music starts. When I stand behind him I grap his hair and softly pull on it so his head throws back. I arch my back and lower down a bit until i tease him with brushing my lips against the skin of his neck, making him shivers in his seat. I get back up and walk around the chair again, still touching his arm softly.

When I stand in front of him I put my foot on his chair between his spread legs, slowly tracing it with my own fingers. I know how much he loves me legs, he always told me. That was the real reason why Blaise always got the legs. Because I wanted to tease Mattheo.

I saw him gulping and his hands twitching as he trys not to touch my leg. I take my leg back to the ground and arch my back again, pushing his legs together and sitting on his lap in one smooth motion.

I hear the boys whistle at my move and I have to hide a smile. I slowly start to grind on his left tight, after a minute on his right but not with too much pressure, always just brushing and gazing touch.

I looked at Mattheo, him biting his lower lip and looking down at my hips grinding. I stand up again, turn around and bend over with an arched back, shaking my ass.

After that I took a few steps towards him but still with my back to him and sat down on his lap this time, leaning my back against him and slithering one arm around his neck so his head was at my shoulder. I started grinding my hips slowly but this time with more pressure. "And you wanted to do that on one of them?" Mattheo whispers in my ear, laying his hands on my moving hips.

Without answering him I stood up as the song was over. They all cheered and clapped their hands together which made me laugh and blush. I sat back down on the couch looking over to Mattheo who stood up, his hands hanging in front of his crotch.

He walked over to me, sitting beside me with a little frown to his face which made me gulp. "What‘s wrong?" I asked him quietly so the rest wouldnt hear, even tho they were already distracted by something new. "Nothing." he mumbled and looked at the still running tv. "Come on tell me, we‘re best friends. I can see somethings wrong."

Then he looks at me with sharp eyes, taking my hand and putting it on his lap. "Does this feel like nothing to you, y/n?" he asks with a low voice, my eyes going wide as I felt him hard in his pants, because of.. me?

Without even thinking I grabbed him trough his pants, making his eyes go wide. At first he looked at the boys, then at me. "Y/n.. " "Mattheo.."

Suddenly he grabs my shirt pulling me towards him and crashes his lips against mine. This time my eyes go wide as I feel his lips against mine. They feel soft and full, tasting like the apple whiskey we drank all night long. His hands roam over my body, feeling almost every inch of me.

I lick his bottom lip before I let him explore my mouth with his tounge. "Fuck you taste so fucking good." he breathes against my lips.

My hand is still on his lap, feeling almost paralyzed as i didn‘t move out of fear what would happen next If I continue. But I could feel how much harder he got from our little makeout session.

"Mattheo.. we have to stop." I whisper against his lips, my forehead against his. "But it feels so good.." "I know it does, but we will regret it If we don‘t stop, okay?" He groans and takes me by my hips, pulling me on top of him.

"Y/n, please. I beg you. Just make out a little more with me, I need this." he slurrs, obviously still as drunk as I am. That‘s why I blame my next decision on the alcohol.

My hands grab his shirt and I pull him even closer to me, brushing my lips against his. "Tomorrow we‘re normal friends again okay? Nothings going to be awkward or different, because we just make out a little.. like friends do, helping each other just to ease a little. Promise me." the words come out as a whisper and he nodds, agreeing to them. ".. I promise."

Desperately he closes the space between us, taking my lips in for a heated kiss again. My hands were on his hair, slightly pulling on some strands. "Do that again.." he groans. I pull again and a strangled moan leaves his lips making me shiver on him.

He arches his back a little, bucking his hips against mine. He shudders when my hips move back against his, still sitting on his lap.

"What are you even doing to me, Peach – huh?" I hear him say before he traces down an invisible path down my neck, leaving light and wet kissed.

– thats all I remember before waking up in my bed in the morning with my head hurting like hell. I groan and try to get up, wanting to take a shower. It sounds like the rest is still asleep so I walk into mine and Pansy‘s bathroom, taking off my clothes to get into the shower. With one last turn I see myself in the mirror, my eyes widen. What the fuck.

I had a hickey right between my breasts and one on my collorbone but it was really small and almost bot noticeable. Who was - shit Mattheo.

—

yoo 2 posts in less than 24h ?? Crazyy

this is going to be a mini series. 🫶🏻 inspired by my vacation 2 weeks ago to Barcelona 🇪🇸

my Masterlist

xoxo Sarah <3

[obiscious]

MF!AU Art

Next || heres the main cast of characters !

Characters

dipper ( brown spotted deer centaur ) = the other pines twin that doesnt sprout magic flowers from their hooves . he can switch between quad and bipedal forms , typically mistaken for being a satyr once bipedal . he is fords apprentice and takes the same school as mabel does .

mabel ( snow coat deer centaur ) = the pines twin that has flowers grow from the ground her hooves walk on . everyone loves her because the flowers are always based on what shes thinking , its always sweet when shes happy ! mabel doesnt mind that dipper is fords apprentice , she appreciates that he wants to pursue science and magic ! she , herself , is actually stans right hand ! mabel helps him run a flower and mystery shop , theres a gift shop with a box full of random prizes .

stanford ( griffin with a lion head ) = the stan twin with two too many toes in his true form . he was made fun of for his wings and toes deformity in his early and late childhood , however , he pursued the weird and wonderful mysteries of interdimensional travel and whatever wacky science he could find . with the help of his old pal fiddleford , they decided to create a little pet project dedicated to finding a world similar to theirs . with the support of northwest industries and his fellow monster kind , he was able to accomplish just one of his dreams , to travel the universe .

stanley (chimera with lion base ) = stanley had heard about ford and fidds little pet project straight from fords lab partner himself . he had a really close connection with the two of them , although , fidds told him that he didnt have a good feeling about the portal . . . something about bi-pedal ? bicycle ? it was just something communicating from the other side . he wasnt sure what was happening but he plans on visiting stanford because fidds last message was unclear . stan was getting worried . fidds never mentioned where ford was . hell have to leave the shop to soos and have him take care of mabel this summer , hopefully dipper isnt in trouble either .

[kusakiguzen]

Hi, I don't know if your requests are open, but I was wondering if you can do a fluff headcannon with the monster trio (luffy, zoro and sanji), ace and law with a selective mute reader hearing them talk a little for the first time as they are getting comfortable with them please.

Hellooo thanks for stopping by!!!

A/N: I'm pretty sure I wasn't able to embody? the selective mutism condition better but I tried.. Soo yeah i hope you enjoy?

Selective mutism

Selective mutism is a complex anxiety disorder that affects an individual’s ability to speak in certain social situations, despite being able to communicate freely in other settings. It is not a matter of “choosing” to speak or remain silent, but rather a phobic response to specific people or environments.

Luffy

You joined the crew during the Alabasta arc, being the younger sister of Vivi and the second princess of the kingdom.

Responsibilities were piled on you when your sister had left making you too busy to do anything.

Sir Crocodile's rule and the Rebel army were giving you a headache and on top of that you had to protect the kingdom.

You had offered yourself to crocodile as exchange to letting your sister go and he agreed.

He left scares, deep scars both emotional and physical, Robin did try to help you but there was only so much she could do.

When your sister returned and recued you, she was horrified seeing your condition, malnourished, abused and littered with wounds. The eyes that once shone lost all their light.

It didn't help that the Marine put bounty on you for god knows what reason.

This caused Vivi to make a difficult choice... To send you away with the Straw Hat crew.

She already spoke to all of them and the reluctantly agreed.

You joined the crew and you helped out in the brains department but never spoke, making the crew believe that you were mute.

Which didn't add up since Vivi told them you used to make speeches often in place of your father.

You on the other had were scared shitless because even if your sister trusted these people you didn't. They were pirates just like Crocodile.

Slowly you started trusting them but still not enough to speak. You also started to develop feeling for your goofy and idiotic captain.

It wasn't long after that your captain popped the question asking you to be his girlfriend, Kudos to Nami who explained to the idiot that he was in love with you.

He never pushed you to speak since he genuinely believed you were mute.

You still didn't speak. Even in Sabaody when you were sent away by Kuma. Leaving an absolutely heartbroken Luffy behind.

Then came the Marine Ford incident and you were absolutely devastated for Your boyfriend and completely ignored his wish to stay away for two years and made your way back.

You met Raylight who took you to Luffy after much begging and practically bowing and holding his feet. He was going to take you to Luffy anyway and panicked hard when you knelt and grabbed his feet.

You arrived at the Island where Luffy was supposed to be training and the moment you saw him, you bolted towards him bringing him into tight hug.

Leaving him in surprise when you started to whisper apologise and and 'I love you-s'

He looked at you shocked and then soon crashes his lips in yours. After the kiss, broke down in your arms while you whispered sweet nothings in his ears.

It was the first time he heard your angelic voice but it certainly won't be his last.

Now he always asked you questions and would not sleep until your whispering in his ears

He had became addicted to your voice and he was also glad that he was the first one to hear it.

P.s. He worked even hared to hear you praise him.

Zoro

You were rescued by Zoro.

You were a slave to the celestial dragon, who would punish you f you spoke making you afraid of speaking in front of them.

There were a few fellow slaves you conversed with but with them to it was only a few words and at most a few sentences.

Zoro had taken you away when his captain punched your master.

He brought you back to the ship and took care of you. Feed you, made you drink water and even bathed you but was stopped by Sanji along with Robin and Nami.

The two women were the one who washed and dressed you.

It took you a while to understand that you can do whatever you wanted and not have to wait around to be ordered.

You finally started to feel comfortable enough to ask the crew members for thing, in writing since you were still scared to speak up.

You stuck with Zoro, following him everywhere. Which at first he found annoying but later he thought you were absolutely adorable.

He developed feeling soon enough, And confessed which you accepted since you felt comfortable with him.

You still didn't speak and relied on writing.

But one day you craved the Sundae that Sanji had made for Nami A few weeks back.

So you asked Zoro to bend down a little and softly spoke that you wanted "that weird thing that Sanji gave to Nami"

He looked at you dumbfounded and when he finally processed what happened, he picked you up and spun you around with a huge smile on his face.

You were surprised when he did that and also confused, he soon bought you closer placing his lips softly on yours, still smiling.

He boasts about how you only talk to him and no one else till you actually start to everyone ( with the help of Zoro).

He loves hearing you praising him and sometimes flexes even more just to hear your soft voice excitetly tell him about how cool he is.

Also loves it when you call him nicknames like "honey" and "darling".

P.s. He also forced Sanji to Make like 5-6 Sundaes for you and double the food you ask Sanji to prepare. Also buys you alot of things ranging from clothes to jewels with Nami or Robin's help.

Sanji

You met him before he joined the crew,

Stranded and starved without money you stumbled across the Baratie Restaurant, they were kind enough to give you food and refuge.

You joined work there soon enough.

Sanji was kind but he was also flirty with other women hence you didn't read much into it.

But feeling develop and you fell, often found yourself jealous of the women he flirted with.

Then came the incident that made him join The Straw Hats pirates.

You were scared that if he left, he wouldn't come back. But all those worries dwindled into nothingness after Luffy asked you to join them, curtsy to Sanji who had kept it as a condition for joining the crew.

Sanji loved you, there was nothing anyone could say to deny that fact. He flirted with women after meeting you, but it was only to see your reaction to confirm if you had feeling for him too.

You were asked to be his girlfriend soon after joining the crew, but yo were hesitent given his history of him fliting but you accepted none the less.

Sanji did a complete 180 after he started dating you, meaning no flirting with other women or simping for them. You were the apple of his eyes, his goddess.

He too never forced you to speak, because he believed that you were mute, and the reason you comunicated through writing sometimes.

The first time you spoke to him was when you both were enjoying the beautiful moon alone, accompanied with comfortable silence.

It was a simple "I Love you" and " Thank you for being patient with me"

After he heard you speak he actually thought that it was his mind playing games considering he believed you couldn't speak. But when you repeated your words again with a soft smile, He brought you close initiating a soft and passionate kiss.

Safe to say he cried but reassured you that it was happy tears since you were panicking thinking you did something wrong.

He noticed that you only spoke when you were both alone or soft whispers if you couldn't get Sanji in privacy.

He was overjoyed and even helped you open up to others with futile effort but he was patient

He would whisper praises and reminding you how much he loved you and you reciprocating.

P.s. The first time the crew heard your voice was on the Whole Cake Island when Sanji was said to marry Pudding. Oh the colorful words you said sent shivers down every one's spines, and not in a good way. It took Sanji a long time to be forgiven.

I literally cannot come up with scenarios for Ace and Law right now for some reason. So I'm posting for these three right now and will post for the other when I do get an Idea worth posting.

And I'm sorry if I got the selective mutism wrong.

I still hope you will enjoy.

Stay Safe Heathy and Hydrated!

[unknownplane]

The Court Jester Part 4

Yandere Batfam x GN Reader

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3

Waking up (Y/N)'s head felt fuzzy. Somehow, they felt constricted even though they could move. Looking around, they found themselves in a large room. The bed felt as if it was encasing them. They felt themselves looking for their weapon. Not being able to find it, they get up and start looking around the room.

The room was blank, as if it was a canvas waiting to be painted. It irritated them. 'Where the fuck am I? The last thing I can remember was... oh fuck. Dads gonna be soo pissed! I never got him his drink!'. (Y/N) frantically began looking for a way out realizing they were asked to get something for there dad. They went to the door and found it locked.

Just as they were going to open the other door in the room, the locked door burst open. Bruce Wayne flung himself into the room. "My baby! You're awake! God, what did that monster do to you?" Bruce questioned as he got closer to (Y/N). As soon as he got close enough (Y/N) tripped him and forced him into the ground. "Where am I?! The fuck have you done with my dad?!" (Y/N) yelled. "No need to be hostile kid. We just saved your ass." Jason stated walking into the room. Amused that Bruce had been caught off guard by your violence. Bruce suddenly got out of the hold as (Y/N)s attention shifted to Jason and held their hands behind their back. "You bitch! The fuck are you doing! Let me go!" (Y/N) screamed with struggling in his hold. "No (Y/N) went just got you back and we are going to help you get better." Bruce stated in a firm tone. "I don't need fixing you limp dick son of a bitch! My dad molded me in his image and I'm perfect because of that!" (Y/N) howled. "I think my dear sibling need some alone time." Jason said. Bruce nodded his head and let go of (Y/N) and left the room. "Just so you know (Y/N) because ,even though you are fucked, and I still love you the Joker is dead." Jason professed before he left the room and locked the door.

"No, he's lying. He can't die. He always comes back." (Y/N) whispered and unknowingly started crying. They began to grow themselves around the room, trying to find a way out, and ultimately broke an arm. It took an hour before it eventually healed. Their mental state making it more difficult to heal.

About an hour later, Damian entered the room with a change of clothes. He fought with his sibling for this opportunity to talk with (Y/N) and was going to take advantage of the situation. "Hello, sibling. I have brought you a change of clothes as the ones you are currently wearing are covering in blood and dirt. I hope we can get on better terms during your stay here." Damian spoke calmly, as if he was talking to a terrified animal. "Ah, if it isn't the other basterd child of Bruce Wayne. Tell me how does it feels to know that if your nepotism wasn't taken into account, you would be just another pawn in Al Ghuls game. Stupid and replacable." (Y/N) spoke in a knowing tone. No anger in sight, only a smirk on their face.

They have watched the batfamily for years. They knew all the ways to get under their skin and prod where it hurt most.

Damian's face fell into a look of shock. (Y/N)'s words hurt in a way he had not felt since he first came to the manor. He felt the fear of being useless and replaceable. He dropped the clothes and left the room with a mortified face as (Y/N) started to laugh manically.

After Damian left the room, the Joker seemed to appear before them. As if a god. "My dear child, I am dead now, but soon I will find someone to take over. And when that is over, I will find you, and we will make the bat regret taking you away from me. My darling child." The Joker claimed. (Y/N) find with joy began shaking their head rapidly in agreement. "Of course, dad! They'll never know what hit em!" (Y/N) said and started laughing.

-----------------‐-----------------------------

In the batcave

"Their mental capacity seems to be dwindling. They've begun hallucinating. The best course of action would be to start over. I would recommend you get in contact with Martain Manhunter." Tim told Bruce after watching you on the screen. Tim had been watching you since the moment you were brought home. There was something comforting about knowing exactly where you were at all times, no matter what. "Let's wait another day. We don't know what reproductions there might be for doing this to them. If it would even work. You saw what happened with their arm. Their healing ability could stop it from even working!" Stephanie argued, not wanting to lose anymore of you. A broken you was still a masterpiece in her eyes. It showed everyone your hardships and would be used as a reminder to them about how they affected you and your life. No matter how rough you were, you and she didn't want to lose you again. "We'll wait one more day. If they continue to break down like this, we will have no other choice." Bruce stated. "But for now, we will just have to wait and see"

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

Hey guys, sorry for the wait. College has been kicking my ass and Comp has been making me not want to write anything. Hope you enjoy it! Remember, I am always looking for ways to improve.

@cooki3dough @asillysimp @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd @redkarmakai @horror-lover-69 @bat1212 @wisefuncherryblossom @chericia @vannessa-boo @resident-cryptid @staarflower @sirenetheblogger @definitely-not-sammie @lovebug-apple

[thebunnednun]

If you really love me, let me go PI

Parings: Red Haired Shanks x Vice Admiral! Reader

Prompt:

Hey Mami! Soo I've been thinking about our beloved Shanks x Vice admiral!Reader. Cuz why not? He's so carefree, so it would be nice to see him with someone who is the opposite of him.

Warning: Angst.

For, @orange-milky who gave me the prompt for this story. Always making me flustered with their nicknames for me.

ON WITH THE SHOW!!~~

You were peacefully sleeping, the kind of deep, dreamless sleep that came after an exhausting day of paperwork and drills. The cool breeze from the open window gently rustled the curtains, and all was silent in your little abode atop the plateau that overlooked the town.

Everything was still, quiet—until a sudden, sharp crash from downstairs jolted you awake.

Your eyes snapped open, heart still calm and steady despite the noise. You groaned softly, already reaching for the duel pistols you kept under your pillow, a natural reaction born from years of training as a Vice Admiral in the Navy. The best-case scenario flashed in your mind: Luffy and his friends, showing up unannounced again for some reckless, impromptu visit.

You wouldn’t put it past the kid, not after the last time they used your backyard as a training ground for their latest techniques.

But you weren’t one to take chances. Slipping out of bed as quietly as possible, you padded across the room in your fuzzy bunny slippers, your anchor-shaped earrings gleaming faintly in the moonlight.

A quick glance in the mirror showed your reflection: hair in rollers, a green mud mask you’d forgotten to wash off, and your pajamas—a set featuring Uta's face plastered all over, a playful gift from her before she went to sail with Luffy.

The robe you wrapped around yourself was adorned with Luffy’s jolly roger, a ridiculous but endearing gift from the cutie  himself. You sighed, raising your dual pistols to your side, wondering what kind of chaos you’d be walking into this time.

The hall was silent as you made your way down the stairs, moving like a shadow, every step measured, controlled. You clutched the pistols tightly, ready for anything. As you neared the kitchen, the faint sound of muffled whispers reached your ears—low voices, trying (and failing) to be quiet. You rolled your eyes, already guessing the culprits.

There were too many deep voices to be Luffy’s crew.

When you flicked on the light, the kitchen was suddenly bathed in a warm glow, and the scene before you could only be described as utter madness. Every available surface was covered in food, bottles of rum, and—most tellingly—members of the Red Hair Pirates. The twelve of them were scattered across your kitchen as if they owned the place.

Shanks’ crew, all of them: Benn Beckman, Lucky Roux, Yasopp, Hongo, Limejuice, Bonk Punch, Monster, Building Snake, Gab, Rockstar, and—by some cruel twist of fate—Uta wasn’t there this time. She was still off with her brother.

Yasopp was the first to notice you, though his reaction wasn’t what you expected. The second his gaze fell on you, still standing in the doorway with your pistols in hand and a full-on “I-will-kill-you” expression on your face, he burst into laughter. 

It started as a quiet chuckle but quickly grew louder, causing a ripple effect across the room. One by one, the rest of the crew joined in, their laughter filling the space until it felt like the walls themselves were vibrating with the sound.

Your eye twitched in annoyance. Standing there in your bunny slippers, hair in rollers, Uta PJ’s, green mud mask still smeared across your face, you probably looked more ridiculous than intimidating.

Like a pop princess wicked witch of the west. But you were still a Vice Admiral, and your patience had limits.

“Oh, this is rich,” Yasopp wheezed, doubling over as tears streamed from his eyes. “We’re gonna die—” He cut off with another fit of laughter, but before you could decide whether to shoot him or not, the back door swung open, revealing a familiar mop of red hair.

Shanks strode in, his entrance casual as ever. His trademark grin stretched across his face, a bottle of rum in one hand and a bouquet of wildflowers in the other. His eyes lit up when he saw you, seemingly oblivious to the chaos he had caused.

“Hello my love!” he said brightly, as though this were a perfectly normal scene to walk into at what had to be three in the morning.

Your response was instinctive. You raised both pistols and fired—ten rapid shots that would’ve made any rookie in the Navy tremble. Shanks, to his credit, dodged every single one of them with that infuriating grace he always seemed to have, weaving between the bullets like it was all just a game.

“Now, now, let’s not start with violence!” Shanks laughed, clearly unfazed by the near-death experience. He took a step forward and offered the flowers toward you. “For you, my little sea monster.”

You huffed, your glare softening just a fraction as you lowered your pistols. Behind him, Benn Beckman gave you an apologetic smile, his hand already reaching into his coat. “We didn’t mean to disturb you. I wrote you a letter ahead of time,” he explained, holding out the envelope, 

“and we tried to be quiet…”

You sighed, arms crossing as you stared at the lot of them, still lounging around your kitchen as though they lived here. “Clearly, you failed.”

They all muttered their apologies, though none of them seemed particularly guilty. Lucky Roux stuffed his mouth with another pastry, while Bonk Punch and Monster shared a conspiratorial glance. Yasopp was still grinning like a fool, clearly amused by your appearance, though he was at least trying to stifle his laughter now.

Benn stepped forward with a steaming cup of tea, which he handed to you with a practiced air of calm. “In case you woke up,” he said gently, and before you could take a sip, Shanks handed you the bottle of rum with a wink.

“Don’t forget the important part.”

You rolled your eyes but accepted both. “You’re all lucky I like you,” you muttered before taking a seat in the barely-used dining room. Pistols stashed into your pockets, the crew, now more relaxed, went back to their conversations, though they kept their volume lower, out of some remaining respect for your sleep.

Shanks slid into the chair beside you, his arm resting lazily on the back of your seat. He didn’t say anything for a while, content to watch you as you stirred a bit of rum into your tea, the warmth from the cup seeping into your hands.

After a few quiet moments, he leaned in, his voice dropping into that soft, almost tender tone he used only with you. 

“Come with me for a second?”

You arched a brow but didn’t protest. Shanks stood, grabbing the rum bottle as you followed him out of the room. He led you outside, through the back door and up a hidden staircase to the roof. The air was cool, the stars glittering above you like a sea of diamonds, and from this height, you could see the town below, quiet and peaceful in the night.

Shanks leaned against the railing, his gaze wandering across the horizon. You joined him, your eyes following the lines of the ships docked in the harbor and the soft glow of lanterns lining the streets.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the sound of distant waves crashing against the shore filling the silence. Then, Shanks let out a low chuckle.

“You’re still mad, huh?”

You snorted softly, taking a sip of your rum-laced tea. “You and your crew have a terrible sense of timing.”

His grin was mischievous, but there was something softer behind his eyes as he looked at you. “Well, I’ve always had a bad habit of showing up unannounced.” He reached over, brushing a thumb against your cheek, his touch light but affectionate. “But you’ve always taken care of us anyway.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Someone has to.”

The stars above stretched endlessly across the night sky, their brightness cutting through the dark canopy like diamonds spilled across velvet. It was your favorite part of living here—how open and vast the heavens always seemed. You found comfort in how steady they remained, unmoved by the chaos of life below. 

Sometimes, as you looked up at the twinkling lights, you wondered what it would be like to sail in the sky itself, drifting from planet to planet like the sea of stars was just another ocean. Luffy, ever the dreamer, always promised to make your wildest fantasies come true, and knowing him, it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. 

But what about you? What about your responsibilities?

Shanks' voice pulled you from your thoughts, though you hadn’t caught his words.

"Hey, are you alright lass?" he asked softly, his tone laced with a gentle concern.

You blinked, turning your attention back to him, meeting those familiar, warm eyes that seemed to hold a world of their own. 

"Sorry, no. What did you say?"

He smiled, that easy, carefree grin that never quite matched the weight of his words. "I was asking if you’d join me at sea again."

The idea hung between you like the scent of saltwater that always seemed to cling to him. You opened your mouth, glancing toward the town below, gesturing to the village that stretched out in the distance, its peaceful quietness versus the unpredictability of a pirate’s life. The flicker of lanterns from the homes and streets was like the heartbeat of the place you’d sworn to protect.

But Shanks shook his head, his expression unbothered by your hesitation. "Not for long," he clarified. "Just two weeks. I know you couldn’t stay forever."

His words were calm, non-pressuring, but the temptation lingered like a beckoning wave. You mulled it over, your mind swimming with the responsibilities that weighed you down. You weren’t young anymore, at least not in the way that counted. The youthful impulsiveness of picking up and leaving whenever you felt like it had long passed. 

Now, you had cadets who looked up to you, a village that relied on your protection, and a life you couldn’t simply walk away from. The thought of leaving—even just for a few weeks—and returning to disaster haunted you.

Yet, here stood Shanks, the man who could never be caught, the one who had always captured your heart. He wasn’t crowding you, wasn’t demanding an answer. He was just… there, waiting, like always. He reached into his pocket and passed you a handkerchief. You hadn’t realized you still had remnants of your green face mask smeared across your cheek.

You took the handkerchief with a small, grateful nod, wiping away the last smudge of your mask. Shanks’ grin widened as he watched you, a mischievous glint lighting up his features.

"Lovely as ever," he said with that familiar charm.

You raised an eyebrow, disbelief clear on your face. "Really now?"

"Yes," he said, his tone softening into something more genuine. "Like the first day I saw you. You just keep getting better and better."

His words, while honest and genuine, cut deep. They were too real, too heartfelt for the situation you were both in. It hurt—knowing he meant every word. You let out a heavy sigh, your chest tightening as you voiced what was already understood. 

"That’s what makes this so painful, Shanks. We’ve been dancing around each other for years. How long can we keep playing this game?"

You both fell silent, a weight settling between you like the fog rolling off the sea. The unspoken truth was something everyone knew—from the Celestial Dragons to the mermaids deep in the ocean. Even the sea beasts you used to ride in your younger days knew: You and Shanks were in love. But there were laws to nature that even love couldn’t break. 

A bird and a fish could admire each other, even come to each other’s aid when needed, but they could never be together. One couldn’t fly, and the other couldn’t swim—not where it mattered.

"What a cruel twist of fate this is," you whispered, your voice barely carried by the wind.

Shanks nodded solemnly, his gaze never leaving yours. "Indeed."

The night carried on in its quiet way, the hum of distant waves filling the silence between you. You both sat there, not speaking, just watching each other, as if memorizing the lines of each other’s face.

His presence was like the sea—calm, vast, and eternal. You felt it deep in your bones, the pull toward him that was as strong as the tide, and yet you remained anchored here, to this place, this life.

Eventually, your eyes drifted back up to the sky, the stars glittering down on you like an endless sea of possibilities. The two of you were suspended between worlds, the stars and the ocean, the past and the future, and all you had was this fragile, fleeting moment.

Shanks followed your gaze, his hand brushing against yours in a light, almost accidental touch, as if he too was trying to capture something too precious to hold onto.

For now, that was enough.

There was no real use crying over it. You had both spent countless nights easing the sorrow of your situation in your own ways—Shanks drowning his thoughts at the bottom of another bottle, while you buried yourself in the work that defined you. The understanding he’d given you when you first saw this village in ruins so many years ago, when you decided to stay and rebuild it, still lingered between you. 

It had been a quiet acknowledgment, a silent support. He didn’t fight your decision, didn’t call it betrayal. Instead, he—and the rest of his crew—had simply accepted it, open arms waiting if you ever wanted to come back.

The night you became Vice Admiral was one you still laughed about, remembering their terrible disguises as they snuck into your ceremony. There was Benn Beckman in a comically oversized face mask, (you were all thankful that he wasn’t immediately recognized) Lucky Roux sporting a pair of ridiculous sunglasses, and Yasopp trying to hide his distinct dreads under a crooked wig. 

You’d all spent the evening in a local pub, singing sea shanties and dancing like no one was watching. The memories were a balm to the ache of what you couldn't have—the laughter, the carefree joy.

You smiled faintly now, the sea breeze playing with your hair as the memories came flooding back. Shanks had always been at the heart of it. You teased him mercilessly when you heard he’d taken in a daughter.

"Shanks, raising a kid? Who’s the poor soul responsible for keeping the both of you in line?" you had joked.

It was Benn, obviously. His face had lit up with pride as he spoke of Uta, and before, when he told you about a scrappy young boy named Luffy—the boy he believed would change the world.

And Luffy had. 

You’d come to know him well, hiding him and his crew whenever they came to pass. They always treated you like family, laughing and eating meals around your dining table, as if this was their home away from the seas. You adored Luffy’s brothers too—Ace, with his fiery spirit, and Sabo, with his quiet determination.

They’d both been reckless and had nearly gotten themselves killed more than once, leading to your stern lectures. But they always grinned sheepishly, knowing your scolding came from a place of deep affection.

Even Buggy—oh, Buggy. You picked fights with him like it was second nature, always at each other’s throats with bickering and insults. But despite the chaos, you were one of his oldest friends. The bond between you two ran deeper than either of you cared to admit.

When you’d heard about what he’d done to other villages, you punched him square in the nose. "Get it together, you ass hat," you growled, and he’d just sulked before eventually grumbling an apology.

And then there was Shanks' trust. His absolute faith in you, especially when it came to Uta. Whenever he had dangerous missions, he left her in your care, knowing no harm would come to her under your watch. The girl had become like a daughter to you, and even now, she sailed alongside Luffy, her spirit as free as the wind.

You entertained Mihawk whenever he happened to sail by, sharing quiet conversations and sparring matches under the moonlight. Perona would pop in with her gloomy charm, and you welcomed her with the same warmth you gave all of Luffy’s friends.

You had become a mother of sorts—a matriarch to all these misfit pirates who called the sea home. You were the unofficial wife of the Sea King, Shanks himself. Everyone saw it. The way he looked at you, the way you moved through his world without ever truly leaving yours.

And yet, despite it all, you didn’t rule by each other’s side.

The wind shifted, carrying the scent of salt and seaweed, and Shanks exhaled slowly beside you. His eyes were distant now, focused on the horizon, but there was a heaviness in his posture that wasn’t there moments ago. The weight of your shared history pressed down on him as much as it did on you. His hand rested loosely on his bottle of rum, fingers tracing the glass absentmindedly. He’d had countless battles, faced impossible odds, but nothing stung quite like this—the unspoken truth that neither of you could deny.

His voice was quieter when he spoke again, almost as if the words were too much to bear. "It does kill me, you know," he said, still staring out at the sea. "Not being able to hold you, not waking up with you by my side."

The confession hung between you, thick and painful. Your heart twisted, but you kept your eyes trained on the stars, refusing to let the emotion slip into your voice. "We have our duties," you replied softly. 

"Responsibilities of the same weight, just in different forms."

Your words were practical, almost cold in their truth. But beneath them lay the same yearning, the same ache that Shanks felt. He was right—it killed him. And it killed you too. But you both knew the rules of the game.

A fish couldn’t live in the sky, and a bird couldn’t swim in the depths.

You had your village, your cadets, your rank as Vice Admiral. He had the seas, his crew, the freedom to roam wherever the wind took him.

Your lives ran parallel but never quite intersected.

He shifted beside you, finally looking your way. There was a sadness in his eyes, one he never let anyone else see. "I never wanted to cage you," he murmured.

"But I never wanted to let you go either."

You turned to him then, meeting his gaze head-on. The raw vulnerability in his expression was too much. You reached out, your fingers brushing lightly against his cheek, a small gesture of comfort in the midst of all this uncertainty.

"I know," you whispered, your voice gentle but firm.

"I know."

For a long moment, you simply held his gaze, letting the sea breeze carry away the tension between you. There was no easy answer, no solution to the impossible situation you found yourselves in. 

The stars twinkled overhead, casting their gentle light over the quiet village. The night was cool, and the sea breeze carried the scent of salt, mingling with the earthy fragrance of the nearby forest. You sat beside Shanks on a grassy knoll, the two of you a striking contrast to the stillness around you. The village, your home, rested in peaceful slumber behind you, its rooftops barely visible in the low light. 

You could hear the distant crash of waves against the shore, and for a brief moment, it was as though the world belonged to just the two of you.

There was a time where you both had talked about marriage. Shanks had brought it up many times over the years, his playful grin turning serious when the conversation lingered too long. You could still feel the warmth of his words, the weight of his unspoken promises, and the quiet desperation behind his eyes each time he spoke about wanting to make you his.

And yet, here you were. Still not married. Still bound by the same chains that had kept you apart for so long. You glanced over at him now, taking in the sight of the man who held your heart so tightly. His red hair, wild as ever, blew in the breeze, and the familiar scar over his eye seemed to catch the light just so.

His eyes, those deep, piercing eyes, held a softness reserved only for you, but there was something darker there too—an unspoken sorrow.

“We could’ve been married by now,” Shanks said, his voice low, cutting through the stillness. His gaze was fixed on the stars, but you knew his thoughts were off somewhere far deeper. “But I couldn’t do that to you. Not when it would ruin your life, your career.”

The words stung, but they were true. Marriage to a pirate, especially one like Shanks, would be a death sentence for your career. You’d lose everything—your rank as Vice Admiral, your home, your people.

You’d be hunted down, imprisoned, forced to leave the people you loved, the people you swore to protect. Your entire life would be torn apart.

Worst of all, they’d use you to lure out Shanks and have him killed.  

And Shanks knew it. He always did.

“I love you too much to put you through that kind of pain,” he continued, his voice soft but resolute. His fingers fidgeted with the bottle of rum beside him, but there was a tension in his posture, a heaviness in his shoulders. He hated this as much as you did—this cruel twist of fate that kept you apart.

You sighed, turning your gaze back to the stars. They twinkled innocently above, indifferent to the turmoil below. “I know,” you said quietly. “But I hate the thought of us being this… couple that can never truly be together. Not for more than a night.”

The thought weighed on you constantly—the idea that you could never have a life together. That you would always be bound by your respective worlds, able to steal moments but never truly share them. You had responsibilities. You had a village to protect, cadets who relied on you, a duty that couldn’t be abandoned. And Shanks had his crew, his mission, his endless journey across the seas.

But there was more to it. You knew Shanks. He was a man of action, a man who followed his heart. And in his heart, he refused to leave this world without being joined with you before God, as he had said countless times. The idea of dying without you as his wife was a torment he didn’t express often, but you knew it haunted him.

“What if something happened to me?” he asked suddenly, his voice thick with the weight of unspoken fears. He looked at you now, his eyes full of emotion.

“What if I died? You wouldn’t have any legal right to me. You’d be left with nothing. Unless…” His voice trailed off, and a bitter smile crossed his lips. “Unless the crew managed to pull off some ‘common law marriage’ scheme."

"But we’re more than that.”

You bit your lip, feeling the tightness in your chest. The thought of losing him, of having no claim to him, no right to mourn him as his wife, was unbearable. You were worth more than that. Your love was worth more than that. You weren’t some fleeting romance or a temporary connection.

You were each other’s heart and soul, two people who had shared years of laughter, hardship, and devotion.

And Shanks wanted to make it official. He wanted to make you his woman, his wife, and let the world know that you were his in every sense of the word.

He reached out then, his hand resting gently on yours. His touch was warm, familiar, and it steadied the storm brewing inside you. “I want to make you an honest woman,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I want to stand before God and make you mine, for real. No more games, no more pretending we’re something we’re not.”

You looked down at your hands, his fingers intertwining with yours, and the warmth of his palm grounded you. He had always been your anchor, the one person who could make everything feel right, even when the world seemed against you. But this—this was bigger than anything you could’ve imagined.

“Shanks,” you began, your voice wavering.

His grip tightened ever so slightly, his gaze intense as he leaned in closer. “I know. And that’s why I’ve never pushed it. But if there’s a way—if we could find a way—"

"I’d give up everything to have you by my side.”

The raw emotion in his voice, the sheer vulnerability, tore at your heart. This man, this legendary pirate who commanded the seas, who had fought wars and won impossible battles, was here, willing to risk it all for you. And you… you were stuck between two worlds, two impossible choices.

The stars seemed to dim in that moment, as if even they felt the weight of your decision. The village behind you, quiet and peaceful, stood as a reminder of all that you had built, all that you would lose. But beside you sat the man who had claimed your heart long ago, the man who wanted nothing more than to make you his forever.

“What do we do?” you whispered, your voice barely audible against the sound of the waves.

Shanks smiled faintly, the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and shook his head. “We figure it out, like we always do.”

And with that, he pulled you close, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You leaned into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest, the strength in his embrace. You could lose yourself in the warmth of his presence, in the silent promise of the future you both wanted but could never fully grasp.

You pull away from Shanks' embrace slowly, feeling the warmth of his arm linger on your skin as you give him a small squeeze of reassurance. His presence, solid and comforting, is something you’ve known for so long, yet each time you step out of his hold, it feels like a tug on your heart.

With a soft sigh, you turn to face the open sky again, the stars above you glittering like a sea of diamonds.

“I could never ask you to abandon the sea,” you say quietly, breaking the stillness between you, “the same way you never asked me to abandon these people.”

The weight of those words sinks in as you reach up to take the curlers out of your hair. It’s a familiar routine, one you’ve done countless times. Yet tonight, with Shanks by your side, it feels different. There’s a certain tenderness in the air, a shared silence that speaks louder than any words ever could.

His rough, calloused fingers soon join yours, gently separating the pins and pulling each curler free. You let him help, allowing yourself to relish in the intimacy of this quiet moment.

One by one, the curlers come out, leaving your hair feeling lighter, bouncier, freer. Shanks hums softly, an old sea shanty you both know, as he carefully runs his fingers through your strands, styling it the way you like. The way he likes. His touch is surprisingly gentle for someone who’s lived such a rugged life, and you close your eyes for a moment, savoring the warmth of his hands in your hair.

There’s a stillness between you, but the energy that passes through his fingertips speaks volumes. You feel it in the way his fingers brush lightly against your scalp, in the unspoken affection he shows through every careful motion. 

And all the while, there’s that look in his eyes again—the one you hate. That mix of longing and resignation, as if he’s silently saying goodbye to something he knows he can never truly keep.

Finally, when he’s satisfied with your hair, he drops his hand, letting it fall to his side, but he doesn’t look away. His gaze locks with yours, and for a moment, it feels like the world has stopped.

The stars, the village, the sea—all of it fades into the background, leaving just the two of you suspended in this fragile, bittersweet moment.

You can see the question in his eyes, the same one that’s been lingering between you for years: How much time do we have left? How many more moments like this can we steal before the world inevitably pulls us apart again? 

It’s a question neither of you can answer, but it’s always there, lurking beneath every shared glance, every touch, every word left unsaid.

Below, you can hear the sounds of the crew bustling in your kitchen. Their laughter and chatter filter through the open window, grounding you in the present. Plates clink together as they wash the dishes, their voices teasing and jovial as they talk about what they’ll bring you from the market tomorrow. 

You can almost picture them in your mind—scrubbing your pans with exaggerated care, making a mess of your kitchen, and scribbling down a list of things to restock your pantry. It brings a small smile to your lips, knowing they’re looking out for you in their own way.

The crew’s presence is a comfort, a reminder that you had a family on the seas. A family you’ve built with Shanks and his men. They’d never judged you for staying behind, for choosing a life of responsibility and duty over adventure. They understood you, accepted you, celebrated you, and always welcomed you back with open arms whenever you needed them.

They were your family too, in a way that was different from the villagers you protected.

Shanks, watching your expression soften, finally breaks the silence. “You know they’ll be back tomorrow, right?” he says, his voice low and teasing. “Probably with more supplies than you’ll know what to do with.”

You chuckle softly, breaking the tension as you shake your head. “I can already see it—half the market will be in my kitchen by morning.”

He laughs, a rich sound that rumbles deep in his chest, and it eases some of the ache in your heart.

Shanks’ laughter fades into a quiet hum, the sound trailing off as the two of you sit in the comforting stillness. Together, you glance over your garden, your gaze sweeping over the large pumpkins resting snugly in their beds of soil, their vibrant orange hue a testament to the months of careful tending. 

The last of your harvest is waiting to be gathered—a few stubborn tomatoes clinging to their vines, and some squash ready to be plucked before the first frost. Despite the season's end, your wildflowers still bloom with surprising vitality, their colorful petals swaying gently in the cool evening breeze, defying the inevitable chill creeping in.

Shanks shifts beside you, looking down at your small patch of land as though he’s taking mental notes. He’s never been much of a gardener, but he appreciates the life you've built here. He tilts his head thoughtfully before turning to you with a familiar grin.

“I’ll clean your gutters tomorrow,” he offers with a hint of amusement in his voice, knowing full well you’d never ask him outright.

You smile softly in return, murmuring a quiet, "Thank you," that lingers between you like a secret. But then, silence falls again. The two of you begin to search for excuses to prolong the moment, your eyes wandering over the garden and the stars, avoiding the looming reality of parting.

You pull your knees up to your chest, resting your chin atop them, making yourself smaller as the cool night air gently settles around your shoulders.

Shanks moves beside you, his hand lifting slightly as though to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, but he hesitates. Instead, his fingers shift course, and he cups your cheek with the softest touch. His thumb moves in slow circles over the apple of your cheek, the roughness of his skin a contrast to the tender way he holds you.

It’s such a simple gesture, yet it carries with it a thousand unspoken words, memories, and years of shared longing.

His touch lingers, pulling your gaze upward, and you meet his eyes. For a moment, the world seems to fade away. The years flash before you like a slideshow—quick scenes of laughter, of whispered promises, of stolen moments that felt too fleeting.

You can see it in his eyes too, the weight of time, the shared joy and heartache, all caught in that brief exchange. It overwhelms you, the thought of how much time has passed, how much you’ve both given and lost to the lives you’ve chosen.

Before you can stop yourself, you crawl into his arms, your body moving on instinct as you bury your face against his chest. His arms immediately wrap around you, pulling you close, holding you as though you might disappear at any moment. Shanks doesn’t say a word, and for that, you’re grateful. He understands. 

He always does.

You feel the tightness in your throat, and as your tears begin to gather, you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping to keep them at bay. But it’s no use. The warmth of Shanks’ embrace, the quiet hum of the night, the distant sounds of the crew still lingering in the kitchen—it all presses down on you, and a tear slips free, soaking into the fabric of his shirt. You know he feels it, but he doesn’t comment. He just holds you tighter.

Shanks rests his chin atop your head, his breath slow and steady, but you can feel the slight tremble in his arms. He’s fighting his own tears, just like you. The weight of all the years, all the distance, all the longing—it’s too much for either of you to bear alone, but together, in this small stolen moment, it’s almost manageable.

A breeze rustles through the trees, sending a few stray leaves fluttering down into the garden below. The wildflowers sway again, their petals catching the moonlight in a delicate dance. Above, the stars continue to shine, as if oblivious to the heavy silence that hangs between you.

The world continues on, indifferent to your pain, but in Shanks’ arms, it feels like, just for a moment, the two of you are the only ones in it.

Neither of you speaks. You don’t need to. The tears you shed, the way you cling to him, the way he holds you close—all of it says more than words ever could. Neither of you wants to break the fragile moment, both knowing that the weight of your responsibilities keeps you from being together in the way your hearts long for.

Suddenly, with a shift of movement, Shanks stands, taking you with him in a single fluid motion. His arm slides under your bottom, steadying you as he bounces you up to secure your position.

You yelp in surprise, wrapping your arms around his neck and instinctively hooking your legs around his waist. A laugh bubbles from your lips, despite the lingering sadness, as he effortlessly carries you down from the roof.

The soft crunch of grass beneath his boots fills the quiet air, mingling with the distant sound of waves crashing against the rocky shore.

Shanks walks for what feels like forever, carrying you down the steep path toward the beach. You keep your eyes closed, resting your head against his shoulder, listening to the rhythm of his steps and the gentle lull of the ocean.

When you finally open your eyes, you see Shanks has a small dinghy set up near the water, a modest lantern flickering at its side. He sets you down gently, taking a step back before bowing dramatically, a roguish smile playing at his lips. 

“My lady, would you do me the honor,” he says in mock formality, “of joining me on the water tonight?”

Your heart flutters, a mix of excitement and hesitation swelling in your chest. The responsible part of you screams that you have work tomorrow, that you could be seen. But your heart—oh, your heart aches to say yes. After all, so little happens here, and no one’s likely keeping watch. You gaze at the man you’ve loved for more than half your life, his eyes shimmering with the moonlight and something deeper.

“How could I refuse such a gracious offer from a fine gentleman like yourself?” you respond playfully, your lips curving into a smile.

Shanks grins and takes your hand, helping you step into the small boat before he pushes off from the shore. The dinghy rocks gently as the ocean cradles it, the sound of water lapping against the hull blending with the night’s peaceful rhythm. Soon, the lantern’s glow is the only thing illuminating the quiet waters as the two of you drift farther from the beach.

The moonlight glistens on the surface of the ocean, catching the peaks of the waves like scattered diamonds. The soft, silvery light bathes the world around you in a dreamlike glow, and for a moment, it feels as though time has slowed, leaving just you, Shanks, and the sea. 

You dip your fingers into the cool water, feeling its gentle caress against your skin. Shanks chuckles softly beside you, warning, “Mind your hands.”

You splash him lightly in response, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. The two of you share a quiet laugh, the tension easing as you lose yourselves in the serenity of the ocean.

'This,' you think, is what you’ve always loved most about sailing—the way the world transforms under the night sky, how the ocean becomes a tranquil mirror reflecting the stars above. It’s a reminder of how vast and beautiful the world is, even in its quiet moments.

Leaning over the side of the boat, you gaze down into the water, marveling at the world below. The fish and sea creatures seem to be sleeping, floating peacefully just beneath the surface. Everything feels so calm, so different from the chaos of the day. The ocean’s gentle lull, the stars twinkling above—it’s all mesmerizing.

But for Shanks, the real beauty isn’t the ocean or the stars—it’s you. He watches as you lose yourself in the wonder of the world around you, your eyes alight with curiosity and joy, your smile so radiant it could rival the sun. 

You don’t even realize it, but to him, you’ve always been the most ethereal sight, the one thing that makes this vast, untamable world feel like home.

The boat drifts gently on the quiet waters, the two of you nestled against each other as the lantern’s soft glow casts a warm circle of light. The ocean hums in the background, the sound of the waves gently slapping against the sides of the dinghy, while overhead, the stars twinkle like tiny beacons of light in the vast night sky.

It feels as though the world beyond the sea doesn’t exist, and for a while, you both simply enjoy the tranquility.

But soon, conversation naturally flows between you and Shanks, the easy back-and-forth of two souls who have shared a lifetime of stories and adventures. Luffy comes up first, his boundless energy and unshakable optimism always making you smile. Then there’s Ace, Uta, Sabo—each memory shared with fondness and a tinge of sadness as you recall the times spent with them, wondering where life will lead them next.

Shanks talks about Buggy, and you can’t help but chuckle at his long-time friend’s antics. “Buggy’s going to find the One Piece before any of us,” you tease, leaning back into Shanks' warmth. “Can’t wait to see the look on your face when he does.”

Shanks grins, shaking his head. “If that clown gets there first, I might just retire early,” he jokes, the humor in his voice laced with the familiarity of an old friendship.

Then, as conversations between you often do, the topic shifts to the grand mystery that’s captivated the world—the One Piece. You tilt your head, watching the moonlight dance over the water, your thoughts racing with ridiculous theories. 

“You know,” you begin, your tone half-serious, “I think the real reason Benn’s wanted dead is because of his past in the Marines.”

Shanks raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Go on…”

You lean in, voice dropping conspiratorially. “I think Benn knows what the One Piece really is.”

Shanks smirks, amused by your sudden shift into wild theorizing. “Oh? And what’s that?”

You can’t help but grin, the ridiculousness of your idea bubbling up. “It’s a wax strip.”

He blinks, staring at you like you’ve lost your mind. “A… wax strip?”

“Yep,” you say, trying to keep a straight face. “You see, back in the day, there was this legendary sleepover with Monkey D. Dragon, Gold Roger, and Whitebeard. They tried this beauty regiment, you know, to keep their rugged looks under control. But something went horribly wrong, and now Dragon’s been walking around without eyebrows ever since.”

Shanks stares at you, and you can see the moment the absurdity of your theory sinks in. His eyes widen in disbelief before a bark of laughter escapes him. “Wait— so Dragon lost his eyebrows during a sleepover with Roger?!”

You nod solemnly. “Exactly. And the One Piece is the last remaining proof of that night—a wax strip containing Dragon’s eyebrows. That’s why they had to execute Roger, to keep the secret from getting out!”

Shanks doubles over, his laughter coming in great, booming waves. His whole body shakes with it, and he grips the edge of the boat, trying to steady himself.

“I— I can’t—” he chokes out between gasps for breath. His face is flushed, tears of laughter threatening to spill from his eyes.

You can’t help but join him, your own giggles bubbling up as you watch him lose it completely. You let go of the oars to clutch your stomach, trying not to tip the boat over as the two of you howl with laughter.

“I’m serious!” you manage to get out, though the ridiculousness of your own theory makes it hard to keep your voice steady.

Shanks wheezes, wiping a hand across his face. “Eyebrows… eyebrows… with a wax strip!”

He shakes his head, barely able to breathe as he leans back against the side of the boat, still snickering.

“I swear, only you could come up with something like that.”

The boat sways gently beneath you as you both try to regain control, and you grab the oars, taking over steering the dinghy while Shanks continues to laugh. You glance back at him, shaking your head in mock frustration.

“Well, someone’s gotta steer while you recover from my genius theory.”

Shanks sits up, trying to catch his breath. His eyes are still sparkling with mirth, the solemnity that had clouded them earlier completely wiped away by your absurdity. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and looks at you with a grin that’s both affectionate and teasing. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

You shrug, still chuckling. “Maybe. But I’ve kept you entertained all these years, haven’t I?”

He nods, his laughter finally dying down, but his smile remains. “That you have.” His voice softens, and the mood between you shifts slightly, the laughter giving way to something quieter, more intimate.

Moonlight reflects off the water, the gentle rocking of the boat creating a sense of calm that wraps around you both. As you dip your fingers into the cool water again, feeling the sea’s steady pulse, you can’t help but smile to yourself.

The beauty of the night, the ridiculousness of your conversation, and the way Shanks looks at you—everything feels perfect, like the ocean has swallowed up all the heaviness of the world and left you with just this moment.

And though Shanks has stopped laughing, he’s still watching you, his gaze filled with that familiar warmth. The sight of you leaning over the boat, eyes full of wonder as you take in the night sky and the calm waters, never fails to amaze him.

To him, you’re the real treasure in this world, your joy and curiosity shining brighter than any moon or stars.

Soon, it becomes even later, and you both return to your house. The house is still as you and Shanks quietly slip through the front door, the faint scent of saltwater and sea clinging to your clothes.

The soft sound of your slippers barely echoes as you both tiptoe through the rooms, careful not to wake the sleeping crew scattered across your kitchen and dining room. 

Blankets and pillows have been pulled from the guest closet, and you can make out the tangled mess of limbs, chests rising and falling in peaceful slumber. Someone’s snoring lightly, and the soft murmur of sleep-talking drifts through the air as you navigate past them.

You exchange a glance with Shanks, and a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. It feels like sneaking in after a long adventure, the comforting sense of home mingling with the reminder of the fleeting time you have together. His hand brushes yours, a fleeting touch that anchors you in the moment as you both climb the stairs with careful steps, finally making your way to your bedroom.

Once inside, you close the door gently behind you. The familiar scent of your sheets, the worn, cozy blankets, and the soft light filtering through the curtains create an intimate cocoon. Shanks shrugs off his coat, hanging it on the bedpost, and you can’t help but grin at the casual ease of it all.

For a moment, it feels like he’s never left.

“Have you taken any lovers since I last saw you?” you tease, your voice low and playful as you sit on the edge of the bed, pulling off his boots.

“I keep telling you that it wasn’t like that with Mihawk!” Shanks replied, his voice hushed but carrying a laugh.

“So you say,” you quip, eyes twinkling with mischief. But there’s no jealousy in your words, only the shared understanding that the bond between you both could never be betrayed.

You both giggle, the sound soft and intimate, knowing full well that neither of you would ever stray. Shanks stands, stepping over to your dresser where your anchor earrings sit. He plucks them up and then reaches into his pocket, retrieving a new set of earrings shaped like a ship's helm. Without a word, he places them next to your old ones, the subtle gesture saying more than words ever could. 

A piece of him, left with you.

You crawl back under the covers, the weight of the day catches up with you, the sea breeze still lingering on your skin. Shanks settles beside you, watching you with that ever-present glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

You watch him, a warm feeling blooming in your chest. He turns back to you, and before he can slip under the covers, you reach out, cupping his face with your hands. Your fingers poke and prod at him, squishing his cheeks in playful teasing.

His skin is warm under your touch, rough from years at sea, but familiar. You even pick at his scruff a bit. He squints at you in mock offense, his lips curling into a smirk.

“Go ahead, bite me,” you challenge with a grin, your voice barely above a whisper but playful nonetheless.

Shanks chuckles through his nose, his teeth flashing in the low light as he leans in and gently snaps his jaws at you, catching your finger between his teeth in the softest, most careful bite. He holds it there for a second before kissing it gently, the warmth of his lips sending a shiver down your spine.

You pull your hand back and snuggle down into the mattress, pulling the blankets up to your chin. Shanks joins you, his strong arms slipping around you as the two of you settle into the comfort of each other’s presence. His body is warm and familiar, his scent a mix of the ocean and the faint hint of rum.

The silence stretches out, peaceful but heavy with unspoken words. Shanks’ voice breaks it first, quiet and reflective.

“I’ll be gone in the morning.”

You swallow, your throat tightening at the inevitable. “I know,” you whisper, staring at the dark ceiling.

He shifts beside you, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm. “I’m going to miss you,” he says, his voice barely above a murmur, filled with a tenderness that makes your chest ache.

“As will I,” you manage to say, though the words feel too small for the weight of what you feel.

A beat of silence passes before Shanks speaks again, this time his voice softer, more serious. “Can I tell you something?”

You turn your head to look at him, your eyes searching his face in the dim light. “Yes?”

He hesitates for just a moment, and when he speaks, his words are laced with raw emotion.

“I love you.”

The confession makes your heart clench, the quiet sincerity of it hitting you like a wave. You’ve known it, felt it in the way he’s always treated you, but hearing it spoken aloud—especially now, on the edge of another departure—makes part of you want to cry.

“I… I love you too,” you whisper, your voice trembling despite yourself.

Shanks’ hand moves to your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that escapes before you even realize it’s there. “In case I die tomorrow,” he says softly, his voice barely a breath, “I want you to hear it one more time.”

“I love you.”

The words hang in the air between you, and you can’t help but bury your face against his chest, trying to hold back the sob that threatens to escape. His arms tighten around you, and you can feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, grounding you in the present.

You close your eyes, willing the moment to last, even as the heaviness of his impending departure settles over both of you like a storm cloud waiting to burst.

The morning light pours through your window, casting long shadows on the wooden floor. You stir, reaching out to the empty space beside you, and, as expected, find it cold.

Shanks is gone, true to his word. You sigh softly, sitting up in bed, pulling the covers around you for just a moment longer. But then the smell of freshly baked bread wafts through the house, and your curiosity draws you downstairs.

In the kitchen, everything is pristine. The countertops gleam, your pantry is fully restocked, and a neat stack of notes sits on the stove. You pick one up, recognizing Benn’s precise, no-nonsense handwriting.

A brief note, polite as ever, informing you that everything was taken care of: your gutters cleaned, garden weeded, and the trash dutifully taken out. 

You smile at the thoroughness of it all, imagining Shanks probably supervising the entire crew to ensure everything was done right. Your eyes drift to the corner of the room where your favorite scarf used to hang, only to notice it’s missing.

In its place, a vibrant red sash and a neatly wrapped box for your pistols now rest, a clear sign that Shanks had left a part of himself behind once more.

You pick up the red sash and hold it for a moment, feeling the soft fabric between your fingers. Then, with a sigh, you begin to get dressed, opting for something simple at first—a starch white blouse that feels cool against your skin, paired with a navy blue pencil skirt.

But as time ticks away, the pressure of duty calls, and you finally surrender to the full uniform. You button up the military jacket with its crisp white fabric, pull on your cap, and lace up your combat boots.

The final touch is the red sash, which you tie snugly around your waist for comfort, a small piece of Shanks’ world blending with your own.

Stepping outside, the morning air feels crisp, the breeze carrying the faint scent of the sea. You make the familiar walk down the hill, your boots crunching over the dirt path, your thoughts scattered between Shanks’ departure and the day ahead. As you near the village, however, you’re met with an unusual commotion. There’s a buzz of excitement in the marketplace, people whispering and pointing toward the docks.

You pick up your pace, weaving through the crowded market, dodging vendors and children playing in the streets. The sound of hurried feet matches the beat of your heart as you make your way to the docks. And then you see it: the unmistakable sight of Admiral Garp’s great ship, its massive sails billowing as it rolls into the harbor.

The towering figure of Garp stands at the helm, his broad shoulders and unmistakable grin visible even from this distance.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, relief washing over you. With a quick salute to the other marines at the docks, you leap onto the ship, barely giving the cadets time to register your presence. They jump aside as you dart past them, your eyes fixed on the familiar figure ahead.

Before you can even greet him properly, Garp’s arms are around you, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. His laugh is loud and booming, the kind that shakes your entire frame. His massive hand slaps your back with affection, the force almost sending you stumbling. 

“There you are!” Garp beams, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I was starting to think I’d have to drag you down from that hill of yours.”

You chuckle breathlessly, your ribs aching wonderfully from the sheer force of his hug. 

“You know I wouldn’t miss you coming into town, old man.”

Before you can say more, you feel a small weight cling to your hip. Looking down, you see a pair of tiny arms wrapped around your waist. A bright pair of curious eyes look up at you, and a grin splits your face as you recognize the small boy holding onto you.

Your heart swells as you see the familiar bright eyes of your seven-year-old son, his small arms wrapping tightly around your waist. His fiery red hair, unmistakably like his father’s, catches the sunlight, creating a soft halo around his cherubic face. His smile mirrors yours, full of joy and innocence. 

Not far behind him is your oldest daughter, walking with that confident stride you’ve seen in yourself for years. She’s fifteen now, her auburn hair rich and vibrant, carefully styled the half braided way you taught her, cascading down her shoulders in waves.

Her face is your mirror image, except for her eyes—either wide, deep pools like the night sky reflected in the ocean or sharp and cunning, with a twinkle of mischievous intent that’s all her own.

Or maybe a repressed part of you. 

“Mom!” your son exclaims, his small hand reaching for yours. You scoop him up in one swift motion, hugging him close to your heart. Your daughter sidles up next to you, her arms crossing playfully as she surveys the scene with that knowing smirk.

“Miss me?” you ask, ruffling your son’s hair and pressing a quick kiss to his temple. He giggles, nodding vigorously before trying to wriggle free.

“Of course, they missed you,” Garp chimes in, a grin on his face as he watches the reunion. “Though I think they enjoy ‘grandpa’ time more than they let on.”

You give Garp a grateful nod. “Thanks again for keeping them busy. I know how much they love running around with you.”

Your daughter laughs, her voice ringing with a mix of sarcasm and sincerity. “Oh yeah, grandpa has the best stories, especially the ones about how he used to throw cannonballs at people.”

You shoot her a look that says behave, but she just winks at you, flipping her auburn hair over her shoulder. Her brother, ever eager to help, adjusts the strap of her large bag that he’s somehow decided to carry for her. She, in turn, holds his much smaller backpack, their roles hilariously reversed as they shuffle beside you.

You three start the walk back home, their small hands in yours, swinging gently as they chatter about their adventures with "grandpa."

Your son’s voice is filled with awe as he recounts how Garp taught him to dodge imaginary cannonballs, while your daughter’s tone is more measured, full of wit as she talks about navigating the ship’s rigging like a pro.

“I could totally be a pirate, you know,” your daughter muses, casting a sidelong glance at you, her auburn hair gleaming in the sun.

“Not like a bad one, just… you know, one of those good ones, like Uncle Luffy.”

You smile knowingly, squeezing her hand. “A pirate, huh? You know your dad wouldn’t be too happy to hear that.”

She shrugs, a mischievous glint in her eye. “He’s not here to say no, is he?”

Your son giggles at that, tugging on your arm as he jumps over a small rock.

"But I’m gonna be a marine! Just like you, Mama. And fight bad guys!"

His enthusiasm is contagious, and you can't help but laugh, thinking how they’ve inherited the best and most chaotic traits from both you and Shanks.

As you reach the house, the familiar creak of the door welcomes you home. Your son immediately kicks off his shoes, darting into the living room while your daughter takes a more measured approach, carefully setting down her bag and tidying up the space as if it’s her own personal domain.

“I’ll get changed,” your daughter calls out, already halfway up the stairs with your son at her heels.

“Don’t take too long,” you respond, your voice trailing after them. You take a moment to breathe, the house suddenly quiet save for the faint sounds of your children settling into their routine.

Your gaze falls on the kitchen counter, where the notes from Shanks' crew are stacked neatly. You pick them up, glancing at the distinct handwriting. These notes are a secret you’ve kept close to your heart, carefully hidden from prying eyes.

Not even Shanks knows about the of half of life you’ve built here. The villagers think you’re married to a man who works overseas. Only a few, like Mihawk and Luffy’s crew, have come close to uncovering the truth.

With the notes safely tucked into your purse, you can’t help but glance around the house—a place where every corner holds a memory of you and the kids. It’s a life filled with quiet joys, secrets woven into the fabric of your everyday life, a delicate balance between worlds.

The thought of Shanks lingers in the back of your mind, but for now, it's pushed aside as you focus on your children. They’re your best-kept secret, a legacy of love and strength that connects you to both the sea and the land, as you’ve always been torn between the two.

You watch as your daughter, Mariana, comes bounding down the stairs, her curly auburn hair bouncing with every step. She looks like a flash of sunlight, her bright eyes scanning the room as she carries her silver sandals in hand. You can’t help but smile—she’s always been so full of life, a perfect mix of your stubbornness and her father’s boundless energy. Her bare feet pad softly against the wooden floor, and she glances at you with a mischievous grin.

“Mom, are there any snacks?” she asks, already half-knowing the answer.

You tilt your head toward the back door, giving her a playful look.

"There’s still fruit from the yard."

“Score!” she exclaims, her excitement bubbling over as she practically skips toward the back door, already dreaming of the sweet taste of ripe peaches.

You watch as she swings the screen door open with a flick of her wrist, the sunlight filtering through and casting a golden glow over her figure. Her silhouette looks so much like you at that age, yet there’s something else—something wild and untamed about her that reminds you of the sea. 

It reminds you of him.

You sigh, feeling that familiar weight pressing on your chest. Shanks doesn’t know. He’s never known. And every day, as Mariana grows more curious and your son becomes more aware, the burden of that secret becomes heavier. You’ve managed to avoid the question time and time again, especially with Mariana. 

She’s smart—too smart for her own good—and every so often, her sharp, inquisitive nature leads her to ask about her father. You’ve always found a way to deflect, to change the subject, but with each passing year, it feels like you’re running out of excuses.

Your son, on the other hand, barely asks. He’s content in his little world, more attached to you and the village than Mariana ever has been. But that doesn’t lessen the guilt you feel. The worst part of it all? 

You’ve never told Shanks. Not one word.

He doesn’t know that he has a daughter who shares his vibrant spirit, or a son with his piercing red hair. 

He doesn’t know that the two children running through your home, laughing, playing, and growing up in the safety of this small village, are his.

And how could he?

How could you shatter his world with the truth? He’s worked his whole life to protect the seas, to maintain the balance of power, to keep the chaos at bay. You know what kind of man Shanks is—if he knew, he’d give it all up in a heartbeat to be here. To be with you. To raise them.

And who would be there to keep peace in the seas then?

You loved the village, the safety it provided. It was your sanctuary, a place where you didn’t have to worry about your children being held for ransom or hunted like some sick prize because of who their father is.

But every time you think of that last visit with Shanks, when he stood in your kitchen, laughing with you and stealing glances like he always had, it took everything in you not to crumble. To not bow and confess everything—the sins, the secrets, the life you’ve hidden from him for so long.

A part of you wanted to. You wanted to fall at his feet and tell him the truth, to take his hand and show him the family he didn’t know he had. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

"Mom, I'm staying outside!" Mariana’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You look up, seeing her standing by the back door, already slipping her sandals on.

"Don’t go too far!" you call after her, though you know she’s probably already halfway back to the peach  tree, her favorite spot in the yard. You smile despite the ache in your heart.

Mariana, so full of life, is your pride and joy. She’s quick-witted and cunning, always one step ahead of everyone, including you. It’s the same kind of cleverness you’ve seen in Shanks a thousand times, the way he always seemed to anticipate what was coming before anyone else did.

You wonder how long it’ll be before she pieces it all together—the resemblance, the stories, the red hair her brother shares with the infamous pirate.

As she disappears into the garden, you run a hand over the kitchen counter, absently picking at the sash left by Shanks. Your eyes scan the outside, but your mind is elsewhere. Shanks is out there, somewhere, unaware of the legacy he’s left behind.

The truth lingers in the air, unspoken, but ever-present. And one day, you know, you won’t be able to keep it hidden any longer.

Mariana, your star of the sea, was already off in the yard, likely sitting high in the branches of the peach tree with her sandals discarded in the grass. Her laughter echoed faintly through the open window, blending with the soft rustle of the breeze. 

Inside, Luca, your moon, was making his usual descent—sliding down the banister of the stairs, too lazy to take them step by step. His red hair caught the light from the window as he landed with a thud, standing proudly before you with a mischievous grin plastered across his face.

“Oh, Luca,” you murmur, shaking your head with affection as he strides over to you, his chest puffed out. “What am I going to do with you?”

Luca, your greatest helper when it came to finding the “best” rocks on the beach. Who was very bit as in awe of the world around you. Who was skittish of thunder but always ready and willing to fight for his sister. His little arms always holding some wild creature that he’s found while exploring. Picking twigs out of his sister's hair while he himself was covered in sand.

The little one who had once dyed his hair blue using paint because he was curious about how it would look. 

If you had to pick him from a line up of other children with a resemblance to Shanks you’d choose this cool little dude that has a heart as big as his father. 

Luca doesn’t answer, only beams up at you with those bright eyes—your eyes—and you scoop him up into your arms despite his whines.

His legs kick in mock protest, but you kiss his round cheeks anyway, peppering his face with affection. His giggles fill the room, that sweet, innocent laughter that tugs at your heart.

“Stop! I’m a man!” he squeals between fits of laughter, trying to wriggle out of your embrace.

“Oh, a man, are you?” you tease, holding him tighter and pressing another kiss to his forehead. “Well, this man is still my baby boy.”

You hold him close, feeling the warmth of his small body against yours, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.

Just you and your children in the safety of your home, far away from the dangers of the sea. You smooth a hand over Luca’s red hair, wondering—if Shanks could see this, if he could see how much Luca looks like him—would he even need you to say the words?

Raising them without him had been the hardest thing you’d ever done. It felt wrong, every lie, every evasion of the truth, every time you had to cover up why you couldn’t tell him.

You’d sent aid when you couldn’t be there for a fight, feigned illness or some convenient excuse when he’d visited on nights the children were staying in your room.

On those nights, you’d stayed downstairs, telling Shanks it was for old times’ sake, a ‘slumber party’ for the two of you, when in reality, you were protecting the secret that grew harder to contain with each passing day.

You’d felt Benn’s eyes on you, too. How many times had he nearly stumbled upon the bottles, pacifiers, and toys you’d hastily hidden? Maybe he already knew and was keeping your secret, but you’d never asked. The fewer people who knew, the safer your children would be.

Luca’s laughter dies down, and he nuzzles into you, resting his head on your shoulder. The weight of his small form in your arms feels like the weight of the world at times, the burden of secrets and lies pressing down on you. But here, now, in this moment, it’s just you and your son.

You don’t hear the footsteps outside. You don’t hear the soft creak of your front door opening or the steady sound of boots on the wooden floor. You're too wrapped up in Luca, kissing his cheeks again, earning another round of giggles. It’s only when you hear your name being called—familiar, yet unexpected—that your heart skips a beat.

“My love?”

The voice is unmistakable, and your breath catches in your throat as you turn, still holding Luca in your arms. There, standing in the entryway, is Shanks.

The room seems to shrink, and time feels like it slows to a crawl. Shanks stands in the doorway, sunlight framing his figure, his usual carefree smile faltering slightly as his eyes land on you and Luca.

There’s a moment of silence, thick with unspoken words and heavy with the weight of what you’ve hidden for so long. Luca, oblivious to the tension, wriggles in your arms, his small voice breaking through the quiet. 

“Mama, who’s that?”

Your heart pounds in your chest as Shanks’ gaze shifts to Luca, his eyes widening slightly. For a moment, he looks at Luca—really looks at him—and you can see the realization starting to dawn on his face. The same red hair, your sweet grin, the spark of life in his eyes.

“y/n…”

End of part 1, second half to be posted 09/09/24

Pppppssssssssssttttttt,

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[cokou]

𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 OCT 1: ARRANGED MARRIAGE # Roronoa Zoro┆Fem! Reader

Request ✉* Hi, if you’re open can I request Zoro for Oct.1 Rough sex? And female reader?If not that’s ok, I just wanted to say I love your writing and I love the work u put into making your posts aesthetic <3 Make sure to take care of urself :)

Warnings ✉* Rough sex, arranged marriage, Shit writing

WC ✉* 978 words┆5,304 characters

It only had been a week— a week of meeting this man, who you were fended off to by your 'parents'. A week of getting to know each other forcefully. A week of you trying your best to just disappear and end this suffering put between the two of you. A week of him convincing himself that not even a single attention should be provided for you, he really tried his best.

He grits his teeth to your agreeing words, which makes it much more heavier to swallow such a thick throwback from you.

"I'm not giving you a single attention just because we're married."

"I never said you should."

And yet, after all those hardships that you had put to end this, only for you to end up on his bed as he ravishes you into the thin, silky bedsheet inside his room. His bed would most likely give out soon as it squeeks everytime his hard thrusts comes along your skin once again.

With his hips starting to stutter from the rough pressure and friction to please you, he held you in place in order to keep up. Your hips buckle for more into him, forcibly making him go deeper inside your cervix. His tip remarkably bullying your cervix enough for it to end up bruising by tomorrow morning.

It's hard, he makes it soo hard to take him. Zoro full well knows that he himself is big, Zoro is a monster when it comes down from there and he knows it. It's hard, specially when his thrusts are rough yet slow ones. Yet, you take him like you were granted to him from a genie itself, that is what makes it exciting for him.

Your hole was typically stretched as big as it could to fit Zoro, it hurted a few minutes ago and was instantly replaced with pleasure. Not only that, but your core was incredibly squeezing him so hard that it makes it hard for him to just pull out. It felt so good to him, the way you clench over his thick shaft, the way you murmur sweet moans that gradually get louder and louder as time passes.

Zoro— was most definitely holding himself from going to hard on you, why? It was your first time, and he wants to savour his favorite positions for future sessions with you as he knows this won't be the last one, so that way he'd suprise you with lot's more and not the same over and over again.

You dont mind, you never will. Zoro was so lawge that you wouldn't remarably fit him immediately, which involves lot's of lubricant. It will never be the same, for you everything does have differences. Just like his pace right now compared to the first one, rough and agonizingly slow. Other than that, he was savoring the moment of your sloppy hole.

Zoro removes his bandana, wiping his forehead using it and ties it around your arm, it was soaked in his sweat and it almost felt disgusting. He runs his calloused hands over your arms towards your shoulder, simply to tease you. His rough hands were dragging along your skin, making you shiver in suprise.

Was this romanticism? He asks himself; but why? No, romance was never his forte, no it was never something he wanted to experience. But, here he was on top of you, savoring each thrust he gave you. Here he was, admiring you soft, delicate moans that echoes through his ears.

Fuck romanticism, his mind swirled around the thoughts of what was happening now— nothing was important, nothing other than projecting his hips movements, nothing other than making you cum.

His thoughts swirled more, and more. It makes him go rougher at the session. The skin slapping, your ass was very much sore from all the collision of your skins. Your moans get louder each rough thrusts he provides, this was either heaven or hell.

You held onto his shoulder as he goes faster, your eyes almost going white and you felt like you were gonna explode your climax all over him soon.

"I hope i could keep you like this forever, a hole to forever abuse." Zoro smirks on his comment,

The deep feeling deep inside his loin is heating up, he feels the spring that will almost immediately burst. He continues pounding you like a dog in heat, his hips now stuttering even more. Your nails dug on his back, leaving crescent moon shapes behind him. Your moans are heard by the whole room, possibly until outside of the room and 2 more neighboring ones.

His thrust was demonic to forever start with, the sound of his repeated thrusting and followed by the sloppiness that was developed between the both of you were starting to louden itself. Zoro was finally groaning and huffing, whilst your moans only louden at the sensation.

Zoro fastens his pace, making your eyes roll back at the back of your skull. The coil deep inside him about to snap, he takes his index and middle finger and shove them up your mouth. You swirl your tongue on his fingers and suck them as he'd like.

"Shit— take my fucking cum┅" With no more words, Zoro spills inside you with a loud thrust, making you yelp loudly, almost lolling your tongue out in ecstacy. He takes your legs and positions your knees above your head,making his cum reach deeper parts within you yourself couldn't reach. You release a loud moan along with some pants as you take your climax on his cock aswell. Gosh, it felt so good.

Zoro and You are now a panting, sweaty, and sticky mess. He plops down to the bed beside you and catches his breath, his cum slowly dripping out of your pussy.

"Physical attention doesn't seem bad."

"I know "

General M.List┆Hentober 24 M.List

©Cokou 2024, all works belong to me.

[dadyscumslutprincess20]

I've had an idea in mind, Cha Hyun-soo and reader are pretty much together but haven't called each other gf & bf officially, even Monster Hyun-soo is all over reader anytime he can. When Hyun-soo is faced with Eun yoo t the hospital, Monster Hyun-soo takes over and the high tension scene happens, but reader sees the whole thing.

Now the end would be up to you, either angst with fluff or angst and smut or whatever you come up with bc you're an amazing writer !

Cha Hyun su x Fem!Reader

Genre: Jealously, Smut , Angst

Warning ⚠️: Jealousy, Hair pulling , mirror sex

You dated Hyun su for a while a bit before he turned his self in , hoping and praying every day for his safety and return so when you Eun yu and Chanyeong were sitting around a small campfire with a crazy woman and a crazy older man who was weirdly obsessed with the younger women making you feel a bit uncomfortable

Suddenly there was a snap of a branch causing everyone to jump as you all stand to your feet getting ready for what ever was about to come … your body becoming stiff as your eyes began to widen

There stood Cha Hyun su..now here you were in a abandoned hospital as you sat in a seat near a entrance as the events reply in your head , looking up as you notice Eun yu push her weight off the wall in the corner of your eye seeing as she walks past the solider towards the room the you last seen Hyun su enter as you start to become curious on what she was doing as you stand to your feet quietly following behind her

Stopping once she entered the room closing as the door closes behind her as you become confused , what did she want with Hyun su? , you thought putting you back to the wall as you peek inside the room seeing as Hyun su stands to his feet

There was something different though..his eyes were a bright blue as your brow furrowed as you couldn’t hear what was being said all you knew was Eun yu stared in his eyes as he walked in front of her blocking your view .. eyes now widen in shock as you see him lower down to her level as if he was going to kiss her

Letting out a loud gasp quickly putting your back against the wall out of their sight so you wouldn’t be seen or caught as you put a hand on your chest as you feel your eyes water a bit , quickly wiping the tears away as you let out a pained grin grabbing at your side with your hand as you feel a warm liquid cover your hand

You forgotten that you were injured… yet no one seemed to notice letting out a shaky breath as you quietly turn and head down the hall towards as your head held low looking down at your feet not noticing as Ah-yo was standing in the hall watching the whole thing as she become confused watching your small form disappear down the hall as she turns and head for the room that you were looking in

Turning down the hall as you walk pass Chanyeong heading for one of the unoccupied in the front entrance hall not caring about his watching gaze as you close the door behind you , still holding your side as you look around the empty room there was a hospital bed that was placed next to a mirror

The cabinets were left wide open most being complete empty , there was a small table that looked to have a scalpel and other small objects on it sighing as you wan further into the room going for the open cabinets as you look through the left over bottles looking for disinfectant for your wound and hopefully something to wrap it up with

Letting out a sigh of relief as you finally find the bottle of disinfectant taking the bottle form the cabinet as you lift up your shirt looking at the open wound as fresh blood poured from the wound opening the bottle as you take a deep breath before pouring the liquid over the wound biting at your lip from the burning sensation

Sitting the bottle on the counter as you feel tears roll done you face as you try to find something to wrap the wound .. but once you couldn’t find anything you took off your shirt rubbing the bottom as you wrap it around your waist making a knot by your side as you hiss from the slight pain putting your shirt back on as it was now a half shirt showing off your belly and wound that was covered by your ripped shirt as you stare at your reflection in the mirror

Tears streaming down your face as you felt angry , hurt and annoyed at both Hyun su and Eun yu .. she knew just like anyone that you both were dating if anyone asked you would tell them with a huge smile in your face you both just didn’t calm each other boyfriend or girlfriend but you both knew .. you belonged to each other and no one else , yet …he didn’t seem to care about you at all

You were so caught up in your thought you didn’t hear the door open as it slowly closed behind Hyun su entered the room as his brown eyes slowly look up from his feet body stiffened as his eyes land on your waist that was wrapped in your ripping shirt a small blood splatter on the side indicating that it was still bleeding a bit as he smelled the fresh blood eyes feeling with worry as he takes slowly steps towards you stopping a few feet away

“A..Are you okay..” Hyun su says as he eyes still look at your wound with worry breaking you from your thoughts as you slowly turn to face him eyes now cold as you stare at him feeling the shudder change in the air as he looks you in the eyes slightly confused

“Why do you care” reader says as she looks at him with the same cold expression

“W-what..” Hyun su says brown eyes looking at you with confusion

“Don’t act like you care .. you don’t care about me” reader says as she feels her blood boil as she becomes annoyed

“I do ca-..”Hyun su tries to reply only to be cut off by you

“No the fuck your don’t Cha Hyun su..” you reply as you take two steps towards him

“You only care about her , right so why the fuck are you here .. if I recall you acting like I want even there instead you ran towards her now you flirt with her .. SO WHY DO YOU CARE CHA HYUN SU .. while I was struggling .. always getting hurt , you choose her .. at first I thought it was her brother but the learn that it was you” you says as tears start to slowly run down her face as Hyun Su stiffens as he feel his hurt ache from seeing you cry but not knowing what to say or do

“You choose her .. over me , so why do you care , huh” you say as you let out a shaky breathe as Hyun su looks down at his feet not saying a word

“Say.. since your allowed to flirt with the whore .. I’m now allowed to flirt with the solider out there ..yeah” you says as your lips slowly form in a grin as Hyun su body freezes eyes twitching with anger but not looking up or saying anything to you

“Or … how about I fuck him , yeah .. right here you seem to like her so much the keep her safe while I was in danger he was there to keep me safe unlike you, so I should be allowed to fuck him then” reader says with a chuckle as she stress at Hyun su with a serious expression slowly walking past him as you bump into his shoulder

Heading for the door as you step in your tracks feeling Hyun su cold hand grab the back of your head holding your hair in a tight grip as he lets out a dark chuckle walking closer to your small form keeping a hold of your hair as he bends down towards your ear

“We’ll kill him before he even prays a finger on you” Hyun su says as he voice becomes deeper then usual

“Fuck you let go Hyun su” You say as you try to release his grip on your hair only causing him to tighten his grip as you let out a quite moan from the tight hold

Turning as he pulls you by your hair towards the hospital bed pushing your small figure roughly on to the bed as his blue eyes stare down at you with so much anger sending a shiver down your spine

“We don’t give a shit about that girl , we asked her about you and the white said she hadn’t seen you .. yet you say you want that dumb ass solider to fuck you” Hyun su says as he lets out a dark laugh before looking back at you

“What .. he helps you a few times and it makes your panties wet or something , your craving for the solider cock now , YEAH, I BEEN HERE ALL ALONG YOU THINK I DIDN’T NOTCIE, I don’t give a damn about her and it seems you forgot your ours yeah” Hyun sun says with a evil grin as he blue eyes stare down at your figure as you try to move away from Hyun su

Chuckling as he grabs your ankles pulling your body towards him before lifting up your skirt as he rips your now soaked panties from your body as he quickly pulls down his pants and boxers as he grabs your figure turning you to your stomach as you let out a pained moan from you wound hitting against the bed from the sudden force Hyun su used to turn your body as his coke hands pulls you bottom half up in the air soon stroking his hard coke as he forcefully pushes his full length in your tight dripping hole as you grip at the bed trying not to moan

Using his free hand to grab a hand full of your hair as he pulls your body body with your hair causing you to slam on his coke with a force you don’t know he had , letting out a groan as he turn to look at you in the mirror blue eyes darkened as he start to pick up his pace causing your toes to curl as you let out a loud moan knowing the other heard as your eyes start to roll back from the hard thrust Hyun su was giving you

“Fucking whore , he can’t have you .. your already ours” Hyun su says with a grin as your eyes look at him through the mirror as your pussy tighten around Hyun su as you see the inhumane soles he was going as you feel your juices leak on the bed with every hard thrust he gave you

“Y-you .. f-fuck h-her TOO , AH” you try to let out as you let out a loud moan feeling Hyun su hit you cervix as you feel you legs shaky slightly coming to a stop once he proceed what you said

“Your so dumb..” Hyun su says become pounding into you faster than he was before as your breathe gets caught in your throat

“I don’t care about that girl” Hyun su says as you tightens around his cock feeling a knot forming in your stomach

“C-cum..” you try to say before letting out groan from the sudden feeling of emptiness as Hyun su turns you back on your back before pounding back into your dripping cunt as your arms wrap around his neck pulling him closer to your small figure as his cock kisses your cervix once again before the knot formed in your stomach before snapping soon after as your backs arches off the bed letting out a loud moan as your eyes roll to the back of your head feeling your juices leak from your soaked cunt as Hyun su gave you a few more stokers before releasing his load inside of you not pulling away from your until you caught your breathe as you look in his eyes as brown eyes now stare back at you

“We only love you..promise” Hyun su says as he looks down stiffening from how soaked he was yet not pulling out of you as he picks up your form laying on the bed as he stares up at you

“M-My turn now..” Hyun su says as he looks at you with pleasing eyes

[femmad]

English is not my language, if there are errors, excuse me. If you don't feel comfortable reading you can stop. It's also my first time writing something like this.

This story can also be found in its original version in Spanish on my Wattpad account. Only here and on my Wattpad account have I published them. If another account publishes them, please notify me and report it.

"What do you want to do?"

Warning: +18. Mature content below, I am not responsible for any discomfort, I already gave a warning. Unedited.

I quietly enter the room after saying goodbye to Eun-Yu and Chan Young, promising to meet again soon. I notice how calm and ethereal Hyun-soo looks lying on the stretcher with his eyes closed and the sun bathing his skin. I approach at a slow pace trying not to break his bubble when he slowly opens his eyes, but unlike his beautiful dark eyes I find bright blue eyes.

- Hyun-soo... - he interrupts me before I can say anything.

- You know, he was very sad without you - he says with a thick voice - We were hoping to find you when he was saving that girl - his eyes watching me deeply, analyzing every detail - Did you change us for that idiot who came with you - he asks in mocking tone.

- I could never change you, he is just a friend, he helped us after everything that happened - I lower my head feeling nervous under his deep gaze.

- A friend doesn't see you as if he wants to eat you - he smiles maliciously - That's how I see you.

After a few minutes in silence I raise my head when I hear him move. He approaches slowly, circling around me, I feel like I am enclosed in these four walls, as if I have fallen into his trap, his gaze makes a shiver run through me from head to toe, which makes him smile. I see that his eyes are a little darker, so he looks like a predator and I am the prey.

- What are you doing? - I ask nervously, raising my head to be able to see him when he approaches me with his big height. He leans down to be in front of my face with that smile that doesn't mean anything good.

- I don't know - he whispers looking at my lips - What should we do? - he asks mockingly - What do you want to do?

We stare at each other for a moment until he leans in, pressing his lips to mine. His soft lips quickly dominate mine, I feel his hands running over my hips until he lifts my shirt, placing his rough hands on my waist. I gasp when he bites my lip to insert his tongue. I slowly bring my hands to his face, brushing away his hair.

- We shouldn't do this - I whisper between kisses, pushing him a little - Bring Hyun-soo back.

He separates from me with a mocking smile - He's resting but don't worry, he and I are one - his hand goes up to caress my left cheek - We've been waiting for this moment since the last time we took you - he caresses my lips before introduce his thumb, which I unconsciously suck. He tilts his head to the side with his eyes fixed on my lips - You can't imagine the things he wanted to do to you from the moment he saw you after so long.

He takes my neck, bringing our lips together again, gently but firmly pushes my body until it hits the stretcher attached to the wall. His hand on my neck goes down to take one of my breasts in his hand, he squeezes it roughly making me squirm and gasp when he begins to caress my nipple covered only by the thin shirt I'm wearing. He takes advantage of that opportunity to introduce his tongue, invading my mouth.

I let myself be carried away by the feeling of being with Hyun-soo again. I remember one time we were together, the first time his monster made an appearance at a time like this. Hyun-soo always took me gently and timidly, but it changed from one moment to the next.

~

I gasp when Hyun-soo licks my nipple while one of his fingers plays with my clit. I get lost in the sensation and start to squirm feeling like I'm about to cum - Hyun-soo - I sob squeezing his shoulders. He raises his head looking at me with his innocent eyes, releasing my nipple with a soft pop - Faster please - I gasp with tears in my eyes, unable to help myself I move my hips against his.

He joins his lips to mine, obeying my request, he begins to push faster, leveling his attacks with the movements on my clitoris, I moan, feeling that I am coming, pressing against him, making me gasp between desperate attacks. He comes out of me quickly cumming all over my pussy. With heavy breathing, I smile satisfied when I feel him move next to me. He moves away from me and I adjust so we can hug together, when suddenly I feel his hands firmly holding my hips.

- I'm not done yet - he whispers hoarsely before turning me around, letting me support myself with my elbows and knees.

- Hyun-soo? - I asked dazed, still not coming down from my previous orgasm - Wait, I'm still sensitive... ah! - I scream when he buries himself in my pussy with one blow.

I sob as I feel my pussy spasming trying to adjust. I gasp, feeling a pleasure that causes goosebumps all over my body - What a good girl for us - he gasps as he begins to violently hit my pussy. I can't understand his words as I feel a new orgasm forming quickly. His hands squeeze my hips to ensure each thrust, it will undoubtedly leave marks.

- Hyun-soo please - I sob feeling tears falling down my face - It's very... - he interrupts me with a strong spank that makes me scream.

- Take it - his hoarse voice orders - Take it like a good whore.

~

He brings me out of my luxurious thoughts by inserting his right hand through my pants and panties.

- So wet from some kisses - he asks amused - Or is that little head of yours thinking about my cock - without giving me a chance to respond, he kisses me abruptly, finding my clitoris quickly, playing roughly with it, making me take his wrist to try to slow it down. Without wasting time he collects my juices and inserts one of his fingers making me gasp into his mouth - You are so tight - another of his fingers enters me with fluid movements, you can hear the splashing sound thanks to how wet my pussy is .

- Take me - I beg him, wanting his cock inside me - Please, I need you.

He smiles at me before lowering my pants while I help him take off my shoes and shirt. When I finish, he puts me on the stretcher and opens my legs. I try to cover myself, feeling very vulnerable since he was fully dressed. - Don't cover yourself - he says, removing my arms that cover my breasts. - Unless you want me to tie you up so that nothing gets in the way - I swallow, imagining myself tied up, leaving my body completely at his mercy.

Without waiting any longer he opens his pants and lowers them to the middle of his thigh, he takes my legs pulling my body until my bottom is on the edge, he pushes my panties aside and spits on my pussy making me jump, he rubs his cock wetting it before slowly entering me. I gasp from the heat of the stretch, wincing as I feel his big, heavy cock pulsing in my pussy. When it is completely buried, take my legs, bending them in half until they stick to my chest - Don't let go - he orders, placing my hands to support my legs. And then take my hips.

He begins to thrust sharply without warning, making a high-pitched moan come out of me - Hyun-soo - I beg, looking at him with big eyes as his hips increase in speed. His grunts make my pussy tighten.

- After separating from you we could only think about you - he pants while smiling devilishly - About how much of a whore you are for us, how well you take us - he pinches my nipples making me make a strange noise from the pleasure and pain together that feel so good , he always knows how to make me feel good - When we saw you with that soldier I was about to kill him - he takes my throat with his big hand while I fix my eyes on his eyes that have become darker - But he didn't want to, he was very distracted with how small and pretty you looked - he slows down with hard thrusts, he moves closer until our lips touch - he was just imagining how good you would look moaning taking this cock - he returns with his hard thrusts at an inhuman speed, I wrinkle my face unable to bear the pleasure.

- Go slower - I whisper tremblingly as my eyebrows are together and tears run down my cheeks - Hyun-soo please, slower... ah! - I moan as my hips shake against him, I feel my legs shake as he continues.

- Take it - he growls, squeezing my legs that slipped from my hands. I sob as I come, feeling spasms run through my body - That's it - he chuckles, interrupting himself with a moan when he feels my pussy suffocating him. I gasp feeling another orgasm coming over me.

- Hyun... it's too much, please stop - I feel my tongue numb as I drawl the words, contrary to what I say my pussy tightens without wanting to let it out - I-I... it feels... - I stop talking, my lips parted as I stare into nothingness.

- Have I fucked your brain yet, doll? - He lets out an evil laugh, one of his hands rubs my clit quickly while the other holds my leg up.

- Please - I beg without knowing what to ask him. My body writhes from tickling everywhere - It feels strange - I sob feeling my body being invaded by pleasure coming from everywhere.

He takes his wet hand out of my pussy to slap one of my tits, making me jump and throw my head back - Did you like that, pretty? How about this? - He slaps my pussy making a stream come out of me, wetting his shirt and pants. I scream, feeling like I'm dripping until I hear some liquids fall to the floor - What a dirty doll.

I feel like I'm fading from so much pleasure when he finally comes with a grunt filling me completely. I caress my boy's back and hair letting our breathing calm down, after a while I feel small kisses on my cheeks and lips - Good girl - I see his brown eyes again as he falls on top of me hugging me.

[ckret2]

Chapter 62* of the first day of the rest of human Bill Cipher's life—he's back in the Mystery Shack but whether or not he's a prisoner anymore is up in the air, he's proven he knows how to escape, and the Pines have proven they don't want to execute him anymore. For now. How's he gonna celebrate?

With back pain! That's what you get from half a week of running around in the woods ignoring all your body's pain signals.

But at least it can't get worse.

This chapter is book compatible but book spoiler free! The fic won't remain spoiler free, but while I figure out how to incorporate the new info in the fic, we're proceeding with pre-written chapters unaltered.

[*you may notice chapter 61 is missing! This plot was done sooner, so I'll be posting chapter 61 sometime after 64. It's not chronological so you're not missing anything!]

####

Soos was awakened by Melody as she thrashed and sucked in a gasp like a scream. Groggily, Soos said, "Babe? You okay?"

She rolled over, grabbing for his arms with trembling hands. "Soos—"

"I've got you." He half sat up with a sleepy groan and pulled Melody into his embrace. She pressed her face into his chest with a sigh. As he stroked her hair, her breathing slowly steadied out again.

"M'good," Melody said. "Sorry I woke you."

"Don't worry about it, babe. Always happy to cuddle." He yawned. "Sleep paralysis again?"

"Yeah," Melody sighed.

For as long as Melody could remember, she'd had sleep paralysis nightmares: nights where she'd wake up and find she was unable to move any part of her body but her eyes, and a monster escaped from her worst dreams was lurking in the room. Shadowy figures with glowing eyes, twisted demonic representations of her least favorite teachers, hunched hags with claws extending out of tattered robes—for three years, it had looked like a werewolf-mummy from an old horror movie that terrified her as a child—filling the doorway, or silhouetted in the window, or standing perfectly straight in the corner with neck tilted sideways as though it were broken, or staring hungrily down at her from the ceiling with bulging eyes, or crawling up from the foot of the bed and over her body to grab her throat.

The first time she spent the night with Soos, she'd warned him about her sleep paralysis; but for the past year, she'd never had a nightmare while sleeping in the Mystery Shack. She'd even been completely free of them for several months—something subconsciously reassuring about having her fiancé next to her, probably—until their unwelcome house guest moved in and she'd gone back to sleeping at her aunt's house in town.

And now she was even having them in the shack.

"This is the third time in less than a month," Soos asked. "Same one as usual?"

"Mhm."

"I couldn't protect you this time," Soos said mournfully. "I have failed you as your knight in shining armor... Maybe I need shining armor. Do you think they make like, shiny silver spandex pajamas?"

Melody laughed. "Soos, you goofball." She hugged him tighter. "It's fine. I always get sleep paralysis more when I'm stressed. And the situation in the shack's been... well..."

"Yeah," Soos sighed. "I know." She didn't need to tell him what part of "the situation" was stressing her out.

For the past year, ever since Weirdmageddon—which she'd been just unlucky enough to catch live on a weekend trip to visit Soos—her sleep paralysis demon had looked like Bill Cipher.

She'd told Soos this last fall, and in a panic he'd told her that Bill was a dream-invading demon; and for a moment they'd feared this meant Bill had found a way back. But no—according to Soos, Bill was a real chatterbox, and he was always doing something if he invaded your dreams. The thing Melody saw acted like any of her other nightmares: creepy. Standing on too-long legs at the end of the bed; giving off sickly yellow light she could see through her eyelids; staring at her with one bloodshot eye; crawling onto her chest with claws like gnarled black branches. It was just an unlucky coincidence that the real Bill had been a dream demon, and just an unlucky coincidence that being petrified by an eye-bat felt so much like sleep paralysis.

Ironically, now she had confirmation that her nightmares didn't mean Bill was back—because, when Bill did come back, her nightmares hadn't changed.

"My subconscious just hasn't caught up to the fact that you guys finally executed him," Melody said, getting comfortable to go back to sleep. "The good news is, the real Bill's gone and we never need to worry about that again."

"Oh," Soos said. "Um. By the way. The craziest thing happened at like one in the morning."

####

Bill was creeping upstairs to bed when he heard Melody shout, "He's WHAT?!"

He had to clap a hand over his mouth to keep from bursting out giggling.

####

Bill was getting better at using his other eyes in his sleep, even when he hadn't chemically connected himself to them. His range wasn't very far yet. From inside the shack, all he could feel was his hoodie, his new necklace, a handful of drawings Mabel had done, and four blankets of his zodiac wheel: two in the kids' room, one in Soos's, and one in the dark.

Around eight in the morning, Mabel was still sleeping comfortably and Dipper was staring at the ceiling worrying; all was right with the world. He only glanced into Soos's room long enough to overhear Melody, "—I'm not mad at you, I'm just mad about the whole situation. I mean, I'll adjust, but still—" before moving on, uninterested in listening to a cutesy couple reassuring each other.

The fourth blanket was in some tight dark container—leather?—but he could hear a muffled voice: "If Bill's staying here on a long term basis, we need to renegotiate... almost everything about his captivity." That was Ford. It was gratifying to know that even when Bill was asleep, the whole household was thinking about him.

"Yeah, you're right," Stan sighed. "We can't just let him keep sleeping on a couple of cushions. We haven't been able to use that couch all summer." There was the sound of a zipper and the lid over the zodiac blanket swung up, revealing Stan standing above.

Ford said, "And trying to get him to sleep in the living room is a lost cause. He says he needs to sleep in a room where he can see the stars."

A guilty look crossed Stan's face. "Right. That's probably it." He pushed the zodiac blanket aside, pulled out a t-shirt, and shut the suitcase again. "We could get—I don't know—an inflatable mattress or something..."

"There's an unused mattress in the basement, isn't there? Maybe we could haul it up." (It wasn't a terribly comfortable mattress. But Bill supposed they only wanted to give him the bare minimum so they could get their precious couch cushions back.)

"I'll ask Soos about it," Stan said. "Well, let's get this over with."

That was Bill's cue to wake up. He'd like to look alert when they came for him. Negotiations ought to go in his favor; he could still threaten suicide if their terms felt too restrictive—or even just threaten to escape, he could do that now if he didn't like their terms!—but they couldn't threaten to kill him anymore. He wondered if he could get phone privileges...

He opened his eyes. He was laying on his left side, the window at his back. He tried to push himself upright.

Sharp pain exploded in the left side of his back. He gasped, collapsing on his side. The pain clawed over his left shoulder, inside his arm, up his neck, across to his right shoulder blade, down nearly to his hips. His entire body tensed around the pain.

He let out a weak, wheezy laugh. (He could feel his ribcage contracting as he exhaled.) That was truly exquisite pain.

All right. He shouldn't be surprised by this. He'd spent four of the last five days tromping through forests and mountains and three of the last five nights getting next to no sleep, including two nights in a thin sleeping bag. The last couple of days, he'd hiked all over creation carrying two fully-loaded backpacks, in a body that had gotten next to no exercise for the past month and probably hadn't been designed for hiking in the first place. And on top of all that, first he'd thought the Axolotl was coming to arrest him and then that the Pines were going to kill him—and human bodies handled emotional stress very poorly. Not to mention whatever the heck had happened when three-fourths of his body had simply stopped working for an hour.

He'd ached for days. He'd simply kept pushing himself through it all, because this stupid weak human body didn't get the luxury of rest when Bill's life and death were on the line. 

Apparently, that was all the pushing it could take. Now he felt like someone had shoved a knife in his back and twisted the muscles up around the blade like twirling a forkful of spaghetti. (Oh, that sounded delicious. One more brilliant idea to implement when he restarted Weirdmageddon: spinal muscle spaghetti. Freshly grated parmesan, maybe a little pesto.)

It was difficult even to breathe—that little motion was enough to make his back muscles squeal in pain. He had to carefully move his hips and right arm in tiny motions to let him roll onto his back while roiling up his pained muscles as little as possible; and then he just as carefully rolled onto his right side, his back to the room. The human body was such a fascinatingly complex interconnected thing, crisscrossed with puppet strings that all tugged each other; no matter what part of his body he moved, somehow it managed to yank on something in his upper left back. He curled his left arm against his chest and squeezed his elbow with his right arm, trying to find a way to tense the rest of his body that reduced the tension on his back.

He heard the door to Mabel and Dipper's room open. For lack of a better plan, he shut his eyes and tried to look natural as they passed him on the way to the stairs. Like heck was he about to let the kids know he was in pain, much less ask them for help. He doubted he was severely injured—he combed through his knowledge of human anatomy—probably just a muscle spasm. It would reduce in a few hours; and then he could make his way downstairs and figure out how to convince someone to get him an ice pack out of the freezer without betraying that anything was wrong. For now, he just had to lay down, try to find a position that didn't stab into his revolting muscles, and wait...

Downstairs, Stan bellowed, "Hey, demon! Get down here!"

Right. What were the odds Bill could make it downstairs and fake that he wasn't in agonizing pain in front of the Pines family? Could he suppress those winces convincingly? He tried to sit up.

And immediately fell to his side again with a gasp. In spite of his breathtakingly self-destructive willpower, he physically couldn't force himself to sit upright. Why not! What was the point?! He didn't mind the pain half as much as his body did, and he thought he should be the one in control here!

Stan hollered, "BILL!"

His voice cracked, "Later!" Ugh. Good thing he'd gotten in his dramatic return last night. He suspected that was the last time he'd look cool for a while.

####

Soos was just emerging from the bedroom when he heard Stan shouting, "I said get down here, Cipher!"

There was a long pause before the reply came from upstairs: "Can't!"

"I WASN'T ASKING!"

"ME NEITHER."

Something was up. Bill always talked a little too hard—not always loud, but hard—as though he were trying to carry on a regular conversation over a strong wind; but Soos thought something about his voice seemed even more forced today. Almost strained.

Soos heard Stan and Ford talking quietly as they headed up the stairs—"...sounds off, do you think he's injured?" "I can't imagine how, if he'd been up this morning we would have heard him banging around..."—and he followed them up.

At the top of the stairs, Stan demanded, "Well? What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong with me." Bill was curled up on his usual cushion bed. He didn't even turn to look at them. "Just—let me sleep in. Am I not allowed to sleep in? It's not like I have a job." Now that he wasn't straining to shout, his voice sounded even more pained—barely more than a tight whisper.

"All right, fine. Nothing's wrong with you," Ford said. "Then what's wrong with your body?"

Bill chuckled weakly in defeat. "Back's in too much agony to do its job, so I'm giving it the day off."

"Oh, dude," Soos said sympathetically. "Back pain is the worst. One time, I messed up my back after carrying a bunch of boxes between the museum and the attic? Yeah, it was pretty bad for like, a day. I was kinda crying, because it hurt, but also because I had to miss work, and I felt awful about it—but then I remembered the Mystery Shack was closed that day, and I wasn't missing work. So I went to sleep."

Stan and Ford stared expectantly at Soos.

"That's it, that's my whole anecdote."

"Riveting," Bill said flatly. "Did you invite everyone up here to stare at me?" With great difficulty, he pulled his bedsheet up over his head, leaving only a pile of golden curls visible. "Anyway. I'd love to come downstairs—really, I'm famished—buuut my back won't cooperate, and I can't tell you how furious I am about laying on the ground like an idiot at the feet of three of my captors, so if. you. all. would. leave. Please." The "please" came out sounding like the final word of a hex.

Soos winced. Oh, yeah, he supposed being stuck on the floor in front of a bunch of guys you didn't like was pretty embarrassing. He looked toward the stairs and shifted his feet, waiting for the Stans to make a move that direction.

But instead they huddled up to discuss. Stan muttered, "Think he's faking?"

"Why would he?" Soos asked.

Ford murmured, "Soos is right—unless he's that desperate to sleep in, I can't think of a reason he'd lie. He had some... muscular issues after the eclipse—and who knows what he's been up to the last couple of days..." Ford raised his voice, "This isn't the same thing as after the eclipse—?"

"No, just garden variety human back pain," Bill said quickly. "I assume it's garden variety. I've never had back pain before."

"Can you tell what muscles it is?"

"Ugh." Bill let out a shaky sigh. "Pain's... generalized, but... top suspect is the latissimus dorsi. Next guess is the erector spinae group."

"What," Stan said.

Ford nodded like he knew what Bill was talking about. Which he probably did, Soos figured. Doctor and all. "Probably not a severe injury, then. It likely just needs rest—"

Irritably, Bill snapped, "Like I said."

"Great," Stan said. "Then I don't care anymore." He headed downstairs. "Lemme know when the demon can walk again."

Soos and Ford exchanged an awkward look, silently debating whether to follow suite. Ford turned to Bill and cleared his throat. "What do you want for breakfast."

Bill groaned and muttered, "Probably can't use utensils. Whatever, just—bacon and toast and the strongest painkillers in the house."

"All right." Ford headed downstairs.

That struck Soos as inadequate. Trailing after Ford, he said, "Dude, Bill's in so much pain he can't even sit up. Shouldn't we offer to call a doctor or something?"

Ford said, "Knowing Bill, he'd rather die."

Soos considered that. "I'm gonna offer it anyway." He backtracked enough to get his head above the attic floor. "Hey Bill, do you want us to call a doctor or something?"

"I'd rather die."

"Haha, okay! Welp, glad I checked."

But as he headed down to the kitchen, something about the situation still bothered Soos.

Ford was already laying out bacon in a frying pan. "Soos, could you get the painkillers?" he asked. "We should probably give him individual pills rather than the whole bottle. When he got his hands on the cold medicine, he used it to get crossfaded with cider and to drug a wild animal."

Soos winced. Ouch, was that the cold medicine he'd given Bill? (He wondered when Ford had learned the phrase "crossfaded.") 

"Hey... didn't Bill say he was famished?" Soos asked. "Is it kinda weird he's just asking for bacon and toast?"

It took Ford a long moment to answer. He didn't look up from the bacon. "I... suppose he's too proud to ask for anything more complicated."

"Why wait for him to ask, then? Just make him some more stuff anyway?"

Ford shook his head. "He'd be insulted."

Ford had been right about Bill's reactions so far, but— "Okay, fine. Then I'll bring it upstairs and insult him. He'll be insulted and fed. What do you think he'll eat?"

Ford glanced at Soos. Soos thought the look was grateful.

####

Apparently, Bill's age looked a little bit different to everybody. Soos had first found out when Abuelita mentioned that Bill looked like one of those ladies she saw at bingo night who were clearly 60-something, but had had a little too much work done—makeup, facial injections, hair dye. The sort who never really looked younger, but rather just gave off the impression that they were terrified of looking older.

So Soos had asked Mabel, and she said that Bill looked like he was in his mid-20s—about Soos's age, maybe a little older. He'd asked Dipper, and Dipper said he had no idea—to him, Bill never really looked quite convincingly human, more like an alien wearing a human rubber mask—but if he had to take a guess at the age the rubber mask was supposed to portray... like, middle-age-ish? Parent-middle-age-ish? Maybe 40-something? 40-something. Melody had had a hard time as well, but eventually settled on early 30s—the age you imagined a snotty Silicon Valley startup CEO would be.

Which was all very fascinating to Soos.

Because to him, Bill looked eighteen. Exactly eighteen.

At 23, Soos was just reaching the age where 18-year-olds stopped looking like peers and started looking like babies. Eighteen was "you know this is what an adult looks like, but it takes you by surprise almost every time" age. Eighteen was "you wouldn't be surprised to see this face behind a counter working as a barista, but you'd be a little alarmed if you overheard them talking about paying rent" age. Eighteen was "they can be all alone in the world making their own decisions and it's technically okay, but if they are, then someone failed them" age.

To him, Bill looked like somebody who'd been flung callously out into the world before his time—unprepared, overwhelmed, and alone.

Soos knew Bill was older than the whole universe or whatever. He knew that Bill was the guy who'd tried to take over the Earth. But he wasn't that guy now. Look at him. He shouldn't have been worried about imprisonment or world domination or getting executed. He should have been making pocket change working at the mall food court over summer break and playing Dancy Pants Revolution at the arcade with other recent high school grads and making puppy eyes at all the small business owners in town until somebody offered him a minimum-wage full-time job and sneaking into the movie theater on Saturday mornings.

Soos was finding it more and more impossible to see Bill as the enemy, much less as some incomprehensible alien. He had cousins who looked like Bill. Slap a pair of sunglasses over his freaky eyes and try to ignore that his body proportions were just a bit unnatural, and he could blend right into a Ramirez family portrait. Just another post-high-school pre-college kid in the middle of the transition from skinny teen to fat adult that most Ramirez women went through by 30. His neon yellow hair would fit right in beside Reggie's little sister's current neon red dye job.

From the moment Bill temporally poofed into the Mystery Shack on June 1 with a Pony Heist bedsheet toga and an ineffective vengeance plot, he'd been going through the physical and emotional wringer. Soos got it, of course Bill was having a bad time, he was a prisoner because he was a danger to the whole universe. And being human for the first time was probably tough. One time Soos was stuck in a pig's body and that was rough, and it was only for one day and at least Soos had still been a mammal. It was probably inevitable that Bill was having a bad time.

But it bothered Soos, seeing somebody in his house who was so miserable. And it bothered him that no one else seemed very bothered.

He loved the Pines family—he'd reverse-adopted Stan as his dad and he'd give his life for any one of them—but part of him had to wonder whether they'd be more bothered by witnessing the hell Bill was going through if he looked like he could be part of their family.

####

"Hey dawg!" Soos hefted up the tray as he entered the attic. "Breakfast!"

Bill was still buried under his bedsheet. "Stanford couldn't be bothered to come up himself?"

"I wanted to bring it!"

Bill grumbled something inaudible. He'd made no secret of the fact that he disdained Soos, although Soos had no idea why. When a human looked down on Soos, he had a couple guesses; but he didn't know what an alien could judge him for. Was it the British dog man nightmare? Was Bill insulted by Soos's 10th grade geometry grades?

But Bill didn't protest, so Soos scooted around his makeshift bed to set the tray down on the floor in front of him. "Uh... feel better, dude. Hey, you know—if sleeping on the floor is hurting your back, the fold-out sofa in the living room is still totally available. Just, in case you wanna—"

"Not interested," Bill said. "Buzz off, Questiony."

"Okay." He'd offered.

Soos was almost back to the stairs when Bill said, "What is all this stuff?"

"It's breakfast!" The tray included bacon, a toasted sandwich, a drink with one of those straw that bent in the middle so Bill didn't have to sit up all the way up to drink it, a pre-opened chip bag, and a pre-opened pill bottle. (Soos had elected to ignore Ford's advice that they mete out painkillers one pill at a time. If they gave Bill individual pills, he'd have to ask for more when they wore off, and Soos suspected he'd rather choose to suffer.)

"I didn't ask for this."

"Well, I thought you might want some other stuff."

"I don't."

Surprise! Bill was insulted. Soos didn't understand how he could be insulted by some extra food for breakfast—he's still gotten his bacon and toast—but all right, fine, Soos had been warned. "Oh, okay. Just don't eat anything you don't want."

Bill grunted in response.

As Soos started down the stairs, Bill said, "Hey, Questiony. If Mabel asks where I am, just tell her I woke up for breakfast then decided to sleep in."

Aww, he didn't want her to worry. "What about if Dipper asks?"

"Tell him to mind his own business."

"Heh. You got it, dude." Soos headed back to the kitchen—still bothered.

####

Yesterday, Soos and Melody had made plans to take advantage of the Mystery Shack being closed for the day to make breakfast together, the way they used to during the off season. But today, Melody had said that, now that Bill was alive again, she wasn't comfortable eating in the shack, and she'd gone to her aunt's house. She'd said she wasn't mad at Soos, and he believed her—he'd played no part in Bill's continued survival—but still. It kinda felt like she was mad at Soos.

So Soos was eating brunch by himself in the kitchen when Bill gingerly eased himself downstairs—leaning to one side, wincing in pain, one eye squeezed shut, and supporting himself on his broken umbrella; but, mobile again. He ducked into the living room where Stan and Ford were watching TV and, from what Soos had overheard, planning what to do with the rest of their summer. "Okay, I'm here," Bill said. "Negotiations?"

"Hey—no weapons," Stan said. "Hand over the umbrella."

"What! You let me keep it last night."

"Yeah, when it was raining and we were tired. I don't see any rain inside the house."

"Hey, Mr. Pines?" Soos leaned out of the kitchen. "Bill was just using the umbrella to walk? Maybe we could let him keep this one?"

Bill shot Soos a dirty look, face flushed. (What was that for!)

Stan paused, and turned to Ford for a verdict. Ford pressed his lips together, looked away, and muttered, "Well, if he's using it for legitimate purposes."

Bill stared at Ford, brows raised in amazement. "Wait, wait—I'm allowed to have it now?"

"Yes?" Ford said. "I mean—If you're using it to walk, why wouldn't you be?"

"Why wouldn't I—?!" Bill laughed in disbelief. "'No weapons, Bill!' 'No weapons, Bill!' Ev-ry sin-gle time! No canes, no umbrellas, no brooms, no baseball bats, no GOLF CLUBS, no STICKS, no CURTAIN RODS—"

"Oh come on!" Stan spread his hands defensively. "Some of those can obviously be used as weapons—!"

"I wouldn't have needed a baseball bat if you hadn't already taken my cane!"

"You tried to brain Soos with a cane on your first day."

Bill shot another dirty look at Soos.

Soos said apologetically, "That did objectively happen."

Bill rolled his open eye and glowered at Stan again. "What, so because of that I'm not allowed to walk?"

"I," Stan said. "That." He turned to Ford again for help.

Ford said, "If we'd known you needed a cane—"

"I fall down the stairs twice a day!"

"Well," Ford said.

"You use me falling to tell when I'm up in the morning!"

"Ah."

"Did it not occur to you! That this was a problem! That I was trying to solve!"

"I see your point."

Why didn't he just say something, Soos wondered; followed by, what, the guy who refused to explain why he was stuck laying on the floor until we dragged it out of him?

"Well, you've got an umbrella now," Stan said. "Happy?"

"Elated," Bill said sourly. He perched on the armrest of the sofa, visibly wincing as he crossed his legs and found the right position to balance himself. (Soos noted that, since Stan and Ford were already occupying both armchairs and the sofa's seat cushions were in the attic, Bill didn't have any cushioned place to sit. With back pain, no less.) "Let's get this over with."

The crux of the negotiations was that, when Bill and the Pines had initially agreed on the terms of his imprisonment, they'd only been meant to be sufficient enough to last until either the Pines figured out how to kill him or Bill figured out how to escape. Now that both had happened and it looked like Bill would be staying here longer than planned, they supposed they needed something more sustainable.

Bill requested door rights back. Stan and Ford nixed that immediately; they didn't trust him with that kind of freedom.

"Fine, then at least let me go outside. I want fresh air, blue skies, and a social life! I'm an extrovert, I'm losing even more of my mind in here."

Stan and Ford exchanged a look. "Yeah," Stan said grudgingly. "He's more or less in solitary in here. Even for him, that's harsh." (A ghost of a triumphant smirk flickered across Bill's face and disappeared.)

Ford considered that with an unconvinced grimace; but he said, "I suppose... you can make occasional trips outside the shack for... mental health purposes. Under adequate supervision."

"Finally," Bill sighed. "So what's 'adequate' supervision?"

That was where negotiations broke down. Stan and Ford did not think that Mabel alone was adequate supervision for the villainous Bill Cipher, and Wendy was just barely sufficient for Rainbow Club nights but he couldn't be trusted alone with her outside that; Bill, on the other hand, objected strenuously to the suggestion that he could only go outside with somebody who hated and/or distrusted him—which described everyone in the shack except Wendy and Mabel—because that would just make going outside miserable.

They couldn't agree on what kinds of things Bill would be allowed to do, either. They didn't like the idea of him hanging out with Rainbow Club members outside of club meetings, or going with Abuelita to bingo, or visiting a bar in town—all of those would give him too many opportunities to manipulate people with minimal oversight.

"Okay," Bill said irritably, "so are there any social activities I am allowed to participate in! Since it sounds like socialization itself is off limits—!"

Soos decided to make himself scarce before things got any more heated. Maybe he'd go upstairs to retrieve the tray from breakfast.

####

The bacon and drink had been consumed; the bendy straw had been tied in a double loop; the pill bottle was alarmingly light; the sandwich had been picked at, before Bill elected to eat the toast around it and leave the filling behind on the plate; and the potato chip bag had been flung across the room, crushed chips left in its wake, in some sort of protest against receiving unasked-for food. Okay. So Bill was really insulted, then.

Eh, Soos should probably clean up here anyway. He took pride in keeping the Mystery Shack clean, but he hadn't had a chance to thoroughly clean the attic since Bill and the kids moved in for the summer. And it looked like the projectile potato chips weren't the only junk food trash that had accumulated. He saw empty chip bags, candy wrappers, peanut butter jars, jerky packets, cider cans... a lot of cider cans...

He went downstairs, got a broom, a trash bag, and a vacuum, and got to work.

As Soos worked his way across the floor sucking up potato chips, he quietly sang to himself, "Am I cleanin'? Girl, I'm cleanin'. I vacuum in the attic. 'Are you cleanin'?' Yeah, I'm cleanin'. I vacuum in the..." He picked up the couch cushions to vacuum under them—he still wondered why Bill preferred to sleep on the cushions rather than the sofa bed downstairs. Maybe he got scared of the dark and liked to sleep by a window? That would make sense. Since Bill used to glow when he was a triangle, he probably wasn't used to the dark. Or maybe he just thought the attic was cooler than the living room.

Soos almost set the cushions back on the ground, noticed bloodstains on one, and froze. He'd seen Bill with a lot of little injuries, but had he seen any cuts that big? The blood didn't look fresh. They'd at least been here long enough for Bill to hide them on the underside of the cushion. Soos looked around wildly for any clues about how or why or when, uneasily decided that since they were dry and Bill wasn't dead he didn't need to worry about it, and pulled out the upholstery attachment to give the stain a halfhearted vacuuming before putting the cushions back in place. What the heck was happening in this attic?

Soos scooped up the mostly yellow and black clothes sitting at the foot of the cushion-bed—they were outside Bill's cardboard box "dresser," he figured that meant they were dirty—wrapped them in Bill's Pony Heist sheet, and tossed the bundle toward the staircase. They flew down to the landing without hitting the stairs. "Yes! Three points! No net!" Soos pumped his fist.

He cleaned the window seat's cushion with the upholstery attachment, picked it up to clean underneath—and the cushion was really heavy on one side. He felt that side of the cushion; there was something hard and brick-ish inside. He caught a flash of white along one edge. The cushion's stuffing was coming out of a tear in the seam. Soos reached inside.

His jaw dropped. "No way. How did he...?"

Soos had pulled out two stubby crayons and the long-lost Journal 4.

####

(If you got this far thank you for taking a break from the fandom-wide riots over the book in order to read my fic. (I'm assuming there's fandom-wide riots, I'm queuing this Monday night so that I don't have to worry about it for the rest of the week.) Anyway, I'd love to hear what y'all think about our first Soos-focused plot arc!

And as promised, now that the book's out, I'll be getting to work crossposting the fic to Ao3 soon-ish. I don't know when yet, since I'm writing to y'all from the past, but soon.)

[dyinggirldied]

HOLY TRINITY X SPY AU

In this modern world where technology and magic interwired, the existence of spy remains necessary more than ever.

We have an organization that immediately disbatches 3 of its top members to a prestige, highly publicized boarding school due to a rumor that a bomber blood mage criminal has hidden there.

1st spy, nicknamed the Silver Shield, real name: Kim Rok Soo.

2nd spy, nicknamed the Demon King, real name: Kim Dokja.

3rd spy, nicknamed Monster Mother, real name: Han Yoojin.

All three are talented but are desperate for their deserved retirement.

This mission will be the last. The three spies are confident this plan will go without a hitch since they have worked together before and any missions, no matter how impossible, are guaranteed to be succeed with the Unholy Trinity there.

Of course they jinx it.

The Academy they will be undercover turns out to not only housing the target but to also be a nestling pot of an incredibly secretive and dangerous crime organization that has existed since ancient time and is currently alarmingly large in number. There are hints that the org might have impacted the Holy Trinity's childhood before.

To add to the trouble, Rok Soo (who is half-Korean) had dyed his hair red and forged a fake name, as expected. It would have been no problem if it wasn't for the fact that Rok Soo, or Cale Margarita (he lost a bet), shares resemblance to the infamous wealthy deliquent, Cale Henituse down to the reddish-brown eyes. Or that the young boy Choi Han, whom he gives his sandwich to, would obediently follow him around like a puppy!

Kim Dokja, or rather Yoo Dokja, finds himself at odds with the professor Yoo Joonghyuk, who Dokja embarassibgly admires when he was young. Yoo Joonghyuk, through his keen sense and instinct, is suspicious of this "Yoo Dokja" and no, despite what Uriel and others say, he does NOT have a crush on that annoying man!

Han Yoojin, who uses his real name since unfortunately his overprotective younger brother (who doesn't know his older brother is in a dangerous career) is the star pupil of this school, enters as a sort of teaching assistant to one Sung Hyunjae, who keeps giving him exotic presents.

The retirement life filled with money and delicious food, suddenly seems far far away.

P.S: this is based on a dream where my OC asks the holy trinity this question: "How to hide oneself in plain sight?"

Kim Rok Soo/Cale: "Act cute, weak, helpless"

Han Yoojin: "Cuteness can save the world"

Kim Dokja: "Born ugly :)"

*the conversation derails into disaster*

P.S Again: Margarita is an alcoholic drink whose base is tequlia, orange liqueur and lime. And guess who hates sour thing 🤣

[lovetei]

I have been obsessed with Cell Block Tango recently, I always love stuff with the brothers reacting to Mc performing soo...

Could you write headcanons or a drabble about the brothers (Mammon, Leviathan and Beelzebub especially) reacting to mc performing Cell Block Tango?? Thanks!!! ^^

I love cell block Tango 🙈

And I hope you don't mind but I made this like the first part of the Idol AU

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

IDOL!MC: If you had been there, if you had seen it! I bet ya, you would have done the same!

Warnings: Suggestive themes, fake personality, foul language, back stage work, dark side of idol industry

Links: Masterlist

----------------- <- IDOL AU -> -----------------

You ended up taking the request on

You mean, it's hundreds of millions for just some short performance plus the birthday is private

Earning that would take months if you decided to keep your head high and refuse

And it benefits you so why not just accept right?

You'll earn hundreds of millions

And you'll increase your popularity among the socialites

"Who are the guests?" I asked as my make up artist add the final touches "The seven avatars, the prince of hell is together with his butler, the exchange students excluding the young angel, the heir of the greatest noble clan, mephistopheles, the reaper and some other nobles."

The make up artist smiled at you and signaled to leave after she's done with your make up "Damn this shit down to the dirtiest ring of hell." You cussed out as you slammed your hand to the table.

"Karasu." You called your assistants name "I can do this right?" You asked as you looked back at him with pure fear and hatred on your eyes that just makes his stomach feel butterflies "Of course..." He answered with such a love sick look.

You looked back at the mirror when suddenly hands appeared from your behind and crept itself up to your oh so precious face, pulling the corners of your lips upward to force a smile out.

"Smile now, dearest." You saw Karasu smiling through the mirror "The show is about to start." He reminded "Give them a good look of this now." He said as his hands fall from your lips to your neck and to your sides before squeezing your waist.

Inside the grand hall though, the greatest of the great are waiting for this so called monster that got almost everyone captivated.

The lower nobles are on the floor sitting on their assigned seats in a circular table.

And the higher ups are on the internal balconies.

A total of thirteen balconies sorrounding the whole hall with Levi sitting on the middle one.

And at the middle there sits a large circular platform where you will perform at and it's surrounded with some glass to prevent the audience from coming up the stage.

Lucifer is intrigued. His dear brother, Leviathan, have never asked for anything until now. He never even wanted to host a celebration for his birthday.

So when they had dinner and Levi decided to discuss this matter to everyone, they all dropped silent. The funds for this event is also extremely high as it only happens sometimes.

And he even requested a gift? "And what could you possibly want?" He asked with a smirk displayed on his face. He loved every moment on his life whenever one of his brothers show this much pride.

"Ah..." He mumbled knowingly after he made Asmodeus show him a picture of this idol Leviathan specifically asked for to perform on his birthday.

The first songs started off as innocent, not until the lights in the room turned red "Hmm?" Diavolo muttered as he noticed how the glass sorrounding the platform changed and got replaced by bars.

"How can I get them to perform for me, Lucifer?" Oh... So this idol is the currently the apple of everyone eyes?

"Slip some change and I can assure you this demon will be dancing on your lap by the end of the night." He even teased.

"And for the last performance..!" The deep voice of the host announced "The cell block Tango!" He added before red lights appeared and your silhouette is the only thing they can see.

"Is this an unreleased song..?" Levi asked himself as he eyed all of your curves before shifting uncomfortably on his seat.

You decided this, with the short span of time given to you to prepare you still managed to create a song that will be the dark horse of the night and that song is this.

Gladly, the performance ended nicely.

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

LUCIFER

His face is not showing any signs of discontentment

Instead, it's showing interest

On you specifically

Who would have thought that Leviathan knew someone like you?

He can't help but smirk at the sight of your silhouette in the red light.

Who would have thought that a mere doll like you would catch his attention?

And maybe if you play nice, he might even give you what you want.

MAMMON

He swore to himself that you'll actually be the first demon to ever have him throwing money for you

The way you would look at him from down the stage and wink at him is enough signal

Maybe after the show he'll come and meet you backstage?

Ask for a small private performance if possible

LEVIATHAN

He knew that this was the right and wrong move at the same time

Introducing someone like you will surely peak their interest

But that interest will have you included in their business, in his business

So now, he just sit quietly in his seat as he heard the butler open the door and say "MC have come to you and asked for a private audience..."

He just smirked as he looked down at the people in the hall "Send them in." Is what he replied.

SATAN

The way you have kept eye contact with him as you did a part of the routine

The way he would follow your movements as he tilted his head signaled that you have had him interested in you

He may not have you now, but he'll make sure to have his hands in you

Maybe even more?

ASMODEUS

It sure is not his first time seeing you

Everything going on in the trending list is watched by Asmodeus

And you sure caught his eyes

A young demon being the first idol in Devildom?

What a surprise.

Maybe he'll invite you for a collab or an interview later on after this event

Then maybe you can visit his room once the job is finished?

BEELZEBUB

Who is this demon?

Your face is not that familiar...

So he looked around and saw everyone else captivated

Even Belphie

So when he looked back at you

He finally felt something strange

He should meet you back stage to ask you what you did to make him feel that way...

BELPHEGOR

He's chuckling

He's intrigued

All he can say is that you better make sure what you're getting yourself in

Because the moment he got his hands on you

Those chains and bars won't be props attached to you anymore.

[muffinsin]

you know what, fuck it we ball. i gave the dani and cass monsterfucker prompts, lemme cook one up for bela real fast in your ask box while i am yet again sleep deprived.

let’s put bela with a lycan (heh). feel like we’ve seen a couple lycan requests, but i’m gonna put a breeding focus on this one. similar to cass’ i guess. sweet, darling bela is gunna have to carry a litter of lycan pups to full term, though.

she’s thinking about that and all the consequences that come with it the whole time she’s getting railed after having been pounced on, and for some reason being unwilling to push the beast off. pheromones? she’s a little loopy on them, it’s clouding her judgement. not to mention this situation, unfortunately, really turns her on, despite the fact that she’s soo anxious about the fat knot smacking against her cunt getting forced inside, and so anxious about being pumped full of so much werewolf cum that makes her look pregnant alone. starts thinking about how many pups she might be given. will it be a whole litter? how many pups come in a lycan litter? how is that going to affect her body? etc. thinks about lactation too. probably gotta produce a whole lot to feed a litter, ya know?

very big on bela mommy issues dimitrescu being a sucker for this kind of stuff deep in the back of her mind. she wants to be a breeding toy, she just doesn’t quite know it. lycan lover will help her out.

picturing them not being able to really speak while transformed. maybe a couple words here and there, but it’s difficult. they’re really mostly a monster right now. not so much of a monster that they won’t give her some sweet aftercare lovin’ while she cockwarms them due to the inflated knot being unlikely to go down for a good while, though. oh, and they’re Hung. “it won’t fit!” kind of hung, but they make it work 🥴

- 🐺

Hell yeah!🙌 My much needed reminder that I write smut? Perhaps XD At last, after months, poor Bela is getting some monsterfucking loving too, hm? XD Let’s get into it, everyone!

Masterlists

In one moment, she feels curiosity. In the next, her body tenses as a loud roar is heard echoing in the dimly lit cave. Bela bites down on her lip harshly, her bright, golden eyes scanning over the stony edges of the walls of the cave.

She feels slightly dizzy, her brain fuzzy, her limbs oddly heavy. A thick scent lingers in the air, one she feels strangely tempted to follow.

She can’t recall why she entered the cave in the first place, not usually one for such curiosity.

And yet..now she can’t seem to leave again. As if in a trance, she keeps on walking, uncaring of her heels scraping against the stone and muddy ground. She feels slightly cold, just enough for her to shiver, yet not quite enough to pose a threat.

She jumps a little when she hears a loud snarl again. What is she doing? She can’t seem to resist the scent clouding her judgement and senses.

Bela’s eyes widen slightly for a moment when- at last- she finds the source of this sound. A creature, curled up, yet monstrous in size. If it were to stand, she is sure it would be towering above her, and only stand slightly shorter than Alcina herself.

She keeps on walking, until she stands, frozen, right in front of the creature. Her eyes widen suddenly, as if only now aware of it. What is she to do?

To slay the beast? Gulping, she gazes around the cave, trying to find anything to use to her advantage. However..nothing. She scans the lycan-like monster again.

Large, muscular, with sharp teeth pointing out from its mouth. She shivers again. No, fighting the beast is not an option.

Still, as she stares the creature down..

Bela’s body tenses again, her eyes flickering over it. She sees the sharp claws, the strong torso…

Her eyes land on the large, still limp cock between the creature’s legs. Suddenly, the scent grows stronger, and without understanding why or standing any chance at resisting it, her body lurches forwards, and suddenly her face is smudged against the warm, oddly comforting thigh.

She sees the massive thing twitch, her eyes wandering over the thick knot wearily.

She can’t quite understand. All she does, is feel.

She feels her body submitting to the monster, her pussy aching and drooling, her heart yearning to be close. She doesn’t understand.

As if in a trance, her hands move across her body. She removes her cape and hood, then her dress. Left only in her underwear, stockings and heels, Bela positions herself along the creature’s large arm.

She doesn’t even notice she has begun rutting her clothed pussy against it.

Then, the creature stirs. Her eyes widen, and for a moment she seems able to rip herself away. She turns halfway to her swarm form fast, making for the way out. She recognizes it, is almost there..

Then, she shrieks, as large paw-like hands push against her back and force her to the ground, and the large creature hovers above her. She’s pinned, struggling against the dirty and wet ground.

Then, she tenses, as a long tongue drags against her neck. She shivers, her nose picking up on the creature’s scent that now sticks to her.

Another lick, and another. She feels dizzy almost, her pussy clenching and aching, yearning for the creature’s large cock. She feels shame; has she always been this easy? Surely not! Have years of neglecting her sexual side and sex with the staff turned her into this? Turned her into a slut easy enough to even get turned on by a lycan of all things?! What would Mother think!

Bela gasps when she is turned roughly, her head throbbing for a moment before she can realise what is happening. She feels and hears her clothing tear, sharp teeth and claws slashing through the skin tight dress and grazing her pale, porcelain skin slightly.

She doesn’t attempt to push the creature off, she can’t, and somehow, doesn’t want to. All she feels is its large cock, limp before and slowly hardening against her thigh. To her horror, the thing grows as it hardens, so the monstrosity turns to an even huger dick. She whimpers momentarily.

How could this fit? What’s going to happen to her? Will it breed her? Somewhere in the back of her mind she realises..summer is breeding season.

She gasps when the sandpaper-like tongue drags down her neck, leaving almost slimy saliva in its path. She shivers underneath the lycan, golden eyes taking in the monster’s form. Then, she jumps, when sharp teeth graze her hip.

Suddenly, her head is filled with the desire to be bitten, to be claimed in the most intimate and primal of ways. She yearns for it, suddenly, her mind foggy, her body yearning, her back arching as though presenting her to her captor.

The lycan snarls and growls, and the blonde yelps when she feels the strong tongue lick across her inner thigh next.

“W-Wait!”, she shrieks as a massive hand wraps around her thick thigh, and gasps when she is spread open. With a single bite her underwear is snatched from her, leaving her shivering as the damp air of the cave hits her privates.

To her embarrassment, she is already soaked, her clit pulsing, her lips glistening with the wetness that drips from her.

The beast straddles her fully, its large clawed hands grabbing onto her petite wrists and pinning them above her head. Bela is a mess of thoughts.

What is happening? How come she is enjoying this so much?!

She feels so wet, she needs this so bad.

Never has she felt this turned on in her life..

She must get back! She must escape! Mother will be furious! Cassandra will never let her live it down! Daniela will never give her a break from the jokes and mockery!

She must feel the massive cock in her..so thick, so strong, already twitching as it is aligned to hang proudly between her legs.

Bela whimpers as she feels the thick, glistening wet tip against her tight pussy. Having neglected her needs in favor of working hard, she’s impossibly tight for the large cock dangling between her thighs. Let alone the huge knot…

The thought strikes fear into her mind. How could she possibly take the massive girth? How could her pussy ever recover from the stretch?

How could she take such a large knot? How could it ever fit into her?! What if..

What if she is bred?

Her eyes widen a little at the thought. So what if she is bred? What if the beast pumps load after load of thick cum into her?

The proud heiress of Alcina Dimitrescu, the noblest of her sisters, reduced to a cum dump, made to become a mate and be bred until she carries a litter of lycans in her womb.

She gasps, then screams and moans, as the thick tip pushes into her. Its soft head goes in easily despite the tightness, and Bela moans when, after years, she finally feels full again.

Yet, upon glancing down, she sees that barely the tip has made it in. There is a lot to go, still, and she already feels it as warm, no- hot, precum drools from the monstrous lycan and right into her.

Her thoughts wander more and more the foggier her brain gets and the higher she seems to get on the pheromones and scent surrounding her.

How many lycans make a litter? Two? Three? Six? Seven? Twelve?! She can’t remember, but by the size of the knot sitting at the base of the cock, she must fear for the worst.

Her hip is grabbed, then a strong arm is wrapped around her. She feels more of the cock push itself inside of her.

Her back arches and she feels the arm around her tighten, then can’t help but giggle when she is lifted off the floor.

“A-AAh! AH! Gnmnn!”

She throws her head back, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she feels more and more fill her.

At last, she feels the knot pushed up against her stretched pussy.

“Ple-Please!”, she gasps. How on earth could she fit that knot into her?! As the creature’s hips pull back and the cock begins to slip out of her, she feels her pussy grip it tightly. It’s as though every part of her body tries to keep the monstrosity in her, as though despite what fears plague her mind, her body is eager and relentless to be bred.

For a moment, shame has her cheeks burn up and flush bright pink. She moans as she feels the long tongue explore her neck and grunts in pleasure as her captor’s hips slap back against her own.

“N-Ngnnm, yes! Y-yes! O-Oh god!”

They draw back, then snap to her again, making her jolt. She tugs her arms half heartedly, and unsurprisingly, the lycan’s grip only tightens on her.

She moans with every little drop of hot wetness that leaks into her. She gasps as thick and heavy balls slap against her ass, plap! Plap! Plap! With every thrust.

So thick..Bela’s head is thrown back as she merely thinks of how much cum they must hold inside. How much she will be made to cold inside.

“I-Oh..yes! Yes! A-Ah!”, she screams. She feels herself pushed closer and closer to her orgasm already within moments of this treatment.

But really, she can’t be blamed! Not when poor Bela’s pussy and body is unused to such treatment, when she clenches tightly around the cock and feels it stretch her more with every thrust.

And how can she be blamed, when she feels the thick tip push up against the back of her womb when it is fully nestled inside of her, when she feels the wet head rub up against her pink, spongy and wet insides.

She groans and moans, louder and louder and louder.

And the creature seems painfully aware of her state. She is grabbed hard and yanked about, her petite body used to practically jerk her up and down on the massive cock.

When she cums embarrassingly fast, tears begin to run down her cheek. Yet she yearns for more, fear and arousal filling her mind when she feels the heavy knot push up against her.

Even with a stretched pussy, she can’t imagine a single way such a thing could fit into her!

She gasps and moans loudly with every thrust into her wet and tight cunt. Each causes the thick knot to smack against her and nearly has her flinch each time.

Truly, she can’t grasp how such a thing could ever fit into her!

It seems, too, her monstrous captor couldn’t care less that she came. If anything, Bela feels the talons holding her tightening and the cock within her twitch.

Yes, she can imagine she is quite warm, wet and tight around the beast now. And still she gasps and moans high pitched with every little thrust and move into and out of her.

She is yanked and pulled, the rough treatment accompanied by almost sweet licks against her neck. She feels lightheaded already, little sighs escaping her thick lips here and there.

As she is fucked faster and she feels more and more precum drip into her, her attention is pulled to the fact she is being bred yet again.

And again, it feels her with a strange warmth that has her cheeks heat up, her ass clench and her pussy grip the cock stretching her sore tightly.

She wonders, will she bear a round stomach as she carries a litter of Lycans? The thought has her whimper and arch her back as best as she can.

Yes, she is already reeking of the creature, after all!

Will her breasts grow even larger and ache, so full of milk for her little pups? Bela gasps at the thought alone.

“N-A-AAh! AH! Ah! Yes! YES!”

She screams, loud and passionate, when she suddenly feels the teeth that have been rubbing against her neck push inside.

Warmth spreads throughout her body. She’s shaking, trembling and moaning, gasping and shrieking as she cums again. She knows, deep down, the bite has claimed her as the creature’s.

She groans when she suddenly feels cum be shot into her, massive amounts enough to cover her entire face- head even- if it was shot into it.

She squirms helplessly as she is pumped full of it, her arms held tightly, her neck forced still by sharp teeth, her pussy plugged with the cock as more and more cum floods her insides.

Her eyes widen as she looks down and finds her own stomach, growing more and more the more seed is pumped inside. She whines, her legs attempting to cross, her hips trembling in an attempt to move. But the large cock stays inside, and the beast only snarls angrily at her foolishness.

Soon, her stomach is round and full, large enough for poor Bela to let herself lean fully against the ground and the lycan, too weak and sore to carry the unexpected weight of her cum-filled stomach.

Already, it looks as though the monster impregnated her.

For a moment, the creature only pants. Bela catches her breath at last as she moves her hand to her neck, her bottom lip becoming trapped between her teeth as she feels two large bite marks on there. Blood smears around it, but below the sweet fluid, she feels the puncture wounds.

Then, however, her excitement is cut short and replaced by terror, arousal and fear.

The knot.

She mewls as it presses against her stretched pussy, harder and harder. She feels it throb and its warmth, its sheer size…

“It won’t fit!”, she pleads. The creature seems to think otherwise, as it snarls and growls, its grip tightening on Bela for a moment. She gasps when she is flipped over, so now her bare breasts are pushed up against the hard rock and muddy ground.

Her round stomach aches as it rests on the floor and poor little Bela whimpers in embarrassment as she feels more cum leak from her pussy again with every single breath.

She feels her leg be pulled to the aside and shivers slightly as the warm air of the cave hits her wet privates.

Then, she feels the knot push against her again. The monstrous lycan mounts her easily, its sheer size alone dominating the blonde.

Then, with a scream and a moan of pleasure, she feels it, finally. The knot, impossibly big, forced into her soaked pussy and sealing it like a plug. She whimpers and moans loudly.

She is grabbed tightly, her stomach a shameful, but arousal reminder of her new status as this monster’s mate and breeding puppet.

She gasps when there is even slight movement. More, and more. The creature can’t thrust into her with the knot in the way, but even the smallest of movements and turns give both insane amount of pleasure.

Bela is panting again quickly, her hands cupping her stomach and breast. She feels the blood pour from her neck, down her collarbone and past her breasts.

She feels her last orgasm of the day rising already within a few moments, her body seemingly automatically responding to the large knot inside.

When the creature bends down to lick her swollen stomach, she nearly cums from it alone. Yes…all this seed in her, the knot..she knows, she will be bred and impregnated.

Her cheeks heat up, her nipples harden, her ass clenches and tightens around nothing. Her pussy milks the cock and knot in her.

Bela whimpers and moans, pants even. She can’t bring her mind to think of anything but being what she is made to be now, a breeding toy. A future mother to a litter of lycans.

She thinks of her round belly, her sore and aching breasts leaking milk, a dozen little wolves running around.

She thinks of possessiveness, the one the creature has already showered her in.

A few more movements, and with a scream, the beautiful blonde cums again. She mewls as her mate does the same, the large, hard knot at least shrinking slightly in her.

She is held close as she whimpers and cries, her stretched pussy pumped full to the brink, so much so her own cum and the creature’s heavy, thick one. She feels the cum drip and smear everywhere, even.

Then, it seems over at last. Her eyes are heavy, her stomach even rounder and fuller. The knot rests in her, as if still acting like a plug that traps the creature’s seed in her.

Exhausted, she allows the large thing to shift her. She feels soft fur against her, and a gentle tongue running along her throat and stomach.

It’s almost..lovingly.

With a smile on her lips, she allows her eyes to slip shut

[fluffyweeby]

God dam I LOVE NIMONA SOO MUCH!! I’ve watched it 3 times now and it definitely wasn’t the last one! And NIMONA has such a potential to be a tickle monster shsgwhhshsh I love it too much.

So yeah my beloved tablet came back to me (kinda) and I’m back to drawing tk stuff!!

Stay Hydrated Everyone! 💜