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aelincreativ · 1 year

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Promoting More of my Fanfic

Already did a post for my Avatar: The Last Airbender series so now I’m gonna drop my newer project!

https://archiveofourown.org/series/3275791

MindFull - Never Alone is a One Piece soulmate au that I first thought of about two years ago but never published.

In this series, those that had the Will of D, have soulmates. Soulmates can be platonic or romantic but the central pairing for the series is Law and Luffy romantic. (Side pairings are largely undecided currently and I’m willing to take suggestions!)

Soulmates share a mental connection where they can share emotions and thoughts depending on whether there is only one D in the pair of two. If both soulmates are D’s then the pair will be able to share complete thoughts from birth. If only one is a D then they will only be able to share emotions until they meet and have physical contact for the first time, after which they will be able to share thoughts in a limited range.)

This story will have influences of Luffy’s fruit being the Nika Nika as well as an idea some of my friends and I have about Law’s fruit that will come into play later on.

This fic series will deal with the full range of situations that Luffy and Law will encounter, this is a “Not everybody dies, some people live” type story, people are still gonna die but some won’t.

The current wordcount is only 6,000 but I have a lot of things planned out already throughout their childhood and how having their connection to each other will change things. (i.e. Makino being Luffy’s mom because Law told Luffy what a mom is, Luffy having a more defined relationship with Shanks, Luffy befriending Ace and Sabo quicker because he isn’t as desperate for the relationship and is more mature, and things like that.)

If you’re interested please give it a read and let me know what ideas you guys might have and what you think of the concept!

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velas-things · 2 years

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I b obsessively looking up soulmate aus bc I can't imagine any character I look up on here actually liking me 🧍🏻‍♀️

#bleach soulmate au #one piece soulmate #obey me soulmate #like fr i dont have many great qualities #im not that lovable #or smart #lmao #but i do got pull #so theres that

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nymph1e · 6 months

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One thing I really hope changes about the Live Action is Zoro's characterisation. Dont get me wrong, OPLA!Zoro is great, but he's WAY too Cool Guy at the moment.

One of the best things about Zoro is how from a distance he SEEMS like a typical anime Cool Guy but then as you go forward you realize that, no, he's an insane weirdo who shares a braincell with Luffy, specifically. And they lost said braincell somewhere in Shells Town.

He will SOMETIMES borrow Nami's, but she charges too much for him to be able to afford it often...

#one piece #opla #one piece live action #roronoa zoro #zoro #zoro live action #can be seen as #zolu #friendship ended with soulmates now all my friends are people who share a braincell #this is based off a message i just sent in discord

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paperultra · 5 months

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candy stripes.

Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5,048 words Warnings: Swearing, hospital setting [A/n: Soulmate AU. :)]

sortiger (adjective): delivering prophecies of the future; having the qualities of being oracular

Nobody else can see the string but you.

You wish you didn’t. It has no texture, no weight, so you can’t understand why it can’t be invisible too. But the string demands attention with every use of your hands, seizes your eye when you wash dishes in the morning and brush your teeth at night, a garish and bloody red that matches the stripes of your uniform.

You hate your string and you hate the color red.

Miss Xinyu, the old lady in Room 30, has one too. At least, that’s what she had told you when you gained the courage to mention yours one day, not knowing what it meant and how much you would come to dread it.

“It’s your red string of fate,” she had explained. “It connects you to the person who understands you more than anyone else in the world.”

In other words, your soulmate. Your one and only.

Miss Xinyu says you’re a lucky ducky, knowing what your future holds.

Her string goes into the ground now. You don’t think being reminded of a dead person whenever you look at your pinkie is very lucky.

The biggest reason why you hate the string so much, though, is because you’ve always had a problem doing what you’re supposed to unless you want to, which causes a lot of trouble for a nine-year-old girl. You already have trouble being nice to patients who are mean to you, so how can you love and wait for someone you’ve never met? It makes you feel icky.

Why can’t you choose? How come you have to have one at all?

Your only source of comfort is that your string is very, very thin and runs out of the hospital. That means your soulmate, whoever they are, is very, very far away. You’d very much like it to stay that way.

But it doesn’t.

—

Nurse Taoh wants you to watch the patients in Room 8 while he finishes his charts. You don’t really want to, if only because it’s Nurse Taoh asking – he likes to order you around more than Dr. Gu – but you don’t want to get into trouble again, so you go.

(… And okay, you are just a little bit curious about the new inpatients. You only know three things about them: one, they were brought in together last night while you were in your room poking holes into your paper instead of correcting it; two, they’re a man and a boy, presumably father and son; and three, everyone says it’s a miracle they’re still alive.)

(Then again, you’ve seen many miracles here.)

The unit is quiet as you walk down the hallway. Quiet, but not silent, as your polished shoes squeak like little mice against the floor and you whisper the room numbers as you pass by them. Two, four, six – eight.

You stop and knock, three sharp raps against the brown wood.

“Hello?” You open the door and poke your head in. “My name is –”

The squiggly-patterned curtain that often separates patients for privacy is drawn, and you clamp your mouth shut as you realize the patient closest to you is asleep.

Shutting the door silently, you creep closer to the foot of his bed. The man underneath the sheets lies quietly; he is little more than a skeleton, eyes sunken and bones sticking out underneath blistered skin. His beard is long and scraggly, but it pales in comparison to his mustache, each side braided and sticking out to the sides.

He looks angry, even though he’s sleeping. You hope he’s not the type to wake up and yell at you as you tiptoe past to check on the boy.

You pass the curtain, catch a glimpse of the bed sheets, and see –

Red.

Your feet root themselves in place, the room suddenly devoid of air.

You stare. Blink hard, twice. Look again. Then, trembling, you look down at your hand.

Your eyes trace the string around your own finger, following down to the dip of it that barely touches the ground and back up over the blankets until it ends in a red loop around the boy’s pinkie, tied off with a little bow.

Your stomach turns.

Stumbling forward, you make your way to the visitor’s chair in the corner. You slump down into it and stare straight ahead at the curtain, refusing to look at the boy’s face.

He continues to sleep.

You don’t want him to wake up.

—

The boy does not stir during your first meeting, but that small mercy is quickly eclipsed two days later by a single bowl of chicken broth.

The look on your face is sour as you walk down the hallway again, the broth splashing up against the lid with each step. Because most of the patients in the hospital you live in are elderly, the staff have somehow gotten it into their heads that you simply must spend time with the boy in Room 8 because he is your age and you need to socialize with other kids. You very much don’t want to. Not with him, at least.

Dr. Gu is just leaving the room when you arrive. She gives you a quick smile, the corners of her eyes wrinkling, and pats your head.

“So you heard that the boy woke up, huh?”

You grunt, looking away with a pout. “Can’t you give this to him, Dr. Gu?”

“Nope. I have to finish my rounds,” she says. “Go in and have a chat. His name is Sanji. You’ll like him.”

“I doubt it,” you mumble underneath your breath.

Dr. Gu probably hears you, but she doesn’t scold you, merely patting your head one last time before you enter Room 8.

The dividing curtain is drawn this time. The window curtains are pulled back, too; it’s a somewhat cloudy day outside, but bright enough to sharpen the shadows on the walls and make the boy look even paler than you remember.

His eyes are closed as you approach. A sprout of hope that he might have fallen asleep again blooms in your chest – you’ll just leave the broth on the table, you think to yourself, and go about the rest of your day. Nobody said you had to watch him drink it.

You get about five feet away, already planning to drop some books off to the other rooms, when the boy’s nose suddenly twitches.

His eyes open to thin slits. Your hope shrivels like a weed in the desert as he speaks.

“What’s that?” His voice is quiet and raspy.

Your eyebrow twitches. “It’s just chicken broth,” you say tartly, setting the tray down on the overbed table and turning it around so that it’s over his lap. You take off the lid and steam bursts from the bowl.

The boy reaches up to rub his eyes. The red string dangles from his pinkie, and you quickly look away with a scowl.

“Who are you?” he asks, scooting back to sit up more as he gradually becomes more alert.

Reluctantly, you give him your name. “Will you need help with the soup?”

He shakes his head. His gaze latches onto the contents of his bowl, and he stops, transfixed.

You scramble to stop him as he suddenly grabs the bowl and attempts to gulp it all down in one go.

“Don’t do that! You’ll throw up!” Without thinking, you seize his hands and pry the bowl away from his mouth. A few drops of broth splash over the blankets and his gown, and your irritation grows. Now you’ll have to fix that. “Drink it slowly.”

“I haven’t eaten anything for weeks,” the boy complains. “What do you know?”

“I’ve been studying medicine since I was a little kid,” you retort. “So I know a lot.”

He frowns. “You are a little kid.”

“I’m nine years old!”

“No, I’m nine! You don’t look as old as me!”

There’s no way this … this brat is the same age as you! Fuming, you let go of the bowl and jab a finger at his face. “I am nine years old and I know more than you! You can’t drink the broth like that!”

You’re met with silence. The boy’s eyes are wider than saucers. Pride wells up inside you at your ability to shut him up.

But then he puts the bowl down and seizes your hand, and your pride gives way to horror as he folds down your index finger and lifts your pinkie – the pinkie with the red string wrapped around it.

He lifts his own pinkie, the rest of his fingers folded. Your jaw clenches when you see how the string has shortened to mere inches, bridging the space between his hand and yours.

“Holy shit,” the boy says. The largest grin spreads across his face, and it’s blinding and scary and you hate it, you hate it. “It’s you! You’re my soulmate, aren’t you?!”

“No,” you reply quickly, whipping your hand behind your back and backing away. “No, I’m not!”

“But you see the string too! I knew I’d meet you some day. How come you’re”— he pushes the table away, eagerly but just gentle enough so no more of the broth spills—“how come you’re hiding it behind your back?”

“I’m not your soulmate,” you bark, panic rising in your chest. “Don’t you ever say that!”

You only catch a glimpse of the hurt that flashes across the boy’s face before you turn around and dash out of the room.

Mrs. Hong finds you in the storage closet later, curled up behind the shelves of gauze and IV tubing. She coaxes you out with a promise of rice balls and no questions asked. You wish all the adults were more like her.

—

The next day, Miss Jaylee hoists you over her shoulder like a human sacrifice and brings you to Room 8.

“I don’t want to see him! You can’t make me!”

“He’s refusing treatment and food unless he sees you,” the woman answers briskly, each of her steps jostling you up and down. “You don’t want to be responsible if Sanji dies, do you?”

“I don’t care if he dies!”

Miss Jaylee clicks her tongue and walks faster.

You flail, feeling a little guilty for your cruel words but too proud to take them back. Sanji couldn’t have heard you, anyway, and nobody here is going to let him die no matter what he does or what you say.

You hear a door swing open. Miss Jaylee walks into Room 8 and turns around, and you lift your head, glaring at Sanji as his face lights up and his cheeks turn rosy.

“[Y/n]!”

Your own cheeks burn in embarrassment at the position you’re currently in. This, you only now realize, is way worse than walking into the room voluntarily.

“How come they’re carrying you? Are you okay?” he asks.

“Let them treat you,” you snap, arms limp and dangling. “And eat your stupid food or I’ll get in trouble.”

“Okay.” You nod, opening your mouth to speak again only for him to continue, “But only if I get to talk to you afterwards.”

What is he, a prince?! What makes it so easy for him to demand such things?

“That wasn’t what you told them,” you protest, squirming, but Miss Jaylee only tightens her arm around your waist.

(“Be nice,” she warns. You growl.)

“It’s important,” Sanji stresses, looking pointedly down at his hand and then back at you.

You bite down on your tongue as the red string glimmers in the light.

Dr. Gu and Nurse Taoh stare at you expectantly. Your neck is starting to ache from craning it, and there’s a feeling that you’ll never stand on your own two feet again unless you do what he wants.

“… Fine,” you hiss through gritted teeth.

Only once you promise to stay does Miss Jaylee let you slide off her shoulder. You stand to the side, arms crossed impatiently as they take Sanji’s vitals and ask him some questions. He’s only half paying attention, head turning to look at you more than once, which you merely turn up your nose at.

“All right, we’ll leave you two to chat now,” Dr. Gu says. “If you need anything, just let [Y/n] know, okay?”

“Okay,” Sanji says.

With that, the three adults leave, and you and Sanji are left alone once more.

“I’m glad you came. They were starting to get mad at me,” he says, then cuts straight to the chase. “How come you don’t want to be my soulmate?”

“Because I don’t want a soulmate,” you immediately reply.

“But why? It’s nice, isn’t it? Being special to each other?”

“You can’t be special to me. We’re not even friends.”

For the second time, Sanji looks hurt.

“…We’re not?” he asks. You shake your head. “But … you brought me food.”

You’re befuddled. “Because Dr. Gu made me,” you say, trying to ignore the disappointment on his face. “Besides, I yelled at you yesterday. Friends don’t yell at each other.”

“I thought that you were maybe just really surprised …” His voice gets smaller and smaller. “Some people get mad when they’re just surprised …”

“I wasn’t surprised. I saw it when you were still asleep.”

“Oh,” Sanji mumbles. He looks down at the sheets, scratching at the wrinkle in the thin white fabric. “Okay.”

He says nothing more. You fidget, wondering if he’s pretending to look like he’s about to cry or if he really is trying not to. You’re not good with people who start crying.

You chew on your bottom lip. Sanji tucks his hand with the string on it underneath his bed sheets, his eyes disappearing behind his tangled hair, and fine, you feel kind of bad whether he’s tricking you or not.

“I’ll only be friends with you if you don’t talk about being soulmates,” you finally tell him begrudgingly. “Not ever, okay?”

His head shoots back up. “Really?!”

“Only if you don’t talk about it! I’m serious.” You huff at Sanji’s sudden change in mood and click your tongue. “If you stay sad you might not get better. Don’t get the wrong idea!”

He nods, grinning bigger than ever.

Oh, dear, you think as he promises that he’ll be a really, really good friend, you might have made a mistake.

—

By the fifth day, Zeff, the man who was brought in with Sanji, is awake.

You hear them arguing before you see them, pushing a cart of books for Sanji to browse through as per your agreement the day before. They’re loud, and Sanji calls the man an old shitbag right as you knock and push the door open.

“I’m here,” you announce, and the two quiet down to look at you. You give Zeff a polite smile. “Hello, sir. I’m [Y/n].”

“Hello, little miss,” Zeff says, his features softening from the angry expression he’d directed towards Sanji a moment before.

“Why are you being nice to her and not me?” Sanji pipes up from his side of the room, all puffed-out cheeks and petulantly crossed arms.

“Because she don’t make my ears ring with nonstop whining,” the man answers sharply. “Now get a book and read so I can finally have some peace and quiet.”

“You get a book and read,” Sanji grumbles.

“What was that, boy?”

You cut in before they start bickering all over again. “Do you want a book too, Mr. Zeff?”

Zeff’s gaze flicks over to you once more, and your shoulders tense. The man takes a deep, calming breath, and then he sighs, reclining back into his pillow and closing his eyes. “No, thank you, little miss,” he mutters. “Reading’s no good for my head right now.”

“Do you have a headache?” He grunts in affirmation. “Do you want me to get a nurse?”

“No, no, don’t need any of that.”

“You didn’t tell me you had a headache,” Sanji accuses.

Zeff’s mustache twitches. “All you need to know is that you oughta stop yappin’ when a man wants peace and quiet!”

(Not again.)

As you give up and walk over to draw the curtains, Sanji says your name desperately. “Can we read somewhere else?” he pleads when you glance at him. “I don’t want to be stuck in here with him right now.”

Narrowing your eyes, you appraise his weak-looking frame, pointedly skimming past the red string that snakes over to you. “Can you even walk around yet?”

“Yeah,” he says defensively. He wriggles out of the bed sheets and swings his legs over the side of the bed. Holding onto the side rail, he stands up and grips the IV pole for support. Though he’s a little shaky, he shuffles a few steps towards you and smiles when he manages to do so. “See?”

Well, you think, if you and Sanji stay here, you’ll need to have some light in order to read. But it will probably help Zeff if the room is as dark as possible, so if you guys go somewhere else, Sanji’s lamp won’t need to be on.

“Okay,” you agree. “Wait here. I’ll get some slippers.”

Ten minutes later, with Sanji shuffling along in his slippers, IV pole in one hand and your arm in the other, the two of you arrive at the common room and find chairs in the corner to sit down in.

“These’re mostly history books and stories for old people,” you explain as you pull out the one cooking-related book you could find from the top basket of the cart. “This was the only food one I could find.”

“That’s okay.” Sanji takes the book from you and begins to flip through it. “Oh, this one’s about seafood in the South Blue! Have you ever had any?”

“No.”

“Me, neither. I’ll try it someday, though … hey, this fish looks like a fried egg!”

Against your will, you perk up. “… Really?”

For the next half-hour, Sanji fawns over the spices used on grilled Sea King meat and how to cook wine clams and the best fish for South Blue-style sushi. And it’s … not boring. He doesn’t hog the book, and the pictures are cool, and he asks you which ones you think are the coolest or would taste the best. Looking at a book with another kid is different from reading with an adult. It feels like you’re sharing, not like you’re being tested on your comprehension or how to pronounce long words.

Hanging out with Sanji is okay when the string doesn’t sour it.

“So you want to cook all of these one day?” you ask after scanning through a full-color page of steamed Ocean Hawk feet.

“I want to cook things from all four seas,” Sanji says. His legs bounce with excitement. “That’s why I’m gonna find the All Blue.”

“What’s that?”

The boy glows.

“It’s where the North, East, South, and West Blue seas all meet. Think about it – fresh-caught fish from all over the world all in one place! I’ll be able to cook dishes no one’s ever cooked or tasted before.”

You’ve never heard of such a place. But Sanji talks about it with such conviction, such resolve, that you figure the All Blue could really exist.

“I hope you find it,” you say, and you mean it.

“I will.” Sanji closes the book. “And when I do, I’ll cook something just for you. A-As a friend.”

He peeks over at you, his eyes even brighter and bluer than before, his cheeks flushing a familiar red. And you find yourself believing him, just a little bit.

—

Sanji keeps his promise.

You know he still likes you (blech) and so does most of the staff (double blech). Nurse Taoh thinks it’s funny and teases you about your little boyfriend in Room 8 who always asks where you are. Mrs. Hong reminds you to be sensitive whenever you stop by to pick up meals. Dr. Gu tells you to tell her right away if Sanji ever does something that makes you uncomfortable.

But he never does. Sometimes his words spill out clumsily like a broken faucet and other times he blushes and stutters, leaving you to wonder what he’s going on about, but he doesn’t try to kiss you or hold your hand, and he doesn’t say a word about the red string that is very much still there. If anything, he just annoys you at times, with how nice he is to you and how sunny he gets when you eat lunch with him sometimes.

You’ve never seen somebody so happy to be in a hospital before, even if it’s just because he wants you to like him. It’s weird.

It’s on the eighth day of Zeff and Sanji’s stay that you learn not everything is how it seems.

You’d gotten in trouble the night before for digging holes in the garden – you had kept the seed from your dinner plum and wanted to see if you could make it grow, but Miss Jaylee had caught you while taking Mr. Hu out for some air – so you’re somewhat grumpy on your way to Room 8, two notebooks in hand.

One of them is blank for Sanji. He wants to record all the meals he’s gotten and write down how he would make them. The second notebook is full of your notes that you need to study for your quiz tomorrow.

Zeff is sleeping again when you enter. You move quietly across the room to where Sanji is lying with his back to the door.

“Sanji.” You can see his shoulders tense underneath the sheets, but strangely, he does not roll over to face you. “I have your notebook.”

No answer. That is even stranger.

Frowning, you walk around to the other side of the bed. Sanji moves to bury his face into his pillow, but not before you hear a very soft, wet sniffle.

“Sanji?”

“Sorry.” His voice is high and so muffled you can barely understand him. “You can just leave it on the table.”

“Why are you crying?” In the back of your head, you know it is not the most sensitive thing to ask. But for some reason, you need to know. “I won’t laugh or tell anyone.”

You hear another sniffle from the mop of blond hair. It takes a long time for Sanji to answer, but he eventually does.

“I don’t like hospitals.”

Your brow furrows. “Oh,” you say, somewhat surprised. Most people don’t like being in a hospital, you’re pretty sure of that, but you didn’t know Sanji didn’t like it this much. “Why?��

Maybe he’s tired of getting poked all the time, or the bland food, or the hospital smell. Nobody here can change that. Maybe he’s homesick. The hospital can’t fix that, either.

Sanji turns his head slightly and takes in a small, shuddering breath. “’Cause it … it makes me remember my mum … when she was sick,” he mumbles, almost too quiet to hear.

“… Oh.”

You had assumed, upon learning that Zeff and Sanji were not at all related, that Sanji was like you and never knew his parents. He’d never talked about having any before, only his time on the Orbit and with Zeff. But he does know them – his mother, at least. And she was sick. The memory is what’s making him so sad, and it’s yet another thing that the hospital can’t help.

You don’t want him to be sad. You did make him your friend, after all, even if he does annoy you sometimes.

“I’m sorry,” you say, standing awkwardly with his notebook still in your possession. You remember what Miss Jaylee has told other patients before. “That, um, must have been really hard for you.”

Sanji squeezes his pillow more tightly.

Should you go? Should you talk to him some more?

“Please don’t tell anybody,” he whispers before you can decide. “Especially Zeff.”

“I won’t,” you reply firmly. “I said I wouldn’t, didn’t I?”

“I’m sorry I can’t hang out today. I really wanted to, but, um …”

“It’s okay. We can do it later.”

“Okay.”

You set his notebook and a pen on the bedside table. After some thought, you refill his water and, after even more hesitation, fix the bed sheets on him a bit so they’re not as twisted up. That is the best you can do.

The red string follows you as you quietly leave Room 8, and you don’t think about it at all.

—

“How do you spell necessary?”

“N-E-S-E-S-A-R-Y.”

“That doesn’t look right. I think it’s S-S-A-R-Y.”

“Maybe you can find it in the book,” Sanji suggests, kicking his feet as he lies on his belly next to you.

“Yeah, maybe.” You flip through the pages of your textbook, searching for the correct spelling lest you get marked off again.

It is the tenth day. Sanji is doing alright, and Zeff is up and about with his new leg. Dr. Gu says they’re good to go, so they’re leaving after Zeff finishes breakfast. You’re not sure how to feel about it.

In the meantime, Sanji is helping you with your essay about scurvy. He knows quite a bit about it, which makes sense since he’s lived at sea, and you hope the perspective he’s supplying will impress Dr. Gu.

(“That’s why every ship needs a good cook,” he tells you proudly. “We make sure everyone eats right so they stay healthy.”

“That’s why you and Mr. Zeff are going to have a restaurant ship, right?”

“Mmhm.”)

Sanji rests his face in his hands, cheeks squished against his palms while you continue to scan through your textbook. You finally find the word in a photo caption and, with a triumphant noise, jot it down correctly.

Someone knocks on your door. The two of you turn to face it simultaneously.

“[Y/n]?” It’s Mrs. Guo.

“Yeah?” you call, already slightly irritated.

“Is Sanji there? It’s time for him to leave.”

A frown presses down on your lips. Sanji sighs and gets up as slowly as possible, taking his notebook with him.

“Coming,” he says.

The two of you dawdle on your way to the hospital entrance. You pet Cabby the dog when you run into him and his handler and stop by the kitchen so Sanji can thank the cooks. There’s no rush, not really, but an uneasy feeling continues to well up in your stomach anyway.

Upon arriving at your destination, Zeff waiting at the double doors with a giant bag of treasure slung over his shoulder, Sanji stops and turns to face you.

“I’m – I’m going now,” he says, as if just realizing it.

“Okay,” you say.

You and Sanji stand in silence for a moment before Sanji’s bottom lip starts to wobble.

Yours starts to wobble too. The uneasy feeling in your stomach bubbles up into your throat and behind your eyes.

“I’ll write you,” he blurts, voice cracking. “You’ll come visit, won’t you?”

“I don’t know.” You don’t know if they’ll let you. The hospital is busy and the ocean is big, bigger than you, and you don’t know it at all like Zeff and Sanji do. “But I’ll write back.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

You are crying now.

For the first time, your arms wrap around Sanji, and he clings back as both of you bawl. Your tears and snot stain the shoulder of his brand-new clothes. Your uniform grows damp at the collar. It doesn’t matter at all.

“I don’t know if I’ll see you again,” you croak into his shirt, face hot and eyes blurry.

His grip tightens. “You will,” Sanji replies in between sniffles. “I know it. Even if it’s when we’re really old, we’ll see each other again.”

“Okay.”

You believe him. Not because of fate, but because you want to.

—

You write to each other every single week for the next ten years. You tell each other everything.

Well, almost everything.

—

“You seem nervous,” Nami says. “Don’t tell me a little bribery got under your skin?”

“No, no.” You wipe your hands on your thighs and try to relax against the back of the booth. “Just … not used to places like this, that’s all.”

The Baratie is nicer than you imagined. Sanji had kept you up to date over the years, sending newspaper clippings and recipe drafts as the restaurant he and Zeff founded grew in staff members and reputation, but seeing it in person is a whole different deal. You’re telling the truth when you said you’re not used to a place like this.

But it’s not why you’re nervous.

“Hey, look!” Usopp exclaims, pointing across the room. “I think those guys are gonna fight.”

The rest of you look. Near the kitchen, two men are arguing, and the pink-haired man sitting at the table stands up when the pirate shoves his food onto the floor.

Usopp sucks his teeth. “Yikes.”

Luffy leans forward in interest. Zoro simply stares, and Nami rolls her eyes.

One of the waiters approaches them. You watch as he tries to deescalate the situation, but neither party is having it.

The pink-haired man draws a gun.

Within seconds, the gun and both would-be brawlers are on the floor.

The waiter shoves his foot into the pink-haired man’s back to keep him down, then picks up the plate of bread rolls again, stepping over both groaning bodies with the ease of one who’s done it before.

He reassures the other customers as he approaches your booth. You’re not concerned about the fight so much as you are about the way that you know.

It’s been ten years, but you just know, even before he gets close enough for you to see the red string that trails up and disappears into the black of his pants pocket. Even before you see the blue of his eyes and the annoyed set of his brow, exactly the same as you remember.

He places the rolls down onto the table, and for the first time, you wonder what you want.

“Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambience is the food. My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?”

#aesthetic words prompt list #opla #one piece #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #opla sanji #one piece live action #opla fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #fem!reader #soulmate au #woefully inaccurate portrayal of patient treatment and progression of recovery i'm sorry #usually i'd be more of a stickler but this is one piece where people don't die after 85 days eating nothing but their own leg #zeff and sanji definitely aren't ur typical patients anyway even in the opla universe lol

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assiraphales · 3 months

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sometimes when I step back from ships and look at them objectively i end up thinking to myself l “ok. yah. I was reading into it too much” but for luffy and zoro it’s the opposite. actually no one (myself the dudebros and all my fellow shippers included) are not being insane enough. let’s take it up a notch. maybe twenty

#zolu #one piece #roronoa zoro #monkey d luffy #because they’re casually existing out there as practical soulmates. what the FUCK!!!!!

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chibieggplant · 11 days

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Trafalgar Law ~ Doodles ~ Part 1

Trafalgar Law soulmate au | Imagine a magical connection between you and your soulmate, where everything you write on your arm appears on your soulmate's arm, too.

Fluff? A bit of angst? Idk what this is. Probably trash. Happy ending tho.

Part 1/3 | Part Two

Law was in the middle of writing medical journals on his research when he suddenly stopped, noticing something in the corner of his eye. He looked down at his forearm where a doodle of a tiny mushroom was slowly disappearing. He was used to the little doodles appearing every now and then, and like always he shook his head and ignored it as he went back to his writing.

The mushroom disappeared completely but not even a minute later another doodle appeared. This time, it was a little frog. And just as Law was about to continue writing he watched as the doodle begin to disappear. “How childish” he muttered to himself. He had no interest in finding his soulmate, he reminded himself again that he is far too busy and the very concept of someone being out there just for you was foolish.

Yet despite Law's attempts to focus on his work, the doodles kept reappearing and disappearing. They started to annoy him since they kept distracting him from importer matters. With a sigh he yet again reminded himself that there was no point in even entertaining the thought of his soulmate since that person would no doubt eventually be dragged down by all his troubles. He focused his eyes on the paper in front of him, once again attempting to ignore the doodles appearing on his arm.

Everyone in the four seas grew up knowing the concept of finding your soulmate. You remember being told as a young girl that if you write a message on your arm, someone out there will be able to read it and they would write back. You were so excited the first time you wrote a message, you couldn’t help but wonder what your person would be like. What are they going to write back? Will they be funny? Maybe they are really smart? What do they look like? Where are they from?…The very thought of having someone out there destined for you was so exciting, it was like having a best friend made exactly for you! So when no reply appeared on your arm you thought, maybe they are asleep right now? Or maybe it disappeared before they noticed it? But when days grew in weeks, into months, your disappointment grew immeasurable. Were they okay? Did you just not have a soulmate?

Law was no exception to the belief that everyone has a soulmate. He knew the concept. He just had no desire to find his soulmate in the first place. Because of his past record, because of his past, because of…him, he feared he would only be a burden to some poor girl out there. And if he ever did find his soulmate, he believed they'd eventually just be dragged down with his problems. So he decided to ignore the concept entirely. He decided to ignore the scribbles that kept appearing on his arm and after a while his soulmate stopped writing messages. Only to be replaced by silly doodles instead.

And the same happened today, more silly doodles appearing and disappearing. Law decided to continue with his work, shaking off the occasional distraction, he was more used to it by now. Though it was still annoying every now and then. Just as went to grab his coffee mug he noticed a small doodle of a bear which involuntarily caused him to give a small smile.

And for a brief moment, he allowed himself to believe he was deserving of a soulmate. Just a brief moment, a mere thought. He immediately shook away the smile, trying desperately to avoid any feeling of sentimentality. He had more important things to do than to think about a silly concept.

You gave up a long time ago writing to your soulmate. You told yourself that you probably didn’t even have one. And if you did they never wrote back so why bother? Sometimes for fun, or when you were bored you would draw little doodles on your arm…no, deep down you knew you did this just in case. Just in case they did exist, maybe you could make them smile or remind them that you were still out there.

The doodles that have appeared so far today have all been silly. A little mushroom, a badly drawn frog, multiple flowers, some squiggly patterns and the little bear. The bear was…kind of cute? He thought for a second before he ran his fingers through his hair and attempted to collect his thoughts. He needed a break. Soon he’d be traveling with the Strawhats and he needed to complete his plans.

Fast-forward

Today was the day he would temporarily part with his crew, keeping them safe while he completed his upcoming mission. Law scans through his notes as he walks to the Sunny wanting the ensure he was fully prepared, or at least as prepared as he could be when dealing with the Strawhats. He notices another doodle appear, this one depicting a little bee. He chuckles briefly and shakes his head. It just seemed so silly. Do they have nothing better to do?

However, the fact that his soulmate drew doodles like that made Law feel oddly warm...just for a moment, just the briefest moment. He was surprised with how much a little doodle could brighten up his day. He smiled to himself before it even crossed his mind. And just like that, his warm feeling was instantly replaced by his usual cold-hearted persona. He needed to get on the damn ship, there were more important things to do than to keep staring at his stupid arm. And so, with some grumbling, he made it onto the ship. After a few hours he noticed the doodles had stopped appearing entirely, maybe his soulmate had given up. Maybe they'd simply gotten bored. Either way, it didn't matter. His sole responsibility was to get through this next mission. Nothing else mattered.

The next few days were rather busy as he attempted to plan and research around the chaos of the strawhat crew. No little doodles had appeared on his arm since he got on the ship. He didn't mind at all, if anything, he enjoyed having his arm free from the distraction. Law was finally able to have a few minutes in peace and quiet. Despite telling himself this multiple times he couldn’t help but occasionally glance at his arm. For some annoying reason the lack of silly flowers and bears appearing was starting to bother him.

He would never admit it but with each day that went by without seeing a stupid cat or a silly frog made him feel, sad. The silence that the lack of doodles had left almost made him feel lonely in a way, he hated it. He didn't understand why it bothered him. The doodles were nothing but stupid, insignificant scribbles. Yet somehow, his day just seemed to feel empty without them.

You didn’t know Law all too well but you knew that Luffy considered him an ally, a friend, which was good enough for you. Luffy told you he was a bit grumpy but a good guy who would help us. The first time you ever spoke to law he explained Despite their differences and how often they disagreed, he could admit they had built a certain level of trust...but he'd still punch Luffy if he tried anything funny though. You noticed Law standing out on the deck looking even more annoyed than usual as he looked out at the sea.

Law was leaning against the railing of the ship as he observed his surrounding with a frustrated expression. The seas were calm and the breeze was gentle, his mood was not. He was irritated. It made absolutely no sense. He had more important things to think about. Like...the mission at hand he told himself. The longer he thought about it, the more he started to get the impression his soulmate had obviously given up for good. This was the longest they had gone without drawing anything. He was actually becoming quite miffed about it. Why would they suddenly stop? Of course, that thought made him feel rather dumb because it’s not like he ever wrote back…but still, it made him oddly annoyed. He was actually starting to get jealous. Maybe someone else might have caught his their eye. Maybe they didn’t have time anymore? Law shook his head furiously to try and force that nonsense out his head.

You made your way over to Law, maybe he just needed some company? It must be hard being on an unfamilar ship, maybe he misses his own crew?

Law looked up as he saw you approach him, he didn't seem particularly pleased. In fact, he barely looked pleased at all. However, when he saw it was you he looked like he was forcing himself not to seem annoyed. He even made an effort to loosen his expression a bit. Though he was still visibly irritated, he tried his best not to snap "If you need something, what is it?"

You chose to ignore his irritated tone, he’s definitely not in a good mood. “Just thought you could use some company? Must be hard being away from your crew”

Law was about to snap at you but he held his tongue. Maybe he was being too harsh. Perhaps he was letting out his frustration on you, which wasn't fair. Instead, he attempted to soften his reply, though the fact that he was in a bad mood made the reply sound annoyed. "I'm fine. I just have a lot of important things I have to do”

“Like stare at your arm every two minutes?” you softly chuckle.

Law paused for a moment. His expression immediately darkened after he realized you noticed him doing that. He was caught red-handed. And he did not like it. He let his annoyance show, as he sharply said..."What of it?." He immediately cursed himself for letting his annoyance get the best of him. He was trying not to take it out on you, but he had just done the exact thing he tried not to do.

Again you chose to ignore the blatant annoyance in his tone and asked simply “Are you waiting for your soulmate to write back?” you asked curiously.

Law's eyes narrowed a bit more when you said the word "soulmate". However, you were right. He had been doing just that, although he would never admit it at the moment. "It's...it's nothing”

“I’m sure they will write back” you smile reassuringly. “is that what has you so grumpy?” You add with a playful smile.

“I’m not grumpy” He quickly grumbled. "And as for my soulmate, I assure you, I do not care if they write back or not. And for your information, they haven't written a thing in days, so I am certain that they don't have time to write anymore. In fact, I am certain that they will never write back. If anything, I have been enjoying the silence." He was trying way too hard to put on a stubborn front. He crossed his arms, attempting his best to act like he didn't care. However, it was a poor attempt. He cared a lot, and he wasn't sure what to do. Why was he so miffed about it? He was trying to be rational and suppress his emotion but he was failing miserably. If only they would just write back. There was also the fact that he was feeling strangely lonely because the doodles had stopped appearing. He was actually growing quite attached to them, despite being fully aware of the irony of the fact he himself has never written a single thing.

“Uh huh…” despite his outburst it was pretty clear that he did in fact care. “Well at least your soulmate writes back at all” you mumbled with a hint of a sad tone.

"...What do you mean by that?" there was an almost accusative tone in his reply. As if he was trying to pry at you. This was a great chance to distract him from his own misery.

“I mean that at least you have a soul mate to write back…I don’t even have one” you let out a small laugh in attempted to cover up your depressive words.

Law paused for a moment when you mentioned not having a soulmate. He didn’t want to pry too much as he felt you didn't want to go into detail, yet he decided to humor your statement. Law sighed. “How do you know you don't have a soulmate? Maybe they're just really slow with their writing."

“Yeah because I’m sure it takes them years to come up with something to say” you deadpan back.

Law couldn't help himself and he let out a soft chuckle at your humour. As he returned to his usual self, he spoke again. His tone was sarcastic as usual and he raised an eyebrow. “You should be glad that you don't have one. Having a soulmate seems to cause more headaches than joy at times." Law continued to observe you, noticing that his little comment left an impact on you. Your body language instantly changed and your cheerful demeanor quickly vanished when he made his comment. He had inadvertently struck a chord.

“Hmm…maybe” your attempt to go and cheer Law up was quickly crushed as you were reminded that you didn’t have a soulmate, or at least one who wanted you. You tried not to think about your soulmate never writing back to you but when you did it just made you…sad.

Law immediately noticed the tone of your voice instantly dropped the moment you spoke. It was evident that his statement bothered you. Though he didn’t show it, he felt somewhat guilty about having said that. What a fool he was, he had been trying to lighten the mood by saying that it isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be, but all he did was be insensitive...and there it was, again. That sinking feeling that he was doing something wrong.

“Anyway dinner is in about an hour so…if you excuse me I have some work I have to do” you put on a smile as you excused yourself.

Law was still deep in thought when you gave your excuse and left. As you walked away, the sinking feeling grew in his chest. He had messed up again, he was too insensitive. He should have realised that his little comment would bother you, especially considering the fact that you never heard back from your soulmate. He should have been more considerate. However, he was so preoccupied with his own feelings that he hadn’t even considered your feelings. A new sense of guilt also washed over him as he thought about that fact he never replied to his own soulmate. Was there was another girl out there feeling sad like you? Thinking that they don’t have a soul mate just because he’s too stubborn to write back.

Law sighed and walked away as well. What a fool he was. Soon he was back with the rest of the crew and he was already being bombarded by Luffy’s shenanigans. Law had no choice but to keep it together. He was going to get through this mission and then he'd deal with his feelings. Because after all, feelings are nothing more than a distraction.

#one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader #soulmate au

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short-honey-badger · 7 months

Text

Phantom Pain

Little soul mate au where they feel each other's emotional and physical pain.

Warnings! A lil bit of angst and a lot of possessive Shanks cause I just can't help myself. Enjoy!

Masterlist

Phantom Pain Masterlist

Soulmates. Just the thought of them disgusted you. What good did it do anyone in this world to have someone else's pain and trauma to worry about? The joy of meeting your other half just wasn't worth all the hurt one had to go through, in your opinion. Yours certainly did nothing but cause you grief. Hangovers that weren't yours, to wounds from swordfights and shootouts. The worst had been the day your other half had lost his right arm.

Even now, almost a decade later, that phantom pain lingers, and with it, the guilt that isn't yours that eats away at you every time you acknowledge your soulmate. You ignore it the best you can, hell, you would be happy to never meet whoever they are. And you make sure to let them know that, too, with your own frustrated feelings. However, life had rarely been kind to you, and it wasn't going to stop tonight.

You know the moment you step into the only open tavern in the sleepy little town and see the red-haired man with a black cloak on at the bar, that tonight would be it. While he is covered, you can still tell that there is nothing on his left side and your arm aches something fierce. You debate with yourself. You could run away before your possible soulmate noticed you, or you could put on your big girl panties and go order a hot drink like you had planned.

You shiver violently, and the decision is quickly made. With a world weary sigh, you hang up your wet overcoat and then casually cross the room to sit at the bar several spots away from the one armed man. You order your drink and see out of the corner of your eye him staring at you, but you stay looking forward even when you notice him scoot down to the seat next to you.

Shanks stares at the person who had come into the bar, dark gaze curious. He'd felt you the moment you had walked into the bar, all angry emotions and swirling frustration directed right at him. Even through the negativity, the Yonko was desperate to know if you were the one. And he knew the fastest way to figure that out.

The grin that splits his face is full of glee and victory as you yelp loudly when he pinches the meat of his thigh. You whip around to glare at him, eye alight with indignation, but Shanks looks like the sun and moon just fell in his lap, "Found you," he says with a teasing tilt to his voice, "I've looked for you a long time, ya know that?"

You scoff at him and loom away to take a deep sip from your cup, "And I've been running," you quip meanly. Why? Why did he have to do this ro you now of all days? All you wanted was a nice evening to yourself, and of course, your soulmate seems obnoxiously good spirited.

Shanks laughs, and you can feel his merriment and joy at finding you. Your body desperately wants to act as well, but you fight down your biology and tell it to shut up and stay down. You've faught against this your entire life. You couldn't break now.

"I know," he says, and his words make you look at him with narrowed eyes, "I'm a dangerous man, Sweetheart. I know I've caused you a lot of pain, and I'm sorry about that."

You have to turn away from him with how genuine and soft he sounds. You drink deeply again and then set your mug down with a click. You've felt his guilt before, but having words go with it made you break just a little more.

"Well. Thanks for the apology, at least," you murmur and then tense when you watch him get off the stood. He circles around you and presses his front to your back. Despite yourself, your body relaxes, as if it knows that this man is meant for you. His one hand grips your hip, thumb moving to stroke the your skin under your shirt, and you shiver unintentionally.

"I plan on making up for it," he says casually and leans forward to bury his face in your hair, breathing in your scent. You smell like the sea and something else unique just to you. He can't get enough of it.

"I don't plan on sticking around," you tell him and shift to try and get away from the man, but the obvious pirate only tightens his grip on your hip.

Shanks laughs again, but it isn't a very nice sound this time, "Sorry to burst your bubble, Hon," he whispers, and you shiver at what he says next, "You don't have much of a choice this time," the Yonko waited long enough to find you, he wasn't about to let you go now.

He leans around you, hand leaving your hip to grasp your chin, and a kiss is bestowed on your lips, soft as a daisy, "Name is Shanks, by the way. What's yours, Sweetheart?"

#fanfic #one piece #reader insert #red haired shanks #shanks #shanks x reader #shanks x y/n #shanks x you #soulmates #alternate universe #fluff #angst #soulmate au #opla shanks #phantom pain

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themirrorghost · 6 months

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I can't write for the life of me, but I've just thought of a tasty soulmate-fic premise (romantic or platonic!):

When their eyes are closed, a soulmate can see what their other half sees.

Whether it's super clear, or just impressions, or perhaps the more one stares at something the clearer it gets, just imagine the potential.

Soulmates taking turns to close their eyes and communicate through notes to find eachother. Soulmates who know when the other's fallen asleep because it's completely dark on the other side. Soulmates who can't sleep because their other half is somewhere way too bright and have to write passive-aggressive notes asking if they could "please turn the lights down!" Soulmates who are bored and would rather watch the others everyday life, no matter how mundane. Soulmates who's friends and/or family make fun of them for zoning out to watch through their other halves eyes instead of paying attention.

And then, on the other hand? The angst potential is delicious-

Soulmates who are so desperate to stop their other half from knowing that they wear a blindfold, or straight up blind themselves, to prevent it. Soulmates who hate the thought of someone intruding on their private lives, whether they're meant to be together or not. Soulmates who have terrible home/work lives and hope against hope that their other half doesn't find out or worse. Soulmates who are abused or get into fights often, trying their damnedest to protect their eyes above all else. Soulmates who's eyes are damaged, accidentally or otherwise, terrified of the thought that their other half won't ever be able to find them.

There are so so many ways you can swing this:

One soulmate afraid that their other half had died, having never been able to see through their eyes. Their soulmate was born blind, and managed to see things they thought they never could/would thanks to their soulmate.

Soulmates that met during childhood, living their lives as a whole, using their connection for simple, silly, domestic reasons.

Familial soulmates! Twins who aren't quite psychic but know what the other is doing all of the time. Siblings who are stuck with eachother and pretend to hate it, but are secretly glad they'll always have the other. Found family where it feels like they've always had the other and are impossible to separate.

Long-distance soulmates, teaching eachother about where they were born/grew up, showing eachother things precious to eachother.

Daytime Vs Nighttime soulmates who are barely ever awake at the same time, treasuring those in-between moments.

Soulmates with nightmares, one waking up in a panic, blinking hard and trying to calm down as quickly as possible. The other getting glimpses of the aftermath as they blink, perhaps rushing to their side if they can, comforting their distressed soulmate.

College/University AU soulmates knowing too much about their other halves area of study. Writing eachother notes to go to bed or to eat when they both forget and stay up studying way too late.

Assassin/Spy AU soulmates, using their bond to complete their missions as effectively as possible. Or perhaps the assassin/spy's soulmate is their target. Especially tasty if you throw in undercover work.

I could write a million of these prompts-

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shima-draws · 1 month

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Currently in the middle of reading a Lawlu soulmate fic and it’s SUPER cute so far but the best thing is that Law is also Cora’s (platonic) soulmate, and Cora’s got the ‘You won’t see in color until you meet your soulmate’ kind of bond. Except it fluctuates depending on Law’s health, and Law runs purely on caffeine and spite, so Cora will text him being like “Hey. For some strange reason I currently cannot see the color red. Would you happen to know anything about that” and Law is just like “Uhhh. No??” and Cora’s like “Law I swear to GOD you’d better stop pulling all nighters do not make me come over there” LMAO

#I LOVE this concept so much oh my godddd #Cora’s ability to see in color all dependent on Law #So he’s got a RADAR. He KNOWS when Law isn’t treating himself well #Cora: Can currently only see in pastels. Law.#Law; sweating: In my defense I HAD to be up all night. Okay??#Cora: EXCUSES!! GO TO BED!!!!!!#FNNSNFNS #It’s called ‘Not a Ball or a Chain’ btw!!#I really love the concept they’re exploring too of like. Not WANTING a soulmate. Not wanting that bond to be romantic #Bc I know a lot of people’s gripes with soulmate AUs revolves around forced destiny and characters HAVING to end up with each other #Idk I just like it 👉👈#One Piece #Lawlu #Also the idea of platonic soulmates makes me soooo happy #Law and Cora are absolutely platonic soulmates 🥺#Shima speaks

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