#and that’s a given for all strawhats. zoro is somehow worse than all of them in this category

[trauersinfonie]

i rememebr when this Art first came out and dudebros got rlly angry cuz luffy was in it and they were saying shit like “why can’t zoro have anything for himself” and it killed me cuz. zoro was probably posing and luffy went up to him and wanted to join and zoro was like Ok but then proceeded to commit 2 whole hours to taking the perfect pic in which he got really intense about making both of them look cool and then subsequently printed it out and kept it in a little locket like the ones soldiers have of their loved ones to look at before getting blown up by a land mine

[blacklegsanjiii]

NOOO but for Warlord!Sanji I have a truly devastating idea.

what if the warlords think Sanji is dead for some reason?

kind of inspired off the last ask, but maybe marines capture Blackleg and put out newspapers talking abt the execution. and the strawhats try to get there but a devil fruit is involved and nobody can find his location and a whole week passes after the execution date with no sign from Sanji. the crew is desperate. Jinbei seems unusually wrecked and keeps disappearing to have dendenmushi calls but the others dont notice until the day four warlords appear on sunny's deck demanding to know where their son is.

but none of them know, that's the problem, they dont where he was and if hes alive where he would even be. the warlords are very quiet abt this. then they leave. every marine hq in an even remote vicinity is obliterated to bedrock; not just searching for Sanji, but in retribution for hurting him, whether hes alive or not

then a month later Sanji reappears in a comatose state being carried by Reiju, who explains that shes very sorry she couldnt bring him earlier, but although shed gotten past whaetevr devil fruit-enhanced boundary there was, she couldnt leave for a while, and even afterwards couldnt risk moving him too much due to the torture he endured to ensure he couldnt escape during the execution.

whatever happens next is up to you :)

Ohh loorrd. It starts as a normal skirmish but after the dust settles Sanji is gone with the higher ranking Marines from the fight. The Strawhats search and search for days but every night Jinbei excuses himself to make a phone call that lasts for seemingly hours. Then a paper comes with an article about Sanji and his pending execution. The Strawhats immediately try to make it there, to save him. But they can't find out where it's being held, no one has information on it. It's a black hole of information and Jinbei is somehow worse than before when the paper comes and explains the execution has happened. They keep searching, keep hoping to find something, anything. Jinbei keeps making calls.

The first to show is Doflamingo who Luffy immediately tries to punch but the tall man catches his fist. He's not smiling and he's not acting like he did on Dressrosa at all as Jinbei approaches. Boa is next and she hugs Luffy but she seems sad and distant as she sits with the two other warlords. Crocodile arrives and turns to sand to avoid the crew. Jinbei keeps stopping Luffy from hurting the two warlords he has beef with and Zoro is getting pissed when Mihawk gets on the boat. He eyes Zoro and asks what all that training was for. Zoro yells and goes to attack him. Mihawk just catches the blade in a haki hand and tosses him aside.

"Enough, all of you. There are more important things to worry about." Jinbei scolds them with a harsh look.

"Why are 'Mingo and Croc here?" Luffy demands.

"Why do we have four former warlords on our boat?" Nami asks.

"Mutual interest, you could say." Crocodile says as he puffs on his cigar.

"Where the hell are they?" Doflamingo asks looking at Jinbei.

"We don't know." Jinbei says. "So none of you have found anything either?"

"At this point we have to assume it is similar to Roger. The Marines know of their tie to us." Mihawk says as he crosses his arms.

"Are you talking about Sanji?" Luffy asks.

"Yes." Jinbei says.

"I thought given your track record with family you would have killed them." Boa says to Doflamingo.

"Yeah, and then I would have to deal with you four and ghost girl. No thanks." Doflamingo growls.

"Perona? The hell does she have to do with this? What the hell is going on, how the hell does the cook have ties to you people?" Zoro demands.

"Sanji is our child, Mihawk saved them when they were small." Boa answers which makes the crew either gasp or widen their eyes. Zoro stares at his mentor who is more tense than normal, bubbling rage under the man's skin.

"Hawkeye-" Crocodile starts.

"Call if you find anything." The swordsman growls as he gets back to his boat and leaves. Boa sighs and pats Luffy's shoulder and leaves. Doflamingo strings his way to the clouds and Crocodile looks at Zoro.

"He's never lost someone before, he doesn't blame you." Crocodile shrugs as he leaves with a nod to Jinbei. Jinbei then explains his time with Sanji and how he met the cook and their history. The newcoo brings reports of Naval bases being obliterated. The crew finds a new normal without their cook they really don't like. The Thousand Sunny isn't as bright without Sanji's smiles and songs. Brook can't seem to play a happy song and Chopper crawls into Zoro's hammock and cries after nightmares. Luffy doesn't ask for food near as much and Nami and Robin's cooking can't measure up and Usopp has to make a list to go on the fridge for ingredients for when they restock.

Then the soft boop boop is on deck one night makes Zoro look at this pink haired girl who is not Perona, holding the cook who is fucked up with a sorrowful look on her face makes him yell and wake the crew up. The rush of footsteps approach and Chopper immediately directs Reiju to the infirmary where he and Robin lock everyone out to start treating Sanji.

"What happened, Reiju?" Nami demands as she looks at the woman.

"The devil fruit hiding them was not something I had seen before, made it almost impossible to find him and even harder to get him out." Reiju explains.

Chopper and Robin come back after a while looking exhausted and tired. Jinbei looks exasperated as they listen to the list of injuries Sanji has sustained and Sanji being in a coma that he might not wake up from. The list is long and extensive, his knees and hips were dislocated, both his hands smashed repeatedly, multiple head traumas and cuts and stab wounds over his body.

When the other warlords come aboard they look at Reiju and the crew as Chopper approaches them and says they might want to sit down. He explains what Reiju did and how she got Sanji out and why it took so long and the state Sanji is in. He warns them that Sanji may never wake up but for now they are stable and there is a very close eye being kept on them.

"May I ask why you would risk your life to save Sanji? Given everything we know, Judge must be looking for you." Mihawk asks Reiju.

"I'm trying to fix past mistakes." Reiju answers.

"But you helped us escape Tottoland." Luffy says with confusion.

"Sanji's life before the warlords is not a happy one and up until their escape I may have never laid hands up on him but I certainly didn't stop our brothers." Reiju says.

"But wouldn't they have hurt you?" Nami asks.

"I certainly would have been able to handle it better, I have most of the mutations Sanji lacks." Reiju answers.

"So you saved them thinking this would absolve you of some of your sins? Interesting." Doflamingo says.

"She should be getting back to Germa unless we want to deal with another mess right now." Robin cuts in. "For now we need to figure out what to do with Sanji and how we will protect them."

"Kuraigana would be the simplest answer." Zoro points out.

"Amazon Lily as well but the Navy knows what we've been doing." Boa shrugs.

"Is that why Sanji's execution was so hidden? Their ties to you?" Nami asks.

"If Ace's execution was anything to go by having five former warlords and at least two emperors coming to interrupt an execution wouldn't end well." Crocodile says as he gestures at Luffy. "You also broke almost all of Impel Down out."

"That's true, Ace and the White Beard fleet may have struggled but if it wasn't for the warlords turning against the Navy as well as Shanks showing up we might have lost all of you." Robin points out.

"So what should we do?" Zoro asks.

"To be blunt we need to be prepared to set a time limit on how long we will wait for Sanji to wake up. Perhaps calling in Marco or Law to also check Sanji over." Robin answers.

The deck goes quiet and Chopper offers to let the parents see Sanji one at a time and Luffy agrees to let them stay aboard until they decide what to do. Reiju leaves after both of those are offered and no one really minds. If Germa also decides to come after them it'll be too much of a hassle.

They decide on two weeks. Crocodile helps Nami with the budget and Doflamingo is useful with the sails and watch. Mihawk and Boa settle in for kitchen duties, they're better than Robin and Nami but not as good as Sanji. Everyone aboard takes turns with spending time with Sanji and after about a week Sanji shows signs of waking up, and a few days later does. Chopper does a thorough check up as everyone waits for the news.

"You need to quit stressing about Sanji, you have grey streaks." Boa says poking Mihawk's hair.

"My life has been nothing but stress since he joined it." Mihawk says boredly.

"I can feel the love you have for your child radiating from you." Nami deadpans.

"I would say twenty some odd marine bases being destroyed for my son is a worthy sign of love." Mihawk gives her a look. Chopper comes to find them all though and looks at his clipboard and runs through everything.

According to his tests Sanji has no memory issues and is physically weak but given a few weeks he'll be fine. Chopper explains that the things Sanji went through will have a lasting effect on the cook's mental health, which everyone expected. Luffy, ever the optimistic, says they'll do anything Sanji needs. Everyone gets their turns to see Sanji and the parents get all the information out of Sanji they can regarding the torture/execution.

They stay a few extra days to make sure Sanji listens to his doctor and crew before departing. The crew finds it interesting how tender the warlords can be. Sure, they knew about Jinbei and Boa but the other three being kind and sweet was kind of weird.

Then the newscoo comes saying four warlords have launched an all out assault on the World Government for the failed execution of Sanji which makes the pirating world go insane.

[kbstories]

Axiomatic

ax·i·om·at·ic (adj.) Self-evident; unquestionable.

The best part of battle is the afterparty.

(Or: Kidd wears a fur coat, Killer is thirsty. Zoro is there until he isn’t.)

Tags: Established Relationship, Drinking, Fluff and Smut, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, It’s a PWP what can I say?

Read Chapter 1 here. Post-Wano setting. Content warning for mentions of Body Dysmorphia (relating to Killer).

***

Killer is drunk.

Technically he’s tipsy and on-his-way-to-drunk. There’s a bottle of sake in his hand, half-full or half-empty depending where his head is in a given moment. The straw between his lips is growing brittle, already frayed at the edge – he’s been toying with it rather than drinking for a while now, distracted by the feast running its course below.

With his ass firmly planted on the stone weight of one of the roofs – the inn’s, perhaps? Killer can’t recall why he got up here, much less which house it is – he’s got a view over all of Okobore Town, from where the outskirts are swallowed by the Wasteland to the pitiful square still lit by the bonfire’s embers. Whoever’s in charge of feeding the flames has obviously left their post or followed the siren song of free booze. They wouldn’t be the first to do so, the streets littered with those passed out or making out or both, somehow.

It reminds Killer a little of home. Well, the place they used to call home, him and Kidd, a town so small it isn’t really worth considering it one. Nothing more than the scrapyard of the bustling capital right next door with the people to match: Too poor to live, too stubborn to die and so they got carried along, forgotten by history.

Same bullshit, different island, Killer muses via the wisdom of too much sake in his blood. Different ocean altogether, and there’s no fondness in that.

Home isn’t a place for Killer but a feeling, the one he gets with full sails fluttering above and Kidd up front, hair wild in the wind.

Freedom’s a fickle thing, as quickly lost as it is gained with how complacent the masses tend to get. At sea it’s just them and their ship against the elements, life and death a matter of seeing the storm coming and having the guts to spit in its face.

Alone on that roof, Killer grins around the straw. That’s the shit worth living for, day after day after day.

Down there is Kidd, the red flash of his hair one Killer seeks out by sheer habit; his silhouette against the dying bonfire is imposing, that ridiculous coat hanging big and imperial off his shoulders. If he focuses, Killer could probably make out what he’s yelling about with… Strawhat’s navigator? Killer squints, infusing his sight with Haki where the dark and the holes in his mask fail him.

Yeah, that’s Nami. She says something, hands on expensive fur. She’s grinning, innocent and cunning all at once and that’s why they call her a cat, huh?

Killer considers cranking up the audio sensitivity on his helmet. Considers it, and tosses the thought right out the metaphorical window. Kidd’s a big boy, he can defend his precious coat from a thief. Nami, presumably, also knows what she’s getting into, poking the bear like that.

A long sip of sake later and Killer nods to himself. A good, rational choice.

His bottle is decidedly past half-empty when Roronoa Zoro finds him. Killer is not surprised, has felt him wandering around for a while now – there are two bottles of sake in his hands, his gait utterly steady despite the rosy tinge to his cheeks.

A heavy drinker, Killer’s heard that. He polishes off his drink to gesture to one of Zoro’s.

 “You’ve got good timing, Pirate Hunter.”

“Who says it’s for you?”, Zoro asks with a snort, and gives him the second bottle anyways. When he sits, he does so with the kind of controlled grace many of Wano’s people wield, that flawless rigidity speaking of a life of discipline.

The way he drinks is the exact opposite of that. Interesting.

Killer concentrates on getting the straw through the narrow neck of the pitcher for a moment. The first sip proves it’s decent stuff; Killer’s mouth shapes itself around a pleased hum.

“You ever think about why the Marines call us what they do?”

It certainly makes Killer pause. Zoro doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to dabble in meaningless small talk – then again, what does Killer know? He turns his head to be able to see the look on Zoro’s face, watches the man nurse his sake with a pensive expression.

“‘Pirate Hunter’… Been a pirate longer than I was hunting ‘em. They could get the hint, y’know.”

They’re doing this, then. Pretending they weren’t at each other’s throats a mere week or two ago, like Zoro didn’t witness the side of Killer he loathes enough to hide it, always.

Fine. Killer can roll with that. “Which would you prefer? ‘Demon of the East Blue’?”

Zoro laughs and it’s so easy for him. “Now that’s one I haven’t heard in a while. You��ve been snooping, huh?”

“Sure as fuck not going into an alliance blind”, says Killer and it’s a bit pointed, a bit of a warning. They came back from war mere days ago but there’s room for blood when it comes to protecting their own.

“Mh. Wonder what that’s like.”

… Right. The guy’s the right hand of Strawhat Luffy, after all.

They drink, and Killer watches his captain. “The Marines don’t know shit, anyways.” A low hum to his side, prompting. Agreeing, perhaps. “Incompetent bastards thought I was the one to look out for when we made ourselves known, back in South Blue.”

“So ‘Massacre Soldier’ was, what, a misunderstanding?”

That makes Killer chuckle, a low ff ff ff sound. “Nah. Just that Kidd’s worse.”

“Ah.”

And it seems whatever else Zoro wants to add to that will have to wait. Even from afar Killer can feel it when Kidd’s eyes land on him and he sighs. “Speak of the devil. You might wanna get out of here.”

The sake stops on its way to Zoro’s mouth. “Huh?”

“Just giving you a fair warning, ’s all. Kidd kinda hates your guts over the whole”, a vague gesture to his own chest, “thing. He likes to keep grudges.”

“… Huh?”

Killer shrugs. It’s too late anyways. “Here he comes.”

“Hey! You!”

It doesn’t matter if he’s tipsy or drunk or whatever: Wrangling Kidd is something Killer grew up doing, and he stares him down now as Kidd pulls himself towards them by the metal in Killer’s mask. Hands up, no hesitation – Killer catches Kidd by the scruff of his coat, an arm winding around Kidd’s waist with enough strength to crush a smaller man and barely enough to drag this particular fool away.

To his credit, Zoro stays exactly where he is, his face blooming into something strangely close to delight. “Hah! You weren’t kidding.”

“Never am”, Killer tells him. He’s wheezing a little with how hard Kidd is struggling against his grip. “Captain! Fucking hell, you promised.”

“Didn’t promise shit”, Kidd hisses, a distinct slur to his words that Killer recognizes without trouble. Wasted indeed. “Roronoa! Hands off my partner!”

Zoro laughs – not the best of moves, Killer thinks with a wince – until his swords start vibrating. The smile drops real fast, then, becoming more of a tense smirk as he grabs on to that white katana of his.

“Oi, Spikey. Play nice now.”

All Kidd does is redouble his efforts, a whirlwind of bulging muscle in Killer’s arms and oh, Killer has had it. He presses his face against Kidd’s neck, his mouth only an inch or two away from his ear where they’re separated by Killer’s mask.

“Eustass fucking Kidd”, he growls. “Stop it or I will end you.”

Wasted or not, a shudder goes through his partner at that. It always does when Killer says his name like that. Killer knows, whatever happens now:

They both have a long night ahead of them.

*

Frantic hands, gasps of breath, lipstick smeared beyond hope between one kiss and the next. A moan, quiet against the sounds of belts being undone.

Killer pushes Kidd, gaze on him and only him as he bounces a little on the bed – their bed – and stares up at Killer. Eyes red as dusk, shining with the feral grin on his lips.

Killer gets on his knees for Kidd, always for him, and even if his blood wasn’t a-buzz with residue anger and alcohol, the way Kidd says “Fuck, Killer, yes” would get him there for sure. Trembling with it, Killer’s fingers hook into the waistband of Kidd’s pants to pull him closer, just where he wants him.

Kidd’s boots land on solid ground with a wooden thud. Legs splayed and Killer in the middle.

“You always have to make a mess”, Killer tells him, holds him down with one hand and the other working on his fly, “always so reckless”, and fuck, Kidd’s hard already. Hot and velvet-smooth in Killer’s palm and Killer forgets about chewing him out, for a moment.

It’s been weeks. Weeks since they’ve had time for this, hell, since Killer could even think about needing Kidd beyond the comfort his mere presence brings. With that infernal smile on his lips and his lungs clenching around the need to laugh, nothing would’ve come of it anyways.

Killer leans over and breathes Kidd in, gives him a gentle kiss, over the delicate vein that throbs under his lips. “We’re not done”, he lets him know, voice having lost most of its edge; Kidd laughs, runs a hand through the messy bangs falling into Killer’s eyes.

“I sure hope not. C’mon, don’t–”

Whatever Killer isn’t supposed to do gets lost in a moan. Kidd is big in Killer’s mouth, big and so familiar and Killer feels Kidd’s fingers tighten where they make a desperate grab for his hair. It makes him groan around the cock sliding over his tongue, again as he swallows around him and Kidd’s thighs jolt under the weight pinning them down.

Kidd is loud, it’s who he is, but there’s something about the cut-off calls of Killer’s name that gets to him. That makes him throw any sense of taking things slow to the wind and suck cock like he means it, lids fluttering shut and painted lips wide as he takes his captain as far down as he can get him without choking.

It’s been a while and it feels so good.

“Just like that, K. Keep goin’ just like that, don’t stop, fuck–”

And Killer feels his muscles shift under his hand, fingers splayed across Kidd’s abs straining with the need to move. Later, he might let him – can feel his own cock ache in too-tight jeans with the thought of Kidd holding him down and using him until he’s sated.

For now, he wants to get Kidd off, to hear his voice crack as it only does when he’s trembling on that edge.

It doesn’t take long at all, Killer’s lips and tongue and mouth dragging him there with no mercy for how breathless Kidd gets. “Kil”, Kidd gasps a warning; Killer hums, pulls off to catch the tip between his lips and jack him off the rest of the way, his hand easily gliding over spit-slick skin–

Kidd comes just like that, spilling into Killer’s mouth in twitching spurts. Given the garbage Kidd calls a diet he doesn’t taste the best but it’s Kidd, it’s the man Killer has hardwired his brain to adore no matter what. Killer moans softly, reaches down to rub himself as Kidd’s fingers release their death grip and sort of… pet him instead.

“Fuck me, darling, next time I’m horny I’ll just piss you off on purpose.”

Wiping his mouth, Killer huffs, “You already do that”, follows the trail of red leading up to Kidd’s navel with his lips. “You’re insufferable.” Licks along the valleys of his ripped stomach to kiss away the sweat gathering in the scar bisecting his pecs. “And we’re not done.”

Kidd rumbles a groan, pulls Killer into an open-mouthed kiss. The cold touch of metal worms its way under Killer’s shirt, in stark contrast to the need in Killer’s veins. It makes him shiver. “Kidd”, whispers Killer into that filthy kiss and it sounds like please, like more.

“Mh, I got you. Take this off, baby, let me see you.”

A demanding tug to Killer’s jeans. Killer doesn’t think twice about it: It’s a relief to get rid of them, the fabric starting to cling to his legs with how hot he’s running, and Killer throws off his boots and shirt to places unknown while he’s at it. Rolls his shoulders where they’re still a bit stiff from carrying his scythes all day.

Kidd is watching him, a hand on his own cock even if it won’t get hard quite yet. Leaning back in a sea of fur with the effortless grace of a king and the look of arrogant expectation to match. Killer meets it as he ties his hair into a loose knot to get it somewhat out of the way, nodding at him.

“You too. Or do you want me to tear ‘em off of you?”

How dark Kidd’s eyes can get. Those are his favorite pants though – Killer decides to be nice about it, unties Kidd’s boots enough for him to kick them off and save the rest of his clothes from an untimely demise.

Well, most of them. When Kidd makes to shrug off the coat Killer stops him. “Keep it.” His hands are on those suede-clad shoulders he’s been salivating over for hours now. “Keep the fur, Kidd”, an order he has no right to give, fingers clawed as they burrow between that softness and a heat that’s all Kidd.

It gets a look of genuine surprise out of Kidd. That, along with a pleased smile, closed-lipped. “Like it that much, do ya?”

Killer hums, “It’s soft”, kisses him, hides his own smile against demanding lips and the warning bite of teeth. “Makes me want to fuck you on it. Got a problem with that?”

“Shit, you kidding? Let’s ruin it.”

As much as he’s an impudent little shit anywhere else, here, coming alive under Killer, Kidd is all eager compliance and greedy hands across Killer’s back; it shouldn’t be as addicting as it is, the notion that this – the needy panting in his ear, the flush high in Kidd’s cheeks and spilling down to his chest – is all Killer’s. Only his, nobody else’s.

Killer slows down, then. Once Kidd has scrambled for the slick they keep around and Killer’s got his hands warmed up, he takes his time. Pushes one of Kidd’s legs to the side, keeps him there while he stretches Kidd finger by finger and fuck, he’s tight, clenching impatiently where Killer pushes in knuckle-deep.

“You’re killing me”, Kidd says, whines really, easily worked up by the twist of Killer’s fingers in him. Kidd’s prosthetic clings to Killer’s shoulder, his other hand in his own hair and tugging. “I’m ready, just – get in there!”

Killer is willing to rush a lot. Not this, though, never this.

“Shut up and relax”, he grumbles but he kisses Kidd, too, along the jagged edges of the scar down his face and his neck to suck on his clavicle. Kidd moans shamelessly, hips bucking into Killer’s curling fingers as he adds another.

Seeking that burning stretch before Killer can stop him. Killer curses, pulls out.

“Don’t complain later. You wanted this.”

Kidd tosses his head back into the covers and laughs. “Yesss. Fuck me, c’mon.”

Smug asshole. More slick, dripping from Killer’s cock to the fur below. The glide of his hand as he spreads it is already a lot, the sight of Kidd’s muscular neck bared and vulnerable hitting Killer somewhere instinctive, primal.

Deep down, Killer doesn’t want to wait either. He props himself up on one elbow, a mere inch or two separating their faces – and he stares at Kidd when he guides himself inside. At the way his mouth goes a little slack with it, the flare of his nose at the threadbare breath that follows.

“Good”, Killer tells him, catches Kidd’s gaze that’s barely past half-lidded. Licks over his bottom lip and kisses him, chaste as to not distract him from that first, long thrust.

“Doing so well, Kidd, almost there.”

Kidd feels sinful around him, warm and fluttering with tension that melts under the gentle thrusts Killer opens him up with. Leaning up to nip at Killer’s beard, his chin, and Killer indulges him, pushes his tongue into his mouth, slowly, languidly. Swallowing the soft noises Kidd makes as Killer hoists him up higher in his lap, Killer’s knees sliding apart in sleek fur.

He fucks him just like that, arms steady around Kidd and locking him in place when Killer finds a pace he can keep up for a while. Kidd fights it at first, he always does, not the kind of man to lie there and take it – Killer nuzzles his jaw, “It’s okay, let go, let go”, words that he knows Kidd needs to hear, cocky as he may act. Kidd’s breath shudders out of him and he does, finally relenting against the angle that makes him come undone each and every time.

Letting Killer sink in to the hilt and he groans, bites at Kidd’s throat and the pulse thundering there. “Good, so good for me.”

He rocks them both, hard enough to make Kidd shift against the fur. Kidd’s legs tighten where they’re tangled with Killer’s and he whimpers, far enough out of his head not to care what he sounds like anymore. A sound that burns in Killer’s gut, his chest, mouth open and panting over Kidd’s skin as he does it again and again and again.

It’s Kidd’s fingers going for the bundle of Killer’s hair and holding on; the feeling of Kidd’s prosthetic drawing red, stinging lines down the length of Killer’s back. “Kidd”, Killer mutters, demands, “Kidd–”

Kidd pulls at blonde strands coming loose, hard. “Whatever you want, K. Whatever you want, please–”

Voice gone, hoarse with the things Killer is doing to him.

Something in Killer snaps. The coat is torn open: Killer hears some of the seams pop in some places and he doesn’t care, mind and soul focused on turning Kidd around and getting him on his hands and knees.

“Fuck”, Kidd half-gasps, half-moans, “fuck–”

Then Killer is inside him again, sweating skin slapping against sweating skin, and his lips trace the shivers racing up Kidd’s spine, the faint freckles dotting Kidd’s shoulders. Kidd, Kidd, Kidd, his senses sharp as knives and hands roaming over what’s his, all his.

Whatever sounds Kidd is making, they are beyond words as he drops to his elbows and bends his back, pushing back into every hard shove of Killer’s hips. Killer moans, loud and breathless – feels Kidd clench around him and he gets a hand on Kidd’s cock, hard and leaking all over the coat, that fucking coat.

For the second time Kidd’s voice trembles, breaks apart on a high ah! as Killer squeezes him tight, so tight. Kidd comes around a choked noise and Killer keeps fucking him, his own peak tantalizingly in reach, not quite–

Kidd goes utterly boneless but there’s determination in the sliver of his eyes, the rasp of “keep goin’, want to feel ya”, and Killer grabs onto his hair just to tilt his head to the side and kiss him.

Over and over Killer takes him, covering Kidd with his bulk and it melts his brain, how Kidd just lets him. How Killer doesn’t have to hold back with him, going as deep as he possibly can and barely coming up for air until he loses himself in it, in Kidd.

Shaking apart above him, head bowed against the nape of Kidd’s neck. Killer rolls the last few thrusts just to feel how slick Kidd is, how well he takes him like this.

After that: A head full of static, numb limbs, cooling sweat.

“Hey, Kil.”

It’s Kidd’s voice that guides him back, “You there?”, the gentle motions of Kidd’s hand brushing the tie out of Killer’s hair and letting it fall around them. Killer pushes into that touch, humming. So comfortable.

“Babe, I kinda need to breathe here.”

Killer laughs and it’s fine like that, low and muffled against Kidd’s neck. “That so?”, he mumbles but he gets the hint, pushing himself to the side with a tired groan.

“Mmh. My head’s all fuzzy.”

“Yeah?” A hand slaps down on Killer’s chest, rough knuckles rubbing over the half-healed wound there. “From drinking or from fucking me to oblivion?”

Ff ff ff, Killer makes. He feels so light.

“Both, probably.”

Yeah, Killer is allowed a little smugness, too: Kidd’s hair is all mussed, lips red from kissing, neck covered in fresh, rose-colored bruises. Well used and looking like he doesn’t plan on moving even if the Punk’s cannons started firing around them.

Definitely worth slaying the coat over, Killer decides.

Still, when Killer takes Kidd’s hand in his, it’s all tenderness. Killer’s thumb brushes over Kidd’s knuckles, the same spot he presses a soft kiss to. Kidd lets him, squeezing back.

Their fingers entangle without really having to think about it, years of partnership in a single touch; and with the Punk's gentle sway all around them, they allow themselves to drift.

[aurorapillar]

Title: one eye and a heartbeat   Fandom: One Piece Characters: Trafalgar D. Water Law, Basil Hawkins (mentioned) Warnings: Implied eye trauma Summary: Law wasn't afraid of torture, he'd been hurt plenty before and it had never broken him, but he couldn't say the same about if his crew were to be tortured.

It wasn't that he was worried about them spilling information, he had confidence in their ability to stay quiet, no what worried him was what he might do

AO3 Link

The concept being tortured had never been something that phased Law, it wasn’t something that he wanted to have happen to him of course, but he didn’t really hold any fear towards being hurt.

It wasn’t pleasant, but he’d had plenty of experience dealing with pain throughout his life; his lungs and muscles had burned while running from bullets in Flevance, in Spider Miles he’d been bruised and knocked around during training, while traveling with Cora-san the White Lead Disease had wracked his body with pain, at Punk Hazard Vergo had put him through the wringer until he got his heart back, and in Dressrosa he'd been beaten and shot and nearly killed. None of that had managed to break him though and he was confident it never would, but he couldn't say the same about if his crew were to be tortured.

It wasn't that he was worried about them spilling information, he had confidence in their ability to stay quiet, no what worried him was what he might do. Back when he'd been a child fresh from the tragedy of Flevance he'd been filled with anger and hadn't thought he'd ever be able to let himself care about anyone again, not that it mattered to him much given the short amount of time he had left to live, but Cora-san had managed to worm his way into his heart against his will and he'd found himself once again with someone he didn’t want to lose. He had lost him though and the cracks that had barely started to smooth themselves out turned jagged again and tore into his heart.  

He'd sworn to himself that he wouldn't care again after that, but he hadn't been born a person who could be happy truly being alone and so somehow two bratty teens and a polar bear mink cub had become important to him. As the years passed more nakama had come along and while they couldn’t replace those who were gone, they were still invaluably important to him and he wanted to protect them. If there came a time when he had to choose between the Alliance or protecting his crew he knew he wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice the many to save the few, it was selfish and certainly someone nobler than him like Strawhat would try to save both groups, but he couldn’t risk losing anyone else. 

The first loss of his family and friends had broken him and it was only Cora-san’s kindness that allowed him to put himself together as much as he had; the loss of Cora-san though had shattered him, all the pieces he’d so carefully glued back into place stabbing at his fingers when he tried to pick them up. It had taken years and the support of others to get back to even a semblance of the person he’d once been and even then there had still been pieces missing; somehow though, he knew that if he were to lose anyone else he wouldn’t be able to survive it.

That was why he’d been so quick to trade himself in for his crew, with them free they couldn’t be used against him and he’d fair far better as a captive then they would. Not to mention if things went well he hoped that he’d be able to learn some new information, of course, he knew that the enemy would also likely be seeking information as well and probably wouldn’t hesitate to use force to try and obtain it. That could work out for him though, it was amazing how much people would tell you when they thought you were at their mercy.

As it turned out he was right, both about them wanting information and being willing to use force to try and get it; he’d been roughed up even before being questioned, his head slammed into a wall until blood ran down his face, which he found rather stupid; giving a prisoner a concussion wasn't very conductive towards getting coherent answers out of them. No one had bothered to ask his opinion on how they should beat him up though.

He was pretty sure his ribs were cracked as well thanks to a particularly vicious kick that had been aimed at his midsection, but since they didn't seem in any danger of piercing a lung at the current moment he ignored it, smirking through the pain as Hawkins finally started the questioning.

'What are the Alliances plans?' 'Where is everyone hiding?' 'Who exactly is part of the Alliance?' Each question was interspersed with more beatings when he refused to answer or gave nothing but a sarcastic comment in reply, but he remained unimpressed and unfazed. For pirates and a member of the Supernovas, Hawkins and his ilk were rather underwhelming when it came to the whole being intimidating thing. Or maybe it was Law's own fault for having spent too much time around much more intimidating people like Doflamingo.

When the question 'What is Straw Hat planning?' Was asked, he found himself unable to hold back a snort, truth be told he honestly wasn’t sure Straw Hat was even capable of planning things; at least not beyond a basic go here, punch that. He certainly wasn't very good at following them, no, his talent in regards to plans seemed to be in throwing them off course.

One of Hawkins companions didn't seem to appreciate Law's amusement at the question, or maybe it was the mocking jab he'd made at the groups intelligence following his snort that he hadn't appreciated; whatever the reason, he'd drawn a knife and lunged forward, the blade slicing across Law's face and straight through his eye. Despite how well he'd been holding up until then, Law couldn't help but let out a hiss of pain at the unexpected attack, with blood clogging his sight and no access to his Devil Fruit it was impossible for him to tell how bad the damage was, but the sting of his eye didn't bode well.

Dimly he noticed Hawkins and his companions dragging the attacker out of the room, but he was too focused on keeping himself calm to do more than idly note it. An eye was not something he knew if he could fix, if it had been carefully removed he probably could put it back in place, but one that had been slashed he didn't know what he could do about. There was no point in panicking though, the damage might not even be that bad and even if it was, the loss of an eye was not some life-threatening injury.

The change in depth perception would take some getting used to, but there were plenty of pirates out there who had lost an eye and still got on just fine, Roronoa Zoro for one. There was a chance that the loss of some of his sight could have a negative effect on his ability to perform some medical procedures, but with his fruit to help him that could easily be dealt with.

Really the biggest worry Law had in regards to the possibility that his eye might be irrevocably damaged was not anything to do with how it would affect him, but rather how his crew would react. For all that he’d heard it said that his crew didn’t really fit him, which wasn’t entirely wrong, after all, they were quite a bit nicer and more openly affectionate than he was; there were still things they had in common, and one of those was their protectiveness towards those they cared about.

His crew had been angry, both at Doflamingo and also a little bit at him for sending them away, when they’d found out about his arm having been cut off; though thankfully they hadn’t learned about his other injuries and quite frankly he hoped they never would. In a situation like the current one, where he had been injured after having traded himself in for them, they wouldn’t just be angry, they'd feel guilty and that was much worse. Anger Law could deal with, his crew usually wasn't so foolhardy as to run off without any thought to get revenge, but guilt was much harder.

He might have been the captain of a crew known as the Heart Pirates, but he really wasn’t any good at heart-to-heart type of things, he didn’t know the right words to say to comfort someone over their perceived failures. Actions had always been his method of choice for helping his crew, he did things like patching up injuries and slicing up anyone who threatened his crew, and left things like physical affection and emotional reassurances to Bepo, Penguin and Shachi.  

That wasn’t going to work for the current situation though, not when it was those three who would likely need their guilt assuaged, so he’d have to do things differently. Of course, given his own precarious mental state, which had improved somewhat thanks to Doflamingo’s defeat and the talk he’d had with Sengoku but was still a mess, he really wasn’t qualified to help someone else deal with their emotional turmoil. That wouldn’t stop him from trying though, he had a duty to his crew both as their captain and their friend.

Of course, there was still the possibility that his eye was fine or that the damage was superficial and something he could fix, but Law hadn’t made it as far as he had in life without learning to assume and prepare for the worst possibility. It was better to make plans now that he might never have to use, then end up in a situation that you were unprepared for.

As important as planning things out was though, it seemed he'd have to wait a little bit longer to do that. If the figure approaching his cell with a ring of keys was any indicator, it seemed things were about to get interesting.

[neverwatchedonepiece]

551-552: "The Battle Is On! At Conchchorde Plaza!" and "A Surprising Confession! The Truth Behind the Assassination of Otohime!"

I KNEW IT!!

I knew that scumbag Hordy was behind Otohime’s assassination! Oh, I only wish I’d been a fan while these chapters were being released so I could have made a bet with someone. Then again... everyone reading at that time probably knew too. I mean the flags were vast and red.

As soon as I saw the title for 552 flash up, I thought, “Yes. This is it. Hordy is gonna confess.”

Was not disappointed.

And that wasn’t all. The reveals kept coming. The circumstances of the assassination? Check. Madame Sharley’s family? Check. 30,000 hidden human slaves? Double check. Plus, I finally know what Noah is (yes, it is a “what” and not a “who”). And it is currently being controlled by Decken who has finally gone off the deep end.

Why Does Hordy Look Like He’s About to Judge Someone on a Talent Show?

Have to say, I forgot to mention something in the last post. Neptune brought up an inconvenient truth about the Fish Roids. Those rad pills that grant you super strength? They come packed with horrendous side-effects. Namely: they take years off your life.

Maybe that’s why Hordy has snow white hair now as well as a water shoot attack that can fell buildings and destroy royal army squadrons.

Episode 551 served pretty much to build Hordy’s threat potential as a villain. And boy it was done in quick time. By the end of 551, he had strung up Neptune, decimated the royal army, the royal ministers and had defeated all three princes.

I kind of hate Hordy’s guts right now, so it was nice to see the islanders so concerned for their beloved king, shielding children’s eyes as the execution convoy flew past. Neptune’s guard tried to take a stand, but Neptune told them to run, not to die a meaningless death. See, that’s the difference between a good king and Hordy (I refuse to call him a king. He ain’t crowned yet). Neptune cares for his people and they respect and care from him in turn.

At the plaza, Hordy’s Head Goons assembled. Brave islanders climbed the walls because they wanted to rescue Neptune. They had prime seats for the upcoming show.

By the time they had scaled the fence, Hordy had cleared out the royal guard and installed himself on a giant pink beanbag throne. Neptune was trussed up to a St Andrew’s style cross. No idea if there’s any symbolism there, but Andrew was called a “fisher of men”. Maybe it’s just the whole martyrdom thing. Being willing to die for the peaceful ideals of Otohime. Or maybe Oda just thought, “Yeah.... saltire crosses. That’ll do.”

One poor soldier tried to pull off a suicide attack. If he could just take out one of the Head Goons before the princes arrived, it would aid the rescue effort. But the merciless hype machine ground its gears and the solider became fodder for Hordy’s power up. 

It was an impressive power up. Just the normal water shoot bullet but ramped up to eleven. BOOM! It blasted through walls, buildings, rock formations and only lost momentum miles away at Mermaid Cove. I thought, “This guy really is a scumbag. He’s just wreaking havoc and destroying things because, lel, this is fun and I have the power now.”

Then the princes arrived. I finally remember all of their names! Fukaboshi, Ryuboshi and Manboshi. Better late than never. The spectators on the wall cheered. The princes were here! King Neptune would be saved! Hurrah! The princes declared, “WE WILL SAVE YOU, FATHER!”

I felt like Madame Sharly. I could see what was coming a mile off.

Fukaboshi, because he’s going to become king someday and be fucking excellent, gave another good speech. “Why don’t you understand, Hordy Jones? You people are the weakest on this island [Hordy was triggered by this]. The other islanders were trying to ignore the history of discrimination by humans and to forgive the murder of their hero and their queen who died at the hands of a human [oh, Fukaboshi...]. They endured their pain to change their future and sign their names. Why can’t you appreciate the boldness and kindness of their decision?”

Because he’s Fishler, that’s why. You can’t reason with Fishler types. You could say, “Well, remember that chap Whitebeard? He was an alright human, wasn’t he?” and a Fishler would shriek, “NO, HE WAS JUST PRETENDING! WHITEBEARD WAS FAKE NEWS!” Or, “Have you ever been to the surface, Fishler?” and they would reply, “NO, BUT I DON’T NEED TO.” (I think Hordy has because he’s a pirate, but the attitude’s the same).

I don’t know why they talk in caps. But 

Now, the annoying thing about Hordy’s goons beating down the princes was that those boys are actually no slouches. Were it not for the Roids, they could easily have kicked ass.

But Hordy claimed they would never lose, as the had been, and I quote, “given great power from above.” From above? As in the surface? Now that’s suspicious. Who has been supplying these Fishmen with Roids? I half expect Vegapunk to be involved somehow.

At any rate, the Head Goons showed their stuff. Roided up, they were faster, stronger and crushed the princes. And they were strung up alongside their dad.

And It Gets Worse

No, not just because of the crowd of Hordy’s followers baying for blood.

Back at the Sea Forest... the fight between Jimbei and Luffy had been off-panelled.

This, I think, is weird. We did not get to see Luffy in a mangled, defeated state. We never got to see Sanji, Nami, Chopper, Robin or Franky. All we heard was Jimbei saying, “Phew, he gave me a hard time,” before he escorted Shirahoshi back towards the palace.

Except that didn’t work out because they thought a balloon version of Neptune was the real thing and were netted and dragged off to the plaza. (I am suspicious of the lack of Luffy, so I kind of hope this is a roundabout scheme from Jimbei. Schemes wouldn’t work with Luffy but maybe Jimbei’s clever enough to steer him in the right direction and count on Luffy being Luffy to sort things out in the end).

Hordy was pleased at the special delivery of Jimbei, Shirahoshi and Megalo. Before that, he didn’t want to kill his hostages until Shirahoshi was lured to the plaza. It’s her power to call Sea Kings that he feared most and other than Neptune, she is the one he wants dead most. It was also the only reason he teamed up with Decken. (Now it makes sense! I thought Hordy only wanted a way into the palace.)

The poor audience of islanders on the walls, though... they were distraught. It was like a quadruple whammy of gut punches. First Neptune, then the princes, and now Jimbei and their beloved princess Shirahoshi. I mean, I’d wager Jimbei is almost as much of a legendary figure as Fisher Tiger nowadays. To see him brought so low must be truly shocking (still hoping it’s a ploy).

Now Hordy’s only concern is what the Strawhats will do. He guessed they’d return to the palace, free Zoro, Usopp and Brook. But he had some surprise guests waiting for them...

Yes, that’s right! 30,000 human slaves Hordy caught! Plus another 70,000 armed thugs (fodder for Strawhats). “One hundred thousand outlaws together!” he crowed. I guess this proves Hordy can perform basic addition.

I mean, there were a few female and child slaves along with the male ones, but they would be taken care of later. And I don’t think he means given a hot meal and a roof over their heads. :|

Madame Sharly Steps Up

This is when the episode got Extra Juicy.

Madame Sharly stepped up, spoke up and got Hordy so wound up he snapped and went completely off the rails in public.

“You fools are a dishonour. Horsing around in public. You kids have no class at all. Don’t push your luck. I just wanted to say one thing to you since you’re at the height of your glory: a man will destroy Fishman Island.”

“Wasn’t it me you saw?” Hordy said, modestly.

Bad news, Hordy. “No. The man who will destroy it is Strawhat Luffy. I can’t tell what he’ll do specifically. But it is not you. The one who will determine the fate of Fishman Island is not you, Hordy Jones.”

Well...

Let’s just say this news was not received positively.

As Madame Sharly is another legendary figure in Fishman Island, her not backing Hordy’s rise to power was disastrous PR. Even the goons were freaking out. “Omg, that means Hordy will never gain control of Fishman Island. Her predictions are accurate!”

The Hordy stepped up and slapped the crap out of Madame Sharly.

Forget what I said last post about not wanting Luffy to come and sort shit out.

Get down here now because this guy needs taken down a peg.

I was so enraged by Hordy’s obvious threatened response to Madame Sharly that when he revealed she was ARLONG’S SISTER (WTF??) I barely heard it and had to rewind and watch it again. He also bare face admitted to her he was only using the Arlong Pirates name to unite people under his banner. 

Properly triggered by Sharly’s lack of support, he went on a mad, Roid-Rant, yelling that HE was the ONLY ONE who could take over Fishman Island. His scheme is ten years in the making! He had the power to do it. ONLY HIM. OH, AND BY THE WAY, YOU KNOW THAT QUEEN YOU ALL LOVED SO MUCH?

I think this is Hordy’s biggest mistake. Some of you guys in the comments for the last post talked about Luffy sorting out Fishman issues not being a problem because would Hordy really have many supporters to resent Luffy?

After this, I am convinced he won’t have any. Because those islanders on the wall? They were enraged.

While Hordy had his villainous, “YES, IT WAS ME!” moment, a flashback revealed he did pay a human to be involved in the assassination. At first, I thought Hordy just paid the human pirate to shoot her. Was shocked but no surprised to learn that he hated Otohime so much that he wanted to pull the trigger himself. The human accessory only set fire to the petitions.

Hordy has gone so far off the deep end with the lack of Sharly support that he forgot that triggering Shirahoshi has geological scale consequences.

“Don’t you think she was annoying?” he said straight to Shirahoshi’s face. “She begged everyone not to seek revenge against humans but to be friends with them instead. She was bugging me because she’d almost accomplished her goal. I wasn’t satisfied with just killing her. [No of course you weren’t...] To me, your mother was someone who deserved death. I came up with the idea to make the best of her death, that would allow me to stoke the fire of hatred towards humans, that Fishmen citizens once had, and destroy the islanders’ stupid dream once and for all! I’d frame a human for killing her. You were all fooled exactly as I hoped. She was worth killing, right, Shirahoshi? She wasn’t killed by a human. She was killed by me. I, a kinsman, did it.”

I thought the earthquakes would start and the Sea Kings would begin, slowly, to stretch it out over several episodes, to swim towards Fishman Island. 

But no.

The twist was even better!

Shirahoshi turned to Hordy and said, “I already knew.”

WHAT THE---?

Honestly, I was as shocked as Jimbei. Even Hordy was dumbfounded. 

I cannot wait to find out how Shirahoshi knew. I mean, if she knew and didn’t tell anyone, that’s a pretty big ball to drop, you know?

Oh, and I forgot to mention this guy...

Decken: King of the Incels

This is some next-level creepy madness, let me tell you. Especially when the news only a couple days ago reported that some incel just shot up a yoga studio because “women”.

I mean, Decken has a neckbeard and is even wearing a Fedora. It’s like Oda had a vision of the future and turned it into a pirate because the reality was just too weird.

Anyway, Decken has also gone off the deep end, and has adopted a: “If I Cannot Have Her, Everyone Will Die” mindset. To achieve this, he has brought to life an ship called Noah built by Fishmen “a while ago” (hmm.... seems older than that, but I’ll run with it.

I’m half thinking Noah could it be one of those Pluton-like weapons because the ship is half the size of Fishman Island, apparently. Great for ramming into a protective bubble and killing everyone in it, eh? Woo hoo! What a great guy!

*whistles innocently*