Henlo henlo! Part I of the event is finally here ♡ Thank you all. Holy hecc I cannot believe there’s a 1000 of you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! This first part is a mini giveaway, rules below!

Giveaway rules:

Giveaway prizes

This post can be liked and reblogged until Friday Dec 18th - 8 pm CET  Then, right after,  I will reveal the winners. They will have 24 hours to contact me. From there on I just need some information about your selfship or OC. Good luck! 

Rules are simple:

Prizes:

Since it’s a Holiday season, this time a prize is a bit bigger :) 

Except the character number limits, remember your request would need to follow the rules.

For giveaway Fridays I will also overlook the gender rule - you can ask for mlm or other ‘non standard’ reader as well :)

Good luck ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀fav or reblog ␥ twitter; @nezwko

oooh it was sincerely good! thank you very much

i also like Smoker too much

omg, you're so sweet

TAKE MY LOVE

nah some people are such weirdos abt being inclusive. idk if some of you have noticed but media (books, tv shows etc) has always been dominated by white people. non-white people look for a break in reader inserts to breathe—literally the least you can do is be inclusive and understand. it really be the people who are represented 24/7 (talking abt race, gender, sexuality, body type etc) that don’t care, i swear.

dear fic writers, coming from a black girl, we are so tired LMAO. it’s so simple to leave out a simple white emoji (ie. 👍🏻) or description (her usually pale cheeks flushed) out of your works to keep all of your readers included. if you don’t understand that jawn, block me rn <3

Are you ready?! A total of 20 winners will open a gift for this special Winter Holidays Event!!

I also want to thank Ellie with the bottom of my heart because we’re co-running this event and I’m more than happy to have such an amazing person in my life 🥰❤️

THE RULES:

All the requests will be posted between December 1st to December 25th

YOUR WRITING PRESENTS ARE:

18 winners will have the possibility to receive a writing present!

YOUR DRAWING PRESENTS ARE:

2 winners will have the possibility to receive a drawing present!

Example of Ellie’s gift just here 👇

TO NOTE: Ellie is totally able to refuse any kind of pose or OP characters she doesn’t want to draw! If you win the bonus draw, please directly check with her what she’s able to do ☺️

We both wish you a wonderful winter time! Best wishes and hopefully a better year for everyone ⭐️

Once again, I hate tumblr being tumblr cause I had to like it from my main, @basilisa-scorpii (tumblr doesn’t even let me tag it, lol), but-

HUGE SIGNAL BOOST!

wow it was just amazing and well written! THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU AND TAKE CARE OF YOU

Hello, everyone! As of right now I currently don't have too many requests left and as of right now as soon as I get a new charger for my laptop one of the 300 special prizes will be posted! But because I'm bored and I love you all I've decided to hold a small giveaway!

Like I said it's going to be small, so only one prize but it will be a FULL SFW/NSFW alphabet for a character from any of the fandoms I currently write for!

Liking this post will count as one vote! Liking and reblogging this post will be a bonus vote, meaning you can have a total of two votes for yourself!

You have until November 5th at 7 am EST to enter, that is twenty four hours! Then after that one of you will be randomly chosen and I'll tag you in the post announcing the winner (November 6th) after I make that post you'll have an additional twenty hours to pm me to claim your prize before I choose someone else!

Love you all, moosh 💙

┄───➤   LettresPromises informs you : you have one notification. ❜

──➤ 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 : 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒.

──➤ Smoker sent you a letter, would you like to read it? ❜

──➤ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : pure fluff. ─➤ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : none. ➤ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.6K. Excerpt of the letter :  ❝Only then did he realize that he had never felt an agonizing sensation of vacuity coursing through his veins when he was feeling frustrated. It was odd, it was foreign, he felt weak. His subconscious screamed at him to associate this haunting feeling of loneliness to the lack of your presence, and for once he agreed— Smoker knew he felt different, in the worst way possible, when you were not around, so he let out another puff of smoke.❞

Is there anything Smoker won’t put words around? Yes, there is.

There is the consuming rage fueled by his unquenched thirst to capture more pirates and bring his status of « white hunter » closer to glory, but he reminds himself that perhaps some pirates deserve to be set free as his orbs lay on the poster of Monkey D. Luffy and the letters of the word « wanted » screaming at him. There is the sense of injustice within the epitome of justice, such acerbic poetry, and the cacophony of remorses making his jaw clench every now and then. There is the frustration of acknowledging that there will forever be a gap between his own definition of justice and his superiors’ definition of justice, particularly Akainu’s version which appears too merciless to his own liking.

And there is the haunting torment of being incapable of qualifying properly his feelings.

He knows what anger feels like— he knows how anger bends his body, he knows that anger will push his sanity down a pit and he will have to sit here and observe an unhinged version of himself crawl out of said pit.

He knows what indifference feels like— but he barely realizes that his eyes roll back whenever his superior wishes, yet again, to narrow the notion of freedom within justice, he knows that his brain purposefully decides not to absorb any given information pooling out of Akainu’s mouth.

Smoker knows how his emotions manifest themselves and recognizes them kinesthetically.

But Smoker also fails to identify the newcomers.

« State your name and business before coming in. » It also seems that he has trouble recognizing the five distinct taps of your knuckles on the door leading to his office, but oh well.

Your knuckles brush the wooden surface of the door until reaching the doorknob and twisting it in the process, you close the door behind you, leaving his pseudo orders waiting in front of the door at the same time. « I’m kind of hurt, I thought you’d recognize my secret knocking style, we’ve spent ages creating this secret language as kids. »

But how could Smoker not recognize the sound of your voice and the honey dripping down your vocal cords?

He shifted in his seat, secretly thanking for your presence so his orbs could properly project a different visual than the bland reports scattered across his desk, and he thanked you a second time for allowing him to visually embrace the shape of your body, but he kept that to himself. « Should I give you a reminder of how old we are, Y/N? I’m almost certain we’re way past that age. » Smoker trailed off, a puff of smoke punctuated the end of his sentence.

« No doubt, you’re definitely past that age. » You trailed off whilst making your way over to his desk, a grin which radiated ill intentions shone brought amongst your facial features. You made a seat out of his desk without asking for permission, Smoker lightly tapped your left thigh in return, a weak attempt to make you get off of his desk. The experience granted by having shared the majority of your life with Smoker offered you the prestige of being free of your own deeds around him, without ever worrying about pseudo consequences. « But I do have amazing news for you, I’m sure you’ll love it. » You finished, an amused gleam shining in the irises of your eyes at his quirked eyebrow, a silent way to tell you to explain further.

« I’m coming with you and Tashigi on Punk Hazard! Now, now… I know your emotionless self won’t let it show but I know, I just know you’re thrilled to hear that. » You slammed the report proving the sincerity of your words regarding your presence on the mission held on Punk Hazard on his desk in a loud thud, and the proudest grin appeared across your face, just to emphasize that silent victory over Smoker who had always refused to go on a mission with you, but never once did he admit it was because he was afraid of seeing you getting hurt.

Another puff of smoke left his lips, out of frustration, he recognized that he was feeling frustrated because of the way his teeth would hold his cigars a bit tighter, often approaching the limit of breaking them in two.

« You seem so eager to come on Punk Hazard, but I don’t think you realize how dangerous this mission is. » He stated, his eyes finding yours lost amongst the metaphorical electricity created in the room because of the tension. Smoker couldn’t quite tell what frustrated him the most— was it the fact that Akainu, out of all people, granted you the wish to come on Punk Hazard? Was it the fact he envied your ability to willingly ignore the magnitude of danger? Or was it the fact you called him emotionless?

Emotionless.

Smoker wasn’t emotionless, see— he was feeling frustrated. But, nonetheless, the words echoed in his head until it lost its meaning. Was he emotionless? No, no, no he was not. Smoker was not emotionless. He was frustrated, frustration is a valid feeling therefore is he able to show emotions. But only now did he wonder if it was genuine frustration.

« I didn’t reach this rank by slacking off, you and I both know it. I’ll see you soon enough, Smoker. »

He found his own answer when you hopped off his desk and left the room, the sound of the door being shut close was his sole wake-up call. Only then did he realize that he had never felt an agonizing sensation of vacuity coursing through his veins when he was feeling frustrated. It was odd, it was foreign, he felt weak. His subconscious screamed at him to associate this haunting feeling of loneliness to the lack of your presence, and for once he agreed— Smoker knew he felt different, in the worst way possible, when you were not around, so he let out another puff of smoke.

This enigma kept him up at the worst moments, and like every enigma, obtaining an answer to soothe the inner pain caused by the latest obsession of his mind was almost impossible. He immediately knew he couldn’t talk about it to Hina, or worse, Tashigi. Either way, he was sure to be met with either a harsh judgement and could already imagine Hina saying « You’ve mellowed ever since we joined the navy, Hina is amused. » or the inevitable stutters cascading from Tashigi’s mouth. Smoker was on his own, drown in the torment of his own emotions.

The sole temporary solution he found was to ignore you, if his body and mind had to hurt then so be it, he couldn’t handle the agonizing pain of seeing you go away, Smoker had mentally told himself to be a martyr and accept it.

You, on the other one hand, did not bother too much about his absence, you figured it was his way to mentally prepare himself ahead of a mission. You accepted it too, both his absence and the inexorable feeling of your heartstrings being bent in unimaginable ways.

Smoker lighted up the fifth cigar in a row now, and once more he blindly trusted the aftereffects of your absence for the cause of this obsession, smoking some more was merely a placebo to soothe the torture brought by the lack of answer. Truthfully, Smoker hadn’t spoken in a while, perhaps he had nothing to say as long as he knew what was going on. He spoke rarely and judged the value of his words before actually speaking— sure, he had directed his subalterns here and there to organize the ship on their way to Punk Hazard, but aside from the obligations of his ranks, he found nothing to say. Or rather, his mind didn’t grant him the ability to talk until he figured what was this haunting feeling which had no familiarity with frustration anymore. But was he emotionless?

Instead, Smoker let the rhythm of the waves crashing against the ship in the darkest hours of the night to rock his thoughts. His hazel orbs never left once the ‘wanted’ posters of Monkey D. Luffy and Trafalgar Law— of course he knew their faces and who they were, but the couldn’t trust his body anymore and wondered whether or not this secret emotional disease was going to affect his memory. Smoker hoped it wouldn’t have any impact on his memories with you, he was willing to let amnesia consume him whole and burn everything he knew except any memory which had your name written all over it.

From that moment, Smoker knew it was definitely not frustration.

« Smoker? Smoker? Earth to big cigar boy? You can go to sleep, it’s my turn to watch over the ship and you kind of look like a zombie if I’m being honest. » He hadn’t even noticed you entered the main cabin and thus he cursed himself for doing so, but Smoker noticed you looked hesitant by the way you were fiddling with your fingers, it was something you always did as a child.

Most of all, Smoker noticed something else— whenever you were in the same vicinity as him, the pain soothed, it faded away to let the most blissful sensation appear instead. Yet another question he will never obtain the answer to.

Using the grip on the armrests as a support, Smoker stood up and headed towards the door to leave you alone whilst you were on watching duty, that was the initial plan : head towards the door and leave. Head towards the door and leave. Head towards the door and-…

« Y/N, can I ask you something? » … And shamefully ask you to ease his pain instead.

You looked at him with a quizzical look painted across your facial features, both at the sudden interpellation, but mostly at the fainted grip he was holding on your wrist. « Sure, I’m all ears. » You replied, curiosity tainted the way your words came out but you kept your eyes locked on his frame anyway.

Smoker took a sudden drag of his cigars to ease his nerve and subconsciously give him a few seconds to organize the isolated parts of sentences shooting in his mind. Truthfully, he didn’t even know if this was necessary given that he ignored how he was feeling or what caused his body to hurt so much, translating this agony into words was beyond impossible. « You have to promise not to tell anyone about this. » He inquired, his orbs adopted a darker tone on the demanding tone coating his words and the hold on your wrist became temporarily tighter, you hummed in response, allowing him to continue. « If I’m being honest, I think I’m sick or have caught some kind of disease. It’s odd and quite impossible to properly be explained. I don’t know what I’m feeling, but it’s manifesting through this constant sensation of feeling empty. It weighs on my mind, and I have no idea what’s causing it. »

You quirked your brow in response, genuinely concerned as to whether or not Smoker was actually sick— after all, as you were approaching the extreme binary climate of Punk Hazard, such possibility couldn’t be evicted. You allowed your orbs to roam over his face, a guilty pleasure, and besides visible confusion, you couldn’t depict any physical symptom.

« Um, right? Do you have any idea when did this start? » You asked, hoping to obtain more hints about his situation.

« I hate to admit it but it started when you left my office last week, and now that you’re here I feel better, as in I don’t feel this emptiness anymore. » He continued, and for the first time in your life, you could admire his emotions dancing under the moonlight. « I was wondering if you felt sick, too. »

« So, if I sum it up you feel ‘empty’ and ‘in pain’ when I’m not around. » You couldn’t help but bend your lips into a smile which you knew he already hated by the ill intentioned looks of it.

« Sort of, but you haven’t answered my question : are you ill or not? » A question so innocent which found its answer in the shameless laugh escaping your lips, Smoker covered your mouth with his palm— not because he cared about the quality of the slumber of his soldiers, but rather because the sound of your laugh was awakening something else in him which was too harsh to handle.

You delicately wrapped your fingers around his wrist, slowly making him retreat his limb to his torso, and to his greatest pleasure, your laughter left an imprint on your facial features in the shape of a grin. « Would you believe me if I were to tell you that I found the cure? » You asked, already imagining the outcome of a possible answer.

« Huh? What is it? » He responded to your question with yet another question, but there and only there he found the answer to his haunting enigma when your fingers invaded his vision field and threw the sole obstacles to the apex of the situation, his cigars, on the floor before stepping on them to extinguish them. And there and only there, Smoker felt peace when your lips crashed onto his in a delicately harsh liplock whilst your palms were cupping his cheeks. It came as a reflex, and he couldn’t blame himself for it because he had fantasized about this scenario several times while hoping it would be the cure to his problems, Smoker caged you against his chest as his forelimbs protectively claimed your waist.

The more your lips were lingering on his, the more he felt every ounce of pain exude his body by his every pores— you were the cure, you were the answer to his enigma and always have been. If his lungs hadn’t failed him, Smoker would have gladly delivered himself into the temptations of your lips once more, judging by the way he blindly chased after your lips when you broke the kiss.

Another giggle escaped your lips as your thumbs brushed invisible motions against his cheeks, « Do you still feel empty at all? » you asked, such a rhetorical question, right? Smoker looked at you quizzically but then it hit him— he felt full, and vacuity had lost sense. « No, I don’t feel empty anymore. » He concluded to your amused smile.

« You’re not sick and never have been, or maybe it’s a sickness to you, you’re in love, Smoker. That’s what you were feeling. And if I’m being honest, I’ve been feeling quite empty myself too. » You confessed and opened your heart to him so he could admire each tone of vivid color painting your feelings for him which caused him to tighten his hold to bring you as close as humanly possible. He had found his cure and needed as much contact as possible. « I suppose you’re right, I do feel better when you’re by my side. »

And here, you planted yet another peck on his lips and gave in to the sweet temptation of savoring the taste of his lips once more. The gleam shining in the corner of your eyes reflected nothing but genuine love, and you knew it was the same gleam reflecting in his own orbs. « I’ve never been more glad to be sick in my entire life. » Smoker concluded, and kissed these words into the skin of the crown of your hair.

That’s when Smoker knew that perhaps he wasn’t emotionless, or at least, he was able to feel emotions as long as you were by his side.

aaaaaah ! thank you 🤯💜 ! it was so good (and Croco scares me, a lot)

🤯 amazing work—

thanks babe 💜

— 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐬

Thank you for you request and I hope you like it!💕

[Backyard Boy - Claire]

1:08 ──•───── 3:27

↺       <<          ll          >>     ⋮≡

❥　if you asked hawks for a hug he will give it to you alright.

❥　but once he hugs you, HE WILL NOT let go.

❥　you going to the bathroom? Nope he won't let you pee unless you really need to.

❥　you have patrol? He's going with you. And will not let go!

❥　as for how the hugs would feel.

❥　he would wrap his wings around you and put his Kdbkdbdjd

❥　excuse me he would put his head in the crook of your neck and breath in your scent.

❥　he would whisper sweet nothings in your ear

❥　if you guys are out side and for some reason he's jealous he would pout and kiss your neck, behind your ear and your shoulder.

❥　if he know ur doing it on porpoise he would bite your ear or lick behind your ear.

❥　nahhh he wouldn't give you hugs....

❥　if y'all are in public he wouldn't.

❥　but if your indoor yeah he would!

❥　sometimes it would takes some persuading

❥　But it all you really need to do is pout at him and stare at him for 5 seconds then turn around.

❥　he'll grab you by your shirt and pull you into his arms

❥　when ever he hugs you you felt safe.

❥　it was never too tight nor too loose if yah know what I meakejdkfkfk

❥　sometimes he would give you head pats your head

❥　if you tease him Abt it he'll stop. And not do it again for Abt a month until he does again.

❥　i feel like he would be the type of person to not move even if his arm feels numb.

❥　he would always hug you in bed.

❥　it is very rare for him to hug you while standing up.

❥　but if he does it means he tired and want you to join him in bed.

❥　OML I feel like kiri would give THE BEST hugs

❥　yah know those hugs where they would hold you and swing side to side

❥　and then he places his head on top of yours

❥　HNNNGGG I WANT KIRI HUGSS KSBDKDB

❥　and if you guys are in bed he would talk to you Abt his day and ask you Abt ur and all that chit chat

❥　hell give you all the hugs you want!

❥　if he's feeling down he'll hug you from the back and kiss ur cheek and rest his head on your neck.

❥　he wouldn't have a problem Abt public hugging

❥　if you hug him infront of the bakusquad™ they'll go and say "get a room"

❥　yall were just sickingly too sweet kenfkfnfk

❥　it was too cute for there eyes —👄—

All Rights Reserved! Pls do not repost on any platform unless given permission. :)

‧₊˚➳❥ 🏷️𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @1-800-wholesome @yamagucciii

jekdkdjdlb it was so well written ! THANKS A LOT MY FRIEND 🤧😭💜

LettresPromises informs you : you have one notification. 

> Letter object : ‘La fable du crocodile et du flamant rose.’

@theastroooooworld​ sent a letter :  ❝Hi, I hope I’m not bothering you! I really liked what you did for Mihawk and I would like to ask for a scenario in which Sir Crocodile fell in love (if it’s possible with this man) with a woman s/o pirate who also has a crush on him, whom he often sees in meetings of the shichibukais. Only, the evil Doflamingo also wishes to have the reader by his side. Et sincèrement, j'ai adoré la lettre que tu m'as remise 🤭💙, 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙙𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙞 𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙘𝙞 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙚 🤪❤❞ author’s letter :  ❝hello, you lovely human being! cam, you already know how sorry i am for being so late, and i apologize once more for taking so long. i do hope that this letter will make you crack a smile because i absolutely loved writing it!! sealed with a kiss, nikki. P.S: merci pour tout, t’es un ange, prends soin de toi aussi!!❞

Warnings : None, not even cursing, nothing. Genre : Fluff. Word count : 2.6K.

The aura emanating from each protagonist in this room was undoubtedly intoxicating— meaning that if a poor soul belonging to a rookie of the Marine were to step foot in the forbidden room, they would instantly bend under the invisible pressure created by the alliance of Shichibukais. In another context, and under different circumstances, the household names present in the vicinity could, metaphorically speaking, be considered as the embodiment of a guaranteed promotion if they were to be caught by the Marine all together. Unfortunately (or fortunately according to your point of view), the relationship between each Shichibukai and the Marine prevented anyone from daring to even nourish their hushed fantasies about capturing any of them for their own profit— they were pirates, they were fueled by the seven deadly sins, they had stains of blood on their hands and above all : they were untouchable. What a sweet, sweet paradox.

Some enjoyed this privileged status more than others, but amongst this group, all of them would think of the Marine each time they committed a crime— apparently, having the epitome of justice on their mind whilst accomplishing the dirtiest deeds humanity could think of made said deeds even more enjoyable as it was motivated by the impossibility of being reprimanded and thus, live a life filled by crime and sins.

But amongst their rarely mundane occupations, the Shichibukais still had to bend under the measures which came with their status, one of them being that their presence was mandatory to meetings to the top organized by the finest names of the high hierarchy of the Marine : Sengoku, Kizaru, hell, even Akainu sometimes despite his boiling hatred for pirates, the scum of Earth in his opinion.

The moments leading to the meetings were always the same — each protagonist would silently defy another one, the deafening silence squeezed between them would often hold interrogations or statements such as « what else have you accomplished since last time? », « I see I’m still superior. » or « My reputation shines the most between the two of us. » communicated through hushed laughters, raised eyebrows or a smirk plastered upon someone’s facial expression. These moments were always both stuck in time, because of how heavy they felt, because the pressure emanating from each Shichibukai reached its apex, because the oxygen became almost rare due to the toxins lacing each word longing in the air, because of who these people were. And yet, they were your favorite moments because they were the most intriguing— an irresistible mix of passion and curiosity.

You were sitting between two of the biggest producers of this vivid aura of intimidation— Sir Crocodile on your right, and Donquixote Doflamingo on your left, in all, you cursed and blessed yourself at once for having chosen this spot. Truth be told, ‘chosen’ was an exaggeration.

Each time a Shichibukai would enter the room, naturally, all eyes would be set on them. Judging stares, sometimes, glances which translated to « How come they are still alive? » or « Why are they still alive? » But when you stepped foot inside the meeting room, a new kind of tension spread through the room, and the two protagonists to blame both wore extravagant coats and had a sordid fascination for torture. They were gazes of envy, jealousy in its most vivid form, and silent questions hung in the air : « How come they aren’t mine yet? » Or statements like « I refuse to let this excuse of a man claim them, they are mine, and mine only. » (A statement, which, by the way, worked both in Crocodile and Doflamingo’s way.)

« My, my, my! Look at what the cat dragged in, ‘can’t say I’m complaining though, fufu. » The laughter itself was the signature of a maniac, which, needless to say, belonged to Doflamingo whose eyes were following your every move from his chair, his legs spread apart.

« Did you miss me that much since last time, Doflamingo? » You asked, as a form of rhetorical question, a fainted smile crept its way onto your face once the last syllables left your lips.

« I would be a liar if I said you didn’t occupy my mind these last few days, Y/N, and you should know how much I despise liars. » As the word ‘liar’ rolled off his tongue, his smirk faded away and instead, the emergence of a vein on his forehead was noticed as he reminisced the betrayals which stained his past.

You knew better than to interfere when Doflamingo dangerously crossed the line between moral and immoral, instead, you scanned the room to find a vacant seat to occupy. Perhaps next to Hancock? At least, you wouldn’t be bothered by the men. Oh, but she was bound to drown you with stories regarding the man of her life, not the smartest choice. The seat next to Mihawk seemed like a good option as well, but he was not one for conversation and you would end up talking to yourself. Another choice would b—… « Y/N, I could not help but notice you were desperately looking for a seat to occupy. How convenient, the seat next to mine happens to be free. Of course, the choice is yours, I only took it upon myself to offer you the best option. » Oh, such a suave voice you could have recognized amongst a thousand voices.

This statement caused a chain reaction : your orbs were now focused on the beholder of these daring words, an amused grin stuck across your face; Doflamingo’s vein grew bigger as he caught the audacity coating Crocodile’s every word; Hancock’s palm hid a hushed laughter at the reaction of the blonde Shichibukai, Mihawk silently wished he could disappear. Enticed by his words, you start walking in his direction until a warm touch stops you in your tracks : upon closer inspection, it was a harsh grip on your wrist which belonged to Doflamingo who (now) combined both the raging vein on his forehead and his signature smirk, a duo made in hell. « Don’t be ridiculous, Crocodile-Man, Y/N knows, deep down, that I will take a way better care of them than you ever could, don’t you, lovebird? Fufufu. » And that, precisely, was the definition of ‘taunt’, a presentation of mankind’s most provoking aspects showed by Doflamingo.

Crocodile hushed his responses, judging that entering Doflamingo’s mind games would the equivalent of handing him a victory he categorically refused to give him. A fit of smoke was blown, perhaps as a sign of exasperation, Crocodile was not keen on dragging this pseudo fight any longer— his hook circled around Doflamingo’s arm, and in a swift motion, your wrist was no longer the martyr of his tight hold. You couldn’t even gather enough time to bring your wrist to your chest that Crocodile’s large palm snaked around the same wrist and yanked it in his direction.

The aftermath of this motion was everything Doflamingo had once dreamt of, or rather feared in his most vivid nightmares— the sight of you, sitting on someone else’s lap. After all, wasn’t his lap welcoming? What did Crocodile have that he did not? It was infuriating, even more so because he could not seem to find the answer to this riddle, perhaps, in the worst case scenario, there was no answer in his favor and he was doomed to observe you sitting on your newfound throne. A vision of horror which made him frown and turn his smirk upside down, on the other one hand, Crocodile offered him his most victorious grin on a silver plate, a silent way to state his undisputed victory.

Crocodile’s hook was pointed in Doflamingo’s direction whilst his hand encompassed your waist— a clear and distinct switch in body language if you will : on one hand, the palm resting on your waist echoed to protection and desire to keep you closer to him, on the other one hand, the hook facing Doflamingo translated to a clear case of threat and perhaps even a way to dissuade him from tempting anything he might regret in a very soon future.

« It appears that victory is mine, wouldn’t you agree with me, Y/N? » Although Crocodile’s interrogation contained your name, it was directly targeted towards Doflamingo. « Don’t be fooled, the only person who won here is me. You’re bickering like kids while I’m getting all the attention, I can’t say I hate it. » You replied, the playful tone lacing your words matched with the grin spread across your face.

This not only signed Crocodile’s victory but also the beginning of the Shichibukai meeting, and almost every protagonist in this room had forgotten about the oh so important reunion—  the distraction brought by the quarrel of hearts between Crocodile and Doflamingo seemed to have hogged all the attention of the spectators of this scene.

Sengoku made his way into the room, an intrigued expression on his face which was as clear as daylight, « Sir Crocodile, Y/N, you do realize there are other seats in this room? » he questioned, although he was wondering how the situation escalated until reaching this point. « I’m afraid it will not be necessary, Y/N has already claimed their seat themselves. » Crocodile stated, with the same ill intention to send toxic jabs in Doflamingo’s way whose vein grew bigger under the more-than-obvious indirect verbal blow. « He’s right, this isn’t too shabby. » Sengoku showed no sign of surprise whatsoever at your response, he was in a room full of the most dangerous human beings alive, what else could he expect from them?

And so the meeting went on, and on, and on. But Crocodile’s position remained still— his digits brushed against the bare skin of your arm, and from time to time, his glance would switch between your from Doflamingo’s enraged figure (who was clearly not listening one bit to anything Sengoku was saying) and yours. But whenever his orbs landed on you, Crocodile could not help but drink in your presence and admire each detail crafted by the Gods until he could remember each inch of your body with closed eyes. You were torn between paying attention to Sengoku’s formulas and battle tactics, because it was a part of your job as a Shichibukai, and let your subconsciousness take the lead and allow yourself to melt into Crocodile’s warm and intoxicating touch. Each time the brushing motions would cease, it felt like the aftermath provoked by drugs— you craved for it, you needed it, and he quickly understood the underlying orders to continue through your pleading eyes half-hidden by your lashes.

« … Thank you for attending this reunion, you’re all free to go now. » Sengoku announced to a semi-attentive crowd before leaving the room, followed by Mihawk, Jinbei, Hancock (who did not miss to send a wink your way upon leaving), Kuma and Moria. Isn’t luck a wonderful thing? Now it was only the three of us in the room.

Doflamingo stood up, to your surprise, as if he was ready to leave the room too. He dangerously reduced the space between the two of you as Crocodile brought you closer to his chest to balance the cruel lack of distance. For a few seconds, which seemed eternal, Doflamingo allowed his orbs to roam free on your figure, drinking your stance in for future memories. His genetically given long finger traced the edge of your jaw, malice fueling his every move : « I can assure you that I will see you very soon, lovebird, and this time, I won’t lose and you will be mine. Have fun while you still can, crocodile-man, fufufu! » His maniac laughter signed the end of his presence in this room, now it was only you and Crocodile.

Silence lingered for a bit, as a way to let the both of you soak in the glory or the horror, depending on your sense of perception, of the events which had taken place earlier on. You were now the sole holder of all of his attention, and being the two only protagonists in the room offered the privacy Crocodile had secretly begged for since the arrival of Doflamingo. « Say, Y/N, would you really want to be his? » He asked although he was not really asking sincerely, taking another drag of his cigar as he awaited for your answer.

You brought your thumb and index right underneath your chin to fake a sense of interrogation, but the answer had already been stuck on your mind since you laid your eyes on Crocodile : « Mhm, I wonder… I mean, Doflamingo is pretty handsome if you ask me. What do I win if I choose you? » The faked innocent tone of your voice drew a harsh contrast with the importance of the question, but oh well, he had already noticed that. « Well, first of all, he will never quite kiss you like I do. »

If it was even possible, Crocodile reduced even more the space between the two of you until your respective chests were touching, his hook was delicately applying the pressure needed on the small of your back. Before respecting the rules of performative language, he admired once more the traits adorning your face and that’s when he realized that none of the paintings he owned could ever compared to the masterpiece of details and panorama of shades that were your face, he just hit jackpot.

His finger lingered just where Doflamingo’s digits used to be a few seconds ago, as a way to re-claim his territory and leave his imprints for good. Amused, Crocodile concluded his journey of touches by letting his palm rest right on your cheek in a way that his fingers could meddle with your hair behind your ear. Your lids shut close in response to his touch, already anticipating the explosions of sensations which was bound to come. And there, at this very moment, the explosions were set free and turnt into a myriad of fireworks— his lips crashed against yours and everything around you felt hot : your lips, his intoxicating touch, the sparks in your belly, you felt like a living volcano caught in eruption. His lips were perfectly molding against yours, as if they were made to melt against yours, like poetry in motion, if you will. Crocodile wasted no time and deepened the kiss, tilting his head in the process, you were breathless but you were willing to give up on air if it meant you could rest your lips on his until being persuaded of seeing stars.

To your surprise, he was the one who broke the kiss— don’t be fooled, his lungs hadn’t failed him yet, he was just dying to see your face contorted under the desire for more lingering touches and kisses. He couldn’t help but allow a chuckle to break free from his lips at the sight he was waiting for, or rather, the sight which confirmed his thoughts. « I shall take it as you belong to me now, and I’m positive you do not see anything wrong with this, my treasure. » And he concluded his sentence with yet another kiss planted on your lips, he was finally at peace with his feelings, knowing he had you now.

Moral of the story : never linger on an uncharted territory for too long while claiming loud and proud that you want to make this territory yours, the crocodile will always strike first.

YOU'RE AWESOME MY ANGEL ! AND STOP APOLOGIZING FOR BEING LATE !

bonne nuit & thanks 🖤✨