nehswritesstuffs

[nehswritesstuffs]

The Fall and Rise of House Corrodia - Part 6

The only reason you're getting this today after a week of double prompt fills is bc this was finished back, like, three months ago, orz. Anyhow, here's a long one for ya.

Part 1 [AO3] - Part 2 [AO3] - Part 3 [AO3] - Part 4 [AO3] - Part 5 [AO3]

Awkward conversations are had and recommendations are given. [5407 words; Third Corazón AU; slowburn LawViola]

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The hot, miserable weather had not yet broken as Viola was sitting in Giolla’s workroom, waiting for her turn to be measured. The older woman was insistent on measuring everyone before each set of outfits she made, which was honestly a good thing considering how it could suck up an entire afternoon. Viola would sit quietly in the air-conditioned workroom, pretending to browse through all of Giolla’s trashy magazines, and instead listen to whatever the other Family members were discussing. Mostly it was inane gossip, though on occasion she caught a good morsel or two. That day, however…

“Why don’t you and Corazón kiss?”

Viola was jolted out of her attempting to listen in on Viola and Sugar by Dellinger’s very direct question. She stared at the child sitting across from her, playing cat’s cradle with Baby 5, and wondered where in the hell it came from.

“What do you mean?” she replied in an attempt to brush it off. “Corazón and I kiss.”

“Yeah, but you don’t really kiss in front of everyone,” Dellinger noted. “How come? Do you not really like each other that much?”

“That’s rude,” Baby 5 frowned. “Couples aren’t all the same about that stuff.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Viola confirmed. “Others have seen Corazón and I kiss, but it’s mostly where there’s not very many people.” She thought about it for a moment, before adding, “He’s shy.”

“I didn’t think Corazón was shy,” Dellinger scowled. “He knows us! People are shy around strangers, right?!”

“Not always,” Viola said. “He’s shy because he knows you… because he doesn’t want others to tease him.”

“They still tease him,” Dellinger said matter-of-factly. “They tease him because you fuck only each other while they get loads of sex from people!”

“Dellinger!” Giolla gasped. “Language!”

“You say worse!” Dellinger replied with all the solemnity of a bratty nine-year-old who did not know what he was truly talking about. Giolla scowled and went back to measuring Sugar and putting cloth swatches next to her skin, smacking the back of the girl’s head when she snickered at Dellinger’s sass. “Besides, it’s true! I heard them tease Corazón just the other day.”

“Did you now?” Viola wondered. Dellinger’s face grew smug—the little shit. “What were they saying?”

“They were saying that you must have him trained very well if he doesn’t sleep around but still won’t kiss you in public… that you have him by the balls.”

“DELLINGER!”

“They said it!” He concentrated on the colorful yarn strung between Baby 5’s fingers and frowned, trying to remember how to continue. “So is it that he’s shy or is it that he’s trained or is it that you have him by…” he glared back at Giolla, “…his area?”

“A relationship’s not healthy if one person has the other by their area,” Viola replied, doing her best to not laugh. She then caught movement out the corner of her eye—Sugar was done and being shooed away and the stool was now free. “Looks like it’s your turn.”

“Oh good!” Dellinger abandoned the couch and ran up to Giolla. When Sugar did not come back to the waiting area and instead left, Viola let out a sigh of relief.

“He’s been like that forever,” Baby 5 noted. “Just ignore him.”

“He’s just a kid,” Viola chuckled, masking her discomfort well. She tried to go back to her fake magazine reading, only to feel Baby 5’s stare not leaving her. “Yes…?”

“Is it nice…?” Baby 5 asked quietly. When Viola tilted her head in confusion, she instead moved to sit next to the older woman on the couch. “Is being with Corazón nice?”

“Out of all the things we could talk about, it’s Corazón?” Viola half-scoffed. “Literally nothing else?”

“Well…” Baby 5 blushed, unsure if she should continue, and leaned in closer to bring her voice down to a whisper. “They wanted to give me to Corazón once we were old enough, but now… you know… that’s out of the question.”

Viola could not stop her eyes from going wide at the admittance. It was relatively easy to read most of the Donquixote Pirates—Baby 5 in particular—and she was honestly horrified by the admission. “Isn’t Corazón more like a brother to you?”

“Yeah, so don’t worry! I’m not upset! I just want to know if he’s nicer to you than he is to me.”

“He’s nice as he can manage,” Viola assured. “He is very private, though. I don’t think he’d appreciate Dellinger asking questions like that.”

“I’m sure.” Baby 5 slumped back into the couch, seemingly lost in thought. “I tease him for the littlest thing and he looks like he wants to murder me.”

“I think that means you shouldn’t tease him,” Viola mentioned. She then had a thought, taking a chance due to how rowdy Dellinger was being with Giolla. “May I ask what you mean by ‘giving you’ to Corazón?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” Baby 5 shrugged. “When Corazón came back to the Family and was made an Executive, I was told that if things went well we’d be married when I turned eighteen, but you two dating stopped that. I’m glad, since he’s not nice to me.”

“Does this mean that you’re going to be… given to someone else?” Viola wondered cautiously. Baby 5 shook her head.

“No—when they first started talking about it, they tried to pair off Gladius and Monet and that didn’t work very well, and Buffalo’s out of the question.” Huh; fair. “Otherwise, everyone’s either too old or too not-interested.”

“Corazón never mentioned any of this.”

“I’m not surprised—we all think it’s dumb,” Baby 5 admitted. The teen frowned as she glanced over at Giolla—still busy. “The Young Master said it was just him thinking about the organization’s future, but now that’s you, right? You’re the one that can have babies with that stupid Corazón…”

Viola could barely believe her ears—what…?! “Corazón and I aren’t planning on having children… not any time soon. We’re too busy for that.”

“Oh, okay; that’s a relief,” Baby 5 said, seemingly quite genuine. “I had to change Dellinger’s diapers, and I don’t wanna do that for another baby for a while.”

“You’re safe for now,” Viola chuckled. She then saw Dellinger scurry away from Giolla—she must have either finished or given up. “Is it your turn or mine now?”

“Mine!” Baby 5 cheered. She went over to Giolla’s station without a fuss, holding extremely still as the older woman measured her for her new dresses.

As Viola sat there, she wondered why she had never heard about such a major thing until now. She wasn’t going to mention all of it to Corazón—not yet—but it was still such an odd series of conversations. If Dellinger noticed how the public affection between her and Corazón was, well, muted from their lack of genuine affection… then what did the others catch? What did they miss? Was it anything that put their lie in danger, or was anything brushed off as them being young? Then there was the whole supposed mess involving Baby 5… the fact she hadn’t heard about it until now was extremely suspicious to say the least.

After patiently waiting for Baby 5 to be sized, along with suffering through her own sizing, Viola decided to make a show of it and went up to the floor where the Hall of Suites sat. Doflamingo and his Executives were just heading into the Hall, only for her to pass them at a brisk pace, deliberately looking as irritated as possible while hooking Corazón’s arm to spin him around

“You. With me. Now.” She kept walking, letting her false paramour catch up to her as she partially ducked around a corner. He did, and when he caught up, she pretended to smack him on the shoulder, the action being more of a shove than anything.

“What was that for?!” He played along well, acting as though the smack genuinely hurt.

“You never told me about you and Baby 5,” she hissed.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘me and Baby 5’?! Who told you what?!”

“Baby 5 told me about what Doflamingo wanted to do with the two of you before I came into the picture,” she replied. She allowed her eyes to flit towards the others for just a moment; they were still there, watching intently to see how things were going to blow up. Corazón groaned and made a show of it—at least he was catching on.

“You know there’s zero between Baby 5 and me,” he said. “Why is this a problem?!”

“It’s a problem for Doflamingo—for us it’s a good reason for us to fake a public argument.”

“Oh. Haven’t done that in a bit, have we?”

“No, we haven’t.” He thought for a moment before pressing his palms together as though begging for her forgiveness. “That little brat is thrilled that we’re not informally engaged anymore. To be honest, so am I.”

“Is everything alright down there?” Doflamingo called out, shit-eating grin plastered on his face. “If you’re all done with your lovers’ quarrel, I’d like to get to business.”

“One moment,” Corazón replied. He then turned back to Viola and whispered. “Hit me.”

“What…?”

“Hit me and make it look real.” At that, she scrunched her face into a scowl and punched his upper arm before turning on her heel and leaving. After fully rounding the corner, she used her Devil Fruit to watch Corazón return to the others, massaging the pain out of his arm as they laughed at him. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but what looked like a few sentences out of Corazón and it seemed that the mockery died immediately, Doflamingo especially going tight-lipped. They went into the Hall of Suites and indeed all sat down, beginning whatever discussion they needed to have in earnest.

None of it sat well with Viola as she went back to her office, going through the paperwork she needed to finish before the end of the week. A nation was not run on gladiator tournaments and dirty money, after all, and someone needed to okay projects that would keep the rest of Dressrosa running smooth as possible. She kept working for a while, completely undisturbed until the door cautiously opened and Corazón poked his head in.

“What is it?” she wondered. He carefully slipped the rest of the way into the room, closing the door behind him. She noticed that he was keeping one arm within his coat, hiding something amongst the feathers. “Were we convincing?”

“Convincing enough that I was ordered by Doflamingo himself to get you flowers as an apology,” he stated. Taking his other arm out of his coat, he revealed that he was holding a small, short ceramic vase that was filled with flowers: a pair of short-cut lavender-colored roses that rested above blue-and-purple violets and wispy hare’s ear. He placed it on the desk next to her pens, with her staring at it for a moment before turning back to him. “I was told I should have been forthcoming about my prior engagement. Scolded, actually.”

“It wasn’t as though you wanted it, let alone would have acted on it,” she replied. He came around to her side of the desk and leaned against it, half-sitting on the edge. “He is correct though, sad as it is to admit: you should warn a girl when she’s about to do you that large of a favor.”

“You haven’t minded so far,” he shrugged.

“True, but you don’t have to be smug about it.”

“Who said I was being smug?” His mouth twitched up in something of a smirk. “I feel accomplished by finding a vase short enough for your little namesakes.”

“Mmmhmm… sure; you ass.”

Corazón didn’t refute that claim, only allowing himself to soak up the satisfaction for a moment before his face became twisted in nerves. “Someone’s coming.”

“Then kiss me,” Viola ordered. He complied, grabbing hold of her chin as he bent down to press their lips together in a kiss. Almost as soon as they connected, the door nearly slammed open, Dellinger’s disgust with the scene immediately known due to the fake retching sound he made.

“Be nice!” Baby 5 ordered. Viola and Corazón parted, turning their attention towards their visitors. “I told you they’re just private about things!”

“Ewww… they were gonna have sex on the desk!” Dellinger squealed. Baby 5 hit him on the back of the head and he ran away laughing about catching them.

“Well, we were here to ask you if you wanted to get ice cream from the kitchens with us, but I guess that’s out of the question now,” Baby 5 huffed. “He’s such a little shit…”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Viola admitted. She put her hand on Corazón’s knee and looked up at him with a sly smile. “Can you please grab some for me? I’m afraid I’m a bit too overtaxed with work today.”

“Of course, carinya,” he replied. He pressed a quick kiss against her lips before plucking one of the roses from the vase and—after shaking the water off the end—tucked it behind her ear. Corazón then took his weight off the desk and walking over towards the door with his face set into something close to his normal scowl. The moment he passed Baby 5, the young woman gave Viola two thumbs up and a goofy grin before following him down the corridor.

Touching the bloom sitting against her hair, Viola smiled to herself and hoped that was hopefully the end of that.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“May I please borrow from your books?”

The question came out of seemingly nowhere as they were returning to their rooms from another Family dinner, this one extra-obnoxious thanks to the bickering that discussion had devolved into, to the point where none of them remembered what they were fighting over anymore. She looked at him from her desk and raised an eyebrow.

“Well, yes, but most of my books are novels,” Viola mentioned. Corazón was next to her bookshelf, shuffling his feet awkwardly. “I thought you prefer your fiction to be comics.”

“I read regular fiction… just… not as much the past few years.” He didn’t make eye contact and she could see blush creep up his neck—why was he embarrassed? “May I?”

“Well, what sort of stories are you interested in?” she asked, getting up and joining him at the shelves. “I have fantasy, mystery, science fiction, romance…”

“Yes!” he said abruptly. He winced as he realized it was a bit louder than intended and looked like he wanted to hide as he repeated, softer, “Romance. Please.”

“Didn’t take you for a bodice-ripper kind of guy,” she joked. He stood there without saying anything and it set off a signal in the back of her brain. “Why do you want to read romance?”

“Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Why would I laugh?”

Corazón swallowed hard and gathered his words, looking a lot like a nervous kid in that moment. “I want to read about sex. I know the mechanics, but that’s medicine. Science. Different. The other Executives have been making jokes, expecting me to join in. I’ve been doing my best to dodge it for a while now, but…”

Ah… no wonder…

“…but because you’ve never given yourself to someone like that, a novel would be your closest source,” she realized. He nodded. “You know… you can just go and find a brothel while out on a mission. First-hand experience is a much more reliable source.”

“I… I can’t…” he choked out. “I know enough to be aware that a couple times with a prostitute won’t cut it. I need more than that…”

“…because they think we’ve had more than a handful of times to practice,” she finished. He nodded again—she was spot-on.

“You’ve… got experience with others. Which of these books come close to that?”

“All of these are some form of idealized because they are made-up stories,” Viola warned, “but if you want something that is closer than the others, then I’d start with these.” She plucked a few novels off the shelf and placed them in his hands. “This one is an older widow accidentally falling in love with his young son’s teacher, this one is a Mermaid and a Human woman running off together, this one is about a pair of gladiators whose matches become foreplay, and this one,” it was the last book in the stack, “is a pair of pirates who are the only survivors of a shipwreck. He doesn’t realize his crewmate’s a woman until they start getting handsy.”

“…and these will show me… how sex works in practice…?”

“More or less. I think part of what you specifically need is variety, which these give, even if the way the relationships pan out aren’t all positive. If you want more like these, I can recommend more from my collection, or we can dust off Scarlett’s books—she had an excellent library far as this was concerned.”

“She did…?”

“That she did.” She could feel the awkwardness radiating off him in waves; it must have taken him days to work up the courage to ask her. “You know, you could always ask me how it is being with someone that way.”

“That’s for you and them,” he blushed. “I shouldn’t have to hear about your private life. It’s still surprising that you’re a princess and yet…”

“Princess or not, I am Dressrosan, and my people treat that differently than those in the frigid North,” she chuckled, patting Corazón on the arm. “Growing up Dressrosan means frank sex education before one’s teens, and culturally we don’t have many taboos about discussing or having sex. It’s part of why many visitors think of us as sluts or loose-moraled before they learn otherwise.”

“…but I’ve seen your public health reports—the rate of teen pregnancy is very low.”

“How do you think they know how to achieve that?” He stared at her, only for her to throw a teasing wink at him. “Trust me: we have plenty of tricks, and when that fails, tonics fill that need.” He didn’t seem to know what to say, so she decided to take pity on him. “Listen: you just pick one of those and start reading. I’m going back to my letter.”

“How is Eloisander? Are they all well?”

“I’m actually writing Opheliam—his opinions on things are rather refreshing. It’s a shame we can’t poach him for our own purposes.” She took Opheliam’s letter from her desk and glanced it over again—her Prodentian ally enjoying his role making the rest of court uncomfortable with his presence. “I almost want to offer for him to come here to have his baby, but he’s insistent on going to the countryside in Prodence where he claims it’s quieter.”

“I didn’t know he is transgender,” Corazón replied. He sat down on one of their couches and picked the shortest of the novels. “It’s probably best he stays in Prodence anyhow—I wouldn’t trust anyone here aside from you and a few servants with that.”

“If his letter’s correct, they don’t even trust court—according to them he just needs to lose a little weight, not secretly birth a cadet branch.”

“Do you have anyone like that?” Viola glanced over and saw Corazón furrowing his brow as he flipped through the novel, likely to find the pertinent bits. “You know… a cadet branch somewhere? I’ve not heard anything of it, so I imagine it’d be as much a secret as Prodence’s.”

“We used to, but that line died out several generations ago; most Riku monarchs only had one child to prevent infighting, meaning the only other remaining people with Riku blood are, funnily enough, Elizabello and his sons.”

“Makes for interesting politics.”

“Not really; if I have my dates right, then that union is older than when the Germa Empire was the entire North Blue. That was more than a couple centuries ago, correct?”

“Correct,” he confirmed. Corazón then looked up from his book, hesitating for a moment before continuing. “What do you know about the North Blue?”

“Not much,” Viola replied. “Mostly what I’ve been able to pick up from a broad-topic history book and listening in on your conversations. Why?”

“Then you might like Sora,” he said. She watched as he put the book down and went to grab a well-worn volume off one of his shelving units, bringing it over to her at her desk. “It’s about a Marine and his friend in the North Blue fighting Germa, but he’s not at all like a Marine.”

“…and how is that?”

“He actually helps people, and doesn’t do things by protocol. There’s a character in there recently who bears a passing resemblance to Doflamingo and Sora just, well, defeats him. No fearing his blood or underworld connections or anything—he takes him out because he’s bad and it’s the right thing to do.”

“Sounds like a good-against-evil children’s story,” she said, taking the book from his hand. It was clearly well-loved—the cover edges were soft and the whole volume rather bendy—and something he had carried with him from before, as it was written in the Northern language. If the people who feared him knew what she knew, his reputation would be ruined.

“It seems like that on the surface, but it’s not,” he insisted. “I can get you a copy in a different language if you want…”

“No, I think I’ll use this to practice reading Northern,” she said. She waited as he stood there expectantly, waiting for her to open the book. When she put it down and went back to her letter, he panicked and returned to the couch where his book was waiting for him. Opening the book, he blushed at the contents, having landed directly on a rather intense page. It was almost cute, in a way, how he acted about something as simple as a comic book and she wondered what other surprises he held.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

A couple weeks after the meeting about the Tontatta, Viola was approached by a servant with a message for her to meet Corazón in the planning office. She put away her letter and went immediately, heading to the room in the office wing where there was a large scale model of the island that her father had used to coordinate building projects. Corazón was there along with Pica, the former writing on a paper attached to a clipboard while the latter simply stood there.

“She’s here,” Pica said. Corazón glanced up and his eyes seemed to brighten at her presence—she was no doubt a better conversation partner anyhow.

“What did you need me for?” she wondered.

“Pica is about to do some reconnaissance work and we need to know what you think first,” Corazón said. He used the end of his pencil to point out a block of the city that was marked off with colored tape. “This is the area that Doflamingo wants us to use for the factory the Tontatta shall work in to grow those Northern apples we discussed.”

“Is it now?” she wondered. She bent over the model slightly and took note of where the section was. “I know that barrio…”

“Is it a good place for the factory?” Pica asked. “Doffy wants to know.”

“It’s good enough if you relocate the people there,” she replied. “If I remember correctly, that housing stock is in poor shape—it’ll be good to get people out of there and into something safer, regardless.”

“Good.” Pica then melted into the floor and vanished, presumably off to do his portion of the job. Viola then looked at Corazón and frowned.

“What…?” he asked.

“Doflamingo isn’t usually in the business of slum-clearing,” she noted. He did not answer. “Where is the new housing going to be located?”

“There is no new housing.”

“…but we have to relocate them, and properly,” she reminded him. “If we just turn them out, that wouldn’t exactly be a good thing.”

“Whether I agree with you or not is far from the issue here and you know it,” he replied almost absentmindedly. “You are no longer officially princeseta and the man who holds power doesn’t give a flying shit like any other Celestial. Us simply giving the residents warning is going to be the closest thing we can get to mercy.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” She watched as he kept writing on the clipboard and her blood began to boil over. If his cooperation wasn’t so important to her, then instead of placing her hand on his forearm, she would have ripped the papers directly out of his hand. “We can’t put all these people out on the street. If this was the only place that they can go before, where would they go otherwise?”

“You know he will come down on you,” he warned in exasperation. “Then what will happen to your plans?”

“Thing is, Corazón, that you miscalculated something very important,” she fired back. “I will always be these people’s princeseta, and that means I will always care about what happens to them.” His eyes were tired as they met hers and she knew that he could not match their intensity. “Put in your report that you calculate we need to relocate those citizens in public housing first or else he will only invoke discord. His public approval will skyrocket.”

“He won’t care and just dispatch Sugar, you know that,” Corazón sighed. “If we give them time to vacate, then at least the children will be left elsewhere when the protests begin.”

Oh… Viola felt like he had just punched her in the gut. Doflamingo had either condemned children to a life as Toys or a life as street orphans, with little they could do to prevent it. Her chest felt tight as she grabbed onto the back of a chair in an attempt to steady herself. She knew that many of the Toys had once been criminals in Doflamingo’s eyes, but the idea that some of them could have been children?! The very thought made her want to be sick. She was so horrified by the prospect that she didn’t resist when Corazón put the clipboard down atop the model palace and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, ultimately being what kept her upright.

“The best we can ever do is mitigate,” he murmured. She shivered and clutched his coat, the feathers soft and comforting as he stroked her upper back. “I don’t know how many times Sugar has turned normal people into Toys, but I know it has happened. Their parents have done nothing to wrong Doflamingo, but the children have done even less. We cannot just let Sugar show up and they flock to her thinking that she’s someone new to play with.”

“They can’t…”

“They would, and you know that as well as I do.” Corazón leaned back slightly and his hands moved to cradle her face, thumbs brushing away her tears. Viola froze at the action—what…? His eyes flit over her face almost contemplatively before bending to press a kiss to her forehead. “Wars are not fought without casualties, no matter how much we want to avoid it.”

“That’s why we make the choice to be better than that!”

“You sound as though you believe it’s even our choice to make.”

“That’s why we’re here… to find the good choices when we can…”

“Except this time the good choice is warning the people in the neighborhood to run before the shit starts to fly. I don’t like it any more than you do.”

“You sure are acting like it,” she spat, taking a step back. “There’s other land you could earmark for this project of his—why don’t you figure it out?!”

“You know exactly why: if it’s not this project, it’s the next, or the next, or the next, until only a fraction of the desireables remain. The fact we have the ability to warn people on this one is a gift he doesn’t mean to repeat often, let alone soon.”

Viola let out a strained groan as she balled her fists and hit them on Corazón’s shoulders in frustration. His fingers curled around her upper arms as she continued to hit him, tears streaming down her face. She eventually gave up, sobbing into his chest as he brought her in close for another hug. He rubbed her back some more and stroked her hair—it wasn’t fair! This wasn’t what they had been working towards all this time! What were they doing if there couldn’t avoid things like this?!

They couldn’t fail… she couldn’t fail… because what is a princess if not an advocate for her people? She hated to think of the possibilities she missed…

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Viola slipped out of the castle later that evening and went to the barrio to warn the residents of Doflamingo’s plan. She found some of the adults talking in hushed whispers and tried to not show her pain when they resisted talking to her at first. While she did not tell them of Sugar—they would never believe her—she was able to tell them they were in danger and how the orders came all the way from Doflamingo, swearing on the sanctity of her sister and mother’s graves.

Things happened quickly after that. Others in the barrio were alerted, children and the elderly woken up, and a mass evacuation was implemented. Most of the adults began to take up arms, while the elders and older children helped get the younger ones to the outskirts of the city. Viola offered to join them in secret, only for the citizens to shove her in a closet for her own safety, thanking their princeseta for the fact she even showed up to begin with.

By the time Viola broke out of the closet it was nearly dawn. She looked around the barrio and saw that she was the only one left. Good—the residents had all been able to escape. What sort of a monster would demolish a barrio that was occupied with only old people and children? Doflamingo, she supposed. If anything, she was embarrassed for getting stuck in a closet somehow. Heading towards the underground port, she hid in the Polar Tang, sleeping in Corazón’s quarters until mid-morning, when Baby 5—of all people—broke into the ship and found her.

“Come on; people are wondering where you are,” she insisted, tugging on the older woman’s arm. She did not move, instead refusing to get out of the bunk. Dressed in an old, soft t-shirt of Corazón’s and a pair of his pajama bottoms, she felt too damn comfortable to be bothered.

“They’ll survive without me,” Viola grumbled, pulling the blanket over her head to protect from the harsh fluorescent overhead light. “It’s not like anyone listens to me anyhow.”

“Oh come on,” Baby 5 groaned. “What’s got you like this?”

“She’s sulking,” Ikkaku said, poking her head into the cabin. “Just leave her; we’ll haul her ass out later.”

“I will haul my own ass out on my time, thank you!” Viola insisted from under the blanket.

“If you say so,” Baby 5 shrugged. It wasn’t going to be her fault the other woman didn’t report in. She left, figuring that she had done her part.

Except, what Baby 5 did not know—and maybe Ikkaku had an inkling of—was that Viola was comforted by the warmth of the bed and how it smelled distinctly of Corazón. She could smell his natural musk and cologne mixing with the laundry detergent in such a calming, inviting way that it made her want to stay there until the guilt of the barrio faded. No meetings, no Family, no anything until it was compounded with her other failings, one indistinguishable from the next.

She woke up in the palace, tucked securely into the bed she shared with Corazón, comfortable and relaxed as the late-morning sun poured into the windows. Figuring it was a little bit of Devil Fruit nonsense that brought her there, she settled in and prayed to whatever would listen to keep those children safe while she figured out a way to free them.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

A/N: I used to work in sales at a florist and let me tell you: one of the things that matters both the most and least at the same time is flower language. Most flower shops don't carry the variety to do conversation bouquets and every meaning is literally fake so it doesn't have to mean anything other than that you got flowers. "My girlfriend's favorite color is yellow but don't yellow roses mean friendship??? That's what Facebook said???" NO MY DUDE IT LITERALLY MEANS YOU CAN GET HER ROSES IN HER FAVORITE COLOR. Availability, aesthetics, pricing, and enjoyment of the flower types themselves should win out over "meanings" every single time. That being said, I can totally imagine the small vase Corazón gave Viola because it has Cool Water variety roses and those are nice (Moody Blues is also a nice lavender rose but I needed to make a choice lol).

ALSO! In case you missed it, big shoutout to @reaperlou2lou, who drew art of this fic! Head on over and give it some love!

[nehswritesstuffs]

One Piece Rare Pair Week 2025 - Part 7 of 7

Someone said it was Rare Pair Week so you know that I, a mod in a Discord server dedicated to exactly that, was on it.

865 words; I was gonna do Mhiawk/Perona for this one, but I couldn’t come up with anything that wasn’t, you know, insanely explicit, and then I was reminded of this ship that I’ve also been feeling feelings about for over two decades like ViviKhoza; I love Skypiea and I can’t wait until it’s relevant again which is going to be SOON oh man I can taste it

Part One [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Two [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Three [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Four [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Five [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Six [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Seven [FFN]/[AO3]

Part Seven: Freedom | Free Day - WyperConis [865 words; G]

It was normal for young women from the tribe to be at the training grounds when the God’s Guards were breaking for lunch. It was sort of a holdover from when they would meet them on after war games, when they would bring boxed lunches they made in order to help a brother or friend or to initiate courting. Laki had been visiting Kamakiri in this manner for a few weeks now, with Wyper content to be left alone to find his own food…

…that was, until a boxed lunch was shoved in his face anyhow.

He glanced up at the person offering the lunch and kept his face steady. It was the Angel Island woman—Conis, if he remembered correctly—who seemed to be giving him a curious look. She held the lunch for him to take, which he did not.

“Aren’t you hungry?” she wondered.

“I can get my own food,” he replied. He glanced over at Kamakiri for a moment, to instead get a glare from Laki. “How do you know I don’t have something coming?”

“Aisa told me,” she said. Oh, the little brat… “You lead the God’s Guard—that’s a lot of work. You need to eat.”

“I’m fine.”

“Take it,” Laki warned. “It’s my box—you can drop it off with me on your way home.”

Without a word, Wyper took the lunch and opened it. Inside was mashed pumpkin, some root vegetables that the Angel Islanders grew, and some fritters he knew was filled with poultry and spices. He stared at it for a moment before looking up at her, recognizing the hesitation on her face.

“Thanks,” he grunted. She squeaked in reply and joined Laki as the other women began to head back to town, Conis’s blonde hair bright amongst them. “…the fuck was that about…?”

“I dunno,” Kamakiri shrugged. “At least it’s food.”

“I guess.” Wyper took a bite of a fritter and nodded—not bad at all.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Don’t you have other things to do?” Wyper huffed. It was the following day and Conis was back with another boxed lunch—this time it was wild rice and more poultry and some cornbread. The suspicious woman was sitting next to him with her own—identical—lunch.

“Am I not allowed to have lunch with you?” she wondered. He tried to seem aloof about it, though it came off as more embarrassed than anything.

“You’re an Angel Islander.”

“…and…?”

“You’re the only one.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“It’s just odd, is all.” He stuffed some food in his mouth to prevent her from asking him another question, hoping it would be enough.

“I thought it was odd that no one brought you anything,” she mentioned. She paused, stabbing some poultry with her fork. “I asked Laki, and she let me come along; she said you don’t tend to eat a lot.”

Damn it… “I would think the other Angel Islanders would talk.”

“…about…?”

“This.”

“…oh.” She ate. “We live with you now instead of against you. It makes sense to join in.”

“Does it?”

“Some of your people now live in cloud houses. It makes sense to join the lunch party.”

“No…? It really doesn’t.”

They kept eating in silence.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was now an entire week since she last brought him lunch. Things had been very much the same for about a month, with her bringing him and unwanted lunch and him eating it because, well, what else was he going to do, but then all of a sudden she stopped. She didn’t even send a lunch with Laki, which would have made sense, but still… something was wrong, and it wasn’t the squelching of his hungry stomach.

“I wonder what’s keeping her,” Braham mumbled as he heard Wyper’s stomach growl. “Did you upset her?”

“She kept assaulting me with food she couldn’t’ve made,” Wyper snapped. “It was weird.”

“I don’t know…” Kamakiri shrugged. “Lads, I think someone’s in denial.”

“Even if he is, his stomach knows how good he had it!”

“Cut it out,” Wyper scowled. He caught some movement out the corner of his eye—it was the young women of the tribe, without Conis’s blonde hair amongst them. “Guess it’s lunch time.”

With that, his friends all went towards the ones bringing them their lunch, the group happy to see their friends and relatives as well as their food. He turned to go back into the training yard and almost bumped directly into Conis, who was holding two lunches.

“Sorry I haven’t been around,” she said. “My dad wasn’t feeling good and I had to mind the house for him.” She held out one of the lunches, a smile on her face. “Truce?”

Wyper took the meal and allowed himself the barest of smiles; at least it wasn’t anything he said. “More food Laki helped you cook?”

“I made it,” she claimed. He opened the lunch and saw corn tortillas, pumpkin spread, spiced meat, and some chopped up veg waiting for him. “How’s it look?”

“Uh… good. Thank you.”

“I’m glad; now let’s eat!”

…and if Wyper was being honest with himself—which, hey, he might have been—it wasn’t half bad.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

A/N: If you've stuck with me this far, thanks for reading! You can find more fics at @oprarepairweek, as well as at their AO3 collection! Unrelated to this event, feel free to also check out the AO3 collection for the OP Rare Pear Discord Server!

[nehswritesstuffs]

One Piece Rare Pair Week 2025 - Pride Edition - Part 7 of 7

Someone said it was Rare Pair Week so you know that I, a mod in a Discord server dedicated to exactly that, was on it.

916 words; I don’t often write teens in relationships now that my teen years are well behind me, but when I saw this one listed in the announcement post it intrigued me bc it has the potential to be very adorable; I have been so far behind I literally wrote this all today T_T

Part One [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Two [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Three [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Four [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Five [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Six [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Seven [FFN]/[AO3]

Day Seven: Freedom | Free Day - RebeccaShirahoshi [916 words; G]

“Meet me in the West Courtyard while the meeting’s going on! We’ll be able to hang out more there!”

That was what the large mermaid had said two hours prior, after their meeting with Miss Vivi and Mister Koby had gone sour thanks to a Celestial Dragon being a sorry excuse for a person. Thanks to that, she had borrowed some clothes from her aunt, swapping out her dress for a frilly, billowy blouse and tight trousers so that she could more easily hold the borrowed sword at her waist. She was worried that it killed their meeting, that the Ryugyu princes would not let their sister out of their sight for more than a second, and that the Reverie would end without them seeing one another again. After a chance to make a real friend… was it ruined…?

Then, poking her head out from around the corner, was Shirahoshi. Wait… was she hiding in a shark?! The teen watched as her friend’s pet wobbled its way over to her side, vomiting the larger princess out with a shudder.

“Thank you, Megalo!” Shirahoshi grinned. The shark whimpered and laid down in the grass as Rebecca ran up to them. “Sorry I’m late, Rebecca! I had a hard time getting around my brothers.”

“Oh, the poor thing,” Rebecca frowned as she pet Megalo. “Couldn’t your brothers come with you?”

“I tried, but they didn’t want to; brothers are mean like that sometimes.”

“Are they?” Rebecca tilted her head curiously. “I don’t have a brother, or a sister.”

“That’s okay—they’re over-protective and don’t let me do anything. Now that I can leave my room they still follow me around everywhere!” Tears formed in her eyes—was this for real…?

“Now that you’re out of your room…?”

“Yeah… some creepy guy was trying to get to me, but he’s just not my type, so they didn’t have to worry, but they did.”

Not… her… type…? Rebecca wondered if she really thought that would have solved the problem. There was movement over by the courtyard entrance and she palmed the hilt of her sword, tensing. Shirahoshi noticed and went quiet, waiting for whatever it was to pass.

“Sorry—it’s a habit,” Rebecca explained. “I used to fight in a gladiator arena and I was ready in case it was that moron coming back.”

“Oh no, it’s okay! I think my father and brothers will be glad I was with someone who was armed anyhow.” Shirahoshi petted Megalo, the shark still whimpering in pain. “Are those more comfortable clothes, then?”

“When I have a sword, yeah,” Rebecca replied, “but I’d prefer the dress I was wearing before. It’s prettier.”

“I think you look pretty like that,” Shirahoshi said. Two seconds after it was said, she covered her mouth with her hands, her face going bright red. “Oh! I’m sorry!”

“What do you have to be sorry about?” Rebecca wondered. She would admit to herself later on, when they were on the ship back to Dressrosa, that her face had felt hot then, but not now. It was too embarrassing to admit now.

“I dunno…” It looked like Shirahoshi was going to cry again. “I… uh… don’t really interact with other people… let alone other girls…”

“It’s okay! I didn’t really get along with a lot of other girls either. It was a lot of old men in the arena.”

“Yeah… almost all the people I talked to for a long time was just guys. They were nice, but it was still lonely.”

“I know what you mean.” Rebecca frowned as she remembered how nice some of the other gladiators were, yet at the same time they kept her at arm’s length because… well… a lot of reasons. It made her sad to think about it, but at the same time, giving them hope was part of what had kept her going. “I’m just glad that we can be normal for a change.”

“…that we can be free, like Luffy,” Shirahoshi agreed. That got Rebecca to catch herself smiling.

“Yeah… free like Luffy.” She then saw a small group of young men who were approaching them, causing her to rest her hand on the sword pommel and glare at them. They retreated and she giggled to herself. “I have to admit: this is fun.”

“Oh!” Shirahoshi gasped. “Would you like to go see the gardens with me?! I love looking at all the trees you can find on the surface! There’s so many here!”

“Sure,” Rebecca agreed. “It’s just some trees…”

“…but we don’t have things like that on Fishman Island!” Shirahoshi exclaimed as they began to wander towards the gardens. “There’s no trees—not unless it’s the Eve Tree—and our forests are large beds of kelp!”

“Kelp…?” Rebecca tried not to laugh. “I didn’t think there was enough kelp to grow like that.”

“I can show you if you make a visit to Fishman Island someday! It’s a lot of fun, but not as fun as it is on the surface!”

“If you say so.” It was funny watching the mermaid react to everything around her, but Rebecca guessed it made sense. There were also probably no birds on the ocean floor, and the animals were more than likely a lot different. They finally got to the gardens and Shirahoshi marveled over a tree that was smaller than her, not even registering the looks she was getting from passersby.

If this was freedom, then they both would take it.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

A/N: Now that I have explored this ship, they are definitely femme4slightly-less-femme to me and I don’t mind.

If you've stuck with me this far, thanks for reading! You can find more fics at @oprarepairweek, as well as at their AO3 collection! Unrelated to this event, feel free to also check out the AO3 collection for the OP Rare Pear Discord Server!

[nehswritesstuffs]

One Piece Rare Pair Week 2025 - Part 6 of 7

Someone said it was Rare Pair Week so you know that I, a mod in a Discord server dedicated to exactly that, was on it.

1065 words; I tried really hard to avoid reusing characters in a single edition of these prompts but sorry not sorry I got the brainrot and you all are getting Law twice (thrice if you’re also keeping up w/the Pride version of these; ch. 1055 was Date Night for these two you can’t change my mind; I missed LawBin Day on 6/6 so here is penance

Day One [FFN]/[AO3] - Day Two [FFN]/[AO3] - Day Three [FFN]/[AO3] - Day Four [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Five [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Six [FFN]/[AO3]

Day Six: Secrets | Confessions - LawRobin [1065 words; T+]

It was late as Law and Robin were down in the secret chamber underneath Wano, studying its Road Poneglyph. The pair were going over papers compiled of notes that they had made with Sukiyaki’s help—the elderly man had already come back twice with more paper and ink, as well as a snack for them all. He was now sleeping in the kokeshi doll room, having decided it was better to sleep while guarding the chamber’s entrance than to sleep when a sneak-attack would be too late to stop.

“This is honestly incredible,” Law said. He was standing as he looked at a few pages of translations in his hands, hat and coat draped on the hilt of his sword as it leaned against a mossy railing. A pair of reading glasses sat perched on his nose while he read in the low light. “…and you’ve just… known this…?”

“Not this specific information, but how to interpret it, yes,” Robin replied. She was knelt down at the corner of the Poneglyph, finishing off another rubbing as her Devil Fruit helped her hold the giant sheet together with a multitude of hands. “This is what got me my bounty as a child.”

“I believe it.” He compared the notes to a piece of paper that another one of her arms passed him. “The only reason we’re not dead because of this is because we’re in Wano.”

“We’re in Wano and the imperial family has taken a liking to us.”

“That too,” he admitted. Law sat on a stool that Sukiyaki had brought down, his right leg bouncing on the ball of his foot as he continued comparing the pieces. “How many other people know this?”

“Not many,” she admitted. “I can imagine there are little pockets of people here and there who learned from Ohara’s example and don’t advertise their knowledge, so aside from Sukiyaki, myself, and now you… it wouldn’t surprise me if there’s a few hundred people who know this in secret pockets all over the globe—a thousand at-most. Almost everyone I’ve encountered who lives near a Poneglyph are completely ignorant of their secrets.”

“…and let me guess: it’s ‘almost’ because of our current benefactors?”

“Perceptive.” Robin glanced over at Law and smirked at the intensity in which he was studying. It reminded her of a few times she caught him pouring over books with Chopper, both medical professionals glad there was finally someone else to commiserate with. “You pick things up quickly.”

“I have to, given field work is a tricky thing,” he admitted. “There’s not a lot of leeway for researching how to piece together bodies while also managing a gut wound, malnutrition, and intense fatigue… and that’s just one example.”

“Mmm; so you need to catch on quickly and be able to do a variety of things or else your patients will die.”

“Right. I’m not in a clinic somewhere, picking and choosing patients based on how well their issues mesh with my specialization. I’m just impressed you learned how to read this as a child.”

“You learned medical terminology as a child.”

“That’s different.” His face grew hot with blush—she had him there. “Jargon is one thing, being multilingual is another, but this is a dead language… a dead writing system… it’s impressive.”

“Then don’t sell yourself short,” she replied. Robin stood and brushed the dirt from her kimono, watching as her extra hands folded the rubbing paper and dissipated. “A challenge is a challenge.”

“This is a challenge to the world.”

“It’s a challenge to Marie Geoise.” Law looked up to see that Robin was now standing directly in front of him. She ran a hand through his hair, starting from the front and moving back, then down and back until she was cupping his jaw. “This is not idle information—are you willing to stand against them with me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“My crew burned their flag for me and it was treated as more than just a piece of charred cloth. Meanwhile, they don’t know what goes on within Wano. You can still back out and deny any plausible connection to this… you can still say it was only me.”

“Now why would I do that?” he posed. “They know I’ve spent this kind of time with you and I’d get a boost to my bounty from their jealously alone.”

“Good to hear you say that.” She sat down on his lap, causing his leg to stop bouncing as it held her weight. He went to take off his glasses and she stopped him, threading their fingers together as her other arm rested along his shoulders. “You look good like this.”

“N-No I don’t,” he stuttered. He rested the hand still holding papers against her back as he worked his other hand free, shakily taking off the eyeglasses before looking her directly in the eyes. “I’m nothing compared to you.”

“Sure you are.” Robin leaned down and pressed her lips against Law’s, lingering as she broke the kiss. “Do you need to be taught that as well?”

“You already said I’m a good student.” His voice cracked slightly as he tried to quickly think ahead to how he thought this night might go, the front of his jeans feeling tighter with each possibility. The corner of his mouth twisted up in a smirk, daring her as he decided it was worth the risk to shoot his shot. “I’m ready for the final exam.”

“I don’t know about that,” she hummed before kissing him again. “I think you need some more practice… remedial by the looks of it.”

“Good thing I’ve never gotten a low mark in my life.” Law passed the papers and eyeglasses to extra pairs of Robin’s hands, which freed up his own to reach up and cradle her face before pulling her into another kiss, this one warming them both from the inside out. He felt her fingers grip his shoulder, thread through his hair, hold him from falling off the stool, feel his arms and legs and chest. She moved to straddle his lap and he moaned; damn it felt good, making out while he was hard and she was warm and it made their heads spin.

For all they cared, their benefactor could keep sleeping in the kokeshi doll room—they had better things to do for the time being.

[nehswritesstuffs]

One Piece Rare Pair Week 2025 - Pride Edition - Part 6 of 7

Someone said it was Rare Pair Week so you know that I, a mod in a Discord server dedicated to exactly that, was on it.

649 words; takes place in some nebulous canon divergence AU where Reiju runs from Germa as an adult shortly after WCI; one thing I headcanon is that Bell-mère did in fact hit on women in front of her daughters and was a smooth operator, so Nojicakes clearly learned from the best

Part One [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Two [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Three [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Four [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Five [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Six [FFN]/[AO3]

Day Six: Secrets | Confessions - NojikoReiju [649 words; T]

Crickets chirped happily, filling the twilight with noise on the otherwise quiet evening. Reiju sat on the porch swing with her eyes closed and head resting on the back. It was weird to hear crickets, to feel a warm breeze, to smell tangerines on the air…

“It’s about time you look relaxed.” She opened her eyes and glanced over at her host—Nojiko had found her washed up on the shore nearly a month prior, sheltering her despite not knowing anything about her. A mug of hot tea was passed into her hands, the fragrant liquid calming her by smell alone.

“Thank you,” Reiju said, accepting the drink. Nojiko had brought out her own as well, sitting down on the other end of the bench. “You have been kind.”

“It’s what decent people do,” Nojiko shrugged. She sat with one leg folded up on the bench while the other dangled off, allowing her to put her free arm across the back as she faced her guest. “You’d do the same for me, wouldn’t you?”

“It wouldn’t be my choice.” Reiju drank some of her tea and savored the naturally-sweet flavor. “I know you’ve figured out I’m running.”

“We all are, from or to something. It’s nothing odd.” Looking at the virtual stranger wearing her clothes, Nojiko tried to read her expression or lack thereof. “A lot of people come through here like that. My sister left with people who were running.” A pause. “I almost ran.”

“…from what?”

“It wasn’t always this peaceful,” Nojiko admitted. “Some assholes from the Grand Line were in charge for a bit—it wasn’t pleasant, to say the least.”

“I…” Reiju hesitated. “I’m running from someone worse than Grand Line thugs.”

“Who would that be?”

“…my father.” Silence. “My brothers. My mother’s ghost.”

“Funny—my mother’s ghost is part of what grounds me.”

“Is it?”

“Well… yeah. My sister doesn’t come around often anymore, so she doesn’t need a home base as desperately as she did when we were growing up, which means that I get to figure out what else keeps me here. Some of it’s our mom, but most of it is me.” She watched her guest sip at her tea in silence. “I guess it’s more a luxury than I thought, hm?”

“Is it that obvious?”

Nojiko scoffed in laughter. “I know you must think you’ve got that stoic act down, but you don’t fool me.” Reiju stared at her, unsure how to respond. “My sister thought she was hiding her feelings too, but the only people the two of you would fool either don’t have emotions or have the emotional intelligence of a rock. Which is it?”

“…both.” That got a snort of a laugh out of Nojiko, which made Reiju wrinkle her nose. “What…?”

“Nothing…” It was clearly a lie, but Reiju decided to not call her out on it. She was under the graces of her hospitality, after all. Nojiko placed her drink down on the porch and moved herself into her guest’s space. “I was just thinking how nice you look in my clothes.”

“Then that is the price?” Reiju wondered. Nojiko’s expression fell.

“Price…? There’s no price; you could get up and walk off and I never see you again. Whatever it is you think you owe, you already paid.”

“Paid in what, might I ask?”

“Being one of the prettiest people I’ve ever seen.” She leaned in closer, so close their noses almost touched. “Is it not enough to say that I cared for an angel?”

“An angel of death,” Reiju noted. She closed the gap between them, which made Nojiko inhale sharply in anticipation as their lips pressed together. “You can’t possibly want someone like me.”

“I’ll take my chances,” Nojiko smirked. “A better question: do you want someone like me…?”

She hesitated before allowing herself a faint smile. “I would like nothing more.”

[nehswritesstuffs]

One Piece Rare Pair Week 2025 - Part 5 of 7

Someone said it was Rare Pair Week so you know that I, a mod in a Discord server dedicated to exactly that, was on it.

903 words; I hate the soulmates concept in fic and so they’re both being filled using the Tragedy prompt; I’ve been feeling feelings about these two for literal decades

Day One [FFN]/[AO3] - Day Two [FFN]/[AO3] - Day Three [FFN]/[AO3] - Day Four [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Five [FFN]/[AO3]

Day Five: Soulmate | Tragedy - ViviKhoza [903 words; T]

Khoza’s stomach churned as he looked at the morning paper, freshly brought by the News Coo. On it was a photograph of his sovereign king, dead with his killer standing over him. He didn’t know what to say—the idea itself was too shocking.

“How appalling!” Igaram gasped. They were gathered with a collection of other ministers and high-ranking servants in the royal household, everyone having been requested to stick close to the palace in case an emergency happened, and this was an emergency alright. “I can’t believe this happened, and in the Holy Land Marie Geoise of all places!”

“Something always has to happen at the Reverie,” the Finance Minister scowled. “It’s just our luck that it’s our king getting assassinated.” She glanced over at Khoza, who kept on staring at the front page. “Have you heard from the princess?”

“N-No…? I would think she’d contact Igaram!”

“My husband and I haven’t heard a word from Princess Vivi, nor Pell and Chaka,” Terracotta replied. “If they haven’t checked in with any of us, then that means more danger than just this.”

“How in the hell is there even more danger?!” her sous chef marveled. “Our king is dead, the princess or their entourage haven’t checked in… what’s next…?!”

“Be ready to leave,” Khoza said. “Most of us are going to be useless if war breaks out again—if that’s the case, my uncle in Ukkari should be able to give you shelter until everything dies down.”

“Wouldn’t you go?” the Education Minister asked. He shook his head.

“With both Chaka and Pell gone, the ones of us here with the most military experience is Igaram and myself—we cannot leave unless we know it won’t destabilize everything.”

“We should all make sure we are ready to leave at a moment’s notice,” Igaram agreed as he tried to mask his worry, “whether it be for the battlefield or outside the country. Let’s go.”

No one disagreed and they began to disperse, heading to their respective residences either on or off the palace grounds. Khoza went to his room that was just down the corridor from Vivi’s—he had just helped her pack for the Reverie, and now…

No, he had to focus. He had no doubt this time about the royal family and their intentions for Alabasta. Heading into his sparsely-utilized room, he began gathering his scant belongings, only ever bringing a few things with him when the King requested he stay. He knew he should have gone with Vivi as her personal guard; he didn’t and look where that got them. Stupid, stupid, stupid…

Then, just as he was nearly packed, the snail on Khoza’s nightstand began to ring. He stared at it curiously—who in the hell was calling him on that number? Reaching for the snail, he picked up the reciever as he furrowed his brow in concern.

“Hello…?”

“Khoza! It’s you!” It took a couple seconds for the snail to catch up, but that was Vivi’s voice.

“Vivi?! What’s going on! We just saw the papers this morning!”

“There’s a lot I can’t explain right now—I should be able to get two minutes on this without being tapped—but I need to tell you that I’m fine and out of danger. If you see Pell and Chaka, can you please pass that message along?”

“Vivi… you’re the Queen now… you need to come back…”

“Not until I figure some stuff out. It’ll come back to bite us later if I don’t.”

“Vivi!”

“Don’t worry about me, Khoza! I’m travelling with… well, they’re not friends, but I’ll be relatively safe until I can reach people who are friends. I need you and Igaram to hold onto Dressrosa while I’m figuring this out.”

“…but Vivi…” His mouth felt dry as he looked at the snail—at the faint echo of the princess on the creature’s face—and knew whatever answers were she was seeking… they were not pretty. “You’re needed here.”

“I trust in you, Leader,” she replied. The snail winked. “Alabasta’s in good hands with the Sand-Sand Clan!”

“Vivi, you don’t understand!” he panicked. “You need to come home now! I…!”

The snail fell asleep; the call dropped.

“…love you.”

Khoza’s shoulders sank as he stared at the now-sleeping snail. Of all the times he had tried to get it out before, now had to be the time he could actually say it. His hand shook as he put the receiver down, unable to reverse-dial to get her back on the line.

That could have been the last time he heard her voice and he couldn’t even say he told her the truth. How many years and he couldn’t tell her the truth… what he knew now, thanks to the sobering state of adulthood, had been there all along? He hadn’t felt this sick since he was sitting in a dusty tent, looking at maps of Alubarna as he and his generals—friends—tried to figure out the best way to take the city and invade the palace.

Noise from the corridor shook him back to reality. He needed to get it together; Vivi was counting on him. He smacked the sides of his face and grounded himself—there were ministers to evacuate, people to organize, and a country to defend, and Khoza was ready to do it all if that’s what it took.

Anything to bring Vivi back.

[nehswritesstuffs]

One Piece Rare Pair Week 2025 - Pride Edition - Part 5 of 7

Someone said it was Rare Pair Week so you know that I, a mod in a Discord server dedicated to exactly that, was on it.

830 words; I hate the soulmates concept in fic and so they’re both being filled using the Tragedy prompt; I know that I’m putting these two in the Pride version of the prompts but you need to understand that they are not completely cishet to me even though it’s a legitimate way to describe them

Part One [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Two [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Three [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Four [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Five [FFN]/[AO3]

Day Five: Soulmates | Tragedy - Bell-mèreCorazón [830 words; ]

“Come with me.”

Rosinante stared at Bell-mère. Her hand was outstretched in an offer, one that made him shift awkwardly.

“Bell, I can’t,” he said. “Someone has to—”

“Sengoku can do that shit,” she replied, cutting him off. “You don’t have to pay for your brother’s sins.”

“I’m the only way to get close to him and you know that.”

“No, we don’t know that! Come to the East with me; you can leave that life behind you.”

“You don’t know Doffy like I do,” Rosinante replied, exasperated. “He won’t stop at whatever North Blue port he’s holed up in—he will come for the world. The East won’t be safe.”

“Then let’s give him a rude awakening when he does try,” she said. “All I know is that I want you next to me when I get the command of a base.”

“Next to you as what?”

The question sat heavily between them, the only noise being the crickets outside in the training yard. He did not make eye contact despite the fact she was staring him head-on.

“Do you really have to ask?”

It was quiet again—the pair stared at one another, air charging between them. Rosinante went to turn and walk away, only for Bell-mère to reach out and grab him by the hand.

“It’s not your mess,” she insisted. “Sengoku should have cleaned it up when you were kids.”

“It’s never been that simple.”

“Yes, it has.”

“Maybe in your world, Bell, but the world I come from hates simplicity.” He took his hand back and dug in his pockets for his cigarettes and lighter—rules be damned. After lighting one up he saw that Bell-mère had gotten herself a smoke as well; strength in numbers, he supposed. He held in a long drag before letting it all out slowly as he braced himself. “There are rules about this shit, you know. They can get a normal person killed.

“I thought the point of not letting you back in was to say that you’re normal now.”

“They’re full of contradictions and you know it.” He went to the edge of the storehouse’s porch and sat down, his legs still scrunched up thanks to his height. She went over to sit next to him, patting his shoulder before sitting—embers were beginning to catch his uniform shirt.

“Then leave that shit behind; if it doesn’t want you, then you shouldn’t give it the time of day.”

“It will find me, Belle. I can’t escape it. We could be living on a farm in the middle of nowhere and it would find me and burn everything around me to the ground… everything I love. Gone.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Except I do.” Rosinante felt his stomach sink; he hated pushing people away. “You don’t want me by your side in any capacity, because once my hometown catches wind of my happiness they will attempt to beat it into submission.”

“Your own cousins would do that?”

“I’m not their family anymore. They made that clear.”

“Then change your name, come with me, and we can be great no matter what lies they believe are real. Stop living by their rules, Rosi.”

“I’ve tried.”

“Then try harder, for fuck’s sake.” Bell-mère laid down, her legs still dangling from the edge of the porch while she looked up at the inside of the eaves. “I finally found someone who gets me and you gotta go and run off chasing your death.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it?” She waited until he also laid down and they were able to look at one another. “If you’re not chasing your grave, why won’t you come with me?”

“There’s this… rule… where I was born,” he explained, slowly choosing his words. She knew, but who else was listening? “Only someone from a certain class can challenge others of that class. When I say only I can face my brother, I’m not just throwing around words. Not even Sengoku could do something about it.”

“That… sucks.” Bell-mère inhaled another drag and sighed. “Fucking tragic if you ask me.” She waited for Rosinante to respond—he didn’t. “Will you find me? After you’re done?”

“I… I can’t promise that.”

“I’m gonna be in charge of a base in the East and will be out of my mind for a good time; please.”

“Fine.” He held his cigarette between two fingers, holding up the hand between them. She mimicked the movement, the pair hooking their little fingers together as they held their cigarettes aloft. “I’ll come find you, whether you’ve been kicked out of the military or given a dead-end promotion or whatever.”

“Sounds good.” She tilted her head, resting it on his shoulder. “See you then, bronco.”

“Looking forward to it, cowboy.” Rosinante unhooked their fingers and put the cigarette back between his lips. It was something to think about, certainly.

It was too bad neither of them would make it happen.

[nehswritesstuffs]

One Piece Rare Pair Week 2025 - Pride Edition - Part 4 of 7

Someone said it was Rare Pair Week so you know that I, a mod in a Discord server dedicated to exactly that, was on it.

1091 words; takes place while on the way from Punk Hazard to Dressrosa; might do something more with this concept later; rated T for innuendo and language

Part One [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Two [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Three [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Four [FFN]/[AO3]

Day Four: AU | Roleswap - LawSanji [1091 words; T]

The blond’s incredulous laugh almost echoed throughout the otherwise-silent galley, everyone but him and one of their guests awkwardly silent. Well, their captain was still eating, but aside from him it was so quiet that one of Brook’s farts could sound like a trumpet.

“You think you can do a better job than me at cooking?!” Sanji cackled. “Now that I’d like to see!”

“It’s not my fault you’ve got the ratios all wrong,” Law grumbled, trying to play it cool. “You’ve got the palate of a smoker—something has to be off.”

“You are saying you’re better at my job! Ungrateful freeloader…!”

“Not ungrateful; I simply know better.”

“Then if you think you can do so well, be my guest.” Sanji gestured towards the kitchen and Law raised his eyebrows—interesting.

“Uh… Sanji-kun, are you really going to let Traffy cook?” Nami grimaced.

“It’s a stain on his pride as a man,” Franky explained. He shoved more food into his mouth in an effort to keep it from Luffy. “If he doesn’t call Traffy’s bluff, then everything will be super-tense!”

“If Traffy’s allowed to cook, then can I cook too?” Luffy wondered. Nami and Usopp both hit the back of his head from either side; no.

“Fine—you want it to be like that? I’ll bite.” Law stood and made sure his sword was resting firmly against the table and his hat sitting on his chair before heading towards the sink to wash his hands.

“No Devil Fruit,” Sanji stipulated. “Make it with your own skills.”

“Mmhmm—you just want to watch me work with my hands,” Law quipped as he scrubbed under his fingernails. Zoro and Kin’emon both choked on their drinks. “I’ll even do it without ashing in the batter.”

“Ha, ha; I’m watching you.” Sanji then leaned against the wall and folded his arms across his chest, indeed watching the other man as he began to move around in his kitchen.

“Oooh, does this mean more of these delightful things?!” Momonosuke gasped, mouth full of pancake. “It is like what makes dorayaki, but different!”

“This is going to be even more different,” Law claimed. He got out Sanji’s takoyaki pan and set it atop the stove with enough force to make the cook twitch. “This one is going to actually be good.”

“Watch my shit or you’re replacing it, Traffy,” Sanji warned.

“Are we having breakfast takoyaki?!” Luffy gasped in delight. He went to stand, only for Nami to tug on his ear to bring him back down to his seat.

“I’m making real pancakes; now sit down,” Law scowled. The non-Luffy people at the table all exchanged nervous glances, knowing that there was a chance this would not end well.

Flour, eggs, milk, yeast in one bowl, and soon Law was not only using the takoyaki pan to make miniature pancakes that were puffy and light, but he was also making larger thin ones without yeast in a regular pan, flipping them with the aid of a lid that seemed to appear from nowhere. He would slide the pancake done-side down onto the lid, then flipped pan and lid together to get the other side of the pancake going. Eventually, he had a large pile of both kinds of pancakes, bringing them both to the table once the small ones were dusted in powdered sugar and the large ones were sliced into quarters.

“These,” he said, “are pancakes.” The people at the table all took some, surprised at how good they were.

“Oh wow, this is good,” Usopp marveled as he ate one of the slices. “Raisins…?”

“Some are plain, some have raisins, some have apples,” Law replied. Sanji glared at him and he could feel it boring into his back. “Okay, so I cheated a little as a surprise, but the cooking part is genuine.”

“Can Traffy help make breakfast while we’re on the way to Dressrosa?!” Luffy asked. “Sanji, he can help you, right?!”

“Yes, please!” Momonosuke chimed in, mouth stuffed with one of the tiny pancakes. “These are most delicious!”

“Give me some of those,” Sanji grunted. He grabbed a plate and took some from both stacks of Law’s creations. Law leaned against the counter with his arms crossed as Sanji popped one of the miniature ones that came from the takoyaki pan into his mouth, the entire thing going at once.

Oh… there was something about the fluffy dough that made him stop mid-chew and consider what he was eating. Sanji thought about the cooks he grew up around—not Patty and Carne, but the ones from even earlier, who let him sneak into the kitchens and even taught him some basics—and the things they brought from their homes. The recipes… the techniques… the traditions; he quietly ate one of the slices of the larger pancake and knew it was the same kind that used to sit in a stack on one of the counters, waiting for a hungry, busy staff member to walk by and grab a couple slices to hurriedly stuff into their mouth on the go.

There was no way it wasn’t the same. How in the hell was it the same?!

“…and…?” Sanji looked up and saw that Law was staring at him, mouth twitched up in the barest of smugness. Everyone else was looking at him too, but it was only the Warlord who was silently daring him.

“They’re… pretty good,” he lied. They were excellent. “Family recipe?”

“Close as I can manage, anyhow.” Law shrugged and Sanji wanted to smack the surgeon across the mouth. “Surprised you didn’t know.”

Law looked anything but surprised.

“Are you implying something, Trafalgar?”

“If you want.”

“Alright, I’m out,” Zoro said as he abruptly stood. His leaving the galley prompted others to flee with him, taking their food along. Soon, it was only Sanji and Law in the galley, the latter still satisfied from the reaction he was getting out of the former.

“I haven’t tasted pancakes like this in a long time,” Sanji admitted.

“I haven’t heard someone pronounce my name like that in a long time,” Law replied. “Think you could do it again?”

“Help with cleanup and then we’ll talk.”

“Fair.” Law opened a Room and all the dishes began to collect near the sink, making Sanji scoff.

“Good food, now this? You trying to seduce me?”

“Roronoa seems to think so.”

“I didn’t ask about him.”

Law simply shrugged and rolled up his sleeves; he was going to have to figure that out for himself.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

A/N: Listen, I am the asshole who would use a takoyaki pan to make poffertjes and a poffertje pan to make takoyaki. I also need to figure out pannenkoeken like I grew up with because crepes are good but they’re just not the same, you know?

[nehswritesstuffs]

One Piece Rare Pair Week 2025 - Part 4 of 7

Someone said it was Rare Pair Week so you know that I, a mod in a Discord server dedicated to exactly that, was on it.

1035 words; these two are the same age do not take this from me; I operate under the delusion that Robin and Luffy are paternal half-siblings until Oda says otherwise no I will never get out of this chair; takes place both in ch. 1066 and the timeskip; I very much did not proofread this one so apologies if anything’s especially bad

Day One [FFN]/[AO3] - Day Two [FFN]/[AO3] - Day Three [FFN]/[AO3] - Day Four [FFN]/[AO3]

Day Four: AU | Roleswap - DragonOlvia [1035 words; T]

Dragon stood next to Vegapunk, watching as the New Giant Pirates took care of the books from the library. He scowled as the other man’s brain went miles a minute; there was much more than an acquaintanceship with Clover that had brought him here, and he was not going to let the scientist know. Then again, would he even understand such a bond between people? That scientific mind probably couldn’t care less…

Suddenly, Dragon caught movement out the corner of his eye. There wasn’t supposed to be anything alive on Ohara except them and the giants—he palmed his gun and shifted, readying to fire. If the only thing protecting the smartest brain in the world, even if it was an opportunistic one, was him then at least he would go down swinging.

Whatever it was in the rubble moved and Dragon did as well, drawing his gun and getting between Vegapunk and the stranger. He almost fired, the only thing that kept him from doing so being a sobering realization wash over him that… oh seas… he recognized her…

“Olvia…?”

She collapsed in the dirt, which brought both men to rush to her side. She had extensive burns and her clothes were ragged—somehow, she had clung to life against the odds.

“I’ll get the medkit from my ship,” Vegapunk said before running off. Dragon put his cape on the ground and laid Olvia atop it, bunching up one end to keep her head elevated. She tried to say something and he stopped her.

“Shh… it’ll be okay,” he promised. “I’ll get you out of here and we can go somewhere safe.”

“…but Robin…” she whispered. “Where’s Robin…? Did Saul get her out…?”

“Robin…?” Dragon’s heart skipped a beat. “Robin was here?!”

“We need to find her—she’s a scholar now. She’s in danger.”

“Clover, you bastard,” he cursed. “He promised she wouldn’t…!”

“She’s our daughter; do you think she’d lack curiosity?” Olvia saw Vegapunk returning with the medkit as she began to float out of consciousness. “Find her… please…”

“You’ll make it,” Dragon replied, his voice cracking. “You have to make it…!”

“Who is she?” Vegapunk wondered as he came within earshot. He knelt down in the dirt on the other side of Olvia and opened the medkit, bringing out some funny-looking things Dragon knew was the direct result of the scientist’s recent research. “Is she one of the scholars?”

Dragon hesitated for a moment before saying, “She’s one of Clover’s proteges—if she dies, then the legacy he built is gone.”

“Then let’s get her out of danger before moving her back to the ship. He injected her with something that made her groan. “How do you know her?”

What a loaded question; Dragon trusted Vegapunk little and his employers less with such information. He couldn’t tell him that she was the father of his child—that news of her supposed death had nearly broken him—that he was going to ramp up his activities thanks to the Olvia-shaped hole there had been in his heart when he landed that morning. It was now just Ohara that was going to fuel him… Ohara and the pain he felt thinking she was not there.

“Worked with her as a favor to Old Man Clover.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, but it left out plenty of information. Vegapunk made a noise in the affirmative as he found another device in his kit and began to run it over Olvia’s vital organs, checking how severe the damage was. Dragon didn’t care if he didn’t believe him—all he wanted was for her to live. “So what do you think?”

“I think,” Vegapunk said, “that I can work with this.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Years passed and the Revolutionary Army operated exactly how it aimed—building up funds as it struck fear in the hearts and consciousnesses of the ruling classes worldwide. Everyone knew of the three generals, mobilizing the ragtag group of angry dissidents into an organized machine. They found territory, they amassed military might, they greased the wheels of rebellion, all while there was talk of a secret fourth person—a man behind the men, if one would—someone that no one else had seen and even fewer dared to talk about. Who was calling the shots in Baltigo? What purpose did the three generals have if they weren’t the ones in charge? Why were they being pulled by some mysterious force, hidden from the world in clandestine whispers and unconfirmed theories?

Meanwhile, they never, ever stopped searching.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“We’ve been looking for you for a long time,” Dragon said grimly. Robin nodded, considering her answer as they walked through the corridors of the headquarters in Baltigo.

“Can you blame me? I was a child on the run. It taught me to trust no one.”

“No, I don’t blame you; only myself for taking so long to get to you,” he replied. “I have been searching for you since this group was founded. It has been my priority to get you back.”

“‘Back’…?” She raised an eyebrow. “That implies we’ve met.”

“We did, a long time ago,” he admitted. They stopped walking outside a specific door, his expression becoming one of embarrassment. Hmm… the Supreme Leader of the Revolutionary Army? Embarrassed? “There is someone here I think you should meet.”

“…and who might that be?”

He hesitated. “My wife.”

Opening the door, Dragon ushered Robin into an office much like many of the others that lined the corridor in the cold, uninviting building. A woman with short-cropped silver hair and extensive burns covering her face and body sat at a desk, using a cane to stand soon as she saw her company. She hobbled over to Robin, meeting her halfway across the room, her eyes watery and in a state of shock.

“Robin…?” she whispered, touching the newcomer’s face. The younger woman looked into her eyes and began to tear up.

“Mom…?” All the older woman needed to do was smile and Robin latched onto her in a hug, not wanting to let go. They both cried, with Dragon standing there awkwardly until Olvia reached for his hand, pulling him into the hug.

They were finally together.

[nehswritesstuffs]

One Piece Rare Pair Week 2025 - Pride Edition - Part 3 of 7

Someone said it was Rare Pair Week so you know that I, a mod in a Discord server dedicated to exactly that, was on it.

993 words; these two are cute together you can’t convince me otherwise; contains some description of Kiku’s arm wound but it’s not too graphic

Part One [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Two [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Three [FFN]/[AO3]

Day Three: Hurt | Comfort - ZoroKiku [993 words; T]

The joyous chaos of the festival was muffled and distant, reminding the pair that they would soon be missed. It did not matter, however, as there were more important things on their mind… such as a damp, smelly bandage that had accidentally gotten wet after a run-in with a bucket of water while taking in the varied stalls on their way to eat.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to get Chopper?” Zoro asked as he unwrapped the damp bandage. Kiku simply looked away and shook her head.

“This one does not want to bother your physician, as he has already done much for the Akazaya and Wano,” she replied. A soft whimper escaped her as he peeled the bloodied bandage from what remained of her arm—it clearly hurt. “It would impose so.”

“Nah… he wouldn’t mind. It’s Chopper.” Zoro tried not to frown as he worked at cleaning off the scab that cracked with the bandage’s removal. “Looks like you’ve been avoiding him.”

“A samurai knows when to see a physician.”

“As someone who keeps trying to shove off his treatment: that’s a bad idea.” He lifted her arm stump so he could see it better and shrugged. “I won’t tattle, but you should still see him before we go or else he’ll be mad at you.”

“If he does not know, how would he be cross?”

“Beats me; all I know is that he knows.”

Zoro then began to disinfect the wound with the borrowed kit, working silently as he did. Kiku blushed as she felt his fingers against her skin, holding her arm gentler than she would have thought possible. She had seen him in battle and knew what he was capable of; to imagine a man with a reputation amongst the foreigners as a demon on the battlefield with a touch so gentle, and that she was truly fortunate to see the gentler side.

“Are these also the hands of a physician?” she wondered. He looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

“Huh? No—that’s Chopper. Nami and Sanji patched me up before that.”

“…and before them?”

“I did—wasn’t very good at it.” He found an antiseptic and began to put it on the scab. “My buddies I ran with at the time were worse. You’d like them, I think.”

“How so?”

“They were pretty dumb—dumber than me.” Kiku giggled and Zoro scowled. “I mean it—the guys I hung out with before Luffy would have died without me a couple times.”

“Where might they be?”

“Oh, uh…” Zoro had to think about it. “The East Blue, pretty sure. At Nami’s hometown last I heard. They liked it there.”

“The East Blue sounds like a fascinating place.”

“It really wasn’t,” Zoro replied. He then began wrapping the bandages around the end of her arm. “It wasn’t bad… just… kinda meh.”

“It would be interesting paying homage to the resting place of the great blacksmith, Shimotsuki Kozaburo, and the dojo where he made his home. The fact you were raised there is incredible.”

“Even that’s nothing much; didn’t think the old man was anything special until I came here.”

“This one grew up with elders speaking of his craftsmanship—he had no peer while he breathed.”

“I guess, although it’s crazy to think about.” He tied off the bandage and patted it. “Okay, done.”

“Thank you,” Kiku replied softly. She then blushed even harder at the realization that in order for Zoro to have taken care of her, she had to slide her arm out of her kimono, leaving much of herself bare to him. Panicking, she turned before setting herself to rights.

“What’s wrong with you?” Zoro wondered, scratching his head. “Nothin’ I haven’t seen before.”

Oh… that cut her, deep. Nothing he hadn’t seen before…? She did not register the fact she had sighed dejectedly until he was placing his hand on her shoulder.

“One of my swords used to be owned by the most killed student the dojo has ever seen,” he said. She watched as his other hand went towards the swords they had laid on the tatami before changing the bandage, resting on the white-hilted masterpiece. “She was my biggest rival and best friend. We’d do secret training together, thinking we were slick, only for her to get chewed out by her old man because we were both practicing shirtless.”

“Maybe… she had the heart of a man…?”

“Nah,” Zoro chuckled. “She just hated being limited by her family’s views on what a girl could do… what a girl could be; sometimes I even half-believed them.”

“That does not sound like the spirit of Wano.” Kiku thought for a moment. “Mayhaps that is why he and his cohorts risked leaving?”

“I don’t know. Could just be that Oden guy was just who you needed.”

“Possibly.” She watched as he grabbed the bottle of sake he’d been drinking from before everything and took a swig. “This one does not think we have had this long of a conversation since meeting.”

“I know what else we could do if you don’t want to talk,” he replied. The grin that crept across his face made her blush furiously.

“No! This one couldn’t!” She covered her mouth with her hand and looked away in embarrassment, causing him to laugh.

“Relax—I won’t do anything that’ll make Kin’emon want to defend your honor,” he said. “Not unless you want to.”

“We should get back to the festival,” Kiku mumbled. She stood and bowed, not admitting that yes, she wanted that very much, but also knew her place as a samurai of Wano. “Thank you for cleaning my wound, as this one is not used to doing things with one hand yet.”

“It’s fine,” Zoro replied, getting up from his seat. “This thing’s running low anyhow; want to get some more?” He gave the sake container a shake; nearly empty.

That was good. They could do that.

[nehswritesstuffs]

One Piece Rare Pair Week 2025 - Part 3 of 7

Someone said it was Rare Pair Week so you know that I, a mod in a Discord server dedicated to exactly that, was on it.

614 words; I just want Sanji’s real parents to be together okay? Okay; up to the reader as to whether this is a modern AU or a Sora runs w/the kids AU or what’s going on because I left it ambiguous on purpose

Day One [FFN]/[AO3] - Day Two [FFN]/[AO3] - Day Three [FFN]/[AO3]

Day Three: Hurt | Comfort - SoraZeff [614 words, T]

It was late as Zeff trudged into the bedroom, feeling the day’s work hanging off him as he finally saw his bed and the woman sleeping in it. Since their arrangement began, Sora would go to bed early and rise early with the kids, while Zeff would go to bed late and wake up… less early than he usually did. Sure, he was used to getting on with minimal sleep, but he was actually getting a full seven hours in these days compared to the usual four or five, only possible because she got things moving in the morning in his stead.

After a quick shower in the attached bathroom, Zeff did his best to not fall into bed and disturb the other occupant. He was still warm from the water, yet Sora was warmer after being nestled under the bedding for so long. She hummed happily as he reached around and draped an arm over her, keeping her close to his chest as he made the quick trip to Dreamland…

…or he would have if Sora hadn’t started wiggling about in her sleep. Almost as soon as he begun to relax she began to grunt softly as she moved around, tossing and turning fitfully.

“Hey, Sora… what’s wrong?” he asked. She did not answer him, her mumbling just getting louder. “Sora…?”

“Mmm… no…”

“No? No what?”

“No… Judge… you won’t…! No!”

Suddenly, Sora woke up, her eyes snapping all the way open as she sat upright while gasping for air. She felt her face—normal—and stared ahead of her, breathing heavily until she flinched at Zeff’s touch. Seeing it was only him, she squeaked as she laid back down in his open arms, allowing him to hug her and rub her back as she tried not to cry against his chest. They laid like that for a while, soaking in each other’s company.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he eventually asked. She shook her head, hiccuping instead of actually replying. He exhaled heavily—she never talked about it. “Sora… you’ll have to talk about it at some point.”

“You know where I came from,” she muttered.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you never have to say it again.” He kissed the top of her head. “If I ever get a hold of that ex of yours, I’m not only going to rip him a couple new assholes, but I’ll do it with the kids’ help.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate it, but you don’t know him like I do,” she warned. Her whole body shivered and she tried to burrow in closer; the only way to feel safe. “He’s a monster.”

“Then it’s a good thing I know how to take care of things that go bump in the night,” he replied. “Now go back to sleep; I’ve got you.”

She did, slowly relaxing in his arms while he tried to not get angry at a man he never wanted to meet. Once she was asleep, he allowed himself to drift off again as well, knowing at least that his words weren’t hollow—he was definitely ready to kick that sorry excuse for a man to hell and back, then torture him by making the bastard watch as Zeff treated his wife right while all the sprouts called him “Dad”. Was he a bit excessive sometimes? Sure, but he’d rather err on the side of caution than hurt the woman in his arms.

Maybe one day he’d get the chance to knock the socks off the asshole. Until then, he was more than willing to have Sora cuddle into him until she knew she was in good hands even when asleep.

[nehswritesstuffs]

AAAHHHHHHH OH MY GOSH THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! ;A; This is absolutely lovely! I am Bepo hugging you because oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh fan art of fic!!!!!

To find links to the story, you can go here (tumblr) and here (AO3)! It's not on FFN this time bc chapters not yet posted would get me banned so quick ahahaaaaaa.

HEYO GUESS WHO HAS A RARE PAIR SHE’S BEEN OBSESSED WITH FOR A COUPLE MONTHS NOW

ME

I’ll admit Law/Viola (or VioLaw as I’ve dubbed it) wasn’t a ship that seemed that likely to me at first but fuck me these two DO work together actually. Plotting a certain bitch bird’s downfall and falling for each other at the same time <3 we love to see it

Gonna admit, I kinda struggled with Viola’s design specifically. I tried to find a good middle ground between her preDQ coup design and present time one. I think I found a good median, aiming for earlier on in her time with the Family.

And I swear I didn’t mean to finish this right as oprarepair week kicked off but I ain’t looking this gift horse of timing in the mouth. No siree

Also this was mainly inspired by one fic in particular. It’s The Fall and Rise of House Corrodia by Nehszriah. Read it it’s sooooooo good!

@nehswritesstuffs @escapaldi I made fanart of your fic. Hope you like it!

[nehswritesstuffs]

One Piece Rare Pair Week 2025 - Part 2 of 7

Someone said it was Rare Pair Week so you know that I, a mod in a Discord server dedicated to exactly that, was on it.

1148 words; this is the high-quality-low-numbers-content craft artisan ship I am currently molding into shape like a crazed custom furniture maker with an Age of Sail obsession so sorry not sorry you’re all gonna have to deal with it; has some DofViola and DofLaw as well, both of which are bad-touch and one-sided on the Dof end; technically an AU (where Law tackled Dressrosa on his own) but I can run w/the concept of an AU in a lot of things so no worries; might I develop this more later? Dunno, but this is out now; DARK AS HELL, GROSS AS HELL, DO NOT ENGAGE IF YOU GET SQUICKED OUT EASILY, THIS HAS BEEN YOUR WARNING, NOTHING FLUFFY OR CUTE IS IN HERE

Day One [FFN]/[AO3] - Day Two [FFN]/[AO3]

Day Two: Scars | Sacrifice - LawViola [1148 words; M; DARK]

Acrid notes of flesh and bone still burned at the back of Viola’s nose as she silently moved through the corridors of the castle, headed towards what was once her father’s room. Some victory party—ten years of her life was gone for nothing. Her entire family was now dead, Dressrosa was in a smoldering ruin, they were surrounded by friend and foe alike in a tight blockade, and all while the bastard who made it happen lived and breathed.

At least… at least her part was still secret, her position undiscovered. She could bank on a single shot after this, one last chance to quell her rage, and it was now. Rounding the corner, she saw that Baby 5 was the one standing watch—perfect.

“There you are,” Viola smiled, putting on her mask. “I’ve been looking for you.” The younger woman perked up.

“What is it?”

“I need you to take this message to the Happou Navy.” She held out a letter. “Make sure that you watch the commander read it.”

“…but what about…?”

“I’ll take care of the duties here—we need a young woman with a certain sort of charm to approach them. Now go, quickly, or they’ll likely send another volley before this letter can broker the peace.”

“Yes! Right away!” Baby 5 took the letter and bolted, running down the corridor so she could complete her new mission. Instead of sitting in the chair, Viola went inside the bedroom, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Ah, the inner sanctum. It was lavishly decorated, with large chaise lounges big enough to comfortably fit the Warlord and his Executives, draped in luxurious fabrics and glittering in the low lamplight. Doflamingo sat on one of said couches, barely conscious as he clutched a bottle of...something or other. It was not the only thing he’d had based on the detritus scattered about, either.

“Violet, babe, I was hoping you’d come to me,” he said, voice thick from drink. She had only seen him like this a few times—he was truly plastered. “Who’s at the door?”

“Baby 5; she will take good care of the watch while we… have fun.”

“Where is Law? Where is my Heart?”

Chains clinked softly and Viola knew it was simply the man in-question responding. She glanced to the side and confirmed her suspicion—there he was, chained to the headboard of the four-poster bed, just barely visible around a drawn curtain.

“Be a good boy and finish your drink while I prepare him for you,” she said sweetly. He did, laying lengthwise on the couch as she went to the far side of the room and the occupant of the bed. Trafalgar Law’s appearance in Dressrosa was the reason Doflamingo claimed for squelching her family’s final claimants to the throne and throwing the nation into a final thrust of chaos. The Birdcage now poised around the island was their finest defense, only crossable by those deemed closest to the Mad King; Trafalgar had lost, and Doflamingo had been reaping the benefits. Viola sat down on the edge of the mattress at looked at him—his pale skin was slick with sweat and he had been reduced to just a strip of cloth that had been tied around his waist. “Ready?”

Trafalgar whispered something, his voice barely audible. She leaned in and listened to him repeat, “Where’s Baby 5?”

“I gave her a letter to deliver to Chinjao—if it works, they’ll take her in.”

“The others…?”

“Passed out or in-town.” She pressed their lips together and shuddered at how cold he already was. “How long do you have?”

“Best guess? Less than a day. If I don’t get either a medic or my ability back soon…” He wheezed as his breath pained him. “Let’s go down swinging.”

“Let’s.”

At that, Viola helped Trafalgar sit up, careful not to jostle his infected arm. A wave of nausea swept over her as her hand brushed against the seastone stud pierced into his back—the person they got to sew his arm back on and embed the security measure probably only glanced at good hygiene practices at-best, as it was all weeping horridly with sickness. Doflamingo was facing the opposite wall, giving Trafalgar room to leave a clandestine kiss on the back of Viola’s jaw before they both stood, her supporting him as they went over to the King.

“Mmm… there you are,” Doflamingo purred once he saw Trafalgar. He grabbed the younger man and pulled him onto his lap. “Kiss him for me.”

Obeying, Viola did so, turning Trafalgar’s head so that she could slip her tongue past his lips, silently promising something more if they survived the night. Their eyes met as they parted, lingering longingly.

“Doffy,” she said, losing herself in Trafalgar’s golden eyes, “how about if we start with a little bit of choking to get you in the mood?”

“You know always just what gets me up,” he mumbled. He went to hold one of her hands, only for her to put his back on Trafalgar’s thigh.

“Don’t you want his long fingers on your windpipe?” she asked. Doflamingo nodded, too drunk to piece it together, and tilted his head back.

“Give it to me,” he ordered. Trafalgar swallowed hard and leaned forward, putting his hands on Doflamingo’s neck. He massaged his larynx, alternating between pressure and simple touch; the moans he was pulling out of the older man hid the sound of Viola unsheathing the knife from her leg holster, keeping it out of sight until the last moment.

Then, Viola struck, dragging the blade across Doflamingo’s throat, slicing his carotid arteries and jugular veins as she bisected his voicebox. Trafalgar held their abuser’s chin in place, summoning up the last remaining strength he had to struggle as Doflamingo attempted to undo the assassination, only to find that his strings were not connecting flesh and sinew like it should—a seastone alloy!

Donquixote Doflamingo drowned in an ocean of his own blood.

Viola watched as the life left her abuser’s face and everything felt heavy. She won—he was dead—and all it took was ten years and her family’s lives… movement caught the corner of her vision and she looked to see Trafalgar had passed out and slumped over, falling onto the floor. Taking a handkerchief from her pocket, she turned him over and took the seastone stud out of his back, careful to touch neither the piercing nor the infection around it. He shuddered back to consciousness soon as it no longer was in contact with his skin, coughing up blood that splattered on her dress and the Alabastian rug.

“We did it,” she murmured, cradling him in her arms. He reached up and touched her face, pulling her into a weak kiss before whispering against her lips:

“Long live the Queen.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

A/N: Judith Slaying Holofernes by Artemisia Gentileschi (the one from the Galleria degli Uffizi) is one of my favorite paintings, especially when coupled with the version of her Judith and Her Maidservant pieces that hangs in the Detroit Institute of Arts. Excellent pieces, would recommend.

[nehswritesstuffs]

One Piece Rare Pair Week 2025 - Pride Edition - Part 2 of 7

Someone said it was Rare Pair Week so you know that I, a mod in a Discord server dedicated to exactly that, was on it.

870 words; despite being in a demographic prime for being dress-coded in school, I knew from his introduction that Paulie has a point because they don’t have OSHA regulations at Galley La, just his disaster-bi ass yelling at everyone; contains minor, barely-there blood/bloodplay, the PG-13 use of the word fuck, and description of a workplace accident that puts this at a T+

Part One [FFN]/[AO3] - Part Two [FFN]/[AO3]

Day Two: Scars | Sacrifice - PaulieLucci [870 words; T+]

Bert was dead; three years of working at the shipyard and it claimed his life, slipping and getting trapped underneath a keel as a ship was being slid down to the docks. There wasn’t much left to gather; the most lasting impact was going to be a cleaned-out locker and a tirade on workplace and clothing safety, and it made Paulie’s blood boil.

“I told him time and again to get different boots for the floor,” he grumbled into his beer. It was late as he and the other Dock 1 foremen were at Blueno’s Bar, mostly trying to numb the horror of Bert’s screams and second-guessing their own decisions. “I should have sent him home.”

“It’s not your fault he wore fashion boots,” Kaku reminded him. “Pert near all of us told him at least twice. Even Lucci.”

“We all did,” Hattori hooted from Lucci’s shoulder. “He was stubborn.”

“…and it cost him more than it cost us,” Kaku said. He seemed to be taking it a lot better than Paulie, but it probably had something to do with that old-man-style composure of his. “Can’t let things like this go to your head if you did all the correct things beforehand.”

“Yeah, he didn’t really get to Dock 1 because he listened well!” Tilestone shouted. “Sucks we lost his talent, but it was him in the end how lost it for us!”

“I guess you’re right,” Paulie grumbled. He downed the back half of his beer in one go and put the mug down with a little too much force. “I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

“Be careful out there; today did a rough one on your head, and we don’t need to find you tomorrow morning passed out outside your apartment,” Kaku warned.

“Okay Mom, for fuck’s sake.” Paulie hefted himself from the table and gave Blueno a wave on his way out—time to sleep this off. He staggered only slightly, but it was still enough for him to find he was off-balance enough to accidentally hit his hip on the end of a bridge’s railing as he made his familiar way home.

How in the hell was everyone else so calm? Used to the idea of someone being there one minute and under a hull the next? His coworkers weren’t callous by any means, nor was he naive enough to think that it was completely out the realm of possibility, but it actually happening? Losing a coworker like that… it was worse than a nightmare, and just because he was a foreman did not mean he wasn’t allowed to be shaken like the rest of the men.

Eventually, Paulie heard a familiar cadence of footsteps behind him and he felt able to breathe a sigh of relief. He went to the mouth of an alleyway and turned, seeing Lucci slowly approaching. The bird had flown off somewhere—it always did—and it was all the better as the other man stepped into the alleyway and crowded him against the wall, one hand planted next to his head while the other one took the cigar from his mouth.

“It’s not fair,” Paulie said, knowing he wouldn’t get a response. “Asshole move to leave that shit to us—should’ve known.”

Lucci let out a low grunt and leaned in, kissing Paulie so that he would shut up. He tasted like high-shelf brandy and malt vinegar chips, the same ones the rest of the table split to soak up their drinks. Paulie had not, and moaned into Lucci’s mouth, savoring the other man’s flavor. His hands untucked the other man’s tank top and roamed over the chiseled, powerful body that was trapping him in the latest round of them taking their frustrations out on the other. He felt the scar tissue on Lucci’s back as a thigh rubbed up against his crotch—hnnggg…

“I wish you’d tell me about these,” he said, knowing full-well he’d not get an answer. “Were they from where you apprenticed? Earlier?” Lucci only moved his mouth to Paulie’s neck, nipping at and licking the day’s stubble as he ground their clothed dicks together. “Say something…”

Except, Lucci didn’t respond. He never communicated directly with words—spoken or written—and instead used his hands to feel up Paulie like he was his latest prey… prey that melted in his grasp as the blond let the frustrations of the day melt away in the other man’s arms. It was a coarse, rough feeling as they kissed and rutted against one another, frustrated beyond reason or logic. Cuspids raked against his throat and it barely even occurred to Paulie how large and sharp they truly were, not even after skin broke and Lucci’s tongue lapped at the barest trickle of blood. His head spun—everything was disorientating…

…because that’s what he needed: to not think. He didn’t want to think. Letting off steam was not an intellectual pursuit. All it needed to be was physical, and who better than someone who did not speak, let alone share his secrets. A hand began palming him through his jeans and it made Paulie moan—all the better.

It was not built to last, but then again… what things truly were?

[nehswritesstuffs]

One Piece Rare Pair Week 2025 - Pride Edition - Part 1 of 7

Someone said it was Rare Pair Week so you know that I, a mod in a Discord server dedicated to exactly that, was on it.

832 words; I love Yamato bc he is such a himbo it’s delightful; this is one of the cutest and fluffiest pieces I’ve done in a bit; if anyone is here to argue about Yamabro’s pronouns they will get jettisoned into space okay thanks

[FFN]/[AO3]

Day One: Stargazing | Rain - YamatoHiyori [832 words; G]

It was after twilight as Yamato found himself spreading a blanket out on the grass, Hiyori holding a picnic basket and lantern next to him. He wondered why they were there as they slipped out of their geta and sat down.

“Isn’t it a bit late for a picnic?” he asked. Hiyori put the lantern down on the blanket and gave him a soft smile.

“Not entirely,” she replied, a light chuckle on her lips that put him at-ease. “There are wonders to be had at night as well as the daytime.”

“People from the Flower Capitol sure like to do things different,” he shrugged. Yamato leaned back, looking up at the stars. “I don’t think I’ve had a picnic this late before.”

“Not even to see fireworks?”

“Ha—you know who my dad is—fireworks weren’t exactly when I was having fun.”

“I see.” Hiyori began to occupy herself with the contents of the basket, pulling out a pair of cups and the thermal flask gifted by one of their foreign allies before their departure. Once the tea was poured, she laid out the bentos before taking one for herself and beginning to eat it. “Well, then let me warn you: while you are Wano’s guardian deity, my brother and I shall expect you conduct yourself accordingly. You are truly of Wano now, and her people enjoy dates under the stars.”

“D-date?!” Yamato panicked, sitting straight up. “I… uh…!”

“What did you think this was?” she asked, a sly smile tugging at her lips.

“I dunno; I’ve never done this before.” He opened his bento and saw the carefully-filled compartments filled with tasty things that made his mouth water. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

“I learned during my time in hiding; the ability to make one’s own food is invaluable when it comes to both blending in and avoiding poisons.”

“Oh… never thought about it like that; thanks for the meal.” Yamato ate some of the food and it sent a shiver up his spine—it was so yummy! “I don’t know if I ever stole stuff this good when I lived on Onigashima!”

“I know the feeling.”

Feeling even more out-of-place than before, Yamato picked at his tempura. He was really awkward, wasn’t he? Kaido had tried to set him up with people since he was eighteen, but between him trying to run away and how boring or weird they were, nothing stuck. He would have never considered them dates, and yet now… he was on a date! Oh, he was on a date and they were having homemade bento under the stars… he was stupid for not piecing it together beforehand! Stupid, stupid, stupid…! He went to reach for his tea, only for Hiyori to place her hand on his so that they both held the cup. She took advantage of the fact it froze him and leaned forward, pressing a light, chaste kiss to his cheek.

“Oh! Uh… you are bold, Hiyori-san.” He took his tea and drank some, leaning back out of her reach. “Isn’t this awkward?”

“Now why would it be awkward?”

“I dunno… maybe that I’m Kozuki Oden…? You know… your father…?”

“You might have inherited my father’s will, but you are not him, and that is a good thing.”

“…but, I want to become like Oden some day!”

“I’m sure you will, but do remember that Oden was made to boil; like any good dish, it needs to be prepped as well.”

“Huh…?” Yamato blinked. “What do you mean…?”

“Oden is comprised of many things to make the dish,” Hiyori explained. She smirked as he gaped at her, unsure where the metaphor was going. “That was my father’s secret: he wasn’t Oden because of anything he did, but was only truly Oden when he filled his life with kind and loyal friends, like a chef making oden out of the finest master stock and ingredients.”

“I already have amazing friends—how could I possibly improve on that?”

“Let’s just call it a woman’s intuition.” She kissed him again, this time pressing their lips together. Yamato’s face flushed deep in blush—oh, it made his stomach flutter—and he tried to act cool, only to fail miserably and freeze up again as he mentally processed it. “Great things are in your future; I can feel it.”

“Y-Yeah…?”

“Of course.” Hiyori turned her face up towards the sky, taking in the stars above them. “Only someone great can inherit my father’s will, and my brother is not yet ready for it. That leaves only you, Yamato, and you have done an excellent job thus far.”

“I, uh, guess so…” Yamato looked up to see what Hiyori did and saw the heavens stretched out above them, stars scattered amongst the cosmic dust that stretched from one horizon to the next. “Maybe this was a good idea.”

“No maybe about it,” she smirked. Hiyori opened her bento and began to eat; it was a picnic, after all.

[nehswritesstuffs]

One Piece Rare Pair Week 2025 - Part 1 of 7

Someone said it was Rare Pair Week so you know that I, a mod in a Discord server dedicated to exactly that, was on it.

679 words; let’s say these two clashed for a moment post-Logue Town but pre-Alabasta don’t ask me how (movie continuity, GO!); this one is dedicated to one person in particular and that’s all I’ll say about that lol; feels a little weird bc pre-timeskip Zoro is more animated characterization-wise than post-timeskip Zoro, which feels a little awkward

[FFN]/[AO3]

Day One: Stargazing | Rain - ZoroTashigi [679 words; T]

Tashigi ran over rain-slick cobblestone as she attempted to find her target. It was infuriating how he was able to evade her grasp as easily as he did; what sort of level was he working on that made him impossible to follow while in-town, let alone capture?! A shock of green caught the corner of her vision and she made a hard turn, nearly falling due to rain and momentum.

Ah-ha! She found him! Her chest felt tight as she saw the swordsman she had followed all the way out into the Grand Line was standing in the dead-end alley, scratching his head. She drew her sword and his body language changed; he tensed, hand resting on his own weapons.

“You really don’t like giving up, don’t you?” he chuckled. Turning around, she could see the smirk that was plastered on his face—how dare he! “What do you want, Face Thief?”

“Roronoa Zoro, I’m here to relieve you of your swords, especially the Wado Ichimonji,” Tashigi announced. He scoffed, drawing the two blades she did not name. “If you hand them over, I will let you walk away from this unscathed.”

“I don’t know what your deal is, but I’m willing to play along,” Zoro replied. Tashigi lunged at him and he blocked, using both swords to hold her back.

They then started their dance, swiping and parrying and dodging one another as they battled for who was going to walk away from the encounter less-changed. She was able to knock the sword from his right hand, only for him to use it as an opening and press his remaining sword at her throat while pinning her against the wall, her weaponless hand fisting his shirt.

“Do it,” she spat. One of the lenses of her glasses was cracked; the entire thing had slid down her nose and was liable to fall off at the slightest move. “You wouldn’t be the first man who’d want to kill me.”

“Does that mean you make it a habit of chasing guys?”

“Just the ones with interesting swords.”

He let out a bark of laughter. “Ha! You’re never gonna get stronger that way.”

“Save the speech for the judge,” she snarled. “It’s going to take more than batting your eyelashes to escape sentencing.”

“Batting my…?” Zoro’s brow furrowed, then smoothed as he parsed together her words, raising as his face landed on a grin. “You think I’m cute.”

“Wh-wh-what?!” Tashigi sputtered. Her face felt hot in embarrassment—in his dreams! She wished she could fight back, but he was holding her sword hand against the wall with his free hand. “You’re a pirate!”

“Couples have worse hurdles to clear.”

“How are you so nonchalant about this?!”

“I could do worse.”

“Excuse me?! You could do worse?! I have a steady government job and you’re the vagrant who smells like this rain is his first bath in three days!”

“Four, actually,” Zoro said. Tashigi’s nose crinkled—oh… gross! “What do you say? Think you can fix me?”

“You’re a pirate, not a hobby.” She glared at him. “…and to think we were considering recruiting you.”

“Talk to me after I’ve made my captain King of the Pirates.”

“I’ll help make sure those swords never do such a thing.”

“I’d like to see you try…”

“ZORO!” a voice snapped, making the pirate wince. Tashigi looked and saw a pair of his cohorts running into the alleyway: a young woman with orange hair and a young man with a long nose. The man went to grab the discarded sword, while the woman stormed up to Zoro and twisted his ear. “This is no time for flirting, you asshole! We gotta get out of here! The Navy’s on our tail!”

“Call me,” Zoro said as he was being dragged away, miming picking up a snail receiver. Tashigi was too stunned to respond, watching the pirates leave (did they not recognize her?!?), only the rain to console her.

…because honestly? He was right. As much as she wanted to admit otherwise, they both could do worse.

[nehswritesstuffs]

It's here, the official announcement for One Piece Rarepair Week! 🎉

♥ ONE PIECE RAREPAIR WEEK JUNE 16TH - 22ND 2025 ♥

Guidelines:

Posting begins June 16th, 2025 and will continue through June 22nd. If you're late, that's okay! Content will be reblogged long after the week ends, so take your time and have fun with it!

Please use either the #oprarepairweek or #oprarepairweek2025 tags so that we can find your post! You can also directly tag this blog (@oprarepairweek) as well.

All forms of media (art, writing, videos, etc.) are welcomed! (AI generated media is EXCLUDED.)

Sensitive content (i.e. NSFW, gore, violence, etc.) is allowed as long as it is tagged/censored appropriately.

This event is only being hosted on tumblr and AO3, but feel free to share your work on any platform!

AO3 users may add their works to the official collection. (Link will be added once the 2025 collection is created.)

Please note that this event is for rarepairs only. See the list under the cut for examples of ships.

Prompts:

Day 1: Stargazing | Rain

Day 2: Scars | Sacrifice

Day 3: Hurt | Comfort

Day 4: AU | Roleswap

Day 5: Soulmate | Tragedy

Day 6: Secrets | Confessions

Day 7: Freedom | Free Day

If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask! The askbox is open 24/7 💖

As mentioned previously, this is an event for rarepairs only, so please try to avoid creating content for the more popular/well known ships in the fandom if you can! Below is a list of some of those ships to give you a general idea of what should be excluded from the event.

Zoro/Sanji

Law/Luffy

Zoro/Luffy

Marco/Ace

Kid/Law

Kid/Killer

Franky/Robin

Nami/Vivi

Luffy/Nami

Shanks/Buggy

Shanks/Mihawk

Crocodile/Doflamingo

Sanji/Ace

Zoro/Law

Luffy/Sanji

Zoro/Robin

Guidelines for what is considered a rarepair and what isn't is very loose, so don't worry too much about it if you aren't sure (and again, you can always ask!) If you happen to make something for a more "popular" ship I promise you won't get in trouble. We're just taking out the really obvious ships in order to let the less popular ones get their chance to shine ✨

And as for some of those less popular ships...if you need examples, here's a whole bunch!

Nami/Uta

Usopp/Sanji

Zoro/Nami

Law/Sanji

Shanks/Beckman

Carrot/Pudding

Robin/Hancock

Sabo/Law

Usopp/Zoro

Ace/Law

Reiju/Nami

Corazon/Shanks

Zoro/Kikunojo

Buggy/Crocodile

Sanji/Sabo

Luffy/Usopp

Nami/Koala

Buggy/Corazon

Roger/Garp

Franky/Iceburg

Tashigi/Reiju

Crocodile/Mihawk

Vivi/Rebecca

Luffy/Kid

...And tons more! This list doesn't even include any poly ships, so just use your imagination and go wild ;)