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Instructions Unclear by Redjamberjuice
Fandoms: 별정직 공무원 | Special Civil Servant (Webcomic)
02 Oct 2025
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Summary
Blaming the effects on the devour nachal, Han Maru craves more. Seonwoo Eden helps him with the cravings.
Or, Maru wants Seonwoo to cum inside of him. -
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During the aftermath of Marineford, Luffy’s feral Alpha instincts bond to the nearest Omega in order to survive.
Law says nothing about it.He bears the bond alone for years, convinced Luffy’s closeness is instinct instead of affection, until the line between the two becomes impossible to ignore.
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Usopp has a plan.
Step one: become a Brave Warrior of the Sea.
Step two: survive the Grand Line.
Step three: absolutely, under no circumstances, be an omega.Unfortunately, life seems determined to ruin that plan.
After discovering his secondary gender, Usopp does what any reasonable future pirate would do: hides it with suppressants, scented oils, denial, panic, more denial, and a truly impressive amount of lying. It works perfectly. Mostly. Probably.
At least, until Enies Lobby happens.
Now the Going Merry is gone, emotions are running high, Robin is officially back, and Usopp’s carefully buried secret chooses the worst possible moment to explode into the open. Which would already be horrifying enough on its own, if it did not also involve three dangerously powerful alphas suddenly becoming very aware of him.
Still, Usopp refuses to give up.
Because if the world says omegas cannot become great pirates, then he is simply going to have to become the first Brave Warrior of the Sea anyway.
Bookmarked by ImperioRomano
24 May 2026
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Bookmarker's Notes
Curioso. Ussop omega va 3 alfas
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Zoro really doesn't want to talk about Thriller Bark and he can't think of a single good reason for why that is. So, altogether, this whole royally screwed up situation doesn't make much sense. Because Luffy sure as hell doesn't want to talk about Marine Ford either.
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“Hollander, you’re hot,” he says, blinking.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” he replies, chasing his lips.
When they kiss, Ilya feels the temperature of his mouth against his, the heat of his breath, how wet his forehead is. He pulls back, frowning.
“No, you’re too hot. Sick.”

