#and a neck archipelago

[blradley]

haha okay so what if

this book was set

on a series of islands

that are basically the remains of an ancient giant dragon that mineralised into igneous rock & several active volcanoes

and this ancient being is both venerated as a creator god and exploited for its resources, all while it is very, very dead and uncaring, and sloooowly crumbling into the sea

hahaha what about that???

[annievrse]

It Only Hurts This Much Right Now / Act I

Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader  Summary: When your captain, Luffy, tells you to run from Bartholomew Kuma on the Sabaody Archipelago instead of fighting, you end up on a submarine. Takes place pre-time skip. W/C: 15k C/W: Fic structure: Sabaody Archipelago → Dressrosa spoilers, canon timeline but majority canon-divergent events, is organised into scenes, she/her pronouns, no use of y/n. Content: panic attacks, anxiety, descriptions of injuries, blood, passing out, trauma (Luffy), and Law has his death tattoos pre-time skip because I said so.

Labyrinth Series Masterlist

— Scene 1 —

“Run! Now!” 

Your legs move of their own accord, your mind screaming against your captain’s request. Bartholomew Kuma’s Paw-Paw Fruit had your crew disappearing off the Sabaody Archipelago one by one. 

With ragged breathing and a burning chest, the further you get from the grassy patch, the more your heart clenches in agony. Your family is gone, and you don’t know if they’re dead or hurt, and the thought of them being in that state has you clutching your chest. 

“Luffy!” You scream as he vanishes from sight, your voice broken, but there is nothing you can do. The Devil Fruit you’d eaten as a child feels useless against someone of this calibre, so you run, just as your captain told you to. 

The island is in an uproar of violence and fear; the only place you know to go is to the Sunny. The Straw Hats’ dear ship, who’s been waiting for its crew’s arrival, only to be left abandoned when you run directly into the back of someone. 

You stumble backwards, the sudden stop causing your legs to give out from underneath you. You land on the ground, a sharp pain in your tailbone sending shockwaves through your spine. Breathing rapidly, you scramble to stand, but not before a hand clasps around your throat. 

“Who are you?” 

The voice is deep and commanding, and you spit your name out quickly. Your vision is blurry, but you can make out the vague outline of a large man, his fiery hair sticking out in all directions. With exhausted muscles and the little strength you have left, you claw at the man’s hand, his grip tight around your neck. The man scoffs and lets you fall to the ground, the second impact on your spine hurting more than the last. 

“Kid, leave the poor girl alone.” 

You rub your temples with tender fingers where a deep pain in your skull threatens to explode. 

Kid? Where had you heard that name before? 

Your voice comes out as a whimper, your body on the cusp of failing you. A warm liquid drips from your hairline, and you pull your hand back, your fingertips crimson. Panic rises in your veins, and you’re reminded of the terrible fate your crew faces. A dull ache on your side stops you from standing, but you try to do so anyway with no success. 

“Hey, you’re with the Straw Hats, right?” 

Tears collect on your waterline at the sound of it, and your brain focuses on one key component – Straw Hat. 

“Come with me.” 

Spluttering nonsense, you try to think through the rapid rise and fall of your chest, your inhales raspy, and your exhales short. Your body doesn’t feel like your own, and as tears roll down your cheeks, you wish Kuma had given you the same fate. 

“Calm down,” The voice mumbles, hands finding purchase under your armpits to lift you off the ground. “Panicking will only make it worse.” 

“M-my crew, they’re gone.” 

“Gone?” 

You choke on a raggedy cough, your thoughts disordered. With a tightening chest, you nod. “Can’t breathe.” 

The man calls something you can’t hear, setting you back on the grass. The sudden threat of Kuma out there and possibly coming for you next has you crawling away from the man, who has his back to you, talking to someone in an orange jumpsuit. Blood drips from your head onto the grass below you, and your arms struggle to hold you. Coughing out sobs, you keep dragging yourself further from where you know Kuma is. 

“Hey.” 

“Leave me alone,” You rasp. “He’s coming.” 

“Who?” 

“Kuma,” Your heart tightens as your lips form his name. “He’s going to kill me next.” 

“Fuck.” 

And before you reach the trunk of a Yarukiman Mangrove, you’re lifted off the ground and thrown over someone’s shoulder. And despite your feeble attempts at hitting their back, you aren’t getting down. 

“Don’t take me to Kuma, please,” The plea burns your tongue as you sob, your limbs thrashing. A sharp pain shoots from your side, and you wail out. “Please, get me away from here.” 

“You’re safe, you’re free now.” Usually, you’d need proof if a strange person told you something with so much certainty; instead, you nod, and your eyes close of their own volition, exhaustion overpowering your common sense. 

— Scene 2 —

You wake with a start, gasping as you sit up. Fear claws at your consciousness and leaves goosebumps in its wake. You don’t dare speak a word. Squinting into the bright overhead lights, you realise you’re in a bed, a thin blanket pooled around your waist. An IV protrudes from your arm, and you shiver at the feeling of it inside you. 

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

Your head snaps to the other side of the room, where a tall, lean man stands over a desk. You tilt your head at his appearance, familiarity picking at your mind. It isn’t until he turns around that you gasp. It isn’t his fur hat or patterned jeans that make you recognise him, but the deep steel of his eyes. 

Trafalgar Law. 

You’d seen him inside the human auctioning house where Luffy punched a Celestial Dragon, thinking nothing of him. Sure, he was a rookie pirate with a higher bounty than your captain, 440 million berries, but he’d done nothing to prove his worth to you. 

You stare at him as he walks over, his steps lazy. Trafalgar Law’s blood runs cold, and he’s nothing short of sadistic; at least, that’s what Shakky told you. The man before you now seems to stalk you like you’re his prey, but his voice is surprisingly full of something close to friendliness when he speaks. 

“You had a panic attack, and you were severely dehydrated, hence the IV,” You blink at him, your brain processing why Trafalgar Law is standing at the end of the bed and not a doctor. “You have a deep gash on your scalp and one on the left side of your torso, too.” 

Your hand lifts to your head unconsciously, your fingertips meeting gauze. It’s obvious there’s some form of pain suppressant coursing through your veins since your body is light and your mind isn’t nearly as sharp as it should be. You curse yourself for being so weak. 

“Best try not to touch it.” 

Frowning, you lower your hand, feeling the same white fabric around your stomach. This time, you can see the dark splotches seeping through the gauze. Your lips smack softly at the dryness in your mouth, and Trafalgar gestures to the glass beside you.

“Wanna tell me your name?” 

You mumble your reply, watching him warily as you sip the drink–-water. The room is quiet, save for the muffled sound of metal clanging. 

“Where am I?” You mutter, holding the glass between your hands. 

“My ship, the Polar Tang.” 

Your stomach clenches with panic. “Why am I here?” 

“Your crew was attacked by Bartholomew Kuma. Do you remember?” 

Nodding, your eyes sting at the memory. 

“You found me and begged me to take you away.”

Your gaze hardens as you set your eyes on him. “I didn’t beg.”

“Believe me, you did.”

Setting the glass onto the bedside table, you rip the blanket off and stand from the bed, noting the discomfort of your side. 

“I know you,” You say. “You’re the guy who did nothing as my crew freed the slaves from that auction house.” 

Tilting his head, Trafalgar says nothing, though his expression is standoffish. You stand there, your body shivering involuntarily. Maybe you should’ve stayed in bed. 

“Drop me off at the next port.” 

Trafalgar clicks his tongue. “No, can do; we’re not leaving Sabaody for a few weeks.” 

Your eyes dart around the room, noticing the lack of windows.

“I know you don’t trust me,” Trafalgar says, irritation dripping from his tone. “But there was nowhere else for you to go.”

You shrink from his piercing gaze and wrap your arms around your body, being careful to avoid your injury. “How long have I been here?” 

“You’re full of questions today, aren’t you?” 

You don’t dignify him with an answer and wait for him to reply. 

“Two days.” 

Two days? “I have to leave. My crew needs me.” 

“You’re no good to anyone like this,” Trafalgar shakes his head and raises his palm before you. “Besides, you don’t even know where they are.” 

You feel like screaming and crying and throwing up all at the same time. It’s not fair. 

“I mean,” He smirks. “You could always ask Kuma where he sent them.” 

You narrow your gaze at him. “That’s not funny.” 

Trafalgar throws his hands up in false defence. “Never said it was, sweetheart. However, you can’t do anything but stay here and recover.” 

You think it over. What he says is true, but that doesn’t mean you must be useless. His nickname washes over you after you go through your options, and you roll your eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

“What? Sweetheart?” He laughs, turning away from you. “I think it’s perfect.”

You want to retort, to yell at him for patronising you at a time like this, but are interrupted when a large something rushes through the door. 

“Captain,” The polar bear says, wiping sweat from its forehead. “Kid needs to talk to you.” 

Your first thought is Chopper and how excited he’d be to meet another talking animal. Your second thought is far more depressing, and you swallow the emotion lodged in your throat. 

Trafalgar sighs and waves his hand at you. “Change her bandages.” 

The bear salutes and walks toward you as Trafalgar leaves. “Hello.” 

“Hi.” You tilt your head, knowing better than to ask questions. 

“Oh,” It looks down at itself and laughs nervously. “I’m Bepo.” 

“Bepo…”

“I’m a navigator.” 

A familiar feeling rises in your chest. “A navigator, huh?” 

“Yup, I navigate the sub,” He scratches behind his ear. “Who are you?” 

You smile and tell him your name, slotting that you’re on a submarine in the back of your mind. “I’m a seamstress for the Straw Hats.” 

Bepo’s eyes widen. “Captain said we had a guest, but I didn’t know you were a Straw Hat… Anyway, do you mind if I change your bandages?”

Your walls go up, and you glance at the white fabric around your torso. “Uh–”

“Captain had to sew you up,” Bepo says solemnly. “It was a deep cut.” 

You nod and reluctantly drop your hands by your sides. 

“Let me just— over here,” The bear stammers before rushing to the opposite wall. Usually, you can stitch yourself up. Before Chopper had joined the Straw Hats, you were the one to aid the crew. Zoro’s laceration across his abdomen, thanks to Dracule Mihawk, was your most significant job. 

So, when Bepo returns with a fresh roll of gauze and scissors, you quickly take it from his hands. “I can do this.” 

“You sure?” He asks carefully, his teeth showing as he cringes. 

You swiftly remove the old bandage, unroll the new one, and apply it just as briskly. When the gauze is tightly wrapped around you, you notice Bepo watching in astonishment.

“Are you hungry?” He splutters, eyes still trained on your torso. You guess he’s not the best with blood. 

Your stomach rumbles at the sound of food, and Bepo laughs softly. You cover your stomach as you feel your cheeks warm. 

“Penguin made rice balls, Captain’s favourite. You’re welcome to have some,” Bepo says, walking to the door. He seems to have forgotten about your injury. 

You nod, but before following, you stick your hand out. “Can I take this out?” 

The bear turns around at record speed, his eyes honing in on the needle sticking out of your wrist. “Uh, Captain might kill you.”

You pull your hand to your chest. “Why?” 

“Captain does all the medical stuff; he’s a doctor. He wouldn’t want to take it out, b—but if it’s uncomfortable, I can take it out for you.” 

“He’s a doctor?” 

Bepo nods. “And a surgeon.” 

His large paws hold your hand delicately. “Okay, this is fine.”

You give him a wary look, letting him take it out despite the fact you can do it yourself. “You’ve never done this before.”

“I-I have, just not on people,” He splutters. “Captain makes me practice with fruit.” 

Smirking, you watch the needle slide out from under your skin. 

“Done. Let’s go.” 

You shake your arm before inspecting the area. Bepo is already in the hallway when you decide to follow him.

“This is the infirmary, obviously,” He says, then points to the other end of the hall. “That’s the Captain’s quarters.”

You nod, though you doubt you’ll need to remember the layout since you’re leaving soon. 

You follow Bepo up the stairs as he talks about the submarine, how it works, how he navigates underwater, and how it doesn’t implode. It’s all very fascinating, and you can tell Bepo is passionate about his job on the Polar Tang, but you can’t help but think about your own navigator— 

“—and this is the kitchen.” 

— how she knows the weather patterns like it's a part of her, how she draws her maps with such detail that it shocks you every time you get your hands on one, how you gossip with her until your cook pesters you to try his new dish. 

And then you’re being introduced to the Polar Tang’s cook, and it feels like an iron grip on your esophagus.

“This is Penguin,” Bepo says, pointing at a guy wearing a hat. You give him a wave, though it's half-assed, and you regret it immediately. 

“Hi,” You smile, trying your best to push the memories out of your head and make up for the lazy greeting. 

“Rice ball?” He asks, handing you said food on a plate. 

You take it graciously, thanking him for the snack. 

“How’re you feeling?” A new voice calls. You turn to see another man with a hat, but his sunglasses make him different from Penguin. 

It takes you a second to swallow the rice. “Been better.” 

“Oh, that’s Shachi,” Bepo says before turning to the man. “Would be nice if you introduced yourself.” 

Shachi shrugs and returns to his own rice ball. 

“I’m here too,” A large man mumbles. 

“Jean-Bart,” Bepo gasps. “He’s new. Just joined.”

You nod, finishing your rice ball. 

“I see you’ve met some of the crew.” Trafalgar’s voice makes you freeze. You wipe your lips and turn to face him. There’s a katana propped on his shoulder, and you take a moment to study it. 

Zoro’s face and stupid laugh pop into your head, and then you’re chewing the inside of your cheek. 

“I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping,” Trafalgar says, leaving the kitchen. You tug your eyebrows together and follow him. 

“I’m leaving soon.”

He ignores you and continues down the stairs and past the infirmary. From Bepo’s description of this floor, the only two rooms are the clinic and the Captain’s quarters, and considering Trafalgar is the captain, you deduce that you’ll be close to him. 

The thought makes you cringe. 

He stops before the final door and opens it. 

“Ikkaku stays in the other room.” He says it like you know who that is and ushers you inside. “She’s away at the moment.”

Stepping inside, you realise there are more doors. Three are on the right, and two are on the left in the smaller hallway. He stands close behind you. 

“Your room is through the second door on the right. Make yourself comfortable. We’re going into Sabaody tonight.” 

And when you turn to ask Trafalgar Law if this is some kind of joke, he’s gone. 

You should put a bell on him. 

The women’s room is more extensive than you expected, considering there’s only one woman onboard. You peer around corners and keep your footfalls light as you explore, not wanting to snoop in Ikkaku’s stuff accidentally. 

There’s an empty room next to the bathroom. Stepping inside, you realise that the warm light of the bedside lamp and the half-full bookcase in the corner make it seem almost homey. The bed is lush when you sit and run your fingertips over the quilt. What is going on?

Despite being alert, the comfort of the room allows you to let your guard down, and the feeling alone makes you want to close your eyes. Only for a moment do you let yourself pretend everything is fine. Luffy runs laps around Sanji as he prepares the fish he’s caught. Nami and Robin are lounging on the deck, and Zoro’s asleep against the mast. Franky’s tinkering with something under the deck with Usopp, and Brook keeps them company with his violin. You’re sitting on the railing of the Thousand Sunny with your legs swinging back and forth as you chat with Chopper, fixing a patch to the underside of his hat where one of Usopp’s inventions blew it off his head. 

It was meant to be a sleepless dream, yet you fall victim to the clutches of darkness and dreamless sleep. 

— Scene 3 —

You feel sick. Your mouth is dry, and your head is full of cotton. The last thing you remember is laughing at Chopper’s attempt at imitating Sanji. 

The isolated room is a punch in the gut, a harsh reality that beats the dream in your head to a bloody pulp. You swallow thickly and sit up from the bed. You don’t know the time since a submarine has no windows, and the actuality of where you are is a cruel reminder of your situation. 

You rub your eyes with your sore knuckles hard, ignoring the countless stars that cloud your vision when you drop your hands to your lap. There’s no sound from outside the door, and when you really concentrate, there’s no muffled noise from the level above either. 

You groan at the dull throbbing of your side but forget about it when your eye catches on a white jumpsuit hanging from the door handle. You endure the disgust that coats your tongue. 

Before you know it, you’re up and snatching the suit from the handle. You swing the door open, not bothering to care that it slams against the wall, and make a beeline to the infirmary. You only know he’s in there because the overhead light is on. 

Trafalgar has his hat off and a lab coat on. He’s pulling a latex glove onto his hand when you enter. 

“What is this?” You spit, holding the jumpsuit up. Trafalgar’s head turns toward you, his face barren of any emotion. “I’m not one of your pirates.”

“When you’re on my sub, you wear it.” 

Scoffing, you throw it onto a cot. “I’m a Straw Hat.” 

“You’re on my ship.” 

“Against my will.” You know it’s unfair, but the words spill from you anyway. 

Trafalgar shakes his head, a small laugh falling from his lips. He returns to his work before him on the metal table. “I’m not arguing with you right now. How’s your wound?” 

You ignore his question. “Well, when can you fit me into your busy schedule to argue, Traffy?” 

His unamused glance sends shivers down your spine, but he doesn’t bite. 

“It’s a safety precaution.” He says, lifting a jar to his face to inspect it. 

You look down at your clothes and the gauze around you and sigh. Your head is still fuzzy from your nap, and fighting him will get you nowhere, you can tell that much. It’s safe to say that Trafalgar Law gets under your skin, and not just because he’s a surgeon. 

“Not happening,” You shake your head and step back. “I’m not a part of your crew.” 

“As you’ve said,” Trafalgar utters, his voice tinged with irritation. “Fine.” 

Your face softens at the finality of his tone. 

“But when you’re wandering around Sabaody, don’t come running to me when someone attempts to cash in the bounty on your head. You stand out.” 

You smile, your pride overpowering any other emotion for a second. “You’ve done your research.” 

“370 million berries,” He states, turning around. “But I have yet to see why.” 

Your expression sours, and you spin toward the door to leave. “Goodnight, Trafalgar.” 

He says nothing as you swipe a new gauze roll from the shelf next to the entrance and shut the door behind you. 

“Asshole,” You mumble, flexing your hands to stretch out the fists you didn’t realise you’d been sporting—perhaps it’s best that you didn’t lose control of your powers in front of him. The walk back to your room is short, choosing to go to the bathroom before heading back to bed. 

After poking around in the bathroom for an hour, you exit with a towel around you, again noticing the lack of noise on the ship. It is eerily silent as you redress in your old clothes, but once you’re done, you see a new set of clothes on the bed. 

When did they get there? 

You hold the new top, noticing the size is slightly off. Sighing, you move your fingers in a certain way to change the width and length of the garment. “Sew.” 

Seams pop, and new ones are made until the ill-fitting clothes resize to fit you perfectly. You hum in contentment and place them on the chair in the corner of the room. 

You wrap your wound with new gauze, thanks to the roll you stole earlier, but the pain suppressants are wearing off, and the pain is beginning to seep through. Your gaze catches on the new clothes, and despite the bloodstains and dirt patches on the clothes you wear now, you decide you feel more comfortable in them than the foreign ones in the corner. 

Laying on the bed, your eyes close almost instantly. The emotion you feel from earlier and the spat with Trafalgar has tired you. You thought it’d be difficult to fall asleep in such ghostly silence, but when the blanket covers you, you’re dreaming about your crew again. 

—

It’s only slight, but the knock that comes from outside of your door startles you. You’ve been awake for hours, picking through the books on the shelf and thinking about how you were leaving Sabaody when it happened. 

Your name is low on his lips when he speaks it, and your heart jumps at the sound of it. 

“Come in.” 

The door opens slowly, like Trafalgar’s nervous about what he’ll find. 

“How’re you feeling?” 

You glance at your stomach and shrug. “Achy.” 

Trafalgar nods, standing awkwardly in the doorway, one of his hands digging in the pocket of his jeans. “I brought you some pills for the pain.” 

The bottle is small, but it's full of medication. You thank him, screwing the cap and emptying two into your palm. The air is thick with tension, but not the good kind. What he said earlier in the evening still rings in your mind. 

“I’ll show you why my bounty is so high when I’m ready, okay?” 

Trafalgar eyes you warily. “Okay…” 

“Thanks for bringing these,” You gesture to the tablets in your palm, trying to diffuse the tension. “Maybe I’ll be able to sleep properly.”

“You’re having trouble?” Trafalgar scratches his chin halfway out the door. 

“Not bad,” You lie, waving your hand in dismissal. “Just nightmares and stuff. About Kuma and my crew and drowning in a submarine.” 

You don’t know why you’re talking to him like this, exposing your fears, like he’s a Straw Hat, but something about his mellow demeanour is comforting. His shy eyes and shadow of a smile starkly contrast to the man you spoke to earlier in the night. 

“Well, I know that this submarine isn’t going to sink, spring a leak, or implode, so you can scratch that off your list of fears.” 

His good-natured humour surprises you despite his cold look. “Take two every four hours, and the pain should be almost absent.” 

You nod, realising he’s talking about the medication. Taking the glass from the bedside table, you wash the pills down. 

“Goodnight, Trafalgar.” 

“Night,” He murmurs, whispering your name afterwards. 

You open your mouth to say something else, anything else, when he beats you to it.

“By the way,” Trafalgar says, his voice oddly soft. “The situation with your crew will only hurt this much now. As the days pass, it’ll get better.”

He shuts the door behind him, and you stare at it like he still lingers there. 

You can’t help but believe him. 

— Scene 4 —

Bepo looks at you oddly from across the table. 

It’s the next morning, and he’d informed you the day before in his tour that breakfast was at eight am sharp. It wasn’t until you heard the first sound above you that you’d studied the clothes given to you with such caution that you thought yourself ridiculous before sighing and putting them on. You’d shoved your feet into your shoes and trudged upstairs to the dining room, where Penguin shovelled various foods onto your plate without asking your preference and sent you to the table where you sit now. 

“What?” You ask Bepo, moving pieces of your breakfast around your plate. 

Bepo jumps at your voice, suddenly finding the fish before him extremely interesting. “Nothing.” 

Twisting your lips, you feel bad for catching him off guard. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologise,” The navigator shakes his head. “It’s just that you’re not wearing a boiler suit.”

“Oh,” You mumble, looking down at yourself. Maybe you should’ve worn your own clothes. 

“It’s not a bad thing,” Bepo interjects quickly, noticing the look on your face. 

“Yeah, never a bad thing,” Shachi comments from the other end of the table. 

Bepo gasps. “Ignore him.” 

You give him a small smile. 

“It's just that the only person who doesn’t wear one is Captain Law. It’s just odd seeing someone else aboard not wearing one, is all.”

“Alright,” A familiar voice says from the doorway. “We’re going onto Sabaody. Get your shit together and meet out the front.” 

You watch the Heart Pirates scramble to finish their meals, stacking their plates beside the sink as they exit the room. Soon enough, you’re sitting at the table on your own. 

“You’re welcome to join us,” Trafalgar says. “Just stay close.” 

“I’m good here,” You don’t turn to look at him. “Not looking to cause any problems.” 

He sighs. “Do you need anything?” 

You think it over, deciding to take his question literally. What you need is to get off this island and find your crew, to get to the Sunny and go to Fishman Island, like the original plan. Instead, you’re on a submarine, docked on the island where your crew went missing without knowing how to get them back. Your words are bitter as they leave you, but you don’t regret them. 

“What I need is impossible for you to get.” 

“Are you always this melodramatic?” 

His quip surprises you. Your chair scrapes against the metal floor as you stand. You narrow your eyes at him as you walk to the sink and put your plate on the top of the stack. “Are you always this big of a dick?” 

“Only when someone is being difficult. It’s not hard to accept help, you know. Or is that against the rules of the Straw Hats?” 

You blink at him in shock, your voice low as you approach him. You can feel the power of your Devil Fruit tingling under your skin. “You know nothing about me or my crew.” 

“Yet, I can read you like a book,” Trafalgar laughs, looking down at you. “I see you fit in the clothes fine.”

“Are you done?” You scowl, your fingers moving into their usual position when your powers are in use. It’s difficult to control yourself around him. At least you got your answer as to where the clothes came from. You don’t have it in you to thank him right now. 

Adjusting the katana on his shoulder, Trafalgar sighs, lifting a finger to move the needle that materialised before his nose. “Let’s get out of here, hm?” 

You gasp at the sight of one of your needles, regret swimming in your eyes. The needle vanishes like it was never there as you grab hold of your ability. “I’m so sorry.” 

He turns around, ignoring your apology. “I see.” 

“See what?” You ask, breathless at your lack of control. Your feet carry you after him, seemingly having a mind of their own. 

“You ate a Devil Fruit.” 

You don’t care that he’s leading you outside. “What if I did?” 

When the breeze hits his face, Trafalgar stops, and you almost run into his back. “I want to see what it does.” 

You swallow thickly. “No.” 

Being outside, on Sabaody, makes your chest hurt. You try to push down the emotions clouding your vision and circle Trafalgar to stand before him. 

“No?” 

You nod once. “I’m not a circus animal.” 

“You say you’re not a lot of things, sweetheart,” He says. “When can I hear about something you are?” 

His words are honeyed, and you refrain from shivering. “I am pissed off at you.” 

His eyebrow quirks up at you. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” 

Ignoring him, you turn. “I’m going to get some supplies, don’t follow me.” 

“I thought you were good here… but, unfortunately, sweetheart, I wasn’t planning on it,” Trafalgar mutters. “Just stay low, okay? There are pirates and marines everywhere. No matter where you are, they’ll be there too.”

You acknowledge his warning and turn to leave, but the call of your name from his lips has you glancing over your shoulder. 

“Try not to open your wound, okay? Don’t need you dying on me.” 

— Scene 5 —

When Trafalgar told you there were marines everywhere, you thought he exaggerated. Surely they wouldn’t be around every corner, store, on every rooftop…

Now, you know better than to doubt his judgment. The screaming of civilians and the sound and vibration of explosions have your heart leaping every few minutes in fear. 

“Shit,” You curse as you jump into another alleyway. A group of Marines run past, and your heart beats in sync with their footsteps. 

A trip to the town is more complicated than you thought. Shoving your hand in your pocket, you fish out fifty berries and whine silently when you realise how little you have to spend. 

You don’t want to, but Nami’s tips on stealing and bargaining cross your mind. Thieving on Sabaody Archipelago seems like a foolish thing to do—there’s no way you’d get away with it with all the Marines on duty. Rolling your eyes, you step from the street and onto the main strip. 

When nobody jumps you, you make your way to the closest store. It's dark inside the building, but you use that to your advantage and slide various small items into your pockets. The aisles are empty; the only person in sight is the cashier, an elderly man with horns. 

Trafalgar’s words swim in your mind as you wander down the aisles. 

Don’t need you dying on me… I can read you like a book… 

His mood swings give you a headache; you’ve only known him a day. You couldn’t imagine having him as your captain. Despite Luffy’s carefree attitude, he’d never get smart like that, and he would never call you melodramatic. Hell, he wouldn't even know what melodramatic means. 

The thought of your own captain has your stomach sinking, but then your skin is burning at the sheer audacity of Trafalgar Law. Bepo seems to have a high tolerance for his captain, and you guess that skill only develops with time. You scowl at the thought of spending more time with Trafalgar than you have to. You sure hope your crew makes it back here soon. 

But, your mind is so focused on the captain of the Heart Pirates that it isn’t until you’re at the counter, paying for three rolls of gauze and a box of rice cakes, that the newspaper beside the counter catches your attention. 

PORTGAS D. ACE TO BE PUBLICLY EXECUTED

You stare at the headline. It takes a moment for the words to sink in. Ace. Executed. 

“Miss?” 

Blinking once, you drop the berries onto the counter, snatch the newspaper from the stand, and run out of the store with it pressed to your chest. 

No, no, no. 

At a time when your captain needs you most, you’re not there. No tears well at your waterline; only panic has you in its steel clutches. 

You sprint back to the Polar Tang, your legs burning and your mind racing. You don’t dare look at the paper again until you're safe in the room you’re staying in. Throwing it on the bed, you finally look over the details. 

The World Government has captured Fire Fist Ace…. The renowned pirate Blackbeard has been invited to become a Warlord…the execution has been set to be at Marineford in one week… 

Shaking your head in disbelief, you refuse to believe the printed words. You scrunch the paper in your hand and fly from the room into the infirmary. 

Trafalgar is nowhere to be found. 

“Please,” You plea as you run up the stairs and into the kitchen. “Hello?” 

The Polar Tang is empty. 

Your voice echoes off the cold metal, and you sink to your knees. A sharp pain rolls through you, and you look down at your stomach to see the bandages soaked in blood. The sight makes your head feel light. Your heart rate rapidly inclines, and the kitchen spins before your eyes, the adrenaline coursing through your veins tapering off. With shaky hands, you unfurl the newspaper. 

Where’s Trafalgar now? Where are the words he spoke to you last night? It only hurts this much right now? It’s not getting better, only worse. Why would he lie?

Despite your racing thoughts, the only name on your mind and tongue is Luffy before you pass out, and your head hits the metal floor of the common area with a dull thud. 

— Scene 6 —

“I’m starting to get Deja vu, sweetheart.”

You groan when you hear his voice. 

“I thought I told you not to die yet,” Trafalgar mumbles, urgency in his tone. “Never mind, the war’s started.” 

War?

“What war?” You slur, squeezing your eyes shut against the overhead lights. You feel exposed, and when you peer down at your body, you see a blue gown covering you. 

“Your body has undergone immense trauma, both physically and mentally,” He ignores your question. “It's been a few days since Bepo found you bleeding out in the kitchen.” 

You blink, covering your eyes with your hands. “What’s going on?” 

“You were comatose, close to death. You’re stable now, but I thought I told you not to reopen your wound and—” 

“Not with me,” You sit up, your eyes still hurting. “With the war.” 

Sighing harshly, Trafalgar sits on a chair beside the bed, resting his forearms on his knees. You turn to look at him, noticing his sleeves have been pushed up to his elbows. On his arms lay stark tattoos, the ink trailing down to his hands and then his knuckles. 

EATH

You open your mouth to ask about its meaning but aren’t quick enough.

“Whitebeard’s at Marineford. We’re on our way there now.” 

You furrow your eyebrows, finally comprehending the grinding and clanging of metal around you. “Why?” 

“Portgas D. Ace’s execution is today.”

The name makes you lurch, and you scold yourself for thinking about asking Trafalgar about his tattoos. How foolish. 

“What’s wrong? Is it your wound?”

“He’s Luffy’s brother,” You whisper, dread flooding you. “Why are we going?” 

Trafalgar gives up on your health when he realises you won’t tell him anything about it, but the information that Luffy is Ace’s brother catches his attention. “It would be a shame for a rival to die this early.”

“Rival? Ace is a rival?” 

Trafalgar lets out a humourless laugh. “Monkey D. Luffy is a rival.” 

You’re speechless. Wholly and utterly silent at his declaration. Your mouth opens and closes as you try to form the words your brain wants you to say but to no avail. 

He shrugs when he sees you attempt to say something. “We’re pirates, or did you forget that?” 

The idea that you could be here for shifty reasons hits you all at once. Sure, you’d thought about it when you woke up the first time, grateful that a pirate was willing to save you, to put their life on the line to help another pirate. But you were a fool for thinking it was out of the goodness of his heart. 

That’s why it all spills out when you open your mouth this time. “Why keep me alive, then? I’m a pirate from an opposing crew with a bounty of over three hundred million berries. Why not kill me and cash it in?” 

“You could be useful.” 

“Useful.” The word is bitter on your tongue. Useful, not as an addition to a pirate crew, but as a weapon to wield against the people you love. Who was that man from your first night here? Does he exist under the facade of Trafalgar Law? Or was it all a lie?

“You know…” He ponders, running his tongue over his teeth. “Leverage.” 

“Huh,” You smile fakely, disdain morphing your expression. “So, that’s all I’m good for?” 

“Right now? Yes.” 

Your hand flicks up before you know what you’re doing. The act of sewing his lips shut fills you with such jubilation that you can’t help but smile a genuine smile. The black thread of your power has Trafalgar rising instantly, the chair he was on flying out behind him. 

“You may be Trafalgar Law,” You say lowly. “But I’m not a pawn.”

Trafalgar claws at his lips before sticking one hand out. A blue dome covers the room, and you feel an odd sensation in your chest. It feels as though your heart is being ripped out of your chest. You scream in agony, most likely ripping the stitches in your side as you clutch at your breast. The IV needle in your hand tears through your skin, and your blood spills onto the gown you wear, soaking through it. 

Trafalgar gestures wildly at you, screaming through his closed lips as the threads tighten. You’re unknowingly making them taut, suffocating him. He staggers, the trolley that houses the surgical equipment rolling away as he falls to the ground. Scalpels and scissors clatter to the ground, the infirmary turning into a place of chaos.

His face is red, close to purple when you see it, a blue cube with a fist-sized organ inside it. Your heart. 

“What the…” Your brain seems to forget the pain when you see your lifeline in the hand of Trafalgar Law. 

You’re in such a state of shock that you loosen and remove the thread from his lips, your body falling limply onto the pillows behind you.

“What the fuck?” His voice is hoarse. “Are you insane?” 

“Are you?” You ask pathetically, still trying to process what you just witnessed. 

He doesn’t answer, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his lungs trying to take in as much oxygen as possible. He leans his back against the cupboards, his legs bent in front of him. The blue cube hangs from his fingertips behind his knees. 

You yelp in surprise and paw at the empty slot in your chest. 

“Give me my heart back,” You don’t know what you’re saying. How could he have your heart? 

Trafalgar pushes himself back to his full height, his breathing still ragged but quiet. “What Devil Fruit did you eat? They’re not strings, that’s impossible.” 

“What?” You ask absentmindedly, still occupied with the phenomenon of your open chest. 

“What are your powers?” He presses, staring at you. 

“The Sew-Sew Fruit.”

“Sew-Sew Fruit…” 

“I have thread and needles and shit, okay,” Your breathing starts to go rigid. “Where’s my heart?” 

“You suffocated me, that’s—”

“Trafalgar!” Tears roll down your cheeks. “Where is my heart?”

His body goes still, and the terror in your eyes is enough for him to lift it and slot it back into your body. The sound of blood rushing through you is loud, and you can feel the blood in your veins. The first beat of your heart back in your chest is painful but quickly dissipates as your body recognises it as its own. It’s an experience you never want to endure again. 

You scramble away from him, climbing onto the floor and pressing your back against the furthest cabinet. 

“Careful of your wound,” Trafalgar mutters, his gaze glazed with concern. His face has returned to its standard shade, and he rubs his chest. 

“I don’t care.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

The apology should shock you, but you shake your head in disbelief. “What was that?” 

He swallows thickly. “I ate the Op-Op Fruit. I can control all matter within the range of my room.” 

“This room?” Your hand lands on your side, the pain returning. 

“This room,” He says, lifting his hand. “Room.” 

And as before, a blue dome covers you, and you stare at the ceiling in wonder, though you’re confused about how you could be so fascinated at something that almost killed you. 

“Op-Op…” 

“So, what does yours do?”

“I have sew,” You gesture with one hand. “Which you saw, that controls threads, and needles, which controls, well, needles. Sew can be used to stitch up wounds, trap people, and, you know, tie them up, strangulation. Whereas with needles, I can produce giant ones for stabbing and stuff.”

Law hums. “That’s a simple way of putting it…”

A smile you can only believe came from the deepest depths of your soul spreads across your cheeks. “No wonder your bounty’s so high.” 

“And I now see why yours is so high.” 

You feel your body relax when Trafalgar retracts his room. “I’m sorry.” 

He shakes his head. “I deserved that. I was being a dick.”

“You were being a dick,” Your lips quirk. “But I was way out of line. I know we’re pirates, but—”

“What happened? I heard screaming,” Bepo barges into the infirmary, the door slamming against the wall. 

You shake your head in dismissal. “Nothing, I just fell.” 

Trafalgar’s eyebrows twitch when he looks at you. You could’ve easily told Bepo his captain almost killed you, but you couldn’t tell him you almost killed his captain, too. 

“Oh,” The bear sighs. “Are you okay?”

You nod, pushing yourself off the ground to stand. “Thanks for checking in.” 

Bepo smiles before speaking to Trafalgar. “Captain.” 

“What is it?” He asks, turning so his back is to you both. 

“We’ll be docking soon. The waters are rough around Marineford.” 

“Understandable,” Trafalgar mutters. “Get the crew ready to retrieve Straw Hat.” 

Bepo nods and quickly leaves. 

“We’re retrieving him?” 

Trafalgar sighs. “I told you, a rival can’t die this early. We’re rookies, we have to protect each other until the new age surpasses the old.” 

His words have a strange intonation of leadership as if he feels responsible for Luffy. And maybe it's the underlying knowledge that he feels like your captain could be useful to him, but for now, you’re grateful he’s willing to help him. 

“That’s sweet.”

Trafalgar narrows his eyes at you. “Get ready to resurface. We won’t have much time.” 

You look down at your bloody gown and hurry to your bedroom, your stomach churning with both excitement and dread. Excitement for seeing Luffy, dread for everything else.

— Scene 7 —

“Hurry up!” Trafalgar yells to his crew. “We get Straw Hat out of there and leave.” 

“Yes, Captain.” The response is a collective voice, and you stand in the corner, nursing your wound. You would’ve rather done it in the privacy of the infirmary or your bedroom, but with Luffy so close, you don’t care if the men see you. 

“Only Bepo, Penguin, Shachi, Jean-Bart, and I will be on deck, the rest of you are on standby, given things go to shit.” 

Another collective, yes, Captain, rolls through the common area. You’re on the verge of yelling that you’re going with them when Trafalgar finds your gaze and nods once, confirming that you’ll be there too. 

Swallowing, you inhale sharply. Your wound is secure, and you can feel your power surge through you, just in case. 

The submarine lurches, and then the crew rushes to their stations—some to the boiler room (you learnt was below your bedroom), others to the control room, and more to prepare the infirmary. It’s a practised procedure, and the tension around you reminds you of your own crew. 

Trafalgar clears his throat, and you turn to see him before you. “Be careful up there, okay? We don’t need you more injured.” 

You laugh. “Care about me, huh?” 

He clears his throat. “Just need my leverage to be in good shape if i’m to negotiate with Straw Hat.” 

You want to roll your eyes but don’t. You swear it hurt him to say that from the set of his jaw. 

Before you can ponder it, you notice Bepo taking the stairs up to the main door. 

There’s no time to be thinking about him. Luffy is your top priority.  

“Are we there?” 

Trafalgar glances over his shoulder to follow your gaze. “Yeah. Come on.”

You can hear the chaos before you see it. It's a cacophony of cannonballs, gruff wails of anguish, and the distorted sound of bones shattering. 

Bepo pushes the door open, and the wind hits you in the face. The air is thick with rot, burning flesh, and salt, and you cover your nose before you gag. 

“Welcome to the battlefield,” Bepo says. He means it as a joke, but it's utterly morbid.

Far away, chatter erupts when you step onto the deck. Marineford is seemingly silent at the arrival of the submarine. Blood sprays in the distance, accompanied by strangled cries and all you want to do is crouch down and cover your ears like a child. You can’t imagine Luffy here. 

“Hey!” Trafalgar yells, and your attention is turned to the floating bodies in the sky. You recognise who it is immediately and run to the front of the deck. 

“Luffy!” You scream, your eyes catching on his unconscious body. You feel yourself gag at the mangled state of his chest, but when you look at who is holding him, you’re stumbling over your own feet. “Buggy?” 

“Hey!” The clown yells, his eyes wide. “Hey, I remember you! You’re that girl who sewed my arms to my legs back in Loguetown! Why are you here?” 

Trafalgar snorts beside you, brushing off the rest of Buggy’s questions.“Quick, hand over Straw Hat.”

“I don’t take orders from you! Besides, what do you want with him?” Buggy asks. “Who even are you? What are you doing with the girl from Straw Hat’s crew?” 

Trafalgar ignores him, lips pursed. “Just hand him over, he’ll die without my help. I’m a doctor.” 

You notice the Fishman Buggy holds under his other arm. “Who is that…?” 

“Doctor, my ass! No doctor carries around a sword that big,” Buggy cries. 

“I don’t have time for your shit, clown. Hand over Straw Hat.” 

“But, what’s in it for me? You’re just a —”

The familiar high-pitched sound of a cannonball makes your heart leap. “Trafalgar…” 

“Uh, Captain,” Shachi calls, his voice wobbly. “Navy battleships are approaching the stern.” 

“Fuck,” Trafalgar curses. “Hurry up! Give him to me!” 

Four more cannon fires can be heard before the sub rocks violently from the impact. 

“Captain, we’re almost in their firing range!” 

The wind from a cannonball landing so close to the sub has you panicking. “Quick, Buggy!” 

“Don’t you start bossing me around, little lady,” The clown screams, his voice cut short when you feel the submarine lean dangerously to the left.  

“What’s going on?” Bepo yells, holding onto the railing. 

“Oh, fuck,” Trafalgar says, looking to where Buggy floats. You follow his gaze, your body freezing at the sight of Kizaru. “Drop him now!” 

“Fine!” Buggy exclaims, throwing Luffy and the Fishman down to the deck. The clown yells more nonsense, but you don’t care to listen. Your heart is in your throat as you watch them fall. 

“Jean-Bart, quick, they’re coming.” 

The large man raises his arms and catches them as Trafalgar yells, “Submerge.” 

You run inside, going down to the infirmary. The submarine lurches, and you grab ahold of the handrail to stop yourself from stumbling down the stairs. You enter the infirmary, dodging crew members as they prepare for the worst. 

Trafalgar and Bepo are nowhere to be seen, but you can hear shouting down the hall. 

“Prepare for surgery!” 

You slip into the corner of the room as the Heart Pirates file inside. The only evidence you get of Luffy is the glimpses of his bloody body. You cover your mouth with your hand at the state of him. 

“Set up for a transfusion! He’s lost a lot of blood.” 

The main door to the submarine slams shut, and the metal walls vibrate from the jolt. You wait with bated breath as the crew rushes around the room, sticking needles in Luffy’s arms and opening sterile equipment. 

It’s captivating how fast Traflagar’s crew prepares Luffy and the Fishman for surgery. If it weren’t Luffy, you’d find it exhilarating. 

Footfalls down the hall grab your attention, and soon, Bepo and the Heart Pirates Captain are entering the infirmary. Trafalgar holds something in his grasp, but you’re too engrossed in Luffy to realise what he shoves in your hands. 

“Keep this safe for him, okay, sweetheart?” 

You draw your attention away and look up at Trafalgar before noticing the familiar straw of Luffy’s hat between your fingers. Nodding, you curl your lips between your teeth to stop your emotions from teetering over. 

He walks away, taking white latex gloves from Penguin and putting them on. Trafalgar looks over the Fishman. 

“He’s been shot through the stomach… amazing he’s still breathing.”  

Finally, the last tube is inserted down Luffy’s throat, and you hold your breath while you wait for Trafalgar’s assessment. 

“Straw Hat’s injuries are fairly severe, too,” He says. “But I think his emotional trauma is the real issue.” 

Your heart skips a beat. Ace. 

“Do they need anaesthesia?” Penguin asks from the corner. Your jaw clenches at the mere thought that they wouldn’t. 

“No, Straw Hat is close to comatose, and the Fishman is unconscious. They won’t feel a thing.” 

Your mouth falls open. “But, Trafalgar—”

“It’s gonna be a fun operation, yeah?” 

His words make you feel sick. “Hey—”

“Get her outta here,” Trafalgar says, waving his hand in dismissal. 

“Yes, Captain,” Bepo mumbles, walking over to you. 

“Bepo—”

“Captain’s orders,” He says tightly. “I’m sorry.” 

You shake your head, your hands clutching Luffy’s hat to your chest. “I can’t leave him—”

“You have to; he’ll be just fine.” 

“But—”

The door to the infirmary closes behind you and Bepo, and you're at a loss for words. There’s no use screaming about it, Trafalgar needs to concentrate. 

“Stay here until I come and get you, okay?” 

Bepo smiles sadly at you before he leaves you in your room. Now that you’re alone and the adrenaline of helping Luffy has worn off your wound throbs. Groaning in pain, you limp to the bedside table and swallow four pills. 

The sub is silent, except for the relentless beeping down the hall. 

Suddenly, the sub rocks uncontrollably. Screaming ensues from the infirmary, and panic clutches at your chest. You stagger and fall to the bed, instantly rolling off when the sub jumps. 

“Bepo!”

Crying echoes down the hall as he races to your room. Your door swings open, and Bepo falls inside, rolling on the floor beside you. “Aokiji’s turning the ocean to ice!” 

The submarine surges forward, going faster and deeper. The rocking calms down, and Bepo knocks his forehead on the floor. “No more stress, please.” 

You sigh out a nervous laugh at where you lay on the floor. The sub jolts again; this time, it isn’t until the ship starts swerving that Bepo cries out. “We got lucky once. Now we’re really gonna die!” 

“We’re not going to die,” You say, trying to keep your voice even. “Just hold on.” 

Bepo whimpers, and before he can do as you say, he rolls into the other wall. Your name falls from his mouth in a whine, his eyes closing with dizziness. You cringe with pain, your body slamming into the leg of the bedframe. 

Finally, the sub evens out, but you can tell you’re going extremely fast. The door squeaks on its hinges when it opens. 

“You guys okay?” 

You lift your head to see Penguin panting with his hand on the doorframe. 

“Never better,” Bepo murmurs, his paws scratching the metal floor. 

You nod and attempt to stand, your hand over your wound. “How’s Luffy?” 

Penguin stands taller. “Surgery’s going fine. Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, just a bit dizzy,” You say, knowing your skin will be marred with bruises. You don’t tell him of the sharp pain in your temple. “Are we safe?” 

He visibly swallows. “Should be. Jean-Bart says nothing is attacking us now.” 

“Thank you, Gods,” Bepo whines in happiness, pushing himself back to his full height. “I’m going back to the infirmary. I need an ice pack.” 

You and Penguin watch Bepo leave, his legs wobbly. 

“Do you need anything?” Penguin asks, his eyes trained on where your hand presses against your side. 

“Should be fine, thanks.” 

He gives you a tight-lipped smile before exiting. You sit on the bed, lifting your shirt to inspect your wound. 

It’s bloody, and it's clear your stitches have come undone again. When will you catch a break?

Taking a deep breath, you unravel the bandage. Once the soiled gauze is off, you look away, feeling queasy. You move your fingers against your skin, not needing to look when your power starts. “Sew.” 

There’s no sensation when your needle pierces your skin and begins sewing you up. It's a painless procedure, one you’ve done one too many times, but a minuscule part of you wishes it were Traflagar’s nimble fingers threading a needle and cotton through you. It isn’t a welcomed thought, though you don’t curse yourself for thinking such things. You blame the minor blood loss and continue staring at the floor as you sew yourself back together. 

— Scene 8 —

You don’t know how you keep finding yourself in these positions, causing yourself unnecessary pain for the sake of others. Though, you can’t help it this time. 

Luffy is recovering in the infirmary after his surgery. It’s been four days since Trafalgar finished his procedures on your captain and the Fishman, who you have now learnt is Jinbe, a former Warlord. 

You’re outside the door, in the hallway, your backside hurting from sitting in the same position on the metal floor for a few hours. Your neck aches, and your back needs a stretch, but you feel guilty about getting up. You refuse to leave with your captain unconscious and without a specific timeframe of when he will wake. He went through hell in an attempt to save his brother, who you’d met once in Alabasta, and it wasn’t fair that he had to endure that while you were sealed inside a submarine with another crew. 

Trafalgar said it was unfair that you felt like this, and it took time for you to believe him. The past four days have been full of anxiety and tears, but you finally pulled yourself together to see Luffy without having a breakdown. You can feel sweat dripping down the side of your face, but leave it to do so, and you draw your knees to your chest and lean your forehead on your knees. 

“It’s too hot down here,” Bepo complains from down the hall. He’s on the floor, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as Penguin and Shachi watch him with apprehension. “I’m going to fade away. Goodbye, cruel world.”

“Shut up, Bepo,” Penguin snaps, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Now I’m hot, and I wasn’t hot until you said something.” 

“All that fur really sucks, huh?” Shachi laughs, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Bepo pointedly ignores him, slumping his body flat on the floor. 

“I hate going so far underwater. It gets so stuffy,” He cries before narrowing his eyes at his crewmates. “And the company is oppressive, too.” 

You can’t help the giggle that falls from your lips. 

“Not you,” Bepo comments, looking down the hall at you. “You’re not mean to me.”

“Yeah, well, we hate being here with you too, jerk,” Penguin says. 

“Such vitriol. What is a poor bear to do…?” Bepo whines, lugging himself to his feet. “To win the love of his crew members?” 

The collective disgusted sounds of Penguin and Shachi echo down the hall, and you lift your head to see why. Bepo hugs them both into him, rubbing his sweat on their faces. You smile at the sight, a pang of homesickness making your stomach turn. You remember Zoro doing the same thing to you and Sanji when you complained about his lack of bathing. 

“Fine! We’ll ask the captain if we can surface,” Penguin yells, trying to pry himself away from Bepo. 

“Captain!” They yell, stumbling over each other to get up the stairs. You sigh and return to staring at the wall opposite you. 

Heavy footfalls shake the sub above, but you ignore it, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. Your stomach drops as you feel the sub incline rapidly, and you barely smile when you hear the cheers from the common area. 

You stand when the sub is stationary, and there’s no movement above you. You place your hand on the door handle, the cool metal soothing the warmth of your body. You twist the handle and step inside the infirmary. The sight of the Fishman sitting up on his bed surprises you, but your focus is solely on your captain, who lays there motionless, with a large tube coming from his throat. 

“Who are you?” The man asks, and you jump at the gravel of his voice. 

You tell him your name. “I’m a Straw Hat.” 

Jinbe looks taken aback as you run your eyes over Luffy’s body. He’s covered in bandages from head to toe, and you can’t imagine what his injuries look like. You notice Trafalgar’s katana leaning against the bed.

“How are you here? Luffy said his crew was gone.” 

You stand over your captain, your face warm with emotion. You move the katana down to the end of the bed. 

“He told me to run, so I did,” You whisper, brushing his hair off his forehead. “I think he thought Kuma got me too.” 

Jinbe blinks at you before he gets up. “There sounds like trouble above deck. I’ll go.” 

You nod without lifting your head, though you can sense him studying you. 

“He spoke a lot about his crew. I’m glad you’re here.” 

Smiling wetly, you sniffle. “I’m glad too.” 

When the door clicks, you fall to your knees beside the bed. Trafalgar said not to disturb Luffy and told you not to touch his recovering body, but you can’t follow his orders, no matter how hard you try. 

“I’m so sorry,” You sob as you rub his wrist, the gauze rough against your fingertips. “I should’ve stayed back and helped you. Why would you tell me to run?” 

You know you won’t get a response, but having him this close after believing him dead is something your poor heart can’t fathom. 

You don’t know how long you sit there, your head leaning on the side of the bed, but when you come back to your senses, it's obvious the sub is moving. To where? You can’t begin to guess. 

But, you hope Bepo got his fresh air. 

—

Chaos has ensued above deck, you can tell that much. The sound of cheers and then screams of fear, with the dull thuds of arrows lodging into the walls, make you nervous. 

“I’ll be back,” You say, flying from the room. The submarine is empty when you get to the top floor, and you aim straight for the exit. 

The main entrance is ajar, and you push it open. “Trafalgar, what’s—”

“A woman!” 

You freeze after you stumble onto the deck. In awe, you’re suddenly the focus of several people, no, women, lining the walls of a bay. They all wave at you, clearly excited to see you. 

Smiling awkwardly, you wave back, glancing at Trafalgar. 

“Where are we?” You mutter, noticing the large ship in front of you veering off to the left. 

“Amazon Lily.” 

“Okay…” You drop your arm. “Why?” 

“They’re going to take care of Straw Hat.” 

Drawing your brows together, you shake your head. “What happened to being the best doctor on the Grand Line?” 

“I never called myself that,” He scoffs. “Boa Hancock has a fixation on your captain, so she’s going to house him here.” 

Boa Hancock. “The Warlord?” 

“Mmhm,” He hums. “I’m in the dark about how they know each other, but she’s eager to help him.” 

“He’s not something to be passed around.” 

“I know that, but Hancock is adamant about it,” Trafalgar says, voice hard. “Though I said otherwise, I do want him to be okay. Is that alright, sweetheart?”

“Yes, it’s perfectly fine, Trafalgar.” 

He gives you an inquisitive look, one that you brush off. “What’s your problem?” 

“Hancock.” 

Trafalgar snorts and cocks his head. “Yeah, well, don’t make that known here, okay?” 

“Why are we circling the island?” 

“Men are forbidden on the island.” 

“What?” 

“Luffy is the exception.”

You put your hand on his arm, holding back a giggle. “So, you’re going to get shot down? I can’t wait to see this.” 

Trafalgar clicks his tongue, unamused. “Unfortunately, you won’t. We made a deal with Hancock.”

“Disappointing…” You trail off, your fingers slipping from his forearm. But when you look back at him, his eyes are trained on the spot your touch was.

“Docking!” Penguin yells. 

It happens quickly and with skilled practice. A wood plank is placed between the Polar Tang and the patch of land, and the crew piles onto the island. 

Multiple women are on the shore, most setting up tables, tents, and a giant curtain printed with Jolly Rogers. The sun shines down on the grass, and you realise it's the first time since Sabaody that you’ve seen such greenery. 

“The Kuja Pirates,” Trafalgar says in your ear, pulling you from your mind. “Heard of them?” 

You shake your head, not daring to turn to face him. “But this is where Luffy’s staying?”

“Yep, I’m to treat him until he’s better, and then he stays here. It’s a perfect location to hide him from the Navy. You’d know how annoying they are, considering you’re just as if not more.” 

You gape at him, a slight grin pulling the corner of your lip upwards. “You’re kidding—”

A delicate hand on your shoulder pulls you away from him suddenly. You watch as Trafalgar keeps walking, never sparing a glance back. 

“Come with me,” You’re met with a woman with blonde hair. “I’m Marguerite.”

You tell her your name and follow her, though you are unsure where. 

“We have so many clothes for you to choose from,” She giggles. “It isn’t often we get women visitors. Most of the time, it’s men trying to infiltrate.” 

A pang of grief hits you in the chest. It’s unfair these women are still under the threat of unknown men despite having their own island. Though Marguerite doesn’t look too upset about it, you know they are more than capable of handling those men on their own. It’s inspiring. 

“Here,” She continues, shoving you lightly into a tent. 

Immediately, another woman hands you a red bikini. “Try this on.” 

And then you’re swept up by the group of women. Silks and linens are thrown at you, tried on and discarded when you decline the colour or fit of a piece. The women are in awe of your power. They ask you to mend or adjust certain places on their outfits, and you're more than happy to help. 

You hear the Heart Pirates murmuring from their spot on the grass behind the tent walls, food piled high on their plates. Despite your initial hesitation, you laugh along with the women, trading secrets and tips that you could only do with Nami and Robin. 

You feel comfortable here. 

It isn’t until you emerge from the tent that the men go quiet. After knowing you for a fortnight, seeing you in such little clothing has them hollering. You grit your teeth. 

“Enough,” Trafalgar snaps at his crew. You won’t admit it, but the commanding tone of his voice warms your cheeks. “Get back to your food, morons.”

Marguerite laughs at him, and then she turns to you. “Remember, strength equals beauty.” 

You nod, smiling, adjusting the straps of the bikini you wear with your power. It’s something you hold dear to you for a long while. 

“Line up if you want seconds!” A tall woman says, laughing when the Heart Pirates stumble over each other to form a queue. 

“You better get in there if you’re hungry,” Marguerite smiles. “Looks like they’ll take it all.” 

You spot Bepo near the front of the line and thank Marguerite for all she’s done. 

“It’s my pleasure,” She waves as you snake through the crowd. 

“Hey,” You greet Bepo. “What’s on the menu?” 

“Uh…” His eyes look directly into yours, his body stiff. “Stew.” 

You squint at him. “You wouldn’t mind if I skip the line, then?” 

“Never.” 

You roll your eyes at his clipped tone. Scanning the crowd, Trafalgar is nowhere to be seen. Someone in front of you hands you a bowl, and you thank them, stepping to the front of the line. 

“Hello,” The pirate smiles. “I’m Aphelandra.” 

You tell her your name and stick out your bowl when she gestures for it. 

“Must be weird being in a submarine full of men,” She rambles. “Are they all stretchy?” 

You’re taken aback by her question but laugh. “No, the only stretchy guy I know is Luffy.” 

She gasps. “So, you know Luffy?” 

“He’s my captain.” 

“Really? We must tell the Snake Princess,” With a full bowl, you’re pulled beside her. “Eat, you must regain your strength.” 

With your eyes on the trees, you do as she says. You swear you saw a glimpse of Traflagar’s patterned hat when you emerged from the tent. “Have you seen the guy with the funny hat?”

Aphelandra smiles down at you. “The spotty one? He went into the forest.” 

“Thanks,” You grin, placing your empty bowl on the small table beside her and making a beeline for the trees. 

It smells of pine and the rotting wood, and if it weren't for the crashing waves, you’d think you were on an island far away, deep in the trees. 

Your hair snags on a twig before you decide to call for him. “Trafalgar?” 

His response is almost immediate. “Here, sweetheart.” 

You follow the sound of his voice. Trafalgar sits against a tree, a burgundy bottle between his fingers. 

“Whatcha doing out here?” 

He shrugs, sporting his usual bored look. “Not a very social person.” 

You sit in silence as he sips his drink. The birds sing tunes you’ve never heard, and the waves crash against the cliff faces harmoniously. There’s an inkling of anxiety stirring your insides, but you know you’ll get through it. What did Trafalgar say? It only hurts this much right now... You repeat it like a mantra. It will get better. 

“Don’t think too hard. You might hurt yourself again.” 

Scoffing, you shove his shoulder. “Shut up.”

Trafalgar gives you a sidelong glance, a smirk on his lips. “How’s your side? Getting better?” 

You nod, your fingertips running over the bandages unconsciously. “The medication you gave me helps a lot, I barely have any pain.” 

“Good.” 

You study his side profile: the slope of his nose, the harsh cut of his cheekbone, the two gold hoops in his lobe, the dark hair that makes up his goatee... Swallowing, you exhale shakily. 

“I—”

“Excuse me.” 

You jump, looking up to see Marguerite and smiling when she greets you. You rub your palms against your thighs. What were you going to say to him just then? 

“Has Luffy regained consciousness?” 

Trafalgar shakes his head and keeps his voice even. “At this point, it’s up to his spirit and whether he wants to live or die. Nothing I can do anymore.” 

You’re surprised. He hasn’t told you that.

“Marguerite! Hurry up!”

The blonde girl turns, nodding. “Take good care of him until he gets better.” 

Trafalgar keeps the lip of the bottle up to his mouth but makes no move to drink. 

“His spirit, huh?” 

He sets the bottle into the dirt and twists it to stay upright. His demeanour shifts so seamlessly that you barely see it happen. 

“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable.” 

You look down at yourself. Usually, you’d feel embarrassed, but Trafalgar seems uncaring of such things. His eyes don’t criticise you, and you swear there’s a shimmer of something close to appreciation in his gaze. 

“I love it here,” You say, tilting your face to the sun. The distant chatter of the Heart and Kuja Pirates only elevates the warm feeling in your chest. 

“Then stay.” 

“What?” You ask, startled. 

Trafalgar closes his eyes and leans his head on the bark. You haven’t encountered his expression yet and can only interpret it as something close to pain.  

“I’m going wherever Luffy goes.” 

He sighs shakily. “Then it’s settled.” 

The air is thick, and you don’t dare move. You frown, mind racing. Have you done something wrong? Said something?

“Why would you—”

“Luffy! Calm down!”

The alarmed scream has you running toward the submarine, Trafalgar not far behind you. 

You see Jinbe standing on the edge of the cliff and reach him in time to see the roof of the Polar Tang explode, and something fly out the top. You're in too much shock to comprehend what’s happening. And before you know it, Luffy’s bandaged body falls to the grass with a sickening thump. 

“Luffy…”

“Something’s wrong,” Jinbe mumbles beside you. 

Your captain slowly pushes himself to his knees, his fingers digging into the dirt. “Ace.”

Your heart stops, and you grab Trafalgar’s wrist. The doctor is frozen. 

“Ace.”

Cries fall from Luffy’s lips, and he rises before you can approach him. “Where’s my brother?”

You stumble backward, Trafalgar’s chest is hard against your head. Clutching your stomach, you feel sick. He wraps his arm around you, his forearm leaning on your collarbones, barring you from running over there.

Luffy moves before you see him, and then he’s gone. 

“That way!” Penguin yells, pointing to the area you were not 30 seconds ago. The Heart Pirates go after him, but Trafalgar holds you close to him. 

“You’re okay,” He whispers, steadying you. His breath is hot on your ear, and your body almost betrays you. 

Jinbe watches Luffy run around with worry etched on his face. “What happens if he stays in this state?” 

“If he keeps flailing around,” Trafalgar says, narrowing his eyes. “He’s more likely to open his wound, and if that happens, then he’s dead.” 

You cover your face with your palms, unable to form words. 

“Quick! He’s down!” 

Tears blur your vision as you look up, but as soon as they jump on Luffy, the Heart Pirates get flung into the sky. “I have to get to my brother! Get off me!” 

“Oh, Luffy,” You cry, watching as he runs through the curtain separating Amazon Lily and the bay. The pirates stop before they cross the threshold. You want to yell at them for stopping, but remember what Marguerite said. 

“Repair the ship,” Trafalgar commands behind you, removing his arm to throw it toward the submarine. 

“Yes, captain,” A few of them obey, boarding the ship and immediately getting to work. 

You snatch Luffy’s hat from the rock when Trafalgar’s back is turned before standing on wobbly legs and running toward the curtain. 

“Hey, hey!” Bepo yells after you, but you don’t look back. 

Trafalgar yells your name, worry etched in his tone, but you refuse to stop. 

You must get to your captain. 

— Scene 9 —

You trudge through the trees, insects zipping past your ears every few seconds. It's humid in the forest, and you wipe the sweat from your forehead. 

A stick snaps behind you, and you spin around, your hands out. “Jinbe.” 

The Fishman grunts and walks past you. “We must find him. I fear he’ll get himself hurt if we don’t soon.” 

You silently agree, following him over logs and through thick brush. Luffy’s hat sits at your back, the string around your neck. You’d never put it on, but you don’t want it ruined before you give it to him. 

The ground rumbles under your feet, and you stagger. “What was that?” 

Jinbe quickens his pace. “This way.”

You jump over a particularly large branch and try to keep up with him. A scream echoes through the trees, and your body freezes in its spot. 

Jinbe glances over his shoulder. “The only danger here is Luffy.” 

“Luffy…” You whisper. You can't imagine the agony he feels right now. 

Another scream is heard before there's a crash, one that causes the trees to sway uncontrollably. You see rocks flying in all directions and duck to avoid them, using Sew to weave threads above you to catch stray debris. Birds fly overhead at alarming speeds, and you can only guess what was thrown into the mountain to create such an explosion. 

“We’re close, quickly.” 

Before you know it, you see your captain hunched over on the ground, his forehead on the dirt. You gasp at the blood on his hands and back. 

Luffy lifts his head, and you have to look away from the sheer torment on his face. 

“Luffy, listen to me,” Jinbe calls. “Your brother is—”

“Don’t say it!” Your captain screams. “You think I don’t know? You think I think this is a dream?”

You wipe the silent tears that run down your cheeks. It's jarring to see someone you’ve seen be carefree for as long as you’ve known him like this. You feel sick watching him as tendrils of your thread lift the debris from around your captain. 

“If this were a dream, I’d already be awake, don’t you think?” 

“Luffy…” You mutter.

“This isn’t a dream… Is it?” Luffy sobs. “He’s really dead, isn’t he?”

Jinbe sighs. “I’m afraid so.” 

Your captain starts hyperventilating, his breaths short and his face wet with blood and tears. 

“Luffy…” You call, noticing how his body freezes. His eyes find yours, and his jaw falls open. 

He murmurs your name. “Is this a dream, too?”

You stumble over to him, your hands out before you. “No, this isn’t a dream. I’m here.” 

“Wha— How? Did you see Ace, too?” 

You crouch in front of him and shake your head. “I didn’t, but I was at Marineford when we picked you up.” 

‘We?” Luffy asks, his voice holding a tinge of hope. “Are the others here?” 

“No,” You say, wiping his face. “It's only me.” 

Luffy’s cries don’t lessen. “Are they dead, too?” 

You feel your bottom lip tremble at the question. You shrug pathetically. “I don’t know.” 

Luffy falls back down to the dirt. “I’m so tired.” 

You throw Jinbe a desperate look, feeling Luffy slip through your fingers. 

“I’m so weak!” Luffy suddenly yells. “I’m useless!” 

“Luffy—”

“How can you call me your captain? I’m pathetic.” He stands and runs at the large boulder just outside of the trees. He slams his fists into the rock, breaking it into pieces. “I couldn’t save my brother or my crew!”

Jinbe walks up beside you as threads halt the stones from flying into you, and you struggle under their weight. 

“Fuck!” Luffy screams, punching another rock. “Useless!” 

Jinbe says your name. “I think you should leave.”  

Your hand covers your mouth, and your expression morphs into shock. Did you hear him right? You feel the needles of your power wanting to escape, to tighten around him. Your Devil Fruit purrs in your ear as it drops the rocks a few feet away and aims for the Fishman instead. 

“Please don’t make me force you.”

“No! I’m not leaving my captain here!” You scream, threads weaving from your fingers. “What kind of pirate—what kind of person would that make me?” 

“There’s no time for questions,” Jinbe exclaims. “Go!”

“I can’t—”

“I’ll bring him back safely. You don’t need to see this.” 

Your power cracks and fizzles out under your skin as you grapple for it. But it's useless unless you want to lose control, and you know better than to let that happen. 

“Jinbe,” You cry, body too weak to fight him. Luffy hunches over with his hands on his knees, yelling. “Help him.” 

“I will,” He waves you away. “Now go!” 

You sprint back to the bay, forcing your legs to run. You’ve betrayed your loyalty.

Your cheeks are stained with tears and dirt, and your hands are covered in blood. With weak knees, you try jumping over the fallen logs as you did before, but now you’re exhausted, and it feels like they are rocks tied to your feet. 

You sob frantically, stopping to press your palm against a tree every few minutes. Shaking your head, you sniffle. The bay isn’t too far away, and you can hear the seagulls chirping. Your fingers wipe under your eyes, though you know it won’t do anything. You can imagine the state of you. 

You hear Bepo calling your name as you stumble through the curtain. “What happened?” 

There’s blood all over you, which you failed to notice before; the staining on your hands was just the start of it. You stare at your hands as panic rises inside you. Who’s blood is this?

“Where did you go?” Trafalgar’s harsh voice hits your ears before his hand grips your bicep. “Who did this?” 

“Nobody,” You cry, holding onto Trafalgar’s fingers. “Luffy, he—”

You don't hear what the doctor says before he catches you. “Okay, let’s get you to the ship.” 

You shake your head, forgetting the blood on your hands when you fist his shirt. “No! I can’t go there. Not with Luffy out here.” 

“Okay, well, where do you want to go?”

If Jinbe were to be trusted, which seems like a silly thought to question, you know Luffy would be okay. It takes your mind a while to accept that your body needs rest. The adrenaline from seeing Luffy and then running is wearing off, and the fatigue you’ve ignored hits you all at once. 

You sniff, pulling him weakly to a rock. “I just need to lie down, and then I can fight for him.” 

Trafalgar makes no sound when you push him to the ground. Your breathing is calming down, though hiccups still pass your lips. 

“Who were you fighting against? Did they do this to you?” 

“Just sit still for an hour, okay?” You whimper, putting your head on his lap, his jeans rough against your cheek. You can feel his thigh tense underneath you, clearly not used to having someone so close. Sniffling once more, your muscles relax against the ground. “No more questions.” 

When you close your eyes, Trafalgar says nothing, and the waves crashing against the rocks are just as soothing as the hand on your shoulder. 

— Scene 10 —

There’s a hand patting your head when you wake. It’s not gentle, and there's no rhythm, and when you lift your head, you notice the bandages wrapped around his legs. When did Trafalgar get injured? 

The sky is dark, and the stars sparkle above you. It’s a sight you’ve missed. 

“Hey, sleepyhead.” 

“Luffy,” You're in shock at the familiar voice, scrabbling to your knees so you’re not leaning on him anymore. “Are you okay? Why are you here?”

Your captain shrugs, a dopey grin on his face. “I don’t think so. I’m here to say goodbye.” 

“What?” You shake your head. 

“Straw Hat. Pack it up.”

Luffy sighs, his wide eyes glassy. “You gotta go.” 

You pause, a crease forming between your eyebrows. “What? Where?”

“Traffy’s going to take you with him.” 

Shaking your head, you don’t dare take your eyes off Luffy when you hear someone walk up behind you. “I’m staying here with you.” 

“You can’t. We have to get stronger.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

Luffy puts his hands on your shoulders. “You’re going to go with Traffy, and I’ll see you in two years.” 

Two years. “Wait, what? What do you mean two years?” 

Strong hands slip under your armpits from behind and lug you to your feet. You feel your body lift off the ground but do nothing. You’re too shocked to form complaints against whoever’s taking you away. 

“Meet me back at Sabaody in two years.” 

“No, Luffy. I’m here now. Why would I do that?” You struggle against them, your power still sleeping under your skin. 

“We won’t stand a chance in the New World,” Luffy stands. “Get stronger.” 

The person leading you to the Polar Tang whispers an apology as they spin you around and throw you over their shoulder. 

“Bepo?” Your voice comes out in a cracked whimper when you realise it's the bear carrying you. 

“I’m sorry,” He repeats, holding you tightly. 

“Luffy!” 

“Please,” Your captain says your name. “It's the only way. I’ll be fine here!”

“What about the others?” You cry. “How will they know?” 

“I have a plan.” 

You scoff, bordering on laughter. “Of course you do.” 

“Get stronger!” Luffy yells. “And I’ll see you in the New World!” 

Shaking your head, a crazed laugh falls from your lips in disbelief. You should’ve known he’d do something like this. He never does anything half-assed. 

Get stronger. 

“Are you out of your mind?” 

Luffy cackles, tears bordering his waterline. “Yeah!” 

Get stronger. 

If he can smile at a time like this, especially after what he’s been through, then so can you. 

And if Luffy trusts Trafalgar Law to train you in the two years he promised, then so do you. You trust Luffy with your life. 

Swallowing your emotion, you smile back at him. “Fine! I’ll see you in two years, captain!” 

Get stronger. 

You hear Luffy whoop with joy, and before you know it, the door of the Polar Tang slams behind you. Bepo lets you down, steadying you as the submarine goes under. 

It hits you just before you take the first step. “Luffy’s hat!” 

“It’s okay, I gave it to him,” You turn to see Trafalgar leaning against the wall with his katana back on his shoulder. “You feeling okay, sweetheart?” 

“Physically, kinda,” You say, holding onto the railing as you descend the stairs. “Emotionally, no.”

Trafalgar clicks his tongue. “Expected.” 

“Captain, maybe she should eat…” 

You’re so terribly worn out that your eyes are dry. There’s no use crying when it doesn’t serve a purpose. You’re here now, and you will be for the next two years. You hold onto the hope that you’ll see your crew on Sabaody after that time, and that’s enough for a small smile to grace your face. 

You peer up at Bepo, who smiles sheepishly. “Hungry?” 

If polar bears could blush, they’d now look like Bepo. “Uh, no. Just a suggestion, you know… Food helps everything.”

He sounds like Luffy.  

“Can you make rice balls?” You ask Trafalgar. 

“Me?” He acts like it offends him. 

“Bepo let it slip that they’re your favourite, so I know you’d make them best.” 

“Tsk,” He glares at the mink. “I’m busy.”

“Surely not enough to decline making your guest food, Traffy.”

“Traffy, huh?” Bepo snorts. 

Trafalgar runs his tongue over his teeth. 

“Please?” You smile. 

“No. You’re a pest. Go bother someone else.” 

With that, he disappears down the stairs. You stand there with Bepo, the sound of pots clanging making your stomach rumble. 

“I can’t remember the last time he made rice balls,” Bepo says. “He makes other foods, but that one is special to him.”

You go to ask why, but think against it. Trafalgar wouldn’t want his crew members airing out his business. Instead, you shrug. 

“Maybe one day I’ll persuade him.” 

Bepo laughs, scratching behind his ear. “Good luck with that.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him. 

“Anyway, let’s go ask Penguin what’s for dinner,” The bear says. “I wanted rice balls, too.” 

As you turn the corner to the kitchen, the area is quiet. 

“That’s weird,” Bepo says. “Penguin doesn’t shut up when he cooks…”

A familiar katana leans against the counter when you enter, and before you can decipher why, Bepo gasps behind you, confirming your outlandish suspicion—which, as it turns out, wasn’t so in the first place. 

“What filling do you want? I’m not asking again,” Trafalgar’s voice holds irritation. He stands at the stove without his hat, his hair dishevelled. You refrain from giggling. 

Bepo makes a surprised sound. “No way…”

You laugh, stunned, and slide onto the bar stool beneath the counter. Trafalgar’s hat sits beside you, and you eye it as you think about what type of filling you want.

He nods at your request and begins preparing it immediately. Bepo hasn’t moved from his spot in the doorway.  

“Snap out of it, idiot.” 

“Sorry.” Bepo lowers his head and ambles to you to sulk in the chair beside you. 

Trafalgar works silently, seeming comfortable as he rolls the premade rice into triangles. He’s meticulous, using a practised amount of rice to protect the filling, and a knife to slice the nori into even strips. 

Watching him be so careful with the onigiri makes you wonder if there’s more to his delicate touch. One that can bring warmth and comfort to someone. If that translates to his intentions, and if he really wants you here, or if he felt pressured by Luffy to take you on board. 

The question bubbles out of you before you can help it. Despite the setting, it's not one about food. 

“Why did you tell me to stay on Amazon Lily?” Your voice surprises him. 

Bepo looks at you incredulously. The question hangs in the air, and you see Trafalgar’s shoulders tense. 

“I’m gonna go…” Bepo murmurs, slipping from the chair and running from the kitchen.

Trafalgar sighs, rolling his eyes at his crew member. His back is to you, but you can tell he’s thinking of a reply. 

“I figured you’d had enough of a submarine full of men. You seem happy on the island.”

There’s something unsaid in his words, something deeper, but you’re too unsure what it could be to delve into it. Instead, you smile. 

“And here I was, thinking I was just a pawn,” You laugh, running your fingers along the brim of his soft hat. The memory of a few days ago burns deep inside you. It makes you think about his hands again. “Besides, you’re not allowed there, so why would I stay?” 

“Mm?” Although the hum sounds non-committal, you can feel him side-eyeing you. 

You wouldn’t admit it, but you’ve grown fond of him. But your cheeks warm when you realise the connotation of your rhetorical question, and your focus remains on his hat. “Who will I annoy if not you?” 

Trafalgar sighs and laughs a breathy laugh. “You’re going to be a pain in my ass, aren't you sweetheart?” 

You raise your eyebrows and shrug, feigning innocence. His easy laughter gives you all the evidence that he wants you on his submarine. “Two years isn’t that long, Traffy. You’ll survive.” 

He mumbles something under his breath and turns around, two plates in his hands. 

You take one from him. On the plate sits two onigiris, each a perfect triangle with a strip of nori on the bottom. “Thank you.”

Trafalgar grunts and picks up one of his onigiris. You copy him, eyeing how he bites the top off precisely. 

“What’s in yours?” You ask, chewing. The flavour explodes in your mouth, and you refrain from moaning in delight. You can feel Trafalgar’s eyes on you, but don’t look up as you play with a stray piece of rice on the plate. 

“Grilled salmon,” He speaks when he finishes swallowing. “Do you like it?” 

The question seems loaded, as if he’s not just asking about rice balls. It catches you off guard, the discernable keenness. Maybe you didn’t notice it before, with all your exhaustion and constant unconsciousness, but he’s hanging on your every word. His eyes are full of hope before he blinks, and it vanishes. You swear you saw it, and it fills you with shy satisfaction. 

He definitely wants you on his submarine. 

Remembering his original question, you nod. “It’s good.” 

It's an understatement, but Trafalgar seems content with your answer and continues eating his food. 

“You can call me Law, you know. No need to be so formal now that you’ll be here for a while.” 

Your eyes widen, and a soft ‘oh’ leaves your lips.  

Trafalgar is quick to speak. “Only if you’re comfortable. I know I’m considered a rival and all that.” 

You mull over his request, eyeing his hunched posture and countless tattoos beneath his elbows. His hair flops over his forehead, and his lips are twisted into an awkward pout, and you realise this is the same man you saw on your first night. 

“Law,” You whisper, and when you look at him, your mind plays a trick on you because his cheeks are tinted pink, and there’s a vulnerable look in his eye. 

A fortnight isn’t a long time, and despite your quarrels, you think you’ll get to know Trafalgar Law much more than you anticipated.

[evilgwrl]

Arranged marriage! With ghost where she’s from a small island and ghost comes to collect taxes well the island is just a few hundred short they can make it up next year? Right?! Nah ghosts is like mmmmm I’ll take what yall call a princess mean while she’s struggling as much as the other fokes on the island so when Simon takes her way and finds out she’s never lived the simple life he makes it his mission to show her the good that can out of this arrangement smutty if you would 😭 I’m obsessed with the arranged marriage trope with ghost he’s a cutie patootie

Arranged Marriage w/ Simon Riley

Holy moly I love this…

Thank you for this idea @creepytoes88 I hope you don’t mind that I made him a king, I just wanted it to flow with giving her a better life and the tax collection <3

King!Simon Riley x Reader

Archipelago

CW: Being sold by your family to pay off debt, sharing a bath, oral sex (f receiving), orgasm bc simon knows what to do ;)

Word Count: 2,623

Twisted fingers hooked under the bark, knees scraped with stagnant flora, coiling limbs of bushy thorns blistering around the tropical plains. There was a subtle burn that sunk through your thighs, muscles gnawing at your bones before you finally settled on a thick branch, wind hissing in your ear, almost warning you. You paid no attention.

Pupil-blown eyes stared off to the view in front of you, lapping in the vicious strain of turquoise, untouched coral glistening an array of colours under the harsh sun. There was a trickle of sweat that ran down the back of your neck, your hair thrown into a rough bun as you shielded yourself with raggedy, overworked fingers.

You watched the skerries surrounding your island, a flurry of birds swooping low before nestling down on the warmth of the rocky floor. It was a peaceful sight. Nothing but the low crash of waves to be sound, the occasional calling of a fellow Islander working its way through the palms and out of the sand, before landing in your ear.

You felt the prickle of pain shoot through your feet as you landed on the ground, the grass covered in speckles of yellow dust sticking in between your toes as you hurried down to the village. Any bit of tranquillity soon disappeared as your eyes locked into the sight of the townspeople, the Island far too small to accommodate such needing families.

“Y/N! Where have you been? The King shall be here soon and you’re off running with the fairies.”

Your Mother’s tone was harsh and reprimanding, her eyes tight with wrinkles as she scowled, chucking a makeshift broom at you. You weren’t exactly sure what the difference of you sweeping would make, the life you live here, swept or not, is strikingly different to the one of a King. No matter how beautiful your Island is, your feet are permanently stained with grains of sand, skin is littered with dull scars and fresh scratches.

You understood her worry, offering her a gentle, apologetic smile as you followed her bustle of orders. Your Father was the village Chief, a wise man who led the people to survive without the worry of advanced civilisation.

You were seen as a headcase to the others. A woman whose head wasn’t fixed well enough to her shoulders. A dreamer. Your mind was amplified by the need to do more, to see more. Untouched beauty too turns mundane when you’re not allowed to experience it.

As night fell, the waves seemed to settle, burying themselves in the crops of sand that spanned around you, 10-legged creatures hiding away in the cocoon of a cracked shell. Palms slept with the safety of coconuts that would blossom into the town’s delicacy, the meat tender on the tongues of children, the water fuel for the fishermen. There was a large bonfire lit, the earthly crackle occasionally popping as a spark flew out, hissing against the cool air before dispersing into a drag of smoke.  

Girls chattered around you, smoothing down their appearances as they used crushed berries on their lips and the apples of their cheeks. You were never fussed about the King, hardly paying attention to him on his previous arrivals if he even bothered to show up. You took note of his lack of empathy, normally sending one of his men in his place, unbothered by the Island that’s supposed to fall under his command.

You heard the ship pull up, wood striking against the ground as it split between the beach, a carved woman tangled to the figurehead, flowing hair etched between wood and a man’s knife as she breached the island. They were a loud bunch, deep voices echoing across the Isle as your father walked down to greet them formally.

The air grew silent, thick smog suffocating the air as your father appeared, his figure shaking as he hobbled towards you. Toughened hands gripped your cheeks, stroking the sun-kissed skin to comfort you.

“Father, what’s wrong?”

“We- We’re short on our taxes,” he gulped, a hand planted in your matted hair as you scrunched your brows together.

“But how? We’re sensible, we work harder- How?”

“Things happen beyond our understanding sometimes, sweetheart, just know me and your mother love you very much.”

“I know? Why are you-” you stalled “- Why are you telling me this? What’s going on?”

“The King needs a wife,” he hiccupped as realisation set in, spine snapping into a cold flush as you attempted to wriggle free from your father’s grip.

“No-“

“I have to, Y/N, I don’t have a choice!”

“A choice? There’s always a choice! How could you do this to me?” The strain of a sob wracked through your chest, your heart beating eerily slow against your rib cage as you wailed out for your mother who only walked away, her face concealed by strands of hair. Hands coiled around your biceps, dragging you towards the ship as you carried on, cementing your heels into the dirtied sand to anchor yourself.

“Stop resisting,” A harsh voice spoke into your ear, nails breaking the surface of your tender skin as you nipped at the air, wriggling. Your limbs felt mangled as you were thrown over someone’s shoulder, your stomach caving in with a penetrative force as you choked on the air, saline tears streaming down your face.

Aching skin collided with the sand as you were thrown onto the floor, leather boots staring back at you as your head cocked up. His figure was tall, dressed in all black with a row of medals displayed on his breast pocket. His stare was dark, irises the colour of burnt whiskey, pale lashes flickering down at you before looking back up. The rest of his face was covered by a woven garment, handcrafted to perfection, painted with a white skull.

“Did you find it necessary to throw her at my feet like she’s some dog?”

“Your Majesty she was res-“

“It is a yes or no question.”

His voice was thick with malt, a hidden arrogance underlying his words as his eyes spoke for him. A veiny hand was offered to you, light scars tracing his knuckles before he lifted you, admiring you for a brief second.

“She’ll do. I’ll be back in 6 months,” The King spoke roughly.

The sea breeze was tranquil given the circumstances, the ocean rocking your tears to a halt as you huddled yourself away in the captain’s quarters. Your body was trailed with layers of silk, dirtied clothes moulded to your skin as you sniffled. There was a vast smell of salt, almost suffocating you as it burnt through your nose and hair. You scrunched your skin, rubbing at your nostrils before nestling yourself into a pillow.

You awoke to the sound of commotion. You took in the handful of women surrounding you, their hair tied back in a tight bun, protected by a frilly cap. They wore black and white dresses, aprons attached to their fronts and smiles on their faces.

“Good evening, your majesty. Shall we run you a bath?”

You sat up, hands creasing against the sheets below you as your eyes adjusted to the new scenery. You weren’t on the ship anymore.

“Where am I?” You choked out, huffing your chest out to look more intimidating. In reality, you look cowered, skin droopy with betrayal, burst blood vessels evident under your eyes.

“In your private quarters, the King requested we come to you, settle you in.”

You scowled, “I just want to be alone.” They left in a hurry, feet skidding against the floor in a squeak as they shut the large oak doors behind them.

The room was one for Royalty. The large bed was dressed in golden sheets, red swirls detailing the plush headpieces, solid gold baubles along the edges as tall stakes met the ceiling, lace hanging from them for privacy. Your feet hit the polished marble floors; calloused skin not used to such luxury that you almost yelped in unfamiliarity. Glass trickled from the overhead chandelier, an arrangement of crystals advocating flickers of light across the room, an occasional rainbow seeping through like a diamond in the rough.

Oil paintings hung from the walls, detailed gold wrapping around them as the figurines stared at you dauntingly. A plethora of books rested on shelves, a comforting sofa tucked away in the corner, highlights of red bursting through the stuffed pillows, plucked by the finest of feathers.

The room felt suffocating, the air a terminal sickness that wove into your lungs as you realised the severity of the situation. Your father – your parents, had sold you away to the King to pay for lost taxes. You were a miserable sight as you huddled over onto the floor, chest collapsing with cries as you attempted to grip the material beneath your knees, desperate for the sensation of sand.

Simon watched you intently from the door as he cracked it open, a deafening cough sounding from him as you looked up at him, bewildered.

“I understand the circumstances aren’t the best, but your people owed me, and they chose you as collateral.”

“I want to go home,” you hiccupped, facing away from him in humiliation. His leather shoes hit the floor, striding up to you in only a few steps.

“This is your home now, and in a few weeks, we shall be wedded. Whether or not you choose to invite your family is up to you, but I shall not tolerate disrespect. If you didn’t want the maids to tend to you, that’s fine, but I will.”

You watched his stalking figure disappear into another room attached to your quarters, the heavy pour of water indicating that he was running you a bath. You rose to your feet anxiously, popping your head around the corner as you took in the room. A large tub was carved with porcelain, wide in size with golden feet, bubbles guzzling under the powerful stream as the scent of lavender filled the air.

“Undress,” He spoke as you cocked a brow.

“In front of you?” You scoffed.

“You didn’t want the maids, now you have me. Undress.”

Your clothes itched as they were ridden from your skin, bare body flushed under the light as you attempted to conceal yourself from his bruising vision. The water scolded you as you sunk in, muscles relaxing instantly under the soothing oil. It was an irregular feeling.

You heard him shuffle behind you as you turned, eyes gawking wide as you took in his naked figure, cock resting low against his thigh. A squeak slipped through your lips as you turned around in a fluster.

His mask was off, his face a welcoming surprise. His brows were thick, bulging above slit frames, his nose slightly crooked with a masculine appeal to him.

“What are you doing?” you gasped, chest tight, eyes bulging.

“Bathing,” he practically snarled, “move over.”

Your belly felt hot, the unknowing feeling of arousal seeping through your pores as you adjusted in the water, the liquid rising as he stepped in before you were pulled back against him, bottom flushed against his thighs. You were tense.

“Relax, it’s just a bath. We will not do anything until you’re ready but after marriage, I will need heirs.”

“Heirs? I don’t even know your name!”

A hand coiled around your waist, tugging at the tender skin for a moment before it rested, settling at your upper thigh.

“It’s Simon, Y/N.”

“How do you- “

“What kind of King would I be if I didn’t even know the name of the woman I’m marrying?”

The air was hazy with steam, almost suffocating you as you felt yourself relax against his hard chest, delicate twirls of hair tickling against your spine. As your body settled, Simon washed you, entwined rag lubed with delicate soap as he massaged it into the crevices of your skin, any dirt seeping into the water. His fingers were long as they massaged against your scalp, digging any knots out with a gentle force before rinsing it.

You found yourself refreshed as you settled into the sheets once more, body fresh with a floral scent, skin drenched in almond oil, the glistening reflecting against the flame of the fireplace. The bed sunk in as Simon crawled in next to you, menacing frame wracking against yours. It was silent, the usual sound of waves and birds no longer hushing you to sleep.

Your fingers twitched as you played with the hem of your nightgown, letting out a low, exhausted breath.

“I shall not hurt you for as long as you are mine, Y/N. I hope you grow to trust me and understand that I am a man of my word. If you allow me, I would like to show you who I am and the life you can have here.”

You swallowed. There was an itch inside you that couldn’t be scratched, his words only adding fuel to an uncontrollable flame as you turned to face him, cocked up on one arm. Your gown hung low, strap dangerously low on your shoulder as he adjusted his vision back to your face, lips parted with a flushed manner.

“I’ve never experienced anything before.” Your voice was low, an evident streak of self-consciousness staining it as you averted your gaze.

“Let me help you.”

Rugged fingers lifted your gown up, silk resting against your stomach in a hunched manner as Simon gripped at your thighs, spreading them lewdly. He huffed out a hum of appreciation as you jolted in embarrassment. You were so open, so exposed to fresh eyes.

“No one’s ever touched you here?” He asked. You shook your head, gazing down at him with an unspoken innocence. You felt his lips curl against your thigh as he placed a gentle kiss to it, letting it rest against the warm skin before two fingers pulled apart your lips, glistening folds presented before him.

You felt pleasure tickle up your spine as the King placed a small kiss against your clit, a mewl escaping you as you instinctively attempted to press your thighs together. He let out a tsk as he looked up at you, amused by your reaction.

“Relax for me,” he said, arms flushed around your thighs before his tongue soaked up the middle, your juices drenching his lips as you squealed, your fingers wrapping into his dusty hair as he ravaged the taste of you.

The noises you made were wanton, slopping breaths soaking the air as he worked against you, slurping you into his mouth with an aggravated need for you. His teeth grazed against your sensitive clit, wrapping his lips around it before sucking, an obscene scream sounding from you as he continued the assault.

“Taste so fucking good,” he quipped, holding your belly down in place as your hips lifted, clit overstimulated by the amount of pleasure it only just began receiving.

“Sim-Simon, I feel strange- somethings happening,” you croaked, pulling at his hair in an attempt to stop him.

“Let it happen,” he growled, his tongue thrusting against your entrance as a finger pressed against your nub, rubbing it in circular motions as you began to hold your breath.

The pressure in your belly was turmoil like an unknown danger was approaching. Simon didn’t stop, the sound of your breath hicking stirring something primal inside of him as he held you down before the pressure inside you popped, a broken whine piercing the air as you came, hips rocking desperately against the King’s face as he growled against your heat.

He pulled away, spit slick against his chin, cocky smile on his face as you panted, chest rising and falling in a synchronised fashion. Your legs closed instinctively, wetness seeping between your bottom as you shivered, satisfied clit throbbing.

“I’m not done yet, sweetheart.”

[moonydustx]

I look better under you

Based on the song Snooze - Sza

Roronoa Zoro x F!Reader

Warnings: smut, mentions of scars, jealousy. Doesn't exactly follow plot canon.

Summary: After two years apart after the incident with Kuma in Sabaody, you and Zoro meet again.

A/N: I was thinking about doing some stories based on songs, especially in the future using one from Cowboy Carter for Ace because it makes so much sense to me. While that doesn't happen, we're left with Snooze, which is one of my favorites from Sza.

requests open | one piece masterlist

Long as you dreamin' 'bout me, ain't no problem

I don't got nobody, just with you right now

Tell the truth, I look better under you

I can't lose when I'm with you

How can I snooze and miss the moment?

You just too important

Nobody do body like you do

Your body itched when you saw a handful of greenish hair appearing on the horizon of the Sabaody archipelago. It was two long years without seeing each other, without talking, without the little escapades in the crow's nest where you spent hours tangled up in each other. Before you could prepare to talk to him, Sanji and Luffy also appeared in your field of vision, running in some direction you hadn't noticed yet.

"Let's go!" Luffy passed you who immediately started running to keep up with them.

"Finally a beautiful and real woman." Sanji's eyes practically threw hearts in your direction. "So beautiful, so fragrant, so..."

For a few seconds you thought Zoro was going to complain about Sanji, like they always did, but he remained quiet just as he didn't show any reaction when he saw you.

Your companions didn't know about the little escapades the two of you had and for a long time it was what made sense to you. Until your eyes witnessed Kuma erase Zoro's existence before your eyes, at least that's what you believed for a while.

"Isn't that the pretty girl from Thriller Bark?" Sanji caught your attention. A few meters away you recognized the pink hair and the gothic style.

The woman's face was almost glued to Zoro's as she yelled at him. Too close to be just a coincidence. "Why haven't you left here yet?" "I brought you here for nothing." Perhaps your vision was obstructed by the anxiety of being back - which now became a bitterness on your lips. Apparently the two years passed differently for him.

Ignoring the confused feelings, you and your companions ran towards the Sunny and before the navy even thought about reaching you, the ship was already sailing towards the next island.

"It's so good to have everyone back!" Nami hugged you tightly in a hug. "Come on, tell me what you were doing this whole time."

Islands with carnivorous plants, strange laboratories, giant birds, a castle with a certain girl with pink hair. Zoro was sitting next to you. As they listened to everyone talk, something about his posture seemed to show some discomfort in being there.

Everyone seemed to accumulate stories and adventures to tell and despite the small puddle of hurt that accumulated in you, you were happy to see your friends again.

"And you." Robin turned towards you. "What challenges have you encountered?"

"I went to a village that was being attacked by venomous insects. We had to keep shooting at them all the time and maybe that improved my aim." You took one of the small knives from your waistband and threw it past the small gap between Nami's neck and hair.

"Shown off." Zoro murmured next to you, attracting your attention for a brief second.

"Did the animals do this?" Usopp pointed to your arm.

Attracting everyone's eyes, you turned your arm, showing the scars that started on your fingers and went almost to the height of your shoulder.

"No." you smiled sympathetically as the shooter looked on attentively. "Let's just say not everyone on this island was nice or interested in the end of the demonic insects."

The others nodded and it didn't take long for them to engage in another story, paying attention to all the news. Even though you weren't looking in his direction, you could feel yourself being watched the entire time.

After a long conversation, everyone decided to explore Sunny. Review what they left behind, prepare for the next challenges. Before you could do the same, you felt an arm pulling you towards one of the rooms.

"What the hell is this." you saw Zoro in your field of vision. One of his hands closed the door and the other rested on the side of your head.

He tried again and saw you repeat the gesture. It took his brain a few seconds to process all the possibilities.

"It's been so long." he murmured, his face seeking the direction of your lips. Begrudgingly, you dodged his kiss. "What?"

"I understand." he started walking away. "Two years is too long, I understand that maybe you found someone else."

"I did this?" The tone of his voice was shrill and full of indignation. "Says the guy who was with the goth girl there. Did you enjoy your enchanting romance in an incredible castle?"

"Are you crazy?" Zoro analyzed you for a few seconds, seeing how safe it was to approach you. His hands found your chin and when you tried to move away from his touch, Zoro held on even tighter. "You know I had nothing to do with her. You know no one is like you."

Your own hands found his and went up to your face, relief was written on your face. Gently, one of your fingers traced the scar that closed his eye.

"Who made this?" you whispered, wanting to hold that little moment between the two of you.

"No one that matters now." He turned his face, kissing one of your hands. His gaze soon reached your immense scar. "About what you said outside, who was the bastard that hurt you?"

"No one that matters now." You smiled, enjoying his touch on your face. "You know I hate her, don't you?"

"Perona?"

"I wish I had killed that bitch in Thriller Bark!" you grumbled, earning a laugh from Zoro.

He wanted to kiss you, heavens he wanted to be able to take you there but he had missed hearing you too much and seeing your eyes shining in his direction. Everything else could wait.

"You only say that because she was playing with the ghosts and you."

"Exactly." your hands went down to the back of his head, pulling him closer. "I'd kill that bitch again just to think of her stealing what's mine."

You could feel Zoro's laughter almost on your skin, given the proximity. "So jealous" he murmured and before his lips stole yours, the two of you were interrupted when you were thrown from the door and the presence of a euphoric Luffy appeared.

"Let's eat! Sanji is going to make a huge feast for you and us." he pulled you by the shoulders. "Can you get your knife between Brook's ribs, say yes, please."

"Does he know you want to do this?" you asked him, taking advantage of Zoro's support to stand up.

"He said he'll accept it, if you let him see the color of your panties." Luffy spoke with a naturalness that brought laughter from you and a groan from the swordsman.

"He won't see, but..." you warned, tugging at the waistband of your pants. "It's pink, with white polka dots." Brook's scream outside indicated that he had heard the entire conversation and had probably combusted.

"Hit his head." Zoro grumbled, leaving the room before you.

A lot of thrown knives, a huge feast made by Sanji - and considering that Luffy ate more than half of it claiming he missed the food the cook made. You watched some of your friends retreat to your quarters.

"Has anyone seen Zoro?"

"He said he would be upstairs if anyone needed him." Chopper warned you and you thanked him, leaving him behind.

Knowing he would probably be alone, you walked up the stairs to the crow's nest and entered unceremoniously. Zoro was lying down, contemplating the ceiling.

"I thought it would take longer." He stood up, coming towards you.

"It's just that everyone is going to sleep, I think we can talk properly now." the words barely had space to leave your lips before Zoro reached you and crashed his lips into yours.

Your hands were against his chest and even though you wanted to move away to at least try to talk before finding out what happened during this time outside, Zoro's lips took yours in an intoxicating way. Honey, drinks and longing mixed in your mouths.

"We can talk later." he murmured, almost reading your thoughts. "I just miss you."

"Me too." your lips heaved as you felt his arms lift you so that your legs were wrapped around his.

Such a movement was made only so that Zoro could take you to the ground in a strange delicacy on his part. The green threads became your fingers' favorite path while his hands removed the few pieces of clothing that your body still had.

"No one that matters now?" he traced some scars that adorned your back and watched you twitch. "I'll still kill the bastard."

"This someone is no longer here for you to take revenge on." you took his lips as a distraction for your hands to slide over the shoulders hidden in the kimono.

"That's my girl."

Scars, bruises, nothing would take away the pleasure of Zoro's contemplation. The long two years didn't really seem that long until he saw you. How can you wait so long? How did he not go crazy and come back even if he swam to Sabaody?

"Hi greenie." You caught his attention by letting your hands caress his cheek. "Are you ok babe?"

"You are so beautiful." The words came out suddenly as if it were common for you to hear that every day.

If it were up to him alone, he would make a point of repeating that all night and for the rest of the next nights as well. Your eyes looking down at him asking for attention to your body, your legs closing against his body, small sighs as you felt him touch you. You underneath him was one of the best sights Zoro would have for the rest of his life.

His lips traced every contour of your skin. Every shiver was swallowed by a kiss, every shiver was trapped between his lips. The damp fabric of your panties didn't last long as a hindrance to the swordsman who turned you into tatters. It was like enjoying a feast after years of scarcity, drinking the divine honey that flowed from you.

"Still delicious." "I missed you so much."

Zoro couldn't contain a light laugh when he saw you cover your mouth with both hands, avoiding the screams that hit your body as you poured yourself onto his lips. Your waist took on a life of its own with the sensitivity of your pussy against his tongue.

Without any effort, Zoro turned you around and, handling you, placed your body on top of him, in a lotus position. His cock brought friction against your clitoris, your belly burning with pure anxiety and his hands made your hips move against him without even penetrating you. Your lips already hurt from the pressure you used to not let any noise escape.

"Let me hear you, please." One of his hands caught your hair, placing your head against the back of his neck. "Moan just for me baby. I need to hear you."

"Zoro, fuck, don't torture me. Just fuck me, please."

Hearing you beg was the closest thing a devil like him would get to heaven. Wrong, so wrong. Feeling your pussy contract with every inch he put in, that was paradise.

Despite feeling like you could explode at any moment, you moved slowly, not wanting the night to end. The grips against your ass, the eager hands pressing you against the base of his cock. Neither of them seemed to be able to last long.

The peak reached you first, your lips against the sweaty back of your neck, your fingers prickling the green strands begging for more and more, it was enough for Zoro to sink his teeth into your soft skin, containing his own moans and filling you up.

He lay down, still keeping himself inside you and allowing you to lay against his chest.

"You have new ones too." Your fingers traced some new scars.

"You don't like them?"

"Still beautiful, as always. Zo?"

" What do you need, sweet?"

"I know it wasn't our choice, but... Promise that if we get separated again, we'll find a way and find each other." Your eager eyes drew a sigh from the man, who pressed you even tighter against his embrace.

"This is the easiest promise I've ever made."

The sun began to rise when you could no longer keep your eyes open. With your body tied to Zoro's and covered by his kimono, without worrying if anyone would arrive, the two of you both took a snooze.

[daistea]

Can I request a thing where reader gives mithrun chap stick, I know it’s as medieval fantasy setting and all but there has to be something to put on those messy lips 🥀🥀🥀 like slime saliva or something ANYTHING 🥺

anything, you say?

as you wish..

mithrun x gn reader

1000 words

no tw!

★・・・・・・★★・・・・・・★

Beeswax. Butter. Oil from something fatty– preferably a coconut. 

How the hell were you supposed to get a coconut in Melini?

No big deal. You’d figure it out, you were good at figuring things out. This concoction was for the sake of your relationship, of your sanity. 

Nearby, Mithrun wandered into the room. His footsteps were usually silent, but you saw his shadow stretch across the floor. You snapped the potions book shut and turned to face your partner, who only raised a brow at your tense behavior. The stare-off began. Your mind raced. Coconuts… Mithrun was smart, he would know.

“How would one hypothetically get their hands on a coconut?” You blurted out.

Mithrun remained unphased, but answered immediately, “By chance. A migrating swallow could carry a coconut overseas.”

You scoffed, “A swallow?”

“It could grip it by the husk.”

 “It’s not a matter of where it grips it. A five ounce bird could not carry a one pound coconut.”

“Depends on if the swallow is from Kahka Brud or the Eastern Archipelago.”

“I don’t think it matters.”

“Three swallows could carry the coconut together.”

“Okay,” you waved a dismissive hand, “you’re just being silly now. I’ll figure it out myself.”

You turned around to continue your perusal of chapstick recipes, yet the feeling of familiar arms snaking around your waist gave you pause. Mithrun pressed his chest against your back and propped his chin up on your shoulder. He must’ve teleported across the room to get to you so quickly. You knew his gaze was on the potions book in your hands. You knew he was staring, the gears in his mind whirring and spinning. 

“Crafting something?” Mithrun asked quietly, nuzzling his nose into your neck. Automatically, you tilted your head to give him better access. 

“I’m…” ideas ran through your mind like a flood, and you unfortunately landed on the first one that stood out, “I’m making a laxative potion. For Kabru. He’s constipated, ate too much cheese. Those bowels are stuffed.”

Mithrun let out a sharp exhale of air through his nose, his version of an amused snort. He probably knew you were lying, he always did. He seemed to have a sense for those kinds of things. Fortunately, he questioned you no further and instead started his usual attempts to distract you. He kissed your neck, his hands went to your hips, he pinned you to the table…

Those attempts usually worked. 

Except his lips were so damn chapped. Your boyfriend was extremely dehydrated. Had he even drank any water today? Mithrun had a tendency to forget that water was an essential part of existence. You yanked yourself out of his grip and bolted toward the kitchen to fetch him a glass of water. He narrowed his eyes in confusion but drank it without question. 

Now, he was allowed to distract you. 

Days later, you acquired a coconut. It was on the beach of Melini, just laying there, perfect and usable. Perhaps three swallows carried it over the sea. What was the air-speed-velocity of three swallows carrying a coconut? Whatever. You had your ingredients now. 

You mixed them into a lovely paste. It didn’t smell great, but you tested the chapstick out on yourself. It worked! You knew that Mithrun wouldn’t be offended— offending him was difficult— but your nerves still stood to attention.

This was for your sanity. This was for the good of your relationship. This was for the good of the lips you kissed every day and planned to kiss for the rest of your life. 

That night, you kept the jar of chapstick beside your side of the bed. You laid your head on your pillow and stared at the ceiling, waiting for it. The right moment would arrive in three, two, one—

Mithrun rolled over so he was half on top of you. His hair fell around his face as he looked down at you, palms pressed flatly into the pillow on either side of your head. He shifted his legs so one of his knees was between your legs, pressing lightly against your core.

Stay calm, you reminded yourself. You had a mission. Do not writhe beneath him or show how affected you are, that was precisely what he wanted.

Mithrun didn’t really have any techniques of seduction. He just blinked down at you, thinking. You sent him a smile in return. He would lean in to kiss you in three, two one–

You put up a hand between your faces to stop him. His good eye widened in surprise as his lips made contact with only your palm. You sent him the most innocent smile you could muster. 

“There’s something I want to try tonight,” you said, “sit up.”

Mithrun obeyed. He pushed himself up and away, folding his legs beneath each other criss-cross-applesauce style on his side of the bed. After sending him another smile, one you hoped was reassuring, you leaned down to grab the jar of chapstick. 

He raised a brow, “What is that?”

“A concoction,” you answered simply, “for the hydrating of one's lips.”

Mithrun took the jar, opened the lid, and sniffed the paste. “Smells like butter.”

“Yes, well, it has butter in it.”

“And coconut.”

“Yes, there’s coconut as well, mainly the oil but there’s some coconut meat in there too.”

He glanced up at you, “Why?”

“Because it’ll make things feel better,” you explained, gently taking the jar away from him and dipping your finger into it. Without hesitation, you smeared it across his lips. He closed his eyes and furrowed his brows and jerked away ever so slightly, but allowed it. 

Once you finished, Mithrun opened his eyes. His expression was flat as he stared at you, “Tastes bad.”

“You’re not supposed to eat it!”

“How could I not?”

“You’re hopeless,” but cute. He was hopeless and cute. You set aside the jar and leaned toward him, shifting your body so that you straddled his lap. His hands immediately went to your hips and he tilted his head back to look up at you. There was no reason to wait, no reason to stall. You pressed your mouth against his in a familiar kiss, you’d probably shared thousands of these with him. But this time…

It tasted bad. 

You pulled away and wiped at your mouth, “Okay, yeah, we’re not using that. I’ll find something else.”

Mithrun wiped the chapstick away with the back of his hand, then leaned up to resume the kiss. 

At least his lips were a bit softer than usual. You’d take what you could get. 

[lucky-stick]

🏞️🐾🦴wolf study 🪵🌲🥩

hello creechers im a wolf otherlink (or idk yet rlly) so i've compiled like everything about wolves and i might add to it sometimes but heres the contents:

basic (size, diet, status ect)

species and subspecies

pack anatomy

communication

-vocal, body, facial, scent,

-submissive behaviour

-playing

fandom facts

basic information 🥩

scientific name: canis lupus

lifespan: 13 years (wild)

diet: carnivorous -

size: 80-85cm 30-80kg

conservation status: least concern

species and subspecies 🍖

its a big debate on how many species of wolf there are in the wolf but the 2 main ones are the grey and red wolf then all the subspecies evolved in different way based on their habitat but they all descended from grey and red wolves

subspecies: (38) WIP 🚧

arctic: usually all white with black nose and ears

Eurasian: a brown-red colour

eastern: a darker coloured wolf

northwestern: a grey wolf with more black

northern rocky mountains: more pale fur

Indian: brown-grey

Mexican: browny-black

great plains: light grey

British Columbia: all black

Vancouver sea: light grey on top black on the side

Italian: dark brown

Arabian: dark brown and black

canis lupus dingo: light brown

Iberian: darker not a lot of white

interior alaskan: mostly black with some white

alexander archipelago: all black

tundra: mostly white with a bit of black on top

texas: coyote colours

alaskan tundra: all white

Manitoba: dark grey

labrador: dark grey to mostly white

baffin island: mostly white

Greenland: all white

Mackenzie: white-yellowish

mongolian: light brown light grey

steppe: coyote colours

new guinea singing dog: red-brown

Egyptian: jackal colours (blueish)

tibetan: light brown to whiter

Austro-Hungarian: very dark grey

extinct subspecies

Hokkaido: all grey

Japanese: they are patterned

mogollon mountain:

Florida black: all black

kenai peninsula: dark grey

Newfoundland:

cascade mountain:

gregorys:

sicilian:

canis lupus youngi:

bernards:

pack anatomy 🌲

packs can consist of 6-20 members though the average is thought to be around 10

there is usually 2 main wolves, sometimes known as alphas but that terms outdated, these are usually the main parents and give birth to most of the pack

a litter usually consists of 4-6 pups and they are all born blind and vulnerable and they usually stay in the den and with their mother for about 2 years

older siblings have been known to look after younger siblings if needed

the packs social bond is very strong and have fierce devotion to their pack. they have been known to mourn loss, which is what a lone howl usually is, they have also been seen to sacrifice themselves for their pack

(WIP) 🚧

communication 🦴

vocalisation:

every pack as its own unique howl to distinguish different packs and if they are on someone else's territory

a defensive howl is to keep the pack together and keep predators out of their territory

a social howl is to locate one another

barking, though rare, is used as a warning for example a mother wolf may bark of she senses danger around her pups

whimpering and whining can indicate a "i give up/in"

growling is also used as a warning but for more dominance like protecting their territory

body language and posture:

a wolf interacting with it pack can say lots about the status of the wolf and the pack

less dominant wolves usually crouch to make themselves look more smaller

they also lick the muzzles of more dominant wolves

slinking is another "i give in" and is a more submissive behaviour and is show in fights and disagreements with the pack

dominant wolves usually have a more confident upright posture to show said dominance

they also rest their head on submissive wolves neck or back

facial expressions:

when angry their ears stick upright and they bear their teeth for example when two wolves have a disagreement they will show this and growl

when suspicious they squint their eyes and put their ears back

when in fear they flatten their ears

when they want to play they display the play bow and dance around

as a warning they will curl the end of their lips displaying a bit of teeth

when relaxed their eyes are just on their sides

tail position:

tail tucking is a sign of being in fear and submission

a more dominant tail position is sticking it out and slightly upward

a neutral tail position is wagging

scent marking

they mark their territory with pheromones

these pheromones come out from glands on the toes, tail, eyes, skin and genitalia

they mark territory with urine and scat (i will not be doing this)

they have also been known to mark food

submission:

there are 2 types of submission: active and passive

active submission: is where a wolf shows signs of inferiority like tail tucking, muzzle licking and crouching (pups do this with adults)

passive submission: passive submissions is when a wolf lays on its back or side displaying the stomach or chest which is a vulnerable part of the body because it contains vital organs it is show to more dominant wolves when they get into a disagreement the less dominant one usually gives up and shows passive submission to show the others authority

playing:

they are known to get zoomies like how domestic dogs do

some games they play include: chase, tug of war or jaw sparring

jaw sparring is when two wolves will rear up on their hind legs and use their front paws and jaws

a range of vocals come out when playing this this fortifies bonds and status and shows physical skills

a more casual version of this is then laying down

facts + misconceptions 🌕

they have 42 teeth

they have 4 toes with claws and run on their toes not their pads

despite running on their toes they can run at 16-38 miles per hour

they can swim up to 8 miles

they have 200 million scent cells

they can eat 20 pounds of meat in one meal

they don't howl at the moon that was a myth people thought because of werewolves their howls are actually just more clear at night because there is usually less wind and other sound

alpha, beta, omega ect roles don't actually exist there is just more dominant wolves and less dominant wolves the alpha is usually just the parent but there is a social hierarchy in packs

wolves don't hibernate at all so they can be seen all year around

the biggest pack ever consisted of 400 wolves which was found in the outskirts of the woods in russia (i made a post abt then when i got 400 followers)

wolves have their own unique personality

northern rocky mountain wolves are one of the biggest subspecies

this is my pack so far :3 ✨ idk why im adding this i rlly like wolps at the minute and im going to get more ^^

[short-honey-badger]

Haven't even seen the live action yet but Shanks has a hold of me. Enjoy some braintot! Also! I forgot to add that this was definitely inspired by @meeplaws post I found the other day! Saw it again and wanted to give them that credit!

Ps. I have more in store soon! Hope you like a good Ole fashioned Daddy kink!

Warnings!: Breeding Kink. Gaslighting. Shanks isn't very nice in this. Dark!Shanks. Possessive behavior still fluffy and plenty of smut.

Previously Wait No More

Masterlist

No One But You

Shanks rolled his eyes when you continued to ignore his welcoming call from his place at the bar. He'd found you once again on a small chain of islands outside of the Sabaody Archipelago after you had run away from his proposal to come with him and join his crew again on the last island he had made port at. But Shanks had found you, just like he always did.  

The Yonko smiles when he recalls how the two of you met. Shanks had saved you from some sleazy old man trying to buy you a drink on some island he had forgotten the name of some six years after losing his arm to save Luffy. Shanks couldn't put into words why you had caught his attention and held it. Maybe it was the way you dismissed him whenever he found you again. No one said no to Red Haired Shanks after all. No one but you.

You pretend that you haven't heard the redhead call your name and continue on your way back to the hotel that you'd rented for the night. However, you don't get very far before a familiar oppressive presence appears by your side. He wrapped his arm around your waist and swung into your field of view to give you a drunken grin, "Told you that I would find you, Sugar," he purred in greeting.

You sigh and attempt to shrug him off, but the Yonko just tugs you closer, "Don't know what you're talking about, Shanks," you quip. You are aware of how attractive this man is, but you also know that nothing between the two of you could ever end well. There was already a target on your back since he could never leave you alone.

Shanks scoffs and moves your hair away from your neck with his nose so that he can leave a trail of kisses along the sensitive flesh, "Don't play dumb, Mama," he murmurs and sucked an easy hickey on the side of your neck while his hand dropped down to squeeze your ass, "I know you're a lot smarter than that."

You wince at the harsh treatment and try to pull away again, but the pirate captain just tightens his grip on your hip and turns you so that you can see his face and the mean grin full of teeth and dark promises he saves just for you, "Not this time, Sugar. I'm not letting you go this time."

Panic floods your system, and this time you start to struggle against the Yonko, but it all is just a useless endeavor to fight someone as strong as Shanks. You are captured with nowhere else to run, and you can already see the freedom you have slipping away like grains of sand through your fingers. 

The Yonko scoffs again and then turns the two of you around to lead the way back to the Red Force and then inside the captain's cabin. He didn't want to be disturbed by anyone, nor could he have you trying to run away again.

Inside the cabin, Shanks takes your right hand and presses kisses to each of your knuckles and then does the same to your other hand. You are taken aback but his sweet behavior and wonder if you could have been wrong about the redhead, "I've wanted you for a long time, but you know that already, huh," Shanks says your name like a sin and a shiver runs up your spine at the breathy sound. 

The Yonko pushes you into his bed and admires the way you look all spayed out on his sheets. He climbs over you, lean frame settling on your hips and Shanks grins down at you, "Gosh, You're so beautiful, Doll," he murmurs and reaches forward to brush your hair away from your flushed face, "And now I don't have to wait anymore."

You cover your face with the crook of your elbow to hide your embarrassment. You don't want to watch anything of what happens next. Shanks laughs at you but shrugs. He was confident that you would like everything that he wanted to do to you. 

He shimmies down until he sits on the bed between your legs and then hooks his fingers under the hem of your shirt. It's tossed to the floor and Shanks admires your exposed tits, "No bra? You dirty girl, " Shanks teases and then pinches your erect nipple. Your leggings and underwear are next, the pirate ripping the fabric in his haste to get them off you. You lay bare under one of the most dangerous men in the Grand Line and shiver at the power that rolls off him in waves.   

You bite your lip to suppress any noise you might make. You refused to give Shanks any kind of satisfaction... which would prove to be your undoing.

With ease, Shanks flips the two of you and manhandles your legs so that they sit on either side of his face and then leans in to press kisses and bites to the inside of your thighs, "Ah, this is a much better view," he purrs and you stare down at him with wide eyes. He grins at your shocked expression and then proceeds to flatten his tongue and lick a stripe over your entire cunt. 

"Sh-Shanks!" You shout a bow forward, hands landing on the fluffy pillows that support his head.

"Yeah, Sugar?" Shanks asks innocently and cocks his head like he was confused why you had interrupted him, "Something the matter?" 

Before you can even think to answer, the stupid man dives right back in, tongue wiggling to stroke over each fold and crease with a hum of satisfaction. He ignores your clit for now, wanting you to wait for the best part just like you made him do for six years. You get wet fast, and Shanks realizes that he could spend eternity between your legs, pussy drunk for the rest of his life. 

"Gosh," Shanks breaths when he finally comes up for air, "You taste better than I could ever imagine, Mama," then he is right back down, groaning almost louder than you are as he focuses on how much you leak for him. 

Shanks eats you out like a man on a mission, sighs, and moans leaving him as he laps at your core, sucking and pulling at your lower lips to the point his entire lower face is drenched in your slick. You are overwhelmed by his attention, mouth open in a silent moan as you clutch at the pillows and his red hair for dear life. His hand tucks under his ass and lifts you with ease. Shanks fucks in and out of your hole with his tongue, lowering you and helping you spear yourself on his tongue. 

The Yonko doesn't stop until he can feel your thighs shaking around his face, and he slowly lowers you until you rest on his chest. His lips come away from your pussy with an obscene slurp then he is wrapping them around your clit. His tongue curls around the swollen nub and suckles gently and your hand clinches so hard in his hair he knows that you came away with some of his red hair.

Shanks suddenly pulls away with a lewd pop, resting his face on your thigh and staring up at you with a blissed-out expression. His dark eyes shine with his feelings for you, and you can't sort through the mass of emotions that swirl in his depths. You wouldn't call what the captain feels for your love, but you could see affection there, but the man just seemed satisfied, as if was truly happy to have finally gotten his way after so long. He grins and kisses your thigh, "You should see yourself, Babygirl," Shanks coos and then makes a show of licking his lips clean. 

"F-fuck you, Shanks," You hiss through your teeth and do your best to avoid his taunting gaze and satisfied gaze. 

Shanks laughs, "That's the plan, Doll," he says and then delves right back in to eat you out to his heart's content. He loves the taste of you on his tongue and the way your thighs keep clinching around his face. He doesn't stop until you are quivering above him, legs quaking and arms shaking from holding yourself up for so long. Your pussy aches from his nonstop attention, but Shanks still hasn't let you come. 

"Sh-Shanks, please," You whine softly, breaking the silence of the room. You bring yourself to look down at him and damn him if he doesn't have that innocent look plastered all over his face again. How can he look like that after spending god knows how long between your legs? 

"Yeah?" The pirate draws it out, tone all childlike as he grins up at you with delight shining in his dark eyes, "Please, what?"

You sigh through your know harshly and glare down at him. Any embarrassment you had previously disappears in your rising frustration, "Make me come!" You nearly shout at him. Your face burns and your chest heaves as you stare down at Shanks. 

"Can do, Mama," Shanks purrs and then he was flipping you again. Your hips are propped up by a mountain of pillows and Shanks settles back between your thighs. He balances on his knees and leans forward to suck your clit into his mouth, hand inching forward and two fingers stroke your soaked hole. A groan leaves his throat when he presses in, and Shanks marvels at how tight you are. 

He begins a steady rhythm and a mean laugh erupts from his chest when the Yonko glances at your face to see that you are watching the way his fingers disappear in and out of your cunt. His hand glistens with your cream and the room echos with lewd sounds that come straight from your pussy. The more Shanks watches, the more he begins to wonder. 

Shanks suddenly leans up and into your face, "How many other people have seen this pretty pussy?" He asks and you can hear the displeasure in his voice. You try and cover your face but you can't with how close Shanks is to you. You recognize the intimidation tactic, but it still works and you quickly stop. His hand has slowed to a stop and you look up to see him frowning down at you, "Be honest, or I'll stop."

You doubt he would ever stop now that he has you, but you know better than to not answer him, "Two others," you say so softly that Shanks almost misses what you say. Rage thrums in his chest at your admission. How could you? You knew how much Shanks wanted you, see how he chased after you whenever you ran away from him. He's protected you from some sleazeball more than once before they could even become a problem, and this is how you repay him? 

The Yonko breaths deep and then starts up the pace he'd had just a second ago, "What are their names? When did it happen?" He asks and keeps his voice casual even though he knows that his haki has slipped, making the cabin feel oppressive. 

"I ah-haa don't remember," You lie, and the second those words leave your lips, you realize your mistake. You should have never even thought of trying to lie to this man. 

Shanks rips his hand from your cunt and your jaw is being snatched, held tight between calloused fingers as he forces you to stare up at him, "Think real careful about lying to me again, Babygirl," He rumbles and his tone is dark and furious. You can feel the jealousy dripping off Shanks at just the thought of you sleeping with other men. Despite your feelings for the redhead, you can't help but feel a little flattered. Your face is squeezed and you are reminded that Shanks still wants an answer. 

"Edward was the first, two years after we met," You breathe when he relaxes his hand on your jaw. His fingers find your core again and he sits back far enough so that he can watch the way your pussy sucks his fingers right back in like they belonged there. He rewards your honesty with a particularly hard thrust of his hand and grins cruelly when you gasp sharply. He wants so badly to just sink his cock into your tight heat, but he needs to see this through. Needs to make sure you know who you belong to. 

Shanks nods once so you swallow thickly and continue, "Navine was eight months ago," your tone is thick and guilty and you wonder when Shanks had started to make you feel bad for him. Maybe it was the way he looked at you. Even now, as you spill your sex life to him, Shanks looks at you as if you had hung the moon and stars in the sky. But behind that, you can see hurt there, betrayal even, and it makes your chest tighten in unpleasant emotions.

"All those years," Shanks speaks and he is monotone at first, but anger and hurt begin to leak out and you tremble in the face of it, "You could have been sailing with Me, but instead you wanted to be out there, spreading your legs like some common whore."

Shock courses up your spine and tears spring to your eyes immediately. Never had the Yonko spoken a harsh word to you in all your time knowing him, but it still surprised you with how much it hurt. You are crying like a baby before you know it and you bite your lip and clinch your eyes as that would be enough to stop the hurt from consuming you. 

"I was good, ya know?" Shanks continues and his pace becomes rough. He couldn't let you just forget about this. He wanted you to feel the way he felt, "I didn't touch another woman the entire time, but you? Shanks lets out a dismissive laugh, "You couldn't keep your legs shut."

A sob breaks through whatever defense you had left and you reach for him, hands clutching at his back and shoulders as you whine and cry. He was right. How could you have not seen the way the Yonko cared for you? 

"I-I'm sorry, Shanks," You whine low and it sounds pitiful and like music to the Yonko's ears. He leans into your touch and soaks in the way you clutch at him. You feel awful for throwing his obviously real feelings in his face time after time. For sleeping with other men instead of Shanks, the one who had chased you all the way from the East Blue, "I'm yours, Shanks. I won't run again."

And just like that, the man you have always known is suddenly there. He lights up in childlike delight, smile beaming and he leans down to press the sweetest kiss you've ever reviewed to your lips. His fingers curl and brush against that sweet spot hidden deep within you, and you groan, mouth opening just enough for the Yonko to shove his tongue into your mouth. You kiss him back, sucking gently on his tongue as you grind down on his hand. 

Shanks breaks the kiss, though he doesn't go very far, "Oh, Sugar," he coos and kisses your tear-streaked face, "Say that again for me, won't you?" 

You nod easily, "Yours, Shanks. No one else's," You murmur and you don't see his victorious grin that lights up his face., "I'll join your crew." 

Fuck! That he had not expected, but like hell would he complain. He slips his hand out from between your legs then grabs your face and crashes his lips into yours with a low whine of his own. He shoves his tongue deep, sliding over your teeth and flexing against your own so much that saliva wells up and spills over, turning the kiss into a wet mess. 

He releases your jaw to grab his pants and shove them down far enough that his cock springs out. He shuffles forward and nudges the head against your soaked lips. Shanks takes his time, sliding his dick through your lips and making sure his length is coated in your slick. Once he deems himself slicked up enough, Shanks lines up and sinks himself balls deep in one harsh thrust. 

You yell his name, mouth dropping open as Shanks takes everything and more that you are willing to give him. He is loud, grunts and moans spilling out of his throat as he loses himself. You are perfect, so tight and warm around his cock that he never wanted to leave. Shanks ruts deeply, grabbing your leg to lift it over his hip so that he can sink impossibly deeper. Your cunt flutters around him and he slides his hand up over your leg and hip to your stomach where he begins to gently press down. The extra pressure has you throwing your head back in a sigh and Shanks grins meanly down at you. 

"Feel that, Mama?" He pants out and presses down harder so that he can really feel the way he moves inside you, "Better get used to it, 'cause I'll never have enough of this sweet pussy." 

His pace suddenly becomes brutal and you are reminded that Shanks had not had sex with another woman the entire time he'd chased you. You clinch around him at the thought and then pull him down so that you can press kisses to wherever you can reach. You had a lot to make up for, and you wanted to let him know that you were up to that challenge.

Shanks shifts again to get a better hold of your hip and he fucks into you with reckless abandon and you are so so close, you just need a little bit more, and then you would be there.

The Yonko must be able to sense your thoughts, for his hand finds your clit and his thumb begins a fast pace. You don't last long, especially with the way Shanks leans down and whispers, "That's it babygirl," he angles his hips and strikes that spot again and you see stars, "Come all over my cock." 

And come you do, with a cry of his name, you clench around his cock and gush around him, staining your thighs and the sheets below. Shanks ruts into you, chasing his own release with your warm body that still clings to him. He wraps his arm around your waist, holding you tightly as he finally comes with a whine of your name. 

Shanks pumps you full, the man so pent up from waiting that he has an obscene amount of his come leak out of your fucked out hole. You sigh at the feeling of it sliding down your thighs, but Shanks is shaking his head, "Uh-uh, Mama," He coos and your eyes widen when he pulls his cock out. He scoops up his spend and then proceeds to shove it back into your fluttering hole, "We can't be wasteful." 

He doesn't stop until he's stuffed as much of his cum back into your cunt as possible and then his fingers stay there, massaging your gummy walls until another orgasm rises up and shudders through your body, "Look at that, so proud of you, Sugar," He coos down at you and you don't know how to feel about the way his praise makes you feel giddy inside. 

A yawn breaks you out of thinking about your complicated feelings, and Shanks begins to move you off the mountain of pillows and into a more comfortable position. He shucks his clothes off and doesn't worry about cleaning up. He wraps his arm over your waist and snuggles up to your back, a grin on his face at getting to be the big spoon. He kisses the back of your neck, "Get some rest, Babygirl," he whispers and your tired body is already half asleep so you don't feel the way his cock hardens against your back, "We are far from done."

[steveyockey]

I paid $5 to access séamus malekafzali’s latest substack on palestine, here’s the full text,

It is easy to be lulled into a state of complacency, even with military occupation.

Israel’s occupation of Palestine has gone on longer than many of us on Earth have been alive, now going on 75 years. The levels of that deplacement, blockading, and violence have ebbed and flowed over years and decades, but that hand around the neck has always remained, even if how much it constricts has a tendency to loosen and tighten. Over 200 Palestinians have been killed by Israel this year in its occupation. News bulletins of them dying, oftentimes teenagers, come up through the headlines of Palestinian newspapers and channels as often as the weather. These deaths at the hands of Israeli security personnel are not isolated incidents, with soldiers materializing on roadsides and at checkpoints as unfortunate coincidence. They are constant spikes in the waveform of an incessant low-grade hum of humiliation, imprisonment, and destruction that has made daily life a forced agreement to constantly exist on the precipice of death.

This framing is not meant to be a tired retread of the conflict between Israel and Palestine or the nature of the Israeli occupation. This is meant to be a bulwark against the inevitable framing of this latest battle unfolding around Gaza, as it will appear in the Western media in the days to come.

There is a tendency, a deep-set one, to report Israel and Palestine as two countries that are on roughly the same playing field internationally, as you might report on a war that might involve Israel battling against a place like Jordan or Egypt. This kind of coverage obscures how deeply interlocked Israel’s military operations are with the fabric of the Palestinian society.

In the West Bank, settlements and checkpoints have made Palestinian land into a kind of comical archipelago, where in addition to being separated from Gaza by a huge land border, they are also separated from traveling to communities only a stone’s throw away from them without going through significant anguish. In Gaza, while no Israeli soldiers walk the streets, all their land borders are essentially sealed, their ports almost completely blockaded. Israel’s continued occupation has been so pinpoint and precise that its planes have gone as far as bombing bookstores, and its restrictions did not let up even when the COVID-19 pandemic reduced one health organization to carrying only as many tests of the deadly disease as could fit in a car.

This is not a matter of moral justification; one does not need to constantly busy themselves with having to make a full ideological conversion before understanding this. This is a matter of cause and effect.

What is the logical expectation, regardless of politics, ideology, culture, and creed, when a population of people is thrust into conditions that can only be described as an open-air prison, where every individual is a criminal in the eyes of the military occupying power regardless if they pick up a rifle or not, because there is supposedly always the threat that they will one day?

These are the basic conditions that have preceded the initiation of Operation al-Aqsa Storm this morning. As dawn broke on the morning of October 7, only one day after the 50th anniversary of the Yom Kippur War, Hamas’ military wing, the al-Qassam Brigades, launched a military operation of unprecedented scope in its history. Hamas fighters would not only attempt to enter Israeli territory proper with ground troops, already in of itself an intensely bold action (though not without precedent in the past decade). This operation would be a combined incursion into Israel by both land, sea, and even air. Ground forces would cut the border fence into settlements surrounding Gaza, speedboats would make landings in southern Israel, and fighters from a newly-inaugurated paraglider division would fly over the border fortifications and then further inland.

Threats of an invasion of Israeli territory proper have been a staple of speeches from Hamas and Hezbollah and groups like it for years. There was a long-standing perception by outside observers that it was fanciful. An intentionally lofty piece of propaganda that fires up supporters while the real military wheeling and dealing is done under far more subtle and controlled terms, as with most militant organizations. After all, no Israeli-administered town, the ones occupied in Palestine during the initial 1948 war, had ever been taken in any war against the Jewish state since its creation, even by a combined force of multiple Arab national militaries.

That notion now can no longer exist.

At sunrise, Hamas fired a gigantic barrage of rockets into Israeli territory, a staggering 5,000 in the first wave alone. As Israeli military and police forces were distracted by fires and rocket destruction in residential areas of the country, Palestinian forces in Gaza proceeded to make their primary move.

After the sun rose, Hamas cut through the border fence surrounding Israel and sent both fighters on foot and on motorcycles into Israel. Images released by the group seem to tell a story in frozen figures. Israeli soldiers, strewn dead, caught by surprise, one having even rushed out so quickly that he put on his military gear but no other clothes except his underwear. An even grimmer story could be found in one of the IDF military dormitories, where an entire room full of soldiers had been massacred, only having perhaps seconds earlier gotten the alarm that Hamas had breached the perimeter, many of them seemingly mid-way through getting out of bed.

From there, Hamas made unprecedented move after unprecedented move. Hamas fighters moved as far north into Zikim, built on the former Palestinian village of Hiribya, and moved as far east as Ofakim, built on the former hamlet of Khirbat Futais. The Erez Crossing, for years the only legal border crossing that Israel operated with the Gaza Strip, came under full Palestinian control. Sderot, a city where Israelis had once gathered on couches dragged to high peaks to watch the bombardment of Palestinians, now found themselves facing down Palestinian fighters in their own streets.

An additional shock would come in Israel’s initial response. Amidst cataclysmic scenes like hundreds of ravers in the desert near Gaza fleeing on foot, neither the Israeli president nor the prime minister spoke in those early hours in the morning.

The Israeli high command, despite the continuous insistence of Palestinian factions that they would one day attempt to take the fight into Israel itself, had become complacent. They, like many observers of Israel-Palestine, believed the occupation they had constructed could go on forever, unburdened by the need to adapt. Israeli soldiers after all were now more used to sniping reporters and unarmed protesters than engaging in military conflict. Entropy was what was propelling the military occupation complex of the Jewish state, not a wholly active effort.

Despite an ungodly amount of Western military equipment, highly advanced anti-aircraft systems programmed to shoot down thousands of rockets, an international reputation for tenacity and strategic knowhow, and multiple victories against Arab nations again and again and again, all of it ended up being useless against a Hamas fighter flying in on a box fan and a parachute.

This failure is two-fold, and both are closely related. One is the expectation that things could go on as before without addressing the root of the issue (that being a military occupation of an entire state), and the other in expectation that those being occupied had no capacity to learn from experience how Israel’s military strategy operates, people who could then going on to capitalize on that knowledge.

There is a fundamental flaw in the perception of Western powers toward the Middle East in general and Arabs in particular that because the groups fighting with Israel or the United States are irregular, bereft of highly professional uniforms and dedicated gigantic military headquarters, that they do not have the same ability to strategize and to confront the forces that are occupying their countries. Flashes of how faulty this thinking is rear their head again and again, from Iraq to Afghanistan and everywhere in-between and around, but still the idea, unspoken as it may be, remains that they are fundamentally unequipped compared to the might they are fighting against. But Hamas has military strategists of its own, ones that understand the asymmetric situation they are dealing with, and ones that understand what the actual capabilities of Israel are, versus what their perception is.

The perception of Israel’s invulnerability versus what has actually been displayed today could not have been more different. Instead of being forced to immediately pull back, in essence making today a raid, Hamas has instead actually contested several Israeli settlements, which are still being fought over at time of this writing many hours after the initial incursion from Gaza began. A single Israeli soldier captured and held in Gaza used to capture the Israeli imagination for years; now there are believed to be not only tens of soldiers captured by Hamas, but tens of Israeli civilians as well, all now being held within the Strip. Hamas has also brought Israeli military vehicles back into the Strip, the novelty of working IDF equipment now under Palestinian control a source of celebration within the territory. Over 100 Israelis are believed to have been killed in the first day of Hamas’ attack, and nearly 1000 injured, a shocking early casualty count in an ongoing conflict where casualties on the Palestinians’ side are usually far more lopsided.

Israel’s response so far to Hamas’ operation has been to escalate rhetorically, with Netanyahu now calling this a war, and escalating its usual military strategy with Gaza, with carpet bombing now on an intense, concentrated scale. At the time of this writing, almost 200 Palestinians have been killed in Gaza in only a few hours, with that number expected to rise significantly in the days to come. Already, news has come in of Israeli planes having leveled Gaza’s second-largest building, the Palestine Tower, which housed a plethora of media offices, in scenes reminiscent of Israel’s bombing of another tower block of media offices in 2021 that infamously took out the local bureau of the Associated Press.

As fighting continues into the night in ways never seen before since 1948, the question remains: after all these decades, why now?

The ostensible justifications of what the clincher was that sparked this operation are innumerable, but two appear to be most clearly illuminated: the recent increased activity of far-right Zionists at the al-Aqsa Mosque in occupied East Jerusalem (hence the name of the operation itself), but just as well the indications that the Saudi Arabia and Israel may be close to a normalization deal, which would be the largest such development in the Abraham Accords yet. Hezbollah mentioned this operation as being a “message” and a “decisive response” to Arab nations pursuing the idea of normalization with Israel. Still, it is important to recognize that pinning the undertaking of a completely gigantic operation of this scale as just a simple message to Saudi Arabia would be reductive. As the Los Angeles Times’ international correspondent Nabih Bulos says of the matter:

“To pretend that Hamas did this to be a spoiler of KSA-Israel normalization is just downright epic in its navel-gazing nonsense.”

What is important to always return to is that eternally governing line above everything: the low hum of constant occupation, and who has been causing its spikes. Israel’s government, its most far-right in its history, has been on the warpath almost immediately from its inauguration, with figures like Itamar Ben-Gvir and Bezalel Smotrich, now thrust to the forefront, doing everything large and small to provoke a Palestinian response. The hope is that the inevitable Palestinian response can mobilize the Israeli society, that it can be swiftly defeated by the Israeli military, and that the Israeli state can use such an opportunity to impose its sovereignty over what little of Palestine governed by Palestinians remains, and perhaps even what lies beyond it.

But that formula relies on the Palestinian side only accepting being provoked, themselves having no strategy of their own outside of firing rockets and yelling on television. Military occupation breeds a feeling of annihilation, but that annihilation is enclosed with it inevitable feelings of rabid and desperate hope, inspiring within irregular groups desires to try things never tried before. These are not always guaranteed to be successful: one may look at Aleppo when rebel groups managed to come together and break the siege on the city in the final stages of the battle, only for it to fall in the months to come anyway. Nevertheless, there is a real perception within Israel, communicated out to the world by its media and by its intelligentsia, that it is a nation on the verge of internal collapse, brought to the precipice by far-right forces it has let fester for decades without envisioning its eventual conclusion.

What does looking at how Israel is faring now communicate to Palestinian factions in Gaza? What do young people in Gaza, who make up 47% of the Strip’s population, imagine might lie ahead for them as they see these events unfold? What does a Hamas fighter imagine might be possible when, as the writer Josef Burton says, he exits a 25 by 7-mile space he’s never left in his entire life?

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Word List: Animals

for your next poem/story

Aardwolf - a maned striped nocturnal mammal (Proteles cristatus) of southern and eastern Africa that resembles the related hyenas and feeds chiefly on insects and especially termites

Bittern - any of various small or medium-sized, short-necked, usually secretive herons

Chevrotain - (also called mouse deer) any of several very small hornless deerlike ruminant mammals of tropical Asia, the Malay archipelago, and West Africa superficially resembling the musk deer, the male having short tusks, and being among the smallest known ruminants, standing only about a foot high

Douroucouli - (also called owl monkey) any of several small nocturnal monkeys (genus Aotus) of Central and South American tropical forests that have round heads, large eyes, and densely furred bodies

Eland - either of two large African antelopes (Taurotragus oryx and Taurotragus derbianus) bovine in form with short spirally twisted horns in both sexes

Falconet - any of several very small falcons

Gemsbok - a large and strikingly marked oryx (Oryx gazella) formerly abundant in southern Africa

Hoatzin - a crested large South American bird (Opisthocomos hoazin) with blue facial skin, red eyes, brown plumage marked with white above, and claws on the first and second digits of the wing when young

Ichneumon - a mongoose (Herpestes ichneumon) of Africa, southern Europe, and southwestern Asia

Jacana - any of a family (Jacanidae) of long-legged and long-toed tropical wading birds that frequent coastal freshwater marshes and ponds

Klipspringer - a small antelope (Oreotragus oreotragus) that is somewhat like the chamois in habits and is found from Cape Colony to Somaliland

Lammergeier - a large Old World vulture (Gypaetus barbatus) that occurs in mountainous regions, has long black bristles at the base of the bill, and in flight resembles a very large falcon; bearded vulture

Muntjac - any of a genus (Muntiacus) of small deer of southeastern Asia with an alarm call similar to the bark of a dog and having in the male elongated, downward-pointing upper canine teeth which protrude from the lip and short, usually unbranched, pointed antlers; barking deer

Nightjar - any of a family (Caprimulgidae) of medium-sized long-winged crepuscular or nocturnal birds (such as the whip-poor-wills and nighthawks) having a short bill, short legs, and soft mottled plumage and feeding on insects which they catch on the wing

Ouzel - blackbird

Palfrey - archaic: a saddle horse other than a warhorse; especially: a lady's light easy-gaited horse

Quetzal - a Central American trogon (Pharomachrus mocinno) that has brilliant green plumage above, a red breast, and in the male long upper tail coverts

Rosella - an Australian parakeet (Platycercus eximius) often kept as a cage bird having the head and back of the neck scarlet and the cheeks white, the back dark green varied with lighter green, and the breast red and yellow

Springhare - jumping hare i.e., a sciuromorph rodent (Pedetes cafer) of southern and eastern Africa that resembles a kangaroo in form, that is about two feet long, and that is tawny brown in color and of nocturnal and social habits

Thylacine - Tasmanian tiger i.e., a somewhat doglike carnivorous marsupial (Thylacinus cynocephalus) that formerly inhabited Tasmania but is now considered extinct

Uintatherium - a genus (the type of the family Uintatheriidae) of large herbivorous ungulate mammals of the order Dinocerata from the Eocene of Wyoming resembling elephants in size and in the conformation of their limbs and having three pairs of bony protuberances respectively on the parietal, maxillary, and nasal bones of the skill, a pair of canine tusks guarded by downwardly directed processes of the lower jaw but no upper incisors, and a proportionately very small brain

Vaquita - a small, highly endangered porpoise (Phocoena sinus) of the Gulf of California having a dark ring around the eyes and reaching only four to five feet (1.2 to 1.5 meters) in length

Whitecoat - a very young hair seal and especially a harp seal

Xiphias - a genus (the type of the family Xiphiidae) of large scombroid fishes comprising the common swordfish

Zho - (also called dzo) a hybrid between the yak and the domestic cow

More: Word Lists

[ooffmlsorry]

Law Bends the Rules for You

A/N: This is my first time writing "Law x reader" or "x reader" in general. Takes place before Dressrosa. Oh! and have fun reading!

To a planner like Law, you had an invaluable devil fruit: the spy-spy fruit. The ability to touch any item and know everything about it instantly.

Moments ago, you had taken off one of your gloves and touched his hat. You were able to tell him what kind of animal it was made out of, who made it, from what store it came from, that it belonged to him and how long he'd had it. You were even able to tell him when he had modified the brim.

"If the item has been around a person long enough, I can even tell a little bit about them," you said, casually, even though your heart was pounding. Law could probably see the pulse throbbing in your neck. You came across pirates all the time but none from the Worst Generation. He was taller than you expected, handsomer, and more composed than his exploits at Sabaody Archipelago two years ago would've let on.

"I know this hat has been through a lot." You chose your next words carefully, "and it's owner has too."

Laws golden eyes flashed for a moment.

Something about that caused a flutter from your heart to your stomach. The wanted poster truly didn't do him justice.

"I-I'll help you. I'll join your crew," you stuttered. "Under two conditions."

Law smirked roguishly and raised an eyebrow. He remembered you saying you wouldn't make for a good pirate but from where Law was sitting he could see the makings of one already. Making a deal with him was bold.

"What makes you think I'll agree?" He rested his hand lazily on Kikoku, a wordless threat. His eyes drifted over your body back up to your face. "Or I could just make you, you don't look all that strong."

As much as that shouldn't have been hot it was, and that was almost as concerning as the implied threat in his words.

You rolled your eyes and looked away from him to hide the heat creeping up your face. "Why don't hear them before you say no," you snap.

Law scoffed, but his hand left Kikoku. He leaned his elbows on his thighs and laced his fingers together, ready to listen to you. "Out with it then, [Name]."

"Please don't make me wear one of those suits the rest of your crew has on," you said.

It was almost enough to make you burst out laughing the way Law's hands dropped as well as his jaw, eyes wide in a mix of shock and disturbance. You managed to stifle it just enough to continue. "I'll wear the insignia, make my own clothes if I have to, but I've spent enough time looking how someone else wanted me." You left it at that.

Law composed himself. Was it just your imagination or was he embarrassed you managed to catch him off guard. He cleared his throat and looked away from you. "Ridiculous, but fine," he said. "Is you're second just as stupid?"

You grinned. "Yeah," you said and carried on in the same breath without giving him time to interrupt. "You have to let me bring my cat!"

Law had no clue by agreeing to your conditions he was doomed to repeating himself on why Y/N got to wear whatever she wanted. Most of the time his answer included: "Because I said so" in true tired grump fashion.

A/N: welp, that's it. Hope you liked my first foray into writing "x reader." I guess stay tuned for more? Idk? I hope you have a good day <3

Part 2

[anon-e-miss]

Errant Blessings - 5

As he had the first time he carried Prowl down the mountain, Jazz pampered Prowl after his long labour egg-laying. His pelvic girdle throbbed and Prowl was sure that somehow his hips were broader now thant they had been before he had started laying the dozens of eggs. He still did not know how many there were. Some might yet not survive their final incubation in the lagoon. Prowl would have liked to have just some idea at all, but he had quickly lost count, only managing to keep count for the first joor and Jazz had been focusing on his, trusting in the Perpetuo crystal for what came after. Dozens of couples on the highland hoped for a bitlet, Prowl hoped that enough of the eggs had carried would unfurl to satisfy the longings of at least a third of them.

Even after his forge... forges reset, Prowl did not dawn his old armour. The sentio-metallico of his belly was loose and wrinkly. It would be longer still before it shrank back and even when it did, it would never been the same as it was. Prowl could not be the same as he was after twenty stellar-cycles incubating eggs he did not ask for. He did not know yet what he wanted to do. Would he just, tuck whatever loose plating remained into his armour and then go back on his enforcer beat? What else was there? Though he had fulfilled the crystal’s whims, its marks still covered Prowl’s frame. How could he explain them? How could he explained the fact he had two valves and a saggy belly? His wells too were enormous, and seemed the have grown since he had laid the clutches, although that could have been an illusion.

Prowl walked under his own power, wearing a the same cut of armour as Punch and dozens of strands of crystals. They were on his arms, around his ankles, around his neck and atop his helm. They were gifts from the villagers, the hopeful families of the crystals eggs that Prowl had incubated. Though he might have covered his loose belly with a higher cut girdle, Jazz had suggested that it was a mark of honour for Staniz. For them, there was no shame in what all had happened, for Prowl it was different. His wells ached, like his frame thought he had carries a normal carrying and should be nursing the resulting bitlet. It was too uncomfortable to wear a chestplate. He looked about the mechanisms climbing the mountain and found many of them were in a similar state. Did the Perpetuo crystal really have such power here?

“What the Pit?” Someone exclaimed and pointed. A loud gasp came up. Prowl jerked as he saw Chromedome’s corpse, skewered like an insecticon against the rock by dozens of crystals.

“He must o’ come for an egg,” Punch guessed. “‘N the Perpetuo crystal punished ‘m accordingly.”

“What is the Perpetuo crystal?” Prowl asked. “Why not just... do as it did with me?”

“He wasn’t worthy to be a vessel o’ the crystal’s blessin’,” Punch replied. “The Perpetuo crystal is the spark o’ an ancient titan that fell here ‘n became the island o’ our archipelago.”

“Someone take care o’ that,” Jazz ordered. “Probably gonna have to answer to the mainland.”

“We’ll deal,” Punch replied.

Everyone sat in the field of flowers that surrounded the lagoon. Prowl sat with Jazz and Punch near the edge of the lagoon. The first newling appeared and clamoured at the edge of the bank. Punch cooed at it and set it down on the ground. Immediately, it crawled to one of the waiting couples, like it knew exactly who it was meant for. Everyone cheered prayers of thanks to the crystal and its vessel. Another newling appeared. They were not as immature as a newling emerged in a conventional carrying. They were mobile. Dozens crawled from the lagoon, Prowl realized with some shock that there had been one each for every hopeful family, single or coupled. It shocked him how many eggs he had carried for twenty stellar-cycles. As the crowd wept with joy and gratitude, a pair of newlings pulled themselves up from the pool and the made a b-line for Prowl.

“I don’t understand,” Prowl said. Imperiously, one climbed into his lap, dragging the other along. They rooted through the crystals he wore of his wells and then latched onto his nozzles.

“They’re for ya,” Punch said. “Split-sparks... I think. But how?”

“The last egg was big ‘nough to’ve held twins,” Jazz replied. “Prowl said they’d be trouble.”

Prowl did not ask again what he was meant to do. He cared for the bitlets the crystal had bestowed him... him and Jazz. They were mischievous, loud and lively. Punch delighted in his grandbitties. Jazz was a brilliant progenitor. Raising their family was the blessing Prowl had not known he needed. With every sparkling on the island the same age, there was no end of playmates for them to play with. They had an additional playmate when Jazz kindled Prowl in the conventional manner. Red Alert had a glitch, as Prowl did but they loved him as well as they did Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. He was happy. They were happy. Their mechlings were growing, healthy and happy, along with the other sparklings from their clutch. The island prospered and Prowl was content. Then, the tattoos glowed and Prowl knew what it meant.

“The Perpetuo crystal calls for me,” Prowl told Jazz. “It had eggs ready.”

“What do ya want to do?” Jazz asked.

“I cannot leave without risking its wrath,” Prowl replied. “Go with me? Perhaps it won’t be so terrifying this time.”

Jazz took his aft as the crystal poured nectar down his throat, beginning the long mega-cycles of debauchery. His conjunx held his legs open as Prowl was impaled on his spike, and the crystals fragged him with three or four tentacles at a time. There was no need to reformat his frame but the crystal took its time with him all the same. Prowl wailed with pleasure as the crystal prepared him to be its vessel again. He watched as Jazz held him open for it, as the ovipositor tentacle writhed towards him. He gasped as Jazz spread the folds of his upper valve wide and the tentacle plunged in. Before, the crystal had filled first one forge and then the next with eggs but Jazz held Prowl’s lower valve open even as the crystal was pumping eggs into his upper for. Prowl writhed as his belly quickly bulged with the crystal’s eggs. He was in its grasps, dangling in the air as Jazz rubbed his anterior node, ensuring his never stopped overloading as he was filled with eggs.

“Ori mentioned families from the other islands’ve come callin’,” Jazz told him as he laid on the ground, spent. “I think ya got a hundred ‘least incubatin’ in yer sweet belly this time.”

“Oh Primus,” Prowl moaned.

It was a cycle. Every ten vorns the crystal called him and Jazz held him open on its altar as it filled his belly with more eggs. With every clutch, the crystal added to his family. When an enforcer came from Praxus asking after a cold case, Prowl did what he could to help. Barricade did not return to Praxus as the Perpetuo crystal chose him to be another Spark of Staniz. Jazz twin tended to him and in the end, the crystal gave them a bitlet of their own to raise. Prowl had thought this might mean his time as the Spark of Staniz was over but his tattoos glowed ten vorns after the last time and he laughed at himself. Polyhex was being quickly repopulated thanks to the wombs of two Praxians. When another enforcer came to discuss an old case with Prowl, he had wondered if the crystal would have similar designs on him. Nightbeat came down the mountain, a couple dozen eggs sitting heavy in his belly and Prowl thought perhaps Praxus should put a travel alert on the island.

[chieri-rose-under-blog]

“And Then, Our Paths Crossed”

(Part 2: Tell Me)

Summary: A fateful meeting at Saboady two years ago leads to a love affair with no promising future, but pirates live in the moment, and that's what you and Law plan to do.

Info: MDI/18+, Law x fem/reader, angst, light bondage, light Law/dom, rebellious behavior, ridding, oral and vaginal sex, orgasm holding, romance

Tag list: @lawsvalentine @itsnunya12 @sasukeswife3 @520love-a @augustanna @patchofblue @kiasnotforever

The breeze felt good this high up in the crow's nest, and the view was one that you would never be tired of seeing. The ocean’s winds played at your hair, and the scarf still tied around your neck.

You laugh to yourself as you remember what had happened at breakfast that morning. Really though, what was Law thinking staring at you like that? Zoro may not look it, but he is always perceptive about his surroundings.

We’re just going to have to be more cautious about our public interactions.

You had no worries about Law ending what you two had going on. If anything, he might become overly zealous about this affair between you and him.

For a man that appeared complicated, he actually wasn’t. A trauma case, certainly, but what person wasn’t one nowadays? But complex, never, at least to you, he wasn't.

Maybe that's why this ‘relationship’ worked or why you chose to speak to him first two years ago at the archipelago.

Thinking about it now, you could laugh at yourself for feeling so nervous approaching him.

At the time, you were being followed by four, no, six men (Zoro had taught you better than letting your nerves distract your senses) while walking as casually as possible through one of the populated groves.

From the information you had gathered from the locals, kidnappings and human trafficking occurred frequently in certain parts of the archipelago.

And, of course, I have to walk in one of those zones alone.

When everyone had chosen to go their separate ways at the Sunny, Nami had wanted you and Robin to join her on a shopping spree.

"Not this time Nami. I want to explore the place on my own and see what intel I can get about the New World."

"Oh, but Y/N, you can do any time. We are stuck here for a few days." Nami had pouted.

"Besides, Robin can do that for us while we're shopping!"

"I think we should let Y/N go on her own. There's a benefit to having the both of us gathering information." Robin chimed in with her option.

You nodded in agreement and promised Nami, "We can go shopping together tomorrow. Like you said, we have time, and I doubt one day will be enough for you."

"Fine," Nami moped.

Robin giggled and then said to you, "Have fun, Y/N. Just don't get kidnapped by a mysterious man."

You had wondered if Robin’s words had unintentionally brought you bad luck. Your eyes scanned around for an opportunity to lose the hunters, but instincts told you to keep walking.

The number of men had grown to ten and that seemed like overkill to you for one lone woman, but maybe they knew whose crew you were a part of.

Or maybe they're all from different gangs, lucky me.

You weren't weak, but you had to be clever. If all these men were from different gangs, they might fight each other over you or team up and backstab each other later. A messy situation either way.

Walking a tad faster, you heard fighting up ahead. A few people ran passed you, screaming about pirates going crazy.

A few names were mentioned, but none of them meant anything to you. Not that you could care. You were too busy thinking about using the chaos ahead to lose the people pursuing you.

That plan died when you noticed him sitting on a wooden crate, legs spread apart, with three of his men standing at his back. Immediately you recognized him from the newspapers and wanted posters.

The Surgeon of Death, Trafalgar Law.

You could never forget the sight, and the memory would always make you quiver with infatuation. What you did that day was crazy, but between approaching him for aid or fighting off the hunters alone, it was worth the gamble.

The trapped door slammed open, and the memory bubble popped away as you turned to see Sanji climbing through the opening.

“Hey,” he said simply with a smile while brushing the blond locks out of his right eye. “I came to serve you a light mid-morning snack.”

“Aw, thanks Sanji! You didn’t have to do that!”

Sanji looked pleased by your reaction and went over to the snack platform to take out a tray with a glass bowl on top.

He took out the tray and went over to you then bowed saying, “You know I don't mind. It's always a pleasure to serve a beautiful woman.”

You rolled your eyes but giggled at his words.

“Thank you, sir, for always being the handsome gentleman willing to serve me.”

Sanji chuckled and watched you take your first bite of the treat.

“Mm! So good!”

“I'm glad.”

He watched you take a few more bites before Sanji’s face became serious as he got to his other purpose for seeing you.

“So, Y/n, what was the real reason Traffy was staring at your neck?”

The spoon was in your mouth, and you glanced up at him with large, questioning eyes as if you didn't know what he was talking about.

“Zoro is an idiot, but he’s not stupid. Law was staring at your neck. Why?”

You licked your spoon and shrugged.

“I don't know. He did say he was admiring my scarf.”

“Your scarf,” Sanji frowned. “Really?”

You scooped up more of your delicious treat, saying, “He has a thing for feathers and furs; maybe he likes scarfs too.”

Sanji sighed and got out his cigarette pack. You watched him take one out and place it between his lips. It wasn't till he got out his lighter that you said something to stop him.

“You know Zoro hates it when you smoke in here.” You chided him.

The lighter clicked open and Sanji moved the small flame to light his cigarette. Smoke bloomed from his lips and he took the stick between his fingers and looked at you.

“I know that Luffy told us to get along, but you need to be careful. We’re pirates, and Traffy isn't part of our crew. Once this alliance is over, we go back to being enemies."

"I know." Boy, do I know it.

“Also, he’s not telling us everything about this plan of his. Luffy is not the only one taking advantage here; Traffy is using us.”

You nodded, agreeing that Law was holding back information. You felt a touch of guilt for not using your ‘relationship’ to find out what Law was hiding. A part of you didn't want to pry, fearing it would ruin what you had with him.

“I know,” you reluctantly admitted after a moment of silence.

Sanji took another puff of his cigarette, but the tobacco did little to ease his stress.

Something was going on, and you were hiding it from everyone. Sanji just hoped that you knew what you were doing and would ask for help if needed.

"Good," he breathed shakily as smoke swirled out of his mouth.

"And you know that if anything bad happens, I would be the first to come to your rescue, right? Or if you're hurting and can't talk to someone, you can come to me."

You set down the bowl and grabbed his hand to give it a comforting squeeze.

"Hey," you said tenderly, "you know that I love all of you, right? You and the rest of this crew are precious to me. My only and true family."

Sanji blushed and grinned at you, asking, "But you love me the most, right?"

"Of course," you grinned back at him, "how can a queen not love her knight?"

You both laughed at the playful banter, acting like the warnings about Law never happened.

As the two of you chatted pleasantly, Sanji suddenly wished this alliance will Law had never occurred. Or that the man had brought his ship and crew along, so he wouldn't have to be on the Sunny.

Better yet, he wished that a certain idiot had made his move when you were still interested. Not that he deserved you.

Neither of them did, in his opinion, but it was lady’s choice.

“I'll kill him if he hurts her.” Sanji calmly thought as he finished his cigarette.

Your soft cries filled the storage room where you and Law agreed to meet.

The pretty scarf that caused so much disruption at breakfast was torn in half.

Law used the pieces to bind your wrist and cover your eyes. He was paying you back for the trouble you caused this morning and last night.

That's what Law told himself, refusing to acknowledge the greedy monster taking over his reasoning.

The shorts and panties you wore were stripped away and tossed aside, along with your bra, which he had impatiently cut from your body. You didn't know why, but Law wanted you to leave on the thin cotton crop top you wore.

Law took in the sight of you lying submissively on the floor, steadily breathing. His grey eyes watch your chest rise and fall, the thin fabric stretching over your breast. Your nipples slowly harden under his gaze, making Law lick his lips.

“Not bad,” he said huskily.

His eye travel further down over your belly and to the valley of your core, surrounded by your thighs. Yes, this was a treat he would enjoy devouring.

“Remember, Y/N, I don't want to hear a word from you.”

Your throat moved as you swallowed, remaining obediently still.

You could hear him moving, and then something light dropped to the floor, perhaps a shirt. It sounded like he was moving closer, and you shifted your head to figure out where Law had gone.

You then gasped when his hands grabbed your legs and dragged you down towards him, you guessed. You felt him spread your legs wide, and you waited anxiously for Law to enter you roughly.

It would hurt like a bitch since you were barely wet enough to take him, but you swore not to say a word.

“What a good girl you're being for me,” he purred over your lower belly, then gave your skin a long lick.

You shivered, trying to relax your body before he penetrated you.

Law chuckled and kissed your inner thigh, following it with another teasing lick. His eyes darted up when you made a sound that nearly became a word, but you drew your bottom lip between your teeth to stop your voice.

Fuck, you were beautiful.

Watching you struggle like this pumped the blood straight to his cock, and Law wanted to do what you expected and dive right into you.

But tomorrow, they will be in Dressrosa, and Doflamingo will have stepped down from the Warlords. One way or another, his life's goal would be accomplished, and he had only now to be frivolous.

He didn't want to die, but if that's what it took, he'll have something interesting to reflect on in the afterlife.

"I'm going to take my time with you," he grinned, "so don't say a fucking word." He pressed his tongue to your heat and ran it up, fast, wet, and hot.

You let out a sharp cry of surprise, turning your head to the side. Your breath became a mix of panted cries and whines as Law's mouth tasted more of you.

His strong inked hands kept your legs open to him, and you would feel a digit enter you. You could also feel his goatee rubbing against you as he ate at you.

Being unable to see made all of this too intense and startling since you didn't know what would happen next.

What you would give to look at him! To see his expression! To have him glance up at you, grey eyes locking with yours as he dipped his tongue into you!

"Aah, ah, nah. Ah!"  

Law enjoyed the sounds of your pathetic voice as he tasted you. With every reaction you made, he wanted to see if he could get more out of you. He flicked his tongue, then swirled it, playing with you, then used his lips to suck at the sweet honey dripping from your pussy.

Every touch was sweet torment from the lack of sight, nearly bringing you to your end, but Law would only bring you to the edge and then retreat at the last second.

It made you want to scream!

Law chuckled at your frustrated cries and went back to torturing you.

Having enough, your hands reached out to touch him back and get him to give you what you wanted. His dark hair brushed along your fingers, and they curled into the short locks to hold him to you as your hips gyrate in slow waves.

Law growled into you, but he didn't stop and suck in your clit. The scream you let out stroked his pride, making his dick throb painfully. He wanted to drag this out more, but he had to get inside you.

“Damn you,” he mentally swore.

Even when you promise to behave, you always find a way to rebel. It drove him insane, but he loved it. Still, Law was determined to remain in charge.

He moved away from your hands, making you cry desperately, and gazed down at his work.

Your tasty pussy, now moist and pulsing, looked ready to take him in. Law gripped your tied hands and pushed them back over your head while moving over you.

"Keep them there," he order.

You frowned, annoyed that you couldn't argue back, but you didn't move your hands.

You then gasped, almost saying his name, when Law pinched one of your nipples. His mouth then came over your other mound. The fabric became wet, and you cursed the man for making you leave the top on!

The curses grew louder in your head as you felt Law pushed into you without warning.

"FUCK!" Law voiced as you screamed it in your head.

The connection was like a hot wire coming to life as he reached further into you. God, he just had you last night, and Law felt ready to burst into you without needing to move.

And, of course, being the blasted woman you were, you just had to squeeze the muscles holding him.

"F-Fuck! Y/n! Don't!"

You released him and moved your hips. Law gritted his teeth, focusing on not losing to you so soon. You were tired of orders the arrogant bastard kept making. You had something thick and hard in you and wanted to feel the pleasure it could bring you.

"You bitch!" Law groaned when you grind and squeezed against him.

He tried to pull away, but you quickly trapped him with your legs. You squeezed him again, and Law collapsed against your body. A low chuckle vibrated against your neck, then he kissed one of the love bites he had marked you with.

"Fine!"

Law rolled the two of you over so you sat on top of him with you still impaled on his length.

You tossed back your head with a hiss at the new position. Law brought his arms under his head and smirked up at you.

"Since you're so eager, you can do the work. Maybe this will teach you a lesson for disobedience."

You huffed, now really having enough. You used your bonded hands to remove the blindfold and glared down at him.

"I'm going to make you regret those words," you mentally told him.

Law just stared back with that annoying smirk and taunted, "Bring it."

"Mother Fu-"

You lifted yourself up and slammed back down, your hands on his firm abs for support. Law groaned, then chuckled. It would take more than that for him to cave to you, and you knew it as well.

And you knew him.

Law's brow quirked when you smirked back at him. How could he forget that he was in your territory? Literally.

You moved, but you also used your hands to touch your breast. Law swallowed hard, watching you grope yourself as you moved on his cock. You didn't utter his name but he could see you thinking it in your eyes.

You were calling to him, begging him to move with you. To reach that final place. Law was almost moved enough to be seduced by you. Almost, be he stubbornly held back.

He wouldn't give in! Not this time! Not when it could be his last!

Law tried closing his eyes to fake boredom, but then the sounds you made had him want to thrust his hips up into you, but he held back. He didn't care if you brought yourself to your own end at this point. He refused to budge. 

Law would hold on till you begged him to take you or till you tuckered yourself out.

Just like you knew him, Law knew you.

You were starting to slow down, and Law opened an eye to peer at you. He smirked at how frustrated you looked, trying to hold back your orgasm.

"Keep going, baby. I'm not getting tired of this view anytime soon."

You whined, not wanting to cum without him. Only you did. You couldn't help it. All that thrusting you did with his gaze lazily watching you was too much. Damn him.

Law caught you as you slumped forward. He had to breathe through the spasms he felt as your pussy tried to milk him of his seed. His mouth covered yours, and you kissed deliriously at him, taking in his tongue.

He rolled you back over and drew out of you.

"No," you nearly whispered, but Law kissed your mouth to stop you.

"Shh." Law hushed as he undid the piece of fabric at your wrist.

Immediately you ran your hands over his tattooed chest, then up his neck, where they cradled his face. You kissed his lips again as a frightening feeling crept into your chest.

You loved this frustrating, stubborn, ruthless, scheming, yet kind man. Law promised to tell you a small part of what he was hiding from your crew, but only if you didn't speak until he permitted and you nearly lost the game.

Law pressed his forehead to yours and adjusted himself over you.

“Be a good girl for me, Y/n or I’ll punish you again. Understand.”

You weakly nodded, then sighed.

Law then surprised you by tenderly kissing your lips and sighing a smile. Not a smirk or grin, but a genuine smile.

No, you thought mournfully, don't do that to me.

“Let me take care of the rest,” he breathed as he pressed the head of his cock back at your entrance.

Law heatedly kissed you as he plunged back into you. Now that he had you exhaust the defiance out of yourself, you were his to enjoy at his leisure. You held him as he pounded into you, not caring anymore about retaliating.

Not wanting to think what that smile could have meant!

Use me! Just use me and don't give me false hope. Don't show me a dream that can never be!

You didn't care if he gave you another order. If he wanted you to bark like a needy bitch, you would have. You should have just been a ‘good girl’ and let him fuck you till he had enough.

It would have been easier to pretend that nothing deeper was happening between the two of you besides sex.

You still could have if the energy behind his thrust hadn't changed. Still, fast and hard, something felt different. His breathing changed, and the way he suddenly held onto you changed. Law was doing something he wasn’t supposed to do, and it felt amazing.

Damn him! Damn him! You cursed as you closed your eyes to hold back tears.

The heat in your lower belly started to coil again, making you move with him. There was no choice; you had to move with him to respond to his hidden confession.

Law didn't tell you to stop and groaned into your ear, "Go ahead, say it."

You moaned, then breathed out his name.

"Louder," he commanded, then bit down at an empty space at your shoulder.

"Law!" You gasped, his pounding coming harder, growing more desperate.

"Again!"

You were both racing toward that end, ready to fall into oblivion.

"LAW!" You cried louder.

It wasn't enough! He needed more from you!

"Tell me your mine!"

"I'm yours!!” You cried out earnestly, wishing you could somehow get closer to him while holding on to your sanity.

“All yours! I'm all yours, Law!"

Law closed his eyes, feeling himself losing his mind! He knew this was wrong to do. That he was being selfish and cruel to you but he wanted it! This might be his last chance to hear it!

"Tell me-" he started to say, but you change the movement of your hips, throwing his body and mine into chaos.

“Tell-"

"Me-"

Law groaned and grunted as he came inside you as his head came down to your shoulder. You held him, head thrown back with a breathless cry as you orgasmed again.

Tears pricked at your eyes at the blissful rapture you were bathed in and at the selfish request Law had nearly made.

You knew what he wanted you to tell him, but they were words that shouldn't be said out loud.

The two of you were sharing a fantasy that was meant to be short lived.

Saying those words would shatter the fantasy and invite cruel reality.

The reality where the two of you were from different pirate crews and attempting to take down a Warlord and an Emperor. There was no room for fantasy if you wanted to survive.

You stared at the ceiling as you held a panting Law, his length still buried inside you. Tears trickle down from your eyes as you gave him a protective squeeze. 

Law was a logical man and his sudden act of recklessness told you more than you wanted to know about his plan.

Sanji was right.

Law was using Luffy and all of you, but it was something he was willing to die for, and you didn't want to know what it was anymore.

Nothing would come out of this relationship, but Law was an idiot to think you would let him die. Or that Luffy would allow it.

You smiled and wiped away your tears.

“You’re about to find out what all of us are made of,” you whispered to Law as he dozed off in your arms.

(Part 1)

[kitsuga]

Playing House. {Albedo x Reader}

Description: 

A fic in which Albedo and reader play a hybrid of house and hide-n-seek with Klee and Albedo teases the reader. Takes place during the summer islands event. 

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Tags: fluff, big brother albedo and reader play with klee, possibly ooc? it was my first attempt at albedo, reader is like an older sibling figure to klee, wrote this during the golden apple archipelago event (or at least in this setting i might have written it after i dont remember), reader is NOT mc/lumine/aether!, not beta'd, not edited, gender neutral reader, genshin impact x reader, albedo x reader, genshin impact, albedo

Word Count: 1,164

A/N: Written on: July 9, 2021 

Mmm idk he feels a bit ooc? But I was given this idea and I couldn’t help but run with it because it sounded sooo cute, so, my bad if it is ooc LMAO 

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The sounds of the waves lapping against the sand was relaxing, Albedo thought. There was so much to do—to see—on these islands, who knew the time spent here could also be relaxing from time to time? He wandered along the shoreline with his eyes closed, taking in the environment with the rest of his senses to commit it to memory; he cleared his mind of all unnecessary thoughts and started to feel his shoulders relax for a moment, only for it to be short lived as a foreign sound filled his ears. He slowly opened his eyes. 

Across the impeding horizon, he could make out the silhouette of (Y/n), crouched down and peering into the small opening of one of the peculiar shell structures. He approached them quietly, calling out their name suddenly and keeping a curt laugh to himself when they had fallen forward into the sand. 

“Albedo!” 

“What are you doing down there?” 

“You know exactly what I’m doing down here!” They sat back on their heels and brushed as much sand off of them as they could. 

“I meant before you had your unfortunate accident.” 

“I-- you’re the one who--” they sighed and rose to their feet with the help of his outstretched hand. “Nevermind.” 

“You still haven’t told me what you were doing.” 

“I... well...” 

Albedo hummed and stared at them, knowing that the longer he stared unmoving, the quicker they were to open up; their face started to heat up and they scratched the back of their neck nervously. 

“I... lost the baby.” 

“The... what?” His head tilted to the side, “You were too quiet, I didn’t catch what--”  

“I lost the baby!”  

He was taken back by their shout and looked at them from head to toe; they rubbed their face out of both exasperation and disbelief, and genuinely seemed distraught by their loss... however... 

“What baby?” 

It was their turn to stare at him blankly which, admittedly, made his heart flutter a bit. They blinked once, twice, three times before their features lit back up—this time in a mixture of embarrassment, shock, and realization—they accentuated it with a light smack to their cheeks. 

“You weren’t around for that, that’s right!” 

“Mm, no, I seem to be lost. Care to enlighten me?” 

Triumphantly, they stood tall with their hands on their hips, nose turned upwards—very childish, but he had to admit it was a fairly cute look on them—and they gave an equally as triumphant smirk as well. The breeze was so nicely timed, if they had a cape, it’d fly in the wind; Albedo chuckled to himself. 

They explained it all with that smirk on their face, changing poses every now and again to point or poke his chest as emphasis as they were so proud of their little game with Klee. What started as a simple little play pretend evolved into a complicated game of “house” -- Albedo nodded along and praised their attention to detail and level of creativity—which had turned into an advanced game of hide-n-seek, which was then held within the confines of the game of “house”. Intricate.  

“So tell me, how do I fit into this game again?” 

“Well,” they turned from him and started to scan over the horizon now, more than likely looking for Klee, “Klee said you’re playing the dad role. Klee is our baby--” 

“Which makes you my significant other, yes?” 

Albedo smiled when he heard them grumble a sheepish agreement and moved beside them, offering his hand to them. His chest grew warm when they accepted the gesture; the two of them started off to check high and low on the island, calling out to Klee by name or by precious nicknames as though they took their made-up parental roles seriously. 

“She isn’t over here, darling.” Albedo continuously got a kick out of embarrassing them with pet names. “Have you found her over there?” 

“Oh, my dearest husband,” they dramatically played along, “she isn’t hidden in these trees either. Where could our precious little baby have gone?” 

He looked amused; it was obvious by the way they snickered to themselves that they tried calling him equally as loving names to embarrass him as he had them—it didn’t work. Standing beside them once again, he gently placed his hand on their lower back, reveling in the way they had jumped. 

“Are you certain she isn’t here, love?” 

“Y... yes! I looked in the trees--” 

A soft giggle cut them off and shook the bushes in front of them. (Y/n) and Albedo looked at each other a moment, (Y/n) giving him a deadpan glare while he simply gave an innocent smirk. He gestured to the bushes and put a finger to his lips, effectively convincing (Y/n) to play along with his antics.  

“Oh, I suppose we’ll just have to count our losses and look elsewhere. What a crafty little Klee we’ve got--” 

“Surprise!” Klee jumped from the bushes and shouted, (Y/n) and Albedo feigned surprise gasps. “I’m here, I’m here! Did I get ya?” 

“Oh, there you are!” Albedo pulled her from her hiding spot and placed her back on the ground, “You definitely got (Y/n).” 

“Hey!” They gave him a little pout before picking Klee up and spinning around a bit, laughing along to the melodic sound of her giggles. “He’s right though, you did get me. My darling little Klee!” 

Once (Y/n) put her down, Klee played with the straps of her backpack, a large smile on her face as she also rocked back and forth on her heels. She asked if she really gave them a fright, and wanted to confirm that she won that round of hide-n-seek; after sticking her tongue out at the two of them in her victory, she turned and ran opposite of them, towards the water. (Y/n) responded to her word of thanks with a wave that went unseen, their own word of warning following the younger child as she went off to, more than likely, bomb some poor, unsuspecting fish. Albedo stared at (Y/n) a bit too long for their liking, as they quickly grew nervous and deflected him. 

“What is it?” 

“Nothing. I was just wondering if you’re going to use that kind of language with your own children.” 

“My--” they waved him off, “that’s not anything to think about now; playing around with Klee is enough.” 

“Mm,” he brought his hand to his lips and pondered out loud, “then will you continue calling me those pet names?” 

They turned their head quickly, completely bewildered. With another seemingly innocent smile and not another single word, he started to walk in the direction Klee had taken off in. (Y/n) stood there for a few moments, mulling over his words before they called out to him—he ignored them. As if he were simply telling them what the weather was like, he spoke to them over his shoulder. 

“Let’s keep playing house, (Y/n).”  

[squeezil]

I don't usually write, let alone share fan fics, but I've been on a DEEP Httyd hyperfixation lately and it's been particularly inspiring, and I'm a slut for a good Hiccupxreader so have this lil piece I wrote, I plan on writing more and if people like it who knows maybe it'll be more than just a collection of one shots 🤷🏼‍♀

This Changes Everything...

Hiccup x Fem!Reader

This takes place between Rtte and Httyd2 when Hiccup is working on his map and trying to find the part of himself he thinks is missing, little does he know he’s going to find something else along the way that he really didn’t expect.

Y/N = your name

D/N = your dragon’s name

H/C = your hair color

E/C = your eye color

F/C = your favorite color

Chapter 1

It was late afternoon on a beautiful midsummer day, the sun was shining bright over the calm seas, the steady waves sparkling in the warm light. "What better time for an exploratory flight around the the archipelago?" Hiccup thought, ignoring the other glaringly obvious reason being that once again his father had tried to talk to him about taking over as chief soon. That wasn't something he wanted to talk or think about right now. There was still far too much he hadn't discovered yet, about the world, and more importantly, about himself. 

He and Toothless had been soaring around the neighboring islands for what seemed like hours at this point, noticing nothing new or out of the ordinary, much to Hiccup's disappointment. He leaned forward to place his hand on Toothless' neck and opened his mouth to tell him to turn back towards home when the Night Fury's ears shot up in eager curiosity, and began sniffing excitedly at the air. 

"What is it, bud?" Hiccup asked, curious himself now. 

Before he knew it, Toothless dove towards a nearby island with such speed he nearly fell backwards from the sheer force. "Thank Thor for this harness!" He thought. 

"Whoooa, bud! What's gotten into you?" Said Hiccup, as they plummeted faster. 

They landed so abruptly that Hiccup lurched forward and tumbled off of Toothless' back. With a quick glance back at his best friend to make sure he wasn't hurt and an impatient bark, Toothless set off into the woods, eagerly bounding through the trees to find the source of his interest. 

"Toothless, wait! Where are you going?!" Hiccup called, getting up as quick as he could to run after his wayward dragon. Try as he might, he couldn't quite keep up with Toothless and soon lost him in the brush. 

"Toothless? Toothless! Toothless, where are you?!" He screamed, praying to the Gods that there weren't dragon hunters on this island. In the near distance he heard the distinct roar of a Night Fury and quickened his pace.

Eventually he came to a small clearing nestled in a thick canopy of trees, which blocked out most of the sunlight, making it difficult to see well. He saw a large, dark creature moving in the shadows and squinted for a moment before letting out a sigh of relief. It was definitely a Night Fury.

"There you are! What in Thor’s name was so important that you couldn't wait for me, huh bud?" He said, a twinge of annoyance in his voice, despite trying to maintain a calm tone.

The dragon shifted quickly and whipped it's head around, letting out a low warning growl as it did so. 

"Wh-Hey, hey bud, it's me, it's Hiccup, what are you-" he stopped cold as the dragon moved into a small streak of light peaking through the trees, illuminating it's deep violet eyes that were angrily boring into his startled green ones. 

Shock, then dawning comprehension, and finally fear spread across Hiccup's face as he realized Toothless had green eyes, this was not his dragon. He had somehow managed to find another Night Fury…and they were mad. 

"Ohh my Gods…Wow, another Night Fury! And look at your eyes, I've only ever seen Razorwhips with purple eyes before, incredible!" He started, his fascination getting the better of him for a moment before remembering that this dragon was not friendly, yet. "Uhh, whooa-okay, easy, I-I'm not gonna hurt you, it's okay." He said gently, his hands up in attempt to show he wasn't a threat. 

The wild Night Fury growled louder, and narrowed it's eyes, clearly not believing his assurances. He backed up slowly until he was backed up against a tree and suddenly, from a branch above him Hiccup heard a woman shout, 

"You're damn right you won't hurt her!" 

The next thing he knew, he was face down on the ground with a knee pressed between his shoulder blades, pinning him in place and the distinct sound of a dagger being unsheathed above him. He shifted nervously under her weight and tried to speak through the dirt and grass he was currently being shoved into.

"Look, ugh, I don't know who you are, but I really don't mean either of you any harm, I would never hurt a dragon, especially not a Night Fury!"  

"Uh huh, sure, just like the last guy we caught sneaking up on us. You hunters are all the same! Why can't you just leave her alone?!" She said, angrily digging her knee harder into his back.

"Argh…Hey, could you ease up a bit? I'm telling you the truth, I'm not a hunter, I'm a dragon rider!" He said in a strained voice.

"Well that's a new one, huh D/N?" The Night Fury made a disdainful huff of agreement beside her, "but I'm still not buyin' it, I know you were just here for same thing they all come for, the last Night Fury in the world. Well, if you want her, you have to go through me!" She said, raising her arm to strike, but before she could bring down her dagger a purple plasma blast came out from the bushes, disarming her. She looked up at D/N in confusion, and the dragon simply gave her an equally confused look in return.

Toothless sprang out of the bushes, growling and baring his teeth as he slowly advanced on the young woman holding his friend hostage. With his captor sufficiently distracted, Hiccup managed to push her off of him and swipe a foot under her, knocking her to the ground.

"Look, we don't want to fight you, please just listen to me." He said, getting to his feet and once again putting his hands up in a gesture of peace. 

She stared, dumbfounded at Toothless, who had positioned himself in between them to protect Hiccup, "I can't believe it" she uttered under her breath. She turned back to Hiccup with a suspicious glare, "who are you?" narrowing her eyes at him, one hand reaching for the bow slung across her back in case she still needed to fight her way out of this.

"My name is Hiccup Haddock, son of Stoick the Vast the Chief of Berk, and leader of the Dragon Riders of Berk. This is Toothless, and up until now we believed he was the last Night Fury left in existence…" He said carefully, taking a tentative step towards the young lady and her wary dragon.

D/N was so distracted at this point by Toothless that she had stopped growling and had begun eyeing him with curiosity. They cautiously approached each other. Glancing at the dragons, who had both dropped their defenses and started sniffing each other inquisitively, Hiccup smiled slightly and let out a relieved sigh "see? Toothless just wanted to say hello." He turned back to the girl who had now lowered her hand from her bow, but still looked uncertain. 

"Look, I'm sorry we scared you guys, we were just scouting out new islands to add to this map I've been working on and I guess Toothless heard or smelled, er, D/N, was it? Anyway, dragons are gonna do what dragons do, right?" He said, smiling wider now.

He had such an unassuming, warm smile, she couldn’t help but feel more at ease, and there was something in his eyes that made it hard not to believe him. Realizing that maybe he wasn't quite the threat she thought he was after all, she relaxed slightly and  took a few steps closer to him. With how fast everything had just happened, Hiccup hadn’t really gotten a good look at her before, but now that she was standing only a few feet from him he could see that she was easily one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. She had long H/C hair with two small braids around the crown of her head that met in the back where they merged with a larger braid that fell down the middle of her back, with the rest of her hair falling free underneath. Her eyes were a stunning shade of E/C. She was dressed in a long F/C tunic with a off-white fur wrap around her shoulders that clasped around her neck with a strangely carved broach, a leather skirt, and fur lined boots that matched the fur around her shoulders.

“Wow…” Hiccup thought out loud, then catching himself said “uh, I mean, how…did you find a Night Fury? For the last five years we assumed Toothless here was the last of their kind.”

“We sort of…found each other, I guess.” she started, pausing a moment as she recalled their troubled past. “Where I’m from dragons are considered evil, all anyone cares about is capturing or killing them, but something about that never sat right with me, even though they terrified me. It wasn’t until I came across D/N in one of our traps that I realized why, I saw how scared she was, how helpless, and it was like…” she trailed off staring at the ground, trying to find the words.

“It was like she was just as scared of you as you were of her? Almost as if you could see yourself in her?” Hiccup finished. 

She looked up at him speechless, “Y-yes…how did you know that?”

He let out a light hearted chuckle and said “Because it was exactly the same with me and Toothless. I looked at him, and I saw myself, and we’ve been together ever since, isn’t that right, bud?” he said gesturing for Toothless to come over to him, prompting the dragon to jump over, nuzzle his arm, and lick him across the face. “Haha okay, okay, easy bud! You know that doesn’t wash out!” 

She couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at this sudden display of affection between the two. D/N came over to her and gently head butted her as if to ask for her turn. She stroked the dragon’s smooth scales and whispered, “well, what do you think, girl? Should we trust em?” D/N cooed happily in response. 

Taking another tentative step towards Hiccup, she said "I-I'm sorry I attacked you…it's just, we've never met anyone else like us…either of us. It's just been the two of us for so long, I learned trusting other humans doesn't usually turn out well." A look of quiet disdain darkened her face at the last few words. 

Hiccup furrowed his brow, his smile fading with concern as he turned back to look at her and said "Sounds like you guys have been through a lot…we can relate.” 

She looked from Hiccup to Toothless, suddenly noticing that he had a prosthetic leg, and that Toothless had a prosthetic tail fin as well.

"What happened to you guys?" She said, feeling as if she already knew the answer, "hunters?" she added with a scowl.

"Uh…not exactly." he replied sheepishly, absent mindedly rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. Realizing this wasn’t much of an explanation, Hiccup sighed and said, “it’s a long story.”

“Well, I have time.” She gestured to a large rock nearby for them to sit on. Hiccup smiled and followed her over. He started telling the story of how Berk used to be, how he had shot down Toothless only to realize that he didn’t want to kill him, how they had slowly gained each other’s trust, and eventually how they had managed to change everyone else’s minds about dragons. 

“Sure, life’s a little more chaotic now with dragons everywhere, but it’s so much better!” He said, absolutely beaming. She couldn’t help but return his infectious smile. 

“That’s amazing! I wish my tribe was like that…” she said, her tone turning wistful. “We had to run away to keep D/N safe, the people back home just didn’t understand, they only wanted to mount her head on their walls” she glared at the dirt, fuming at the harsh memories, “even my own family turned against us.”

Hiccup gave her a sympathetic look and said “Well, if you don’t have anywhere else to go, why don’t you come back to Berk with me and Toothless?” 

She looked up at him, her nerves suddenly returning, “Oh…Uh, I don’t know…I mean, you two do seem nice, and I still can’t believe we met another Night Fury…but, we don’t really know you that well or how well we can trust you, no offense. I have to do what’s right for D/N, she’s saved me countless times, I have to keep her safe too.”

“Well…if you won’t come to Berk, how about we come back here to check up on you from time to time? That way you know you’re not alone, and Toothless and D/N can finally have one of their own kind to spend time with, it’s a win-win!” He said hopefully.

She thought for a moment, unsure, but something tugged at her gut to say yes. She didn’t know why, but she really did want to see Hiccup again, and he did have a good point, this was D/N’s only chance to be with her own species, this chance wouldn’t come up again. 

“Hmm…I guess that would be okay.” She said, smiling softly. 

He grinned back at her sweetly and said “Great! Hey, uh, I just realized I never got your name.”

“Oh, right, it’s Y/N.”

“Y/N? Wow, that’s…that’s really pretty, uh I mean, I’m really glad we met, Y/N.” He said, once again smiling wide, his cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink.

She felt her cheeks warm slightly too as he looked at her, his green eyes bright with earnest enthusiasm somehow made her feel that for the first time ever, she was truly being seen. For once in her life, she was genuinely hopeful.

[dinodorks]

[ A size comparison of three rhabdodontids, (left to right) Mochlodon suessi, Rhabdodon priscus and Transylvanosaurus platycephalus. Illustrated by Peter Nickolaus. ]

"When you think of dinosaurs, you might automatically imagine iconic dinosaurs such as Tyrannosaurus and Triceratops. But at the same time when these were stomping on the ancient coastal plains of North America, some of their very distant cousins were reigning over Europe's lands. During the Late Cretaceous (between 100 and 66 million years ago), Europe was an extensive archipelago with numerous small and large islands situated in a shallow tropical sea, the so-called Late Cretaceous European Archipelago. The dinosaur groups that lived on these islands were very different from those of other continents, often being much smaller than their mainland relatives. These European dinosaurs include small and medium-sized carnivorous theropods, armored ankylosaurs, long-necked sauropods, duck-billed hadrosaurs, and rhabdodontids. Arguably one of the most important of these European dinosaur groups is the family Rhabdodontidae, which groups together the most common medium-sized herbivores of the Late Cretaceous European Archipelago. A joint research team from the Universities of Tübingen (Germany), Budapest (Hungary) and Bucharest (Romania) recently reviewed what we know about these peculiar dinosaurs in a new paper published in the journal Fossil Record."

Read more: "Europe's very own dinosaurs: The enigmatic Late Cretaceous rhabdodontids"

[wanderingokali]

A couple extra colors/breeds of the alikulla.

The Inland Blue has a brighter red neck and back, and entirely blue hindwings, as well as a pleasantly round face. It is most common in Anilei's Radiance.

Seafarers are a breed that stems from the large archipelago that is Otaxel's Ribs, and have the remarkable ability to sleep while flying! Easygoing and very stable in flight, they are the most popular for long travels.

The breed in this post is the Mountain Redtail, most common in the northern part of Omikti's breath. They have pretty-looking, long ear tufts, and are prized for their agility and ability to handle high altitude and low temperatures.