#smoker/original character

[oddmawd]

— THERE'S FIRE Chapter 8: "The Rear Admiral's Intention" (Smoker/OC)

STORY SUMMARY: When Commodore Smoker receives orders to escort a wealthy woman to her new home in the Grand Line, he regards the task before him as little more than glorified babysitting. But there’s more to the Asset than meets the eye, and soon Smoker finds himself drawn to the one woman he’s certain he cannot have. Justice, honor, duty...what do these ideals mean if holding true to them will lose Smoker something precious? Lady Oxley Noa would do anything to protect her family — including sacrifice her own happiness. But when she meets Commodore Smoker, the line between the demands of her duties and the needs of her heart begins to blur. Stolen moments, smoldering glances, unspoken promises...she knows what they must mean, but she can’t afford to place a name to them lest she risk heartbreak unimaginable. But love doesn’t care about your plans. Soon the spark of shared affection blazes too brightly to be ignored, and while neither Smoker nor Noa wants to admit what burns between them, it is an undeniable fact that where there’s smoke — there’s fire. [Smoker x OC. Inspired by Bridgerton and other period romance. Slow burn. Eventual smut.]

TAGS & CONTENT WARNINGS

FANDOM: One Piece

PAIRINGS: Smoker x OC

RATING: Teen+ (so far)

WORD COUNT: 85k total, 15k for chapter 8

GENRE: Romance

TAGS: Mutual pining, romance, slow burn, unresolved sexual tension, attempted kidnapping, inspired by Bridgerton and other period romance, set during the One Piece timeskip, deals with the themes of duty, social class/obligation, political/arranged marriage

WARNINGS: Canon-typical action/violence

EXCERPT: Chapter 8

Down, down, down into the belly of the ship Tashigi plunged, and on her arm she carried a basket of bread and cheese.

It wasn’t the best of either, truth be told. Better examples of both bread and cheese existed in the ship’s carefully guarded pantry. The food on Tashigi’s arm was destined for the scrap pile, and thus it was all the cooks would spare her once they heard Tashigi’s intentions for it. Nevertheless, she hoped the fare would be good enough (she suspected the recipients were none too picky), and she carried it down to the dark brig with shoulders set intently and eyes as hard as iron.

She glanced at her watch before entering the brig: several minutes had passed, leaver her a scant half hour to complete her mission. Tashigi whispered a quiet prayed that Noa could indeed handle the Rear Admiral, as she’d claimed she could. Tashigi trusted Noa, of course, but a well-wish never hurt anyone, right?

Right, she told herself. And so she placed steel in her spine, focused up, and marched into the brig.

Her new friend Noa was counting on her. So was Commodore Smoker. Tashigi had a lot to prove, and now was the time to show her mettle.

The pirates had been sequestered in the largest cell at the very end of the brig, where they sat in a murmuring knot on the floor in military-issue Sea Stone cuffs. As Tashigi climbed down the steps into the brig’s cold dark, her glasses slid down her nose. She didn’t push them back up. She stood silently before the bars of the cell as the pirates within — about a dozen, all bloody and bruised — glared in her direction. But she did not back down or shrink from their gazes. Instead she sat cross-legged before the bars and slid the basket toward them, until woven wicker bumped hard metal.

“Here. Eat.”

The pirates looked understandably confused and unsurprisingly suspicious. She didn’t have time to beat the truth out of them, as they likely expected her to do, nor did she have the time to wait for them to get bored and start yapping to fill silence. Tashigi had another interrogation tactic in mind that night. She’d been inspired by Noa, actually, to try and pull information out of them a different way.

And it appeared her effort to lure them off guard was working. The pirates exchanged glanced and soft murmurs before one weatherbeaten hand reached through the bars. Its owner wore a jaunty hat with a feather in the band, and two of his teeth gleamed gold in the darkness when he bared them in a grin. The pirates’ captain, Tashigi thought.

“A Navy brat’s bringin’ us grub?” he said.

“Think it’s poisoned, Citron?” another pirate asked.

“Gotta be,” said a third.

“No,” said Citron. His hat tipped low over his rheumy eyes, face wizened as an apple left too long in the sun. “That ain’t the military’s style. They like the firin’ squad or the gallows.”

The other pirates considered this a moment.

“Right,” a pirate said, “and they chopped off Gold Roger’s head.”

“We ain’t exactly Gold Roger…” another grumbled.

“Not yet!” a new voice piped in. “Just gimme ten years, mate, and I’ll be the pirate king.”

“Aye, but only if you make it out of here in one piece…”

“If that was a bloody pun, you rat bastard  —  ”

The pirates began to squabble amongst themselves. Citron sighed, cuffed hands wrestling the basket through the prison bars. But when a fighting pirate bumped his shoulder, the basket tumped to the side, and bread spilled on the barren floor. Citron turned and delivered a few harsh smacks and loud rebukes until the men quieted. Satisfied, he reached through the bars to gather up the fallen rolls.

“Why you boverin’ to feed us, anyhow?” he asked.

Tashigi said, “It just seemed polite — oh, don’t eat that, it was on the floor!”

“Lady Marine, I’m a pirate,” said Citron through a mouthful. “I’ve eaten worse.”

The other pirates cackled their agreement. Tashigi’s cheeks burned, but she held her tongue as they passed around the bread and cheese. Citron’s eyes never left hers, even as he took a big bite of dubiously mottled swiss.

“What I’m havin’ a hard time swallowin’ is that you’re just being polite, bringin’ us some grub outta the goodness of your heart.” Elbow on his knee, he pointed a finger her way. “You’re tryin’ to butter us up, aintcha?”

“Nice o’ her to bring us some butter for our bread!”

The pirates hooted and hollered. Tashigi’s heart sank. They were onto her already; how could she sneak the truth from them if they were already onto her?

But, Tashigi told herself, Noa wouldn’t give up so easily. Maybe them knowing her aim was even better. Perhaps she could make the best of it somehow. Channel Noa, channel Noa, channel Noa…

“Yes,” she admitted after a moment. The pirates went quiet, watching her like caged crows. “I brought you that to butter you up. I was given the task of interrogating you because I am the right hand man of this ship’s commanding officer.”

“You?”

“Don’t look like a man to me, right hand or otherwise.”

“Like we give a damn, anyway!” Citron cackled.

“I don’t expect pirates to respect my authority.” Tashigi did her best to keep her voice even. “I don’t expect you to want to talk to me. But I need you to understand that I am your best chance of getting out of that cell alive.”’

Citron looked her over thoughtfully. “You reckon so?”

Tashigi nodded.

“And why’s that?”

“Because Rear-Admiral Glacé just boarded our ship, and I suspect he may try to kill you.”

Read the rest on AO3!

Chapter 8: Click Here

Chapter 1: Click Here

[marciaillust]

on a break

[kmpshitposter]

OC MATT of HER C0MBAT

[prev post] more abt him

[voidedjuice]

My newest pair of idiots

[breakingb4tz]

"and if I cannot be in your life,

then at least let me live in your heart.”

[0riddles0]

Masc lesbian (Reva) fullbody piece 🫡🫡🫡 like I promised.

[22hemi12]

Once again an idea stuck in my head, During the end party of Punk hazard

Smoker: *Drops a photo*

Nami: *Finds the photo of Smoker, Bellemere, Rosinante and Ed (oc)* :0

Smoker:

Nami: SMOKER!

Smoker: 🚬🤨

Nami: *Grips his shoulders* DID YOU F*CK MY MUM?!

Smoker: Wha-?

Nami: *pointing to Belle-mere in the photo* DID. YOU. F*CK. MY. MUM?!

Smoker: WHAT?!

On the back: Wild party goers, Rosinante's first party.

[teratophallia]

Hux HATES this mf on top of him... You asked for some SmokerxHunter, so here you go! Should I draw more of them?

[alieliscious]

Life gets so much more fun when you remember Terry and Korvo are also replicants

Kinda struggling to put my thoughts into a coherent sentence so bear with me

So in S2EP1 it's said that Shlorp has an unseen ruling class reigning over Shlorp with the majority of it's population being workers bred for duty and servitude

This leads me to believe the best and the brightest workers were heavily encouraged to replicate under the lie that their genius is to be passed down from generation to generation and be remembered for centuries when it was really the ruling class breeding out obedient workers to keep their utopia up and running

Whilst Arden welcomed the idea of a replicant with open arms, Knavish did not

Bonus art under cut cuz I didn't want to post just the refs

[tymns]

Artist: Vã Hồng Hài Nhi (Commission)

_ “Don’t worry if you can’t swim. That’s why you had me.”

Former Lieutenant Daiyu and her former boss.

Fishmen Hybrid and Devil Fruit User.

—

As people say, opposites really attract 🙌

[oddmawd]

— THERE'S FIRE Chapter 7: "The Asset in Action" (Smoker/OC)

Summary: When Commodore Smoker receives orders to escort a wealthy woman to her new home in the Grand Line, he regards the task before him as little more than glorified babysitting. But there’s more to the Asset than meets the eye, and soon Smoker finds himself drawn to the one woman he’s certain he cannot have. Justice, honor, duty...what do these ideals mean if holding true to them will lose Smoker something precious?

Lady Oxley Noa would do anything to protect her family — including sacrifice her own happiness. But when she meets Commodore Smoker, the line between the demands of her duties and the needs of her heart begins to blur. Stolen moments, smoldering glances, unspoken promises...she knows what they must mean, but she can’t afford to place a name to them lest she risk heartbreak unimaginable.

But love doesn’t care about your plans. Soon the spark of shared affection blazes too brightly to be ignored, and while neither Smoker nor Noa wants to admit what burns between them, it is an undeniable fact that where there’s smoke — there’s fire.

[Smoker x OC. Inspired by Bridgerton and other period romance. Slow burn. Eventual smut.]

TAGS & CONTENT WARNINGS

FANDOM: One Piece

PAIRINGS: Smoker x OC

RATING: Teen+

WORD COUNT: 69k total, 13.6k for chapter 7

GENRE: Romance

TAGS: Mutual pining, romance, slow burn, unresolved sexual tension, attempted kidnapping, inspired by Bridgerton and other period romance, set during the One Piece timeskip, deals with the themes of duty, social class/obligation, political/arranged marriage

WARNINGS: Canon-typical action/violence, descriptions of minor wounds and wound care

CHAPTER 7 - Excerpt

Rear Admiral Glacé’s warship, a brutish hulk of a vessel topped in a skeletal tangle of rattling rigging and furled sails, loomed over Smoker’s cruiser. Sailors tossed over lines and hooks and mooring poles, binding the ships together as they anchored for the night. Though the ships were to be unified, men aboard both stood along the bulwarks in watchful defense, unwilling participants in an alliance no one wanted yet no one had the gall to reject. The barrels of rifles and curves of cutlasses gleamed in the light of flickering oil lamps. Smoker paid them no mind, eyes fixed on the long gangway beginning to lower from the warship’s deck down to his cruiser, winches slowly unwinding, a guillotine falling in slow motion. 

He turned to Tashigi and Oxley. Both looked at him with determination, though Oxley’s was tempered with a strange, small smile. He took out his watch, noting the time, tipping it toward them so they could all watch the minute hand strike the hour.

“Remember your orders?” Smoker muttered.

“Yes sir,” said Tashigi.

“Dismissed.”

He put his watch away. Tashigi trotted off. The men (arranged in as close to a formation as the ragtag dogs of Unit 01 could achieve) parted like water around her. She vanished through a door and down a set of stairs; from behind the door came a thud and a muted ‘ouch.’ Some of the men chuckled at her clumsiness. Others grumbled under their breaths, envious she didn’t have to welcome the Rear Admiral too.

A look from Smoker silenced the lot of ‘em quick enough. Oxley, meanwhile, adjusted the blanket she wore like a makeshift shawl around her shoulders and straightened her spine. She stared at the still-lowering gangplank (a long, unwieldy thing) with lips pressed tight and firm.

“I remember my mission, as well.” Her dark eyes sparkled; a sly curl of her upper lip cracked her calm composure. “It’s rather electrifying, having one. Do you feel like this all the time?”

The question felt like a trap, even if she didn’t mean it as one. So all Smoker said was, “Try not to have too much fun.”

Oxley replied, “No promises.”

In contrast to the flurry of activity aboard the paired vessels, the ocean stretched still and calm toward the horizon, black as ink in any direction. Their rendezvous point amid the waters of the Grand Line had been set via Den Den Mushi by communications personnel, away from the site of the battle and any attention it may have attracted. The Rear Admiral had arrived shortly after the battle ended, and a scant half hour after Smoker and Oxley negotiated the terms of their alliance in his cabin. Which left them precious little opportunity to coordinate their next move with Tashigi, granted, but there was no time to go over the details again. Now was time for action.

Well. Time for Oxley to spring into action, anyway.

Smoker didn’t like this plan much — which is to say, he hated its goddamn guts. He’d said so at the time, but the two women he called allies had more or less bullied him into going along with it anyway, the pair of them glaring like pit vipers when he told them such. The key player in all this stood at his side upon the lower decks as the gangway descended, clutching the blanket-turned-shawl about her shoulders, head held high under the night wind. Oxley didn’t look intimidated to be thrown to the proverbial wolves. But…

Smoker cleared his throat. “Oxley.”

Dark eyes cut toward him. “Yes, Commodore?”

“Do you think you can…?”

“I can handle the Rear Admiral. Just you wait.” And yet her confidence faded. She took a deep breath, teeth worrying her lower lip. “But…”

Smoker frowned. “But what?”

Another deep breath. She smiled tightly. “Please, Smoker,” she said. “Do not hold anything I say against me.” When he only arched a brow, she said, “The Game can be — ”

Oxley didn’t get to finish. The gangplank hit the deck with a thud followed swiftly by the sound of marching feet. A small squad bearing rifles crossed the bridge, twin rows of soldiers clad in pressed and pristine uniforms preceding the steps of Rear Admiral Glacé. The man wore a billowing greatcoat with gold epaulettes on his shoulders, chest festooned with rank insignia that glimmered in the light of the nearby lamps. Smoker, in contrast, wore his usual short white jacket with green fur trim, shoulders empty of epaulettes, insignia traded for bandoliers of cigars. These juxtaposed details told a story, visuals highlighting the difference between his rank and the Rear Admiral’s.

And those details weren’t the only things marking their respective stations. The Rear Admiral had leaned into his position whole hog. Shoes shined to a wicked polish, trousers freshly pressed, and a tailored grey blazer with matching waistcoat held shut with gold buttons — yeah, this man wanted his station known on sight. His personal grooming said the same. He wore his hair in a long, neat ponytail down his back, face shaved perfectly clean. Not a speck of grime on him, Smoker reckoned. The Rear Admiral’s warship looked likewise spotless, with shiny decks and prim sails like it hadn’t been at sea for more than a day. Not at all like Smoker’s ragtag cruiser. The dogs of Unit 01 howled when asked to scrub or sweep…

Had Oxley noticed the differences between Smoker and the Read Admiral? If she did, she gave no sign. She just stood demurely at Smoker’s side, watching the Rear Admiral approach in silence. His polished boots clacked across the deck, coat fanning artfully in his wake. Narrow green eyes swept over Oxley up and down before alighting on Smoker.

“Commodore Smoker, I presume,” the Rear Admiral said in rich, smooth tenor.

“Rear Admiral Glacé.” Smoker didn’t bother saluting, and his voice sounded like a growling wolf’s in comparison. “This is — ”

He side-stepped Smoker as if he hadn’t said a word. “And this fetching creature must be Lady Oxley Noa,” said the Rear Admiral, white-gloved hands reaching for woman in question. Glacé dipped a bow, heels clicking together smartly. “A delight to meet you, my Lady. I am Glacé Felix, Rear Admiral and commander of G-4’s highest ranking military unit.”

“Charmed,” Oxley said, “I’m sure.”

Ever the graceful Lady, she extended her hand. The Rear Admiral took it in his own and kissed her knuckles, thin lips pressing softly against the bandages upon them. Oxley smiled back, unflinching. Smoker’s hands balled into fists. The pair of them together painted a pretty picture, he grudgingly admitted. A tightness spreading in his chest, accompanied by a deep, burning inhale on his cigar — 

Tashigi was not there, but he could practically hear her mutter, “Steady.”

Smoker released the breath, a plume of ash rising to the moon.

READ THE REST OF CHAPTER 7 on AO3!

[gallery-in-the-forest]

Charlie with his Marine auntie and uncles!

[okamithehound]

And a little more one piece!

I recently bought such wonderful key chains, and painted Aki with Zoro.

[ol-thomas]

Updated OC design: 💜 Spencer (Smoker Guy)🚬

[number1caesarclownhater]

No thoughts behind those eyes

[ajulesr]

Year hiatus over?