#do these three have a ship name? or is it just cross guild?

[iaxsl]

domestic cross guild, where mornings start off with a sleepy Buggy floating to the kitchen, eyes semi-closed. Mihawk at the kitchen island with two ready-made coffee mugs in front of him, silently sipping from his own while he passes one of the mugs to Buggy who wordlessly accepts and sits down across from him. Crocodile is soon trailing after him, also accepting the offered mug from Mihawk. no words are exchanged. Crocodile sets to making breakfast while Mihawk and Buggy move to sit at the table to give him more space. eyes still heavy with sleep, Buggy drapes himself on the table, trying to get a few more minutes of shut-eye. the sounds of Mihawk turning the pages of the newspaper and Crocodile humming as he cooks is a soothing lullaby to Buggy's ears by now. he has never had peaceful mornings like this before.

[lumiolivier]

Unearthing the Treasure

Series: One Piece

Chapter: One Shot

Word Count: 14521

Rating: T

Pairing(s): Cross Guild x Reader (YN)

a/n: Hi! Ever wonder how it is you ended up with the Cross Guild in the first place? Well...This is how.

You remember that feeling.  The chill in the air, the freezing water, and you had lost any and all will to fight.  You were exhausted.  You were thirsty.  You were hungry.  And what was left of your ship floated underneath you, barely keeping you afloat.  You didn’t catch the name of the pirates that destroyed your ship, but you were just a simple shipping vessel.  You were only trying to get to your next port.  And yet, your crew was gone.  Your supply was gone.  And your ship was on its way to the bottom of the ocean.  With the exception of the little piece you were using as a paddleboard.  But you didn’t have it in you anymore.  You weren’t going to fight.  You were going to close your eyes and let the sea take you.

Until you felt land underneath you instead of your driftwood.  Until your driftwood turned to sand.  Until you saw the shadowy outline of three giants in front of you.  But you didn’t have the energy to fight them.  Once you saw them, you were already slipping out of consciousness.  And before the three figures could come into focus, you were gone.  You were done.  There was no hope left.  There was no sense left in fighting a battle you had already lost.

Until you woke up again.  Surely, this was some sort of afterlife.  Surely, you were washed away with the tide.  Surely, you were dead.  But you knew one thing for certain.  You were warm.  You were comfortable in a warm bed.  This must have been some semblance of afterlife.  You opened your eyes and you were surrounded by rich, luxurious fabrics hanging from the windows, blocking out most of the sunlight.  Your bed had never felt so comfortable, but it was a bed unfamiliar all the same.  And yet, brilliant shades of deep blues and purples surrounded you.  You weren’t sure where you were, but for the time being, in the quiet of the room, you were grateful.

Until that comfortable feeling was no longer comfortable.  As you woke up, you started to feel every little ache and pain in your body.  The vicious bite of the sea had finally sunk in.  Your hips felt out of place and your shoulders were beyond strained.  But that was the least of your worries.  Because you noticed something else was out of place.  The pajamas on your body were not on you when you washed ashore.  They weren’t even yours.  Were they?  You didn’t think they were yours.  Then again, who knew how long you had been out at sea?  Certainly not you.  You had lost track of how many times you had seen the sun rise and set.

But you were still so lost.  Where were you?  What happened?  How did you get into such a beautiful room?  And how did you end up in warm, dry clothes?  Was it one of the three giants you had seen on the beach?  And what did they have planned for you?  Certainly, they weren’t going to be happy with you washing up on their beach.  You were trespassing in all technicality.  But what other option did you have?  It’s not like you were going to be picked up by a Marine ship.  They didn’t come to save you when you were being trashed by pirates.  They weren’t going to help you now. 

You wanted to get up and get out of bed.  However, the pains in your body told you otherwise.  Everything felt like it was out of place.  Like you were a puzzle that was swatted off the table by a particularly sassy cat.  But something reignited in you.  A new will to live.  A drive to keep on fighting no matter what.  But you still didn’t know what happened.  You still didn’t know where those giants were hiding or if they had anything planned for you.  But you knew you still needed to leave.

“Huh���She’s kind of cute.  I can see why they brought you in.”

Immediately, you jumped, not expecting to hear a sudden voice out of nowhere.  But all you could do was scream in pain.  You didn’t care about the voice anymore, but that pain…That pain was the worst.  And the weakness in your body certainly wasn’t doing you any favors.  You fell back down to the bed and writhed in your silk sheets.  With every jolt, your will to live started to decrease again.  And right now, death would’ve appeared to you as a welcomed friend.

“Shh…” a man came in and gently settled you down, “I know, dear.  I know.  It can’t be very comfortable for you right now, but you need to rest some more.  You came ashore in such a dreadful state.  Go on.  Get some rest.”

The voice was oddly soothing.  Something about it felt warm.  And safe.  And like nothing could hurt you.  And those were the voices you feared the most.  Because they were always attached to some of the most dangerous men you had ever met.  Comforting and soothing, sure, but that wasn’t enough to lower your guard, “Who…?”

“Shh…” a hand went up to your forehead.  You wanted to open your eyes, but the warm hand on your forehead felt far too good, “It’s alright.  I know you have questions.  And we do, too.  But in due time, darling.  For now, you need to get some rest.  And certain young ladies don’t need to be poking around in business that isn’t hers.”

“You’re no fun!” that voice from earlier whined. 

“And you’re a nuisance to our guest,” he shot her down, “Go on.  Leave her alone.”

“But was I wrong?  She is kind of a cutie.”

“Perona…”

“Fine, fine.  I’m leaving.  Buzzkill…”

“As for you,” the man spoke softly, “Get some more rest.  We’ll try eating in a little while.  Ok?”

“Ok…” you didn’t have any energy.  You just…weren’t there.  You were still wildly disoriented from your days adrift at sea.  So, you did as you were told.  You shut your eyes again and you got more rest.  You didn’t know who the man was.  You didn’t know why he was helping you.  But in that moment, you couldn’t have been more grateful for his kindness.  A complete stranger was nice enough to let you in for the evening…Morning.  Yes.  It was definitely morning.  With that bright, blinding sun, it’d be concerning if that was considered nighttime.  But you had a roof over your head and a warm bed to sleep in.  And soon enough, you’d have a meal in your stomach, too.

When you woke up again, it was still daylight.  You weren’t sure how much daylight you had left, but if you had to fathom a guess, it was somewhere late in the afternoon.  You wondered to yourself how long you had slept, but your aches and pains were not a welcomed distraction.  As strange as it may sound with your sunburned shoulders, you still wanted to feel the warmth of that sun.  When you weren’t completely surrounded by water on all sides.  Later, you decided.  You could see that sun again later.  For now, you felt your stomach caving in on itself.

“And who do you think you are to say we can’t keep her?” your savior’s voice carried into your room.  Outside the door maybe?  You weren’t entirely sure, but you kept listening, “It’s my fucking house.”

“Think about it.” Another voice…Another savior?  Or worse, someone wanting to throw you back? “If we keep it, then we have to take care of it.  If we have to take care of it, that means less for us.  Do you not see that?”

“She’s just shipwrecked.” A third voice broke in.  Would this be the voice of reason or would he be an executioner, too? “We can make sure she’s back to fighting shape.  Then, we can take her to the nearest port, drop her off, and let her fend for herself.  Is that something we can all agree on?”

“You don’t understand,” your savior put his foot down.  And every inch of your body wanted to squeal out in pride.  Yet, you knew better.  Two of the three men outside your door wanted to give you the boot.  You couldn’t let any of them know you were awake, “She’s…I don’t know.  Neither one of you have met her yet.  If you two meet her, you’ll see things my way.  I know you will.”

“My god…” the more selfish one of the three scoffed, “Are you really thinking with your dick right now?”

“What?  No!  That’s absurd!”

“Are you sure about that?  Because one man’s absurd is another man’s boner.  In this case, it’s yours.  Are you fucking serious?”

“Look…If I bring her to the drawing room, will you two pull the thongs out of your asses?”

“Excuse me?”

“Hey!  Only one of us is wearing a thong, thank you.”

“Could’ve went the rest of my life without knowing you wore them in the first place.”

You scrambled to bundle yourself back up in your bed, swaddled in the blankets like a newborn baby.  They couldn’t know you were awake. You lay perfectly still in your bed in a position you could’ve been in for hours.  How would they know?  It’s not like they were regularly checking up on you.  As far as you knew.  It’s not like they were poking their heads in the room, just to make sure you were still breathing.  As far as you knew.  Everything was fine.  What do you mean, they were just talking about you?  Of course, they weren’t.  You didn’t hear anything.  It was probably someone else they rescued from the beach.  Not you.

“I know you’re awake, sweetie.” There was that voice again!  It was a girl’s voice.  Soft, ethereal even, “Hey!  I said, I know you’re awake!”

You dropped the act and looked around the room, “Where are you?”

“I’m right here.” A girl materialized seemingly out of nowhere.  You weren’t expecting this doll like creature to pop up, “Hi.”

“Who the hell are you?” You gripped your sheets tight, sweating a bit.

“Please,” the girl brushed you off and made herself comfortable at your bedside.  Because personal space didn’t exist, “I’m not going to hurt you.  Neither is anyone else here.  No matter what you might have heard.  They’re all teddy bears whether they want to admit it or not.”

“You still didn’t answer my question,” you pointed out, “Who are you?”

“You can call me Perona,” she introduced herself, “Hey, wait a minute!  You’re the one living in my house and yet, you’re the one barking questions at me?  No, no, no.  That’s not how this works.”

“Your house?” you looked at her strangely, remembering what your savior had said, “I don’t think this is your house.”

“Trust me,” Perona rolled her eyes at you, “It is.  This is my house.  Now, more importantly, who the hell are you?  If we’re going to be so crass to each other.”

“YN…” you told her, “I’m sorry.  I’m a little fuzzy yet.”

“Well,” Perona sighed out, kicking her feet up in your bed, “Mihawk sure has taken a shine to you, hasn’t he?”

“Mihawk?” you wondered.  Mihawk, Mihawk…The name sounded so familiar to you, but you couldn’t put your finger on why.

“You’ve had to have heard of Mihawk in some stretch of the imagination,” Perona giggled, “I mean, he’s the greatest swordsman in the world.  Second, if you ask his protégé, but Mihawk still lives and breathes, so what’s that tell you?”

“That he’s still the greatest swordsman in the world?”

“Bingo,” Perona started to rise from your bed, still comfortably on her back, “Let’s see…Who else could I tell you about?”

“Perona…” your savior had finally rejoined you.  And you got a better look at those pretty gold eyes that melted you to your core, “What are you doing in here?  I thought I told you to leave her alone.”

“I’m just making friends,” Perona groaned, “Really and truly, Mihawk, you don’t need to be the buzzkill.  YN and me are besties now.  And you’re jealous.”

“Go,” he ordered.

“Well, YN,” Perona floated off, “It was nice meeting you.  We really should hang out more often.  I’ll be back later when you don’t have someone else killing the vibe, K?”

“Ok…” You weren’t entirely sure what to think about Perona.  She was sweet.  You’ll give her that much.  She was a lot, though, too.  Not that you were totally complaining.  You could see the two of you becoming friends.  Eventually.

“I’m sorry about that,” he sat at your bedside, “She can be quite the handful.  Especially when we have new guests.”

“Is that what I am?” you wondered, “Am I a guest?”

“Yes,” he assured you, “What’s your name, darling?”

“It’s YN…” you introduced yourself, “What about you?”

“Really?” he looked at you strangely, “You don’t know who I am?  I really did think I was much more well known than that.”

“Perona called you Mihawk…” you remembered.  You remembered more than you thought you did, “Are you, by any chance, Dracule Mihawk?”

“Yes, I am,” he cracked a little smile, “And this is my castle.  This is Kuraigana Island.”

“Kuraigana Island?” You didn’t remember drifting out this far.

“Yes,” Mihawk pushed your hair out of your face, “You really have been through it, haven’t you?”

“I have no intentions on staying here longer than I have to,” you blurted out, “The second I’m all better, I’ll leave and we can pretend like this never happened.”

“No, no, no,” Mihawk settled you, “Where did I ever say that?  You stay here as long as you need to.”

“And then,” you reiterated, “I’ll leave.  I don’t need to be a burden on you.”

“You’re not a burden,” Mihawk took your cheek into his palm, “You’re alright.  You don’t need to waste your energy on such silly notions.  I’m sure this is a stupid question, but are you hungry?  Would you care for something to eat?”

“Please,” your voice was soft and meager, but the thought of eating something flashed in your brain like a neon sign.  You needed something, anything in your stomach.  Something to settle it from that long drift at sea.

“When was the last time you ate something?” Mihawk dug in his pocket.

“It’s…” you bit your lip, bracing yourself for what would likely be a verbal lashing for the century, “It’s been a few days.”

“Then, we’ll start with something small,” Mihawk pulled out a small packet of rice crackers, his inkling of your starvation proving correct, “If you can keep these down, then I’ll give you more.  But I want you to wait a little bit between eating.  Is that alright with you?”

“That’s fine,” you tried hard not to greedily grab for those rice crackers, but considering it had been days since you last ate, you were hungry.  The voracity took over and you gladly inhaled those rice crackers.

“Easy…” Until Mihawk stopped you, fully prepared for a chomp in his arm, “If you eat these too fast, you will throw them up and that’s not a mess I feel like cleaning up today.  Do we understand?”

Something about his firm hand coming down on you like that sent a strange tingle down your spine.  And just as he insisted, you started to savor those crackers a little more.  And you managed to actually taste them.  The mild saltiness brought tears to your eyes and a little smile to your face, “These taste like shit…”

“Excuse me?” Mihawk clutched his chest, “I go out of my way to give you…”

But he stopped himself, noticing those tears streaming down your face as you continue to eat them.  No matter how much they tasted like cardboard, “They’re so bad…But they’re keeping me alive.  Maybe it’s like you…”

“Wait,” Mihawk tried to wrap his head around your metaphor, but it fell incredibly flat, “I think you’re still delirious, dear.  Perhaps you should get some more sleep.”

“No,” you shook your head, “I know who you are, Marine hunter Dracule Mihawk…I know what you’ve done…What you’re capable of.  You could commit such atrocities for the most trivial reasons without batting an eye.  But you’re still taking care of me.  And I’m still grateful for you, despite what sins you’ve committed in your lifetime.”

Mihawk blinked a couple times, intrigued by your insight.  Albeit confused by your metaphor and still a bit insulted you compared him to something so bland and simple like a rice cracker, “Would you like some more crackers, YN?”

“Yes, please.”

“Of course,” Mihawk gave you a little smile and another packet of rice crackers.  You savored this packet more than the last.  Mihawk put a hand on your shoulder, “Good girl.  Keep those down, alright?  I’m going to get you something more substantial, ok?”

“Ok,” you nodded.

“Is there anything specific you’d like?” Mihawk asked.

“If you have any,” you hoped, “Could you bring me an orange?”

“Of course,” Mihawk left your bedside and you continued to eat your crackers in peace.  Sure, they still tasted like cardboard, but they were your cardboard.  And they were keeping you alive.

“He really is a sweetheart once you get to know him,” Perona reappeared the moment that door closed.

“Perona,” you jumped a bit, “If you’re going to come in here when Mihawk leaves, you have to start wearing a bell or something.”

“I’m sure I can find a bell around here,” she offered, “I’ll ring the bell every time I’m in here.”

“Thank you,” you felt your heart rate get back to normal.

“I stand by what I said, though,” Perona laid back down in your bed next to you.  Because, again, personal space isn’t a thing, “Mihawk can be a sweetheart when he wants to be one.  And there’s something about you, apparently, that gets to him.”

“I called him a rice cracker…”

“I heard,” Perona winced, “But the explanation saved it.  You know…If you were looking to go that direction.”

“Which direction?” you scratched your head.

“Come on, YN,” Perona scoffed, “You can’t tell me you don’t see where this is going.  You two would be cute together.”

“I feel like I just came out of a fucking coma!” you squeaked, “The last thing I’m thinking about is a relationship.”

“Everything is a relationship,” Perona explained, “Right now, we have a relationship.  It’s whether or not you want it to be something more than just platonic.  I could see you two having a little something, something, though.  Besides, a good lay might be just what he needs to get the stick out of his ass.  His last boyfriend was kind of a lush, so he had to back off from that, but even when he came around, Mihawk would always mellow out for a while.  He needs that again.”

“Alright, alright,” you settled her, “Let’s get one thing straight.  Right now, I’m not interested.”

“But…?” Perona nudged you along, “Come on, YN.  Look at the man.  I wouldn’t even think about it.  He’s kind of like a weird father figure situation with me.  Same thing with his protégé.  He’s like my pain in the ass little brother.  But that’s our dynamic.  You can’t tell me Mihawk’s not a good looking man.”

“Oh, yes, he is,” you nodded, drooling a little bit before snapping yourself out of your schoolgirl-esque haze, “But that’s beside the point.  That’s not something I need right now.  I don’t need to be in a relationship.  I need to focus on getting better and getting the hell out of here.”

“Wait…” Perona’s heart started to crack, “You’re…You’re really going to leave here?”

“This isn’t my house,” you reminded her, “This is your house.  I know Mihawk said I could stay here as long as I needed to.  Key word.  Need.  Once I’m all better, I won’t need to be here anymore.  So, I guess I’d just leave after that.”

“No!” Perona latched onto your arm.  You weren’t thinking she’d reach that far, but here you were, “Don’t go yet, YN.  Don’t get me wrong.  I miss the days when it was just Mihawk and me, but ever since the others got here, I have hardly anyone to be catty with.  Mihawk’s always busy with the other two.  I need someone else, too!  Please?  Please don’t go.”

“I’m still going to be here for a while,” you settled her, “I’m sure.  I mean, I still feel like shit.  And Mihawk’s keeping a close eye on me.”

“Not close enough to shoo me out of here,” Perona shrugged, “But I digress.”

“I’m not going anywhere yet,” you promised, “But I’m sure there’s going to come a day where I’ll leave here and probably never come back.  The sea is a vast place and I’m not even sure which way I took to get here.”

“Fate,” Perona grabbed your hands, “Fate brought you here.  Fate brought you here to be my best friend.  We can’t deny fate like this, YN.  It has been writ.  The die cast.  All that.  We’re fate bonded.  You’re not leaving and I have a new bestie.  That’s how this works.”

Now, you understood a little better what Mihawk meant when he said Perona was a handful.  Because Perona was, in fact, a handful, “Tell you what, Perona.  I’ll make you a deal.”

“A deal?” she started to calm down a bit, your proposal intriguing, “What kind of deal?”

“For as long as I’m here,” you promised, “We can be best friends.  What that entails is entirely up to you.  And yet, what that also entails is healthy personal space and not you up my ass all the time.  Just throwing that out there now.”

“Alright, alright,” Perona laid her head on your shoulder, her pink curls in your face, “I get it.  But we still get to be best friends, right?”

And who were you to fight it?  It’s not like your energy was up there from a couple of rice crackers, “Of course, Perona.”

“Yay!” And just like that, you had a new best friend.  She may have been a little parasitic, but look at that cute little face.  You couldn’t tell her no, “This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship, YN.  I promise you that.”

“Perona, what the hell are you doing?” Mihawk had rejoined you with a couple of big oranges in his hands as he promised. 

“Hanging out with my new best friend,” Perona stuck to your side like glue, “Why?”

“I told you to leave her be,” Mihawk scolded her.

But being Perona’s new best friend, you stepped in, “It’s alright, Mihawk.  She can stay.  There’s nothing wrong here.  Besides, I don’t mind the company.”

“You need to be resting, YN,” Mihawk’s sternness was suddenly on you.

“Right now,” you pointed out, “I thought you said I needed to get something in my stomach.”

“That, I did,” Mihawk agreed, peeling your orange for you, “How have you taken to the rice crackers?”

“Keeping them down,” you reported, reaching out for a piece of orange, “Please?  Mihawk, I’m still hungry.  Rice crackers are not going to be enough.”

“Alright,” Mihawk gave you your orange and let you eat some more, “Eat it slowly.  This is a little more acidic than the rice crackers.”

The sweetness of your orange made you smile, “Thank you.”

“Better than the rice crackers, I’m assuming?” Mihawk smiled back.  Only a little.  Not enough to catch Perona’s attention.

“Yes,” you giggled a bit, “Much better.  But the rice crackers have their place, too.”

“Good to hear,” Mihawk sat next to you.  On the side that wasn’t very clearly taken up by Perona.  However, he shot her a quick glare, “YN, do you think you could call off your guard kitten please?  I’d like to speak with you alone.”

“Anything you say in front of her,” Perona didn’t budge, “You can say in front of me.  And if you can’t, it’s not worth you saying at all.”

“Perona…” Mihawk ordered, “Leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Perona latched onto your arm.

“Don’t make me do this the hard way…”

“You wouldn’t…”

You weren’t sure what kind of argument you had yourself caught in the middle of, but chances are, it would be in your own best interest to stay out of it.

“You know I would,” Mihawk smirked.

“You’re bluffing.” Perona kept her guard up.

“Abite, Spiritus Perona.  Ite vexas aliquem alium…”

“Ow!” Perona winced.  You noticed a little cloud of smoke come up from her shoulders, “That was just plain rude.  Using an exorcism on me…Weren’t you taught better?”

“I was taught how to deal with exasperating ghost princesses,” Mihawk grinned, “Now, are you going to leave?”

“Fine,” Perona hugged you tight, “If he tries anything stupid, YN, feel free to yell for me.”

“I will, Perona,” you promised.  However, you had a feeling that if Mihawk were to do something stupid, he would’ve done it by now.  And as quickly as she appeared, Perona disappeared.

“I swear,” Mihawk let out a heavy, exasperated sigh, “I should really consider warding the room.  But more important task at hand.”

“What was that?” you wondered, your head still spinning from where you were and how you got there.  Things had only gotten worse since you woke up.

“A mild exorcism,” Mihawk explained, “Perona has a thing about ghosts.  And when her ghosts hurt, she hurts.  Regardless of that, we still have more important matters to discuss.”

“I’ll tell you the same thing I told Perona,” you cut to the chase, “When I’m all better, all I’ll ask for is a ride.  Then, you’ll never have to deal with me again.”

Mihawk looked at you strangely, not sure where your sudden declaration was coming from, “Who ever said anything about me dealing with you?  I’ve been taking care of you, dear.  Nothing more, nothing less.  I don’t deal with you.  Some of my associates, I deal with them.  The World Government whenever I have to, I deal with them.  I don’t deal with you.  Actually, if you’re feeling up to it, I have two of my associates here.  They live in this castle, too.  They’d like to meet you.  Is that alright?”

Sure.  Those associates that wanted you gone.  But Mihawk didn’t know you knew that.  With the way things were going, the only ones who still wanted you in the castle were Mihawk and Perona.  And Perona was much more adamant about it than Mihawk.  You couldn’t let Mihawk know you were eavesdropping on their earlier conversation, but he could feel it.  There was something not entirely right here.  Your apprehension had him worried.

“It’s alright,” Mihawk took your hand, “If I didn’t trust them…at least a little…I wouldn’t be letting you meet them.  And if it’s you staying here that has you worried, they don’t have the final say in that.  I do.  You will stay here as long as you need to.  And if you’d like to stay any longer after that, it’s entirely up to you.  Ok?”

“Ok,” you gave him a little nod, “I want to meet the others.”

“That’s good,” Mihawk praised, taking your hand, “If you’d like, I can bring them here.”

“No,” you shook your head, doing your best to curry favor in the other directions, “They don’t need to see where I’ve been recovering.  It’s ok.  I’m sure there’s somewhere in this place for meetings like this.  Some kind of boardroom.”

“Come with me,” Mihawk helped you onto your feet.  You stumbled a few steps, but that was to be expected.  You didn’t know how long you had been in that bed or how much rest your legs needed after kicking as long as you did or how much pressure was on them from the sea.  Mihawk held you steady as your muscle memory started to kick in, “Are you alright to walk on your own?”

“I should be,” you held onto Mihawk’s arm to get yourself steady again.  Slowly, you started to let go.  As you took your first unassisted steps, you were ok again.  You weren’t sure how long it would last, but you knew you were ok, “How far are we going?”

“Not very,” Mihawk assured you, “It’s not like we’re going up stairs.  We’re staying on this floor.”

“And,” you wondered, “Which floor are we on?”

“The second,” Mihawk still took your arm, “Where all the bedrooms are.”

“How many are there?” you watched as Mihawk pushed the door open.

“You had to ask,” Mihawk started counting under his breath, “Let’s see…There’s eight.”

“Did you ever live here by yourself?”

“At one time, yes,” Mihawk nodded, “But then, Perona moved in.  My associates decided to stay a few nights in the guest rooms and never left.  I have someone else that comes around every so often to try and kill me, so he needed a place to sleep while we were training, too.  And now, I only have a few guest rooms left, so I don’t live here alone anymore.”

“That’s good,” you rested your head on Mihawk’s shoulder as the two of you continued down the hall.  Until his words finally sunk in, “Wait, wait, wait, what do you mean, you have someone come around that tries to kill you?!”

“Just that,” Mihawk played it off, “He begged me to take him on as a sort of mentor and I did.  And for as long as he can remember, he’s wanted to best me in combat.  So, when he arrives, he typically tries to kill me.  I end up stopping him every time.  Although, he is getting better.  I will admit that.  But of course, he is.  I train him.  But he comes inside.  We have lunch.  Perona runs him for a while when I have other things to do.  Then, he ends up passing out with a bottle of sake and we call it an evening.  He’s really not that bad once you get to know him.  Granted, his walls are a hundred feet high and made of solid concrete, but he’s not bad.  Not overly a fan of those he chooses to surround himself with, personally, but I’d be lying if I said they didn’t intrigue me.  In their own special ways.”

“And,” you couldn’t help yourself.  Your curiosity burned within you, “Do you ever know when your alleged student assassin is going to show up?”

“Sometimes, he calls beforehand,” Mihawk shrugged, “But I don’t typically hold my breath for that one.”

“Is he a pirate, too?”

“Mmhm,” Mihawk nodded, “Does it make you nervous?”

“Hm?” you weren’t sure where he was going with this, but you stayed on regardless.

“Does it make you nervous to be in a castle full of pirates?” Mihawk asked, “Because you are, you know.”

“When I was a kid,” you cracked a little smile, “I was always told pirates were evil.  That there was no such thing as a pirate you could trust.”

“That’s not true,” Mihawk stepped in, “That’s not entirely true.  If you really wanted someone you couldn’t entirely trust…”

“It’s the World Government?” you assumed, “I know.  The same World Government who hammers the idea that pirates are evil, that pirates are scum, that pirates aren’t trustable, unlovable…And yet, the Warlords are a thing…And pirates can’t be trusted?”

“Huh…” Mihawk smiled a bit, “You certainly are interesting, aren’t you?”

“I got a little sleep recently,” you started letting go of Mihawk’s arm again, trying to take a few steps on your own.  Before you could fall again, Mihawk caught you.

“And perhaps,” Mihawk decided, “You still need more.  But please.  Go on.  What has you so apprehensive about the World Government?”

“I think they’re hypocritical,” you brushed him off, “You tell us how pirates are so awful and yet, you keep some in your back pocket?  For what?  Just in case?  For a rainy day?  And it’s funny.  Because every time I tried to flag down a Marine vessel, they all ignored me.”

“We didn’t exactly come in and save you either, YN,” Mihawk pointed out, “You washed up on my beach.”

“And instead of throwing me back into the water,” you argued, “You brought me in here, gave me a warm bed to sleep in and shitty rice crackers to get my strength back.”

“Be grateful they weren’t stale…” Mihawk hid a little laugh.  As well as what he could anyway.

You knew right then and there.  You were going to like it here.

Mihawk brought you into what looked like an old library.  All the books lining the walls made your heart melt, all of them on a million different subjects.  You could be lost in here for days and be perfectly content.  You couldn’t believe something like this existed in Mihawk’s castle, but then again, after him saying he used to live here alone, you couldn’t think of a better companion than a book.  Even though you and Mihawk were really starting to hit it off.

But that’s when you saw them…

Those were familiar faces.

At your last delivery port, you always made it a point to check the local bulletin boards to see the wanted posters.  And you knew those faces.  The annoyed glare of Sir Crocodile…The sparkling eye of Buggy the Clown…You knew those faces.  And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like what you saw…When they were on the wanted posters.  Seeing them in person was a whole different story.  You could feel it right then and there.  Your legs were going to give out again.  And much like last time, Mihawk made sure to catch you.

“Come,” Mihawk steadied you onto a nearby chair, “Sit.  Are you alright?”

“You’re such a mother hen, Mihawk,” Crocodile rolled his eyes, letting out a cloud of smoke from his mouth.

“She was adrift for God only knows how long,” Mihawk argued, taking your side, “Honestly, Crocodile, are you that devoid of empathy?”

“Not entirely,” Crocodile brushed him off, “In this case, I don’t see where she needs it.”

“Wow,” you mumbled to yourself, mildly insulted, “What a pleasure to meet you, too.”

“Excuse me?” Crocodile’s ear pricked up, “Did you say something, girl?”

“What?” you scoffed, holding back a little fear.  You knew you had Mihawk on your side if need be.  And just as scary, you had Perona, too.  You’d be safe, “I don’t think it’s empathy he’s devoid of, Mihawk.  I think it’s basic manners.”

You earned a cheap laugh out of Buggy, “Damn, Croccy.  She put your in your place already.  I like her…Please, call me Buggy.”

“See?” you pointed out, “The clown gets it.  It’s wonderful to meet you, Buggy.”

“YN…” Mihawk pulled you back, “I wouldn’t be so chummy with the clown…”

“Why?” you asked.

“Because,” Mihawk explained, “He wanted to get rid of you as soon as possible.  I wouldn’t get too close.”

“He’s probably harmless,” you shook him off.

“So, new kid,” Buggy slid between Mihawk and you, “What’s your name?  I’m sure you have one of those.  Or do you not remember?”

“It’s YN,” you told him.  Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder that was not Mihawk’s.  And Buggy sat across from you.  Crocodile’s ego was too bruised to even consider your existence.  You looked over at Buggy who seemed to be missing something, “Uh…Is this your hand?”

“Aren’t devil fruits just the neatest?” Buggy’s hand gave the most twiddly fingered wave.  If he wouldn’t have mentioned a devil fruit, you would’ve been screaming.  But you knew how those worked, “What happened to your ship?  What brought you all the way out here?”

“The sea did,” you remembered, “We were attacked by pirates.  The ship fell apart.  I drifted here.”

“Do you remember the last place you were docked?” Mihawk asked.

“Not really,” you shrugged, “I mean, I worked on a shipping vessel.  All our ports run together in my…HEY!”

“OW!” Mihawk’s hand immediately grabbed Buggy’s from under the table, his grip tightening with every passing breath, “Ow, ow, ow, ow…Mihawk…Ok…I give.  That hurts.  Please.  Let me go.  Let me go.”

“What the fuck kind of cheap trick were you attempting, clown?” Mihawk held Buggy’s disembodied hand down on the table, pulling a dagger from around his neck.

“It was no trick!” Buggy lied through his teeth while you swore you could still feel something crawling on your thigh, “Sometimes, when my hands come off, they get a mind of their own, you kn-OW!”

Mihawk’s dagger stood straight up in the middle of Buggy’s hand, “Would you like to try that again?  This time, perhaps you could try honesty instead.”

“Is it a crime to make her feel a little better?” Buggy whined, “Please, Mihawk, take the dagger out.”

“Not until your hand learns to control itself,” Mihawk snapped, “And did she ask you to make her feel better?”

“Well…No, but…”

“Did she ask you to put your hand on her thigh?” Mihawk twisted his dagger a little more.

“FUUUUUUUCK!” Buggy screeched, “No!”

“Now,” Mihawk continued to coldly stab into Buggy’s hand, “Do you see what happens when someone does something to someone else’s body without asking?”

“Yes!” Buggy whimpered, “Yes, I get it!”

“Do you like when I do something to you without asking?” Mihawk’s tone was oddly calm.  You weren’t sure what to think about it, but you did appreciate him taking your side.

“No!” Buggy groaned, “Alright, Mihawk, fuck!  Take this out!”

“If you insist,” Mihawk grabbed the handle of his dagger, “Now, will your hand learn to control itself?”

“Yes…”

“Very good,” Mihawk yanked out the dagger as Buggy’s hand flew back to the rest of his body, “Now, would you look at that, Buggy?  You got blood all over my nice table.  That’s just as bad as Crocodile putting his cigars out in the arms of my chairs.  What a shame.  You need to clean that up.”

“You’re a dick, Hawky!” Buggy got up to likely find a towel…maybe some bandages. 

“Yes, yes,” Mihawk let it go, “Love you, too.”

“Pain in the ass, that clown…” Crocodile grumbled.

“He is,” Mihawk sighed out, “But what are you going to do?  He’s our pain in the ass clown.  You see, YN, every now and then, when either Crocodile or I need to blow off some steam, we have a habit of using Buggy to do that.”

“Really?” you had a million and one ideas of how that could go.  You weren’t sure how to feel about it, but whatever they had to do.

“Mmhm,” Mihawk nodded, “The chop chop fruit…a fascinating fruit that one is.  Buggy’s body can fall apart in any way imaginable.  I can cut him to ribbons and he’ll reform every time.  Granted, he’ll still be the same pain in our ass he’s always been, but the catharsis is there.  Crocodile likes to take his head off and work on his drive with it.  It’s getting better.”

“It’s YN, right?” Crocodile lit up another cigar.  You could’ve sworn he just had one.

“Yes,” you perked up, wondering what Crocodile had to say, “Did you have something to ask me?”

“I did,” Crocodile nodded, looking over to Mihawk.

“Fuck no,” Mihawk shot him down, “Not happening.”

“It’s fine, Mihawk,” Crocodile promised, keeping you in the dark entirely.

“It’s not fine,” Mihawk stood his ground, “I’m not doing it.”

“What is it?” you asked, treading lightly.

“He’s trying to get me to leave you two alone,” Mihawk told you, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“It’s ok, Mihawk,” you called him off, earning a little trust with Crocodile, “I can handle it.  I’ve already had Buggy try to grab me.  I think that was a good enough deterrent for Crocodile doing anything stupid.”

“Well…” You could see it all over Mihawk’s face.  He had such misgivings about it.  And yet, he trusted you.  You weren’t going to do anything stupid.  He knew that off the bat.  It wasn’t you he didn’t trust at this point.  And yet, Mihawk had his ways, “Alright.  I’ll go find our dumbass clown.”

“Thank you,” you let him go.

“But YN,” Mihawk added, keeping his voice down in your ear, “If he gets a single step out of line, I want you to yell for Perona.  Do you understand?”

“Mmhm.”

“Good girl,” Mihawk shot one last warning glare toward Crocodile and left the two of you alone.

Things were quiet between you.  Of course, they were.  Crocodile wasn’t exactly a man of many words to begin with.  He could negotiate with the best of them.  There was no doubt.  But you…You perplexed him.  You infuriated him.  And yet, you intrigued him all the same.  Much like you did with Mihawk, but in a completely different way.  You were the most vexing creature he had ever laid eyes on.  And yet…He wanted to know more. 

“You really did look like shit last night.” Ah, yes.  A man of few words, Crocodile was.  But whenever those few words came out, they were unnecessarily biting.

“Thank you,” you grumbled sarcastically, “You know how to make a girl feel good.”

“But,” Crocodile moved a little closer to you, “Now, you don’t look too worse for wear.  Your color’s coming back.  You don’t look like you’re an inch away from death.  How are you feeling?”

“Still a little hungry,” you admitted, “Probably dehydrated all to hell.  But I should pull through.  Where the fuck did that come from?”

“It’s not often someone knocks me back like you did,” Crocodile offered you his hand.  His…incredibly large hand, “But you had a little moxie in you.  I may not like it in the moment, but in hindsight, I respect it.  It’s good to see you have a spine.”

“Even if it feels like it’s in knots right now?” you joked darkly.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Crocodile gave you a respectful nod, “I can see what Mihawk sees in you.”

“Really?” You hardly even saw what Mihawk saw in you.  He didn’t strike you as the type to give up trust so easily.  But you were grateful he did to you, “And what’s that?”

“Can you stand?” Crocodile asked.

“I can try,” you could feel your arms wobble as you tried pushing yourself up from the chair.  Your legs weren’t much better, but you could still try.  Even if trying meant failing gracefully into Crocodile’s side.

“Easy…” Crocodile took your hands and held you steady, “You’re not in any pain or anything like that, are you?”

“No,” you shook your head, in both shock and awe that Crocodile was holding you up, “I’m good.  Just a few kinks in my back.  Other than that, I’m fine.”

“That’s good to hear,” Crocodile held your hands as you continued to try putting one foot in front of the other.  And very carefully, he had you walking across the floor again.  Still a bit wobbly, but you were walking, “Would you look at that?  You might be getting better right before my eyes.”

“Trying to,” you kept your eyes on your feet.  Slowly, you felt Crocodile’s grip begin to relax.  Once he started to let go, you felt it again.  Your legs were going to give out again.  And you quickly grabbed his fingers, “Don’t let go!”

“Alright, alright,” Crocodile kept his hold on you, “I’m still here.  And Mihawk thought I was going to do something stupid.”

“Which brings me to my next question,” you wondered, “Why did you want us to be alone?”

“Because I wanted to see what you’d do without your scary dog at your side,” Crocodile admitted, “And I can see you still have a spine.  I’m not entirely heartless, YN.  I know some may think me that way, but I’m not.  And I really do see what Mihawk sees in you.” 

“Which is…?”

“I’m sure that once you’re a little better,” Crocodile pulled you a little closer, “I bet you’re awfully cute.”

“Excuse me?” you let out a little gasp.

“Mihawk’s a sucker for pretty eyes and a gentle voice,” Crocodile explained, “I can’t say I blame him.  You definitely have both.  But there’s one thing that I can’t say no to that you just happen to have on you, too.”

“Really?” you started to let Crocodile’s fingers go, testing the waters a bit, “And what’s that?”

But Crocodile wasn’t going to let you go so easily.  He grabbed a hold of your jaw, not squeezing enough to cause you pain, but just enough to send a message, “I’m a sucker for a woman with a mouth on her.  And look at you, fitting the bill so nicely.”

A short jilt of fear ran through your body.  But then, you remembered what Perona said.  They weren’t going to hurt you.  And that included Crocodile.  You were safe in that castle.  Even though you were amongst pirates.  They weren’t all bad, you told yourself.  Just because they may have done some bad things didn’t make them bad at their core.  There could still be good in them.  Including the large man with his large hands on your face right now.

You weren’t afraid.

“And look at you,” you stood your ground, “Still proving my point.  Still not having any basic manners.  I thought you said you weren’t going to let go.”

“I still have a hold of you, don’t I?” Crocodile moved his hands back from your jaw to your hands again, “Feeling a little unstable, were you?”

“No,” you shook your head, “But I like the security.”

“You know,” Crocodile gave you a little spin.  Slowly, so you didn’t lose balance, “You’re not so bad, Princess.  I’m glad you washed up here. Who knows what would’ve happened if the wrong pirates picked you up instead of us?”

“That’s something I try not to think about,” you fell into Crocodile’s chest.

“Easy there,” Crocodile caught you, “Come on.  You’ve done enough.  You’re going to sit down.  Here.”

He pulled up his well cushioned chair and sat you down, “Thank you…”

“Sure,” Crocodile grabbed what used to be your chair and sat with you.

“I’m surprised Mihawk left us alone this long,” you joked a bit, “You were right.  He does kind of mother hen me around.  But it’s not all bad.”

“Oh?”

You shook your head, “He’s just concerned.  There’s nothing wrong with that.  Until it gets to the point of overbearing.  Then, there’s a problem.  I’m sure I can handle that if and/or when the time comes.”

“I don’t know,” Crocodile warned you, “Mihawk can get pretty ruthless.  You should see him when his protégé shows up.”

“What happened?” Twenty minutes ago, you were listening to this man tell Mihawk he wanted to drop you off at the next port.  You never expected to be sitting alone with him and gossiping about Mihawk.

“There was this one time he shows up,” Crocodile thought back, his feet kicked up on the table, “Mihawk loves a party.  I mean, he loves a party.  Can’t blame him.  Back in Alabasta, that was kind of a nightly thing for me, too.  But he shows up, not expecting it to be the day of a party Mihawk had been planning for months.  Mihawk was in no mood for a fight.  He was too busy doing shit for this party.  So, the kid still tries fighting him.  Mihawk still wasn’t having it.  So, by the third time he tries attacking him, Mihawk grabs this kid by his wrist, drags him down the hall, and I don’t know what happened after that.  But I do know he had come in looking like he had been sleeping in a barn for the last month and someone had to put him there after he passed out in the bar.  But when that kid came back out, he was completely ready for this party.  I felt bad for him.  I didn’t think Mihawk would’ve gone that far.  But he did.  And I have no doubt he’ll go that far with you, too.  Just…Be a little on your guard with that one.  And he’s got backup.”

“Perona?” you figured, “I know.  I’ve already met Perona.  She’s a sweetheart.”

“She’s a fucking ball of energy, that one,” Crocodile scoffed, “And you never know where she’s hiding.  She could be right here in this very room and we’d never know.”

“Because she is in this room and you wouldn’t know,” Perona chimed in, making herself known, “You didn’t really think Mihawk was going to leave you alone with her like this, did you?  Not when you wanted to give her the boot so quickly.”

“What?” Crocodile brushed her off, “I’m not allowed to change my mind now?  I hate to say it out loud, but Mihawk was right.  She might be worth keeping around for a while.”

“A while?” Perona grabbed your cheeks and mushed them together, “Look at this face, Crocodile.  Look at it!  In a perfect world, I wouldn’t let her leave.”

“That’s when this turns into a hostage situation, Perona,” you spoke through your mushed up face, “I’m sure I’ll leave one day.”

“But today is not that day,” Perona hugged you tight, “You just woke up.  You’re starting to get better.  And you just made a new best friend!  Why would you want to leave now…?”

“I don’t,” you regained feeling in your jaw, “But you also need to learn what personal space is.”

“Sorry,” Perona giggled a bit, “So…Crocodile…”

“Pain in the ass ghost…” Crocodile shot her a look, “What do you want?”

“You agree with Mihawk for a change?” Perona smirked, “We need to keep YN around?”

“For now,” Crocodile took your hand under the table, “You can’t tell me she wouldn’t make a nice addition around here.  Provisionally speaking.  I’m not saying she’s joining us.  But she’ll be nice to have around.  And because I know you’re going to run and tell Mihawk everything you just heard, you can tell him that, too.”

“That was the plan!” Perona took off, presumably to go see Mihawk, “See you later, YN!”

Crocodile slumped back in his chair, “She really is a pain in the ass.”

“And you have to live with her,” you giggled.

“So do you, Princess,” Crocodile pointed out, “At least for now.”

You moved in a little closer, studying Crocodile’s face.  You were no idiot.  You knew how to find someone’s tells, “Why do you call me Princess?”

“There’s an aura about you, YN,” Crocodile explained, “With the way Mihawk’s been babying you, I’m surprised he doesn’t call you Princess, too.  But there’s a way you’ve carried yourself since I saw you.  Even on that beach, you had something.  Even when I helped carry you to bed, there was something.”

“You…” you stopped him, “You carried me to bed?”

“You had to get from the beach to your bed somehow,” Crocodile nodded, “Yeah.  I’m the one that put you to bed.  On your bed anyway.  After I put you down, Mihawk did the rest.  He cleaned up your wounds, got you changed into something dry.”

“Wonderful,” you grumbled to yourself, “So, now I know Mihawk has seen me naked.”

“Actually,” Crocodile figured, “Chances are, it was more like Perona has seen you naked.  Mihawk may be many things, but he’s first and foremost a gentleman.  A pirate, yeah, but he has a little decorum.  And even in dire circumstances, he’s going to make sure your dignity is protected.  Lucky you.”

“That’s comforting.” But now, you got to live with the information that Perona has seen you naked.  Not that you really cared, but something about it still felt a little invasive.  Then again, it was better than sleeping in wet, cold clothes. 

“YN?” Mihawk rejoined them, “Is everything alright?  I thought I heard Perona in here.”

“You did hear Perona in here,” you nodded.

“It’s nice you send a spy this way, Mihawk,” Crocodile shot him an angry look, “Because of course, we can’t be trusted alone.”

“I never sent anyone,” Mihawk cocked his head, a bit confused.

“Uh-huh…” Crocodile wasn’t buying it, “Because Perona came in here of her own accord.  She already told us, Mihawk.  You don’t need to keep it a secret.”

“But I didn’t…” It was at that moment, Mihawk knew exactly what happened, “Perona!”

“You call, boss?” Perona poked her head in the door.

“Were you just in here?” Mihawk asked.

“I might have been,” Perona bit her lip, “What about it?”

“It’s the funniest thing,” Mihawk looked at her strangely, “Because according to Crocodile, he said I sent you to keep an eye on YN…”

“I never said that,” Perona lied through her teeth.

“Oh, bullshit, you didn’t!” Crocodile snapped.

“Crocodile,” Mihawk came between them, “Not your place to deal with her.  Perona…”

“Alright, alright,” Perona came clean, “I was bored, ok?  And worried.  Come on, Mihawk, can you blame me?  It’s YN.  And she was left alone with Crocodile!”

“And what’s so bad about her being left alone with Crocodile?” Crocodile wondered, nursing the wound to his pride, “I don’t want her hurt just as much as you.  I wouldn’t have done anything.  And you saw that with your own two eyes.  You watched as I helped her walk a little more, Perona.  Why would I hurt her when she’s already hurt?  There’s no honor in that.”

“That’s actually quite comforting to hear from you, Crocodile,” Mihawk let out a little sigh of relief, “I’m sorry for Perona’s actions.  I can assure you they won’t happen again.  And we will have a conversation later.  Do you understand?”

“Whatever…” Perona grumbled to herself.  And yet, you sat back and watched it all unfold. 

“Regardless,” Mihawk offered a hand to you, “We should get you back to bed.  How are you feeling?”

“Better,” you reported, “And Crocodile did help me walk a little.  I’m starting to get my leg muscles back.”

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Mihawk smiled a bit, “Come along.  Back to bed.”

“Ok,” you pulled yourself up with Mihawk’s assistance and held yourself steady, “It was nice meeting you, Crocodile…”

“You, too, Princess,” Crocodile shot you a wink that you felt right to your core.  And you were not mad about it.  You knew you were amongst some of the most delightful looking pirates the seas had to offer.  And to have the hearts of two out of the three felt like an accomplishment. 

Mihawk brought you back to your bed and tucked you in again.  You didn’t realize it at the time, but you were starting to feel a little dizzy.  Maybe a little more rest would set you back to where you were supposed to be.  But for now, you just wanted to lay down.  As glad as you were to get your leg muscles back up to strength, you weren’t entirely into the pain jolting through them.  It was just them getting back to functioning again.  Nothing more.  No real damage.

“YN,” Mihawk pushed your hair out of your face, “Could I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you nestled down into your bed, “What’s on your mind?”

“What made Crocodile call you Princess…?” Mihawk wondered, “Because I didn’t think he had pet names in him.”

“He said I gave off a vibe,” you remembered, “Something about how I carried myself.”

“It’s not that I don’t understand it,” Mihawk pulled your blankets over you a little better, “It’s just that…I don’t know.  It just felt interesting.”

“Well,” you felt your eyelids grow heavier, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he allowed, “Turnabout’s fair play, I suppose.”

“What do you see in me?” you babbled deliriously.

“Excuse me?” Mihawk perked up, not entirely understanding your question. 

“Crocodile said he started to understand what you saw in me,” you rubbed your eyes, forcing yourself to stay awake, “So, what do you see in me?”

Mihawk was caught so off guard by your question.  It wasn’t often anyone could fully render him speechless.  And yet, there was you.  He calmly collected himself and his sudden shock turned into a gentle smile, “I see a young lady who had something rather unfortunate happen to her.  And yet, despite being in a castle full of pirates, she doesn’t show fear.  She shows calm resilience.  She mouths off to a former Warlord of the Sea without batting an eye.  I have to admire that.  And even though it would’ve been so easy for you to let go of that one little piece of your ship you floated here on, you never did.  You held on.  You may not know why you held on, but you held on.  And yes, I understand we don’t know each other very well yet, but I do admire that about you.  You’re something special, YN.  And I’m glad you washed up on my beach.”

You let out a little yawn, “I’m glad I washed up here, too…”

“Now, that we have that cleared up,” Mihawk put a hand to your cheek, “Get some sleep, ok?  We’ll discuss things further in the morning.”

“Ok…” you shut your eyes, “Good night, Mihawk.”

“Good night, darling,” Mihawk closed your curtains and left you to sleep. 

And in his little gestures, in his gentle words…You felt safe.  Not just with him, but with Crocodile, too.  However, you still had yet to feel that safety and comfort with Buggy.  Much like Mihawk, you weren’t entirely buying his hands having a mind of their own story either.  He was the first one to want to kick you out.  He may have changed his mind in the library as you started to talk, but that didn’t give him the right to paw at you the way he did.  Still, as uncomfortable as it made you in the moment, you were pretty much over it.  It’s not like he got any further than your thigh.  And you did feel kind of bad for him after Mihawk ran a blade through his hand.  That was just a bit extreme for your tastes. 

In the middle of the night, you opened your eyes, feeling the most well rested you’ve been in days.  It was the strangest feeling.  You knew it was far too early in the morning to consider waking up for the day and yet, going back to sleep felt nearly impossible.  So, you did what any other sane, logical person would do.  You decided to test the limits of your legs again.  This time, you were going to do it all by yourself.  You could do it, you told yourself.  You were a capable woman.  You could manage.

When you stood up, you felt little aches and pains in your legs, but nothing more than that.  You were still standing.  You didn’t feel like you were going to collapse.  You didn’t feel like you were going to lose your balance.  You were standing.  And despite the pain, it felt wonderful.  You were doing it all on your own.  And you felt a little proud of yourself.  A couple steps unassisted grew your confidence.  And before you knew it, you had made a successful lap around the room.  You peeked out your window from between the curtains to see the moon still sparkling on the water.  It was so hard to believe that a sea so beautiful could be so harsh.  A feeling you knew all too well.  Since you were this far, you might as well take a little walk around the castle.  What else did you have to do?

You made sure you stayed close to the wall, just in case you did fall over.  If you had to crawl back to your bed, so be it.  But you didn’t need to make a spectacle of it.  You paid close attention to the cold stone on your bare feet.  The sensation put you at peace.  You weren’t sure how long you were going to be in this castle, but for the time being, you weren’t complaining.  Even in your old house, you never thought you’d ever see something so extravagant, let alone sleep there, temporarily leave there.  It was something beautiful, that was for sure.  But then, you heard a thump down the hall.  Of course, you flattened yourself against the wall, knowing you were about to be caught.

“Dammit…” That voice…You knew that voice.  You couldn’t help but settle your curiosity.  Slowly, you made your way down the hall and noticed a light coming from one of the bedrooms. 

You poked your head in the room and watched as a beautiful display played out in front of you.  Of silk ribbons hanging from the ceiling and a certain clown hanging from them.  He flipped and spun and twisted himself around in them in such a masterfully graceful way that you never would’ve expected from the man you met in the library trying to cop a feel.  He slid down those ribbons and regained his footing.  And that’s when he caught a shadow out of the corner of his eye.

“Hey!” he barked out.  Of course, you immediately went into hiding.  You did a quick look down the hall, hoping there was something you could hide behind.  Something that would make him think he was just seeing things.  That there was no one there.  And you would be safe.  Unfortunately, he found you hiding behind the door, “I don’t do shows for free, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry,” you winced, “I saw the light down here and…”

“Hey,” Buggy pointed out, “Shouldn’t you be asleep?  Could’ve sworn Mihawk tucked you in hours ago.”

“Tried going back to sleep,” you admitted, “But…”

“You couldn’t,” he assumed.  He studied you for a moment or two, glancing up and down before finally caving, “Come on.  You look like you could use a place to sit for a minute.”

“Do I?” you looked down at Buggy’s heavily bandaged hand.  Some of his blood had soaked all the way through.  In all honesty, it was strangely comforting.  You held onto the knowledge that Mihawk wouldn’t hesitate to hurt Buggy for you tightly. 

“Look,” Buggy insisted, “Come in.  Don’t come in.  It’s up to you.  I’m just saying you look like those legs don’t have many miles left on them.  Come on.  I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

“Are you sure about that?” you hoped, still not entirely trusting him.

You felt a little tap on your shoulder.  A singular finger floated next to you.  And a little grin stretched across Buggy’s face, “Pinky promise.”

You rolled your eyes at his lame joke, assuming that could’ve only been one of his pinkies, “Alright.”

“Alright,” Buggy took his pinky back and sat you down on the edge of his bed, “So, what’s got you awake?”

“I’ve done enough sleeping,” you shrugged, “It’s all I’ve done all day.  With the exception of eating a little.  And getting groped by some asshole clown.”

“Yeah…” Buggy winced, “That was me, wasn’t it?”

“It was you…”

“Yeah…” Buggy gnawed on his lip, “Sorry about that.  Really and truly.  I am sorry, YN.  That was stupid of me.  And clearly, I’m paying the price.”

“About that…” you asked, “How’s your hand?”

“Hurts like a bitch,” Buggy showed off his stupidity wounds, “Any other night, I’d be hanging upside down on a trapeze, but gripping the bar hurt too much.”

“So…” you got up and ran your hand down his ribbons, “You took to silks instead?”

“Mmhm,” he nodded, “Ever try it?”

“No,” you shook your head, “And right now, I don’t think it’d be the best time for me to try.”

“Not with that attitude, it’s not,” Buggy took you by the hand and held you steady, “I know it seems like it’d be a lot for you with your wiggly legs right now, but you don’t really use much for your legs.  Or at least you won’t for what I’d have you doing.”

“And…” you still held onto your skepticism, “What would you have me doing?”

“Something easy,” Buggy tied a knot in the silks at just above his waist, “I’m not going to let you get hurt.  Worse than you already are.”

“I’m not really that hurt,” you defended yourself, “I’m just a little sore.”

“I promise this is going to help you get back to sleep,” Buggy swore, “I’ve done this a million times before and it works every time.  Come here.”

“What are you doing?” you worried as Buggy’s hands went onto your waist.

“Nothing stupid,” Buggy promised, showing off his bandaged hand, “You really think I want to deal with Mihawk stabbing me again?  Not particularly.  Just…I know it’s going to be hard for you, but trust me.  I’m not going to let you get hurt.  I’m not going to do anything stupid.  Just…Trust me.”

As much as you didn’t want to, something in you said it was ok.  It might have been the multiple stab wounds Buggy sustained to his wandering hand.  You let out a little sigh, “Alright.  What do you need me to do?”

“First,” Buggy picked you up and sat you on the knot, “Keep your balance.  Can you do that much?”

“Mmhm,” you nodded, sitting on the knot, “Is this supposed to feel like a swing?”

“Kind of,” he nodded, “This is the part where it’s about to get weird.  Lean back as far as you can.  And when you can’t lean back anymore, I want you to wrap your left leg around the left ribbon.”

“Ok…” You weren’t sure where this was going, but you did as he asked.  However, you held on tight to the ribbon, afraid to go back any further, “Buggy!”

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” Buggy held your back up, “Like I said, YN, I’m not going to let you fall.  Just keep going.  I’ll keep you steady.  And hold onto the ribbon, too.  When you go to wrap your leg in the ribbon, you’re going to wrap inward.”

“Ok…” you leaned back a little more, just enough to get your leg wrapped up, “Now what?”

“You’re going to do the same thing with your right leg,” he guided you, “Wrap it inward.”

“Ok…” you wrapped your right leg just as Buggy told you, “What do I do now?”

“I know this part’s going to seem like the really scary part, but I promise it’s ok,” Buggy assured you, “Let go.”

“Are you fucking high?!” you snapped, “I’m not letting go!”

“YN, it’s ok,” Buggy insisted, “Let go.  You’re not going to fall.  I know it’s going to feel like you’re going to fall, but you will not go anywhere.  I promise you.  And if you do, you can yell for Mihawk or Crocodile and they can tear me apart all they want until you’re satisfied.  Ok?”

“Ok…” Slowly, but surely, your fingers started to let go of the ribbons.  First, your left hand.  And once you got used to it on the left side, you started to let go with the right.  And very gently, Buggy let you hang upside down.  And it made you nervous, “Buggy, I don’t like this.”

“And that’s understandable,” Buggy settled you, “But give it a second.”

“No,” you shook your head, “I don’t like this.”

“But it’s ok,” Buggy put a hand to your cheek, “Shut your eyes if you’re scared.”

You closed your eyes for just a moment.  But that’s when it happened.  When you started to sway a bit.  And the blood rushing to your head put you at ease.  You felt your whole body relax.  And your eyes opened back up, “Oh…”

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Buggy smirked a bit, “See?  I told you to trust me.  I knew what I was doing.”

“This is nice,” you agreed, swinging from the ceiling, “This is weirdly nice.  Why does this feel so good?”

“Because you’re getting blood to other parts of your body,” Buggy explained, “That and a lot of blood rushing to your head is bound to make you dizzy a little bit.  Kind of like if you were high.  And because it’s such a shock to your system, it’ll also help you fall asleep, too.”

“Really?” you wondered.

“How the hell should I know?” Buggy shrugged, “It sounded legit, though, didn’t it?  Even though it was just a whole line of bullshit.”

“It did,” you giggled a bit. 

“Hey…” Buggy spun you around a little, “By the way, I really am sorry about what happened today.  I was being a skeeve and you didn’t need that.  Sometimes, I forget there’s a whole person there, too.”

“There is,” you agreed, “But thank you.  Consider it forgiven.  If this gets me to fall asleep, consider it really forgiven.”

“How you feeling, doll?” Buggy asked, “Getting a little woozy yet?”

“Not yet,” you shut your eyes again, this time, not out of fear.  This time, it was more of a peaceful feeling.  You could feel your body decompress.  Every muscle in your body untensed.  And you felt yourself sliding down the ribbons, “Buggy…Buggy!”

“I got you,” Buggy kept holding on, “Tell you what.  Why don’t you take your legs out of the ribbons and rock yourself back up on the knot?  But slowly or you will yak all over my floor.  And quite frankly, I don’t feel like dealing with that tonight.”

“Alright,” you got your legs out of the ribbons and gradually brought yourself up again.  Once your vision wasn’t a pinhole anymore, you blinked yourself back into existence, “What the hell was that…?”

“That was more of that blood rush,” Buggy explained, giving you a little push, “How you feeling?”

“Like I could do that again,” you admitted, “It was fun.”

“You didn’t even get to the fun part,” Buggy helped you down, “The fun part is when you start climbing up the ribbons and doing all the fun flips and shit.  But that’s a lesson for another night.  You, young lady, need to get to bed.”

“Come on,” you whined, “This is too much fun.  Don’t make me get down now.”

“No,” Buggy shook his head, “Not that this isn’t fun and not that I don’t want to be the fun uncle that lets you stay up late, eat your weight in sugar, and accidentally rent porn, but you really should get some sleep, K?”

“Fine,” you took his hand and slid down from the knot.  The impact you made with the floor sent shockwaves of pain up your legs, “Fuuuuuuck…”

“Are you ok?” Buggy held you steady.  But then, he realized and winced on your behalf, “Ooh…Yeah…That’s probably not good for you, is it?”

“No,” you cringed, “No, it’s not.”

“Come on,” Buggy threw you on his back, “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“Thank you,” you draped your arms over his shoulders and laid your head in his shoulder, “I could still probably walk, though.”

“I saw that face, doll,” Buggy pushed his door open.  And he suddenly grew quieter, “There’s no way in hell that felt good for any of us.  If you don’t have to walk, you don’t need to.  I got you.”

“Ok,” you shut your eyes again, “Hey, Buggy?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for this,” you hugged him around his neck, “I really do appreciate it.”

“You found me, YN,” Buggy pointed out, “You were the one to come into my room.”

“And you could’ve kicked me out,” you argued, “But you didn’t.  Admit it.  You don’t want me to go either, do you?”

“For the plain and simple fact that it’d mean getting to watch you do that again,” Buggy admitted, “No.  I don’t want you to go.  Because I bet you’d get good at it.”

“And then, I’d be available all the time for private shows?” you figured.

“Not a chance,” Buggy grabbed the door to your room, “I wouldn’t do that to you.  I might do that a time or two to you.”

“I figured,” you felt Buggy gently put you down on the bed, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Buggy left a little kiss on your forehead, “Get some sleep, alright?  We…may need to talk a little more in the morning.”

“About what?” you asked.

“Just…” Buggy backed off, “Get some sleep.  You worry about getting better.  Got it?”

“Got it,” you smiled a bit, “Good night, Buggy.”

“Night, doll,” Buggy left you alone and started heading back down the hall.

“Look at you, YN…A gentleman caller this late at night?  What would Mihawk and Crocodile have to say about that?”

“Hi, Perona,” you weren’t even fazed anymore, “It was just Buggy putting me to bed.  It’s not the end of the world.”

“Excuse me?” Perona crawled next to you in your bed, yet again with no regards for personal space.  But again, it hardly fazed you anymore.  With the way she had been in and out of your room while you’ve recovered, Perona was practically your nurse at this point, “Buggy, the guy who had his hands on you in the library and then, ended up getting violently stabbed by Mihawk in that same hand.  That Buggy?”

“He was helping me get to sleep,” you brushed her off, “I needed to go back to sleep.  I saw light in Buggy’s room.  We talked for a bit.  He had me upside down.  Everything was fine.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Perona stared you down, “What do you mean, he had you upside down?”

“He had me upside down,” you reiterated, “I was hanging off his silk ribbons and it felt fantastic, Perona.  I highly recommend it if you get the chance.”

“Oh, YN,” Perona winced, “You weren’t a victim or anything like that, were you?”

“No,” you rolled your eyes, “I was fine.  I was totally ok.”

“So,” Perona hoped, “I don’t have to go back and tell Mihawk about this?  Nothing to be worried about?”

“No,” you shook your head, “And if you really wanted to know, when we were in his room, we got to talking and he apologized for being gross.  I get an apology.  I get help with sleeping.  Hell, I didn’t even have to walk back to my room.  It’s a good night to be me.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really would like to go to sleep.”

“I…” Perona was still baffled by the notion that you would’ve even thought about going to Buggy’s room alone.  Let alone him apologizing.  But still, she conceded, “Ok.  Good night, YN.”

“Good night, Perona…” you shut your eyes again, letting sleep finally take you back over.

Of course, you weren’t going to tell Perona about your potential meeting the next morning.  That was your business.  And possibly Buggy’s.  And possibly Mihawk and Crocodile’s, too.  But you could let you worry about that tomorrow morning.  Present you needed more sleep.  And thanks to Buggy hanging you upside down, you were going to be ok.  And you’d finally be able to catch some of the most incredibly restful sleep you’ve had since you landed on Kuraigana Island. 

However, it felt like it never lasted long enough.  The sun started to peek through your curtains and serve as your alarm clock.  You were feeling much better than you did the day before.  You didn’t feel like your body had just gone through the blender.  You felt good.  Actually good.  That didn’t mean you were immune to odd things happening the moment you woke up.  Because you could feel something cold.  You expected the warmth from the sun, not a random cold spot.

“Morning, cutie pie…” Nor were you expecting Perona floating over your bed.

You blinked a few times, thinking this was just a weird little dream.  But you knew better.  You may not have been there long, but you knew enough, “Perona, what the fuck?”

“What?” Perona flopped down into your bed, “I can’t come in to wake you up?”

“I was waking up just fine on my own,” you rolled over, briefly considering going back to sleep.  But the bathroom looked much more inviting, “But good morning to you, too, I guess.”

“See?” Perona chirped, “Was that so difficult?”

“Excruciatingly so, yes,” you smiled a bit on the other side of the bathroom door.  At least you knew there were places where Perona did have a sense of boundaries.  At this point, you were lucky she didn’t follow you into the bathroom like a little puppy.

“Love you, too, YN!” Perona slid down the wall and sat on the floor outside the door, “By the way, I’m not just here on a social call.”

“Really?” you walked out of the bathroom, “And what did you come here for?”

“Mihawk’s in the middle of making breakfast,” Perona explained, “And he wants you to come downstairs as soon as you can.  K?”

“I can do that,” you nodded, already with an inkling of what this was all about, “Is everyone else downstairs or is it just me he’s wanting?”

“Everyone else is downstairs, too,” Perona took your hand, “Wait, you got from the bed to the bathroom just fine.”

“Yeah,” you felt a few cracks as you got out of bed again, but they felt way too good to be anything bad, “I did.  Maybe being flipped upside down knocked a few things back into place last night.  Remind me to kiss that damn clown when I see him.”

“Who would’ve thought it’d help?” Perona shrugged, “So, you don’t need me to hold your hand while you’re walking?”

“I’m not going to overdo it,” you promised, “But no.  I think I can manage on my own.”

“Alright,” Perona backed off, “But I’m just saying.  Sure, you can walk on flat surfaces, but once you get to those stairs, it’s going to be a bitch.”

“I’ll be fine,” you were already almost to the staircase.  And that handrail looked so inviting.  Slowly, you took on the steps.  One by one.  And look at that.  You made it downstairs with no problems.  Sure, you were a little sore and a little winded, but you managed. 

“YN?” Perona started to worry, though, “You good?”

“I’m fine,” you heaved at the end of the railing, “I’m alright.  I will be.  When did my grandma get here?”

“Your grandma isn’t here, YN…”

“She also died when I was, like, eleven,” you thought back, “I thought you could see ghosts and shit, too.”

“She’s not here, YN,” Perona sat you down on the stairs, “Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you brushed her off, “I was just fucking with you.  Just me being a little dramatic.”

“You’re the worst,” Perona helped you back up onto your feet and brought you into the kitchen. 

You didn’t really know what to expect, but this level of extravagance wasn’t it.  The whole kitchen was absolutely beautiful.  Dark marble counters, copper finishes…It was incredible.  And if you didn’t know any better, you’d think there was a garden of fresh herbs growing on the wall.  You weren’t complaining.  You could feel the energy in that kitchen.  There was something special there.  And whoever tended to it and used it understood just how special it was.

“Good morning, YN,” Mihawk greeted you, a little smile on his face, “It’s good to see you’re up and about.  And all by yourself.  I’ll call that a good sign of things to come.”

“Yeah,” you stretched a bit, “Turns out getting a little more sleep and whatever the hell Buggy did for me last night really helped.”

“Hold on,” Mihawk stopped you.  What you didn’t realize was both Buggy and Crocodile were comfortably tucked away at the breakfast table near the big window on the other side of the garden wall, “What the fuck did you do last night, Clown?  Did you not learn yesterday?”

“I didn’t put a hand on her, Mihawk!” Buggy assured him, “I even told her I was sorry for that.  Go on, YN.  Tell him.”

“You didn’t put a hand on me last night, Buggy,” you smirked, “You put both hands on me.  And I’m pretty sure you gave me a little kiss good night, too.”

“You did what?” Crocodile stepped in, getting just as defensive as Mihawk did.

“You really can’t keep them to yourself, can you?” Mihawk pulled a knife out of the block on the counter, “Go on.  Both of them.”

“Easy, boys,” you called them off, “It was all ok.  I didn’t tell him no on any accounts.  He just helped me get to sleep.  I couldn’t sleep last night and Buggy still had lights in his room, so I went down there just so I wasn’t all by myself.  We talked, he hung me upside down on his silks, and I went back to bed.  I think the little forehead kiss was mostly reflexive.  It didn’t seem nefarious.  Put the knife down, Mihawk.  He doesn’t need matching stab wounds on his hands.”

“Alright,” Mihawk slowly slid the knife back into the block, “Go on.  Sit.”

“Whatever you did last night,” Crocodile noticed, helping you into your chair, “It certainly helped fix something in you.”

“Mmhm,” you nodded, “I think being upside down like that helped decompress my spine a little.  And it went into my legs.  It felt nice in the moment.”

“I’m glad I could help you out,” Buggy shot you a little smile.  And for whatever reason, it got to you.  It warmed you inside like nothing else.  Well…except for maybe one thing…Perhaps two…

“Thank you,” you melted into your seat.  But then, reality set back in, “Perona said you wanted to talk, Mihawk.”

“I do,” Mihawk nodded, bringing you a fresh quiche because someone was feeling fancy for breakfast this morning.  And you’d be lying if you said it didn’t look absolutely fantastic.  Only the best for you, “And I’m sure we can all unanimously agree on this.”

“I see,” you gave him a nod as he served you a piece of this beautifully made spinach quiche, “Well, since I’m all better, I’m sure that after breakfast, you’re going to bring me to the next port, right?  Drop me off, probably pick up some supplies for the house, and we go our separate ways, yeah?  I mean, I am better now.  Once I get a decent meal in me and probably a shower, we’ll take off.”

Never had you ever seen three hearts shatter simultaneously before.  And just with a few words.  Mihawk sat next to you and took your hand, “No, YN.  It’s not like that at all.”

“We’ve been talking all morning,” Crocodile chimed in, “And we think it’d be best if you stayed here for a while.”

“Why?” you wondered, genuinely curious.  You already had thought you overstayed your welcome, but this was interesting.

“Because, darling,” Mihawk pulled you a little closer, “We’ve all…Well, let’s just say love doesn’t come easy.  To any of us.  Buggy’s a pain in the ass.  I’ve been on my own for so long that I hardly even remember what the concept is.  Crocodile’s last love broke him for a while.  But then, something interesting happened.  Something absolutely extraordinary.”

“What?” You had a feeling where Mihawk was going with this.

“Some girl decided to wash up on the beach outside our house,” Buggy pointed out, “And that feels too much like a sign.”

“We could’ve just thrown you back in the sea,” Crocodile pointed out, “And yet, we couldn’t.”

“So, we have a little proposal to ask of you,” Mihawk took control again, “We don’t want you to go.  If you want to go, that’s understandable.  We won’t fight you.  We’ll do as you asked and take you to the nearest port.  But…”

“If you didn’t want to go that route…” Buggy hoped.

“You could just stay here with us,” Crocodile crossed his fingers, “I’m pretty sure I speak for all of us when I say no one here would say no.”

And there it was.  There’s what you were waiting for.  But you had some concerns, “So, which one of you would be laying your claims to me?”

“Excuse me?” Mihawk perked up.

“What do you mean, YN?” Crocodile wondered.

“Which one…?” Buggy was just as lost.

“I’m sure there’d have to be some sort of death match amongst the three of you,” you assumed, “So, which one of you would be laying your claims to me?”

“One?” Mihawk pulled you a little closer, “No, no, no, darling.  We don’t play those games here.  We would all be sharing you equally.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” you grinned, “But we’d have to come up with some kind of system.  Something to make this fair for everyone.  Because I’m not bedhopping every night.”

“That’s fair,” Buggy agreed.

“How about this?” Crocodile thought, “For one week, you stay with one of us.  We’ll let you decide what the order will be.”

“Alright,” you could get on board with that, “But for one week, I get to be by myself.  The room I’ve been recovering becomes mine.  And it’s all to myself.”

“Why one week?” Buggy wondered, “Why do you get a week away from us?”

“I wouldn’t be away from you,” you assured him, holding your face in your hands, “Perona!”

“You call?” Perona apparated seemingly out of nowhere.  Something it looked like you were going to have to get used to.

“If I were to move in here a little more permanently,” you asked, “And every week, I bounced between Crocodile, Mihawk, and Buggy’s bedrooms, why do you think there would be a week where I would want my bed all to myself?”

“Oh, duh,” Perona rolled her eyes, “I thought that one would’ve been a given.  Yeah, sorry, YN.  I kind of necromanced my insides, so I don’t get one of them anymore.”

“Lucky you,” you grumbled, still with a functioning reproductive system that went off like clockwork.

“Oh…” Crocodile figured it out, “That’s understandable.”

“What’s understandable?” Because if you were living in this house, you were going to get them comfortable saying it. 

“You want a week off for your period,” Crocodile assumed.

“That’s right,” you applauded, “Good for you, Crocodile.  I’m proud of you for figuring that out.”

“I do not miss that…” Crocodile mumbled to himself.

“Hey,” you gave him a light shove, “I don’t ask for it.  It just happens.  Without my permission.  It’s bullshit, I know, but here we are.”

“Regardless,” Crocodile kissed the top of your head as he slid his chair out, “Welcome aboard, YN.  Let me know when you make that decision.  I’m going to go make a call.”

“Who are you calling?” Mihawk wondered.

“An old friend,” Crocodile brushed him off, “Well, I say friend.  More like this little gremlin I know that I need to say thank you to.  Yell if you need me.”

“Ok!” Buggy shooed him off, “So, YN.  Who are you going to start with?”

You weren’t entirely sure, but you knew one thing for certain.  This was about to be the beginning of something wonderful.

[henrioo]

°•*⁀➷ THE BIG CROCO BROTHER: CROCODILE

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "Being a father was not easy, imposing limits was necessary and no matter how cute his face was, that of the Crocodile's only son, he couldn't allow you to do whatever you wanted... Especially when you're running around with three deadly wild animals."

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : PLATONIC RELATIONSHIP! NON ROMANCE, Father and Son! Male reader! Child reader! Soft dad Crocodile! Cross guild! Savage animals (bananawani), the reader has a powerful man in his control (his own dad)

꒰ WC ꒱ : 1k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : And here I'm again, trying to post again and idk, nothing much to say today, my mood is horrible and my life sucks, but here some family fluffy to see if that motivates me to write again. Also the names of the wani are terrible because my discord friends choose them lol hahahah blank/no pronouns/fem=block

Crocodile was listening to Mihawk talking about the latest news he had gotten on his last trip, Buggy was looking at some maps that his henchmen had given him and the lizard himself was looking at the management papers of that entire alliance. At least now it was working a little better and giving more profit than headaches, but Crocodile still refused to accept that a circus really had so many needs and needed such a big budget just for those pathetic shows... that clown was probably deceiving.

“FUCK!” Buggy shouted, making the dark-haired man snap out of his reverie and try to figure out what the shouting was about.

It was then that he saw a peculiar scene that had curiously been repeated a lot in the last few days. One of the baby bananawani was biting Buggy's leg, another seemed to be eager to eat the clown's colorful papers and the third and last was trying... no, he was begging for a lap to the strongest swordsman in the world who simply stared at him without reaction.

You see, being a parent is extremely difficult. Being a father and being a pirate with a young son and with Crocodile's current situation is even more so, he wouldn't want that to be the case but he really managed to be quite absent, he tried to make up for it by spoiling you and the problem was that he spoiled you a bit too much. You weren't a bad or rude child, but you simply faithfully believed that you could have the world at your feet if you asked your father nicely. Of course you could, but it wasn't good for your ego to be completely sure of it.

So, in a way of trying to teach you some good values like responsibility and any other nonsense, he left you in charge of taking care of three bananawani babies. You needed to feed them, take them out of the water tank, clean the tank, all the normal activities of a normal pet. With the difference that your pets were deadly creatures even as babies and were more than ready to rip off some arms for your protection.

“(Y/n), what did we talk about getting them out of the tank?” Crocodile sighed, this wasn't the first time the babies had wandered around the ship instead of being safe in their water tanks. He can still hear the cries of the henchmen who received unexpected bites because their pets were out of control.

“I’m sorry daddy” you said entering the room, you quickly went to the baby in Mihawk and picked him up. Not completely up since that single bananawani baby must have been heavier than you, so you just held him the best you could with his entire lower part dragging on the floor.

Buggy whimpered trying to pull the baby off his leg which only made him bite harder, causing the clown to scream again. Crocodile sighed and got up to help you deal with the mess.

“They’re still too young to wander around alone, they’ll just create trouble” he tried to convince you again.

“But... Miss Banana Split was sad” you said worriedly as you looked at the lizard in your arms who was smiling happily like a baby in his parents arms. Crocodile could feel Mihawk's eyes on him from the animal's name but he decided to ignore it.

“They are sweet animals, they don’t get sad” he tried to convince you, ruffling your hair.

“Of course they stay! Mr. Banana even whines!” You said with a huge hurt pout, heavens you really loved those animals...

“Look at feelings, I don’t know, but this pest is really hungry and is about to swallow my leg, so if you can have a father-son moment another time, I’d appreciate it!” Buggy screamed desperately, shaking his leg again, trying to free the animal, but in vain.

“Sorry, Mr. Buggy… Drake is eating too much these days…” you said, releasing the one in your arms and going to take the other one off the clown’s leg. Luckily the animal was happy to be picked up by you and easily released its prey.

“Drake?” Buffy looked at you perplexed, was that the fucking name you chose?

“Don’t you dare” Crocodile growled at him as if he could read his thoughts. It was a clear message, make my son ashamed of the names he chose and you will become real bananawani food.

“They like being close to you daddy” you said petting Drake who was rubbing against you, the other two cubs at Crocodile’s feet.

“Of course they do, I was there when they were born, that doesn't mean you can let them loose like that” he crouched down to your height “They're still cubs and without training, you won't find it fun if they actually eat someone's leg would you?” Crocodile would find it hilarious, but you were a good-hearted child so you just shook your head “See? So for now let’s keep them in the tank and teach them some tricks, if they can behave you can spend more time with them, okay?”

"Okay!" You smiled happily at the possibility of continuing the walk with your animals, without waiting any longer you picked up Drake and dragged him out of the room, followed by the other two animals.

Crocodile sighed, satisfied that you would obey him for now, at least this way he would stop hearing the clown crying.

“Drake? Seriously? What the fuck is that name? For a bananawani!” Buffy said shocked once you were far enough away, he wasn't even paying attention to the ruined maps.

“Shut up…” your father would also love to know where you got that name from but that was an answer that not even you had.

“I actually found Miss Banana Split quite charming” Mihawk said with a cocky grin at Crocodile who just snorted, getting annoyed. He didn't mind having a son as his weakness, but having that weakness exposed and made fun of was something he hadn't gotten used to yet.

“Go back to work” he said irritably, just wanting to pretend that none of that had happened.

[ideas-4-stories]

helloooo! I am once again sharing the cross guild Argentina au ideas. the brainworms are brainworming

also, Romantic Cross Guild!

•Alone, Mihawk would only drink fernet straight up and treat it with as much reverence as a glass of wine. But! With Buggy he starts to be fond of sharing it back and forth as it is meant to, a drink to be shared and enjoyed, he starts to get more loose and eventually he learns to share the moments and be a part of a group that loves him just as much as he loves them. Crocodile wasn't fond of fernet to begin with, but he also got fond of it after Buggy taught them the love that can be shared with it.

•Buggy has an atrocious sweet tooth, borderline solid diabetes. What else did we expect from a clown? Anyways, aside from all the piracy criminal stuff that Cross Guild does, I genuinly think that Buggy would beg on his knees, on his hands, pouting, crying and doing the biggest pretty please he could so Crocodile lets him hire bakers so that they would make him his favourite facturas and sweets every morning and also sold off for a little profit, but mostly for him to eat at mreakfast and merienda. Crododile does try his hardest to resist the pouting clown but he's helpless and obligues after a little while. They now have the best bakers money can get in the island and Crocodile and Mihawk get sugary kisses every morning now. They might have started liking sugar more if it is in their daily clown kisses...but nobody has to know that shhh. Also now on their list of services to offer they have Sweet Argentinian Facturas among other silly little things like murder, kidnapping, taking down pirate ships, y'know, the usual.

•Crocodile is one of the only people in the whole island that drinks mate the bitterest shit yerba can get it and as hot as volcanic lava, nobody wants to drink with him. Mihawk doesn't drink mate, he's more of a terere guy, and Buggy drinks mate with one kilo of sugar on top and midly cold (hes just like me fr). So that's why all three only share the table they put the things on. Every evening at merienda time the table has one stanley termo (like a one liter thing that stores water and keeps it hot), one jug of iced juice, one flashy hand-painted classic metalic kettle, and a distressful amount of sweets and sandwiches and bizcochos of various types and forms. It is always full of color and warmth and love.

▪︎Buggy can and will gobble up a whole jar of dulce de leche with spoonfulls. Croco and Mihawk are horrified.

▪︎Mihawk mainly dresses whith white loose shirts, used to hot climate like in Cordoba. So the moment winter starts he does not go out at all, he is deep in blankets. Buggy and Croco are very amused, but also find it a little cute

▪︎Crocodile gets up at 6am no matter what, even worse, he is an old ass cranky morning person. Mihawk and Buggy do not like it but, he is THEIR old ass cranky morning person, what're they gonna do about it?

(In this AU I headcanon Karai Bari island as looking less tropical and more like the woods around El Bólson(a village?city?town?in argentina) incluiding all the mountains and cascades and rivers and lakes and woods there are there, so the next places i will name are real ones, you can google them i love them all)

•As their first official date together they decide that nothings better than the Bosque de las Hadas (Fairy Forest) because of how magical and quiet it is there, after all, the fairys and gnomes are just stories, right?

Well, turns out stories are there for a reason, the start the date and everything is beautiful and they have the whole forest to themselves so they go al lovey dovey and suddenly they start hearing weird shit until they have to run out of the forest with Crocodiles help. At the end they had a disastrous date and Mihawk was kinda devastated inside, cuz he had suggested the Fairie Forest, but his partners made sure to make him know that it was interesting anyway and they spent a good time even if they were chased off by tiny feral fairies. Smooches are required and they do...other things too...

•As for their next day, they try a place with less magic in it, they fo to the Waterfalls. They have to do a little hicking; Mihawk is unbothered and enjoying the forest, Crocodile cheats with his sand a little, and Buggy whines the whole way up even if he is enjoying it, his whining stops when Crocodile puts him up on his shoulders and does indecent and spontaneous ass-grabbing. The Waterfalls gets to witness public indecency. It is a beautiful and succesful second date.

oooops i got carried away. anyway thank u for your time! have a good day :}

Sorry it took so long to reply, many long projects for school came one after another. Then I had no motivation for some days, but I'm back and I just have to say that I love these ideas. Them drinking together with something they either don’t drink with others or don’t drink at all is so cute to imagine!

I’ve heard ideas where Devil Fruit users need something that gives them energy or something like that… it could be food of some sort or smoking. I wonder if that’s true, Buggy’s must be sugar. Poor Mihawk and Crocodile, watching Buggy eat an entire dinner worth of sugar a day like Crocodile smoking through a pack or two of cigars a day isn’t bad as well.

I’m chuckling because I see Mihawk popping his head out of some blankets with Crocodile and Buggy, thinking Mihawk is being so cute. Love that Crocodile is their cranky old person in the morning. Karai Bari being more woodland area than topical looks nice in my mind, the fairy forest with little feral fae chasing them is so funny to think about. I wonder who pissed them off? The second date is everything, Buggy complaining about the shits n giggles, then gets lifted up onto Crocodile’s shoulder, now able to see more things with price of some public indecency.

[acescorazon]

i know you like old man yaoi but have you considered old woman yuri (i want bughawk to kiss and be in love)

Hello, Nonnie whose identity I do not know!!! Thanks for your request!!! This series is partially for you, but it's kind of a slow burn, so there won't be any kisses and lovey-dovey stuff for a little while :) ANYWAYS. Starting another new series (because I was bullied) Where (Fem) Buggy gets thrown overboard during a storm and Mihawk (also fem) rescues her and swims them to shore. Things are a little messy at first because Buggy is pretty sure Mihawk hates her, and Buggy hates Mihawk just as much, if not more, but they figure it out, eventually. Enjoy!

Title: Coexisting (But just barely)

Pairing: Fem!Bughawk Ch: 1/? (i'm so sorry.)

Rating: M (I'm just going to rate it that as a whole.)

Word count: 2178

Warnings: Crocodile. Near death experiences. Language.

Chapter excerpt:

“Don’t be a wimp.”

At what point do they actually start panicking and say enough is enough?  With a groan, Buggy makes a desperate attempt to get back to her feet and once she does manage to stand up straight, the very next moment, yet another wave hits the side of their ship, capsizing it.

Buggy never stood a chance. She’s dumped into the water and there’s nothing she can do, but sink while being engulfed by complete darkness. Is she really going to die because of Crocodile’s negligence? Man, this sucks. She should have never borrowed money from Crocodile. Maybe if she were a little wiser, then Cross Guild would have never become a thing, and she wouldn’t be seconds away from her dying.

Oh, they fucked up.

Buggy tried to warn Crocodile that there was a storm approaching earlier, and she thinks her exact response was, “I ain’t afraid of no rain.” Okay, yeah, neither is Buggy, but this is more than just a light drizzle. It’s stinging hail that keeps slashing at their faces, it’s howling winds that are strong enough to knock even the mighty Sir Crocodile herself over, It’s waves the size of Elbaf giants that, when they aren’t smashing against the sides of the boat and threatening to capsize it, are sending them high up in the air and then hurling them back down to earth, but Crocodile doesn’t seem to care about all that.

Buggy grips the rails to the ship tightly as more hail whips across her face, and there’s this nasty voice at the back of her head that keeps reminding her that if she lets go, she’s as good as dead. Right now she can barely see in front of her, but she still squints her eyes and tries to look at the giant figure at the helm, “Crocodile!” She screams over the raging wind, “Turn back.” This is insane.  Maybe in a different situation, she’d tell her to push through the storm like the other woman definitely wants to, but her gut is telling her there’s no way they’re going to make it through this monster, and they definitely can’t sit it out either.

The island they were just at is so close, yet…

Crocodile makes no effort to turn the ship around, and over all the noise, Buggy can faintly hear her yell back,“Quit being a wimp.”  she’s a wimp for wanting to live?! She groans as she finally comes to the realization that Crocodile isn’t going to listen to reason, at least not from her. She looks around for Mihawk, and she could have sworn that she was near Crocodile earlier, but now she’s nowhere to be found. “Hawkeye?” She calls out, concerned, because the last time she checked the only ones who hadn’t run inside the ship were the three of them, and she hadn’t heard Mihawk go inside, not that she can hear much right now anyways.

Buggy doesn’t receive an answer after calling Mihawk’s name, so she turns her attention back to Crocodile, who’s struggling to stand on her own two feet as the wind blows against her. “Crocodile, where’s Hawkeye?” She asks, but doesn’t get an answer from her either, Crocodile’s way too focused on trying to keep a grip on the ship’s wheel. Oh, this is just freaking great, Buggy thinks. The last thing they need right now is to lose one of their crewmates if you can even consider them a crew.

She looks over her shoulder, trying to see if she can see anything that might indicate that Mihawk’s still on the ship. Any little sign of life will do; Her hat, her coat, her sword, anything, but she can see none of those things. Did she fall off the ship? “Mihawk? Are you okay?” Now, there is a chance that Mihawk is somewhere on the ship and just can’t hear Buggy over the sounds of heavy rains and thunder, but there’s also the chance that she might have gone overboard during one of the several times the ship was thrown up in the air. “Crocodile, where’s Hawkeye?” She yells again, this time a little louder.

Crocodile hears her this time and briefly looks around her before replying in a rather indifferent voice, “Who knows?” She could at least act like she’s concerned for someone who’s her friend, or at least Buggy always assumed they were friends. Hell, Mihawk and Buggy hate each other, but Buggy’s still concerned about her safety. “What if she went overboard?” She asks, and if Crocodile were anyone but….well, Crocodile, then she’d probably be panic-stricken right now.

“That’s her own problem.”  

Oh, she’s a mad woman and she needs to be stopped because if she doesn’t care about Mihawk potentially going overboard, then she sure as hell won’t care about what happens to Buggy or the rest of the crew. Buggy takes a deep breath and inches her way towards Crocodile, “Crocodile, turn around!” she shouts.

Crocodile glances at her through wet bangs, which means she definitely heard her, but she doesn’t respond. Enough’s enough, Buggy thinks, hating herself for even letting things get this far. She shouldn’t have let her men leave the island. She should have kept them safe, but she didn’t. She was too scared to actually go against Crocodile, and now look at them.  Good God, this is insane.

Buggy doesn’t know what the game plan is, but she has to get Crocodile away from the helm.  She takes a deep breath and lets go of the only thing keeping her safe. She struggles to make it the few feet across the deck to where Crocodile is and almost loses her footing a few times, but she’s almost there. She doesn’t care what Crocodile does to her, she has to get a hold of the wheel, she has to turn back.

Buggy's fingertips just barely brush against the plush fabric of Crocodile’s coat when all of a sudden another monstrous wave slams into the side of their ship, damn near capsizing it for real this time. “Fuc--” She yelps as her feet slip from underneath her, and she goes sliding across the deck. No matter how hard she tries, she can’t stop, and she hits the deck, shoulder first and with a hard thud. Crocodile’s words repeat in her head as pain shoots up her shoulder.

'Don’t be a wimp.'

At what point do they actually start panicking and say enough is enough?  With a groan, Buggy makes a desperate attempt to get back to her feet and once she manages to stand up straight, the very next moment, yet another wave hits the side of their ship, capsizing it.

Buggy never stood a chance. She’s dumped into the water and there’s nothing she can do but sink while being engulfed by complete darkness. Is she really going to die because of Crocodile’s negligence? Man, this sucks. She should have never borrowed money from Crocodile. Maybe if she were a little wiser, then Cross Guild would have never become a thing and she wouldn’t be seconds away from dying.

Usually around this time, one of her men heroically jumps into the water to save her, but her poor men probably don’t even know what hit them. She rushed them inside to try to keep them away from the danger, but in the end, none of that mattered because the boat tipped over, and now devil fruit users and non-devil fruit users are all screwed.  

She tries not to breathe for as long as she can, but eventually, she can’t take the burn in her lungs and she has no other choice but to breathe in the ocean around her.  It’s agonizing, to say the least, and she knows, she fucking knows that she can’t swim, but she still tries to propel herself upward and try to save herself but to no avail. Buggy feels as useless as a piece of trash sinking to the bottom of the sea right now, and she hates it. She hates how every time she’s thrown into the water, she’s unable to move let alone swim because back in the day she used to be the best swimmer on her crew, well, second best.  

A wave of exhaustion also hits her to make matters worse, and she just wants to go to sleep. Maybe that’s what she should do. Maybe she should just stop struggling and accept her cruel fate. No one’s coming for her. Her men are probably confused and trying to get off the ship right about now, and if they don’t drown right away, surely the storm will sweep them away. This is all Crocodile’s fault, and she swears if she sees her in the afterlife she’s going to make her regret this bullshit. 

 

Something grabs Buggy by the waist just when she’s on the brink of going unconscious, but she can’t tell what’s got her. For all she knows it could be a sea king, and she’s not sure if she’d rather die from being eaten by a sea king or if she’d rather die from drowning, but it probably doesn’t matter anyways. Dead is dead.  She doesn’t fight whatever has her though, she just wants this nightmare to be over with. (Also, she hopes that the same thing that has her eats Crocodile too, if it is a sea king.) Much to her surprise though, whatever, or rather whoever has her starts pulling her up to the surface.  

This can't be real. She's sinking to the bottom of the sea, moments away from meeting an untimely end. She's not actually being rescued right now. That's impossible, who would even be able to see her and rescue her? This has to be some sort of delusion. This can't be real.

Rather quickly, though, the darkness surrounding her disappears, and before she has time to comprehend what’s going on, her head is reaching the surface and her lungs are burning as she gasps for air then proceeds to start coughing. Maybe this isn’t a delusion, or if it is, then Buggy doesn’t want to know the truth. As she tries to catch her breath, she looks up to see who rescued her and almost passes out.

“Hawkeye?” She calls out, weakly, still not convinced that she hasn’t died and gone to hell or something. It just doesn’t make sense for her to actually come to her aid, she hates her guts! But even if she did come to save her… How was she able to see in that cold abyss and find her?  Where did she even come from?

Mihawk stares at her with an unreadable expression on her face. She takes a moment to catch her own breath before looking away and finally muttering, “Oh, it’s you.”  

The words, 'Oh, it’s you.' echo throughout Buggy’s head, and a part of her wants to tell Hawkeye to drop her back into the ocean and let her drown for real this time because seriously? What does that mean? 'Oh, it’s you.' Who was she trying to rescue? Crocodile? “What’s that supposed to mean?” Buggy complains in a hoarse voice. She’s so close to Mihawk's face right now, that she could… she could just bite it off! Who cares if they both end up drowning after that?

“...I thought you were a little too light to be Crocodile.”

“Why don’t you drop me and go find her instead? “

Sometimes Buggy doesn’t quite understand why she does the things she does and, much to her horror, Mihawk does let go of her, and Buggy swears her life flashes before her eyes as she feels herself start to fall a little. She reaches out, quickly grabbing onto Mihawk and clinging to her. “Don’t! I was just kidding!” She whimpers, “I don’t wanna die.”

Mihawk sighs, “Then be quiet.” The annoyed tone in her voice kinda pisses Buggy off, and she really wants to say something, but this isn’t the time to be fighting with her. Their boat just capsized and now that Buggy’s gotten the chance to look around, she doesn’t see their ship or anyone else around for that matter, and she’s unsure if she’s the one who got swept away or if it was them. “What now?” Buggy asks.

Mihawk gives her a rather nonchalant reply, “We swim to the shore.”

”Are you crazy?” Buggy frowns, “We’ll drown before we make it ashore.”

“We’ll drown if we stay here and do nothing.”

Okay, that is very true, but it’s still storming and If the storm doesn’t get them, then the exhaustion or hypothermia will. They could be swimming for days before they actually reach land, and what happens if Mihawk gets tired or a bad cramp or something? That’s right, she’s going to drown. And do you know what happens if Mihawk drowns? Buggy drowns with her. “Maybe someone’s nearby and can rescue us.”

”In the middle of a storm like this?”

Okay, that’s a fair point. The only ones who were truly stupid enough to try and sail through a storm like this were them, and that obviously didn’t turn out well. Buggy groans, “Okay, but I still think that we need to get help!”

”We aren’t going to get help in the middle of the ocean.”

Buggy knows that she should just be happy and grateful that Mihawk saved her and that she’s still alive. Sure, she’s fatigued and freezing, but she’s still breathing and that has to count for something, but Mihawk really pisses her off.  Why does she always get to decide on what they do? Who died and made her king? She’s sick and tired of Crocodile and Mihawk doing whatever they want and bossing her around like she’s their henchman! 

[wordy-little-witch]

My brain is all over the place so I'm gonna mix n match my stuff with the only common theme being Buggy and hyperfixation.

But like. Age regression. Not the funky cool supernatural kind in fiction, the coping mechanism (I like the fiction ones too tho but for this, it's coping mechs)

Just. Buggy and Shanks both having had a frankly RIDICULOUS amount of childhood trauma and both turning to different methods to cope. Buggy got introduced to age regression both bc he already kinda sorta did t involuntarily without KNOWING and then when he brought on some people to his crew with experience in psychology and therapy for whatever reason.

He got dragged to self care hours, kicking and screaming at first and then more willingly. Turns out the "off vibes" were actually severe psychological distress, PTSD, etc. Who knew? Anyway yeah.

Cabaji, Mohji and Ritchie were the ones who were first aware of Buggy's "fuzzy episodes" as he called it. Was hard not to be in close quarters on a tiny ass ship holding three nearly grown men and a growing lion. As the crew grew, even when they got the Big Top, they were still mostly aware of things. Ritchie in particular always seemed to just... Know when Buggy was blurred out and needed a hand. Or to have smth to cuddle and pet.

Mohji actually brings it up in HIS therapy sessions without naming names. Just "hey how can I help with [x,y,z]?" There's some hums and haws before finally herspist is like "sounds like it could be anything, so I can't definitively say. Keep doing whatever has worked so far, I guess,but take care of yourself too. Maybe recommend your friend talk to a professional, like me or one of the other doctors."

Buggy is vehemently against it for a good while until he finally reaches a point that he's getting frustrated. He's scared and mad and decides he'll ACTUALLY consider it - then during one of his own sessions, he gets triggered into a panic attack, which spirals due to exhaustion into him just... clicking out. Surprise. Looks like it's happening whether he wants it or not.

Through this and subsequent meetings and experimenting, he gets told that what he's doing is a blend of regression and dissociation. They decide to try to separate thebtwo to see if maybe they can turn this from a defense to a decompression method.

Buggy still can count on one hand the number of people he trusts to know this - but it does help. He's doing... a lot better actually, with this. It doesn't fix everything, but it DOES help him stay steady enough to work on the things that need fixing. Cabaji, Mohji, Ritchie, and later Alvida are also finding themselves enjoying the time they spend together when Buggy wants or needs company. They also start picking up on some smaller things about Buggy that have turned the odd quirks and strange habits into smth more, start getting puzzle pieces to the bigger picture.

They secretly start a hit list but that's for another time.

Impel Down was an absolute hot mess, and the recovering from that and the subsequent summit war was not pretty. Just when things started coasting again on slightly smoother waters, Crocodile and Mihawk show up with the instatement of the Cross Guild.

Might just make a tag specifically for my agere stuff bc Buggy is my little blorbo and I shamelessly project on him so I may throw all my clown themed thought here

[darlin-djarin]

Hiya! I've been lowkey stalking ur blog for the last few weeks bcs i recently got rllllllly into dinluke and saw ur recent post about fic, so now I'm wondering if you have any reccs (dinluke ofc)?! I like ur content and read ur tags so I'd say our taste in fic probably overlaps. Hope you have a nice day!! 🌻

hey!! and yeah i’ve got a few fics that i think a lot of dinlukers might like

first let me link @transmascskywalker's list because that’s where i started out originally!!

now as for my fic recs~

some of these fics might overlap, i’m just putting down the ones i loved most. i’m sure i’ve read tons more but these are the ones i found that you can busy yourself with :)

The Storm by shirozora

Din Djarin needs a new ship.

Greef Karga makes him a deal - do some work for the guild and he'll get a brand new gunship. One such job takes him to a planet with a volatile storm system to track down a double-crossing bounty hunter. What he doesn't know is that the bounty hunter is there to loot an ancient Jedi temple. What neither of them know is that someone else is also on the planet searching for the temple.

And then the storm rolls in.

in-universe

sfw

multichapter/parts

my comfort fic btw ^^ i’ve read it so many times

Mystery Man by snapdragonpop007

Luke is seeing someone, apparently.

And really, it’s none of Anakin’s business.

Really.

modern au

sfw

multichapter/parts

one of the best, funniest fics i’ve ever read ^^

Unfold by SilverScriptings

Han can’t help but be suspicious of a certain Mandalorian who’s been spending an awful lot of time at the Jedi Temple…

in-universe

sfw

multichapter/parts

A Little Farther Down the Line by Chromat1cs

Austin, Texas, 1973. Din Djarin plays the guitar, worries about his kid, and runs aimlessly from a past that pulled the roof down around his ears. When a stunningly-talented duo of up-and-coming performers turns Din’s plans of being a simple session musician clear on their head, Din must decide between the safety of mundanity or the unlooked-at thrill of following his heart lest the tape run out on this track of his life before he’s through recording it.

modern (1970’s) au

nsfw

multichapter

the warmest bed i’ve ever known by ceedawks

pre-original series, din djarin is injured on a remote planet and found by an incessantly chatty farm boy named luke skywalker || i won't ask you to wait, if you don't ask me to stay || aka "making out with hot farm boys doesn't count as breaking the creed if he's blindfolded during it".

pre-ANH/meet on tatooine au (in-universe)

nsfw

multichapter

We Two Scorched the Earth by annathaema (moony)

That left Luke with a much bigger problem: The Sand People knew he was here, they’d likely sabotaged or stolen the speeder by now, and he was stranded in a cave with nothing but a rifle with three rounds left, a survival pack good for only a couple of days, and no transport home. Great. Luke leaned against the wall of the cave and tipped his head back, thumping the back of it against the stone over and over. He closed his eyes and wished for rescue.

Someone groaned.

pre-ANH/meet on tatooine au (in-universe)

nsfw

oneshot

Never leaving well enough alone by DarkIsRising

or Five Times Din and Luke Met (and one time they never parted)

He’s drunk, and he isn’t quite sure how that happened. That’s not true, Luke does remember vaguely how it happened, more or less, and it all started with Han.

in-universe

nsfw

multichapter

Yoda’s Academy for Li’l Padawans by MissDinahDarling

Being a new student is hard.

Being a new student whilst your socially awkward father avoids the school at all costs and your new teacher pines uselessly over a man he’s never met before is even worse.

But by god, Grogu is gonna get through this.

modern au

sfw

multichapter

Just Like Heaven by Kushana

At first, he watches.

Then, he touches.

in-universe

sfw (both aroace ^^)

oneshot

Romance As a Series of Debacles by The SexierEvilerCora

Han stumbles on a golden opportunity to make life difficult for Boba Fett, and drags Luke along as backup to crash a Mandalorian party.

Things do not go as planned for anyone involved.

modern au

nsfw

it’s unfinished with only one chapter but it’s still worth the read

Honey Lemon Popsicle by coffeecatsme

“Good morning,” Luke chirps, not even looking up from the stove, “my honey bunches of oats.”

Din blinks several times, trying to get his muscles to unfreeze, and opens his mouth.

Then closes it.

Then opens it again. “What did you just call me?”

5 times Luke calls Din increasingly weird pet names, and 1 time he finds out Din likes it.

modern au

sfw

oneshot

Restraint and Relaxation by Aureutr_Accoredge

Queen Amidala is sick of watching her son run himself ragged for every good cause he finds. When he collapses at his sister's engagement gala, it is the last straw.

Luke balks, so she summons one of her Mandalorian Knights to take him to the family's lakeside villa to make him rest.

By any means necessary

in-universe

nsfw

oneshot (v good ^^)

these are all the ones i recommend for now! i’ve read other really good fics, but these ones ^^ are the ones i’ve found myself return to at least one way or the other.

please let me know if you're looking for something more specific as well!! i'll do my best to find something for your tastes

[iviarellereads]

The Dragon Reborn, Chapter 40 - A Hero in the Night

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(White lion icon) In which we've seen that name before.

PERSPECTIVE: Mat watches the town of Aringill grow closer from the rail of the ship. Things are pretty somber, with Cairhienin refugees all over. Mat's luck hasn't been quite as good or as bad as that first night, but it's been good enough. He opened the letter from Elayne with a hot knife under the wax seal, but it didn't tell him anything except that she'd put him in the soup kettle instead of herself, and he figures the letter is why the men came after him.(2)

Mat taunts the captain as they leave the ship, because he's eaten through all the stores the captain thought would last them until Tear. Fortunately, the intense hunger left him a couple of days ago. Thom says he shouldn’t taunt the man so, but Mat says Mallia earned it, being such a jerk. He didn’t even stop to help that ship that hit the mud flat yesterday.(3) Mat makes big talk about how he'll help anyone who can pay, only fools do anything for free, but he presses some of his coins into the hands of a few of the refugees he passes by.(4) Thom gives him a funny look, and Mat says coin comes easily enough when he has someone to dice with, shut up.

When Mat asks a soldier if there's an inn with beds and anyone selling horses to ride, the soldier says people are sleeping in hedges and any horse that hasn't been slaughtered for cooking probably isn't for sale. Also, orders have come down that tomorrow they stop anyone crossing the river into Andor. Mat and Thom move along, and Thom says that doesn't sound like Morgase, stopping crossings and sending people back. Mat says it must be her, who else could it be? He spots an inn and moves through the crowd toward it. The innkeeper says it's four to a bed, he couldn't find a room for his own mother if she showed up now. Mat drags Thom out to another inn, he doesn't want a bed in a stable.

Four inns later, Mat finally gives in and asks about space in stables. This innkeeper says the stable's just for horses, he doesn't want them disturbed. Mat offers a significant amount of coin and the innkeeper gives in. Mat offers to dice for the innkeeper's two horses, and of course he wins.

The stable is at least dry and warm, as thunder crashes and rain falls heavily outside, when a woman drags a cart in, then closes the door like she's hiding. Mat is about to announce their presence when the door opens again, and a man enters, with three others. He is Tammuz, and she is Aludra, the two Illuminators that were on duty the night Rand fucked up in Cairhien. Tammuz used the events of that night to have Aludra expelled from the guild, it seems, and he's heard that she's using the secrets she learned from them to make her own way.

Mat jumps out of the hayloft and knocks all four men out. Aludra says this is like something out of a story, being rescued by a gleeman and a young hero. The Illuminators Guild all but blames her for Galldrian's death, as if that one nightflower killed him personally. Thom grimaces at this.(5)

Aludra says she must thank them, but she has no money, only her craft. She takes a bundle out of her cart, and unwraps some fireworks. She explains how to use them, what each size will do, and to NEVER put them close to fire, or open them, as they can explode without fire if exposed to air. She says she's going to head to Lugard, knowing the men will expect her to go to Caemlyn. Mat offers her some coin, saying he has plenty, and can win more. Aludra smiles at Thom and says that [Mat] is young yet, huh? Thom asks how she lit the lantern so quickly, and she says it's her own invention, and when she can make it work properly, sticks will make her fortune, as she leaves.(6)

The men start to stir, and Thom suggests they leave, too, before the men awaken fully. At least they have the horses. Mat says if he ever acts the hero again, Thom should kick him. Thom asks what he'd have done differently, and Mat scowls as they gallop into the rainy night.

=====

(1) Here, not so much for the Trakand family, more because they've reached Andor. (2) I think it's safe to say we know better, but Mat has no context for Gray Men. (3) Huh, that's funny, we just read about a ship that-- Yeah, they all left the same day, it wouldn't be such a surprise to find that the Wondergirls' first ship, that hit the previously-sunken ship thinking it was a mudflat, could be the same one Mat's ship wouldn't help. Missed connections, anyone? (4) Remember the unreliable narrator thing? Nobody in this story whose head we slip into is a perfectly reliable narrator, but Mat and Nynaeve have a competition for whose narration can say the thing that is most opposite what they really feel. A lot of people find it endearing that Mat's such a good guy even though he puts up such a front. I've never been able to un-focus on what a jerk he seems to want to come off as, so godspeed Mat lovers, but it couldn't be me. (5) Yes, Thom, your actions had some pretty large consequences, no matter how righteous your justifications. (6) Not flint and steel… what else could she have? Well, isn't it funny that this is a world with fireworks, but no matches? (For that matter, no cannons or guns that we've heard a whisper of, either.) Also, if you couldn't tell, Aludra's a bit of a fan favourite. A moderately older woman, with a generous dash of competence porn? Please!

[charkyzombicorn]

Some selkie au asks

Did yasopp ever give kid luffy rides in the ocean?

Dose crocodile do that villan thing were he sits on a chair petting a animal (buggy in seal form)

Harp seals Harp seals are named for the curved, black patch on their backs, which resembles a harp. Dose yassop and Eurydice have harp birth marks on there backs? (There both harp seals)

What is Eurydice full moon form like?

What would happen if

The red hair pirates meet that creepy marine obsessed with yasopp again?

The star hats meet the creepy marine

Eurydice meets the creepy marine

Dose law have any selkies on his crew? (I think he should. (Ether the random woman, penguin, or shachi)

Once, on Luffy's birthday because Yasopp doesn't like thinking of birthday presents

One time Crocodile wanted to meet with a few old business partners, he needed to hear what they really wanted from him, so he dressed in one of his best suits, an entire box of good cigars and played the role of the big shot that just made success and was getting stupid with it. Buggy helped with the act - a trained seal to trail behind Crocodile with a fancy diamond-studded collar? That was a red flashing sign of financial stupidity. Anyone that knew him wouldn't believe it, but anyone that knew him wouldn't believe any part of the act. He was chatting with his old cohorts and acted drunk enough to get stupid, went away saying he was gonna chat up the bartender, and Buggy was left in his booth. Both his old accomplices, annoyed and a little drunk, started raving about how they couldn't wait to kill that fucker, make it look like Mihawk, and redirect everyone working for the cross guild to their own (much less successful) "business". Buggy only agreed because he was promised he didn't have to leave his seal form, luckily Crocodile decided to kill all three that same night and even if it was suspected the seal was a selkie, selkies aren't ever thought to have uses and the suspicion died with them

YEEEP!!!!! The spots don't really look like harps though, they're both ink blots so I'm pretty sure they look like my parents arguing-- lol no.

Eurydice gets about 7x bigger, a little bigger than Usopp

If they meet him again it's On Sight, having someone with that kind of devilfruit after them is Dangerous and they've killed people for less

If the strawhats meet Scummy anytime it's probably be a little after Punk Hazard because Smokers' and his crew are in contact. He tries to negotiate for The Selkie, but The Selkie has a Cannon so negotiations break down pretty quick, his ship gets sunk and he dies :) not really but wouldn't that be nice?

Before that village outed Yasopp as a selkie, Scummy didn't tell a soul what Yasopp was because Scummy wanted him to himself and telling means handing Yasopp over to the dragons. After, Scummy started raving to anyone he talked to for more than a few minutes about what he wanted to do to Yasopp and Maybe his son too. This includes Coby. Scummy and him were talking in his office, Coby taking it seriously, Scummy confident he could take this kid even if he outranks him so talking about whatever he wanted. Scummy started raving about how he'd kill a dragon if he could get his hands on Yasopp, started saying enough to live up to his nickname tenfold. Eurydice had requested to stand in as backup, because she wanted to gain some Intel. She didn't expect that, she lost her temper for a second, but Coby noticed. The second she took a step toward Scummy Coby was already out of his seat and punched Scummy in the mouth so hard he hit the wall. Coby got questioned, said it was a reprimandory action for conspiring treason, Eurydice's name was left out of the books.

[quinloki]

I have tried to share a self-insert and an OC three times now, but every time I write it out it looks like an essay. And I've rewritten this four times now and I can't seem to make it any shorter. This is my last-ditch effort to try this, with just the OC, the self-insert loses.

My OC is actually my mom-figure for my self-insert. Her name is Shura and she's 6'5 with long red hair kept in a high ponytail (the shade is similar to Kid's but less crimson and more fiery). Her bangs are parted in the middle technically but they sweep to each side and obscure her eyes: left bangs are platinum blonde & right bangs are mid-lavender. Her eyes, which she keeps obscured on purpose, are so pale grey they almost look clear—hence hiding them because her eyes creep EVERYONE out including herself if she looks in a mirror.

My favorite thing about her is she always has my back. Whether I need comfort or protection or wisdom, she never fails to show up and be there. She helps me work through things and also encourages me when all the other narratives in my head are negative, she shines like the sun and pushes them back.

Her worst trait is easily her temper. She's more of a grievously maim you first then interrogate you later if you survived kind of gal. I think it's a redhead thing. They're just feistier.

Don't know about her and foods.

I've had her since March 2021, so she actually predates One Piece for me. I didn't begin watching One Piece until March 2023. Shura came about during my Kuroko no Basuke (KnB) phase (which I'm still in, never left it) where she was still my mom-figure for that anime self-insert but there she was a normal human (and a badass basketball/volleyball coach). In One Piece she's not even human, she just masquerades as one.

Who do I ship her with? Four very different people yielding in four very different outcomes.

Sir Crocodile + Shura = Divorce. It's inevitable. Her temper just isn't made to jive with his ego or his desire to rule a freaking country. They definitely got divorced pre-Alabasta and while they definitely didn't work out as a couple, they remain tentatively amicable with one another and even remain allies once Crocodile sets up the Cross Guild. But she won't ally with him pre-Cross Guild. Wasn't even upset he got sent to Impel.

Doflamingo + Shura = Variations. Some days she's a one-night stand that yielded offspring and he couldn't care less or he wants to manipulate said offspring. Other days they are in love with each other, and sometimes it's an arranged deal that sours. It depends on what I'm feeling/need at the time.

Borsalino + Shura = Happily Married. He's laid-back enough to not be perturbed by her temper or morals. The government makes it hard for them to stay together so they go their separate ways but never divorce. Borsi uses his rank to keep his family hidden from the government and even hidden from Akainu (Kuzan knows but keeps his mouth shut—too lazy to snitch). If his family secret is ever exposed, he may or may not walk from his post as a Marine (don't know him well enough to make that call accurately at this time).

Sakazuki + Shura = Murder. Who didn't see this coming? The one time it worked as a loving marriage, I had a fever from Covid and so it was quite literally a fever dream. Sakazuki always murders Shura, every time without fail. They start off madly in love but as he devolves more and more into his Absolute Justice philosophy, she pushes back against it because his philosophy isn't hers. He has no tolerance for naysayers and ends up murdering her. Her sister Ayako hides the offspring from Sakazuki until the child is grown and capable of making her own decisions.

Shura does not have a devil fruit but she is fire-based in her own abilities. If she is stripped of her power, she relies on her sword which is lovingly named Firebird. Shura's nickname is Redbird.

Shura is heavily based off of my own Mom. Her nickname is from the real-life heroine of medieval China. Her appearance is heavily based on Shura Kirigakure (no, the name isn't from this Shura, that was one hell of a coincidence) of Blue Exorcist—obviously with modifications. While Kirigakure is snake-based my Shura is Phoenix-based and I pulled from mythologies as well as a TCG called Legend of the Five Rings. One of the clans in that game was the Phoenix clan and I've based Shura's lineage to the Dragon clan of the same game.

😳

Oh wow! You’ve really got thought into her - I love that! It’s definitely good to have a reliable mom figure who is fierce and supportive for you and your self-insert - especially in the One Piece where mothers are suspect at best and dead at most ^^;

Though to be fair, mother is a statistically dangerous vocation, so I can see why.

I love the design too, you describe her very well; and I love the eyes. Oh man the PAIRINGS are something else too, poor gal has a type and aside from, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, Borsalino her type is not kind to her.

Well, I guess the Croco pairing is also mostly good too, since they didn’t kill one another and were able to keep things amicable.

I LOVE the details though - thank you very much for sharing!

(Shura from Blue Exorcist is really cool too!)

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Chapter 33

Keep Me Warm

Pairings: Cross Guild Polycule x Shanks x Fem!Reader x ???

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 10.6k+

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Chapter Tunes: Tainted Love ~ Holy Wars | Hatef--k ~ The Bravery

Summary: You're finding ways to cope, Shanks is finding ways to win, and the truth is finding its way out.

Recap: Emperor Shanks won the first hunt, and the first private date. The Cross Guild learned how you feel about about your red haired suitor, and the swordsman declared his plan to leave.

Author's Note: Hi friends! Just want to say that sharing this story with you means so much to me. I wish I had some Cross Guild backup in my life right now, but having y'all reading my obsession makes me so grateful! I'm trying to get back to interacting, I'm just having a hard time doing anything that's not writing this right now, but all of your words make me so happy, thank you!! 💜🙏🏼✨

Dark Content Warning: It's not the reader, but within this chapter there are references to suicide through engaging in dangerous and destructive behavior. The violent activities are mentioned within canon, but the emotional motivations are added. The situation ends well, but I'll bracket those sections with ~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~ in case that topic is triggering. Please, take care of yourselves, and know that you are not alone! 💜

Alternate POV Symbols:

🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic currently contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc. As we get further into Egghead Arc where our lovely boys are showing up more, there will be more spoilers as time goes on. Sorry y'all, I'm trying to keep most spoilers small details, but Cross Guild is endgame, lol.

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, Mental Illness, Grief, Toxic Family, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Guilt, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Pain Kink, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Hate Sex, Rough Sex, Relationship Drama, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Uncle Cedrick Has Become His Own Warning, Splinters, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

“That’s one creepy ass boat.”

“Excuse me?”

Mihawk couldn’t be annoyed with his clown when that observation had their much taller lover nearly buckling beside him. Those large fingers dug into his shoulder while Crocodile laughed at his expense, his voice even rougher than usual at the early hour.

“Hitsugibune is a fine ship, and has carried me across the Grand Line for years,” Mihawk countered. 

Crocodile took the luggage from his hands to toss onto the one-man vessel. 

“It does have a certain flare,” Crocodile hummed, leaving a quick kiss to his temple. 

“It’s just your aesthetic, though, right,” Buggy shook as he prowled closer. “It’s not a real coffin?”

“Not yet,” Mihawk teased. It earned him an adorable frown that made him laugh, and the movement reminded him of all the delightful things they’d done to him last night. 

“Sure you’re gonna be alright all cooped up in your coffin so soon,” Buggy taunted with a few prods and pokes along the swordsman’s healing chest. 

Moans left those cruel lips, and he tried to back away, but ran into a wall made of muscle and heat, and wrapped in a purple, velvet smoking jacket.

“Promise you’ll be a good boy for me?”

Mihawk almost buckled then, loving the satisfied noise Crocodile made when he reacted to him. The three lovers kissed goodbye, until he was alone again. 

The World’s Greatest Swordsman drifted alone on his one-man boat, and wondered how long it would take for Crocodile to realize that he hadn’t answered his question.

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~ 

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

“King of Diamonds,” Shanks beamed at her, mesmerized by her every move, and getting caught on the gentle sway of her locket while she laid out the trick for him again and again. 

It was Buggy’s trick. Buggy’s locket.

The Emperor of the Sea didn’t realize how much he‘d needed this. Seeing Y/N’s enduring love for their lovely clown gave him a burst of hope that clouded his mind, but he kept up the front.

Maybe playing the villain won’t be so bad.

“I’m afraid you missed this one, Shanks,” she breathed, eyes fluttering a bit as they darted back to her hands. Her movements had to be practiced in front of a crowd like this, but he found himself drawn into her orbit, yet again. 

“That’s alright,” he teased, snatching the card from her. He huffed a laugh as he dropped the Ace of Hearts before taking her hand in his. Y/N’s lips parted in a soft exhale, and he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from them.

“I always win when it counts.”

The sound of bells filled the air.

“Do I count,” she teased, pressing those lips into a subtle, biteable pout for him. 

Hope and greed brought his lips to her skin, just a press against her wrist while he fought the urge to throw her over his shoulder and run. 

“I think she likes you, Chief.”

“What can I say,” Shanks smirked as he plopped down beside his first mate. Y/N’s eyes were following him so clearly on the huge screen that he didn’t need to glance back to check. “I think I might just win this little game.”

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

“I hear you’re the best there is!”

“That’s correct,” Dracule Mihawk deadpanned. He was only twenty-two years old, but the brightness shining off of the boy that had invaded his corner table made him feel aged and weary. 

Shanks didn’t think his eyes could get any wider. This dangerous, infamous man was so… pretty!

“Run along now.”

“No way,” Shanks laughed, leaning over the table. He froze for a moment under the glare of the strangest eyes he’d ever seen. “Come on, Hawk Eyes, I’m challenging you to a duel!”

The Marine Hunter didn’t spare him another glance, just returned to his book as though Shanks didn’t exist. 

“Come ooon, I bet you’re bored on this little island. I’m only here so my sniper can visit his wife, and they’re not open for company right now. Plus, my first mate already left me for the barmaid so I’m...”

Rambling. Why am I rambling?

Shanks didn't know why he couldn’t let it go, but he had to try. The young captain saw the chance to test himself sitting before him with a beautifully bored look on his face. 

“I wanna fight you.”

“I’m afraid I’m not in the mood for slaughtering children today.”

“I’m eighteen, and my sword is ready, so let’s—“

“Let me see your sword,” Mihawk ordered. He had to stifle a smirk when the redhead obeyed him instantly. 

The saber was longer than was typical for that type, with an extended, green hilt that showed a subtle, but elegant artistry in its craftsmanship. Mihawk was tracing his fingers around the pommel before he remembered that he should have killed the idiot for handing his blade to an enemy. 

“Where did you get this,” he asked instead of stabbing the rookie, letting the young man take the exquisite weapon back. 

“Oh, uh…” Shanks’ cheeks almost matched his hair while he decided what to say. The image of this man laughing him off made sharing the full truth unappealing. “I’ve always had it. My mentor taught me how to use it. So, will you fight me?”

“You’ve piqued my interest. That’s often a fatal mistake, so if you choose to walk away now, I’ll let you go.”

“No one gets away from Red Haired Shanks that easily,” he winked, holding out his hand. 

Mihawk offered his own, and Shanks grinned as they clasped each other’s forearms for a moment. 

“I like your jacket.”

The swordsman narrowed his eyes at the compliment, but followed the young captain out of the tavern, and into the lightly wooded area outside of town. 

He could have sworn he’d seen that ugly, straw hat somewhere before.

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

You weren’t supposed to think about him. 

How could you hold up that perfect, doll face in front of all the leeches if they smelled any hint of weakness?

How could you keep yourself from crying when you remembered Buggy’s laugh that made you laugh, his touch that made you his, or his pain that broke your heart? 

Yet you kept surrounding yourself with every tiny piece you had left, a masochistic challenge to spice up this auction for your life. 

And here was the man that had hurt Buggy. The asshole that had left him wounded for decades. You had to convince him to apologize to the man he claimed to love, only for the traitor to abandon him when he needed him most. 

I hope they take care of him…

You didn’t have room for too much hope. Not when you could end up trapped with this viper, especially if Uncle caught a whiff of your disdain. 

He’s staring at my lips like he did that first day. Like I’m just something sweet for him to taste. 

“I always win when it counts.”

The sound of the ending bells felt like applause, and another smiling face filled your mind. Blood had dripped onto that stage like scattered petals, all for you. 

Pouting for the Emperor gave you a thrill of pride over how easy it was to make his eyes flash with heat. He pressed a kiss to the inside of your wrist, and you didn’t have to fake the shivers it caused. 

The red headed pirate sauntered off, but your eyes were drawn to him again and again. 

The prey had its own target now. 

I’d rather die than marry that traitor, but if he traps me…

I’ll fucking kill him.

I’ll kill him for you, Buggy.

 ~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🔴🗡️⏰~~~

“Holy shit,” Shanks panted as he narrowly avoided being cleaved in two by that tiny fucking dagger.

“Ha, already lost your confidence, boy?”

Mihawk hadn’t lied. He hadn’t planned on killing anyone on this boring, little island, but fresh blood on his blade had him losing himself. He’d had a few moments of hope for a real challenge, but the building disappointment was about to quicken his opponent’s death.

“Nope! Just– fuck!”

The red haired youth dodged too late, collapsing to the dirt. He clutched at his side, hardly doing a thing to staunch the blood that was slowly staining the forest floor. 

I can’t die yet. He didn’t even draw his sword… 

“You’re the strongest fighter I’ve met in awhile, yet you’re still such a pitiful creature,” Mihawk scowled, kicking the saber from the rookie’s weak grasp. “And here, I was almost having fun. What a waste of time…”

“W-wait, Hawk Eyes,” Shanks coughed, spreading more blood around. “You’re bored, aren’t you? You like fighting?”

“People can be so perceptive in their final moments,” he drawled. Mihawk brought Kogatana to the boy’s throat, the small blade poised to cease his blubbering.

“You said you almost had f-fun,” Shanks bargained, his eyes wider than ever while beautiful death loomed over him. “I'll make you a deal, alright?”

Golden eyes seemed to sharpen, just as the blade pressed into his neck a bit more.

“Don’t waste any more of my time,” came his vicious, yet waiting voice. 

“I won’t,” Shanks panicked, smiling under that cold glare. “It's too early for me to die, friend. There's so much for me to learn. I promise that if you give me a chance, I'll get stronger! Let me live, and I'll get strong enough to give you a real fun fight, I swear!”

One of the longest moments Shanks had ever experienced dragged on, while the unreadable swordsman above him hardly moved at all, until his head cocked to the side.

“Intriguing,” Mihawk frowned, still holding steel against that young throat. “I suppose I can hold off on killing you for now.”

“You can– ow!”

Mihawk removed the blade that Shanks had leaned into in excitement, and rolled his eyes with instant regret. 

“Don’t challenge me again until you’re ready. I’ll kill you slowly for making me wait.”

“No problem,” Shanks waved to the man’s back. Dracule Mihawk had already left him bleeding in the dirt. “I’ll get you back, Hawk Eyes.”

~~~⏰🔴🗡️⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🐊🤡~~~

It felt so quiet with just the two of them, even with all the hustle and bustle of the guild getting to work.

He’s like a big, scary teddy bear.

“You alright little clown,” Crocodile soothed, rubbing softly between Buggy’s shoulder blades while he had a coughing fit. 

The clown gave a thumbs up, grateful that he hadn’t spoken the thought out loud. 

Mihawk had been gone for hours, and the afternoon was aging fast, but neither of the men on the couch had cared about dressing for the day. That soft smoking jacket made Crocodile’s warm body almost too soothing to lean against, especially while the clown listened to his star do their card trick again and again.

When the coughing stopped, Crocodile’s large hand pulled gently, guiding the clown back into that comfortable position. 

Buggy didn’t fight it. He knew he might be an idiot for getting used to this strange reality where Sir Crocodile cuddled with him, but he needed it right now.

Maybe he needs it too.

~~~🐊🤡🐊🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

I’ll skin him. Boil him alive. 

“You look amazing,” Kat muttered, avoiding your death-filled gaze in the mirror. 

“Tell me,” you growled at the nearest staff, “why the fuck do I need to wear a swimsuit on a first date?”

They’d given you a variety of options, all of which were as red as that stupid hair. You’d chosen the one that came with a tiny bit of cloth to wrap around your hips, so you could at least pretend you were wearing some fucking clothes. 

“I’m so sorry you weren’t given more notice, Miss Sylvad,” she hurried, her empty words already draining your resolve. 

It’s not their fault. It’s his. 

“As you know, the hun– suitors, excuse me,” she coughed nervously, and you saw Kat’s eyes widen over her shoulder while you shoved down the manic laughter in your gut. “The suitors get to choose the themes of the first dates, and the Emperor stated that he enjoys long walks on the beach, so–”

“I can walk fine without–”

“There’s my lovely nieces,” Cedrick beamed, nearly hitting one of the staff with the door when he barged in. “Everyone out, even you, sweetheart.”

Kat stepped back from his touch on her shoulder, but you told her it was fine before her fruitless argument could leave her lips. 

He was going to get what he wanted, so she might as well save the energy, though she scowled at him all the way out the door.

“Nice pick,” he taunted, gesturing at your swimsuit. “I preferred the little, frilly one, but I’m sure the pirate can tear into this one just fine, even one handed.”

Nothing. Give him nothing.

“Did you have something to tell me, Uncle? I have a date to prepare for.”

“Atta girl,” your uncle laughed, lounging in the nearest chair. “Just wanted to check in on who your favorites are.”

“It’s too early to tell,” you reported, fighting to keep your voice even. 

“Well, be sure to keep me posted,” he ordered with a smirk. “Unfortunately there’s already one name that needs to be crossed off the list. I want him to have his little date though, and we should send someone else home before him. The last thing the family needs are accusations of racism if we boot the only Fishman first. Inclusivity bullshit is always a fucking headache.”

“Why…” 

Fukaboshi was overwhelming. He was two stories tall, and you couldn’t imagine leaving your whole world behind, or how any of that would even work.

Yet, he’d seemed truly kind. The prince had almost put himself, and his people, in danger with his earnest questions about your captivity. 

He’d come to this land of leeches looking for allies, but only cruelty lived here. Only gluttonous, selfish, hateful—

“Who would you like to send home first,” Uncle Cedrick asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I’ll be rigging tomorrow's game so the Fishman should win the next date, then we can send him off with no worries. So who’s your least favorite?”

“I really don’t know, Uncle. I haven’t spent enough time with them to be sure.”

A little movement around his eyes, a little smirk. You weren’t going to fall for it. 

“Let’s remedy that, dear niece,” he declared as he moved toward you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. He turned you toward the mirror, and his reflection was frightening. 

He was gleeful.

“I have put quite a bit of berry on your red haired date becoming the next King of the Pirates. Make sure you treat him like royalty tonight.” He left you there to wince while he called over his shoulder. “I know how much you enjoyed whoring for those pirates, Y/N. Now you could be their little whore queen!”

~~~

You were carted around like royalty in your uncle’s obnoxious carriage, already feeling the cool, gentle breeze through the wood paneling as you neared one of the only sandy beaches on the small island. The rest of the coastlines were rimmed with craggy cliffs at the edge of forests, and perching on those rocks was your preferred way to enjoy the ocean. 

Not shivering in a swimsuit at dusk, with sand already creeping up your legs.

“Wow, you look…”

All the staff scurried to the little trailers nearby, leaving you face to face with him while he scanned over your mostly bare skin. 

Shanks looked right at home on the beach. 

He’d managed to find a dark green version of his hardly-buttoned shirts that looked unfairly good against his skin, but his loose fitting pants were still covered in a headache inducing pattern. They were gathered below the knees, presumably to make his long walks on the beach in those lame sandals that much easier. 

And his cape. How could you forget the cape? 

He was still gawking at you while you tried not to fume at how fucking stunning he looked in his stupid clothes. 

“Why are you dressed like this?”

“You don’t like it, Emperor,” you pouted, playing pretend with a wobble of hurt in your voice. “I heard you wanted a beach date.”

“I like it very much,” he purred, bringing a gasp to your lips when he was suddenly inches from you. He trailed his fingers down your neck and chest, following the chain of your locket until he smiled. “I just don’t want my little bunny getting cold tonight.”

Shivering under the weight of his warm cape, you thanked the charming villain while he led you to a little table by the fire. Staff rushed up to serve you, but Shanks snagged the open bottle, and waved them off while you tried not to let your mouth water at the platter of hors d’oeuvres between you. 

He poured the sake, but said nothing while you toasted. Just stared at you, his little half-smile growing deeper when you accepted a bite of food from his hand.

At least you didn’t have to worry about your food with Shanks tasting everything along with you. No one would dare spike the Emperor’s drink.

I might. If I have to.

You faded in and out of daydreaming his murder, and nearly forgetting. 

Shanks was the perfect predator, luring in his prey with such playful joy and power. He was pure light, drawing in the moths until they burned to a crisp in his cruel, selfish flames. 

You knew this, yet there were moments when he made you truly laugh, and you clutched at your locket, silently vowing again and again that you would destroy this man. 

If he didn’t kill you while you made him pay, then his crew surely would. It was a last resort. 

You didn’t want to die, and it felt nice knowing that.

Yet if the only options you had left were being owned by this monster, or dying while you took him down, then you’d get him drunk and happy on your honeymoon, and gut him like a pig. 

Until then though…

“You feeling alright, gorgeous,” your prey checked in, guiding you to a trailer to wash up. The staff disappeared again, scattering like cockroaches, but the illusion of privacy never fooled you. 

“I feel good.” Your hum made his eyes glint for you, and he pulled you down the shore, away from the staff, and their snail-covered equipment. 

“Wanna dip your toes in,” Shanks ginned, wrapping his arm around your waist. It felt like he wouldn’t give you a choice either way. His strong fingers curled around your hip, teasing along the edge of your swimsuit, and your body ached when you remembered what they could do to you. 

You wanted to forget for a while. You wanted to pretend. 

Might as well enjoy myself before I kill him. 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

He’d almost forgotten where they were. 

It doesn’t matter. I’ve got her, Buggy. Your shining star.

When she laughed, the Emperor of the Sea forgot everything. 

It was a perfect sound, a beautiful movement of her body, her head thrown back just a bit, as though he’d shocked the laughter out of her. 

She didn’t look like a wounded star tonight. There was fire beneath all of her flirting, and he had to feel it.

Greed crept back into his heart the longer he spent by her side, and he couldn’t help but reach for her, pulling her toward the gentle sea. 

He wanted her. He wanted all of them. 

Shanks wanted everything, and that sweet, little pout of hers seemed to promise it. 

“It’s too cold,” Y/N shivered, avoiding the soft waves that lapped along the shore.

“I’ll keep you warm.”

She snorted, clamping a hand over her lips when he cocked a brow at her. His lovely date dipped her toes in, then took off up the beach, her laughter filling every bit of his mind until he joined in, chasing after her.

“How are you going to— oh,” she panted, gasping when she turned to find him so close. 

“Bunny,” he laughed as she tripped on his cloak trying to run backwards. He caught her just in time to fall with her, bracing with his elbow to keep his full weight from pressing her beneath him.

Shanks forgot. 

That shining star was still gasping as she laid on his cloak, a perfect blanket spread out to watch the night sky she must have fallen from. The soft tint of the night made her skin seem unreal, intoxicating. 

He had to touch her.

She touched him first.

Y/N’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, fingers curling into his hair when she pulled him in for a kiss. He couldn’t hold in a low growl that grew when she drank it hungrily from his lips. 

Nothing else existed when she pulled him closer, tugging at his shirt to tease her nails along his back. She moaned so sweetly around his tongue when he grinded himself against her, barely any cloth to keep them apart. 

He almost forgot.

“Mmm… Hey, bunny,” Shanks purred, his eyes heavy lidded to match the lovely ones beneath him. “Are you sure—“

“Aren’t you going to keep me warm?”

Y/N was pouting, teasing, begging, her fingers still trailing over his skin.

Everything about her was giving heat. 

Everything was perfect. 

Everything except for a flash in her eyes that plunged Shanks’ heart into the icy depths of the ocean at his back. 

“Is something wrong,” beautiful death asked softly, her mask so exquisitely crafted. 

“No, not at all,” Shanks cleared his throat, pushing himself away. “I just… It would be a shame to have my first time with such a beauty in front of an audience.” 

The sound of bells saved him.

She tilted her head back, sighing when she saw the vehicles approaching. 

“Bunny, I—“

“Thank you for the lovely date, Emperor. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He helped her up, brushing the sand from her skin while he tried to figure out what to say. 

He didn’t think fast enough, and soon the staff had swarmed her, wrapping her in a fluffy robe before whisking her away.

The red haired pirate declined a ride back to the estate, waving the people, and their watching snails away. 

It was a long walk. 

There would never be enough distance for Shanks to cross to get away from the sickness that had seeped into his bones, into his every organ. 

Y/N’s empty eyes had branded guilt onto his heart before, and he couldn’t stand his arrogance. He thought he’d already made it all better, that his greedy heart was going to take everything it wanted. 

I wanted to own her, just like the leeches.

Tonight, Y/N’s eyes hadn’t been empty, but she was so good at hiding.

Or I just saw what I wanted to see. Until she…

What Shanks had seen in that flash, in that glimpse beneath her mask, was evil. It was frightening, sick, manic.

It was hate. 

I did that. I filled that lovely girl’s heart with hatred. 

The walk wasn’t long enough to shake off his self loathing, but Shanks knew what he needed if he was going to make things right. 

He needed one more chance. 

One more private date. 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“Look, I’ll taste it,” your mother sighed before taking a drink from the steaming mug she kept brandishing at you. “Now please, drink it, sweetie. You look…”

“I look like death,” you drawled, wishing the coffee would cool down so you could chug it. 

“Not at all, Miss Sylvad, you just need some brightening up! We’ll take good care of you,” chirped your mom’s favorite makeup artist. You couldn’t remember his name this early in the morning, but you were fighting not to throw the hot coffee at him so he’d stop being so fucking cheerful. 

You hadn’t been able to fall asleep last night. 

The scent of him had lingered around you, even after you’d tried to scrub him off of you in the shower. 

The whole night had replayed in your mind, making you dizzy with guilt over every moment when you relaxed, when you forgot.

Then it would cycle through again, rage building until you chewed your tongue to keep from snarling to the empty air around you. 

But your body…

Frustration nearly clawed itself out of you, and you’d had to hold your breath to fight the screams and tears it would have left in its wake. You’d been so fucking close to having something to turn your brain off for a minute, even if it was him.

All of your attempts to take care of that need on your own left you defeated, your guilty hunger twisting every image you tried to cling to.

You couldn’t imagine his fingers without picturing the gloved ones you missed so much. 

Couldn’t picture Shanks fucking you without remembering him making love to Buggy. You were trapped in silence on the edge of that bed again, but there was no one to rescue you this time. 

Last night, you’d fallen apart. It had to be it. You couldn’t afford these emotions. 

You’d bitten your pillow to stifle the wracking sobs while your mind tore you down, forcing you to mourn more than just Buggy. 

It felt like you were choking on their names, all the men you’d left behind. 

If loneliness alone could kill, you would have died there in that luxurious bed, aching to be smothered in the heat of bodies you’d never feel again.

Shanks was torturing you. His very presence was a reminder of the daydream you had fooled yourself into thinking you could keep. 

“Are you alright, Miss Sylvad?”

“What? Oh, I’m… I’m fine.”

The sound of tears in your voice was enough to drag you back. 

You let yourself fall away. 

Empty.

Empty’s good.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

Benn literally kicked his ass out of bed this morning, ripping the expensive bedding off of his captain while he scolded him out of the dream world. 

“Quit complaining,” his first mate commanded him, rolling his eyes at the pathetic groans. “You’ve got a beautiful girl to win, Chief. You can sleep when she’s yours.”

Shanks’ morning mind was still soaked in last night's attempt to drown it in sake, so he couldn’t tell if he’d thanked or cussed out the older man for his help. Regardless, the red haired pirate was dressed for breakfast, luckily remembering his appointment.

After the first dates, the suitors got to have breakfast with the Sylvads. 

Maybe I’ll get a moment alone with her.

“There’s our favorite Emperor,” Cedrick called through the door, gesturing for Shanks to join them. “Make yourself at home!”

“Home” was strangely sterile, more of a conference room than a dining area. Cedrick sat at the head of the table, offering the empty seat beside him, opposite Y/N, and her practiced smile. 

I can do this. I can convince her I’m on her side.

I have to.

“I thought this was gonna be a family breakfast. You’ve got a little sister out there, don’t you, gorgeous?”

“I—“

“Don’t worry, Shanks,” Cedrick waved off the question. “There will be plenty of time for family get-togethers. Since you joined our game at the last minute, I figured we should have a little business talk before you get back to all the pleasure.”

Shanks almost shoved his fork through the man’s throat. 

The taunting glance he’d given his niece at the last word tested Shanks’ self control, and he couldn’t believe how calm she seemed. 

“Of course. I understand it’s not just love we’re fighting for.”

“Not love. Family,” Cedrick vowed. He emphasized his words with a firm grip on Shanks’ shoulder, and the pirate had to hold his breath to keep from shaking him off.

How does she do this all day?

“Whoever marries my dear niece will be family, and Sylvads take care of their own. I know there’s a lot we could do for each other.”

“It’s an honor to be considered,” Shanks toasted them both, aching to see anything real behind her polite mask. 

“You know, Shanks, it’s a real shame you went to the wrong brother all those years ago,” Cedrick mused, shifting his tone just enough to suck all the air from the room. “You might have been King of the Pirates by now if you’d asked me instead.”

“What do you mean?”

Shanks mumbled those loathsome words while the ground disappeared beneath him. The question in her eyes sparked his panic, but it was too late. 

“Please, Arbo loved to brag about drinking with Roger’s apprentice. I could never understand how he let a little girl spook him out of the deal of a lifetime.”

“What are you talking about?”

Her eyes were wide when she asked, but Y/N wasn’t looking at either of them. She was slipping further and further away with every word her uncle spewed, and Shanks had no idea how to stop it. 

“You know the family stories, niece, and you’re smart enough to figure out which ones are true,” he chided. 

Cedrick would have lost his hand when he tapped the tip of her nose, but Shanks was frozen. 

“Your daddy turned down the chance to help the Pirate King’s apprentice build the next ship to conquer the Grand Line. Arbo could have made history, but he decided not to because his ‘widdle numbers girl’ cried about some gods damned tree.”

…

“Wha-what?”

She was so good at hiding, so it felt like his soul cracked when her voice did. Horror and shame filled the Emperor of the Sea when a daughter’s grief shone in those beautiful eyes. 

“It had to be fifteen, nearly twenty years ago now, wasn’t it?”

He sounded fucking jolly while he ripped both of their hearts out. 

“Yeah, I think so,” Shanks coughed, caving when the man gripped his shoulder a bit harder. 

“Well, I don’t have the same qualms as my dear brother, so I might be willing to butcher an Adam Tree. Only for family, of course.”

Unshed tears were balanced in her eyes, and she seemed to be turning herself into a statue before she’d let them fall. 

There had been time to tell her. Shanks’ mind flew through a list of excuses for why he hadn’t, why it wasn’t a good time, how she’d been going through too much to tell her a story about her dead father. Yet this whirlwind of a woman had cleared away his old disguises, so he could no longer believe his own lies. 

I didn’t even think about telling her. All I cared about was getting what I wanted.

I’m no hero.

“I was wondering if that’s why you joined the game,” Cedrick smirked. He squeezed Shanks’ shoulder one last time before releasing him, but the relief was lost when the next words spilled from that evil mouth. 

Shanks watched every bit of movement on her face now. He watched his selfishness curdle around her, poisoning any slim chance he still had to gain her trust. 

“All the players are going for the One Piece, so Red Haired Shanks is back to get his miracle ship,” Cedrick taunted, his eyes glued on his niece. “And now he can finally teach the little brat that cost him his boat a lesson. I wonder if my sentimental brother would have chopped down that tree if he knew his favorite daughter would have to spread her—“

“What about you?”

“Excuse me,” Cedrick turned toward the growl, his brows raised a bit. 

He’s not nearly fucking scared enough.

Shanks paused too long, but the second the asshole started to tilt back toward her, the pirate started talking. He had no idea what to say, but he knew he had to keep that piece of shit from looking at her again. 

“Families help each other out,” Shanks flirted, feeling like he was swallowing venom with every moment he smiled at this monster. “So, what about you? How could I help out my new family, if I were so lucky?”

“I have a few ideas,” Cedrick purred as he leaned back in his chair. His eyes were relaxed, and slow while they scanned over him, as though he had all the time in the world to make an Emperor of the Sea wait on his every word. “I think that’s enough business for today, though. Let’s get back to pleasure.”

Cedrick Sylvad forced them to toast at that, and Shanks couldn’t understand how his niece had kept all of those tears from falling. Y/N’s cheeks were dry, and she smiled at him when their glasses touched. It was a perfect smile, welcoming, alluring, and sweet. 

It was a death trap. 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

Every time Shanks walked into a tavern, he knew he might meet his death. Would it be with his weight in alcohol, or with the slim hope for a golden eyed grim reaper tucked into a corner booth?

Shanks had gotten stronger before, but since a few stupid words had taken all the joy from his life last year, he couldn’t focus on anything else.

Beautiful death sounded pretty good, but all he kept finding was booze. 

Until tonight.

“Hey, Hawk Eyes.”

“Hmm? Here to interrupt my lunch,” Mihawk noted, boredom radiating from him. “How delightful.”

The new Warlord of the Sea could feel the difference in power in his former opponent. He could see the muscles born of years of holding a sword in the redhead’s forearms while he carried two heaping mugs, invading his table again after four years. 

Mihawk could see the dim light of this sticky tavern glinting off of that lovely sword.

“I prefer wine,” he drawled, returning his gaze to his book while he tried to catch the man’s heartbeat over the noise. He’d have to get closer for that, but it was an unnecessary risk.

That sword deserved a true fight. 

“More for me then,” Shanks shrugged, gulping down one of the beers while his enemy sighed.

“If you’re not serious about challenging me, then kindly leave me to my reading.”

Shanks reached for the hand that held the book, but it withdrew so fast, danger in those golden eyes now as they narrowed on him. 

“There’s the monster I remember," Shanks raised his mug, drinking in the sight before him. 

Dracule Mihawk pulled his feet down from the table, and set his book aside, never taking his eyes off the pirate. Adjusting his jacket looked like an instinctual habit, the maroon fabric and floral patterns seeming out of place on a killer’s skin. 

“Do you shave your sideburns all pointy like that, or–”

“Are you suicidal, rookie?”

“What do you care,” Shanks scoffed. He couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t want to. “You’ve been looking forward to killing me, haven’t you? And I don’t see any blood on that big sword of yours, so you must be bored here.”

Mihawk wanted to stay bored, but this pretty pirate, and his ugly hat were getting on his nerves. 

“I’m sure one of the local drunkards could grant your death wish in a back alley brawl. I don’t need to dirty my blade on weak blood like yours.”

Oh, but he wanted to. 

And the red haired captain could see it. Just the slightest curve of those cruel lips, a faint intake of breath when he stretched his arms above his head, that dangerous gaze caught on every mark of training on his body. 

Shanks was fucking high on it, and he wasn’t going to let it end so soon.

“I’m here to challenge you, Hawk Eye Mihawk,” he smirked, finally free of thoughts as thrills shot through him. “I’m here to end you.” 

“You’re here to try.”

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

It’s okay. You’re okay.

Soothing words were bad.

Not real. It’s all pretend. 

Uncle Cedrick was talking again, lording over the lunch that had been laid out along the beach today. 

The beach where you’d begged him to touch you last night. 

Not real. 

Nothing matters. 

Fake is fine.

Not real. Can’t feel. 

“Come now, niece, don’t keep the hunters waiting!”

He handed you bit of cloth, and you had no idea what the fuck to do with it. Reality reformed around you, and you found your suitors lined up on the sand, watching your every movement. 

You held up the flag and dropped it down, grateful that you’d guessed right when most of the men started running toward the waves. 

“Good afternoon, Y/N,” came a deep, deep voice that almost pulled you free. 

“Hi, uh… Hello, Katakuri,” you shook beneath his gaze.

Oh yeah. Maybe this gentle giant will crush me to death tonight. That might make things easier.

“I was hoping that since it’s our night tonight, I might be able to sit with you today?”

“There’s no rule against it,” your uncle shrugged, snagging his drink to raise it toward the crimson haired man above. “Don’t ignore your other suitors though, niece. They’re putting in a lot of work to win you today.”

The portable screen that had been set up between some of the larger vehicles caught your eye. It showed Giberson lounging with a cocktail, sticking his pasty toes in the sand while he waved at the younger men running past.

Thankfully, the cam snails shifted their focus to your other suitors, their powerful bodies gleaming while most of them tore their shirts off before diving into the waves.

It was hard to enjoy the view with that glaring, red hair always hogging the screen. 

I bet he’s a fan favorite, that fucking—“

“Do you like sweets, Y/N?”

“I’m sorry,” you choked, head twisting to meet those stunning eyes. 

“I’ve noticed that you don’t seem to like the food they’ve been serving here, and since I was hoping to make something with you during our date tonight, I want to be sure you’ll enjoy it.”

Katakuri was shielding his eyes from the sun to look down at you, and you felt a stupid bit of guilt for ignoring this seemingly sweet man that came here to own you. 

“I love sweets, I’ve just been so nervous,” came another lie that was true. “It’s hard to eat when I’m nervous, but if you promise to share with me, then I can’t wait to—”

“Well, Emperor, that’s not quite what we were looking for,” Uncle Cedrick teased as he followed Shanks back to your table. 

“I found what I was looking for,” he rasped, going to a knee beside you. Your image on the screen held you prisoner, just as he planned to do.

Shanks’ title had never suited him so well. The Emperor of the Sea was drenched, his red hair gone dark, clinging to his face and neck. Drops of the ocean fell from the ends to pour down his body in hypnotizing lines. His chest was almost always bare, but the way his skin glowed under all that salt and sun turned his body into a work of art, something to gaze upon and enjoy, and you fucking hated him for it. 

Monsters should look as ugly as their souls. 

“I realized I didn’t bring you a gift last night, and I had to make it right.”

You heard the sand shifting as Katakuri moved closer, but Shanks held your gaze. 

Those soft, brown eyes held nothing but lies. 

“A beautiful shell for a beautiful girl,” he breathed, wincing slightly when your uncle joked for the crowd, lamenting how “lovey dovey” things might get if all the hunters tried to spoil you. 

You had to accept his gift.

It was a large conch shell, and it was beautiful, with spirals and spikes laid out in gentle colors. 

“Listen to it, Y/N. Can you hear the ocean?”

“I… Yeah, I can,” you nodded, holding the shell up to your ear. Distant music filled your mind, and you shoved the memories down. Luckily, a trail of dripping suitors was headed toward you, and you were grateful for any excuse to stop looking at him. 

You were so fucking close to smashing that spiky shell into his face.

“The deep, blue sea loves its creatures so much that it sends its ears along with them.”

“Uh, thank you? I–“

“And the winner of today’s hunt is Prince Fukaboshi!”

Shanks had no choice but to move when Uncle Cedrick grabbed your elbow to guide you to another small stage, riding it into the air beside you. 

The merman prince looked like the God of the Sea. 

His spotted tail made giant patterns in the sand as he floated toward you, shaking out his light blue hair before you came close to his glinting smile. His teeth.

Shark. He’s like a shark.

“For you, Miss Sylvad. I hope that whatever this treasure is brings you as much pleasure as your company brings me.”

So very carefully, Fukaboshi’s massive fingers placed an ornate wooden chest on the platform in front of you, and a look from your uncle sent you to your knees to open it up.

Salt water and seaweed poured out, sending chills over your skin before you reached inside. The treasure was hard to identify in the soggy container, but soon you held it up for everyone to see. 

Everyone could see you while you stared at the intricate ship in a bottle, your dad’s signature redwood still painted on one of the sails. 

“Thank you for finding this for me, Prince Fukaboshi,” you praised, teetering on the edge of tears again. “I… I haven’t seen it in a long time.”

You hadn’t seen one of his little ships since you’d smashed a few of them to pieces ten years ago. The rest had been hidden away before the spoiled heiress could destroy them all during another tantrum. 

More of dad’s perfect creations that he’d lovingly stuffed into a pretty cage.

The world swerved, and by some miracle, your shaky hands placed the bottle back into the chest, closing the lid with a soft thud.

“Are you feeling well, niece,” Unce Cedrick crooned as he laid his hand on your back, painting the picture of a loving family.

“Yes, uncle, thank you,” came your soft, gracious voice. Your Sylvad smile was the only armor you had against the onslaught of eyes.

“I feel perfect.” 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

It was the perfect fight. The perfect dance.

“Where was this fire back then, Red Hair? This rage?”

“You trying to distract me, Hawk Eyes?”

Shanks pressed all of his weight against that powerful blade, their swords scraping against each other like deadly instruments. Mihawk had that huge weapon tilted down for an attack he couldn’t finish, and the younger pirate laughed as he caged him in against a tree. 

“There’s no need,” Mihawk growled, his body singing with the first true challenge he’d faced in years. “You’re still an overconfident, little boy.”

“Well, this— gods damn it, really,” Shanks groaned, unable to rub the pain off of his face with all of his strength holding his sword against the other. “Aren’t you a fucking swordsman? Head butts don’t seem that honorable.”

“A true fighter knows when to be flexible,” Mihawk taunted, finally slipping from Shanks’ hold. 

Perfect. 

Any of his previous opponents would have been sliced in half by his quick recovery, Yoru gliding through the air like a bird of prey.

Yet this man parried the attack with hardly a second to shift after Mihawk’s escape. 

And he was smiling. 

“I told you we’d be having fun.”

“That’s what you’ve been training for all this time, Red Hair? You’re willing to die for a bit of fun?”

“Aren’t you?”

Their taunts grew breathier as the clash of blades went on, but soon they both carried feral grins, laughing at every near miss. They didn’t notice all the trees they knocked down, or the creatures of the forest that fled into the golden glow of the coming sunset.

This perfect dance had lasted for hours, but it could have been seconds or days to them. 

The dancers lost themselves in the sounds of bodies and blades, in the strength and will of their beautiful enemy, and in the sweat, blood, and dirt that only made them seem more like beasts, hungry for more. 

Until the end. 

“Do it.”

Mihawk couldn’t believe it. 

He’d slipped. Hours and hours of sweat and blood dripping through his fingers made him slip just enough for his enemy to slip through.

I should have wrapped the handle better. 

The swordsman huffed a laugh at his own arrogance. He hadn’t had to worry about sweating through that fabric in years. 

“Laughing in the face of death, huh,” Shanks asked, holding Gryphon to the Warlord’s throat. He’d pinned the man down, his weight pressing his enemy into the rough ground. 

“I’m waiting for death, Red Hair,” he sneered, stretching his neck to give the man a clearer target. “Get on with it.”

“Now why would I wanna do that,” Shanks rasped. The chaos in those pretty eyes was hypnotizing. 

Shame and fury almost broke the man loose, but all he could do was seethe while blood started to trickle down his throat from his movements. 

“If you don’t finish this I’ll—“

“Make a deal with me,” Shanks purred, leaning close to breathe his bargain over those snarling lips. “I want you to live, and get stronger, so we can have even more fun next time.”

“If you don’t end this now, I will kill you sl—“

“Slowly, right? Sounds like fun to me.”

He freed the monster, collapsing onto the ground beside him to laugh, and wince with the pain of their dance.

This feels good.

“Tomorrow. You die tomorrow, Red Hair.”

The Warlord felt pathetic spitting the threat from his back, but he tilted his head to find that shiny, bloody smile again. 

“Tomorrow it is,” Shanks agreed, before diving into even more dangerous distractions. “What about tonight, Hawk Eyes? You got any plans?”

“You are truly magnificent, you suicidal fool,” Mihawk laughed, a lovely sound from those cruel lips. The redhead wouldn’t stop beaming at him, and something in him snapped. 

Mihawk couldn’t stop laughing, even through the soreness, even when his ridiculous enemy joined in. 

“What do you say, swordsman, wanna go grab a beer?”

“I prefer wine.”

“Whatever you want, loser—mmnf.”

“I will kill you tomorrow,” Mihawk sneered, rolling to hold Kogatana to that pretty throat.

“Let’s go celebrate your victory then,” Shanks winked, his jaw shifting in playful challenge. “Do you prefer red or— It’s red, isn’t it?”

“So perceptive in your final moments,” Mihawk drawled after too long a pause, but he helped his enemy off the ground. 

He walked beside the man that could have killed him. That should have killed him. 

This isn’t safe. 

Mihawk tried to listen to his instincts, every muscle in his body screaming for him to take down the smiling threat at his side. 

Yet all he could do was follow that red, unable to look at anything else. 

~~~

“What are you doing,” Mihawk growled, shrugging off Shanks’ touch when they entered the tavern.

“Don’t you wanna clean your pretty clothes first,” he teased, before nodding his head toward the hallway he’d tried to pull his enemy down. “My room’s this way, and it’s got a nice bathroom we can use. We look pretty fucked up, Hawk Eyes.”

Shanks leaned in again, his lip scraping through his teeth just a bit. Just enough.

Fuck being safe. 

“Getting cleaned up is going to take awhile,” Mihawk gave in, returning that heated stare. “How many bottles can you carry?”

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🐊🤡~~~

Shanks had finally figured it out, but the weight of nausea wouldn’t leave. Buggy knew she’d wanted him, he knew that breathing, but listening to Shanks touch her when he didn’t know how she felt was… 

“You need to get some sleep, little clown. Do you… Did you wanna sleep somewhere else?”

Crocodile tried to sound light, as though he’d be fine with an empty bed knowing that his clown would be whimpering in his sleep like he had every night since she left. There was a growing awkwardness in the air since that private date started, and he didn’t know how to quash it, or if he had any right to.

“No, I don't,” Buggy admitted. That scarred face seemed so careful, as though the man were holding still so he wouldn’t spook him. With a sigh, Buggy knew it was probably true. He let himself be swallowed by that comfortable, deadly warmth again. 

Holding him close, Crocodile fell through his own mind.

At some point, he had lost sight of his goals. The greed of how to reach them made him lose the vision, and ultimately lose it all. How many other things should he have protected instead of destroyed? How could he ever balance the scales with those he wanted to keep?

“Hey, boss,” Buggy cleared his throat, lips twitching nervously when he turned to look at that frightening face, unreadable as stone. The tension in his body was pretty readable though, and it didn’t seem like either of them would be falling asleep anytime soon.

“I know it’s late, but do you, uh… wanna call him?”

~~~🤡🐊🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

They set their swords down. 

Mihawk had almost walked away, but Shanks tossed his sword out of reach first before backing into the bathroom with a crooked grin, and an open bottle of wine in each hand. 

“You comin’?”

The Warlord followed, not knowing if he could see the other man as anything but an enemy, even for a night. 

The bottle of red helped. 

“Here, let me help you with that.”

“It’s fine, I’ve— fu-uck!”

An absurdly large splinter had pierced into Mihawk’s lower back sometime during the fight, and although the two men had been staring at each other while they showered, they hadn’t touched until Shanks saw him struggling with that invasive bit of wood. 

“This little thing hurt that bad, huh,” Shanks teased as he tossed the splinter, reaching for the first aid supplies the bartender had shoved at them when they walked in dripping with blood. 

He soaked a swab in alcohol, and pressed it to the small wound before the swordsman could dodge him, and the desperate noise he let out made Shanks’ jaw drop. 

Mihawk turned away, grabbing a towel to tie down his body's reaction before leaving the redhead in the bathroom with his mouth still hanging wide. 

“I’ve got some extra pants you can—“

“I’m not wearing your ugly pants. They look like an old lady’s couch.”

Shanks snorted, admiring the sulking Warlord that was cleaning his already clean blade. 

“No pants then. I can live with that.”

“Is this what you wanted all along, Red Hair? I would have have fucked you on the tavern table if you’d just asked nicely.”

Shanks had left his towel in the bathroom, and his body’s reaction to those words was on full display while he leaned against the doorframe. 

“I don’t think losers get to be on top, Hawk Eyes.”

Rage was back. 

“And I don’t think I can wait until tomorrow to kill you.”

“Come on, friend,” Shanks dared, taking another swig while the hissing monster held that tiny blade to his throat again. “Let’s have some more fun.”

Who moved first? Neither could tell, but however it started, nothing in the world could stop them now. 

That kiss between rivals sparked another dance that would last for hours. 

Another fight that left them snarling and breathless, throwing taunts back and forth while they tore each other apart. 

Another battle of strength and will to see which man would fall to the other. 

“You truly believe you can take me,” Mihawk laughed, shoving his opponent against the wall hard enough for the wood to groan, and the dust to shake loose from the shelves beside them. 

“I believe you want me to,” the redhead taunted. It felt so good to be lost. “You keep hunting for someone who can. I bet you’re just dying to get fucked into the ground, aren’t you? Want me to hurt you?”

He fisted into that soft, black hair, yanking the man’s head back. That pathetic moan was music to his ears, and his cock was dripping with the need to shove it into the swordsman already. 

“And what about you,” Mihawk growled. He grabbed onto Shanks’ pulsing cock, and laughed when his knees nearly buckled. “You’re so obsessed with fighting me, trying so hard to fuck me. Willing to die for some fun? I’ve never met such a desperate whore.”

And they were kissing again, with Mihawk laughing into Shanks’ mouth while his cruel fingers made his enemy whine.

“Gods, if you’re gonna be such a sore loser, I guess you can take the win,” caved the redhead, breathless and aching to let this man clear his mind for as long as he could. He stumbled over to his bag, and tossed his rival a bottle of lube.

“Knew this was what you wanted,” Mihawk purred, already fisting the cool liquid over his swollen cock before bringing the bottle to his opponent’s waiting body. “You even came prepared.”

“Never know who you might run into at a— ooh, f-fuck. Mm, you’re so good at that.”

Mihawk smirked while his fingers tore so many noises from this gorgeous man, adding and stretching while he taunted him.

“I’ve never fucked someone I planned to kill the next day,” he threatened. That tiny smirk on the redhead’s lips was a challenge, and he needed to make this smug, little pirate beg.

Gods, he’s so pretty. He—

Shanks’ eyes rolled back, whatever he’d planned to say disappearing when the swordsman pierced him. Rough, angry, owning. Exactly what he needed.

“Hawk Eye— Hawk. Fuuck, you feel so fucking good, baby.”

“This it, huh,” he snarled, shoving Shanks’ thigh toward him with one hand, and grabbing that whining throat with the other. “Are you a little toy made just for me? Following me around until I sink my blade in you?”

Oh, those golden eyes. Shanks could have died right then, letting this man have him, but he didn’t want it to end. Didn’t want him to leave. 

And he just couldn’t help himself.

Mihawk had never made that sound before. He had his prey beneath him, flushed and desperate, those soft, brown eyes almost broken. 

Then there was pain.

He didn’t know what was happening until he saw that fucking smirk, but it was too late.

Shanks had found that little wound on his back, and dug his nails in. 

He looked so fucking smug before he followed his lover, arching his back while he came across his chest and stomach. It didn’t stop him from making Mihawk twitch and moan with sharp pleasure from the pain he kept twisting into his skin. 

They both whimpered and gasped while Mihawk kept fucking his come even deeper. Shanks’ nails in his skin were the strings of a marionette, controlling him, owning him.

It felt unreal.

The Warlord wanted to be angry, wanted to punish the grinning lover he still pierced, but he couldn’t think. 

Just a little while. A little while longer without thinking, until the enemies were taunting and teasing again, another round of showers to clean a different kind of mess away.

It felt…

It wasn’t safe.

“Where ya going, loser?”

Shanks’ high dropped fast, almost as fast as Mihawk climbed back into his fancy clothes. 

He didn’t want it to end.

“Sleep well, rookie. Tomorrow’s your last day.”

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

“Can’t sleep without me, clown?”

“No, shithead,” Buggy sneered, and Crocodile’s deep laughter poured through the transponder snail until Mihawk felt an almost smile touch his lips. “You’re an agent now, and we’d like an update.”

“Of course, Mr. President,” he teased, though he felt heavier with every breath. “This very late night update is that I’m floating on the sea.”

“Where did you end up heading first,” Crocodile interrupted Buggy’s grumbles, and his lovely voice sent guilt coursing through Mihawk’s veins.

“With these conditions, I should make it to Majiatsuka by this time tomorrow.”

“That’s the, uh,” Buggy groaned in thought, with the sound of rustling paper accompanying his noises. 

“That’s one of the island kingdoms around Dress Rosa, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Buggy answered Crocodile’s question, while Mihawk stared into nothing. “It’s right here, but that’s– You’re not gonna check out Whole Cake first? And Germa’s creepy boats are parked to the east. Which suitor lives–”

“Mihawk.”

He couldn’t speak.

“What’s wrong,” Buggy asked, quiet after Crocodile’s rage. 

Until he found his own. 

“Are you fucking STUPID? We don’t have a plan! I can’t believe you, you BATSHIT CRAZY fucking asshole. I’m gonna–”

“Explain,” Crocodile ordered, that dangerous purr ending Buggy’s rant. “Why are you going to the estate?”

“I’m going near the estate,” the swordsman cleared his throat, grateful that there was just enough room on his boat to pace. “I’m sorry I wasn’t truthful, but I didn’t quite lie. I’ll still try to gather intel to thin the crowd, bloodlessly if possible.”

“You do realize the sheer amount of manpower between you, right? The fucking surveillance?” Crocodile’s voice was edged with that dangerous disappointment, that waiting rage. “Hells, he probably already knows where you are with how much the Marines–”

“I can’t take it! I can’t take another fucking second of this!”

Nothing but the wind in the sails. 

Nothing but his ragged breathing, and his heart that was too fucking loud.

“Mihawk,” Buggy asked softly. True softness for the man that had tortured him, tormented him, taken and used his lover like a fucking whore. Mihawk couldn’t understand the forgiveness he’d been given.

He didn’t need it anymore.

“I’ll try, I will, I swear,” the swordsman vowed, not sure if he was telling the truth. “But I need her!”

“Little prince–”

“I don’t want to force her. I don't ever want to force her again. I want to respect her wishes, and wait until we know what she needs, what she wants… but I don’t want that. Not really.”

Mihawk gave a hateful laugh, nearly choking on his self loathing, but his rage would stop spilling out.

“I want to go in there, and grab her, and slaughter everyone on that island! I want to kill everyone that’s ever fucking looked at her! I want–”

“Hey, crybaby, you think I don’t fucking want that,” Buggy fumed, death in his voice.

“That’s why I’m doing this,” Mihawk slumped, not knowing when the tears began. “You deserve her. I’ll try not to go in there unless there’s no other way, but I need to be close.”

“What are you talking about,” Crocodile breathed. 

There wasn’t enough room on this boat to have these emotions, and Mihawk had to clench his fists to keep from tearing it to pieces.

“I need her, but I’d rather she hate me than… I’ll be the monster, so you don’t have to. I think I can live with her hate if I know she’s with you. With someone she loves.”

Nothing but the waves. 

“The security is still fucking vicious,” Crocodile rasped, anger draining from his voice. “And with the suitors’ people, and Sylvad’s pet Marines… That’s a lot of armies to fight.”

“I’ll be fine, and she already hates Shanks, so he can do whatever he has to,” Mihawk sighed as visions of violence soothed him. “The two of us should be able to tear the place asunder. The Cross Guild will need to relocate if it comes to that though. Probably disband, and go into hiding. You can take her somewhere. You can take care of her.”

“Shut the fuck up, you’re not doing this! She wouldn’t want—“

“Buggy, I’ll try to wait,” Mihawk pleaded, surprised that he still wanted permission. “Please, let me be the last resort. Call me if something happens, and I’ll bring her back to you. I’ll be the monster. Let me… please.”

The swordsman could hear his silent clown, those desperate breaths echoing through the night air.

That silence dragged on too long, and he couldn’t get her broken laughter out of his mind. Her uncle’s threats that Buggy had scrawled and crumpled in his rage and despair. The wound she had dealt him when she left. How perfectly cold her eyes had been. 

Until she wouldn’t meet his gaze. 

“I think she was telling the truth,” Buggy whispered, hardly breaking the silence. “She wanted to go, even though... I don’t think she’ll forgive you.” 

“I know. She shouldn’t.”

“Are you trying to be selfish, or selfless, little prince? Because either way, you’re fucking doing it wrong.”

The swordsman let out his own broken laughter, ducking into the small cabin to find a bottle of red. 

“Listen to me, bright eyes,” his business partner urged. “If you need to be out there, then do it, but don’t do this.”

“Don’t drink and sail,” Mihawk asked, popping the cork to pour the fine wine down his throat. 

He didn’t want to taste it. To observe the colors. He didn't want to notice the hint of plums, or the lack of his little bloodhound that he had wanted to taste the world with. 

“No, don’t be a fucking idiot,” Crocodile sighed. “Don’t act like you’ve already lost her. You don’t know what you’ll be able to do yet, or how she’s gonna feel. Our sweet girl is fierce.”

“Of course she is,” Buggy agreed, a steady faith in his voice that Mihawk envied. 

He had changed too late.

“Don’t throw your heart away because you don’t think you deserve it.” 

His scarred lover had touched the truth too close, as though the grief in those words wasn’t just for him. 

“You’re not gonna find a way if you think you’ve already lost, so if you’re gonna do this, then quit fucking around. Find out what our girl wants. Get her back. Convince her to stay.”

“But—“

“And you’re gonna work with us,” Buggy cut in, sounding brighter, his rage shifted back to annoyance. “We’re getting my star back, and I’m not gonna let you take all the credit, asshole.”

The World’s Greatest Swordsman was drifting alone on his one-man boat again. 

Not so alone. 

“You’ll call me if…”

“If we need a monster, you’ll be the first one I’ll call,” his clown promised, bringing a wave of sick relief at the thought. “But this whole sacrificing yourself for our happiness shit is fucking lame. Can you try not to be so dramatic?”

Silence. Nothing but the water. 

Nothing until the laughter started. Warm, deep laughter at their tearful swordsman, and their dramatic clown that joined in with a snort before they all forgot what they were laughing about. 

“I’m sorry I lied, daddy,” Mihawk breathed, suddenly cold at the thought of sleeping. 

“You’ll get your punishment. Just fly back home, little bird.”

“And stop being such a dumbass, please,” Buggy groaned, sounding squished as though a massive arm had curled around him. 

“No promises,” Mihawk laughed, “but I will try… Thank you.”

The Cross Guild said their slow goodnights, leaving the swordsman on that quiet sea.

He drifted alone on his one-man boat, but this time he floated between his distant lovers, knowing that he had always been right. Love isn’t safe. 

Fuck being safe. 

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

Author's Note: So I went a little wild here. Writing Mishanks' backstory felt like utter self indulgence, so I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did! I love all of our fucked up boys so very much 😭 Who's ready to make some sweets with Katakuri though? 🍩😏

Fic Updates & Extras:

Special thanks to the commenter who referred to Shanks' pants as "grandma couch patterned" a few months ago, it has lived in my brain rent free. I can't find the comment on tumblr or Ao3, but you have my eternal gratitude for making me snort every time I see him and his stupid fucking pants now 😅🙏🏼

I've included a timeline below with OP Canon and Numbers Game events in case y'all would like to see where all the flashbacks line up. I left out any events that gave away the Reader's age for those that don't want to see that, but I'll make a separate post with more details for those that do.

You have no idea how much I reduced this timeline, lol. My actual timeline is full of a ton of canon details since I plan to reuse it for other fics, and I of course left out the Numbers Game spoilers. I only brought this version up to six years before the current time because I'm still cleaning up the rest of my notes, but I'm happy to share more later if you're interested.

I apologize that I don't have the timeline in text format yet. I will be adding that soon since images aren't accessible for everyone. Please let me know if you'd like that so that my adhd brain doesn't forget!!

The vast majority of the canon details were compiled by the sweet, glorious, super heroes at the One Piece Wiki, and The Library of Ohara. I would be lost without them!!!! 🙌😭🙏🏼

I'm basing the Numbers Game geography off of This Map by xads181 on Reddit. It is absolutely stunning, holy wowzers! 😍

Do you know how little fucking time it takes to get between most of these islands? I thought my timeline was going too fast, but Oda really just had them speedrun their adventure while we take 25+ years to watch it. I love him so much 😅💜

Numbers Game Abbreviated Timeline ~ 6-52ish years ago:

I made this timeline using Miro if you're interested. It's got a free or paid version, and it's been helping me so much. (I completely ignore the AI (🤢) and collaborative features, but the mindmapping and such is just so good!) Writing this long of a fic with so much to keep track of was wild in my messy, poorly titled google docs list 😅

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword | @hey-august | @chaoticqueen33 | @destinationmars | @novakitten0901 | @h0n3y-l3m0n05 | @dorky-birdie | @szired | @pinejayy | @laws-wife-things | @jadeddangel | @gingernut1314 | @urlocaltwink | @blue-rae18 | @bontensbabygirl | @bbnbhm | @0-sparkling-lace-0 | @ihearthazuki | @mikisspeak | @djloveyou3000 | @mercymccann | @horse-and-writer97

Chapter 34

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[beskarberry]

Blue Orchid

Flowers for Ishtar, Chapter 1

(Nonhuman!Mando x f!Reader) [+18!]

You’d had to bite down on the corner of your blanket when you thought of him pinning you to the wall or bending you over the dashboard, stuffing you full of his length while he groaned his praises in your ears until you were soaked.

This was not at all what you had imagined.

Next->

Summary: You discover your hunting partner isn't human, which in a galaxy far, far away isn't that strange until his alien needs become too much for him to hide.

Rating: Explicit as FUCK

Word count: 9.2k

Content warnings: Major kinks: breeding and pregnancy, eggs and oviposition, mpreg/fpreg, alien genitalia. Minor kinks: praise, eating and weight gain. Kink sprinkles: threw some things in like just a tad of sex pollen, hair pulling, spanking, a very brief daddy kink, the idea of a/b/o. There's a few more but if you're familiar with my writing you know what's up. Negatives: body horror, dysphoria.

A/N: Yeah... um... hm... So this is some weird shit but if you enjoyed Garden of Ishtar this will be right up your alley. If that was weird and creepy for you then this is not for you! You have been warned!!!

There’s something strange going on with your partner.

Mando, as he insisted on being called, even though that was clearly not his real name, had been acting differently recently. Though he was an odd one from the get-go, the burly, short-tempered, efficient hunter took some getting used to, but now something about him was off.

It was a strange partnership you’d gotten yourself into, ever since that day you had been sitting in the same cantina booth as him on Nevarro, arguing with Karga over the last available bounty puck.

“Karga, I’m not splitting a puck with this guy.” You’d barked, crossing your arms and leaning back with a huff. Next to you, the armored stranger grunted in agitated agreement, his plated shoulders catching the light as they stiffened. You didn’t know each other, and as far as you could tell the only thing you both had in common was that you both worked for the Guild.

“Well that’s too bad!” The old agent stated, shaking his head. “This is the last one I’ve got until next month, so unless one of you wants to wait until then, this is all I have left. You're going to have to work together as a team.”

“Unless I kill her first.” The iron giant said coldly, not even looking your way.

“I’d like to see you try.” A knife flew from your belt to the table as you buried the tip of it in the faux wood counter, glaring daggers with your eyes at his shiny metal head.

“Easy now, we’re all friends here! Can’t have my two best hunters fighting, or killing each other…”

“Bullshit, I’m the best hunter here, Kargsy, and you know it.” Fury seethed from your words, but it was seemingly lost on the other man. “Tinman here can go fuck himself.”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“No, but I fuck yours with it!”

Greef slammed a fist down on the table, making the trio of spotchka glasses bounce and spill. “That’s enough, either you two figure out how to play nice or neither of you will be getting this puck, or any other pucks for that matter! And that’s final!”

That was six months ago.

Despite your differences, the pair of you made for a terrifying duo, between his heavily armored body and your quick, nimble blades, it was like hell itself had released its most deadly demons. The bounty was found, hunted, and captured so quickly and easily that the minute the Razor Crest touched back down on Nevarro you were both excitedly harassing Karga for more.

Your newfound companion didn’t talk much, but what he didn’t say with his words he made up for with his actions. He gave you a little backstory, filling you in on his Mandalorian heritage and what that meant regarding his helmet and armor, and you were fine with the condition that he would never show his face around you. What he did show you was how lethal he could be, a whirlwind of blasters and beskar, an immovable object that coupled neatly with your unstoppable force.

It was poetry in motion.

Bounties fell at your feet like wheat before the scythe, wracking up credits like Kessel-running smugglers which you both blew on firearms and vibroblades as if the galaxy was ending tomorrow. What didn’t go towards guns and ammo went towards food and fuel, the Crest blasting off of Nevarro again and again and again.

As time went on, you slowly started to warm up to each other. You couldn’t really say you were friends, just work partners that happened to be flawlessly efficient at what they did. It was a fine arrangement, but over time small, but significant changes between you started to catch your attention.

You’d pinned a bounty, a large, malodorous Twi’lek that nearly squirmed out from your grasp, only to earn themselves a vicious cold-clocking to the back of their tentacled skull. Breath heavy and eyes burning with aggression, you’d slogged the captive into the carbonite freezer like you were taking out the trash, your wanton strength not going unnoticed by your companion.

“Good job.” Mando had said with a tilt of his helmet, watching your chest heave with adrenaline. “Such a strong verd’ika, can’t wait to see what you do to the next guy.” He’d never complimented you up to that point, if he spoke to you at all. It’d caught you off guard, but in a good way, and you knew right then you wanted to hear him say it again.

So you kept doing a good job.

And you did it on purpose.

The next bounty you held in place while Mando punched their lights out, holding steadfast against the living sledgehammer that was your partner, wincing every time you felt his fists explode against the Aqualish’s exoskeleton. When they’d keeled over, you let them fall to the floor, jumping slightly when Mando patted your shoulder, impressed with your ability to hold your own.

He seemed kind, when he wasn’t retaliating against your snide remarks or beating the living shit out of a bounty. Often when it was just the two of you he was almost soft spoken, asking you if you got enough to eat or if your wounds needed tending to, but not once did he ever make a pass at you.

That was somewhat of a surprise, but you didn’t even know what species he was, so there was a good chance you weren’t even on his sexual radar. He looked human, he obviously wasn’t a Togruta or a Twi’ with that helmet, and he was too tall to be a Rodian or Ugnaught. Too broad to be Gungan.

He was humanly proportioned to a sinful degree, his wide armored shoulders and cinched waist giving you wicked thoughts in the late hours. Even his fucking voice did something to you, the deep, gravelly husk of it almost reverberated in your chest when he spoke, and more than once you wished it would vibrate for you somewhere else.

But you were just two hunters making a living, nothing more.

Recently, however, something had started to change; and it wasn’t something that you liked. You weren’t buddy-buddy, but in the recent weeks his demeanor had started to wane. Mando was always private, taking his meals alone and keeping the fresher door locked when in use, but even when he wasn’t dealing with the necessary inconveniences of being alive he was starting to avoid you more and more.

At first you let him have his space, it was none of your business what was bothering him if he wasn’t going to speak up about it. But as the weeks seemed to drag on his temper began to flare more often, his sentences getting even shorter than they already were, his words sharp and vindictive.

You let it slide until he was rude to a merchant in a Bespin market, demanding more food rations than what he was being offered. Mando had left the market with so much dried meat and canned vegetables that it was falling out of his satchel, leaving a breadcrumb trail of bantha-in-a-can as he stormed back to the ship.

He was eating more often, too, squirreling himself away from your campfires or tucking himself up in either his sleeping cubby or the cockpit; whichever was further away from you at the time. You had your own space in the upstairs part of the Crest where he’d strung a ramshackle hammock for you, but it was so close to her reactors that you frequently woke up sweaty whenever you were in hyperspace.

On one such occasion you decided to sneak over to the ladder hatch when he thought you were sleeping, carefully peeking into the hold below. You could see him in his alcove, but just barely, only his back visible to you from your vantage point. He was eating, a lot. You watched his back and shoulders heave with each desperate bite of food, gorging himself as if he’d been lost in the desert for weeks.

The next cycle he kept his back to you almost constantly, like he was trying to hide something from view, but there were very little private spaces in the ship, especially while the stars streaked by overhead. Try as he might, he couldn’t hide his secret from your prying eyes, though you weren’t surprised with what you saw after watching him eat like there was no tomorrow.

He was gaining weight.

It was just a little at first, maybe just an illusion brought on by some extra layers of clothing; hyperspace was chilly, after all. However it soon became obvious as his extra warmth began to pudge over his belt and upset his armor that it wasn’t all fluff. You checked the larder after he went up to the cockpit to work on the navigation, and you were alarmed to find that almost half of your rations were already used up after having left Bespin only three cycles ago.

Something was definitely up with your partner.

You were watching him now from where you sat on one of the supply crates, toying with a vibroblade while he rigorously cleaned a plate of his armor, his back turned to you. His beskar was spotless, nary a drop of blood or spec of dust remained. He was just trying to distract himself from his newfound curves, but you were starting to get frustrated.

It was time to get to the bottom of this.

“Hey, are you feeling alright? You’ve been acting-”

“I’m fine.” he barked, the aggression behind his words making you jump. You weren’t afraid of him, or he of you. Your partnership was mutually beneficial and respected, and it wasn’t like him to be so short with you in close quarters. You weren’t having any of it.

“That’s crap and you know it, something's up with you, I can tell. You wanna talk about it?” Though he wasn’t looking your way, you cast your eyes at his pudge muffin, hoping he would catch your implications without you having to put it into words.

He said nothing, instead he rose from his seat and hurried up the ladder to the flight deck, sealing the airlock behind him.

You didn’t see him again until the ship dropped from hyperspace.

It was a quiet couple of days, and fucking boring too. Mando didn’t even come down to use the fresher or grab food, which made you nervous after seeing him stress eating like he had been. The Crest touched down on Jedha not far from an enormous crater that the Empire had put there in its heyday, but even when the engines went quiet, the blast door remained sealed.

“Mando? You still alive in there?” You asked tentatively with your ear pressed to the door, rapping your knuckles against the durasteel.

“Fine.”

“Are you coming out?”

There was a long pause, then: “...No.”

You grumbled and donked your head against the door. “Are you gonna make me go get this bounty myself?” He didn’t answer, which unfortunately meant the answer to your question was ‘yes’. You sighed heavily like you’d heard him do innumerable times. “You suck. Do you need anything before I head out?”

“No, thank you verd’ika.”

He was still alive, and talking, so those were both good signs, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong with him during your entire hunt. The bail jumper you were after came quietly, which on a regular day would make you angry that you had even wasted fuel for such a lame chase, but you were anxious to get back to your partner.

You marched the delinquent up the ramp and goaded them into the freezer, filling the little cabin with carbonite fog. Though you were making a hell of a racket, you still hollered up the ladder before climbing it, only to find the cockpit empty. Nervously you searched the upper floor, checking everywhere from your hammock to the fuselage, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Jumping down the ladder, you quickly scanned the hold, only to realize that you’d run right past him. The door to his cubby was closed, like it always was even when he wasn’t in it, but outside on the floor near the entrance were piles of empty food tins. Horrified, you checked the larder, your eyes going all the way to the bottom of the crate. He ate everything!

“Mando! I’m back! Open up!” You yelled, pounding your fist on the door, not giving a flying fuck if he was asleep. Something was very, very wrong.

“You’re back already?” He called, his voice weak and hoarse behind the door, making your blood run cold. Oh Maker no, don’t tell me he’s sick.

“Yeah, and I’m worried about you! Open this damn door before I rip it off its rails.”

“You need to leave. You can’t be here.”

“‘Scuse me? Fucker I live here! I’m not-”

“Please, you’re not safe.” He pleaded, his voice sounded broken and desperate, like he was trying to choke something back.

“Not safe? Mando you’re not making any sense, I already took care of the bounty, they-”

“You’re not safe from me!”

A weird mix of emotions flooded through you, first the worry for the health of your partner, the confusion at his panic, and suddenly the rage that burned behind your eyes at the mere notion of him thinking you couldn’t peel him apart like a can of sardines.

You’d had enough.

“Fuck you, chum bucket, this ends right now! Hope you’ve got pants on because I’m coming in!”

“No! Don’t, please!”

“HERE I COME!” You bellowed as you slammed your fist into the glowing button panel on the wall, deaf to his fretful protests. The metal grate rattled as it rolled upwards, and briefly your eyes caught the back of his head right before his helmet sank down over the dark curls that he kept secret. The fact that he even had hair was the least startling thing of all.

What hit you first was the smell.

Inside the sleeping cubby where the Mandalorian was hurriedly scuttling into the deepest reaches, the pungent scent of...something hurtled through your synapses. It didn’t stink, quite the opposite, it smelled delicious. Warm and rich, like honey on fruit sitting out on a beautiful summer day, the alien aroma making your mouth water.

“What the fuck is that smell?” you roared at the man huddled as far away from you as he could get, his body lost to the shadows behind the scattering of armor he had discarded. You didn’t like that one bit, feeling something akin to pity at his doubled-over, armorless frame. You sniffed the air again, taking deep, greedy inhalations and trying to decipher what the fuck was going on. “Are you eating starfruit?! You fuckhole! You’re snacking without me!”

“Please leave me alone.” He grumbled, wedging himself even harder against the back wall. “I’m fine, really, I just want to be alone.”

“Well that’s just too fuckin’ bad, you’re sick, and the least you could do is tell me what’s wrong. I have a right to know if my partner is gonna up and die on me.” He pleaded again, his voice sounding whiny even through his vocorder, but you were having none of it. “I’m coming in.”

“Dammit all, why won't you leave me alone?!” He was yelling now, but in his anger he turned enough towards you that you could see his front, making you gasp.

Big.

“Holy fucking shit, Mando, are you… are you pregnant?!” Hidden by his broad backside no longer, his protruding belly caught the light, jiggling a bit when he wrapped his arms around it.

“No! I mean… sorta…”

“The fuck do you mean sorta?!” you were screaming now, blown away by his swollen guts and the fact that he was very much not pregnant only a few days ago. “What the hell is that then?!”

He was caught now, you’d seen his shame and there was no going back. “They’re… they’re my eggs.”

You stood a moment, staring at him while your mouth flopped uselessly like a dying fish. Welp, there’s your answer, he is not human. There were lots of sentient species in this great big galaxy you called home, many of which produced offspring via eggs, so you weren’t as surprised by that as you were by the suddenness of it. Of... him.

Mando rubbed at his belly, curling in on himself as if doing so would shrink him down into nothingness where he could disappear into oblivion. “Please, it’ll pass, I’ve just… I’ve never had anyone around me while I...grmph... deal with it.”

His groan of pain broke your stare, pumping determination into your legs along with the burn of adrenaline. “Do… do you need help? Is there anything I can do for you?” You leaned forward into the alcove, reaching for him. “Are you in pain?”

“...I-I’m f-fine.” He shirked away from you, avoiding your touch. “Happens every couple of years, just...hmmph… it’s not usually… so much.”

Now you were just plain fascinated, climbing up slowly on your hands and knees, trying to be delicate. “Mando, I’m your partner, I’m not just gonna stand around while you suffer. Tell me what I can do to help.” The warrior flinched hard when your fingers found his shoulder, reflexively protecting his belly. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Cyar’ika, please, I don’t want to...hmmph… do anything that I-I’ll regret.”

“You already ate all our fucking food, what more could you do to piss me off?” You said with a laugh, trying to break the tension. Carefully you brushed your hand along his clothed shoulder, a thin smile dancing over your lips when you felt him shudder.

“You shouldn’t touch me, I’m dangerous.”

“You ain’t shit, and I’ve seen how you’ve stiched my wounds closed, you won’t hurt me. I know you.”

“No you don’t!” He screamed, flipping around all the way to try and shoo you out of the cubby, but his hefty gut kept him rooted in place. You couldn’t help but stare at his rounded middle, his flack coat straining to keep zipped shut as the weight of him wobbled delightfully. It made you laugh.

“Mando! You’re gonna be a m... da... parent! You’re gonna be a parent! Why didn’t you tell me?! I would have baked you a cake.”

“It’s.. it’s never been this bad.” he stuttered, consigning himself to the fact that he was stuck with you. “I grow a clutch every year or so, but it’s usually just a handful of... them.” he hissed with an air of disgust, shame creeping into his voice. “They pass without much issue, but it’s never been this much.”

“What do the other Mandalorians do when this happens?”

He shook his head, guarding his middle. “Mandalorian isn’t a race, it’s a creed. The Mandalorians rescued me after an army of droids killed my parents and everyone else in my village. I… I don’t know what species I am, and neither does my clan. There’s no record of my village, or where they found me, and I can’t find anything on the holonet about… this.” His visor tilted down to his tummy. “I might be the last of my kind.”

“Mando, that's terrible, but I’m sure there’s more of you somewhere. There’s gotta be! Maybe if you took off your helmet I could see-”

“No, helmet stays on. I don’t need to add the indignity of a broken creed to this mess. Now please, mesh’la I’m begging you, lock me in here and let me ride this out alone. I don’t know if I could live with myself if I hurt you.”

You scuttled closer on your knees until you were right up against him, cautiously reaching out towards his swell. His visor snapped at you, his body flinching harder into the corner, but he was trapped. “Why do you think you’ll hurt me?” You whispered as your palm met the straining fabric cradling his shameful secret.

He grabbed your wrist so hard you felt your bones grind from the strength of his grip. “Because…” he growled, the timbre of it so low you felt a shiver run down your spine. “Because I don’t know what I am, but I know I need to put these eggs somewhere, and I want...I need to put them… inside…” He trailed off when a painful contraction shook his body, making him let go of you to hold himself together. “Get out now! It’s starting… please I can handle this alone but if you’re near me… I don’t know what I’ll do!”

“Shut’cher gob and tell me what to do, and don’t tell me to leave because I won’t!” You didn’t know jack shit about human births, let alone alien gestation, but you’d been through some fucked up situations, what’s one more for good measure? “I’m guessing you need to get your pants off.” His breathing was heavy, his helmet tilting with each laboured heave, but he nodded and started to fumble with the zipper of his trousers.

Your heart leapt to your throat. In the darkness of your hammock you’d imagined what it would be like to undress him, taking each of his beskar plates off and trailing your fingers down his tight clothes, revealing the man underneath like unwrapping a gift. With your fingers lost between your legs you’d pictured his muscular shoulders and broad chest, maybe even a trail of dark hair that led you all the way down his beefy abdomen to his thick, heavy cock. You’d had to bite down on the corner of your blanket when you thought of him pinning you to the wall or bending you over the dashboard, stuffing you full of his length while he groaned his praises in your ears until you were soaked.

This was not at all what you had imagined.

His gloves and his girth were giving him a hard time, so diligently you stepped in to help him undress. Your nimble fingers found the button and zipper with ease, the heat of his groin making your cheeks flush rosy pink, and then red when you pulled the zipper across the bulge in his pants and flooded the tiny nook with the perfume of his sex.

The hair surprised you, you didn’t think that an egg-bearing creature would even have curls, but there they were. Dark brown and soft against your fingertips, growing from lovely, sun-bronze skin, but that was the last of his human traits from there on. Ultimately, you were expecting a cock, horrified by the implications of what that meant in this situation, but as the zipper’s teeth continued to split, your eyes were greeted with something that made your guts flip.

It was fucking blue.

The thing sitting heavily between his legs was the prettiest ocean blue you had ever seen, with coils of deep indigo veins running up it’s length between bands of bioluminesce. Long, thick, and glowing, Mando’s half-hard trouser meat sprang out of his open pants, a relieved sigh wheezing through his modulator. It was shaped like a wang dangler all the way up to the head, but there it was something else.

At his tip a circle of petal-shaped protrusions cinched together like the blossom of a flower right before it bloomed. The knobbed end of his thingy wept with clear juices, beading deliciously from between each little bud. Your eyes were locked to a particularly fat drop of precum as it slicked down his length to his base where you found another feast for your eyes.

A hole.

He didn’t have balls, you guessed they were somewhere inside him, instead he had a fat, juicy cunt, his quivering cock growing from where a clit would be on a human. It was just as alien as his length, a dark cobalt that lightened to vibrant teal around sharp teeth that lined his widely spread folds. Those rightfully made you nervous, and fucking confused. What the hell are those supposed to latch on to? Me?!

“I’m disgusting, I know.” He whispered, turning away from you to study the wall while you studied his excitables.

“What? No you’re not, you’re… you’re beautiful.” He snapped back towards you, his visor searching your star-struck eyes for the hint of a lie, but there wasn’t one. He was looking at you, but you weren't looking at him, you were looking at him, straight through his groin into his vulnerable soul. There was just so much, and you wanted to touch all of it. Reflexively you licked your lips, wondering if he tasted as good as he smelled. Your fingers crept forward, hovering inches from his cerulean length. “Can I?”

A sharp inhale echoed in the cubby, followed by a stark nod. “Be gentle… it’s... argh… sensitive!”

“Shhh, Mando, I’ve got you. I’m gonna take good care of you.” Your fingertips met his heated flesh, making him shudder and groan. His strange length twitched from your touch, making another pearl of precum shimmer from the tip. You wrapped your hand around him, stroking the velvety length that weighed heavily against your palm. His helmet hit the wall with a deep, guttural moan, sending molten waves of heat to your own growing need.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck mesh’la...your hands are amazing.” The man purred, letting his arms fall from his belly to his sides where his fists tangled in the threadbare sheet. His hips thrust upwards into your slow tugs, rutting into your palm. In the tight quarters the mouthwatering scent of honeyed fruit grew stronger until you were sucking down your own spit to keep it from flooding your mouth.

“Hehe, yeah? You like this?” You flicked your wrist in languid spirals, running your thumb over the weeping blossom to drag warm slick down his length and towards your second goal. His toothy slit parted for you as you got closer, the pearly white fangs curling away from you safely. With one hand still on his beef, you rubbed your fingertips around his flushed hole, sinking a digit down to the knuckle.

“Yes.” he moaned breathlessly, his womb jiggling when he convulsed from your touch. You sank another finger inside, scissoring him open while you fisted his cock. “K-keep doing that and... and…” His heels scooted on the mattress when he clenched around you, his swelling length pulsating in your hand. A needy whine busted out of his modulator, and between your sunken digits you felt something grow.

“Go ahead, Mando, come on my hand, or in my hand, I don’t care. That’s a good boy.” He bucked into your steady thrusts, lost in the combination of filling and being filled. His walls fluttered around your fingers, and you felt something press against you when he bore down, but instead of something popping out of his cunt, something went up his length.

*Pop!*

From the tip of his spear, a bright orange ball sprang from him, surprising you so much you let go of his throbbing shaft and pulled your fingers from his slit. Excitedly you plucked the egg from where the halo of petals parted, presenting the orb to you like a priceless gem. “You did it! Look, Mando, it’s a… ball! Congratulations.” You were beaming, so proud of yourself for midwifing him through the process, but he was shaking his head.

“There’s more… and… and I’m starting to get desperate. You got me started, I can take it from here. Thank you for your help.”

“I’m not leaving til you’re done, but let me go find a bucket or something to… oh no!” In your hand the soft shelled egg started to dissolve and wither in the dry air, turning into goo that dribbled down your arm. “Oh shit! Oh shit Mando I’m so sorry! I-I don’t know w-what happened!”

“No no… It's alright.” He shook his head, bringing a hand up to caress his swell. “They never make it. It’s ok though, it's not like they’re fertilized. Please leave me now, your hands aren’t going to tide me over for long, and I don’t want to do something I’ll regret.”

“You keep saying that! I don’t understand, why do you think that you’ll-”

“Because I want to breed you.” The singular black eye of his visor snapped viciously towards you, making you pale. “I’m sorry, but it’s all I can think about. It’s been getting worse the closer I’ve gotten to my heat, but I don’t want to do that to you, I respect you too much. Please… forgive me.” He looked away from you shamefully, but his luminous length was still pulsing with the rapid beating of his heart. “I think being around you is why I’m so full, you’re just so damn beautiful… a-and I want you.”

Maybe it was the sickenly-sweet spice that he was putting off, or the cum soaking your hands, or even the vulgar fantasies that you imagined to yourself in the night, but you were intrigued. “You wanna do what now?”

“Breed you.” He growled, his voice so dark and sinful everything inside you clenched around nothing. “Fucking stars ever since you stabbed the cantina table I’ve wanted to be inside you. Feel your pretty little pussy squeezing me, hear those sweet moans you make when you’re alone at night… yes I can hear you. You’re louder than you think you are. But I want to be the one making you scream.” His growls turned to forced laughter. “I wish I’d gotten to before...this.”

“I don’t mind this…” You hummed, dragging your fingers along his velvety length, but he caught your wrist again, shaking his head.

“Stop, before I can’t hold back anymore.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to hold back.” You batted your lashes at him and bit your lip, leaning seductively towards his hunkered body. “Maybe I wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t know what I’d do to you, what my… ugh… eggs… would do to your body.”

“Maybe we should… find out?”

“You don’t know what you're asking.”

“Neither do you.” With that you rolled forward to kiss at his big blue eel, making him curse out your name and grab a fistful of your hair.

“Mesh’la…”

You hummed and lapped at his crown, his nectar tasting even better than it smelled. Sweet and succulent, driving you crazy with need. Your venomous tongue could be so kind when it wanted to be, swirling around his knobbled head and flicking at his frenulum. Beneath you he was a mess, writhing and bucking with desperation. Lips slick with spit, you sank your mouth as far down as you could take him without gagging, fisting the rest with one hand and teasing his cunt with the other.

Fingers digging into your scalp, Mando fought the urge to fuck your throat raw, your obscene sucking threatening to toss him right over the edge. You hollowed your cheeks and spun your tongue, lapping around each sensitive bean and plunging into his slit to drink him down.

His muscles swelled and clenched with another pass, and you barely were able to pull your mouth away when a new sphere spat out his tip, rolling away from you to melt elsewhere. “Mando, they’re going to waste, what are we going to do about that?”

“Take your fucking clothes off so I can fuck them into you, pretty girl.” He was gone, the husk of his voice making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. “Let me breed you properly, make you mine. Show you what it means to be mated by a Mandalorian.”

You obeyed, rocking back on your haunches to peel your shirt away, releasing your breasts into the hot, steamy space. The black swath of void where his eyes should be drank in the sight of you as if you were the last glass of water on Tatooine, his hand coming up to pinch at your pert nipple. “These are beautiful. I’ve dreamed about these for so long, but they’re so much better in person.”

“They taste better, too.” You crawled over top of him, your knees in between his, waving the heavy dewdrops in front of his armored face. “You wanna?”

“My creed…”

“Party pooper. Fine, then you better help me open up, you’re packin’ more than I think I can fit.” You’d taken lovers before, once you’d even taken a Wookie on a drunken dare, and if it wasn’t for the persistent wet dog smell it might have been the best sex you’d ever had. But Mando was thick, and even thicker when his cock swelled to push out an egg.

“Are you really ok with this? You’re not just saying…”

“Mando~” You purred, pressing your softness against his pulsating length, shivering when you felt his fangs scrape your thighs. “Breed me. They’ll just melt back out anyway, what’s a little...fun?”

He reached a hand up tentatively to your face, his helmet shaking slightly from side to side while he hunted in your eyes for any resistance, any clue that you were just saying that to make him feel better, but he found none.

“How did I get so lucky…”

“You’re about to get even more lucky.” You teased, taking his hand from your cheek to pry the black and yellow glove off, chucking it somewhere behind you. The flesh of his hand matched the flesh of his groin, a soft golden tone that looked like it was kissed by the sun, but not once had you ever seen him bare an inch. It was also very human, looking much like your own, save for the length and thickness of his fingers and the dark hair that grew from his knuckles. They were very much the hands of a man.

Yay!

Your pants fell away next, disappearing out of the cubby and onto the floor with the collection of empty ration tins and discarded armor. Naked as the day you were born, you clambered over him and flopped against his side, letting your legs fall open. “Touch me, Mando, get me nice and ready to be bred.” He growled against you, rolling on his side and cradling you to his chest so he could easily sink his fingers into your fluttering heat.

“Fucking stars, you’re soaked. This all for me?” You nodded and whined, your eyes rolling back when he dove one finger inside, then a second, curling them upwards to find that hidden patch of nerves you could never really reach on your own. “Gonna get you nice and open, make you cum so you can take my clutch. Would you like that, mesh’la, want me to fill you up? Swell your belly full?”

You mewled at the debauchery of it all, blissed out of your mind as he finger fucked you relentlessly. His fingers sank into you all the way to the knuckle, his thumb drawing tight, diligent circles on your clit. Mando snaked his free arm under your neck, pulling you in close to his muscular body and leaning his helmet against your brow. The cold metal burned against your sweating forehead, the steam of his breath coiling out from under the sharp iron edge with every ragged breath.

“That’s it, come for me, beautiful. Almost there.” Your nails dug into his clothed shoulders and made you realize he was way more dressed than you were. Need to fix that. With shaking knees you squirmed and writhed on his slick hand until he brought you over the edge, your walls trying to break his fingers as you came, drenching the thin sheets. “Good girl, such a perfect little cunt. Give me one more, cyar’ika.” All his gentleness evaporated as he thrust into you, his thumb pressed to your sensitive button and making you fall apart all over again.

“Fuck me, Mando, please! I want you in me, you’re not the only one with wet dreams, y’know.” He rumbled a laugh and pulled his arm out from under your neck and his fingers from your sopping mess, dragging the wet of it across your bare thigh. Hauling himself up, he moved until he was between your legs, pulling his remaining glove off and working to undo his flack.

With bated breath you watched him hurriedly undress, wondering what other fun alien treats he was keeping from you. As the dark fabric fell away, your eyes were gifted with the sight of his body, though besides the wandering blue tiger stripes and his obvious non-human bits, he was remarkably close to a man.

Except for the parts of him that were glowing.

Strings of faint teal lights followed the flow of his body, mixed intermittently with yellow stars. It wasn’t enough to illuminate the little alcove, but it was a beautiful sight nonetheless, a constellation of stars you could call your very own.

His chest was wide and muscular, a trail of dark brown hair dusting down his sternum and over the swell of his middle. His arms and shoulders looked like tree trunks, ribbons of countless scars marring his flesh with shimmering whites and pinks. Pushing his pants all the way off gave you an even better view, though he had considerably more glow streaks further down his legs, spanning from the sapphire spire around his hips.

He was fucking gorgeous.

What does his face look like, then?

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you, right?” He asked sweetly, grabbing his beast and dragging the leaking head against your thirsty little cunt. You bucked your hips up to him, trying to notch him in your entrance, but he pressed his tip into your clit to make you writhe. “Tell me, I need to hear it.”

“Yes, Mando, now please please fuck...me!!” He snapped forward and thrust his appendage into you, bottoming right out even though his full tummy was in the way. He held himself still, his body shivering with delight as your excited walls rippled around him. Deep inside you felt the little buds at his tip teasing at the tight ring of muscle that protected your innermost sanctum, politely asking for entry.

“Fuck-ing Maker, I knew you would feel good, but...ah… so much better than I ever imagined.” You giggled at him, reaching out and rubbing the taut flesh of his abdomen where it sat heavily against your own, rocking your hips side to side. His fingers dug into the skin of your knees with a broken curse, trying to hold you still. “Keep doing that and I’m gonna…”

“What? This?” You arched your hips into his, trying to coax him into gear. “I didn’t know you were such a tease, tinman.” His helmet vibrated with a growl before he was sliding himself out, making sure you felt every inch of his length drag along your walls. The head of it almost managed to drop out, sitting tantalizingly at your gates before thrusting into you with reckless abandon.

You shrieked, impaled on his otherworldly spire again and again, the noise of it wetly echoing in the cubby. Above you he grunted with the strain, hooking his elbows under your knees and going to town. You were helpless, head rolling back, eyes fluttered shut as he filled you over and over again, moaning out his name.

Though he was lost in the heat of the moment, he wished the name on your lips was his real name, the one he had sequestered away when he took his oaths. Din. He fantasized about it in the night, the short syllable tumbling from your full lips, wet from sucking him dry. Din! He wanted to snuff out the sound of it with his own mouth, capturing your tongue and tasting you fully, plundering the hot wet hole that would so beautifully sing his song.

“Din!”

But Mando would have to do.

For now.

Both of you could feel he was getting close to something, his thrusts quickening with his breath. You felt your heartbeat gallop in your chest, thundering against the walls of its cage with excitement. He was gasping, struggling to pull oxygen in through the iron that protected his face. Hips snapped against yours, the slap of skin sounding obscene in the little space. You arched your back and bore down on him, your coiled muscles milking out his release.

And then you fucking felt it.

The clever little buds on his tip stuffed themselves into the cradle of your body, teasing your cervix open and leaving something behind. Inside you felt the soft little ball swell your womb sweetly, giving you a feeling of fullness you’d never experienced before. You keened from the sensation, bringing your hands up to your belly, searching for your treasure.

“Are you alright? Am I hurting you?” Mando asked urgently between broken breaths, a weathered palm coming up to caress your face. You tittered and nodded, his relieved sigh felt through your legs and stomach.

“Got any more for me, big boy?” You purred, dragging your nails through the soft hair on his bulging abdomen where he obviously did.

“You’re going to ruin me, cyar’ika.” The pulsating length stuffed inside you slid out slowly, stringing a line of precum from your slick heat to his flushed blue tip. “Get on your knees and I’ll show you how much more there is.”

Scrambling out from under him, you flipped yourself over like a slutty little pancake, presenting your ass in front of him to feast on with his eyes. The rough pads of his fingers dug viciously into your fleshy globes, making both of you groan. “Gonna give you all of me, beautiful. Tell me you want that?” He was trying to be dirty, but the sincerity in his voice made your heart flood with honeyglow.

“I want it, tinman, I wanna be full!”

A dark, lecherous laugh rumbled behind you while he lined himself up, rubbing himself over your slit before plunging in. Stars flashed behind your eyes when he hit your deepest reaches again, making you drop to your elbows. He circled the bones of your hips with his hands, squeezing and rubbing at your waist while you adjusted to the new angle. Impatiently you clenched around him, earning yourself a stinging swat on your backside that made you squeal.

“Bad girl, you have to wait.” He growled behind you, making you whine and earning yourself another spanking that was followed by a soothing palm. “You gonna be a good girl while I breed you?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“‘Scuse me?”

“-snrt!-” You were having too much fun now, begging underneath him for friction with a roll of your hips, giggling through the cock-dumb grin on your face. “I’ll be good~”

“I know you will.” He slid forward, the angle hitting something destructive inside you, and you could tell he felt it. Memorizing your insides, he rocked forward again and again, building you up higher and higher to make you squirm. Fisting the sheets you cried when the lightning cracked up your spine, your cunt squeezing the life out of him and soaking him through. Your orgasm sucked another egg from his cock, the gentle weight sitting pretty next to the first.

“More…” you mumbled into the mattress, curving your ass up and brushing the underside of his swell. “Please…”

“You’re fucking perfect, mesh’la, so perfect for me.” His voice behind you sounded wildly different, lacking the gravelly modulation you’d grown used to, replaced with a rich baritone that tied your guts up in knots. Curiosity almost got the better of you, but before you could turn around to look at his bare face he covered your eyes, his broad palm spanning the entire width of your face. “No peeking. Be a good girl or you won’t get any more.”

He set his empty helmet down by your head, giving you something to look at if you could keep your eyes open, but his filthy cadence made your eyeballs roll back til they were gawking at your brain. Mando plowed you like his life depended on it, his fuckstick swelling inside your walls with each pass of his spend.

Reaching back, you rubbed your steadily-filling middle, the weight of his brood already making you show. Your devious digits kept going, fingertips teasing around where he melded into you, your lips stretched tightly around him. He jumped when you stuffed your hand back even further, careful not to catch on his goddamn crotchteeth to finger his cunt.

“Mesh’la!” He cried, bucking into you and pushing at least three more eggs into your womb with a single thrust. Above you he curled against your spine, his belly flattening while yours continued to swell. His arms left your hips to snake up your body, crossing between your breasts like a seatbelt and hauling you up off your elbows to his chest. Buckle up, buttercup! His sweaty pecs stuck to your spine while he kissed at the side of your neck.

You wanted so badly to look.

Instead you closed your eyes and let yourself get lost in the passionate kisses he pressed to your skin, his teeth grazing the tender flesh under your jaw. The fact that he even had lips crossed a few dozen species off of your list of possibilities, and even more when you felt the tickle of facial hair. Mando’s heated kisses tracked up your throat to nibble at your ear, his thrusting getting messy behind you.

“Can you cum for me again, beautiful? I wanna feel it.” The hand between your breasts slid up to your throat, pressing ever so gently while the second found your clit and spun devious little circles. His scruffy beard scraped your shoulder as you writhed on him, tears springing to your eyes with your crashing orgasm. “Mmph, that’s my good girl. So fucking perfect!”

His hips stuttered, slapping against your ass with a final burst, the fill of him swelling your middle to capacity, bouncing with fullness. Heavy, desperate breaths puffed against your skin as he came down from his high, caressing you with his hands and the sharp point of his chin; mumbling praises in your ear. “I didn’t think you could get any more beautiful, look at you…”

At his purring you flickered an eye open, looking down past your breasts at where you were swollen with his clutch as if you were swollen with child. His broad palms danced along the taut flesh, sliding from your precious tummy to the drops of your breasts, his hums of contentment rumbling between you. His chest and abdomen were flush with your spine, his body returned to its natural shape while yours had changed so drastically.

Between your legs his spent cock throbbed, making your combined arousal drip down onto the destroyed mattress when it softened and released. You whined from the loss, whining louder when he sneaked his fingers inside, feeling your stretched walls and musing about how wonderful you felt.

You reached forward for his helmet, handing it back to him and trying not to look at the warped reflection of his face in its sloping surfaces. He took it from you gently, letting it sink over his face so you could get off of your knees. You flopped heavily over on your butt, sitting upright and petting your full womb with a blissed out look on your face.

He laid next to you, holding you close to his body as if you were his cute little wife expecting your first baby together, and not a pair of interspecies hunters giving in to your primordial needs. You leaned against him, sighing contently and watching his serpent retreat into his body, the rows of teeth biting together and showing you why he didn’t wear codpiece with his armor.

“That’s fuckin’ weird, dude.” You laughed, brushing a fingertip along the glistening enamel.

He winced behind you. “I know, I’m sorr-”

“No, I like it.” you crooned, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. “That was fun. How often did you say this happens?”

“About once a year, but… uh… I can still get hard, without a clutch, if that’s what you’re asking?” You nodded with a laugh, curling up against his side so your full womb rested on his hip. He sighed contentedly, drawing circles on your belly with his fingers. “How does this feel? Does it hurt?”

“No, not at all, actually feels good. Feels full. I like it, I’m almost sad that it’s not gonna last.”

“Me too, you look so good like this. I could get used to it.” You hummed in agreement, shifting your legs apart so that when the eggs withered and turned to goo they could easily make their way out.

Should be any second now.

The two of you waited, laying together in post-coital bliss, just enjoying the feel of each other’s bodies, tracing scars and stars, exploring the wonders you’d kept secret from each other.

You waited.

And waited.

The minutes ticked by, at first it was a blessing, giving you time to bask in the afterglow together, but as the minutes turned to quarter hours, then halfs, you started to get worried. “Mando? I can still feel them, they’re not breaking down.”

“I’m sure they will, they always do.”

“Ok…”

They didn’t.

Hours went by, and even after waddling to the fresher shower and trying to squat them out, the eggs remained. You got washed up, half morbidly, half exuberantly watching the way the fresher water dripped from your belly while you cleaned up.

Outside the shower you toweled yourself off, taking extra steps to dry under the swell of your womb, but you struggled to reach all the way around. Mando knocked on the door politely before letting himself in, dressed only in his helmet and pants. Dutifully he took the towel from you and got to the places you couldn't reach while you were carrying his potential young.

It was surprisingly intimate, maybe even more so than being stuffed full of his length. He started on your legs, between your thighs and up to their apex, then softly wiped at your tummy and hips. His deft hands dragged the towel under each breast, then your shoulders and arms, then lastly your neck; draping the wet fabric around you like a cloak when he saw your bunching brows. You looked nervous.

“We’ll figure it out, mesh’la, I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.” He stated with determination, brushing his thumb down the curve of your cheek and turning your eyes to meet his visor. Your hair was still wet, and now so were your eyes, the first twinges of fear creeping into their corners. He didn’t like what he saw. “Close your eyes, lovely girl.”

You did, squeezing back the mist that was starting to form. He let go of you, and you heard the sound of something heavy and metallic being set down on the sink. The towel around your shoulders was lifted over your head, draping it over your face. You were about to give him hell, mad that he would want to hide your face when you were clearly getting emotional, but instead you felt the wet fabric being lifted as he joined you underneath.

Then he kissed you.

Warm, petal-soft lips pressed against your cold wet ones, suddenly surprising you before you melted into him. His kiss was as gentle as his hands that were making their way up to your jaw, holding you steady while he slotted his mouth to yours. He felt human, the edges of his teeth dull like yours, thankfully not sharp like the ones between his legs. Tasted human, too.

You kissed him back, darting your tongue out with an experimental flick, licking his plush lower lip. He inhaled sharply, caught off guard by your forwardness. His fingers coiled around the back of your head, tangling in your wet hair as his kisses grew in intensity. The smooth muscle of his mouth danced with your own, letting you both taste each other for the first time.

“Ner cyar’ika, I’ve waited so long for this.” he purred against your lips, his words heavy with adoration. He kissed you again, pulling you into himself hungrily and tickling your nose with his mustache. Your own hands came up, slowly dragging over the expanse of his chest to the sinewy length of his neck, and finally to the edge of his jaw.

“Can I touch your face, Mando? I won’t look with my eyes.” He nodded against your lips, his nose bumping the side of yours. Cautiously you wandered your fingertips along the edge of his jaw, the stiff bristles catching under your nails. He shivered with need when you scratched him, carding through his scruff like you were taming a massif.

His sharp jawline led you up his cheeks, their softness dusted with erratic bristles. You ran your thumbs under his eyes, exploring his cheekbones and the creases that bordered his large eyes. Pressing your forehead to his and pulling your lips away, you circled your thumbs down the sides of his well-defined nose to the line of hair above his lips. The creases that your hands found told you he wasn’t a young man, but he probably wasn’t too far beyond your age either.

And you imagined him to be very handsome.

It wasn’t until your hands found his ears that you remembered he wasn’t the same species as you. They were pointed, and sensitive if his little moans of pleasure were anything to go by.

“I don’t ever want you to see those, they’re ug- oh!” You cut off his self depreciation to tilt his head between your hands, pressing a kiss to each of his ears with a seductive puff of steam. “St-stop, you’re giving me goosebumps.”

“Stop being so mean to yourself, buckethead, only I can be the judge of that, and I bet they're cute!” He laughed, the sound warm and brassy, but not enough to distract you from your current predicament. “What… what are we going to do about… this.” You took each of his hands in yours and set them on your full belly, letting him caress his handiwork.

He sighed, pressing a kiss to your forehead in the dark of the towel, his lashes brushing your skin when he dropped his brow to yours. You heard his lips part with a smile, imagining the way the wrinkles around his eyes would bunch, wistfully hoping that one day you could see them for yourself.

“Mesh’la I-… I have no idea."

Next->

If you liked this fic, check out Garden of Ishtar! It's chapter 9 in a series but can be read stand-alone. Enjoy~

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[ideas-4-stories]

Apologies for the mistakes and the bother. I just have some ideas, but no one to ask opinions about it. Since the Cross Guild first appeared it took charge of my mind. Every idea is revolving around these three dysfunctional and improbable "allies." Some days ago a fan-made illustration popped up, possibly inspired by the film Red, in which Buggy's daughter was pictured. And something clicked. An idea. (I know that inserting OC is an annoyance to some, sorry, it amuses me instead.) In the trail of parallelisms and similarities, I thought: what if Buggy, like Shanks, raised and adopted a little girl? From there, a whole story unfolded.

When Buggy was still fairly young, with no large crew, not yet the crew he later made, was all the more fixated on treasures and instant riches. Still too afraid to venture out, insecure of what he could be, anchored in the East Blue, he looked for treasure maps and he found the map for the legendary Gold Island. He figured he could become the wealthiest man in East Blue and sailed there. Except he found nothing, save for a silent child.

Nearly subconsciously, mindful of what Gol D. Roger did long ago, he took her with him. Giving her a name, a name the foundling without any memory of herself hadn't. (Pierroy, after a doll found in a store on a different island, days later, stolen during a hurried escape) Years pass and Buggy's crew changes, he becomes the Genius Jester, the Flashy Clown. And Pierroy emulates him a bit, in admiration. Trusting him blindly. Adoring him, as only a daughter would. But Pierroy, Buggy realized, for he was never a fool, has something unusual. Something of value. Lots of value. Thus Buggy lets her cover an eye. Helps her dye the hair a deepest blue. Helps her disguise herself. Meanwhile, he discovers. And he holds all the research in a secret file in his cabin. On his notes he underlines "government" and "experiments" and little else painstakingly discovered.

At the same time, Pierroy grows up. Among acrobatics and circus tricks. Amid chemistry lessons and basic physics. With joy, mostly. Misfortune though always comes, and for Pierroy it's called Luffy. And his father's defeat. And the exposure of all the research he did. And odd notes. Almost as to study her (use her, Nami suggests her) and insecurity, doubt, assaults Pierroy. And when Buggy comes back it's confrontation the first thing she seeks. Misunderstandings and lack of communication, like a rebellious teenager against her parents, Pierroy abruptly vanishes overnight without even a goodbye note.

But life goes on and Buggy carries on. He occasionally search information, finds some from time to time, but ultimately convinces himself that it was for the best. A pirate ship is no place to grow up, least of all his own. And time passes and so much happens. And then, one day, news, rumor almost, of a secret execution that occurred in utter silence. The Marine, rumor says, killed a young woman with a red star eyepatch over her eye. And everything changes.

Buggy erupts into fits of rage first and grave silence later. He disappears from view. No more public appearances. No more meetings. And no threats have any effect anymore. Nothing Crocodile can do has any effect. Nothing Mihawk can say has any effect. Buggy is deaf to all. In a guilty state, he rambles at the moon. Drinking too much, eating too little. (Refusing to admit it, Mihawk and Crocodile become increasingly concerned) And with Buggy's past exposed (from the insecurities he felt as a child, what life was like before he was found, what it was after, about Shanks and Pierroy and a sea of confessions) undesirable feelings of empathy arise in Crocodile, memories that no longer want to be removed, not now they resurface. (Nightmares, he calls it. A stubborn woman died alone. A man who thought he had all the solutions for every evil, all the time. Child's eyes) And memories arise in Mihawk, too. (A large family. A kindly foolish father. A monastery and a silver sword soiled with tragedy. Devil's eye) Past and present mingle. Unspoken truths and others to be silenced again. And more that have always been lies. (Spoiler: while Buggy is mourning, there's a ship with a crew of frauds that fishes out a redheaded and gives him to the care of a weird woman, who talks to a closet from which pink feathers slide out, now and then in a fit of laughter; on their way to a circus, so they say)

I sincerely apologize for the length of the ask. I know it's not an original or outstanding idea, but could it be of any interest at least slightly? If you want, I would be very happy to receive feedback. But anyhow, I thank you so much.

Please never apologize for the length, I love reading asks and don’t worry about grammer mistakes because I ain’t the best at it either. Anyway, HOLY STARS ABOVE AND BEYOND! I do not care if it’s not original or outstanding idea, it’s definitely very interesting, don’t you worry (I have some OCs that are basically Buggy’s children all but blood, it’s not so weird)

This is so heartbreaking, noooooooooooooooooooo, I want to feel like Buggy did it so he could find away to help her with it and it goes all wrong. I don’t know, this sounds so depressing. Pierroy! Poor girl, Buggy going away from public view becuase of mourning, the marines didn’t want things to go down the same way as Ace’s execution did.

The spoiler, hopefully Pierroy is okay… right?

[acescorazon]

Changes

Chapter: 3/?

word count: 2514

Rating: M

Warnings: Crocodile , Explicit language, minor violence (slightly less than last chapter's lol.)

Chapter excerpt:

Crocodile glances around the room before looking back down at his papers, “It turns out with Buggy’s new status…” He pauses, grimacing slightly, “With the Clown’s new status, the marines won’t just come attacking us out of the blue, but these bounties will definitely be seen as a threat, possibly even a declaration of war, and we have to be prepared for when they do decide to come after us or the event of a buster call.”

A buster call?!

“W-Woah, woah, woah!” Buggy stammers, feeling the familiar sensation of dread rising in the pit of his stomach. “They…They wouldn’t do something crazy like blow up the entire island…right?” He asks, voice starting to crack a little as he speaks, “R-right?”

Mihawk speaks up, in a calm, flat tone, seemingly unworried about the possibility that the island could be wiped off the surface of the planet, “Of course they would,” he replies bluntly, “It’s only a matter of time before they try to annihilate us.”

[Previous part]

Buggy manages to avoid both Crocodile and Mihawk for about a week after the official public debut of Cross Guild, only catching brief glimpses of his ‘underlings’ out of the corner of his eye here and there around the island, before his luck comes to a rather abrupt end one morning. Crocodile calls for their first official meeting, after ordering Buggy beforehand to clear out a space for a makeshift meeting room, and even now Buggy has no idea why they even need a meeting room or to hold a meeting…

The quickest ‘meeting room’ Buggy can come up with is a storage closet filled partly with weapons that he cleared out a little and then put a table, a whiteboard, and three chairs in, and as soon as Crocodile steps foot inside the makeshift room, he sticks his nose high up in the air and sighs, “Whatever, let’s just get started,” He says, tossing an overstuffed manila folder onto the table in the middle of the room and having a seat first. Crocodile is impossible to please, and Buggy questions whether he’s an actual pirate or some kind of corrupted CEO with overly high standards.

“As briefly discussed before, our first step will be putting bounties on the Marines’ heads.” Crocodile opens up his folder, pulling out a couple of neatly stacked papers, “I’ve compiled a list of over one hundred marines, categorizing and ranking them all from highest to lowest bounties already to make things go a little faster,” He hands his papers over to Buggy, who looks at him, stunned and slightly horrified, “You make the bounty posters for them and have them distributed, but do come and see me before you distribute them, I don’t want a repeat of last weeks incident.”  

Yeah…Neither does Buggy.

Buggy looks down at the papers Crocodile just gave him, scanning over the list in utter disbelief… There are so many names here…where did he get all these from?! Vice Admiral Monkey D. Garp… Vice Admiral Tsuru….  Vice Admiral Smoker….He reads, and the list continues to grow from there. Crocodile has everyone from Vice Admirals to Captains, to lieutenants and even lowly ranking officers on his hit list, he has people Buggy didn’t even know existed on the list, and for once he’s glad he’s on Crocodile’s side and not one of his enemies.  

“Of course, I don’t expect anyone to be able to take on any admirals, or even Akainu, but you never know what’ll happen,” Crocodile states, handing over what has to be the scariest list of names Buggy’s seen so far. “Moving on, We’ll also need ships, weapons, medical supplies, and most importantly, men and land.”

Woah, woah…Buggy’s still not even over this whole marine thing, are they really just going to skip over the fact that Crocodile was able to compile a list of hundreds of marines within a week? Where did he get this kind of information? “For the time being I want anyone we can get, making these bounties and offering protection to any brave individual who’s willing to take on the marines and or make a criminal out of themselves is the quickest way to get more people on our side because as it stands we only have about two hundred and thirty-five men, and there’s no way we could withstand a possible attack from the government.”

Crocodile glances around the room before looking back down at his papers, “It turns out with Buggy’s new status…” He pauses, grimacing slightly, “With the Clown’s new status, the marines won’t just come attacking us out of the blue, but these bounties will definitely be seen as a threat, possibly even a declaration of war, and we have to be prepared for when they do decide to come after us or the event of a buster call.”

A buster call?!

“W-Woah, woah, woah!” Buggy stammers, feeling the familiar sensation of dread rising in the pit of his stomach. “They…They wouldn’t do something crazy like blow up the entire island…right?” He asks, voice starting to crack a little as he speaks, “R-right?”

Mihawk speaks up, in a calm, flat tone, seemingly unworried about the possibility that the island could be wiped off the surface of the planet, “Of course they would,” he replies bluntly, “It’s only a matter of time before they try to annihilate us.”

Crocodile, who seems equally as unbothered by the idea of a buster call, simply nods, “Exactly, which is why we need more men and land. These bounties will give us men, power, and higher status, but obviously, it’ll come with consequences. There will be a lot of injuries, deaths, and overall destruction by doing this.”

“So why are we doing it?!” Buggy exclaims, “This seems…”

“We can’t live in the world government’s world, can we?” Crocodile asks, still acting a little too nonchalant for Buggy’s liking, “So we’re going to create our own utopia.”

What the fuck does that even mean…?  

Oh, god. They’re going to die. They’re going to be blown to pieces and if they aren’t, they’re going to be executed in front of millions just like…

God, Buggy can’t do this. He can’t handle the idea of his home being blown up, or having to go back to Impel down, or, or being publicly executed. He-

He can’t just leave Cross Guild, Mihawk and Crocodile will kill him. But…remaining in Cross Guild will also get him killed. He’s really going to die. Any path Buggy chooses in life seems like it’ll lead to certain death, and he’s exhausted, he feels like he’s the one with a hit on his head. Buggy thinks back to when he was just a small-time pirate and finds himself missing those days where no one knew who he was or about his past. Back then he could run around freely without worrying about his men or his home being destroyed, but now even if he tried to run away from all his problems, there’s nowhere for him to hide.

God, he’s actually going to die.

There are tears in Buggy’s eyes as Crocodile rises from his seat, pulling out a photo before pinning it to the whiteboard in the room, “We can discuss ancient weapons in the next meeting, but for now let’s move on to land. In the event of a buster call, we’ll immediately have to get off the island and relocate. Now, I’ve picked a few islands out, but this one right here is the most interesting and closest, boys.” He points to the picture on the board, “This is Prickly Pear island, a spacious desert kingdom with a tyrannical king who’s starving his people and hoarding most of the country's wealth and resources. It’s easy pickings, we don’t even have to turn the people against their king, we just show up and ‘save’ all the citizens, and take over.” He grins.   

God, Buggy doesn’t want Emptee Bluffs Island to be blown up and he doesn’t want to live in the desert with Crocodile where he’s practically invincible, he just wants this nightmare to end...He just wishes he were still a warlord, no.. no, he wishes he were just a lowly pirate in Orange Town.  

God, he hates his life so much.

…

Their meeting lasts a lot longer than Buggy would have hoped it would, and he could hardly keep up with all Crocodile’s plans because, you know, there’s that new silly possibility of the world government blowing them to kingdom come… ahaha, so silly. Anyways once the meeting is over, he quickly gets the hell away from Crocodile and Mihawk as fast as possible and looks for men who can make the bounties for the marines because Buggy sure as shit isn’t going to do it himself, though he doesn’t know if they should really be doing this in the first place...

Whatever. Whatever, it’s too late.

Buggy counted one hundred and seventy-five different marines on Crocodile’s list, and the worst part: Crocodile says he’s actively trying to find out more names, and they’re…They’re fucking doomed. At this point, Buggy just has to pick which way he wants to die, and to be honest… He’d rather die by the Marines' hands than Crocodile’s.  

He finds himself anxiously roaming around and just… taking in the view of his island and all the men at work. Even with Mihawk and Crocodile around, Emptee Bluffs Island is bustling and filled with life, and to think that all that could be taken away in a moment's notice just because of Crocodile’s stupid pla--

“Hey, Clown.” God, what now?  Buggy thinks to himself, hating the way that Crocodile can’t be bothered to use his actual name most of the time. “I forgot to tell you that I want a main ship built right away.”

Buggy sighs, turning around to face his tormentor, ”But my men are already busy trying to fix the ships the marines didn’t completely destroy.”

“And? Find someone to build me a flagship, and make it quick.”

So bossy and annoying… Buggy closes his eyes and sucks in a deep breath, trying to remain calm. If he lets his pride and his ego get the best of him right now, he’s going to lose his life. For once in his life, he should just shut up… But the urge to tell Crocodile to go to hell is so strong…Crocodile’s so demanding, and Buggy… just wants to…

“Yes.” He replies a moment later, not wanting to get on Crocodile’s bad side again, he’s had enough of that for a lifetime. “Sure. I’ll get right on that.” He tries to end the conversation there and walk away, but Crocodile stops him, “One last thing, clown, about your appearance…”

After Crocodile has threatened to sell him into slavery, beat him senseless, took over his island, and gave him the world’s most unreasonable requests and expected him to fulfill everything in such a short amount of time, why was the straw that broke the camel's back Crocodile criticizing his appearance? “I don’t want Cross Guild to be seen as a joke. Get rid of the onesie and the annoying red nose.”

Get rid of the annoying red nose…

He told him to…He told him to…. Buggy stares at Crocodile, speechless, he feels like saying something he might regret, but it’ll get him killed. He wants to live… this whole time he’s been fighting for his life…and to throw it away so carelessly… “Understand?” Crocodile asks with a displeased look now on his face, not that Buggy knows why he’s looking at him like that.

Get rid of the annoying red nose.

This altercation marks the first (and last) time Buggy tells Crocodile to, “Eat shit and die.” and things go as well as one would expect them to as soon as the insult leaves his mouth. He really should have kept his big mouth shut, but he didn’t, and instantly ends up regretting his actions, like always.

Crocodile chases Buggy all around the island, face red and filled with rage as he screams every cuss word imaginable at Buggy, and Buggy runs away like he owes Crocodile money, which, coincidentally, he does. “I’msosorry,” He babbles out, and the phrase ‘I’m sorry’ has to be his favorite phrase considering how often he uses it these days, “I didn’t mean to…” Oh, who is he kidding? He met everything he said, but he doesn’t think he should get murdered for his words alone.

Buggy runs past a few of his beloved crew members: Cabaji, Mohji and Richie, and finally, Alvida, but no one seems interested in helping him out. They all watch as he runs by, looking confused, then horrified, then once realization finally sets in, they simply look the other way. Cowards! All of em are cowards, and they have absolutely no loyalty!  

Crocodile does end up capturing Buggy though, he’s incredibly stubborn and that is yet another thing that Buggy has come to find out about his new business partner. He also really hates being insulted, go figure, and ends up punching the shit out of Buggy’s poor face, again, leaving welts all over him as he so graciously reminds Buggy that he can gut him like a fish at any moment if he wanted to and that he’s lucky to be alive.

Buggy begs for mercy the entire time, but that only seems to anger Crocodile more and he calls him…What was it…? Oh, that’s right, he calls him ‘A worthless coward who should have never been made an emperor’, and then proceeds to tell him how much he hates him.

He makes Buggy feel so good about himself…haha…

They never come to an agreement, Crocodile just grows tired of kicking Buggy’s ass and leaves, and Buggy winds up filled with more hatred than before for Crocodile, picking himself and his teeth up off the ground after his beating, skull still throbbing from Crocodile’s wrath. Okay, maybe he deserved that ass-kicking, but he still thinks Crocodile went a little too far… Nevertheless, Buggy continues on with his day, now instructing some of his crew who are shipwrights to build Crocodile his stupid ship for stupid Cross Guild, hoping that for once his crew will do something half-assed and that the ship will end up sinking or capsizing when Crocodile (and hopefully only Crocodile.) is onboard.

((A/N: Redeeming this fucker (Crocodile) is going to be a BITCH. Trust in me and the process, we'll get to where we need to go though. Thanks for reading, i love you pookies~! ALSO P.S ...Think the next few chapters might have depressed Buggy sooo.. BUT TRUST IN THE PROCESS BABIES.))

[pascalpanic]

request please? lately i have been having a lot abandonment anxiety when it comes to friendships and i was wondering how you think javi or din might help someone with an anxious attachment style? thank you lovely 🥰

Irrational (Din Djarin x f!Reader)

Summary: above ^^

W/C: 2.8k

Warnings: language; talk of fighting and weapons, reader has a panic attack PLEASE be aware that it’s coming and somewhat descriptive.

A/N: I really really love this! I hope you guys do too :) as always, thanks to my beta reading babes!

Din Djarin has been abandoned before. Often on a mission, sometimes on a lone planet with no credits or ways out. He always survives, of course, and vengeance is taken. One thing he absolutely can’t fathom is abandoning someone he loves, or more specifically someone who loves him.

Abandonment isn’t an issue when you’ve never had someone to be attached to. Din spent many many years with absolutely no one. When his parents died, it felt like he was abandoned, sure, but it was clearly not their decision to leave him. When he was taken in by the Mandalorians, they kept him at an arm’s length. He was a foundling; they cared for him well, taught him The Way and The Creed, fed him well. But he was never adopted into a specific clan, rather passed around the covert like the communal task each family had an obligation to fulfill.

Then he became a bounty hunter. The life was solitary and lonely, cold and bleak. It was rare that Din would team up with other bounty hunters, really only when forced to. The Razor Crest became his baby, his only possession and love besides his blasters and beskar. The thing was a piece of bantha shit, but he kept it in good shape.

Then came the kid. Din knew it was wrong. Bounties are to be turned in and paid for, then you forget the job happened. But when that little green thing stared up at Din, the big brown eyes seeming to stare through the dark black of his visor, he knew he couldn’t. This was a child, a baby with no family and no way to protect itself. He certainly couldn’t turn it over to the hands of the ex-Imperials.

Din experienced his first real attachment with the child. He cares for that little thing more than he’s ever cared about anything. He’d cross galaxies, kill and maim and injure for the sake of the little green baby.

Oh Maker, then he met you.

Din had never seen anything like you. You were playing with the kids in the marketplace, laughing as they ran and played around you, before you squealed in delight at the sight of a little green toddler wandering up to you. He’d climbed in your lap, looked up at you with those big eyes, massive ears twitching. You’d stroked his head and cooed to him before you looked up to find his father; subsequently, you felt your heart fall into your stomach at the sight of the Mandalorian man.

“You’re good with kids.”

Well no shit. You nodded. “Yes. I love them. Is this your son?” you ask, looking back down at the three green fingers wrapped around your thumb.

He nods. “He is a foundling under my care.” He watched as the baby grabbed at the golden armband encircling your bicep. You’re absolutely gorgeous. The armband glows against your skin, your beautiful body evident even through the loose and flowing clothing you wear. “Do you take care of these children as a job?”

You shook your head. “No. We don’t have jobs here, necessarily. They just wanted me to play.” You scanned the man, searching for skin. You found none. “Are you green under there too?”

The Mandalorian did not answer. “I’m looking for a caretaker for the child while I hunt bounties. You’d stay in my ship and care for him. I pay well and you’d get to travel the galaxy.”

“You barely know me,” you laughed, removing the little green baby’s fingers from their tight grip on the gold band on your arm.

He gave a half shrug. “He likes you.”

And you’d agreed. And it’s been almost a full cycle now, a cycle of living in the beat-up ship and caring for the little green baby. You’ve seen the most beautiful and the ugliest of planets, experienced extreme heat and extreme cold. You’ve been to beautiful cities, unique jungles and forests and ice planets.

In that time, you got to know the Mandalorian too. It took quite some time to crack his beskar shell. He hardly talked to you in the first month. Then your persistence had loosened him a little, then a little more, then just enough. You know more of him than any other living being does. He’s told you his name: Din Djarin, a name that flows and stops and radiates the power of the bounty hunter. He told you the story of his childhood, of hunts gone wrong and hunts gone right.

You love listening as he tells you and the child the story of the child’s rescue from the ex-Imperials. The baby snuggles against your lap as his father regales the two of you with the epic battles, the fights Din went through for this little child. You both applaud at the end, and put the baby to bed with a kiss between those big brown eyes.

He’s a wonderful man. You’ve formed an easy friendship with him, one that has honestly progressed on your end. At night, you find yourself fantasizing about what he looks like beneath his armor, how the muscles of his broad shoulders move when he climbs the ladder to the cockpit or lifts the child. You like to think he may feel the same for you, but you don’t push it. You don’t want to push him away.

Din has been away for far too long. He always highballs the dates he gives you, saying that an assignment will take three days when he knows it will only take two or a week when it will only be five days. This is a pattern you’ve come to notice; Din is alway back “early”, but now he is late. Really late.

Before he left, Din had opened your bunk compartment, causing you to groan at the light filtering in. You’ve been sleeping since the Crest made a rocky landing on Nevarro a few hours earlier. “Cyare,” he’d murmured, a rare ungloved hand warm on your bare arm, contact broken by your metal armband. You don’t know what the word means. You hope it’s something good.

“What is it?” You groaned, rolling onto your back to look at him. “Leaving?”

He nodded, the silhouette of his helmet-covered head against the soft light of the hull. “Leaving. I’ll be back in four days at the most.”

You offered him a sleepy smile, one that he could see in the warm glow of the lights you’d installed in the ship to navigate easier at night. “Good luck. May the Force be with you,” you teased, making the normally stoic man chuckle a little.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll see you soon.”

You didn’t protest, rolling over and letting the heaviness of sleep drag you back under.

Now, you really wish you’d have talked with him more then. You’re almost certain you’ll never see him again.

You’re not exactly sure what it was in your brain that triggered the thought. Maybe Din just actually took the amount of time he’d said for once, you thought on the fourth day. But now it’s been eight days, double the amount that he’d told you he’d be gone, and you’re stressed.

He always makes good on his word. He should be back by now. He always does. Did he get injured or killed, maybe captured by the bounty he was stalking? You ponder your ideas aloud as you pace back and forth in the hull of the Razor Crest, the little green baby tucked in his soundproof pram to sleep.

There’s likely a rational explanation. You’re sure there is. Maybe the bounty jumped ship, completely threw Din off of his tracks. Maybe the bounty is more clever than anticipated and Din is working extra just to find them. There’s surely a reason, but a little nagging voice in your head says that something is wrong.

In the first few days following Din’s date to return, your primary worry is that he’s hurt or dead somewhere on this barren planet. There are many other bounty hunters here, in this haven for Guild workers. What if one of them discovered Din still has the baby? What if they were coming for you here next?

Maybe you should go look for him. Maybe he’s injured and needs your help. He could be held by another hunter, or by the ex-Imperials- you can’t even bear to think of them harming Din for taking their precious cargo back. The thought makes you squeeze the little green baby tighter to your chest, even after he gives a whine of annoyance at the pressure.

But Din would never forgive you if you put yourself in harm’s way for him. This planet is dangerous, full of bad people who will do what it takes to get their credits. Most importantly, you can’t leave this ship with the kid. Certainly people here are looking for him. Someone would spot him and you’d be in for disaster. The anxiety fills your days and even seeps into your dreams, making you sleep less and more fitfully. On the eighth day, perhaps the most terrifying idea strikes you: what if Din just... left you?

Of course, there are plenty of signs why he hasn’t. The ship is one of his rare material possessions. He’d never give up the machine that’s been a home to him for the last however many years. Weapons are part of his religion, and he only took a sparse amount with him for this hunt. His prized pulse rifle still hangs in his armory, with an abundance of whistling birds he didn’t take either.

Most importantly, you’re still here with the kid. The baby is practically Din’s son. He adores him… but what if it’s all too much? You’ve become like a little family. That may be too domestic for him. Maybe he’s sick of the responsibility, of caring for two beings when so much of his life has been solitary. Even worse, maybe he’s just sick of you.

There are plenty of rational explanations. You know it. The baby can sense your anxiety, can feel the tension running through the air surrounding you, and he feels it too. He’s fussy, requiring more snacks and more attention. He tugs far too much on your armband and it pinches now, his little claws getting too long. You don’t mind- it’s a distraction, really- but your mind is never fully on feeding the baby, rather hyper analyzing Din’s mind as you know it and hoping he’ll return.

The hours pass. Din doesn’t return. You become more and more certain that he’s abandoned you for good. He isn’t coming back, ever, because he hates you. He was nice to you as a courtesy, nothing more, only as a protector of his child. This type of family is too much for the lone-wolf style man. He can’t do it anymore. You’re on your own.

In your head, the thought of him abandoning you is too much. It weighs heavily on your self-esteem, convincing you that this is all your fault and you’ve done too much, or not enough, or something wrong in general that sent Din packing and gone. He did it because you’re annoying, because he’s sick of you.

Rational thoughts are pushed to the furthest corner of your mind. Your brain is occupied by self hatred, by terror, by a sickening buzzing feeling in your head and chest that feels like a parasite eating you from the inside out.

It’s too much. You fall to the floor, sliding your back down the metal wall. Your rear contacts the floor as the tears fall from your face, your emotions drowning out your senses. You can’t use any of your senses, just think and process the agony your brain is putting you through.

Burying your face in your hands, you finally allow the tears you’ve been holding in all week to flow. It’s a relief, the hot tears streaming down your equally hot face, blood rushing to the surface. The anxiety buzzing in your head has reached a breaking point; you’re sure the tension is boiling your brains, making it bubble and roil as the thoughts pull you down and down so far you feel you’ve fallen through the floor of the Crest and into the dry Nevarro dirt.

You nearly wail, wheezing in air only to expel it in harsh sobs as the fear wraps your body and constricts it. You’re enveloped by it, trapped in a coffin mixed with a tornado mixed with a firestorm and a hurricane.

Then it all stops. The heat is broken by something cold- beskar. You force your eyes to see and they finally perceive that Din is in front of you. Then you feel again, feel the chilled metal all over your skin as he wraps his arms around you. You smell him, his faded soap from whenever he bathed last, his sweat and the smell of the Nevarro dust. You can taste your salty tears. The last sense to come back puts you most at ease: his voice. “Talk to me, please,” Din asks of you.

You nod and try to speak, but you’re still gasping for air, your lungs unable to fill. When you slow down and make yourself breathe, you’re finally able to manage words. “Thought you were gone forever. Thought you left because of me.”

The beskar helmet tilts to the side, taking you in. You’re sure you’re a mess; eyes bloodshot, face tearstained, snot probably all over you as well. Din’s quiet for a moment. “Why would you think that?”

“You said four days. You always come back early, but you were gone for eight days.”

His chest rises and falls slowly beneath the beskar plate. “I know. I’m sorry. But why would you think I’d leave you?”

The tears return. “I don’t know, Din, I-”

“No, shh,” Din murmurs and wipes your face. “No more tears. I’m here.”

Din stands and takes you with him, his arms wrapped tight around your body to bring you to your feet. He walks you to the edge of the bunk and hands you a canteen of water to drink. You look at him and he looks back. There’s a silence and an unspoken battle between the two of you over who will break it.

Din breaks first. “I got the bounty easily. I was late because of… something else.”

Your face falls into a frown. “You took double the amount of time and didn’t tell me? Whatever this ‘something else’ is, it better be worth it.”

Din breathes in and out deeply before producing a soft fabric bag. “I didn’t leave you. I’m back. And… I got you something to show that I’ll never leave you.”

From the bag, his leather-covered hand produces something silver. Your eyes, blurry with tears, take a moment to perceive it: an armband of some silver material- oh, it’s beskar. It’s cold to the touch but you take it from him to admire it and find it is emblazoned with an insignia: a mudhorn. “The symbol of Clan Djarin,” he says gently, though he’s sure you know. It’s on his pauldron. It’s on the baby’s necklace. “We… are a family, aren’t we?”

You don’t respond; rather, you throw your arms around his neck and the tears return, but happily. “We are,” you whimper, your throat constricted by a sob. You cry into his neck, staining the fabric of his cowl and cape with your tears.

He understands they’re good tears, and so he lets them flow. His arms wrap around you and rest on your back, gently rubbing it as you cry into him. As the sobs calm, the tears end, you remain in his arms. Din holds you tight against his chest. “I’ve never made a better decision than hiring you. It was supposed to just be a babysitting job, but… I fell in love.”

Your heart stops and you pull back. “You’re in love? With me?”

Din nods. “I… yes. I am.”

A smile crosses your face, the joy emphasized by how wide your smile is in the presence of your tears. “I love you too,” you manage before your throat squeezes off your words, making you cry happily and hug him yet again.

With your face buried in his neck, you nuzzle your face in and are rewarded with a soft patch of stubbled skin beneath the tip of your nose. You can feel his throat vibrate when he speaks again. “We are a clan of three now. I promise you, I will never leave you. Don’t even entertain the thought again. Understand?”

You nod, not wanting to move your face and lose contact with this intimate spot of him, the first humanness you’ve been able to get beneath the beskar. You kiss the skin there softly. Din knows it’s your answer: understood. I love you.

-

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[dragons-bones]

FFXIV: A Spark of Knowledge

#FebHyurary 2022 Day 11 + 12: Begin & Tomorrow

A/N: While trying to catch up for day 11, realized that thematically speaking, this fit for day 12, too, so yay. :D

Timeline note: set post-Endwalker.

RATING: G WORD COUNT: 922

--

Synnove brushed a speck of lint off her assessor’s robes. It had been a long time she had last worn them—as Vice Chair of the Arcanists’ Guild Aetherophysics Department, she wasn’t expected to work the ships coming into port, unless an emergency necessitated all hands, and if that was happening, no one gave a rat’s ass for proper uniforms—but for an event like this, they made the best impression. There would be no denying she was Lominsan, not Sharlayan.

From the other side of the doors, she heard her name announced, and the applause of the gathered audience. She took a deep breath to steady any lingering nerves, and nodded to Alphinaud. He grinned at her, depressed the handle, and pulled it open for her, stepping back to ensure he couldn’t be seen by anyone in the hall. “How would Rereha put it?” he whispered conspiratorially. “Knock ‘em dead?”

She fought back the urge to snicker, and gave him a wink as she walked out into the auditorium.

The Studium had many lectures halls, but the primary auditorium at its heart was reserved for special assemblies—graduation the foremost among them—and could seat the entire faculty and student body, plus family and assorted other officials. Today, the room was fit to burst, every seat filled and people lining the walls and sitting on the recessed steps leading up and back out to the exits. The Lominsan official in her eyed the size of the crowd and muttered about fire hazards, but the scholarch had assured her the room was filled with emergency teleportation magicks in case of disasters.

Well, she had insisted to Montichaigne that if he wanted her to do a special presentation on arcanima, it was going to be open to anyone, not just the Studium, and Sharlayan was home to many academies and colleges.

The scholarch smiled and bowed to her as she walked onto the stage, moving aside, and Synnove squared her shoulders as she reached the center and pivoted to face the audience, the applause quieting as the audience focused their attention upon her. They had set up a desk for her, for her grimoires, and an enormous slate chalkboard behind that; for the moment, she leaned back against the desk, crossing her arms in front of herself as she looked out at the crowd.

A flicker of movement in the upper balcony caught her eye, and she tilted her head just enough to see Alphinaud slide into his seat in the front row, between Alisaie and Urianger, having no doubt run up the stairs three at a time to get there so quickly. The rest of the Scions—even Estinien, who normally wasn’t one for high theory, and her sisters, who had been listening to her ramble about arcanima for seventeen years now—were arrayed around them to fill out the rest of the row. Even at this distance, Alisaie and Rereha giving two thumbs apiece was visible, and she mentally grinned.

“Can anyone tell me,” Synnove said, never one for pithy courtesies like hello and my name is, especially when all assembled knew exactly who she was, “what the most important thing you need is for a carbuncle?”

The auditorium’s acoustics were wonderful; she barely had to raise her voice for it to carry clear as crystal. The rustling of clothes and the low murmuring of voices was her immediate answer, her audience apparently not expecting to be thrown right into the presentation. Finally, someone far enough back that she couldn’t see who spoke called out: “A gemstone!”

“Close, but not quite,” Synnove drawled. “Do not help, Alphinaud.”

Laughter rang out as the young elezen in question gave a theatrical sigh and shrug.

“Living aether,” a young Hellsguard lass in the third row, in the colors of one of the other academies, said suddenly.

Synnove smiled, and canted her head towards the girl. “Exactly right,” she said.

Behind her, one of the pieces of chalk that had been laying on the desk began to float upward, and move towards the board. As the faint sound of chalk-on-slate echoed, another low murmur ran through the crowd.

(Normally, she wasn’t one for such displays, but a bit of showmanship never went awry, as Montichaigne had so aptly demonstrated not all that long ago now. And practicing her fine control as she recovered from her aether shock in the aftermath of the Final Days had been one of the few things she had been capable of.)

Synnove pushed off the desk, and as she used her aether to write the equation that was the foundation of her artificial intelligence array, she began to pace along the length of the stage. “It’s only when living aether coalesces around a gemstone of sufficient aetheric resonance that a carbuncle may be summoned. But what is living aether, precisely? All things have aether, living and not, so what is that extra spark that makes a gemstone a catalyst for creation? And what happens when we push the boundaries of what living aether is capable of manifesting?”

Galette tumbled into existence, shouts of surprise and appreciative coos filling the auditorium as she leaped from the floor, to the desk, to Synnove’s shoulder, draping herself around her summoner’s neck with an imperious sniff.

The Highlander smiled and reached up to scritch behind the emerald carbuncle’s ear, eliciting that familiar comforting windchime purr. Her voice just above a thoughtful murmur, she said, “You get something a bit more than just a familiar.”