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Welcome to a very fun wing of the Toadstool Mansion, my little corner of the internet for all my silly little musings. I'm Bede, just a 20-something writer, philosopher, artist, and lover of several very self indulgent subgenres of life.
I write both fandom (the majority is for One Piece, anime, and video games I love) and original works (both smutty short stories and novels, featuring monsters). You can get anything posted here early by supporting me on Patreon or Ream!
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My obsessions takes the from of romantic and erotic fiction, the philosophy of sex, and frogs. I imagine if you're here, you also love to imagine yourself--or whoever--whisked away into worlds of magic, drama, and love, both in familiar contexts and our strangest obscure fantasies.
Commanding, intense, loyal. I love the masculine eye, imagining how he thinks and feels, and what it means for him to be in pleasure. All my work is dedicated to him, the lover who never leaves me, and let me introduce him to you through a thousand faces both masculine and feminine.
Whether you are taken away by the hand of an original character, or slipping into the shoes of a reader insert in a fantasy you already love, each story endeavors to stimulate the imagination and eliminate the strict bounds of reality. Every word is mine, I never have and never will use AI.
If you'd like to keep up with this work, please follow me on Ream and get access to access to the entire catalog! Also books, adorable frogs, commissions, and more can be found at the Toadstool Mansion, home of Self Indulgent Fiction, where you are encouraged to have your cake and savor every last morsel.
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~With Love, Bede
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𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 The Hind Explained (Not Explicit Informational) "An Introduction to my version of omegaverse, the rules of which many of my novels and shorts operate under."
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CHAPTER 27: We Made it!! The Grand Line, Here We Come!
Alpha!Zoro x Omega!Reader | Alpha!Luffy x Reader | (EVENTUAL) Iota!Nico Robin x Omega!Reader | Platonic Everyone Else x Reader
[An Omegaverse One Piece Rewrite][Updates Every Wednesday]
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Word Count: 4k
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When they first set sail this way a month ago, now a solid crew of six, they'd decided the route they'd be taking to the Grand Line. Even before they'd landed at Lodge Town, they'd picked their exit route.
Of course, Luffy wouldn't want to take a normal, easy path to the ground line. He picked the one that seemed most fun.
Though they could have bought a new map of the East Blue while they were in town, he'd decided to follow the one that had gotten them here, the one that was faded and old, the one they'd stolen at the start of the journey--Buggy's map.
The map they'd stolen from Buggy was archaic, Nami explained. It mapped out what had been the common method of travel a century ago, marking none of the secondary cuts through the Calm Belt or over the Red Line which had been made by either industrious merchants, pirates, or the marines in the last few decades.
Even Zoro knew a few of the sea hopping routes, and none were listed on the map.
As they went over all this, Luffy asked questions. Lots of questions. Silly questions about the sea someone who wanted to be Pirate King should have probably already known the answers to. Though Zoro hadn't known most of what he'd learned either, that was beside the point.
Sanji treated them both like idiots while Nami and (y/n) actually tried to explain. The omega stood up and made a big sheet of paper like a presentation board, and drew pictures on it as Nami lectured them.
Their world was divided into six sections. The four major oceans, the East, West, South, and North Blues, then the two inner seas which ran around the circumference of their planet perpendicular to the longest stretching land mass around—the Red Line.
The Red Line was a great big mountain range which towered above the sea in all directions. Completely insurmountable from most sides as it was demarked by huge sheer cliff faces that were nearly impossible to climb. The mountains separated the East and South Blue oceans from the West and North. The two inner seas, the Calm Belt and the Grand Line, split the East from South, and the North from West on both sides of the Red Line.
The Calm Belt was completely still waters which separated the oceans from the most inner sea. The Grand Line was that sea. A wild and unpredictable place where all logic broke down, said to be connected under the mountains though deep current ways, and making the Grand Line the only water that crossed from North to South.
This Sanji made sure to make a big deal of, as the only thing that seemed to match his obsession with women, was his obsession with cooking and fresh ingredients. The Grand Line apparently hide a place called the All Blue, where fish from all the seas lived together, and it was a childhood dream of his (and the dream of every chef!) to see it.
Zoro couldn't understand what could be so special about fish, or why all the fish would have to live in one sea for him to cook with them, but Sanji seemed intent on finding it. While Nami explained some of this as if it wasn't totally certain, Sanji would hear none of it.
Sanji, in a wistful voice, said that would confirm the existence of the All Blue, and cook a dish with fresh fish from every sea. It had been his dream since he was a boy. So, any suggestion that it didn't or couldn't exist was quickly shut down. All Blue was as real as the One Piece, and Zoro could respect that Sanji was just as serious over it's existence as Luffy was.
It was just as intent as Nami was to map the whole ocean. And as Usopp was to finally get brave. As (y/n) was to witness greatness, and for Zoro to become the strongest swordsman in the world. For any of them to get close to these goals, the had to do one, important thing...
Get to the Grand Line.
Reverse Mountain was one way to cross from the East Blue to the Grand Line, and maybe the only way with the amount of money they had. Nami was sure to mention that it seemed to also be the only way they could go without daring to enter the Calm Belt, which was invested with monsters and almost impossible to cross in a boat like theirs.
There was no wind in there, and no currents to ride. So unless they wanted to paddle for weeks and fight mountain sized monsters, there would be no crossing from that way, though she was obvious trepidations of the "traditional" route.
The mountain in questions was one of the great wonders of the world. The strong currents from the ocean butt against the cliffs to make a huge current, which illogically pushed the water up the mountain until it crested and slid down the other side into the Grand Line.
The moment he'd understood what exactly it was, Luffy insisted on them taking that pass. It was dangerous, of course. But it was also free, which seemed best for the stores. They needed to save their beri's wherever they could.
Reverse Mountain was now a place now more of legend than useful. It was so old-fashioned of a way onto the Grand Line, that all of them were confident neither Buggy's crew (if they managed to escape detainment) or the Marines would even think of following them out that direction, even if they could catch up once the weather died down.
So, they sailed a way from Lodge Town under the cover of an intensifying storm, knowing the only thing that stood between them and leaving the East Blue were their own sailing skills.
Though Nami made sure to warn them all that the storm did not look like it would be abating anytime soon. And she was more right about that than even she'd thought.
It was the roughest sea they'd sailed in the few months they'd been pirates. The wind and rain would not sate. They were being beaten by the weather worse than if they had been chased. Because at least Luffy could block cannon fire. The rain was an unbeatable enemy, and a relentless one too.
It was a battle day and night to keep them on course as the Going Merry was tossed around on the rough waves. They took turns in shifts to keep from being capsized or blown back out into the middle of the East Blue with Nami up the most of any of them, shouting orders and trying to keep the helm straight. There was little time for any of them to rest though, and when the storm settled down into just a heavy rain, they were all miserable and exhausted.
Nami assured them they were on the edge of the storm and out of danger, so they pulled the sails and let the Merry rest along with the rest of the crew for a few hours, and once they all slept and had a good meal, they'd take on Reverse Mountain and finally be on the Grand Line.
Luffy'd been so excited at that news he insisted that he couldn't sleep—only to collapse instantly into his hammock and begin snoring just a moment later. They were all like that, thankful for more than forty-five minutes of uneasy shut-eye now it didn't feel like the ship could flip over at any moment. While Nami might have done the brunt of the navigational work the last week, the men of the Strawhat Crew were responsible for the physical side of operating the ship and it was certainly brutal labor.
Even in his sleep Usopp was complaining about his soreness, and he'd passed out just as quickly as Luffy did. Sanji was also out cold--Nami forbade him rom trying to cook while the storm raged so he could man the helm, leaving Owleyes to cook and ensure the stores and cabins weren't destroyed by the boat rocking. The rest of the time there was a bucket in her hand—often times alongside Usopp—as she near constantly pailed water out of the hull in a victoryless battle against the sea.
And so everyone was reaching the limits of their stamina. He was sure she and Nami were just as tired, and in the girls cabin slumped over and completely sedated.
Zoro was no less exhausted, and yet he found himself waking up after only an hour or so of sleep. After that, unable to relax no matter how he tossed and turned. An itching feeling in his head, the scratching of his instinctual mind getting his attention, was demanding he get up. With a frustrated half growl at himself, he got out of his hammock and made way to the helm's room—since there was really nowhere else to go and he didn't want to sit around listening to everyone else getting the sleep in he wished he could.
Envy, he concluded, legitimately too tired for this feeling to be considered slothful.
Outside it was still raining hard, but the wind didn't cut and shake them. Despite the downpour, the ocean was only rolling instead of a more fearsome crashing. Tired and rubbing his eyes, he stumbled into the helms room shirtless and now wet again, into what should have been the empty, lifeless helm's room part-kitchen.
Except when he opened the door he was not alone. Though the room was mostly dark, there was a lamp lit on the table and a figure sitting beside it.
"Good evening, Mr. Roronoa." Owleyes smiled and for a moment he forgot to breathe. She was writing something, but now put her quill down and set all her warm welcome attention on him, "Couldn't sleep either?"
"Guess not."
He sat in the chair across from her, the wood legs squeaking against the floor in a familiar way, a winging peel against the background patter of rainfall. She looked tired, he thought, and he wondered if she'd slept at all. With a glance down at the open book on the table, he recognizes the Log Book and figures that after the last few days of storming she probably hasn't had any time to update it.
It was a little strange just how dedicated she was to her role as book keep, but she took it very seriously. The only one who even glanced sideways at the bookshelf in here was Nami, and maybe Usopp if he was looking for a manual, but it was nicely kept, as were all the stores which were always nicely organized and easy to restock. It was a minor convenience but one he noticed.
He leaned back, not commenting as he felt her owlish gaze looked him up and down. Though he would admit to feeling a little self-satisfied until he immediately deflated when she said—
"Would you like a towel?"
Oh yeah, she wasn't giving him a look to make his heart beat skip, he was sopping wet. She was already passing one his way before he could answer. And he didn't really acknowledge her added, it should be dry by now.
With a muttered thanks he took it and ruffled the towel until his hair was no longer dripping before whipping off his face and shoulders and setting it off to the side, trying to think about how it smelled too good. Dangerously good.
He really couldn't let himself think about where she might have dried off with it, and how now that scent was rubbed into his hair, and against his nose.
She must have known, right? She wasn't that naive.
Was she teasing him?
As tossed the towel on the table, he remembered another aspect of sin he'd been contemplating lately which was much less philosophical.
Zoro was beginning to feel like a pervert.
He was tormented by the memory of her mouth. Every casual touch against his arm felt like a tease. The temptation of her body just nearby made him struggle against the animal in him all his waking hours.
He hated this feeling, like he was wanting for something that he couldn't have and yet he clearly could have. She liked him too, she had too, and yet she kept this careful distance with him more often than not. Until she didn't.
Like right now when she stood up and caught him with that stare, her head turned sideways as she studied him. Without looking down, she closed the book she'd been working in and pushed it to the side. The she set her elbow where it had been and leaned over. Glancing up and down his face again, he narrows his eyes unsure of what she's intending.
"You look stiff, Mr. Roronoa." Her voice was soft and compelling.
He rolls his neck and shoulders automatically.
Now that she's mentioned it though, he does feel really stiff. His shoulders are tense and he feels tighter than he should. Deck work was something he wasn't used to yet, but served as good as training as weightlifting did. Though it made him sorer.
"I'll sleep it off." He says with a dismissive shrug.
She smirked, obvious amused, "Nonsense. Something must be keeping you up, let me help you relax."
The way she said relax making him feel anything but. Excitement was a rush but he froze in place. Was it any surprise his mind dipped into the well of fantasy which he tried so hard not to think about when she was right in front of him? He made a face; he could feel his eyebrows furl together as he tried to quickly figure out what those words could mean besides the obvious.
"I'll be gentle, I promise, I've been told I'm very good at giving massages."
Oh.
"A massage? Like to my shoulders?"
She had the nerve to giggle, "Yes, if you don't want to lay down for me. If you did, I could do your whole back though, I don't mind at all. It relaxes me too."
He thought about that one a moment. "I don't know why that would be a problem."
"Oh!" She looked a little surprised and then her smile grew wider. "Then you should lay down on your belly and use the towel to rest your head—if it's not too damp."
Trying to shrug off his sudden nervousness, he just nods as nonchalantly as he can. Before laying out on his stomach, he stretches out and grabs the towel. It's a casual gesture, but he feels greedy making it. Once he's flat against the wood slatted floor, she slips off her own seat and circles around to his other side while he listens to every step intently wondering what she may be thinking. Or more like what he wished she would.
Of all life's possible miseries, he'd never considered that lust could be one.
"Do what you want." He says before she touches him.
"Tell me it anything hurts." She replies.
Minutely, he nodded and let the room quiet.
Her hands pressed against his bare back, the palms roaming first just curiously over his spine. The lightness almost made him shiver. And it did not hurt, of course it didn't.
After the initial aching he felt for her touch—and his antsiness for more of it—faded from scorching intensity to just burning, the feeling of her hands kneading into him was actually remarkably relaxing. Her hands moved slowly and deliberately. She found the tight spots on his shoulders with an ease that felt practiced.
It must have been an aspect of devil fruit users, as Luffy's rubber body had a similarly inhuman texture, but her hands shifted between feeling like skin and then something smoother. Though her body was hot, clearly he noted all the places she radiated onto him, her hands were as cold as untouched paper. Maybe she could control that.
As the heel of her palms dug into his flesh, it was always with an incrementally increasing pressure, like pages shifting sides in a book. It was a very gentle tenderization, making him feel like he was melting.
"Luffy would like this." He mumbles, cursing himself instantly for mentioning another crew member right now, let alone another alpha. They'd been in companionable silence for a while now, and this wasn't what he'd wanted to say to break it. Oh well...
"But his flesh is made of rubber, does it get all wound up or tight?" She wondered.
Zoro lets out a gruff half-spoken reply. "He says so."
"Well, I'll have to ask him about that then. And the rest of the crew. Might be a nice treat after everyone worked so hard. Let's hope the weather on the other side of the Red Line is a little more welcoming, then we can take the time to laze a while."
He nodded, to keep himself from putting his foot in his mouth again, and just enjoyed her hands. And really, if it was with the crew, he could share them. Even with Sanji. That made him pause—he'd been put in a remarkably good mood if even the passing thought of Sanji didn't irritate him...
Zoro wasn't exactly sure when he fell asleep, but he woke up to the same patter of rain he remembered as his lullaby.
The smell of breakfast wafting around him was his first alarm to rise, though soon after he heard Luffy yelling about something already. The words only forming into something meaningful after he shook his head to shake the sleep fog off. Despite laying face first on the floor, that was the best sleep he'd gotten in a while.
The crew gathered together over food with a quickness not long after and Nami warned them sternly that reason the storm was calmer here was no coincidence. Nami had directed them veer near the Calm Belt, where the weather would be forced to calm down so they could rest, and now that everyone was up, they'd be headed back into the worst of it.
So, they ate well, now satisfied with how rested they felt, and would set sail sooner than later. Bur for now....
Luffy's loudness attracts Zoro's attention eventually when he says, "Ah, that is great! I feel like I can stretch another mile!"
"I'm glad I could help, Captain." (y/n) answers, though she sounds tired.
Zoro gets up, and Luffy calls his attention over, announcing that she was giving them all massages since he saw her giving Nami, who saw her giving him one, and then one wanted one herself. A very light blush hits her cheeks and she looks away from him, having watched him turn around the stairs and come down with a little smile that's now faded. And Zoro finds he has no idea what that look is supposed to mean.
Looking bright as ever, Luffy turns to Usopp, who's just left the helm room. Both arms up he yells, "Usopp! (y/n)'s giving massages, you should get one, it feels amazing!"
Usopp looks a bit embarrassed before bolstering up and spouting something about not needing something like that. He was relaxed as a sea cucumber 24/7 and that real men didn't get massages anyway. And Sanji behind him over hears and asks for a massage with a wave of his hands, looking all too excited.
But before Zoro could muster up a protest, Nami interjects, they have to get going soon, so no more time for laying around! Even though she and Luffy totally did, and at this the cook deflates. Zoro laughs. That look, at the very least, was extremely satisfying.
It is soon time to head back into the storm, though they all feel in much higher spirits. The storm continues to rage, but Nami keeps telling them to keep course and just a day later they see the mighty Red Line, towering over them, and the legendary entrance to Reverse Mountain.
Luffy pulled them away from their duties, letting the ship bob and sway, but insisting on one last rite before they left the East Blue behind and made way to the most challenging ocean in all the seas.
They dragged out an empty oak barrel, one with a hole on the bottom they couldn't use anymore, and stood around it. It was this moment they declared to one another their dream, solidified the bond that would keep them together through the next trials.
Sanji declared first, "To finding All Blue!"
"To becoming Pirate King!" Luffy yelled.
Zoro followed, "To being the greatest swordsman!"
"To mapping the world!" Then Nami cheered.
(Y/n) joined in, "To witnessing greatness!"
Finally, Usopp gathered his guts to splutter, "T-to becoming a brave warrior of the sea!"
As they squashed the barrel, letting it shatter into a million pieces. A promise between was made, one that swore on the wood of this ship and the bonds between them, that they would see this journey though. And in that moment, Zoro felt like they really started to become more than just crewmates.
A choking, hopeful kind of feeling.
They cheered, Nami turning to (y/n) to pull her in, and then Luffy pulling them all into a big hug as the rain poured with a vicious bite. It was elating until the ship veered dangerously left and they all had to run back into position. The ship was steering itself while they'd been distracted, almost bumbling into a now long abandoned ornate gate around the entrance of the river mouth. A flameless lamp above it lighting the way eternally kept them on track but could not save them from running into the stone.
With a scream they all rushed to maneuver the ship out of the way, knowing they couldn't make it. Sanji and Zoro both head to the helms room, running to throw their weight to the rudder as Luffy and Usopp try to wrangle the sails. Nami is yelling directions, (y/n) only confirms what they all know—the mountain is getting closer, and they're about to run into it.
Sanji pulls as hard as he can in the opposite way, fighting against the might of the sea, and just as they think the ship might be turning—the rudder suddenly snapped.
There's just a moment of shocked, silent panic. Panic that is followed by Usopp running around like a chicken, Zoro and Sanji running out on deck to maybe catch a strong wind that might turn them sharply out of the way. They arrive on deck just as they are about to ram right into the gate—it's too late, there's no way they're not crashing, though that doesn't stop them both from at least trying to race to the sails.
But Luffy burst forward, doing the impossible and inflating his body like a balloon to bounce the boat off the stone. It did so, forcing all the air out of his body, and he nearly dropped into the rough sea, just stretching out in time to be dragged back on board by Zoro's outreached hand. They were both soaking with sea water and landed on the deck with a huff.
It was just in time too, because the Merry was taken by the current and was rushing up the mountain so quickly it almost felt like they were flying. The wind blowing them all back and the ocean mist stinging their skin, the spirit of adventure alive in their victorious laughter and amazement.
And Zoro looked over at Owleyes, who watched as the ship ascended the rapid waters and shot them far, far, up into the sky. And she looked over her shoulder, opening up her arms in his direction and delight sparkled her eyes.
"We did it!" She added to the sounds of joy in the crew, and Zoro nodded, more surprised than anyone.
They did it.
They'd actually made it to the Grand Line.
...
The END of BOOK ONE
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a/n: It's over!!
But don't worry, next week the next books starts up... and we're headed to Alabasta, with lots of relationship drama to be had in the meanwhile~ I hope you'll enjoy it just as much as this book.
Be well my self indulgent friends. With love,
Bede
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[How pretty the Anemone and the Rose are, side by side.]
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Beta Graham looked somewhat crestfallen as Ronan merely glanced at the letter from Castle Kunda and quickly tossed it to the side.
He could not help himself but comment. “Master, I truly wish you would take this offer more seriously than you are. This is an honor and a kindness on the part of your father. You should not be so quick to dismiss the maidens or what it means to take one within our rank.”
“I will take it as seriously as I am able.” Ronan replied with an unintended curtness, ending the conversation with a resigned sigh and a promise to try and take the proceedings more seriously.
Going back to work, Beta Graham’s words did linger on Ronan’s mind.
It was perhaps kind that the Headship was still allowing them a choice, even if it was from a limited pool. Ronan thought it over, then dismissed the idea. It was more like it would be nearly impossible to make an arranged political marriage to his pack, given that August and Conrad were members of it.
And had he forced a specific partner…
Well, it would not have ended well.
Nevertheless, when it was lunch time when they all gathered to see what men and woman were on offer for them.
While Galen seemed thrilled, a look of trepidation flashed into Tobias’s frown. He had been half way through his meal and rather happily pretending like he hadn’t heard anything about a package, or what it contained. Conrad made no comment, and August made a grunt which was neither approval or disapproval.
Nevertheless, they all gathered around when the package was placed on the dining table, so that they may face their fate together.
“What in the hell is this?” August grumbled, while Galen in an opposite, upbeat tone similarly asks, “Oh? What is this?”
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Full Chapter Length: 2.7
Book Length: 17 Chapters (64k Words)
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[New chapters every Monday at 5pm EST]
Want more? This excerpt is from an ongoing story published on Patreon and Ream, follow to find full chapters of the rest there (and the first three for free)!
Last part for horseman with reader head where they found her body and horseman is like this women I wanna marry (smut)
Sorry if this ended up more sweet and plot heavy than smutty... I just wanted to give them kind of a happy ending and an intense hot scene just didn't really fit in as I was writing!
Thank you for requesting and I hope that it still hope it satisfied~
The Headless Horseman's Bride | Here | The Headless Horseman's Savior | The Enthralled Horseman
WC: 2k
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CH. 1 | CH. 2 | CH. 3
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The headless horseman, no longer so headless, was quick to make up for the years of silence you spent riding with him. Apparently, he had many things he’d wanted to say all that while and now that he had the chance, he was intent on trying to say them all.
There were endless questions. Endless. So, while talking to your now complete lover, you learned about him and he about you. There were many things about yourself that you’d never shared with him over the years, simply because you never thought to.
Through his questions, something astonishing happened. You also learned about you. And you came to a rather startling conclusion which hadn’t really crossed your mind before. Well, he surprised you a lot actually. Especially with this task he’d uptaken of trying to find your body after you’d found his head.
That was in its own say unexpected, but there was a secondary surprise which should have been more obvious than it appeared in the moment which made you kind of speechless after he started asking you questions that should have been easy to answer.
When did you die? How did it happen? Where were you? How long did you wander before he found you? What was your human life like?
And as you struggled on these simple questions, he came to simple conclusion: You were a much older ghost than he. Old ghost often had the foggiest memory, and yours was very foggy indeed.
There was something about the changing pace of the world you and he roamed as ghosts which never seemed out of place to you. Even with no head, you could tell when he’d get confused when the roads changed and the people on them did to. You’d never been startled by any advancement of the earth in your time roaming it as a spirit.
Perhaps because everything seemed so constantly unfamiliar it no longer shocked you to see it become new again.
But, as you attempted to convey to him your vaguest memories of when and where it is you might have last seen your body, you came to realize nothing in this world was as you remembered it “then” and there was no place like that you could recall ever seeing in recent years. It made it very hard to remember these things you were supposed to, and instead you fixated on the world.
Even the thicket of the trees was different from your deepest vaguest memories. The animals less rugged looking, and overall lacking in much of their hair. The horses were all more elegant, and the way of the roads tread by hooves and carriages, and carried all sorts of contraptions you had no language for.
And the clothes! Especially the new kinds of hats the living seemed to be constantly inventing, were so different—though you had to admit that you like them more and more than anything rugged you could distantly picture.
Yes. It turned out were very very old, from a time when man mostly wandered his way through the wilds instead of tending it with settlements and farms. You were from the turn in time just before this happened, a relic. Perhaps the last ghost from your age, or damn near it.
As you began to come to terms with this, he would give you time to think—especially during the day when you and he could not travel. And when you thought very hard though, you could remember your death. It was a savage thing. Brutal and traumatizing (this may be why you had tired your hardest to forget it.) Some other tribe coming to take over yours, or maybe the other way round? Either way, it ended in you being slaughtered.
It was too long ago for any of the details to matter much. But you remember the field in which your head parted your shoulders, near a rather rugged mountain range. You couldn’t imagine a sight like that would have changed much—even over many, many, many years—so you and the horseman took to the road to find this vista.
You had to travel differently, spending more time in his saddle bag than on his shoulders, which was understandable but made you feel a bit useless. And only when the pair of you are alone on the road in the dark of night do you dare show yourself, lest you cause the living to scream and fright. Passing the bright of the day is so much more enjoyable when he can talk, this much is at least an improvement from the days of your one-sided yapping.
It takes far longer than either of you expect to find the place you imagined. It is very far from where he fell, and far from the grounds he has always haunted. How did you get so far away from your haunt and made your way to his?
This the horseman now teases you over, as you search the skyline for the horizon that exists on the edge of your memory.
Then you find it. More so than recognizing the vista, it’s a compulsion that overcomes the moment you cross the threshold of your death place. It’s just sunrise, outside some small town though not so far from the road. With no fear of being seen, you roll off the horse and head into a fettered field.
It looks as if this place was once a far, but the few scattered buildings have obviously been abandoned. With a desire that was second only for the attachment you had for the re-headed horseman; you feel called to your body. The sound of the horseman’s feet hitting ground and following after you, as you roll across the bumpy ground.
This is where you died: you’re sure of it.
“Have we made it, love?” He asks you.
“Yes. It must be somewhere here…” You say with a strained way.
Are you happy? Or more trepidatious?
You rattle off some more, mostly talking to yourself as you roll around and attempt to find the center of the pull. He, as he understands this strange calling you have towards this land, does the work you did for him in combing the field from his higher vantage point to see if your ghostly body might appear before the sun fully rises.
The horseman finds you. Calling you over with a call of your name as he pulls your person out of the soil, as it now struggles to find its way out from the layers of soil that had long covered it. You’re garbed in a rough dress made of animal skin, with bare feet and somewhat shredded clothes. The first thing you think when you see your body is—damn, I wish I died in something nicer!
However, your horseman has no distraction. With some reverence, he turns to uptake your head and then puts it back on your shoulders and so that you may finally refuse.
For one moment nothing happens. Then you feel a kind of strange zapping sensation that almost cracks you like a heartbeat and once again, you are whole.
It’s startling that you have a body again. This is the first sensation. You aren’t alive, so you don’t feel a heartbeat, or once again warm. It’s like a jumbling mass of incoherent pieces have been forced below you, and you’ve become ten times taller.
Unable to even hold yourself steady at first, you fall into his arms, and thankfully he catches you before tumble over.
Once your arms will obey your orders and move without awkward jittering and jolting, the first thing you do is touch his face. Running your hand over his cheeks, then the line of his neck which you spent so many hours sitting upon, and then his shoulder. Your gaze ticks towards his, and there is a rush of emotion that meets yours.
It’s then, you cannot withhold, and you press your lips to his for a passionate kiss in which you can finally touch him. Where you may decide to hold him, whether to chase him when he tries to part from your amorous affection or to relent. It is a sweet, sweet moment.
His thumb traces over your bottom lip, when he declares, “You drive me mad sometimes, but, if I could…”
You’re still breathless.
“What?”
“I just wish I could have spent my life with you.” He admits. “A real life. One where I didn’t get carted off the military and my head chopped off—a good life, you know.”
At this, a laugh bubbles up from you, and you ask, “You would have married me?”
He nods solemnly. “Yes.”
“Well…” you then run a hand through his hair, admiring him for a moment, and that you may touch his ghostly figure. “I’ll be modest and just hope for an eternity more of what we have had. That’s more than any get in life.”
“Then is it terrible that I will still desire that and more?”
“You could still marry me.” You offer.
“Here?”
Nodding, you add, “In front of the sunrise, before we must retreat for the Day.”
“But we have no minister?”
“Do we need one?”
“No.” He agrees. “No, we do not. I will marry you, here and now. As I say, so it shall be.” He then lifted you up by the waist and spun you around, and declared. “You are my wife!”
“Then we are wed, husband!” You giggle in a carefree way as he places you back on the ground, then more coyly add, “Will you have me now that I am whole, as man and wife should in the eyes of the most glorious?”
At this he goes obviously bashful. “Insatiable woman.” He chastises you, but his tone is soft. Nor does his reprimand stop his wandering hands from enjoying the curves of your form with his firm grasp.
“And I’m afraid only you can sate me, since I’ve been made whole by your hand.”
“Then I’ll have to fulfil the needs of my wife, now, won’t I?”
This promise he sealed with another kiss, just a shy bit sweeter than any you shared before. And at this, that place in your chest where your heart should be felt suddenly warm.
Though you thought for a moment that this was because of how happy you felt, in truth it was the first touch of sunlight on your ghostly skin. Ghosts could not be in the strong heat of daylight for every long, not even semi-corporeal headless riders. But he was not so headless anymore, and you were also very much a normal ghost.
He, feeling just as compelled and to distracted to recognize the danger, lays you down on the ground before him. Your ghostly clothes move with his hands to disappear into the grass, as do his as he undresses.
Laying upon you an affection which startles you, in this moment, he seems so intent to repay you for all the times you have relived his tension with your mouth.
Kissing down the front of your body, a trail of sweet affection more than distracts from the oncoming sunrise, even as the light of day ticks across the overgrown lot. Your fingers slip into his hair as his head comes to a stop at the place between your legs which is now newly attached and sensitive.
He dives between your thighs, until you’re a moaning kind of melted feeling of good, taken off guard by how honestly eager he is, but it only makes it more enjoyable. Pleasure builds up your back and finally, you think, how grateful you are for him. And how glad you are to be whole, if only so the two of you can be together like people should.
In a climax which colors the back of the eyelids white with an internal sort of light, a warmth which does not belong to the undead comes over the two of you. You, who have across all odds and ages, have found love, and in the after such care and attachment is looked on with great boon, as new life has been found between you, rather than a rotting, lingering, old one.
With no upset, no feeling really besides a unified sense of satisfaction, gratitude and love, the now whole couple moves on into the next world—whatever that may be—complete in each other’s arms. Where they lay one shining silver flower peeks up from the ground and blooms.
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Can you please write sub headless horseman and dom reader smut👀👀👀
Such a fun idea! Thank you for requesting~
Showing Proper Appreciation
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You are a sorcerer who has tied a headless horseman to your service. You always ensure your pets know when they do a good job, and show them all due appreciation.
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The Headless Horseman's Bride | The Headless Horseman's Savior | The Horsman's Head | Here
Tags: reader insert, dom reader, sub headless horseman, hand job, bored and ignored, slight dub-con mentioned, ectoplasm semen
WC: 1.4k
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Somewhat startled, you look up towards the door to your occularmum when three resounding knocks grab your attention.
With a huff, you close the large grimoire you’d just been studying so that no prying eyes may conceive of its secrets, and with a cloying irritation decide to deal with whoever or whatever it is that has dared to disturb you.
With a wave of your hand, the door opens and there stands a man at complete attention, waiting patiently for yours—which he would have likely waited patiently for much longer had you not so promptly addressed him. Your ire wavers. It is almost always a pleasantry to see this member of your horde of undead.
He’s got the wide shoulders of a tall strong man. He wears the uniform of a decorated soldier, though for what country or ear you do not know (nor have you ever cared). He’s got a strong body—the strongest and most corporeal of all your bound spirits.
He’s obedient and nearly always successful at whatever task you set him on. He is everything a good thrall should be, and has everything a good thrall should have.
Everything, save his head.
Your thrall is a headless horseman. A real kind of nightmare which haunts the dreams of soldiers thinking of absconding their responsibility to their nation, and any men who consider betraying people who are better with a sword than they are.
Sometimes you wonder which category your horseman falls into, but it’s not like he can answer even if you bothered to ask—and what’s better than a quiet man of mystery? Best to keep him that way.
Despite the fact you aren’t upset to see him, you’re certainly not happy being so suddenly interrupted.
“This better be worth my attention.” You snap.
You stand, shocked, as he kneels before you and presents in the palm of his hand an object wrapped in a white handkerchief which falls open to reveal a dark object. It’s almost impossible to look at, that is how dark it is, and its shape (while assumably round) is illusive to your eyes.
This is an ore of special properties, one both rare and dangerous. One which had fallen into the hands of one of your rivals and that you desired immensely.
He had gotten it.
You hadn’t even really told him to. At least, not with any straight forward order. You’d mentioned wanting this object, and your dislike of it’s owner, and he might have been near when you revealed this, but…
Heart racing, with covetous hands the object is lifted so you may view it more closely. In a titter, you go around your office and collect a box which may safely contain with powerful artifact and place it to the side so that you may place it there when you are done gloating over your new prize.
With it close, you then turn back to your thrall and brim with happiness. He hasn’t moved from his position, as he knows not to do.
“What fine work you’ve done.”
You run your hand down his shoulder, then down his still uplifted arm. Truthfully, of all the spirits in your possession, he has always been amongst your favorites. Now, he is perhaps the favorite.
And with such a brewing appreciation, you say, “Such labor deserves a fitting reward, does it not?”
He is both silent and unmoved.
“And what reward would you ask of your mistress?”
Lowering his hand he also dips his shoulders, as if embarrassed.
“Ashamed to ask? Then I know what it is you desire. I know your… tastes.” You click your tongue several times, but then curl your fingers in a seductive way. “Stand then horseman, and present yourself to me. I will ensure your satisfaction.”
Standing, his hands spring towards the teather which makes his pants a confining space for his manhood. You cackle loudly as he does, always amused by his eagerness. He only has one head now, when most men have two, and he does like it to be serviced.
Now sure of his wants, you sit, and wave him closer, using your hand to bring him to full length and girth with a few curls of your hand. This is not the first time you’ve serviced him as such, and it will likely not be the last.
He is one of your favorite toys after all. You give one knightly kiss to the tip of his cock as thanks, and use one hand to jerk him off distractedly, while your true intention lies on the other where you survey the dark orb.
His gloved hands curl as you stroke faster. You imagine he’d have a pathetic look on his face, could he suck in his lips and suppress his moans. But you enjoy that he is silent. Only his body betrays his sensitivity, and when he begins to twitch you bother to turn your attention towards him again.
“Good boy.” You purr, greatly satisfied by his work. “Do you wish to soil your Mistress’s skin and release?”
His shoulders slump as if he would have put his head down in shame, but all he can do is quake all over in anticipation for the end. He waits, impatient but faithful to your orders. He will not revel totally in the pleasure of your hand unless given permission.
“Fine.” You allow.
Another time, you might have stopped just then—if only to amuse yourself and watch how he attempt to collect himself. But once you pushed your thrall a bit too far and came to regret it. He could not take your teasing, and ended up coveting your person too much for his own good.
He certainly had his way with you then. (Not that you didn’t enjoy it. Though it was a waste of research materials, and he had to be aptly punished afterwards. It would not do to have this horseman thinking he could dominate you—even if he brought you great pleasure when he tried.)
No, this time he’s earned his reward.
You stroke his shaft a little faster, twisting your hand in just the way he likes and feeling how his thighs squeeze. Meanwhile, you appear completely unaffected by what it is you’re doing, as this warrior ghost falls apart at your touch. When you see the true signs of his end, you grab for an empty glass vial on your desk and hold it up to his length.
A dirth of his seed expulses from his person soon after, a goo of slightly glowing blue extoplasm fills up the vial in decent time, as the headless horseman studders his hips and pleasure overcomes him. You let it all drool out for a while, squeezing a few extra times to ensure he hasn’t withheld any from you. This liquid of his is a powerful potion ingredient after all—and you use nothing but the best.
Letting him catch his breath, so to speak, you release him finally, and close up the sample putting it aside for use later.
“Now tidy yourself up.” You order. “Back to work with you, the grounds don’t haunt themselves.”
He wavers a little as he gets up to his feet, and with shaking hands manages to shove his cock back in his pants. He then bows, and turns about face on his heal, ready to walk out when you stop him.
“And horseman?”
He pauses and turns back to you.
“When the moon is just past its highest tonight, I expect to see you in my chambers.”
While he bows again and turns to leave again, you can’t help but notice he does so with a little more eagerness and you chuckle darkly as the door closes behind him. It’s good to show appreciation for your pets when they do a good job, or you wouldn’t be a very good Mistress, now would you?
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A/N: Thanks again for requesting! I will also be taking a little longer to work on the last chapter of the Headless Horseman's Head, it's just not as good as I would like it to be just yet... so that will probably be coming out next week. But I want it to be worth the wait!!
As always, be well my self indulgent friends. With Love,
Bede
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Like my work and want more? If you like this, I promise you'll like my books.
You can also find all my available stories by supporting me on Patreon and have access to my entire catalog! Or if you'd rather leave a tip I'd be so grateful if you bought me a coffee. Hey, even reach out to order commissions! My asks are also open, so don't by shy!
Alpha!Zoro x Omega!Reader | Alpha!Luffy x Reader | (EVENTUAL) Iota!Nico Robin x Omega!Reader | Platonic Everyone Else x Reader
[An Omegaverse One Piece Rewrite][Updates Every Wednesday]
X...X...X
Word Count: 4.1k
| AO3 | Patreon | Wattpad | Chapters Masterlist |
X...X...X
It all started after they sailed off from Cocoyashi Village with a mighty fanfare.
Luffy was anxious for no good reason, even though Nami was running late in getting to the Merry, while Usopp was still basking in the glory of being so well received by these town folk. That stupid pervert chef Luffy let aboard was still threatening to leave if Nami didn't show up, and Owleyes swore she saw Nami headed this way a little earlier and was sure she'd be around soon.
After all, she'd loaded up the top deck of the Going Merry with tangerine trees, and made them all promise not to pluck a single fruit from a single tree under threat of death. She wouldn't leave them behind, would she? Or, at least, that's what Owleyes asked in a muddled kind of sleepy voice a little while ago.
She was hungover, as far as he could tell though it was too busy a morning for much talking. Luffy had her running around all morning as they had no chance to talk. And now it was time to go. While they were being hailed as heroes, being a hero was the furthest thing from Zoro's mind as they were about ready to hit the water.
He also wasn't going to be delayed a moment longer, whether or not Nami showed up.
And just as they began to pull away from the dock, she appeared as a blur of bright orange hair weaving and dodging through the town. Then cheers soon became jeers and well wishes curses, as she seemed to pass by every person on the island, until leaping out from the dock and hitting the deck with a flare.
And, much to the shock and horror of the townies, she then dropped all their wallets and purses to the deck in a jingle of ill-gotten gains. Luffy just laughed about it, while Usopp and (y/n) thought about trying to throw some of it back to the island, but Nami wouldn't let them.
They should have known better then to bring them! She snickered.
Well, Arlong was right about one thing. Nami was a money hungry witch--just not a totally heartless one.
In this way, they sailed towards Lodgetown with their official newly established crew of six. Zoros thoughts, through all of this, never long strayed from his new goal. Demonhood. And, so he thought very smartly, if he wanted to become something, he first had to understand what it was.
Thus, he began to think a lot on the concept of sin.
A demon was an immortal creature which was an embodiment of human desire. Attached to life, but beyond it. Masters of desire without being slaves to it. Punisher of those who broke their promises, and betrayed that which they were said to be faithful too. Upholders of their own kind of justice, be that understood by any one else. And, most importantly, tricky.
A demon could do almost anything. They could survive almost anything. And while they might have been devious, they always stuck to a code that could not be broken. They understood the laws of man, and rewrote with their will the word of the law to better suit their own interests.
These were all powers he liked the idea of having. But to rewrite the world's order, to formulate himself into a demon, he had to first understand them in his own way. This set him down a peculiar line of study, another kind of training to add to his routine of strengthening himself. Though the only studying he engaged in was observational at first.
He thought of enlightenment and the forty virtues, the six senses, and the seven deadly desires. All those laws he could think of which separated the wild and obedient aspects of the inner nature.
In his self-observation, all so-called virtues seemed to be manmade. Concepts like politeness and man's justice had no place in the wild. People might take what they want in a nice way or demand people around them follow the same rules they did for the sake of fairness, but in a crisis common conduct always fell apart quickly.
Not that he thought humanity and its tribes were aggressive or violent by nature. Or even that life was unfair.
Human behavior was simply fickle, capricious and moldable, so that people could learn to thrive (or at least survive) in a diverse array of environments and circumstances. When the normal rules no longer meant much—once they were no longer enforced by the expectations of the current authority—they would be abandoned. Instead, those persons would follow whatever their own ideas of morals were, or fit themselves to the new rule of whoever stepped in as the next authority.
In this world view, some people—called the strong—identified with their own codes of morality no matter who or what they were supposed to obey or what authority told them elsewise.
Strong or weak, ultimately all people strived to live in a way that satisfied their desires, be it within whatever rules they were subjected to or despite them. And Zoro figured that all desires when boiled down to their most base forms originated from the six senses, which could each be exalted or corrupted by negligence or over indulgence.
But this led him to questions which he had a more difficult time answering. When did hunger turn to gluttony? When did idleness turn to sloth? Assurity to pride? How many indulgences did it take to taint a sense until it was deemed to be corrupted? And then, he wondered what it meant hold onto and maintain pureness of mind...
It would take about a month to sail to Lodge Town, which was enough time for Zoro to groom this budding ideology, and incorporate it into how he viewed his daily life.
He wasn't trying to force this kind of thought on the world, or himself. He simply used it to observe, and found out along the way that he liked which kind of conclusions it led him too. He was a swordsman, and such a philosophy cut through the complexity of most all situations. Even still, especially in the early days of thinking this way, he found himself often caught off guard or unfocused, much as he tried not to be.
This was in simple ways when he was on the ship. Tempted by the woman who he so deeply desired. Frustrated by the antics of Luffy, or Nami, or Usopp, or Sanji, and then back to Luffy again. Made exhausted by his injuries faster than he'd like, he found himself making less progress than he'd like lifting weights or doing drills which often left him in a sour mood.
Lodge Town presented one such situation which he found himself unnecessarily unsettled.
The mission began simply enough. He needed to replace his swords. The ones Nami found at Arlong Park were terrible, he wouldn't have bothered to take them if he'd had any other choice. But it wasn't just that he needed replacement swords—and he did.
The day hadn't started off well. That was a consequence of the weeks previous however, just the same as he set out on the island, feeling under equipped in a city full of marines.
Since the party at Cocoyashi, he and Owleyes entered a strange place in their friendship. As he suspected would happen, (y/n) did not remember kissing him at the party. In fact, she claimed that she didn't remember much of anything after sunset and she politely refused to drink any more of Nami's family tangerine wine since then.
What he did notice, was the presence of her watchful eyes on him feeling a little more intense than before, as if she was trying to puzzle something out but couldn't quite.
They were together more often than not now though, for one reason or another. There were always sitting by each other at dinner now they had proper meals with Sanji cooking—and Zoro had to admit he was an excellent chef, though watching him swoon over the crew's women made him roll his eyes. It wasn't because he'd asked, or she'd asked, it just felt like the right thing to do.
As they sailed, with Luffy and Usopp stirring up the kind of trouble only fools like them could while failing at fishing, or manning the sails, or trying out one of Usopp's new gadgets, he and the omega would share looks.
Whenever anything happened, his first instinct was to look at Owleyes. What face was she making? What was she thinking? Was she looking at him too?
And when they would look at each other with that are you seeing this? kind of stare across the deck she would giggle and cover her mouth with the tips of her fingers, looking away just a moment later. She was a shy thing, even though he was the only one seeing her. He didn't want her to be shy—not with him anyway.
It was a strange tension, pushing and pulling. Come closer, her eyes said, but not too close said her shrinking body language.
Drinking didn't even distract him from this problem, because when he was drunk the feelings just got stronger. And instead of keeping a careful distance between himself and the object of his burning affection, drunkenly he'd sit beside her and chat—more easily than he ever could sober.
And when she'd gasp or laugh at something ridiculous, he said, or grab his arm in disbelief as he relayed a story from his hunting days, his mind would wander to all kinds of filthy places. Admittedly, he wanted more. but resigned himself from asking for it. He knew if he was patient, she would come to him.
She'd fallen asleep on his shoulder the other day, on a lazy afternoon of smooth water and steady breeze. She'd been writing, the sound of her quill against the paper a pleasant rhythmic sound. It was soothing in a simple, satisfying way after a long work out to be in quiet company. He was only resting his eyes really, listening to her writing and the ocean, when the sound stopped.
He peaked on eye open to see his Owleyes looking totally lax, her shoulders low and her breath deep and even. Her weight fell towards him slowly, until her soft cheek and light head rested gently on his arm and he'd stayed perfectly still, sending a death glare towards Sanji when'd he'd come around with tea being too noisy.
When she'd woken up, letting out a still sleepy yawn that crinkled up her face, he still remembered that smile she sent his way. He'd wanted nothing more than to just lean over and press that gentle curl of her lips against his, just so that some little part of her might become a part of him—but he'd stopped himself.
Sorry she'd said, and he'd waved that off with a mutter that he didn't mind.
Touches came his way a little easier now. A hand brushing his when they handed off ropes, her palm on his back when she passed behind him. Casual touches, but each one was remembered.
That was why, when they disembarked to explore the bustling city of Lodge Town, the biggest most established city they'd yet to visit, he'd expected (y/n) to tag along with him. It was automatic. She divvied out the money they had saved up for getting supplies—of which Zoro got little of.
What portion had been his was mostly paid to the doctor in Cocoyashi village, leaving him basically penniless and asking Nami for a loan, which she was all too happy to give him—with outrageous interest of course.
But he needed swords, good replacements too if he could manage to find them for a steal, so he took her blood money. With a wallet full, he looked over at her, just expecting her to walk his way. Instead, she was standing by Sanji, all ready to head out and get the shipped stocked.
Sanji would be buying the food, and she would go around looking for everything else the ship needed, like cleaning supplies, basic medicine, and materials for keeping up the ship, along with anything else she wrote down on her clipboard. It was an important thing to do, more than just tagging along with him.
The alpha in him howled for her, begged for her, would rip itself apart for her. And in his silent, unseen yearning, he accepted his status as secondary in this moment all while trying to ignore that it stung his pride.
So, he walked the paved streets of Lodge Town alone, trying to find his way to a blacksmith, an antique shop, or a weapons dealer that was selling within his budget. The city was full, and well-guarded since this island was used as Marine Headquarters in the East Blue, so he—and every other undercover pirate that must have been around—tried their best to keep a low profile.
At least the smart ones did.
The dumber ones made a big fuss, drawing the attention of the authorities and with it their so-called justice. What he didn't expect, however, was who showed up to distribute that wrath. A woman wielding a fine looking blade came running down the street after two burly idiots who'd made too big of a scene stealing on an island clearly teeming with marines.
She had black hair, cut in a way that instantly familiar. Those eyes, black almost purple, the way she held her sword, her footwork... It was like catching sight of a ghost on the street.
Who knew there was a marine in the world that looked so much like a grown up Kunia? Who liked swords, and fought in the same way? Spoke in the same tones?
They ran into each other. She pegged him as a swordman of some talent, and he pegged her as someone who probably knew where to get a new weapon around here. He was half-fixated by her as she led him down a road towards an antique shop known for selling the kind of swords he was looking for.
He leaned in, too curious for his own good and he took just one sniff. Just one.
He had to know if she smelled like Kunia too.
Even after all these years he remembered what Kunia was like. Her sword still held her spirit, she never really left him.
But she didn't. It took less than half a sniff to know the truth. Though she looked a spitting image like his long dead friend, this stranger was an omega. Kunia was a beta, and she always smelled lightly of leather. This woman smelled of vegetables, like a cut open potato, and a stench of tobacco followed her everywhere.
Even understanding this, it'd taken nearly the entire afternoon for him to shake off the shock. Every time he looked at her, he was put at ill ease.
She was a test, she had to be. And when he slowed down, It was also clear that Tashigi (for that was not-Kunia's real name) was much too unskilled to be Kunia. Even a Kunia that lost her memory and fell into some kind of make-you-omega serum wouldn't fight with this half-gait, it just would've been impossible.
That confidence that allowed Kunia to face off grown men and send them toppling just didn't exist in this omega. She might have looked and moved just like her, but she lacked the same undefeatable spirit Kunia inspired everyone with—not to mention the glasses.
Kunia never wore glasses!
This not-Kunia lady was helpful though, taking him to a weapons dealer who he'd managed to get two swords from for free. He handed over cursed blades no one else wanted, which were now happily Zoro's. No blade was cursed in his eyes, some people were just too weak to wield a weapon that expected more, and Zoro was not put off by the idea of wielding a headstrong blade.
And with his arsenal refreshed he finally felt secure. A three-bladed technician needed three blades, after all.
Though possessing them was when his time with the not-Kunia ghost Tashigi ended. As she realized that he was a pirate, a bounty hunter, a ruffian, she then demanded that they duel for the rights to the blade he'd sworn to be the best on. That sword that had once been Kunia's buzzed in his hand—and without even fighting her, Zoro knew that this woman would never best him. The blade seemed to refuse it for him.
She did not care. And in a moment, she was on her knees, having failed to even lay a scratch on him, let alone win.
And as they parted ways, her defeated and he on the run to get back to the Merry, he realized that if he wanted to be a demon, he certainly couldn't let ghosts bother him. He needed more training, always more training. Physical training of course, but just as importantly, more mental training.
Because if he couldn't keep a cool head, it wouldn't matter how much he refined his three-sword style. An uncertain sword was a dull blade before it was ever swung.
By that time, Luffy had already made a ruckus somewhere on the other side of town, which Zoro found out when he accidently ran into Sanji and (y/n) on the street. The sky was getting dark, it was obvious even to him a storm was coming in.
The pair of them had just run into Nami, and the omega of the crew were headed to the ship, quickly telling them to get Luffy and head to the Merry as fast as possible too. Nami was sure this storm was going to be a big one and if they didn't leave soon, they'd be trapped on the island. With all the attention Luffy tended to garb, sticking around for even an hour longer would just lead to disaster.
They needed to get going fast.
Understood, Sanji and Zoro ran off to the center of town, where the biggest crowd had gathered. Where there was noise, there was Luffy, and this correlation was proven right once more.
Luffy was at the center of the crowd, surrounded by the resurrected Buggy crew and placed up on the execution block in the center of town. The very one that the Pirate King Luffy so aspired to be had been executed on twenty-four years previously. Buggy was looking smug with himself, making a show out of humiliating the young alpha. It was amazing the Marines hadn't showed up to stop this yet as he braggadociosly mapped out the absoluteness of this situation.
Buggy was going to execute Luffy, and there was no one in the world that could stop him from getting revenge for the humiliation he and his crew had suffered.
He explained his feeling of superiority, leaning on the shaft of a headsmen's axe. Only when done with his speech, he lifted the great long blade to ready himself for the blow he obviously anticipated. Just as Buggy was about to swing the axe down on Luffy neck, he asked for Luffy's last words.
"This is your FLASHY EXECUTION!" He announced, "Make the most of this crowd, let's put on a show. Tell me! What are your last words?!" Buggy demanded, then laughed, "Well, it's not like anyone cares what you have to say anyway. Just wish the world good bye and better luck next time, kid."
Luffy, who'd been momentarily uncharacteristically silent, mulled on those words. Buggy shrugged, drew back, ready to strike. And Zoro, Sanji, and the whole crowd were stunned by what Luffy finally hollered.
"I AM THE MAN..." He began, his voice deafening over the crowd who went totally silent, "WHO WILL BECOME PIRATE KING!" Luffy declared, and with death hovering just over his neck, Luffy smiled, letting out his signature snicker. But then he quickly added, "Zoro, Sanji! Come on, help me out here, he's really going to kill me!"
That broke the spell of shock which had locked the other alphas in place. They darted to motion, a plan forming together as quickly as they could rise above the crowed and break through the throng. They got up on shop stalls and jumped over the gathered folks.
"We have to take the podium down!" Zoro decided. "It's our best bet!"
"I know!" Sanji yelled back.
What they didn't know was if they could actually make it in time.
Buggy looked aghast, then disgusted, faltering in his first attempt to behead Luffy. He yelled for his crew to stop the Straw Hats from approaching and readied his blade again. But he didn't look worried now, he laughed a wild cackle which matched with the next peel of thunder.
"Watch! Watch the last moments of your captain! This pitiful state is the last you'll ever see of him!"
The shared sense of utter inability—the knowing they could each help but kept at bay by distance and a horde of fools trying to stop them—was sobering. Both Zoro and Sanji in the same moment realizing they would not be able to kick or cut down the podium in time. Luffy looked over the courtyard and instead of shaking with fear, he smiled that shit eating idiot smile. The kind of smile he'd had when he admitted to eating all their food, not an ounce of guilt or shame on him.
"Well, sorry." He snickered. "But it looks like I'm dead!"
Sanji yelled something along the lines of don't say that you idiot! But Zoro felt trapped between impressed by his nonchalance and betrayed. How could he look death in the eyes and smile like that?
But before Buggy could lay down the blade and chop Luffy's head of, a strike of lightning hit the podium. It was spectacular timing, the storm picking up as Luffy shrugged off the shattered pillory. Rain shushed from the sky and Buggy and his crew twitched around from the nearness of the lightning strike. But Luffy stood over them, totally unaffected by the arching electricity. He dusted off his shorts with a wide grin.
"Wow!" He laughed again, "That was a close one!"
Luffy's aloofness broke the spell of amazement off the crowd and off Sanji, who demanded they get going. He leading the way. The marines were coming too, surrounding the plaza as the wind began whistling through the streets like a whip. The Marines chased them now, more concerned about the straw hats being apprehended as the Buggy's Circus was still twitching on the ground.
A trail of smoke, scenting even over the rain of an irate alpha, followed them for a while. A navy commander had come to take down Luffy, who seemed to recognize him from somewhere, and Zoro recognized on that scent. Tabacco. I looked like this guy was not-Kunia's boss, if he had to guess.
Zoro would have rolled his eyes if he had the time. Of course, Luffy managed to piss off the commander of the whole town. But Luffy just stuck his tongue out to the blob as they ran. But when they turned a corner, the smoke ceased to follow them, and Zoro's attention focused totally on what was a head of them.
The Merry was already bobbing at sea. Nami, (y/n), and Usopp attempting to man the ship on their own, keeping it toward the dock but on open water in case they needed to quickly flea and circle back later. Luffy in his post NDE jubilation wraps one of his long rubbery arms around Sanji and Zoro, smacking them together, and slinging his other arms forward to wrap around the mast. They are all flung aboard the Merry. Not even a moment later Nami was yelling for them to get into position manning the sails, though Sanji aye aye's her in a disoriented voice.
And so, they rode out from Lodge Town onto the stormy sea, knowing it would take another week for them to hit their turn onto Reverse Mountain. Though it seemed like a rough exit from the notorious town, the storm shielded them from immediately being followed by Marines or Pirates.
That much, at least, was a relief. They weren't followed onto the sea with a rain of cannon fire to add to the downpour. Though that didn't mean the next leg of the journey was going to be easy...
X...X...X
a/n: ((Oh no, she doesn't remember!! Poor Zoro...))
I'm back, hope you all had a pleasant last week and happy Leo season for all us summer babies!! Also, the Nintendo direct for Fire Emblem Fortunes Weave was yesterday and I'm so excited~ It looks awesome!! I'm a huge Fire Emblem fan, and I have a few stories in my back log, maybe I should post them?
With love, Bede
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[How pretty the Anemone and the Rose are, side by side.]
X...X...X
The first time Porsha played Crystal Eclipse, she hadn’t quite understood the purpose of Anemone’s character.
She was mean, and seemed to interrupt the tutorial more than help. Her purpose didn’t really become clear until much later, when the game truly “started” towards the second act. What appeared to be a nice, playful magical world held a dark vicious underbelly. Sort of like Anemone, and living in her shoes made her realize how important she was to setting the tone of this story.
Anemone should have been perfect. On the outside she was everything a person could ask to be. Smart, beautiful, graceful, and influential. None of those things on their own were bad. But on the inside, she was mean and twisted.
The love of the alpha’s that would be arriving for the ceremony was like that too. They were beyond attractive, and considered to be anything a person in this world could want from a lover. In the real world, they were a pure fantasy. Their love was all encompassing, too, but at what cost?
Dignity? Of rationality? To the health of the body and the safety of the mind? Well, not her mind. The honor of being loved by them would still go to Rose at the end of this.
While Porsha had never seen them, Anemone must have had incredible stats. Any worry she had about her being weak flew right out the window while she prepared to leave Castle Kuna. Anemone had a great body and very good magic pool. Both of which Porsha was taking advantage of, hopefully to return she and herself back to the proper bodies.
While Porsha was sailing through the practices, Rose was struggling. She was a quick learner, but her stamina was not great. She needed more training if she was going to be gaining the attention of her suitors. The last thing this world needed was a null start run.
Though the more she saw of Rose, the more Porsha had to wonder how a girl like that could have actually survived the kinds of ordeals the game put her through. Both literally in the main plot, and the blunt attention of the alphas she was forced to mate. The girl hardly had a back bone, she was so sweet and submissive. She practically melted at the slightest praise, and hopped to obey any order given to her by anyone.
That was kind of her role in the game though, wasn’t it? Her choices weren’t her choices. She was just the avatar of a greater, unseen hand. Maybe without the player secretly leading, she was something limp and unfulfilled.
Omegas, as a whole, were odd creatures.
They were almost universally fussy, and needy. Quick to emotional outbursts and they seemed to be incredibly clingy group of people. They liked physical touch too; it was easy to tell who was close to who as they were often all over each other. Holding hands, brushing hair, leaning on one another, even kissing.
And that was how she’d gotten into this situation. Because, as hard as Porsha worked to make it so, things were not going as they should...
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Full Chapter Length: 5.1k
Book Length: 17 Chapters (64k Words)
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To the person who requested the third part to the Headless Horseman story where our bodiless lady is reunited with the rest of her person, I have seen your request!
I was out of town most of last week and am getting back into the grove of things this week, so I'll be getting that story out when I've got some time to work on it~ Sorry for the wait.
Anywho, that's all my self indulgent friends! With Love,
[The Time When Porsha Hawkins Settles into the Castle]
X...X...X
The lavishness of the castle and Anemone’s favorite collection of pale colors surrounded. Drapery, candles, chandeliers, little shining bobbles and vats of all sorts of creams she had no idea what the purpose of them were on crystal desks that line a wall to the right of the door. Large specimens of various amethyst crystals that would have made Porsha salivate to look at in a store or online, sit in the window and on the desk.
And there it is, just to the right. The bed spread. All the omegas must have a set of sheets like this one, because these look exactly like Rose’s did in game, though they were pearly white rather than pink.
Lush, plush, silky looking and so deliciously feminine. The sight of it almost makes tears spill forth. Its perfection would draw anyone in, and she steps up to reverently, like a moth to the sight of a strong flame. Even if touching it would kill, she must run a hand over the fabric, just to know how blissful it is.
Rose doesn’t even get a bed this nice once she’s claimed!
This bed? This bed is perfection.
The opulence of this place was almost blinding. How could any institution be this rich? Were omegas that important?
Hopefully, the answer to that was not really, and the niceties of this place were mostly for vanity. Because escape was on the mind, and nothing here (nice as this bed was) would stop her from getting out. Though, that wouldn’t stop her from enjoying the bed, while she was here.
Though it was a little fun to imagine (and desperately hope) that the sheets were so magically slippery, she could just dream slip back into real life. Though with how real and solid everything felt, that seemed unlikely. Maybe there was some way she could learn…
All this was thought in an anxious whirlwind as she made way to the Grand Circle Library. It was immensely difficult to walk around the palace in real life, while trying not to appear disoriented, but thankfully the entrance to the library was a little more obvious than the more normal bedroom doors. It was an extra tall, extra wide double door entrance. Guards stand on either side of the doors, and open them as she approaches.
She enters, and the doors close behind her. In here, there appear to be no extra eyes, and no weapons allowed, as it’s only other omegas and maybe a servant or two wandering around the circular, three-story library.
Everyone already studying shot up when the door closed, and exchanged strange strained looks to each other as she stepped forward. They were named NPC’s though not very important to the story. A slim white-haired young woman, a red-headed man, another male omega with dark eyes that could not mute his fear.
They must have seen Anemone in the library before. A character didn’t just become well read by being mean and sitting in their room all day—she had to actually study from time-to-time. But they all looked at her like they were afraid the ground she stood on might catch fire. What was she? A devil in church?
That’s all it takes. The skittering sound of everyone else leaving with muffled haste quickly followed. Lily wasn’t to be left behind. Gathering up her things she raced out of the hall like if she lingered even a moment later, she’d be cursed to a sudden undeath.
It’s a bit stupefying. What exactly had Anemone done to these people?
The heat felt from hearing those words about Rose fades as quickly as it came on, leaving Porsha a bit embarrassed and hot under the collar. Thankfully everyone was well gone, or she’d have totally lost command of whatever that outburst was.
In part, she had to be grateful for Anemone and her past cruelties. There was no way she’d ever be able to command this sort of instinctual dread in people alone. She’d use what remained of her influence like a shield for the rest of the time she was here, since acting like her wasn’t really going well.
Though if she wanted to keep that shield, she was going to have to talk less.
Maybe she needed to start throwing more nasty looks. Or pick up the habit of looking down her nose everywhere she went… no, she’d never remember to keep it up…
Keeping to herself would be the way to go. Anemone was probably doing that anyway if she didn’t have any friends, so that would make her appear more in character. Avoiding everyone would also help her keep the research secret, and she’d have to scout out someplace in the castle to practice spells.
In Porsha’s mind, the countdown timer had already begun. Only a handful of weeks, better counted as days, remained until the alphas arrived. That would be a disaster for Anemone, one that Porsha couldn’t afford to get caught up in.
With that goal in mind, she set to work.
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Full Chapter WC: 8k
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Hybrid-Dog!Staker!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Hybrid-Moth!Fem!Reader
X...X...X
18+
It didn't start off as stalking. But he didn’t stop it from happening.
[An alternate steamy ending of what could have happened, post “I want to believe you” line in CH. 2, instead of them just making up.]
X...X...X
Tags: M/F, explicit PiV, dub-con, Call of Duty, Simon “Ghost” Riley/Reader, omegaverse, Alpha!Ghost, Omega!Reader, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, PWP, bond marks, heats, shifters/hybrids, no use of y/n, Yandere, Soft!yandere,
Word Count: 1k+
--AO3 Link--
X...X...X
CH. 1 | CH. 2 | CH. 2.5
She pulls back and stares at him for a long moment. It’s his hands that are moving while she looks at him with this thoughtful stare. Her mind feels mysterious to him as he graces a touch over her swollen stomach, round from his kids.
“Why’re you looking at me like that?” He grumbles.
“Well… I…” She sighs, “I just want to be yours, Simon, but you make it hard to choose you sometimes.”
“There’s no choice. You already picked me, a bit late to be thinking else wise.”
“I don’t mean like that.” She rolls her eyes.
“Doll, do you need me to remind you who this pussy belongs to?” He laughs. “Big as you are, thought you wouldn’t need my cock to do that. You were running me ragged before you started showing woman, you know that.”
“Simon!”
“I’m not the one getting fussy because I haven’t been fucked in what? 2 months?”
Her response is muffled by a pleased hum as his fingers strum against her wet cut.
“You are getting horny on me again. I was waiting for it.”
“I’m not just horny, Simon, I was scared!”
“Scared because you forgot who you let bite you. Not my fault, is it.” He hums.
“You took my bite too.” She whines.
“I did. And I’d take another.”
He feels her hips buck when he says that and he smirks. “Dolly, do you think about double bonding that much? It makes my girl wet thinking about her mark all over me, messing up my scars? And to think you were just talking about running away from me.” Then he adds hotly in. His cock is hard in his pants, straining to rub against her thigh.
She swallows thickly. “Simon, the doctor said—”
“The doctor said to keep you off your back, and not go to hard. Not that you had to be chaste for a year.” She blushes, and he adds, “I could do it, but I think you’d pop a gasket, love.”
“Don’t tease me.”
“Present yourself then.” He demands, voice just threatening to tip over into command. “Now.”
She doesn’t hesitate, rolling over with a little effort onto all fours.
“There she is. My omega.” He compliments and she shiver, making her ass shake a little bit. “Love you like this.” He admits.
He grabs the meatiest of her thigh and pull her in a close as two people can be. She lets her head fall back into her little nest, just barely big enough for the two of them, tight and comfortable, though not as tight as her cunt, it still made him feel re-placed into position, where he was supposed to be.
Desperate little whimpers were far more becoming when they were his whole world instead of distant cries, and while his name becomes the only remaining sense in her vocabulary.
“Si…” She whines, and he was already busy with undoing his pants.
He chuckles, “I’m coming lady, hold on.”
She practically gasps for breath when he enters her, like she hadn’t been able to breath in all the time they hadn’t been intimate. What a silly woman he had—more needy than she would ever admit with her upper mouth. Though now he’ll set to making it droll as much as her lower one.
Reaching behind, she grabs his forearms as she slowly rocks into her now, hissing and moaning and begging for more. Just a little faster, she pleads. Just a little deeper. Please, alpha, she begs and begs until he’s taking her a little harder than he’s initially mean to. He almost feels like he’s branding her, with how precise and sudden his thrusts are, as she falls apart on him, trembling and squeezing, until she’s a puddle of pleasure in their nest.
Oh yes, she was never going to leave him, and he’ll make sure of it. As she can hardly hold onto a stray thought beneath him, he leans over her back, feeling all the control he’d thought he’d lost just a half hour pervious, returning to him. And with his chest against her back, and his mouth at her ear, he just asks.
“Do you feel good omega?” Of course, he knows, but it she squeezes a little tighter and moans. But she doesn’t answer with words, so he nips the exposed shoulder below him. “Answer me, love.”
“Puppy,” she barely whimpers, “Don’t be mean, my heart can’t take much more today.”
“I want you to bite me again.” He demands through the sound of their panting breaths.
“What are you asking right now?” She ask back, sounding so tired.
“You heard me.” He adds.
“You’re a troublesome alpha, you know that.” She murmurs back. “Trouble.”
“And I’m all yours.”
“You really don’t want more than… just us?”
“No.”
And he means it.
She twists, looks him in the eye. She put a hand on his stubbled cheek and really really stared into his eyes until he was almost unnerved. He feels a swell of some unrecognizable emotion. Then she springs forward, making Ghost startle a little bit, and is biting his shoulder, then his arm, and his arm again, leaving his head in a rush and his skin literally buzzing.
He’s there in a daze for a moment when her mouth finally releases him and her breath stirs against the fresh wounds which sting slightly. The blood rushes in his ears, and he thinks for a moment, maybe, his mate is just as possessive as him. Maybe she does get it. Maybe in some little way, they were cut from the same cloth.
Not forgetting her state, he slowly rolls her over, not caring when she whines which is cock slips out from between her legs, and he drags her into an intense kiss. One that soon trails down her neck, and down her shoulder where he sinks his teeth, than down his shoulder, where they’d now have matching marks, and then on her arm, and writs, and several more on either thigh, until every urge he’s had to take and take and take of her skin is finally fulfilled.
She moans all the while, distracted and made so hot she almost fevers, and he’ll finish fucking her soon, but in the moment? In the moment all he can do is marvel.
What a dream come true his life is.
X...X...X
I was re-reading through this alternate ending recently and I just realized it was actually really hot, so I thought, why not post it?
Anyway, hope you enjoyed. With Love,
Bede
X...X...X
Like my work and want more? If you like this, I promise you'll like my books.
You can also find all my available stories by supporting me on Patreon and have access to my entire catalog! Or if you'd rather leave a tip I'd be so grateful if you bought me a coffee. Hey, even reach out to order commissions! My asks are also open, so don't by shy!
Alpha!Zoro x Omega!Reader | Alpha!Luffy x Reader | (EVENTUAL) Iota!Nico Robin x Omega!Reader | Platonic Everyone Else x Reader
[An Omegaverse One Piece Rewrite][Updates Every Wednesday]
X...X...X
Word Count: 5k
| AO3 | Patreon | Wattpad | Chapters Masterlist |
X...X...X
It's a tougher, longer fight than Zoro imagined--going up against the Arlong Pirates primary three members that is.
The Octopus man with spinning blades, some smelty-faced kicker, and finally Arlong himself. They each put up an actual fight, unlike their compatriots who had all be easily beaten by just Zoro alone, and taken care of even quicker with Luffy's (brief) assistance, and Sanji.
The fights were coming to a head and Zoro was injured far more than he wanted to yet admit, or had admitted. If he'd let Owleyes anywhere near his wounds, he might have had to face just how bad of a state he was in—and at the time that was the last thing he needed to do. Then again, any attempt at putting him back together might have been helpful at this point.
Zoro always rose above his circumstance. The worse the circumstances the taller he could stand, the further he could push himself, the better he became. Every step forward in his life was one he took over a mountain of trouble.
But he may have gotten a little over his head this time.
He was only just holding on to the edge of consciousness when Nami and (y/n) arrived at Arlong Park. The grunt fishmen where easy to fight off like the small fry's in any pirate crew, but the lieutenants were another issue all together, not to mention the ferocity of Arlong which was only kept at bay because his right- and left-hand men promised to take he and Sanji out themselves.
These two, a very tall and slim fish man and the very same octopus that had given Zoro a ride earlier, were strong and skilled. And though he'd thought Arlong's ramblings earlier were just that, it was clear that the pair of them were far stronger than normal humans.
The octopus Hachi, who Zoro remembered the name of only because of his outrageous six sword style, faced against Zoro with a flourish and a grudge. His style was both wild and fluid, and an unexpected fight. However, the beratement of six swords, as fast and skilled as the octopus was at wielding them, was nothing compared to the skill of that man, who had rendered Zoro to the state he was in.
If he'd been healthy, this fight would not have been so hard. But as it was, the fishmen had nearly beaten him. By grit alone, he managed to take down Hachi, avoiding and striking through the flow of his weaving six sword windmill which would have made a human smoothie out of a lesser swordman.
It was Hachi left with a strike across his chest and crumpling to his knees in the end.
And somehow, even if Zoro hadn't the attention to spare for keeping an eye on Sanji's fight, the chef had done the same, finding victory of over the Tuna while in his home terf under the water. The only thing that Zoro managed to notice, was that Sanji appeared to only fight with kicks rather than his hands, which seemed strange.
In the end, though both of them were injured and exhausted, they won.
As Sanji pushed himself up from the water and rejoined the fight on the deck sopping wet and clearly badly beaten up, Sanji earned Zoro's respect. He stood there, ready to hold the line, despite everything.
It was maybe only at the edge of death that he could admit the pervert could at least fight. And he'd fought hard, maybe having him on the crew wouldn't be so bad.
"I have to go back under!" Sanji quickly told him though, taking off his shoes to head back into the water.
Though Zoro found this baffling, he had to think it was for good reason. If something important was going on down there, it wasn't like he could go check on it. Going in that water for too long would surely cause him to bleed to death, and he wasn't looking to end his life in such a pitiful manner.
So Zoro stood, the last man standing really, as Arlong sat frozen in shock at the state of his companions. The sight left Zoro uneasy, only because he was unsure of when the fishman would begin his counter attack. Meanwhile, down below Sanji must have been quick to check on the fool that was the alpha Monkey D. Luffy who was trapped under the water instead of fighting.
"Luffy's fine!" Sanji shouted as he crawled out of the water quicker than Zoro'd expected. "But—!"
But what? Zoro didn't get the chance to ask that, as finally Arlong rose from his throne.
He'd been momentarily stunned that two mere humans had taken down all his crew, but now took on Sanji and Zoro as enemies himself. They tried to rise up the energy to fight, but it had been a long painful day, so it was to be a useless effort.
Still, they stood and faced him, though they wavered on their feet.
Arlong was on a different level, unlike any of the rest of them in strength or brutality, and he sent Zoro and Sanji back to their knees with just one move.
He didn't even need to touch them. He didn't throw a punch or a kick. He simply flicked. And the water that flew out from his fingertips was devastating. Where it hit it might as well have been a bullet, and when those hit his already wounded chest, Zoro was nearly incapacitated.
Just when he'd sworn to never lose again...
This lose seemed unavoidable. How was he supposed to properly fight like this? Usopp was right, he must have had a death wish.
Those water droplets were flicked at the speed of gun fire, and being hit by one did feel like being shot, though the wounds weren't as deep. Feverish and in a blinding amount of pain, he can just understand that Arlong's attention has been distracted from stomping he and Sanji into human paste by a voice, which was allowing him this time to take a breath.
He can hardly think, really, not enough to make out the words in the deep rumbling sounds of the giant shark-man. Nami speaks too, he can hear the higher pitch of her voice and the crowd of villagers makes a rustle of noise behind her somewhere. But only one sound really cuts through the fog of his rushing blood and pain.
"Ah!" She gasps, and there's only one she that matters in his mind suddenly, "What wounds! Who did this to you?"
And yeah, he must look like a mess. Laid out flat on his back, the wound he'd received from the Hawkeyed monster freshly split apart and airing out his insides. It might have been because he was nearly dead, but the sound of her voice is like a tonic, cold and smooth like the feeling of her hands on him.
He craves her scent. Her touch. Her anything.
If I lives through this, he thinks, at least she'll stitch me up afterwards...
He'd been certain just a moment ago that he'd reached the edge—he'd done too much. Whatever he'd accomplished in this fight was already beyond the normal limits, beyond the limits of even abnormal stamina. Only a monster could still be alive with these injuries, only a monster could have fought today at all.
But it's quickly become apparent to Zoro that he will need to become more than a normal swordsman. More than an abnormal one. More even, than a monster. The force of his will to live needed to transcend any kind of mortal body—what he needed to become was...
A demon.
This conclusion comes too him just as a great spout of water and a gurgling voice that can only belong to one man—one idiot whose stupidity had landed them in a situation as dire as it was, but whose revival made a certain kind of relief rush through them all. Warrior and on looker alike could feel that Luffy would be finishing this soon.
"It worked! Now we just have to free his legs!" Sanji said.
"Oh, so that's how it was..." Zoro comments, getting ready to rise from the dead once more. "Let me guess, you need more time?"
And all Sanji can do is confirm.
"I'll give you more time." Zoro swears and while it seems impossible, he will stand as the wall for the last few seconds he's needed. And that—that will have to count as his win today. It's more than most can do.
Determination was all that made him stand, and it was all he needed. With a swagger of a man about to bleed to death, he got to his feet. To curly brows, he promised only thirty seconds for whatever he needed to do to free their captain, and he'd have to make them count.
And with no further ado Sanji jumps into the ocean and Zoro faced off against the Sharkman Arlong for a few daring moments, and that was all Luffy needed before he arrived to the battle in a flashy unnecessary fashion...
...
Zoro did not end up getting his treatment from Owleyes.
Instead, he was taken in by the town doctor who was so horrified with his wounds that he lectured the swordsman through every stitch, even as he faded in and out of consciousness. The doctor (an old man with the temperament of a worried sailor) meant well, rattling off about limits and valuing his health amongst other things doctors were supposed to say.
Zoro laid there, and he felt every stitch. No one ever seemed to waste pain meds on him, and to be fair he couldn't much feel his body anyway. The pain of treatment was no less or more intense than the wounds themselves.
He ended up thinking too much about the fight. Mostly imagining how he'd make that fucking moron he called a captain pay for how he'd decided to "tag Zoro out" so to speak. Tag him out. Every time he thought about it again it pissed him off.
Free from the water, Luffy hadn't leapt over the wall, or run to face Arlong like a normal person. No. Of fucking course not.
Instead he'd tagged Zoro out of his fight by using his corpse like a slingshot tether, throwing Zoro over the park wall and nearly into the ocean while Luffy took his place in the courtyard against the shark man.
Without that little stunt, maybe Zoro wouldn't have been quite so numb, or hurt in the one or two extra ways slamming into the beach surely must have inflicted on him. Without it though, he might not have brewed in that anger, letting it keep him alive and aware enough to hear the sounds of fighting on the other side of the white walls of Arlong Park.
There were huge explosions, and the loudest sounds of destruction came crashing down over and over. Each time the noises growing louder and more disastrous. To Zoro, it almost sounded like Luffy was taking down all of Arlong Park and not just the shark-man it was named after.
He hoped he would. He hoped it would be all rubble by the time he looked over the gate again. Zoro would not be disappointed.
When the noises died down, turning from sounds of a fierce fight to cheering, Zoro knew Luffy'd won and had to abandon the fantasies of killing him this time. It was hard to stay mad at someone who got a job no one else could do done. Even if he was an annoying shit so often. After the cheering became background, like the townsfolk had walked away, Zoro was left in quiet with the ocean and a distant wondering if anyone would find him over here.
Quiet feet touch ground, announced by the rolling of a few pebbles, and Zoro peels one eye half open to see who's come by. He doesn't need to, but nonetheless he watches the watching one as she kneels down beside him. Taking a shaking, slow, breath in, the wind blessingly blows his way and there it is. That softly ceremonial, sweet scent he wanted to cling to his skin.
"Oh, Mr. Roronoa, how did this happen to you?" A familiar voice asks softly, "This doesn't look like a fresh wound, and you stitched yourself horribly."
That was mostly Johnny's fault, he thought to himself. But he really didn't have the strength to speak. She comes around slowly, not fully in view until she's just a step away since his vision is difficult to focus. But when she bends down and puts her hand on his forehead he sighs, a noise covered up by her shocked gasp.
"And you have such a terrible fever..." She mutters.
He wished he could enjoy it more when her hands moved, and her fingers just scratched his scalp, combing through his hair to slip his bandana off, which she untied once it was in her hands and then affixed around his left arm where it usually was.
It was as if to say the fight is over now.
"Ms. Nami and the villagers will come get us soon." Owleyes eventually said, soothing the back of her hand on his forehead.
He just grunted, as much as an affirmative as he could offer.
"Do you want to know what happened?" She asked, "It'll pass the time."
No not really, he thought, but a rumbling "... okay." is what he actually said.
(Y/n) sat down on her knees and looked away from him, off to the sky. He didn't like that, even though he knew he must look horrible, he wanted to feel her stare on him and if he was really really bold, her hand would have just moved into his. All her touching would be on him, if he could command it. But he remains in numb silence.
"Well, after you flew off, Arlong demonstrated the strength of his jaws and started ranting about the superiority of fishmen. Then Captain picked up two swords on the ground and started failing them around like a child would. Arlong told him he looked like a fool, and split the blades in half with his saw nose but then Captain just punched him right in the jaw so hard his teeth shattered and threw the hilts away and yelled Of course I don't know how to use swords, dumbass!" Owleyes tried to mimic Luffy's voice, and laughed.
Zoro felt just a little amused. This was the first time he'd heard her use a curse word.
"And then he said I don't know a thing about navigation. I can't cook! I can't lie either! And I'm terrible at keeping track of stuff! I'm confident that I wouldn't be able to survive if other people weren't there to help me!"
At least he knows he's useless without us... Zoro thought dimly.
But she looked up at the passing clouds and said with a little smile and said, "Captain Luffy is truly someone remarkable... "
He blinks at her a few times, unsure of what she means by that and yet understanding completely. She doesn't linger in the moment, explaining how the fight continued before he's closing his eyes. He's listening to her voice until it becomes nothing more than a pleasant hum in the background, something that let his mind drift off into a sense of distant contentment.
In his haze, he wasn't really listening. Instead considered what exactly he wanted his future to look like as he reached for the power to push beyond what was human...
That is until a very specific combination of words caught his attention.
"Is that... a marine ship coming closer?"
Two eyes open, searching the horizon for a moment until they pointed towards the dock and noticed the ship approaching there, raising sail and looking about to land.
Yes, it did in fact appear to be a marine ship. And it looked like the commander of said vessel was already ashore, gathering up a platoon to raid the ruins of Arlong Park with.
Against all odds, Zoro sat up then, slowly at first before gaining more confidence. Having closed his eyes for a while, he was already feeling better. Or at least well enough to move again. He could deal with the griding of the two pieces of his chest barely holding together for a little while longer yet.
"Let's go then." He said simply, waving his hand for Owleyes to follow, even if in the end she was the one grabbing his arm and making sure he didn't wander off the wrong way. But he couldn't find it in him to complain.
And though he dealt with the marines despite his condition, the islanders watching the mouse-like commander get kicked off their land with the cheering ceremony of kings, Owleyes helped him into the doctor's hands then disappeared.
That annoyed him, he'd admit that much, though more than he'd ever voice.
Maybe that was why, despite the old doctor down right demanding he take bed rest for at least two months and then retire from the sword and all training for at least a year to ensure all his wounds properly healed, Zoro was already up and waking around after a brisk nap post-care. And no one could convince him to properly lay down for a while longer.
All efforts brushed off with a gruff I'm fine.
Though admittedly he didn't do much more than sit and nap where ever it was he went. He just never liked doctors, hated cot beds, and would much rather sleep outside whether there was a festival going on or not.
Though, because there was an ongoing party, being out there meant he was being hailed as some kind of hero. Ha, that made him almost laugh. He just came here to get his crew back in line, and that was all. They hadn't done a thing to help these people, that was just a side effect--but they would hear none of it.
He stopped trying to argue with them, when he was delivered his first gift: a cold pint of bear. And that was especially welcome when his glass was occasionally refilled or replaced when it started to empty by a passing townsperson raising a cheer in his direction before leaving to rejoin the party.
But now he was staring at the bottom of his glass alone, and no such magic had replaced the downed liquid again. A bon fire roared in the center of town now, and Usopp was singing loudly along with a band of locals, and even Sanji decided to get up and enjoy the dancing. So, Zoro was alone on the edge of town. The flickers of orange and red light just reached where he sat in the shadows near the encroaching forest, under the balcony of the doctor's house.
He stares out at the fire and the banquet, considering getting up himself when the sound of a giggling breaks off followed by the creaking of the floor boards. Slightly off-kilter footsteps bring his attention back to his surroundings. When he looks over to the right, a familiar woman stands there. Though she looks incredibly relaxed, more so than he's seen her before.
"Mr. Roronoa—" (Y/n) was back again, for the fifth or so time tonight, and so he cut her off before she could finish.
"I'm fine." He grumbled again. "Stop asking."
As she comes closer and more into the light, he can actually see her flushed face and shy smile as she very obviously looks him up and down. Zoro's eyebrows ticked upwards. Then, she sits down with a smooth sort of slide that has her peering at him from across the porch.
"I didn't!" She defends, sounding more playfully whiney than he's ever heard before. "Mr. Roronoooa..." she elongates his name, "can't you be happy to see me? I even brought you something."
She offered out her left hand, which held a wooden pitcher, with a red-purple liquid sloshing around inside. Her smile widened as he took it, and he was surprised momentarily by how heavy it was.
It smelled like wine. And without hesitation he gulped a good bit of it down, wiping the sticky sweet but very potent tangerine liquor off his mouth with the back of his hand. He felt the real rush of alcohol hit his blood stream just after the sour tang of the wine faded. It was strong, stronger than he'd expected and many times fold the beers he'd been nursing all night.
He sees in her other hand another, albeit smaller, jug and the pieces click together.
Eyes narrowing, he asks, "Are you drunk?"
"Aw, still grumpy with me." She giggled, then sighed. "You always are."
She couldn't think that was what he thought of her. Right?
But she wasn't down cast for long. She took another long drink, swallowing while maintaining a playful eye contact. Then said, "Well, yes. Did you know that Ms. Nami's sister is a very generous sort of person, and she has a talent for brewing fruit wine! It's good, isn't it. She's even giving us a few casks. I tried to insist the town was being generous enough, but she wouldn't take no for an answer. But I suppose it is very good..." She rambled again.
Her voice trailed off as she was seemingly caught up in just looking at him. Taking another huge swig of wine, he felt a pleasant fuzzy dizziness rush through him. Another sort of rush followed soon after, though of a different kind, as it seemed like his Owleyes was not content just to sit across from him.
She leaned forward. Nose obviously seeking him out and her eyes half mast and her focus hazy, she drew closer to him and he made no comment.
But she didn't stop there, no, not where he could see the dip of her cleavage peaking from under the collar of her dress. She wasn't wearing her usual clothes and this dress must have been borrowed too because the v in the neck was most certainly deeper than her typical clothes or he would have noticed before.
He completely froze in place while she crawled forward on all fours towards him.
She stopped when her hands were right at the edge of his crossed legs, and he wasn't sure where to look.
Did she know what this looked like?
Her butt, which he could see just over her shoulder, wiggled back in forth in an inviting way, her breasts were practically spilling out, and the look in her eye was unfocused, yes, but deadly sharp with what couldn't be anything but lust.
"Mr. Roronoa..." She says in a low voice slightly slurred voice. If only she would just say his presentation like that, he'd lose control. "I know when you get all bloody, I should be worried about you—and I do I worry, I promise I do—but I also can't help but think how good you look. All roughed up and hot."
He doesn't know how to respond to that. He just looks at her, no less surprised than the moment before and trying his hardest not to seem affected, worried that any answer—positive or negative—would make her snap out of this drunken honesty.
"Though I'd appreciate the view more if it were the blood of our enemies you were soaked in rather than your own."
His own half-drunken grumble promises, "I can do that."
Perhaps she actually was very drunk. Black-out levels of drunk at that, since this scene was so out of character. And yet, it felt more honest than their tepid stares or casual tense moments of not-friction when he always wanted more. Because after he said that, she crept a little closer.
On her breath might have been the tang of the fruit wine, but it was the last thing he cared about. Her scent was usually just a tease, an aura that lingered around but was never on him in the way he wanted. And now it was all consuming, his attention sharpens even though he has no idea where to look. Her aura had shifted however, adding a sweet smokiness to it he'd never noticed before, hot like melting sugar and he wanted it on his tongue.
His alpha wanted to know that she was this hot because of him, and not because of the drinks or some other asshole—his thoughts trailed off as she came even closer. Zoro set the pitcher aside to make room for her to slip up across his lap.
Not that she relaxed her weight so that they were pressed chest to chest. He would have liked that though, but she seemed aware enough to avoid his injuries. So instead of touching him, her body just hovered there, almost on his lap but not quite either, letting him soak in the slight warmth made by her thundering heart. And though he didn't associate heat with her body, he was more than happy to learn about it.
"I'll look forward to it." She says, and her breath ghosts across his face.
With no more pretense or warning, her lips touched his and then parted, letting their mouths slot together in a slow sensual way. He didn't let surprise steal this moment from him.
His hand snaked up, cupping around the back of her neck while his fingers slipped around to hold her head in place. The fleeting submission of her tongue against his was followed by the smallest whimper of pleasure that cooed from her throat before she pulled away, and it was this smallest sound that echoed like cannon fire in his mind.
"(y/n)..." He breathes her name into her mouth. It tastes sweeter on his tongue than the wine does.
He doesn't even say her first name in his mind. He's been completely taken by the moment, for he wants to say it again and again, and then so much more.
She whines. A needy sort of sound that almost seems to form a word. And he's not sure whether he wants to curse when she pulls away from him or if he should thank her. For only when she parts, can he breathe again. Though he was tempted to drag her head back, to hold her in place and just take more and more he let her slip through his fingers.
She pulled away and nestled right back into her seat as if she'd never moved.
Her eyes drag up his body before her focus fixates on his lips, then his eyes. Then she blinks a few times quickly, like she was shocked with herself and drops her gaze entirely. She bashful, suddenly, like she's about to implode with embarrassment.
She stutters suddenly and shakes her head, "S-sorry, did I just stop talking? I feel like I lost a few minutes in my head there."
Drunk himself, Zoro hesitates to answer at first.
Eventually he settles on, "Don't worry about it, Owleyes."
"Oh alright." She sighs, this time in relief.
She saunters up to her feet, looking like she's trying to compose herself. Taking one lingering glance at the jug in her hand, he can see her consider taking another drink before thinking better not to.
"Anyway, I didn't mean to bother you for long. Now that your drink is delivered, I'll leave you be. I told Ms. Nami I'd keep an eye on her so she doesn't end up in bed with Mr. Sanji..."
She hiccupped and put a hand over her mouth, and they exchanged a look.
"Oh, I shouldn't have said that. I really ought to go now... Have a good night, Mr. Roronoa and try to get some rest."
She left then, with no more than a wave and rejoined the noisiness of the party.
He watched her disappear into the throngs of dancing villagers, wishing he'd told her not to go. Zoro took another long drink of wine and let the buzz settle into his blood. Though it tried to douse the spark which a simple kiss had now set in his stomach, it couldn't. Because the rush of strong booze was nothing when the press of her soft lips, somehow both insistent and yielding, against his mouth was a stamp on his memory that would not lift or fade.
Desire was a howl in him and he took another swig of wine. He can't believe himself. The hind in him was furious. This was his, and he'd let her just walk away.
It was an outrage to his instincts. Now, the feeling of fire was more like a burn. Unsatisfied, unsatiated, it was another wound to add to the many and the ache it left was somehow more cutting than his gash.
It was the worst and best thing that could have happened that night. When he didn't know if she had any sort of desire for him, his game stayed simple. He'd pine silently and never let his imagination sharpen into intent desire. But drink brought out the true heart of a person, and now he knew his desire was not one sided.
But he was also distinctly aware that in the morning she probably wouldn't even remember what she'd done and what she'd said.
He took another drink, and decided what to do about that.
There were a few tenants he kept as a swordsman, a man, and an alpha. One of them was very basic. He'd never force, or coerce, or blackmail a woman—omega or not—for physical attention. He valued personal freedom too much for that. If she didn't remember what she'd done, he wouldn't bring it up.
More than that, he would act like nothing had happened at all.
Yeah. He thought sitting back, totally decided.
As long as she doesn't remember, nothing was going to change... he could do that...
Easy...
X...X...X
a/n: Only a few chapters left to go until we reach the end of the Romance Saga and head onto the grand line! Next week I will be away, so there will be no new chapter~ But look forward to my return in August!
If you're too eager, you can find the rest of the story on Patreon already, and a few chapters leading up to Alabasta. (It's all free.) Thank you for reading my self indulgent friends!
With love, Bede!
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Alpha!Zoro x Omega!Reader | Alpha!Luffy x Reader | (EVENTUAL) Iota!Nico Robin x Omega!Reader | Platonic Everyone Else x Reader
[An Omegaverse One Piece Rewrite][Updates Every Wednesday]
X...X...X
Word Count: 4.7k
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X...X...X
For what should be the hide out of a notorious pirate fleet, Arlong Park is surprisingly ostentatious.
It's a rather fine looking five story pagoda, you think, with a pool which could also take water from the ocean and harbor a small boat, and a deck with lots of sunbathing chairs. It's funny such a place had yet to be targeted by the Marines...
At the head of the pool though, was a throne like driftwood chair where there sat a very large, very dangerous looking shark-man with blue-gray skin and a long saw-like nose.
Though perhaps most astonishing about his appearance was that nose, which looked to be several times longer than Usopp's! You'd seen fish-men before, though admittedly none this large and intimidating, but you'd never seen anyone with a nose quite like that.
You also watched Nami behaving strangely, most obviously so towards this big shark man who seemed to be the one in charge of the gang of fierce faces that surrounded him.
Though she was usually a happy-type, if not a little sly at times, now she put on a coarseness that didn't seem to suit her.
Nami was often callous about money, but she was also thoughtful and observant, and more often than not opportunistically trying to see the best side in any situation. And though she was thief, she never played the part of a blood-cold criminal.
She was just as cunning as she was playful—like a misbehaving cat.
And though you tried to listen carefully, the fishmen spoke in low rumbling voices that were difficult to decipher from a distance. But based on what you could understand of the conversation, Ms. Nami did not much like these people, even if she'd worked alongside them for years. And there was some sort of bargain which tied her loyalties to this place more so than companionship.
What caught your attention more was the copious amount of blood dripped off her right hand, more than should have been left behind from such a brief stabbing--and one done to another person at that! And she kept her fist tightly gripped around the red soaked knife when anyone else would have cleaned and sheathed it by now. And, though this was particularly strange, the color of blood on her hand and the red stained her neck and face were not the same brightness of red at all!
It was as obvious a difference to you as if the two had been green-and-purple instead, though you'd always had a keen sense of color so perhaps the fishmen just didn't notice.
All you could conclude, was that this all was very, very unusual.
The answers came however, when on the other side of the wall you heard a spitting and a spluttering and you looked out at sea to see that Usopp hand emerged from the depths and was taking gasping breaths just off shore.
You quickly hopped down and ran to him, though puffing and out of breath by the time you were close enough for him to hear your voice (though it took several shouts of Mr. Usopp! for him to get it, then several more for him to finally see you standing there and waving.) You helped pull him up to shore, though he sputtered and complained greatly, he eventually collapsed and muttered out a thank you.
Though he seemed rather miserable.
"Mr. Usopp, are you hurt?" You ask him, looking all over for injury.
And looking even more upset than if he had been, he simply told the most unbelievable truth. "No! Not even a little!"
Ms. Nami had, in fact, faked the stabbing by shoving the blade into her hand, and to sell the lie Usopp had exploded one of his ketchup stars on himself, which was what made the bright red and not-so blood-colored splotches.
Usopp was beside himself.
Though by his account she'd acted like a mean witch, and stole the Going Merry, she'd still saved his life. That much was undeniable, because surly he would have been killed by Arlong had he lingered around, simply as retaliation for what Zoro had done. He'd gone one a spree which left most of the fishmen fleet incapacitated, which explained the bodies strown all around.
It was then you explained that Johnny had been watching all the while. And that, having seen Usopp get stabbed, he'd run off to tell Zoro the news—that by all accounts Usopp was dead and Nami had killed him.
That got Usopp to shoot up from his pitiful splat spread on the dry grass. If that was true, Zoro was probably headed back to Arlong Park and if he fought Arlong that would only cause more trouble for them and by all accounts Luffy had yet to arrive on the island. And with injuries like Zoro had now, the fight would probably kill him...
To prevent that, they needed to catch up with the rest of them and fast.
Thankfully the fishmen were too busy to watch the roads, so you and Usopp headed westward back towards Cocoyashi Village as quickly as they could. But Usopp skid to a stop at the sudden booming of a strange sound hailing over the forest.
A familiar yet unexpected whopping yell echoed over the trees along with a huge crash. You stopped too, your eyebrows drawing up as you expressed with great confusion.
"Was that Captain yelling just now?"
Usopp stuttered, "What did that idiot do, fly here?"
"If anyone could, Captain would figure it out."
"Don't make that sound like a good thing!" Usopp grumbled.
You and he shared an exasperated look. The sound of another crash led them to veer off the path they were taking to Cocoyashi Village. Because if Luffy had arrived than the faster the crew got together the better. Zoro would probably do that same, and things just seemed to escalate around Luffy after all, and in the end, it was always for the best.
They quickly turned on their heels and headed in the direction of the noise without further discussion.
There was another horrifying crash, like a bomb shaking the island, and Usopp could barely keep running his knees were shaking so badly. But Usopp was an amazingly quick runner when he was motivated, and you had a hard time keeping up with him until you were nearly left in his dust. Running had never been your favorite activity and your lacking stamina showed for it.
"Mister... Usopp!" You warned him, too breathless to yell. "Wait for me!"
But Usopp was already well ahead, getting further and further away.
You did manage to catch up, though not before you could warn Usopp to slow down again, witnessing as he ran right between Zoro and their newly recruited chef Sanji just about to exchange blows, a sheathed sword and a flying kick colliding with Usopp's face instead of each other.
Looking beat up and particularly sick of life, Usopp wavered there between them for a moment, looking stunned.
Zoro froze, and his brows shot up. "I guess he is alive."
"Maybe not anymore though..." Sanji added as Usopp slumped to the ground.
But Usopp grabbed his cheek, tears pricking his eyes, "Why'd you have to go and hit me so hard??"
"Sorry." Zoro and Sanji muttered, albeit not very sincerely.
You followed, slowing down nearby and folding over, huffing and puffing from running for so long. Frankly, you felt like you could barf, despite it all, you couldn't help but feel relieved. Luffy was here, and everyone was together—and so, everything was put to right.
Well... everyone was here, besides Nami. And though Usopp didn't look very happy at the moment, he was not the member of the crew looking most worse for wear.
Zoro was at least in a new oversized shirt now, covering up his messy gauze. It was one of those colorful button up linen shirts all the fishmen seemed to all wear, and he must have stolen the clothes off of one of them. He looked good in it, you quickly appreciated, then felt a little embarrassed to have thought that. It made it easier for to overlook the thick dirty bandages underneath them, at least for now.
As if he could just sense your eyes on him, Zoro didn't even spare a glance for the beta he'd nearly killed and was nursing his crooked nose. Instead those dark eyes of his finding your gaze with a snap. And though your hind mind purred at the reunion, you stifled those feelings that wanted to run up to him and grab him like he was yours or something.
He didn't greet you, and you stifled a smile or any sort of reaction, instead looking as Luffy wobbly walks off the recked ship that crashed into the trees. Despite crash landing he looks alright, which is also a relief, and then your attention turns towards their new ship mate.
Sanji... if he was here, than he and captain must have come to some kind of agreement. He was a little forward, you could admit, but overall seemed nice enough. A giving sort of alpha, as far as you could tell. If Captain wanted him aboard, you were happy to him see dragged along too.
He was a least a very good cook. The rest of him... you could get used to.
Now if they could only get Nami back, everything would be exactly how it needed to be...
Luffy ran forward when he noticed Usopp collapsed on the side of the road.
"Usopp!" Luffy yelled at him, picking up his limp body and shaking him, "Did Nami do this to you? Where's (y/n)? Where's the Merry? Usopp answer me!"
"Well, no, that was actually he and I." Sanji admits.
"You mean just you." Zoro cut back and Sanji rolled his eyes.
"Listen here, if you hadn't started it--"
"I don't start anything." Zoro cut in and before they could begin to start arguing again, you ran past them and to Luffy's side.
"Captain!" You greeted, Luffy looked up and smiled wide when he heard your hailing. "The Merry is safe don't worry. But Nami..."
Luffy dropped his attention back to Usopp, letting him sit up on his own. "Yes, look! I made it!"
"Y-you did, and... that guy." Usopp peered past Luffy to stare at Sanji, who waved. Usopp grimaced. Obviously, he wasn't as willing to let bygones be bygones as you were.
"What's the problem with Nami?" Luffy prompted.
Usopp dropped his gaze, his long nose almost catching in his shirt, "There is a huge problem. She saved my life!"
You nodded, "She did. She tricked the Arlong Pirates and everything. I watched them for a while Captain. I don't quite know what to make of her when she talks with them. It's like she's not herself!"
Usopp nodded, "It's exactly what I thought, ghost girl. It's weird. Nami's a member of the Arlong Pirates, but I think she hates them."
"She hates her pack?" Luffy tilted his head and looked confused.
"I don't think they're pack." You shared, and Luffy only seemed more befuddled.
While you all had been busy making this large reunion, Another person had approached this little stretch of road between a patchwork of square rice fields. She dressed in a familiar style, girlish and poppy and kept a familiar bob haircut, but her hair was blue rather than red.
She had a serious look about her, though she was a beautiful woman who Sanji instantly swooned over.
Usopp got to his feet as Luffy pointed at her. "You!"
"Yes, me. And I'm here to tell you it's useless." She said to them, "No matter what you do, you won't be able to stop Arlong. His rule around here is iron clad and we've all accepted it."
Luffy didn't sound like he was listening. He turns to Usopp, with a thumb pointed the woman's way. "Who is that?"
Usopp looked, and said, "Oh, that's Nami's sister."
Sanji looked ready to propose. "N-N- Nami-swan's sister? No wonder she's a stunner."
It was Zoro that asked the pertinent question, "What do you mean by useless?"
"I mean what I said." She replied coolly, and crossed her arms. "I'm going to ask you all politely to not involve yourselves with this village any further. Since you've come this far, I'll tell you why things are the way they are here, and in return I want you to agree to leave."
The woman's serious voiced meant to leave no room for argument. These were her terms, whether they liked it or not.
But Luffy deadpanned, "I'm good, I don't really need to know."
Her face said it all. What? Luffy didn't even look her wave, waving them off and walking down the road, "I'm taking a walk, (y/n) make sure Zoro's not going to die."
"Aye aye, Captain." You agreed, and didn't need any more prompting.
"Take a walk??" Usopp was aghast, "You won't listen?"
"Nah, I said I'm good." Luffy repeated.
Nami's sister wasn't sure what to say, "What's with him?"
"Don't mind it, he'd the kind of alpha that doesn't make promises he can't keep. But we'll all listen to what you have to say. Though I doubt hearing about it will change any of our minds." Zoro muttered, already one eye closed as he made himself comfortable leaning against a tall palm tree. It didn't appear like he would actually be listening, which would be typical of him.
"Mr. Roronoa—" You mean to step in and help him.
He sighed, cutting you off before you could finish asking her question. "I don't need you to check on me either, I'm fine."
You were not convinced. "You are not fine."
"Check up on, Usopp." He crosses his arm, as dismissively as he can.
"Let me at least change your bandage."
"I said no."
You don't even respond, but his frown ticks a little lower, like he can hear in the air how much you disapprove. You would think that, but you doubt he was that attuned to you.
"My face does hurt..." Usopp interjects, having inferred first aid was a possibility through Zoro's side of the conversation alone.
"My sweetest (y/n), you can check on me~" Sanji curls out, suddenly remembering you were there at all, "I can show you a few places on me that hurt so terribly from our crash into the island!"
You sigh now, and a smirk twitches Zoro's lips. "You're fine, Mr. Sanji."
"Oh..." the chef deflates, "your cold shoulder sparks my heart like flint."
Zoro scoffs and closes his eyes, which does not go unnoticed. Sanji turns back towards the swordsman and crosses his arms, acting disgusted by his behavior.
"You say all that in just fall asleep in front of two beautiful woman? I just can't understand that moss headed idiot." Sanji mutters to himself. "I can't understand half of this, honestly."
"Anyway Nojiko," Usopp talks over Sanji while he mumbles about the weirdness of this crew he's decided to join, "we'll listen to you."
Sighing, Nami's sister can't help but smile a little. "What a strange bunch you are, I see... it's no wonder you're the kind to give Nami so much trouble. I'll tell you anyway, and afterwards you will understand why I say you should leave this place..."
And Ms. Nami's sister Nojiko told a sad tale of their shared childhood. They both began as orphans in a war on the other side of the East Blue, and were taken in by their adoptive mother. She sounded like a strong woman, an alpha and veteran who ended her service by taking in the runts she'd found in the aftermath of a terrible battle. Having never before been interested in motherhood, the woman took in those two girls as her own, like they were always meant to be.
They lived together for nearly a decade as family, until the Arlong pirates arrived on their island. The fish folk enslaved the locals, demanding tithes for living on islands they now declared their own. But her small family was terribly poor, living mostly off of the food and proceeds from their tangerine farm and the new tax would have been impossible for the mother to pay with their monthly earnings, and could not be covered by even their savings.
For her poverty, and for the love of her children, their mother gave up her life. Using her savings to pay for the lives of the two girls she'd claimed as her own, though to the world there was no documentation which declared them officially family. No blood. No ties as any fishmen could recognize, cold to the intangible bonds of pack as they were.
Through fights and hardship, that woman loved her pups to the end of her life. A proud figure that was taken from them by execution. The Arlong Pirates shot her dead right before their eyes, leaving the two girls alone in a miserable world.
They tried to live without her, but on an island this small with their opportunities so limited, they seemed to be doomed. In the end, Nojiko quietly planned to offer herself to the pirates as everything she was worth, being an omega. It was the only thing she could think to do to ease the strife of their town as a powerless fourteen-year-old.
But before she could, Nami prevented her by exposing her skill as a map maker—a skill which was infinitely more valuable to the fish folk than the coin they might have made for selling an omega to the highest bidder.
And so, this was how Nami had taken up the responsibility of her sister and her village's safety. In exchange for her skills, she'd gained the hope from Arlong that she'd be able to buy all of their freedom. One day, if she just saved a hundred million beri's, they would be free of him. Nami made it sound like it was so simple, but it was easy to tell in Nojiko's voice that she doubted it would be that cut and dry.
You listened thoughtfully with a deep sympathy for Nami, better understanding her misery on the boat. She must have felt unbelievably torn between what new bonds she was forming, and the responsibility she had to these people she dearly loved...
"Ever since that day eight years ago, that girl decided to not show her tears to anyone, or to ask for help!" She finished the heart wrenching tale with those words." All because she doesn't want anyone to be killed by Arlong, like our mother was... Do you know how painful it must have been for her to make that decision when she was barely twelve years old?"
"How could someone do that?? How cruel are these fishmen?" Usopp demanded.
"I'll kill them for making Nami-swan's heart ache!" Sanji sounded incredibly fired up as well but Nokijo looked increasingly frustrated with them.
"Can't you understand?" She demanded to the boys. "Don't undermine her determination by getting in her way—it will only cause her more heart break!"
A 'when you fail' laid in the air, unsaid.
Sanji crossed his arms and looked thoughtful and shook his head. Even Zoro stood up from his nap. Hearing what they heard, there was only one answer to the pain Nami suffered under all alone.
It seemed that her sister sensed this determination and hung her head, having clearly lost in her bid to save her sister in the way she'd been most comfortable doing all this time. But you watched the slight with the kinship of understanding—the end of one way of life was the beginning of another and sometimes it was well worth the risk of heart break to find true freedom.
"I suppose I can't stop you...well, I'll take you back to town, we'll see if Nami is there. She often returns when there's been trouble at the Park."
To this they agreed quickly, and headed back towards Cocoyashi Village.
When they got to town, you soon realized the spirit of liberation was infectious. It wasn't just Nami's sister that felt the shift in the air—the will to stand up against the injustice they'd all just lived with was pushing the townsfolk to action as well. Whatever had spurred them to action, they were determined to face of the Arlong Pirates now, laying their lives on the line for the right to live free without fear. Even if actually beating the fishmen seemed impossible.
What made humans human was the will to conquer impossible challenges. This fire you saw in every human in that village. It was no wonder Miss Nami was so courageous.
The Strawhat crew stepped into town just as Nami faced off against her fellow villagers. She was desperate to get them to stay here, where it was safe. She attempted to console them—she'd buy their freedom; she just needed a little more time. No one needed to get hurt this way. She even threatened them with a knife, ordering them to stay back. But a man with a scarred body tugged Nami's arm—rendering her threat null—and pulled her into a hug.
There was no need for Nami to fight all alone anymore.
Feeling that from the whole village, Nami sunk deeper, trying desperately to hold back her tears.
It's no use! The town's folk echoed, Our hearts are set! Freedom or death!
The scarred man, who seemed to be very important to both the town and Nami, though you did not know who he was or that he was something like a father to the twice orphaned girls, said very forcefully, "Now move out of our way, Nami!"
And Nami could not hold the flood of them back any longer. The villagers yelled about their spirit, and their desire to be free of the fishmen and stormed off into the forest towards Arlong Park.
As the crew walked closer, you noticed Luffy standing by not far away from the bustle, watching Nami carefully as she fell to her knees. The other men in the crew, respectful of her pain, looked away from her crumbled form, sitting around the now empty street and awaiting Luffy's next action, seemingly by instinct alone.
Nami let out a horrible cry. It was a retching broken scream.
"ARLONG!" She cursed his name, she grabbed her knife again and screaming his name over and over stabbed at the tattoo on her shoulder repeatedly, trying to gash out the Pirate mark he'd forced on her as a child. The light peppermint of her scent was strong and bitter on the air, and mushed with the scent of fury and broken flesh.
She must stab herself at least five times before Luffy's suddenly behind her, snatching her wrist and stopping her from doing any more damage to herself.
You watch carefully, so very carefully. A deep sadness stirs in you for her, but your face remains passive, making yourself as much as an observer as you can be. Taking in, seeing, remembering. You feel Zoro's eyes on you, just for a moment before he sits back and waits for orders—he knows that if your watching there he doesn't need to see anymore, taking every second to heal before the trouble really hits.
Like they hadn't already found plenty of trouble.
So, he sits at the side of the road under a straw umbrella, a sword keeping his head propped up. Usopp and Sanji both turn their back to the scene, having seen enough of Nami's pain and tears to seal their resolve.
Nami throws sand at Luffy, along with a myriad of insults. But none of that matters when her voice breaks so painfully and she sobs when she finally runs out of off-handed angry remarks to hurl.
You see her though.
You sees how your friend is sucking in a lip and on the brink of her sanity. Sometimes the hardest, bravest thing to do wasn't to carry the burden of your troubles all by yourself, but to finally ask for help. Nami hung her head low. Low, low, low. So low, almost bowing in the dirt to hid the tears streaming down her face.
And when she asked it was in a quiet, plead, "Luffy...please help me..."
There is just a beat of silence before Luffy steps up and places his prized Straw Hat on Nami's head, and shouts.
"Of course I will!!"
And though it's a terribly sad sight, you smile. This is why you loved this crew, why you would follow Luffy to the ends of the seas and back. Luffy stepped past Nami then, and the rest of the Strawhat's were in position awaiting him.
"Let's go." He says, in a serious direct tone almost alien on Luffy. He sounds like a captain. Like a real alpha she sometimes forgets he is.
"Roger." The men all say at once.
Nami cover's her mouth, watching them get ready to risk their lives for her, totally unable to hold back her crying now the gates of eight years of repression had opened. Luffy looked at you and pointed his thumb back towards Nami, and you nodded. You didn't need to say a thing and nor did he.
You'd bring Nami back.
For a long while, you just sat beside your friend and watched her cry.
She refused to have her shoulder bandaged up, refused to do any more than sit in the street and sob, so you allowed it for a long while. The sounds of people had long since faded, and so the only noises to be heard in town were the coconut tree leaves rustling, the ocean's constant crashing up into shore, and the slowing sobs emanating from the broken looking red-haired navigator.
"Miss Nami, lift your head." You eventually command her.
Nami shakes her head instead, refusing to look up from her hands and at the ground now made wet and muddy by her weeping eyes and wound. Though you had your hand offered out, a splay of soft tissues ready to be used offered freely, Nami did not uncurl herself. But with her heart open and honest now, at least Nami can hear and see you, which is enough a hold for you to know she was not totally lost.
You do not sigh or chastise her, and in an even steady voice just ask:
"Are you going to let them fight for you with no witnesses?"
Nami suck in her lower lip, still shaking her head, "I don't want to watch them die."
"And what would you do if they do die, Ms. Nami?" You prompt. "If Arlong really is so unstoppable that Captain Luffy and Mr. Roronoa cannot defeat him. What will you do?"
Wide eyed, Nami raises her gaze from her palms to the ground. Blinking away the gathered wetness in her eyes, she still looks miserable. But in a tight voice she answers, "I'd kill that bastard myself. I don't care if it takes me years, I'd find a way."
"Then, is there any world that you can imagine where Arlong is not one day defeated? If our crew mates are all killed—if our pack—" You emphasize instead and Nami's eyes get wide and water, "were to die here today, of course I'd try to get revenge too. And if they can't do it, and you can't do it, and I can't do it, one day, Arlong will cross the wrong person and he'll be stopped. It's simply inevitable."
Nami took a piece of soft tissue paper you offered finally, and rubbed her face into it, unable to meet you unwavering stare or answer.
"So why stay here, crying about a future that's impossible, when..." And you couldn't help but smile to yourself instead of finish.
Nami looked up, her green eyes wide with so many emotions, prompting quickly, "When what?"
"When we could be watching them win!"
Looking still to wrestle with something inside herself, the Nami you knew eventually won out, and the young woman smiled. "You're right... I've already cried and complained as much as I can. And everyone's already fighting! We can't let them have all the fun! Or get into too much trouble." She added, her smile falling just a little at the thought.
"Let's go then." You reached over and hugged her, slowly removing your hands with a grimace as you realized they were covered in blood. "But let's get you bandaged up first..."
X...X...X
A/N: Next week is a very exciting chapter~~~ We'll be back in Zoro's POV and here's your hint on what's to come, it's called "Zoro Get's Kissed (Finally!)"
Hope you look forward to it.
With love, Bede
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IN THE AFTERMATH OF that fateful conversation with his father, Ronan Maraci, who was rather fond of his position as Heir to the territory, had no choice but to return to his pack and tell them news he knew they would not like.
That left a bitter taste in Ronan’s mouth. He was certain that by the end of the night, all of his pack would have walked away from him, leaving him alone in this burden. None would approve.
These heavy thoughts took him all through the night, until his eyes landed on one of his most beloved.
It was always refreshing to see Galen; he had a certain lightness about him that was always welcome. His hair looked windblown and there was a charming smile already spreading those flush plush lips that gets wider when their gazes meet. Literally, those sparling golden eyes crinkle up and it soothes all troubles for just a moment.
These complaints, which Ronan laid bare, would not stand in the face of his one true bond.
Galen shook his head, and grasped Roman's hands. “I never feel incomplete with you. Never have, not in a thousand worlds. But there’s no need to incarnate again just so we can all find each other again and do it over and over and over. Again. Endlessly. Well, that does sound a little romantic.” Galen shrugged, “But I have a feeling that’s it’s the other three—or I guess four—that keep this ship going, not you or me. Because I already know you’re mine, eternally.”
The unsaid truth weighed Ronan’s heart as much as this confession endeared him. They all desired that, so did everyone in the world. To be in a state of complete spiritual union was the most pure purpose of pack, after all. As they were, they were so close to that unity that it was distinctly uncomfortable, as was the idea of threatening the balance already at hand.
But could it ever, really, truly be theirs? Sweet as it would be, this he thought surely impossible...
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[New chapters every Monday at 5pm EST]
Want more? This excerpt is from an ongoing story published on Patreon and Ream, follow to find full chapters of the rest there (and the first three for free)!
Is there a link to your masterlist with your other stories? I can't seem to find it in the pinned post.
I'm sorry, there isn't one!
If you're looking for fanfic, you can find all of it on Ao3. If you're looking for all my monster stuff, just looking up monsters in the search bar will probably find all those. You can find most everything on Patreon pretty well organized, get titles and search it on here as well. Everything short story over there is either free, or if it's smut it's on the lowest tier.
Can I please have part two of horseman with reader's head, when horseman got head back and reader seeing what he looks like she just like "hey, remember that thing we did can we do it again so can hear you." (smut)
This was another fun one (which also got long), it was interesting imagining how a Rider would come back to their head, and what that would mean to them. Too much lore lol. Also, I have a huge oral fixation myself, but I tend not to write a lot of oral stuff, so that’s always a joy.
The Headless Horseman's Bride | Here | The Headless Horseman's Savior | The Enthralled Horseman
X...X...X
CH. 1 | CH. 2 | CH. 3
X...X...X
There was just one way that a man became a headless rider.
A person, well renowned for their skills as a horseman, had to have their head chopped off. It didn’t really matter why, as long as those two conditions were met at time of death. When one was both a rider and beheaded, the way towards the eternal ride were open for any spirit called away from the salvation of a finished life and instead towards the Endless Road.
A much more convoluted process led one to becoming a phantom head. Just an ordinary beheaded individual could cling to the essence of their head instead of the rest of their body. A person who perhaps thought too much in life instead of doing may end up more a head in the after, instead of their whole person.
And, in the most rare occasions, a person’s head and body could start two separate—though distinctly incomplete—ghostly existences.
Thus, it was sometimes apt for a headless spirit to seek a replacement, and for the bodiless spirits to desire the same.
You are a Head to a Headless Rider, who you’ve traveled with for some time.
Though he cannot speak, you often find him pigheadish and stubborn, yet roguishly charming, and you’d do just about anything for him. You spend time on his shoulders on nights the roads are clogged so he need not hide or fear discovery. You tell him of things he cannot see coming down the road, and when to avoid sight.
To him you may sometimes be chatty, slightly self-absorbed, and cheeky, but life would be so dull without you he’d rather not be on the Ride. He keeps you in his protection, so that you don’t end up some rolling lost soul on the side of the road.
With him, you are never lost. You worry for nothing really, and he likes you that way, so you may complain as much as you like about your petty grievances without much bothering him. Complaints are the outcome of keeping a spoiled head.
Not to mention, he enjoyed the special kind of pleasure you brought into his life which none other had.
Alone on the Ride you made kind of an odd pair but a functional one, overall. It is not obvious how odd you are as his head, until you are around others of his kind at All Hallows’ Eve.
Once a year, the Riders feel a pull to the Road and join one another in a parade of spirits deemed by all as the Hunt. For this, they are joined by their heads or their partners, if a Rider chooses to have such a sentimental companion. You are only one of few female heads with male counterparts, at least one with just a head, and it makes you something of a social outcast (though you loath to admit it.)
You’d been oddly quiet the day you and he arrive at the gathering, more so than usual. He thinks the others might just be being mean to you, but he witnesses no such bullying. There is, however, a rush of gossip amongst the heads and ride-a-longs. Rumor is, that one of the oldest ghosts in the hunt has not arrived this year. They say he found his head and left the Ride, leaving behind his ephemeral life.
He, in his own way, prompts you about your time in the Hunt. It is an unwavering kind of silence, and a sense that he wants your attention. After some time of this gentle prompting, that’s when you reveal what it is you’ve been thinking. You surprise him when you kind of lean up to look at him, looking more kind than you aught.
“We could find your head, I bet it’s still around.” You say, then seem bashful, “I mean, you’ve a stubborn kind of spirit I doubt it stayed a corpse.”
The Rider finds this a curious idea, one that lingers on his un-contained thoughts as he rides the Hunt and eventually all the Riders go their own ways, and wander the weary roads of the world. Though he can’t voice his lingering thoughts, eventually you and he end up riding towards a place he often avoids—the location of his death.
“Sometimes I wonder how you died…” You say as he slows his approach to a long-begotten graveyard.
He has no away to answer you, but the wind blows a low whistle. He doesn’t much like to think about that time, nor would he burden you with such knowledge, even if he could speak and tell it to you.
Looking around, he finds himself a stranger in this place, though in his soul he knows this must be the place he found his first end. It is a quiet place now, not much different from any old graveyard, but it was once a place of execution, and before that a terrible battlefield.
They come upon it late at night, when the moon is just a sliver in the sky, so they pass through the big stone walls which keep most folks away from this scarred land.
You roll off the saddle where you normally sit, and hit the ground with a no sound. Off into the slight grass and stone you move yourself. And this begins the search.
His own part in looking for his head is halfhearted at best. He can’t really see per say, but he could be trying to sense harder than he currently is. You both wander around for a while, weaving respectfully between the tombstones and searching for the place where once he might have laid to be decapitated.
You find it. A flicker of a spirit that draws you in, familiar and unresolved. You nudge it up from the dirt, then it reveals itself as one of your own kind. A spirit head. The Rider comes quick to your side when you shout with excitement, and when his head comes to him all sense of unease leaves him.
At first you seem rather pleased with yourself. When his head reaffixes to his ghostly body, and before you is a full man, you can’t help but feel a little pride.
Then, when you see his handsomeness and wholeness, you shrink. Ah, he is too good, and too perfect. All at once too much, when you are so obviously too little. And this is even before you see hear his voice!
“My.” He speaks with a somewhat uncertain tone. “That feels strange after all this time.”
He blinks oddly, and looks around at the world with new eyes.
It’s as if a veil has lifted up, and what was a blurred glow of the world to his undead senses has sharpened. His vision before was not solid or real, but readable in the way snakes may see thermally in vague forms and gauges. Perception snapped into focus and all the world was his to behold once more.
Even here, in a grim place like a graveyard, he sees only beauty.
What a perfect glow a light mist stirring the overgrown grass and worn mausoleums has. What color the faded grave stones have, with the inscribed names mostly forgotten. Trees of yew scrape at the sky with limbs that are half-dead, only the barest of leaves still clinging to them before the coming winter robs the branches of their summer crowns.
He looks so elated with it all. But you?
Your heart, which is literally so very far from your person, aches. Indeed, he looks so delighted with his new vision you cannot help but feel pale in comparison to a newly returned world. You will be nothing to him now. He has no need of you.
Perhaps this was a bad idea.
You’ve returned his head, and now he’ll disappear, just like that old ghost. Or he’ll find you useless, and discard you. When one needs one head, having one that’s not the original seems fine.
But certainly, certainly, a person doesn’t need two heads. Not in any way. That seems so obvious now.
Your revelation leaves a haunting lull in the mood. You can’t even hide your upset, though you mean to.
“I suppose this is goodbye.” You say, almost teary.
At the warbly sound of your voice, he turns to you pointedly. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, you certainly don’t need a head around anymore, do you? Are you going to fade into the air and go to, well, well, wherever it is we go.” You sniffle. “It was very good traveling with you and all, don’t feel too bad leaving me behind.”
“Leave you behind?” Shaking his head, he can hardly say the words, “I can’t leave you behind.” He says like it’s just the most simple kind of fact.
“I-I-I can make it on my own.” You try to bluster, bouncing your head to turn away from him. “You don’t have to stay just because you think I can’t.”
For the first time, you can hear is light exhale, which sounds extraordinarily like the wind that always seems to blow around him, and it is a sound of fondness and exasperation.
“You silly lady…” He leans down, and picks you up. “Like I would leave you all alone on the road, just who do you think you’ve been riding with?”
He gives you no chance to answer. But he steps towards you, and with a precision that he did not before have, swoops up your head into his hands, and brings it up to eye level. Now that he truly sees you, you are a remarkably fine-looking woman. He’s sure the rest of you much match, and now that he’s been made whole once again, their next task seems all too clear.
“I never thought I might find my head—I’m so lucky I picked you off the side of the road, for where would I be without you! No, no, we’ll find your body, and when we both stand together whole, we’ll walk into the after together. That sounds like a suitable end to me.”
“You…” You blink up at him, bashful for once in your unlife. “…promise?”
“I promise.”
And then, much to your esteemed and his pleasure, he brings your lips to his newly reattached ones. It’s a ghostly kiss, yet it holds all the heat of passion one might expect two living lovers to share after being at long distance.
Of course, his lips would be as skilled as his riding, you think with some glee, having never thought such a kiss like this would be possible.
His fingers dig into your hair, and you feel a sense of appreciation and love which was impossible for him to show when he’d been headless. It kind of radiated from him, in these pleasant moments after becoming whole and it makes all your worries melt away.
When he releases you, he sighs, “That’s nice to finally be able to do.”
“And… ah… what else is it you’ve wanted to do?”
He laughs, a deeply amused chuckle. Such a sound makes that butterfly feeling that shouldn’t exist yet by some magic still does flitter across you in a bashful way.
“Are you eager to please me?” He laughs again.
You nod, best you can. You are very eager indeed. The desire to please him is what sent you both journeying to this place.
He coos at you, “I suppose you’ve earned a reward. I would have never looked for my head on my own, nor found it here even if I bothered to return. But what would you have that reward be? I’ve already promised to go look for your lost body. If I’m stubborn, you are triply so, and so I’m sure your person must have persisted elsewhere.”
Not so sure if that was true, you were more interested in his first question than thinking about your body out there somewhere without the guidance of your head.
“I know what you want. Minxy woman. I can’t imagine what you’ll do when you can hold yourself up, hm.” He teased. “You might just toss me down whenever the need strikes you.”
“As if I could!”
He chuckles. “I imagine you might try one day.”
And the Rider (not so headless anymore) sits himself at the base of a nearby tree and sets you to the side to undo his pants a bit. When his cock is free, he grabs you once more and brings you level with his half hard cock.
Becoming whole has been an unexpectedly exciting experience.
Even before he could even see what exactly this looks like, he’d been a mite obsessed with using your head like some kind of sex-sleeve. Now, looking on you like this with his own eyes, he finds all the other times were half wasted. The look of his cock against your cheek is one he never wants to be without again.
Already hardening more, he slips his length between your eager lips, and with a controlling the pace, and your practiced lips, he finds himself soon in high pleasure.
“You’re too good at this.” He hisses through his teeth, though is barely coherent.
That was the last sentence he could squeak out, as he was much to overwhelmed by the sensation of your lips, and the vacuum like suction in which you in took his length.
What a pleasure it is, to hear all the parts of his enjoyment which before were before just a stretch of silence and your imagination. To know for certain that he likes it when you rub your tongue this way, or that way, was a gift indeed. Or when you suck particularly hard, and at which depth made his brow knot and a hiss of a sigh to escape his lips.
Seeing how his ghostly face contorts with pleasure under the sliver of moon light has been your dream for some time.
It’s with two huffs of breaths, a grunt, and a sharp intake of air (which surely he didn’t need, but that didn’t much matter), he finished. When he was more ghost than man, his release was more unreal and there was an obtuse amount of it. If you’d been a real full person who could fear such things, you might have drowned in it.
But instead, it spills through the hole in your neck and onto the muddy ground beneath you, fading quickly into the aether of the air.
You, feeling a bit fuzzy headed, are pulled away from his member and left in a daze. Even with his head, it seemed like he just couldn’t get enough of yours. Passionately, he lifts you again, and finds that he rather likes the press of your lips against his after you’ve made him both an entire person again and one that feels this good.
When he kisses you again, all feels right in the world. You’ll journey off, and well, if he like you like this, he’d surely like you when you become whole too!
…
Right?
X...X...X
Thank you for reading, and thank you for requesting!
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Alpha!Zoro x Omega!Reader | Alpha!Luffy x Reader | (EVENTUAL) Iota!Nico Robin x Omega!Reader | Platonic Everyone Else x Reader
[An Omegaverse One Piece Rewrite][Updates Every Wednesday]
X...X...X
Word Count: 3.6k
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X...X...X
Now, that splash was quickly followed by another, as Nami could not bear to watch Zoro drown. He'd have been laughing all the way to the jail he was dragged into if he could spare the strength for it. But after he was dragged back onto the deck, he was thrown into a cell where he sat in a self-satisfied manner.
Though it appeared that there was no way out from the situation he'd been thrown in, he sat patiently and unconcerned. Perhaps the delirium was more intense than he realized, for he was just certain that not long from now, he would be let out.
This he told the guard who lingered at his door to ensure it was locked, but the fishman just called him a stupid human, and walked away.
To this Zoro chuckled darkly, already envisioning how he would carve through this place with a righteous and vengeful fury. Like some kind of demon of the sword, awakened by the stench of death. And if the fishmen were really that strong they could try and stop him—but Zoro strongly doubted they could.
Though he couldn't hear much, he knew there was a commotion in the Park before everything went quiet. Most of the voices gone, like they'd cleared out to go elsewhere.
Too bad, less bodies he could decorate the halls with.
In fact, it wasn't long after Nami appeared again.
She cut his ropes and threw him his sword and two others, demanding he leave before running off herself, not bothering to explain herself one way or another. He takes his time getting up and testing the weight of a new blade in his hands.
She doesn't stick around to make sure he follows orders. Not like she could make him do anything, now that he was free, so he considers what he should do.
Sure, he'd leave. But he wouldn't do so without leaving his mark on these overly confident fish people. And so, he reigns his own chaos on Arlong Park while its master is away. When he left, taking a ride from an oblivious octopus man, it was with a courtyard full of easily defeated men behind him, making Zoro wonder why their leader seemed to think them all inherently superior...
No one is stronger than an alpha on a rage to reclaim what's theirs. If the fishman wouldn't learn that now, when Luffy arrived, they would never forget it.
Zoro had never been more sure of anything in his life.
...
On the other side of the island, while Zoro was straining his body too much and slicing the Arlong crew to incapacitation, and Usopp was facing off Arlong as the great pirate went to bully the residents of Cocoyashi Village, where were you?
It was perhaps embarrassing to admit, that when Nami stole the ship, you hadn't even realized it at first. Having descended from the crow's nest around the time the supplies began to exit the Baratie to feed the starving crew of the Don Kreig battalion, you made a completely incorrect assumption that the trouble had passed. And were a little too sure that the rest of the crew would be soon returning.
So instead of manning the watch as you were like to do, you descended, heading below deck where the boys slept and their general supplies were kept—though with Luffy around, calling any food down there "safely kept" wasn't exactly true.
And even though you were sure everything must be fine now—you'd seen the trouble pass with your own eyes, there was a tense feeling in your chest that wouldn't go away.
This was why looking out at a still sea for too long was bad for the heart! If the mess was over, and that war ship was simply in an unfortunate accident with a sea monster and in need of supplies, what good would it do to anxiously stare at it? None.
Maybe you'd been a little to anxious when you Mr. Roronoa that warning, with how the air seemed unnaturally still in the moment it seemed rational.
But now?
Best to keep your hands busy, so you don't go around assuming there's more trouble than there is. It was much better to be in the dim of the cabin, with a clipboard in hand counting how many barrels of rum and rice they had left. It was your—self-imposed—responsibility to ensure they had everything they needed to sail safely and happily.
And for now, that meant keeping up with their food and drink supplies (mostly trying to keep Luffy from eating it all) and the other miscellaneous things a ship needed to be in tip top shape. You were a touch worried about the level of their supplies, see, and curious about trading with the chefs for a few things the crew'd been using faster since they'd taken Johnny and Yosaku on board.
Namely their liquor stash, which was beginning to run dry with four heavy drinkers aboard instead of just two. Nami and Zoro did not have much in common, save for their love for rum, and so you thought it best the ship didn't run dry.
You were so lost in thought, wondering what it was they could trade out of their supplies a boat like the Baratie might need, that you didn't notice the first odd movements on the ship. It didn't seem like the Merry would be carrying anything they'd want. Not as you flicked through extra sail fabric and wood supplies for keeping the ship in sailing shape—doubting the restaurant would need either of those. It was around than the boat lurched, you stumbled, and then wondered if a storm was coming in, and move on, continuing to look at your clipboard, totally unbothered.
Undenounced to you, at this point Nami had commandeered the Going Merry and was headed swiftly towards Arlong Park with the help of a strong headwind. The ship was practically skipping across the water, so fast and smooth, in the darkness of under the deck, it felt like you were completely still! So when you did stick your head up, you froze, shocked to see the boat surrounded by open ocean.
Running to the railing didn't help, though you couldn't stop yourself from staring open mouth at the sudden change in view. Baratie and the battalion were nowhere in sight, nor was the rest of the crew.
Luffy was too loud to hide, Mr. Roronoa wasn't sleeping against the mast, Usopp wasn't tinkering (and complaining).
Their guests Yosaku and Johnny were never very quiet either, and impossible to miss. You didn't even see Nami at first, afraid the ship had just drifted off, so a moment later you're running to the helm, to see if theirs anyway you could try and sail the ship back yourself.
(Though which way would be the right way back... you'd have to figure that out later!)
This was pandemonium, you were in utter panic as you burst into the part kitchen, part helm-room—until you saw Nami crying at the table. Her hand was wrapped around a bottle and she sobbed into the crook of her arm.
You entered the room quickly, and what you thought was loudly. The door burst open behind you, and slammed shut. You ran to her, shook her arm, called her name, anything to get her attention and ask her what was going on. But—and perhaps it's because she was so upset—no matter what you did to get her attention Nami wouldn't even look your way let alone explain herself.
You felt like a mime, pulling on an invisible and immovable object. But it was all useless effort.
Captain Monkey D Luffy and Mr. Zoro Roronoa were not the only people you'd met that were able to see and sense you, but with them around, it seemed you'd forgotten the sting of a life that was spent by a mostly invisible person.
It was lonely, so very lonely...
You sighed.
Giving up, you end up sitting across the table from Nami and only able to watch as she drowned another glug of her beer bottle than got up to steer the boat, feeling incredibly pensive. Whatever was bothering her, it obviously took up her entire mind, and you couldn't feel anything but sorry for her.
At the same time, you had a terrible feeling that Nami was finally making good on her promise to leave them behind, just like she'd said she'd do the moment they'd met, so it shouldn't have been so surprising.
Don't trust me. She said.
Not to mention, I'm not a pirate, I hate pirates!
I'm not joining your crew, she always insisted, before adding, but I guess we can work together for now...
And though Nami said all those things, only Mr. Roronoa ever seemed suspicious of this spunky red-headed beta. Captain didn't even blink at those remarks, laughing them off like he did most things. Betas were the most loyal, and Ms. Nami seemed so alone when they met. She didn't smell of a pack, or like anywhere really. It was kind of sad.
You remembered how she actually lived with them, despite all she said. The genuine laughs and smiles, the concern she had for them all, how—even when she complained—she always ended up helping the rest of them. She put herself into real danger when they fought, and directed them through the waves with a dedicated firmness...
Based on that alone you were sure that Nami didn't want to hate Luffy, or Usopp, or you, or even Zoro, though they didn't always get along.
Nami was your good friend now, you'd survived together. It was because of Nami they even had the Going Merry to call their own. You remembered the look in her eye as she heard of Kaya's illness. Not even for a moment did Nami want to take advantage of some sickly woman she didn't know, even if she was rich. Her mouth might have been sharp sometimes, but her heart was pure and good. So even though she said she would leave, you, like Luffy, hadn't really believed her.
But now she clearly made good on her word. Nami was leaving the crew, and taking everything of value they had with her. It was a troubling betrayal indeed.
Nami got up half way through your distant thoughts and manned the ship exceptionally well by herself, you got up and watched her, wondering what it was you could do now to turn this situation around. All you could think to do was watch, and look out for Ms. Nami even if Nami couldn't see you to save her own life.
So, you headed up to the crow's nest to look out for signs of the rest of the crew or land where you'd be out of the way (but hopefully seeing signs of the rest of the crew following, though you never did).
The ship was moving incredibly fast, the fastest you'd ever seen. And before the sun was even indicating it was mid-afternoon you spotted an island. Nami did too, and the boat skirted that way with a precision of a woman who'd done something like this before.
You put your telescope down and chewed your lip. This place, wherever it was, wasn't very far from Baratie at least. But you wondered if the rest of the crew had any idea that they were here of all the places in the ocean...
Two months ago, the idea of being stranded on some unknown island wouldn't have bothered you too much.
You were used to making it on your own, in unfamiliar places, being over looked and living under others without them even knowing. But there was a deep pain in your heart imagining a world where you wouldn't hear Captain yelling every other second, and rushing to see what excited him, or helping Usopp with his tinkering, or planning routes with Nami.
The phantom of heartbreak made your eyes prick with tears, for you didn't want to lose a single one of those people you'd gained over the last few weeks, let alone all of them. Not even Nami.
But what if they never came, what if... and it hurt her deeply to consider this... what if you never got to see him again.
The one. Tall, green hair and a little brooding, with a chip on his shoulder that seemed to keep him at a distance from everyone. And yet you could still scent him on your skin, on your cheek when you'd been unable to control yourself and marked him.
How embarrassing. You were lucky he didn't push you off.
Mr. Roronoa was something you hadn't expected to meet. He lit a fire in you. Not like how Luffy did, though you loved Luffy like a kindred spirit. Luffy felt like a home you'd never known, and he was so playful.
But Zoro made you feel off guard, almost uncomfortable in a way you didn't know what to do with. It made you feel on edge and soft, like you could just fold over for him. Better yet, unfold for him.
Two months keeping him at a careful distance, that was what you kept him at while you unraveled these feelings. And he was always respectfully doing the same. You weren't even sure if he liked you in any intent way. He kept you at arm's length, treating you like a sister, doing what good alphas did for pups—making sure they eat, gentle scenting so they feel secure, rubbing elbows, and always keeping an eye out for you.
You figured Zoro thought you were so weak you needed to be handled like you were made of glass instead of paper. You figured he was watching to make sure you didn't hurt yourself, or rip in half. Or run off like it was now clear Ms. Nami was doing.
Yet, he only did it when he thought you weren't paying attention.
However, you had lived a life unseen for so long, you were always keenly aware of when you were being observed. But when it was Zoro doing the looking, you actually kind of liked being seen. And now there was a chance he would never look your way again!
It was a miserable reality, the hind of you howled for him desperately, an omega keening unlike any you'd felt before—and maybe it would have just been better to say it than hide in shyness, yet you couldn't bring yourself to be forthright.
But now! What if you never saw you again? What if you never got to rub elbows or write down his stories? Never got to see him win? Get to see him become great?
They cyclical thoughts were driving you crazy.
What if you didn't get to see Usopp get brave? What if you never saw Luffy again? Never got to see him be as great as he dreamed of being? Never heard him snicker or get into trouble? Or get pulled along into his adventures?
As you watched the island come closer, you go totally still. Nami was readying sail and slowing the boat down and you took a deep breath and thought hard.
Did you really trust Luffy completely? Had you put all your faith in him as Captain?
Of course!
If you were still with them at the Baratie when the crew found out the ship missing, what would you witness them do? Well, the answer seemed obvious—they would do anything to get it back, probably putting themselves in serious harm to do so. And that was just if the ship was missing.
They were coming, and they would find a way to find you too.
After that, you didn't have to overthink it. Luffy would be coming after them sooner rather than later. That much was a certainty. And if you were wrong and Luffy never came, than you would just have to navigate reality as you had before him. Before... all of them.
It was as simple as that.
Not so long later Nami drove the ship passed a tall pagoda building, the words Arlong Park painted on the white stucco in the same shinning red color as the tiles.
It was an imposing looking place, towering over the rural island, mostly peppered with jungle and rice fields. Nami waved at a fishman standing guard along a dock, and they waved back and sailed past the main building, taking the boat to a smaller dock that extended out from an open field which separated the ocean from a quaint town.
Nami tied up the Merry and then left, leaving you alone. It wouldn't be good to leave the boat unattended, so you stayed and decided to keep yourself busy. The first task was to make a cup of tea, and when that was poured, you sat at the dining table with the Log and got to writing.
A pair of fishmen came to look around the helm's room eventually, going through the cupboards and utterly ignoring her. They both soon were leaving to the cargo hold where the more valuable of their things were. You continued writing and then as an aside wrote a note to re-evaluate the supplies,= happy you'd just done a look through so the tally of the losses would be accurate. Though, you added, hopefully the rest of the crew would arrive soon and they'd recoup whatever was stolen and then some.
You'd just placed a period on that sentence when the sound of Johnny's voice cut through the air with a sharp kind of hollering baritone only men like him were capable of—but your concern spiked the moment that voice cut off before it could finish forming your name. You quickly got up and ran to the port window.
Usopp and Johnny were on the boat, trying their damndest to look as disinterested as possible in the Merry and everything else. But your heart skipped a beat when you looked past them and saw Zoro there. And you hadn't even had to wait that long! But just as quickly, your heart sank.
He looked terrible.
There was messily wrapped gauze across his chest, and it was already stained dark, needing changing. He was pallid too, and obviously sweating—he probably had a fever. And you couldn't help but wonder what on this blue earth could have happened to him in the few short hours they'd all been separated.
Usopp and Johnny's act was only more suspicious to the lazy fishman who'd just finished casing the ship. So, they hopped into the water, and the two fools standing at the railing jumped in, and swam away from the boat. There was no way for you to hop from the Merry to Johnny and Yosaku's boat lest you fall in the water where you'd surely sink and die a horrible death.
And after a short fashion the fishmen took Zoro away in the direction of Arlong Park.
You were frozen there for a second, but you shook off these feelings—the mix of apprehension and happiness of seeing them again wouldn't help you right now. You had to be focused on getting everyone back together. Feeling better about leaving the Merry behind, you disembark and head to shore; your direction was certain—you needed to get to Arlong Park and fast.
Getting to Arlong Park by land ended up being more complicated than you had anticipated, and for a rare occurrence in your life you were very, very lost. The signage in the whole area seemed to be upside and backwards, leading you back to the small Cocoyashi village several times, and finally you huffed, giving up on taking the roads and walking along the coast line.
No longer than a half hour after that, you saw Arlong Park rise up over the trees and knew you were headed in the right direction as the tall stucco walls towered into view, but little did you know that Zoro had long since left the courtyard and Arlong returned from his belligerent rampage on the other side of the island.
Usopp was in the courtyard now and Johnny, who'd climbed half way up the wall to look through a small window, was watching the scene. You decided to climb to the top too, perching on the edge of the fence like a bird, your knees tucked under your cape and your eyes opened wide. Usopp, trying his best to hide his shaking knees, was facing off against Arlong and Nami.
You had unfortunately missed most of the context of the disagreement, but you noticed right away that Usopp looked terribly upset as did Ms. Nami.
A fight broke out between Usopp and Nami, and Usopp threw one of his smoke bombs, making Johnny gasp. But when the smoke cleared, Nami was next to Usopp, a knife hilt in her hand and... this time it was you that gasped.
It appeared as if Ms. Nami had just stabbed Mr. Usopp right in the stomach! Usopp's eyes were wide with pain and he looked near in tears. A bright red stain colored his shirt and then Usopp fell backwards into the water with a heavy splash of a limp body.
Johnny was shocked to silence. He reeled away from the wall, walking right past you like you didn't exist. Real true tears poured down his face as he wept for Usopp in a genuine display of grief that stirred your heart. But before you could get down from the top of the fence touch his shoulder or try and console him, he ran off westward, telling himself a little too loudly that he needed to find Zoro and tell him the news.
Zoro and west log in your mind before you turn back to the aftermath of the scene at hand. The Arlong pirates are gathered around Nami. They look upset about something—maybe the unconscious members of their crew still scattered around.
You can't help but think Zoro had something to do with that.
X...X...X
a/n: The first chapter in poor Owleye's POV! Also!! All the way up to the first chapter of the next book is up on my Patreon (and this story is completely free over there BTW).
I find her absolute bone-headedness hilarious. There are more of these to come, though only every so often. I'm absolutely addicted to Zoro's brooding, much too much to let the narrative shift from his eyes too often. There just needs to be some break, one for contrast, and two so that I can actually include other parts of the plot that Zoro is not in (or exclude ones that he is in that I don't like) especially later on.
Anyway enough rambling, I hope you enjoyed, my self indulgent friend. Until next week!
With love,
Bede
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Like my work and want more? If you like this, I promise you'll like my books.
You can also find all my available stories by supporting me on Patreon or Ream get early access to new stuff and enjoy my entire catalog! Or if you'd rather leave a tip I'd be so grateful if you bought me a coffee. Hey, even reach out to order commissions! My asks are also open, so don't by shy!
This wasn’t a normal dating sim game, no of course not. There wasn’t just a cast of available men, where the player picked just one and found a path to true love. This was a game about winning the affection of all five of the men in the cast.
Five men. Five! And what strange, intense men they were and she especially because she dreaded her fate, if she actually crossed paths with the main suitors living in the body of Anemone.
Then again, how many times had Porsha imagined that she might be the main character? Held down by the tonnage of an impossible monsters, one who took all his rage on her own body. Who threatened lowly in a gravelly voice that he’d make sure you never forget the shape of him inside you. That only he was allowed to punish your skin.
That only his claws could take your life.
Will you break us all? He demanded as he took her, and Porsha always thought he said that, as if finally, finally, he cared enough to be pained by the thought of Rose’s death. A confession of love in his own, harsh way.
It was haunting. It was horrifying.
It was so...
hot!
Suddenly there was only one thing that seemed to matter in the world, as she looked into the mirror and came to grips with the facts. She needed to get back home. And this was a goal that was more powerful and straightforward than any other she’s had in her whole life.
How would she do it? Well, that was a totally different issue.
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[New chapters every Monday at 5pm EST]
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