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kevlarcrack3d · 1 year ago

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I'm gonna write headcanon pasts for the One Piece admirals! They're just so damn interesting and I love their mobster/rebel/yakuza theme! Kinda reminds me of the games lol.

BEWARE OF ANGST!: MENTIONS OF CHILD ABUSE, VIOLENT CRIME, UNDERAGE DRINKING, AND SELF-HARM

So, I looked at the childhood images of Akainu, Aokiji, and Kizaru and made what I could make out of what I can see in the images. No kid photos of Fujitora and Greenbull yet, do I used canon events as refs.

Akainu (Sakazuki) 🐶:

He had a turbulent childhood in a crime-riddled place. His father was a crime boss who abused him for seeing Marines as his hero, because his dad knew more that the Marines and WG were corrupt and shit. After all, the dad was a criminal, while Akainu genuinely wanted to serve in the marines and stand for his "justice".

A Marine he idolized gave him the tattered cap shortly before he killed his father because that Marine brainwashed and gaslit him into believing in his twisted justice during his stay in that area while searching for pirates. Akainu saw the battle and was instantly INSPIRED. He would become like his hero and blow up his shithole hometown.

Akainu has seen crimes, vices, violence, and all sorts of moral decadence in his place, so it's not surprising his views on justice got fucked up. He learned street smarts and how to fight due to his environment. He met Aokiji after killing his dad (it's anime logic where the young kid can kill an adult with fighting experience) and both had a rocky, love-hate (yes, I used to ship these two) relationship while wandering and doing odd jobs before being taken in by the Marines.

Since both grew up in turbulent, violent environments, they had the physical and mental strength (and fuckedup-ness) to fight in the Marines, and it'd be a waste to just let them toil while doing household chores, right?

So, they were taken in and trained. All the time, even until they were admirals, Akainu and Aokiji were arguing, always. Their opposing views, personalities, and justices didn't help either. Sometimes, they'd even be petty, like, Aokiji just moves Akainu's bonsai vase a little and Akainu is in a real foul mood and then shit hits the fan. It's very hilarious to see, especially when they were kids, they always had to be disciplined because they were always fighting 😂.

Akainu always had to deal with Aokiji's apathy and laziness. Akainu was the kid always angry and serious, so he was a rather amazing student - always "upright" in the Marines' eyes. Aokiji was the lazy but smart one, as in, super lazy. During teamwork training, Aokiji was kind of a slacker at first and Akainu would fight him always. It kinda died down over time as they became adults, but Akainu is still pissed about it, as always 😂.

Soon, Akainu burned down his pirate and criminal infested hometown. Fuck the innocents and everything. There are criminals there and he will send them to hell. And he succeeded.

Akainu also had a rather romanticized view of the Marines as a child due to his circumstances. Anything about spreading justice, order, and punishing criminals, and he'll be pumped up. This is the shit for him, and he's quick to plan and act when it comes to these. Despite his angry, wild nature, ever since he was young, he was ever so PASSIONATE about being a ROUGH, STRONG Marine man. Hence, the rose of the fuckin' lady killer sheesh 🥵. Something here's burning hot and it's not just the lava!

Yah, yah, I just spent over half the year creating yakuza/boryokudan OCs and well, I guess the dashing underworld outlaw prince swept me off my feet 🤩🤩🤩...

Aokiji (Kuzan) 🐦: Aokiji had deadbeat parents who always let him get beat up. He lived in the same area as Akainu. Due to his family being deadbeat, he picked up vices and began to drink at an early age. He decided to wander away, doing odd jobs. Despite his apathy towards most of the world and anger towards criminals, helping people with chores kind of softened his heart. This has helped him develop a sense of compassion, unlike Akainu, who did these chores as a way to work towards being accepted by the Marines. Sometimes, Aokiji would be dog tired and sleep a lot in his free time.

Soon, he met Akainu and they accompanied each other. Being alone was boring, and besides, they were kids. They'd argue a lot, even while working, AND especially when sharing a sleeping space. Oh boy, they'd get violent when one starts pressing agains the other.

And that's the definition of true love according to what my shipper brain said

The Marines soon took them in and they began to train. Aokiji was rather apathetic to this at first, but then actually began to warm up a bit to his job. Sometimes, it was even entertaining, especially arguing with Akainu or simply bullshitting his fiery frienemy. But, as Aokiji became an adult, cracks began to show.

Aokiji began to see all the misery and corruption. The causes of poverty and crime, a lot caused by the WG. He saw innocent people hurt due to the WG. Soon, he fell back to his apathetic ways. But, despite being so jaded and weary, he still had that kind-hearted side for those with benevolent intentions, regardless of them being pirates or otherwise. Soon, he wanted to be free to do this and resign from the Marines. Deep down, he had a heart like the snow, cold, and yet beautiful.

Dagnabbit, I'm crying why the fuck do I do this to myself 😭😭😭?

Kizaru (Borsalino) 🙈: Kizaru's family was the type that placed all their hopes on him to achieve their broken dreams for them, so they encouraged him to learn and study. He was rather pressured sometimes, but he did truly enjoy his studies and reading. He'd happily skip to the library sometimes and told them his stories. A light to their world, if I must say. Aaaand the feels are back 🥲.

Kizaru then decided to join the Marines, a decision his parents supported, seeing he could finally give them an ego boost, like "HOLY SHIT MY SON IS A MARINE, NOW, CLAP, GUYS". Not really his dream or what he wanted, but he just went with the flow. He was an easygoing, cool, chill dude anyway.

Soon, he met Akainu and Aokiji in training. He ALWAYS had to be there to calm these two down if they started arguing. One mean look from Akainu to Aokiji or vice versa, "woah there, now stop my dudes" Kizaru was the pacifier between them. He was also the quiet, cool, but very smart kid who always was in the topnotchers. However, he was the type to suck up to the government's ideals and decisions of the majority of the top brass and whatever view a certain faction of theirs chooses as right. He was like a ship bobbing on the waves without someone to steer it.

Soon, he got to meet Vegapunk due to his knowledge on some certain machines thanks to his childhood of reading. He would keep a VERY CLOSE EYE ON THE SCIENTIST. That's what he was tasked to do. He had no problem with that anyway. Then, he met Sentomaru, Kuma, and Bonney, and maybe, just maybe, his nonchalant, neutral personality slipped away, having seen the innocence of a kid who viewed him as an uncle and the sweetness of a father and his daughter. He found himself having fun for the first time, but maybe, he just didn't know it. But the memory stuck.

To thisbday, Kizaru is still nonchalant as ever, but maybe, I hope, something might happen in Egghead arc now with him. Could be good development for someone so dull, yet so bright.

Dammit. Them 2D cartoon seamen making me cry.

Fujitora (Issho) 🐯: Oh God, this is a dark one. Fujitora was a very unfortunate lad. He had an, abusive, overpopulated family who hated him and beat him to near death. They saw he was durable when he fought back and decided to sell him to the Marines. It wasn't fair. But the world's not fair. Always, Fujitora saw poverty and very VILE bastards in his place. It was not surprising to him. But, his hell was just going to begin.

Fujitora had a strong moral compass (besides his gambling) and trained hard to spread justice in the Marines. But, as his rank got higher, the more horrible things he saw in the WG. Corruption, slavery, hatred, and all things unpleasant. Ugh, he wanted to leave. Why? Justice is for everyone, right? So, why can't he bring it to those above him, who abuse their power? That's right, it was the world being unfair.

All the shit he has witnessed made him sick to the stomach. Are these the people he was working with and working for? Yuck. He decided to resign last minute before a promotion.

But, before he left, Fujitora reflected on his life before being sold to the Marines and after being sold to the Marines. Just the same. It was just the same back there. It was just unfair, so unfair. Wherever he went, there were always bad people oppressing the lass fortunate like he once was. Fujitora was unable to take the gravity in that moment and cut his eyes. He decided to cancel his resignation and return to the Marines. That way, at least, he can rise up to a position where he can stand for fairness. But if any sign of humanity comes before him, Fujitora will be unable to see it clearly again, despite his kind heart. He may feel it, but never see it, so he can only partially feel it. A prize to pay for justice.

This one was sad. And when kindness did come to his heart genuinely in the form of Luffy, he couldn't see those kind eyes 😭.

Ryokugyu (Aramaki) 🐂: This dude seems to have sucked according to the fandom, but screw that.

So, since he's quite the simp for the WG, Aramakiwas bought as a baby by the Marines, so all he knew was the WG's ideals.

Though unruly and wild, he was valued because he was loyal, even when he did things outside anything approved, like not asking permission to deal with certain peeps. He was also very destructive as a child, so he needed lots of discipline, too. In fact, this wild boy has been chided more than anyone could count they stopped scolding him altogether 😂!

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abbythewritor · 5 days ago

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Winter is coming..

Prologue.

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Description:

Y/N Targaryen, the last true daughter of House Targaryen, bears the weight of her lineage on her broad shoulders. Young, fiercely determined, and often underestimated for her plus-size figure, she is forced into an unyielding marriage alliance with one of the most dangerous men across the seas: Crocodile, the ruthless warlord and cunning leader of Baroque Works. Torn from Westeros and thrust into the unpredictable waters of the Grand Line, Y/N must navigate the treacherous alliances, schemes, and monstrous forces that haunt her every step. As Crocodile’s bride, her life becomes a game of survival—earning his respect while enduring his cold indifference and manipulative tendencies. However, the fire in her blood will not be dimmed. With whispers of ancient dragons and visions of the Iron Throne calling her home, Y/N begins to embrace her Targaryen birthright, proving that dragons do not cower—they conquer.As war brews across the seas and in Westeros alike, Y/N’s journey will test her body, spirit, and mind. With Crocodile as both her captor and potential ally, she will rise through betrayal, blood, and fire to claim her destiny. Winter is coming, but fire and blood will follow.

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Author: HELLO welcome to my new one piece fan fiction! First of all, I just want to point out, I'm a One Piece fan, and a game of thrones fan, so, why not put them together!!! This story out of warning from my heart, IS NOT FOR CHILDREN OR PEOPLR UNDER THE AGE OF 18!! Game of thrones is a violent show, and combining it with One Piece, it's going to have a lot of graphic scenes like violence, a lot of nudity, love making scenes, and just, game of thrones stuff. BUT! DONT worry, there will be One Piece stuff included too, as it is a story about both shows, put together. Y/n in this story, which is you all! Is a plus size, over weight woman. I wanted to make this book to show women no matter what size you are YOU ARE STRONG! As it is exactly what this Y/n I created to be!!!!

Things to point out: One, I do not own game of thrones or One Piece, they are separate shows and owned by their creators! Y/n means your name. Y/e/c means your eye color. Y/s/c is your skin color, and Y/H/L means your hair length, and Y/H/C means your hair color!!!

Another quick update, if the text is small, I wrote this on Chat GTP for spelling and grammar, so the story would be extra good!

Alright! Without further a do! Enjoy the prologue of my newest book!

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The wind keened through the streets of Loguetown, a mournful howl carried on the salt-laden air. The execution square trembled under the weight of thousands, every voice rising, every body pressing forward as if proximity to the moment might grant them a piece of eternity.

At the center of it all stood him.

Gol D. Roger.

The Pirate King.

The platform beneath his feet was rough-hewn wood, darkened by age and the spit of rain from earlier that morning. Bound in thick iron chains, Roger stood tall, his massive chest bared to the wind. The man exuded something no noose could choke—something no death could claim. He was smiling. Not the smile of a defeated man, but one of triumph, as though he had already conquered death itself.

Beside him, Vice Admiral Garp stood like a stone monolith. His fists clenched at his sides, his expression unreadable save for the tautness around his mouth. He had begged, argued, threatened, all in hopes that Roger might leave this world quietly, without stirring the embers he knew were ready to ignite. But he should have known better.

From the crowd, a cry shattered the air.

“Where’s the treasure, Roger?”

Another voice joined it, shrill with desperation: “Tell us where it is!”

“The Seven Nations! Did you find them?” someone else screamed.

The Seven Nations—the distant lands across the seas, rumored in drunken tales among pirates and whispered over maps held together with wishful thinking. Westeros, they called it, a place where kings warred over a throne forged in fire and death. The Iron Throne—an icon, a myth—rumored to control the very earth and seas. To men who ruled the waves, such a place was an obsession. But if anyone had known its secrets, it would have been him.

The crowd swelled and surged, hands raised as if reaching for salvation. “The Iron Throne, Roger! Does it exist?”

Gol D. Roger tilted his head back, the dying sun catching the edges of his face. He turned, just slightly, to where Garp stood rigid at his side. “You’ll see,” Roger said, his voice low but carrying a weight that made Garp flinch. “This world’s far from over.”

Then he turned to the crowd, his voice booming across the square, silencing even the wails of the wind.

“You want my treasure?” he roared, his words carrying as far as the sea itself. “You can have it!”

A gasp swept through the crowd like a ripple across water, jaws slack, hands frozen mid-air.

“I left everything I own in one place!” Roger bellowed, his grin widening into something maniacal, something eternal. “Find it! The throne, the gold, all of it!”

For a moment, the crowd froze as if the world itself had stopped spinning. And then chaos erupted. Shouts and screams rang out as men pushed and shoved, their eyes wild with greed, their minds already chasing dreams they had yet to form.

Garp closed his eyes briefly, his face twisting with something too heavy for words. Damn you, Roger.

The executioner’s blade gleamed in the dying light. Roger stood tall, his chains rattling like the echoes of thunder. His grin remained. His eyes burned. And as the blade came down, the Pirate King died—but his words lived, spreading like wildfire, from the seas to the kingdoms, from the Grand Line to Westeros.

The age of pirates had begun.

The cool hands of the housewives moved over Y/N’s body, their touch efficient and dispassionate. The air in the chamber was heavy with the scent of oils and perfumes, the richness cloying against her skin. She sat on a low stool, her weight pressing into the cushioned seat, as they fastened the fabric of her gown around her.

It was Alabasta’s finest silk—a deep crimson with golden embroidery that traced the outline of dragons curling around the hem. It clung to her form as it was tied and pinned, the heavy fabric made heavier still by the way it was meant to accentuate her figure.

Y/N said nothing as the women whispered to one another. She had learned long ago that silence was her armor.

“Sit straighter,” one of them barked, nudging her spine as if she were made of clay.

She complied, but only barely. Her gaze remained fixed on the tall mirror before her. The face staring back was her own, though she barely recognized it beneath the powders and oils smeared across her cheeks, the kohl darkening her eyes. She was presentable. She was worthy. That’s what they wanted, wasn’t it?

The doors creaked open behind her. The women fell silent, their heads bowing as if to a god. She didn’t need to turn to know who had entered.

“Leave us,” her brother said, his tone clipped but soft—like silk pulled tight over a knife’s edge.

The housewives scurried from the chamber, their bare feet slapping softly against the marble. The door clicked shut, and the room fell into silence, broken only by the faint hiss of the wind outside.

Her brother stepped forward, his reflection appearing behind her in the mirror. He was tall and lean, his pale hair falling in soft waves over his shoulders. His face, angular and sharp, bore a cruel sort of beauty—a beauty that masked the rot beneath.

“You clean up well, sister,” he said softly, his tone almost kind, but Y/N had learned long ago that there was no kindness in him. Only control.

He stepped closer, his hands coming to rest lightly on her shoulders. She tensed beneath his touch, her stomach curling in on itself. He noticed, of course. He always noticed.

His fingers traced along the silk straps of her gown, tugging at them gently, one after the other. They slid from her shoulders without resistance, and the heavy gown pooled at her waist. The chill of the chamber kissed her bare skin, her full, heavy form now exposed beneath his gaze.

He didn’t speak. Instead, his fingers moved—tracing the curve of her neck, dragging softly across her collarbone, then lower, grazing the top of her breast.

“You are a Targaryen,” he murmured, his voice a low purr. “Blood of dragons. Fire incarnate. To think....that this body..." his hands traced lower, caressing her plush, and pudgy waist, stopping at her hips.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She kept her gaze fixed on the mirror, refusing to look away. Her brother’s hands were cold, the touch possessive, but she would not let him see her flinch. That would be a victory, and he did not deserve victories.

He smiled faintly, his fingers lingering for just a moment longer before withdrawing. He stepped back, leaving the air colder in his absence.

“Crocodile will arrive soon,” he said, his voice returning to its clipped, businesslike tone. “And I hope that he sees you as of I, a way back home. But." His eyes darken with seriousness and evil. " You will not embarrass me. Do you understand?”

She nodded once, her expression unreadable.

“Good.” He turned to leave, pausing at the door to glance over his shoulder. “Remember, sister—you are nothing without me.”

The door creaked shut behind him, and Y/N sat alone, her gown still pooled at her waist. She exhaled slowly, the sound breaking the silence like a shattering mirror.

For now, she was a pawn. A bargaining chip. A daughter sold to the highest bidder. But the blood in her veins whispered of dragons. And dragons, no matter how long they sleep, always rise

All she has to do.....is survive.

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