Mihawk and the Red Haired Pirates
-Look I don't know what to tell you, Mihawk's epithet is literally Hawkeyes meaning he is world-renowned for his eyesight meaning that he'd probably make a good sharpshooter. And maybe Yasopp decides to test this theory with a little friendly competition. And after giving Mihawk a quick intro into how guns work, maybe Yasopp had to pull out every trick there is in the book to narrowly avoid losing to said Hawkeyes, who as it turns out is indeed very good at hitting targets and who had literally just learned how to cock a gun not even 30 minutes ago. But who's to say what actually happened, the day of November 25th at 2:35pm? Certainly not Yasopp, the record clearly shows he is undefeated.
-Once a year Ben and Mihawk go on a little trip just the two of them. They act like it's just so they can shit-talk Shanks but actually, they just go fishing somewhere in the middle of the ocean and drink horribly overpriced and fancy alcohol. Look Benn loves his crew, and would die for them but also if he doesn't get at least a week to himself once every year he'd kill them all himself. He deserves nice things and a little peace and fucking quiet and not being constantly inundated with the whims of a man child and Mihawk's the closest he's ever gonna get to a friend with taste, and he travels alone with a bunch of fancy wine. Sue the man. Mihawk who would rather nap is fine to let someone else sail his overgrown raft against the annoyingly ever-changing grandline for a week or two.
-Wouldn't it be cute if Mihawk learned a lot of his fancier cooking techniques from Roux? Like he knew how to cook to survive but watching Roux is how he learned to like properly dice vegetables and that eating fish prepared the same way three times a day is not infact a life he would like to lead. This was of course less cute to Lucky Roux who in the beginning had no clue what was happening and only felt the weight of Mihawk's otherworldly stare on the back of his neck as he handled knives. (he defiantly for at least a little bit, thought Mihawk had a knife fetish. which, he's not entirely wrong)
-To Building Snake (who I just learned is the RHP's navigator) Mihawk might as well be a modern-day miracle. In his eyes, Mihawk's sailing is proof that god exists, because only divine intervention can explain how this man ever gets anywhere never mind on time or early even. Building Snake is pretty sure he owns neither a map nor a log pose and he has never actually seen the sails of Mihawk's pretend ship unfurled or in use. Actually, he has never seen Mihawk do anything but sit menacingly on the throne in the middle of the boat, which why? If you think about it for even a second longer that 2 minutes how Mihawk "sails" anywhere breaks every law of physics and somehow even the concept of geography. Building Snake would like to dissect him and study him under a microscope but knows the boss would disapprove.
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STOP normalizing the grind and START normalizing going and doing the things which the Lord hath commanded; for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he comma
i regret to inform you that the original context of this quote probably did involve a significant amount of The Grind. like in that specific instance of needing to go bribe, swindle, and murder his way to acquiring them plates, nephi was probably very much a friend of hustle culture.
which is to say.........when normalizing the grind...........do not forget. the crime
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When I tell you this S.O.B has me in a chokehold.
Lore below, cause I can't make little guys without giving them sad backstories.
Content warning, reader discretion is advised.
His name is Midos, no last name for as a demon born on the lowest end of the hierarchy he's no more than a slave and whore.
Anger takes hold early and festers until he becomes bitter and volatile until the day he murders he higher demon who brought him. He flees the scene but with the visual differenece in status and not a single thing to call his own he has nowhere to go and soon ends up forced into the House of General Sarius Mordisius against his will.
General Sarius has the reputation of being one of hells crulest generals and takes great pride in the title.
Though trapped and bound to a new master Midos refuses to hide fury any longer an threatens to murder Sarius like he did his former master, should he lay a finger on him. Sarius is instantly facinated, not only for the gall it takes to speak against a General, but also the intoxicating fire in his eyes that speaks for how serious he is.
Sarius doesn't touch him, but he does take full advantage of his status as a slave and quickly makes Midos his own personal one, forced to follow him everywhere and follow his every petty whim.
It all changes when another higher demon does try to force themselves on Midos.
Midos manages to fight them off long enough for Sarius to find out what's happeneing and interfere. The higher demon tries to protest his innocence, as Midos is no more than a slave. Before the demon has finished speaking Sarius kills them outright, creating a bloody mess before a drags Midos back home.
After that they slowly grow closer until Midos climbs the social ladder, despite his place in the hirearchy, and soon becomes Sarious' favorite concubine, a title he defends with bloody hands and fangs. He never loses his fire and anger, but Sarius makes it bearable.
Sarius never lays a finger on him until Midos asks for it and eventually he is only his concubine by status, and lover and equal when they are alone.
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Last line tag!
Thanks @tildeathiwillwrite ! I actually got a really sweet scene written on one of my side WIPs last night so I'm gonna share the whole thing instead of just one line 😁
“Don’t act like you think I'm safe for you,” he hissed. “I’m a weapon. A killer. You know what these hands are capable of!”
Maria grabbed his hands. Hands that could kill her. Hands that could strangle the life right out of her. She lifted them and placed them around her neck, thumbs pressed against her throat.
The muscles in his hands twitched and tightened against her neck. She stared him right in the eyes. He was nearly trembling, his breathing shaky. His dark eyes begged her to pull away, to run from him. She didn't. She never would.
She didn't need to.
“Yes, I know what you're capable of,” she whispered. “And I know you won't do it.”
His grip tightened on her throat, but she didn't flinch. She stared at him, until he released his grip with a sharp exhale. And she smiled.
“So give me your hands. I'll teach them to love instead of kill.”
She took his hands again, this time pulling them up to cradle her face. She leaned into them, pressing kisses into his palms.
Tagging: @late-to-the-fandom @agirlandherquill @themswritinwords @stargazer-luna and open tag!
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Water 7 and Enies Lobby happen but that scene in which Usopp is plotting to go back to the crew doesn't happen. Sanji finds Usopp staring at the sunset and the beach and wondering what he's going to do next exactly. Elbaf, yes, but he needs to plan so many things before sailing on his own. And Sanji just-- They haven't confessed or anything. And Sanji doubts Usopp loves him back that way. But what they've been through has made him realize he's in love with him. Which, you know, fucking sucks because he's leaving and Sanji can't do anything about it.
And,,, I'm just thinking,,, About Usopp actually leaving. And Sanji going with him. Usopp claims that he doesn't need somebody to protect him. That he's going on his own for that reason. He needs to do this on his own. But Sanji insists and says that that's what a first mate is for. The he isn't doing this because Luffy told him. Or anyone, really. Actually, this is something really impulsive and he doesn't think it's the best idea but it's what he wants to do. The Strawhtats are his home, yes, but he has realized that Usopp is the flame that keeps him warm. He doesn't feel so out of place and uneasy when Usopp is around. He doesn't think he'll be able to handle it without him. "I'm not doing it for you" is what he ends up saying. And fuck, okay, Usopp just has to accept. Excited. Happy. In love.
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Just a little successor to this piece by @brinkofdiscovery! Just thinking about how Miguel and Mariano's relationship evolves with therapy :)
TWs: Mentions of trauma
Dark fingers wound into Miguel's shirt as Mariano's face pressed into his shoulder with a dream-fueled mumble. Lying on his side and breathing slow, he'd been asleep for a little while now. His hair was up, the blankets were tugged up to their waists, and one leg was hooked around Miguel's.
There was no tension in the loose relaxation of his limbs. There were no lines on his face. He breathed Miguel in with every inhale and soaked in their shared warmth as the winter chill managed to seep into even the war mages' shared home.
This wouldn't have happened even a few months ago.
Miguel had still felt dangerous, then. The feeling of being loomed over would activate old survival instincts. Passing headlights that danced along the walls would wake him, heart hammering but breathing habitually still slow and deep.
Their therapist had suggested ways to start working through it, though. Wearing Miguel's shirts to bed or borrowing his pillowcases, to start associating him with safety and rest. Lying down together in a bed during the day, and getting used to being close in that environment. Miguel taking a nap next to Mariano during one of those midday lie-downs. Miguel holding Mariano, with his hands on the fragile skin of his sides and his arms keeping him in place.
It had helped.
Mariano even managed to doze off on Miguel's shoulder during a movie night at the end of a long week. He hadn't meant to, he'd just been leaning up against him. Miguel's shoulder had been soft and comfortable and the perfect height to use as a pillow. When he'd blinked awake again, Miguel was carefully staying as still as possible and his voice had been tense and thick with emotion when he dismissed Mariano's resulting apology.
The next time they'd laid down together to cuddle during an afternoon, they'd both fallen asleep.
Mariano hadn't slept on his back with his hands folded at his chest in ages--or at least not when he and Miguel shared a bed. Now, instead, he draped himself over Miguel. He tugged himself closer, and clung to him, and frowned if Miguel needed to untangle himself to get up for any reason. It was like he couldn't get enough of Miguel. Like he was making up for lost time.
When Miguel's arm tightened around Mariano's waist, he sighed and smiled without waking. Muscles that weren't tense in the first place relaxed further. His dreams weren't filled with looming, piercing eyes or the threat of an agonizing, unstoppable death. They were filled with the smell of Miguel's body wash and how his laugh sounded.
It had taken work from both of them, but now Miguel made Mariano feel safe.
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