#but also is trying to force his children to be marines

[sh4nksslvt]

Hello, good morning, I hope I'm not bothering you. But I can make a request for Whitebeard and Fem Reader, which is a story of forbidden love where he is a pirate we know and she is an admiral. Respected that they nicknamed her mother to those who go with them, they had a secret relationship a few years ago before Roger's death that he also knew but unfortunately A reader like her had a devil fruit that was mysterious and valuable that deals with control From the dreams, some powers similar to those of MLP's Moon or Maleficent. But she had to sacrifice herself to save her men whom she considers sons. Against a pirate who was a Yonko who was protected by the navy And that devastated Whitebeard and those who knew her, but after a few years Whitebeard met a boy who was his son and reader Only he was raised with Garp who is practically the adopted brother of Ace Luffy and Sabo

Oh, I dreamed it and I swear I woke up crying. But I said it would be interesting to read. Take your time thank you ❤️

sounds cool anw tried my best>< tis not much but, hope u like it!

When the Sea Dreams of You

A powerful admiral, once known as "Mother" to her men, sacrifices herself to save them—leaving behind a secret love and child with Whitebeard. Years later, fate delivers the boy back into his father's world.

whitebeard x fem! reader | ONE SHOT

tags: slight angst, sfw, ooc, major character death, grief, oc

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe and akward

word count: 1.1k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ���࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The sea remembered her name even if the world had tried to forget it.

She had once stood atop warships with the wind billowing her cape, marines at her side, and fear in the hearts of pirates. An admiral—respected, strategic, and maternal in a way that felt divine—earning her the nickname “Mother” from those who served under her.

But Edward Newgate had once called her something else. Something softer. Something forbidden.

“Y/N.”

Their love had bloomed like moonlight on water—beautiful, distant, unreachable to anyone else. Back when the world was simpler. Before Roger died. Before Yonko politics became tangled with Navy ambition. Before dreams became dangerous things.

She had eaten a devil fruit so rare that even the elders of Mariejois feared it: the Yume Yume no Mi, Dream Dream Fruit. It granted her the power to shape dreams, trap enemies in illusions, or soothe nightmares into serenity. Some whispered she could walk between minds in their sleep, learn secrets, or even leave part of herself behind in another’s subconscious.

The World Government had seen her as both an asset and a threat. So they used her… and then allowed her to die.

At least, that’s what the world believed.

.

.

It began in silence—after battles, beneath stars, stolen moments between two great forces who knew what their love would cost.

"You know," she whispered against his chest, fingers tangled in his wild blond hair, "this can never be more than a dream."

Whitebeard chuckled, arms like mountains holding her close. "Then let’s never wake up."

They had found each other between skirmishes, on islands not marked on maps, during ceasefires no one else knew about. She would arrive wearing her navy coat, only to drop it at his feet like a surrender flag. He’d tease her, call her dangerous in more ways than one, and then hold her like the war would never reach them.

Only a few knew—Roger had been one of them. He had laughed when he found out, slapping Whitebeard on the back.

"You're crazier than I thought, Newgate! Falling for the Navy's ‘Mother’? You really wanna die, huh?"

But Roger understood. In his own way. And then he died.

And everything changed.

.

.

The pirate was brutal. A Yonko, protected by politics, feared by soldiers. He had come for her fleet—not her—and underestimated what a mother does for her children.

Her men had screamed for retreat. She stayed.

The battlefield twisted around her as she activated the forbidden side of her fruit. A nightmare realm bloomed into existence—a dreamscape that would swallow both her and the Yonko into an endless illusion, locking them in a dimension between sleep and wakefulness.

It was her final act. Her fleet escaped. Her body was never recovered. The navy quietly declared her dead, sealing all files. Honoring her in silence.

But Whitebeard knew the truth. He felt it—like a tear in his soul.

And he never forgave them.

Years Later

He appeared on Sphinx Island on a slow afternoon, knocking over crates trying to carry supplies. Hair as wild as the sea, grin just familiar enough to sting.

Marco had noticed first. “Oyaji, you might wanna come see this-yoi…”

The boy stood with a seagull feather in his messy hair and a Marine jacket tied around his waist like a belt. His laugh—loud and reckless—could’ve belonged to Ace. But there was something calmer beneath it. More… deliberate.

“What’s your name, brat?” Whitebeard asked, looming above him like a mountain.

The boy looked up. His eyes were her eyes.

“Hoshi.”

Silence fell.

“My full name’s Hoshi. Don’t really use my last name. Garp-jiji says it stirs trouble.”

Marco blinked. “Garp? As in—Vice Admiral Garp?”

“Yeah. He's kinda like my grandpa. I grew up with his other grandkids. We were like brothers.” He scratched his head. “But I don’t look like them much. People always said I looked more like… her.”

Whitebeard’s breath caught.

The boy looked up. “My mom was an admiral. ‘Mother,’ they called her. I know she’s gone. But Garp-jiji said she loved me. Said I was a dream she left behind.”

Whitebeard’s knees nearly buckled.

He whispered, “And your father?”

“Dunno. Garp-jiji wouldn’t say. But sometimes… I dream of a voice. Loud, laughing. Warm. It’s dumb.”

Whitebeard was trembling now. Marco placed a hand on his shoulder, steadying him.

“It ain’t dumb, brat,” the old pirate said hoarsely. “You ever hear the name Whitebeard?”

Hoshi tilted his head. “Course I have. Big ol’ sea legend.”

Whitebeard knelt down so their eyes met.

“I’m Edward Newgate. Your father.”

The revelation shook the crew to its core. Most knew of her in whispers and unspoken glances. Thatch remembered her as the admiral who once spared his life. Vista swore he saw Whitebeard smile softer the weeks after her visits.

Hoshi adjusted fast. He sparred with Marco, pestered Jozu for strength training, and charmed even Izo with his mischief. But some nights, he asked Whitebeard to tell him stories about her.

And Whitebeard did.

“Your mother used to make even the sea stand still,” he’d murmur, staring out at the tide. “She held nations in her hand, but always chose to cradle her boys instead.”

“Did you love her?”

“With every bone in this old body.”

.

.

One night, Hoshi woke screaming. The crew rushed in—swords drawn, ready to fight.

“She was there!” he shouted. “I saw her! She said my name. She held me!”

Marco looked pale. “A dream?”

Whitebeard stepped in. “No… more than that.”

The Dream Dream Fruit never truly dies. Some powers linger. Some souls too stubborn to fade.

That night, as Whitebeard slept, he dreamed of a silver shore, and there she stood—older, transparent, wrapped in moonlight.

“Edward,” she said, and his heart cracked open.

“I never stopped,” he choked. “You should have told me about the boy.”

“I was protecting him. The world wasn’t ready. You weren’t safe. I thought… if he had even a chance at peace, he deserved it.”

Whitebeard reached for her. His hand passed through light.

“Is this real?”

She smiled. “As real as dreams can be.”

“Can I bring you back?”

“No. My body is gone. My soul… remains here. The price of my power.” She cupped his cheek with fingers made of stars. “But I’ll watch over him. And you.”

He wanted to scream, but all he could do was weep.

“Tell him,” she whispered, fading, “that I loved him more than life itself.”

.

.

Hoshi grew into his power, showing hints of the Dream Dream Fruit awakening within him. He spoke of visions, soft voices in sleep, sometimes warnings.

He stayed with Whitebeard’s crew, not as a soldier, but as a bridge—between past and future.

And sometimes, when the moon was high and dreams felt close enough to touch, he would feel her again.

A lullaby in the tide.

A hand on his shoulder.

The sea remembering her name.

[wheelscomedyandmore]

You Might Not Ever Guess

Captain Kangaroo passed away on January 23, 2004 as age 76 , which is odd, because he always looked to be 76. (DOB: 6/27/27 ) His death reminded me of the following story.

Some people have been a bit offended that the actor, Lee Marvin, is buried in a grave alongside 3 and 4 star generals at Arlington National Cemetery . His marker gives his name, rank (PVT) and service (USMC). Nothing else. Here's a guy who was only a famous movie star who served his time, why the heck does he rate burial with these guys? Well, following is the amazing answer:

I always liked Lee Marvin, but didn't know the extent of his Corps experiences.

In a time when many Hollywood stars served their country in the armed forces often in rear echelon posts where they were carefully protected, only to be trotted out to perform for the cameras in war bond promotions.

Lee Marvin was a genuine hero. He won the Navy Cross at Iwo Jima. There is only one higher Naval award... the Medal Of Honor

If that is a surprising comment on the true character of the man, he credits his sergeant with an even greater show of bravery.

Dialog from "The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson": His guest was Lee Marvin Johnny said, "Lee, I'll bet a lot of people are unaware that you were a Marine in the initial landing at Iwo Jima ..and that during the course of that action you earned the Navy Cross and were severely wounded."

"Yeah, yeah... I got shot square in the bottom and they gave me the Cross for securing a hot spot about halfway up Suribachi. Bad thing about getting shot up on a mountain is guys getting' shot hauling you down. But Johnny, at Iwo I served under the bravest man I ever knew... We both got the cross the same day, but what he did for his Cross made mine look cheap in comparison. That dumb guy actually stood up on Red beach and directed his troops to move forward and get the hell off the beach. Bullets flying by, with mortar rounds landing everywhere and he stood there as the main target of gunfire so that he could get his men to safety. He did this on more than one occasion because his men's safety was more important than his own life.

That Sergeant and I have been lifelong friends. When they brought me off Suribachi we passed the Sergeant and he lit a smoke and passed it to me, lying on my belly on the litter and said, where'd they get you Lee?' Well Bob.. if you make it home before me, tell Mom to sell the outhouse!"

Johnny, I'm not lying, Sergeant Keeshan was the bravest man I ever knew.

The Sergeant's name is Bob Keeshan. You and the world know him as Captain Kangaroo."

On another note, there was this wimpy little man (who just passed away) on PBS, gentle and quiet. Mr. Rogers is another of those you would least suspect of being anything but what he now portrays to our youth.

But Mr. Rogers was a U.S. Navy Seal, combat-proven in Vietnam with over twenty-five confirmed kills to his name. He wore a long-sleeved sweater on TV, to cover the many tattoos on his forearm and biceps. He was a master in small arms and hand-to-hand combat, able to disarm or kill in a heartbeat.

After the war Mr. Rogers became an ordained Presbyterian minister and therefore a pacifist. Vowing to never harm another human and also dedicating the rest of his life to trying to help lead children on the right path in life. He hid away the tattoos and his past life and won our hearts with his quiet wit and charm.

America's real heroes don't flaunt what they did; they quietly go about their day-to-day lives, doing what they do best. They earned our respect and the freedoms that we all enjoy.

Look around and see if you can find one of those heroes in your midst.

Often, they are the ones you'd least suspect, but would most like to have on your side if anything ever happened.

Take the time to thank anyone that has fought for our freedom. With encouragement they could be the next Captain Kangaroo or Mr. Rogers.

Send this on will you please? Nothing will happen to you if you don't, but it will tell what a "real" HERO is made of.

[kisses4themissus]

Obsessive 2 You || Hwang Inho X Reader

wc: 2k

a/n: ...ok sike I'm posting this now!! Ahh I love writing this reader sm, thank you for all the love on my work!!

pt 1 ¦ masterlist ¦ pt 3

Gi-hun thrashed around on his bed from his nightmare, you patiently watched him with still movements. 

Gi-hun’s eye widened, waking him from his slumber. He glanced around the room as classical music played. 

“Good morning!” You smiled at the man, who flinched at your presence. “Morning, you scared me.” He sighed and held a hand over his heart, trying to calm his heart rate down; Ignoring his words you sat down on his bed but his feet.

“Nightmare?” You questioned, your smiling slowly dropping. He looked unsure at you before nodding. “I have a weird feeling about the next game…” He confessed making you tilt your head at him, before you could speak his friend, jung-bae popped up beside his bed and sleepily smiled at him.

“Triangle today!”

Gi-hun nodded before getting up and followed as everyone walked to the confusing stairwell to the next game.

In-ho joined you all on the stairs he greeted everyone, you notice his gaze stayed on you for a brief moment before turning to gi-hun. 

“Great...you lived another day... ” You scoffed at the man, brushing past him to catch up to gi-hun.

- - - - - - - - - - -

You frowned at the new room, it had been decorated as if it was a school field day. You and the others walked out onto the field, noticing the brightly colored circles on the dirt. 

“Welcome to your second game, this game will require teams of five; we will give you all ten minutes to find a team!” The announcement rang over the intercom. Everyone had turned to gi-hun.

“Dalgona is a team game?” Jung-bae asked, confused.

“The big man must’ve caught on…” You muttered, earning a small hidden smirk from in-ho.

“Aren’t we playing the dalgona game?” Player 100 asked, walking up to your group. “No, it doesn’t look like it..” Gi-hun shook his head. “What’s the game then?” The old man scoffed. 

“I’m not sure.” Gi-hun’s eyes fell to the dirt. You glared at the old man as he got riled up. “What do you mean? I thought you said you’ve played these games before, was that all bullshit?!” 

“I’m sorry.” Gi-hun apologized, making player 100 scoff, “Sorry won’t cut it!” 

You quickly pushed your way towards the old man and glared at him. “He told you the information he had and you were ungrateful about that; No one forced you to gain a debt of ten billion won! Or to continue playing these games!” You looked the player up and down before scoffing at him.

“Greedy old bastard!” You muttered, watching as him and others walked away grumbling something about you.

You watched with hateful eyes as they walked away. Gi-hun turned to you and bowed his head. “Thank you for that.” 

You quickly smiled at the man. “It’s not a problem, remember i’m going to protect you from now on!” You sighed happily before clinging to his arm.

In-ho felt hatred boil inside of him as you hung off gi-hun’s arm, babbling about the possible games. “I’m sorry.” Gi-hun apologized to the other three. “I still trust you, i’d like to play the game with you, if that’s ok.” 

“All right let’s be real men and give it a shot, there all children games right..” Jung-bae sighed. “That’s right sirs, and miss, i’d also like you join you all. I feel like i can do anything with you.” Dae-ho smiled at gi-hun.

“Right, it’d be embarrassing for marines to be carving dalgona anyways..” Jung-bae wrapped his arm around dae-ho like a proud father.

You smiled and rolled your eyes at the pair, before glancing around the room. In-ho stared at you, sighing he acted as if he was looking around the room. “Why don’t you go and try to ask the other teams of their ideas of what the games could be.” In-ho asked, looking directly at you, making you raise an eyebrow at him.

“That’s not a bad idea..” Gi-hun agreed, making you sigh before unwrapping yourself from gi-hun’s arm. “I’ll be back then!” You smiled at gi-hun before walking to another team.

Once you were gone in-ho turned to dae-ho. “We need to find another team mate.” 

The three men looked at in-ho confused. In-ho sighed and motioned toward you, “She’s not mentally well, the way she interacts with others shows it…badly, and if we’re to work as a team she could screw us and get us all killed.” He explained, making dae-ho nodded before taking off to find another team mate.

Gi-hun watched confused as in-ho kept his gaze on your back.

- - - - - - - - - - -

You happily walked back to your group but stopped as you saw them all standing together with another girl, you scoffed and went to approach them but was stopped by a deep voice behind you.

“Yo senorita, looking for a team?” Thanos grinned as he looked you up and down.

You stared blankly at the purple haired man before sighing. “You’ll do.” You brushed him and walked to his group. As the timer ran out you stared at gi-hun with hurt filled eyes. 

You all had sat together in a line and began to assign games to one another. “How did you do at ddakji with that guy?” Thanos asked you, leaning over nam-gyu. “I didn’t play anything with him..” You confessed earning looks of confusion from the others before shrugging it off to find another game for you.

“Gong-gi?” Nam-gyu, player 124 suggested. You scoffed and raised your slightly bruised hand. “Injury.” They all signed, you were a challenge for the team…

You groaned as the workers chained your legs together. Player 124 held out his hand for you to hold while waiting. “Don’t touch me, druggie!” You scoffed and slid your hand into your jacket pocket.

A small grin grew on your face as you pulled out gi-hun’s implant, you had looked up and saw their groups eyes were on your team, you waved at gi-hun before kissing the implant, carefully placing it back in your pocket.

Gi-hun shivered at your action, In-ho kept his stare as you finally locked arms with 124 and 380.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Once your team had passed, you were all lead back to the dorms. You sighed as you followed your new group towards their bunks. You sat down on the steps that lead up to the bunks. “I’m so tired now.” Player 124 yawned, stretching out before facing you four.

After a bit you all had noticed workers taking away some of the bunks but majority stayed the same. You sighed, glancing around the room, ignoring the fight between the others. 

“Stop it! What’s your name again?” Thanos questioned, pointing to player 125.

“Min-su.” He shyly announced.

You nodded leaning back on the steps. “How old are you?” Thanos questioned. “I’m 27.” Min-su played with his hands, nervously.

You rolled your eyes as they began to figure out each others ages. “We’ll work better as a team this way. How old are you?” Thanos lightly tapped your back with his foot, making you turn and glare at him. “Do that again and I will make those pink men drag me off your corpse!” You threatened. Thanos nodded, slowly moving his foot back and nodded to the others. “We’ll all assume she’s the oldest.” 

The sound of the door opening made everyone look over. In had walked gi-hun and the others, you perked up with a smile before waiting for them to all settle in.

“Damn it, too many people are alive!” Nam-gyu groaned, throwing his head back.

You smiled as you got up from the steps and bounced over to the others. 

“It’s cute for you all to think i’d die so easily!” You giggled, sitting down in between gi-hun and in-ho. “I’m surprised you made it.” In-ho muttered, scooting over to make room for you.

“Thankfully, I had my good luck charm!” You grinned as you pulled out gi-hun’s implant from your pocket. Dae-ho and jung-bae grimace at the fake tooth in your palm. “It’s kept me alive for so long already, like in the first game, gi-hun saved me from that one tramp who stepped on my hand.” You sighed, placing the bruised hand on top of gi-hun’s leg.

“Help me?” You pouted, a soft scoff made you whip around to stare at the girl who had been on their team. “Why are you here?” You quickly stood up and walked over to her, gi-hun quickly got up and blocked your way to the player. “I’m on their team.” She quietly explained.

“She needed our help, she didn’t have a team and she’s expecting..” Gi-hun explained, standing protectively in front of the other girl. You scoffed at gi-hun who stared at you with a straight expression. “First you all left me without a team, now you’re defending a random girl?!” You laughed, looking at all the groups mixed expressions before walking back to thanos and the others.

- - - - - - - - - - -

You quietly watched as the manager filled up the piggy bank with more money before bring out the voting machine.

With silent footsteps you approached thanos and the others. “What are we voting?” You asked, your expression a bit stern. Min-su flinched as you appeared over his shoulder. “That money barely covers any of our debt…O!” Thanos explained before making an O with his arms.

You nodded as players began to go up and vote. Throughout the vote you had ignored the others eyes on you through the vote.

Once your number was called, you smirked and sautered to the machine before turning to look at gi-hun with a lost look. He sighed and made an X with his hands, dae-ho joining him. You tiled your head and slammed your palm onto the O button, his face dropped as you smirked and ripped your badge off before skipping towards your new group.

“She’s easily influenced by her emotions..” In-ho commented to gi-hun.

You smirked as gi-hun stared defeated as they were now outvoted. You sighed happily before walking to your bunk. 

- - - - - - - - - - -

Se-mi, player 380 stopped in front of your bunk, min-su not far behind her. “Coming to get food?” SHe questioned, you nodded and got up from the bed and joined the line. You watched as the two stood in the second line, quickly moving to the front, leaving you in the back. 

“You voted to stay…why?” 

You turned and rolled your eyes at in-ho. “To keep us all here, together.” You smirked at him before turning back to face the font of the line. 

“Upset frontman has seemingly rejected you?” 

His words ran over you like cold water. You whipped around and stared at the man with furrowed brows. “Frontman?” You questioned. He chuckled in response. “The one in control of these game, the one you’ve been sending weird obsessive letters too.” 

You seethed at his words, you gripped him by his collar of the green jacket. “What are you? Private investigator?A stalker?!” You growled at him. He loosened your grip and held your wrists. “I know a lot about you.” He smirked before letting you go and moved to join the other line, leaving you lost, confused and a bit aroused.

You kept the conversation in your mind as you walked to se-mi and the others. “What did that old bastard want?” Nam-gyu questioned, opening his milk. “For me to be his wife.” You stared at the man before opening your small bread.

“The next game we need to stick together.” Thanos announced, making you all nod. As you ate in silence you stopped chewing feeling a weird sensation in your mouth, you quickly spat out the food and froze at the pink rolled up paper.

You looked to make sure none of the group had glanced in your direction. You quickly unfolded the paper and began to giggle at the note.

“Like a lovesick puppy to that loser…You promised yourself to me; Was it a lie?”

You smiled as you held the note to your chest, you looked back to the camera and smiled before blowing a kiss.

Across the room In-ho had spotted you blowing kisses to the cameras, you had gotten his note after all. It’d only be a short time before you got back on track and fell for him once more.

taglist: @lucinda-reads @eminems4ev3rgirl @lanyia

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Drunk on You

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader 

summary: After losing a bet, Frank's drunk night turns into a nightmare when he accidentally leaves a VERY honest voicemail on your phone. (Prompt: "I need to see your phone.")

warnings: swearing, excessive drinking (do NOT do this.), Frank being affectionate

a/n: This wasn't requested by anyone, I just saw this prompt and immediately pictured Frank freaking out about a voicemail he left on someone's phone. A huge shout out to @gracethyomen and @madschiavelique who I forced into beta-ing this for me multiple times. As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated. Thank you!

w/c: 6k (Yah, i know. I got carried away.)

Frank liked to think that he was decently romantic—so it was almost embarrassing that your relationship happened by accident. 

He didn’t possess a natural charm, like the one that Red always flaunted, but he could usually hold his own when he found someone attractive. Before…everything, his cocky attitude and unjustified youthful arrogance helped him flirt with Maria. Since the loss of his family, flirting was more of a pastime. Until you. 

From the moment you both met, Frank had known that you were different—that you were never meant to be a casual fling. It terrified him, at first, but after many many lectures from Curtis, he was ready to try a relationship again. 

Despite that fact, he could never seem to get the words out. 

Flirting with you was as easy as pulling a trigger, but being honest and open about his feelings? Never his strong suit. He was just thankful that Curtis believed in boundaries and David was oblivious, otherwise you would’ve gotten the news through the grapevine weeks before he blurted it out. 

It all started when David scolded him.

“Language, Castle. This is a family establishment.” His stern tone was completed with a pointed finger.

The two men were seated on opposite sides of the Lieberman’s sturdy dining room table, on the precipice of one of their classic “Family Dinner Spats”–a term Curtis had coined exasperatedly a few weekly meals ago. You, Sarah, and Curt were also currently at the table, nursing your wine while the kids played video games in the living room.

Smirking at David's tone, you raised a brow at the curly haired man. “Can you really call your suburban house an ‘establishment’?”

Frank chuckled at your attempt to defend him, his lips parting around the lip of his beer bottle in a smug smile.

“The house has been established, and there is a family present.” David snapped at you with a no-nonsense look. Looking at his wife incredulously, he threw his hands in a vague gesture. “C’mon Sarah, back me up!”

Sarah shrugged at him, grinning at his defeated groan. Shooting you and Frank a knowing look, she murmured, “We’ve all heard worse.“

Desperate for someone to agree with him, David glanced across the table pleadingly. “Curtis? C’mon man.”

Sighing, Curtis nodded, his lips twitching in a tiny smile. “You do have a foul mouth, Frank. There are children present.”

Frank scoffed, gesturing widely to the two teenagers in the other room.

Crinkling your nose as you stifled a laugh, you nodded solemnly. “They sort of have a point, Frank. Your vocabulary could make a sailor blush.”

Finally vindicated, David crowed, “You practically only speak in curses and grunts!”

The marine gaped. “Christ, I am not that bad.”

Smelling a game, David’s eyes glinted with mischief. “Oh yah? I bet you couldn’t go a week without swearing.

Sarah and Curtis took the vague challenge, and Frank’s responding bitter laugh, as their cue to leave the table, murmuring about cleaning up after dinner and chuckling to each other as they left. You, unfortunately, were far too intrigued to remove yourself from the conversation.

Good thing you were entertained, because David was far from finished with his accusations. “You know what? I don’t think you could even last a single day without that sinfully filthy language of yours, Castle.”

Frank rolled his eyes, but his jaw was tense. “Ya gonna make me a swear jar, Lieberman? What are you, my ma?”

David shrugged, pleased at how easily he was able to get under the hulking man’s skin. “Someone has to teach you some manners.”

You tapped a finger on your chin, meeting David’s roguish gaze. “He’s right though, a swear jar would never compel him to change.”

David crossed his arms. “And you have a better suggestion?”

Frank glanced at you, brow raised in curiosity, lips pursed.

You grinned manically. “Maybe a drinking game? Every curse word he says within 24 hours means he takes a shot.”

The technician erupted in bellowing laughter. “YES!”

Ignoring him, Frank smirked at you. “Tryin’ to get me drunk, sweetheart?”

You placed a hand over your heart in mock surprise. “Don’t tell me you’re chicken, Frankie.”

The large man bristled, straightening his posture as he shook his head. “Course not.”

David was glowing. “So you accept?”

“Uh—“ Frank’s hesitation was quickly settled by your adorable expression, your head tilted at him as you anticipated his next move. “Fuck, I guess.”

Practically screeching, David pointed a finger at the man, looking at you excitedly. “Oh my god, that counts right? That totally counts!”

Laughing as David practically began a victory dance, you raised your glass of wine. ”Let the game begin!”

What had he gotten himself into?

Unfortunately for his liver, the next 24 hours did not get easier.

With the combined efforts of you, Curtis, David, and the various CCTV systems of New York city, the tally landed at 52 curses in 24 hours.

“Holy shit, Frank,” You gaped at the final count, turning to him with wide eyes. “Were you even trying?”

Frank glowered, sinking further into the booth next to you. “Yes.”

“Well, we’re gonna need to change these rules a bit. Otherwise, you’ll need a transplant by next week.” You frowned, eyes glowing with the light of David’s computer screen.

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft now, doll.” Frank muttered, the corner of his lips lifting up against his will.

“I’m always soft on you, tough guy.”Your words were earnest, causing Frank's throat to constrict. You raised a hand to pinch his cheek, seemingly unperturbed by his furious blush.

As if knowing he was ruining the moment, David returned to the table with a tray of half a dozen shot glasses. “Who’s ready to get wasted?”

Groaning, Frank dropped his head into his hands—his stomach already churning.

“New rules:” You announced, “No more than 7 drinks an hour.”

“Woah woah woah, who died and made you referee?” David scoffed.

“Everyone who has ever taken 52 shots in one night.” You retorted, refusing to change your mind.

While David began placing a row of tiny glasses in front of him, you took one of Frank's calloused hands in your much more delicate one. He raised his head to meet your serious gaze. “Hey, you do not have to do this. It was a stupid bet.” You were chewing on your bottom lip, his hand itched to cup your face and smooth the furrow in your brow.

“Um, he does so have to do this! I already put my card down. Drink up, asshole!” As David shoved the alcohol towards him, your arm shot out, acting as a barricade.

Looking at him with an inquisitive concern, you stroked your thumb over his knuckles. With a sigh, Frank grasped one of the shots between two fingers, downing it with a grimace.

David cheered. “Thattaboy! Drink up!!”

Biting your lip, you slid a single shot towards yourself and one to David. “If he’s going to do this, he’s not doing it alone. Drink up, Lieberman.” You teased, parroting his words before downing your own shot with a grace that was shocking and incredibly attractive. 

“Damn, that’s smooth. You shelled out for us.” You snorted, setting the shit glass back on the sticky table. 

Pouting at the tiny cup of clear liquid, David groaned. “I haven’t had tequila since college.”

“Sounds like you made a poor choice of beverage then. Drink!” You grinned at him, face warming as Frank slid an arm around your shoulders.

“She’s gotta point, Lieberman. You’ve dug your own grave. I ain’t drinkin’ another drop until you take that.” Frank smirked, eyes dancing with a mirth that you’d been missing.

“C’mon David!” You encouraged, the curly-haired man across from you finally nodding and downing the drink with a gag.

You and Frank cheered, laughing as he coughed in the aftermath.

“Alright, it’s gone. Your turn.” David nodded to the three remaining shots, crossing his arms impatiently.

Huffing out a breath, Frank tossed all three back, chasing the acrid taste with a swig of the beer he’d purchased himself without thinking. “There, ya fuckin’ happy now?”

“Thrilled.” David laughed. “We’re going to wait…15 minutes, and then I’m going to hustle you in pool.” Setting a timer on his watch, the engineer missed Frank’s exaggerated eye roll.

“Doesn’t a hustle require one party to not know they’re being hustled?” You asked, settling into Frank’s side with a smile.

“I could kick your ass with my eyes closed, Lieberman.” Frank snorted.

“Oh please, it's all geometry–I'm a whiz at geometry.”

Listening to them bicker, you couldn't help but smile. Sipping your beer, you crossed your legs, excited for the upcoming show.

As Frank's inhibitions grew steadily lower, you were joined at the booth by Curtis and Karen–both of whom were humored by the giant man's state, but not free of their own worry.

“Y’all trying to kill him?” Curtis chuckled, eyes focused on Frank's uncharacteristically wide grin as he slid into the booth across from you, beer in hand.

“Trust me, I’ve been negotiating Lieberman down all night to spare his intestines.” You huffed, your own gaze fixated on Frank as he lined up his next shot at the pool table, muscles bulging against his tight shirt as he bent over.

“See something you like?” Karen asked gleefully, lips curled in a smirk.

“Shut up,” You hissed, squirming in your seat as your body was hit with a flash of warmth.

“He's not making this easy for you, is he?” Curtis chuckled, sending Karen a knowing look.

“Does he always get so…touchy when he’s drunk?” You asked quietly, trying not to salivate as you got a perfect view of Frank's ass, his back turned towards you as he played his next turn.

Letting out a bark of laughter, Curtis shook his head at you.

“Oh stop it,” You groused, ignoring your friends' giggles as you slid off of the vinyl bench and made straight for the bar.

“Um whiskey. Neat, please.” You stammered out your order to the bartender, trying not to cringe at how disjointed the words sounded. Your mind was entirely preoccupied by the feelings you harbored for the man currently guffawing behind you. The scraping of glass on wood startled you out of your daydream.

Taking the glass from the bartender, trying not to meet their gaze as they eyed you suspiciously, you nodded a thank you.

Before you could return to your seat, a thick arm wrapped around your shoulders--a sensation that would've been horrifying had it not been accompanied by a familiar voice.

“When did ya start drinkin’ whiskey?” Frank's deep rasp ignited a heat deep in your gut, stealing the words straight off your tongue.

”I-I, uh didn't,“ You squeaked out, shoving the glass to Frank's chest. “I figured you’d want something other than mid-shelf tequila.” Looking up at him through thick lashes, your breath caught in your throat as you met his stare.

Frank's lips were tilted in a small smile, the tension he normally carried in his jaw nowhere to be found. His cheeks were flushed, his hair mussed from running his hands through it throughout the night. Boring into you, his beautiful ochre eyes crinkled with a happiness you rarely saw from the man.

A rough knuckle tipped your jaw upwards, shutting your mouth, which had apparently been hanging open as you admired the figure before you. “Somethin' on my face, sweetheart?”

Tilting his head, his eyes twinkled, his smile growing wider as you remained silent. “No, Frankie.”

“Good. C'mon, I need someone to cheer for me when I whup Lieberman's ass for a third time.” Frank snorted, pressing a kiss to your crown before taking your hand and dragging you towards the pool table.

The rest of the night flew by, a symptom of the intense focus you held on Frank's relaxed drunken nature. He'd been tipsy with you before, so you'd caught glimpses of this behavior from the man previously, but it would always catch you off guard to see him so...easygoing.

It wasn't that Frank wasn't affectionate, he was incredibly sweet, he just wasn't usually so forthcoming with his emotions. Nor was he normally content snuggling with you in public.

Rubbing his nose against your hair, Frank gave a sleepy hum before pulling back to down the rest of the ice water you'd forced into his grasp. His hand was gently gripping your waist, thumb tracing lines over your hip as your friends chatted. Frank was much too tired to be paying any attention, and your ability to retain any conversation topic flew out the window the moment his hand landed on your side.

Watching as his free hand lifted to clumsily scrub at his face, you frowned. “Wanna call it a night, Frank? You look ready to drop.”

“'M fine.” He grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. Shit, you'd hoped the water would stave off the impending headache for now.

“The kid's right.” David remarked, smirking at your offended scoff. “If I'm beat, you must be half dead. I'll go close the tab."

"Can the rest of you make it home ok if I handle this one?" You asked, kneading at Frank's neck as he dropped his head to your shoulder with a grumpy huff.

"Yah, we can get David home in one piece." Karen promised, squeezing Frank's arm as she passed. "Goodnight."

"Ok, tough guy. You gotta get out so I can get out," You murmured, nudging the marine as carefully as possible.

Grumbling under his breath, he slid out of the booth, grabbing the table as he listed sideways.

"Christ, Frankie. Hold on, I gotcha." You grunted as he leaned against you, his weight shifting you off balance. Wrapping an arm around his waist in a motion similar to the one he'd made mere minutes ago, you shuffled towards the door. "Ok, Castle, you gotta work with me a little bit here."

As the two of you neared the exit, you heard an indignant squawk from the bar. "I OWE HOW MUCH??"

Chuckling softly, Frank's skull knocked against yours. "We'd better get outta here, sweetheart."

The two of you made it back to Frank's tiny apartment without incident, though the man was stumbling all the way. When you reached his front door, he snatched his keys from his pocket, tossing them at you without a word. 

Not expecting the projectile, the ring of keys hit you square in the chest, your chin following them as they crashed to the grimy carpet underneath your feet. Looking at Frank with narrowed eyes, you raised an eyebrow. “Was that really necessary?”

Frank chuckled quietly, his laugh as close to a giggle as it would probably ever get. His half-lidded eyes creased as he grinned at you. “Sorry,” The apology was undercut by the shit-eating expression on his face. 

“Drag your ass all the way home, breaking my back doing so–mind you,” You complained halfheartedly, your chest swelling with fondness as Frank’s raspy laughs continued. “And you just throw your shit at me.” 

Shaking your head, you let your smile betray you as he kissed your forehead. “You’re unbelievable, Castle.” 

“Thanks for puttin’ up with me.” His stubble scratched your skin as he spoke, his lips still resting against your temple. 

“Anytime, big guy.” Your eyes fell closed as his hand rubbed over your lower back.

After a minute, Frank spoke again. “Are ya gonna open the door, or am I gonna have to sleep in the hallway?” 

“Jesus Christ.” You groused, breaking out of his hold to squat down and grab his keys.

Just like that, Frank was back in stitches, shifting his weight to the door frame as his body shook with near silent laughter.

Shoving the key in the lock, you opened the door and shoved at him gently. "Get in there, goofball."

Shuffling inside, Frank beelined for the couch, collapsing onto it with his boots still on. Rolling your eyes, you followed him in, crouching by his feet to start unlacing his shoes.

Wriggling on his stomach, he craned his neck to look at you. “Whattya doin'?”

“Taking your shoes off, Frankie.” You explained without stopping your actions.

Grumbling, he flapped an arm at you clumsily. “Leave 'em.”

Huffing with exasperated affection, you ignored him. "You'll be more comfortable if I take them off, Frank."

You received a disgruntled noise in response, but his arm stopped moving. Face squashed against a throw pillow, his eyes were closed and his pink lips were parted--soft breaths slipping in and out of them every so often.

Finally pulling his second boot off, you sat back on your heels with a satisfied sigh. Standing as quietly as you could, you strode to the tidy kitchen.

Given that you were well-acquainted with Frank's place, you moved around the apartment with ease, finding the sparse first aid kit that he possessed and making a mental note to bring some supplies by soon. Sure, Frank would manage—he was the most capable man you'd ever met—but you wanted to make his life easier in any way you could.

Which is why you grabbed a few individually wrapped pain pills and placed them on the coffee table, along with a glass of water. Now for the difficult part.

"Frank, I know you're comfy like this but you have to turn to your side for me." You spoke softly, running a hand up his arm and pushing in the direction he needed to turn.

"Hngh..." Frank protested sleepily. "Why?"

Stifling a smile at the grumpy face he made, you continued to push. "C'mon, you big baby. On your side, so you don't choke and die overnight."

Huffing frustratedly, Frank flopped onto his side, glaring at you.

“Thank you. Do you need a blanket?” You asked, laughing indignantly when he flipped you off. “That was an actual question, asshole.”

Standing up, you took a step towards the worn armchair on the other side of the coffee table, nearly tumbling over when a force tugged on your wrist. Eyes closed again, Frank was poorly hiding a smile as he yanked your arm towards him with more strength than his inebriated self should have been capable of. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you feeling nice now?” You grumbled, balancing your weight over him precariously as you tried to escape his hold.

Tugging your arm again, Frank muttered a jumble of grouchy nonsense.

“Christ, Frank.” You snorted, rolling your eyes to the ceiling before sliding your palms underneath his shoulders to shift him over. Squishing onto the couch next to his head, you found yourself smiling as he wriggled towards you, settling his head into your lap with a relieved exhale. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a piece of work when you’re drunk?”

Your murmur was more for yourself than for him, but he responded nonetheless. “M’ria.”

It was far from the first time he’d spoken to you about his late wife, but hearing her name fall from his lips when he was in such a vulnerable state felt like a swift punch to the gut. Regaining your composure, you threaded your fingers into his hair. “Go to sleep, Frankie.”

As your nails softly scratched at his scalp, darkness crept into the corners of his vision, his eyes fluttering closed again.

The next few hours passed like fractions of a dream. A warm pliant surface beneath his cheek, a cool hand running through his hair. A whispered conversation and hushed groans. A loss of contact.

Somewhere in the haze of alcohol-induced fatigue, Curtis appeared, taking over your role as his babysitter. Curt was good at taking care of him...he was a lot less pretty than you were, though.

“Christ, I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that.” Curtis griped, insulted by comment Frank hadn't intended to share, shoving a bottle of some form of sports drink at him. “Drink this.”

Scowling, Frank took a long swig. As he was gulping down the sugary liquid, his eyes locked on a piece of fabric draped over the back of the couch. Setting the drink down, and nearly spilling it all over himself in the process, he grabbed clumsily for the coat, clutching it to his chest when his fingers finally landed around it. ”She forgot it.“

”What?“ Curtis, rubbing a knuckle between his brows, looked unamused.

”Her coat, Curt.“ Frank whispered, holding it out to show the other man. ”We gotta find her. She forgot it. It's winter.“

Shaking his head with a huff, Curtis dropped his head into his hands. ”I'm sure she'll be fine without it for a night. Go to sleep, Frank.“

Frank frowned, still focused on the piece of plastic in his hands.

Grappling his pocket, he eventually pulled out his phone and flipped it open, squinting at the bright screen as it powered on. Scrolling through the list of contacts, he found the one he wanted and dialed.

”Frank,“ Curtis sighed, but didn't stop him from calling you.

Receiving your voicemail, Frank groaned. “Sweetheart, you better not be frozen to death out there somewhere. You left your coat here. You gotta come and get it, ok? I don't want you to be cold.”

”Hang up and sleep, Castle.“ Called the medic from Frank's bedroom. When had he gone in there?

Ignoring his friend's explicit instructions, Frank sighed. “Please come back. I like having you here. You just...you take such good care of me, and I really don't deserve it, but you do it anyways, and--” The phone was snatched out of his hand.

“Frank says goodnight.” Curtis snapped into the phone before ending the call.

“Hey!” Frank glowered, fumbling for Curtis's hand to take the device back.

“Go to sleep, Frank. You can talk to her tomorrow. Trust me, you'll be grateful I took this away when you've sobered up. You don't need to be spilling your secrets to her over voicemail.“ Spreading a blanket over Frank, Curtis glared at him. ”Close your eyes, Marine. I am not playing games with you tonight.“

Rolling to his other side so that Curtis couldn't see him, he smirked at the other man's final snort. ”Real mature, Frank. I'm taking your bed. I'll be out to check on you every once in a while.“

As Curtis retreated into the other room, Frank waited impatiently, staring at the back of the couch until he heard a door close. Grinning in satisfaction, he withdrew his burner phone from his other pocket, opening it up and inputting your number.

“Sorry, Curt hung up the phone. I wasn't done talking to ya. I like talkin' to ya, it makes me feel...god, I'm bad at this. I dunno, sweetheart, you make me feel good...special. I haven't felt that way in a long damn time. But you just make it seem so easy. You make everything seem so easy...”

The intense rolling of his stomach is what ruptured his unconsciousness, igniting a spark of adrenaline powerful enough to carry him to the bathroom so he could collapse in front of the toilet.

God, he felt fucking awful. His head was pulsing with the beginnings of a migraine, his throat burned with acid as he emptied his stomach repeatedly. Moaning with regret, he slapped the lever to flush the toilet, sinking back against the cool porcelain of the bathtub behind him.

“Was wondering when that would happen. David owes me 20 bucks.” Curtis leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom with his arms crossed, smirking at Frank's evident misery.

“Glad I could help.” Frank muttered, digging the heel of his hand into one of his eyes in an attempt to offset some of the building pressure in his skull.

“You look like shit.” Curtis chuckled, passing him a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers.

“Fuck off.” Frank grumbled, rinsing out his mouth before throwing back a few pills.

“Well, clearly you're feeling more like yourself. Christ.” Curtis snorted.

“God, Curt, what happened last night?” Frank grimaced. 

“Besides you drinking enough to kill a racehorse? Not much. Unless you count me discovering your collection of burner phones as ‘interesting’.”

Curtis’s words were innocuous, but Frank felt a wave of dread crash over him at the implications. 

“What collection?“ He asked mournfully, hoping fiercely that Curt didn’t mean–

“The one you were using to call your girl.” Fuck. “Every time I turned around, there was a new phone in your hands. Can't say I didn't try to stop you from making an ass of yourself, you just managed to do it anyway.”

“Fuck!” Frank cursed. That was exactly what he was hoping to avoid. “Please tell me you're jokin'.”

“Unfortunately not, Frank.“ The other man laughed, but his brow pinched in sympathy. “You're gonna have some explaining to do, I expect.”

“Fuck me. What did I say?” He looked to his friend pleadingly, feeling like his impending doom was perched just over his shoulders.

“I didn't catch all of it, but the parts I heard were pretty damning.” Curtis rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding Frank’s intense eyes.

Mustering the dwindling energy he had, Frank lurched to his feet, stumbling towards the door. Thankfully, Curtis caught him when his balance faltered after a few steps.

“Woah, shit, Frank! Where are you goin'?” Curtis chastised preemptively, letting Frank lean against him as he ambled to the foyer.

“To apologize, or delete that message. Whatever needs to be done.” Frank’s jaw was stiff, his voice gruff with fear and discomfort. Undraping his arm from Curt’s shoulders, Frank bent down to grab his boots, halting as the motion caused a spike of pain to shoot through his brain. Clenching his fingers around his thighs, he bit his tongue to keep from hurling again.

“Jesus, Frank. This isn't a goddamn military operation.” Curt scoffed, kicking Frank’s shoes closer to him with a grunt.

Frank huffed a bitter laugh. “You're right, that would be easier.” Squatting down, Frank shoved his boots on and laced them up.

“You need serious help, you know that?” Curtis sighed, only waiting a moment before slipping his own shoes on. “C'mon. I'll drive you.”

Tipping your chin up, you let the final dregs of your latte trickle across your tongue, silently begging for those few drops to contain the caffeine you'd need for the rest of the day. You were practically giddy with lack of sleep and the immense amount of sugar you'd dumped into the coffee to make it palatable–you weren't used to so many extra espresso shots.

After looking out for Frank at the bar, wrangling him on the journey home, leaving abruptly to accompany your distraught roommate and her accident-prone boyfriend to the hospital, and then staying with said roommate all night while her boyfriend got a cast put over his broken arm–you were understandably exhausted. And, if you were honest with yourself, a bit aggravated that you'd been ripped away from Frank when he was so unusually receptive to your affection.

It wasn't as if you could just call Curtis and ask to switch roles again, it was almost noon. Frank would probably be up and hungover by now–far grouchier than the cuddly lump he'd become last night when he passed out on your lap. No use to mourn that loss any further, you supposed. It wouldn't be that hard to make him agree to another bet, after all. 

Lounging on the couch, your eyes slipped shut for a moment, flying open in shock when you heard a knock at the door. Of course someone would show up right after you sat down. Inhaling deeply to keep from groaning, you dragged yourself off of the couch and to the door. Huh, speak of the devil.

Unlatching the door, you rested a hand on your hip as you took in the posture of the man before you. Frank looked awful, a perfect example of the saying “green around the gills”. He was slouched forward, barely meeting your gaze, and his complexion was so alarmingly pale that it was more translucent. Before you could ask what the hell he was doing on your doorstep, he spoke.

“I need to see your phone.” His tone was pained and especially gravelly, which made sense given how hungover he must be right now.

“Damn, Castle. Hello to you too.” You laughed, the humor of it not fully reaching your eyes as concern churned in your gut. Stepping out of the way, you allowed him to stride past you into the apartment. 

Looking over his shoulder at you sheepishly, he cringed. “Sorry, hi. Your phone?”

Well he’s clearly on a mission. You had to admit, you were curious what he was so riled up about. 

Your eyes narrowing, you gestured to where it sat on the counter, anchored by its designated cord. “It's charging. It died while I was running around last night and I just got home, so.” Frowning in confusion, you picked it up to show him. 

“Thank god.” Frank let his face fall into his palms, collapsing onto your couch. 

“Why do you need my phone, Frank?” Intrigue still piqued, you flicked a thumb across the screen to activate your phone.

Realizing he’d made a fatal error in his anguished haze, Frank swiveling in his seat, craning his neck just in time to see a massive grin break out across your face. “Shit wait–”

“Jesus Frank, are you ok? Why did you call me so many times?” You laughed, scrolling through the myriad of notifications you’d apparently missed from him. 

“Sweetheart I'm begging you–” Standing on his wobbly legs, he hurried to remove the device from your hands, but it was too late.

“You left multiple voicemails?” You looked at him with an almost pompous smile, clearly taking satisfaction in his downfall.

“Please don’t–” He made for your phone, but his reflexes were lacking. Spinning just out of his reach, you raised the phone above your head victoriously.

“Voicemail number one!” You announced proudly, pressing play on the recording. 

Frank’s voice sounded tinny through the small speakers, or maybe it was just being drowned out by the ringing in his ears. “You forgot your coat…”

“Aw, Frank, that's so sweet!” You spoke over the short message, your lip sticking out slightly as you looked at him with gratitude.

Stepping towards you with his palms displayed, he tried for a placating tone. “Yup. That was all, no need to listen to any more of–”

“Voicemail number 2!” You crowed, darting out of the kitchen as he grabbed wildly for the offending phone once more. 

“Sorry, Curt hung up the phone...”

“This ain't funny.” Frank growled, scurrying after you into the living room “Turn those off!” 

“You left them for me!” You giggled, holding the phone to your ear and squealing with delight at his first confession.

“You make everything seem so easy–”

“Aw, Frank–”

“It's so hard for me to focus when you're around–”

By the grace of some higher power, his drunk rambling cut off. Nearly keeling over, he leaned heavily against the back of your couch. “Thank Christ.”

“VOICEMAIL NUMBER 3!” You said gleefully, practically dancing with joy as Frank resumed chasing you.

“Goddamn it.” He muttered. He should have known he wasn’t that lucky.

“I can't stop thinkin' about ya–”

His words were coming back to him now, and it was crystal clear that he had very limited time to retrieve the phone before your relationship with him was irreparably damaged. Nearly bowling your coffee table over, he managed to snatch the hem of your sweatshirt, but you simply slipped out of it and resumed your lap of the space. 

“I can never stop thinkin about ya–”

You leapt onto the couch and over the arm, making for your bedroom. How on earth were you this agile after last night? He was pretty sure this would be the last thing he ever did. 

“I hope you made it home safe–”

You stumbled around your bed frame and Frank saw an opening. 

“You shoulda stayed here with me–”

His eyes narrowed, vision tunneling like a predator’s. Frank bounded forward and your eyes widened as you realized he had you cornered.

“I'll always keep you safe–”

Finally, he arrived within the distance he needed, snatching you by the waist and spinning you into him. Your chests were pressed together, quivering with the force of labored breaths, but before he could hit the power button– 

“Cause, I dunno, I just love ya, sweetheart. I'd never let anythin' happen to ya.”

His world blurred, his heart pounding so aggressively it felt like it was creeping out of his rib cage. It was done. It was over.

Panting, you looked up at him with a furrowed brow. His heart sank as he watched the realization crawl across your face. 

“You...you love me?” You asked meekly as Frank took a step away from you.

His entire body felt like it was on fire, he couldn’t decide whether he needed to scream or be sick. An apology roosted on his tongue, but his mouth was too dry for the words to come out.

“You love me.” You murmured, looking at the phone as if it would explain his words for you.

“I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinkin'–” He choked out, scrambling backwards sloppily so that he wouldn’t witness your pity.

“Frank–” You spoke softly, the sympathetic edge to your words cutting his composure like a blade.

“Christ, I'll just go, I'm sorry–” He whispered, his throat tightening with immense regret.

“Frank” Your fingers suddenly wrapped around his wrist, turning him back to face you. He inhaled deeply, bracing himself for the rejection and subsequent loss of connection that he’d stupidly caused. But it never came. 

Instead, your free hand cupped his neck, pulling his lips to meet yours. His knees wavered, nearly giving out as your soft lips met his. He was bombarded with surprise and affection and relief. Pulling back from him, you rubbed a finger over his nape and smiled softly.

“I love you too.”

“You–” He was too shocked to even ask a full question. His knees finally gave out and he fell against you. 

“Woah, careful there, tough guy.” You chuckled, nudging him backwards so that he crumbled onto your mattress instead of taking you both to the ground. 

Listing sideways onto your mattress, he let you prod at his limbs until he was fully seated. Bile was swiftly rising in his throat, but whether it was from the chase or the resulting emotions, he was unsure. Swallowing roughly, he grimaced. 

Biting your lip, you let go of his wrist to stroke your blissfully cool fingers along his cheek. “Let me get you some water, ok? I’ll be right back.”

Eyes falling closed, Frank took a handful of measured breaths, lips twitching with a small smile despite his current agony. You loved him too. He had a feeling that he should be skeptical, but he was experiencing too much to consider that at the moment. For now, he would just accept this outcome, however miraculous it might seem. 

Hearing your soft footsteps back into the room, he opened his eyes–immediately regretting it when his head convulsed with a renewed stab of pain. Moaning softly, he scrunched his eyes shut, bringing his thumbs up to his brows to knead them in the hope it would lessen the ache. 

“Head bothering you?” Your voice was impossibly soft as you knelt by his side, gently prying one of his hands away from his face and pressed a cold glass into it. 

“Yah. Sorry sweetheart, didn’t mean to crash here.”

“Don’t you dare apologize. I already texted Curt and told him you’d be staying here for a bit.” Pulling back your sheets on the other side of the bed, you propped yourself up next to him. “Tired?”

Grumbling affirmatively, Frank tilted his head into your shoulder, rolling as far into you as he could stomach. “But we should probably–”

“We got all the time in the world, sweetheart.” You stroked his stubbled chin languidly, smirking as his expression relaxed beneath your touch. “Just sleep. After last night, we both need it.”

“God, I love you.” He murmured, throwing an arm over your hips and letting you nestle in close. 

You pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I love you too, Frank.” 

Frank made a mental reminder to buy Lieberman a beer the next time they went out. He’d never admit it to David, but he was beyond grateful that his uninhibited self had finally made a move. 

Feeling more content than he had in months, he let himself drift off to the sound of your soft breathing.

Thanks for reading!!

[weepingtalecowboy]

Fanfiction prompt: considering that wind can see ghosts but instead of hiding it he thinks that everyone can see them because everyone has dealt with supernatural forces

Main while the chain is freaking out because wind keeps talking to nobody and telling them that their his friends or the most unhinged statement he is enemies with the stripes guy who always stands menacingly in a corner trying to be cool (fierce deity)

And the chain starts to worry about wind badly because that is not sane behavior

While another part of the chain (particularly twilight) doesn’t take it THIS seriously because he remembers how Colin spent weeks complaining about his imaginary friend not playing with him and that children can be imaginative especially when bored and that only making him a new toy got him to play with his friend again

And that ends up in the chain thinking that wind must be incredibly bored because they walk all day and not letting him explore and play with bugs and they decided to fix it (but quickly realized that they are in the middle of a forest with nothing particularly interesting)

Wind main while has absolutely no idea what to do with the hand made toy lobster (legend definitely can sew like have you seen him and the ton of outfits he has) or the Fact that Wolfie seems particularly persistent to play fetch ..!.,?! What is going on!? (Twilight quickly realized that he is dog shaped and he also feels extremely guilty that wind is only walking with them)

But also he definitely can’t throw it away because the legend clearly put effort into the thing and he does love lobsters

And he would rather die than let the chance pass to play with Wolfie (that guy never has fun and nobody can make him play anything and the look of pure envy from Wild was totally worth it he is Wolfie's new favorite now , screw you wild)

But unfortunately that one extra toy seems to do nothing about Wind's insistence to talk with walls

And Wolfie tries really really hard to be more interesting than the walls ( he is failing because ghosts will always be more interesting )

The second they enter a town every single link with money goes to ransack the entire town for toys

And wind catches on about their concerns with his mental state and realizes that explaining them how he can see ghosts would probably confirm to them he is crazy

He awkwardly takes the toys and rearranges them in a way that every ghost is next to a toy so that the chain can stop complaining about him because now he has the excuse that he is totally talking to his toys and not any other beings or voices or walls

The chain is happy because they can almost always see him talk to the toys and play with them (the dread they feel when he keeps naming them after dead loved ones of them is something but maybe it is just a coincidence)

Then they catch him playing a game and it’s just the lobster who apparently is named after legend and the bird who he named Marin (Wind was totally only re-enacting Marin's story because he is definitely an adult and only doing the logical thing)

Time later sees him with Wild's majora’s mask (that sits with its face turned like it’s trying not to look at someone) while Wind keeps talking about a big guy with stripes on his face and how he tried to be cool when defeating the demon (war flashbacks activated because that stripes guy seems very familiar)

And legend gets an aneurysm because that lobster story strikes way to close to home for him

They take way to long to figure out in this one (they are the heroes of courage not wisdom afterall)

[infriga]

Something really interesting about the Elbaf arc to me is how Oda really hyped the giants up as an ancient powerful warrior race throughout the entire series, but now that we've actually gotten to Elbaf all of that is being deconstructed to a surprising degree, with the locals announcing that they've left behind their violent past and have now dedicated themselves to peace and education. And the way it's set up you'd almost expect it to be treated as a joke twist, but instead it's being treated seriously. And I actually quite like that. Their warrior past isn't being treated as a bad thing by any means, they still respect their retired fighters, but Elbaf has basically taken up Ohara's mantle now.

For a while I was wondering if there was going to be a plot about giants being motivated to return to their former glory as warriors since this is, well, a shounen manga, especially with how much their warrior ways were hyped up throughout the series, though I was kinda hoping it wouldn't go there. But moments like these have actually convinced me that that's not the direction Oda is going with this:

The bad guys in this arc are literally trying to force the giants to fight on the government's behalf against their will. This is very explicitly painting their new dedication to peace and knowledge as an important thing to them that they will need to defend against the villains. And I suspect their race's battle prowess will be portrayed as best used to protect what's important to them, not something to use with abandon like they used to.

I really like this because it makes sense when you think about it. Throughout the series we've seen that despite their natural immense strength giants are often taken advantage of and abused precisely because of that strength, they're seen as a potential useful weapon by the government. Mother Carmel worked with the Marines to deceitfully recruit giant soldiers which likely lead to Saul's recruitment, giants have been captured and sold as high value slaves, Ceasar was hired to try and genetically engineer giants from human children to use as soldiers, Oimo and Kashi were blackmailed into working for cipher pol against their will, Oars's corpse was dug up and reanimated by Moriah and Dr Hogback, etc. Giants have been used and victimized repeatedly throughout the series because of their strength, and it has been used to harm and oppress others many times as well. So it makes sense that they'd start to value peace, and that they'd oppose the government by pursuing, protecting, and spreading knowledge and history. And on top of that the way the government suppresses history, knowledge, and education, has always been portrayed as an extremely bad thing.

What I'm curious about is how Loki will fit into all this. He seems like he's going to be the "princess" of the arc, like Rebecca/Momo/Vivi/etc, and not the antagonist, but he definitely represents the ideals of the old ways of Elbaf and sounds like he was at odds with his father who represented the new ways. This could set him up for character development or a redemption arc of sorts if he ends up taking the throne, since while he apparently wasn't the one who actually killed his father, he definitely doesn't seem like he'd be interested in peace and history so far. He's still quite violent and antagonistic, though he has shown the potential to be a protector and leader with his brief moments of concern for others that we've glimpsed. It's possible that he'll develop into a more moderate leader figure, not so extreme as his father who seemed ashamed of their warrior history and even cut off his own horns in an act of what to me seems like self mutilation more than anything, but also no longer as violent or careless as he once was when he was imprisoned. Maybe he'll learn about the value of peace and decide to protect that peace instead of just wreaking meaningless violence.

Then there's Hajrudin, who doesn't necessarily represent the new ways of Elbaf since he wanted to recreate the Giant Warrior Pirates, but is himself part of the younger and more peaceful demographic, and he's certainly less violent and angry overall than Loki. But he hasn't gotten as much attention this arc as you'd expect if he were going to be in the spotlight. He may end up being more of the Viola of the arc, so to speak, aka the sibling character whose arc is tied to Loki but Loki's story takes center stage. Or maybe they'll get some sort of joint story as the arc progresses. Either way I'm curious how that aspect of things will play out.

And something neat about this turn of events is how Elbaf has been tied to Shanks a lot recently, since way back at the beginning of the series one of the first lessons we saw Shanks teach Luffy was that violence should be used when appropriate, but is not always the answer. I like that thematic consistency. He established from chapter one that the point of having power and using strength is to use it to protect people, not just to get what you want or to earn the respect of others. As Makino put it: "Maybe sometimes it takes more courage not to fight."

[ms--lobotomy]

@men-want-me-fish-fear-me gave me Lucius brainworms. Melt it

Summary: A hunt for a pet doesn't go as expected. Word Count: 762 Content Warnings: Smut, Pred/Prey, Lucius the Eternal, body horror, in my mind this is all consensual but I didn't specify in this fic so dubcon i guess, masc reader, public? Emperor's Children that are even worse than him. Also SMUT and potentially into DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT territory Image Credit: @squishyowl

The link in the chain snapped with a pop, and you knew it was time to run. You tripped over batteries and other such things he considered snacks, leaving marks and gashes in your bare feet. Fuck. You adjusted the small loincloth over your privates as you got back up. He was not only a Space Marine, but a gelatinous abomination and and affront to all gods but Slaanesh. You knew he knew you were free.

You opened the door, paying no mind to how loud it was. There were faces in the wall of Lucius's quarters, shrieking and yowling in pain.

"Run," one of them said.

"I'm fucking trying," you huffed under your breath as you left his quarters.

The ship was empty, eerily so. You felt the fleshy floor under your feet, and groaned as you started walking forwards. There weren't many full faces in here, thank goodness, but you felt a tooth every once in a while.

It wasn't long before you heard familiar, heavy steps. Slaaneshi mutations affected everyone in different ways; it gave Lucius fleshy hooves and made his tongue long and sandpaper-y. You shivered as you fumbled for another door, opening it with even more force than the last one.

There were the Emperor's Children, far away, but a flank was headed in your direction. You shrunk yourself back to avoid notice by them. The only thing more dangerous than Lucius was one of his brothers; in particular, any that didn't particularly like him.

You heard them picking up their pace. Shit. You looked for anything to hide in, hide behind. There was a tentacle sticking up from the floor, but in a cruel act of Slaanesh, it slipped back into the ground.

"What's over there?" one of the Emperor's Children asked.

You froze. You tried to stay still, but they bolted towards you with ungodly weapons in hand. Your eyes widened, and before you knew it, one of them grabbed you by the neck. You tensed up while he lifted you up to his face. His eyeholes glowed slightly, lighting up more as he spoke.

"Hmm..." he said, running a finger along your jaw. "Baseline."

Another one laughed. "Don't see those too often!" His helmet lit up just like his brother's.

The third one nodded. "Might be someone's pet. Be careful."

You were about to sigh with relief before the first removed his helmet. There was a horrid speaker where his mouth was supposed to be, and his eyes were two small black dots right where the bridge of his nose was supposed to be. You felt his breath? Noise? Upon your face. You shut your eyes, prepared for the worst, until a voice broke the silence.

"Hey! That's mine!"

You breathed a sigh of relief as Lucius came after you. His footsteps were rather squishy sounding, even more so than anyone's would be on this floor.

The Emperor's Children dropped you, scurrying away as he brandished his blade at them. His tongue was out, swaying behind him like a stray tentacle. He really did look like the galaxy's ugliest dog.

You tried to get back up onto your feet, but you stumbled on the fleshy ground of the ship. You felt him get closer to you, picking you up by your armpits. He looked you up and down, unhooking one hand to thumb at the bruise the first Emperor's Child left.

"I will deal with this..." he said, and you thought he was going to put you down for a second before he opened his mouth again.

"Later."

You nodded, going limp in his grasp. His green eyes surveyed you further, looking over every inch of exposed skin. He flicked the bruises and cuts on your feet, and you let out a yelp. His skin felt gelatinous on yours. It seemed he was melting as he touched you.

All of a sudden, he dropped you. You looked back at him, inching away. He chuckled.

"Go on. Are you going to run?"

You felt a lump manifest in your throat as your arms and legs failed you. You landed on a tooth near the surface of the floor as you went limp. That was going to bruise later. He let out a full on belly laugh, looming over you. He blocked out what little light there was in the hallway. He leaned down and licked your cheek with that sandpaper-y tongue.

"I'm going to fill you up with more cum than you have organs," he said, grabbing your ankle as you struggled under him.

"Pet."

Taglist: @bispecsual @justeverythingnothingelse @bleedingichorhearts @nekotaetae @historitor-bookshelf

[one-idea]

Part three of shanks raising ASL

First - Previous - Next

This time with some Mishanks.

Going back in time a little, while Shanks was away looking for the Gomu Gomu no Mi. Mihawk made his way to the East Blue to visit his old rival turned…something more.

It’s been a while since Mihawk had seen Shanks. He knows that Shanks went to the East Blue to look for something and wouldn’t return to the grandline until he found it. But going from seeing Shanks once a week (at least) to not seeing him at all for a few months has been…trying. In short he misses him. Though he’d never admit it to the younger man. So he sets off. He’s been bored and needs a good duel. (And to kiss his boyfriend but that’s neither here nor there)

He meets up with Shanks as he’s looking for the Gomu Gomu no Mi. Just after Shanks vowed to come back for Luffy. Mihawk is shocked to see his lover without his treasured hat. He knows how much that hat means to his lover and he is more than willing to go slaughter whoever took it from him.

Shanks has to quickly explain to him that, no the hat hasn’t been destroyed, he just gave it to someone. And Mihawk is shook because Shanks would rather die then separate from his captain’s beloved hat. Who could possible be important enough that Shanks would part with his hat?

So Shanks tells him about the precious little boy on Dawn island. The little boy he’s adopting. And it didn’t occur to him until this very moment that Mihawk might not want to be involved in this. He loves Mihawk and doesn’t want to lose what they have. But he won’t break his promise to Luffy. So if this is a deal breaker he’ll understand. Mihawk didn’t sign up to have a kid with him. Shanks made a decision that will effect both of their lives without consulting Mihawk at all, and while he feels bad about it he doesn’t regret his promise to Luffy. “That kids going to change the world. I just know it”

Mihawk is shocked. He never thought about kids. He knew Shanks never wanted a kid running around the Red Force. His own childhood on the Oro Jackson might have been filled with love but was also so dangerous and chaotic and he knew Shanks didn’t want to give his own children such an upbringing. This Luffy had to be something amazing to make Shanks change his mind in that stance.

“I’ll have to meet this Luffy. See for myself if he’s as special as you say.”

Mihawk isn’t agreeing to raise Luffy (not yet) but he’s not saying no. Honestly Shanks couldn’t have hoped for a better outcome. Mihawk isn’t walking away. In fact it’s as close to a yes and he knows Mihawk is willing to give him. And now he gets to introduce his two favorite people. And Mihawk’s going to stay with them until they go see Luffy! This is great.

It takes a few months before they find the Gomu Gomu no Mi. It was great for their relationship, giving them the time to reaffirm their commitments to each other and strengthen their bond. While also giving Mihawk the chance to process that he might have a son soon. There’s no debating that Luffy is Shanks’ son. Not with the way the man talks about his baby, nor the fond way the crew talks about him. But Mihawk has time to learn about Luffy from the crew and search his own heart on what sort of role he’d be comfortable having in this child’s life. He doesn’t want to lose Shanks but a kid is a lot. It changes everything and he deserves time to process that.

He’s excited to meet the kid (though he’s not showing it on the outside) as they approach Dawn Island. But Shanks can’t sense the kid and puts himself into a panic. A panic that only worsens when they arrive at Party Bar and Makino has no idea where Luffy is. That Garp the Fist, hero of the marines, took the boy and is apparently his grandfather? (Shanks sure knows how to get them into trouble)

They start searching the island for the little boy and Mihawk hopes that they find him. He doesn’t want to think about how Shanks will react if they can’t.

Everyone regroups at Party Bar empty handed. Everyone but Shanks, who has yet to arrive. Mihawk can feel Shanks approaching the bar, but he’s not alone and Mihawk can only hope that one of the three strange presence with Shanks is Luffy.

Little did he know that Shanks would be walking up to this bar with not one, not two, but three little boys. He can safely assume that the littlest boy, who is being carried in Shanks’ arms and talking a mile a minute is Luffy. It helps that he is proudly wearing Shanks’ old straw hat. But the other two boys who are trailing close behind are a mystery. The blond one has his eyes on Shanks and Luffy, watching them with the same intensity Mihawk watches marines, a prey object that is one mistake away from losing its life. The third little boy is trailing behind, his head on a constant swivel. One moment he’s watching Shanks, the next the trail behind them, in front, to the sides, and back to Shanks. A protector is Mihawk had ever seen one, however scrawny the boy maybe.

Mihawk and Benn approach them quickly. With a quick glance at each other Mihawk can tell that Benn does not recognize the other two boys either. But that doesn’t matter once they reach them.

All three boys have been roughed up. Shanks calling for Hongo as soon as he is in range. Mihawk is quick to look the boys over. The blond seems the least injured, but the little protector and Luffy have obviously suffered a beating. A bad one. And one look at Shanks tells him his lover is about to lose it.

Hongo arrives quickly and goes to grab Luffy. Shanks instinctually pulls the little boy closer making the little protector and the blond behind him tense up.

“Let Hongo do his job.” Mihawk is quick to step in. Luffy and the other boys need care and Shanks needs to calm down. All three boys are reading and responding to Shanks emotions. If he doesn’t trust his doctor in this moment the boys won’t either.

Shanks locks in to Mihawk and calms. He knows he’s being ridiculous but in his defense he just found out Luffy has been kidnapped and beaten TWICE since he was away. It’s hard to let go, but he trusts Hongo. He lets the doctor take Luffy from him and introduces the other two boys, Ace and Sabo, telling them to go with Hongo and get checked out.

Once the boys are gone Mihawk and Benn are ready for answers. Although they are asking different questions.

“Who did this?” Benn asks wanting to know who hurt their boy.

“And are they dead?” Mihawk has spent less then five minutes in the boys presence but he can see the way the boy effects his lover. How much Shanks loves Luffy. Anything or anyone who thought they could hurt Mihawk’s loved would die for their insolence. (And isn’t it terrifying to think that that small circle is about to grow by not one but three people. Mihawk knows Shanks. Knows that the other two little boys are likely to get swept up by him as well. And what does it say about Mihawk that he’s already making room in his heart form them? What has Shanks done to him?)

Shanks explains the situation to them. That a pirate crew had attacked Luffy twice for stealing treasure from them. He doesn’t know the whole situation (At this point he doesn’t know that Sabo’s father was involved) just knows that some noble was involved and was trying to take Sabo while beating Ace and Luffy.

The crew is furious. Yasopp and Lucky Roux had come over to join them at some point and they are furious.

The two pirates are staring to shout plans for revenge and Benn is on board but wanting to hear what Shanks has planned. But Mihawk cuts them all off. “You didn’t answer my question.” He levels Shanks with a hard look, “Are they dead?”

“No.” Shanks sounds angry, he is. “I knocked them out with conquers haki.” Mihawk makes a noise that sounds unimpressed but Shanks knows he’s questioning why that was all he had done. It’s been a point of contention between them before with Shanks avoiding bloodshed when he can and Mihawk cut first and if its strong enough to survive, then ask questions later mentality. “I wasn’t about to traumatize those kids by slaughtering those men in front of them.” Shanks defends his decision but Mihawk has already turned his attention to the path Shanks had come down.

“They’re up this path?” Is all he asks. He agrees with Shanks’ decision to not traumatize the kids more. But he’s not going to say that out loud. Shanks knows. Knows from the way Mihawk is moving on with the conversation that he agrees with Shanks’ decision. 

“Ya head up the hill and take a left when the path splits can’t miss them.” Shanks responds easily enough.

“Then let’s go handle this.” Yasopp is ready to go when Mihawk starts walking.

“That won’t be necessary.” He’s already making his way up the path.

“Hey it’s our kid they hurt.” Yasopp argues. He knows Mihawk cares for the captain, and the crew to an extent but he’s never been good at reading Mihawk. No one really is except for Shanks and Benn. But Mihawk doesn’t have the same relationship they do to Luffy. This isn’t his fight.

Mihawk doesn’t even break his stride. “Which is why he will be far more comfortable with all of you around. I’ll go deal with the rift raft. You stay here and take care of the kids.” He’s right. Luffy will be far more comfortable and more importantly Save with their crew around. The boy doesn’t know Mihawk, yet, so he would be less likely to stick around in the swordsman’s care.

Plus Mihawk has been feeling the need to slice something in half since this morning, when they arrived to this island and Shanks had entered panic mode. He hadn’t been able to calm Shanks (nothing would until Luffy was found) he is not the one who found the boy, and he’s more than a little over feeling useless. This he can do. He can remove anyone who dares to harm what’s his. Plus Shanks can stay with his boy and crew and relax in the knowledge that Mihawk will take care of it. (And isn’t it nice to know that Shanks trusts him with this. As his lover isn’t calling out or trying to stop him)

Later the island shakes from his attacks. It’s over quickly but he’s quite happy with the fear he struck into these low lives hearts before he cuts them down. The noble might lead to future problems but for now his corpse brings Mihawk joy. If the Navy asks he can always deny his involvement. A noble wondered to the wrong side of the island and got cut down but pirates. How sad.

He starts to make his way back to Party Bar content that the danger is gone and he can now meet the boy Shanks adores without interference. And they can figure out the other two little boys and their parental situations. (He’s not already thinking about adoption that’s Shanks thing okay)

What he is not expecting is the pandemonium he walks into of

One very distressed red head

One cursing little boy saying things that would make marines blush

One little blond trying to not have a panic attack

And one stretchy boy sobbing on the floor about never being able to swim again

Mihawk will never know peace again.

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

Lessons in Intimacy

Summary: The Emperor's Children wish to see mortal entertainment again during the Maraviglia. By the grace of Slaanesh, all facets of pleasure are available to them.

Tyrell (OC?)/fem!Reader (or OC, it's hard to say)

Warnings: dubious consent, noncon, voyeurism, violence

Word count: 1329

Song: Mindless Self Indulgence - Get It Up (I love this song so much! This is literally the anthem of the Slaanesh Space Marines)

In addition to the descriptions of body horror and angst, I decided to finally try my hand at smut. Tyrell is one of the Space Marines, rarely mentioned, but I used his phrase in the analysis about the Emperor's Children. So in part he can be considered an original character? Or no, decide for yourself.

When Maraviglia was there, they had no control over themselves. Those feelings, previously unfamiliar to the Space Marines, overwhelmed them. They were eager to release them. And the first thing they started doing was killing. Shed blood, devour flesh. They just couldn't stop. They knew only this method of obtaining pleasure.

And yet they saw. Saw how mortals greedily are linked with each other. How all over the hall their flesh merged into a gigantic mass. How they were consumed by the orgy. And after Maraviglia. After Isstvan V, the Space Marines realized how they wanted to feel. More. They demanded excess. Try new sensations and activities. If only the pleasure never ends. Try what was available only to mortals.

Apothecary Fabius, indulging the brothers’ wishes, decided to conduct a “lesson.” For each company, two slaves were allocated, who were supposed to show in detail what was happening between them. Some Space Marines were experiencing the vision of sex for the first time. Others saw this process at one time. But then before Slaanesh it did not cause any emotions. Now, by the grace of the Lord of pleasure, they were eager to see it again.

The mortal man was large, tall, and muscular. It seems Fabius decided to play a trick on his brothers and took the strongest slave who could “play” the space marines. Well, the woman... was beautiful. So small compared to a man. And compared to the Emperor’s Children, she’s completely tiny.

Tyrell felt that almost most of the eyes were directed at her. Although some also looked at the man with lust in their eyes. One of the brothers could not decide who to pay attention to.

The mortal man didn't seem to care much about the reactions of the Emperor's Children. All his attention was focused on the woman who was trying to cover her naked body. The slave gently touched the girl's shoulder. She looked at him fearfully but confidentially. Apparently they knew each other before that day. And then... he kissed her.

Lips touched other lips, sometimes biting and sucking. The tongue penetrated the mouth and collided with the other in an unequal struggle. Tyrell forgot how to breathe for a couple of seconds. This simple action alone made his body feel hot. He felt a heaviness grip his stomach below.

The man gently lowered the girl to the floor. She, in turn, did not know where to look. Or on the floor and walls, just so as not to feel other people's gazes on her. Or a familiar face. Which covered her body with kisses. Shoulders, collarbone, breast, stomach. Until the slave stopped between the gates where he had come out a long time ago.

Tyrell does not see the full picture, but with his hearing he does not need to understand that the slave has begun to suck on the soft flesh. At the same time, the man began to stroke himself and the Space Marine forcefully forced himself not to lower his eyes. Could he really do the same?

There was a characteristic smell of arousal in the room. But then the slave stops. And he begins to position himself between the girl’s legs. Tyrell takes his breath away when he sees a man immersing himself in a woman. He hears the heavy breathing of his brothers next to him. The Space Marine was almost sure that all the Emperor's Children, just like him, were eagerly looking at the unfolding scene, as if hypnotized.

The girl whines in pain and Tyrell finds the sound charming. However, the mortal man leans down to the woman's ear and begins to stroke her stomach. Slowly. Gently. All mortals were fragile to the Space Marines and had to be handled with care. But seeing that mortal men treated women the same way was...intriguing. The slave whispers quietly to the girl so that only she can hear. However, the Space Marines still catch his words.

“Relax, relax. Then it won’t hurt.”

The girl frowns for a while until she completely takes control of her body. Satisfied with the result, the man rises and begins to push. Inserting and removing from a woman's body. Flesh slapped against flesh, making characteristic sounds. The man moaned shamelessly.

It was wonderful.

No painting, no music or sculpture can compare with this spectacle. It was almost like killings on a battlefield. But most of all, Tyrell was captivated by the sight of a mortal woman. How she tried to hold back her moan, breathing deeply. How sweat flowed down her body. The way her breasts swayed in time with the thrusts. They were so soft. The thought of touching these bulges with his lips crossed Tyrell’s mind and he swallowed.

This went on for almost an hour. Apothecary Fabius specifically stimulated the mortals in advance to give the Space Marines the opportunity to examine everything in the smallest detail. But that was not enough.

Tyrell realized this when he saw how at some point the girl’s hips began to tremble. How she moaned through clenched teeth. And how he smelled her juices. Somewhere in the distance a moan was heard from one of the Emperor's Children.

The man finished after the girl. And the space marine felt his body trembling with envy. He wanted it too. And when the man leaned toward the girl again to kiss her shoulder encouragingly... Tyrell couldn’t hold back.

It happened so quickly. Tyrell was not thinking at this moment. He just started beating the slave with all his might. Broke his bones, gutted his body. The rage overwhelmed him so much that he did not notice how, instead of a person, a bloody mess formed under his feet.

“I'm next”

The warrior looks around at the Emperor's Children. Pure rage and excitement radiated from his body. Nobody moved. With the exception of a couple of brothers who hurriedly left the hall, the moment the male slave died. Great. They will not take away a Space Marine's trophy.

Tyrell slowly turned and looked at the woman. Disheveled and red, covered in sweat, she looked in horror at the bloody mess. Despite the fact that the Space Marines had already managed to see every part of her naked body, she tried to cover herself. Thin arms rested on the chest, knees moved towards the stomach.

She was small. Fragile. Helpless. Yes, Tyrell called mortals that way before, but now the meaning of the words took on a different form. And remembering poetry, he realized how else he could describe the beauty.

Exciting.

Alluring.

Seductive.

Tyrell was a strong warrior. Although he lost to talents like Lucius and Julius, he still never kneeled. Until this day. Surprisingly, his legs did not obey. He just couldn't resist, couldn't. Feelings overwhelmed him, the growing excitement of receiving pleasure captured his brain.

He tried. He tried so much to gently spread her legs. The girl squeaked anyway and Tyrell realized that she would be left with bruises. But he didn't break her kneecaps. He tried very hard, she should appreciate this act.

The look of her... femininity. The sight of sex captured his mind. Just think, he hasn’t thought about this for so many decades, so many centuries. When pleasure, delight, paradise, were right under his nose. The smell was enticing and he wanted to taste it.

His head sank between the girl's legs and he carefully licked her. Until a storm of emotions overwhelmed him and he began to taste the juices too much. The beauty's intermittent sighs only egged him on. Just like her tears. And a cry of pain when Tyrell could not restrain his poison.

 He liked everything about her. And he wanted more. He didn't want to share with his brothers. They can use their slaves, and she will be his. The Space Marine wanted to tame her. Fill her out. Until the end.

By the mercy of Slaanesh Tyrell knew love.

[slutsareteacherstoo]

I Hope Part 5 Preview

Lmaoo um cuz im feeling giddy or whatever 🙈🥰 here’s a preview of part 5

I probably missed notes and warning but ill correct it again. Also i gotta revise. There’s structure and grammar thats not all the way there.

Summary: Terry and Savannah go to Costco.

Warnings/Things of Note: grief, disability

(It’s October 2022)

It had been a month since Terry had been staying with his aunt. Her proximity and the sanctuary she provided him was a much needed balm. He cried a lot. Sometimes out of nowhere, others when he’d spot something in his aunt’s main home that reminded Terry of Mike’s absence. He and his aunt consoled each often, the two taking turns holding each other while emotion overcame them and sounds came out or didn’t at all.

One of the things that people misunderstood about him and the women that raised him is that he wasn’t a momma’s boy. At least, not in terms of lacking accountability and hiding behind their skirts, that he could do no wrong in their eyes, etcetera, etcetera. These women taught him to be the man he was, the complete opposite of coddling and the idea that boys were easy to raise, because you left them to their own devices. They were intentional about the rearing of the family’s children, and made sure to emphasize that to the men that raised them too.

Expressions of emotions didn’t have human targets. They would ask for time and space above the sea of thoughts. Time and place, sometimes a thing to consider, but still needing to be heard anyways. He really was a vulnerable man, very expressive and emotionally intelligent due to his upbringing. That changed in the Marines. His exterior was built up hard. Before, it was a wall he could easily put up and down at will. And then it just stayed up and never went down. 5 years after leaving the corps he was still unlearning and relearning, a process he knew would take time. This new grief had opened a large hole in it, forcing him to reassess everything, deal with the trauma of it all and let the feelings speak their peace.

There were elements that lightened things from time to time. Like literally smelling the roses in his aunt’s backyard, when he opened his front door. The bike rides and walks he’d take to reacquaint himself with the city that had changed many times over, in his summers as a youth. And well, Savannah. Terry had volunteered to drop off meals to Savannah, to take over for his aunt in that regard. Taylor had teasingly accused him of trying to interrupt their girl time. He wasn’t. She would see Savannah often. On the weekends, when Terry would explore, Savannah came over. His aunt had always said so. They seemed to always miss each other; Terry never getting a chance to talk with her, get to know her outside of his “deliveries”. Not that he wasn’t getting to know her.

For every Tupperware container they traded, a clean and empty one with something more full, she’d tell him about herself and her day. He found out that she worked at that library (that he would never dare go to again). He’d only gone because his power bank died and he needed to use the restroom. It was the nearest place on his route to his aunt’s house that would let you do that for free! Terry also didn’t want to run into the one worker who stared him down and probably told Savannah about it. He didn't want her to put two and two together and think differently of him. He found out her favorite color was forest green, hinted at by the decor of her apartment. It looked like an urban rainforest. The foliage in her apartment further emphasizing the vibe. He learned that yes, she really did wear a mask everywhere but inside her own home, her best friend Marisol’s (and his auntie’s apparently?). He learned that she had a disability. Disabilities? Something about them being chronic and how that's what it was. Just matter of factly she explained it. That it was a big part of his aunt’s trips across the street. She lived in the house alone but didn’t use to. He knew the other occupant used to be her ex-husband – because of his aunt – and did not press for the details. He learned she liked to read and tell stories. He’d asked her if maybe she’d read something to him sometime. She told him maybe.

On this Sunday morning, he entered his aunt’s kitchen from the side entrance and was surprised to see Savannah seated at the island. Wait, did she eat breakfast here? Terry already had much earlier and in his own space, morning bike ride and such.

“Good morning,” Terry let out toward Savannah, hoping the shock didn’t come out too obvious.

“Good morning,” Savannah said brightly. It was different seeing her like this, outside of her house, the tiredness of her day not so apparent in her physical expression, and also her hair not wrapped in a bonnet or a scarf. She had individuals that were not there when he saw her on Thursday. There were gold charms that decorated her hair and beautifully complemented the depth of her skintone. She was radiant, backlit by the bright morning sun. And Terry was in awe.

His thoughts were interrupted by the tell-tale footsteps and jangle of bracelets that belonged to his aunt.

“Well, good morning to you!” she exclaimed to Terry. He broke out of his daze and walked over, greeting her with a hug and kiss on the cheek.

Taylor announces to the both of them that Terry has eaten her many groceries so NOW he must buy them. She has other errands to run, things to do. Savannah gives her a knowing look that Terry doesn’t catch/understand. Eyes back to Terry with a raised eyebrow, she said “Don’t scratch my truck”.

If you wanna catch up you can click the #terry x savannah tag below but yeah. I can’t wait for this flare to be over so i can go back to reading and writing fr 😩 like highkey me and ol girl gonna go back to our coworking sessions cuz i was putting in work fuck my feelings. the work comes first 😤🙂‍↕️🫡

[blackkatmagic]

!!!!!ahhhhhh BAMF Parent Duo Kycina and Granta about to make Siths pay!!!!!

I cannot handle Granta!!! Granta and Jax! Granta and Hevy!!! Granta buying presents for his babies!!!!

Also Jax!! Perfect, snarky boy!!!! Chief of the Granta Omega Protection Agency!!! (Also President of the Granta Omega Teasing Society, he can multitask) He's already such a force to be reckoned with, I love him so much!

Poor Jon lol Can just imagine his brain blue screening like tf do you do when a child insults your name to your face?

I'm loving this fic and have already reread it again and can hardly wait for more... also Arla?! my darling love?! Can it be!? Gonna love Granta playing up the scorned lover Jango left with millions of children to raise alone act to her ( cuz that's pretty much where he's headed at this point...., like babes you imprint so hard on any clone who is nice to you for even 0.2 seconds....)

Also also trying to catch and connect all the things happening in the background on the reread is so fun! BTW Marine General! Ferus? Your mind is too powerful I fear

Ferus is the most casually badass character in the whole fic and he didn't even get any screen time. 😔

But I'm glad you're enjoying it! Granta and his many many children are going to cause so many problems on purpose and also fix so many problems by accident and honestly, they deserve it.

[taryn40k]

.... I have suddenly been taken by the idea of a deathwatch daycare/bootcamp. Let me explain. Since the surviving Emperor's Children are going to be off training with the Deathwatch and going on missions eventually (at least until their name is cleared enough to reform their own chapter), what are they going to do with their neophytes? The Deathwatch doesn't really do... neophytes. They take marines that are already exemplary, and fully formed. So what about Naël and Telemon? And then my brain hit me with the "cross-chapter training camp". Putting Naël in school with neophytes of many different chapters. A Space Wolf neophyte immediately decides that he is his packmate, because he liked Naël's open declaration that he will be top of the class. A White Scar decides to join because that seems fun. Suddenly there is a ravenguard aspirant also in the group. Nobody invited him, he is just there now, so sure why not. And Naël's brazen nature immediately irritates the local Ultramarine neophyte, who teams up with the local son of Dorn, and a blood angel that is trying to keep things friendly. On the fringes of this mess you can find a neophyte that refuses to give his chapter (deathguard. But shhh), a dark angel who thinks himself above this but is so deeply invested every time he has to join a team, and an Iron Hand neophyte that is genuinely above this.

And this whole classroom gets thrown into exercises and tactical games, sometimes shuffled, as we get to see each neophyte shine in their own specific area, while the others are trying to learn how to deal with it. :) Meanwhile Telemon is receiving proper tutoring because by the God-Emperor this child is so small and young we cannot throw him into the melting pot above. Please sit, let's learn about the history of the Imperium of man. Oh he is so polite.... I don't know what I'm going to do with this idea, but I really like the idea of Naël, for once without his brothers, having to learn to tone down the bitching so he can be a proper Emperor's Children and make his chapter proud... and being a menace. He is definitely a runt, and it shows next to the other neophytes, but BECAUSE he isn't built like a brickhouse he favors planning and creativity over brute force. And he is so easy to underestimate, until the class discovers what he is capable of. :) (Also Ultramarine/EC rivalry. Ancient fued. It's so fun to think about. XD) So yeah! :) Might do a series of fics about it, or some drawings, we'll see! Let me know if you'd be curious to see some content for the Deathwatch Daycare! :D

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Stop your tags are so cute baby 5 SHOULD get to meet everyone! Aaaah now I'm just imagining doflamingo showing up in alabasta with baby 5 after his first couple visits and now Nubia has one friend close to her age so in dressrosa she's like "!!! Omg that's my bestie!"

That poor girl really needs to be given chances to actually be a child 😭

Baby 5 is bursting with excitement when Doflamingo brings her along to a warlord meeting and says that there will be other kids her age there. She's trying so hard to make friends with everyone there. Not just the other children, but even the warlords and the marines standing around as guards. She asks Sengoku if there's anything she can do to help when she notices him with his head in his hands because the warlord meeting has turned into a damn play date.

I could also see Doflamingo bringing her with him on trips to Alabasta and using her as an excuse to be there. He isn't forcing his way into Crocodile's home for his own personal gain, he's doing it so Baby 5 can make friends!

There is still a bit of an age gap between her and Nubia with Baby 5 being 8 years older, but she's so happy to be told that she gets to have a friend in the form of Nubia that she doesn't care. She's more than happy to play childish games if it means making her new friend happy.

Nubia is so relieved when they see each other again because oh my god finally, there is someone from her childhood that was genuine with her.

[sophieswundergarten]

#their pirate ship just being his evil cruise ship from the end of the season <3 lgfdkjdfgfg#and curtain just is like i shall take up the sword and defeat my brothers ship!#[gets on] oh this smells bad#[it starts moving] oh nvm im bout to puke. GARRISONNN

(Tags from @bi-demon-ium)

crack au wherein the team are a crew of pirates but it’s all very robin hood and kids movie “pirates” but really we’re basically a wandering band of vagabonds and heroes, stealing from assholes and the government, helping the poor, etc. anyway they’ve got their top ranking crew members–the first mate, number two, fearsome and kind of bizarre, the–okay, i’m gonna be real, i don’t know or understand ship or pirate ranks, but we’ve also got milligan (hulking giant of a man, can absolutely destroy you) and rhonda (master of disguise and deception!) and so on. and then you’ve got the captain. mysterious, terrifying captain benedict, who no one has ever seen and left alive. you know, supposedly. so when a bunch of kids stowaway on the ship, thinking it’s the merchant ship the shortcut, or something along those lines, realize they are actually on famed fearsome pirate ship green mystery (dont ask me where im getting that name i have no fucking idea) they’re like “oh! shit!” and are naturally, although they nearly avoid it by being incredibly clever, found out. or hey, maybe even only some of them are found out, but kate manages to evade capture by clinging to the rafters, or reynie gives himself up as a distraction. either way, some or all of them are taken to the mysterious captain expecting god knows what–someone scary! someone tall and intimidating! some mean and tough! and instead they get this kindly looking worried professor-type who seems much more inclined to fuss over whether they’re sick from being down there for so long or if they’ve eaten enough than throw them overboard. he’s a genius, sure, and he’s helped orchestrate god knows how many wild missions and adventures to steal shit from assholes (including his brother, who probably has a high position in government, not that he knows that’s who it is yet due to his assumed name) and help people they come across, but while he can defend himself he’s not really the fighting type, he’s the planning type, and also yes he does dangerous things NO HE WOULD NEVER ENDANGER A CHILD ARE YOU INSANE come kids we shall get you plenty of food and a proper place to sleep 

[v3x4t1on]

I followed for the one piece x homestuck meta lore

yk what, anon. as a treat ill explain what ive been thinking about earlier

(spoiler warning for up to wci, i think. its hard to remember what lore was revealed when, sorry.)

for the context of this world, devil fruits probably exist. or they can be psionics, but im honestly not sure which route i wanna go. celestial dragons are for sure fuschiabloods, no doubt. the alternian government is just the marines and are led by highbloods. alternia’s hierarchal system fits pretty well into one piece i’d say. the empress would just be imu, but there would be more than one fuschia running around. perhaps the world is a lot more flooded than alternia and theres different islands so the maps pretty similar to the one piece world. thus, its a bit harder for the troll marines to enforce their laws.

gol d roger was a limeblood who forever changed alternian history by telling people of his hidden treasure, the one piece. this led to a huge wave of pirates, and more open opposition against the empress. limebloods such as gol d roger to this day are still being hunted down by the government due to the threat they pose to it. the oppressive nature of the marines is the exact same as the alternian government, so i hope i dont have to explain it too much.

hancock’s been on my mind a lot lately, her tribe as well. i think they’d all be jadebloods that were once cloistered and now live on their own away from alternian authority. hancock and her sisters were enslaved by fuschias at a very young age, eventually escaping and forming their independent tribe. she has a strong distaste for highbloods.

i felt like jade fit very well for hancock as well as her whole tribe considering jadeblood culture. jadebloods are also pretty rare compared to other castes are are almost always born female. cloistered jades are also isolated from the rest of society to focus on their duties, and have much more pacifist views compared to the rest of the world. yada yada i think it fits perfectly. i also think hancock and her sisters would be rainbowdrinkers… that could be why the rest of the kuja tribe worship/respect them. rainbowdrinkers are regarded as myth in alterian culture, but are worshipped/romanticized by cloistered jades like theyre all twilight fans basically

big moms pirates just feel like theyd be a group of juggalos to me? a huge family of purplebloods obsessed with violence and food.

the vinsmokes… oh man. judge was an indigo scientist who strived to create the most cracked goldbloods; living weapons of destruction that can hold in immense power. goldbloods are often used by highbloods to power things such as ships, and are typically regarded as just living batteries. since goldbloods are known for their great psionics, judge wanted to combine their powerful psionics with the strength of a highblood, since highbloods tend to live longer and have more natural physical strength. sora is forced to participate despite her efforts to foil the experiment. since the vinsmoke children are a mix of goldblood and indigoblood dna, their blood is an odd shade of green/teal; because of this, sanji ends up disguising himself as a tealblood. his abilities are not unlocked until much later, but the genetic modifications done to his body explains his fire psionics and unnatural strength. the other vinsmoke children are some of the mutants permitted by law since theyre being used to benefit the alternian government and empress in the long run.

i will probably write more posts but im just trying to get some of my thoughts out while i still remember. please talk to me about this im down to talk about anything. i can also classpect characters and explain why i think that if anyone wants

also reposting this for reference. please ask questions!!

-??

[mmkin]

Hearth and Home (Get You Some Arlong)

Next chapter of Get You Some Arlong is now up... let us Arlong simps rejoice. Link to AO3 here, the chapter can also be found under the cut and the handsome pictures of Arlong. Enjoy!

Content warning - the chapter is NSFW/18+ but all intimacy is consensual. There is a serious injury - no one dies but there is mention of blood and wounds.

IX

A couple of notes and observations I have from watching the Arlong Park episodes (both anime and OPLA) I’ve enjoyed both versions of the Arlong Park arc, but as I was thinking about Arlong's tribute system, it left me wondering how people of places like the Conomi Islands manage to come up with the money to pay these monthly tributes.

In the anime, Arlong destroys the ships of the villagers and sinks Marine ships that come to fight him. So presumably places like Cocoyashi Village have no stable way of continuing to earn money. They would run out of cash and need to trade with one another for necessities. Arlong takes most if not all the money, and there does not appear to be an inflow of money from the outside of Arlong's area, at least none of which would reach the human villagers directly.

Tangerines may grow on trees, but money doesn't. Someone must have figured something out, but it’s never discussed AFAIK. And I’m one of these nerds who gnaws on little details from a show/movie/book/etc until I go near-mad over it, haha.

Also, Bellemere's sacrifice was unnecessary. (I refer more to the anime here as Bellemere had more wiggle room here compared to OPLA) I'm sure some people will hate me for saying this, but it was unnecessary for her to have opened her mouth because she had been given a perfect out by Genzo. I am sure the villagers would have been happy to support Bellemere in hiding Nami and Nojiko. There are historical records of various people going into hiding for years when facing persecution.

Instead, Bellemere cast her children into an uncertain future. She left the villagers on the hook for the tribute fees of two children (she had no way of knowing that Nami would have become part of Arlong's crew) and forced her children to witness the trauma of seeing her killed instead of keeping her mouth shut.

Lying about her family didn’t mean she didn’t care about them. Sometimes lying about someone’s existence was what kept them safe. In the past, people would hide escaped slaves, or unjustly persecuted fugitives and then pretend they didn’t exist when the authorities came sniffing around. It didn’t mean that the benefactors thought any less of the people they were covering for. It was simply pragmatic, and if Bellemere had been more pragmatic, a lot of grief could have been avoided all around. Just my two cents.

Not much a fan of Queen Otohime, either. I get that she wanted to bridge the gap between humans and merfolk, but she was too idealistic and didn't do as much good as she wanted to. Like, did she and her husband take a strong stance against slavery? Did they take measures to increase security around Fishman Island to prevent their people from being captured as slaves? And dumping orphans in the Fishman District and never giving them another thought, did anyone really think that problem would just solve itself?

Yeah, if I were a fishman or mermaid I’d be pretty upset, too. Of course, it’s nice that One Piece shows varying viewpoints, not just black and white, but it bothered me when Fukaboshi asked Hody what had happened to make him so hateful and Hody said ‘nothing’.

No no, it wasn’t ‘nothing’. Hody and his friends were very nearly kidnapped as children – thankfully Arlong showed up and kicked the ass of these would-be slavers. And honestly, if you’re a fishman seeing humans trying to kidnap fishman children, then I’d hope you feel at least a little pissed off. Or from Hody’s POV, some asshole humans tried to kidnap you and your friends to sell – that’d have to shake you up at least some. So as much of an asshole as Hody is, some of his anger was justified.

Also, if you come across a reference to 'The Breakfast Club', yes, I put that there on purpose, lol. Ok, that's a long enough author's note – kudos if you made it through that. On to the fic!

o0o0o0o

You sip your tangerine juice and lean back in your chair as you eye Buggy’s head idly when Chew sets it down on the table. The head is not quite as talkative, but then considering what he’s been through recently, you’d be pretty quiet too, probably. The clown has been through a wide range of experiences since being captured by Arlong. He’s spent most of his time in pieces, or when he’s intact, the seastone cuffs Arlong keeps on hand make sure he can’t use his Chop-chop powers. When his body hangs in the gallery, Arlong lets the other fishmen use him as target practice, which had Buggy wailing in dismay when he was allowed to see his body the next day, covered in splatters of paint.

The clown's head blinks as he takes in the morning light and then he registers your presence. You've not interacted with him much, but Buggy has paid attention – not that there's much else to do when one is a captive – and he understands who you are. He quickly looks around – doubtless to see if Arlong is around – before turning back to you. Chew sits down. Arlong is out for the day with some of his fishmen, collecting the tribute from a couple of nearby islands, so he’ll be back before the end of the day.

Since you were outed by Toma, you see little point in covering up at Arlong Park. Passing for human or male was something you preferred to do on missions or when traveling incognito was needed, but this place is your home now – the first place in a long, long time you’d call home. And you should be able to be yourself in your home if nowhere else. So you’re just sitting there in a swimsuit top and shorts.

“So, what did you bring me out for?” Buggy asks casually, seeing that the park is quiet. It’s just the three of you. “Chew taunts me while you watch? Not much of an audience this time.”

“Hmph," you snort. "You're a real showman, aren't you? And your Chop-chop jazzes things up, I bet." You sip your juice, your tentacles draped comfortably across the arms and back of the chair. Buggy perks up at your words, and Chew raises an eyebrow. You smile at Chew before returning your attention to Buggy. You're someone who prefers to live incognito. Even as Arlong's mate, you advise him behind closed doors, letting others think you're just Arlong's arm candy. Like a deep-sea squid, many do not see you until you're nearly upon them, if they ever see you. And here is one who is nearly the opposite of you.

“You’ve never seen one of my shows, have you? Such a shame.”

“I don’t know,” you say with a small sigh. “I mean, weren’t you holding Orange Town captive? A captive audience is…” You shrug, scrunching up your face. Chew smiles at that, behind the back of Buggy’s head. You blow a raspberry to punctuate your comment.

“Sometimes people need to be forced to sit down to appreciate what’s before them!”

“That’s an interesting mindset.” You look down at your nails. “Interesting doesn’t always mean good, though.”

“You could prove me wrong, then,” he says, staring at you with a pair of sea-green eyes that you will admit are attractive. (Nowhere near as attractive as Arlong’s azure eyes, though...)

“Well, I could put on a show for you. You’re the one in the position of power here, not me, toots. Put my head back on my body, and let me out of the seastone cuffs, and I’ll knock your socks off!”

You cross your arms at that, raising an eyebrow. On one hand, keeping Buggy captive constantly would wear on both him and Arlong, and even Chew. On the other hand, he’s still resistant at times, so none of you know if he will turn on Arlong the moment he has a chance to.

“How do I know this is not a ploy to escape?” you ask.

“Well, I’m on an island. One heavily populated by fishmen. I can send my parts flying, but not that far, not to another island.”

“Hmm.” You glance over at Chew, stroking your chin. “Arlong never did get to see a show either, did he?” you say, recalling Arlong telling you how the clown had been defeated by some kid in a straw hat. The two of you had a good laugh over that.

At that, Buggy’s smile freezes, and you smirk. “Hey, better than an audience of one, right? You didn’t think you were putting on a private show for me, did you?” You bat your eyes at him and Chew chuckles.

More fishmen watching also means more to take Buggy down if he ever tries something with his powers. Arlong has never allowed Buggy to perform at full capability, and well, you admit you're curious.

“Well, I can ask Arlong about it when he comes back. Besides, it’s not like I have the key to the seastone cuffs,” you add with mock chagrin. You know where they are, safely tucked away where Arlong left them, but there's no reason to mention that, is there? And Chew knows, too.

“But if you want to entertain me now, I’m not opposed to a good story or a joke.”

Buggy stares at you and then the tumbler of juice you have in your hand. Oh, how thirsty he must be. The Chop-chop fruit means his metabolism pauses if he's in pieces, so he doesn't need to eat. Nonetheless, you can see the poor thing’s lips are a touch dry.

“If it’s a really good one and Chew and I both laugh, you can have a few sips of my juice.”

Buggy glances upward while thinking of something that’ll get him some of that juice. You hold up the cup enticingly.

“A naked blonde walks into a bar with a poodle under one arm and a two-foot salami in the other…”

o0o0o0o

One of the things Arlong likes to do when he is in an especially devilish mood is to have you ride his thigh. He enjoys watching you getting all worked up and then trying to give yourself relief by rubbing yourself against his leg. At least this time he took off his shorts before he has you doing that and is sitting back in his chair, watching as you rock your hips against him.

You've never said it, but you know that he knows you enjoy his roughness sometimes. His dirty talk, the way he grabs you or holds you down, or gives you orders. He knows you have a difficult time cumming – if at all – when he tells you to ride his thigh, so he can watch you get all flustered and frustrated. If there's a glimmer of mercy in him during such sessions, he might decide to use his hand and help you, but right now he's just watching you with that smug smirk of his.

His erections are temptingly close, but you know you can't touch them – much less ride them – until he decides he's ready for that. Sometimes he might pump himself while you watch, so the entertainment is mutual. Your gaze drifts down to the thick pair of throbbing rods, starting lavender at the base and taking on an enticing red hue along the shaft, especially around the heads. Even now, you still on occasion boggle over the fact that Arlong has two of them, but you have no complaints when you think about how absolutely fantastic these shafts feel buried inside of you.

“Arlong…” you groan. You are close, and your hips snap in frantic rhythm as you bear down on him, feeling that gorgeous sharkskin of his against your pelvis and thighs.

“That's it. I know you're close… keep going. Good girl, yes, that's it. You're so wet and hot. Be a good little slut and cum for me, and you'll get to play with more than my thigh…" His hand reaches to touch your face, his thumb sliding against your mouth. Your lips part, and you bite gently down on him as you start keening. You're so close. So fucking close.

You look into his eyes and bite harder, pressing your tongue against his thumb as his words give you the push you need. A short moan breaks from your throat before your rhythm slows, your thighs shivering against him.

“I'm so proud of you," he purrs lecherously. "You worked so hard…" Damn right, he knows you worked hard for it – he was right there for every minute of it. That bastard.

He’s your bastard, though. He can spew out his obscenities, and grab you, and dominate and fuck you, and chortle over how you belong to him. All of that is yours. But as you also know very well, Arlong has more than that to offer, though few would know or suspect it.

He’s also your mate and partner. You bask in the purr of his voice as he speaks to you, your hips swaying against him slowly as he pulls his hand from your mouth.

“You have more than earned your reward. Come and get it." he wiggles his hips. You need no further invitation and straddle him as you lower yourself onto him, one cock sliding into you while the other one is nestled between your stomachs. You wrap a tentacle around it and ensure he gets both cocks stimulated at once.

It’s all too easy to lose yourself in his passion, and the park fades away as you ride him fiercely, his hands on your sides as he keeps you close, his cocks twitching against and within you as you moan out his name, tasting him as he pulls you in for a fierce kiss.

After he cums, you lean back, seeing the pearly mess that is smeared along both of your stomachs.

“You see the mess you made, little slut? Clean that up now,” he scolds, pointing to himself. You smirk at him but obediently disengage from him and kneel before him to lick the cum off him as he watches you, savoring the taste of his skin and the firmness of his stomach. You bat your eyes at him, or wiggle your tongue, making a little show of it as he relaxes in his chair.

“Mmm. Arlong…” you growl against him as you lick the last drop off him before playfully biting along the ridges of his abs. He smiles at that before you stand up, your front in full view, including your semen-splattered stomach. “Well?” you ask lightly, placing a hand on your hip as you look at him. His smile widens into a smirk as he raises his eyebrow. “Are you going to return the favor?” you tease.

“Does this dirty little slut want me to clean her up?” he asks in a drawl, resting his chin on a hand.

“Considering that you made your slut dirty in the first place…”

He rises from his chair, stepping out of the shorts he had bunched around his ankles. Even naked, he is an impressive sight, all muscles and sharp points and sheer strength. (Actually, one might argue that he looks even more impressive naked, all of his physical strength on display, every rippling muscle there for all to see, admire, or cower before) But you stand before him unafraid, his passion evident on you – not just the mess on your stomach, but the fading bite marks on your shoulder and thigh. (You know he will be marking you with fresh bites in due time)

He steps toward you with a playful growl. You giggle and step back, batting your eyes. Without another word, he pushes you into the pool, and you instinctively react before you’re in the water, whipping your tentacles out and hooking them around him. You drag him in with you, hearing his surprised but amused laugh.

That’s what he gets for messing around with someone with tentacles. Though you have to wonder if he had an inkling you’d do that if he gave you a reason to. You smirk at him as the two of you drift through the water, his hand sliding across your stomach to clean you up – and continues sliding along your body long after the fact.

o0o0o0o

Nami comes home from one of her missions, and you can tell something’s up.

Cocoyasi Village is free, but it is still surrounded by Arlong's territory, which has expanded in the years since Arlong and his pirates came to the island and his deal with Nami was made. Arlong still has more power over their lives than the distant World Government, and certainly more than the Marines, of which Nezumi and several others are in his pocket. (Arlong still has plenty enough towns to extract tributes from to cover all these bribes. More towns, more bribes, it seems the cycle doesn't end…) Even though Arlong has never officially announced Cocoyasi Village's freedom, word still gets out and over the last few months, several humans arrived at Cocoyasi Village, petitioning for citizenship.

Nami's deal with Arlong did not include newcomers – only existing citizens of the village at the time Nami bought its freedom, and any children they might have. This he is able to argue when Nami asks him to allow them to take up residency. And in this, you see where he is coming from. If people from towns under Arlong's control see Cocoyasu Village as a haven, then people will flock to the village, meaning Arlong loses tribute from these people, and the village will grow too rapidly. Arlong Village is a learning experience as word of mouth attracts more seafolk from a variety of walks of life and there are definite growing pains.

Nami glances at you. It was a surprise to her to finally learn that you are Arlong's mate, but you've since assured her that you remain friendly to her and she can come to ask you for help if she needs it.

… It doesn’t mean you’ll help her every time she asks for it, though. Much as you respect Nami, you are still Arlong’s mate, and Nami has a more secure place in this world as a human than you and Arlong do as fishmen. (which is how this whole thing started) Humans have most of the Red Line and so many of the islands. The tragic tale of Queen Otohime shows how much hatred persists in the world despite her efforts to make peace. So if a fishman wants to seize a bunch of islands for himself and his fishmen, what of it? Humans still have most of the world’s land.

“They will have to pay tribute,” Arlong says. “If they do that, they can stay in the village in peace.”

You know that’s as much of a concession as Arlong will make. These new humans can return to their home villages, or suck it up and pay tribute.

“I will let Genzo know," is all Nami can say. You wonder if these newcomers will be expected to pay on their own or if the village will pitch in and help – they certainly have more money sitting around without the old tributes to pay.

“Good girl," Arlong says, dismissing the redhead. He looks at you with a small smirk. You smile and shrug, though you can't blame Nami. After all, Arlong had been going to exploit a loophole to keep Nami bound. So if Nami saw a loophole she could use against Arlong, you certainly won't blame her for trying. "In the meantime, these Straw Hats?" Arlong says musingly. Buggy had mentioned them, and now Nami has run into them on her last mission.

“Worth keeping an eye on,” you say. It wouldn’t be the first small pirate crew that you or Arlong ever had to deal with, but you know from experience that once in a while, life likes to toss a nasty surprise at you.

o0o0o0o

You and Hatchan – who both can pass for human by hiding your extra limbs under clothing – are on a mission. This one called for gathering information directly from humans so you and Hatchan pose as partners – platonic or romantic as befits the situation – while gathering information near a marine base. It is outside of Arlong's territory, but as Arlong expands his reach, conflict with this base will be inevitable unless the right person can be bribed or threatened.

As you expect, the local tavern has quite a few Marines, so you buy a drink and sit there, listening to the conversations around you.

Unfortunately, shit goes sideways when someone starts a fight, and as luck would have it, a few rookie pirates come in, and it becomes much worse. All you can do is slip out as quietly as you can because you do not get involved in fights between humans.

Outside, you see a pirate ship that was not there when you went into the bar.

Yeah. This sort of thing usually doesn’t happen on the smaller islands, but as Arlong expands his territory and takes on bigger towns, it means bigger problems – hence the necessity of this mission and any information you can gather. Unless somehow the pirates and Marines can weaken one another to the point where Arlong can move in and take the spoils.

Guns are fired and there are a few explosions. More than one of the pirates is a Devil Fruit user. You're not dressed as a Marine or a pirate, but as a 'human civilian' you or Hatchan are not necessarily safe especially as there are multiple fights and you just want to get past them but you can't use your tentacles unless you want to out – and draw attention to – yourself, which would defeat the purpose of this mission. And as luck would have it, you catch several bullets that would have killed you if you were human.

Hatchan manages to get you out of there and back to Arlong, but you’re in considerable pain and there were moments you were not sure you would make it. You almost lose one of your tentacles because of a bullet that went through it. Arlong looks down at you as you lay there in the infirmary, Hatchan and the physician fussing over you, making sure your torso and tentacles are bandaged properly and you are comfortable before they leave you alone with your mate.

You lay there, high from the painkillers you were given. You're not quite sure how much time has passed. Even with the superior speed of a fishman, it took some time for Hatchan to get to Arlong Park, especially with having to take care of you as well, because you were in no condition to swim. You were in so much pain and half-mad from it that Hatchan was giving serious consideration to seeking out the nearest doctor, regardless of whether they were human or not. You managed to fish out the bullets with your tentacles and a dagger you carry with you, and oh fuck, did that ever hurt. Hatchan's not likely to forget your yowls when you were digging out the last bullet that was embedded more deeply in your flesh than the others. If he wasn't a fishman, you might have broken his hand with how hard you were squeezing it.

The drugs are such a relief. It still hurts some to move around, so you keep your body as still as you can, drawing in slow breaths and feeling the bandages around your middle.

Home sweet home. It’s not the homecoming you were looking for, but at least it seems like you’re out of danger and you can finally breathe easy (and so can Hatchan)

Arlong on the other hand… you’re not sure what you see in his eyes as he stares down at you. There is concern and relief for you, and anger that someone dared to hurt you in the first place. But there’s more than that, and despite how well you’ve come to know Arlong, it’s a mystery to you. You do find out about it soon enough.

o0o0o0o

“Hey, Y/n,” you hear Nami’s voice as you doze in the infirmary, several days after your homecoming. You’re recovering, and feel considerably better, but you are still weak from blood loss and dealing with multiple injuries.

“Oh, hi," you murmur. Though Nami didn't complain to you after Arlong made his decision about the newcomers to Cocoyasi village, you know that she thinks you should have said something. You're not going to hold it against her. Maybe it's from living around humans for periods of time before coming to Arlong Park, but this insight does help you advise Arlong. After all, it's this knowledge of yours that stopped Arlong from destroying his already-fraught relationship with Nami.

“How have you been?” you ask.

“Just fine. Sorry about what happened to you.”

All you can do is shrug. “You’ve had some close calls, didn’t you? And I know you’ve gotten worse than scrapes and bruises.”

“Not something that nearly killed me, though,” she says with some sympathy.

“It is what it is. It's good to see you though." You sincerely care for her welfare and even that of her sister and the town sheriff. You don't tell her that, though. Maybe she knows, maybe she doesn't. "Is there anything you wanted to talk to me about?"

You see the hesitation on her face, and you won't pressure her about it. "You can trust me. But, no worries either way. Hey, there's a birthday party coming up in a few days. Are you going to be there?" you ask, looking to change the subject to something more cheery. One of Arlong's most senior crew members has a birthday coming up soon, and you and Nami both know Arlong likes a good party.

“I don’t know. I’ve been to plenty enough of these,” she replies with a shrug. Oh, that’s right. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that Nami has had a quite difficult time here, especially in the first few years. One wouldn’t think that by looking at the way she moves freely around Arlong Park and the island or how she talks to Arlong or other fishmen, but you’ve picked up on bits here and there of the trauma she’s had to deal with here. The two of you exchange a few more friendly words before Arlong’s shadow fills the doorway. Nami sees you look up, and she turns to see her captain.

She and Arlong exchange a couple of polite words before he excuses her, and she slides past him. You can not help but smile a little as you look up at him, his presence is comforting to you. But then, he’s your mate. After your ordeal, all you want to do is be near him.

“What's a pretty little squid like you doing in a place like this?" he asks with a playful rumble as he pulls up a stool and sits next to you. You reach out, and he takes your hand in his own.

“Waiting for my sexy sharkman,” you reply. He chuckles.

“So the doctor says you’re coming along,” Arlong comments as he glances at the bandages.

“I certainly hope so,” you reply dryly. He grins at that and squeezes your hand. “I’ve been hurt, but never like this. I was actually afraid I’d never come home.”

“Home,” Arlong says quietly.

“What else could it be?” you reply. “You’re my mate, and this is your home, so it’s my home, as well.”

You see a rare glimmer of softness in his eyes and expression as he looks at you. He murmurs your name in a husky tone before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

o0o0o0o

By the day of the party, you’ve recovered enough to be out and about, though you have no plans to leave the island for a while. You’re content to simply walk around the island before the party starts, getting some much-needed sun and fresh air, stretching your legs after all that time spent in bed. You wiggle your tentacles, and all of them stretch out and dance as you command, except for one. It’s the one that took the bullet, and the doctor is not sure if the damage is permanent. It’s sluggish, especially beyond the wound.

All you can do is stretch and massage it, and now and then exercise it, trying to restore it to its full functionality. You don't want to think about what will happen if it never does. You try to count your blessings. At least you didn't get anything cut off. You're alive. You're with Arlong, home and safe, and you still have all your other fully-functioning tentacles to kick ass with. This is not the first crisis you've faced (although you certainly hope it will be the last!)

You get back to Arlong Park just as the party is getting underway, meat roasting on the spits as kegs and bottles are being set out for the guests.

“Enjoy your walk?” Arlong asks as you sit in the chair that is set for you.

“It feels good to be outside," you say. You still feel a little weak, but you no longer feel half-dead. And you feel nice in the dress Arlong gave you. He took it off one of the ships he recently captured and brought it down to the village where a fishman had set up a tailor shop, and had it altered to accommodate your extra appendages. It's a summer dress that once belonged to a privileged human female who will never see it again, and damn, you look good in it. The color suits you, the sequins are tastefully applied, and you are very well aware of the admiring glances Arlong sends you through the night. Arlong gives the birthday boy well wishes, and the food and drinks are passed out. Buggy is brought out, and Arlong unlocks the seastone cuffs.

You will admit, Buggy knows how to put on a show with his daggers and chop-chop ability. It's quite a treat for the birthday boy, and it's funny to think that hiring a clown or magician is something some humans sometimes do for children's parties, and here Arlong is, employing a clown to entertain a grown fishman who is nonetheless enjoying himself.

There's a bit of soreness in your stomach when you laugh too much, but otherwise, you're having a grand time. The show goes without mishap, and for Buggy's cooperation, you convince Arlong to let Buggy have some of the good food that's being shared by the fishmen and even a bottle of rum. You've become an effective good cop against Arlong's bad cop when the situation calls for it. The seastone cuffs go back on Buggy before he gets fed, but he gets to spend the night in his cell in one piece.

Devil Fruits may be a pain in the ass to a fishman, but you have to admit you see how some of them can be useful. And in this world, you can’t rely on just one thing to get ahead. Sure, Nami’s maps are wonderful, but you’ve nudged Arlong into diversification so that he focuses less on Nami and more on things that are truly more beneficial to the Arlong Empire. As you remind Arlong, there are better and more powerful men than Nezumi that he can manipulate, and the strength of a fishman is nothing to scoff at, but fishmen can still be captured and forced into slavery so the Arlong Empire needs weapons and technology of its own to augment the natural strength of the fishman race.

As the night winds down, you excuse yourself and for the first night in several weeks, you will be sleeping in Arlong’s bed. It seemed like almost another lifetime since you left the park with Hatchan to go on your mission. The nights in the infirmary were long and lonely, even in a drug-addled sleep.

You remove the dress, carefully folding and putting it away before pulling on a plain linen nightie and sliding into Arlong’s bed, feeling a wave of nostalgia and comfort wash over you as you stretch out in the bed you share with your mate. The sheets are freshly laundered and you bury your face against your pillow, inhaling the crisp scent.

It’s not long before Arlong comes upstairs, and you watch through half-lidded eyes as he removes most of his clothing, sitting at the side of the bed in his shorts. He’s a handsome sight from the back as he runs his fingers through his hair, and you lean up to kiss the side of his fin.

“Mmm. The sight of your bare back and fin is a most pleasing one, Arlong,” you purr as you kiss his shoulder several times before you lay back down. He turns and grins at you, obviously happy to have you back in his bed. You know it hasn’t been easy for him, having you close but having to restrain himself for your well-being. You’re still a bit sore, but as long as Arlong is gentle, you’re happy to accommodate him because let’s be real, you’ve been wanting him, too.

Arlong would sometimes sit with you in the infirmary if he was going over his ledger or had correspondence to go through. It was nice to know that he looked for work he could do near you and sometimes you’d just watch him for a few minutes as he stared at the page intently. At least that was better than hearing him roar at various fishmen outside over small irritations. He’s already quick enough to anger, but the stress caused by his worry over you causes him to be even pricklier than usual around his subordinates. You know the fishmen have been hoping you’d recover fast and put Arlong back in a better mood.

He draws close to you, gathering you up in one arm as he looks down at you. You hum contentedly and cuddle against his chest.

“It has been lonely up here without you,” he growls gently into your ear.

“Do you think I haven't been lonely?" you scold him lightly. He chuckles and his other hand rests on your hip. You wiggle against him, and he takes the cue, his hand pulling up the material of your pajamas to reveal the fact that you're not wearing any panties. "I only ask that you be gentle with me. I'm still healing," you whisper.

“It will not be easy,” he says as he growls and nips along your jaw. “I’m quite pent up.”

“I would appreciate it,” you coo at him. “I promise, you can be rough when I’m fully healed.”

He grins at that, and you know he’s going to hold you to it. But in the meantime, he honors your request, soothing the ache in you that was caused by time away from him and exacerbated by your injury and recuperation.

I love you, Arlong. You want nothing more than to whisper that to him after your session. You moan quietly and arch against him as he slides his hand down there, rubbing a finger along your slit, where his cum is oozing out.

“Mmm. I love filling you with my seed,” he says as he nuzzles and kisses your shoulder and arm, being careful with his nose. His finger continues to gently tease your slit, sliding up and down it, and on occasion, pushing his finger inside, as if he’s trying to push back the cum that’s leaking out of you.

“I know,” you reply with a satisfied purr. Out of the two of you, you are certain Arlong enjoys sex more. That doesn’t mean you don’t enjoy it nearly as much as he does. And how could you not? This man is your mate. You were his from the first moment he laid eyes upon you at the Baratie regardless of whether he was conscious of that fact at first.

“I’ve been doing some thinking while you were recuperating,” he states conversationally, his hand continuing its lazy ministrations. “You know you are very dear to me.”

“I do not doubt that, Arlong." You reach up to touch his face.

“I want you to stay on this island unless you accompany me somewhere," he states. You stare at him for a moment, absorbing his words.

“What about missions?” you ask softly.

“No one can fault the fine job you have done, but we have more people here now who can get closer to humans, including mermaids. I do not wish to risk losing you, and there is much of value you do here at Arlong Park already, and I don't just mean the sex," he clarifies with a twinkle in his eye, "As a member of the Arlong Pirates, consider this a promotion."

You're flattered, and you're not surprised that Arlong is being possessive and protective. After nearly losing you, of course, he doesn't want to take any risk of that happening.

“There’s something else I would like from you,” he says softly, and he is staring at you with hunger, his hand still down there, caressing you.

You wonder what it could possibly be. You've given him all of yourself. Your body, your skills, your loyalty, your wisdom, and advice. Your love. “What is it?” you ask.

“A child.”