#i have been contemplating. marinating.

[sichore]

Dr Zayne has two hands (for his orange-cat energy MC and Doberman bf Sylus)

[sanjisleggy]

the warlord’s wife (mihawk x reader)

req: Oh if you want to you should do a Mihawk x reader (fem or gn) that's hurt comfort where the reader is like the exact opposite of him. Like she is usually so happy and sweet and kind. And something happens and maybe she starts to worry that she is too much for Mihawk because he is just someone who is quiet and to himself all the time and she thinks she is constantly bothering him

a/n: ahhh my first attempt at writing for Mihawk! a much shorter fic compared to my others but i hope you guys like it nonetheless :3c i’d love to write longer fics for him if anyone has any ideas yippee

contents: rude people (lol), insecure!fem!reader, simp!Mihawk, a tiny bit of angst, some hurt/comfort, fluff :3c

wc. 1k

wanna be on my taglist?

—

i. 

standing outside the large ornate doors, you feel your face burn with embarrassment as you contemplate simply going to the docks to wait out by the hitsugibune until the gala ends. as tempting as escaping from the horrific social situation sounds right now, your pride refuses to let you bow your head in defeat.

”i don’t know how else to convince you,” you try to appeal to the two marines standing guard outside the venue entrance once more, “if you could just ask him to verify my identity—”

”i’m sorry, miss,” the larger man of the two cuts you off with a less than apologetic look. “there’s just no reason why we should do as you say. if we listened to every man or woman demanding to go in, we’d lose our heads.”

your indignance and frustration quickly bubbles into pure anger and for a brief moment you lament having left your katana back at the castle. you bite your tongue, unable to think of any other way to convince the marine officers that you are, indeed, a guest who’d been invited to the gala because you’re literally one of the Warlords’ wives.

“besides,” the other officer chips in unprompted, “no offence but you don’t seem like the type of woman someone like Dracule Mihawk would marry.” his partner fails to hold back a scoff but quickly attempts to return his expression back into one of neutral professionalism.

clenching your fists by your sides, you try your very hardest to keep your eyes from tearing up for the second time tonight. normally such a comment wouldn’t phase you—years of being Mihawk’s partner has done wonders for thickening your skin—right now, though, you can’t help but feel a familiar sharp stinging sensation pierce through your chest.

of all the snarky comments you marine dogs decide to make, why this one?

ii.

it had only been an hour into the gala and already you regretted begging your husband, just weeks prior, to consider attending with you as his guest. the event was a grand one held by the marines every year to “show their appreciation” towards their allies, which included the Seven Warlords; and every year the invite would show up at your doorstep only to be promptly thrown out by your introverted husband.

”can we please go? i miss going for social events like these.” you’d pleaded that night in bed, hugging his arm tightly as you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck—a move he liked to call ‘playing dirty. “just this once to see what it’s like, then i’ll never ask again.”

both you and Mihawk knew it was a lie but the swordsman was nothing if not a simp for you so he begrudgingly agreed.

”care to elaborate why?” you challenge, taking the two marines aback if their surprised expressions are anything to go by. clearly not used to ‘civilians’ talking back to them, they take a moment to gather their thoughts—and at least have enough decency to look embarrassed at being called out.

”w-well—”

“your wife is such a chatterbox! it’s a wonder you’ve tolerated her for as long as you have!”

”your husband is whom? forgive me, i find that hard to believe.”

”i thought he was some kind of recluse?”

”maybe it was an arranged marriage. how scandalous.”

”i pity the poor man. all my husband does is talk and it drives me insane some days.”

”darling?” a deep familiar voice calls out from behind you, accompanied by the sound of heeled shoes clicking against stone. before you can turn around, you feel his warm hand rest itself on your shoulder, the comforting heat of his body engulfing you from behind. “i’ve been looking for you.”

the blood drains from both the marine officers’ faces, their eyes widening in shock as it dawns on them what a mistake they’ve just made. as though pleading for mercy, the eyes of the larger man flickers in your direction, almost screaming: “please, i’m too young to die.”

”were these men giving you trouble?” Mihawk probes gently, using his other hand to tilt your head in his direction. the moment his eyes meet your own and widen ever so slightly, you know there’s no point lying. as much as you’ve been able to hold back your tears of frustration well enough to fool the average man, your husband is anything but average.

mouths still agape, the marine officers can do nothing but watch as the notorious swordsman proceeds to cup your face with his right hand in a manner so tender they can’t help but suspect he’s an imposter. unbothered by the unbelieving stares sent his way, Mihawk brushes his thumb under your eye as though to confirm his suspicion.

”they were but it’s okay now,” you finally reply, placing your hand over his to hold it in place as you relish in the comforting warmth of his palm.

”what did you do to my wife?” he disregards your subtle plea for peacemaking. he knows you well enough to infer that you simply don’t want him to make a scene for the sake of maintaining his public image. 

Mihawk’s aware of how much you actually enjoy silently watching him defend your pride and honour; and he also knows from experience how happily you’ll reward him with your honeyed words and sweet touches later tonight, when it’s just the two of you alone together. it concerns him, slightly, if he were to be honest, how easily you have him wrapped around your finger—but that’s something to think about another day. 

the marines stutter and stammer but nothing coherent leaves their lips, all linguistic ability fading into nothing under the angered gaze of the Warlord.

”be thankful my beloved is as kind as she is,” the swordsman warns, all the while maintaining his hardened glare. “know that had she not vouched for you two, i’d have no problem killing you right where you stand.”

—

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[beckyninja]

Cleanse

Pairing: Demetrian Titus x FemReader

Warnings: Sexual content, MDNI

Description: In the baths, you contemplate both your present and future with Titus. Little do you know, unfriendly eyes are watching.

I'll say this once, if you're a fan of Leandros, this story arc may not be for you. 😈

(To read the rest of the fics in this series, check out my Masterlist.)

“You’re sure this is allowed?” 

You saw no one else in the vaulted chamber, yet still felt the need to whisper. Part of you felt like a misbehaving child. The rest of you shivered with barely disguised glee.

“Of course it is!” Vesta rolled her eyes. “I told you, my unc- I mean, Lord Callistus specifically gave me permission.”

“But he didn’t give me permission.”

“Worry wart.” Your friend giggled. “Just look at this place!”

You did. High ceilings adorned with blue and gold mosaics soared above you. Columns wider than the reach of your arms lined the walls. Every polished marble surface gleamed in the flickering candlelight.

But the thing that truly made you catch your breath was the great pool of steaming water stretching from one end of the room to the other. 

On your homeworld, you’d played in mountain streams. Since becoming a serf, you’d learned of lakes and oceans. But this was by far the most still water you’d ever seen in one place. The steam curling from its rippling surface moistened your skin and filled your lungs.

“What if one of the Marines comes in?”

Vesta was already laying out her bucket of supplies: soap, brushes, and washing cloths. She shook her head.

“Those that aren’t sleeping are preparing for our arrival at Demerium. Unc- Lord Callistus told me so. You, yourself, told me your Lord Titus was in strategy meetings with his squad.” She shot you a wry look. “I’m only glad you finally seem to have a free moment. I’ve barely seen you since we left Avarax!” 

You felt heat rush to your face and turned away, pretending to examine the carvings on a nearby pillar.

“De-Demetrian!”

“Yes. Cry my name.”

“Deme- ah!”

“Good girl. You can take more, can you not?”

“I-I….”

“Please, Little Healer. I need you.” 

Demetrian had been insatiable the last few days, pulling (or throwing) you into bed at every opportunity. Only a frustrated vox call from his squadmates finally dragged him from your side. You remembered the mournful look in his eyes as he left you. 

Warm liquid hit you in the back of the head, soaking your thin robe. You gasped and turned to find Vesta holding the dripping bucket. She giggled.

“Are you going to stare at that pillar all night? Or are you- eek!”

You cupped a handful of water and flung it back at your friend. She squealed and darted away. You forced yourself to relax.

“You go first, Vesta. I’ll watch in case any of the cleaning serfs try to come in.”

“Ah, good idea.” She slipped off her clothes and settled into the water with a sigh.

You tensed when she sank under. “Vesta!”

She surged up again, shaking her wet curls out of her eyes. “What are you worrying about now?”

“How deep is it?”

“It’s a bath for Astartes, how deep do you think it is?” With another giggle she pushed away from the wall and paddled farther into the pool.

You cocked your head to one side as you watched. “I didn’t know you could swim.”

“I learned when I was a little girl on Macragge. At my family’s seaside estate.”

“Your family had an estate?” 

“Mmmhmm.” She dove under again, reappearing in another part of the pool.

Nobility?! How in the Emperor’s Name…?

Vesta caught your eye and grinned, paddling back to the side. “You should see the look on your face!” The grin faded. “Fine. Fine. Hand me the soap and I’ll tell you the whole story.”

***

“...and so, after the plague took my parents and siblings, the inheritance came down to me, or an older cousin. I was little, so I don’t remember much. But apparently the arguments were fierce. Finally, my cousin decided to bring in the only other living member of our House to mediate.”

You sat at the edge of the pool, feet in the steaming water, as you watched Vesta rub the soap through her hair. 

“You don’t mean…?”

The medica nodded. “Lord Callistus’ portrait had hung in our grand hall for longer than I can remember. Father used to hold me up so I could see, telling me the story of how his great grandmother’s older brother had become an Ultramarine, bringing honor to our family. But, of course, he’d never met the man. None of us had.”

Vesta paused, eyes going distant. “Uncle tells me I looked like a scared rabbit when he first saw me. All alone and small and helpless. I reminded him of his little sister.” She smiled. “Anyway, my cousin had the stronger claim, so the estate went to him. And I went with Uncle Callistus.”

You looked at your friend with a clinical eye. Unscarred. Well-fed. With a lightness of manner lacking in many of the other serfs you’d encountered.

“He treats you well.”

“More like a daughter, or well, a niece, than a serf.” She nodded. “Oh, he’s a bit gruff and exacting. Not one to allow his medicae to slack off, that’s for sure!” She laughed. “But he’s kind for all that.”

She leaned back, rinsing the soap from her hair. “I’ve told him about you.”

You sat upright. “You have?”

“Mmmhmm. He says a serf with prior medical knowledge is wasted attending to just one Marine.”

A cold knot of dread formed in the pit of your stomach. “I’m content where I am, Vesta.”

“I know. You’ve told me how wonderful a lord Titus is. Over and over again.” She smirked.

You felt your face heating again, wondering just how effusive you’d been with your praise. 

Did she suspect…? No. No, surely not.

Vesta continued, her face going serious. “But, well, we’re about to go into battle. And I’ve heard what can happen to personal serfs left all alone.”

The cold knot hardened into a ball of ice. You remembered cowering in Demetrian’s locked quarters when you first arrived. You remembered the terror, the despair, of thinking he’d died.

You hadn’t cared what would happen to you.

“Have you,” your voice rasped, “have you heard anything about why we’re going to Demerium?”

Vesta folded her arms on the edge of the pool. A rare frown creased her face.

The words kept coming. “Surely it isn’t so bad. Not worse than Tyranids. And Deme- Lord Titus has conquered the vile insects before.”

Barely.

Your mind flashed to the reason for his conversion to Primaris. The new scars, ragged and red. The haggard look in his eye when he returned from each battle. The way he clung to you these past few days.

Vesta remained silent for a long while. “Usually I can discern something, just from what the Apothecaries are doing. The tools and medicines they prepare. But this time…?” She shook her head. “Not even Uncle has said anything. But it’s going to be bad, my friend, I can tell.”

“The Emperor protects.” You whispered.

“The Emperor protects.” Vesta heaved herself up out of the pool and reached for a towel. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sure Lord Titus will be fine!”

You saw straight through her false cheer.

She noticed, and came to stand next to you, wrapping a damp arm about your shoulders. “I just want you to know if, Emperor forbid, the worst should happen, you’ll have a place in the Apothecarion. I swear it!”

Leaning into her, you tried to smile. “You’re a true friend, Vesta.”

For once, she seemed at a loss for words, hugging you tight. Then, a look of alarm came over her freckled features.

“Throne damn it! I lost all sense of time!” She began frantically pulling on her underclothes and robe. “I promised Uncle I’d be back within two hours to finish the requisition reports!”

A real smile crept across your face at your friend’s antics. 

She flung her bathing supplies into their bucket. “He’ll tan my hide if I turn in late paperwork…again. Well, not really. But I’d rather not be on the receiving end of one of his lectures!” She hesitated, looking toward you.

You waved her away. “Go on. I’ll be fine. Like you said, no one should come in at this time of night. And I just wanted to wash my hair, anyway.”

“If you’re sure. Thanks!” She skidded out of the chamber.

Like the sun going behind a cloud, your brief mirth faded. Vesta’s words echoed in your mind. Old fears reared their ugly heads.

You bent and splashed some of the warm water on your face. “I can’t think like this. I can’t.”

The steaming pool called your name, promising a brief moment of comfort. 

You carefully removed your robe and underclothes. At least with Vesta gone, you no longer had to hide your winces. The flesh between your legs still ached. And when you bent over the water and saw your reflection….

“Throne of Terra….”

Bruises dotted your skin. Your neck, your breasts, your thighs. Many in the shape of large hands.

You gingerly touched the teeth marks in your shoulder. “How in the Warp would I have explained this to you, Vesta?”

Demetrian had never been so rough with you before. You should be annoyed, frightened, even.

Instead….

You ran your hands over each mark, remembering his touch, the rasp of calluses against your skin. When you reached your breasts, you remembered the heat of his mouth. Your nipples hardened beneath your fingers.

“Oh Throne….”

Desire pulsed in your core.

You tried to ignore it as you slipped into the pool. But the enveloping touch of the warm water drew a sharp gasp from your lips. After a year of cold showers and hurried sponge baths, it felt divine.

As your body relaxed, your mind wandered.

Blue eyes. Looking at you with a wonder-filled intensity. Like you provided something he could not believe he had and could not live without. He could steal your breath with a glance.

A strong body. Massive and scarred and so much more than any baseline man. Those arms had torn xenos in two with little effort. You were helpless in their embrace. 

And that voice….

“Little Healer.”

Emperor forgive you, you loved it all. You loved him.

A moan burst from your lips as your hand ventured between your legs, sheer need overriding any lingering soreness.

I shouldn’t be doing this. Especially not here!

But you couldn’t control your fingers, or the memories that raced through your mind. His hands. His tongue. The great weight of him above you. The burning stretch of his length within you.

What if he doesn’t return from this battle? What if these memories are all I will ever have?

You worked yourself faster. Pleasure rising…rising…rising….

Until it crested.

“Demetrian!”

***

Eyes watched the serf girl from the far corner of the room, shrouded in shadow. She hadn’t noticed his entrance. Too lost in her shameful indulgence.

The eyes glinted with outrage. 

“Demetrian!”

Lips curled into a snarl. He recognized this girl. He’d seen her sneaking away from what he now realized was a clandestine liaison with the disgraced Capt- Lieutenant. He cursed himself for his mental slip.

Not a Captain! No longer deserving of that rank, if he ever was to begin with.

His fists clenched. A soft splash returned his attention to the girl.

She climbed out of the water and paused on her knees. He saw the tremble in her limbs. He saw the water drip off her flushed skin, off the pointed tips of her bare, full breasts. 

He saw the bruises, the bite marks. Outrage swelled within him once more.

He could destroy the Lieutenant with this. What the Inquisition had failed to do, he could finally accomplish.

Corruption! Heresy!

Yet he didn’t move as the girl stood, drying herself. His eyes remained locked on her unmarred skin. Her rounded curves. 

Over and over again he replayed her impassioned cry. His outrage changed, tainted by a new, bitter emotion.

Why Titus? What right did Titus have to…this? To her?

As the girl dressed, a mad impulse came into his head. He imagined himself charging across the baths and tearing away the girl’s clothes. He imagined pinning her to the wall and looking…touching….  

He felt himself thickening. Panicked by the unfamiliar sensation, he reached down and grasped his member. 

The jolt of pleasure ripped a guttural snarl from his throat.

The girl froze. He saw her head jerk back and forth, yet knew her weak baseline eyes could not pierce the darkened corners.

He watched her gather her things and flee like a frightened prey animal.

Did that make him the predator? 

No! The guilty often flee from those who would save their souls.  

As he continued running his hand along his stiffened shaft, he found he enjoyed that idea. 

So, Titus thought he deserved pleasure. A fallen soul dared to reach for the blessings reserved for the righteous.

Leandros would cleanse him of such filthy perversions. In time, he would cleanse you both.

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[urinarythreatinfection]

Shoulders

Various x tall male reader. Shanks, Usopp, Luffy, Sanji. You put your babygirls on your shoulders. No relationship but crush.

Shanks

“Ugh..” Shanks gets on his tippy toes to try and look at something, he’s a tall man but somehow not tall enough to get a good view. This cliff is high and he knows it would be awesome if only there weren’t a hill just about blocking it. “So much for being tall..” Shanks huffs and you spot him moping.

“Something wrong Captain?” You ask him, significantly taller. “Woah, the view here is really nice.” To you the hill isn’t blocking anything so you admire it, almost forgetting your captain until you look back at him staring at you.

“Way to shove it in…” He grumbles and you process what he’s talking about before getting excited.

“Captain, are you too short to see it!?” You ask him and he sighs.

“Just not tall enough, not that I’m short.” He has an exasperated smile on his face but he is actually bummed that he’s missing a nice view. Shanks just knows for a fact if he brought this up with any other crewmates or tried to grab something to get higher he would get made fun of, so he’s just been trying to get a good view on his own. He even contemplated jumping, but that would be a temporary solution since he would fall eventually. As he’s thinking he feels his waist being grabbed. “Hm?” He’s being lifted. 

“How’s this?” You ask as you put him on your shoulders. He grabs onto your head to balance himself and then looks up, eyes widening before he could get a chance to say anything else.

“I can see it now!” He says as he gets comfortable on your shoulders. His eyes sparkle, this is amazing! He looks down at you “I should say my thanks, I’m not heavy?” 

“Light as a feather, Cap.”

“Flattering~ Try not to break any woman’s hearts with that line. Almost got me with that.” He teases and averts his gaze back to the view, gotta keep it cool before he gets embarrassed himself.

…

“Should I keep trying then?” You mumble and he looks back down at you, shocked.

“..Ah?” He processes it then looks back up, patting your head. “..yeah..maybe..” His ears are blending in with his hair, cute.

Usopp

“Dammit.” He holds his binoculars to his eyes, unable to get a good vantage point from this height. He’d already boasted that Zoro and Luffy didn’t need to worry about the Marines and that he could deal with them from afar, but like this he isn’t sure if he could do it. 

“Are you having trouble?” You walk up to him while asking. Oh great, now his crush is here to watch him fail. 

“Not at all, just taking my time you know since I really gotta get this right, of course I could do it anytime I want-” He starts to ramble on and on while you stare at him. Eventually you figure out what the problem is and grab him, plopping him onto your shoulders. “Eek! What are you-”

“Look.” You motion for him to try again and he looks towards the crowd of marines again, realizing that now he can get a good shot, but now he’s flustered because you’re both touching and oh my god his crotch is on the back of your head he needs to stay calm. “C’mon, take aim.” He clears his throat, trying to put himself together as he looks back towards the crowd of marines.

‘Don’t miss this chance and embarrass yourself Usopp, he’s right here.’ He thinks to himself as he aims his slingshot, taking aim before he finally fires a Pop Green, which detonates in the middle of the crowd. Plants shoot up from the ground and start eating the marines, multiplying and taking care of the whole crows without the crew having to run over and do it themselves. “I did it!” He cries happily, slowly going limp until you catch him in your arms.

“You did it! Are you okay?”

“Yeah just nerv- I mean of course I’m okay! That was nothing.” He sits up in your arms.

“Oh I guess I don’t have to carry you.” He freezes and then goes limp in your arms again.

“I have I-can’t-walk-until-we-get-back-onto-the-Sunny disease.” You smile and walk back to The Sunny with him in your arms. 

Luffy

“Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm..” Luffy stares at the wall above him. They’re at an island and Franky’s building something cool, but is keeping it a secret from Luffy no matter how much he begs since he would be too excited too early and end up blabbing to everyone else. He can’t jump to the other side because he might crash into it, so he stretches up and tries to put his arms on the ledge. Slippery! They slip off and he snaps back to the ground and falls back with a grumble. That means he probably wouldn’t be able to just jump on the wall either. There aren’t any trees or anything around for him to climb on either…. Maybe he could just go gear 4 to bounce up?

“Luffy?” He hears your voice and jolts, turning to face you like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “..Trying to see what Franky’s building?”

“I just wanna take a peek! I won’t tell anyone else!” He whines, trying to stretch up again but slipping off for the second time. No getting to see the cool invention and now he’s failing right in front of you! He’s about to change into Bounce Man when you lift him up onto your shoulders. “Don’t say I did this, okay?” His eyes twinkle, why didn’t he think of this sooner. Convenient and he gets to be on your shoulders. You watch as the captain looks up.. and suddenly goes silent. “...Luffy? What is it?” It’s just an even higher wall that says “Using (Y/n) isn’t going to work either.” 

“Nooooooooooo!” It never mattered, there’s a ceiling too so gear 4th wouldn’t have worked either.

Sanji

“Fuck.” Sanji mutters to himself, he had been shopping with you when he spotted some ladies being harassed. Him, being a gentleman, couldn’t just let that slide; so he beat the shit out of the men. After they were sufficiently beat up and the ladies were sufficiently flirted with he had realized his groceries were gone. At first he was worried that they were stolen but when he looked up he just realized that in the heat of battle he had accidentally flung the bags up and onto a roof. 

“How did you even manage that?” You mumble, staring up at them. 

“This is all those damn scumbags’ fault.” He’s started to heat up again before you put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. The cook sighs. “I’ll get them.” The cook says, but right as he’s about to air walk you pick him up and place him on your shoulders so he can reach. His eyes are wide and he freezes.

“Sanji? Can you reach it now?” He stays frozen, he’s been placed on your shoulders. Your shoulders. Your amazing spectacular comfortable shoulders oh so helpfully despite him being able to have done it himself because of course you would you’re so amazing and kind. 

“L’amour de ma vie.” He speaks before he can stop himself, then turns bright red. 

“You say something?” You ask from below and he panics.

“Nothing!” He quickly says, grabbing the groceries and holding them to his thumping chest. Gods, he needs to control himself now before he gives anything away. Sanji stays there, trying to control his heartbeat.

“Sanji. Uh, are you gonna get off?”

“Merde, sorry..!” He quickly hops off of your shoulders, landing on the ground. You realize something.

“Oh you could’ve just gotten up there on your own, sorry I was so focused on helping you I forgot.”

“It’s fine, more than fine, you can do that whenever you wan- whenever I need it—and you’re willing to give it of course.” Yeah he’s so screwed. You just smile at him, and he immediately freezes before blood trickles from his nose. 

“Hey!? Wha- there’s no girls right here, what happened!?” You fuss over him as he spaces out, thinking of how much he loves his life right now.

××××××

L’amour de ma vie = Love of my life

Merde: Shit

if you guys want any more characters with this send a request or say so

[bumblesimagines]

When Fire Meets Fate

Part 12

Request: Yes or No

Summary: For three days, the Queen and King Consort of Westeros remained unreachable after hearing the news of Prince Lucerys Velaryon's death. But with war threatening to spill over, they must put aside their grief for the sake of the Realm.

CW/TW: Typical HOTD warnings, spoilers for S2, mentions of Luke's death/loss of a child, hella grief, implied sexism toward Rhaenyra/a female ruler, angst, will (Y/N) Hightower ever catch a break? tune in next time to find out

Alexa play The Family Jewels by Marina and every other song i have on the playlist(s) for this series

~~~

Grief was an old friend, for it and (Y/N) had grown aquatinted long ago back in his youth when his mother passed, frail and weak and miserable. Grief was a snake that coiled around the heart and mind and squeezed until one could no longer weep or breathe. It constricted and slithered about in the shadows in the back of one's mind, lunging out with its fangs eager to sink into tender flesh. But grief was no monster, not truly. It formed from one of the purest things humans were capable of. 

Love. 

(Y/N) tried to remember that as he rubbed his fingers into his tear-stained cheeks and handed his empty cup to the nearby maid. She curtsied with her head bowed and stepped away while another lowered herself down onto the stone floor to tend to his youngest children, Aegon and Viserys. He listened to the clacking of wooden toys hitting the floor and each other, the incoherent babbling only they could understand, and the gentle cooing of the maid as she played along with them, encouraging them to play together. 

He couldn't remember the last time he bathed nor the last time he'd changed out of his sleepwear. He could hardly recall the last time he'd seen his wife, or even heard news of her wellbeing. She'd taken off on Syrax without word days prior but reports flew in occasionally of sightings. She searched shorelines relentlessly. She searched for their son's remains. 

Aegon tilted his head up toward his father and leaned forward, reaching one small, chubby hand out toward his pant leg and giving a swift tug. (Y/N)'s fluttering thoughts halted and his attention dropped down to the small boy, his heart and gaze softening as Aegon stared up at him expectantly with those large violet eyes. He leaned down and scooped his son into his arm, a soft exhale leaving him at the familiarity of it all. He couldn't lose another child. Little silent Marin and joyful Luke. (Y/N) pressed his lips to Aegon's temple and squeezed his eyes shut at the thought of them.

"My Lord," Daemon's voice called out from the doorway and (Y/N) sighed heavily. "I wish to speak with you."

"What about?" His voice sounded hoarse, dry and worn from little care. 

"Pressing matters that are best discussed in private," Daemon answered and (Y/N) swallowed harshly, rubbing his cracked lips together in contemplation before he carefully set his son back on the floor and approached the prince, sparing his playing children a glance as the door into the room closed. He inhaled deeply and turned his head toward Daemon.

"What is it?"

"I wish to fly out to King's Landing and kill Vhagar. She is the only thing standing between us and the throne, the old bitch. I asked Rhaenys to accompany me but she refused without Rhaenyra's command. She's always liked you, despite what happened with Laenor. She may yet listen if you ask this of her, or matter of fact, command it. You are our King. She'll have no choice but to-"

"Consort, Daemon. I am King Consort to Queen Rhaenyra. I am but an extension of her and the throne. I will not do or say anything without her knowledge, Daemon, that is my duty. When she returns-"

Daemon's jaw clenched, his voice beginning to rise and echo loudly down the hall. "Rhaenyra has been away for days, (Y/N)! We cannot push forward without our Queen here and she has abandoned her duties to fly out without anyone at her side where she is most vulnerable! Rhaenyra is a queen, she cannot take leave without saying anything-"

"And she's a grieving mother, Daemon. We just learned our son is dead! Our boy is gone. Mere weeks ago he was at our side healthy and happy and- and smiling and now he is dead. We are grieving our- our child. Rhaenyra was a mother before she became queen, or have you forgotten? Luke- Luke was only barely man-grown. We will not see him wed; we will not see him have children; we will not see what could've become of him because-" (Y/N) felt breathless, heart squeezing and twisting as tears flooded his vision again. He was so sick of crying. He inhaled sharply, blinking away the tears whilst Daemon watched grimly. "If Rhaenys believed your plan to be a good one, she would've agreed. Attacking Vhagar will merely put our best fighters and dragons at risk. If you wish to do anything else than be here, you may patrol the island."

"If Rhaenyra does not return soon," Daemon began quietly, voice tittering on the edge of sympathy and irritation. "The Council's support may begin to waver. We look to you in Rhaenyra's absence, and even in her presence many will still desire your approval. They may be here to support her but half of those men are only fulfilling the oath they made to King Viserys, not her. Consort or not, the Council believes you to be a more suitable ruler than Rhaenyra right now." 

(Y/N)'s teeth grinded together, his eyes flickering away from the prince as his words churned in his mind. He knew many of the men on their Council well; power-seeking fools who believed themselves to always be in the right regardless of what others thought or said. He'd been drowning in his grief for too long with no remedy whilst the men likely argued and filled each other's heads with ideas of grandeur. For the sake of the realm, for the sake of his wife's greatest desire... (Y/N) had to put aside his grief and longing, even if it swallowed him whole later. 

"Check for any reportings of Syrax or Rhaenyra." (Y/N) ordered him, taking a deep inhale and releasing it in a sigh. "I... I will deal with the Council for now."

Setting off for his bedchambers, he gave the servants a list of requests that they quickly scattered off to fulfill. He bathed for the first time in a long while, scrubbing away the grime and sweat that'd accumulated over time before he dried himself and finally dressed himself in something other than sleepwear that felt and looked as regal as his position. He soothed his aching throat with sweetened tea and properly broke his fast with a meal before leaving his bedchambers and heading down the halls to where the Council awaited his arrival. 

"My Lord," They rose to their feet and bowed their heads, all but Rhaenys who simply watched him enter, her gaze curious and intrigued. Few of the lords remained standing as he stopped at the end of the table where Rhaenyra's seat was, coming to stand behind it and rest his hands along the top. They watched, waiting for him to sit. 

"Before we begin, I'd like to apologize for not attending the past few meetings, but I am here now, and soon so will my wife." (Y/N) took in the exchanged glances and grim, almost annoyed looks that passed over some of their faces. He took note of those who seemed more vexed than the others.

"I know these past days have been dark and confusing for some without our queen here but I'd like to remind you all that Queen Rhaenyra has not forgotten her duties to the Realm and to this council. If she cared little for her position as Queen, you all would be home or in King's Landing serving under the usurper, but you are not. Why? Because Queen Rhaenyra refused to allow her father's wishes to be ignored by Dowager Queen Alicent and the oathbreakers who support her son. You are here because you are not Oathbreakers nor men easily intimidated or swayed. I am thankful for your presence and support, as is my wife as we go through such difficult times. I ask for more patience, patience I will ensure is rewarded when this comes to an end."

He watched them all, unable to push away the jittering nerves bubbling up in his stomach. (Y/N) had always considered himself a confident man but he'd always merely been Otto Hightower's son and nothing more. He knew the moment he married Rhaenyra, it'd be asked of him one day to command or rule in her stead for whichever reason, but he simply never expected it to occur so soon. His eyes jumped to Rhaenys, staring into her unreadable yet gentle eyes, and felt himself relax when she gave him a subtle encouraging nod. 

"With that out of the way," (Y/N) cleared his throat and took in another small breath. "Has a letter been sent out to Prince Jacaerys? Has he answered?"

The men exchanged glances once more but only Lord Bartimos Celtigar took a small step forward toward the table to speak, his eyes sliding over the rest of the council in mild irritation. "We... We were not aware an order was given to send a letter for Prince Jacaerys, My Lord." He spoke carefully and slowly. 

A beat of silence passed. "The... The brother of the heir to the Iron Throne has died and none of you believed it to be wise to inform him?" (Y/N) questioned, stepping around the chair and pressing his fingers into the table. The men answered in silence and (Y/N) almost rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Maester Gerardys, please prepare a letter for Prince Jacaerys informing him of what has occurred." 

"Will you be asking for his presence, My Lord?" Maester Gerardys asked as he rose from his seat, his hands clasping together and being partly covered when his large sleeves rolled down his arms. Perhaps one of the few men (Y/N) could trust amongst the council with his age and experience in overseeing the family's matters. "We have yet to receive word on his progress in the North."

"Tell him.." (Y/N)'s gaze flickered away from the maester, his thumb beginning to rub into the ring on his index finger. Eyes turned back to him, peering at him closely. It felt as if he'd stepped into a den of vipers awaiting one wrong move so they could strike. "Inform him of what has happened and... and that once he has finished securing Cregan Stark's army, he is to return home. He is needed here, now more than ever." 

"Of course, My Lord." Maester Gerardys bent slightly at the waist in a bow, the chain around his neck swaying and clinking with his movements before he lowered himself back down into his seat.

"Good," (Y/N) cleared his throat and straightened his back, wetting his lips in uncertainty. Nobody had instructed him on ruling; his childhood had been filled with history books, lessons from maesters and septas, and the basics of how to use a sword and defend himself, but never had it crossed anyone's mind that he'd reach the status of 'King Consort.' He released a quiet sigh. "What news do you all have to share?" 

Long stretches of hours passed filled, hardly filled with much necessary news and rather squabbling and insistence in carrying on with a bloody war. (Y/N) stared blankly at the table for half of it, suddenly understanding why his mother oft' seemed in her head whenever his brothers bickered and complained in front of her. Rhaenys and Daemon appeared to share his thoughts, neither providing much input apart from Daemon occasionally agreeing with the idea of pressing forward without Rhaenyra. None of it surprised (Y/N), but he still wished to be with his children instead. He yearned to see Jace, safe and sound within the walls of the castle where no danger could chance upon him. 

His legs and back were beginning to ache, and his stomach lightly grumbled for food. His lips parted to provide some excuse to remove himself from the meeting but the doors parted and Ser Erryk strolled into the room, dipping his head to the lords in respect before making a beeline for him. "What is it?" (Y/N) asked instead. 

"We found a stowaway in one of the ships." Ser Erryk explained quietly. "The White Worm, she calls herself. She's provided little answers as to why she's come here apart from her desire to have a word with you, My Lord." 

"You should remain here." Daemon cut in swiftly before (Y/N) could respond, rising from his seat as the corner of his lips curled. (Y/N)'s gaze darted to him questioningly, his eyes squinting slightly at the prince. "I am well-acquainted with the 'White Worm', My Lord. I shall deal with her for you. There's no need for you to trouble yourself." 

(Y/N) pressed his lips into a grim line. "Very well, Daemon." He dismissed him with a nod, catching the wince from Ser Erryk before the knight dipped his head again and escorted the prince off to where they were holding the so-called White Worm. He watched them go, hands coming together and fingers beginning to toy with the rings along his knuckles. 

Allowing a long moment to pass, one filled with more squabbling and debating, he let out a heavy sigh. "It has grown quite late." He announced to the lords, savoring the way they grew silent at his words and nodded in agreement. 

Before he could continue, however, a distant yet familiar shriek echoed from outside the castle. (Y/N) clamped his mouth shut and swore he felt his heart twist into itself, his body growing stiff when another shriek followed. Syrax. He knew the sound of the golden she-dragon well. How could he not when his wife had insisted on introducing them to each other? His jittering thoughts were confirmed when Daemon returned to the room with Ser Erryk at his heels; the knight positioning himself by the doors and beginning to recite those familiar words:

"Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, the First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm." 

(Y/N) watched her when she entered, breath nearly knocked out of his lungs when they made eye contact from across the room. He'd be a liar if he denied the thought that she'd abandoned them hadn't briefly crossed his mind but there she stood, his wife and queen.

Rhaenyra looked disheveled and utterly exhausted; Her pale skin had grown speckled with dirt and grime; bags had formed under her watery violet eyes; the hair she oft' kept in a neat and long braid had fallen loose from the hairstyle and tumbled down her shoulders in wild, wind-swept strands; her clothes looked worn and dirtied. 

Everyone seemingly held their breaths as she staggered into the room and rounded the table, her eyes never leaving his until she stood at his side. The words Daemon and Rhaenys spoke slipped in one ear and out the other for them both, the space held between their bodies feeling agonizingly far. (Y/N)'s eyes flickered between hers, not a fragment of a reaction or emotion on either of their faces but they nonetheless communicated. She'd found his remains. 

Rhaenyra broke away first to finally face the Council for the first time in days, her chest falling with a shaky exhale. She stared at the flickering candles littered around the table, her cracked lips parting. She stayed quiet for a beat before lifting her gaze.

"I want... Aemond Targaryen." She spoke, her voice shaking and eyes flooding with unshed tears. Her trembling hand found his and wrapped around him, squeezing him lightly.

"That-" His voice threatened to crack. "That will be all for today, My Lords. I bid you goodnight." 

The walk to their bedchambers was a quiet one, a silence the maids ensured to keep as they helped Rhaenyra into her bath and draped her nightgown over the bed. (Y/N) dismissed them with a nod, waiting for them to collect her filthy clothes and depart before he lowered down onto the stool beside the tub. He shed himself of his upper wear until his undershirt remained, tugging the sleeves up to his elbows and taking the soapy sponge into his hand. 

"I sent word for Jace." He spoke first, rubbing the sponge into her skin and cleaning away all that'd accumulated there over the past days. Rhaenyra finally seemed to break out of her hazy trance to look upon him, her nostrils flaring slightly and head weakly nodding. He scrubbed lightly at her collarbone, the water beginning to turn in color. "I made an attempt at.. dealing with the Council, but you know I have a low tolerance for vexing old men." 

Rhaenyra managed to crack a small smile. "I'm... thankful.. for your patience." She murmured, her still trembling hand grasping one of the other sponges and slowly dragging over her no-doubt aching thighs. 

They fell into comfortable silence again. (Y/N) continued helping her bathe, ensuring to wash her hair that'd grown darker in color from days of going ignored. His mind flickered back to his youth as he carefully brushed out the knots, briefly recalling the times he brushed Alicent's hair. But when he thought of Alicent, he thought of Aemond, and then he thought of Luke and how frightened he must've been in his last moments, likely yearning to be in the protective embrace of his parents. His movements stilled, his heart ramming against his ribcage. 

"Arrax was torn to shreds," Rhaenyra said quietly, as if she'd read his mind. "They... They washed up onshore... I-I... Arrax's wing and-" She cut herself off with a sharp breath, her teeth digging into the flesh of her bottom lip and eyes fluttering close. Tears slipped down her cheeks, causing ripples in the water when they fell from her chin. "He- He... I- I saw- Oh, my sweet boy," Rhaenyra sobbed, her knees tugging toward her chest and shoulders shaking. 

(Y/N) desperately blinked the tears away and took a deep inhale, digging his blunt nails into his palms until the prickle of pain forced his mind to focus on it. A habit he'd fallen into back in his youth, back when their mother passed and his twin needed comfort. He squeezed his eyes shut until the waterworks stopped turning and opened them again.

He leaned down to press his lips against her bare, wet shoulder before doing the same to her jawline. "I know, Nyra, I know. You must weep until you cannot. You must let it out now before it can swallow you again. Our- Our boys need us, Nyra. The Realm, too. They need Queen Rhaenyra to rule and protect them." 

Rhaenyra twisted in the tub and slung her arms around his shoulders, her wet skin soaking his shirt as she embraced him. He allowed the brush to fall onto the stone floor with a clatter and slipped his arms around her as well, unable to stop himself from pulling her as close as possible. Rhaenyra continued to cry into his shoulder until the exhaustion of grief and her days out on Syrax crashed into her. He helped her out of the tub and helped her dry, offering her his shoulder to lean on when she slipped on her nightgown. 

"I..." Rhaenyra swallowed, her head coming to rest upon her pillow and heavy eyes threatening to lull her off into a deep yet much-needed slumber. "I love you." She exhaled softly, her eyes falling shut and her body growing limp against the bed.

Quietly chuckling, he kissed the space between her brows. "I love you too, Nyra."

Rhaenyra tightly clutched his hand as they waited for their eldest to be escorted into the room. He'd arrived moments prior, per the familiar cry of Vermax and the shadow that'd passed over the castle. It would've been followed by the younger Arrax if the Gods had been kind to them, a thought the two seemed to share for Rhaenyra squeezed his hand even tighter, her nails unintentionally leaving imprints in his skin. 

The sound of footsteps drew their blank, distant stares away from the fireplace and toward the two young figures who entered. Baela offered them a sympathetic tight-lipped smile, her hand coming to rest on Jace's arm comfortingly before she exited the room. It hadn't been long since they last saw Jace but still, he somehow appeared older. Perhaps spending time with a man such as Cregan Stark had allowed him to learn much and more. Still, Jace's eyes watered the moment he looked at them, and all (Y/N) saw was his little boy.

"Your Grace, My Lord," Jace began and stepped forward, clasping his hands together as his lips began to quiver. "Lady Jeyce Arryn has pledged her support in exchange for a dragon to guard the Vale. And... Lord C-Cregan Stark... has p-promised-"

Unable to sit and watch idly as their son slowly broke down, Rhaenyra set aside her tea and stood up alongside (Y/N), their hands still tightly bound together as if worried if they parted, it'd snap them out of a dream. Jace's features contorted, his brows knitting tightly the moment his parents drew closer, almost collapsing into their arms as sobs wrecked through his body. Rhaenyra cried as well, her hand releasing her husband's to wrap around him instead, pulling her beloveds close to her body. 

"We're here, Jace," (Y/N) whispered to him, trekking his fingers through chestnut curls that resembled his side of the family so well. Jace's arm tightened around him in return, his light eyes squeezed shut and snot beginning to trickle down from his nose. There'd been few times Jace had ever sobbed in his arms after infancy. He'd always been the stronger one amongst his brothers, the more resilient one. But alas, he was still their little boy.

With Jace safely home, the funeral was held at late dusk when the moon slowly began to peek over the horizon. Rhaenyra lit the stack of wood on top of the pyre where their boy would've laid had his body been recovered and stepped back whilst Maester Gerardys spoke some funeral rites.

On the other side of the flames stood the Velaryons, amongst them Rhaena who watched with teary eyes as Jace stepped forward to toss a folded blanket that'd once belonged to Luke during his younger years. He took little Joffery into his arms afterward and the little boy tossed the wooden toy horse that Luke often played with into the flames as well. 

(Y/N) swallowed the lump in his throat, his fingers digging into the fabric of the clothes Luke had been wearing the day before he departed for Storm's End. He walked with Rhaenyra toward the flames, the two parents fighting back the tears and clutching tightly onto the clothes that still held the smell of their son. Rhaenyra pushed her temple into him and exhaled shakily, pressing her hands over his so they could toss the clothes into the fire together and watch the flames hungrily eat at them. 

It was done. Their son was gone, taking a piece of their hearts with him to wherever his soul had departed. But the world stopped for no one, not even royalty, and so the incoming war continued to threaten the stability of the Realm and the lives of those in Westeros.

As much as he desired to crawl back into bed until the world ended, (Y/N) had a duty to uphold as the new King Consort of the Seven Kingdoms.

[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ³

𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞, 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞...

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a ghost from your past makes a surprise appearance, dragging forth all the regrets and wishes you'd spent years trying to drown. and yet, some strange string of Fate keeps you and the future king of the pirates intertwined, for better or for worse.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: opla!luffy x gn!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.6k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: use of Y/N, gn reader, ANGST, alcohol, an existential crisis probably

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬: the 1 (long pond), i want to live, son of nyx

series masterlist

If someone asked you how many years you’d been a marine, your answer would be uhm, well, less than five, because the actual number was lost to you. But you knew it’d been less than five. Being with the marines for any longer was a thought that shot nausea straight to your gut.

However long it’d been, things had reached a comfortable norm. You rarely saw Koby those days. Back when you were stationed on the same ship, you and he had grown close, finding something familiar in the soul of the other. Now Koby was a captain, you were just under him in rank as a commander, and the two of you were under different commands. 

You rarely noticed when a day passed anymore. It was all a numbing cycle of chores, reports, and arrests—repeat. Your cohorts had taken to a game they called Make-Y/N-Crack, in which they did everything in their power to draw any sort of reaction from you.

No one had won so far, your deadpan too seeped into your whole being that you’d near forgotten how to smile.

Your main indicator of a passage of time was the wear and tear of Luffy’s wanted poster, one of his very first, and certainly not his last. It was faded in some places and torn in a corner, but you held it close to you wherever you went, including the island your ship was stopped at for supplies. 

Given that the ship would be there for a few days, you and your fellows had one night to yourselves to roam the town and do as you pleased. 

“Commander—”

“We’re off duty, Nia. Call me my name,” you said evenly, cutting off the soldier girl. Nia burned bright red, mouth snapping shut. You sighed. “What do you need?”

“Well, I was just wondering why you’re going that way?” she asked, jutting her chin at the side street you’d been headed toward when she called you back. Behind Nia, a rowdy crowd of fellow marines waited for their friend to join, each casting you a contemplative kind of glower. “We’re all headed to the bar, if you wanted to come?”

They all hated you, for reasons you didn't bother to fathom. All except Nia, who was possibly too gentle to be a commissioned marine, in your opinion. “I’m fine. I know where I’m going.”

She nodded once and turned tail, jogging after her friends who nudged her shoulder with a tease you didn’t catch. You stood for a moment and watched them go; you watched their easy smiles and close camaraderie, and you missed that.

Koby flourished in this line of work, setting out everyday to make this world better. You felt you should be doing the same—that you were doing the same—but it all felt so useless. So mundane. Worthless.

You had yet to cross paths with the pirate Monkey D. Luffy. It hadn't yet been a decade, but what if ten years did pass? What then? Would you continue as you are, mindlessly walking a path you’d carved for yourself?

“I need a drink,” you muttered, turning back down the dimly lit street. 

You were somewhat familiar with the town, having been here once before around a year ago. Koby had been with you then, that being one of your last weeks together before he was promoted and moved to a different ship.

It was your intention to find the cozy tavern once again to maybe mull over some of your less-bitter memories. That thought had you running a hand over your face. What’s become of me?

Sometimes you forgot why you’d joined the marines, and then the poster tucked into the pocket of your coat burned with the reminder. Other times, you wondered why you stayed after all this time (you hadn't found a decent answer for that yet).

You found it was easier to get drunk than to wonder where your decisions had led you.

The moment you stepped into the tavern a wave of warm air hit you, along with the odor of sweat, alcohol, and bread. Not the most pleasing combination, but you trudged inside and beelined for the bar anyway. 

The bartender shot you a tight grin, stress lining her forehead. “What can I get ya?”

“Surprise me,” you muttered, setting some money down on the counter. She swiped it up and made to fetch a drink, but her eyes found your messy uniform first. She hesitated, glancing up at you, before warily continuing on her way.

You threw your head into your hands, heaving a sigh. You really should have changed before leaving the ship. Being a marine didn’t make you popular with a great many people. You liked it when town’s smiled at you even when they saw your uniform, but those occurrences were growing fewer and farther between.

If only you had Koby’s optimism. If only you had the guts to stand up. If only you’d gone with Luffy. If only, if only, if only…

He’d probably forgotten all about you, moved on with the sea in his hair and light in his eyes. 

“Here you go.” The bartender placed a drink to your right. You cast it a glance and pulled it closer, peering into the dark liquid. “Strong stuff. Ya look like you need it.”

You nodded through a huffy laugh. “Thanks, miss.”

After cracking your neck you tipped back your drink, grimacing at the sting and just plain awful taste. She chuckled as she walked away. “Told you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumbled into the cup, taking another swig and slamming it back down with a cough.

A figure plopped into the seat beside you, the ruffling of their coat meeting your ears. They let free a hefty sigh, and you swore you felt their exhaustion just radiating off their skin. 

“Brandy, if you please.”

You choked into your cup, this time not from the rancid burn. Stiff as a board, you stared daggers into the bar, hands tight around the cup. The bartender handed over a glass to the person beside you.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” That voice was gruff with a sly tilt to it. You knew that voice.

You didn’t want to turn, but you did anyway, wide eyes landing on the profile of a one armed, red haired pirate you thought for certain you’d never see again.

Shanks swirled around his liquor before taking a drink, slamming the cup back down a moment later. Really, you should have fled the site and gone to spend a miserable night with the other marines. But your whole body was seized up, eyes locked on Luffy’s idol.

“I—” you squeaked, cupping a hand over your mouth an instant later as Shanks cast you a side eye.

Immediately, he was curious, wondering why exactly this kid looked so familiar. He turned his head, disturbed by how you stared at him like you’d seen a ghost. scrutinizing your face, it hit him like a punch to the gut; in his mind’s eye he shrank you down a few feet, gave you a set of buck teeth, and placed you next to a little curly headed boy.

“Y/N?” He laughed. “What—You’re so big!”

Though he smiled, you couldn’t help but picture his face in a wanted poster. Your uniform felt all too hot and heavy all of a sudden. “Uh…”

“What’re you doing here, kid?” He clapped you on the shoulder and nearly knocked the breath out of you. “Where’s Luffy? I never thought I’d see one without the other.”

You hated to spoil his excitement at the prospect of seeing the boy, so you avoided the question altogether. “I’m here for work.”

He saw right through you, his smile losing some of its genuineness. “And Luffy?” You turned and tipped back the last of your drink, and Shanks finally noticed your attire, particularly the familiar emblem. “Shit—the Marines? Really?”

Annoyance crept up your mind. You held your cup in both hands, gaze hung. “Commander Y/N, at your service.”

“Commander… wow.” He shifted to completely face you, a grin working up his face. “That’s amazing.”

You had expected a shout, maybe the retrieval of his pistol. Not whatever that was. You faced him warily, catching pride flashing in his eyes. “You’re not angry…”

“Why would I be?” He waved for the bartender to bring him another drink, motioning two fingers at her. “You’re successful. Always knew you would be, Worm.”

A childish part of you fluttered at the mention of that old nickname. Bookworm. Hah. You hardly read these days, always too busy. The bartender put down two shot glasses and swept away. “But… My job is to catch pirates like you.”

He scoffed, nudging your glass toward you. “No offense, Commander Bookworm, but you’re not catching me anytime soon.”

“I wasn't going to try. Just saying.” You picked up the glass and watched him reach to clink his to yours. Letting slide a scant smirk, you accepted the cheers and shot back the liquid in sync with Shanks. 

You nearly gagged again as you set the glass back down, laughing. “God, I hate liquor.”

Shanks nudged you as he called for yet another drink. “Can’t say the same.” The conversation fell short, and Shanks cast you a glance as you fiddled with the fabric of your coat. “Mind if I ask how you got here? I mean, I figured for sure you’d be with Luffy. You’ve seen his poster, right?”

“Of course,” you snapped back, your hand passing over your pocket. “I, uhm… A while back, Luffy escaped…”

His eyes held a misty sadness. “And you didn’t.”

You found yourself shaking your head, hands closing into fists. “I chose to stay behind.”

Shanks waited for you to elaborate, blinking blankly. And when you didn’t— “Why the fuck would you do that?”

“Excuse me,” you startled.

“Why the fuck,” he enunciated incredulously, “would you stay behind? He’s gotta be beside himself.”

Straightening up, you narrowed your eyes at him. “Even if he was, it’s been years, Red Hair. He’s gotten over it—”

“Have you?” The question was instantaneous, no hesitation behind the dagger-like words.

“What?”

“Gotten over it. I doubt you have.”

You gaped at him. “You know nothing about me. Don’t think you’ve got me all figured out just because you ruined my life by giving Luffy all those stupid dreams—” You choked, huffed, and attempted to make a quick escape.

Shanks’ hand found your shoulder, gentle yet firm, and you plopped back onto your seat, eyes closed tight. “Let me go.”

“I’m sorry,” he said slowly. “Okay? I’ll back off.”

Without asking or saying anything at all, the bartender set another glass of that awful drink in front of you. You took a sip, shaking his hand off and taking a moment to breathe. “It was for the best, all right? I would only hold him back. Look how far he’s come. He couldn’t have done that with me lagging after him.”

“Why would you be lagging?” When you didn’t answer, only turning your face away, he nudged you with his shoulder. “Worm?”

That name made it hard to take anything seriously, but somehow, you managed, hissing out a sigh through your teeth. “It’s much easier to read about other people being brave.” Chewing your lip, “I like to read about heroes, mostly to remind myself why I’m not one.”

“You’re a marine. Surely sometimes you’re a hero.”

“Sometimes.” Throwing caution to the wind, you drank your whole glass in one swig, letting the alcohol simmer through your blood and turn your mind hazy. 

“What did you mean,” he asked. “When you said I ruined your life?”

“Oh. It’s nothing.”

“Tell me.”

You tried to slide off the stool again. “Goodbye, Shanks.”

He didn’t stop you this time, only shifting to watch you slowly trudge away. Shanks scoffed. “C’mon, Worm. What’re you so afraid of?”

Lots of things. You were afraid of spiders and falling, though not of heights themselves, and you quite liked the daddy-long-legs. You were afraid of losing, of failing, of being wrong. Of seeing Luffy again and having him be completely disappointed with what he saw. An all consuming fear that you can’t change what you are, that you’re too far down this road to ever think of turning back.

You hardly realized you’d stopped walking until Shanks was at your side, moving to catch your distracted gaze. “Kid?”

You swallowed thickly. “I was always content with my fate. Luffy wasn’t, and a lot of that has to do with you. The rest was his own passion.” That incessant burn resurfaced in your throat. “So I stayed because I wasn’t about to drag him down with me. He’s too good. I…”

Dammit. You’d been doing so well. You hadn’t cried in months. Trying to glare, you spat, “Goodbye.”

You made to walk past him and actually leave the building this time, but he caught your wrist. Whirling around, your curses were cut off by a quick and dangerous offer: “Come join my crew.”

Shanks was so sincere, nearly hopeful as he stared into your eyes. You wondered if this is how your father would look at you if he knew how to be kind.

Barely breathing, you shoved every word and every notion down to the pits of your mind, retracting your arm to wrap it around yourself. A singular tear fled your eye and was wiped away in an instant. Shaking your head, you backed away from him, trying not to stumble, and bolted out of the tavern. 

The worst of it was Shanks’ sad sigh you caught as you fled, like he’d expected this, like he was wondering why he bothered to ask.

Later, you found Nia and the others waltzing back up to the ship. Your face was dry and your expression a void, and Nia smiled as she raced toward you. 

“Commander!” She skidded to a stop, backtracking, “Sorry. Y/N.”

“What is it?” you said a little too harshly.

She wasn’t perturbed, grinning up at you. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Your heart held this odd numbness you had come to equate with acceptance. Luffy’s poster burned like hellfire in your pocket. “I think so.”

Nia invited you to join the rest of them in the ship’s galley, promising good conversation and cheap wine smuggled on board. You told her you’d think about it, and she chased her friends up the gangway and onto the ship. 

The sea licked at the wood of the docks and the wind bit at your skin. And you stood solemnly, watching that crumpled wanted poster become saturated by murky water till it sank out of view.

You regretted it instantly, a recurring theme for you, apparently. 

How easy would it be to walk away from the marine vessel and find Shanks again? How simple would it be it to ditch this marine’s coat and set off on your own? Your hands started to tremble at the very notion. Not easy and not simple at all. 

Casting a glance up at the starry sky, you bit back a sob, and you made a wish on the first star you laid eyes on. Please, please don’t hate me.

Stiffening, you set your jaw and cursed yourself. You had to get a hold of yourself. Being a marine was hell for you, but you’d been doing it for years. Seeing a ghost from your past and having him give you a chance shouldn’t be so crushing. Honestly, you should be cursing Shanks for giving you an offer you didn’t deserve. This was all his fault, all Luffy’s fault—

And you broke, breath seizing as a silent cry fled your lips. 

You loved him—of course you still loved him. You would until you died, you think. And that was the problem. With your arms wrapped around yourself, you thought back to the day everything changed.

Luffy’s little broken boat, disappearing on the horizon, Vice Admiral Garp leering at your shoulder. Your first moments entrapped by fear. You’d been proud of that day, once upon a time. Now you weren’t so sure.

Was there any room to turn back, with years of running from your past behind you?

“Oh, Luffy. What have I done?”

A cord in your heartstrings snapped, and your feet scrambled away from the marine vessel. A gasp ripped from your chest, eyes aflame, and your fists tightened desperately around this bout of courage.

Back down the road, back to the little tavern, you burst through the double doors, certain you looked insane as your eyes sweeped the dim room. The bartender’s eyes snapped up from where she was cleaning the many glasses you and Shanks had left behind. A fistfull of beri had been left in his wake.

“Keep going left,” said the bartender. “You might catch him.”

A thank you slipped past your lips as you raced outside, raising your hands in two L’s to pinpoint the right direction, taking off down the street that faded from cobblestone to dirt under your footfalls. 

Over twigs and leaves, under trees that grew thick further down the path, your heart thundered against your ribcage. The sloping road grew thin before it gave way to a secluded beach lit only by the moon. Your chest heaved as sand kicked up behind you.

“Wait!” you cried. “Shanks! Wait, please! I'll go with you! Shanks…”

A little lantern illuminated the dingy too far away to hear you as it rowed closer to the ship anchored out in the bay. A whisper of his name fell off your tongue, throat suddenly dry and stomach sick.

You hit your knees, fists grabbing at grains of sand that slipped through your fingertips. “Come back. Please…”

For the second time in your life, you watched a ship sail away carrying with it the chance of freedom, leaving you on the sand empty and helpless.

જ⁀➴

Luffy rarely dreamed when he slept. When he did dream, he never remembered it, the wild scenes fading seconds after he woke. 

Which is why he startled awake, hands clawing at his hammock, straw hat falling off his face and into his lap. He clung to the sound of your laughter, of your touch grazing his cheek, of the feel of your skin under his hands—

He didn’t dream often, but when he did, he often dreamt of you. 

He rubbed at his sleep crusted eyes and ached for the quickly fading memory. The finer details of the plot were soon lost on him, but he knew in this dream you were happy. Luffy liked those dreams much more than the more common ones where you cried, too far out of his reach to comfort.

“Luffy?” spoke Chopper, his voice hazy with sleep as he yawned. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Confused, Luffy realized he was gasping for air. “O–Oh, I’m fine, Chopper.” He glanced down from his hammock to offer the reindeer a trembling smile. “I’m good, really.”

Not buying it, Chopper huffed and stood from his own hammock, making quick work of climbing up to Luffy’s. He sat across from his captain, worry all over his furry face. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it.” He reached over to ruffle the tuft of fur between Chopper’s antlers. “Sorry for waking you.”

He smiled softly. “It’s okay.” Chopper started to snuggle into the fabric of the hammock, obviously having no intention of climbing back down. “I was having a bad dream too.”

Luffy leaned back, doing his best to calm his nerves enough to go back to sleep. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm. Nami was angry at me. It wasn’t fun.”

The captain laughed, promptly shut up by a voice from the hammock underneath. “Shut up, would ya?”

Chopper squeaked, “Sorry, Zoro.”

The swordsman sighed and rustled in his hammock. “It's fine. Go to bed.”

Soon Zoro’s snores filled the mens’ quarters, and Chopper’s calm breathing soon followed. Sanji and Usopp snored in tandem as well, till only Luffy remained awake, staring at the ceiling, trying desperately to recall his dream.

You couldn’t be happy, wherever you were. How long had it been? Far too long, though he wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed since he last saw you on the beach of Foosha Village. 

Would he recognize you? Would you recognize him? Luffy had to hope the answer was yes, and he had to hope one day he’d have the chance to rescue you, to set you free just as you freed him.

“I’ll find you,” he threatened the silence. “You can’t hide forever.”

Miles and miles away, kneeling on the sand, you swore you heard a familiar voice in the wind, but it couldn’t have been. You were halfway near drunk. That must've been it.

Luffy turned his head to look out the window of the cabin, and you tilted your chin to stare at the stars. The stars twinkled down on the both of you, promises and threats hung on the wind and sea that separated you. 

Some endings are always meant for tragedy. Some loves are meant for doom. It was how Fate worked. 

But Fate favored you and Luffy—forever working to save the other, forever aching for the day that would bring you side by side once again. 

>>

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @khaleesihavilliard

[sporadicthingcollection]

La faccia infarina (LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: In which Buggy swears at a child, draws on his face, and experiences a revelation. Pairing: LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: Semi-explicit. Word Count: ~1.4k. Warnings: Pregnancy mention, childbirth mention, a lot of swearing.

A/N: i'm ovulating so please enjoy an episode of what i like to call Reproducing With Men Who Should Not Be Trusted With Children.

Doing his makeup is much easier when there's no distractions to occupy him. Unfortunately, he's got a big one today and, for once, it isn't you trying to get into his pants.

Though that exact scenario is definitely what resulted in this new distraction. It was either that or the time after the party.

"Don't even think about it," Buggy says firmly.

Keeda grabs a drawer and tries to yank it open. A disembodied foot gently nudges him away. The boy stares at him in indignation, then blows a raspberry. He reaches again, whining when the foot still bars his way.

Buggy raises a brow at him. "Getting fresh, huh?" Another raspberry. "Floor privileges revoked."

He picks the boy up by the collar and plops him in his lap. He squeaks and squeals, trying to squirm away, but Buggy holds him tight.

"Y'know, I liked you better when you were a prop," he says. He swipes his lipstick along his cheeks. "You'd just lay there and make noises and shit yourself. None of this 'trying to kill yourself when I'm not looking' shtick."

Keeda resigns himself to his prison and is now pouting, making little huffs. He glances up with big, pleading eyes, lower lip quivering.

Buggy scoffs. "Don't try that pathos crap on me. I know what you look like when you're about to cry."

A long, low whine makes Buggy falter. Uh oh. He glances down.

Keeda lunges upwards, trying to grab the lipstick. Buggy pops his hand off just out of reach -- this is the expensive stuff. Can't have a baby eating it. Again.

"What's gotten into you today?" Keeda lunges again. Buggy pops his second hand off to cap the lipstick and stick it back in the drawer. "Sheesh, kid. Cool it."

"Bappo," Keeda says with a glare. Baby for pay attention to me, asshole, I'm right here.

A lightbulb goes off. He pulls a bag of pigment sticks from the drawer and dumps them onto the table. "You want your face done like Daddy's?" He spins the boy around to face the vanity. "Pick your war paint."

Keeda scans the selection and, with short chubby fingers, he selects a blue pigment stick. He then tries to shove it in his mouth, but Buggy grabs it before he can chomp it.

Buggy smiles as he regards the color. He was wearing this when he met you -- diamonds over his eyes as he tried to kill you. From hating his guts to fucking him stupid to bearing his child. How times change.

He takes the boy's cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. He can't believe he's still so damn small. A year in and he figured he'd be more... child-sized. Buggy's still afraid a strong breeze will shatter the kid like glass.

With gentle hands, he draws. Short strokes are best on soft, chubby skin with a lot of give. Keeda gazes at him all the while. He's got your eyes, warm and dark as charcoal.

Buggy licks his thumb and smooths out the edges. Keeda presses into his touch like a cat and gives him a smile, one that he can't help but return.

The idea of fatherhood terrified him. Horrified him. He thought about turning himself into the Marines right then and there. If his old captain couldn't do it, how could he be expected to do it? He's not half as competent as everyone seems to believe and you know he's a buffoon. Why would you want to have his kid?

Buggy finishes the diamonds and spins the boy to face the mirror. "Well?"

Keeda squints at himself. He touches his reflection. After a moment of contemplation, he speaks. "Fsshala."

He's been saying that a lot lately. You keep telling him that it's just nonsense babbling, but Buggy knows the truth.

"I agree," he says. "Let's make it flashy!"

He spins the boy back around, making him giggle. Truly the world's most remarkable sound.

He still doesn't have an answer for why you put yourself through nine months of pure terror. Was it your selfish desire for a family? Or did you see a truth hidden deep in his soul, so deep that he had no idea it existed until he held his son for the first time, still bright pink and howling?

Carefully, he traces two long lines up from the tips of the diamonds. He crosses them at the middle of his forehead, curls them into a heart, and adorns it with dots.

As is, Keeda looks more like you. Your dark hair, your dark eyes... and your nose, thank fucking god. He couldn't live with himself if his monstrosity was inheritable.

He was worried at first. How could he be sure that he's your son's father? He trusts you, but there was always that doubt gnawing at the back of his head until a few months in, when Keeda started getting expressive. In every giggle, in every glower, in every grin, there was Buggy the Clown.

Speaking of smiles, his mouth looks a little bare. A nice golden yellow would suit him.

Buggy picks up the pigment stick in one hand and smushes the boy's cheeks together with the other. "Pucker up, buttercup."

Keeda squirms a bit as he paints his mouth, swirling the corners up into cute little spirals. He licks his lips and sputters. "Pfeh!"

Buggy chuckles. "Weren't like that last week. You loved the stuff." He lifts the boy and spins him around to see his reflection. "Now you're lookin' more like your old man."

Keeda stares at himself. He tips his head one way, then the other. His eyes narrow and his brows furrow. He lets out a low, pensive whine.

Oh no. Does he not like it? Is he going to cry? Please don't cry. "Wait wait wait." He turns him around and lifts him to stand on his lap. "Don't get upset--"

A little spark flashes in the boy's eyes. The frown vanishes and he reaches up, tiny fingers grabbing for something.

Buggy's gotten enough hair ripped out to jerk away on impulse. "Something on my face?"

A tiny hand baps him on the nose. Buggy flinches. Fuckin' thing in the way again.

He angles his head, waiting for Keeda to tap what he was really aiming for. And again, he gets bapped right on the nose.

...no. There's no way.

Another bap, this time with an impatient glower. "Isso," Keeda says firmly. Baby talk for this.

Buggy's heart is in his throat as he picks up the red pigment stick. With shaky hands, he outlines the boy's nose -- a cute little button -- and draws a circle.

He swallows thickly. He clenches his jaw. He turns him around.

Keeda's eyes widen, then scrunch into crescents as he lets out a delighted squeal. "Papa!" he says, grinning up at Buggy. He flops backwards back into his lap, giggling and wiggling. "Papa!"

He's not sure how long he sits there at the vanity, listening to his baby chatter happily, but it must be awhile because you eventually come calling.

"Oh, there you guys are,” you say. "You chuckleheads having fun without me?"

"Amama!" Keeda stands in Buggy's lap and waves at you. He points at the mirror. "Issoooooo."

You appear at Buggy's shoulder, grinning brilliantly. "Aw, look at you," you croon. "Did Daddy do your makeup? Or did you get into his shit when he wasn't looking?"

Buggy's voice comes out in a tight croak. "I did it."

"Well, damn, it looks great! You never do my makeup that well--" Your gaze flickers to him in the mirror, and your smile vanishes. "...Are you crying?"

He sniffles. Loudly. "No."

You give him one of your do-you-need-a-psych-eval looks. "Bugs, your mascara's running."

Something hot and wet rolls down to his chin. "No, it's not."

You look at his reflection in the mirror, then back to him. "Either smile or cry. Doing both is freaking me out."

He wraps his arms around Keeda, pulling him close and squeezing him tight. "Fuckin' love you so much, you little shit," he murmurs into his hair.

Keeda squeals and giggles.

---

To the "Curious Courtship" Masterpost | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar

[zoropookie]

HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter thirty-eight — why couldn't it be mini-golf? (💋)

[[ALL WRITTEN CHAPTER]]

The dinner party was quiet for the first part.

But not the kind of quiet that would have made anyone into a bad type of uncomfortable. No, it was the kind of quiet that usually hangs heavy in the air with a clear path to stop it. But that path mentioned was definitely not going to be brought up anytime soon, nor even uttered.

The "path" being the eventual contemplation of both your and Kuni's relationship. Or..."relationship"? You had no idea. And frankly? You were too annoyed by Venti's chewing to even think about it right now.

There sat the bodies of Hu Tao, Thoma, Aether, Lumine, Heizou, Yanfei, Ayaka, Xiao, Kazuha, Venti, Kuni, and you at a very long table with what felt like it had no end in sight. Only sounds were the soft clinking of silverware against the china and the eventual murmur of someone to another. It was similar to faint ripples disturbing the surface of the pond.

Venti, seated next to you, was eating away with an unbothered look, feasting at his second dish of the hot pot with numerous amounts of meat. "Oh my god," He said with his mouth full, exaggerated smacks and crunches that seemed to echo louder than the previous ones, grating irritably on your nerves. "Brilliant. I mean, who came up with this?!"

"Been a thing for...forever, actually." Kuni's eyes dulled as he replied with the most unamused tone imaginable, swirling his chopsticks in the soup stock.

"Do you live under a rock?" Hu Tao's eyes narrowed, ever the lively one as she plopped a piece of well marinated pork in her mouth. "It's a common thing, not very new, dumbass."

"Ohhh, no. Don't go and try and make me look like the dumbass." Venti pointed. "Scara~ I know that you were too lazy to try and think of an actual dinner for us out of your busy schedule, but it really reminds me of how creative you can be anyway. I mean, a steamboat?! Your mind! Can I still call you Scara?"

"No." He replied flatly, not even looking up from his bowl.

"Where did you find this?" Venti marveled. "Genius invention, if I do say so myself. Like, watch this." And with that, he put the raw piece of beef inside of the boiling hot broth.

The beef had bubbled inside of the broth, cooking the meat almost instantly. The rich aroma was wafting throughout all of the visitor's nostrils, leaving a tempting bubble of juice that lightly coated the beef he pulled out, making your own mouth water despite your annoyance.

"You wanted to show us... you cooking meat?" Ayaka asked, her voice tinged in a genuine and curious way, wondering if there was an end confirmation to this. Unfortunately, there wasn't, and the rest of the table sighed.

"You know what guys, the art of cooking is lost on a lot of people, don't expect you to know about it. I wish that you could see how philosophical every thin slice that goes into your mouth is, but I'm not your own eyes." Venti threw his hands up in defense.

"Venti...when the pot is at a very high temperature, the meat inside of it usually tends to cook after a few seconds. That's how it works." Aether slowly told him, to which Hu Tao narrowed her eyes in a death-like stare.

"But what about the journey of that high temperature cooked meat?" Venti continued, his tone almost as philosophical as his aggravating chewing. "The laughs, the memories, the stories, preparing this meal together. That's...what makes this dinner more special than others. Our first."

"And our last." Kuni rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed. "I didn't let you guys into my house just for him to give us a TED Talk on the importance of family time. Just eat the fucking food and save us the theatrics."

"There's no point, he's just going to keep at it." Yanfei sighed in defeat. "He knows what he did. This will never end as long as we're all alive."

"Yeh? What did I do that was that awful?" Venti raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a pout. "Because what I did do was put those two together at a dinner table right now. You're welcome, by the way." He poked the direction towards you and Kuni.

"He's got a point..." Thoma let out a small chuckle, gaze flicking to the both of you. "You're both being civil right now. Most times you'd just try to bite your tongue whenever you were around each other."

"That's so not true." You scoffed. "I'd say I was very civil. Me, at least. Can’t say the same about others."

"Yeah? Throwing me under the bus now?" Kuni shot you a withering glare. "You asked me out first, don't think I don't remember when we were about to get in the car."

"Hey, quick tip for when you're stuck in conversations you don't want to be in: being proactive helps. Being a fake flirt helps. Someone had to break the ice, and it wasn't going to be you." You shrugged.

"By flirting with me?"

"I mean, it got your attention, didn't it?" Hu Tao replied, leaning back in her chair. "You're smitten."

"I am not smitten. I have intense feelings that should be mutual." His eyebrow quirked up, a hint of amusement softening his features. No matter how defensive his tone was, he knew he couldn't believe anything he said. "You shouldn't be chastising me anyway. I already made myself clear before you got here that I hate the shady shit."

"And I made myself clearer that I didn’t want anything from you right now, no?" You retorted immediately, head shooting towards him with a glare, tone clipped and snippy. "You'd be smart not to bring it here."

Tension rose to a great extent as your words began to make everyone uncomfortable, with the exceeding silence and awkwardness that ruminated between you and Kuni. It was pretty much just the two of you that were giving off an aura like no other. Safe to say that even Venti's attempt of getting the both of them to ease up from what they eventually have to do was a failure.

You glanced at Venti after he began to start moaning despite this, and sighed inwardly. Only he of all people could manage to make eating a piece of meat sound like something else. You threw your chopsticks back on the table, it causing a metallic thud. "Alright. I think I'm done."

"I'm sorry that I'm trying to bring liveliness that you all lack right now. Why is so quiet anyway?" Venti asked, his eyes looking around at everyone's suddenly shifted demeanor.

"You shouldn't be encouraging Venti to be loud, Thoma." Lumine hesitated in her words, trying to disengage the situation. "Let's just do an exercise. We'll say something really nice about the person next to us, and if you have nothing to say, you're going to stay here and help Kuni pick apples as a summer job."

Heizou shot up immediately, slamming his hands down on the table. "I have nothing nice to say about anyone here. Fuck all of you."

"Fat fucking chance. Sit your ass back down." Kuni snarled.

Kazuha frowned, furrowed brow betraying his own confusion. "What did we do...?"

Lumine squinted at him, taken aback by his words before pressing her lips together. "You have to play the game first to decide that, jackass."

“Well, this game already isn’t very fun.” Heizou blurted, saltily sitting back down. “Easy enough for nobody to jump me here though, I’ll take all the compliments I can get.”

"I’m glad that Kazuha and Thoma are sitting next to you and not me.” Hu Tao’s eyes dulled. “I’d blow my brains out before I ever compliment a child trafficker.”

“Okay, good thing we’re not starting with you, then.” Lumine argued with the both of them. “Fuck,” She muttered under her breath, composing herself before she had to speak again. “Then, since you’re one of the last letters of the alphabet, You go first, Xiao.”

Xiao picked his head up, his sharp eyes scanning for the person next to him who just so happened to be Venti. “Oh,” He paused, the rest of the table waiting for his response as Venti excitedly bounced in his seat. “I don’t want to play.”

Venti’s shoulders dropped. “Are you kidding? C’mon, you can’t think of anything?”

“Said he doesn’t want to play, this is our group therapy dinner where consent is the Hail Mary. No compliments for you, too bad, so sad.” Hu Tao stuck her tongue out playfully.

“Your attitude right now is the main reason that one of these days you’re going to get scammed so bad by a pyramid scheme that you’re actually going to start believing the Tupperware you’re selling is valuable. It’s not. It never will be.” Venti squinted.

Hu Tao sat there for a minute, looking into the other’s eyes before scrunching her nose up. “Are you okay? That was extremely specific.”

The rest of the table was silent, until Lumine sighed quietly. “Okay…Xiao, can you at least try to come up with something so we can move on? You don’t have to do it again, this is just a one time thing.”

“I’m grateful,” Yanfei gritted her teeth inwardly. “Never thought I’d have to be genuine anytime soon. Why couldn’t it be mini golf?”

He let out a slow breath, clearly reluctant to even participate in this obviously forced exercise. The more he stalled, though, the longer it was going to take to ebb how uncomfortable it is. “Venti,” He began, voice steady but devoid of emotion. “Your music is very refined.”

Venti clutched at his own heart, making a sound like he just got punched in the gut. “I’ll take it. That’s so cute of you.”

“Yeah! This is a really good exercise for us! We haven’t gotten the time to really appreciate each other as friends.” Thoma smiled. “Go ahead, Venti! Say something nice about (Y/N)!”

“Right.” Venti turned his head to you, trying to fully grasp what he wanted to say. It left eye contact with him very unsettling. “Hm…no matter what happens to you, you’ve still proven that you deserve what you have. Keeping that energy lead you to many people wanting to be around you in result. You should be grateful for that.”

You couldn’t help but stiffen at his words, letting out a small smile tug at your mouth in return. “That really means a lot, Venti. Thank you.”

You took a minute to sink in Venti’s words before you slowly turned to the person who you dreaded giving a compliment to right now— Kuni sat there perfectly. His head rested gently on his head as he leaned against the table with his elbow.

“You…” You stammered on your words, trying to look in your mind for something, anything, you could say that wouldn’t compromise your position. But you knew that despite everything, you liked him a lot. He did prove that he was into you a long time ago, you just didn’t want to admit it. “I like…uh…”

You were unsure how to respond. And Kuni knew that too, so he took the lead. “I think you’re the only person who’s brought me joy in more than just a platonic situation. Being around you is something special to me, I’d rather it not go to waste fighting.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, wanting to look agitated, but his words were so genuine that you were put on the spot. You felt tears brimming up in your eyes in return, trying to hold your eyes open to shun them away, only resulting in them returning tenfold.

You quickly stood up from your seat, bitterness running down like waterfalls. “Excuse me.” You murmured, before rushing off to an undisclosed room.

The rest of the table was silent after that, looking around at each other awkwardly. From what was supposed to be a comfortable exercise turned into something entirely worse than expected. Especially since they all had a feeling that it would go wrong with you sitting next to him.

Kuni groaned, his head hanging and his back pressed firmly against the chair. “Fuck,” He drawled, feeling his patience wear thing. “So fucking annoying.”

“Go after them.” Thoma said amongst the quiet, a warm smile on his face. He knew that even though he wanted to go himself, there was someone who was planning to be with you for a very long time. “You’re good. We’ll all be here when you come back.”

Kuni hesitated, to which Kazuha smiled and nodded. “You said you had Mario Kart, right? We can just play that if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, fuck yeah!” Hu Tao was one of the first people to stand up, shooing Kuni off with her manicured hand. “Go. Bye! We’re going trashing on your expensive equipment for three hours.”

No matter how much he wanted to kick everyone out, he was given a small reminder as to how they’re the main reason why you haven’t given up on him. Unfortunately. So he didn’t say anything, leaving towards his bedroom, the same room he heard you lightly sobbing in.

The room both of you found yourselves in were dimly lit and a complete contrast from the kitchen. It was quiet, but the quiet here was different and heavy and thick— almost suffocating him. You sank down into a plush armchair sat in the corner of his room, sitting in silence with yourself until now.

You didn’t bother looking up to see who it was, you knew who it was. Kuni’s footsteps were light and soft enough to tell you that, he took the seat opposite you, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. You were forced to look at him.

He looked beautiful from up close, his features naturally pairing together with the rest of his face. His jawline a perfect structure, his eyes soft enough for you to stare into his violet pools. His hair light and feathery, strands of it sticking in small clusters.

“Tell me what’s going on.” He sat back, mustering up a mix of concern and patience on his face. “I already told you I’m not going to fight with you anymore.”

You wiped your eyes candidly, the back of your hand leaving residue of your tears. A hiccup broke your speech, “That’s the problem, isn’t it?” Your wetted eyelashes brushed against your cheeks as your eyes squeezed shut. “You’re too patient now.”

“Didn’t learn it in a night.” He absorbed your words like they were all that he was able to get in that moment. “I mean, I still have no idea why you came around even this quick. You don’t have a reason to stay by my side as much as I do for you.”

“Oh, of course. Because it’s always different for you. You’re still trying, just like you did when you hated me, it’s confusing. You’re so…fucking confusing.” You looked up again, meeting his eyes with defeat. He was going to be in your life whether it was a friend or a lover, and with the more days that pass with him in it, you start to feel yourself teeter back and forth. “You’re not going to give up, are you?” Your voice was weak.

His eyes never left your face, tentatively taking your hand in his. “I had to get used to the idea of potentially never seeing or talking to you again when I left.” He paused, sincerity striking his face, more of an intense look than usual. “I never want to go through that again so long as I owe it to you. It’s cowardice, and I’d rather face you myself.”

“When will you not owe it to me?” Your heart was hurting, beating faster than it could ever. “I never wanted you to be indebted to me, you did that because you felt guilty, so just squash it already.”

At every second he stayed quiet, the brighter it dawned on you his intentions. He wanted to be by your side as long as possible. “Then it’s all done,” You stared at the hand holding yours, his warmth and steady hands with his skin slightly bulging with his veins, a black ring on his middle finger. “No more games. No more pretenses,” He said calmly. “I want you. More than I wanted anything.”

“Yeah.” You said slowly, a sense of cautious hope blooming in your chest. “I think I kind of do too.”

Swallowing hard, you tried to gather your own sense of resolve here. But all that you were able to even think about was how close he was to you…and the fact that you wanted to suck his face off.

The silence this time was a comforting one, understanding of each other that was unspoken for. He leaned in close to your face, the heat of his breath slowly lingering on your skin, making you ache in a passion you’ve never felt before even when Childe was trying to pursue you.

“Can I?” He whispered.

The breath you had was swept away by his tantalizing voice, nodding slowly at his request. It wasn’t like the last time where the anger and frustration was taken out on the love they pressed into the kiss. No, this one felt a lot better than you ever would have imagined.

The kiss that followed with your words was fluffy at first, the meeting of lips that quickly grew deeper as the months and months of progress they put into their entire history together was no longer at its standstill anymore. His hands snaked across your body, also with an aching desire nestled in his chest.

He tasted amazing on your lips, and you pressed yourself against him in a swift movement, swapping seats gradually. You were dazed, if your eyes could have hearts in them, they would have already.

You didn’t recoil, or protest, or fight him every step of the way anymore. Your tongues danced together in a passionate tango, its foreign-like actions to you making your eyes bleary with love. You were melting into him, no matter how much you didn’t want to give him that satisfaction.

It looks like you have a lot more to explain to your fans than expected.

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo

@justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @kunisnaomi

@keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi

@kyon-cherri @b4tm4nn @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles

@kookiibun @ulquiorraswife @amvpk01 @simplysm1le @h3xi2g0n3

@alatusorrow @scaranthropy @mellowberrie @magica-ren @vernith

@kabukipookie @bananasquash @suqarlaced @dellalyra @lightyagamifan

@yourfavoritefreakyhan @heartsforseo @yomishen @pwushizz @swivy123

@strxwberryfetish @ibyobi @ashfrommars4 @chemiru @ainnofinway

@agaygothicmushroom @levianamor @dragontammerz @wth121 @lylovw

@morgyyyyyyy @lovemari @suniika @littlesliceofcheese @yumejo89

@liuaneee @franaby @tiddieshakeshownu @mimi3lover @kavineyah

@kittywagun (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)

[alexa-fika]

Hi schools getting better btw kids are annoying but sometimes they say something that changes your life 🥺

Okay, so you did child!Dracula!Reader with the whitebeard pirates and the red-haired pirates how about the Hart pirates

I kinda want to see law interaction with child!Dracula!Reader

And I think child!Dracula!reader loves animals so his and Bepo's interaction will be adorable

🐼💕~

Lost Again? ( Heart Pirates x gn!child!Dracule!Reader)

A/N Y’ll I am not exaggerating when I tell you that I have this done for two days but I kept staring at the screen thinking on how to continue and I was to hell with this 😂, it’s good the way it is. Hopefully you guys agree and you like it this way! IM SORRY SPIDER

Here Reader is replaced by Dokusha which means reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

Law stared at the sight in front of him, glancing between his navigator and the small child in his hands

“Bepo, what did you do?” he grits out

The mink fidgeted around, repositioning the winged child to give his captain a better view of them

“I found them…”

“Why the hell did you bring them here?!”

“Sorry!”

“Don’t be mean to Mister Bear!” The child huffs, glaring at the Doctor

“Aw, C’mon, Captain!” Shachi exclaimed, walking closer to the Bear Mink and grabbing the child

“They’re cute!“ Penguin grins

They grin at Shachi, clapping their hands joyously

Shachi immediately holds them close to his chest hugging them.

“Captain! Can we keep them?” Shachi’s eyes sparkle.

“Misters can’t keep me im Papa’s!”

“Whose your father?” the Captain asked, walking a bit closer to them.

“Papa!”

The captain sighed at the child's response.

"Fine. We'll take care of you until we can find your father. Bepo, where did you find this child?"

"I was collecting herbs when I saw them behind a bush."

"Bring them inside,” he huffs, turning and entering the submarine, the others following after him

Dokucha suddenly wiggles out Shachi’s grasp, flying toward one of the bulletin boards that stood in the lounging area

“That’s Papa!” They proclaim, happily pointing toward the picture of a wanted poster

Shachi and Penguin both rush over to the wanted sign, the latter immediately recognizing whose wanted photo the child had.

“This… Is your father?….” Penguin mutters, sweat beginning to form on his head as he stares at the picture, turning around to address Bepo

“Bepo, you just found the child of Hawkeye!” he hisses out

Law had been watching the scene play out beside them. Realizing Bepo had found the child of one of the most dangerous men, he hurried over to the bulletin board.

“That's your Father?” he inquired, glancing between the child and the Wanted photo.

“Mmhm!”

Law was silent, his eyes narrow as he looked back at the Wanted Poster that was filled with a picture of his fellow Warlord. An overwhelming sense of frustration washed over him, making the man’s brows furrow.

He groans, pressing the bridge of his nose at the situation they had found themselves at

"Your father... Is him? Of all people?." He glared at the wanted flyer before turning to the child, who seemed unaware of how serious the situation was.

“Yep!”

“W-What are we going to do, Cap?” Bepo inquires nervously

“I'm thinking,” he growls, closing his eyes

“Hey, what’s your name?” asks Penguin, looking at the child

“I ‘m Dokucha!”

Law opens his eyes and looks at his crewmates

“This might work in our favor.”

“How so?” Shachi questions

“We might be able to negotiate; reports say that Mihawk was spotted in our next destination; we can exchange The kid for safe passage.”

All four of them were silent for a while, contemplating the situation. The idea may have been risky; there was no telling how Mihawk would react. And what would happen if something went wrong? But on the other hand, what could be gained if they were successful? A chance to evade the Marines and get to the next island.

“That’s a risky option…” Bepo hesitantly states, “It’s Mihawk after all…”

Dokucha looks up, amazed at the roof of the polar tang, flying their way up and watching the numerous tubes and mechanisms that littered it

Law glances at the child, who begins drifting away while looking, and he sighs, taking a small rock from his pocket

“Room,” he mutters as a blue began enveloping the lounge.

“Shambles,” he said, grabbing at the child once it had changed places with the rock

“Don’t drift off,” he grumbles

They look around, confused from the sudden change in position, looking up at his words and giggling

“Sorry~”

The captain was silent for a moment, looking at the child. He couldn't help it; he smirked.

“It’s fine. Just try not to drift off,” he says before returning his focus back to his crewmates

“Shachi, you and Penguin begin prep work for our voyage. Bepo, watch the child while I get into contact with Hawkeye,” he said, handing the child to the mink

“Papa?” The child questions

“I want to talk to Papa, too!”

“Not yet; I have to discuss something important with him; you will see him soon.”

“Awe,” they whine, cuddling closer to the bear and watching the captain walk away

“What’s Mister Bear’s name?” they ask, looking up at the polar bear

“I ‘m Bepo”

Okay now that I look at it it’s not really a bad point to stop the story right? 😭

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[liaspenandpaper]

The Dame for the Gentlemen in Distress 

Your life begins to spiral down when you decided to accept the hands of your childhood friend-turned pirate who invited you to be part of his crew while the said crew set the town in fire.

You haven't seen Seonghwa in years after him leaving their village with the hope of being a marine. Even if you were opposed to it, you thought that you have no rights to stop your friend from achieving his dream.

TW: This story contains themes of abuse (physical, emotional, and sexual), graphic violence, threats of harm, trauma, exploitation, and bullying. Reader discretion is advised.

This is purely fiction and no means represents Ateez’s members in real life.

Lia's Note: English is not my first language, so this might contain grammatical errors. Please bare with me. Love lots.

In front of you is the biggest ship you had ever laced your eyes upon. The ship has this ominous presence that makes a normal person like you, uneasy.

ATEEZ

Your eyes widened from the recognition of the name. Ateez is the new yet most fearful pirate crew that sails in the vast ocean. You couldn't believe that Seonghwa would become part of this deadly crew and just forget his dreams of being a general.

As you stepped your foot on the deck, you contemplate if you would just jump off from the ship, the moment you saw the rest of the crew members. They were all bloody, you’re not sure if those bloods were theirs or not (you’re pretty sure it's not).

"Now, what do we have here? I guess you've picked some stray, my dear," a short man whose hair was split into two shades, the other part black and the other white said with scrutinizing eyes in your direction. You found the nickname a bit amusing, but shrugged your curiosity away, since it not your place to pry.

"She's the one I've been telling you about, Joong. She's Y/N, my friend," you looked at Seonghwa as he introduced you with so much excitement to his crew hoping they would greet you warmly, but as you looked backed at them, they only stared at you with contempt, which is unfortunately haven't noticed by Seonghwa. You immediately knew that your presence is not welcome.

"Joong, I asked of you. She has nowhere to go. I just can't leave her alone. I beg you to let her come with us," Seonghwa held the man whom he called "Joong". You can see the shift of his expression as he is now looking at Seonghwa. Joong's expression now held some fondness to it, so different from the way he looked at you.

"Of course, my dear. Your little friend can stay, but I expect her to not just become a mouth to be fed," he answered and emphasized the last part of his words.

"She can stay as long as she's not useless or I'll kill her and feed her to the sharks."

You gulped as you interpret his words. He must be the captain, you concluded, because as all of them are scary and intimidating, this little guy exceeds a more authoritative vibes than the others.

"Thank you, Captain!" Seonghwa looked at your direction with so much joy, you reluctantly offered a smile as you saw the other's sour mood.

Damn this will be difficult. You thought.

🥀

"Hey, you clean the dishes,"

You sighed. It's been a week since you boarded Twilight, Ateez's ship, and you never stop regretting coming along with Seonghwa.

It's been a week and the rest of the crew never treated you like a human being, rather a monkey whom they can just order around. You don’t have any complaints on helping around the ship, instead you like it. You don’t want to become a burden to the crew, but them treating you like equal would be very much appreciated.

"Are you even listening to me?" Wooyoung snapped his fingers at your face and it seemed to do the job as you muttered an apology and started to clean the hell of a mess in the kitchen.

"Tsk. Can't even do her job right," you heard Wooyoung said, and it made your heart sank a little bit.

You believed that you haven’t been a freeloader in the ship, you followed every task they've assigned to you. You wiped every grime on the areas of the ship that has accumulated for years that Seonghwa could not clean because of the hectic schedule he has. You cooked them meals and put all your knowledge when you were working as a cook to a pub since you were twelve. However, those weren't appreciated by the crew except Seonghwa of course. They always have a say, they didn't do it or say anything in front of Seonghwa, but they do it behind his back. You’re just glad you have the patience and mindset of your father, because your nature to say anything without thinking placed you to difficult situations before and you don’t want that to happen right now, so you try your best to shut your mouth.

As you were now washing the dirty dishes someone entered the kitchen. You checked who it was and it was Hongjoong.

"Making yourself quite useful, huh?" Hongjoong gave you a smirk, a smirk so belittling it triggers the sleeping irritation inside you. Among the crew members, you find Hongjoong the most insufferable. As you learned all of their names, associate them by their hair colors, you also learn that Hongjoong loves Seonghwa, not just a friend but more beyond that and is not shy of displaying his jealousy after you and Seonghwa interacted. Not just Hongjoong actually, but the entire crew is jealous every time Seonghwa talks to you.

It's not that uncommon to have multiple partners, but it shocked you a little that Seonghwa has seven lovers. All of them so possessive they could bite your head off of if they want.

You didn't reply to Hongjoong, since you don’t know what to say. He approached you in the sink and leaned on the counter, staring at you menacingly.

"I swear if you’re doing this or anything to seduce, my Seonghwa, I will not hesitate to throw you off from this ship," His voice quiet but it didn't fail to make you shiver. What he said is absurd and nonsense, but you were afraid that if he became blinded by jealousy, he will really do it with no hesitation.

"I am not interested in Seonghwa, Captain. He is my friend whom helped me find a place to belong to. I owe him my life, so I am doing my best to not be a burden to his crew and it didn’t even graze my mind to seduce him, that would be weird," you calmly said, proud of yourself of not sounding too scared of him.

"Besides, Seonghwa is too in love to all of you to bat eye to another person. He already has 7 lovers that he could pin on, so why get jealous?" as much as you don’t want to ran your mouth carelessly, unfortunately your mouth was faster than your brain this time.

Hongjoong’s expression grimaced and you knew you’re screwed. Hongjoong stepped closer to you, so dangerously close and grabbed your arm tightly. You’re pretty sure it will leave an awful bruise later.

"You're a clueless little mouse, aren't you? Don't speak to me like you are a part of the crew, and remember your place. Better keep your distance to Seonghwa or I'll kill you," he lets go of you and left the kitchen, banging the door behind him.

"Possessive freaks," You muttered under her breath as she continued her task.

🥀

You heeded Hongjoong's warning-slash-threat. You kept your distance to Seonghwa, muttering an excuse every time he speaks to you. Of course, your friend wasn't an idiot. Seonghwa is not oblivious to his crewmate’s behavior towards his friend. He often scolds them every time they treated you badly, but one thing Seonghwa doesn't know, is that the more he scolded them, the brewing hatred towards her keeps boiling near its highest point.

It was a month later when they finally can't handle their jealousy anymore. They collectively didn't know why they just can't ignore you. It's not like you were seducing Seonghwa as what they have been saying, it just that your presence was an abnormality, now they don't know how to act normally.

They're not sure if it was amusement that they've been feeling from the start, masking it with jealousy to hide the fascination to finally meet their lover's friend that he told them about. They knew you are important to Seonghwa, that even after all these years he held you dear in his heart. But they can't help to act harshly towards you, seeing Seonghwa's eyes lit every time you’re around and they were threatened of you.

Questions that they can't answer starts to float around their head and it hunts them, the uncertainty of what the future holds hunts them. However, their not-so-ill feelings towards you might compromise your safety.

“Hongjoong, it’s dangerous to let her come with us! She doesn’t even know how t—” Seonghwa couldn’t finish his words as he was anxiously pacing around Hongjoong’s quarter.

“Then she should start to learn how to, right? It’s not that some of us trained to fight either, we learned as we fight,” it was Yunho.

“You don’t understand, I’m not saying she couldn’t f——” Seonghwa was cut off again when Wooyoung interrupted.

“What do we don’t understand, hyung? If you want her to stay with us then she should also fight right? We only have each other, she can at least learn how to defend herself, since I won’t,” Wooyoung bitterly said.

You are just listening from the corner of the room, and you can’t help yourself, but to say something, “I can go,” you interrupted, you can’t let the crew fight over trivial things, so you decided to intervene a little.

“I can fight. I can defend myself. Let me go with you,” you firmly said to them, with your resolve and determination not once wavered. Seonghwa sighed in defeat, thinking his crewmates will regret letting you go with them.

“That’s the spirit! Who knows if you proved yourself enough, I could consider you as a crew of Ateez?” you knew Hongjoong isn’t being sincere, but you can’t just pass this opportunity to prove yourself more. That you deserve to be a part of Ateez.

🥀

Jongho handed you a sword, and you gladly received it.

“Thank you, Jongho.”

He didn’t reply, as you expected, but the lack of words from the guy didn’t affect your mood at all. Jongho wasn’t a talker, as you’ve observed. He prefers to listen and only engage to more important discussion, never much on casual banters.

You continued to stare at the weapon on your hand. The sword was well kept, and you’re thankful that it is a sword that fits you like a glove. Just the right size and weight for you.

Their mission was to infiltrate a banquet held by a corrupt lord of an island, who’s abusing his power and authority to rule over the indigenous and original settlers of the island. And you learned again that Ateez’s nature is to steal from those who steal.

For the government and for the normal folks, Ateez’s means of doing things are considered immoral, illegal, and wrong at every angle, but to those people whom they’ve helped, they are seen as heroes, a light who brings hope.

“Y/N you don’t have to do this,” Seonghwa hasn’t stopped pleading you to change your mind, but his pleading only went to deaf ears.

“I’m not the same fifteen-year-old girl you knew, Seonghwa. I too have shared fair number of moments where I have to defend myself, if I couldn’t, I would never be here in front of you,” you said firmly. It is indeed true, from the years when Seonghwa was absent from your life, things went haywire, and it forced you to do things in order to survive. There were no gray areas, it’s either kill or to be killed, what you mean is that you could either be sold off to men and be their sex slaves or kill those men.

“I don’t mean that, you know? I know you can fight, Y/N. I would even bet my life you can take me on a fight and win fairly. It is not you I’m worried at, you know what I mean right?”

The both of you shared a knowing look. Shaking your head, you told him, “Don’t worry, Hwa. I won’t let loose,” you promised.

Oh, boy you speak too soon.

🥀

“SOMEBODY STOP HER!” Mingi shouted as he fights someone. His pleas fell into deaf ears as you continued to bash the head of the guy who’s groping a young girl earlier. He is the last guy you’ve beaten up, so you make sure you did a number on him.

When the nine of you arrived in the banquet, it was full of old men and young children. The scene that you’ve arrived with was so disgusting it almost made you throw up all of the food you ate earlier.

These men were feasting to these children, making them sit in their laps, touching their bodies, kissing them in areas that old men shouldn’t lay their hands on. Pictures flashed in your minds, the scenes where you rescued young children from the hands of those rich filthy bastards whose past time are getting off watching children get mauled by other men. It made you sick to the stomach, seeing the traumatized faces of those children that mirrors the looks on the children here on the island.

The disgust suddenly turns into anger and the moment your hand touches your sword, you let your instinct took over your body until you were snapped from your trance when you hear voices calling out your name.

“FUCK! SHE’S FUCKING INSANE! Y/N! DON’T CRUSH HIS HEAD!” Hongjoong yelled in a distance, then you see yourself straddling a bloody man with a bloodied wine bottle in your hand. You weren’t satisfied enough since the man is still conscious, you’ve done this a lot to know when he’s dying, but he’s far from it, so you continued pounding the bottle to his head.

“JONGHO, RESTRAIN HER!” Jongho kicked the man he was fighting and ran towards you. You felt him pry you away from the poor guy you’ve fixated on.

“Y/N that’s enough, you’ll end up killing him.”

You straightened yourself and glanced around. Everything’s a mess, but the man’s face below you is messier. “Crap, are we not supposed to kill any?” you asked Jongho with genuine concern, “I didn’t kill any, right?” you added. Of course, you knew you didn’t, you just asked for courtesy.

Jongho sighed before answering, “Yes, we’re not supposed to kill anyone, Y/N, and fortunately you didn’t kill anyone from your savagery earlier,” he handed you a cloth that seemed to be a handkerchief.

You hesitantly accepted it, but nevertheless you used it to wiped your face as per Jongho pointed out, “You look like you’ve been in a blood rain, wipe your face, can you?” he said. You smiled from the gesture and realized that this has been the longest he’s spoken to you.

“You’re crazy, I like it,” he said to you before walking towards the others. You feel the pride swelling in your heart. Hearing Jongho somewhat acknowledging you was very rewarding, so you ran and catch up to him as you two reached where the rest of the crew was.

“Y/N! What did I say about losing control? I knew bringing you here was a terrible idea,” The joy you felt earlier suddenly switched. Seonghwa’s look of disappointment to you reminded you of the past where he is always scolding you from being too much.

“Yeah, and thanks to her we almost compromised our mission,” San said in a huff, and you see him rolling his eyes to you. Guilt starts to eat you as you see their annoyed and disappointed faces, except Jongho who said, “Guys, she didn’t compromise the mission, if not for her we wouldn’t subjugated Lord Kwon,” he pointed out the man whom you left just earlier.

“She single-handedly fought with Kwon’s guard, she deserved to be praised, is she not?” Jongho added.

Ateez’s dynamic never seems to amaze you, as you see how Jongho’s words affect the others. He may be the youngest in Ateez, but his words still held authority. All of them values each other’s opinion and that is one of their traits that you admire and one of the reasons you learned to respect them. Yes, Hongjoong is their captain, but the rest have their rights to voice their suggestions and concern.

“Seonghwa, I think you might have forgotten to mention that our little mouse here is a trained fighter, and not just your damsel in distress,”

“She wasn’t trained, Joong, she has to, or she would have ended up like the children we’re rescuing from, years ago.”

[fanaticsnail]

You Kissed the Clown? Part 15 (CONCLUSION)

It's over. It's finished: the one-shot that turned into a 15 part mini-series. I have enjoyed this journey so much with you all. Thank you for taking the time to read my work and give me pointers on navigating Tumblr formatting. It's been fun.

Part 14 here, Masterlist here.

Word Count: 4,671

Damp clothes clutched to every crevasse of your body as you lay on the warm sand beneath the rising sun. You continued to laugh at yourself as you caught your breath upon the shore; the waves lapping at your toes as the tide continued to fall away into the sea.

You hoisted yourself up onto your elbows, gazing into the retreating form of Nezumi’s mouse-like figure head as it continued to vanish into the open ocean. A sigh escaped your lips as you checked over your completely soaked clothes and begun to feel overwhelmed with the coastal breeze against the weight of the material.

“Clearly, I didn’t think this through very well,” you thought to yourself, chastising your actions as the consequences now cling against your skin and weigh you down, “where did I put my satchel? Which tree was it again?”

You rose to a sitting position before attempting to bring yourself to your feet, under the weighted material. Brushing your damp hair from your face, you rose to your feet and began to search for the tree you placed your equipment from the Going Merry against as you rigged the explosive on Nezumi’s ship. The material of your skirts slapped against your thighs and calves, beginning to fall slightly at your hips under the weight; your tinkering tool-belt only offering a small amount of support to keep it upright against your waist.

Huffing out a breath again at your prior actions, you hoisted the bottom of the skirt into your hands; picking up a sprint on the dampened sands below your feet. As your feet staggered against the forever moving grit of the beach, you stumbled a little as you continued on towards the tree you left your equipment against.

The tree swayed within the breeze as your bag lay secure and waiting for your return. You sighed in relief and began to shed the many damp layers from your body, remaining in your undergarments, and draping them against one of the horizontal branches protruding from the tree. Squinting your eyes, you looked towards the yellow, rising sun and nodded your head at the indication of the time.

You huffed out a breath to collect yourself while bracing your arms against your chest to warm your ribs, whispering to yourself; “where did I put that talc rock again?”

You heard a loud explosion as if a large building had been toppled inland, your eyes widening at the reverberations. Your gaze drifted back to the road leading towards the town where you sprinted down after docking the Going Merry.

“I hope they’re alright,” you uttered in a small voice, allowing your thoughts to trail off into what would’ve happened should you had remained with your crew. Continuing to trail your arms over your torso, you began to contemplate whether it would be a wise choice to redress yourself over your semi-damp clothes or allow them to dry naturally in the breeze.

Given the indication of the explosion inland, you began to sift through your bag for something loose and appropriate; unaware of the approaching presence behind you.

-

“Where are you, Baby?” Buggy murmured franticly to himself from the small pillar of sand as he reached the coast; the peer off to the left. As his eyes met with the ship docked against it, his eyes bulged at the sight. He clutched his chest to catch his breath up with the rest of him, overexerting his body in its sprint from Arlong Park to the coastline.

“Marines,” he hissed in shock, maneuvering his gaze around the dunes in search for any indication you were alive and close by. From the corner of his eye, he spots a small flutter of material draped against a tree. “Your skirt?”, he thought to himself, his body propelled forward by his will; not allowing him to fully catch his breath against the trees surrounding him.

“Don’t be dead. Please, don’t be dead,” he repeated in his mind over and over again. The look from the swordsman and the expression on the cook’s face had no indication on why you had separated from them, leaving him with very little to work with in his constant state of overthought.

Heavy footsteps trailed against the sand, the weight shifting the coarse substance beneath his feet, prompting him to stumble clumsily over in his stride. Using his hands, knees and feet to drive him forward, limbs continually succumbing under the unstable sand from the dunes below, he spies your body rising from a hunched position; a towel clutched in your grasp.

“There she is. There’s my girl,” he cooed in his mind; reminiscent of the time he finally confessed his affections for you with Cabaji. Cheeks flushed from exhaustion, he became overwhelmed with relief as he raked his eyes over your body in search of affliction or injury. He then realised how exposed you were, eyes bulging for the second time in the span of five minutes.

-

You began to dab at your face with the plush towel you found within your satchel, sighing as the sand managed to be rid from your body since locating and using the talc-powder you made for Buggy a few days prior. You wrung your hair out over your right shoulder and watched the droplets fall onto the sand as you felt something warm falling over your shoulders. Flinching at the unknown presence, you began to panic and shrug at the material; only to find two strong arms circle around your shoulders and hold you against a warm torso.

“Easy, sweets,” a voice whispered against your left ear as you felt lips kiss your upper helix, “just trying to get you warm.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, your voice managing to whisper a soft; “Buggy?”

“Here in the flesh,” he chuckled against your wet hair, moving his lips against your hairline, “with all my parts accounted for.”

You turned around in his arms to face him, gaze trailing from his mustard-coloured cravat hanging loosely from his throat; noting no lines indicating a prior severance of his head from atop his shoulders. Your eyes trailed up to meet with the blue-green hues you had come to adore, laying half-lidded behind his large, red nose.

He placed his gloved hands atop your shoulders as he bore his gaze down against your own irises. Reaching his left hand up to your hair, he flicked the damp ends away from your face and righthand side of your neck to trail down the back of his camel-coloured jacket, away from your face.

“How long do we have?” he asked, flittering his gaze between your two eyes and triangulating his gaze down to meet with your parted lips, “I just want to hold you one last time before you go.”

You furrowed your brows and shook your head slightly; “Buggy-.”

“-I just want you-,” he cut you off, bringing his gloved right hand to smooth over the back of your redrying hair, “-for as long as I can before you go back to them.”

“Buggy-,” you said a little more firmly, hoping to break him away from his intrusive thoughts and dialogue to inform him of your choice. You were met with no such hope of explanation before he stooped his neck low to meet your face.

Without allowing you to complete your sentence, your lips were met with the red-tint of the clown you so adored, noting his eyes immediately closed upon impact with a subtle glisten of a whispering tear at the corner of his eyes as he held you in his arms.

His kiss was soft, loving: gentle. All of those things you were not anticipating as he laid his desires out to you a few days prior. You began slowly closing your eyes and relaxing in his arms, lacing your hands around his waist; dragging slightly from his ribs before they settled around his back. You felt his breath hitch as he melted into your touch, a soft whimper escaping his lips as you held him against yourself. Pressing open mouthed kisses against his lips, you began to sooth him by rubbing soft circles against his lower back with your hands in reassurance.

“Please,” he whispered against your lips as he trailed his gloved hand over your hair to rest on either side of your cheeks, “please stay with me.” He whimpered a small noise from between his lips as his grasps and kisses became desperate; trying to pull you against him with more force to brace his body with yours: “I can’t live without you.”

His voice was muffled against your lips, but you felt his sob all the same. You began to giggle at his words against his mouth, noting he stiffened against you at your reaction. He broke from your lips and bore a frown at you, his eyes glaring deeply into your own at your reaction.

“Don’t laugh at me,” he whispered, trailing his right hand down to grasp your chin, pulling your gaze up to meet his, “I’m not going for comedy right now, honey.”

Although his ferocity was laced with subtle sarcasm, you couldn’t help but find his words humorous, another giggle erupting from within your chest and halting in your mouth. Your eyes softened, a broad smile appearing upon your freshly red-tinted lips under the earlier ministrations.

“Buggy-,” you began, unlacing your right, bandage-wrapped hand from his waist and bringing the semi-damp material up to rest on his cheek, “-I’m not going with the Straw-Hat crew. I’m going with you.”

You traced his stubble-adorned cheek with your hand, noting the way his expression moved from sorrowful, to enraged to settling on complete shock. Silence fell between the two of you, the genius jester’s jaw falling slack as he failed to grasp the threshold-concept of your confession within his mind. He dropped his hands from your chin and cheek to fall again to your shoulders as his eyes glazed over, bulging slightly at the sockets as he processed the words you had spoken. You took this moment to study him; his eyes having a small trail of fallen tears against his painted cheeks, partially dried in the sea air.

“W-what?” he stuttered out, his eyes then darting back from their overthinking lapse and falling back to your own. You giggled and brought your left hand up to his right cheek and soothed them with gentle movements to not disturb his paint, the navy stubble prickling the skin against your palms.

“You, Buggy,” you uttered, brushing your nose lightly against his own, affectionately; “I chose you.”

His eyes continued to flitter between yours as he attempted to pass through the threshold of understanding the words you were speaking, as if the concept and words coming from your lips were completely foreign to him. “Y-you what-?” he stuttered again, searching your eyes for any hint of dishonestly; to which he found none.

“-If you’ll have me, of course,” you giggled, pressing a small, chaste kiss against his lips before adding “I’m not sure what use a tinkerer would be in something as eccentric as a-.”

Your words were halted as the Clown-Captain laced his hands below your arms and hoisted you upwards, his lips once again finding your own as he spun you within the air, circling you as he laughed against your lips in pure joy. Lacing your own hands around his neck, you allowed yourself to be twirled within his arms. The smile he held against your lips was contagious, prompting a large smile to catch against your own lips.

The taste of the sea, the feel of his arms effortlessly lifting your body as he twirled you completely overwhelmed your heart as you experienced the bittersweet union with him, dampened only by the sorrow of removing yourself from the Straw-Hat crew. The sorrow was short lived as he brought his lips away from your own and triumphantly declared: “You chose me!” with a roar of infectious laughter following.

As he placed you down, he immediately cowered as a large, booming explosion resounded throughout the ocean. Your eyes both sprung to the sea to meet with a large, tan cloud; littered with golden glitter and a slightly red-hue. The profile of the Straw-Hat’s Jolly Roger thrust against the tan smoke, an indication of your prior loyalty within the skull-like reverberation of colour: a straw hat littering the top with gold glitter cascading down into the smoke.

“What the fuck was that?” Buggy uttered in shock, looking from the shroud back to meet with your semi-dressed body.

“Going out with a bang, sweetheart,” you teased him, pulling him into you by his cravat, “a fitting conclusion to end my prior loyalty.”

You again teased him with a small peck-like caress against his lips, breaking away only to reassure him: “my loyalty and my heart now belong to you.” You stroked his cheek once again, bringing his gaze back to settle on your own, reassuring him with a simple; “only you.”

He inhaled a sharp breath, sitting high in his chest as he was overwhelmed by a sense of pride at your declaration, choosing to relax into your touch with his eyes closed before unceremoniously dropping to the ground on his knees in front of you.

Placing his gloved hands around the backs of your thighs, he laced his bare arms within the large, camel-coloured cloak he had draped upon your shoulders; you felt the soft touch of his arm hair brush against your legs at this action. He pulled his face in to rest against your stomach and breathed in against your bare skin.

“Marry me,” he uttered into your stomach, pressing feather-light kisses against your skin as he smoothed his gloved hands against the back of your thighs. You laughed, bringing your left hand down to his chin to bring his gaze to look up at you. His eyes were wide and full of adoration as he gazed lovingly at you.

“Ask me properly one day when we’re not surrounded by death and destruction and fully safe,” you teetered off your laughter into a soft giggle, using your index finger to affectionately tap his red nose, “and I’ll think about it.”

“I mean it” he said, stuttering and falling over his words, “I really do, baby.”

He rose to his feet, removing his hands from your thighs and trailing his way up to lace his glove-clad hands within your own; “I want you to rule at my side as queen when I claim the One-Piece, ruling as King of the Pirates.”

You shook your head with a small smile, reminiscing in your mind about your prior oath to serve under Luffy as king, vowing to create a piece for him and him alone as ruler. You unlaced your left hand from his and caressed his cheek, prompting him to press a chaste kiss against your palm.

“Marry me,” he uttered against your left palm, “let me truly make you mine.” He removed his left hand from your right and circled it around your waist, beneath his great tanned cloak that he so thoughtfully lay upon your shoulders.

“Buggy,” you sighed, teetering a soft giggle at the end of his name, “can I at least get dressed first before you proposition me? I’m a tad bare, love.”

“Bare, clothed, completely naked,” he groaned as he pulled you flush against his torso, “I don’t care so long as you tell me you’re mine-.” His breath hitched in his throat at this declaration, as his eyes grew wide with inspiration; “-and I’ll be yours. Truly, completely, yours. All of me.”

He pulled away from your embrace, prompting you to furrow your brows at him. His foot leapt from its position against his calf as it lay down at you unclothed feet – severed from his body. It was then followed by the other foot, then his calves, knees and thighs joining alongside them laying down before you.

“All of me, baby,” he uttered before he completely fell apart and lay himself at your feet. You chuckled at his action and shook your head, reaching your arms down to reclaim his decapitated head from the pile of askew body parts.

“Oh, Buggy,” you chastised him, lifting his head from the pile to meet with your face, “pull yourself together, love.” He furrowed his brows at you before his body leapt to life once more, all of the pieces pulling together below him to form the completed body of the clown you had come to adore.

“You have my heart,” he said, bringing his hands to clutch at his chest; removing a portion of his torso and presenting it to you. You shrieked, noting the piece that became untethered from him to be the beating organ located between his lungs, behind his ribcage.

“Buggy! You put that back in your body right now!” you ordered him, a smile breaking onto your face at his foolishness as you chastised him

“But it belongs to you!” he whined, “please hold onto it for me and keep it safe-.”

You immediately shook your head and placed the object within your fingertips into his chest to be received within his cavity. He immediately reached out his gloved hands to grasp your wrists as you placed the organ within his chest once again.

“And if you fall into sea water?” you asked him, bringing your eyes back up to meet with his, noting his eyes were littered with sorrow, “what then? You can’t live without that organ in your chest.”

He thought on it for a moment, a whisper of clarity eclipsed his mind as he released your hands from his grasp. He reached down into his lefthand side and removed another internal organ and placed it into your hands close to his chest.

“What is this?” you asked him, furrowing your brows and looking slightly uneasy at another body part being thrust upon you. He chuckled and looked down at the small organ.

“My appendix,” he uttered, “something I can survive without if I call into the ocean, but equally a part of me as my heart is.”

“Buggy,” you warned him after inhaling a deep breath, “I want all of you. All of you. With everything as intact as you are now.” You reached the organ down into his lefthand side and allowed his stomach to detach slightly to reclaim the object.

“Is that a yes?” he whispered, keeping his eyes fixed on your hands, watching as they soothed over the skin beneath his waistcoat.

“A yes to what, love?” you asked him, bringing your own gaze from the flesh on his side up to look into his eyes.

“Marry me,” he again demanded, bringing his gaze up to your own, his lips parted a little as he shakily inhaled and exhaled his breath, “I’ve got it bad, sweetheart. You have no idea.” You shook your head at him before trailing in to nuzzle your nose against his own.

“Again,” you reiterated, “ask me properly one day and I’ll truly think about it.”

He growled a little, playfully and with a smile, as he brought your left hand up to his cheek again and nipped his teeth at your palm.

“Fine,” he relinquished his line of questioning in a low tone, “but when I ask you properly, I expect a serious answer.”

“And you shall have it, my love,” you smiled at him, reaching your lips up to press a small kiss against his cheek, “now I have a question for you.”

“Name it, my queen, and I shall bring the world on its knees before you,” he growled, eyes narrowing in both seriousness and complete playfulness.

“That’s not necessary right now, love,” you chuckled at him warmly. You looked about the peer, noting only the large marine ship be docked against it; the Going Merry on the other side of the Conomi Islands, “what is; is a way off this island.”

“You know,” Buggy broke from his intense gaze held against you and began scratching his chin in thought, “that’s a good point. Any ideas?”

You laughed whole heartedly before flinging yourself into the arms of your love, seeking his lips out with your own and claiming them as yours for a long, drawn out kiss. He chuckled against your lips, trailing his gloved hands over your body; accidentally removing his large coat from your shoulders in the process. He clutched you against himself as he groaned against your lips, your hands pulling at the flesh beneath his waistcoat, taking his hips within them and pulling them into your own body.

Finding a way off Conomi Island was secondary to your needs right now, and what you needed was your Captain, cradled against you and whimpering into your lips as you held him within your arms.

-

Walking over to the wall, Buggy withdrew a large sheet of parchment paper that lay pinned against it and moved to take a seat against a solitary dining table; chuckling sinisterly as he read over the words.

“30,000,000?” he uttered in between giggles before all humour fled from his face as he shook the paper straight and growled darkly, “I’ll kill the little shit myself.”

“If you don’t, I will,” a woman with dark hair spoke from the other side of the room, raising her tankard upwards as to solidify her words spoken. Buggy turned, an unnerving smile finding itself upon his face in response.

“You will,” you commanded the two other occupants in the small tavern, raising your chin up into the air as you held two goblets of wine within your index and middle fingers, “do no such thing.”

You made your way over to the side table where Buggy was sitting at, placing the parchment down on the table in front of you. Placing the wine down on the table in front of him before raising one of the goblets to your lips and claimed the paper within your fingertips.

“You don’t owe him any more loyalty, my queen,” your beloved captain sighed, allowing a softness to befall over his eyes while his tone remained harsh. Your gaze softened as you looked at the ‘Wanted’ poster of your former captain, brushing over the figure of his smiling face with fondness.

“That may be true, my love,” you smiled at him, returning your gaze to him reaching your freshly healed right hand up to his cheek and caressing it after releasing the wanted poster from your grasp, “but he remains my friend and I will cherish him always.”

Buggy growled against your palm, placing a chaste kiss against it before reaching his gloved left hand up to grasp your right and maneuvered your knuckles to lay before his freshly painted lips.

“The things I do, or don’t do, for you, sweetheart,” he whispered his warm breath against your knuckles, pressing a long kiss against them before trailing his lips upwards over your wrist and atop your forearm, littering the skin with small kisses along the way. Your eyes became half-lidded as you watched his lips trail upwards your arm with passion and vigour. The only cause for pause of this affection being the other occupant of the small tavern.

“And what’s stopping me from killing him, sweetheart?” the woman asked in a jesting tone, an eyebrow arched at your public actions. You softened your eyes as you broke them away from your love, gazing into her dark irises and moved to speak; only to have your words halt as Buggy spoke for you.

“Bribery,” you uttered playfully, continuing your gaze to remain unmoving from Buggy’s as he gazed hungrily into your own eyes, “anything you desire-.”

“-Careful,” Buggy playfully warned; speaking over your charm, breaking away from littering your arm with kisses to address the dark-haired woman, “This one goes in lips first.”

You snapped your eyes into a grimace scowling at him, watching how his eyes glinted a charming playfulness behind them.

“For fucks sake, not you too,” you groaned, attempting to withdraw your hand from within his grasp only to have it firmly remain within his clutches; chuckling as he placed more kisses against your skin to satiate your fury.

“Yes, me too,” he chuckled at you in teasing, picking up his wine and draining the contents within with haste, “now drink up, we set sail in ten.”

“Where to, Captain?” you asked him, raising the goblet to your lips and taking a small sip, smirking while maintaining eye contact.

“We’ve got a crew, we’ve got a ship,” he listed, keeping his gaze fixed on you as he continued to watch you slowly drink the contents of your goblet, “wherever the wind, and gold, takes us.”

You finished the contents within your goblet and placed the object down against the tabletop, reclaiming the wanted poster from the surface and folded it up, placing it in your tinkerers bag. Your captain stood before you, reaching his gloved left hand down to reach for your own to aid you to your feet.

“Where are you taking that?” he murmured to you, nodding down to the ‘Wanted’ poster in your satchel.

“I’ll be writing to my brother to settle an account,” you nodded your head, smiling at your Captain as you spoke, “he’ll need to know who will be coming to him.”

Buggy thought on this for a moment before speaking, “why don’t we go there? To your brother, I mean.”

“Why would you want to do that?” you asked him, furrowing your brows in curiosity with a small smile propping up your lips.

“I want to meet them all, baby,” he cooed at you, “the fourteen, your Dad; everyone.”

You shook your head at him before adding; “that sounds wonderful, my love. They’re going to adore you. Maybe you could bring your show into town? Put on a performance, charge a bit at the gate?”

He sighed in complete adoration; “and this is why I love you.”

You laughed at him as he brought your cheek up to his lips and placed a warm, wet kiss against it while grasping your chin to keep you steady.

“Is that all?” you giggled.

“That,” he uttered against your ear, “and I am dying to know what sounds will be so absolutely illicit, my crew would need to seek exorcism to rid their souls from the memories and images conjured to them every time they close their eyes.”

A warm tinge rose to your cheeks at this comment, starting at your chest and climbing its way up to your cheeks and the tips of your ears.

“I also,” he continued, kissing your cheek once more before releasing you from his grasp, “want you to see your former crew again. Catch up for old times sake; especially the swordsman: Cabaji permitting.”

The warmth of his prior words calmed themselves to rest in a pink, love-struck tinge across your cheeks as you smiled at his intentions.

“And that,” you whispered to him, stroking his cheek fondly, “is why I chose you.”

He sighed into your hand before shaking himself free and looking to the other occupant in the tavern.

“You coming, Alvida?” he asked her over his shoulder, “we set sail immediately.”

“Aye, Captain,” she smirked, placing down her schooner atop the table once she drained it, “although I fear I’ll regret that choice.”

You chuckled lightly at her comment, lacing your right arm with Buggy’s left and allowing him to lead you on to set sail on his ship toward the familiar coast of your home; from there, who knows? Adventure awaits, and you’re more than happy to tinker alongside your captain to create objects of fantastical nature with precious metals, shimmering stones and intricate cog pieces: a gift to present as prize to the king of the pirates once they claimed the One-Piece.

Your King: Buggy D. Clown; with you ruling with your heart as Queen by his side.

The End

Tag List:

@thesadvampire @a-phan-of-youtube @multifandombtch @plan3t-plut0 @tiredemomama @tfamidoingwithmylife @bimboshaggy @plan3t-plut0 @vixnicknacks @tesha-i-guess@glitteryblizzardsalad @hellbaby237 @shuujin @nevaeh-jasso @hellbaby237 @gingernut1314 @sl00tty-v @redpool @lostfirefly @knightsfavoriteprincess @valen-yamyam16 @potatodaddy @luckyprincesswasteland @str4wberrydreams @misadventures0fdes @sordidmusings

(thank you for investing so much to be added to the tag list. It's been wonderful writing for both myself and you all)

[gatitties]

Ok, I have this idea, the reader(preferably female) is apart of the white beard crew, but White-beard, thatch, Marco, and Ace are the only ones that know about her. She’s a shadow to the rest of the world. The marines and Government don’t even know about her. When Ace is sentenced to death, she makes an appearance because she doesn’t want her brother to end up dead. Not to mention, she’s Yonko level strong.

─Ace, Thatch & Marco x fem!reader (platonic)

─Summary: you refuse to let the only person who could see you die when no one else did

─Warnings: none

─ When you joined the crew everyone celebrated having a new companion to live adventures with, however in just a few days the majority seemed to ignore your existence.

─ Perhaps it hurt you a little that some of the pirates who were supposedly your family forgot your name, but over time you understood that here everyone had their groups and the group in general was so large that it was normal that not everyone knew each other.

─ Although it took you a little longer to adapt, it was thanks to Ace's bright and fiery personality that you didn't feel like a forgotten dog.

─ Ace being the only person you felt comfortable with, you found yourself behind him like a baby duck, which he found adorable, you reminded him of Luffy when he was a kid and followed him through the forest.

─ Of course, being with Ace meant being friends with Marco and Thatch, they didn't know you at first, but they ended up warming to you after a few weeks.

─ You didn't need anything more than those three idiots, the only three people who knew you, who wanted to know about you, who remembered your name, but above all the only ones who could contemplate your strength, they dared to compare you with their father, Whitebeard.

─ Regardless of whether you were a devil fruit user or not, you were someone extremely strong, but since your existence was barely noticeable, you preferred to keep a low profile regarding your abilities.

─ When Ace began to travel and not return so often your heart tightened full of anxiety, without Thatch after the accident with Blackbeard you began to get overwhelmed with Ace's well-being.

─ Which led you to spend many hours inside Marco's office, looking for some comfort, he would calm you down with some sweet words at the time, although it was inevitable not to show concern when the news that your friend had been captured and was going to be executed.

─ You weren't going to go through that, so even without being noticed you were piled up with all those who joined together to save a comrade, a brother.

─ In the middle of the fight you had no problem making way with violence and power, and it's not like anyone was paying too much attention to you since all the attention was on the one you deduced was Luffy, Ace's brother.

─ You smiled when you saw that both brothers fell outside the place of execution, although your face became gloomy when you saw how they continued to attack them, taking into account that they were generals of the marines, you should hurry up and advance to the front.

─ The feeling in the pit of your stomach made a lump in your throat as you saw how, being one step away from both boys, you saw in slow motion how admiral Akainu's lava-coated fist headed towards Ace's exposed chest.

─ You never thought you were holding back in some battles, but even you were surprised when you sent the admiral flying out of your brother's reach, both of them looking at you with their mouth slightly open, although Ace greeted you with a smile instantly.

─ The silence fell for a few seconds and for the first time you received looks from thousands of people, feeling completely self-conscious, you hurried to get rid of the chains that linked Ace's hands to your bare hands, the priority now was to get out of there in one piece.

─ Perhaps, after your feat, people would begin to look at you with different eyes, or simply, to notice more, after all, you were the savior of the son of the pirate king.

─ Oh if Thatch were here he would brag about his sister's strength like Ace and Marco did once they returned to the ship, where this time they celebrated as if everyone were going to become extinct the next morning.

[hannahbarberra162]

Under The Microscope, Part 4

on Ao3 18+ MDNI

Links to the other parts

Your hands were violently shaking and your heart was racing in your chest. If Sabo didn’t want money and he didn’t want you for your scientific research, why did he want you at all? You didn’t think he wanted to kill you, he probably would have done that already and not wasted supplies on you. Someone like him didn’t need someone like you for romance, he could have anyone he wanted. Not knowing your purpose made your anxiety skyrocket. Sabo’s eyes flicked to your shaking hands. He reached out and held them in his own gloved ones, keeping them still. 

“Don’t be upset. Nothing will happen to you. I didn’t take you out of that base to harm you.” He spoke to you in a soft tone, like he was gentling an animal. Even though you’d had the same thought yourself, it didn’t make you feel any better hearing it from Sabo. The boat started rocking a little, bringing back your nausea. But you powered through, you wanted some answers only Sabo could provide.

“I don’t - I don’t understand. Why did you take me then?” You tried pulling your hands from his but Sabo didn’t let go. He gripped your hands even tighter, looking you in the eyes.

“I told you. They don’t deserve you. They didn’t value you or take care of you. So I will.” The blood drained out of your face as you realized Sabo had never been joking. He had been serious the entire time, thinking that you were some inept fool who couldn’t take care of yourself. The thought made your face hot with humiliation as his stare bored into your face.

“They did value me. I liked being a Marine,” you rebutted weakly, looking away from his intense stare. You weren’t lying, there were some parts of being a Marine that you’d liked.

“No, they didn’t. You don’t have to be a Revolutionary, but you’re not going back.” You looked away, face getting hotter still. What did he know about you? Your ambitions, your dreams? How could he say with certainty that you’d want to be with your captor and his army? Sabo brought your hand to his face and kissed the back of your hand, breaking you out of your thoughts. His warm lips lingered a bit too long on your skin, like he was savoring the moment. “Try not to worry, it’s not good for your health.” You almost let out a hysterical laugh - worrying was not good for your health? What about being drugged and kidnapped against your will? You yanked your hands back from Sabo.

“So, that’s it then? You’re keeping me at the Revolutionary Army HQ for the rest of my life?” you hissed at him. Sabo was contemplative but still looking at your shaking hands, not upset in the slightest.

“Probably not the rest of your life, we’re going to overthrow the World Government soon enough. Plans might change once we do,” Sabo replied evenly. This time a hysterical laugh did escape from you. He didn’t seem bothered by how upset you were, which was in stark contrast to his tender care of you during the previous days, fretting over your every need. Your stomach lurched again.

“I want my clothes back,” you said in a quiet but angry voice. You didn’t want to be wearing Sabo’s clothes anymore. They smelled and were soaked in sweat but you also wanted to regain a sense of self. You were a Marine, no matter what Sabo thought he could do to you. 

Sabo’s POV

“Oh, they’re gone. I burned them,” Sabo said, still staring at you. He agreed you needed to change clothes, but you’d only be wearing his. At least until you got to the first stopping point tomorrow. Then unfortunately he’d have to provide you with something more substantial to wear. You paled with Sabo’s last statement. Sabo didn’t want to upset you but he needed you to understand in no uncertain terms that your engagement with the Marines was over. Permanently. “I can give you something else to wear, if you’d like. I imagine you want to change after a few days wearing the same thing.” You didn’t answer, Sabo could tell you were thinking over all his words. Still, he got up and went to his trunk, rummaging around for something you could wear. He found a short sleeved tunic he hadn’t worn in months. He grabbed it as well as a fresh towel and washcloth, handing them to you. “Would you like a shower?” He could tell that it caught your interest.

“Yes, please,” you said, taking the bundle from him quickly. You looked ill again, like you were shortly going to be nauseous. Even so, Sabo had noted that your bouts of seasickness were getting farther apart. Maybe you’d be able to go to the top deck by the end of the afternoon.

“Follow me, it’s not attached to this room. It’s communal so let me check first to make sure no one’s in there.” You hesitated, clutching the bundle to your chest. Sabo put his hand on the back of your neck, bringing you warmth once more. “You’re safe,” he stated. “I’ll be with you the whole time.”

“W-what?” you looked at him in shock and tried to shift his hand off of you. Sabo raised an eyebrow and kept his arm in place. 

“You’ve been sick for two days and had to have multiple bags of IV fluids. I can stay right outside the shower door but I’m not going any farther than that.” You looked at him angrily, almost like he betrayed you, and tried handing him back the towel, moving his arm off your neck.

“I don’t want to shower.” Sabo contemplated his choices for a moment. He could force you, could make you shower with him in the room. But that would destroy everything he worked so hard to build. He looked at your face, which was getting paler by the moment. He shifted tactics, gently pushing your hand holding the towel back to you.

“I’ll make a deal with you. If you don’t vomit in the next five minutes, I’ll let you shower completely alone,” Sabo bargained. You looked at him suspiciously but your eyes flicked to the towel in your hands. Sabo knew he’d won this round.

“Ok. But if I don’t throw up, I’ll be alone in the shower? Completely? You won’t be outside the shower door?” Sabo nodded solemnly.

“Absolutely.” You huffed and sat down on the bed. Sabo wasn’t a betting man, but in this case, he wasn’t worried. He watched you clutch at the towel so hard your knuckles were white. You tried closing your eyes and laying back on the bed. None of it helped. You made it two two and a half minutes before he handed you a bucket. By three minutes, you’d vomited. Sabo came up behind you and moved your hair out of your face. He put a warm hand between your shoulder blades after you’d finished, stroking your exhausted muscles tenderly. He was sure you didn’t realize, but once he’d put his hand on your back, you inhaled a deep breath, relaxing a little. Sabo smiled to himself.

“You see? What if this happened in the shower and you were alone? Or if you passed out again? I’m not doing this to be intrusive, I don’t think you can be by yourself right now.” You didn’t reply, just wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, eyes still closed. If Sabo wanted to be intrusive, he would shower with you, he thought. He certainly wanted to. 

“Yeah, I guess,” you said glumly. Sabo dropped it, not needing to prove his point any further. After a moment, you opened your eyes and swung your feet over the bed. 

“Let’s get this over with,” you grumbled.

Your POV

You didn’t want Sabo with you, but you desperately wanted a shower. Maybe it would help you feel like a human being again. He led you to the bathroom, holding the door open for you to enter. You wondered when he’d drop the gentleman routine, he behaved like some noble or something. You fiddled with the towel in your hands.

“Can I at least undress by myself? It…I won’t take long.” Sabo nodded, he hadn’t even entered the bathroom yet. 

“Of course, knock on the door when you’re done. If I don’t hear from you in a few minutes, I’m going to come in.” You were grateful you’d have some privacy, even if it was temporary. Sabo closed the door and you stripped quickly, wrapping the large towel around yourself. You started the shower, waiting for the water to get hot, then knocked on the door. Sabo cracked open the door.

“Ready for me?” he asked. You didn’t answer, just pulled the door open even further. You weren’t ready for him , you were ready for the shower. You felt exposed by wearing so little near him, but you’d lost the bet. The water was steaming so you wanted to get in quickly before the hot water ran out. You opened the wooden shower door, grateful that it would obscure some of your body. Sabo would be able to see you from the calf down and the top of your head, but that was no big deal. You threw the towel to hang over the door and started rinsing the accumulated grime off your body. The hot water was almost too warm for you but you enjoyed the sensation, getting lost in the momentary reprieve from stress and anxiety. 

Someone had left some pleasant smelling soap, shampoo, and conditioner in the shower, the familiar scent of sandalwood and jasmine entering your nose. Where had you smelled it before? You didn’t really care, it was nice enough. Your hair was so tangled, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to get a comb through it again. You tried starting with the ends but you gave up and just threw conditioner in there while you scrubbed your body with the washcloth. Maybe you’d leave it in there and wash it out in the room sink later. You spent a few minutes zoning out and washing, thinking about nothing.

“Everything OK?” Sabo asked. You almost jumped, he had been so quiet you’d forgotten he was there while you enjoyed the water. 

“Y-yeah.” You didn’t want to engage Sabo in conversation while you were still naked. You figured he was telling you to turn off the water, so you rinsed your hair quickly, leaving some of the conditioner in. You were hoping it would work like a leave-in, allowing you to detangle later. Shutting off the shower, you grabbed the towel over the door and wrapped yourself up. You opened the door and saw Sabo leaning against the wall. It wasn’t a large bathroom, you weren’t sure where he’d go when you were changing. But you didn’t even have to ask before Sabo left, telling you to come out when you were done. You tried rinsing off the sudsy washcloth in the sink, but it had cracked, making it non functional. 

After Sabo brought you back to your room, you crawled into the bed. You hadn’t done much but you were exhausted. You wrapped your hair in a towel, you’d deal with it later. You snuggled into the pillow, inhaling deeply. Ah. There was the familiar smell. You’d used Sabo’s toiletries. Well, it was nice that he left them for you. Drifting off to sleep, you hoped you’d get a few hours of rest before the nausea returned. 

You woke up confused. The sun was low in the sky, had you slept all day? You were feeling better, you thought you were mostly done with the seasickness since it was nearly day three. Getting out of the bed, you walked around the cabin, surveying what was there. Sabo was right, this was a small boat without much on it. You knew he’d locked you in before, but out of curiosity you tested the doorknob. It turned. Maybe Sabo had forgotten to lock you in after your shower? Or maybe this was a test to see what you would do? You gnawed on your bottom lip, unsure what to do. Surely he wouldn’t be mad at you for leaving the room, it was his own fault it wasn’t locked. On the other hand, you didn’t really know Sabo at all. Maybe this would set him off and you’d be burned to bits. Deciding to take a risk, you turned the knob slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible. You opened the door, peeking out to see if anyone was watching. No one was there, so you crept along the hallway as fast as you could. Maybe you could find something useful for…whatever your next step would be.

Tip toeing through the hall, you heard Sabo in conversation with a woman through a door that had been left ajar. You hadn’t met anyone else on board, so you weren’t sure who it was. They sounded close, like they’d worked together for a long time. You strained to hear them. 

“- not a good idea, Sabo. What were you thinking?” The woman sounded exasperated.

“I didn’t want to leave her there. She’s a valuable asset.” You couldn’t see him, but you were guessing Sabo’s arms were crossed. You had been right, he wanted you for your research abilities and fruit powers, he lied to you. He probably thought he could get you to do research for the RA, and hiding his motives would help him. 

“That wasn’t the assignment, and you know it. You were supposed to neutralize her, not kidnap her.”

"The assignment was to neutralize the work being completed, not the scientist in charge,” Sabo rebutted. You backed away instinctively. They were casually arguing about murdering you. Leaving the cabin had been a mistake, you didn’t know any of these people or what they were capable of.

“What are you going to tell Dragon? And what are you going to do with her?” Sabo sighed loudly.

“Let me worry about that. She’s mine. And she’s staying with me.”

“On the island?” The woman sounded incredulous.

“For now.” You backed away from the conversation, wanting to get back to the cabin before Sabo saw you were out. Your hands were shaking so hard you were having difficulty working the knob. You finally managed to get it open and dart inside just as you heard footsteps coming down the hallway. You jumped into the bed, trying to look natural. The footsteps stopped outside the door, turning the knob. Sweating, you sat up on the bed, hoping Sabo didn’t come in. You were a bad liar, he would figure out you eavesdropped immediately. But the door never opened, you just heard the sound of the key turning, locking you in again. You weren’t sure that made you feel any more comfortable. You laid in bed for what felt like hours, twisting in anxiety about the conversation you'd overheard. You wanted to know more but weren't sure how to get the information without making it clear you'd listened in. Spying was not in your wheelhouse.

Taking a shaky breath, you reached for the cup on the nightstand and refilled it from the pitcher. Sabo had been bringing them to you to help with rehydration since the previous night. You drained it in one long chug, putting the cup back on the stand. Even though you had slept all afternoon, you were tired again. It made sense, you hadn’t slept for a long time during the storm and while you were sick. You yawned and leaned back on the bed, turning over to your side. You might as well sleep now, you were locked in the room anyway. Nothing else to do, you thought, drifting off.

The next day, you woke up in the late morning. You were warm and cozy, and basked in the feeling. The bed was rumpled, but you sometimes moved around a lot in your sleep, that wasn’t unusual. You stretched and raised your arms over your head, touching your hair. Oh, right. You hadn’t detangled it. It probably looked like a rat’s nest, you really did have to deal with it before it became a problem. You rewet your hair in the small attached sink, hoping your makeshift leave in worked at least a little. You didn’t see a comb or mirror in the room, so you sat on the bed, trying to detangle with your fingers. After a few minutes, you heard the sound of the door unlocking. Sabo came in, bringing with him a tray of food. You hadn’t had solid food other than crackers for days, so the smell of fresh eggs and sausage made your mouth water. Sabo set the tray down, watching you with your fingers in your hair.

“Do you want help?” Sabo asked, removing his top hat from his head. He had a pipe strapped to his back, which you hadn’t seen before.

“Help with what?” You were confused, you weren’t sick. What would he help you with?

“Detangling your hair. I used to do it for my younger brother all the time. He’d get bits of grass, leaves, even bugs in there.” It seemed a little too intimate for a captor to offer to his captive. You tried to decline.

“No, but if you had a mirror that would help.” Sabo frowned at you. 

“Your arms are tired and aching. You don’t have to do everything yourself. Let me help you, you can eat while I work on your hair.” You bit your lip. Remembering the neutralizing conversation from yesterday, you didn’t want to upset Sabo. If this made him happy, it wouldn’t be the worst thing. Besides, he was right, your arms were already aching and you’d barely started.

“Alright. But I don’t have a brush.” Sabo reached into his jacket pocket and brought out a small brush with flourish. You situated yourself on the chair in front of the writing desk and Sabo stood behind you. Picking at the food on the plate, you felt Sabo’s body heat on your back, as he carded through your hair. He started detangling your hair at the ends in the most tender and gentle way you’d ever felt, occasionally massaging your scalp after a particularly knotted section. You nearly moaned from the repeated contact. You knew you were touch starved and lonely but didn’t realize someone taking care of you could bring such satisfaction. You wanted to lean back into him and purr. Your hair was nothing special, but he held it like it was made of gold. You didn’t speak and neither did he. He was absorbed in taking care of your hair and you were glad for the reprieve from awkward conversation.  Once he was done, he kissed the top of your head, took the now empty tray and left the room without another word. Your eyes opened wide, what the hell was that?

Sabo POV

Sabo wanted to claw out his good eye for kissing the top of your head without warning. He didn’t regret it, it had felt so natural and right in the moment. But the look of confusion and alarm you’d had after made him realize his misstep. It wasn’t his fault, really. You’d been driving him wild, it was only natural for his affection to come out somehow. It had been pure bliss to offer you affection and for you to accept it. You’d let him in a slight bit, letting him care for you when you weren’t ill. It was a step in the right direction and he hoped he hadn’t derailed it too much by kissing you afterwards, even if it was on the top of the head. A kiss on the head could be brushed off as platonic, he rationalized.

His feelings towards you were anything but platonic though. When you’d been in the shower, he had been gripping the sink so hard he’d cracked it. He wanted to see your naked form so badly, but he knew it wasn’t the time. He contented himself by wondering what you looked like, what color your nipples would be, how sweet your pussy would taste. There would be a time, hopefully soon, where you would want to show him what you looked like naked and Sabo could hardly wait. He would take all the time you needed, he had plenty of it. While your mind was wandering off, forgetting he was there, he heard you softly humming to yourself. It was so endearing and cute, and Sabo now had evidence that you were feeling protected and safe enough to let your guard down. 

And yes, he had been drugging your water. Not very much, but by the time you’d had four or five cups, you’d be sleepy. It was a little habit forming, but nothing dangerous to your health. He couldn’t help it! After the first time you’d let him hold you all night long, he was addicted. He needed to feel you in his arms, knowing you were safe with him. Sabo loved watching you while you slept, curled up and warm. He purposely kept the window open at night making the room cold, so you would seek his body heat.  You nestled into him like a little cat, rubbing your face on his chest. How could he resist your charm? Besides, it was ok that he drugged you, it was in your benefit. You’d been sleep deprived for so long, this would help you get back to better health. 

Now on the deck, Sabo saw that the boat was finally arriving at the destination, it was time to go. He took his kerchief out of his pocket and got the keys to his room out of his pocket. Re-entering the room, he walked over as you were reclining on the bed, reading the book that he’d left out. It was a history of the Revolutionary Army, maybe you’d find it interesting.

“Time to go, the boat is docking.” You looked up at him, noting the fabric in his hands. “I’m sorry, I need to blindfold you. The locations of RA safe houses are secret.” You looked skittish and if you could have run, you probably would have. Sabo knew he didn’t have to blindfold you, there wasn’t a way you’d get off the island without him. Besides, it’s not like you knew where they were, you’d been completely out of commission during the trip. But Sabo wanted you to rely on him, cementing the idea that you needed him. You swallowed and nodded. Sabo gently but firmly tied the kerchief around your eyes, making sure it was completely blocking your vision. 

“Put your hands in mine, we’ll go slow together.” You blushed at his words, but Sabo hadn’t meant them in any kind of entendre. Still, it was nice to know he wasn’t the only one with romance on the mind. You raised your shaking hands and Sabo took them in his own. He still hadn’t taken off his gloves around you, but it might happen in the future. You clutched at his hands, afraid and unsure, swiveling your head as if you could see. “It’s alright, I’ve got you,” Sabo said softly, his thumb rubbing circles on the top of your hand. He helped you to standing and guided you out of the room. Koala was in the hall, preparing to move her things into the cabin, and gave Sabo a quizzical look. Koala thought this whole endeavor was foolish. Sabo knew she didn’t dislike you as a person, she disliked the deviation from the orders. She would come to see how wonderful you were, just like Sabo had, and she was always nervous around new people. Sabo guided you slowly to the top deck, where the plank to the dinghy was. Every step of the way he verbalized what was happening, to make you feel at ease. “One large step up, we’re at the entrance to the stairs,” he said, moving his hand to grip at your arm. It took a while to get to the deck, but Sabo wanted it to last as long as possible. 

You kept turning your head, trying to get as much information as you could with your limited sensory input but Sabo knew you weren’t getting much. Reaching the gangway, Sabo informed you that you would be carried. Not waiting for a response, he picked you up, causing you to squeak. He’d carry you as much as you’d allow, which didn’t seem to be much. Crossing over to the tiny boat, he sat you in his lap on the dinghy. 

“H-hey, let me sit by myself!” you protested, trying to feel for the seats. Your squirming wasn’t helping his growing erection, he hoped you couldn’t feel it. 

“If you want to be rocked by the waves and vomit all over yourself, sure. If I hold you, I can keep you more secure.” Sabo startled to lift you off his lap, but you stopped him.

“No, it’s OK. I’ll stay.” You already looked a little green, Sabo thought, rubbing your back. Luckily, the trip to the shore was exceedingly short. Sabo carried you off the little boat, sad for the loss of contact. Setting you on the sandy shore, Sabo reached to the tie of the blindfold.

“I’m going to untie your blindfold now. It’s a small island, please don’t try to escape. It won’t work and I’ll have to restrict your freedom more. It will make us both unhappy.” Sabo wasn’t actually worried about you escaping - you were on an uncharted island and even if you managed to get to a boat, your seasickness wouldn’t let you get far. But he still wanted to warn you, just in case. He untied the cloth, folding it back into a square and placing it in his pocket. You squinted, adjusting to the light. You looked around at the island, trying to determine where you were. You saw the little house Sabo had been living in for for about a year.

“Is it just us on the island?” you looked around quickly, probably trying to guess if there were others who could potentially help you.

“No, not just us. I’ll introduce you to my brother, Ace.”

[thesharktanksdriver]

Determination (Platonic)

Part 1 Part 3 Shanks beast pirates

Tagged: @peachsuka28 @emptynessinmyworld @badluckinfrench @j-s-l-m @tigerfang-rage @madokamagicaa @rymtea

Please give some suggestions of others y/n has met on their journey in the comments. I wanna see who else people want them to befriend/meet

I plan to later on do an entire thing for marineford. Be prepared for that and more stuff about y/n’s devil fruit

Once again this is non linear. Partially cause it’s easier that way and cause y/n has lived so long that their memories are kinda jumbled/they don’t really perceive time anymore (I kinda focused on that in this)

At some point in your eternal journey you began to write down your adventures into a small notebook

It’s leather bound with bright lettering on the front

A custom clasp in the shape of a star to keep the soft yellowed pages tight together

Sometimes you read it when out at sea with nothing to do but letting the wind guide your way to place of new and old

Before tucking it away into the pocket of Roger’s coat

Old ink of a dark navy blue stands out on the paper

Stark against the light yellow

With your feet dipped in the salty water of the place you called paradise you pull it out once more

Content in relaying over memories and people you’d once met

Let’s see who we have in store for today

Sengoku

Waking up on Marineford of all places after dying was certainly not on your list of islands you wanted to visit

An island dyed white and blue with golden accents sprinkled throughout the crowds of marines that walk through the area

The headquarters sat at the very top, loud and proud on the crescent moon shaped island

Honestly you very much contemplated just jumping into the sea to end up somewhere else

But as you stood at the very edge of the bay , leaning a bit forwards as the sapphire blue waves crash against the old stone walls

A hand grasps your shoulder

Turning around your met with the sight of a marine you had vaguely remembered Garp talking about

Sengoku, the Buddha

Your eyes trail upwards past his face to the pelican sat atop his marine hat

It stares down at you as does the marine who looks at you with concern

Especially since he sees no fear in your eyes along with contemplation

You had seriously thought about jumping into the sea all Willy nilly

It wasn’t even accounting the fact you may have a devil fruit

He quite literally drags you into the base, you don’t really complain since he gives you crackers

Similar ones to Garps favourites though a different brand

He sits you down, trying to get as much information out of you

It…isn’t successful

Your just chilling in his office, eating, looking around and giving the vaguest answers ever

Like he asks you about the island your from and you respond “a summer island a long ways from here. A place where fruit is plentiful and the corrupt hands of society do not touch” or some shit

He’s too stressed to deal with that type of shit so he doesn’t push further

Garp has been in his ass as of late along with the fact he’s worried about Rosinante

So his solution is to for now allow you to work as a delivery person for letters and documents

You actually quite enjoy it

Meanwhile this poor man is stressing over the fact that there is seemingly zero leads to any parents?

He’s just gotten somewhat unclear reports about a child on a raft drifting from island to island

Someone who reportedly has a track record of befriending the most unlikely of people

His migraines are getting worse at this point

You come to like the somewhat stern marine, oftentimes talking to him once done delivering letters and such around base

Most conversations are on ethics, morality and life

It’s odd but the way you talk about it seems as if your a weathered person who had seen more than the eye can see

Something in him leads him to feel as if your older than you looked

And then you somehow end up doing the most child-like thing and that feeling momentarily goes away

It’s weird and conflicting

But something he comes to get used to

In a lot of ways you remind him of his adoptive son

You have his smile and kindness that you extend to others even if they had sneered at you in the halls

The energy to complete a job no matter how big or small

A pension for somehow ending up in some sort of danger, though now it’s not from having two left feet

It’s from a lack of spacial awareness and not having any care for your safety

You’d think after such a long time seemingly on your own there would be some sort of fight or flight instinct

But from what he could observe there was absolutely none

It leaves him scared

He grew to care for you

See you as someone he’d take in within a heartbeat

But despite that and the offers he gives you of a home with fresh meals and someone who would care for you

You decline every time

Your tired from going to place to place yet you decline all offers of a stable life

A child should want some sort of stability, yet you throw that to the wind

He supposes that your burning determination and self sufficiency are good factors but a child your age shouldn’t have that

You should be carefree and going on a whim

But instead as he looks in your eyes he sees the tired visage of someone who had long lost their innocence to the world despite the laid back nature you show

It’s sad, it leaves him sometimes awake wondering what exactly you had been through

Maybe it was marines, it would explain your apprehension at first around him

Hair standing on end despite the lax facade you put up

Eyes looking at him with caution like a frightened and cornered cat. Calculating how to best go about the situation

The way in which you discuss with him about justice and what it meant

He digs more and finds scraps of nothing

Meanwhile as all that happened you were blissfully unaware of his spiral of worries

Just focusing on your job as you memorized the headquarters and marine procedures

You had nothing else to do plus it could come in handy

Along with that you befriend some of the few decent marines

One of which you spend quite a lot of time with despite Sengoku complaining about the smoke smell that hangs off your uniform…and the second hand smoking risk

Not like it can kill you quick so you don’t really care

You listen in on a lot of juicy marine rumours

There is quite a surprising amount of it

Despite your comfortable happiness here it’s merely an afterthought

You know you can’t stay here long

It feels as if it betrays Roger and the many other pirates you had found yourself in the company of

You desire freedom and marines are in direct opposition of that

But with this experience you find growth in your views

Marines weren’t all bad. They served the purpose of keeping order, something naturally needed in the world

But they are overstepping, wanting entire control when there needs to be a balance of both order and chaos to keep things in line

Plus you met a few that you’d otherwise consider good people in a system they thought would do good

You can’t fault them for that, not when so many sought out with good intentions

Secretly you prepare your leave, your boat already having washed up in the bay a few week back

Your not sure why but it always seemed to show up where you were

Maybe another aspect of your devil fruit? You don’t know it’s full capabilities but don’t question it

You’d rather let life do what it does best and put things in order if the stars align

At this point your prepared to leave but hold out for a bit longer for Sengoku’s sake

But then you delivered to him a letter whilst he was having a meeting with a fellow marine

Even before you enter the room you can recognize Garp’s boisterous laughter

Despite his now more apparent age from time he’s still eccentric and buzzing with excitement

As you enter the room you keep your head down and caps brim tilted as to shadow your face

Sengoku notices this but doesn’t voice it aloud as Garp laughs about something

He barely gets a image of you before your out the office

Heading to the small room designated as your own as you write a letter saying goodbye

You can’t stay, can’t risk it

Sengoku arrives a couple hours later completely exhausted from Garps usual rambling

He’s not sure how someone can go from business to about his grandsons

He has your dinner in hand, apparently you never showed up at the mess hall

His voice and knocks are responded with silence

Worry gnaws away at him, the feeling of something being wrong apparent more than ever

the door creaks open and your not there

What he’s met with is an open window with sheets cascading down the wall and a note

He runs to the pier despite knowing your not there

It’s there he takes time to actually read the note

A thank you but an explanation about how you must leave. Head off towards yet another adventure in the grand world you called home

Tears cascade down his cheeks as he reads it

They do not get better when it tells him that you would always remember his kindness

And that he taught you something valuable to viewing the world

Heading back to his office he thinks back to his son once more

Something finally coming to mind

He swears he remembers Rosinante mentioning someone similar to you as a childhood friend

The only person him and his brother had as children

He shoo’s off that thought though

They were dead

His son watched that firsthand

But because of that he knows that Rosinante would want to know of you

He takes the picture he took of you in the delivery uniform and placed it in a letter

He’d have his son look into perhaps finding you

Or at least extending a helping hand if he hand found you adrift at sea

He’d stash away the reminders of your stay lest he get an earful from Garp

Speaking of which, the idiot hero of the people seemed more alert for some reason. Just saying he was on the look out for an old friend…odd

Kid pirates

They find your ship as your drifting at sea

You were fishing at the time, passing the time plus trying to get some potential food

And then you see this giant ship pull up near yours

Your not really scared though a bit surprised cause you recognized that Jolly Roger

You’d heard a lot about this crew, but you didn’t know who was the captain

Seems like your question will be answered

Staring down from the side of the ship is someone with fiery red hot hair and someone wearing a mask with an equally wild mane of golden locks

For some reason though the red head looks familiar

Extremely…ohhhh you knew him

Oh shit you knew him when he was a kid

And now he’s grown up (you’d hadn’t even realized it’s been that long) and your still as young as you were back then

With no possible explanation to write you off as a different person

Shit-

Before you can do anything your lifted out from your ship via a metal bracelet on your arm made of wire and screw

Curtesy of Kid all those years ago who stares at you with a mixture of confusion, shock and anger

His crew is watching with batted breath wondering what he’ll do

“I’m guessing you want an explanation”

“No shit”

“Captain let’s take this someplace private”

With that the two take you to his workshop, a place similar to the one he had growing up

Yet it’s now not just a shack

Around the room there’s metal scraps and almost completed projects scattered around

It smells of iron, rust, determination, stubbornness and oil

All of which you’d come to associate with the red haired captain you now sit across from

And of killer who you now recognized despite the mask

You don’t have much of a choice to tell the truth

Especially since you know for a fact both would be able to tell if your lying

Kid is angry, perhaps not at you but for the circumstances of your life

It’s no wonder that even as children you were a bit odd

Staring off into space as you’d say some weird cryptic shit

But it also explains the sadness as well

The few times he caught you silently mourning something or someone in the dead of night

His anger fades though and becomes something else when you mention you didn’t know the years had flown by and he was grown up now

It scares him

You hadn’t realized the large passage of time from when you left that one night to now

When you admit that your even a bit shaken and confused but shrug it off

That really fucking terrified him especially when you begin to recount some of what you’d done in that time

For so long he and Killer assumed you died but perhaps you had something worse than that

You’d lived through so much

Through bloodshed and war

Through loss and grief

Countless deaths of not only the people you’d formed a connection with but yourself

Pain was now a meer concept to you

He sees how strong you are (and he heavily respects that) but at the same time how close you are to the breaking point

When Kid cares for someone it’s akin to molten steel

It’s burning brightly and protectively forming a hard barrier towards it and danger

There are a few people he’d ever stick his neck out for to protect (that being his crew and Killer)

And one of them is you, the only other person in his childhood that ever stood through thick and thin with him

By god will he ever admit it through words but with actions

And his actions are subtle as hell to those who don’t know him

On deck as his crew are rowdy he makes sure to keep out and eye for you, especially considering how your prime bumping into material for being so short

Luckily for him though your usually on someone’s shoulders or being playfully tossed around

Despite how clashing the rest of the crew’s personalities are from your own you fit in. Your calmness allowing you to go with the flow of their escapades

It’s not really surprising to him, but there are a few of the crew who comment about it

There were a lot of ways to describe you but he thought the best was the eye of the storm

A peace and calm within the swirling winds of danger and chaos

Bringing a calm breeze and momentary warmth

It’s easy for him to notice but his men are more content

Happy as you indulge in games with them or give a break from the hecticality of life at sea

This is of course all good and nice but Kid is somewhat huffy when you spend too much time with them

When this happens killer usually gives you a signal so you go spend time before kid ends up destroying something

One of his favourite pastimes with you is having you help with his tinkering

Sitting in a small chair made of metal and scrap as he works diligently

During these times he doesn’t talk, just listens as you tell stories or stay silent with him

It’s therapeutic in some way

Especially since the only background noise is the clanking of metal

Sometimes you ask about his devil fruit power and he shows off

Making you oh and ah about the versatility of what he can do

It makes something in him swell with pride especially since you look at him with awe

Just as he did as a kid when you told stories of pirates

During the late nights in which his crew are asleep you both talk

He digs deeper into your stories and gets madder and madder when more and more of your life is exposed

Most of your responses when hearing the truth is pity but his is anger

A weird but validating reaction that makes your long died out anger ignite a little

He lets you punch, scratch and scream to let it all out. Encouraging you to do so

Sometimes you swear you can see a brightly shining star in him. His determination for something that burns like a furnace used to heat up metal to bend to his whim

Killer is much like kid in the fact that he’s worried about and cares but he goes about it a much different way

He’s the only voice of reason on this ship

And he’s honestly glad to have someone else who’s level headed

As much as he loves his captain and crew it can kinda get annoying sometimes when he’s the only responsible person

Your at least not jumping to set the ship on fire every 3 minutes unlike some people

Hearing your situation now makes a lot of sense when thinking back to when he and Kid where young

There were a lot of inconsistencies and things that didn’t make sense

But now they do on the fact you were a seemingly immortal traveler

It makes him upset like Kid though

Your situation wasn’t fair

Your life wasn’t the dream your once made it out to be

Sure there are moments of happiness dispersed through the cold harsh waters but it took you dying in horrible ways to get there

You didn’t see that but you felt it’s affects

The occasional times he’d have you help cooking and then you’d blank out

Be stuck in your mind till he snaps you out of it and you explained how you were once eaten

It’s terrifyingly eye opening to how the world treats someone like you

A kind and calm soul who only wants freedom amongst the waves

Yet though they are sometimes treated with kindness there is also cruelty

Like Kid it leaves him angry

Upset on how you let yourself be treated in such a way along with brushing it off

Not only that but it’s also concerning

How you endure the worst things he could imagine yet it seems to be an afterthought

Until he finds you in the middle of the night staring out at the darkness with a certain look in your eye

There’s not much he nor Kid can do but he promises himself he’d try

Try for your sake to actually value yourself

Killer on the ship is the cook amung other duties as well, but cooking is his favourite

He has you help out as a second pair of hands

To be honest he doesn’t trust anyone else on the ship to cook without accidentally (or purposefully) poisoning someone so he usually does it alone

It’s the only time of peace on this madhouse that he calls of home

And it’s nice he gets to share it with someone

He assigns small tasks for you to do on the account your still a kid (despite how much you protest and say your literally older than him)

Cutting vegetables, grabbing ingredients, taste testing and stirring are your main priorities

But occasionally he has you help with other things as long as he can keep a close eye on you

He knows for a fact if you hurt yourself you wouldn’t tell him and brush it off

And by god he doesn’t need you to die of something stupid just cause you didn’t care to tell him

Unlike Kid he’s not afraid to verbally give affection

It’s just in private moments that he prefers it

Soft thank you’s and moments in which he admits he had missed having you around

The logical side of him knows he and Kid can’t convince you to stay but the emotional side tries anyways

Showing you how happy you could be if you stayed here

How the crew saw you as their own

How much safer you’d be rather than just drifting from place to place

It’s a loosing battle but one he tries anyways cause he cares

And he knows Kid cares despite the fact he tries to deny it

Cause Killer knows Kid

Seen how the red haired captain had been more motivated as of late

How much happier he is

The fact that when you bring up leaving the red haired captain locks himself in his workshop for the night to try and distract himself

He wishes you’d see how much you affected people, affected them

Cause despite what you thought of yourself your able to do the impossible

You leave a real impact on those you’d met even if it was for a short time

The crew sometimes pester him for answers on how he and Kid already knew you but he doesn’t budge

That’s a private matter that only you could disclose if you so wanted to

But for now he just says you were friends beforehand which gets some confusion

Speaking of the crew, he watches as you interact with them

Quickly somehow worming your way into their hearts as you did his

Watches as you play poker and they teach you how to cheat at the game or sing shanties while they drink

He may or may not have gave a few a good knock on the head for letting you take a few sips

(Kid hides the fact he gave you some as well)

He carry’s you off to bed and sneaks you some sweats he snagged at a port

Even allows you to brush and braid his hair in private

Kid once walked in and laughed his ass off about killer going soft

And then the two had a playful fight

Meanwhile you sat there laughing

It was like old times

As always you eventually leave but not before the crew throws a large party in your honour (and partially to drink the feelings away)

Before you set off again kid gifts you a bracelet made by him and a small piece of paper

To always find them if you needed their help

You smile and set off, not knowing how the crew stares with ignorant hope you’d turn around

Crocodile

Your not sure how but somehow you ended up in a desert with absolutely no idea of what island this was

Naturally you decided to lay in the sand and wait to die so you’d wake up somewhere else

But a few hours into that a shadow obscures the harsh sun that had been glaring at you for hours

A man, black slicked hair and elegant clothes with a golden hook for a hand

Beside him is another man, what you assumed to be a bodyguard of sorts

“Hi what desert is this?. I’d like to know where exactly I am before I die”

Yeah they definitely didn’t expect that for an answer

But with what you said you seemed to intrigue the hooked man

“Alabasta. What are you doing out here in the first place alone kid?”

“Woke up here. Was waiting to die”

Admittedly crocodile was just gonna save you as to make his imagine of being the hero of this country even better but now you’ve really got him interested

Even Daz was somewhat surprised and intrigued by your comment and lax attitude towards death (even your own)

So as he takes you back to the city, taking in the fame that came with it, he decides to “look after you” until your parents come to claim you

As any kind Samaritan would do

Your calling bullshit on that but amuse his words anyways

At his casino he talks to you as he does paperwork and take mysterious calls you leave the room for

While your curious you respect his privacy which he seems to appreciate

Crocodile is a peculiar man

Someone of specific interests and a golden viper-like tongue that leads to fools eating out the palm of his hand

You can see that though, quite easily actually

Eyes looking past the hand he holds out to the hook he hides behind his back and goons just behind the corner

He honestly applauds that you see it

In his words your “a smart kid.” Which you assume is something he doesn’t say often

Much like an oasis in the scathing sands of the desert

Your conversations with him are much more personable rather than focusing on his clearly defined goals and plans

That isn’t your business to divulge in, but his character is up to your judgment

He’s obviously not a good person but half of the people you’d called friends were criminals and killers alike

Sure some had morals but there’s still a stated fact that they had taken lives in pursuit of their goals

Roger included

You’d be a hypocrite to think otherwise

Talks often involve subjects of death and the goal of freedom

And what freedom meant in this world that was quickly having it taken away

Crocodile is tinged by death much like the lingering smell of his cigars

It follows him like a plague, like sand stuck to your clothes after getting wet

Yet despite that it’s a clearly interesting topic to him especially since you disregard your own safety

He’d seen it in the desert and at his casino where you nearly got shot by an angry patron

You don’t care about your own death

But when it comes to others it’s a different story

It’s interesting to him

Why were you so selfless in the fact you’d carelessly throw your life away for someone else’s

In this world it’s one only won by the selfish

He’s a prime example of that

At his core he knows he’s selfish, his goal is an example of that fact

Yet despite how foolish it is to not be selfish…with you it’s admirable

You don’t have some sunny and innocent view on the matter. You know it’s a loosing game yet you pursue it anyways

Perhaps it’s more foolish in that way but you don’t care

Not when you have the freedom to choose and make those choices anyways

Freedom matters to you more than words can describe and he relates

It is freedom that let him make the course of his own destiny

Changing who he once was to the person he is now

Now comfortable in his own skin and confident in his abilities and identity

Perhaps it’s cause you had your freedom taken away at some point but you relate in some way

Not having the choice in a matter and suffering due to it

He doesn’t go into full detail on the matter but you have a knowing look in your eye and a semblance of deep respect because of it

It makes a part of him feel light and airy

Despite all the clearly scummy aspects of himself that are as clear as day to your eyes….you respect him

Some still deeply insecure part of him curls up at that and wants to cry

You respected him

That’s something he’d always wanted

It’s not motivated by fear and greed but true respect for the hardships he’d been through to get here

Worry curls up in his gut, swirling and violent like the sands storms he creates

Shit, he’s attached

What’s worse is that you’d wormed your way into the others hearts as well

Even Daz has to admit you grew on him

Your a lot like a cancerous sore. Growing and spreading to a new part of the body

Yet he can’t will himself to cut you off

And neither does his inner circle

It complicates things but at this point he accepts it after a brief moment of reflection and thought

He hadn’t thought of trying to find your parents and had the posters taken down

Now fully intending to keep you as his own

He doesn’t ask you on the matter, just slowly begins the process

Decorating your room to your preference

….which was very hard considering you didn’t have one and settled for the bare minimum most of the time

Yeah it’s a bit of a challenge especially since your beginning to catch on real quick

It’s kinda easy to tell when someone goes from “I’m keeping you around for entertainment” to “I’m keeping you around as my kid now”

While you appreciate the offer and effort you don’t particularly like your freedom being impeded upon

“You know that’s hypocritical right?”

“Yes but when have pirates ever been people of their word?”

“Touché…but I’m still not happy about this”

As this happens he begins to dig deeper to who you are

Intent on figuring out if you had parents and if he could perhaps…get “custody” to put it broadly

But that becomes a challenge when there’s seemingly nothing about you except for vague whispers across the sea

A legend

A story

A song

It’s old, going back to the days of Roger and references to before that as well

A tale of a star that never really died

It’s forgotten to many but to a few it still lives on

And he has the vaguest idea from the description in the song that it’s you

But for awhile it’s a mere speculation

Until you end up dying in front of him from a deal gone wrong

Despite the fact you knew the bullet would pass through his body you instinctually throw yourself in front of him

The bullet piercing your chest

A deafening silence filling the moment between him and his inner circle of baroque works

And then chaos

Their swiftly dealt with, the perpetrator personally having their body liquids drained within mere moments

And then he’s at your side as Bentham does their best to stop the bleeding

Despite the fact your bleeding with a piece of led stuck in your chest your unfazed

Shrugging it off as “pain is a concept to me at this point”

It makes him angry, sad and determined all at the same time

Angry at the fact you must’ve experienced so much pain that something like this is nothing to you

Sadness that you’ve went through this before

And determination to stop it from happening again. To have the ability to protect you

“Let it be known that when you come back I’ll be looking for you”

“So you know?”

“Had some connections…found an old story but you just confirmed it”

You giggle lightly at that, not even wincing as you cough up some blood with your laughter

They all watch as your eyes fade of their light and then after that your body breaks into sparkling dust

Crocodile is a selfish man, one driven by ambition and greed

It’s funny you think he’d let go someone he considered to be a diamond in the rubble

One that shone as bright as a star in the sky

He extinguishes his cigar under his boot, grasping the small bits of starlight in his hand before it slips through his fingers like sand

He chuckles, how ironic

In the world populated by the greedy he intends to be king

And a king guards his treasure especially something that is as priceless as you are in this world

“Watch out kid. You’ve gotten me attached and there’s no undoing that now”

Boa Hancock

For a brief time you had spent a couple months or so as a celestial dragon’s slave

It was by complete accident that you were kidnapped and subsequently sold

But in that time you’d come to learn more of the politics of the world

Specifically the inequality of rules for nobles from the world government

You don’t spend much time as a slave but it’s torturous

Permanently scaring your mind with the pain of being branded as property

Seen as an object that can be broken

In your time there though you remember 3 girls

That time is a blur in your mind but you remember giving your limited food to them

The group being taken aback by the kindness as you explained you’d be fine

It went on like that for awhile

You never got their names but you gave them yours

They were sisters, the one with black hair being the oldest of the trio

It was a friendship made out of desperation

Of knowing that none of you were alone

The eldest of the group is one day forced to kill you for the pleasure of the sick bastard who had branded you all

She’s sobbing

He’ll kill her sisters if she doesn’t

You tell her it’s ok, that she must do what she can to survive and keep them alive

That death didn’t scare you

Her devil fruit turns you to stone within an instant but not from romantic love

It’s from the love of a friend

Of someone who’d cared for her and her sisters enough to give up your own for them

For her to keep them safe

The statue crumbles and she’s left sobbing

Gold floats from the grey dust that scatters around her

She thinks back to some of your last words

She had to be strong for her sisters

Make sure they get out of here lest your sacrifice be in vain

She’d be strong so she can protect

Just as you protected her and them from a violent fate

Even through the scar isn’t there anymore you scratch at your back

Remembering the pain of that seal

You can’t remember who the symbol belongs to anymore

Other than then being some type of royal

The cycle begins again

Smoker

You met him during your brief time at marineford

One of the only Marines whom you found to actually be good

Not just seeing things as simply black and white good and bad

Sure, he had a job to do and accomplish but he at least had a sense of morally grey justice

A well weighted scale so one side is not preferred over the other

It’s because of him that the smell of lingering smoke now leaves a sense of comfort to you

Admitting this to him makes the rather gruff man go completely red

Much like the lot end of those cigars that he loves so much

Despite how own duties he’d help you deliver things at the base

Having his smoke help carry letters across the island within minutes as to give you a small break

Speaking of which, he basically forces you to have mandatory breaks from work

Oftentimes literally dragging you off to go get something to eat

You have the feeling he has a soft spot for kids but vehemently denies that fact

(The way he buys you ice cream and lets you sit on his shoulder says otherwise but ok)

Another thing supports this fact is that he grows quite concerned at your complete disregard for your safety

The man has a panic attack every time you make an odd comment about “do you think I’d die from this height or shatter my legs” and “could you theoretically give people cancer or kill them via smoke blockage in the lungs?”

You can’t convince him that you had a happy childhood before this

Sengoku not being able to find your parents makes this thought worse

You didn’t know him for very long but you hope to one day run into home again

Charlotte LinLin

Somehow you ended up at an orphanage after someone found you asleep and adrift at sea

It most cases this would’ve been a blessing

To you it was an annoyance as they left you at a place for the abandoned and mourning

A reminder of where you might have ended up if you haven’t ate your fruit

Hadn’t taken the reigns of fate in your hands and steered it towards the endless blue sea

Immediately you want to leave the moment you can, especially since you get off vibes from “mother caramel”

That woman is up to something real bad

You can feel it deep in your bones

But you end up staying when you meet a peculiar girl

She’s young but not little, she towers over you like a giant

Puffy pink hair kept in two buns and freckles cheeks paired with a large toothy smile

She’s an interesting character, so like always you end up staying

Her name is Linlin, someone with monstrous power yet is innocent to a frightening degree

She has a kind heart yet doesn’t realize her strength

Something you try to help her with

Linlin is ecstatic to have you as a friend especially since you don’t seem out off by her size

You stay by her side, more specifically on her shoulder and tell her stories that make her eyes widen in curiosity

Telling stories of other races, showing her that the other children who aren’t human aren’t needing to be fixed like she initially thought

Their all perfect

She’s still a little confused but she gets the gist of it

Another thing she doesn’t get is discrimination and thinks it’s stupid

She expresses a dream of a place where everyone can live in peace

It’s a beautiful dream but one that is far fetched, yet you can’t help but tell her to go for it

Because there’s no harm in trying

Mother Caramel seemingly assigns you as Linlin’s impulse control

Seemingly since your the only one who can actually make her listen when she’s blind from rage

As much as you don’t like the old woman, she’s got a point

Linlin is a hurricane if made angry and you’re the key into keeping it at peace

She seems to note that to herself for some greater reason

In the end you didn’t know Linlin for very long but she seemed to hold you in such a high regard she deemed you her “bestest friend!”

It’s nice

But like all things they come to and end

But surprisingly it’s by her own hand

At her 6th birthday everyone had come together to make her sweets knowing she loved anything sugary

She was in tears, grin so wide you thought it was big as the red line

She ate and ate

Until there was no cake left

But like in those blind rages she didn’t see

She didn’t see there was nothing left

Didn’t notice what she now began to eat was the rest of the children sitting nearby

Mother caramel

And finally you

Eventually she woke up, finding herself alone and confused

Glitter flowing up into the sky

Years later you hear about some island meant to be a utopia for all people

It reminds you of that little pink haired girl

But that can’t be, you heard the pirate behind it was a maniac

That couldn’t be the innocent girl you met and became friends with

…how did you die that time again?

All the deaths have merged together or you can’t remember which death went where

For all you know the one where you got eaten was that one

But that can’t be

From what you remember Linlin was kind if not naive

She couldn’t

Wouldn’t

The cycle begins again

Katakuri

For awhile you stayed at an island that specialized in baked goods

And that served as a calling for the famous pirate known as “big mom” and her children

The island was not yet under their…”protection” but was being negotiated with as of when you visited

And on that island you found yourself at a bakery buying sweets to your hearts content

Specifically donuts

The one where we’re apparently particularly good

And honestly it’s been awhile since you’d treated yourself to a good meal

Soooo you splurged a bit and bought them all

And that leads to an odd meeting when you run into the giant of a man with a pink tattoo and fur lined scarf covering the bottom half of his face

The chefs cower as they tell him that their all out of the sweet treat

Despite the evident frown he doesn’t look as if he’s about to trash the place like the chefs are making it seem

He simply seems disappointed and a bit sour

Despite how everyone is clearly afraid of him you poke his arm making him look at you

“We can share if you’d like. I don’t mind”

From the mortified looks of everyone in the room it’s evident everyone is half expecting him to flat out obliterate you on the spot

But much to their surprise he seem to think it over

“If you see me eating I’ll kill you”

“Aight, that’s fine with me. We can eat back to back, then I won’t see you”

The bakery is left silent as you leave with the pirate

They prey your alright

Just as your promised you eat back to back. He creates a small house of mochi as you put down the donut box and you both eat

It’s peaceful and nice

He half expects for you to turn around but you don’t

You don’t even seem to consider it as you happily eat and engage in small conversations

It’s odd being asked such mundane things like “how was your day?” And “what do you do for a living?”

Let alone by someone who isn’t currently shaking in fear

….it’s nice

You let him have the last donut much to his surprise

He enjoyed this much more than he thought he would

So he comes up with an ultimatum

“I’ll be too busy to buy them before they sell out…would you be willing to buy them and then we do what we did today?”

“Sounds fun to me.”

He leaves with a warm feeling in his chest

Not even his siblings treated him in such a relaxed manner…it was refreshing

The next day ticks by and he finds himself awaiting for the meeting to be over

He stops himself from tapping his foot but his irritation occasionally seeps out

It goes to help speed up conversation though and then he’s free

Like the day prior you both meet at the same place

He insists on paying you back but you refuse

It’s confusing but he doesn’t make a comment about it

In the grande scheme if things this is such a small thing but it begins to mean the world to him

He’s only intended to stay here for a week yet he dreads that final day

So much so that he finishes business early

When you go to the shop you find that their already sold out much to your displeasure

You go to tell the sweet toothed man you befriended and find him already with the confectionery

You eat back to back once more for the last time

Enjoying the donuts that bring him momentary relaxation and relief from the pressure to be the prefect son

The perfect big brother

It’s nice

And for once he feels as if he was his true self around someone

You hear him cry but don’t turn around out of respect for him

Instead you just offer him more food and gently pat his arm

A small “thank you” falls from his mouth and you smile

You thank him in return for the pleasant company

He wonders if this is what is mother experienced when having her “bestest friend” all those years ago

The one story that him and all his siblings had heard growing up

About someone much like yourself

He leaves the island with a smile beneath his scarf and a noticeable better mood

His siblings ponder about what happened but he doesn’t speak a work of it

This was a treasure he’d like to keep to himself

For some reason his mother has a knowing look

Btw wanted to thank you all for liking this so far. I was honestly kinda scared to actually post for one piece but I’m glad people are enjoying my content for it. I recently got into the show and wanted to write about it cause I love it so much.

[doormatty3]

Ocean Eyes: Chapter 2 (Orm Marius x Reader)

Masterlist Ao3

Ocean Eyes Masterlink

Summary:

[Orm Marius x Female Reader] [Orm Marius x You]

The ocean has always fascinated you - the ebb and flow of its water, the marine life in the sea and the wild and untamed beauty it exudes. Your attempts to explain this fascination have always fallen short. But when you meet Orm at the seaside one rainy day you find, that he just understands.  You offer to show him around since he is not from the city. And you are intrigued by his rather strange quirks and his regal demeanour.  After all, how could you not? When his eyes mirror the ocean itself, deep and incredibly blue.

OR: You impress Orm with the surface world and he impresses you with his Atlantean cock

Wordcount: 5412

The car ride is short and comfortable, the rhythmic hum of the engine accompanying the shared silence between you and Orm.

As the landscape glides past, Orm’s gaze remains fixed on the passing scenery, lost in contemplation. His hand rests firmly on your thigh, and his fingertips trace seemingly random patterns.

Arriving at the burger place near the ocean, you find yourself on a charming pier that extends gracefully over the water. It exudes a quaint and cosy charm, offering both indoor and outdoor seating. You have been here before and hope that Orm will also like it.

You leave the car and notice the bustling atmosphere, a lively mix of people enjoying the seaside ambience. Families, friends, and couples populate the area, creating a vibrant tapestry of seaside enjoyment.

As you lead Orm towards the entrance of the burger place on the pier, you can’t help but notice his gaze wandering, taking in the atmosphere. His eyes seem to absorb the sights, sounds, and smells, curious as if he’s never seen something like that.

A subtle feeling creeps in - that Orm appears somewhat out of place again. There’s something about him, a quality that sets him apart and makes him seem almost otherworldly. You find yourself unable to put your finger on precisely what it is. Still, it lingers in the periphery of your awareness like a gentle whisper of intrigue that tugs at your curiosity.

Perhaps it’s his regal demeanour or how he seems to observe the world with a depth that transcends the ordinary. You scold yourself inwardly to stop thinking about that - it’s probably nothing, only the quirks of a person adapting to unfamiliar surroundings. 

As you reach the entrance of the burger place on the pier, you turn to Orm and ask, “Would you like to sit inside or outside?”

There’s a momentary pause, and he seems to grapple with the options as if the distinction between the two is a puzzle he’s attempting to solve for the first time.

Orm stammers slightly before responding, “Uh, outside, if that’s... if that’s fine with you.” His words carry a hint of uncertainty, as though he’s seeking your approval or guidance in navigating this seemingly simple choice.

“Sure. I like to sit at the water more anyway,” you smile at Orm and then turn to the waitress, “Table for two, please, outside if possible.”

The waitress nods, responding, “Yes, please follow me.”

She leads you through the lively pier and sits you at a charming table by the seaside, offering a nice view of the ocean that stretches before you.

As you and Orm settle into your seats, the waitress hands you the menu. With a polite smile, she inquires, “Any allergies?” 

You shake your head in response and notice Orm appearing momentarily puzzled, as if the question threw him off again. Eventually, he follows suit and shakes his head.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it then. Or do you already know what you want to drink?” the waitress asks, her friendly demeanour adding a pleasant touch to the dining experience.

“I’ll go with a coke,” you tell her with a smile. She nods in acknowledgement before turning her attention to Orm.

“Do you have Guinness?” he asks, his words flowing more fluently this time as if finding comfort in the familiarity of the beverage.

“Yes, sir, we do,” the waitress responds.

“Great, then I’ll take that,” Orm says with a decisive nod.

The waitress acknowledges the order with a nod of her own and then gracefully walks away, leaving you and Orm to view the menu.

You already know what you will be eating: a classic cheeseburger with extra bacon and hand-cut fries, So you cast your gaze to look at the sea, zoning out for a bit and losing yourself in the rhythmic movement of the water.

Orm’s voice interrupts your brief reverie, bringing you back to the present. “So, what’s your fascination with the ocean?” he inquires, his eyes fixed on you with genuine curiosity.

“Hm?” is your thoughtful response, a momentary delay as you process his question and look at him before answering, “I am a marine biologist - so it’s just everything for me.” 

You cast your gaze at the sea again, watching the waves as you continue to speak, “For as long as I can remember, I have had a strong love and appreciation for the ocean - of the life beneath the surface, the ecosystem, the marine creatures.” 

The sea breeze tousles your hair as you express your love for the sea.

“I think most of my fascination is with the unknown and the many misconceptions people have about the ocean and its inhabitants.” The reflection of the sunlight on the water mirrors the spark in your eyes and you pause for a short moment before continuing, “That they think some animals are just inherently evil. But we - as humans- could learn so much from the ocean if we would just listen .” 

You scoff, a touch of frustration colours your voice as you continue, “But they don’t and continue to pollute the waters - kill the life beneath the surface. Destroy ecosystems.” 

Your eyes find Orm’s again; he watches you intently, a glint in his eye that you haven’t seen before. 

”That’s why I do what I do - to help them see. To help preserve life. There is so much that could be done, but many people don’t know how - and it’s my job to educate them.”

“That’s a noble profession, an honourable calling,” Orm remarks, his blue eyes warm and calm like the ocean void of wind, “But don’t you think it is in vain? Do you really think they can learn?” 

“Yes,” your response is immediate and resolute, “No one is inherently evil. But a lot of people lack a sense of direction… And once shown, they adapt and do what they can to better themselves.”

You share a smile with Orm, sensing that he just understands what you mean.

The moment, however, is gently interrupted by the arrival of the waitress, gracefully bearing your drinks.

“Coca-Cola?” she asks, and you raise your hand, replying, “For me.”

She places the drinks in front of you before she speaks again, pen poised over her notepad, “What do you want to eat?”

“A cheeseburger with extra bacon and fries,” you declare, and Orm promptly seconds your choice. The waitress, a warm smile gracing her lips, takes note of your order and retreats.

Orm, with a thoughtful expression, breaks the silence. “You truly believe people can change, then?”

You meet his gaze, the sea breeze playing with your hair. “Absolutely,” you respond. “It’s not about convincing everyone at once. It’s about starting a ripple, making a difference where you can. Education and understanding can be powerful catalysts for change.”

Orm nods, his blue eyes reflecting both curiosity and agreement. “It sounds like you’re on a mission.”

A chuckle escapes you. “Perhaps. But it’s a mission worth undertaking, don’t you think?”

“Oh, definitely,” Orm answers, a smile on his lips as he looks at you intensely, making you blush. He leans back in his chair, his eyes never leaving yours. “What led you to this path?” he asks, his curiosity evident.

You take a sip of your drink, contemplating the question. “I suppose it was a childhood fascination with the sea. The mysteries it holds, the life beneath its surface. As I grew older, I realised the urgency of preserving that beauty, of correcting the misconceptions that threaten it.”

Orm listens attentively, a hint of admiration in his eyes. “It takes a special kind of dedication to devote your life to something so vast and, at times, misunderstood.”

“The ocean has a way of making you feel both small and connected. It’s a journey of discovery, and every day brings something new,” you tell him, a wistful smile gracing your lips. 

You continue to talk, the sun beginning its descent, casting a golden glow over your conversation. The rays seem to elevate Orm’s features, and you can’t help but notice the way his straight nose and defined cheekbones are beautifully illuminated. His blonde hair, still sitting a bit tousled on his head, catches the sunlight and shines in the golden hues. 

His blue eyes look impossibly deep in the light; it feels as if the vastness of the ocean is mirrored in his gaze, and you find yourself captivated by the shifting shades within his irises. You feel like if you concentrate enough, you could watch the sunset in them, and they would mirror the exact way the water looks right now – a harmonious blend of oranges, pinks, violets, and cerulean blues.

The waitress arrives with your much-anticipated meals, placing them on the table. Both of you express gratitude with a simultaneous “Thank you.” 

You pick up your burger, the warmth radiating from it, and take a satisfying bite. As you savour the taste, you glance over at Orm, curious to see his reaction - if he likes the place you have chosen.

Orm approaches his meal with a hint of anticipation, taking a tentative bite from his burger. Watching him eat is mesmerising - he chews slowly and deliberately as he processes the combination of flavours. A drop of sauce finds its way to the corner of his lip, and with an unconscious grace, he catches it with his tongue.

You observe him nodding appreciatively, his brows lifting slightly in a silent gesture of approval. It’s as if he has just discovered a hidden treasure, and the delightful taste seems to resonate with him. Watching him eat makes you feel like he never had a burger because he looks so genuinely fascinated by it. 

He is rather cute right now, and you like how he can be so regal and serious but also so sweet and goofy.

Choosing to shift your focus, you return to your own meal, eating a few fries.

In the corner of your eye, you notice a cockroach making its way across the table. Just as you prepare to intervene, your gaze shifts to Orm, who, in a swift and unexpected move, catches the intruder in his large hand, examining it with a curious expression.

A moment of concern sets in as Orm flexes his fingers, bringing the roach closer to his burger. You fear this might lead to a deadly consequence for the uninvited guest, that Orm may crush it. 

Acting on impulse, you speak up, “Don’t kill it.”

Orm looks at you with a puzzled expression and stills in his motion with the roach still cradled in his hand. You take the opportunity to pluck the roach from his fingers gently. Bowing down, you release it onto the ground, allowing it to run away freely.

You find Orm still looking at you with curious eyes and feeling the warmth of a blush creeping up your cheeks, you mumble, “I don’t like to kill insects, even if they’re annoying.”

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “Respecting all forms of life, even the tiny ones. That’s commendable.”

“Yes, I mean, some of them at least have a use to the ecosystem, and some you can even eat. Both don’t apply to cockroaches though, sadly,” you elaborate under his intensive gaze.

Orm blinks a few times as if processing your words, and then he inquires, “I heard that cockroaches are something that is eaten.”

You shake your head, offering a slight grin, “Nah. Crickets and stuff, yes, but not cockroaches since they are known to carry and spread diseases.” 

He gives you a tight-lipped grin, the expression not quite reaching his eyes as he takes another bite from his burger.

“Did I say something wrong?” you ask him, a hint of concern in your voice - his reaction worries you.

His response is immediate as he lays down the burger and reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers. “No. No. Not at all.” His blue eyes reflect sincerity and openness. “I was just caught off guard since I thought differently. But everything is fine.”

You smile, relieved by his reassurance, squeezing his hand slightly. “Thank you, Orm.” 

As you both finish your meals in comfortable silence, the lighting on the pier gradually comes to life, and they begin to flicker one after another, creating a gentle, welcoming ambience.

It casts a subtle radiance on Orm’s features, the regal quality becoming more pronounced as the gentle play of shadows enhances the lines of his face.

Orm’s gaze wanders, absorbing the evolving spectacle of lights around the pier. His eyes, reflecting the warm glow, sweep across the surroundings, capturing the flickering bulbs, the gentle sway of boats, and the distant outlines of structures bathed in the soft radiance of the evening.

A subtle appreciation plays on his features as he takes in the scene, and you find yourself captivated by the way his eyes navigate the transformed pier. 

The waitress returns to your table, a friendly smile on her face as she collects the empty plates. She glances at both of you. “Is there anything else you’d like?”

Your eyes meet Orm’s briefly, and then you turn back to the waitress, “No, thank you. Just the bill, please.”

With a nod, the waitress acknowledges your request, “Alright, I’ll bring that right over.” She takes the empty plates and heads back toward the bustling interior of the restaurant.

The waitress returns with the bill, a small leather folder clasped in her hand. Opening it to reveal the receipt, she glances between you and Orm, asking, “Will you be paying together, or should I split it?”

Before you can respond, Orm steps in, a subtle determination in his voice, “I’ll take care of it.” 

You shoot him a grateful look but quickly add, “Orm, you really don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he insists, his eyes, intense and unwavering, meet yours.

A warmth settles in your chest at his insistence, and you feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks in response to his intensity.

The waitress informs him of the total cost, and Orm reaches into his pocket, pulling out a handful of coins. The currency appears unfamiliar - distinctive, with intricate patterns and unique markings, causing both you and the waitress to exchange curious glances.

Breaking the momentary silence, the waitress gently informs Orm, “Sorry, we only accept dollars here, not foreign currency.”

An almost imperceptible furrow forms on Orm’s brow as he looks down at the money in his hand, and a moment of realisation dawns upon him. You can almost sense his internal struggle, caught between the unfamiliarity of the situation and the desire to settle the bill.

Without saying anything or making a huge deal, you smoothly reach into your wallet, pulling out enough dollars to cover the bill and a generous tip. With a friendly smile, you hand the money to the waitress.

“Have a good evening,” you add warmly, and the waitress reciprocates the sentiment. As she departs, you turn your attention back to Orm, offering an encouraging smile.

Orm’s eyes meet yours, appreciative yet carrying a hint of vulnerability. 

“I’m sorry,” Orm says, a tinge of frustration and embarrassment evident in his voice. “I forgot about that.”

You respond with a reassuring smile, and without a second thought, you reach out, brushing your hand gently over his cheek. When you see the way his eyes widen a bit and he looks at you in wonder, you know that it was the right call.

“Oh, don’t worry, I get it,” you assure him, your fingers tracing the contours of his cheek, noting the texture of his stubble beneath your touch and the warmth he emanates. “You can get the next one,” you suggest, pulling back your hand.

Orm responds with a toothy smile, genuine and warm, the expression reaching all the way to his eyes. 

You both get up and leave the restaurant to stroll along the pier, your hand brushing on Orms as you walk. Part of you would like to just take his hand - you have kissed, after all, but you’re not sure if that’s fine for him.

“So, by being from far away, you meant Europe then?” you inquire, your curiosity getting the better of you as that was the first thing that came to mind. 

Orm nods in agreement, and you decide not to press further, sensing his reluctance to delve into the topic.

The pier gradually becomes less crowded as you and Orm move towards its edge, and the rhythmic sound of the waves beneath grows louder in turn. The lights along the pier continue to illuminate the surroundings, creating a gentle glow that adds to the enchanting atmosphere.

The sky, now mainly adorned in shades of deep blue, cradles the last remnants of daylight along the horizon. A narrow strip of it retains a warm afterglow, casting the tranquil sea in a soft gleam.

You and Orm come to a halt as you reach the end of the pier, overlooking the water.

The sea reflects the transitioning sky, creating a mesmerising dance of colours on its surface. As the daylight wanes, the sea takes on a deep, mysterious navy blue, mirroring the vast expanse above. The rhythmic movements of the waves hold a subtle elegance, their crests catching the remnants of sunlight and transforming them into liquid silver.

The small ripples sparkle in the fading light, creating a celestial reflection that mirrors the ever-changing hues of the sky and the soft lights on the pier.

As you stand at the edge of the sea together, gazing out into the expansive ocean, Orm takes your hand - warm, large, and unexpectedly soft with his long fingers. 

Reflecting on the day, you realise it has been unexpectedly beautiful - it still is. When you first met Orm on the beach, you couldn’t have anticipated this.

You have never met someone who shares the same profound love for the sea, but with him, it is a connection that flows effortlessly like a smooth, unhurried river.

Orm’s voice, quiet yet resonant, breaks the stillness. “Thank you,” he says, his eyes fixed on the ever-moving sea. 

You turn to face him, your own expression reflecting curiosity. “For what?” you inquire, uncertain about the reason for his gratitude.

“For the day,” he responds, his gaze still tethered to the horizon. The soft glow of twilight illuminates his features, allowing you to trace the contours of his side profile with your eyes.

A genuine smile graces your lips as you squeeze his hand in acknowledgement, unsure of how to respond.

The comfortable silence wraps around you, lingering for a moment before you gather the courage to break it. 

“It doesn’t have to be over yet, you know,” you say, the words escaping your lips with a hint of nervous excitement.

Orm turns his head swiftly to face you, raising one eyebrow in curiosity. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” you continue, feeling a bit breathless, “I think you’d like the aquarium I own.”

Your heart beats a bit faster because, oh god, you just invited Orm over to your place - handsome and a tad strange Orm, with the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen.

A warm smile graces Orm’s features as he nods in agreement. “Lead the way.”

______

Street lanterns and the soft glow of stars guide the way as you drive over the coastal road to your house. 

As you approach, the one-story building comes into view, overlooking the ocean below, with stairs leading down to a dock, a garage for water vessels and the beach. Even in the dark, it is apparent that it is made from dark wood that harmonises with the natural surroundings. 

“Well, here we are,” you say to Orm and turn off the engine after you park your car.

Both of you step out, and you watch as Orm takes in the details of your house.

“This is really nice,” he says, looking at you, a fondness in his blue eyes.

“Thank you,” you reply, smiling. “Wait until you see the inside.”

With that, you lead the way to the door, unlocking it to welcome both of you inside. Turning on the lights, you close the door behind Orm before taking off your shoes.

You notice a brief moment of confusion on Orm’s face, his brows furrowed as if he’s perplexed by the act of removing shoes indoors. Nonetheless, he follows your example, mirroring your actions with a subtle curiosity.

You love your house, as it’s a reflection of who you are. The walls are adorned with various pictures and paintings, capturing scenic views and wildlife scenes. A massive windowfront facing the sea with garden furniture outside offers a serene spot for looking at the ocean. For rainy days, you have a cosy sofa perfectly positioned to enjoy the view.

Orm’s eyes wander around your home, curiosity evident in his gaze. They trace over the pictures, examining the various trinkets and charms that give your house its character. His gaze eventually settles on the highlight of your home - a huge aquarium that spans an entire wall.

When you built it, you decided upon those dimensions to allow for a diverse and thriving marine ecosystem.

As the overhead lights cast a gentle glow, the aquarium reveals a spectrum of colours and movements. Coral formations, in various shapes and hues, provide shelter for a multitude of fish. Small, darting figures in every shade imaginable navigate the intricate structure, their scales catching the light and creating a dazzling dance of colours. Seahorses, graceful and delicate, cling to the swaying fronds of seaweed.

The water, crystal clear and carefully maintained, magnifies the beauty of the inhabitants within. Anemones sway in the gentle current, and schools of fish move in unison, creating an ever-shifting symphony of aquatic life. It’s a tranquil yet lively spectacle that brings the wonders of the ocean directly into your home.

As Orm moves closer to the aquarium, his eyes fixate on the intricate details of the underwater world. The gentle hum of the water filter provides a soothing backdrop to the vibrant display. His gaze traces the contours of coral formations, follows the movements of fish, and lingers on the seahorses.

You watch as he leans in a bit as if drawn into the underwater realm. The overhead lights cast a subtle glow on his features. For a moment, the regal air about him softens, and you see a genuine sense of wonder in his eyes. 

“Wow,” he says, his voice hushed in awe, “I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

You can’t help but smile as you respond, “I’m glad you like it.”

As you both stand there, watching the aquarium, you notice that the soft glow from it reflects in Orm’s eyes, creating a harmonious blend of colours.

“It’s like having a piece of the ocean at home,” you add, happy to share this with someone who appreciates it as much as you. 

Orm slowly turns away from the mesmerising aquarium, his eyes still reflecting the underwater spectacle.

With a gentle yet firm touch, Orm reaches out, his hand cupping your cheek. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you feel a magnetic pull drawing you closer. His blue eyes lock onto yours, searching for something in the depths of your gaze, and you swallow dryly.

Closing the distance, he leans in, and his kiss is soft and deliberate. Responding instinctively, your hands find their place on his strong shoulders, fingers tracing the contours of his well-defined muscles.

He hums pleased and deepens it, wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer into his thick frame. You taste hints of the cheeseburger he enjoyed, the lingering notes of the beer he had, and something uniquely him that defies easy description but is absolutely delicious. 

The warmth of Orm’s embrace envelops you, and his hands, initially gentle, now hold you with a firm and possessive grip. There’s an undeniable urgency in the way he pulls you closer as if trying to bridge any remaining distance. 

He begins to trail a series of kisses down your neck, each touch leaving a lingering warmth in its wake. As he reaches the junction between your neck and shoulder, he pauses, sinking his teeth into your skin with a sharp intensity. A quiet hiss escapes your lips, and your grip on his shoulders tightens in response. Orm soothes the sensation with the caress of his tongue before resuming the journey upward, placing gentle kisses along the column of your throat and inhaling your scent.

“Orm,” you whisper, your fingers tangling in his hair, gently guiding his head back up to meet your lips in another kiss. In the quiet intimacy of the moment, you can’t help but register how soft his hair feels beneath your touch.

Orm’s hands explore your body with heightened intensity, each touch sending a wave of heat through the fabric of your clothes. 

When he pulls back, his breath comes out in heavy, rhythmic waves. His hair is already tousled from your fingers running through it, and his eyes, fiery blue, reflect the intensity of the moment, while his lips bear the deliciously pinkened evidence of your shared kisses. 

Breaking the silence, Orm speaks with a low and surprisingly severe voice, “Do you want to take this somewhere else?” His gaze shifts to the aquarium, and his expression suggests a genuine concern. “I’d rather not have spectators.”

A surprised chuckle escapes you as you realise Orm might actually be serious about the fish in the aquarium. You raise an eyebrow, playfully questioning, “Spectators, really?”

Orm nods with a solemn expression and a faint smirk, adding, “They’re judging eyes.”

You can’t help but burst into laughter again, shaking your head. “Okay, let’s get somewhere private, then.” You guide him towards the bedroom, wondering if the fish truly appreciate the unexpected concern for their modesty.

The fleeting thoughts quickly dissipate as Orm is on you again, his lips finding yours in a deep and fervent kiss before he buries his face in your neck, leaving wet kisses that send shivers down your spine.

Pressing against him, you feel the heat radiating from his body and the firmness of his muscles as well as his hard cock. You grind your hips harder on his groin, desperate for some friction and more of the electric spark that every touch from Orm seems to give you.

You physically feel him groan into your skin, a deep, feral sound that reverberates through his chest.

Suddenly, you feel frenzied to get him out of his clothes, to see him naked, to touch his skin. So you tuck on his shirt, pulling it upwards. 

Orm, getting the hint, separates from you and takes it off, letting it fall to the floor. 

Before you have time to appreciate his naked upper body, he lets his hands wander under the hem of your shirt to pull it off you, too - which you let him do without resistance.

Then, with a sudden and assertive move, Orm grabs you by the shoulders, guiding you towards the bed. The motion catches you off guard; the change in him is so quick that you don’t have time to react. 

Orm’s mouth descends upon yours again, a cascade of passionate kisses and teasing nips at your lips as he bites down on your bottom lip before running his tongue over it.

As the back of your knees meets the edge of the bed, he pushes you down, and you find yourself lying on your back.

Finally, you have time to appreciate his form. 

As Orm stands before you, the soft glow of the room’s dim light dances over the planes of his body, creating a mesmerising interplay of shadows and highlights. 

Orm’s hair is tousled, a delightful disarray from your previous encounters and frames his face in a way that adds a hint of wildness to his regal appearance. The light dances on the strands, highlighting the varied shades of blonde.

His eyes, an intensely deep shade of blue, seem to capture the ambient light like the ocean capturing the moon’s glow. The fire within those eyes hasn’t diminished; if anything, it has intensified, turning them into pools of desire and unrestrained passion.

His physique, chiselled with remarkable precision, seems almost otherworldly in its perfection.

The defined lines of his muscles catch your attention, each one sculpted to perfection as if carven by a Greek master aeons ago. The play of shadows accentuates the curves of his arms, the contours of his chest, and the lines of his abdomen. Every movement he makes is a testament to the vigour and elegance that defines him.

Your eyes trace the contours of Orm’s arms. The sight of his substantial biceps commands your focus, the muscles rippling with strength and power. Your gaze follows the prominent vein that courses along the expanse of his arm, tracing its path down to his forearms.

The play of light and shadow accentuates every curve and crevice, revealing a level of physicality that borders on the divine. 

The forearms subtly flex with each miniature movement, a testament to the latent strength within. Your gaze lingers on his hands, large and commanding, the fingers thick and long. There’s a certain elegance in the way those hands move, a grace that contradicts their sheer size and power.

Moving lower, your attention shifts to his defined chest that expands with each breath. You marvel at the expansive breadth of his pectoral muscles. The perfect symmetry of his six-pack draws your gaze, each abdominal muscle pronounced and sculpted. 

Your focus descends even lower, and you see the way his cock is straining against the fabric of his pants, the bulge prominent. You swallow and involuntarily lick your lips in anticipation. 

Desperate to feel his skin, you reach out to touch Orm’s chest.

His muscles are firm and warm beneath your touch as you trace idle patterns. 

You’d have expected him to touch you now and let his fingers wander over your bare skin, but he seems to have frozen. So you look up to meet his eyes - instead of that fiery passion, they now carry a hint of uncertainty.  

Orm’s gaze wanders between you and the surroundings as if grappling with elusive thoughts that demand his attention. The intensity that coloured his actions moments ago wavers, leaving behind a quiet vulnerability that puzzles you. 

You furrow your brows. What happened to that intense, headstrong man who felt like an unwavering current? 

His hair frames his face, and the blue of his eyes, though still vibrant, now mirrors a spectrum of emotions. There’s a depth to his expression, a silent turmoil beneath the surface, a vortex consuming him, pulling him under.

As you study Orm’s features, you sense the weight of something unsaid, and you feel it radiating off him in waves.

Your fingertips gently brush against Orm’s cheek as you reach out in a tender gesture. “Are you okay?” you inquire softly, searching his eyes for any sign of what might be troubling him.

His response is delayed, a moment of hesitation that lingers in the air. Sensing his reluctance to share, you decide to act on a more intuitive level. You reach out and pull him towards you so he also rests on the bed, cradled in your embrace.

“I’m here,” you murmur, the words whispered against his ear as you hold him close. 

Orm shudders against you, his breath grazing your bare skin. It’s evident that he wrestles with unspoken thoughts, the words lingering on the tip of his tongue.

So you decide to lift the weight on his shoulders, and you offer a simple directive, “Let’s just sleep for now. No need to worry about anything.”

As he nestles into your embrace - finally returning it - the tension dissipates from his body, replaced by the comforting rhythm of your shared warmth. 

Your fingers continue their soothing patterns on his back, a gentle effort to anchor him and not let him be adrift in the sea of his thoughts until you both fall asleep. 

The last coherent thought lingering in your mind is that you wouldn’t mind having more moments like this with him - moments that make you feel safe, whole, and strangely content. Only when you feel the soft warmth of his smile against your neck, followed by a tender kiss, you realise that you’ve spoken out loud.

[diminuel]

Ohhh, the Rocks / Edward D. Ace name idea is glorious, the reactions to that alone are great, Wani's would either be angsty or grumpy depending on which one is his father but imagine Whitebeard and/or the other Rocks pirates seeing that first wanted poster, regardless of which name is used, both gotta get a reaction out from them. Big Mom would definitely start hunting Ace down right away.

And I don't think Garp told Sengoku about Ace in canon, I imagine they had Roger's blood on file thanks to the execution or something and used that to check Ace's, I mean, they had to have some real confirmation because otherwise why dig up the rumor of Roger's heir and remind everyone of that clusterfuck? So they really had to be sure that they got the correct person.

I'm always craving angst, so I'm thinking about Rocks D. Ace now because I wonder if that would have changed Whitebeard's reaction to Ace. And oooh, Teach's reaction to Ace! Because all of them know that it's not possible for Ace to be Rock's son, the guy died many years ago. But could the marine have messed up, could Rocks' child have survived?

(It's of course possible that WB knows that the child survived.)

I can imagine that maybe WB is curious but apprehensive about him, but once he meets him he realizes that the fire that burns in Ace is not the same that he saw in Xebec or Xebec's child. And he might advice him not to use that name in public due to the heavy weight it carries (which Ace wouldn't have known. Maybe he artfully dodged any snail calls and letters his family tried to send him. Or maybe the marine even suppressed his chosen last name once Ace left the East Blue and got on people's radars.)

For a bit of WB angst I might also suggest that when Ace fesses up about who his real father is (and who raised him?) he also admits that he found WB's name as well and was contemplating using that. Because maybe for a while Crocodile had seen WB as his father figure? Maybe he had tried out the name? But there must have been a moment of "rejection" from WB so that he buried it again and was just "Crocodile" from then on out.

I just find the whole situation in Marineford a bit strange. It really paints Sengoku (and also Garp) in a bad light... which just clashed with their "eh, I'm retired, this doesn't matter to me anymore" attitude later on.......

Yes, maybe they did have his blood on hand to verify it... (Makes one wonder what they did with Roger's body. Was it "donated" to Vegapunk for research?)