Rayleigh hadn't had much of a chance to process this change in his life.

He had been out to sea for the past year. It had been the first anniversary of Roger's death when he set out from Sabaody, and while the trip lasted longer than expected, Rayleigh felt that it was worth it.

He had joined up with the crew of an old pirate friend on a journey towards Fishman Island, where he learned how to coat a ship for the journey from a Sea Forest researcher. A bering wolf-fish merman named Dan.

It was important to learn a trade from the best of them, Roger would always say, and Rayleigh found himself agreeing now that he was on the cusp of retiring from piracy. Perhaps he had one more adventure in his bones, but he was soon to be done. Dan was likely the best coating mechanic in the world, and Rayleigh liked to think he was now in the same league as the merman.

His return to the Sabaody Archipelago was meant to be simple. Yet, simple is never as it should be for the former first mate of Gol D. Roger. His return ship was run asunder when it was pushed into one of the giant mangrove tree roots by a heavy current, and Rayleigh would have died if not for the aid of a young octopus fishman named Hatchan that just happened to be in the area.

Nobody could call Rayleigh an ungrateful man. Hatchan had been near Sabaody because he longed to see it properly, but could not enter the Archipelago on his own, what with the open slave trade offering high prices for fishmen.

So, Rayleigh offered Hatchen a small tour of Grove 13, where he and his wife lived in their bar. Rayleigh had missed her, and Shakky enjoyed children. Surely, this would be a good visit.

And it was, only it had more surprises could have properly expected.

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Hatchan had enjoyed the small tour of the Grove, but he was young and grew tired quickly. Rayleigh saw that it was getting dark, and felt it best to let Hatchan stay the night.

Rayleigh had missed his home. Shakky's Rip-off Bar, it said on a piece of wood that Rayleigh had stolen when Shakky mentioned an interest in owning a bar over two decades back. Back when she was married to another man, though Rayleigh was quite interested in her all the same.

Located right on the base of a mangrove tree trunk, and situated on the top of a high hill, it was a sight that brought a smile on Rayleigh's weathered face. The two story building looked a tad more run down than he remembered, but Rayleigh did not mind. This was a bar meant for pirates, and a pirate was not meant for a life of luxury.

Holding two of Hatchan's six hands in his own, Rayleigh opened the front door of the bar. He breathed in deeply, the smell of rum, blood and sweat heavy. There weren't any people inside, though whether that was because Grove 13 was out of the way or Shakky's prices were too high, Rayleigh did not know. He did not care, either.

"Welcome." Shakky's voice rang from the back. "I'll be with you in a minute." Rayleigh found himself grinning, and after sitting Hatchan down on one of the barstools and promising the lad a glass of juice, he made his way inside.

A year without his wife, and almost nothing changed. Her black hair was in the same bob cut, and her youthful visage the same as it had been for the past fifty years. The only thing that was unusual in her appearance was that she did not have a cigarette in her mouth.

He was one of the few that knew why she still looked so young, even though she was older than he was. She had consumed a Devil Fruit, the Made-Made Fruit, a Paramecia. Upon eating it, her body was effectively kept in stasis. She could still become injured, could still get sick, but she had been cut from the natural human life-span. There was no question in his mind that she would outlive him due to her power, so it only made sense to make the best of their time together.

Shakky turned to him, her impassive black eyes widening only slightly, and she looked as if she would have embraced him if not for the bundle in her arms. It looked like a strangely folded blanket, colored a dark grey, and it took Rayleigh longer than he would like to admit to learn that there was something inside the blanket.

No, not something. Someone.

The baby was new.

It was a tiny thing. Rayleigh could not make out its face, for it was buried into Shakky's breast, feeding calmly from her tit. But, he could see a small, pale hand gripping his wife's shirt and a small tuft of curly black hair on its scalp.

"Rayleigh." Shakky greeted warmly. "You've missed a lot."

She adjusted her shirt so that it covered her body once more, and turned the infant over so that Rayleigh could get a good glimpse of its face.

Fragile is not a word Rayleigh often uses to describe the people he interacts with, but there was no better word to describe this creature. There were no distinctive features Rayleigh could see that would differentiate it to other infants, but all the same it had pudgy cheeks that were a rosy pink, and was staring him down with watery black eyes.

Rayleigh didn't ask for permission, he simply grabbed the babe from Shakky's arms, and held it as gently as he could.

"His name is Walter." Shakky said, and Rayleigh found his heart skip a beat.

That, that was a good name. A great name. He had mentioned that if he were to have a son, he would name the child as such. Silvers Walter, in remembrance of his younger brother, who died before he could truly live. He had died in the fire that took the Silvers family home in Loguetown, and it was why Rayleigh was ready to leave. Roger caught him, just as he was leaving port, and Rayleigh found his younger brother replaced with a brother in all but blood.

Yet, Rayleigh never did imagine actually having a son. It was a fanciful dream, one that he thought up before he was a pirate. Before he tasted all that life had to offer. Before the name Silvers became hunted.

"How long?" Rayleigh finally asked, his focus still held on his son's pink face.

"He's five months old." Shakky shrugged, and Rayleigh quickly did that math. That meant he had left Shakky when she was two months along. He was not there for the birth of his child.

What kind of man did that make him?

"A retired one." Shakky said, staring him down with a raised brow. Rayleigh jolted, and realized only a moment later that he had said that aloud.

Mechanically, he nodded, and Shakky smiled.

"Now, I hear banging coming from the bar." She said, and now that Rayleigh wasn't focused on his son, he could hear it as well. Six different beats, working in tandem against the wooden counter. Hatchan must have been impatient for his juice.

Upon telling Shakky such, and then explaining who the fishman child was, she just shook her head and grabbed a pitcher.

"You owe me for making me give away a free drink. It'll cost you Ƀ100,000."

For once, Rayleigh did not argue when she tried to make him pay an exorbitant price over goods that he already owned.

She had given him something priceless in return, after all.

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It was three years later when the unusual occurred.

Life had been simple and complicated all the same, but the Silvers family were happy. It took time for the hardened Rayleigh and Shakky to adjust to their fragile creation, but they did as well as they could.

Yet, they knew they could not keep Walter away from their world.

He was raised in a pirate bar, and both of his parents were former pirates. It only made sense that piracy itself was an unavoidable part of his life.

They did not know how to tell believable stories meant for young children, and so decided to tell the true tales of their adventures. Perhaps that wasn't the smartest idea, but it was what they did in any case. They felt it silly to censor these tales, and so Walter learned the harsh truths of the world earlier than most.

Still, he was a good child. He learned quickly, and did not seem to ever intend to stop. Always interested in what was considered mundane, and constantly curious. Rayleigh remembered when he went fishing, and used a bubble bag to carry his catches home one day, only a few months back. Walter would not stop poking and prodding at the bubble bag, and it was then that Rayleigh determined that Walter's second birthday present would be a bubble making coral.

It was a strange gift, relatively cheap and only good for ten uses, but the smile Walter gave made it seem to be worth a fortune.

And yet, Walter's curiosity could be a painful thing to see.

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It was a lazy Sunday.

Rayleigh did not have any coating jobs lined up, and he wasn't feeling inclined to swipe some belli from the unsuspecting. There was nothing wrong with having a day of drinking and relaxing.

So, there he sat, in one of the booths of his bar, his feet propped against a table and his flask in hand, reading the morning paper. The bar was devoid of customers, as was the commonplace. Shakky was busying herself by flipping through a boating magazine with Walter in her lap, going over the letters on the pages.

Rayleigh wasn't certain if children that weren't even two and a half years old should be able to read yet, but he didn't much care. It just showed that Walter was a good, smart lad.

His ears twitched as the familiar pitter patter of a group ascended the steps to the bar. Shakky heard it as well, for she sent Walter over to an empty booth, magazine in hand.

The pirates entered the bar not a moment later, and Rayleigh saw that they looked like most others did. Large, tough and ugly. The largest, toughest and ugliest of the lot seemed to be the captain, if the cloak draped over his shoulders was any indication. A Jolly Roger of a smoking skull with a trio of bones in the background was displayed on his chest. It was a well done tattoo if nothing else, Rayleigh thought.

"Oi, nee-chan, give me and my boys some rum, and keep it coming." The captain rumbled, taking a spot at the bar.

"Coming up," Shakky said, a bland smile on her face.

There was little talk still, and that was only broken for a brief moment when the small group toasted their first round of drinks. Then they began to drink more, and the noise level raised appropriately.

A small fight began, between the captain and one of his crew mates, and it ended with a loud laugh and a spilled pair of mugs. Rayleigh watched Shakky, and winced at the murder in her eyes. She hated it when people spilled her drinks, and only would abate her fury when paid.

"Oi, boss!" one of the crew mates crooned, a bald man with buck teeth and little brain. He was staring right at Walter. "How much do you think that one'll sell for?"

Rayleigh had to fight the urge to pummel this man. Walter had been told early on what slavery was, and that it was prominent on Sabaody due to its closeness to Mariejois. But, knowing what it was and that it existed was a far cry from being involved, and the stricken expression on his son's face told its own story.

"Doubt he'd be worth much," the captain mused, swaying in his seat.

"What do you know about money, captain? You spent all the coin we made!" Shouted another crew member.

"I know enough!" The captain roared, standing and walking drunkenly towards the crew member that spoke. He didn't get far, and instead planted his face right into the floor with a groan. His body dissolved into a thick, murky substance when he hit the floor.

How rare it was, to see a Logia on this side of the Grand Line.

Shakky clicked her tongue, "I think it's time for you boys to leave."

That bald pirate that was speaking of Walter as a piece of merchandise leered down at Shakky. "Alright, nee-chan, we'll get outa your hair. Why don't you come with us? I promise, you'll have a good time."

Shakky just snorted and folded her arms, "Your bill is Ƀ450,000."

"That's ridiculous!" The bald pirate roared. "This was barely Ƀ30,000 worth of booze!"

He must be the one in charge of finances, Rayleigh thought as he tried to reign in his temper. That was a fairly accurate statement.

Still, that did not mean Shakky had to agree.

"My bar, my prices. Your bill is Ƀ450,000."

The crew looked ready to fight, but a cackle and a muffled scream brought them to heel. Rayleigh had been paying attention wholly to the encounter between Shakky and the bald one, and didn't notice the captain. He cursed himself, blaming old age for the slip up. What a fool he was, not to keep his Haki stretched around this lot.

Craning his neck, he saw the captain was not as passed out as he appeared. The mud on the floor that was the captain had moved positions while Shakky argued with the bald man, and circled Walter. The lad was sinking into the muck, and the captain laughed with a sick smile. Walters screams were screeching and painful, and the murky substance covered the boy's mouth quickly, muffling the noise. His eyes were tearing up and his face was red.

"It's no problem boys, we'll just call in a tab after we make a trip to the HAH." The captain lazily stated as Walter sank. "The starting price for a human is Ƀ500,000. Get a good price for the kid, have some fun with the misses… A good day all around, right boys?"

They crew cheered, and Rayleigh's eyes hardened. This had gone on long enough.

Quick as a whip, he shot out from his booth and ripped the muck Walter was sinking into apart with his bare hands, coated in Haki. The action caused Walter to fall to the wooden floors of the bar with a deep gasp of air, and spurred the large captain into falling over. The sound of gunshot rang through the establishment.

Rayleigh did not turn towards the heavy sound, for his Haki was being actively used this time, and he knew that it was Shakky that fired the gun. Bodies thumped to the ground from behind him, and Rayleigh placed his hand on his son's shoulder.

"Walter," Rayleigh said, his voice hard and his gaze trained on the Devil Fruit user. "Head into the back, and don't come out until I say so."

The child did not need to be told twice. He bolted past Rayleigh, stepping on the face of one of the downed men, and dove over the counter into a roll. Shakky was still at the counter, her gun smoking and her eyes bored. Closing the back-room door behind him, the sound of a lock clicking was quick to be drowned out by the large captain's rage filled roar.

Rayleigh was not impressed, even as a pair of sharp swords sprouted from the captain's hands, and his legs gave way to a wave of thick, foul liquid that spread through the whole of the bar. It was not nearly the most impressive ability he had seen, and the man did not seem to know about Haki. This wouldn't even equate to being a fight.

Rayleigh did know that Walter deserved a piece of candy, though; he hadn't known the lad could move like that. It was impressive, and the lad was nearing the age where he could lightly train.

"Now," Rayleigh said as the captain charged. "Let's begin."

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Huddled in the room where food was stored, Walter allowed himself to breathe out his relief. He knew his father was strong, in a league all his own, but even still, the helplessness that he felt just a moment ago stung.

It reminded him of what he used to be.

Before he was Silvers Walter. Before this fantastical world was his oyster. Back when he was a nobody, with no social standing and no achievements to speak of. Bland, boring. Another face in a crowd of bland and boring people.

Walter preferred not to think of what once was. This new life, unexpected as it was, was his escape from that dull existence.

Yet, here he was, huddled in the corner of a storage room. He knew he was young, he wasn't even three, but it still felt terrible to be in this position.

He knew that this world was not an easy place to live in, but he still made every effort to make due. Spending his days with his new mother, taking her attention away from her cigarettes and keeping his father company when he coated a ship, or fished, or lazed about.

It was a simple life, one where he just tried to make his parents happy. That was all that Walter needed.

But, reality had just crashed into him.

He was the son of Silvers Rayleigh, the Dark King; the first mate of the Roger Pirates. One of the most wanted men in the world. He would never be able to live a simple life, and his being a child would soon become a chore. His parents would need to protect him more and more, and he would become a burden.

Walter refused to become a burden.

This world was unforgiving. Slavery was abundant, piracy was the commonplace, the nobility were generally horrible and the law enforcement was oh so easy to avoid. Any crime could be committed, and the rule was that if you were the effected party, it was your own fault for being weak.

Walter is not stupid. He may not have been a particularly smart person, in the world that once was, but in the here and now, he is smart. He knows that this life cannot remain as it is, and he knows that he is lucky enough to be amongst people that can fix that.

The sound of a scream echoed past the locked door, and cut off just as quickly as it came. Walter didn't doubt that the screamer had just died. His parents may have been retired, but they were pirates, and they did not shy away from killing.

But, his eyes caught something moving on one of the fruit shelves.

Curious, Walter stood and looked inside. It was a hand of bananas, nearly ready to eat. The green was giving way to yellow slowly but surely.

Only, one of the bananas was doing no such thing.

It had shifted. Swirls were forming on it, and the banana began to change. It was still green, though not the green that the other bananas were colored like. It turned into a green that was more akin to the leaves of an old tree. Wispy tufts colored in a dull brown sprouted from the swirls, making the features of the fruit look like a dirt covered plant.

Walter did not know how this came to be, but he knew what it was. How could he not, when his parent's stories were of adventure and treasure?

A Devil Fruit had just spawned, right in front of him.

Walter was not sure if he believed in fate, but he did believe in a higher power. How else could he have been given a second chance in a world that was spawned from the mind of another man?

In his mind, there was no other way for him to be lucky enough to have a second chance. And, if this higher power wanted him to consume the fruit in front of him, then Walter would do so.

Gripping the Devil Fruit, Walter began to peel. The green and brown of the fruit's outer skin gave way to a black and purple inside. It looked bruised, and were it any other banana, Walter would throw it away for being old and nasty.

Instead, he took a large bite, and had to put both hands in front of his mouth to keep the substance down. It tasted terrible. A combination of soot, manure and vinegar that was both hot and cold, as well as overly sweet, sour and bitter. Unnatural, would be a good word to describe the taste of the fruit. Walter supposed that was another reason they were called the Devils Fruit.

Finally, he was able to swallow the foul fruit. It went down his throat painfully, feeling like wet concreate was being swallowed in its stead.

And then the door swung open.

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Rayleigh might not enjoy interrogating people, but there was no denying he was good at it.

The pirate captain, a man who called himself Dan the Deep, had come to Sabaody for the HAH; the Human Auction House. He did not have any wares, luckily enough, but he was confident he could find some on the Archipelago.

Sadly, that belief was not unfounded. Sabaody was home to the worst percentage of kidnappers and slavers in the whole of the known world, and this had only increased when Roger challenged everybody to find One Piece.

Dan the Deep tried to explain away, that he wasn't really going to sell the brat and that they could double up on auction, make a quick beri together.

Rayleigh did not need to hear anything else from this Dan the Deep. He simply killed the man. A quick and relatively painless Haki infused finger poke through the skull was all it took. Men that could not be redeemed, could not be reasoned with, did not need to taint the legacy that Roger left behind any further.

Shakky had finished on her end quicker than he did. She had been the sharp shooter of her crew, back when she was a pirate, and her skills had not dulled much. In the instant Rayleigh had freed Walter from Dan the Deep's grasp, she shot the whole of his crew. Some lived, some did not.

It mattered not, they were all dead by the end of it. She made sure to finish her work.

Since she killed more men, Shakky was on cleanup duty. That was their rule. A relatively simple job, she just needed to search the bodies for anything of value and throw them in the ocean afterwards.

Though, looking over at the muck covered bar and the apoplectic look that Shakky was sporting, Rayleigh decided that he would help her after he checked on Walter. To leave her on her own in this would not be smart, not in the slightest.

So, while Shakky looted their corpses and carried them out to sea, Rayleigh headed to the back room to retrieve his son.

Upon opening the door, however, he was greeted by a sight he had not expected to ever see.

Walter had just finished swallowing a piece of food. This was where they stored food, and so that was not an issue. It was expected. Food was a source of comfort, and Walter had just gone through some trauma.

But, in Walter's hand was a Devil Fruit.

Rayleigh had known that when a Devil Fruit eater died, the fruit would spawn into the nearest fruit of its origin. It was quite rare for a fruit to spawn nearby, and he remembered clearly that Roger had at least three types of every fruit they came across in storage. On the occasion, after a fight with a Devil Fruit user, when that enemy died, their fruit would then be reincarnated into the Oro Jackson's refrigerator. It wasn't necessarily common, but then again, neither were Devil Fruits.

It was through this method that Buggy received the Bara-Bara Fruit.

Yet, Rayleigh hadn't expected one of the fruit to spawn in his own damned house. Likely, it was Dan the Deep's fruit, since it was the only one that was nearby, unless one of his crew had their own ability.

Rushing to Walter and grabbing the boy by his jaw, Rayleigh pried his mouth open and dug his finger inside. He had intended to nudge the boy's uvula, in hopes that he would spit up whatever Devil Fruit he just ate.

Sadly, Rayleigh's hand just sifted through Walters mouth, digging past his neck. It felt like he was poking a finger through syrup. As he twisted Walter, he saw that his finger was poking through mud, not skin. The fruit's power had taken hold, and there was nothing that could be done for it.

Rayleigh sighed, feeling a new weight on his shoulders.

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Alright, info time. Silvers Walter. Rayleigh was based off a 16-century English explorer called Sir Walter Raleigh. I just snatched the other part of the name for my guy. I like to think its creative.

So, here's the deal. This is, once again, a Self-Insert. This time, instead of focusing on stupid comedy and general idiocy, I'll be giving this story its due. I don't have much of a plan for this story as of yet, I only know what direction it will go in as a general thought. All I can say is that this is going to be relatively based on Tsume Yuki's "Tell it to the Marines." She's an outstanding author, and if you haven't read her story yet, I highly recommend it.

I know I'm going to get a little bit of flak for giving Walter a Devil Fruit so early, but I want him to do well. The Numa-Numa Fruit, the Swamp Swamp Fruit, is a Logia. Yes, I know that this is Caribou's fruit. It also happens to be my absolute favorite Devil Fruit in the whole of One Piece. Caribou didn't get enough screen time to satisfy me, so I decided to just nab it. I figured that since he didn't have any significant role in the series, outside of being a minor antagonist in the Fishman Island Arc, that it would be fine. If I get this story to the part where Caribou shows up, I'll worry then.

Look up the fruit if you want, and you'll probably figure out why it's my favorite Devil Fruit. It's just- I love that power, and hopefully you'll all see why soon enough.

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