#as a pre-emptive warning:

[tiffanylamps]

🔥🔥🔥🔥 of course, some beyond evil hot takes 🔥🔥🔥🔥 but also, what is some controversial opinion that you have about something entirely mundane :^0

ask me ask me ask me baby (Disclaimer: I started writing this, then had dinner, watched an episode of Bros on Foot, then had a shower and now I'm pretty exhausted (thanks rona + bad health). So my answers may seem a lil disorganised... they most likely are) Oh, gosh. I don't think I have that many opinions that are actually controversial when discussing be. But I shall still give it a go. I going to put a break here 'cause I really didn't know when to shut up. Also, sorry Iva but I feel like my answers are things we've already spoken about. So, I don't think any of this is new information to you 😩 TL;DR: Dong Sik and Joo Won shouldn't be represented by one aspect of their character. They're more complicated than that. (Including a mundane opinion at the end) (please excuse any weird funny business in this post (writing, grammar, spelling, clarity), we're trying our best here at Lamps HQ)

i. We as a fandom baby Dong Sik too much. I love Dong Sik. I adore him. He has seen and experienced far too many traumas, and I want nothing but good things for him in his future. What happened to him and his family when he was 20 was a tragedy that could have been avoided if the system (which should be in place to aid victims) wasn't systemically corrupt. He was beaten by police officers whilst in custody. He was framed and belittled, degraded, and humiliated. (the trauma he experienced is so layered and would take a lifetime for him to unpack and get closure from).

It almost completely ruined his life and future prospects, and it would have been done if Nam Sang Bae hadn't come in with his lvl 100 guilt and tried to make up for his actions. Dong Sik tried to make the best out of the awful circumstances that befell him and I sincerely admire him. Not everyone is as kind and loving as Dong Sik.... But but but... Buuuuut that doesn't absolve him of his actions. He murdered someone with his bare hands and allowed the system that was once put against him to be used in his favour.

Police officers shouldn't be murdering civilians. full stop. Yes, he was emotionally compromised- technically it could be seen as self-defence, but an unconvicted man, a suspect, was murdered and Dong Sik didn't face repercussions. Nam Sang Bae skewed the evidence so Dong Sik didn't get into trouble. Dong Sik took a year (?) off work after that event and to "help" him recover, Sang Bae got Dong Sik transferred to his substation (which Sang Bae had been demoted to as a result of one of his rookies dying on the job. Although, it wasn't deemed much of a punishment considering he was so close to retiring anyway). All the while, Dong Sik feels justified for his actions (as he did when he moved Min Jeong's fingers). (Screenshots from the translated script book/author's notes doc)

I think it's best that when discussing and exploring Dong Sik's character, we remember that he is a man capable of murder. He is a murderer. (Do I blame him for what he did? No, not really. I can see why he did it. Objectively, I fucking love it for the narrative lol). But yeah, he isn't a guiltless sweet baby angel who never did anything wrong in his life. (DISCLAIMER: obviously jokes are just jokes. I love them and I never want them to stop. I am super guilty of participating in this line of joking and I'm not about to stop any time soon. But when discussing DS in serious conversations, we shouldn't erase his history. By doing that, we are devoiding him of agency and retribution (which is one of the main arcs/themes of his character development)).

ii. Joo Won is autistic and people need to stop calling him stupid. I will die on this hill, I don't care. I fully encourage everyone to bully Joo Won, because, well, he fucking deserves it. I know that bullying him is a hilarious love language the fandom has developed and I fully participate in this pastime. I honestly love it. Yes, he has done a lot wrong and shouldn't be absolved of his sins (that being said, we should allow him the space to learn and grow. We should learn to forgive whilst still keeping him and ourselves in check). But where I draw the line is when people outright laugh at his characteristics/actions which are derived from the fact that Joo Won is coded as autistic.

I know not everyone is going to be particularly versed in neurodivergent symptoms and that is completely fine. I even didn't fully clock Joo Won being autistic the first time I watched the show- I "labelled" his actions as a result of one) his obscenely privileged upbringing and two) the fact that he (imo) has some degree of OCD (which is a type of anxiety disorder). Then it hit me one day that he is soooo autistic. A few examples (I'm too ill to list each one or go into full detail): 1- People say that he's a bad detective. Which, ugh. 2- That he should have seen the "obvious" signs that Dong Sik wasn't the killer earlier. This sentiment completely ignores the timeline of the show and the fact that the viewer is provided information that Joo Won doesn't have access to. And it also removes Dong Sik's accountability for being purposely obtuse and antagonistic. 3- the whole (very minor) narrative that joo won is lame because he has terrible people skills (or something along those lines, I can't quite remember the tags I read as it was a while ago). This one, in particular, ties in with Joo Won's autism coding. With a (relatively sound) understanding of what autism looks like in male adults, to me, it would seem that a lot of what Joo Won does (speaking bluntly, getting easily confused when provided a lot of information during an intense situation, overwhelm, struggling to gauge people's emotions/tone, being very black and white, hyper focussing on a topic of interest, struggling to adapt to new social environments, masking, issues with food and sensory stimulation, etc) can be credited to autism. Perhaps I'm connecting dots that don't exist and am projecting an ideal onto his character, but as someone who grew up with multiple friends and family members who are neurodiverse (and is neurodiverse myself), I can see so many similarities between Joo Won's actions, thought processes, and mannerisms to that of a person with autism.

^ (credit) here is an overview of some characteristics of autism in adults (obviously, it's a complex topic which differs from person to person. But I can definitely connect many of these examples to joo won's character and actions). [I feel like I could say a lot more about this subject, but it would be distracting away from the original point. I have thoughts on Joo Won masking and how he struggles to mask around Dong Sik]

How does this relate to Joo Won being "stupid"? One may ask. I will try to explain it as best I can (even though I don't fully have my answer planned out). Labelling Joo Won as stupid, as a stuck-up nepo baby who did nothing for the storyline, or just a useless dolt that needed Dong Sik to spoon-feed him, completely misconstrues the source material. Joo Won is intelligent, hard-working, determined, stubborn, foolish, annoying, pompous, proud, narrow-minded, snobby, short-sighted, dedicated, loyal, loving, persistent, and perceptible to change (and even more than that). We wouldn't have a story if Joo Won was stupid. We wouldn't have a conclusion if Joo Won was stupid. Downplaying Joo Won's intelligence and chalking up his characteristics as something that makes him less-than does a complete disservice to his character as well as his importance within the story. Beyond Evil is a story with TWO leads. It's not the Dong Sik show. I can NEVER subscribe to the act of bringing one character down in order to hold another up. Dong Sik is not this all-seeing, all-knowing, flawless character. If he was, he would have never been framed for murder, he wouldn't have been stuck for 20 years, and he wouldn't have needed help in uncovering the truth. He needed Joo Won (and Ji Hwa, Jae Yi, Jung Je, Ji Hoon, Du Soo, Sang Bae, etc). Without Joo Won, he may have never found out the full truth of what happened to his sister (as how many people in his life had a part to play in the traumas he faced). So, I think it's about time that people start to recognise Joo Won as a neurodivergent character (and stop giving him a hard time for not seeing signs that WE were given), as well as stop downplaying him. Kim Soo Jin, Sim Na Yeon, and Yeo Jin Goo created such a multi-dimensional, complex, flawed character with good and bad qualities, it does a disservice to their creativity and hard work when one belittles Joo Won down to one descriptor. Dong Sik and Joo Won aren't just the idiot and the downtrodden. They're more than that and fan interpretation shouldn't rewrite the facts of the show.

Anyway... there's a point in there somewhere... I think... I have no idea if I managed to construct a reply that makes sense. I don't think I fully relayed all my thoughts on this particular matter, but we live. tbh, I feel very icky when an autistic character gets labelled as stupid or useless. It gets on my nerves and if it wasn't obvious, I am pretty protective of Joo Won (maybe I shouldn't be, but... well... here we are!). Also, as a note: I don't expect anyone to agree with my opinion that Joo Won is autistic. But yeah, I was going to include more "controversial" opinions for be, but I have already said way too much. This post reads like a rant - which it probably is - and I don't want it to ruffle anyone's feathers. It's not an attack, it's just my opinion.

As for the mundane opinion: iii. kiwis are the scum of the fruit world. They're nasty and a lot of effort to eat (considering they don't taste great), and their texture is gross. But I do think their furry shell is pretty neat, even if it makes my skin cruel. (idk why this was the first thing that came to mind lol)

(sorry Iva. Maybe one day I will learn how to give short answers😂🫣)

[sunder-soul]

Funny reading the content warning: smut, on take a bite while I re-read it for the fifth time..... WHERES THE SMUT KING IM STARVING FOR PROFESSOR FATHER TOM

(obvs take your time but i will be on a hunger strike until i inhale that sweet smut)

Absolute filth incoming, much to think about 🧐🧐🧐

[ateliaers]

thesis statement for whatever the fuck i've got goin on with gaheris & loth on this blog

[extraneousdominomask]

one of my Little Buddies from fanfiction dot net has, in fact, just made a tumblr account

[yardsards]

Fair warning, princess-strawberry-sunshine had her blog deleted and is now back as princess-squidward

She’s like a cockroach she just won’t go away

every reasonable person at her:

like jfc can she STOP block evading and then being like ''teehee just block me if you don't like what i post" bitch i am fucking TRYING TO

[empressgwenny]

people who write big rules pages and tell you "i am not here to babysit you" but list all the things they will not do in an overly organized list or ask you to tag very uncommon triggers like lmao. i'm not here to babysit you, kid

im tired of ppl putting up walls of text to preemptively protect themselves. all you're doing is putting your anger and anxiety on display. it does not make me want to hang out with you. mostly it tells me you're pretty immature and can't manage your experience on the internet like an adult

[fangswbenefits]

Trance

Summary: Astarion is having a hard time trancing, and you offer to help him out in more ways than one.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Cockwarming. Body worship. Sub Astarion (if you squint). Breast play. Precum.

Word count: 2.1k

Astarion was restless.

You could see it clearly from the way he was pacing near his tent, not once stepping inside.

It was odd and unusual even though elves were known to only need a few hours of trancing to replenish their vigour.

Still, you figured maybe you should intervene.

“Astarion?”

You made sure your voice was loud enough for him to hear you from across the camp without sounding too alarm to wake the others.

It was enough to stir his attention, and he stopped in his tracks for a brief moment, before rounding the campfire, as he made his way towards you.

He looked positively drained when you crawled out through the opening of your tent, sitting on the carpeted floor.

“You look awful.”

He scoffed. “I'm quite sure I look far better than you, darling.”

You smiled warmly, knowing fully well it was just his automatic response to being teased.

“Well, what is it? Did you call me here to gawk?”

Astarion had this terrible habit of behaving like a temperamental cat that would make it everyone's problem if any minor inconvenience was thrown at them.

“You can't trace, can you?”

He crossed his arms. “I'm fine.”

Your smile parted your lips. “No need to get defensive, you big cat.”

That disarmed him only slightly.

He dropped his arms, but now held a deep scowl on his handsome face. “I fail to see how you can help out.”

The nature of your relationship with Astarion had longed moved from being merely a forced partnership between two strangers.

He had bedded you more than once and had poured his heart out even against his better judgement.

If there was someone who could help him out, it was you.

Lovers helped each other in various ways.

And he knew it, but his pride and reluctance to show vulnerability often got in the way.

Luckily for him, you had an idea of what could be useful in this case.

You stared down at your shirt and began to undo the top buttons in a very nonchalant way.

Astarion immediately rushed to you, crouching. “What are you doing?”

“This has helped before, right?”

His eyes widened at your silent proposal, but he didn't deny it. How could he? He adored your breasts way too much to turn away such an invitation.

“Are you offering to do it here, though?” he asked with an amused click of his tongue. “I didn't peg you for the exhibitionist type, darling.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks from his cheeky taunt, and you stopped halfway, realising it was enough to offer him a decent view of your chest.

And just like clockwork, Astarion's smugness began to slip as his lips parted in defeat.

It was rather easy to fully disarm him this way.

As such, you rose to your feet and walked back inside with him hurriedly following you, as you untied the strings that held the flaps apart.

You were covered when it came to visual privacy, but the two of you were known to get quite loud at times.

As you sat down on your bedroll, you tilted your head, gaze landing on his lower half.

“Maybe you should undo them.”

He glanced down. “Right.”

Honestly, he didn't have much of a choice. He always got too hard from this, and you wanted to pre-emptively ensure he was as comfortable as possible.

You watched as he tugged at the lacing of his trousers, making room for his cock to grow and thicken freely.

The entire act could be regarded as you merely taking care of him in time of need. 

Its foundation wasn't inherently sexual.

However…

 … it was rather difficult to ignore the rising throb in between your legs.

As much as he adored suckling on your nipples, your yearning for him nearly matched his adoration.

You moved to lay on your side, allowing your breasts to spill out from the shirt, nipples already hardening from the shift in temperature and state of arousal.

In the dark, you were able to spot his crimson eyes glinting briefly as he took the place next to you.

For a few seconds, you simply gaze into each other's eyes in silence.

He was visibly tired.

He needed to trance.

He needed to find comfort.

He needed you.

“Is there something troubling you?” you asked softly.

He snickered. “Besides the worm swimming about in my head?”

You nodded as he shifted closer to you, his cool hand at your hip.

You shivered.

But it was the good kind of shivers.

The type to swell your clit and quicken your heartbeat.

“Darling, we'd be up all night, and I really need the rest.”

Fair enough.

Some forms of distress were better handled this way.

You almost gasped as his hand moved to one breast, caressing the hardened nipple.

“Do you want me pressed up against you?”

Your heart skipped a beat and you pressed your thighs together in reflex.

Gods.

“Do you want to?” you retorted before your voice could crack under the weight of impeding lust.

He shifted even closer, as he squeezed your breast softly im a silent warning.

“I asked you a question.”

It wouldn't take long for you to soak through your undergarments and trousers.

Even though he was clearly exhausted, Astarion adored having you use your words to fuel his own arousal.

“Yes… I think I prefer it.”

This time, you did gasp when he began tracing circles around your nipple with the pad of his thumb.

“And why is that, my sweet?”

He was relentless and you were too transfixed to fight back.

“I enjoy how it feels…” you whispered.

His crotch was now too close to your own and you could feel your clit pulsing evenly from his taunting words.

“And what is it that you enjoy?”

You swallowed, pushing your hips into him. “I enjoy feeling you getting harder and harder…”

And Astarion groaned.

“You're too much of a tease,” he said before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You'd have me unravel with just words.”

You chuckled through the heavy haze of lust that pooled in your throat. “Likewise.”

He was already hardening against you. You could feel his cock twitch and you could tell he was fighting back the primal urge to roll his hips.

But now wasn't the time.

He needed something else.

His agile fingers kept teasing your nipple, drawing soft whimpers from you.

“I wonder how swollen your clit is for me,” he teased.

But before he could continue, you clicked your tongue. “You talk too much.”

And you moved until you were able to line your breast with his mouth.

His hand immediately dropped and you seized the moment to shove your nipple against his lips, which he promptly parted, welcoming it inside his mouth.

And then he latched beautifully around it..

The most effective way to silence Astarion was to keep his mouth busy.

Your back arched reflexively, as he began to suckle eagerly, hips still flushed against you.

It was hard to keep your thoughts straight from the sight of him hollowing his cheeks with each tug.

You raked your fingers along his soft curls, silently praising him.

His eyes fluttered shut and with an instinctive roll of his hips, you realised just how hard he already was.

It was almost embarrassing how soaked your were for him and how much your body yearned for his cock to be buried deep inside you.

“You're such a good boy…” you found yourself saying before you could think twice.

Astarion was addicted to praise, especially when it came from you.

So, naturally, he moaned in approval.

He looked positively ethereal from this position, completely drunk in you as comfort took over.

But he suddenly pulled away, half-hooded eyes meeting yours. “Call me that again. Please.”

He sounded… desperate.

Oh? This was new.

“And why is that?” you feigned ignorance, caressing his scalp.

He didn't enjoy having his own method of seduction being turned on him, but he was the needy one in this situation.

And so he begged.

“Please… it felt good.”

His twitching cock was proof enough of it.

You glanced at your nipple that was now swollen from his suckling.

“Come here,” you cooed, guiding it into his mouth once again, “and be a good boy.”

“Gods above…” he growled before latching, his hand snaking behing your back and pulling you harder against him.

At this point, you were beginning to wonder if his need to rest hadn't been shoved to the back of his mind.

He seemed way too alert for someone who intended on trancing.

But the answer came soon enough when he let go of your nipple once more.

“Turn around.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

There was hunger in his eyes. “I need to be inside you.”

It seemed that his submission had been short-lived, and he was once again taking control.

“Are you sure? You ought to rest,” you said, biting your lip and trying your best to ignore the gush of wetness that spilled from you as you clenched.

“I will rest once I'm inside you.”

He seemed determined enough with a sliver of despair dripping from his voice.

You weren't sure this would have the desired effect he sought, but you longed to be filled with him.

Dexterity was what he excelled at, and he swiftly helped you out of your trousers, baring you fully to his gaze.

You could feel your wetness coating your folds as your clit peeked between them, throbbing rhythmically.

A whimper escaped your throat.

A shiver ran down your spine as his fingers parted your folds, so he could stare in awe at how swollen your clit was.

He licked his lips.

“Turn around, darling. Allow me to feel just how warm and wet you are.”

You clenched before doing what you were told, rolling on your other side.

The cool tip of his cock nudged against your backside, smearing precum as he adjusted his position.

You arched into him, parting your legs just enough and bracing yourself for how you'd be struggling at first, even though you were drenched. 

His hand you leg high enough for him to be able to angle himself at your entrance.

You bit your lip and fisted the blanket under you.

His lips were at your ear. “I'll go slow.”

Well, he had to.

There was no other–

He rolled his hips and the tip began to stretch you, causing any coherent thoughts to be put on hold.

Gods… why does he have to be so thick…

“Clenching won't help… you know this by now,” he groaned in your ear, struggling to push along your tightening walls.

You couldn't help but to clench.

It was your own body's way of setting the pace.

“Let me sink fully into you.”

You moaned as he went on, and you placed your hand in between your legs, fingers finding his cock just so you could feel how much it was left for him to slide inside. 

He chuckled. “You adore doing that, don't you? Feeling how hard I am for you as you take me.”

You mewled a reply, keeping yourself from clenching as he sank until you felt his heavy balls against the tips of your fingers.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips as stilled.

“Such a good girl.” he praised, planting a kiss below your ear.

You caressed his balls, the motion causing the heel of your hand to rub against your clit.

You shuddered as he growled.

The difference in temperature would soon be forgotten as your heat enveloped his cock.

But Astarion had seemingly stilled for good.

He let go of your leg, allowing you to press your thighs together, as he wrapped his arm around you, hand settling in between your heaving breasts.

“Are you sure you can trance like this?” you asked, removing your own hand from between your legs.

His lips moved to the side of your neck. “I've been meaning to try this for too long. You're so warm… so tight…”

You clenched involuntarily around him.

“I know you crave my seed, but we should rest,” he said, sounding quite drowsy.

You wanted nothing more than to be filled to the brim with his cum, but that would have to wait.

The clenches were now sparse and far in between as you got used to the prospect of falling asleep with his cock stuffed inside you.

He was probably leaking insane amounts of precum, and that did put a smile on your face.

His cock twitched a few times more, before fully stilling, but as hard as ever.

“Astarion?” you whispered.

His head had slumped behind yours, and he seemed to have drifted off into the early beginnings of his trance.

Your clit was still swollen and begging for attention, but you were willing to sacrifice that if it meant falling asleep this way.

Masterlist

[rotatedaxis]

trying to stave of the post-gig depression that will probably be my next few days by not sleeping bc i think that show will leave me an inconsolable wreck, at least for tomorrow

[fanaticsnail]

Eyes Meeting

Masterlist Here. Part 2 here.

Word Count: 3,625

PLOT: Sanji is in a relationship with the ships chronicler. Zoro accidentally stumbles across them engaging together in intimacy. As soon as his eyes meet with the chronicler's, he is enchanted by their beauty in their bliss. Warnings: Smut, voyeurism, mdni, p in v, oral f receiving, "good girl" gendered term used, consent, throuple chemistry.

(Image Source)

Tag list: @sordidmusings@feral-artistry@gingernut1314, @vespidphoenix

The first time Zoro caught you and Sanji, he was placed with the task to request a meal for the Captain of the Going Merry. Luffy was hungry, and the chef was nowhere to be found. Zoro checked the kitchens first, followed by the crew quarters; the only members of the Straw-Hat crew located were Usopp and Nami, both hyper involved with their own personal tasks of tinkering and corroborating their findings before making port at the next suitable docks. 

Luffy was sleeping in the mens joint crew quarters, splayed over all four hammocks with his body melting between each of the woven sheets. No chef, no chronicler in sight. 

As he was about to give up the search for his two missing crewmen, he heard a chorus of voices melding together in the barrel of the crowsnest. It sounded like hushed conversation; no doubt sharing of ingredients needed to be procured and restocked in the next town. As Zoro made the climb of the ropes, he prepared a pre-emptive quip to piss off the chef in his head - all thoughts halting as his head peered over the barrel edge of the crows nest. 

Shirts askew, the darkened tie atop Sanji’s neck was firmly clutched within your fisted grasp. Pants pooled below his hips, your bottom half completely removed from your body all together and cast off beside you. The chef caged you beneath him, your hair splayed carelessly below you as Sanji thrust into you with the firm slap of thighs and hips meeting. Your legs were hooked over Sanji’s hips, his hand desperately raking up your flesh and grinding his pelvis into you with every deep thrust. 

Dual groans and mewls were cast into the air, silenced only by your restraint as Sanji continued to drill your bodies to chase their highs. You arched your back, cocking your head over to the side as Sanji pressed a desperate flurry of open-mouthed kisses against your pulse. Your eyes were closed, jaw slack and brow furrowed as Sanji continued to please you; blissfully ignorant to the presence of the swordsman who was completely oblivious to the fact that the two of you were in a relationship.

Until you opened your eyes. Eyes meeting immediately with the surprised expression of the tri-wielding swordsman. As soon as Zoro made eye contact with your glazed-over, lust blown eyes; his face tinted the deepest shade of red it could muster with its elevated flush. His breath hitched in his throat, the quip he had planned on uttering was flung hastily from all memory. He had never seen something so beautiful, yet so forbidden, in his life. You were breathtaking; even when caged below someone like the shit-cook. 

You quickly scrambled beneath Sanji, tapping his shoulder repetitively and warning him with your voice calling up at him. Snapping his eyes up, his gray gaze was met with the descending moss-colored hair as he bobbed beneath the wooden frame and hastily scrambled down the woven rope attached to the mast. 

-

“What is it, Dove? Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” Sanji hastily asked you, drawing up his right palm to collect your cheek. Your eyes were still wide with panic as they met your lover’s, who’s affectionate and concerned gaze immediately melted your heart.

“No, Sweetheart, nothing like that,” you reassured him, pressing a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose, “We-... -We had some company, that's all.” Sanji’s eyes widened, looking over to the edge of the crows nest. 

“Who saw-,” he began, halting his words as you confirmed his greatest insecurity.

“Zoro,” you sympathetically confessed. Immediately, Sanji’s cock softened; the mood tinting the air no longer filled with lust and desire at the utterance of his name. Sanji groaned in frustration, looking down to where your bodies once met and noticed the fresh pool of arousal coating your entrance. Perplexed and confused, he continued to look down at your core before looking to seek out your face; noticing you were glancing off to the side of where Zoro was priorly standing.

“And-... And you enjoyed him watching us? Us together?” His question sounded more like a statement, reaching down with his fingertips to pry apart your glistening folds. You gasped at the contact; shame and surprise both falling to you as he drew his fingers away from your entrance and presented to you. 

“Look, Dove! Look how wet you got!” He chuckled, his cock beginning to spring back to life at this small amount of knowledge. “Ohhh,” His taunting voice teased you, a suggestive and playful smile toying with you as he drew his hands up your thighs once more, “Somebody’s got a kink.”

“And you don’t mind-... Truly, Sanji? That this is-...” you trailed off, avoiding the unspoken question. Sanji sighed out a huffed laugh, looking down at you as he repositioned himself above you.

“My darling,” Sanji began, drawing up his hand to swipe a stray hair from your forehead to reveal your concerned face up to him, “I can share, you know. If that’s something you’re interested in, I am capable of playing nice.”

He slowly dragged his throbbing cock back into you, hunching his shoulders and huffing out a panted and strained breath of bliss. You threw your head back as you took in his entire length, body once again stretching to accommodate for his mass. 

“Even if it is with that stupid Moss-Head.” 

-

The second time he caught the two of you, he thought he was safe. It was two hours past midnight; the ship was lulling steadily with the crashing waves meeting the hull. The dull snores protruding from Usopp’s mouth was eclipsed by the growling roar of Luffy’s - both inhibiting the swordsman from acquiring adequate slumber. 

“Fuck this,” he uttered under his breath as he threw his legs over the side of the hammock and began his slow ascension towards the kitchens. Beer, he needed a beer. Perhaps even two. With a sake chaser, even. 

As the door opened, he first didn’t even see your body sitting within the right angle of the corner booth. Your eyes shut, head lulling back as you grasped the wooden table with your knuckles shaded almost white at the firmness of your closed fist. If he didn’t notice you, he surely didn’t notice Sanji beneath the table; with his tongue eagerly lapping your needy and desperate clit and raking his way down to your quaking entrance. 

Heavy thuds of boot covered feet broke you from your trance, Sanji’s tongue halting its movement momentarily as you both held your breath. Still as marble statues, you waited for the sleepless knight protector of the crew to retrieve what he desired and leave the kitchen for your private moment. 

Until you felt Sanji’s smiling lips press a mischievous kiss atop your inner thigh and trail dangerously close to your desperate, twitching and quivering clit. Your eyes widened in panic as Sanji tested a small, kitten lick against the pearled bud; prompting you to bite down hard on your bottom lip to halt a cry of bliss. 

At this muffled sound, Zoro paused his hands as they gripped the glass neck of a brown beer bottle within the refrigerator unit. He knew what was behind him. He could recognise that beautiful muffled melodious cry anywhere. That sound plagued his thoughts, eclipsed his dreams and drew many a fantasy to the forefront of his mind as he chased his own release within his fisted grasp. 

Zoro took in a slow and concentrated breath, retrieving two bottles of beer from the fridge within his right hand and turning towards the scene laid out before him. He completely ignored the fact he could see the matte, leather bottoms of Sanji’s black boots, and focussed solely on your expression.

“Chronicler,” he addressed you, gazing his hazelnut orbs directly into yours. You bit back another cry as Sanji pressed an open-mouthed kiss atop your sensitive nerve.

“S-Swordsman,” you managed to squeak out, hastily bringing your hands below you to attempt to draw Sanji’s face away from you. Sanji caught your wrists in his grasp and pinned them to the chair beside you. 

“You want a beer?” Zoro asked, his brow arching up as he slowly raked his eyes over your face. Your pulse was elevated and physically throbbing against your throat, your jaw clenched tightly shut and breath hitching.

“That sounds wonderful,” you grit your teeth as you attempt to halt Sanji’s lewd actions by closing your thighs around his head. He huffed out a laugh, bullying your legs to remain open as he dove back into making love with you with his tongue. He lapped, kissed and swirled his soft organ against you. Each twirled motion of his tongue had the pleasant scrape of his oral frenulum piercing against your flesh. 

Zoro narrowed his eyes, darting them between your lust-blown orbs. Your lip quivered, a lustful whimper threatening to spill over as Sanji continued flattening his skilled tongue against your clit and labia. Zoro’s jaw hung slack, watching your face attempting to hold back its contortion in bliss with sheer willpower and control alone. In two quick strides, Zoro was at the seat directly across from you and kicked it out with his right foot.

“This seat taken?” He arched his brow up, darkening his eyes at you with his own lust dictated with his blown pupils. 

“Be my guest,” you managed to huff out, fighting with all your might to halt your eyes from rolling back into your skull as Sanji’s firm grip continued to hold your hands in place. The approach of your stuttering climax was approaching dangerously close to the edge; your sanity almost tipping over as Zoro continued to make nonchalant and polite conversation with you.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asked you, uncapping both of the beer bottles and placing one in front of you.

“Not y-yet,” you gasped, choking as Sanji began to bob his head with each motion against you. The coil within your abdomen began to twist, your toes and calves numbing and tingling indicating how close your climax was, “You?”

“Somethin’ keepin’ me up,” Zoro nodded, raising the neck of the beer bottle up to his lips and maintaining eye contact with your own. You strained against the desire to rock your hips against Sanji’s face, keeping still your only course of action to remain concealed as to what exactly was occurring below the table. 

“O-Oh?” you quirked your head, a small strained laugh of anxiety falling from your lips as you began to panic at how close you were. 

As Sanji continued to work you up, nuzzling his face against your core and trailing sensual kisses and romancing your glistening folds with his skillful ministrations; all you managed to relay to the swordsman a small strangled apology.

“I-I’m sorry, Z-Zoro,” you whimpered, your eyes filling slightly with embarrassed tears, “S-San-... Sanji!” At that, the coil within the pit of your stomach snapped, your eyes unintentionally closing as your brows furrowed in bliss. Jaw hanging slack, you cried out an unrestrained strangulation of groans and whimpers as you unintentionally rocked yourself against Sanji’s face. Riding your high, the swirl of pressure slowly turned into overstimulation with the fervor to which Sanji continued to dine on your arousal; lapping and cleaning as you gushed on his face. 

As soon as you recovered, you reopened your closed eyes; noticing the concentrated and unwavering expression of the swordsman in front of you. He was hypnotized. He was stuck in a trance, experiencing empathetic pleasure from watching your face contort in bliss as Sanji pleased you. Embarrassment was quickly replaced with shock as Zoro stood from his place against the table and hastily drained the remainder of the beer bottle. 

He placed the empty glass container back down atop the table and stepped over to you. You fought the urge to cower away from him as he claimed your chin within his right thumb and index finger.

“Did you just cum on the cook’s face?” he asked you, face serious and eyes unblinking as he siphoned your post-orgasm honesty from your parted lips.

“Yes,” you confessed breathily, panting and recovering from your prior high. He hummed, looking down his nose at you before hastily stooping down towards you. Bringing his nose almost brushing your own, he circled your face with his own while remaining to firmly grasp your chin within his calloused fingertips.

Zoro smirked, huffing out a breath from his nose and drawing his lips up to press a chaste kiss atop your forehead. You gasped in shock, not expecting such a display of affection from the swordsman. 

“Good girl,” he smirked, releasing your chin and turning to walk away from the two of you. Pausing at the door of the kitchen, he turned to witness Sanji crawling out from beneath the table and drawing his smiling lips up into a cocky smirk.

“You’re an ass,” you whispered your reprimand at the chef, prompting an unrestrained chuckle to fall from his lips gleefully. You hastily drew your hands up and collected the beer Zoro offered you earlier and hastily guzzled down the liquid as a balm for your nerves. 

“Yes,” Sanji confessed to you with a chuckle, “But I’m your ass. And you,” he stepped closer to you, “Oh you. You loved that.”

-

The third time Zoro caught the two of you, you were again in the kitchen. As the Going Merry docked at port; you and Sanji opted to remain behind to keep the ship secure and ensure all stock was listed in full. Nami nodded, accepting that as a viable option for two crewmen to remain behind. Usopp shrugged and uttered words of bringing back tales of their adventures upon their return. Luffy was in too much of a rush to sample the local delicacies to pay any heed to the amount of crewmen remaining behind, his nose and stomach immediately leading him onward in venturing inland.

But Zoro knew better. He knew that as soon as the crew were off on an adventure; the two of you would be tearing off each others clothes and fucking over every inch of undisturbed surface presented - no longer plagued with the confines of remaining quiet to not disturb the slumber nor focus of the crew. 

And that is exactly where he found you, looking deeply into the eyes of your blond lover with a playful smile; one mimicked by the man in front of you. He stood in the doorway as inconspicuous as he could make himself - only to have that illusion shattered by a single call from the blond chef.

“Yo, Moss,” Sanji called over to the door, “You there already?” Zoro did not want to talk to the shit-cook. His cock was straining uncomfortably against the front of his pants, brushing the sensitive tip against his rough pants.

Zoro growled in frustration at him, stepping to fall into the light of the kitchen. Zoro was met with the sight of Sanji hoisting you upwards by your thighs and placing you against the teal benchtop. Your missing bottoms were lying askew with Sanji’s shirt and tie on the floor, as Sanji stood between your legs, fumbling with his belt but otherwise completely bare. Your bra strap hung limply from your shoulder, your breasts remaining perfectly secure within the cups but marked with a litter of kisses trailing up your clavicle to your pulse. 

“You staying for the show?” he teased him, releasing his pretty cock from the confines of his pants and teasing the tip between your folds. Shock and panic was written over your face, unsure of how to react to such a suggestion. 

“You want curbside?” Sanji called over his shoulder at the swordsman, slowly stretching you with his shiny tip; pulsating with the heavy flow of arousal, “Or front row.” 

Immediately, you clutched Sanji’s shoulders and raked your nails along their muscular curvature. Zoro couldn’t look away, your sultry eyes beckoning him to step closer with each slow blink. As Sanji began to pick up the pace of his thrusts, Zoro was pulled closer into the kitchen. 

Closing the door behind him, he, at first, attempted to play his enthusiasm down and made his way over to the sink. His actions halted at the first strangled cry of pleasure being pulled from your throat by the deep thrusts of the chef within your warmth. 

“You can call him over, you know,” Sanji whispered in a voice only audible to you before pressing a chaste kiss on your jaw, “You can even kiss him if you want.” At that small encouragement from your lover, you glanced over to the swordsman standing by the table; his knuckles white as they clutched the countertop.

“Zoro?” You called to him in a hushed whimper, drawing his attention immediately to you. Eyes meeting, he immediately began walking towards you and taking his desired place beside you. Sanji was relentless, not easing up his bullying pace against your entrance. With each thrust, your body quaked and legs shaked with the intensity of your excitement at this new aspect of your relationship. 

Your toes curled as the angular tip of Sanji’s cock brushed with the sensitive upper middle of your walls, stimulating your g-spot and causing you to cry out a strangled whimper of bliss. Snapping quicker, Sanji continued to thrust and propel the both of you to your mutual orgasms - your walls thumping and squeezing his sensitive shaft with each drag within your core.

“You gonna cum?” Zoro asked you, his face dangerously close to yours, “You gonna be a good girl and cum on the cook’s cock?” You whimpered again, nodding in confirmation as Sanji continued to brace you against the countertop. 

Hesitantly, Zoro broke eye contact with you and met Sanji’s eyes; wordlessly asking if it was okay to touch you with a pointed look. Sanji continued thrusting, nodding before placing his forehead against your shoulder and chasing his high. The swordsman drew back his eyes as he collected your cheek within his palm and pressed his forehead against yours. 

“You’re taking his cock so well,” he complimented you, raking his hand down to grasp the back of your neck; the back of his hand almost brushing with Sanji’s cheek as he continued thrusting into you. Sanji reached down and began to stimulate your throbbing clit with circular motions. Your lips hung agape as the peak of your orgasm began to toy at the final barrier - refusing to break until Sanji met his climax. 

“Go on,” Zoro encouraged you, brushing his chapped lips against your open mouth and gave you one final command, “Cum for him. Cum on his cock. I want to hear your pretty sounds as you come undone on his cock.” Zoro drew you in for a long kiss on your forehead, Sanji’s whimpers against your ear indicated he was about to spill his load within you. 

“Oh, Dove-... I-I’m-... I can’t-... hnfmm-...” Sanji’s strangled cries were paired with ropes of thick cum painting your walls with their pearled beads. As soon as his stuttered movements began to frantically chase and thrust, your walls began pulsating as white sparks danced behind your eyes. Zoro broke the kiss, his eyes meeting your own as you screamed past the overstimulation of your electric orgasm. 

“O-Oh, fuck,” Zoro whispered, his precum soaking his pants through his underwear. His cock twitched without stimulation, quivering in empathetic pleasure as it begged for a simple brush of movement. Without thinking, Zoro immediately thrust his hand into his pants, strangling his shiny knob in an attempt to halt his orgasm to no avail. 

His palm was coated with the sticky strings of his orgasm, shuddering as he rode his triggered orgasm against his fist to chase his release. He gyrated into his hand, riding with the same staggered thrusts that Sanji was stimulating you with. Zoro placed a bruising kiss against your forehead as he continued to ride his high into his palm - surprise overcoming the three of you at this unrestrained collective bliss. 

As you all came down from your mutual highs, Sanji removed himself from your arousal coated walls - a pool of mixed fluids leaking from your hole as you all began to regain composure. 

“So,” Sanji began, walking his naked form over to the sink and preparing several elements to clean the mess he created with you, “You like to watch.” Zoro growled, prompting Sanji to laugh in response. 

“I like to watch the chronicler, not you, chef,” Zoro growled, before realizing exactly what he was confessing. Shock overcame you once more. Too tired to care anymore, you turned to the swordsman and placed your hand on his shoulder; turning him to meet your eyes once more. 

“I like you watching us, Zoro,” you confessed with a shy smile. He returned your soft smile, pressing his forehead to yours and sighing down into your face. Sanji turned back around, witnessing his lover press themselves against the knight of the Going Merry. He smiled at the sight, knowing truly how it felt to be loved by you. He was surprised at how much he, too, enjoyed being watched by the swordsman.

Perhaps he enjoyed being watched so much that he might desire to be the one watching next time.

[idolomantises]

i dont know if bugtopia will ever develop a fandom, i just want to give a pre-emptive warning if it happens. its fine if people don't like it, you can disagree with their takes, but don't bully or harass them about it.

also i want to see fanart of my characters kissing or i'll kill everyone in this room and then myself

[dykealloy]

Trafalgar Law and Faith

Pre-emptive warning this is going to be another LONG metapost/analysis. There’s a lot I could talk about here but for the sake of structure I’m going to split this into three sections, i.e. the main ‘faith transitions’ that Law has gone through in the narrative thus far: 1. Flevance (catalyst for loss of religious faith), 2. Corasan (martyr that figuratively and literally saves law by giving him something to live for, introducing the will of D.), and 3. Luffy (cementing faith in this new belief system and regaining trust in the goodness of humanity through the living embodiment of everything Corasan believed in).

Before we get into all that though, let’s establish that Christianity is a thing in one piece. Speedrunning through some visual examples that come to mind; the Flevance church and nun (holding a celtic cross - censored in the anime version), a nun literally praying to God right before Marineford, Vinsmoke Sora’s grave marked with a cross (is op Christianity a northern thing?), Usopp and Chopper having crucifixes and holy water whenever ghostly stuff is brought up, Kuma and his trusty bible, the religious symbols on Kikoku’s hilt (could instead be more a reference to the Red Cross/symbol of humanitarian and medical aid as a doctor) and especially in whatever Mihawk’s got going on (though this could just be a Japanese cultural thing with Christianity being a minority religion or Oda just finding that some of the iconography, y’know. looks cool). There are also many other references to other religions e.g. hinduism, shintoism, buddhism, etc. Whether op forms of religion are the same as the real-world ones is debatable, and yes, Law being canonically raised as a devout catholic schoolboy with all the religious trauma associated with that is comical, but let’s take it all unironically for a hot minute. For fun. 

1. Flevance

Law’s birthplace (Flevance) is described as being, at one point, “a very wealthy country with an unearthly beauty about it, with pure white soil and plants, like some kind of snow kingdom in a fairy tale.” The country’s wealth came from the very bedrock it sits on — white lead, which could be used to make various high quality products like tableware, cosmetics, weapons etc. When the wider world heard about this everyone wanted a piece of Flevance (the World Government also getting involved with distribution), and very quickly white lead became a “bottomless well of money”. So, hooray. Law gets to grow up in a rich city in a big house with educated doctor parents and probably gets to go to private school on weekdays and festivals with his family on weekends. One problem. In their greed, the Government and royalty have been knowingly hiding the truth about this supposed goldmine from the beginning. White lead is a toxic poison. Mining it from the ground over the last century and putting it in so many everyday products has resulted in it accumulating in the citizens’ bodies and leading to amber lead sickness, shortening their life-span with each successive generation – with the children of Law’s generation fated to die out before they reach adulthood.

In the bible (especially in the old testament), God often inflicted these insanely disastrous events upon humanity, usually as some kind of punishment for their wrongdoings or as a test of their faith. Some events of which include (but are not limited to): famine, outbreaks of disease and natural disasters (e.g. hail, wildfire, earthquakes, floods). Historically, these stories played a key role in how humanity interpreted meaning from horrible disasters (e.g. assuming bubonic plague was sent as a punishment by god). Fire imagery is very common among these disasters as a representation for hell, which is clearly reflected in the destruction of Flevance.

Sometimes these disasters had sole survivors act as messengers for God. With that context, let’s put ourselves back in the shoes of a ten-year old Law. Raised religious, freshly traumatised from losing his home, his devout family, all the comforts of his life, and having the outside world completely abandon him, this kind of event is likely going to be processed as some form of divine punishment. Law stumbles through hell, finds all his dead classmates, and the last words of sister nun echo through to him here. Merciful and salvation are huge catholic buzzwords – promises of holy compassion, deliverance and hope – and all of it fire and smoke and riddled with bullet holes before him. A genocide funded, perpetuated and covered up by the same body Law was promised was there to save them. And the only reason Law hadn’t died with them was because he wanted to stay with his little sister Lami, who was on her deathbed, and his parents, who were themselves trying to help the afflicted citizens, Law’s own father (before he was shot and killed alongside his mother) begging for more doctors, fresh blood, anything the world can offer, and asking “Why doesn’t the government announce to everyone that white lead is not infectious?”

Oftentimes (and in the case of Law), when there’s a promise of heavenly intervention or some miracle that doesn’t follow through, it results in an ultimate feeling of betrayal and anger. Unfortunately a lot of Catholic teachings also use a lot of guilt, essentially teaching people that the bad things that happen to you are your fault and there needs to be some sort of penance (queue Law’s survivor’s guilt that carries on down the road). But also, if this was supposed to be some divine punishment, for what exactly? For the town being blinded by the incredible wealth they were sitting on? Being lied to? Continuing to extract their livelihood, ignorant of its dangers? Punishment for who? His parents? His innocent little sister? For ten year-old Law? These people who believed in God, who were good people? That’s fucking stupid. None of these people suffered and died for any reason at all — certainly not for a sacred one. God hadn’t saved a single one of them. Law had to crawl out of hell himself by sneaking over the border under a mound of corpses.

Given everything that happened here, Law has every reason to fall into nihilism, and you can see how his upbringing would’ve bred a lot of the feelings of guilt, anger and resentment that you still see in Law (which would suggest that though this is where he likely cuts ties with the religious/Catholic component of his faith, growing up with these teachings in his formative years would definitely influence underlying beliefs about how the world works, and how Law behaves and subconsciously processes information), but at the same time, there’s usually some form of redemption and changes to how these patterns of behaviour can be approached later down the line.

2. Corasan

Fresh off witnessing his whole world burning down around him, Law meets Corazon at the very bottom of this pit of self-destructive rage and unprocessed grief. Rosinante himself mentions to Sengoku that the hatred in Law at this time reminded him of his brother, but beyond the anger, harsh pessimism, vengefulness, I think you have to reach to find similarities between them. You can see some fragments of Doffy in Law down the line at times, with Law seeming to enjoy violence (especially against the navy, but given what they did to Flevance, it’s some well-deserved retribution for Law imo), but I’m not so sure it’s the cruelty so much as it is the high he gets off his own flavour of justice. Doctor’s Hippocratic oath maybe, but never once does Law like seeing others die (even at this point, he’s in tears next to a dead body, even though he’s the one holding the knife), and later on in Wano he makes it explicitly clear to Zoro that he’d rather see the mission fail than have any of them end up dead.  

Little Law wanted to destroy the world and everything in it, but thinking rationally, what other choice did this kid have? He had no remaining family, was doomed to die before he hit puberty due to a terminal illness, was perceived as an infectious subhuman that most doctors would’ve sooner tried to exterminate than help. To Law, the world had turned its back on him – considering him a monster for simply surviving. He has all this hatred and pain boiling away with him with no tangible target to direct it towards. And this is the first clear cut rejection of faith that we see in Law. Any concept of a merciful God had just died. What God would allow this? Why is Law alive (a question that he repeats to himself throughout his life), why are these scumbags alive, why is the world going on spinning as if nothing has happened when his whole world had gone up in flames, why does anyone at all get to be here when everything I loved is gone? And it’s far easier to fall into a despondent nihilistic stupor than it is to work through any of that, and what’s the point in trying to process and move on from it, when there’s no hope for a future for Law anyway? When the only thing waiting ahead is more pain? What was this, if not a punishment? He’s supposed to be some messenger for God? How about fuck God, or whatever entity that exists that made him suffer this. Law’s not going to be a messenger for shit, thanks, he’d rather be their monster, he’d rather watch the world burn.

Corazon survives Law’s stabbing and doesn’t rat the little shit out (to Law’s confusion). It’s business as usual for another two years, then, one day Rosinante overhears his true name - Trafalgar “D” Water Law, and everything changes. On the back of his own beliefs, Rosinante dedicates himself to making sure Law a) lives and b) doesn’t become his brother. Law’s relatively short six month stint with Corasan forms the basis of Law’s new creed going forward, and all it took was a bit of kindness, love and humanity when the rest of the world had abandoned him. In the end Rosinante doesn’t save Law for the will of D. and the storm he’s predicted to bring in the future (as Law suspects), but he certainly believes in it, and the strength of Corasan’s conviction transfers right over to Law when he forces the ope ope fruit down the kid’s throat to heal him, tells Law he loves him, then sacrifices himself to set Law free.

Law clings to that love he was given, he takes all these fundamental teachings and ways of thinking in regards to faith that were drilled into him during his youth, rejects the religion element and applies just about everything else to Corasan. He holds onto the last shreds of what Corasan leaves him with. Corasan becomes his “benefactor” (he gave my my heart), his saviour, his martyr. 

And the crazy thing is, Rosinante was never really this saint Law makes him out to be. Law hated the clutz when they first met (mostly on account of Corazon throwing him through a glass window down at least two stories and into a pile of scrap). Corazon initially showed nothing but contempt for his presence (to ward him and the other children away from the Donquixote family, but these are still extreme measures). And it wasn’t until after learning Law’s name that Rosinante dragged him kicking, crying and screaming from hospital to burning hospital (not very saintlike in of itself), even after Law begged him to stop. Rosinante became Law’s saviour partly because of his belief in the will of D., and probably due to some guilt being a Donquixote, but mostly because he has always had a bleeding heart and he pitied (and had very quickly come to love) this angry, sick, deeply lost little kid. All this to say that Law’s faith in Corasan – this saintlike figure Law upholds him as in the future and the lengths he’s willing to go to avenge him/fulfil Rosinante’s purpose reflects the strength of the absolute beliefs Law would’ve been raised with in regards to God.  

Whether it be out of survivor’s guilt (just one more body to heap on top of the Flevance pile), his love for Corasan, or for the sake of taking vengeance on the man that took away the one good thing he’d been able to regain in his miserable life, Law adopts Corasan’s will, the will of D. (which in of itself seems divine in nature), incorporates it into his new belief system, actively takes on the role of the divine punisher/justiciar and dedicates his life to bringing down Doflamingo.

3. Luffy

Catholicism dictates that the entirety of someone’s beliefs should be dedicated to one true cause (that cause being God) and expects people to ride on that, letting it carry them through life, give them hope, purpose, etc. But a lot of former Catholics choose instead to find that through something else. Corasan ignited the spark in Law’s faith around the will of D., but it’s not until he meets Luffy that this really becomes something that feels tangible and real for Law.

When Law saved Luffy in Marineford (putting the heart crew in danger for a stranger he met once), he said he did so “on a whim”, but that seems incredibly ooc for Law — this man that pretty much planned out how the rest of his life would go after the dust of Corasan’s death settled and he came to terms with the fact he wasn’t going to die at age thirteen like he’d originally thought. Circling back to the concept of Law being a sole survivor/messenger for God, it is interesting that Law is the one to seek out Luffy (given that Luffy is usually always the one either being abandoned by people or recruiting his crewmates), and Law is ultimately the catalyst for pulling him towards Dressrosa and Wano. There must be a REASON that led to Law deciding Luffy to be the most viable option out of the Worst Generation for an alliance (beyond blind trust in an unhinged captain that just so happens to also bear the initial D, and Luffy being one of the few captains crazy enough to go along with what Law was cooking up). 

Law undoubtedly would’ve kept a peripheral eye on Luffy for some time before officially meeting him due to him being a rising competitor pirate and another “D” (I imagine the news of his utterly insane exploits would’ve made good reading material, too). The first time Law lays eyes on Luffy in Sabaody though, he still blows all expectations out of the water — crashing headfirst into the crowd of a slave auction and immediately committing a felony against a member of the most powerful upper one percent.

The world nobles are at an “untouchable God” tier in terms of class standing and believe it’s only natural for them to be entitled to whatever and whoever they want in this world that’s beneath them – the same kind of self-aggrandizing false divinity that Law has a a lot of repressed rage towards and that the will of D. is fated to oppose, so this, understandably, is a highly compelling first encounter, but it’s really only an initiating factor for what ultimately draws Law to Luffy. From their very first meeting (and probably before then, in the news stories and rumours Law likely picked up on), it’s made abundantly clear that Luffy does what he wants without a second’s hesitation, no matter the consequences, simply because he feels it is the right thing to do. Some call this an iron will, Law would be more inclined to call it willful stupidity and trouble, but time after time Luffy somehow manages to pull off what Law would best describe as “miracles”. And Law believes the straw hats just might be the ones to drum up another one for him.

Luffy’s also got a lot of passing resemblances to Corasan going for him, e.g. inherently kind, compassionate liberators with big dumb hearts and wide goofy smiles in spite of everything they’ve been through, treating Law as nakama and saving his life despite his protests etc. All of which I’m sure Law hasn’t been completely unaffected by despite the high walls he puts up. And the more Law learned about Luffy the more it probably became clear that he is the antithesis to Doflamingo, i.e. what makes Luffy so goddamn dangerous and terrifying beyond his physical power is his ability to make friends with a simple kind of unconditional love that gets reciprocated enough so that these friends are willing to die for him.

Luffy agrees to the alliance, they successfully blow up Caesar’s base, and head off to Dressrosa. Now’s the time I should bring up that it’s taught in Catholicism that self sacrifice is the ultimate heavenly deed, and here Law is undoubtedly prepared to be a martyr for his cause. Law sends away his crew to Zou before Punk Hazard with the expectations that he’d never see them. He cultivates a fierce emotional detachment against Luffy’s willingness to bring him into the fold of the straw hats, and is resolute in that when the time comes, he will handle this himself, he will carry out Corasan’s will, and if he has to die for it, he will die with Corazon’s name plastered on his back. (Note here that Christianity is contradictory in that Law being this ready to die here is a sin, because revenge and suicide are highly discouraged, so you could say that by avenging and dying for his saviour, Law would be committing both the ultimate sacrifice and the ultimate sin).  

Things get very dicey for Law in Dressrosa, to put it lightly. Doflamingo reveals that he was a celestial dragon (linking back into the will of D. “enemy of the Gods” notion), puts Law on the backfoot and gives him a thorough beating before shooting Law with a couple dozen white lead bullets in front of Luffy (because even when he’s winning Doffy loves to be a cunt about it). By the time Doflamingo is cuffing Law to the heart seat, it’s all looking pretty grim, and it’s very apparent when Luffy shows up to save him, that he is ready to die. 

Law here has given up. He spent years planning his revenge for Corasan, but he lost, and he has very little left in the tank (physically, emotionally, spiritually). But Luffy doesn’t listen. Luffy who doesn’t think, doesn’t care, who trampled all over Law’s carefully laid out plan from the get-go and who is willing to take on Doflamingo single handedly for the simple slight that he dared to harm Luffy’s friend Law. Law will never find peace in his own demise because Luffy doesn’t do peaceful. He does loud and unashamed and open with no rhyme or reason other than the excruciatingly simply fact that he loves people and he thinks the people he loves deserve to have good lives. Luffy chucks Law over his shoulder and drags an injured Law across the city despite his protests (sound familiar?) and in the process inspires the fighting spirit in Law again.

When Law confronts Doflamingo again with Luffy in tow, Law’s faith in Luffy confounds him. The last Doflamingo remembers of Law is this beautifully moldable dark pit of grief and rage who’d given up on believing, period – who wanted the world destroyed. Not so long ago, Law had been a candidate for Doflamingo’s next protégé. Now?

THIS is the action (grinning, staring down the barrel of a gun, flipping Doffy off as he tells him in not so many words that he may kill Law but he will never beat Luffy), Law’s unshakeable faith in the face of his own death is what has Doflamingo realising he will never regain control of Law again – is what incites Doflamingo to go from breaking Law down so he can build him back up again, to conceding defeat and outright killing him. 

The trust that Luffy inspires in Law and the way he talks about Luffy (Luffy being this powerful, miracle-inducing liberator that Law can’t comprehend but follows anyway, Law laying down his hopes on him, weaponizing the will of D. to try and provoke fear from Doffy), is very reminiscent of the awe and faith talked about in scripture. Law discovers the feelings of comfort and hope that Catholicism was supposed to give him in Luffy, but Law’s belief in Luffy is a direct rejection of those teachings. Rejection by believing in a real life person as opposed to the divinity he was taught about. He’s also cementing his belief in the will of D., thus rejecting Doflamingo and all the people that embody the sort of “all powerful” divinity that he abhors (i.e. celestial dragons, Kaido, the Gorōsei/five elders) for the embodiment of hope and humanity. 

When Law survives (again), he expresses he’d rather see Luffy beat Doflamingo with his own eyes or die with Luffy if he loses than leave. Then he watches, after all this talk of miracles, looking up in reverence as Luffy delivers, bright as the sun, haloed by the bars of a cage that’s haunted him for over a decade, Corasan’s words echoing at the back of his mind. God had never saved or freed Law, but Corasan was there for him, the heart crew was there, Luffy was there. And this is Law’s biggest, clearest rejection of religion – this newfound faith in humanity. 

This faith in Luffy is put to the test again in Wano when Luffy is struck down by Kaido, but Law never truly stops believing that he’ll make a comeback. Even when the straw hats doubt whether he’s alive or not, something tells him Luffy’s not dead, and he holds onto that hope. 

We also have the whole nika/joyboy backstory which really only reinforces all of this imagery/god-fearing looks of awe from Law and this idea of Luffy who is this perfect juxtaposition of empathetic and kind to incredibly fearsome fire and brimstone fighter. And regardless of whether you’re into the ship or not this is the impetus of Law’s relationship with Luffy for me, because here’s Luffy who has every right to have a chip on his shoulder and be downtrodden about all the injustices against him, here’s this little guy who against all odds, in the darkest of places, embodies light and hope and kindness and proves to Law that there will be hard times but there IS a happy ending at the end of the tunnel, despite it all. And everytime Luffy rises to the insurmountable challenge and wins, it just further cements that the will of D. is alive, that Corasan was right, that there's something redeemable in Law, a reason why he was worth saving, even if Law doesn’t understand it quite yet. 

[mypoisonedvine]

Neil Lewis is definitely that weird guy in high school that thinks he has a chance with the cheerleader captain. Request is noncon with Neil maybe following her into the locker rooms after practice and while she’s showering-yeah. She stayed behind to shower while everyone else went home.

OMG INCEL NICE GUY NEILLLLL OMFGGGG

warnings: NONCON SMUT (18+ only!! dark!!), misogyny kink, stalking/voyeurism, 'nice guy' rhetoric, degradation, jealousy, slapping, hair pulling, forced creampie

"I just wanted one chance," he reminded you as you tried to cover yourself with your hands.

"How the fuck did you get in here?!" you yelped, quickly turning off the water and trying to reach for your towel-- but he stepped in the way, smiling at you.

"It's just a door, anyone can walk through it," he explained with a condescending chuckle, before furrowing his brow at how you tried to shield your naked body from his gaze. "No real point in doing that, is there? I've already seen everything."

"How long were you watching me shower?" you wondered with a disgusted frown.

"A while, but that's not what I meant-- it's not the first time I've seen you naked, I mean," he clarified. When your eyes widened, he answered your next question pre-emptively. "Stacy Gawthrop's party? The guest bedroom? I saw you and your idiot boyfriend getting it on, got a little show... you guys really should lock the door before doing stuff like that."

"You weren't even invited to that party," you remembered with a scoff.

"That's what you're concerned about? I told you I watched you get railed and you're worried that I wasn't invited?" he laughed coldly. "God, you're so shallow. I can't believe I actually like a girl like you."

"Can you please just leave me alone?" you whimpered, heart racing faster as he stepped closer to you again, cornering you against the tile wall; there was a devious sparkle in his eye, something sharp about his smile as he looked down at you.

"The point is, I watched him fuck you," he went on regardless, "and I knew I could make you scream louder than he could. And now I'm here to prove it."

He shoved you back as you winced, pressing himself against you, soaking his gym clothes with the water on your skin. "Get off me!" you yelped as he tried to force a kiss-- but when you turned your face away, he smacked you hard, which only hurt more with the water on you still.

As you tried to grab your face to soothe the sting, he snatched you by the wrist tightly with one hand-- the other he brought to your chest, groping you as he hummed proudly. "You really shouldn't show these off so much," he scolded. "Guys can't help but think of... well, of doing this."

He knelt down enough to catch one in his mouth, sucking almost too hard on your nipple until you whined. "N-Neil, stop!" you gasped, sobbing a bit when his teeth grazed your delicate skin.

"Sure, baby-- tell yourself you don't want this," he purred, before tilting his head the other way and lapping happily at the other. "I know you fucking wanted me-- you just can't admit it, 'cause a girl like you with a guy like me is 'social suicide' or whatever."

"I told you to j-just leave me alone!" you panted, trying to struggle again only for him to come face to face with you-- his expression tinted with the rage you remembered from the last time you rejected him. He refused to believe that you genuinely found him creepy and irritating, and apparently maintained his delusion that you were just afraid of what would happen if your boyfriend-- or anyone else, for that matter-- found out. Even though that wasn't the primary reason, you had to admit you were very anxious about somebody walking in and seeing this.

"If you don't want me," he challenged darkly as one of his hands slipped down to cup your mound rather aggressively, "then how come you're wet?"

He dragged his fingers through your folds, far too much pressure on such a sensitive place, and your knees quivered. "S-stop, Neil, I'm serious..."

"Shut up, whore," he growled, spinning you around and slamming you against the wall again as you cried. "Just do what you do best and spread your legs, hm?"

You obviously didn't, but he kicked them apart anyway, shoving his shorts down and making you whimper as he rubbed his cock against your ass. And while you were a bit wet, for reasons you couldn't explain, you certainly weren't wet enough... not for how thick he was. But he shoved himself in anyways-- one quick, hard thrust that made you cry out from the sting of the stretch.

"Ah, fuck, that's good-- it's so good," he moaned, dropping his head on your still-damp shoulder and starting to thrust into you quickly. He had no patience at all, jackhammering into you and holding tight to your hips as he groaned deeply. "Guess that stupid boyfriend didn't stretch you out much, huh? You're still so fucking tight, baby..."

You tried to hide your face under your arm, anything to get away from him, but he grabbed your hair by your scalp and yanked it down, exposing your face and making you cry louder. "Neil, please!" you begged through your tears.

"Oh, don't talk like that," he warned, "I don't wanna finish too fast. But fuck, you look so cute trying not to show how good it feels..."

Good isn't really how you would've described it... it wasn't just painful, but it hurt-- he was too big, you weren't used to it yet, and he just seemed to go faster and faster with each passing moment. But there was a sick pleasure to it all, something about the way he reached so deep inside you... he was at least right about one thing: your boyfriend had never made you feel like this before. You weren't sure if you'd ever be able to face him after this, for more than a few reasons.

"Baby," he praised, biting down on his own lip to muffle a moan, "quit squeezing me like that, you're gonna make me come."

"D-don't," you tried to plead, as if it wasn't inevitable. Just the way he kept going, grabbing a tighter hold of your hips, moaning lowly against your ear... it was not only inevitable but imminent.

"I'm close," he warned under his breath, "fuck, look what you do to me--"

"Not inside, Neil, please," you choked, but he ignored it, moving faster and moaning louder until it all slowed down to a stop, his cock flexing with every stripe of come that painted your insides. You hung your head defeatedly, feeling sick to your stomach as the reality of what just happened began to sink in.

"Shit," he hissed, "I didn't think I'd come that fast..."

"Fuck, Neil, I-- I could get--" you started, too scared to even say it.

"Aw, don't worry baby," he cooed, kissing your cheek sweetly just before another tear fell across it, "I'll be able to go again in a second."

[barefoothighlander]

absolution - it will come back

-simon 'ghost' riley x wife!reader

-warnings: canon typical violence, mdni (18+), death, smut, fingering, p-in-v sex, creampie, jealous!ghost, praise, mentions of alcohol, unwanted male attention

-word count: 4k

-summary: you and the 141 set out for your first mission together, enduring the challenge and everything that comes after

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a/n: alright finally got around to writing this chapter, just a pre-emptive warning, this fic is gonna have a fair amount of smut just in case you don't like to read it, or if you just want to skip over those sections. Also if you got the notif for this at 5am... no you didn't.

The air was thick with dust, it settled in the air after the disruption from a few select explosives, courtesy Soap, you were positioned high on an old building, a few miles out from the target building. You had been laying there for over an hour, settling yourself before the rest of the team got into position, you and Ghost had made a point to keep a distance between the two of you, trying to avoid any sort of detection from the team. It wasn’t hard to distance yourself from him, you were married to Simon, not the Ghost, yes, you were acquainted with his alter, but that was a side of him that left when he came home, it had been years since you came face to face with the Ghost, welcoming him back almost as an old friend.

You started getting restless, your clothes suddenly feeling far too heavy on your body, shifting slightly from your position, you readjust your scope before you hear a quick whizzing beside your ear, stopping for a second to figure out if you had simply imagined it another shot. “Shit” you whisper to yourself. In your movement the sun had caught on your scope, reflecting it toward the target building, and someone had spotted you. Quickly disassembling your rifle you turn on your comms.

“Captain this is Strider, I’m compromised, moving to position two”

“Copy Strider, make it quick we’re about to breach”

You descend through the building, running through back alleys to avoid the public gaze, making your way as fast as you can to your secondary position, you and Price had strategized a handful of points for you to position in, in case of anything going wrong. You make your way to the second position in time to watch the 141 breach into the building, hearing the all-too-familiar sound of gunshots ringing through your comms. You hear the team call out their positions, adjusting your sight to get a good view of each individual member.

“Strider, I’m headed up, you have eyes?” Soaps voice calls through your earpiece.

“Negative, Johnny” you respond back

“Strider I’ve got two coming out, east side, do you have eyes on them?” Ghost asks

You take a breath, and fire two rounds.

“Count, two down east side” you answer back.

Ghost can’t fight the smirk that creeps up on his face under his mask, he’s seen you work first hand and he’s always been impressed, rarely did you miss a shot. The men continue clearing the building, calling out any targets they need you to take care of, and killing the rest themselves.

“I don’t see any more movement in the building,” you say

“Copy, ears out for the hostage” Price responds

“Captain the buildings are empty” You hear Gaz say

“Are you sure Sargeant?”

“Positive, no one’s here”

Price curses to himself and calls for the men to exit the building and meet at the rendezvous point. You follow his orders, packing up your rifle and making your way once again through the streets. You arrive at a rundown warehouse, greeted by the rest of the team, you look around and everyone has a worried expression painted on their faces.

“I’ve contacted Laswell, she’s reaching out to contacts to try and track down the target,” Price said to all of you

“So what now?” you ask

“We regroup at the base, I have some calls to make, we move from there”

The group nods in agreement and you all make your way to the cars outside, settling into the passenger beside Price, and in front of Gaz. The ride was quiet, aside from any small conversation made by the three of you, Gaz inquiring about your history with the military.

“I spent 5 years with this team in the States before transferring to the base in England.”

“What’d you do in the states”

“Um, mostly hostage negotiations in the middle east”

“So why transfer?” Gaz asks

“What do you mean?” you respond, turning to face him

“Well why leave your team? I mean you spent 5 years with them, I can’t imagine what would’ve brought you to the UK”

“Needed a break from field word I guess, before this op I mostly spent time training recruits and dealing with paperwork”

“Huh” Gaz nods, you quirk an eyebrow at his response. “It’s just, I’ve read your file, over 400 confirmed kills from just 5 years, seems like alot of talent left on the field”

You scoff at him.

“I didn’t mean it that way I just-” He raises his hands defensively.

“Better stop now Sargeant, before you’re in too deep” Price says, laughing to himself

You huff a laugh, “It’s alright Kyle, I just found something more important than field ops” 

“A guy? Did you leave for a guy?” Gaz’ face lights up with a smile, you laugh and shake your head, turning to face infront of you, Price and Gaz sharing a look with eachother through the rearview mirror.

The team was in rather bright spirits arriving back at base, even though you hadn’t gotten your target, everyone made it out without more than a scratch, you pass Soap who gives you a nudge with his shoulder and commends your talents.

“Great shooting lass,” he says as you respond with a meek smile, Ghost watching the encounter from behind the two of you. You continue in light conversation with Soap as he talks about how he took down 3 men at once, two with a single shot, you laugh at his cockiness.

As you enter the base and make your way down the hall to your room, you feel a strong arm tug your waist, pulling you into a near closet. Turning to face him he stares you down, the room is dark but you can see a slight shine in his eyes, eyes you could never mistake for anyone else. You reach your hands to pull at his mask but he grabs your wrists, stopping your actions.

“What was that?” he asks, his tone deep

“What?”

“With Soap, you seemed rather entranced with what he had to say”

“I was just laughing with him Si-”

Before you can finish your sentence he spins your body and pins your arms behind your back, pushing you forward into the wall.

“Simon we were just chatting,” you say breathlessly as he presses his body against yours, forcing your cheek to flatten against the cold wall. The rough grip of his hands tugging on your wrists as he lowers his head to your shoulder

“Do you think he could fuck you like I do?”

“What?” you ask trying to turn your head to look at him, he presses you harder against the wall, you can feel his hardening cock against your ass. “No,” you say through a gasp “no one can”.

He seems content with your answer, removing one of his hands to reach around and unbutton your pants, sliding his hand down your pants, teasing over your clothed sex. You close your eyes as your jaw falls open over the sudden contact. He presses his forehead to the back of your head, the teeth of his mask digging into your scalp as he pulls your panties to the side to slide a finger teasingly over your clit.

“Fuck Si-”

“No, you know the rule, no using our names on base”

“Ghost please” you plead

“Good girl” you can feel his breath down the nape of your neck, he slides a finger into your pussy. “So wet already”

“For you fuck all for you,” you say as he adds another finger and begins to pump faster, you arch your back into him, craving more contact.

“Needy girl, need you to cum on my fingers first”

You moan as he continues fingering you, bending his fingers to hit that sweet spot inside you while bringing his thumb to circle over your clit.

“Need to be quiet love, don’t want someone walking in here”

You bite your lip trying to contain your moans as your forehead comes into contact with the wall, Ghost removes his grip from your wrist, bringing his gloved hand up to cover your mouth before using the leverage to collide your bodies, arching your body back into his. You turn your head and settle into his neck while your hand finds purchase, gripping his tactical vest, trying to ground yourself.

Ghost feels you clenching around his fingers as he picks up his pace urging your orgasm closer, you reach your free hand down to grab at his large forearm, trying to keep your body upright as your legs begin to feel wobbly.

“That’s right baby, cum all over my hand”

He pumps his fingers a few more times and your eyesight blurs, feeling your ass press back against his cock as he fingers you through your orgasm, not removing his fingers till he feels you unclench. He releases your body and you fall forward, catching yourself on the wall before he kneels down to take your pants off, kneading the flesh of your hips and thighs, grabbing handfuls of your ass before bringing his hand back to your soaked vagina. Your hips twitch at the contact, trying to catch your breath as you hear the sound of his belt undoing. 

In one swift motion, he turns your body around and locks his arms under your legs, lifting you up against the wall, your arms falling around his neck as you try to steady yourself. He reaches a hand down to line himself up before pushing into you in one solid motion, burying his cock deep inside you, his tip brushing against your cervix. 

Usually, he gave you time to adjust to his size, but as soon as he was inside you, feeling the clench of your warm walls he couldn’t help himself. He pins your body against the wall as he begins thrusting into you, hands gripping hard at your waist as he keeps his eyes locked on your face, enjoying every flutter of your eyelashes, every twitch of your mouth that came with the pleasure you were experiencing. He’s fucking you hard against the wall, you can feel your spine digging into the concrete behind you, grabbing at his neck, his shoulders, anything you could reach. He reaches a hand up to grab your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“Whose pussy is this doll”

“Fuck, yours, it’s yours Ghost” you say as your head falls forward to rest against his shoulder.

“That’s right, mine” He emphasizes the last word with a hard thrust that has a choked sob escaping your throat. You bury your face in his shoulder, biting at the fabric to quiet your moans as he brings a hand down to toy at your clit once again. Your second orgasm hits you quick and has you seeing stars, muffled moans escaping your throat as drool starts to pool in the corners of your mouth, leaking out to wet his shirt.

Once you came down from your high Ghost released you, setting you down with a hold on your waist, pressing you again against the wall and immediately thrusting back into you, your slick pooling at the base of his cock and dripping down your thighs as he sets an unrelenting pace. You try to brace against the wall but your arms buckle, resorting to resting your forearms against the wall as he fucks himself deeper into you.

“Who else can make you cum like this?”

You can’t form words, resorting to tired whimpers.

“Use your words doll”

“No one, only you” is all you can maange through strangled moans.

He grips your hips and starts pulling you back into him while continuing to fuck you, the position letting him hit impossibly deep inside you. You feel yourself losing balance before he reaches an arm around your waist to keep you steady. His breathing is heavy, directly in your ear as you continue to clench down on him.

“So fucking good love, fuck gonna make me cum”

You moan at his words,

"Is that what you want huh, want me to fill this pussy, claim it as mine"

He quickly thrusts a few more times before slowing his pace, a choked groan leaving his throat as you feel him fill you with his cum, fucking it deeper into you. Finishing his orgasm he stays deep inside you, his head falling forward to rest on your shoulder as you both stay there, trying to catch your breaths. He pulls his mask up over his lips and plants a soft kiss on your forehead before removing himself. You whine at the loss of contact as he kneels down to pull your pants back up for you.

You turn your body to place your palms against his cheeks, holding his face, looking into his eyes with hooded lids, reaching up to kiss him, he snakes a hand around you holding you to him, deepening the kiss.

You pull back resting your forehead against his, “You know that I would never-” but he interrupts you before you can finish.

“I know” is all he says, reaching a hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear. You stare lovingly at your husband, in that moment he isn’t the Ghost, he’s Simon.

“You should leave first, less suspicious than both of us walking out of here”

You smile and nod, placing another kiss to his lips before pulling his mask back down his face, turning to leave the room. You step into the hallway and catch a glimpse of yourself in the window in front of you, jesus, you take a moment to smooth out your hair and tuck your shirt back in, before walking down the hallway, jumping a little at the sudden form by your side.

“Hey lass” Soap says, a bright smile plastered on his face.

“Johnny” you greet him

“I think some of the lads and I are gonna head to the pub later if yer into that sort of thing”

“Oh, yea maybe”

He nods in acknowledgement and turns down another hallway, you think to yourself for a moment before craning your neck over your shoulder, yep, just like you suspected, Ghost was behind you a few paces, fists clenched after witnessing another encounter between Soap and you, smiling slightly to yourself, silently praying this anger would result in a second round.

You met the team at the bar around 10, it’s rather run-down but for the circumstances, it’s not too bad. Mostly filled with other military personnel that lived on the base, you were greeted with loud cheers courtesy of a very drunk Soap, who was sat in a booth with his arm wrapped tightly around the shoulder of Gaz who was seemingly just as drunk but hiding it a little better. Price sat leaning back in his chair, a lit cigar sticking out of his mouth as he greeted you with a slight nod. You sat down at the booth, glancing around for any sign of Ghost before your train of thought is interrupted by Soap pushing a glass of whiskey towards you, you oblige him and take a quick swig of the drink, your throat burning at the sensation.

The four of you sat engaged in a rather loud conversation, mostly from Soap, if you thought he was chatty before, this was a whole new level. He wanted to know everything about you, and you answered most of his questions with the same answers you had given Gaz earlier, the two were too drunk to remember anything you said anyway. After a while you excused yourself to go to the bar, catching the attention of the bartender and requesting a drink for yourself. 

You stood at the bar tapping your fingers while you waited for the bartender to bring drinks to others first when a rather chipper man positioned himself next to you, sparing him a tight-lipped smile before averting your gaze.

“So you come here often” eyeroll

“Nope”

“You must be new, I’ve never seen you around”

“Something like that,” you say, thanking the bartender for your drink and turning to head back to your booth before his hand grabs your arm, making you spill your drink. “Seriously”

“What you’re too good for a conversation?”

“With you? Yea”

He doesn’t release his grip but before he can speak his gaze is drawn upward to lock eyes on the tall skull-clad figure that stands behind you.

“Might want to let go mate” is all Simon says before the man releases you, throwing his arms up defensively.

“Alright man, just wanted to talk”

You and Simon start to make your way back to the booth when you hear the man mutter something along the lines of dumb bitch, instantly your head whips toward Simon who’s stopping in his tracks, you widen your eyes at him, a silent plea to please don’t.

The next thing you see is your 6’4 hulking figure of a husband grab the collar of the smaller man's shirt and force him back against the bar.

“What was that?” he asks through gritted teeth

By now the rest of the team has noticed and are rushing from the booth, but they aren’t quick enough. Simon balls his fist and hits the man directly across the face, you can see the blood spew from his nose as he falls to the floor as Price moves behind Simon and rests a hand on his arm.

“Simon, step away son”

Simon retracts his fist to his side before exiting the bar with Price, you see Gaz drop a few bills on the bar and whisper a rushed sorry to the bartender, you’re stood frozen, Simon was always protective but this was such a brute display, something was off with him.

You rejoin the team outside the bar and notice Simon off by himself, leaning against a brick wall smoking a cigarette.

“I think we should call it a night” Price says to the group, you nod in agreement, hailing a cab and trying to get Gaz and Soap settled in.

“Yer not coming w’us lass?” Soap questions

“Not this time, I’m gonna walk back”

He brushes you off and the cab takes off, you stand there for a minute chatting with Price as he offers to walk back with you but you decline his offer with some excuse of wanting to be alone, and enjoy the weather. He leaves you with a pat on the shoulder, reaching down for his lighter to reignite his cigar before you see him walk away, a puff of smoke trailing behind him.

You rub your arms up and down with your hands, trying to come up with something to say to Simon. You slowly walk over to him, standing beside him as he reaches a hand down to offer you a drag of his cigarette, you brush him off and he puts it out, grinding it into the ground with his heavy boot.

“You could’ve killed that guy”

“He’s lucky I didn’t”

You turn to face him, “are you alright, you’ve been off ever since we got here, more on edge”

“M’fine”

“Si” you say, reaching to hold is large hand in yours.

He takes a heavy breath, “I don’t know, I’m just nervous”

You squeeze his hand, encouraging him to continue, it’s never been easy for him to talk about his feelings, and you never forced him or pryed, but you also wanted him to know that he could trust you with whatever he was feeling.

“I’m just worried about you, you got shot at today and I don’t even want to picture what the guys around here are thinking about you”

You nod in understanding, “We knew the risks, the op was nothing I haven’t dealt with before, but beating that guy up Si, and the way you’re acting around Johnny, I mean he’s your closest friend”

You look up at him, “I understand jealousy Si, but you’ve never gotten violent like that”

He looks at you, his dark eyes scanning over your face, “I don’t know love,  I’m just under a lot of stress”

Placing a hand on his chest you move closer to him, he wraps his arms around your frame, holding you tight to his as you nuzzle your face into his chest.

“Okay, just promise me you won’t break Johnnys nose too”

He chuckles a little, squeezing you before releasing you.

“I’m serious, beat up anyone else and people are gonna start to catch on to us”

He nods, urging you to walk up the road with a nudge of his head, the two of you walk back to base, giggling quietly to yourselves over small conversation, maintaining a rather platonic distance in case anyone saw you.

The two of you arrive back at the base, you head inside to your bunks while Ghost sits outside, lighting another cigarette. He stands alone in the quiet, enjoying the silent ambience of the quiet night before his solitude is ripped from his chest at the piercing accent of Soap.

“Hey LT” Johnny greets, propping himself against the wall beside Ghost, “Can I ask a question?”.

Ghost remains silent, hoping Soap would simply walk away.

“Have you got a thing for her”

Ghost turns to glare at Soap, eyes starring daggers, but it doesn’t stop him.

“Strider, you’re always eyein her down, like she’s your prey or something”

Ghost merely blinks at him, turning his head back to face out at the pavement, taking another drag of his cigarette.

“She’s nice, not very chatty but kind, hell of a shot too” Soap adds

Ghost blows smoke from his nose, ashing his cigarette before turning and walking into the building, leaving Soap to stand alone in the dark.

“Was it something I said?” Soap asks to himself before he too moves to enter the building.

It was quiet inside the base, aside from the occasional group stumbling in after a night at the pub, a few of them gossiping about how a man wearing a skull mask broke the nose of one of the privates on base. You were in your room, fresh out of the shower getting ready for bed before you hear a knock on your door, immediately assuming it was Ghost on the other side, you open the door with a roll of your eyes but before you can make any kind of sarcastic comment your sentence is stopped by the sight of a man wearing a rather ugly fishing hat.

“Sorry I know it’s late”

“Captain, did you need something,” you ask, suddenly feeling very bare in your pyjamas.

“Just a question,” he says, watching your face for any kind of concern. “Is there something I need to worry about with Simon?”

Your mind blanks, hesitating to answer. “I’m not sure, we aren’t that close sir”

“Cut the shit Sargeant, he doesn’t get into bar fights, yet, one guy hits on you and suddenly he’s hitting the floor”

You swallow, trying your best at keeping a poker face. “There’s nothing to worry about sir” you respond, straight-faced.

“Alright" He takes a beat, "get some rest” He nods his head to you and leaves down the hall.

You close your door, your body falling backwards as your back collides with the heavy metal. You huff a breath to yourself, hands coming up to settle over your mouth, of course, his jealousy got us caught. You have to think of a game plan and quick, if Price has you two figured out it’s only a matter of time before the rest of the team does and you can’t risk that.

You tossed and turned in bed that night, the pooling anxiety refusing to let you rest as you wondered if Price had talked to Simon yet, you know he trusted Price with his life and that you should too, but keeping your relationship a secret was a hard and fast rule the two of you had decided on when you first got together, Ghost had a lot of enemies, enemies that would love to get their hands on you, you began to spiral thinking of all the things that could go wrong before you knew it the sun was coming up, the small windows of your room letting in the warm orange glow as you picked at the skin around your nails. You had to shut this down, and quick.

Taglist: @chloepluto1306 @thychuvaluswife @valdemarismynonbinarylove @simply-vulpecula @lostinsideourminds

[myfandomrealitea]

I wish I had a place to post my fucked up arts without being cancelled 😭

Honestly I think the drawn arts have suffered perhaps the most out of modern censorship. Especially the communities, too, because when sites ban things to please advertisers, investors and the handful of people squawking about protecting the children, it creates this mentality of; 'if its been banned its bad, so whoever makes it or enjoys it is bad too.'

There will literally always be at least one person who comes after you for what you create. Lord knows I enough enough angry anons in my inbox on a daily basis and all I do is rant about antis and occasionally knock my braincells together with enough force to say something vaguely helpful.

My best advice for avoiding being 'cancelled' is to heavily, heavily curate your online space and the people you aim to include within it. This could be by:

Following specifically other blogs who post similar content or express interest in similar content to what you produce or your interests.

Pre-emptively blocking blogs who express disgust or hatred for the content you produce or like, blogs who express moral stances conflicting to yours, ect. This is expressly helpful on sites like Twitter where options to limit engagement are limited.

Tagging properly, and including trigger and warnings tags whom others are likely to have blocked. This prevents people from seeing something they don't want to, and also gives you coverage if they try to accuse you of 'spreading it around.'

In cases of art that may have more extreme content, try using spoiler flags or any filtration option that requires viewers to actively consent to viewing it. Relevant to above, nobody can cry wolf about 'being exposed' because they would've had to physically reveal the work to themselves.

DeviantArt unfortunately recently changed its policies to a frankly ridiculously constrictive degree, so while I previously would've recommended that as a place to host your artwork and find a safer community, I can no longer. Hopefully someone is successful in pushing for the site to reform to its previous rules soon.

ArtStation is an option. The site is not eligible to anyone under 18 and sexual, gore, fetish, and 'mature' content is allowed provided the usual stipulation that you aren't using it in order to cause, infer or threaten harm against someone. A lot of the site is geared toward marketing artwork, though, so you might be hard pressed to find more of a community aspect to it.

Rule 34.com is... Objectively one of the best places you can host your artwork if you create content that is based on sexual themes. The protective rights aren't the greatest, but anyone who uses Rule 34 has no leg to stand on regarding morality and censorship.

Reddit has a lot of subreddits for sharing art, and a bonus is you can find subreddits specifically geared toward artwork based on things like gore, violence, sexual content, ect. Filtering options and monitoring are basically non-existent, however. Also, Reddit sometimes spontaneously decides a specific post is against its TOS and yeets it.

There's also the option of building a Discord server based around sharing artwork of certain themes, which is objectively the format that allows you the most control over who views it, but it also means your art has a limited presence. (Can't be reblogged, ect.)

If you do check out any of the websites, always be thorough in reading the Terms of Service and the Community Guidelines.

[mystra-midnight]

Dirty Little Secret

summary: he swore that when you bent over to scoop the car keys from the coffee table, he'd been able to see up your skirt and straight to your damn cervix.

warnings: 18+ only. thigh riding. age gap; (reader is in their 20's, john's in his 40's) pet names; (sweetheart, pretty girl). public setting. john's a bit pervy here.

words: 985.

notes: was fishing for ideas with a friend on mine on snapchat and this came about. john winchester + age gap + thigh riding in the impala = a damn good time.

“We could get arrested.”

"That's a risk I'm willing to take."

Your skin tasted like sweat as he ran his tongue up the side of your neck, leaving a fat, wet stripe behind. His hands grabbed your hips frantically while you crawled into his lap, your legs falling into position around his thigh while the steering wheel nudged roughly at the small of your back. Under time constraints, he was in a hurry, bunching your skirt around your waist so that he could pull your thong to the side and push his thigh firmly against your mound.

Beer—that had been his excuse to be alone with you. He'd tagged along to make sure you got the good kind and not the cheap shit you usually bought. It was a lie—a bold-faced, fucking lie. He had to get away from the boys and get you alone because you were wearing the smallest, tightest skirt he'd ever fucking seen. He swore that when you bent over to scoop the car keys from the coffee table, he'd been able to see up your skirt and straight to your damn cervix.

You mewled into his mouth when your lips crashed with a myriad of licks and bites. It was dirty. God, it was so dirty but so fucking hot. This was John—fucking—Winchester, the father of your two best friends. It was their father you were dry-humping in the parking lot of a grocery store. Anyone could notice the foggy windows. Anyone could peer inside. Anyone could get a glimpse of your bare backside, the slick dripping down the inside of your thighs, and the wet patch on his jeans.

You couldn't find it in yourself to care when he pushed his hands up your shirt and yanked down the cups of your bra, freeing your tits into his awaiting palms. He rolled his fingers over your nipples, chuckling faintly against your mouth when they pebbled into hardened peaks.

"Like me touching you like this, baby? I know you do, can feel how wet that pretty pussy is."

Your answering whine was enough to encourage him to touch you more, not that he needed the encouragement. Angling his hips to meet yours, John's thigh rubbed against your bare cunt as his erection pressed against yours. If given half a chance, he'd be fucking you right now—his dirty girl, old enough to be his daughter. He'd wanted you the moment Sam bought you home from college—not a lover but a very good friend—someone he trusted implicitly, someone who he loved and cared for and promised to never hurt—a sentiment you shared.

And yet here you were with his father in the front seat of a car that was parked in the grocery store parking lot of some backwater town, panting against his lips, licking all around his mouth, and grinding against his thigh like a desperate whore. There had been no preamble, no coquettish stares, and no hesitations. John had been staring at your thighs and how high the skirt rode, and you'd crawled into his lap. It was filthy how quickly you got turned on, and worse still, how quickly the knot of pleasure started to twist through your organs.

"John," you breathed his name in a sigh, your eyes closed and your breath heavy. "John, you're gonna make me cum if we don't stop." The thought of peeling yourself away from him was painful, leaving your heart thumping against your breastbone so hard you'd swear you heard it start to crack. You didn't want to stop, but you couldn't very well go back to the hotel looking like a cum-drunk whore. Dean would definitely notice, and he wasn't good at keeping secrets.

Pre-emptively, John grabbed your hips and pulled you roughly against him, smearing your slick along his dark denim until they were stained a darker shade. "That's the fucking point," he growled against your neck, right where he'd sucked a pink-purple bruise below your ear. You'd worry about it later, when his hand wasn't snaking between your bodies to find your throbbing clit.

The rough drag of his calloused fingers against your nub made you gasp. Your hands flew to his head, fingers burrowing deep in his salt and pepper hair, holding his mouth to yours as you whined low and long, the sound ripping up your spine, the back of your throat, and right out of your parted lips. You were already soaked, something that amused him.

"I gotta get you ready for tonight, pretty girl."

"T-tonight?"

It was hard to maintain a conversation with how he was touching you, playing you like a damn violin. You were putty in his hands, so fucking young, pretty, and eager to cum. John doubted you were thinking about anything else except for the fire that had settled in your veins—the way it made you moan too loudly, the way it made you move faster and faster, until the car was rocking on its wheels.

The steering wheel nudged your back again and again, leaving a perfect imprint bruised into your lower back, but you didn't care. John knew when you were getting close. Your thighs trembled, the grind of your hips faltering as the sharp zing of pleasure shot through you each time your lips caught on the rips in his jeans, each time he circled your clit only to change directions and go back without warning.

"That's right, sweetheart, tonight, when you sneak out of your room and into mine so I can fill that pretty pussy with my cum."

Those were the words that did you in. "m'comingmc'comingm'coming." You came with a muffled cry, words trailing together until neither of you could tell where one ended and the next began. His fingers never ceased their movements, helping you reach your peak and come tumbling down to earth like a freight train. "Oh, god."

"No, sweetheart. S’just John."

[shxtodxroki]

𝙾𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝙺𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘?

Summary: A gossip session with Utahime at your favorite café accidentally crumbles your calm, cool facade and reveals your crush to the man himself.

Flufftober Day 3 Prompt: “Wait, you love me?” “I always have.”

Warnings: Vague mentions of injuries, mentions of food

Pairing: Kento Nanami x Gender Neutral! Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Check out my full Flufftober masterlist here!

“Oh my god, there you are!” You hear Utahime call out to you from a few tables away, causing you to jump slightly and lift your eyes from your phone to meet her gaze. “I thought you were late, I couldn’t see you anywhere. Next time, don’t pick such a secluded spot, makes it hard to find you.” She gently chides you as she sits down in the seat across from you, before flashing you a friendly smile as she finally settles in.

“Sorry, this is where I always sit when I come here by myself. Old habits die hard, I guess.” You mutter softly in response, offering you a soft smile of your own. “Did you already order yourself a drink?”

Your question draws Utahime’s eyes to the drink already sitting in front of you, barely touched as your hands remain idly wrapped around the cup. She quickly nods in response to your question, though a shared glance at the lengthy line tells you that it’ll be a while before her drink is finished and her name is called, giving the two of you a few minutes to settle in and begin catching up beforehand.

“So, how have you been?” She asks to kickstart the conversation, swiping your drink away to steal a quick sip before smiling sheepishly and placing it back down in front of you. 

“Eh, I’ve been alright. Been taking on more missions than usual, I’m trying to save up for the holidays so I haven’t done much outside of work lately.” You admit with a laugh, taking a sip of your drink before turning the question back on her. “How about you?”

“Things have been going well over in Kyoto! All of the students are doing great on their training exercises right now, and Miwa and Mechamaru have been spending more time together lately. I always catch them together during breaks, my bet’s on them getting together by the end of the month.” she grins, clearly thrilled to see her students so happy and performing so well. Utahime truly was a great teacher, it was clear how much she cared for and connected with each of her students and wanted them to succeed and that attitude of hers always seeped through into your conversations together.

However, after a moment she raises her eyebrow and shoots a mischievous grin your way, immediately clueing you into what she's about to ask before she even opens her mouth as you pre-emptively glare at her. “Speaking of romance, how are things between you and Nanami?” You can’t help but roll your eyes at your friend’s need to know all the gossip about your love life, though the sudden heat radiating off of your skin betrays you and makes your unspoken giddiness clear to your friend as she looks at you with a questioning gaze. The aforementioned man has been flooding your thoughts like a virus as of late, clinging to your mind and leaving you in a land of fantasy and romantic daydreams whenever you have a moment to yourself.

“....I mean, it’s not like anything special’s happened or anything.” You mumble, trying and failing to bite back a lovestruck grin. “He’s friendly whenever we see each other around or go on missions together, but he’s so polite all the time, so it’s hard to tell if he means anything by it or if I’m just being delusional and seeing signs that aren’t there.”

Utahime’s curiosity is not placated in the slightest by your words, a fact she makes starkly clear as she swipes another sip of your drink and shoots you a disbelieving glare. “Oh come on, that doesn’t tell me anything! Give me more details, what do you mean by ‘friendly’?” She pushes, though you can see that it’s all in good fun and that she would stop pressing the second you asked her to.

Fortunately for her, you obviously want to gossip about your crush no matter how hard you try to seem unbothered by the matter, so you take the bait with another poorly concealed grin as her prying only eggs on your fantasies. “Well…. I guess just small things, like how he always checks to see if I’m injured before worrying about his own injuries on missions, or how he always stands in front of me when we’re dealing with a curse, or how he always buys me a drink whenever we’re walking home together.” Utahime can practically see the hearts in your eyes as you talk, though you’re doing your best to stay grounded in reality. “I know he’s just an amazing guy, and he’d do those things for anyone, but that doesn’t stop my heart from going all haywire whenever I think about those moments.”

Of course, your friend is insistent that these are in fact signs that your crush returns your feelings, giggles falling from her mouth as she smiles mischievously at you. “Oh come on, Y/n! Okay, maybe him trying to keep you safe on missions could be passed off as him just being nice, I could see that. But you’re telling me he goes out of his way to get you a drink every time you walk home together, and you think that’s just him being friendly?!” She looks at you with wide eyes, clearly trying to get you to see what she thinks is right in front of you. 

“.....Sometimes he even buys a small treat for us to share, like a pastry or something.” You admit bashfully, feeling your face heat up once more. The gasp your friend lets out only makes you shrink into your seat a bit more, overwhelmed by your own feelings and vulnerability in this moment.

“He totally likes you, Y/n!” Utahime looks at you incredulously as she speaks, restraining her volume just enough to not be yelling across the store, though she’s still speaking much too loudly for such a sensitive subject matter. “You know how Nanami is, he’s genuinely a good guy. He’s not gonna be super obvious and flirt with you in a way that could possibly make you uncomfortable, these are clearly his way of hinting at his feelings.” She seems desperate to get you to finally do something about your crush, positively convinced that she’s correct.

“....I dunno. It’s not like the thought hasn’t crossed my mind before…. But I’m just not sure, and I’m afraid that if I get my hopes up and actually confront him about my feelings, I’ll just end up looking like an idiot and making things uncomfortable.” Your voice sounds dejected and somber, causing Utahime’s face to fall in concern and sympathy as she listens to your concerns. “We get assigned on missions together pretty frequently, and I don’t want to make him uncomfortable or put innocent people at risk if I can’t focus thanks to my hurt feelings. I try so hard to act calm and collected around him, and I don’t wanna mess that up and seem like an idiot or upset him.”

Your fears cause Utahime to pause for a moment, searching through her mind for a way to comfort and reassure you. Before she can find her train of thought and speak up, though, a barista utters three words that cause both of your blood to run icy cold. 

“Order for Kento?” Your heart stops. You’re sure of it, you’re sure you’re not breathing in this moment. Your eyes are frantically scanning around the small cafe, praying that it’s just a coincidence, just someone with the same name. You don’t make it far before your eyes land on a familiar head of blonde hair at the table just beside your own, and you can practically feel your soul leave your body as you immediately glance away to Utahime in shame and refuse to meet his gaze. There goes your collected, responsible facade, you doubt you'll ever recover from this sheer embarrassment.

She looks back at you with a pitiful, remorseful expression as the man in question walks up to the front to collect his order. Utahime’s name still hasn’t been called, prompting you to realize that he’s most likely been here since before she even arrived, and has subsequently heard everything the two of you have been saying about him.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to run, make a mad dash out of this little cafe and simply do your best to never cross paths with him again.

Before you could decide for certain, Kento returned with his drink and set it on his table, before turning his chair so that he was facing the two of you. “Y/n, Utahime, it’s nice to see you.” He nodded at the two of you, and you were barely able to muster up a tiny nod in return as you fidgeted with your fingers beneath your table.

“I apologize for eavesdropping, I promise it wasn’t my intention.” He begins the awkward conversation that you were hoping to avoid, and you finally bring your eyes up to meet his with an apologetic gaze. “When I arrived I saw you sitting here and was hoping to chat with you, Y/n, but you seemed very busy with something on your phone, so I figured I would wait and say hello when you were less busy. But then I heard my name, and I couldn’t help but listen in. My apologies.”

Of course Kento was being a complete gentleman about this. You shouldn’t have expected anything else. Still, no matter how kind or polite he was about it you knew the sting of his rejection would pain you more deeply than you'd like to admit, and you attempt to steel yourself emotionally in preparation for the hurt as you open your mouth to apologize to the man for gossiping so blatantly about him.

“I have to admit, though, that your friend is right. I’m a bit surprised that you haven’t caught on about my feelings yet.” He adds on, immediately lighting up Utahime’s face in a victorious grin as your jaw drops and you stare at him wide-eyed. Even with the background noise of the cafe patrons, you feel as if you could hear a pin drop in this moment with the tension bleeding through each one of your pores at his sudden confession.

“....Huh?” You ask, oh-so-eloquently making your way into the conversation once you collect yourself enough to speak. “Wait.... you like me?” You can’t seem to finish your sentence, still too afraid to seem foolish if you’re somehow misinterpreting his words. 

“Yes, I always have.” Though he remains as composed as ever, if you look closely you can spot the small grin gracing Kento’s lips as he tries his best to fight it back. “I wasn’t sure if you reciprocated, so I tried to make my feelings clear while also giving you an out if you felt uncomfortable. You’ve always acted so put-together and calm whenever we’re together, so it was difficult to read your emotions and I didn’t want to be too overt with my advances. It seems like I wasn’t obvious enough, though, so I’ll make myself clear now.”

Your head is spinning, you feel dizzy as your feelings suddenly overwhelm you. You can feel them swirling around in your stomach, hot air inflating you like a balloon as you do your best to focus on what he’s saying. “Now that I know you feel the same, I’d like to ask if you’d be willing to go on a date with me?” His questioning gaze is only for show, as you both know what you’ll say, but it calms your nerves a bit that he still has the courtesy to ask so politely.

 Utahime violently shakes her head ‘yes’ from the corner of your eye, giving you the courage you need to speak up despite your pounding heart and the sudden dryness in your throat. “I’d really like that, Kento.” You agree without a second thought, as the tension bleeds from the air completely and both of you smile softly at one another. “You’re welcome to join us now too, if you’d like.” You offer, glancing at your friend to ensure she’s okay with this as well before pulling out the seat beside you.

Kento smirks at your offer before nodding gratefully, standing up and setting his drink down on your table before taking the seat you had offered. “I’d love to, thank you for the offer.” His arm hovers near your waist, silently waiting for your consent, and once he sees you nod giddily he wraps it carefully around you, scooting a bit closer to you as the three of you begin conversing altogether. And despite his typical straight-laced, put-together attitude, he even manages to send a few subtle winks your way, meant for your eyes only, as the three of you catch up, and you instantly know that this man is going to be your forever and always as you relax into his side and enjoy your drink.

Request - Anonymous said: Could you do nanami x reader who is calm but get caught simping on him for flufftober please😍

A/N: Aaaaa this was so much, sometimes you’ve just gotta be a little silly and delusional and gossip about your crush :> It really is healing for the soul imo and I do NOT think it should stop once you become an adult, and I think this was perfectly fluffy and cute for this Flufftober! If you can’t tell, I’m having a lot of fun with this entire event so far lol, and I look forward to seeing your guys’ reactions to each of these as I post them! I hope you’re enjoying Flufftober as much as I am so far, and my requests are open rn so please feel free to send any requests you have over to my inbox! :D

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