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turtletaubwrites · 3 months

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A Good Catch ~ Part 1

✨600 Followers Fic Celebration!✨

I am so grateful for all of you! This has been such a wonderful time, and having all of you around to nerd out with, and to share my writing with is the best! Shanks won the poll for the next x Reader fic, and I hope you enjoy it!

Pairings: Shanks x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4367

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (End)

Ao3 Link

Summary: You are an unlucky fisherwoman having a bad day, until a red haired pirate captain offers to help you out. You're pretty sure he only makes it worse.

Rating/Warnings: 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Angst, Teasing, Flirting, I feel like there's some romance tropes I could tag, but I usually just write smut, so please let me know what silly tropes I have in here 😅

A/N: I am having so much fun with this one! I'm doing my best to keep it to 3 parts, so wish me luck 😅 Please enjoy this fluffy first chapter!

“Now I’m gonna get murdered by pirates,” you grumbled to yourself as the ship crept ever closer. “Just fucking perfect.”

The windless sea was no challenge for the massive pirate ship. All you could do was sit with your pile of fish, jealous of the huge oars guiding the threat to you.

Dread loomed as that jolly roger closed the distance, like an animal baring its fangs before it strikes. Crossed blades, and a sinister skull with red stripes over its left eye socket.

You didn’t pay enough attention to the gossip and wanted posters to remember who was headed your way.

Not that it matters. They’re pirates.

It was too much to hope that they’d pass you by.

A few voices carried over from the deck, until a tall man leaned over the side. His bright, red hair hung still against this stupidly windless sky.

“Hey, friend,” he called, the sun at your back giving you a glimpse of his wide smile, even from so high above you.

“We’re not friends,” you countered, crossing your arms to keep him from noticing your shaky hands.

“I suppose not. You seem like you’re in a spot of trouble though, and we’re happy to help.”

His deep voice sounded so friendly. Genuine. Charming.

He’s just trying to lure me into his trap. Who knows what they’d do to me on that ship…

“The sun’s getting pretty low for a small boat to be all the way out here,” he judged, trying to block the glare as he looked down at you. “I don’t think we’ll be getting much more wind today.”

“Thank you, I’ll be fine.”

His pause made your skin itch, wishing he would stop looking at you.

“We can bring your boat with us. I’m assuming you’re from that village a ways to the west?”

It must have been a trick of your eyes, it couldn’t happen so quickly. But you swore the day inched closer to night faster with every second. You watched the light grow golden as it lit up the red haired man, and his pirate ship.

Fuck.

“I refuse to be rescued,” you choked out, nails digging into your arms.

“Okay,” he said in an annoyingly teasing tone, “if you insi–”

“I’ll pay you for the service! I had a great haul before…”

“Sounds good to me,” he laughed, deep and hearty. As if he were truly happy.

You had thought pirates would seem scarier. Maybe this is worse.

You barely heard his shouts as men started to lower ropes down, prepping to save you.

“You should know I’m armed,” you yelled up at the back of his head, continuing when he faced you again. “Anyone touches me, and they’ll lose a hand.”

“I’ll be on my guard then. I’ve been running out of those.”

You didn’t understand, or appreciate his teasing while you waited.

“Welcome aboard!”

Pirates echoed the red haired man’s welcome, and you assumed he was the captain as the rest busied themselves about. He sat on deck, calm as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Now that you were so close, you couldn’t help but notice the rippled muscles of his chest and stomach between his mostly open shirt.

Besides the cloak over his shoulders, he didn’t seem to wear anything that could mark him as captain. Unless his red hair, and three scars over his left eye…

“Oh.”

“Oh,” he asked, moving to stand beside you.

“The jolly roger,” you pointed to the menacing skull. “You must be the captain.”

“Good eye,” he leaned in with a smile.

His smile should have a completely different word. The sight from your boat was nothing compared to seeing the way this man's lips curled slowly, the left side starting first as it grew, as if he was enjoying the act of smiling itself. And his eyes…

His eyes were way too close to you.

“Are you alright?”

Concern broke that smile, and he called for someone to bring water.

Your face flushed, hot to the tips of your ears. You realized that you hadn’t heard what the pirate had said because you were too busy swooning over his pretty eyes.

The water was welcome, and you gulped half of it down, suddenly embarrassed about how fucking fishy you must smell with your day’s catch beside you.

“Is there anything else you need, miss…”

Trying to catch your eyes, the pirate leaned toward you. He reached for your shoulder, and you jumped back, spilling water down your chest.

“I’m so sorry, love. I forgot about your warning.”

His soothing voice felt real as he went to a knee in front of you.

“I do hope you will spare me my fate, I swear that no one on this boat will forget it again.”

He’s really too charming. He’s either the sweetest person in the world, or some sort of demon with powers of seduction.

You nodded. It wasn’t like you could truly defend yourself anyway. The fear of being at their mercy kept you hyper aware of all the moving bodies around you.

“How long until we’re at the village?”

The sun was almost gone from the sky now, and you just wanted to be home. To scrub this stupid day away, and pass out.

“It should be about three days from now.”

“Three,” you choked out, dropping the now empty mug of water, which he caught without taking his eyes off of yours.

“We’ve got some business on the other side of the island. We'll be stopping by the village to restock supplies before we head out.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” you snapped, voice louder than you meant it.

He just smirked, tilting his head.

“Sorry, love. Would you like us to toss you overboard? I don’t think you had many rescuers lined up.”

For some reason, you couldn’t get your mouth to remember that these men could kill you as you growled back at him.

“You didn’t rescue me. I paid you for a trip back to the village.”

His lips quirked as if he was fighting not to smile again. He looked down at your haul, fish still flapping in the net.

“That is a really nice haul, miss. Afraid it’s not enough for a direct trip, though.”

Pirates came to take your fish away, and it broke the spell his irritating eyes had on you.

“Please, save this one! You can have it, just… Make sure you cook it well.”

The two men with the net followed your gesture to that fish, assuring you they would obey before taking it away.

“Why’s that one special?”

The weight of this long ass day hit you, a heavy sigh leaving your lips before you looked back at that pretty captain.

“It was a good catch.”

He huffed a laugh, the clear amusement he got from your words making you simultaneously annoyed, and pleased. You were mentally smacking yourself for that.

Don’t be attracted to pirates, dumbass.

“I’m Shanks. I don’t know if you heard me before, but…”

Your skin flushed again, and he seemed to notice, a warm, evil smile slowly forming on his lips.

“What’s your name?”

“You don’t need to know it.”

He gave a real laugh then, loud, and infectious. You had to remind yourself that he was laughing at you.

“What would you like us to call you then, huh? “Fish Girl?” Maybe “Fail Boat?” Or how about “Damsel in Distress?” I think I like that–”

You ripped your hand back as soon as you’d realized what you’d done.

But it was too late.

Your idiotic, suicidal hand had shot out and smacked him, hard, right in the center of that gorgeous chest of his.

The deck roared with laughter while you shook with horror. Shanks had looked down at his chest, and when he lifted his face to yours he looked stunned. If you hadn’t just signed your own death warrant, you might have thought his face comical, brows raised high, with his mouth and eyes wide.

“Go easy on the girl, captain,” teased a tall man with gray hair, shaking his head at Shanks.

“Yeah, come on, captain! What kinda hospitality are you giving, insulting our guest like that?”

A whole group of pirates crowded around him, reprimanding him, and giving him a few gentle punches and shoves.

Your mouth hung open. The sight of these pirates being so playfully disrespectful toward their captain didn’t fit in your brain. None of this made sense with what pirates were supposed to be like.

“Fine. Fine! I’m sorry, miss…”

He’d broken away from his men, leaning toward you with that question.

“Y/N.”

He hit you with a new grin to outshine all the others, making your breath hitch.

“What a beautiful name for a damsel in distress.”

You didn’t need to hit him this time, as pirates did the job for you, even throwing things at him from across the deck.

Maybe it was the overwhelm, the fatigue. Maybe you’d gone insane.

But laughter built in your stomach, growing through your body, until you were shaking with it. You had your hands on your knees as it took you over, and the pirates around you joined in.

How can pirates be laughing and smiling like this with me? How can it be genuine?

Amidst the continued roars of his men, Shanks shook his head, gesturing for you to follow him.

“Where are we going?”

“I’ll show you.”

Frowning at the back of his head, you followed through the wooden halls until he opened a large door, gesturing for you to go inside.

He rolled his eyes when you hesitated, before going in first.

The large room was tiled, with lockers and showers, and there he stood in the center, grinning like a creep.

“I’ll pass,” you deadpanned, backing out the door.

“Come on, fish girl,” he taunted, “you stink, and I think you’ll be easier to clean than the blankets you’ll sleep in tonight.”

Blood rushing to your face again, your mouth opened and closed as anger and embarrassment fought to take over.

Shanks laughed again, but tried to stifle it.

“Sorry, you’re just,” he motioned to his lips, mimicking your movements. “You’re a fish girl.”

“Shut up,” you seethed, leaning toward him. “I’m not taking a shower on a pirate ship when anyone can–”

“I’ll guard the door for you, okay,” he assured, finally seeming to take something seriously. “I’ll make sure no one comes in.”

Now his stupid smile was soft, small, and sweet. You hated it.

“Oh right,” you scoffed, “like I'd trust a pirate captain. Who’s gonna stop you from coming in?”

“What makes you think this pirate captain would even want to come in here, huh?”

“Fuck you,” you breathed, turning to leave.

He was so fast. You jumped back as he blocked the door. He saw your wide eyes, and moved out of the doorway so he wouldn’t block your exit, but he still leaned close.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Really, okay? I promise I will sit right outside this door, and not let a single person come inside until you’re done. There’s fresh clothes for you over there too. Whatever you need.”

A very fine trembling worked its way around your body as you studied him. It seemed like such a bad idea to trust him.

But you were exhausted.

“You’ll sit in front of the door?”

He straightened up, a look of relief brightening that serious face.

“I will.”

“Will you wear a blindfold?”

“If that’s what it takes,” he agreed with a smirk.

“And let me tie your hands behind your back?”

Shanks sucked his teeth as he leaned back. You had a second of fear as he started taking his clothes off.

But all he removed was his heavy cloak, revealing that he was missing his left arm.

Guilt hit you, apologies about to pour out, but he held his palm out.

“Afraid I can’t do that, but I promise I’ll do the rest. Is that alright, Y/N?”

This is really nice soap.

Still on edge, your body started to relax a bit with the delicious smelling soap on your skin.

But every time you felt a moment of relaxation, you’d remember the pirate on the other side of the door.

“You’ve gotta make it tighter, sweetie. Otherwise it won’t work.”

That fucking sentence kept tearing through your brain. The way he’d run his fingers across yours while you adjusted the cloth to blindfold him. The way his hair and skin had felt and smelled as you moved it into place. The way he’d rasped those words while he grabbed your wrist to guide you, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting his fingers trail down your skin.

The way you had let him touch you without arguing. His fingers had taken advantage of the moment, but it had felt almost electric to let him.

“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself.

“Y/N, is everything alright?”

“Uh, yeah. Thank you.”

How did he hear that over the shower?

“What the hell is this?”

“Sorry, love, I'm afraid I can't see what you– ow, hold on!”

You definitely had a few red hairs between your fingers after ripping his blindfold off.

The pirate captain got to his feet to meet your eyes, and fucking snorted.

“What is wrong with you,” you fumed, tossing the blindfold at his face.

The fact that he caught it before it hit him only pissed you off more.

“There has to be something else I can wear,” you demanded, pulling at the frilly lavender dress he stuck you with. You looked like some creepy porcelain doll.

His face was going as red as his hair as he tried not to laugh.

“I’m sorry, no one’s– we don’t have anyone your size,” he choked out, clearing his throat before continuing. “We have a few more dresses like this, though. They were supposed to be a gift for a princess, so you should feel honored!”

“Fuck you.”

His lips were fucking quivering as he fought his laughter. His eyes flicked down to your clenched fists, and he relented.

“Right, sorry, okay! You can have some of my clothes, you’ll just have to roll them up, alright?”

Very judgmentally looking him up and down, you raised your brows at him.

“Do you have any shirts that actually button up all the way? Or do you expect me to let my tits hang out like yours.”

Shanks cackled then, catching himself on the wall, his eyes even tearing up a little.

You kicked yourself for saying something so sexual in front of a fucking pirate.

“You’re a funny one, fish girl,” he teased between hiccupped laughs, “but you definitely look like a damsel in that dress.”

You kicked the pirate for being such a dick.

“Fuck, sorry,” he huffed, wincing as he rubbed his shin where you’d kicked it.

“Follow me. I definitely wanna get you outta that dress– I mean into different clothes,” he almost yelled, warding off a slap with his arm. “So you stop hurting me!”

Practically boiling with a mix of anger, embarrassment, and fear, you let yourself be guided along. The lantern lit halls were roomier than you would have expected, and you could hear the distant voices of the crew.

“Here we go,” he said gently, opening another large door. He went in first again, and you entered what had to be his quarters.

Of course. We’re getting his clothes.

It was full of rich, dark woods, red blankets, a desk that seemed to have more bottles of alcohol than anything work related on it, and a delightful, almost spicy scent filling the air.

The room was a bit messy, and you felt out of place standing there in that frilly dress while he dug through his wardrobe, tossing clothes to the ground as he searched.

“Here, love, how about these?”

“Do you have a belt?”

Managing to roll, buckle, and tuck at his clothes, you were mostly satisfied as you checked the mirror.

Even with all the buttons done up, you still had to tie his shirt to keep your chest from popping out like his does.

“You almost finished? The party’s star…”

Those pretty eyes brightened when you opened the door. His little smirk made you frown, and he held his hand up.

“You were right, Y/N. This definitely suits you better.”

He offered that hand to you, and even in the warm glow of the lanterns, you could see scars, callouses, and thick veins that made your breath hitch for a moment.

Your hand had almost reached his when he pulled away.

“Almost forgot,” he teased, his voice somehow lower than normal as he stepped out of the doorway for you. “I’ll lose my only hand if I touch you, right?”

“I…”

“Well, I definitely won’t risk that.”

He stepped further back, letting you follow him into the hallway.

Your brain seemed to stutter, unable to join the moment as it flew through conflicting emotions.

Like why it upset you that he wouldn’t risk it.

Shanks moved in close, his spicy scent filling your lungs as you looked up at him.

“Just let me know if that ever changes.”

He turned away after a subtle wink that made your brain short circuit.

“You comin’? I’m hungry.”

Still barefoot without your fishy shoes, you chased that red hair down the hallway.

He really is some sort of seduction demon.

“Hey, girly. Is this jackass treating you alright?”

“This is how you talk about your captain?”

The older man with long, gray hair ignored Shanks’ protests as he looked you over.

“You should be more worried about him,” you grumbled, narrowing your eyes at the captain.

“Ha, I’m sure you’re right.”

He grinned down at you, before motioning toward the fire.

“Come on, the food’s almost done.”

The crew had found a remote beach, and set up camp. Their camp supplies seemed to be mostly alcohol.

Shanks had said they had business here, and that they’d go to the village in about three days.

What kind of business are pirates getting up to on my island?

The thought was pushed aside as Shanks called for you. Most of the pirates were holding their plates, or using boulders or crates while they ate. Captain Shanks had a dingy little table by the fire, and was waving you over.

“Come on, love. Let’s eat, and find out why that fish of yours is so special.”

The day's events hit you again, but you joined him in a mismatched chair, and grabbed a fork.

It smelled good.

“Here,” Shanks demanded, shoving a mug of some kind of alcohol into your hand, before standing and lifting his own to address the crew. “Here’s to our luck! We found an unlucky fisherwoman, and now we’ve got good eats. To Y/N!”

The sheer volume of their enthusiasm made your eyes go wide as you faked a sip.

“So tell me, fish girl,” he leaned toward you, the small table not leaving much space between you. “Why is this fish so special?”

Ignoring him, you focused on your plate. The way it looked and smelled was perfect, but you had to know.

He watched your movements, following along as you pierced into the flesh, bringing the first bite to your lips.

It was perfect. Whoever had cooked it had treated it right. The tender meat and the subtle flavor were given just the amount of spice to balance it out.

It would have sold well. After all it took to get it, you were grateful that it didn’t go to waste, and tasting it yourself was wonderful.

Even if you were sharing it with a pirate.

“This is incredible, Y/N. You really are a fish girl.”

Letting out a sigh, you dug in, trying to enjoy the meal that had put you in this situation. The night was filled with the sounds of music, laughter, and endless calls for cheers, the clanging of metal mugs like the shifting heartbeat of this joyful crew.

“So, I had someone take a look at your boat, in case we could help fix it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my boat,” you spat out, wishing you could have enjoyed your meal in peace. Without this too fucking handsome and annoying pirate captain.

Shanks tapped his fingers on the table, a smirk playing at his lips.

“That was the report,” he said softly, the teasing tone building slowly in his voice. “They did say that one of the oars is missing.”

“Thanks for the report,” you grumbled, watching the fire now.

“Come on, just tell me what happened. How’d you get stranded out there?”

“It’s none of your business.”

Your face felt hot, the fire not close enough for the burning in your skin.

“Consider it payment then. For my clothes, and for my company,” he taunted, his voice dipping low.

“I could do without the latter.”

“You wound me, sweet damsel.”

He put his hand to his heart, chuckling at your frown before chugging whatever was in his mug.

“It was a really good catch,” you mumbled, giving in. He scooted even closer to you, excitement in those lovely eyes, mixing with the light of the fire.

Shanks kept that beautiful mouth shut, just tilting his head toward yours as he waited.

“My grandma used to talk about her best catch. That was it,” you said flatly, gesturing to your empty plate. “She made me promise that if I ever caught a fish like that, I had to eat it myself, eat it with friends.”

“Don’t waste a fish like that on berry, sugar. It’s a gift.”

He raised his mug as you mimicked your grandma’s voice, and you brought yours up with a sigh, still just pretending to drink.

“I’m honored, then. Your grandma was right, that fish was amazing.”

Memories of her seemed to join you at the table, bittersweet, and heavier than you’d like.

“Sorry, Y/N. You, uh… You doing okay?”

“I’m fine,” you coughed, a hint of anger back in your voice as you fought against the prickling in your eyes.

“Well,” he drawled out, extending the word for way too long, “you still didn’t tell me how you got stranded out there with nothing but the perfect fish.”

Groaning, you put your forehead on the dingy table and blurted it out, as if you could make it not true if you said it fast enough.

“I caught the fish. I saw what it was. It started to slip through my hands. I knew it’d sell well, so I didn’t want to lose it. I ended up tripping over one of the oars. I should have let it go, I could have grabbed the oar if I’d seen it slipping. But I was greedy. I wanted to sell that stupid fish instead of eating it, and now grandma’s probably cussing at me from the afterlife.”

Shanks at least had the decency to shove his knuckles between his teeth before he started laughing.

“Oh, fuck you,” you huffed, standing to leave the captain’s dingy table.

“Wait, please,” he called, catching your fingers in his, and pulling you back toward him. Only to drop your hand as if he’d been burned when you met his eyes.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean–”

Whatever you might have said was lost in a wave of too many things at once. Humiliation over the whole thing, fear that these pirates could still hurt you, especially if you fell asleep, and the burning in your stupid cheeks because this gorgeous asshole held your hand.

What the fuck is wrong with me today?

The moon was mostly full, so there was plenty of light on the sand as you walked away from the camp. They were so fucking noisy, but the ocean beckoned for you to sit, gentle waves like your grandmother’s sweet voice.

When she wasn’t giving me shit, you thought with a laugh, digging your toes in the sand.

“The ocean makes me feel better too.”

His deep voice annoyed you more than it startled you.

Shanks sat beside you, but not too close.

Ignoring him did not make him go away.

“What do you want?”

“I wanna make your shitty day better. How can I do that?”

“Take me home.”

“Three days on that one, love. Anything more immediate?”

Your plan to stay up all night was already failing, exhaustion dragging you down.

His eyes were so soft under the moon, the hint of a smile brightening his face.

“I don’t want to sleep out in the open with everyone. Is there somewhere… safe where I can sleep?”

Shanks nodded, looking down as he cleared his throat.

“Of course, let me take you now.”

The ship itself seemed to be sleeping, so quiet with only a handful of crew watching it as the rest camped on the island.

Red hair under lantern light guided you through those wood paneled halls again, until he led you to the guest quarters.

“Here’s the key, and you’re welcome to shove this chair under the door knob as well. Breakfast will be at the beach in the morning,” he laughed, running his fingers through his hair. “It’ll probably be the afternoon depending on the hangovers, but you– Are you alright?”

He knelt at your feet, looking you over as you slumped onto the bed.

“How long were you out there today? Have you been drinking water? Are you…”

This charming pirate stopped himself from touching your forehead, and some insane, fatigued part of you reached out, grabbing his hand with both of yours.

“I lied,” you confessed, voice quiet and close, his pretty eyes on your lips. “I can’t cut your hand off. I’m not armed.”

The slow smile he gave you now was your favorite, somehow making the light in his eyes shine brighter. Your hands reluctantly let go of him as he shifted, but instead of moving away, Shanks touched his calloused fingers to your cheek.

“Your secret’s safe with me, sweetheart.”

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: I am obsessed with these two now. What the heck. I need Shanks to make fun of me like that 😅

Tag List: @shewrites02

Part 2

#shanks x reader #red haired shanks #x reader #reader insert #fem!reader #one piece x reader #one piece fics #turtletaub fics #follower celebration #fic requests #mine #fluff #one piece fluff #shanks fluff #shanks fics

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cozage · 1 year

Note

you wanna do continue the one you did where the s/o gets captured? Get them rescuuuued. please and thank you :D

A/N: I actually have two of these requests in my inbox, and these got really long because I’m insane and have to write every detail, so I’m going to break these up into three different posts so people aren’t stuck reading and scrolling through a 10k fic on tumblr. Ace and Law’s will be coming soon!

Characters: female reader x Luffy

Cw: angst, drugging, near-death experience

Total word count: 2.3k

Summary: You've been captured by marines, and the Strawhats work to get you back. (Followup from this request)

Rescued by Pirates - Luffy

Luffy stood at the top of the cliff, staring down the Marine fleet in the bay. There were ten ships, and you were on one of them. Captured. Alone. He knew you were fighting, but there’s only so much you could do in a locked prison cell with sea prism cuffs.

“I’m coming.” Luffy muttered, hoping the wind would carry his words to you. “Wait for me. Don’t stop fighting.”

“Luffy, get down!” Nami pulled the captain back over the ridge, keeping him out of sight from the scouts. “If a Marine sees you this whole stealth operation is over!”

Luffy groaned and slumped to the ground. “I don’t even know why this has to be a stealth operation! If we just start smashing everything-”

“They’ll kill her.” Sanji said, and Luffy grew quiet. “If they know we’re coming, they’ll execute her now and report it to the news coo after.”

“They probably have people waiting outside her cell to do it as soon as the call is made,” Franky admitted coldly. “They don’t want another repeat of…” he trails off, and everyone knows what he’s going to say.

They don’t want another repeat of Ace. Luffy embarrassed the entire World Government when he broke into Impel Down, broke out of Impel Down, and then sailed to Marineford and freed Ace from his shackles.

“It’s possible that’s why they’re still here.” Nami’s voice was worried as she spoke everyone’s thoughts. “They’re baiting us so they can kill her. They don’t want to transport her just to have Luffy embarrass them again.”

“It would make sense why they haven’t taken off yet,” Brook added.

“Or they’re waiting for backup,” Sanji countered. “She’s a dangerous pirate, but the Navy always prefers public executions. Especially with the new leader having a personal vendetta against Luffy, he’ll want to kill her publicly if possible. I’m sure of it.”

“Then we have to go!” Luffy started to stand to his feet, frustrated with the lack of action, but Nami quickly pulled him back down.

“Let Robin and Brook handle this first part! We have to find her first before you start smashing everything to bits!”

Luffy hated waiting. Especially when there's nothing he could do to pass the time. But finally, after about 30 minutes of silence, Robin opened her eyes.

“She’s on the fourth ship in the back with the red and yellow tailwind sail. Under deck, in a prison cell. Shackles on her arms and legs, and a neck collar.”

Luffy’s eyes peeked over the cliffside to find the ship Robin was describing. He located it, and sprang forward to jump over the cliff, but strong arms held him back.

“Zoro, let me go! We know where she is!” He struggled to break free from the swordsman's grasp. “We have to go get her!”

“Hang on Luffy, we need a plan before we just jump into action!”

The guard change comes early today, which you find odd. Normally the Marines are dragging their feet to stand guard over your cell, but then you spot green hair poking out from the marine cap, the man next to him with a very familiar scar across his cheek, and your heart begins to beat faster.

“So, the keys?” Zoro holds his hand out to the Navy officer watching over you, who laughs in his face.

“This must be your first time imprisoning a pirate, kid,” the old man says. “We don’t keep the keys anywhere near the prison. You know how easy it would be for someone to knock out a guard and take them? Let me show you the ropes, kid.”

The old man and his colleague turn to face you for the first time in hours, ushering Zoro and Luffy to look at you now. You can see Luffy is in visible pain just from looking at you.

Your arms and legs were each shackled to the wall, and you had a contraption around your neck that looked strikingly similar to the ones the Celestial Dragons used on their slaves. Blood caked your hair and trickled down your face. Your body was littered in scratches and bruises, your clothes torn from whatever battle had happened that Luffy wasn’t there for.

“Each one of those shackles has a different key, and that neck collar too, as well as the key to the jail cell itself. Each of those keys are on a different ship, and we’ve got instructions to throw the keys into the harbor if we catch a glimpse of a Strawhat approaching the ship.

“The best part, though,” he continues, with a hungry malice in his eyes. He raises his hand to point a finger at your neck. “That collar has a fun little detonator. The Vice Admiral has the control button if it comes to that. And the collar itself administers a sedative every hour on the hour, and gives another dose if someone touches the bars.”

He smacked the bars for good measure, and you flinched as you felt a pinch in your neck.

“Honestly it’s a miracle she’s still awake. We like to hit the bars every now and then just to keep her calm. Don’t want her causing a scene now, do we?”

You were trying your hardest not to stare at Luffy. You can see the rage consuming his body as he realizes what an insurmountable task it is to save you. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head viciously to relay a simple message. Run. Don’t save me.

But you know he won’t listen. He never has. Not with Robin or Ace or Sanji or anyone else he’s saved against their will. And he certainly won’t do it with you either.

“I see a pretty big flaw in this whole design,” Zoro said, staring at the cell you were in. You could see he was enraged as well, but he was hiding it better than Luffy.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that, kid?”

“Can’t they just cut it?”

The old Marine let out a hardy laugh at his question. “Sea prism stone is the hardest substance in the world. Nobody can cut through that, I don't care if it’s Dracule Mihawk himself!”

“Oh, Mihawk can cut Sea Prism Stone.” The green-haired man gave a devilish smirk to the Marine.

You braced yourself. You knew what was coming. Zoro only had two swords with him, but it would be enough.

You heard a whirlwind of air swirl around you, and you could feel the weight on your arms get lighter. There were several pinches in your neck, and you could feel yourself involuntarily slip into unconsciousness.

Zoro had put just a bit too much power into his swings to free you, and the cuts ripped through the ship behind you. He then turned to the marines, wickedly smiling at them.

“Told ya.” He smacked the younger one with the hilt of the sword and the marine crumpled to the ground, but the older marine was fast and dodged Zoro’s attack. The Marine locked Zoro into a battle of swords, occupying his ability to get the other chains off of you.

Luffy sprang into action, running to grab you. He screamed your name as he ran to you, jumping over sea prism stone rubble and other debris to reach you. He knew Zoro hadn’t hurt you, but you were slumped against the ship wall, and he couldn’t help but think about how fragile you looked. He shook you, desperately trying to wake you up.

And then Luffy heard a beeping sound, coming from the collar around your neck. The same sound that he was helpless against in Sabaody. “ZORO!” He screamed, holding you tight.

“Forgot to mention,” the older marine grinned back at the swordsman, keeping him locked in a battle. “Tamper with the chains too much and the collar will detonate, even without a push from the button.”

Zoro tightened his muscles in horror. “Luffy, get it off of her!”

“I hear she’s the weakness of Strawhat Luffy. Let’s watch and see, shall we? Perhaps he’ll have an even worse reaction than in Marineford.” The marine's gaze was on Luffy now, eager to see him snap.

Luffy ignored the weight of what failure meant for you. He focused, letting his Haki flow through his body like he had seen Rayleigh do in Sabaody. He grabbed the collar from around your neck and squeezed, snapping it in half, and threw it away from you. In the same motion, Luffy turned and glared at the Marine, who instantly crumpled to the ground, knocked out by Luffy’s Conqueror's Haki.

“Luffy, we have to go,” Zoro’s voice was urgent. There was commotion above them coming from the deck. It was clear the Navy was alerted to their presence. But Luffy was ignoring him, desperately trying to shake you awake.

“Come on, Luffy,” Zoro insisted, stepping over the rubble. He quickly cut each of the shackles off your legs. “She’ll be fine. I’ll carry her, you punch things. Let's go.”

Zoro put a sword between his teeth and picked you up into his arms. He saw the darkness in Luffy’s eyes, and stood back to let his captain destroy the people who had tried to take you away from him.

Luffy spared no ship. Once he saw Zoro and you were safe on the beach, he unleashed his full might against the ten ships in the harbor. His crew could hear his screams of rage from the shoreline, his pent up fear of losing you spilling out into his attacks.

When he was finally finished destroying the ships, he came back to the shore and sat silently among his crew. He pulled your unconscious body into his lap, stroking your hair softly. He stared down at you for a long time, just watching the rise and fall of your chest, his eyesight fuzzy from tears.

As the sun was starting to sink over the horizon, Nami finally spoke up. “We should go.” Her voice was hoarse, and her cheeks were damp with tears.

“Not until she wakes up.”

Sanji sighed, pulling out a few small rations of food to give the crew while they waited. Luffy didn’t eat, he just combed his fingers through your hair, willing you to wake up.

Nightfall came, and you were still unconscious. The crew could see lights on the horizon. Marine ships that were supposed to lead you to Impel Down.

“Luffy, we need to go,” Sanji insisted. Luffy refused to respond, his eyes only watching you.

“She’ll be more comfortable on the ship, Luffy,” Chopper said, trying to coax the captain back to the Sunny. “She can sleep in a bed and we can monitor her more closely.”

“It’s better for her to be back on the ship,” Sanji agreed. “And we need to get moving.”

Luffy finally nodded, giving in to his crew's request. If it was better for you, then he wouldn’t be selfish. It was selfishness that got you in this position in the first place. If he hadn’t run off on his own, if he had just stayed with the group like Nami had told him too, this might’ve never happened.

He held you close to him and walked back to the ship with the rest of the crew, not speaking. When they got back to the ship, Luffy set you down in the infirmary and stood in the corner, letting Chopper take care of you.

“Let me know if anything changes in her status.” And with that, Chopper left the two of you alone in the infirmary. Luffy sat in the chair next to your bed, holding your hand and watching you sleep, waiting for you to come back to him.

Before you open your eyes, you can hear the heart rate monitor beeping; you can feel the harsh light against the back of your eyelids. Beside you, you can hear soft, even breathing of someone who is sleeping. Luffy. You’d know the sound of his breathing anywhere. You feel relief wash over you, knowing you’re safe with your crew.

The light is still too bright for your eyes, so your hand reaches out blindly, searching for Luffy. Your hand finds his head, and you pat him gently. You don’t intend to wake him, but he instantly stirs from his sleep.

“Y/n?” His voice is groggy as his head lifts up.

“Hi,” you whisper, your eyes still closed. “Can you turn off the-”

His body crashes into you, cutting off your question, and you wrap your arms around him in an embrace. You can hear his broken sobs of relief fill the air. “I was so scared,” he sobbed into your shoulder. “You weren’t waking up.”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you say soothingly, trying to calm him down. You crack your eyes open a bit, trying to adjust to the light in the room. “Thanks to you, captain.”

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x you #one piece x reader #monkey d luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy #luffy x reader #luffy x y/n #✧˚law✧˚

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thefandomdirtymind · 8 months

Note

Hello! I saw your post you're open for a request and I was wondering if I could I have OPLA Sanji?

About Sanji fall in love towards reader but reader was hesitate and unsure if Sanji is being sincere it's like she's having trust issues since Sanji is considered a ladies' man or flirty and was afraid he'll broke her heart?

A/N IMPORTANT: Hey, thank you for your request Anon ! I had to confess that it was kind of a hard one for me because well...trust issu hit close from home and I just start to write that angst even if it was not my specialty, but I really like the result and I hope you will too !

Trust Issues

OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji

Sanji / OPLA Masterlist and Coming Soon

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.

—

Love wasn’t your cup of tea. Sure, the idea of a partner supporting and adoring you like you deserve was cute. But, in your opinion, you have already done enough. After all, your last relationship has resulted as becoming a pirate and being abandoned by your lover to save his ass. And, If the humiliation hadn’t been enough, not long after your escape for the marines, you had seen him parading with his new lady wrapped around his arm. Like if you hadn’t existed at all.

So, nobody could blame you if you had some trust issues and an aversion for ladie’s man.

It’s why you knew the minute you saw his smile what Vinsmoke Sanji was : A pretty flirt.

If it was only you, you had refused his presence on the ship, but, like Luffy had said, the Going Merry needed a cook and the man was a hell of a fighter. As the morning came, you couldn’t also deny the fact that he looked incredibly good in his suit, his bag on his shoulder, ready to come aboard. Smiling at the instant he spotted you.

“ Hello Madam, I'm glad we met again. Can I say that you seem even more beautiful in this sunlight” He offered, from the dock, as you were sitting on the main deck rail adjusting a rope.

“ You may, but it doesn't mean I will accept the compliment. Luffy is on the upper deck if you search him” You coldly replied, trying to shut down your traitor heart. You will not fall for another pretty face, never.

“ I didn’t expect much Madam, thank you for the information “ Sanji replied, his mood in nothing affected by your coldness. Sure, he had hoped for a warmer welcome, but after serving you the night before and found himself unable to turn his gaze away from your beauty. He was satisfied with just being part of the same crew as you, the rest would come later he had assumed.

It took, in fact, way longer than he first thought. For the entire few weeks he had been on board, you hadn’t looked or talked to him except to thank him for the food or urgent matters.

Many times, the crew had tried to talk to you, asking you to be more nice with Sanji. But, even if you could feel his charm often softened your shield, your stubbornness was even stronger.

It wasn’t easy for Sanji either. He knew you clearly disliked him without knowing why. When, on his part, the more he was admiring you, watching you laugh with the others, hearing your brilliant plan, watching you gracefully climb the cordage and being as stubborn as him. Make him love you even more. Everyday, he was trying to charm you, offering you compliments, taking an interest in what you were doing or simply making you the best food he could. But, nothing worked, you answered him quickly and as coldly as always.

It'll take another two months and a storm before Sanji has enough.

The rain was falling for hours,helped by a wind so strong that you had to close one of the sails to avoid drifting away. Each two hours or so, the members of the crew were making a rotation, trying as much as possible to not fatigue themself too much and end up falling into the water.

You were the only one still standing, drenched by the cold rain, your muscles sore by the force necessary to keep the helm stable. Multiple times Nami and Usopp had tried to push you to take a rest or at least eat something warm, but each time you refused resolutely, you would pass that storm and rest after.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Sanji was finishing his soup, preparing three bowls for the crew member who will come downstairs to take their rest. As he prepared himself for going upstairs, doing his part, the blond chef saw Nami and Usopp going down the stairs, alone. You aren’t with them, again.

“ Where Y/N ” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“ She refuses to budge of the helm. we tried to talk to her but it’s like talking to a rock” Nami replied, wrapping herself in a big towel.

“ I’ll come back, I will bring her here “ Sanji only replied, his happy mood now sour. It wasn’t rare in the time who’s he was running the restaurant with Zeff that he lost his temper. He had lost it already a time or two during battle, but against another member of the crew,it was a first.

Making his way to the helm, he looked at you, already knowing it will not be easy. But, to be sure you’re in security, he was ready to fight you if he had to.

“ Y/N, your time has long passed, I will replace you. I prepared a dry towel and warm soup in the kitchen. Go take some rest “ He first tried.

“ I’m not tired or hungry “ You simply replied with your gaze focused on the horizon.

“ Then I’m afraid I have to excuse myself Darling “ Profiting from an adjustment of your position, he then proceeds to lift you on his shoulder, easily dodging all your attacks, as he was getting you down in the ship to dry both of you.

“ How dare you ! “ You scream, shaking of rage and cold. As he sits you on one of the kitchen stools and throws a dry towel at you. “ I was perfectly fine !”

“ You were on a trip to catch death ! “Sanji replied sharply, his gaze dark and his wet form in a stiff posture with anger “ I don’t know what I exactly did to make you dislike me like that, but I can care for you if you do some stupid things like that ! “

“ Then just don’t care about me and go flirt somewhere else !!” You angrily answered.

Taken aback, Sanji tilted his head, frowning his eyebrow, clearly confused.

“ Wait…what…You dislike me…because I flirted with you ?“ He slowly asked, trying to understand your point.

“ I just don’t understand why you haven't given up yet ! I had already done with the damn flirty kind, go charm your other ladies and leave me alone ! “

" My other…” Sanji starts disbelief. “ I don’t give up because I care for you…stubborn woman! " Sanji tried to say. Never had he thought that it was his manner that you hated so much. " But if my affection isn't required, fine, eat and rest, that's all I ask " He sighs ,disappearing upstairs.

A long and heavy silence fell in the kitchen after he left, leaving you with a curiously heavy heart and some concerned gaze of Nami and Usopp eating their soup. After a while, you sigh, defeated and take yourself a bowl. As always, the dish was perfectly balanced and delicious.

" You know y/n...I know your story, I understand, I do. But…Sanji didn't flirt with any woman aside from you for months…I think he genuinely likes you, " Nami softly spoke. "Of course I'm not you and you have all the right to act like you do, but it’s not Sanji's fault. He’s not him… and I think the day he will stop caring for you, you will realize it’s will be maybe too late”.

“ Maybe “ You admit, finishing your food before leave it into the sink and heading to the door” I will sleep a little, wake me up when it will be our turn again please “

But she never woke you up and when you opened your eyes, the sun was shining again on another day.

Sanji wasn’t the kind of man who'd give up easily, neither on his dream nor on the people he loved. But, even with his flirty tendency, respecting women and their wishes was a priority. It’s why, even if it cost him and that your word had wounded him, on that sunny day, he started to restrict at the minimum his attention to you.

And you noticed it immediately. His gaze on you, usually full of affection, was now more distant, he didn’t ask you if you had slept well, nor if you would like something in particular for breakfast, he simply put an omelet in front of you, smiled politely and returned to his occupation. Yes, for Sanji it was odd, but, as a ladie’s man you give him a week before going back to his old habit.

Luckily for you, life decided to give both of you a hand.

Your estimation could never be more wrong. After two weeks of polite but cold Sanji, you were almost wishing you never had that fight. Your traitor heart was missed his radiant smile toward you, his compliments for every little detail of your person or the way he tried to know every one of your favorite things. But you had broken it and you were now unsure how to repair it. Excuse could probably do the charm, but your stubbornness was always blocking you, estimating that protecting your heart wasn't shameful.

The Going Merry was anchored alongside an island, doing his needed resupply. As the last barrel had been brought on board, you followed the idea of Zoro and decided to join your companions for a drink at the little bar on the beach.

But, as you put your foot in the small place, you froze, your mind resuming to a static white noise. Your ex, already another lady at his arm, was installed with his crew at the largest table of the little tavern.

“ Hey Y/N come here, that table is free ! “ Luffy exclaimed, not noticing your stiffness.

“ Y/N is that you ! Damn girl, I haven't seen you since you were surrounded by Marines ! I own you for this one, how did you escape ?! “ The despicable man shouted, clearly more happy to see you, than you were to see him. “ Darla, that girl was... my most loyal crew member. “He explained to the girl at his side “Look at you, have you always been that pretty ? “

The compliment was the last straw that snapped you out of your shock. How could he talk to you so casually after all you had endured because of him. Doesn’t he have an ounce of regret or shame ?!

“ I escaped on my own after you had cowardly abandoned me ! “ You replied, as Sanji placed himself behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder in support.

“ Y/N, that man clearly doesn’t deserve your time, come, the drink will arrive soon” He tried, giving a hard look at the pathetique Captain who was now coming a you, his hand scratching his hair, gauging if Sanji was a menace for his future plan with you or not.

“ Not deserving of his time, I had already two years of her time mate, go sip your beer and let us discuss. Y/N and I have many things to talk about. I haven’t abandoned her, I knew she could escape, she’s a smart cat. Aren't you Sweet pea”

“ I have nothing to say to you, thank you Sanji but I’m not in the mood. Being in the same room as him would suck all the joy I have. I will be on the ship. “ You simply replied, making your exit before tears ran down your cheeks.

Sat on the upper deck, watching the night sky, the fresh wind drying your last tears, you saw Sanji came back onboard. Without a word, he simply sat beside you and offered you the bottle he was keeping in his hand.

“ Zoro sent his regards and I’m here to tell you that I’m sorry. I had tried to respect your wish, but I couldn’t stop myself tonight. I can’t not care for you and that man was...he shouldn’t ever treat a lady as you like that. Maybe now he had learn “

“ Sanji, what did you do? “ You asked, strangely touched that he had actually take your defense even after you had left.

“ I kicked his pathetic and disgraceful ass. I couldn’t tolerate the way he was looking at you, talking to you...But I understand now how my behavior led you to dislike me when I arrived, But I assure you that…”

“ I know, “ You said your heart, still fragile, beating faster.” You aren’t him and I should have waited to know you. I was scared, I didn’t want to like you because I was afraid to repeat the same story. But even if I tried, I realize when you had stop to caring for me that I miss it, I missed you…a lot“

Suddenly unusually shy, his cheeks a slightly shade of faded pink in the dark, Sanji avoided your gaze, a joyful smile spreading on his lips.

“ I suggest that we start over. We can't forget all those months but we can restart our relationship.I can’t wait to truly know you Y/N” He tell, finally planting in gaze in yours, that lost spackles in his eyes, the one you though forever vanish, back even brighter that ever.

“ I can’t wait too, Sanji “ You softly smile.

___

Your first kiss with Sanji happened a little shorter than a month later. At exactly the same spot.

Since that night, you have made a habit of watching the sky together, sharing stories, passions and thoughts. Even if the blond cook, not without surprise, seems to find the constellation less appealing than your sweet view at his side. But, you slowly adapted yourself to his flirting and even often replied, to his joy.

It was in one of those moments, as you turned your head to point to him a group of stars that Sanji captured your lips, answering your heart's deepest desire from months and even probably since the tall man had put a foot on the deck.

Somewhere on the lower level of the ship, you hear the playful screams and wolf whistles of your friends. But, as he captured your lips for another kiss you couldn't care less. You had an amazing group of friends, the sea was peaceful and with the help of Sanji, your heart finally started to heal.

#opla!sanji x reader #sanji x reader #one piece netflix #opla #opla sanji #vinesmoke sanji x reader #one piece #one piece sanji #opla vinesmoke sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #Request #Sanji Request

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the-kr8tor · 4 months

Text

Sailing Close to the Wind

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 8.2k

Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), CW food mention, CW violence, TW injury.

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

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CHAPTER 5 >>> CHAPTER 6

Trousers, oh you'd love to kiss the person who invented trousers. You can't climb a mast with heavy cotton skirts especially without anyone below getting a full look at what's under it. Not to mention how comfortable it is, granted it's technically not your trousers, it's a bit big on the waist so you have to use a rope and some type of knot that James taught you. The cotton shirt and lambskin vest makes you look like an honest to god pirate, you fit right in, if only you could get up on the perch without falling.

The wind is breezing by you as you find leverage with your foot on the iron footholds, your hands are clammy, eyes strained against the sun and wind. The height thrills you, reminding you of the time when you used to jump all-over roofs to escape coppers.

“Hurry up, gorgeous! I'm bleeding up here!” Yuri screams from the top, showing you her so-called injury on her palm. It's bleeding, yes but it definitely does not need any stitching.

You swear she's messing with you. Training you perhaps? But it wouldn't matter as you won't stay on the revenge for too long. According to Miles, land is close, a couple of days at most. You secretly hope it's more than two, you're liking your stay on Hobie's ship, dare you say you're quite fond of having the crew around. Minus all the rival pirates and navy ships attacking the revenge, maybe you'll love it more here if those events don't happen on a daily basis.

There's a sense of security on the ship or maybe you're just beginning to get used to the routine and you just don't want the routine to get derailed by leaving the ship.

Even with all the dangers of staying on a pirate ship, you'd like to stay a few more days on it.

Your mind flies back during the crew meeting a week ago while you're slowly making your way up towards the crow’s nest. You can still feel everyone's eyes on you but you've only got your eyes clocked on to Hobie's intense look, he's determined, lips curling into a smirk as he says your name in front of the crew.

“Lastly, we're gonna need scuttlebutt, she's the only person not known to the navy in the colony.” Hobie's voice tells the crew but his gaze stays on you.

“She'll be our distraction then?” Ned asks.

You suddenly feel sweaty in front of everyone's eyes.

“Aye, we've already discussed her part. She knows what she's gonna do.” He stares at you intently, addressing you only. “After that you can finally get back on land.” You nod, slowly. Hobie finally looks away from you, speaking to the crew.

“Everyone else just needs to follow her lead. This isn't your first heist, you all know how to work with each other, keep up with the plan and we'll get the documents we need.”

“Remember, distraction,” Gwen glances at you briefly, “no guns inside, we get in the governor's office, get the plans, we get in and we get out quick.” Gwen speaks up from Hobie's right, her tone is serious, the low lamps swaying in the ship's movement makes shadows dance on her face.

“After that a round in the tavern, right?!” Two-fingers shout from the corner, most of the crew cheers with him.

“If we do everything right.” To everyone's dismay, Hobie corrects the cheering crew.

Yuri faces Hobie with a stern look. “Then after that we get the bastard, we get our bloody revenge, and then we're done.” you feel the tension filling the cramped space. “We go back to what we used to do.” Hobie observes her quietly, “The sea is calling and we better fucking answer, am I right cap'n?”

Hobie inhales, you could only get a glimpse of his anger flash across his face. “Then we answer the call”

The sudden rhythmic stomping from the crew makes you jump, Pavitr turns to you, whispering close. “So you've already discussed it with the captain, huh?” he wiggles his brows.

“Really, Pav?”

He continues to wiggle his eyebrows that are weirdly flexible. “Is that all you've discussed? Orrrr” You roll your eyes.

“Pav?”

“Yeah?”

“Go jump overboard”

“If that will get you to stay then I will jump overboard.” He happily says, skipping away from you.

“Wait what—?”

Yuri reaches down, flexing her ringed fingers for you. “C’mon landlubber, I'll help you up before the wind takes you.” her voice brings you back to reality.

You take her hand, “Thanks, how did I do?”

“You climb like my old hamster. Very cute but not very fast.” Heaving you up, you finally reach the bird's nest.

The circular space is filled with random stuff hanging from the banisters. A sextant hangs on a ribbon on your right, an old telescope swings in the wind, hitting your shin. The basket of yarn sits by your feet, a pair of knitting needles lay next to it.

“Thanks?” you look around and the view takes your breath away, the sun shines brightly painting the open water in watercolor light. There's nothing but blue as far as your eyes could see, you've never felt tinier in your entire life.

Waves heading in different directions, seagulls circling above the ship, providing a chorus of unending squawking.

“You're welcome, pretty.” She sits down on a tiny stool, palm up. “Before I bleed out.”

You chuckle. “You're not gonna bleed out,” taking a bandage and ointment from your handy dandy trouser pocket, you squat in front of Yuri. “It's just a scratch, and here I thought pirates are all tough.”

“Am I a pirate? Haven't felt like it recently.”

You look up at her, pausing from treating her wound. “What do you mean by that? Of course you're a pirate.”

“You look like a pirate too, Y/N, but logically speaking, you're not one of us.”

“Touché” you continue to bandage her hand, there's a sudden weight in your chest. “And here I thought you're not a pirate?” You throw back her own words.

She laughs, the sound akin to tiny bells twinkling. “Oh I'm gonna miss you and your wit.”

You smile genuinely, “and my medical prowess too?”

“That and more, doc.”

“Yuri, can I ask you a question before I inevitably leave?”

She stretches her hand, trying out the bandages. “Finally!” You jump slightly. “And here I thought you would pass asking me all your incessant questions.”

“Am I that annoying?”

“Oh no you're not, don't worry, darling. We're just not used to having new comers, the last time we had one was a while ago. And that was Danny, bleh.”

“Great, and here I thought everyone hates it when I ask questions.”

“They do,” you blink, “but if they ever complain they get a stare down from Gwen so they let you be curious.”

You bite back a laugh.

Yuri crosses a leg over the other. “So what is your question? I'm dying to know.”

You clear your throat. “During the meeting–?”

“Ah that!” She leans on the railing, shoulders relaxed, face facing the sun as it bathes her in sunlight. “The whole revenge thing has put a stop to our usual…” Yuri thinks of an appropriate word. “Adventures, that's why I just want it done and over with. Three years chasing the king's flame is too long, don't you think?”

“The king's flame?” You try to recall his real name that you've read a few times in the newspaper. “Captain Mathias something something.”

“Oh he's something alright, got our captain's knickers in a bunch for three straight boring years.” She pauses to look at you through her eyelashes. “I hate the wanker as much as the crew but my god I just want to bring him down as soon as possible.”

Sighing, she squeezes the bridge of her nose. “The navy attack was a blessing in disguise I suppose, if not for the lieutenant singing we wouldn't get the information about his little travel directory.”

You nod. “You just want to go back to pirating, I get it now.”

She hums. “That's why I like you so much”

You look away embarrassed, clearing your throat, you continue. “About the whole revenge thing? Everyone dances around it every time I ask and—”

“Maybe you'll find out if you stay long enough.” She smiles, a genuine one without a hint of flirting. “We need you y’know.”

“I know but I've got my own path to follow.”

“Screw following your path!” She waves you away, clicking her tongue. You frown at her. “I know you're starting to like it here. Look, I'm not opposed to you staying, I haven't seen this crew this healthy in a loooong while. Not to mention, Hobie bounced back real quick after all the attacks. Morale is at an all time high.”

“Only because he had less to worry about, like the crew dying of infection and disease.” you scoff.

“No, it's the opposite, he has more to worry about.”

You quirk a brow questioningly.

“You're asking the wrong questions, doc.”

“And what questions should I ask then?”

“Why did the hellion flee? They clearly had us, they just had to sail to us, back up the smaller ship but they didn't, they stayed behind, watching.”

You blink slowly, contemplating. “This didn't come up during the meeting. Have you told Hobie?”

“Of course I have and he reacts the same way every time I express my concerns about his revenge plan.” She shakes her head. “Fuckin’ indifferent.”

“I can tell him, maybe he'll listen.”

Yuri gives you a look, a neat eyebrow raised, lips straight. “Please, he might actually throw you overboard this time. We've tried that, love, trust me nothing's holding him back. He'll only stop once he gets his hands on the captain and I don't think even death itself will stop him either.”

“What did the navy do to him to warrant that?”

“Y’know what,” she stands up, stretching her back. “Go back down to the deck, Hobie's been staring at us for a while and I think his iris is burned from staring too close to the sun for too long.”

Sure enough, you look down to see Hobie knocking on the wooden mast, the sound reverberates upwards. He looks tinier from up where you are.

“Come down here and make yourself useful!” his hands are cupped around his mouth, yelling out.

Staring back at Yuri, she busies herself with her knitting, crafting a dark blue scarf. She waves you off wordlessly, eyes trained on her craft.

You climb down carefully, making sure your foot has leverage and your hands properly holding onto the steel bars.

Your mind filters through more questions, why would the crew not just answer you directly? Why does everyone compare you to the mysterious MJ? What is up with Hobie and the navy—?

A strong gust of wind suddenly blows past. With your hands slipping off the metal, feet unhooking from the foothold, you fall. Barely letting out a sound, you close your eyes, bracing for impact.

But you don't land on the floor with a harsh splat, instead you feel strong arms enveloping you, a hand gripping onto your thighs tightly, fingers spread across your shoulder, holding and tender on your skin.

“Fuckin' hell!” You hear someone yell.

Cracking an eye open, you see Hobie's furrowed brows, chest heaving. After seeing you alright, his face morphs into the most smug look you've ever seen. His lips curling into a smirk, eyes crinkling in the corners, dimples in full display. With his eyes full of wordless teasing, he opens his mouth with confidence.

“Got you fallin’ for me now, hmm?” The sun shines behind him, giving him a heavenly halo above his head. You swear you want to punch it off his face.

Shoving yourself off his arms, he drops you unceremoniously, you land on your behind with an ‘oomph’. Hobie looks down at you with a growing smile, hands tucked in his pants, his casual shirt dances with the wind, giving you a full show of his exposed chest. You sneer at him, wanting to tug the strings on his shirt to close it and maybe strangle him with it.

“A thank you would be great” He snickers, “saved your life a few times now. We should have a board here that tallies it all down.”

You stand up, pretending to dust yourself off but in truth, your tailbone hurts. “I fell from six feet, I would've survived, thank you very much.”

“You are very welcome, scuttlebutt” you can't believe it but he still manages to irk you.

Sucking in your teeth, you exhale, letting out your frustrations through it lest you get thrown overboard by the captain himself.

“What do you want, Hobie?”

“It's captain to you.”

“Captain” you say with gritted teeth, eyes searing holes into his shirt.

“That's better, I need help with tying the sail down. The others are unfortunately busy”

You raise an eyebrow, “why don't you do it yourself?”

“The wind’s too strong, I need someone to hold the ropes.” Hobie points at the large flapping ropes tied around the main mast, it could take someone's eye out with how wild it's moving around.

“Fine”

—

You're practically hugging the entire mast, making sure the numerous ropes stay close to the wood, the hemp ropes slap you across the face while another gust of sea wind passes through you, fluttering your lashes. You're glad that you're wearing trousers instead of the usual long skirt.

Hobie wrangles the wild cords. You can't see him but based on all the groaning and frustrated grunts, the ropes seem to be winning.

“Alright, got this one tied—fuck!” You hear a slapping sound against cloth. Silently chuckling, you'd give anything to have seen that just now.

“Hand me the next one!” He yells atop the rushing wind. You blindly take a single rope, handing it to Hobie's side.

Waves crash on the side of the ship, rocking you back and forth. Good thing you're already holding on to something strong.

He grabs it, his hands grazing your palms. It's warm, warmer than you thought it would be, you feel his calluses and all the history around it.

This continues on until you're only holding onto one rope, you've practically memorized every indent and lines on his hands and palms. Hobie ties the last rope on the steel hooks, the muscles in his arms doing all the work, sweat drips on his chest, following it with your eyes. it's like seeing a carriage crash, you can't look away.

“Fuckin' hell” you fling your eyes away when you hear his tired voice, looking at anything else other than him.

You're glad no one's looking your way.

The wind whips your warm cheeks, incredibly thankful to mother nature, you look back at Hobie, avoiding his sweat covered chest.

“Last one, scuttlebutt.” He flexes his hand towards you, smiling brighter than the searing sun. Why was he so happy when he was attacked by hemp cables a few minutes ago?

Before you could give it to him, Hobie had a better idea. “Why don't you do this one? Learn how to properly tie a knot.”

“James already taught me”

He beams, “that's good then, go do it.” Moving aside, Hobie gives you ample space to tie the cord.

You begin to twist it around the hook, looping it around itself. Hobie sighs behind you, looking over your shoulder, he has his hands on his hips.

“Continue, let me see what he taught you, yeah?”

Going back to your knot, you recall James’ instructions, over and under, twist it around then tie it together. You're done, looking behind you, Hobie grins, nodding.

“Adequate.”

The pride in your chest dissipates. “Really?” You scoff out.

“Good, but not enough, here.” He walks towards you, standing so close to you that your elbows kiss his.

You smell sea salt and the distinctive wound ointment.

Hobie unties the last knot, “focus here,” he tethers it differently, practiced hands gliding along the rope. “Got it?”

“Y-yeah.”

He unties it again, handing it back to you. “Let me see then.”

You side eye him. “I saw it.”

“Prove it then” he smirks, leaning sideways on the mast, arms crossed on his chest.

You bind it together like he did, hands suddenly clammy, face full of concentration. “There?”

“Not quite. Let me?” He closes the small distance, hands gesturing towards the rope, you nod thinking he's about to show it to you again. Instead he takes your hands in his. Careful and gentle like a flower petal kissing your hands.

Hobie uses your own hands to tether the rope around the steel, your mind has never clouded this much but you're determined to listen this time or he might not leave your hands alone.

“D’you have it, scuttlebutt?”

You clear your throat before speaking. “Y-yeah”

He unknots it once again so you could do it yourself. Holding the rope makes you sweat more as his eyes observe you. You follow through, finally doing it perfectly, it's a bit wonky, leaning to the side but at least it's secure.

Hobie chuckles, clasping your shoulder briefly, not a second more. “Good job.”

You blink, “thanks”

He walks away, leaving you on the spot.

—

The revenge drops anchor further away than the main docks. You've arrived a day earlier than you thought. With your small bag of belongings, you grip it tightly in your hand. You haven't been this further south in your entire life. The air is humid and warm, the trees more scarce.

The anchor clinks against the chains, with one strong push of the large wheel by Finn, the metal comes tumbling down to the depths with a splash.

A ramp is brought down to the side of the ship, it bangs loudly on the asphalt. The crew rolls down barrels upon crates of things down as you watch on with a clenched jaw.

“You'll do great.” Gwen makes you jump in place, she looks at you apologetically. “Don't be nervous, I know you won't fuck up.”

“Thanks?”

She slaps your back, “No problem.”

“Ow” you rub at the small of your back.

One by one they walk off the ship, stretching their arms, some hoot and holler. The late afternoon sun doesn't help with your nervous sweats as you carefully make your way down the ramp.

Finally standing on solid ground, you wobble a bit on your feet, too used to the rhythmic rocking of the ship.

Hobie jumps off the ramp following after you, his boots thud against the ground, heavy leather coat scraping by his shoes. His usual hair is tied in a ponytail hidden under a tricorn hat.

“Is this supposed to be your disguise?” You question him.

He whirls around, smiling almost immediately. “You'll be surprised at how many people don't recognize me in this.”

“Sure–” A crowd of children saunters over to the crew. Your eyes widen at the sight, their faces unafraid, giggling amongst themselves. “Uhh?” You point.

Hobie twists around, bringing your hand down for you. “Calm down, they can smell fear.”

“W-what?” You hide behind Hobie's large coat.

“You're all a sight for sore eyes, eh?!” Hobie bends at the knees while the children greet him with smiles and high fives. Pav and the rest of the crew join in, laughing while some happily chat with them.

“Open the crates,” Hobie calls above the chatter. “Give them the supplies.” He holds a child by his feet, swinging him while more children gather around him, calling for Hobie to swing them around too.

You watch quietly as the crew gives the gaggle of children some food, blankets and coins.

“How's your mum?” You hear Hobie ask a brown haired child. She whispers to him timidly. “Yeah? That's good, give her this bag, tell her it's for medicine.” Hobie hands her a clinking bag, the girl nods, smiling at Hobie.

Your heart warms at the sight, Finn gives the children piggy back rides as he gives them bread that you helped bake. Gwen talks quietly with a silver haired boy, Miles fights off a handful of children as they poke his pockets for coins. Pavitr’s handing each child a fleece blanket, laughing as he covers their heads with it.

You can't believe your own eyes.

A brown eyed girl tugs at your jacket. Looking down, you smile politely at her. Kneeling down to her height, she gives you her best puppy dog eyes.

“I know you're good but give it back, please?” You say while you offer her your open hand.

Her facade breaks, rolling her eyes. “Fine.” she hands you back your coin pouch.

“Need more practice,” you chuckle, standing to your full height.

“Ugh, I know!” She skips off, heading towards Ned.

“That's Estelle, quite a pickpocket huh?” Hobie appears next to you, a couple of children clinging on to each of his legs.

“Yeah, caught her with my coins though.”

“She needs more practice”

You laugh, “that's exactly what I told her.”

Hobie smiles, there's a comfortable silence between you. Just watching everyone interact with the children, more people arrive on the dock, both children and adults alike. They smile and wave. Surprisingly, Hobie waves back with a bigger smile. The children on his legs run off to what looks like their parents. Your smile falters.

Something pokes your side, you look down, finding a book poking you.

“What's this?” you ask, taking the book from Hobie.

“Farewell gift, I figured I won't have the time to give it to you after we take the papers”

Reading the title, you giggle, a smile coming back to your lips.

“‘How to conquer your fears volume five: Learn how to swim by Sir Riordan of Canterbury’ of course it's this book. I can't believe it took him five volumes to write this one.”

“Thought you might need it on your adventures.” He turns to you fully, eyes roaming around your face.

You're about to thank him, despite everything that happened, he let you stay, if it was any other pirate ship you'd be dead. Before you could say your piece, Hobie holds out his hand for you to shake.

“Good luck, Scuttlebutt. I can't say you were a pleasure on board but I'm glad you're not navy” you take his hand, shaking it, he tugs you closer, whispering in your ear, his breath fanning across your cheek. Sea salt and leather captures your senses.

“I better see you later or I'll—’’

“Or you'll hunt me down, I know, follow the plan. I won't let them down.” You lean away, cheeks warm, hand still holding his. “I promise.”

His grey eyes swirl, smiling at you. “Good, you're learning.”

“Surviving” nodding, you don't back down from his stare. “I'm just surviving.” you clasp his hand tighter like a hidden threat before you let go.

—

A shot rings out. You scream bloody murder before running frantically out the dim alleyway, sprinting towards the guards guarding the manor. Your barebones shoes clack on the rocks, feeling the jagged edges through your soles, you keep running, calling for help. Frantic shadows dance around your peripheral, footsteps as quiet as the night.

Reaching the silver gates, you bang on the metal. “Guards!” You screech, a couple of young guards sprint towards you, muskets raised in your direction.

“Stop right there! This is private property!” One says, you can smell the ale on his mouth from where you're standing.

This will be easier than you thought. Hopefully.

You heave, playing the part of a damsel in distress. “It's my brother! He's been shot, please help him!” Taking the younger guard’s hands through the metal gate, you flutter your eyelashes. “Please.”

They look at eachother, muskets pointed away from you. You grip his gloved hand tighter for emphasis. Wordlessly, they converse, eyes flitting between you and the manor.

“Please I just need someone to carry him to the hospital.” You shakily take your coin pouch out, the contents clinking against each other. “I can pay,” your eyes water. “I can pay both of you.”

With a nod and a smirk from the older guard, they open the gate, promptly closing it behind them.

“Thank you! Oh thank you!” Leading them towards the alleyway, you speed walk back. “This way, hurry!”

They obediently follow you into the dark.

You step into the darkness, they look around the empty alleyway, “oi! Where's—?”

Yuri emerges from the darkness accompanied by Finn, their guns drawn pointing it right at the guards’ temple.

“Don't move,” Yuri says with a tilt of her head. “Or…you know what happens next.”

You look away before a metal hits flesh in a sickening thwack! They drop harshly on the ground, your cue to look back.

Finn drags the bodies further into the alleyway, away from any prying eyes. You step to the side, giving him space.

“Good job, have you ever thought of a career in theatre?” Yuri asks, sporting two new muskets strapped to her back.

You wipe your eyes free of unshed tears. “I'll think about it.”

“This is it then, landlubber? I really hope I see you again.” She holds your elbow, surprisingly, you don't flinch away.

You fondly smile at her, “Me too, Yuri but I think I'm still needed here.” Your trouser pocket clink as you tap it.

Meanwhile, Hobie and the trio sneak into the manor that's now left unguarded. They go around the large home, finding a servant's back door. Gwen jiggles the doorknob.

“It's locked.” She whispers, kneeling down, she takes a lockpick from her belt. Hobie and the others watch her back.

After numerous tries, the lock pick breaks. Gwen clicks her tongue, taking out another lockpick.

Seven lockpicks later, sweat dribbles on Gwen's neck, the door still sits locked. She looks at Hobie frustrated, brows knitted together.

“Hey!” You whisper shout. All four of them look at you, eyes wide, eyebrows raised. Taking out the ring of keys, you show it to them with a large grin.

Hobie jogs over to you quietly, the full moon watches his lips slowly curve into a smile. “How'd you—?”

“Pickpocketed it from the guard.” You smile back, “that's a new lock.” You gesture with your chin, whispering your words. “The usual lockpicks won't work on it. Here” giving the keys to Hobie through the gate, his hand linger on yours as he looks at you with shining eyes. “What?”

“You–” he chuckles. “You know how to pickpocket?”

“What? Like it's hard?” You joke, earning a deep laugh from Hobie.

“How do you even know about the locks?”

“Look who's asking the questions now,” you smirk. “I'm full of surprises I guess.”

After a beat, he stares into your eyes. “Stay with us”

Your heart skips a beat. “What?”

“I know you heard me, scuttlebutt.”

“I–” you consider it, but what would happen if you stayed? What would happen if you join and they still leave you down the road? It's better to go now and save yourself from the heartache.

“I can't” you let his hand go. “I have to go. Good luck, Hobie”

Walking away, you didn't miss how his smile falters.

It's better this way.

—

The smell of the musty tavern brings you back. A plate of ham and beans left almost untouched, it's not the same as Finn's. it tastes like tree bark compared to your meals on the ship. Huddled in a corner, you mindlessly read the book Hobie gave you, its pages pristine and well taken cared of.

You shut it closed, with your eyes growing heavy, you wonder where you're going to be sleeping tonight.

The doors bang open, a loud rambunctious group saunters in, yelling for drinks.

“First round’s on Gwen!” Someone shouts.

“I don't even drink, you fucker!” Gwen shouts back.

Wait, Gwen?

“Gwen?” You mumble.

Like fate, Gwen finds you amidst the crowd. Her eyes widen right before a smile replaces it.

Pavitr yells your name first, pointing at you like he hasn't seen you in years. Everyone follows his finger, the rest of them cheer, pushing patrons away to get to you. James shoves Danny out of the way, taking the closest seat next to you.

Ned grabs both of them by the hem of their shirts, “give her some space, fuckin' hell!”

You give him a smile as thanks, he nods once, mock saluting you.

Yuri guffaws loudly. “I knew it! We're meant to be together, eh?” She shakes your shoulder, planting a loud smooch on top of your head. You giggle, waving her away.

“Alright, let's all calm down.” You laugh loudly, “Mug, watch your stitches!”

“Sorry,” he murmurs.

Gwen sits next to you with a small smile while half of the group head on to the bar to order their alcohol.

“How'd it go?” You whisper to her, “where's Hobie?”

“Everything went well.” Her eyes darted all over the place. “Hobie went back to the ship to store the papers.”

“What's wrong?” You look around, trying to find what's gotten her nervous. “You alright?”

“Yeah, it's just—I don't know.”

“It was too easy.” Miles pipes up, handing Gwen a cup of something warm.

“That,” she nods as thanks to Miles, sighing. “He's right, it seemed too easy. We sneaked in, never making a sound.” She whispers closely. “We only saw three housekeepers in the entire manor and you know how these officials are.” you nod. “I'm just keeping an eye out for everyone, just in case.”

“That's why we chose this tavern, it's far from the manor.” Miles explains. “What are you doing here anyway? Aren't you supposed to be out and adventuring right now? Y’know ‘finding yourself’” he makes quotation marks with his fingers.

“I was just resting. Am I not allowed to rest?” You sarcastically say.

“Oh I'm not gonna miss you on board.” He sips from his cup.

“Sure, say how's that tea taste? Like shit right? I bet you're gonna miss the brew I always make for you” you ask with a teasing smile. Gwen chuckles next to you.

“You're horrible.” he says into his cup of swirling dark liquid. A ghost of a smile hiding behind the ceramic.

A bundled loaf of bread drops in front of you, almost shattering the plate of so-called ham and beans. Looking up, you see Finn nodding at you.

“Thank you, Finn.” You smile at him, he grunts in reply, heading towards the rest of the group.

Pav visibly sags into his chair, blowing his bangs out of his face.

Used to his attitude, you tilt your head, asking him. “What is it, Pav?”

“I'm tired,” he sighs. “And I'm gonna miss you.”

You feel heat behind your eyes. “I'll miss you too, Pav, and our late night talks.”

“You kept me awake,” you chortle. Pav tentatively reaches for your hand over the table, letting him in, you open your palm wordlessly. “I guess we didn't hit any rocks because of you chattering endlessly. So thank you.”

You smile, squeezing his hand once.

He drops his sadness, going back to his usual self. “Are you sure you can't stay? Come on! We've got…” he thinks for a second, finding the bread on the table he gestures towards it. “Bread!”

“A lot of places offer bread, Pav”

“Yeah, but they're not Finn's bread”

He's right, they're not Finn's, or Gwen's or Miles’ or Hobie's. They're not from the crew and nothing will ever be once you finally leave. Despite all of these, you smile, standing up with shaky legs.

“I have to go.” Your small voice echoes in their ears, they look at you with fond smiles. “Thank you, really.” You think about hugging them but you change your mind last minute, it's better this way, you say to yourself.

You wave goodbye, fighting yourself from looking back.

Exiting the tavern, the cold evening air blasts your cheeks, a tear escapes and you wipe it immediately.

“Y/N, wait!” Gwen runs after you. You stop in your tracks, looking over your shoulder with a sad smile.

You can't keep doing this, you need to leave, your mind tells you but your heart says otherwise.

“Here.” She hands you a hefty bag of coins, the pouch is pink with her name embroidered on it. “for your travels and as a thank you for helping with the crew.”

You shake your head, “I can't take this.” Pushing it back towards her. She gives you a stern look worthy of a first mate. “Gwen, I can't. Give it to the children, I don't want it.”

“You won't survive another day with what you have on you right now” before you could protest, she stuffs it into your bag. “You can pay me back when we meet again.”

You nod, “Alright, I'll pay you back. I promise”

“Good luck and I don't know if this might be helpful but we're heading north. If–if you want to come aboard again we'll be near the thousand islands. Waiting” the moonlight illuminates her sad eyes.

“Thank you, I'll think about it.” You turn around but you look back against better judgment. “Can you tell Hobie…just say thanks for me.”

“Will do Y/N.” Gwen smiles genuinely at you.

So you walk with no true destination. You roam around on your tired feet, waiting until something happens, you don't know what it could be and you're too fatigued to think right now.

A cat meows in the alley, followed by a chorus of soft mewls. Its bright green eyes blink slowly at you, an orange tubby and cream colored cat sidles up to the black cat. They meow simultaneously, getting your attention. Their noses probably got a whiff of the ham you've pocketed.

“Hungry?” You squat, taking the covered ham to give it to them. They take bites, sharing the meat with each other. “Yeah, I know the feeling.” sighing, you look at the end of the alley, your heart almost falls when you see the same engraving of a bird taking flight stamped on the side of a crate, followed by another and another.

“What the fuck.” You speed walk towards the docks, ankles hurting from all the running you've done. “Hey!” You yell at a worker who's currently loading the crates in a ship.

“Oi yourself” he turns around, hands on his hips.

You try to catch your breath, “what's that?” Pointing at the crate, the man looks at you like you've lost your mind.

“A fucking crate, love. You haven't seen a crate before?”

“No, I meant the design, the fucking sigil.”

“Ah, it's clearly a blue jay. look at its tail.” he gestures at the tail.

“That's— that's not what I was asking but thanks, I guess. I meant the sigil. What does it mean? And where is it going?” hope fills your chest.

“I dunno about the symbol, I just haul them in. As for where we're going, I'll tell you. For a price of course.” He smiles, showing his teeth with one gold fang.

“Fine.” You don't hesitate giving him a coin.

He chuckles, pocketing the money immediately. “Further north, near the capital.”

“The capital.” this is your chance so you take it. “How much? How much to board?”

He laughs at her face. “If only you were a man!” He eyes her up and down. “Clearly you're not.”

You scoff, glaring at the man. “You're fucking nasty.”

“Y/N?” The simple call of your name sends shivers down your spine.

Your heart stops beating for a second, you bolt it out of there without looking back at him. You know it's him, his booming voice yells after you, loud footsteps echoing in the night.

“Y/N!” Miguel yells.

His partner appears from an alleyway, you sprint past her without sparing her a glance.

“Whoa!” She yelps, almost falling on her back.

“It's her!” he screams, voice cracking from the sheer volume. “Lyla, it's Y/N!”

“Oh shit!”

You hear two sets of running footsteps behind you. There's no advantage for you this time, you don't know the city and its streets. It's only a matter of time before you walk into a dead end.

“Fuck!” With your aching knees, thighs burning, lungs gasping for air, you head towards the only sanctuary you can think of and where people can help defend you—The tavern.

You can feel him getting closer and closer to you, turning a corner, your ankles almost give out from the sudden turn. “No, no, no!” Limping slightly, you continue to run as fast as you can with a sprained ankle.

“Y/N, please!” His partner yells.

The familiar roof of the tavern peeks over all the houses, a beacon of hope for you. With a sudden tug on your arm, your body harshly takes an unwanted turn to the right. Strong yet familiar set of arms holds you, a calloused hand covers your mouth as you struggle to get out of the alcove.

“Calm down, it's me.” He whispers close to your ear.

You stop your squirming, looking up, Hobie's serious face looks at the opening of the alcove, eyebrows knitted together in anger.

Your back is squished on his chest, shaking hand holding his wrist. The dark alcove saves you as Miguel and Lyla run past.

Hobie takes his hand off your mouth, you heave, almost falling to your knees if not for him still holding on to you.

“Thank you.” You whisper like he could still hear you.

“Why is the former admiral comin' after you?” He turns you towards him in the cramped space, your knees banging on his legs, hips dangerously close to his.

“What? He's an admiral?” There's no way he's an admiral. You try to remember the day but it's been years, you don't recall him ever wearing a uniform.

“Yeah, he's—” Hobie shuts up, hearing voices from outside your little alcove.

It's him.

You look behind you and it’s a dead end. Craning your neck up, you have an idea.

“We need to climb up.” You quietly say, heart beating rapidly.

“Are you sure you can do it?” He looks at your swollen ankle.

You nod, “I don't have a choice.”

Hobie nods, lips tightly closed. “Alright. You go first, if you fall I'll catch you, again.” He doesn't waste an opportunity does he?

With your feet laying flat on the wall and your hands on the other side, back straight. You slowly make your way up. Hobie's close behind you, doing the same but managing his speed, slowing down for you.

Looking down, you almost fall as your ankle throbs.

Miguel's voice echoes out in the darkness, he's close.

“It's alright,” Hobie encourages you. “I'm right here, yeah? If you fall we'll run, even if I have to carry your arse out of here.”

Why couldn't your savior be Gwen?

With a roll of your eyes and a groan, you continue to climb up. Finally reaching the top, the moonlight greets you. Hobie helps you up by pushing you up by your feet, careful of your injury.

Laying down on the sodden roof. You roll over to the side to help him up by his hand, pulling with all your might.

Hobie climbs over the edge, laying down next to you, breathing heavily.

“I underestimated the height of that.” He says in between breaths.

“I underestimated how heavy you are.”

He pats his stomach. “This is pure muscle, trouble.” turning to face you, his piercings shine in the evening's light, smile across his lips like you're not hiding from someone.

“Full of Finn's stew more like.”

“I'm a growing boy, I need the sustenance.” he twists, looking below. “They're gone, I see them walking back towards the docks.”

You let yourself breathe again, head thumping on the roof. “Thank fuck.”

“Don't you mean thank me?” Hobie lays down next to you again, you groan in reply. “How's the ankle?”

“I think it's just sprained—” A twig snaps, you swear the roof caved in a bit. “What was that?”

“Shit, I think it's the—”

Crack!

The roof caves in, Hobie lunges for you mid air, holding on to you, hand guiding your head on his chest as he braces for impact.

You land on top of Hobie, he groans in pain, your eyes adjust at the candles littered around the frilly room.

“Shit! Are you bleeding? Please don't tell me you hit your head!” you frantically pat behind his head. Instead of warm ichor, you feel something soft.

You pull it out from behind his head without warning. He yelps when his head hits the carpeted floor.

Wincing, you apologize. “Sorry.” looking at the pillow in your hand, you're more confused than ever. More confusing than the sight of a crystal ball sitting in the middle of the table.

Roaming your eyes, you stop at a woman clad in furs and velvet, she stands frozen with her teacup in her hands.

“Uh, welcome to Nellie's?”

—

You're incredibly glad Nellie's nice, she even gave you ice for Hobie's back, ice! In this season! There's also ice on your swollen ankle, the cold seeping through your skin, giving you reprieve from the pain. You bet she's rolling in coins judging from all the generous ice she's given. Maybe you should learn how to be a fortune teller from her. You think about asking her if she needs an apprentice.

After dropping off almost half of Gwen's money to pay for the roof, you stare at it longingly, already missing its weight inside your bag.

She comes out of her kitchen, the beaded curtains flutter as she moves through it.

“Shoulders.” Hobie grumbles. He sits next to you, back hunched while you hold the ice on his back for him. “Y/N, move the bloody thing.”

“Right, you can say please, you know.” You slide the cloth covered ice up to his shoulders, he hisses when you hit his tender muscle. “Sorry, my fault.”

“Definitely your fault.” He quietly says with a pout.

“Oh don't be such a baby,” Nellie drops off a silver tray full of tea and crumpets. “I foresaw that you'll heal in no time.” she says with a smile.

Hobie raises a brow skeptically. You wordlessly communicate with him, telling him to shut it or she might call the coppers on you two. He sighs, rolling his eyes, taking a bite of a crumpet.

“So Nellie, you're a fortune teller huh? How exactly do you uh do that?” You ask, making conversation, careful of your words.

“I'm so glad you asked!” she giggles excitedly, pouring you and Hobie a cup each. Nellie drops a cube of sugar and milk in yours just like how you like it while Hobie gets three cubes. Wait.

Hobie beats you to it, “How'd you know I like my tea with three sugars?” He says with his mouth full.

Nellie smiles, tapping her temple. “I have the gift.” She sits down across from you, “although it's not always accurate, but I give it a” she sucks in her teeth, thinking. “Eighty percent chance of being right? My trusty crystal ball helps in filling the gaps.”

She gestures around the ball, making whooshing sounds.

You and Hobie share a look.

“Do you want a go?” She flicks her different colored eyes at you two. “I'll throw it in for free since you paid me already for the damages. I know I'm incredibly nice, no?”

You have nothing to lose, and you have to wait until Hobie recuperates. Said man eats his third crumpet.

“Sure, why not, right?” you chuckle nervously.

“Lower back.” Hobie instructs, you scoff before doing what he asked. He did save you again, that's the only reason why you do what he asks for.

“Fantastic! Let's start!” She claps her hands, the inside of the crystal ball swirls, pearlescent colors shining inside like water. “Oooh let's start off with you!” Nellie addresses you, you straighten up in your seat.

She roams her ringed hands around the ball. “I see that you're running from someone, M? I think?”

You look at Hobie in the corner of your eyes. He thickly swallows his crumpet. “Shoulders,” he says lowly. You move it up, annoyed.

“And for Mr. Hungry here,” she glances at Hobie. “Oh, I see the letter M too! You're more alike than I thought!”

Hobie stops eating, exchanging his crumpet for a cup of tea.

“Hmm, and a J? For…” she narrows her eyes, looking directly at the swirling colors. “The both of you, again. Huh?” Nellie chuckles, “that's— I've never seen that before, even from other couples.”

You swallow thickly, not bothering to correct her.

Taking your tea from the tray to calm your nerves.

She's dangerously accurate.

Her bright demeanor suddenly falls, her mismatched eyes empty and devoid of light. Her smile fades. “Something lurks in the water.” She says flatly.

“Alright, we should go.” Hobie stretches his back. “This is all bollocks, let's go–”

Nellie suddenly punches the table. Hobie sits back down, holding your wrists just in case he needs to run.

“I see the blazing sun and sand beneath your feet” She sharply turns towards you. “Don a white dress and you'll find what you're looking for.”

You take your wrist away from Hobie. “What do you mean?”

She ignores you, twisting suddenly towards Hobie. “I see blood and steel kissing your neck if you stay on the path. Answer her call and you'll be safe.”

Hobie looks at her with an unreadable face. Fists tightly closed. “Whose call?” She ignores him, blinking rapidly.

Nellie smiles back, the light in her eyes coming back. “Oh look at that! I see the same white dress and sun in yours!” She giddily says to a confused Hobie. “A beach wedding perhaps?” She giggles while you and Hobie are shaking in your seats.

Hobie has had enough, taking your wrist again, he stands up. “Thank you for the hospitality and for not screaming bloody murder but we have to go.”

“To plan the wedding?”

“No, to murder and pillage.” Hobie takes the ice from the floor. “Goodbye”

“Uh sorry about the roof!” You yell back. He tugs you outside.

“Wait, are you two pirates?” Nellie asks into the now empty room, scratching her head.

—

The sun is rising as you and Hobie sneak quietly out of town and into the secret dock where the revenge rests.

You can't help but exhale out your nerves once you reach the ship. Hobie's shoulders visibly relax, waving towards Gwen who's eyes widen when she sees you. Pavitr stands next to her, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You shake your head rapidly, he gives you a thumbs up while Miles has the most disgusted look on his face.

Hobie turns around, “You comin’?”

You contemplate what happened today, your bones are aching and begging for sleep.

“I–I need to go.”

Hobie could only nod, walking away from you without looking back. “Lift the anchor” you hear him say from the ship.

The crew waves back at you, faces of different variety, some smiles, some could only look at you with sad eyes. Finn nods, a small smile on his lips. Gwen leaves, sparing you a glance. You think you hear Yuri yell ‘no, my wife!’ you chuckle to yourself in the empty dock.

You watch as the people's revenge sails further away, the anchor lifting back up slowly.

North. The word jumps back at you. They're heading north.

Without thinking, you run.

Your ankle screams for you to stop, but your grin says otherwise. You pray to every divine entity out there to help you reach the anchor in time and to not let you drown.

“Wait!” You yell. Everyone runs towards the edge of the ship, watching with wide eyes as you run the length of the wooden dock.

Pavitr cheers you on, yelling loudly. Everyone else follows his lead, hands rhythmically banging on wood, screams making you run faster.

Hobie beams from the ship. Tossing off his large coat and hat, he climbs to the side of the boat through its ropes, as close as he can get to you.

With an outstretched hand, he calls for you. “C’mon, trouble!”

With a running leap, your fingers graze his palms. You don't make it.

Hobie lets himself fall, holding your hand with both arms. The crew made themselves a rope to hold Hobie while he grips on to you tightly.

You laugh loudly, seeing the human chain, Gwen holds on to Hobie's waist, while Miles holds on to Gwen, Pav and the others begin to heave you all up to the boat.

With a jump, you reach up with your dangling arm to hold on tight to his shoulder.

Hobie beams down at you, “I hope you've read the book because these wankers might let us go for shits and giggles.”

“No I haven't,” you say above the wind, feet dangling several feet off the deep waters. “But I trust them. I know they've got me.”

The sun wakes up to loud cheering and smiles.

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girlbossblackbeard · 9 months

Text

S2 TRAILER ANALYSIS WITH 1 BILLION SCREENSHOTS

obligatory warning that this post is gonna be SOOOOOOOOOOOOO foolishly long and rambling with all my silly little theories and thoughts and if you ALSO have silly little theories and thoughts you should ABSOLUTELY share them here please!!!! we can clown so much harder when our cacophonous honking harmonizes!!!!!!!

NOW ONTO THE POST (putting it under a read more so tumblr doesn't literally explode):

-the revenge looks BUSTED AF: i don't know if this is from general disrepair when ed is in his kraken era or if she was in a battle but her sails are all dirty in the opening shot of the trailer, and later we see stede on her deck with tattered sails and ropes everywhere, AND i'm like 99% sure that the shot of buttons ziplining from one ship to another is him going from the Chinese warfleet ship to the revenge, which i'm guessing is essentially stuck bc the sails are so torn they would never be able to catch the wind strongly enough to move her. I also wonder if the shot of roach shooting a canon at something is him shooting a canon at her since we had all those allusions to her exploding from samba, vico, and david on twitter all those months ago

-stede's earring: he DOES NOT HAVE THE EARRING when we see him lying on the deck next to roach and sighing dramatically nor does he have it during his conversation with Olu about stede dumping him, but he DOES have the earring in later shots like the beach english fight and when he's talking about being a failure his whole life which means WE WILL GET TO SEE STEDE GET HIS EAR PIERCED!!!!!!!!!! we'll get to see him make the decision to look even hotter and who knows who does the piercing for him idk!!!!!! @sluterastede had a dastardly beautiful thought in her brain about ed giving stede the piercing and stede making groaning noises and izzy once again thinking they're flapping their jacks right there on the deck in front of god and everybody!!!!!

-stede is spilling his heart out ("i let him down. i should've just told him how i feel") to susan on her ship (you can tell it's her by the long hair)

-interesting that there's a drawing of a donkey next to ed's wanted poster considering s1 had the line "a rich donkey is still a donkey". also i can't really read what the surrounding posters say other than "WANTED 20 GUINEAS". is this in the republic of pirates?

-stede says "i will find him" meaning ed may be actively avoiding stede at the beginning of the season???? (or the basic laws of travel physics have finally caught up to them)

-"look, captain, you know blackbeard's gonna murder you" i just think it's interesting that Olu is referring to him as blackbeard again even though ed told everyone in his pink robe era to call him ed. like it makes sense that he'd say blackbeard considering ed is on a rampage but it just made my brain wheels start spinning

-the Kraken crew are eating cake :)

-ed is holding a torch while letting the storm rain down on him: i don't think the laugh we hear is his because i don't think his mouth is even open during that slow-mo shot

-STEDE with a TEAR in his EYE as he says "i think i hurt him pretty bad"

-ed sobbing on the floor while the little bride cake topper is next to his head

-ed choking on the weed smoke i'm ACTUALLY crying, but also: where the fuck is ed when he's sitting in the chair smoking??? i thought it was on deck at first bc above his head is really dark and it looks like the lanterns we see on the deck of the revenge but there's a chandelier too?? it might be whatever shop Anne Bonny and her friend "you two know each other?" run bc behind ed in that chair is just a bunch of random furniture and a chandelier like we see when ed and stede are at the market. in fact, i think ed is smoking with Anne Bonny because I think that's her hand in the corner of that shot:

-"no more booze, no more drugs, and no more _____" not sure what the end of that sentence could be but we know that the "stede" that was put in there is NOT what he actually says!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-"you two know each other?" now hold on a sec because it kinda sounds like stede met Anne Bonny and Co. separately from Ed/before that market scene (maybe in the teaser clip of Anne on Stede's lap??) WHAT IF WE GET THE AITA SCENARIO WHERE ED AND STEDE TELL PEOPLE ABOUT THEIR VERSION OF EVENTS AND NO ONE REALIZES THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT EACH OTHER UNTIL THAT MOMENT BC THEY'RE BOTH SO BIASED ABOUT ONE ANOTHER

-the evil guy definitely got his nose sliced off by Jackie. good for her :D I also don't think the evil guy is Hornigold, i'm still holding onto my theory that the man in the white rags we saw in the teaser and this trailer is hornigold's "ghost" that ed needs to contend with to find his inner peace or whatever a la stede with nigel's "ghost". but i DO think the evil guy is the rich prince dude from that leaked audition tape from rhys's friend. if memory serves, the guy wants to buy his way into the pirate lifestyle but he's pompous and entitled which makes him reckless. based off the production stills we also got today, he still had a nose when he went into Spanish Jackie's...but i don't think he leaves with one. so because he gets butthurt over invading a space that was NOT meant for him and faces the consequences of purposely disobeying their customs, he defects to the english navy and goes on a rampage against all piracy, very MRA energy :/ also, later izzy says to him "you don't know the first thing about piracy" which would further support that this guy just tried to buy his way in

-izzy gets an honest-to-god pegleg but he doesn't start the season off with it because we see him in several shots with both legs, like the wedding raid and swordfighting stede on the beach. unsure if he loses it due to infection from the toe situation or if he gets shot in the knee like i've seen some posts talk about, but @sluterastede mentioned that one of the leaked audition tapes for archie included dialogue about an amputation so maybe that character has to uh. Get Her Roach On

-as i mentioned before with the teaser analysis, izzy is clearly training stede for something and now im guessing it's the english but like we kinda knew that !

-olu is in a bar fight??

-THE "ED GETS CAUGHT IN A BUCKET ON A ROPE DURING THE STORM AND GOES OVERBOARD" THEORY IS OUT. THE "ED TIES HIMSELF TO A MF BIG ASS ROCK AND JUMPS OFF A GOD DAMN CLIFF TO GO ON SOME SOUL-SEARCHING JOURNEY UNDER THE SEA" THEORY IS IN. and what the FUCK is the rag man doing with ed up on that cliff hello?????? if my theory is correct and that is in fact hornigold's ghost or whatever, what advice or harmful shit is he saying that makes ed do that?????????????????????? but do note the large rock with the rope around it in the first pic

-the revenge crew is blowing up SOMETHING on the side of a building. maybe to cause a distraction or gain access inside the building? is it the side of Spanish Jackie's?? also hiiiiiiii lucius <3

-"our entire escape relies on this" i'm just assuming they're trying to escape from the english bc that seems to be the Big Bad of the season??

-not plot related but during the rope swinging training session izzy slaps stede on the ass and makes this face (sir??????):

>he also has his pegleg here so their mentorship may ramp up after izzy is out of commission for hand-to-hand combat. maybe izzy was supposed to have a larger fighting role alongside ed in defeating the english but once he became incapacitated he realized he would need to train someone else up for the job so ed would be sufficiently protected. but it also had to be someone izzy knew would be willing to die for ed to save his life if it came to that, just like izzy would

-"i've been a failure my whole life. it's not so bad once you get used to it" is stede talking to ed here? is that ed's hair in the corner of the frame??

>side note: as mentioned above, stede also has his earring by this point!!

-"you're going through that 'if i was a regular dude' phase" first of all, SPANISH JACKIE AND EDWARD TEACH BEST FRIENDS TRUTHERS RISE UP. second, why would ed be considered a regular dude now?? how did he lose his reputation? did he willingly give it up or was it taken from him? is this permanent or just temporary? or did he fake his own death with the cliff and the rock thing so he could retire and live a more normal life?? the swede doesn't seem scared of him at all in the final clip from the trailer, straight up asking him if he's poor and going "back to basics". of course, that could just be a power trip from being one of Jackie's newest husbands (or at least her waitstaff)

-possibly totally minor/just a continuity error thing, but: ed has a red ring. we saw it in s1 as he picks up the rather fine cashmere and we see it as ed dramatically drapes himself across the ship's helm with his head on his hand. we do not see it in the scene where he's smoking (see above) or the scene where he's talking to the rabbit. now, if you'll allow me a little bit of clownery for a moment, red has been explicitly coded in this show to be a symbol of love/the heart, especially as it pertains to edward like his red silk scarf as a metaphor for his heart in s1. what if. what if he. gave the red ring (his heart) to. SomeOne. because.....................because his heart belongs to st--[GUNSHOTS]

-olu, jim, and archie with garlic around their necks and making a cross with their fingers - clearly they think someone is a vampire on the ship. @sluterastede proposed it could be izzy, especially if he's on the brink of death due to an infection and frenchie managed to spread his superstitions to other people on the ship!

-THIS FUCKIN GUY. WHO ARE YOU??? it seems like he kidnaps stede and his crew and throws a party on the ship and drugs the drinks which is why everyone is kinda tripping/laughing in some parts. but then everyone gets tied down (stede to the mast, wee john's hands get squished, olu and roach's heads get squished, and jim and archie's feet get secured to the ship's railing i think??). also that wide shot is definitely the rando dude hitting some shrill high note at the same moment the revenge crew cry out in pain from all the squishing (except maybe jim and archie - they might just be laughing at the others bc they're badasses and this pain is nothing). also don't know what the guy is looking at when we first see him but im thinking maybe it's a wanted poster of stede and he's looking at the description of the gentleman pirate to confirm it's the dude right in front of him/that he's captured?? also i think roach is wearing flowers from the drug party in his apron when he fires that canon, so maybe he's tripping too and shoots a canon?? i need a prayer circle for the revenge's safety at this time

-stede has a bullet hole???????????????? did ed fucking shoot him in the heart?????????????????????????? he also notably does NOT have the earring in this scene but he does have the sexy stiddies (blue) shirt like we see in the other shot where he DOES have the earring. maybe this weirdo dude pierces stede's ear bc he thinks stede needs to look more piratey?? or stede gets absolutely sloshed (or drugged) and gets his ear pierced idk !!! maybe jim does it bc they're effortlessly cool and has a bunch of ear piercings!!!

-idk if this is a coincidence or not but i'm pretty sure stede in his training scenes with izzy is wearing the clothes he wore in that final shot of s1 as he rows to find the crew on the island (white linen shirt, dark pants, brown belt and boots). so either costume changes are happening later in the season, they're reusing outfits like normal people do, or the training montage happens extremely early on in the season

-so originally with the teaser trailer i thought ed falling in the water was followed by the shot of ed coming out of the water on the beach. i don't know if i fully believe that anymore because ed is NOT wearing his jacket on the cliff (see above), but he IS wearing it as he comes up out of the water, so either it's two different events and ed just spends a lot of time in the water this season or he puts his jacket on before jumping off the cliff

-ed his holding his right side as he slashes that dude on the beach so he definitely got hurt in battle but i hope it's not him getting stabbed bc ur supposed to cleverly take the sword on the left where all the unimportant bits are :(((

-I VERY STRONGLY BELIEVE that the person in the scene where stede turns around and shoots his gun into the air and everyone else on deck suddenly draws their weapons against that person is our boy lucius!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he's wearing a beret?????????? @sluterastede proposed that lucius got picked up by the english navy after getting thrown overboard and that's why we see him in the english navy garb (which we later see frenchie in too?? i believe an infiltration fuckery is afoot). also the fact that the shot immediately after this one is of Black Pete doing a happy little fist pump which i'm choosing to interpret as a cute little easter egg symbolizing Pete gets reunited with his love. i also also also believe lucius is in the shot of buttons about to zipline from one ship to the other. i missed him :')

-okay i know i said in an earlier post that stede running across the beach was romantic but i changed my mind and i think izzy is just making stede do cardio as part of his training lol. his outfit matches the one he's wearing when swordfighting izzy in that earlier wideshot and i think he even still has the scarf belt and the full beard in both scenes (explained at the end of this post via production stills) so maybe they have an honest to god training montage that takes course over several days and we get an incredible 80s powerballad to play on top of it while stede thinks of ed to motivate him or whatever. david jenkins hire me to help write season 3 i have ideas

-i think jim is behind stede as he breaks into the weirdly religious room we saw in the teaser when stede punches that guy??

-ed is pretty bloodied in the shot of stede leaning over him and saying VERY worriedly "ed????" so my theory is that ed got hurt in battle or he was taken captive by the Chinese warfleet and stede was worried he was grievously injured. however, once ed comes to and realizes who's kneeling over him, he gets pissed and headbutts stede because he's still mad at him for breaking his heart, and maybe his hands are restrained/his body is too weak so he can't push stede away. or maybe they had to begrudgingly work together on some mission and stede fucked it up and ed got hurt so he's mad about that idk!! ALSO HE'S WEARING THE CRAVAT HELLO

-ed in buttons's shirt looking so PEACEFUL what the HELL. obviously it's from the same general time as him being in Spanish Jackie's when she's talking to him about being a regular dude and later when the swede asks him if he's poor addkjfajdfhlkefh i fucking love this show and its writing so much. but ed says "no, i'm just trying something different man >:/" so i wonder if this is ed at the end of s2 or if this is more towards the middle as he's still in the thick of his healing journey. maybe buttons teaches ed about meditation and/or the tai chi he practiced with the Chinese warfleet crew??

-the BTS production still of ed with his "trust no one" tattoo also features what i believe is the treasure chest we see jim carrying off the ship in the shot where fang is smashing two dudes' heads together!

-i also think the BTS production still of stede with the beard is early on in ep 1 because he has a full beard (that im hoping someone on the revenge bullies him into shaving off to the scruff we see in the rest of the promo materials) and ALSO because he's wearing a long red scarf around his waist, which we never see again in any of the other promo material - except, however, around his neck as a makeshift cravat:

>it's the same exact material and everything! my guess is he gets his ass handed to him in a fight (maybe against izzy??) and his scarf belt gets destroyed, so he repurposes the shredded fabric into his necktie

-there's literal gold bars in the background of this production still lmao the kraken crew got BUSY during ed's goth era

>speaking of, the fucking hair dye dripping down izzy's forehead in this production still:

*sad clown noises*

in conclusion:

WE'RE BACK BABEYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

anyway that's my second dissertation on less than 2 minutes of content that turned out to be quite literally 6 pages long :)

#ofmd #our flag means death #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #edward teach #stede bonnet #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd season 2 #ofmd s2 trailer #izzy hands #the swede #spanish jackie #jim jimenez #oluwande boodhari #wee john feeney #ofmd spoilers #i don't know what i need to be evaluated for but it's SOMETHING and it's PREVALENT #i spent a collective 5 hours making this post what the whole actual fuck

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ethereal-night-fairy · 1 month

Text

To the Edge of Chaos

Chapter 1

Pirate!Gaz x Female Reader (of mixed Arab decent)

Safe to say your initial plan at robbery back fired in more ways than one. The second attempt went much much worse yet somehow by the mercy of God you aren't dead. Just trapped...on a ship...with no way out. Well not until you pay for your indiscretions made against a certain sailing master that is...

Was this a blessing in disguise? Or did you just enter a new kind of hell?

Warnings: MNDI mention of death, trauma and difficult situations, embarrassing moments, fluff and teasing, slight bullying, mention of kissing and other touching but nothing explicit, slight dub con if you squint, talk of death and mourning, crude language, attempted SA and torture (not by Gaz or the 141), Lots of blood and some gore towards the end of the chapter, talk of revenge, talk of heritage, sorry if I missed any.

To the Edge of Chaos

Masterlist

Words: 7.1k

The Sun was sweltering, practically beating down molten rays on your delicate skin. You weren't used to feeling the burn of the afternoon sun. Your fragile composition wasn't adequately prepared for the dehydration that followed. Especially not with the light reflecting off blue waves almost blinding you. White entered your vision, shooting a stinging pain throughout your eyes.

You were overwhelmed, overbearingly so. So much was going on at once. Too much to pay attention to if you wanted to stay sane for a while longer. Burning heat, sweating palms, queasy stomach. Your legs found themselves moving towards the railing in a hurry. Strong winds, crashing waves, people shouting. Your ears buzzed, your brain's way of signaling an oncoming headache. One that was threatening to throw you overboard. Much like your breakfast.

Sweat trickled down your back as your body lurched with the motions of the ship. It caused your stomach to clench with unease. Your hands gripped the railing so tight that you were afraid the wood would come away with your swaying. But you still held on. Why did everyone else make it look so easy?

You clearly weren't built to walk on ships it seems…

The hussle and bussle of your new surroundings was a welcomed distraction. Moving bodies, resulted in a busy mind. Busy minds had no time to mourn or to think about past sins. You preferred it like that. You hadn't had the time to fall apart. Not among strangers that is. A change in scenery would probably do you some good. But you'd be lying if you said you were adjusting well to it.

Having never done manual labour, you had a lot to prove to gain any ounce of respect from your new companions. Regardless of the fact that your presence here was forced. By your own doing but still forced. Escaping pirates was a lot more difficult than you anticipated. There was no use dwelling on the unfortunate circumstances that had led you to try to rob him a second time… the first time you chickened out pretty quickly.

Calls could be heard overhead for sails to be adjusted. It was probably the Captain. Captain Price as you were to call him. You haven't spoken to him since Gaz had all but begged for you to be let on board. Nothing out of the ordinary of course. He was a busy man and it was a busy ship. Easily over a 100 men and women, mostly men though. You hadn't had the time to introduce yourself to everyone but a few familiar faces were starting sticking out to you now. Some you definitely preferred to avoid.

Despite not knowing anyone closely you've already accumulated a nickname among the diverse crew. You didn't want to dive into the details of how they had decided on it. You were still lamenting the stupid decision that led to it.

“Watch yer head Fish boy!” The awful nickname rings out as the other crew members brush past you. You don't get the time to feel embarrassed as Farah calls for ropes to be adjusted from the crowsnest. You duck out of their way to the best of your ability. Your legs are still a little unsteady forcing you to grab onto the nearest structure to hold you up. Which unfortunately happened to be a person.

Whoever it was, they laugh as you clutch onto them for support while the rest of the crew go about their duties. It's only when you turn your head that you realise you've made a dire mistake. Dire to your self esteem that is.

His mirthful blue eyes bore into yours while apologies dripped from your chapped lips. Not that it would spare you from what you were about to experience. You flail about, desperately trying to find something else to hold onto. Desperately trying to find an escape from whatever it was he was about to subject you to.

“Come on lad! Find yer sea legs! Farah likes ‘er deck in tip top shape,” you watch the man who you now know as Soap (or Johnny as Ghost liked to call him) grab you by the back of the collar as you quickly wipe your mouth clean.

He seems a little childish to be stationed as a Master Gunner. But you didn't run this ship so it shouldn't bother you who had what job. But it did…it very much did.

Him having easy access to guns made your blood run cold because he was also the man who wanted you dead not long ago (not that he realises who you truly are). You shiver envisioning a situation where he did know. What would he do to you?

He hauled you over to where you were needed or ‘stationed’ to be more accurate. Not that you knew what you were doing but cleaning shouldn't be too hard. Or ‘swabbing the deck’ as Farah (the Boatswain) had put it. You just needed to stop making a mess first.

“Oh ye fragile thing! Come on scrub like ye mean it!”, he continues his teasing while you grab a brush to scrub the deck. The other men watch snickering to themselves at situations you've found yourself in.

“What? Never worked ah day in yer life? Ah don't think we'll keep ye long if ye don't cop on.” The men around you laugh again at his words, enjoying the torment he was putting you through. A right of passage if you will. Not that you appreciated it one bit. How many days will it go on for? You knew you weren't the strongest or the smartest for that matter but you were sure you could be of some use. You just needed to find out what it was.

“I'm sorry sir…I'll try harder”, you tense your aching muscles trying to put more weight down on the brush to appease the man behind you. The threat of being left behind at the next port wasn't settling well in your stomach. You felt you were about to be sick again. You looked around hoping to spot Gaz to aid you but he wasn't around. Your heart sinks with disappointment but you continue scrubbing.

“Come on fish boi! Earn yer keep! You can't keep relying on Gaz to save you.” The crew around you join in on the jeering while shame creeps up your neck right to your ears. With your already heated skin. The situation was making your skin crawl.

You hated people looking at you so closely. It puts you on edge. Especially now that you couldn't wear your veils anymore. You were so used to being hidden that the attention wasn't at all welcomed. You haven't worn them since you escaped the dungeons of the palace. The whole ensemble would draw too much attention especially when you were disguising yourself as a boy.

“Ah pretty face ain't gonna cut it here. Not like it did for Gaz that is,” before Soap could reduce you to a pile of tears you watch Farah climb down from the crows nest pulling up her sleeves as she strides on over. Her mere presence demanded all your attention.

And what a woman she was..so much confidence in her stride alone. It made you feel both safe and inadequate all at once. You wanted to be like that, resilient like her, strong like her, fearless like her.

She delivers a hefty smack just as Soap's about to open his big mouth again. Which again is met with laughter from the crew. You see quite a few women laughing now too.

“Thats rich coming from someone who's warms the bed of our Quartermaster don't you think?”

“Hey that hurt! And besides ah have other uses apart from my pretty face unlike fish boi,” Soap rubs the back of his head to alleviate the sting while he turns to face the shorter woman. Yet it seemed somehow Farah stood taller, leveling him with an unamused look. You were surprised he was so open about his relationship but then again everything goes on pirate ships it seems. Before Farah can defend you another voice rings out across the deck.

“Actually he has plenty of uses, you just won't have the pleasure of experiencing them..”, the warm sultry voice that you hated yourself for liking makes itself known in the form of Gaz climbing onto the main deck from the side of the ship.

Must have been fixing something.

Your eyes roam his body, keying in on the sweat dripping down his open beige shirt. His brass necklace gleams around his neck. The amber stones adorning it as beautiful as they were, didn't come close to the beauty of his eyes.

Once you realise you were ogling you try to look away quickly as you could. But Gaz being the sly man he is, catches you at the last second despite continuing his conversation with Soap. A sinister smirk graces his features. One that you're all too familiar with. Especially when you share a hammock with him at night. He winks at you openly causing the crew to whistle at his gesture.

“I can't believe the captain allowed ye tae bring yer boy toy on board.” Soap jokes wrapping his arms around Gaz. They looked like old friends who enjoyed teasing each other. Soap certainly loves any chance to tease anyone in his vicinity.

“You hardly have the right to complain when you get to share a private room with Ghost.” Soap laughs at his comment and there's no offense in his eyes. You suspected he liked the attention.

“Perks or being pretty and useful it seems. I'm sure Ghost would have loved you too but I think I'm more his type.”

“Didn't know ‘annoying’ was his type. But then again it must be if he’s going to deal with your drunk ass all the time.” The crew join in on the jeering until Soap starts up again unfazed by it.

Thick skin unlike you.

“You forgot about the part about me being extremely handsome.” Soap flexes his muscles earning him chuckles from the men and women around him.

“I think the power is getting to your head mate. Might have to put in a formal complaint with the captain.” Gaz smacks Soap's arm when he doesn't stop his ridiculous flexing. You watch as Farah rolls her eyes at their stupid banter before ushering Soap towards the hull.

“Run along, don't you have some actual work to do? Unless you want to go report to your lover as to why you have a handprint on your cheek,” she looks at him sternly

“Aye ah was just on meh way,” But before he leaves Soap pulls you into a headlock. It takes you by surprise as you try to worm your way out around his thick biceps.

“Work hard fish boi,” he laughs as you continue your struggle to escape. He lets go quickly but ruffles your hair which you assumed was his way of apologising.

He sends you off with a hefty smack to the shoulder. One that almost sends you flying to the floor. Farah shouts at him from behind voicing her annoyance. While you rub your shoulder to alleviate some of the ache.

Were men always this rough? Your experience with them was minimal so you weren't all that used to the touching or the rough treatment for that matter. You're shocked they even bothered to allow you on board after you tried to rob their star treasure hunter and Sailing Master but then again Gaz had insisted on you being here (to pay him back more specifically).

Your weary eyes find his again only to see him supporting an amused expression. He gives you a final wink before following after Soap.

“Ok back to work everyone! Ayah! Alex! On the foremast ropes, make sure they're secure.”

“Aye Didi” “Yes ma’am” You watch as another veiled woman and a blond man make their way to the foremast deck. The foreign words used aren't lost on your ears. You recognise the few you learned growing up. Mostly from your wet nurse and your personal maids after your mother's passing. You bet she would have taken great joy in teaching you, were she alive today.

You only have old portraits to reference her appearance to. Well not even that anymore given your circumstances. Many of the crew members either spoke the language fluently or in broken terms. It left something wanting in your heart. Having been denied learning anything to do with your mother's heritage, a bitterness settles on your tongue at the loss of something you never got to experience.

“Don't mind him. He doesn't mean harm. The men here like playing about,” you hear Farah approach you with sympathy. You just nod at her, unable to look her in the eyes due to the mix of feelings you were experiencing.

The next hour is spent with Farah teaching you to keep steady and how to scrub the deck efficiently despite probably having more important work to do. She was patient and kind but still stern enough to get the message across. Like an older sister. She made it clear you'd need to pull your weight or you wouldn't be staying long on this ship. Once she leaves you go back to throwing water on boards and scrubbing them to the best of your ability. At least your nausea wasn't so bad anymore.

-some time later

You try to focus on work, truly you do. But your body was sore from the events of a couple nights ago. Events that have led you to work on this boat. Whether you wanted to or not.

Gaz was near the captain now with a map in hand planning their next destination to god knows where. It wasn't like you had a say in where you were going. Definitely not after what happened at the river.

The skin on your lips tingles with the memory of what he did to you in the early hours of today. Salty winds sting the broken skin where he last touched you. Where he last set your skin alight. Automatically your hand reaches up to the pendant around your neck. The fiery crystal hums under your fingertips.

The magic hiding your identity, tingles across your heated skin, a constant reminder that you weren't safe here. Not completely that is.

You were convinced that he was the devil's incarnate with the way he had you pliant within seconds of having his hands on you. The last couple of nights have followed a similar structure. With him ushering you to his private corner to do unspeakable things to you. Only a filmey curtain hiding you from the sleeping crew.

He must be the devil. It's the only logical explanation as to why your mind is riddled with thoughts of him even now when you should be focusing on earning your keep and staying safe.

But despite the chiding you've given yourself, your eyes still gravitate towards his radiant face. They still seek his mischievous smile for what feels like the hundredth time today. Probably over a hundred.

You've caught yourself looking at him far too often for it to be considered normal by any means. You'd think growing up in a royal household, your lessons in decorum would kick in at some point. But no, your mind has completely betrayed you and your body was following closely behind.

You couldn't trust yourself to act with rationality especially not under his smoldering gaze. It's gotten so bad that you've even gotten a couple crew members teasing you for your crush. Despite everyone but Gaz thinking you were a boy.

You needed to get a grip on yourself. You had way more important things to worry about. Like surviving longer than a couple of days on this ship.

You didn't understand why that was proving more difficult than convincing someone pigs could fly. Hell, you'll have an easier time convincing someone pigs could fly than convincing them you didn't have a crush on Gaz.

You try to shut off your brain, try to focus solely on the tasks assigned to you. But flashes of his beautiful face still haunt your mind. They infect your senses forcing you to relive the moments you keep trying to push down. Memories of his hands on your waist, his lips on your skin, his breath fanning your face. Amber eyes striping you of your defenses.

You needed to get a grip. Easier said than done.

Those kisses don't mean anything to him. Not the kisses, not his feverish touches. That's what you kept telling yourself. It couldn't have meant anything to him. He was a pirate for one and two he had plenty of women throwing themselves into his arms.

What were you in that sea of women?

...Just another grain of sand…

That's what you've kept repeating since the incident at the river. Despite this you find yourself licking the sweet remnants of his smile off your sore bitten lips, the lips he forced apart with his tongue. The lips he stole your very breath from.

You're still unable to get the feeling of him holding your jaw ever so delicately out of your mind, or the way his hands found themselves over your throat the second you had touched his coin purse at the moment you had tried to rob him. Or earlier today how his hands slowly found their way to your hips and then to your…

Your eyes burn into the wood of the deck you’re scrubbing as a way to distract yourself from the forbidden events that occurred in the early hours of this morning.

-midnight, four nights ago

You were a fool, an utter fool.

God knows what gave you the confidence to think you could seduce a pirate. And a very handsome pirate at that. One that was surrounded by beautiful women while you were dressed like a servant boy.

The alcohol probably compromised your thinking for a little bit. Glad you came to your senses then.

The red pendant on your neck heated against your skin indicating it was working to conceal your feminine features. It was only a light glamour at best you still had to bind your chest in case anyone tried touching you unexpectedly. It was too dangerous to take everything off just to seduce him. He had a harem of women already hanging over his every word, what need did he have for you?

You could hardly compete with their full bosoms and beautiful curves. Not dressed like this anyway. You weren't competing with anyone dressed like a street rat. Maybe you could just ask for some work to do in exchange for some coins and then you'd be on your merry way to safety. Yeah that option was more diplomatic. You didn't want to steal if you didn't have to.

You mull around for a bit, coming up with the best approach to guarantee your success. The second you work up the confidence to approach him, you stride over with all the poise you can muster.

That was your first mistake. Because not even a second later the eyes of nine ferocious felines descended upon you like hell fire. You freeze in front of them like a lost cub. Playing the part of someone who was clearly out of their depth. Your hands shook as you tried to introduce yourself but you couldn't even find the resolve to utter a single word. Let alone maintain eye contact with anyone. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, much to the amusement of the woman and men watching you. Fuck..say something idiot.

Any poise you had prior to this vanished in the time it takes for a pirate to down his rum. Which you watched the majestic man do as you stood there frozen in place. The umber liquid trickled down his throat as you stared at his adam's apple bob. His sharp eyes studied you like a hawk on the lookout for prey. Licking off the remnants of the sweet nectar of his lips, his kohl covered eyes scrutinize you up and down.

Curiosity was evident all over his face. Heat followed his eyes as if he was appraising your worth, appraising your value. Practically sizing up meat to put on a butcher's block. The other men weren't much different. They eyed you with suspicion but also intrigue. You presume not many people come up to them asking for things.

The longer they stared, the quicker you wanted the ground to swallow you whole, wanted the shadows to consume you, wanted to dissolve into nothingness. The men of his crew began snickering to themselves while a woman put her arms around the handsome man's neck making sure to whisper seductively in his ear. But his eyes never strayed from yours nor did his expression change. Or the expression of the man beside him.

The woman's hard eyes locked with yours before she and her friends burst into laughter. You had no idea what she had said and you definitely didn't want to find out. Mortification painted your face while heat licked at every inch of your skin. With your nails digging into your palms you hastily backtrack still unable to voice a single sentence to save any ounce of respect one would have for themselves.

You escape with your head down low as the crew bellowed in laughter, clearly entertained by the spectacle you made of yourself.

You rush out into the cold night not looking where you were going only to collide with a brick wall. Great, make an even bigger fool out of yourself, why don't you.

You stumble back only for two large hands to steady you before you fall. Strong but gentle hands.

“Careful there boi. Watch where you're goin,” a gruff voice rings out. Your body shuts down for a second before jolting back to life. You tint your head up only to realise you've bumped into the very man you told yourself to stay away from. His obsidian eyes pierced into yours, paralysing your tongue with fear akin to venom. The night air tore into your delicate flesh as you trembled in his oddly gentle grasp.

He was a ghastly sight. That alone was enough to have you shivering with fear. With a broken skull that seemed fused to his face it looked as if death had come to deliver you to an early grave. But before you could scream or try to say anything another person joins the conversation.

“Ghost…*hiccup* please..one more.. just..one more glass…promise ah'll be.. ah’ll be good old boi *hiccup*,” you watch the man with odd haircut stumble his way away from the walk to clutch onto the back of the beastly man who was holding your shoulders. The man let's go of you with a defeated sigh only to gently hoist up his friend who clearly had too much to drink.

“Enough of that Johnny I'm taking you back to the ship.” The man called Ghost gives you a final nod before helping his friend onto his back to carry to wherever their ship was. You watch the drunk man mumble his frustration as he rests his head on the bigger man's shoulder.

Maybe you were too harsh to judge him. He seemed decent enough for a pirate if not a bit rough around the edges. He didn't seem malicious though.

You take a second to catch your breath before tightening the cloak around you. The night air was chilling you to the bone and you had nowhere to rest. Best to keep moving. It was safer that way.

-a little while before dawn

The sky took on a lilac hue as the cold air eased up on its bite. You were exhausted, truly exhausted. Your feet were now trudging along with difficulty, but despite this you knew you had to keep going.

There were many streets you shouldn't have ended up on last night. Many times forcing you to make quick detours for your own safety. But somehow you still managed to almost get dragged into an alley, twice in one night alone. Thankfully you had a dagger on you, courtesy of your uncle.

It was an heirloom from your mother's side. Gifted to you on your coming of age ceremony by your father. The ceremony you remember disappearing from the second the important parts were over. The nobles never really liked you.

You laugh remembering that you spend the day hiding in the kitchen rather than greeting guests. That was this time three years ago. You don't think you've attended many events after that, not if you could avoid them that is. You wonder if your uncle was ok. Was the royal council in shambles at your disappearance? What were they going to do once they found out the execution wasn't going to happen?

Your mind wanders as you spot some merchants wheeling their goods to the market. The smell of freshly baked bread caused your stomach to constrict in pain. It's been a while since you've eaten well. The dungeons weren't the most accommodating towards you.

The food reminded you of more simple days when your personal maid would bring you fresh fruits and scones for breakfast. Faiza was her name. The daughter of your mother's personal maid. She was one of your best friends. One who'd often conspire with you on the best plan to avoid your classes for the day. That memory seemed so distant now. You wondered what happened to her after your arrest.

Law studies were never really your forte nor were any of the other boring and tedious classes you were forced to attend. Not that you actually attended them. It was done out of spite really. You hated the royal tutors as much as they hated you.

They denied you the knowledge you wished to attain. It was often snatched from you. Books ripped to shreds when you were caught with them. Your mother's history, her native language, her home, her heritage. You were denied everything. You were denied parts of yourself.

You don't understand why the marriage happened between your parents if all the noble families hated your mother so much. At least your father loved her.

Your father tried to help the best he could but his hands were often tied. Because of the guilt he held he never forced the role of crown princess on you despite you being the only heir to the throne. He valued your happiness above anything else. You suppose he gave you all the freedom he could.

But you're understanding now how selfish that was of you. Especially when you had duties to look after, people to care for. Funny how you only realise how good life was once everything gets taken from you. There was so much guilt in your heart, you felt disgusted with yourself. There was an urge to claw at your skin in rage. But you held yourself back.

You couldn't fall apart right now, not when you were so weak. The men here would eat you alive at the first drop of blood. Like hounds sniffing for prey, any cut on you would lead wolves to your den. You steel yourself the best you can, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill over.

Your heart ached with the memories of your father and a mother you never got to know. Now left alone with no family to turn to. You pulled your cloak around you tighter, mimicking the way your father would often tuck you into bed when you were little.

He was a kind and forgiving king and an even more forgiving father. Far too kind, far too trusting for his own good. But so were you. You had learned it from him. Neither of you saw this situation coming until it was too late.

Now death haunts you while guilt runs through your veins. You needed to prove your innocence. For your father's sake if not your own.

But for that you needed money to survive. Which you didn't have much off. The last few pennies chime in your hidden purse. It wouldn't be enough, you know it wouldn't.

This side of the city was very different to the streets you were used to. There was an air of pain here you couldn't really describe or explain. Things were gloomier, more stout, less vibrant. You see children as little as four doing menial labour to survive. A sight you were never accustomed to. You keep your head low as you wander near the stalls.

One bread wouldn't hurt to take, right?

But that wasn't the right thing to do. You were raised better than that. The merchants seemed to be struggling themselves. Maybe you could ask to help in exchange for bread. The only reason you were going to steal from the pirates was because you looked like they had plenty to spare and the majority of it was probably stolen from some nobles anyway. So that knowledge made it somewhat acceptable in your mind.

You make your way towards the baker to ask if you could work in exchange for some food but before you can reach the market centre some naval officers saunter in from the east side. They were clearly drunk as they stumbled down the cobblestone road while mirthfully laughing at their own stupid jokes. You could practically smell the booze off them from where you stood.

“Oi pretty girl! Yeah you! Do ye have permits to sell here!” You watch one of guards stumble his way towards the stall of a pretty young woman. It's not long after that his friends are crowding her too. You watch them puff out their chest, trying to appear bigger than they were. They looked like fools.

“Permit? I w-wasn’t told about any permits”, the poor woman stands there perplexed by the question, unable to come up with an answer to the rapid words the men were spewing at her. She's fresh faced, new to business anyone could see that from a glance. Her stall is small with only a few flowers and medicinal herbs on display. Cowards picking on someone smaller than them.

“Yeah, a permit! You think just anyone is allowed to sell around the market!?”, you watch as a younger guard slur out his words at the poor woman. He was practically spitting his annoyance at her.

“I'm sorry sir I didn't know! Please forgive me! I'll pack up right away!” The woman hastily tries to pack and get away from the vile men but a blond bearded guard snatches her arms as she tries to put away her goods. Something boils in your blood as you watch the mannerisms they were subjugating her to.

You looked around perplexed that no one was willing to help. Everyone either ignores what was going on or looks away hastily to avoid making eye contact with the guards. How often did this happen?

“No can do sweetheart. We'll have to lock you up for the sale of illegal goods. Come with us!”, you watch as they try to haul her feeble figure across the road with them. She struggles and begs but no one does anything.

“Please sir! I have a sick sister to care of! Please spare me! It won't happen again!”, you're trembling with rage as you watch on but still unable to move. Fear grips your limbs cementing you in place.

Coward, do something! You have a dagger! Do something! Do anything!

“If you don't want to go to prison love, we have other ways for you to repay us,” the naval officers laugh as if this whole situation was a joke to them. You watch one of the men squeeze the woman's hips as she cries in pain.

At that point you don't know what came over but you grab the biggest rock laying nearby, hurling it towards the man who had his hands on her.

“Ah fuck! Who threw that!” The rock hits him square in the head, pretty hard at that too. Blood pools on his receding hairline as he clutches his head in agony. But you can't seem to care. Your nerves were vibrating and if no one was going to help, you would!

The whole group turns towards you in anger while hushed whispers circulate through the market. You watch as people duck behind their stall for safety anticipating the brawl they were about to witness.

“Me you stupid Pig!” In for a penny in a for pound as they say. You've already hit them once. What's a few more times going to do?

“Run!”, you shout at the sobbing woman before hurling rocks at the drunk officers. Adrenaline courses through your veins while you continue throwing your projectiles at them, taking great joy in their anger and pain. You watch the rocks soar through the air, landing on with a satisfying thud and a musical scream that follows.

At least your archery lessons paid off in some sense. Your understanding of range was pretty good. It was the most alive you've felt in a long time. Not counting the time you managed to slip truth serum into the punch at a ball. That was an extremely good day. So many snobby nobles got punished for insulting the royal family.

Well insulting you more specifically for your mixed blood. It's the reason you wore veils at events and in public. It would piss them off to no end. Since it was something your mother often used. Even your portraits are all with some sort of veil obstructing your face. You used it so often everyone's forgotten what you look like.

But now you couldn't wear it, it would draw too much attention since it was associated with your identity. And now that technically you were considered a boy. A cloak was the best thing you could find adjacent to what you used to wear.

“You stupid little prick! We'll drag you through the gutters for th- Fuck! Stop!” You continue to land hit after hit as you watch the woman finally put a decent distance between herself and the men. She runs like her life depended on it while you continue your onslaught.

That is until you realise the guards were getting far too close for comfort.

“Just wait till we get our hands on you!” Their faces were flushed red from rage and it gave you some sick satisfaction that you were able to piss them off. Filthy swines, they deserved every ounce of pain!

You send a final rock soaring directly into the loins of the blond man before turning and running away as fast as you could.

“Ugh! I'll fucking skin you alive boy!” You don't get to hear the rest of his cursing as you skid and duck into a nearby alley. The men give chase, hot on your trail despite them being drunk. But you were well aware of how dangerous drunk men could be like. Especially men who had any ounce of power to wield.

You navigate the winding alleys with difficulty but are still able to manage to stay ahead for the time being. Buildings blur past you as you stay vigilant on your path. But running was proving to be difficult on an empty stomach. And your muscles seemed on the brink of collapse not long after weaving through the roads.

Winds whips by your face as you hold your hood in place to protect your identity. The small streets split into many smaller routes causing you to panic in your choice, you run right not being familiar with the area.

A very bad choice it turns out to be. A wall blocks your way. The stone abrasive over your panicked hands. You hear their voice gaining up on you but you can't turn back. You'd be caught between them if you did.

Your mind races with a solution and the only thing you can do is try to climb over it before it's too late. Sharp stones dig into your delicate flesh while your arms scream in pain as you pull yourself up with great difficulty.

Your only halfway up when they come into view. Their bodies hunched over as their faces scrunched up in rage. Your legs dangle down as you try pushing yourself over. You're able to hurry over just as they try to drag your legs down. Their inhibitions were clearly lacking as they slurred curses at you as you escaped. You laugh as you hear the men groan in frustration.

Your relief is short lived to your utter shock. What you hadn't taken into account was that one of them had taken a different route and was now blocking your exit when you had climbed down, essentially trapping you between him and the wall.

“Nowhere to run now little mouse. We'll show you what we do to disobedient little boys.” He lears at you. The bleeding man looks ready to rip you to shreds. Your blood runs cold all the bravo you were experiencing had vanished in the matter of seconds. Despite this you prepare yourself to run past him.

But luck isn't on your side anymore. You try to swerve him in a panic, only to be thrown to the ground. Pain shoots up your elbow that slams into the stone. Fuck that hurt.

You hope you didn't break it. The rest of the men had climbed over by this point so there were three to your back and a large man to your front. Hastily you try to scramble to get off the ground despite the shooting pain everywhere, only to be kicked back down.

Your muscles scream in pain as the younger officer steps on your leg to keep you imobile. Your bone bends under the pressure threatening to break into two. Your nerve endings beg you to stay down, they beg you to surrender lest you break something. But you don't listen. You couldn't not when you knew what they were about to do to you.

“Don't touch me you pigs!”, you fight, you kick, you scream, you do anything to get out of their hold. Your body was ignited with rage you've never experienced before but it wasn't enough to escape the hold of four men.

“Shut it you brat!”, the man you had hit on the head tries to cover your mouth with his grimy hands while the rest of the men hold you down. But you bite down hard resulting in him back handing you as he screamed in agony. You spit out whatever filth entered your mouth, afraid it'll give you some disease. The second time he backhands you, you feel your lip slit. The metallic taste felt heavy on your tongue as blood coated your mouth.

“Hold him down idiot!”, the vile man shouted. While you continued to fight with all your might.

“I'm trying!” Greedy hands roam your body trying to unbutton your cloak. But you continued your fight, continued the struggle. Your skin crawls with disgust. This time you land a mean kick to the groin of the person trying to take your clothes off.

“Ugh You stupid bastard!” Their pain gives you enough momentum and shock value to grab the dagger in your boot to slice across the men holding you. They scream and move back enough for you to dig the dagger deeper into the man blocking your exit. The vile bastard you had no remorse for.

A spray of blood splatters across your face as you pull the dagger out of his thigh with a sickening squelch. The warm liquid felt odd on your chilled skin. It pooled around you like a spreading disease.

Blood curdling screams bounce off the walls surrounding you. But your hearing is obstructed by blood rushing to your ears. The noises don't deter you as you continue slicing across the air and their skin as they try approach you.

You're pretty sure you might have sliced someone's finger off since it lay on the floor beside you. But you couldn't stay to make sure it was your doing.

Everything from that point is a blur, you're covered in crimson. Red sticky fluid painting your hands and knees. Your body forces you to block out their curses and screams. The walls are stained red. Bodies lay covered in pools of blood. It was all too much.

You run, you don't look back, eyes always ahead. Dagger heavy in your hand you continue running, passing by unfamiliar streets and houses until only your heartbeat could be heard by you.

Red stained your vision. It haunted your sight. It was everywhere, absolutely everywhere. Blood on the ground, blood on the walls, blood on your hands. Skin marred with deep gashes and cuts. Sticky substance coating everything. Severed body parts. Streams of red chasing your feet. A river of crimson was carving its path towards you.

You push it down focusing on yourself. Your heart, your breathing, your pain. Nothing else, only you. Only you. You needed to worry about you. Streets blur until they start getting sparser and sparser giving way to familiar green lush. A serene haven at the edge of what felt like a crimson hell.

It's only when you break away completely from the hard stone roads do you collapse onto the grass gasping for air like your life depended on it. The wretched smell of metallic iron finally dissipates if only a little bit. You felt like you could breathe again.

You look back making sure the city is out of sight before you try sitting down for a second. Your heart continues to hammer as you look down at your blood stained hands, dagger still held tightly.

What have you done..Did you kill them?

You don't get the time to dwell on it when you hear distant shouts of people screaming. They know…the blood is on your hands..of course they know…

Hide! You needed to hide!

Using a nearby tree to haul yourself up you try to find your footing again. Your muscles scream at you to stop and rest but your mind told you to run. And run you do. Deep into the forest where the trees shrouded your sins. Where they blocked out the screams.

You needed to find water to clean the blood away. Something to wash away the sin….

140 notes · View notes

hamlets-ak · 11 months

Text

seaside sanctuary ༊*·˚

༘♡ speak to me in the language of lovers

during your vocation on a greek island, you and timothée spend some time on a secluded beach. a conversation you have makes him seriously think of your future together

The magic of Milos had settled over you gently and clingingly with its volcanic rock formations and golden shores. Not even two weeks had passed since the day you and Timothée arrived on the island, and you had already become one with the locals; traveling in all its cryptic passages and discovering the heart of the town.

You had found happiness in simple and frugal things like walking along pebbled pathways and marble streets with your boyfriend’s palm inside yours, fingers conjoined and tangled, quick pecks on the cheek and forehead, small glances and furtive smiles, soft laughs, warm or cold hugs, his head balancing tiredly on your shoulder and yours burying on his chest listening to his steady heartbeat.

It was Timothée’s idea to invite your families since you had only a month at your disposal before returning back to work and it was an opportunity to spend some time with them. Besides, it was such a beautiful trip, you had to share this unrepeatable experience.

Altogether you traveled with your sailboat around the island and stayed on secluded beaches, accessible only by the sea. Hours and hours had been spent under the sun; swimming, snorkeling, laying on the deck, enjoying the sunset at anchor.

Blazing afternoon sunrays penetrated your skin and blinded your vision, as the briny breeze fanned your face, pulling back strands of salty hair, tangling them with the blowing fair wind.

The Aegen was opening around you; a sapphire-colored sea that touched the line of the sky, extending to a wild yet quiet horizon. It was summer and the world was in a splendor.

Your arms were leaning on the silver railings of the boat and your gaze was up in the bright blue veil, watching the seagulls fly high and dive at the water, then rising up again, squawking loudly to each other.

A burst of familiar boisterous laughter led your eyes to the back at the cockpit. You couldn’t help but smile before even allowing your stare to pierce that dirty glass, only at the sound of his voice. Your head slowly fell to the side and stayed balanced on top of your shoulder.

Timothée’s radiant smile made you unconsciously laugh a little. And he must've noticed because even through the thick glass and the heavy blanket of water and salt covering it, he stared back at you with an electrifying glint and grinned widely as he bent down to knock at the glass a few times and then waved at you.

« Let’s go! », he told you.

You pushed yourself off the railings. Hushed murmurs accompanied by melodious giggles forced you to change your gaze from scenic islets and coves to a small group of people. Barefoot and sun-dazed, their hearts still left in the old pirates’ hideout, Kleftiko, your parents and Pauline, were laying relaxed on the boat. Their swimsuits were on, bodies still wet from their previous dive, drying under shining sunrays. Green beer bottles with the word ‘Mythos’ written on their lebels were reflecting golden beams of light, as cigarettes burnt in the air alongside sprinkles of brine and rust.

« Pauline? », you called her name. She sat better at her elbows and raised her eyes that were covered with black shades. « You’re coming? »

« Nah, » she replied throwing her head back. « I’m tired. I’ll just stay here and take a nap. Have fun though. » You nodded at her words and moved slowly and steadily to the back, hands holding tightly the ropes of the boat.

« Hey, » Timothée grinned at you.

« Hi, » you greeted him and the Captain. « Where are we right now? »

« We are at Sykia, » Timothée replied. He wrapped his arm around you, letting it fall loose on your shoulder as he held you.

« Yeah that’s right, » the Captain spoke with his heavy Greek voice that held a melodious tone only people from Cyclades had. « Once you pass that tunnel, you’ll end up in the cave, » he pointed in the direction you were already looking at. Timothée nodded in understandment, arms snaking in your lower spine, bringing you closer to his body. « And when you get inside, you'll notice that a part of the roof of the cave is missing. It was submerged years ago and now there is a kind of natural skylight. »

« Oh that’s cool, » you said turning to the scenery while Timothée’s nose was mindlessly circling your cheek and temple, tracing soft lines over your brow. Sun kissed your faces and drifted at the space between, giving away a sheen.

« It is cool, » the Captain continued. « I mean, what are you even doing in Milos if you haven’t visited Sykia? » You both lightly laughed at his words as you took Timothée’s hand in yours and pressed a pair of soft lips on top of it before he lightly patted your cheek with his hand making you grin, melting at his warm touch, and hug him tight.

You had anchored close to the cave, less than half of a nautical mile. Waves were luring the boat along with them giving it a soft waft.

Timothée waited for you to approach the edge of the boat before jumping off the stern into a calm steady sea with a thunderous splash that sprinkled you from head to toe, and then paddled the water. Quickly he emerged, throwing his head back and pulling pieces of hair that were stuck on his forehead, out of his face. With cold water stinging your skin, you lightly stepped back gasping.

« Come in! », Timothée laughed and motioned his head to you.

« It’s cold! », you slouched your shoulders, arms wrapped around your stomach. You glanced back regretting your decision of not staying with Pauline to take a nap as well.

« Come in! », he said in a more demanding tone. You bit your lips and shook your head. « I’m going to splash you. »

“No, you wouldn’t.”

« You sure about that? », he asked tossing a small wave of water in your direction.

« Timothée, it’s cold! »

« I’ll splash you. » You looked at him for a few seconds. « I’ll do it. »

« Fine, » you groaned making him smile, and without much thought jumped into the sea.

A freezing feeling struck then gradually consumed your body. Nothing but the sea was surrounding you and you kicked your feet through bitter water, gasping for air. You fought for a moment breathlessly to come to the surface and then looked at Timothée who was already a bit ahead of you.

« Wait, wait, wait! », you shouted at him. He stopped and turned around to look at you, as you paddled along the blue to be closer to him. Timothée couldn’t help but laugh, watching you all puffed, your legs weightless kicking an uncharted abyss below.

Together you glided the blue, reaching the tunnel Captain told you about. Your head moved up too distracted from watching the brown-greenish rocks above your head. Tim pulled your hand and pressed a wet kiss on your cheek.

« Let’s go, » he said, his voice echoing loud all around as if coming from speakers.

The cave had no roof just like the Captain described it. Sun rays were lighting the inside of the cave, creating amazing colorations that enchanted you. It was a unique miracle every visitor should see.

On the inside was a small pebbled beach, with rocks and crystal clear waters. There was no one there. Just the two of you.

Like true children of the sun, you swam in the idyllic calm and then ran to the pebbled shore, free, repeating the gestures of athletes of Delos.

« Aren’t you afraid it’s going to fall and crush us down? », you told him as your hands cupped in the air the part of the cave that was still up. Your bodies were close to each other, so close you could hear the smile forming on his lips.

« It’s been like that for so many years, why does it have to fall now that we are here? », he asked. You rolled your eyes and chuckled.

« I’m just saying, » you mumbled. He breathed out heavily which made you turn in question. « What? », you looked at him.

« Oh, nothing, » he laughed a little, pulling back his wet hair. You kept staring at him for a few seconds watching droplets watering the rocks below you.

« I’ve never been happier. » He wore a dreamful smile. « And I wish every day could be like that. »

« Like what? », his eyebrow slightly raised. Your mouth curled up thinking of your response as your gaze turned back to the crystal pure tapestry of the sky.

« Waking up together… making love… having breakfast… going for a walk… swimming… making love again and then having a bath together. » Your words caused a boyish grin to appear on his face and you imitated his expression. « Eating together, listening to music, watching the sunset… you laughing and me laughing because you are laughing… telling you how much I love you… »

« Sounds good to me, » he said and leaned to kiss your shoulder. You pouted your lips and looked down. Timothée frowned and then turned to the side, balancing on his one elbow, to take a better look at you.

« You won’t tell me how much you love me back? », you bit your lips trying not to smile. His face flushed at your mincing manner and how you pronounced the world ‘love’. He looked away.

« Oh, of course, I’ll tell you, » he bent lower his head and you tented your neck to catch his lips, your hand holding back his hair as he moved on top of you, dripping water running on your body. He breathed out hot air on your face making your head fall back trying to get some oxygen inside before returning to him, your heads touching and lips almost stitched together.

« Y/N, » he said voice deep echoing inside you. « I really need you to know this. »

« You don’t have to say anything. »

« No, I have to, » Tim gulped. « You walked by chance into my very messy life and from day to day, I started to breathe better. Before you, without you, I loved nothing. With you, I have accepted more things. I have learned to live. That's probably why I’ve always mixed my love for you with so much gratitude. » Your mouth slightly opened and eyes glanced away. « I mean every word. »

Without warning you kissed him on the lips. He let out a muffled sound from the force with which your mouth touched his.

« I wouldn’t have loved you any less, if you didn’t say anything, » you told him. Your stare was fixed on his plum reddish lips that tasted like salt and apricots and cherries. « But now that you did, all I can do is love you more. »

He smiled. His forehead brushed against yours as he let you lick away his grin and kiss him. First slow, sweet, soft; then harder, fiery, urgent, like a poem of Odysseas Elytis.

It was a true sisyphean work watching the way the lurking glint of your eyes and your wolfish grin dig up his most shameful secrets, without ripping the animal from within and burying himself in your streams of love and delicate words.

The waft’s stroke maneuvered between you, warm like a teenage memory, spreading sprinkles of salt and rust to the air. Bodies entangled in summer thunders, as the gentle splash of water on your toes offered a kind of peace, privacy, and safety that you had both missed.

You flapped and then stayed there in comfortable silence. But as you watched the horizon slowly bleed from the crevice of the tunnel, Timothée couldn't think of the swollen sun, honeycombs, and wasted old summers.

The only thing he had in mind was how much he loved you, how much you loved him - because he knew that - and how much he couldn't wait any longer for you to live together forever.

And as you laid together, eyes gazing at the moon and the starlit sky, bodies hugging one another, his lips lingering on your head and fingers gently storing your hair, he probably took one of the most important, life-changing decisions about your life.

He was going to ask you to marry him.

#hamlets-ak #timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee fanfic #timothee chalamet social media au #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet fanfiction

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anonymous-dentist · 2 months

Text

A Very Scary Night from the Merpepito AU

Read Parts 5 and 6 on Ao3!

The Sky is falling and Pepito is going to die.

It's loud. It's loud and the ship is shaking and rocking so badly that Pepito swears it's about to fall apart. Everybody is running around tying ropes and fixing the sails and scooping buckets of water out of the ship's hold, and the Sky is falling. Captain Celbi is at the wheel shouting so loudly that Pepito can hear him all the way from inside of Captain Celbi's bedroom, and the Sky is falling.

Pepito tries not to be too scared, though. Pepito shouldn't be scared, because pirates are never scared! Nobody but Pepito seems worried, so it's fine.

The Sky explodes again loud enough to make Pepito's ears ring.

Pomme yelps and claps her hands over her ears. Richarlyson cheers and runs to the window to look out at the falling Sky. Pepito pulls Pepito's knees close to Pepito's chest and tries not to think about how Apa Roier is five seconds away from the Sky falling onto him and sweeping him away into the Ocean, never to be heard from again.

It's fine!!

As soon as the Sky started falling, Miss Baghera had ushered Pepito and Pomme and Richarlyson into Captain Celbi's quarters. Apparently, the downstairs of the ship floods when the Sky falls, and it wouldn't be safe for Pepito and the others to stay down there.

Pepito doesn't get it, though. If the Sky is falling, that's it. There's nothing above the Sky. Does the Sky fall often enough for Miss Baghera and the other pirates to know what to do when it happens? How long has the Sky been falling? Is it normal? Because this cannot be normal.

"Get away from the window!" Pomme shouts, barely able to be heard above the wind the the falling Sky and the Sky's explosions.

"Fuck you!" Richarlyson shouts back. He presses himself up against the glass with his hands framing his face, up on his toes so far that his wooden leg hovers off of the ground beneath him. "This is cool! Come here! I think I can see the bottom of the ocean!"

That can't be right. The Bottom of the Ocean is a sacred place. Only mermaids and the Sea Witch and, like, evil sharks can go there. It's where Pepito came from, and it's where all baby Pepitos come from. Apa Mariana says so every time Ama Rivers starts talking about 'birth', whatever that is.

Richarlyson is probably just seeing part of a reef, which is a pretty big problem if it's true. Reefs are dangerous for ships. They eat them! That's why mermaids live there, it's the one place Sky Pepito Ships can't be.

The Sky explodes once more, and Pepito flinches so hard he ends up knocking his glasses off of his face with his knees. Embarrassed, Pepito puts Pepito's glasses back on. Nobody saw that.

"Hey, don't be scared," Pomme says. She gets up off of her spot on the floor by Captain Celbi's desk and goes to sit by Pepito by Captain Celbi's bed. Her knee bumps against Pepito's ankle.

"Yeah, don't be scared," Richarlyson echoes, but he sounds way meaner about it. He turns his head away from the window to look at Pepito, nose turned up in disgust. "What a baby."

Pepito puffs out Pepito's cheeks annoyedly. Pepito is not a baby! Pepito is a Big Pepito!

"Shut up, Richas," Pomme groans. "You're such a dick."

Pepito agrees, but also. Also maybe Richarlyson is right to be a... a rude person to Pepito. He seems to know that Pepito is a Bad Pepito, after all. He's always telling Captain Celbi that Pepito is stealing things from around the ship and that Pepito is the one messing with everybody's food at dinner and that's why it's too spicy and that Pepito is, like, super evil. And he always looks at Pepito when he says these things, right in Pepito's eyes, and he looks so smug about it.

One of these days, Richarlyson is going to tell Captain Celbi about the Very Bad Thing that Pepito did, and then Captain Celbi is going to tell Apa Roier because he and Apa Roier are Best Friends, and then Pepito will be thrown into the Ocean and forced to become a mermaid again and then Pepito will never see his family or his friends again.

(Pepito doesn't know how Richarlyson figured Pepito's secret out, but Pepito bets it has something to do with the Sea Witch.

Oooooh, the Sea Witch! Pepito is going to beat him up one day!)

The ship lurches so far to the side that all of the things on Captain Celbi's desk go flying off of the desk and into the far wall. Both Pepito and Pomme soon follow, limbs flailing as they're thrown about the cabin. Richarlyson joins them in a heap soon after, landing right on his face.

Hah!

Maybe Pepito is smiling too obviously, because Richarlyson immediately shouts and tackles him to the side.

"What's so funny?" he demands.

Pomme groans and pulls Richarlyson off of Pepito. (She might be smaller than Richarlyson is, but she's way stronger!)

"Are you really going to beat up a baby?" she asks, which- hey! Pepito is not a baby!

"Yes!" Richarlyson answers. He struggles in her grip. "It's his fault this storm showed up, anyway!"

Pepito frowns. He adjusts his glasses where Richarlyson and the moving ship had knocked them crooked.

Pepito shakes his head. This isn't his fault. He thinks. The Mermaid Police can't control the Sky, they're mermaids!

"Don't be stupid," Pomme says. "Look at him!"

They both look at Pepito. Pepito smiles and waves.

Richarlyson looks positively furious.

"Exactly!" he shouts. "Look at him! He's a menace!"

No, Pepito is a mermaid.

...Wait, no, Pepito is a pirate.

Pomme rolls her eyes. "He probably doesn't even know what that means. Look- Pepito, how old are you?"

Pepito thinks. He remembers a couple of parties, but those weren't really any different from any other time he went to Awuelo Foolish's house. Every day with Awuelo Foolish is a party!

But he guesses, anyway. He holds up a hand with all five of his fingers up. That sounds right, but numbers have never been Pepito's strong suit.

"See?" Pomme asks. "He's a baby."

Pepito shakes his head. Now he's starting to get angry. He is not a baby! They're both barely older than Pepito is!

"So what? He's the one who pissed off the gods," Richarlyson argues. "Think about it. Him and his dad show up, and suddenly it starts storming?"

"We're on the ocean! It always storms out here!"

"Not at this time of year! And he came here with the Sea Witch."

Pomme gasps, suddenly angry, and she pushes Richarlyson to the floor and leaps onto him with a cry.

"He's my dad!" she yells. "Shut up! He isn't evil!"

Richarlyson yelps and tries fighting her off, swinging wildly with his arms. "Get off! I'm just saying that they're bad luck! They're probably from the Navy and they probably have, like, storm magic, and they're trying to drown us and collect the bounty! It makes sense!"

"Gods, you and Captain Cellbit are both too paranoid," Pomme groans. "You need to touch grass."

"We're! On! The! Ocean!!" Richarlyson shouts, smacking Pomme with every word.

Pepito wordlessly gets up off of the floor and starts gathering some of the things that were thrown from Captain Celbi's desk. He does not want to be close to this fight...

The Sky explodes again, and Pepito jumps so hard that he almost falls over. Almost.

He fights against the ship's slope to get to the desk. At least it's bolted to the floor...

The desk is at too much of an angle for him to be able to put stuff onto it, so Pepito opens a drawer and pours his armful of things into it. At least this way, it's off of the floor!

"Hey!" Richarlyson shouts. "Get out of there!"

Pepito looks up from the drawer and can just barely see Richarlyson's eyes over the top of the desk, when did he stand up?

(Uh-oh, he looks angry.)

"Why are you always in my dad's stuff!" Richarlyson angrily asks. "You're so weird!"

"Is that what this is about?" Pomme asks, sounding very tired. "Richas, look at me."

He looks at her only as she grabs him by his face and makes him.

"Pepito isn't trying to steal your dad," she tells him.

Pepito tilts his head. Huh?

He comes out from around the desk and stands next to it, hands awkwardly hovering at his sides, unsure what to do with themselves.

Richarlyson stiffens. "I know that."

"Then act like it. Look how confused he is. He doesn't even know why you're angry at him."

She forces Richarlyson to look at Pepito.

Pepito smiles and waves again.

Richarlyson still looks positively furious.

"Your face is stupid," Richarlyson tells him. "And I'm going to keep my dad safe from you and your dad. I don't know why you're here, but I'm going to get to the bottom of it."

Pomme slaps him. "Pepito isn't an enigma! He's a baby!"

Okay, that is it!

Pepito picks up a soft-ish looking thing off of the floor- some kind of squishy little ball- and throws it at Pomme, who yelps and ducks to avoid it.

Richarlyson cackles. "Wow! Imagine pissing the baby off!"

He stops laughing as Pepito picks up a much harder thing off of the floor and chucks it at his face as hard as he can.

"Fuck!" Richarlyson shouts.

"Wow," Pomme smugly says, "imagine pissing the baby off."

"I hate you both," Richarlyson grumbles.

He wrestles himself free of Pomme's hold and stalks across the cabin and crawls onto Captain Celbi's bed and hides under the covers.

After a moment, Pepito goes to finish putting the desk's lost items in its drawers.

The Sky may be falling, and Pepito and the entire ship might be five seconds away from getting killed by the falling Sky, but he can at least clean the floor before dying. He may be a Bad Pepito, but he isn't a Dirty Pepito.

"Thank you, Pepito," Captain Celbi says when the Sky is done falling and he's inside his cabin checking on Pepito and the Richarlyson and Pomme. "I was worried that some of my things might have gotten lost in the storm."

Pepito basks in the praise, grinning wildly. He's such a good pirate!!

("Whatever," Richarlyson grumbles.

Pepito is just going to have to learn the hard way that stealing someone's dad is a bad idea. When he loses his dad, he'll be wishing he never tried stealing Pai Cellbit in the first place!)

#a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#merpepito au #oh richas...

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fanaticsnail · 3 days

Note

WHATS UPP, so I read the dreaming of you oneshot thingy on your page (Koby, smoker AND HELMEPPO) so I was wondering if you would be able to make something more of helmeppo. I read your request page and I know you might not write it but i was just curious. I’m not picky at all but since it’s helmeppo i figured it could be something like enemies to lovers.. (DOES NOT HAVE TO BE THAT IM FINE WITH ANYTHING!!) I’ve never requested anything on tumblr so sorry if I’m doing it wrong btw. I have a playlist if you’d like that for ideas 😼 (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0q63LD9Kt49EDxlOxCCQ7m?si=cWh4kWT-SR-x2evxlXn97Q&pi=u-vige6yADR-Oe) SORRY ITS A LONG LINK 😨

Hi there! I love how enthusiastic you are about Helmeppo. Not gonna lie, I definitely felt the need to write him a one-shot after that one. I love your playlist!

Bound to the Enemy

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 5,100+

Synopsis: Engaged in a heated battle between pirates and marines on neutral ground had the locals enact a punishment befitting the crime. Bound back to back with a marine, you come up with a plan to work together to break out of the trap and return to your crew.

Themes: Helmeppo x reader, enemies to lovers, mutual loathing, mutual pining, peril and dread, kissing, fluff, little bit of angst, bittersweet farewells.

Notes: Chef-Husband has been making me watch MacGyver. I apologise if this wasn't exactly what you were looking for, but I did have a lot of fun with it.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training

Slowly bobbing your head from side to side, you hummed a merry tune from your childhood to reverberate and ricochet within the damp cavern walls. Drops of water from the pointed stalactites dripped onto your head, drenching your already soaked clothes with further murkiness from the oceanic roof.

The ropes gripping your shoulders and wrists burned with a crude jolt from your companion behind you, causing you to yelp mid-word with your song. In light of his tugging, you simply laughed and sang louder.

“The sails lay flat, the wind in her back; the ropes lay in a bind,” you yelled your tune, the echo of your voice calling back at you in a taunting mockery, “The women did wail, as the sailors set sail, leaving their seed behind-.”

“-Are you quite finished?!” His aggravated tone cut your voice off, tugging the ropes and prompting you to lull your head behind you on his shoulder. “It’s bad enough being bound to a damn pirate, let alone one that doesn’t shut up!” You laughed from your position, back to back and tied to the enemy while sitting atop a large rock and awaiting death.

“Aww, pretty marine,” you coo at him behind you, nuzzling almost affectionately against his shoulder with a hint of teasing, “I thought my singing would bring such joy as we await our imminent doom.” He shrugged away from your head, prompting you to laugh harder as he burned you with the intensity of your ties.

Both of your hands were bound to each other at the wrists, your companion wriggling and attempting to free himself the moment he awoke from behind you. Your crews arrived at this strange island at the same time, immediately engaging in a heated battle filled with bloodshed and chaos. The locals did not take kindly to the ruckus and immediately implored you to stick to their stance with neutrality.

Both your crew and the marine crew surrendered and awaited adequate punishment for tainting the shore with battle and bloodshed. The punishment chosen for you was to select a member of each crew, bind them together in ropes, and place them in a cave mouth to await the tide to enter. If you managed to escape before the water choked you with its salty embrace, the marines and the pirates would be permitted to leave. If you drowned, both crews would live out the days on the island and serve the queen as her loyal slaves.

Before your captain or the pink-haired marine captain could react and volunteer themselves, both you and the blondie stepped forward and gave yourselves up. Without further warning, both of you were injected with a local toxin to cause you to fall into a deep slumber, likely to make the journey more difficult to return to your crews.

“These ropes are strong,” he growled, thrusting his chest forward and prompting you to arch your back up into him, “I can’t get the damn thing loose.” You simply offer him a condescending “Mm-hmm, that’s the point,” and let him keep moving your body around to wriggle free.

“When you’re quite ready,” you offer him, wincing as he leaned forward, “I have a blade hidden in my back pocket. I can reach it, but I will need you to stop wriggling so I can get to it.” He huffed out an exasperated breath and you felt him shake his head in agitation.

“And why are you telling me this now, pirate?” he growled at you, attempting to look at you over his shoulder to no avail, “You could’ve cut us out the whole time, and neglected to mention it?” You laughed, feeling his hands go limp to allow you to search through your pockets without a struggle.

“You were too busy being a grumpy marine to use your mind,” you shrugged, feeling the handle of the blade with your fingertips, “Always underestimating your opponents and too hot headed to exercise your brain along with your other muscles.” You use your index and middle fingers to draw the blade closer to you, finally clutching it in your hands.

The seaspray began to rise, the cave mouth starting to fill with the swell of water just as you readied the small knife to cut your bonds.

“If I nick you with the blade,” you smirk, beginning to cut through the fibers, “I’m not sorry.” The man behind you began to growl at you, holding still and allowing you to work at the ropes with ease. The first few strands came loose, giving your wrists enough room to wriggle a little easier to get enough momentum to cut easier.

“What’s your name, anyway, marine?” you asked him suddenly, feeling a little bolder and at ease now that your bonds were turning loose. He inhaled a soft breath, uttering quietly to you in response.

“Helmeppo,” he confessed his name with a soft nod, “And you, pirate?” You giggle in response, uttering your name hastily before rolling his title over on your tongue to sample the flavor.

“And who are you to your captain, Helmeppo?” you ask him, humming the same tune from earlier, a little quieter as you worked. He exhaled a laugh through his nose, “I am his first mate and swordsman. You?”

“I am the navigator and blade thrower,” you nod along, the tune never ceasing as you feel one of your wrists finally come loose. You raise it to your side and give it a soft shake and breathe slowly while stretching the limb.

Making quick work on the other side now that your wrist was free, you reach up and begin to saw at the bonds around your chest and shoulders, noticing the ties are a little more complex than you assumed they were initially. Cutting through the strands, you finally feel them come loose enough to wriggle free.

“Well now,” you sighed in relief, beginning to stand on the large rock and look down to the icy depths of the sea, “Can you swim, first-mate? Not a devil-fruit user by any chance, are you?” You looked to the blonde man beside you as he shook his head.

“I’m not the best swimmer, unfortunately,” he confessed, looking down at the sea rising up the rock, “Not a user, though. I can stay afloat just fine.” You nod along, looking at the cave mouth and angling your chin to the side with narrow eyes.

“That doesn’t look right to me,” you nod your forehead to the mouth of the cave, “The light is all wrong, and the swell in water is too rapid. I think it's a false entrance.” He looked to the mouth and nodded his head along.

“You’re the navigator,” he nodded to you, testing your knowledge beneath his staring gaze, “I am electing to trust you with this. Where do you think we should start?” You hummed in thought, gazing up at the roof and narrowing your eyes at the sight of the luminescent lights surrounding the stalactites.

“Not a swimmer, but are you a climber?” you asked him, reaching for his chin with your index finger and thumb before turning his attention to the ceiling, “We need to go up there.” He allowed you to move his face and look at the small opening in the roof wall. He sighed another huff of exasperated breath and shook his head.

“If I had my sword, it would be far easier to scale the walls,” he nodded, looking around the rock you were standing on. The surface was like an island in comparison to the other rocks surrounding the room, no way off the surface without swimming, and no way up without reaching the spherical sides to the rocky room.

You hummed, tucking your blade back behind you and looked down into the water, noticing a faint light coming from the center beneath the rock. Widening your eyes, you stared more intentionally beneath the water, noticing the light began to travel towards you both.

“Helmeppo?” you ask him with a small hint of panic, backing away from the water below, “I don’t think we’re alone in here.” You held onto his arm and dragged him to the center of the rock, looking up at the tiny hole in the roof before looking at your blonde, apprehensive companion.

Darting his eyes down to the depths below, he noticed the same scaly visage beneath the surface, swirling in a circle around the rock you were marooned on. He darted his eyes back to you and drifted his eyes frantically around your features.

“A sea beast?” He asked in a low tone, prompting you to nod in confirmation. He sucked in a hiss through his teeth and looked up to the small hole above you, “We’re going to need to find some type of raft to have us go through the water towards the walls, and pray the beast doesn’t consume us. Then climb to the top of the cave with nothing but our knuckles, aren’t we?”

You look up at the ceiling before looking at the fraying strands of rope you hacked at moments prior. Cursing under your breath, you dropped to your knees and began reweaving the strands that you cut with your dagger.

“Fuck,” you bark at yourself, grimacing as you hastily rotate the strands and coil them back together. He looked down to your position and his eyes widened in horror as he realized what was occurring. Sniffing back your stupidity, the water continued racing in from the false cave mouth and elevating the water level higher.

“Can you fix it before the water reaches us?” He looked to the ropes before looking towards the rapidly rising sea water. You growled, balling your hands into fists and continuing to coil the strands around each other.

“It’ll get done,” you assure him with a rumbly growl in your tone, “But it’s not going to be reinforced enough to hold both of our weight at once.” He cocked his head to the side, a perplexed expression drifting over his face.

“What do you mean?” he asked, kneeling beside you and searching your face for hidden intentions. You huff out a shaky breath, gesturing to your back pocket and to the ends of the rope.

“I’m going to attach the rope to the blade, throw it through the hole and wind against a stalactite,” you nod upwards, refusing to turn your eyes away from your busy hands. “Then we're going to climb through the hole and reach the surface,” you admit, finally looking up at him, “But we can’t both go at the same time. The rope is too frail and fragile.”

His eyes widened, searching your eyes for dishonesty and ill intent. Upon finding none, he growled beneath his breath.

“So, what then?” he huffed out, a small scoff underlying in his tone, “One of us climbs up and then the other begins the climb up after? Is that what you’re suggesting-.”

“-That’s precisely what I’m suggesting,” you cut him off with a soft snarl, “One of us will have to wait and trust the other from their position above.” You continued coiling and twisting the ropes, your hands shaking in a soft rage and lip quivering in reaction to the fear of what’s to come.

After a soft moment of silence, you concluded your twisting and looked up at the blonde-haired marine beside you.

“I have impeccable aim,” you reassure him, fastening the end to your blade after you retracted it from your rear pocket, “Hold the end of the rope and let me aim, please. In silence.” He nodded, eagerly taking your orders and you breathed through your concerns as the water rose over the soft edge.

The fins of a large creature slowly flew above the surface, Helmeppo’s eyes widening as he witnessed the scaly spine of the Sea Beast below the surface. You refused to tear away your eyes from the target ahead, exhaling slowly as you aimed at the wall within the hole.

In a swift thrust, you threw the blade within the air and the rope began to soar through the barely illuminated dome towards the stalactites. Embedding with a swift thud, the end of the rope was hanging limply within Helmeppo’s hands as he continued to search the water for the approaching beast circling below.

Turning to him and noticing his look, you breathed out a melancholy breath of air. Hardening your resolve, you gently reached up and squeezed his shoulder to draw his attention back to you.

“Right then,” you nodded with a hasty sniff of steely determination, “Off you go. Quickly.” He turned to you, looking down in shock as you gestured for him to begin the climb. He began to speak, prompting you to shake your head and halt his thoughts.

“Helmeppo,” you reassured him, squeezing him once more, “This is how it has to be. I am a pirate, a blade thrower and a navigator. You are the first-mate to a marine captain and a swordsman. I would not be able to help you with the rope once I got up there, if anything goes awry,” you confess, softly giving him a pat to spur him on, “You would likely not trust me to aid you anyway, and I feel like you would do the right thing if given the opportunity to do so.”

His shock deepened, the rope feeling hot in his hands the longer he held it between his fingers.

“Go, Helmeppo,” you tapped him once more to break him out of his frantically racing thoughts. He gave you a soft nod, gulping back his nerves and beginning a hasty climb up the ropes. He tested his weight, tugging firmly twice before throwing his entire weight into his ascension.

You had no choice but to watch on as the rope began to bend under the strain of his weight. Looking to the water, the levels began gently rising in soft, taunting ripples as the tide began to come in. A call of your name from the blonde swordsman above the ropes redrew your attention to Helmeppo above you.

“Distract yourself,” he ordered you, straining as his arms and thighs curled around the hanging rope. “Sing your silly songs to me, talk to me about your crew, tell me anything you want.” He growled, gritting his teeth and tugging his body above the rope. You gulped back your fear and inhaled a deep lungful of air.

“I have only ever known a life of piracy,” you confessed, nodding your confirmation and solidifying your words, “Born and raised on the sea, reading the stars and charting my course.”

Helmeppo grunted on the ropes, continuing his slow climb as the water rose around you. You continued thinking about the circumstances that brought you here to this moment. Smiling a soft smile, you look down at your toes and reminisce about your life.

“I learned to read the stars from my mother,” you nod slowly, laughing a soft chuckle as you add, “I look like her, too. The crew says she and I are nothing alike, but I like to think we're similar. She was a noble.” You admit, looking back up to Helmeppo as he nearly reached the top.

He huffs and pants, finally drawing his fingers up to the coarse wall and reaching for a sturdy rock to grip. Reflecting on your words, he thinks over your confessions with interest but remains too preoccupied in his task to ask you any questions.

The water rises closer to your toes, two beady eyes glaring at you beneath the surface and waiting for the water to lap at your ankles before making its move. You pay the eyes no mind, looking up and reassuring Helmeppo as he attempts to grip the walls for a third time to no avail.

“You're doing well,” you offer him with no malice or sarcasm in your tone, “Take your time, I'll be right here.” He scoffed out a soft laugh at your response, wedging the rope between his thighs and using your blade attached to the top to pull himself closer to the wall.

The water caresses your toes with a soft propulsion, your heels not faring better as the water continues to rise to the peak of the small, rocky island within the damp dome. You scrunch your eyes shut, thinking about the outcome should you both fail this task. Both crews would perish on this island in servitude for the locals, your crews would mourn for you, and you would be good for the beast below the surface.

“You can do this, Helmeppo,” you again reassure him, gulping back your shaking fear and propelling confidence in your tone. “You are a swordsman, a first-mate to your captain. You have worked hard to earn those titles, just like you're working hard now. You can do this.”

Hearing your encouragement, his hands finally find purchase on the walls, anchoring himself against the hole in the surface and beginning his climb up. Just as he finally leans up, the dagger in the wall comes loose, the rope falling limp between his thighs and held up by his body alone.

Your eyes widen, your shock and his igniting desperation in your pulse. He grunted through the adrenaline, groaning as he lifted himself above the hole and braced himself against the walls. The rope began to slip, his hands darting out and grasping it before it fell back down below.

“I-I'm-...” He panted, attempting to catch his breath. Shutting his eyes and furrowing his brows, he inhaled deeply and focussed his breath, “...I'm going to have to pull you up.” His voice quivered, his lips shaking as he was overcome from momentary exhaustion at the swift climb.

“We-...” You began, feeling your shoes begin to dampen with the rise in water lapping at your boot heels, “...We’ll wait until you're ready. Take your time.” Helmeppo looked down, noticing the sea beast had begun to circle around the slowly disappearing island and exhaled a shaky breath.

Before he had joined the marines officially, he would've wanted nothing more than to leave you down there to drown. He would've cowered in his own fear and scampered up the hole without second thought.

But as he stared down at you, looking at the smile you had on your lips as you gazed up at him, the enemy, he was compelled to remember all he learnt from Bogard and Garp. He was a marine, a swordsman, and now the first-mate to his superior and best friend. He was no longer his father's son, a sniveling asshole with no marks on his resume to back up his superiority complex.

He was Helmeppo: first mate to Captain Koby, and a superior sword fighter on a journey to becoming the best.

Anchoring a few coils of rope around his waist, he gestures for you to do the same. You follow his directions, tying your hips together and wedging the strands between your legs as a makeshift harness. He extends his legs, parting his thighs and bending his knees to brace himself within the opening beneath the moonlight. Taking the rope in fistfuls, he begins to slowly draw hand after hand of rope and pool the hefty coils over his palm and elbow.

“K-Keep talking to me,” he uttered, wincing as he felt the overexertion of his muscles burning under the weight. “Keep t-talking. Anchor your weight and tell me about yourself.” His breath hitched, his brows furrowing as he grit his teeth.

You choose not to look down, opting only to grant him your smile as he lifts your body higher above the doom lurking below.

“Before I left my home,” you laughed, bracing your arms against the ropes with your forearms, “I was meant to settle down and have an army of children,” you both chuckled at the notion, his hands crawling along the strands and coiling them up higher.

“That something you want for yourself?” He winced through the strain of the ordeal, looking beneath you and noticing the rocky island was completely engulfed in water. The eyes continued to observe the two of you with interest, the creature lingering beneath the depths smiling its toothy grin.

“Absolutely not,” you confess with a laugh, gripping the ropes further and clambering up alongside his cooking advances, “I only want the open sea, the wind in the sails, and the stars to point me to my next destination.” He snickered down, growling as his limbs began to burn.

“T-Truly?” he responded with a taught snicker, “No desire to settle down and retire one day?” He continued tugging the rope and lifting you through the final threshold of the journey.

“Not in my plan, no,” you retorted, finally lifting yourself between his thighs by grasping his hips and hoisting you with your arms extended. Anchoring your heels at the wall behind you, you had no choice but to fall into his chest upon ascension.

His eyes never left your face, floating over your features and gazing up at you. Falling flat on his chest, you wriggled between his legs and drew yourself up through the partition in his thighs. You furrowed your brows as you found purchase on the wall beyond his shoulders, his eyes darting between yours and his lips parted and panting.

“Sorry,” you muffled your apologies, leaning back and gazing into his eyes. Your breath hitched, looking over his features and finally taking a moment to breathe him in. He was handsome, one of the most handsome men you had seen in some time: almost pretty.

His eyes focussed on your lips, momentarily forgetting the doom lingering below and taking you in for all that you were. You were beautiful, even for a pirate.

“We-...” he began, offering his hand out to you and aiding you between his legs, “...we should begin the climb. Can't-...” his eyes darted down to your lips and lingered there a moment longer, “-We can't leave them waiting, and the water is rising.”

You looked at his face, smiling as you hastily pushed yourself up the walls and looked down at the marine first-mate beneath you.

“Better hurry up then, blondie,” you sneered down at him before scampering throughout the walls and hovering up the small opening. He chuckled, taking a moment to catch his breath before following up the hole after you.

The water rises further below you two, your anxieties both propelling you to use each other as anchor points to propel you further up the hole towards the surface.

“Try to keep up, marine,” you teased him in soft snickers, his own laugh joining yours the longer you teased him.

“Speak for yourself, pirate,” he responded in kind, his eyes staring at your body the further up the chasm you clambered. The water began to swell further beneath you, both of you praying in gratitude that you understood the false entry that drew in the tide.

The starlight welcomed you into the night, you hoisted your torso up through the birthpoint and your eyes both met the cloudless sky above. As you exited the hole, you reached down and offered Helmeppo your arm to grip and raise through the tunnel mouth.

With a soft smirk, he clasped his hand over your forearm and used your arm to draw himself up through the small opening. Before falling onto his back and panting, he assessed the surroundings and noticed there truly was no entry to the cave from below. You were right, and he was ever grateful you noticed the trap lingering below.

Lying flat on your backs either side of the hole and catching your breath, you looked to the constellations and began searching through your mind for any direction towards your crewmates.

While you were distracted by charting the stars, Helmeppo began untying the bonds circling his waist and carefully coiling the ropes for later purpose. He wound the fibers into a neat pile beside him, before crawling on his hands and knees towards you and beginning to draw his fingers against your flesh as you muttered stars to yourself.

“The Marina Comet besides Genfry’s Belt,” you whispered, barely processing the fingers dancing over your skin and loosening the knots surrounding your pelvis. “Which means the anchor point for our vessel should be beside the Sialin Dip and Hogir Spear.” Your whispers earned you a chuckle from your blonde-haired companion as he loosened the knots of rope girdling your waist.

After uttering your final vantage point, you began to giggle. The laughter became almost overbearing as the adrenaline teetered off and lay in wake to the lethargy you were both experiencing.

The physical trial between the two of you amongst sea beasts, bondage, and trickery had each breath you took feeling like a gift to the senses. Upon loosening the final knot, Helmeppo flopped to the position beside you and chuckled into the stars. You joined him, your rambunctious laughter serenading him as you did a few hours prior with your shanties of old.

“Any-... Any thoughts on where our crews are right now?” he offered with teetered laughter. You rolled onto your side and placed your hand on his chest and gave him a soft pat in response.

“We have about a forty minute trek through the jungle before we reach the shore,” you giggled, leaning over him and gazing into his eyes, “And then it’ll be about an hour after that to make it to our ships.” You reached up, brushing his blonde hair from his face and gently caressing his cheek.

His breath hitched as his eyes met with yours, wide and shocked to receive such affection from the enemy. Conflicting emotions swirled in his mind the moment his gray orbs met your half-lidded gaze. Before he could speak, you spoke for him in a soft endearing tone.

“You know, you’re really quite pretty,” you speak as if your words contained a soft secret within. His Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed a dry mouthful of saliva and parted his quivering lips up to you. Giggling at his response, you go to draw yourself away from his embrace, only to have your wrist collected in his hand.

As you knit your brows up in confusion, he immediately sat up and drew your body close to himself. His unoccupied hand cradled the back of your head in a firm grip and drew your lips up to collide with his in a soft kiss. A squeak fled your lips in shock as your eyes remained wide and staring into the furrowed brow of your enemy.

His golden hair stuck to his face in stringy, damp strands from the salty drips from the cavern roof. The stars illuminated his pale skin and allowed you to take a glimpse at the rosy blush rising against his cheeks. You finally hum into his lips, circling his waist with your unclasped wrist, and rising to sit in his lap on the grassy patch beside the hole leading down to your prior prison.

You take his kiss as an expression of relief in reclaiming freedom, his joy at being alive and making it through the trial laid out below. Returning his kiss, you allow yourself to give in to your own relief in making it through the trial and rotate your chin to deepen the oscillation. His heart shot to this throat as he released your wrist to circle his arm around your shoulders and hold you close.

Finally and firmly breaking you away from his lips, he gazed up at you with adoration and an unspoken fondness for you. His lips were bruised by the intensity of your kiss which prompted your hands to raise to his cheeks and run your thumb over his bottom lip. Smiling down at Helmeppo, you softly offer him a small tease in your tone.

“C’mon, pretty boy,” you narrow your eyes and scrunch up your nose with your smile, “Let’s go free our crews and get off this forsaken island.” He panted slowly caressing your hair and pressed his forehead against yours briefly.

“You’re going to be the death of me, pirate,” he smiled in his tone, briefly closing his eyes. He broke away contact from your forehead and aided you to your feet. Returning your dagger to you, he hooked the coil of rope over his shoulder and let it lay circling his hip.

“After all we’ve been through? I wouldn’t dream of it,” you smile in response, placing your dagger in your back pocket and readjusting your clothes, “But do try to keep up, lover. You may be strong, but I’m faster.” You began to set an easy and hasty pace trekking through the jungle towards the coastline where your crews were waiting for you.

Aiding each other through the uneven jungle floor, and sneaking in subtle touches and holds to brace each other in support, your affection for the marine swordsman only grew. His eyes only ever left your body and face to briefly glance ahead to brush away a wandering branch from blocking your path. His chivalry was a welcome change to the bruising affection you and your crew displayed to one another.

His thoughts and emotions clouded his judgment, finally giving in to the emotion he was attempting to stifle. He was smitten with the enemy, and he knew you were likely to never see each other again after this adventure. Willing to take any touch you were permitting him to press you with, he committed the feel of your hands on his skin to memory.

He was in love, and you were feeling much the same. You both laughed at the true tragedy of the rising emotions the moment your crews came into view with the local government. Without much thinking, you hastily press a soft kiss to his cheek before sprinting to your captain on the sandy shore without further words.

Eyes shut and hands rose in front of him, he bid you a wordless farewell. Opening his eyes and watching your hair bounce behind you, he felt a piece of his heart leave him and join with your own. Sparing him a look over your shoulder, you shot him a soft wink and giggled in glee at witnessing his eyes still firmly fixed on your retreat.

You were smitten with your marine swordsman, something that the crew would likely tease you about for the whole duration of your journey out to the sea. You looked to the marine ship, your hands splayed on the wooden rail as you met the gaze of Helmeppo aboard his vessel. Gifting him a soft wave and a broad grin, he returned the gesture with a bashful smile and eyes left wanting.

Taking a mental note of the stars, you prayed that one day their soft illuminance would guide you two to meet again.

#one piece #x reader #opla #one piece live action #helmeppo #helmeppo x reader #marine x pirate #ask snail #snail answers #op helmeppo #one piece x reader

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m-musings · 8 months

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Winging It: Buggy The Clown X Winged! Fem! Reader Pt. 1

A/N: bless the one piece fans for getting me into the show and introducing me to this man because he is just so FJSCBKGHLKDGW, like you feel me? anywaysss, first time writing for one piece, let's do this whoooo!

(part 2 here! :] )

Word Count: 2.7k Summary: Buggy asks (Y/n) to help out with an unusual task, chaos ensues. Warnings: a dude being a creep to reader later on and a little bit of ooc on Buggy's behalf, but other than that, just some good ol' fluff!

It all started out as a perfectly normal day.

After another busy day on the Big Top and another successful "show", Buggy had given the majority of his crew the day off to do whatever they wished.

As soon as (Y/n) was able, she unfurled her feathery wings and flew up to the crows nest, needing to get away from the madness down on the deck for a while.

Closing her eyes, (Y/n) took a deep breath of the refreshing ocean air as the breeze blew softly against her face.

Having joined Buggy's crew a few months earlier, she had never expected her life to change as much as it did as fast as it did.

(Y/n) originally came from a life as the sole inhabitant of a tiny island in the middle of the East Blue. One day, the Big Top and its crew happened to be sailing by and stopped to search the island for any supplies they could find.

Fearing the worst, (Y/n) grabbed her baseball bat and and flew out of her hut to stop the pirates from getting any closer.

After fending off a few of the crew members, Buggy swiftly stepped in to try and diffuse the situation, being unusually calm and level headed as he addressed (Y/n).

Realizing her wings could be useful to him in shows and in pillaging, Buggy invited her to join him and his pirates instead of struggling to keep herself alive and entertained on her little islet.

With a hesitant but quick decision, (Y/n) agreed, asking for some time to pack some personal items before Buggy and the rest of the crew led her back to the boat, intent on celebrating a new member of the gang.

Quickly learning the ropes of pirating and climbing up the ranks of the crew, (Y/n) eventually became a high ranking member, just behind Mohji and Buggy himself.

She even managed to become friends with the quirky captain, to the the slight disbelief of the rest of their crewmates. In addition, after getting to know each other a bit more, that friendship slowly turned into a (huge) crush on (Y/n)'s part, but neither Buggy nor anyone else needed to know that part.

And even though the start of her pirating adventure was a little strange, (Y/n) could never say she missed her old life. Being apart of the Big Top Crew gave her the family and friends she was sorely missing on her island.

Reveling in the quiet of the air, (Y/n) smiled to herself as she thought of her new existence as the Big Top's resident trapeze artist, grateful that she now had the world at her fingertips, plus people to fight beside and fight for.

As she reminisced upon the past, her eyebrows perked up when she heard ropes creaking from somewhere down below.

"Hey doll! Figured I'd find you up here!" Grunted a voice from beside her.

She cracked one of her eyes open to see Buggy climbing up the rigging, the tail of his bandana flowing behind him.

"Hey, Cap! Did you need something?"

"Nah, not right now. But I might once we get to the island we're headed to. If the winds are good, we should get there in the next 2 days."

"Oh, yeah, I nearly forgot! What's so special about this island anyway? Isn't the stop just for us to stock up again before we head out to meet Alvida?" (Y/n) questioned, sitting down on the floor of the crows nest as she scootched over to make some room for Buggy.

"That's part of it, yes, but the main reason we're stopping is because a couple of our cannons were destroyed in our last fight with the Marines. There's a few weaponsmiths in a city there that are willing to sell us a few new ones if we can negotiate a good price for both of us."

"So we need them to agree to our bargain so we don't get demolished by another battle on the way to meet Alvida?"

"Exactly! You're one smart cookie.

"Hmm, I try." She shrugged with pleased grin, her wings fluffing out in sync.

"You sure do, (Y/n/n). Anyways, I came to see if you would be willing to come with me, just to make sure nothing fishy happens while I'm not paying attention. Maybe pretend to be my arm candy to trick them, y'know?"

"Me? Can't someone, like, Cabaji do it? He's got way more experience with this stuff than I do."

"He's gonna be in charge of the ship while we're gone. Plus, I mean, you're the only one who would make spending time with dumbasses like these smith guys bearable. You would save me of literally dying of boredom."

"Pfft, I doubt that" Answered (Y/n) as she rolled her eyes at the clown's exaggeration.

Buggy chuckled, smiling softly at the girl as he rested his arm atop her shoulder.

The action causes a very subtle blush to appear on her face, which she tries to keep hidden by scratching at her neck.

"So whadya say, huh? Wanna go on a little adventure with me?"

(Y/n) sighed with a sputter of her lips before turning to answer the blue haired man.

"Sure, Captain, I'll come along. It could be kinda fun."

"Aww, thanks (Y/n), you're the best! Even better than Mohji! But don't tell him that." Whispered Buggy as he jokingly cupped his hand over his mouth.

"You're ridiculous, Captain." she laughed softly, bumping her shoulder with his.

"And I take pride in that. It's all I got goin' for me, after all." Chuckled Buggy, who shrugged and leaned back in reply.

(Y/n) gave him an amused grin in reply before shifting her eyes back towards the big blue ocean that surrounded them.

The two then sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before the voice of another crewmate called out for Buggy from somewhere on the main deck.

"Well, sweets, duty calls. See you later, huh?" Buggy said with a salute before he made his way back down the rigging.

As he disappeared from sight, (Y/n) bashfully put her head in her hands as she tried not to overthink the nickname her captain had given her.

"Oh, damn.... what have I gotten myself into?..." (Y/n) questioned herself as she placed her head against her knees.

After a few more minutes of sitting by herself while she scanned the horizon, Buggy yelled out, calling the crew back to the deck for another show.

With a small shake of her head, (Y/n) stood up, stretched, and flew down to gather with the rest of the troupe.

Just as Buggy had said, the Big Top had reached it's island destination a couple days later. Thankfully, there wasn't many Marines in this town, meaning the crew could go into town to stretch their legs on land and get any supplies they might need for the rest of the trip.

Still on the ship, (Y/n) sat below deck as she tried to find something other than her circus costume to wear, wanting to be able to blend into the crowds better or just in case a high ranking Marine or someone from the World Government showed up and recognized her alongside Buggy.

Rummaging through her chest of clothes, her wings fluttered as she finally found a simple black tank top and a pair of jeans.

After placing the clothing on her bed and gliding over to a nearby vanity to do some basic makeup, she heard a knock at her door while she applied some light rouge to her face.

"Come in, it's open!" She announced as she grabbed another brush from the vanity drawer.

Looking behind her using the mirror, she saw a familiar orange pirate hat pop into view.

"Are you decent?" Buggy said as he entered the room, his disembodied hands floating in front of his face to cover his eyes

"Yes, Captain, you can open your eyes if you want." (Y/n) giggled as she put on some finishing touches of makeup.

Popping off one of his fingers to glance at the girl, he gasped lightly as he finally saw her face.

"Wow, you look fantastic!" Buggy said with an impressed nod.

"Really? It's not much different than my usual casual looks..." Claimed (Y/n) as she timidly placed a hand upon her cheek.

"Either way, angel, you look good. But I suppose that's beside the point. I just came to tell you to be ready to go by sundown. I'll be waiting on the dock, Don't be late." He winked before leaving the room.

With a huff as she tried to compose herself, (Y/n) stood up to get dressed and mentally prepare herself for the night.

Within just a few short hours, the sun had finally set upon the island, and right on cue, (Y/n) left her quarters and strutted over to the deck railing to see Buggy down on the pier waiting for her.

"Ah, (Y/n) there you are! I was worried for a sec, thought you were gonna chicken out on me!"

"No, I'm here. Someone has gotta keep an eye on you!"

"Well, I'm glad that someone is you. Shall we go?" Buggy motioned as (Y/n) climbed down to meet him.

"Yes, we shall, mon capitaine!" (Y/n) quipped as he held her head up high with a light giggle.

"C'mon, let's get going." Chuckled Buggy in response as the two made their way out of the marina.

After a minute or so of idle chatter about their days, (Y/n) spoke up with a question she had been meaning to ask.

"What do we do if they don't agree to give us the cannons for the price you set?"

"Well If that happens, I guess we'll just have to... wing it!" Buggy quipped as he gave the girl a sly grin.

"Oh, ha ha, very funny!" (Y/n) fake laughed as she playfully smacked Buggy's back with one of her wings.

"Thank you! I am funny!" Buggy declared as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, careful to avoid the feathers on her back.

(Y/n) bit her bottom lip in reply as she moved her gaze to the cobblestone ground beneath them.

"So where exactly is this weapons store at?"

"Not far, we come to this place every so often so I know the quickest way to get there."

(Y/n) nodded in acknowledgement as Buggy began to tell her some fun stories about his past adventures here.

About 15 minutes later, Buggy made an excited noise as he realized where they were.

"Ok, (Y/n/n), the weaponsmiths store is just up ahead, I'll lead you there." He announced, taking her hand until they found the place they needed to be.

As the door swung open, a little bell rang overhead, signaling to the two workers that someone had entered the shop.

"Gentlemen! How's it going, am I late to the party?!"

"Ah, you must be the guy that contacted us the other day! Nah, you're right on time! Did you bring cash?" Asked one of the men who (Y/n) assumed was the shop owner.

Buggy rolled his eyes as he pulled out a large stack of berry from his pocket and placed it onto a nearby counter, in front of the younger man with black hair.

"Perfect! If you follow me, I can show you the canons we currently have on stock." the older of the two men said, leading Buggy past a few rows of shelves and cabinets to another part of the store.

Just before they rounded the corner, Buggy and (Y/n) gave each other a reassuring nod.

After a brief moment of looking around at the various weapons and items scattered across the room, (Y/n)'s attention was grabbed by the sound of someone behind her clearing her throat.

She slowly whirled back around to see the younger of the two shopkeepers looking her up and down.

"Hey gorgeous, how ya doin' on this fine evening?" The man who stayed at the counter smirked, looking at (Y/n) with something dangerous flashing in his eyes

"Fine, thanks..." (Y/n) giving him a polite smile

"So, you uh, doing anything tonight?"

"Just getting those cannons, then we're headed back out."

"Aw come on, you couldn't stay for... say, one drink with me at the bar in town?"

"Um, thanks but no thanks, I've got stuff to do back on our ship." Responded the girl as she took a few steps backwards

"Are you sure? I could give you a real fun time, cutie!" Chuckled the man as he walked around the counter to stand in front of (Y/n) with his arms crossed.

"Yeah, positive. Sorry." (Y/n) finalized as she started to walk away, but was near-instantly stopped.

"Oh, come on, pretty birdy, leave that idiotic clown guy and spend the night with a real man huh?!" The man cackled as he grabbed onto (Y/n)'s wrist and pulled her into his chest.

"Ow! Let me go!" Hissed (Y/n) as she began to tug against the mans grasp, flapping her wings slightly to give her a bit more leverage.

The man laughed crudely before grabbing her other arm and trapping her against a shelf.

"Hey, maybe that stupid pirate will let me keep you! Who knows, maybe we can see all of the things those pretty little wings of yours can do!"

With a disgusted scoff, (Y/n) went to grab a small dagger she had hidden in her left pocket, but before she could even find it, a white-gloved hand shot across the store to grip the black haired man's collar.

"What exactly do you think you're doing?!" Buggy inquired, his voice menacingly low as he appeared back from the other side of the store.

"Uh, well, you see I- it's um-"

"Answer me!"

"C'mon, It was a joke! I didn't mean anything by it!" The man tried to convince the Captain as he let out a nervous laugh.

"Didn't seem very funny to me..." Buggy stated as he glared daggers at the shopkeeper.

"You're right, it wasn't, I- I apologize-" he stammered with a fearful whimper before Buggy pushed him back against the counter with a growl.

"If you ever try to touch anyone on my crew again, I'll personally make sure you lose both of your hands, got it?!"

"Okay, alright, I'm sorry! It won't happen again, sir!" The man agreed with a frightened look at the pirate.

Buggy scoffs irately, throwing the man onto the floor before picking the berry back up and stuffing it back into his pocket.

"C'mon, (Y/n), we're getting the hell outta here." Buggy spat as he gingerly grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the shop.

Confusedly sputtering as they clambered back down the road, (Y/n) stared at Buggy with wide eyes.

"Slow down a little, please!" (Y/n) said, stumbling as she tried to keep pace with Buggy.

With an apologetic and upset glance, Buggy released her hand before she hurried over to walk side by side with him.

"Buggy, what the hell was that about?!"

"Don't worry about it, we just needed to leave that shithole before I killed someone."

"That hasn't stopped you before!"

"I'll just say I'm feeling generous tonight then." Snarled Buggy, growing more and more enraged as the pair walked.

"We need to go back, we need those canons or we're screwed!"

"We can get the canons somewhere else, we need to go."

"But what was that all about?! Sure, the guy was a douche, but I could have easily just pushed him off with my wings or cut him with my dagger. Why are you being so weird about this?!"

"Because no one fucks with my girl!" Buggy shouted, spinning around to come face to face with (Y/n).

"W-wait, wait... Your girl?..." (Y/n) asked quietly, freezing as the meaning of his words sunk in.

Buggy halted his rant as he turned to fully face her, finally realizing what he had said. Running a palm through his blue locks, he dejectedly shook his head as he struggled to find the right words to say.

"Just forget about it, okay?! We have to get back to the ship..." Buggy muttered as he continued to stomp away.

As the blue haired pirate angrily marched down the street, (Y/n) stood frozen on the edge of the town, not knowing how to feel about what her beloved captain had just revealed to her.

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown #one piece #one piece live action #one piece imagine #fanfic

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the-au-collector · 4 months

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Linked Universe College Radio AU

Since I recently got some motivation to work on this one, I figured I would brain dump a little about my LU College Radio AU. It's basically a college/university AU but each of the main LU Links are somehow associated with their college radio station at Kakariko University.

Why radio? I was listening to The Oh Hellos when the idea struck me so each of the works are hopefully going to have titles taken from Oh Hellos songs. This will, hopefully, just mostly focus on the Links + the radio station but who knows? I added way too many characters to this braindump but oh well

The Links

Time

Staff coordinator for the radio station

Broadcasting professor

Usually gets stuck teaching the freshman and sophomores

Married to the zoology professor, Malon

Taking care of Twilight's dog, Wolfie, until Twilight finds a dog-friendly place. Acts like he hates it, but he actually loves it

Infamous for being a hardass

"Call me Time. Don't call me Link, that's my nephew. Don't call me Professor Lon, that's my wife"

Legend

Has done just about anything and everything

Knows everyone, but just because he's been here so long and has done so much

Has officialy been an agriculture major, a meteorology major, a humanities major, a fine art major, a fashion design major, and an engineering major in the past

Has finally settled with being a broadcasting major after doing the Jaded Boys radio show with Wild

Part of the Jaded Boys with Wild, then is part of Triple Threat with Wild and Hyrule

Lives off-campus with his current partner, Ravio

Also lives with Warriors

Used to date a girl named Marin from Mabe City. No he doesn't talk about it

Does not like driving. Or storms.

Has a cane

Even in an AU he can't escape the Koholint Trauma

Wild

Campus cryptid

Everyone knows him. No one knows what he's studying

(It's engineering. He, Purah, and Fauna are a terror to the school together)

Addicted to energy drinks

Never studies, always passes exams

Always socially overbooked

Has amnesia and bad scarring from a house fire

Was adopted by Teba and Saki after said house fire

Has a twin brother named Age. Most people think Age is older but Wild's actually older

Was the one who coerced Legend and Hyrule into radio

Lives in a house off-campus with Twilight, Age, Sidon, Yunobo, Mipha, and Revali.

Has committed arson before

Has gotten arrested for committing arson before

Twilight

Zoology major

Is the reason Wild's still alive

Used to be roommates with Wild in the dorms when they were freshmen

Took a gap year between high school and college

Has a dog named Wolfie

Regular guest on Triple Threat

Runs the Helpful Paws club, which is a club all about service dogs. Ilia helps run said club

Works on Legend's uncle's orchard during the weekends

Four

Computer science major

Technology director at the radio station (yes this position only exists because of Wild)

Friendly rivalry with Wild because Wild breaks everything

Shadow is his step-brother

Warriors

Fashion design major

Joined Legend and Ravio's lease at the last minute because of stuff that happened between him and his other roommates

Has a restraining order against Cia and doesn't talk to Lana

Is currently dating Artemis, a fashion merchandising major

Met Legend when Legend was doing fashion design. No one knows how they're friends. They fight all the time.

Legend forced him to make his own radio show when Wild roped Legend into doing the Jaded Boys. So now Warriors has a show called Wednesday With Warriors

Sky

Senior aviation major

Runs The Loftwings with his fiancé, Sun, and his best friend, Groose.

Has a bad habit of sleeping through his alarm

Currently taking care of his older brother's mouthy parrot, Crimson.

Also lives with Groose and Sun

Wind

Freshman metrology major

Super friendly

Cares more about the college experience than learning

Hyrule's roommate

After Hyrule starts doing Triple Threat, Wind gets the idea to do the Wind Waker podcast with Tetra where they sing sea shanties and tell pirate stories

Spirit is his introverted cousin and he's made it his goal to get Spirit to get out more

He also does the same with Hyrule

Hyrule

Freshman undecided major

Joins Triple Threat under Wild's insistence

Very shy

Grew up in a really small town

Wind's roommate

Is regularly forced out of the dorm by Wind but prefers to just wander around town and campus

Childhood friends with Dawn

Age

Wid's twin brother who is very different from Wild

Business major, accounting minor

Dating Mipha, a senior nursing student

Rarely goes to parties, but plays damage control when Wild hosts them at their house

Does remember his and Wild's past. Wild's amnesia caused a rift to form between them for a while, but they're working on getting past that now

Was also adopted by Teba and Saki

Shadow

Four's step-brother

Vaati's his dad, but he's cut Vaati out of his life now

Theater major with a minor in set design

Got his nickname from no one being able to see him onstage when moving props around

Everyone is convinced he has some sort of magical powers

A bit shy, and a bad boy

Dating Dot

Spirit

Freshman engineering major

His roommate is Niko

Wind's introverted cousin who's often dragged out of his dorm by Wind

Would much rather spend time with construction documents than people

First

Sky's older brother who's not around a lot since he's in the military (he's a doctor)

Married to a woman named Hylia

Has a parrot named Crimson that he's trusting Sky to take care of

The Zeldas

Lullaby

Works at Kakriko Univeristy as a broadcasting professor

An old flame of Time's, but they've both moved on by now

Usually teaches upper division classes

Fable

Legend's older sister who lives in Castle City

Already graduated with a business degree

Comes around for the holidays and drops in occasionally to see how Legend's doing

Flora

Constantly overbooked with school

Double-majoring in anthropology and history

Part of hundreds of different clubs and student organizations

Hard to get a moment alone with her at all

Has recently gotten close to Rauru and Sonia, who are both anthropology students

Fauna's twin sister. Flora's younger, though

Dusk

Political science major

Knows Twilight through Midna but since Twi and Midna broke up, Dusk doesn't really talk to Twilight anymore

Roommates with Midna and Artemis

Dot

Political science major and Four's childhood friend

Hopes to get into law school one day

Dating Shadow (her dad isn't too happy about this)

Lives with Aurora and Dawn and used to be roommates with Aurora when they were in the dorms

Artemis

Fashion merchandising major

Warriors' girlfriend

Used to also be his housemate, but after things happened with Cia and Lana she moved in with Midna and Dusk

Still occasionally talks to Lana

Sun

Senior aviation major and Sky's fiancé

Runs The Loftwings with Sky and Groose

Also lives with Sky and Groose

Appears to be very level-headed on the outside, but is secretly kind of crazy

Tetra

Ecology major with a minor in biology

Eventually becomes close friends with Wind

Roommates with Phantom and they get along like fire and gasoline

(seriously do not let either of those girls near a lighter... or boxing gloves)

Part of the Wind Waker podcast with Wind

Aurora

Senior political science major

She, Dot, and Dawn live together

Dawn is her younger sister

Is going to move to Castle City after graduation

Refuses to go home after having a horrible falling out with her brother

Dawn

Freshman early childhood education major

Wants to teach kindergarten and preeschool one day

Lives with her older sister, Aurora, and Aurora's roommate, Dot

Doesn't plan on returning to her hometown either

Childhood friends with Hyrule

Fauna

Flora's twin sister who's majoring in engineering and minoring in biology

Best friends with Purah and Impa

Closer to Age than Wild, but she's in a lot of classes with Wild

It is a horrible idea to leave her, Purah, and Wild alone in a room together

Has a cat named Terrako, who hates everyone except for her

Her father puts a lot of pressure on both her and Flora, but Fauna feels it the most since she's the oldest

Phantom

Freshman communications major

Tetra's roommate

She looks like any old upperclass girl but she is always ready to throw hands

Somehow becomes friends with Spirit

Hylia

First's wife who's a doctor at a local hospital

Keeps an eye out for Sky even though she knows he doesn't really need it

Will bring Sky and his friends food and snacks

Absolutely willing to drive Sky and his friends home when none of them can drive

Very motherly and open

Some Others:

Malon

Time's wife who's a zoology professor

Twilight has started a protection squad for her (all the Links are part of it. Even Time)

Everyone loves her

Ravio:

Legend's partner

Business major

Has a bird named Sheerow who poops everywhere

Despite this he is the cleanest one in the apartment

Constantly roping Legend into new business ideas

Used to run a shop out of his and Legend's dorm room when they lived in the dorms together. Legend's pretty sure it was against the rules. Ravio doesn't care

Acts greedy, but is actually living off his loans

Never goes home. He goes over Legend's Uncle's house for holidays now.

His younger sister, Hilda, often sleeps over and Legend and Ravio's

Has a horrible relationship with his father, Yuga

Sidon, Mipha, Revali, Yunobo:

Wild's housemates alongside Twilight and Age

Revali claims he's the only reason the house hasn't burned down

Revali is also one of Teba and Saki's adopted children, and had a bit of a superiority complex over being adopted first (he was there first) when they were kids. He's gotten better, but he's still a bit of a jerk to Wild. He and Age have bonded over Wild constantly giving them heart attacks

Sidon is a sophomore political science major who is super friendly, but has a hard time stopping conversations. Head over heels for his girlfriend, Yona. Is also super tall and often mistaken for being the older sibling

Mipha is a senior nursing student. Sidon's older sister, Age's girlfriend. If there's a medical emergency, chances are the Links are calling Mipha first even though they really should go to the hospital instead

Revali is a senior aviation major and hopes to join the air force after college to "get away from the filth" (meaning Age and Wild. He would never call Tulin filth)

Yunobo is a sophomore geoscience major. Works at his grandpa's coffee shop, Goron City Coffee

Urbosa, Daruk, Riju:

Urbosa is Riju's aunt and and mother figure to Flora and Fauna. She lives in Castle City, but often comes to Kakariko to give guest lectures. She's a businesswoman

Daruk is Yunobo's grandpa who owns Goron City Coffee. He often lets the radio host events at his coffee shop, and acts like a father figure for Wild's friend group

Riju is a freshman business major who wants to be like her aunt, Urbosa. Flora and Fauna see her as their younger sister.

Teba, Saki, Tulin:

Revali was adopted first, then Age and Wild

Teba is retired from being in the military

Saki teaches private singing lessons

Tulin is the Baby of the family and is in middle school. He is an absolute terror. Never let Wild babysit him, they will both get into trouble. Tulin is everyone's favorite and Tulin will use that to his advantage

Ilia:

Twilight's friend who helps run the Helpful Paws club

She has a huge crush on Twilight but doesn't want to overstep, especially after the bad break up with Midna

Rusl, Uli, Colin:

Twilight's family in Ordon who adopted him when he was about 8

Colin's just starting high school and is dealing with a lot of bullying, so he calls Twilight often for help

Rusl is a detective, but he's on paternity leave right now since Uli just had their daughter

Grandpa Smith:

Four and Shadow's grandpa

Took them both in after their mother died and Vaati went to prison

Four was usually a good kid, but Shadow was a little terror

Lives in Kakariko City so he gets to see his boys often

Cia and Lana:

Twins who both had huge crushes on Warriors

Cia got jealous when Wars started dating Lana

Cia is a psychology major, but now is largely known as the campus creep

Lana was a fashion design major, but changed schools after the drama with Warriors happened

Groose:

Sky and Sun's roommate and fellow host of The Loftwings

Proudly boasts that he's their best man

Also a senior aviation major

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tfemteach · 2 months

Text

hey pirate show friends! in honor of my boat graduation and because I'm procrastinating my work I thought I'd make a post about some super basic sail mechanics/terminology for all your writing-about-ships needs. this just covers the very broad strokes that you'd need to convincingly talk about what's happening on a ship while there's other stuff going on, or to insert some ship-based drama. I'm not an expert and I'm only practically familiar with one tallship that's much later in period than the Revenge. but here are some things I did not know before sail training that I think could be helpful or provide some fun jumping off points for writing! this is super long but I am super procrastinating. hopefully it's helpful to someone. if not, I at least wasted a fun hour thinking about things that aren't my day job.

1. what are the basic types of sails?

for a square-rigged ship like the Revenge, you will have both "square sails" and "fore-and-aft sails." square sails are set perpendicular to the masts and, obviously, are roughly square. they are "bent onto" (meaning connected to) the "yards," which are the horizontal pieces of wood that cross the mast. fore-and-aft sails are set going, well, fore and aft, meaning they follow the line of the ship. these can include staysails (triangular sails bent onto the "stays," or wires that support the masts, and therefore run down the middle of the ship), jibs (also triangular and bent onto stays or wires, but going out along the jibboom and bowsprit, which are the spars that extend forward of the ship's bow), spankers (a large trapezoidal-ish fore-and-aft sail bent onto booms (basically like a fore-and-aft yard) off the mizzen mast, which is towards the stern of the boat, and acts as a wind rudder), and more. some older ships also had spritsails, which were small square sails bent onto yards that hang off the bowsprit. they look very silly in my opinion but to each their own. these aren't all the kinds of sails but they'll cover your basics.

ships can also have any number of sails. full size square-rigged ships can have as few as two or as many as five square sails on each mast. the lowest and largest sail can be called either the mainsail or the course, and are further specified by saying which mast it's on (i.e., the fore course, main course, or mizzen course). going upwards and assuming a five-sail mast, you've next got the lower topsail, upper topsail, topgallant (pronounced t'gallant), and royal. the staysails are named for the mast they connect to. so the most forward might be the "fore topmast staysail," indicating a sail that is connected to the upper part of the foremast.

2. how are sails controlled?

the vast majority of sail control actually comes from the deck and does not require having people aloft, or in the rigging (I'll address the reasons to have people aloft in the next section).

each sail has a number of "lines" (ropes) connected to it at different points that control whether the sail is "set" (fully extended) or "doused" (pulled up towards the yard). more lines are connected to the yards and control how the sail is oriented. the yards can be pulled back and forth, some of them can be pulled up and down, and their angle relative to the horizon can also be adjusted. the square sails on a mast all work together as they are stacked on top of each other and often have interconnected rigging. the lines all come down to the deck and are "belayed" (a figure-eight shaped way of wrapping the rope) around a "pin." the pins may be on a rail that wraps around the ship (the "pinrail"), on a rail that makes a square shape around a mast (a "fiferail"), or on a metal band wrapped around a mast (a "spider rail.") (there are other rails also, especially on the headdeck, which is the most forward, and the quarterdeck, which is the most aft. don't worry about it.)

some things you might do with sails from deck:

set sails (pulling the foot of the sail all the way to the next lowest yard so that it is fully extended and can fill with wind)

douse sails (pulling the foot of the sail up to its yard so that it is no longer catching as much wind. you can leave the sail doused if you might need to set it again, or you can send people aloft to furl it if you do not need it or are in conditions where it is dangerous to have a loose sail)

conduct manuevers, i.e. turn the ship

the three basic manuevers are tacking, wearing, and boxhauling, but all of them are just ways to turn the ship and change course. you can look up the particulars of these manuevers if you're interested, but I think the most important part from a writing perspective is knowing the initial commands. there are a whole series of commands for each of these manuevers but the opening ones you might most need are:

for a tack, the captain or conn (person in charge of issuing manuevering orders), first calls "ready about!" one of the other orders that might be dramatic to have in a writing situation is "helms a'lee," which occurs after ready about and prompts the person at the helm to turn it.

for a wear (the most common and least work-intensive way to turn most large tallships, though it loses you more ground), the order is "prepare to wear ship!"

for a boxhaul (essentially a three-point turn for when you do not have a lot of space to manuever), the order is "stand by to boxhaul!"

you can also stop the ship by "heaving to" (past tense: "hove to"), where you rotate the yards in opposition to each other so that the sails form a right angle with each other, which loses you all of your wind power.

these might change by period or tradition, but are the most common I'm aware of.

the commands for setting and dousing sails are pretty straightforward- you're just going to say "on the [fore/main/mizzen], set/douse your [sail]!" someone lower in the chain of command might also say "hands to the [sail] gear." whatever needs to get done is then accomplished by hauling on, easing (letting go slowly and under control) or casting off the relevant lines.

4. so what do people do aloft?

going up into the rigging is referred to as "laying aloft." you do this by climbing the "shrouds," which are those things you always see people in Boat Media climbing on-- they look like big nets or ladders that extend from the rails of the ship up to the masts. the shrouds may go to "cranelines" (small footropes that allow you to access the middle of a mast between yards, which is often where staysails are stowed), to platforms/crow's nests, or to "footropes," which are strung under each yard. there is also the "headrig," which is a system of footropes and stays that form what looks like a net under and around the jibboom and bowsprit and allow those areas to be accessed. all of these need to be tarred and otherwise repaired, and if a line parts (breaks) a new one needs to be rigged. masts may also need to be tarred or painted and other hardware might need to be repaired, checked, or replaced, such as "blocks" (pulleys that help lines move), shackles, and hooks. you might also need to bend on sails, or even replace entire masts if you're doing heavy repairs in port. people doing these jobs might carry tools or materials tied off in canvas buckets, or ride on a "bosun's chair," which is a wooden swing that can be tied to a gantline and used to lift a person up into the rigging or down over the side of the ship (like stede during the lighthouse fuckery or lucius when he's supposed to clean barnacles).

for non-maintenance related activities, the only things that really need to be done aloft are loosing and furling the sails.

square sails are kept, when idle, rolled and tied to their yards (furled). fore and aft sails are also furled, which depending on the sail may also mean tying it to a mast, or it may mean bundling it down against a stay or spar.

before a ship gets underway, the sails therefore need to be loosed (untied). a captain might not order all sails to be loosed at once when first starting out. if there's heavy winds, you might only need a few sails to get the speed you're going for. in light winds, you might need all of them. the order of loosing on a ship with five square sails per mast is typically: lower topsail, upper topsail, t'gallant, royal, course. but this is ultimately up to the captain's discretion. the courses have a lot of power and you might not need or want that much power when the winds are high.

to loose a sail, sailors are ordered to lay aloft, where they range out along the yard of the sail they're loosing. they stand on the footropes and hold onto a metal rail called the "jackstay." on each side of the yard, there are 3-5 "gaskets" holding the sail tied to the yard. these are loosed as sailors lay out along the yard (the knot is called a butterfly and can be pulled out in one easy motion). then each person stops at their gasket and "gasket coils" it, which coils the gasket up nicely so that it sits right at the yard and doesn't flap around the sail. gasket coils can also be undone easily by flipping one part of the coil over and then just letting the rest fall. the sail can then be set from deck.

you might need to "sea stow" a sail if you have to furl them very hastily, for example if a storm is coming. in this case you'd lay aloft, loose a couple of gasket coils, and spiral them widely inboard (towards the mast) and tie them off. the goal is not to look pretty, just to be fast. the sail will be doused from deck, and the hardest part of this is gathering up the sail the rest of the way so that it can be tied down. you lean your hips against the yard, reach over, and gather up chunks of the sail, tucking them under your belly until you have all of it, and then tie your gaskets. it's hard to do because you are not working together as closely or as carefully in a sea stow situation, and also potentially because the conditions are garbage.

sails ideally are stored in a "harbor furl," particularly, as the name implies, in harbor, where you are not likely to quickly need them loose again, and you have the time to put them away nicely. also, ship people judge each other if these don't look nice. this is a much more synchronized manuever. the sail is doused from deck, then sailors lay aloft in the same way as they did for loosing. here, the people with the hardest jobs are the ones up first, who go out to the farthest points of the yard (the "yardarm"). everyone begins to gather up the sail in the same manner as a sea stow, leaning over the yard and tucking folds of the sail under your stomach. the people at the yardarm are also dealing with the blocks and gear at the lower outside corners ("clews") of the sails. their job is more technically complicated and so they control the rhythm of everyone's gathering. once the sail has been folded and furled nicely with the "sun skin" facing out (protecting the rest of the sail from the elements), the person on the weather (side the wind is coming from) yardarm calls, in rhythm, "roll-ing home," or something similar, which prompts everyone to roll the sail up on top of the yard in unison. then each person wraps their gasket around the sail and yard, ties it off, and heads back down. again, that command might vary by period and tradition.

5. what are some things I could throw in my story for drama?

here are just a few:

a line could part! this is actually not uncommon on buntlines, which are one of the lines that help set and douse sails. when one of these parts and there's any amount of wind, the whole ship is going to know about it very fast because the sail, out of control, will start to "flog." this means it flops around in the wind and makes a very ominous sound (like a huge towel being snapped). to fix it, crew needs to lay aloft immediately and sea stow the sail so the bosun or other skilled crewmember can rig a new buntline.

a note about lines parting: manila lines do not have the "snapback" effect that modern synthetic lines do. this means they part more easily, but also more safely. they also get VERY swollen and spongy when it's wet, because they absorb water, and may even start to unlay (where the strands start to untwist themselves). so they can be also very annoying to handle when wet.

you might have to execute a manuever while people are still aloft! this is not uncommon, particularly for people aloft performing routine maintenance, but not ideal in bad conditions, particularly if people are out on the yards. because manuevers involve the yards being pulled back and forth and therefore rotating on the mast, it can be pretty harrowing to ride one through a manuever (or fun, depending on what kind of person you are). there are also pinch points between the yards and the mast that anyone on the mast or shrouds needs to steer clear of so they don't get crushed by a moving yard. "avast!" is a real command used when there needs to be an immediate all-stop due to a safety issue.

you might have to sea stow in really heavy conditions! if you've seen the episode of black sails where flint sails the Walrus directly into a storm, you know how difficult this is. when a sail is full of wind, it's very hard to pull it up by hand, even when doused. dousing only pulls the sail about 3/4s of the way up to the yard, and a doused sail can still catch wind. in truly heavy winds it can be almost impossible to stow.

in high seas, the ship could roll so badly that people on the yardarms get dunked in the ocean! this has also happened on black sails, I think in that same episode. this has never happened to me but I think if it ever did I would just rather fall off in the ocean than get swung back up again, thanks (<-guy who is afraid of heights). this is not a death sentence though, sailors can and have held on enough that they get swung back up and can safely get down. if conditions are bad enough that this happens and you do lose grip and end up in the ocean, it's probably going to be pretty difficult to impossible to get rescued, at least in the 1700s.

someone inexperienced might belay a line that needs to be cast off in order for a manuever to work, or vice versa. this could be an easy fix or it could cause a very dangerous situation. if you lose control of one of the halyards that lifts the yards, for example, that's potentially tons of uncontrolled load that could fall and break any number of things on its way. or if a line is made fast when it needs to be loosed, you could have yards raised crookedly and/or lines breaking as the strain becomes too much.

rope burn! the lines on a ship are often controlling a lot of load and power. if you allow the rope to slip through your hands instead of moving hand-over-hand, or if you just lose control of it, you can get rope burn that can be pretty severe. it's a wound that almost looks like a burn from fire would, especially while healing.

#our flag means death

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standfucker · 9 months

Text

Engravings

inspired by the following comment on my last SH fic:

Couldn't stop thinking about it, which eventually led to this.

Characters: Sanji

Reader: GN, they/them

Word Count: 6.2k

CW: Hurt/Comfort, SH, SH scars, auditory hallucinations, PTSD, mental institution-related trauma. No shipping, ace-friendly

Summary: It’s Sanji. You’re immediately, wholeheartedly certain. It’s Sanji, and he knows.

AO3 Link

"I’m listening to everything / please, tell me everything"

Nothing’s happened.

The sea is calm, the sun is shining, and the breeze is strong. All in all, a great day for sailing.

Nothing’s happened…

No recent squabbles among the crew, no surprises from sea beasts, no battles with pirates or Marines.

There’s no reason to feel the way you do. No trigger or logic to it. But you feel it anyway.

It’s like there’s an invisible filter over everything. Nothing looks different. Things sound different, though. The sounds of the waves and wind, the snapping of sailcloth and rope, the din of the crew’s voices. All of it wavers, like someone has their hand on a universal volume dial, yanking it back and forth at random. Sometimes the sounds are piercingly loud, like they’re right next to your ears, making you resist the urge to cover them. Sometimes the sounds blend into the background of everything else in a low, dull hum–so distorted that you have to focus to parse what’s being said to you.

The sound issue is your second tip-off that you’re having that kind of day. The first is the sense that the Sunny feels too small. And, crushingly, overwhelmingly, it feels like your fault. Irrational, but you can’t shake it. Really, it’s stupid: On the outside, it just looks like you’re hanging out next to your crewmates, making idle conversation. Inwardly, there’s such a deep feeling of guilt for just being there that you’re ready to throw yourself overboard.

You try to cope. You really do. You make an effort, mentally talking yourself through it.

I am allowed to take up space. I am allowed to exist.

You want to cry. You want to get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness. It doesn’t make sense, and there’s no cause you can identify. You feel like you’re going to throw up.

No one notices. How could they? Your mask is calm smiles and practiced eye contact, formed with easy jokes and interest in what the others say. Your mask is years in the making, thick with each layer you’ve added to seal in the cracks. It’s heavy and ugly, but it keeps you safe.

I am allowed to exist.

There’s no danger. You can’t explain why your fight-or-flight response is going off. There’s something wrong with you, and no one can see it because the problem is deep in the wiring. You can’t even see it. But you can feel it, and it feels so god-awful you don’t know how to endure it.

You feel yourself shaking from head to toe, so much so that it’s hard to keep your balance. But when you look down, your body is completely still. The noise around you blends together and buzzes like static, harsh on your ears. Then it gets louder.

I am allowed to exist.

You want to crawl in a hole and hide.

I am…

You excuse yourself–casually, collectedly–and head for the ship’s interior. You know what you’re going to do before you even start moving, like the decision’s already been made for you. A certainty that settles in your system, something to hold onto. The background noise grows even louder.

You stumble into the bathroom. As soon as you shut the door, all sound cuts out.

You can’t hear anything. Not even the sea, nor the creaking wood of the ship. The room shifts, draws away from you until you have tunnel vision. Your vision warps, then focuses on the cabinet above the sink until you can see nothing else. Just like before.

It’s been a few weeks since the last time.

The background noise slowly picks up, but it’s distant, like you’re hearing it coming from a different ship. You reach for the cabinet.

What are you doing?

You open the cabinet. It’s organized so each crewmate’s stuff is clustered together, with the common items at the bottom. Your gaze passes over your deodorant, your nail clippers, your toothbrush, and settles on your straight razor.

Aren’t you too old for this?

You take your razor. From the common items, you take a bottle of alcohol. You fold up some tissue paper.

What would the crew think?

It’s hard to ignore the thoughts. But like any bully, they usually go away if you don’t give them energy. Usually.

The razor’s weight in your hand is comforting. It shouldn’t be, but it is. You unfold it, wipe down the blade with some alcohol. Then you lift up your sleeve and slide it over your shoulder.

This stretch of sea has been balmy. With the pleasant weather, you’ve worn a t-shirt, the short sleeves going just less than halfway down your arm. Underneath them, high up on your shoulder, are the scars. Faint and healed, a few shades lighter than your skin tone. Noticeable in the light, but that’s why you don’t participate in the group baths.

The background noise gets louder again. You think you hear shouting, faintly, but that’s normal for the crew. It barely registers over your heartbeat.

Your heart is beating harder than before, dull thumps in your chest that seem to echo. Anticipating, ready.

Everything is going to be okay.

Finally. Finally. A hurt you can make sense of. Small, controlled. Yours.

There’s supposed to be a rush, you’ve heard. You don’t feel one. But there is a difference. The tunnel vision stops, the filter lifts. The world snaps back into place, the sound goes back to normal.

That’s when you really notice the shouting, no longer muffled by brain static. Something’s off. You focus. It doesn’t sound argumentative, like Zoro and Sanji. Nor is it playful, like Luffy or Franky’s might be. It’s startled and panicky, immediately grabbing your attention and making your adrenaline surge.

A second later, you hear an echoing BOOM, followed by an ear-splitting crunching of wood. It’s a sound you recognize, one you’ve heard before–a cannonball tearing into the ship.

You’re under attack.

For just a moment, you stare at your equipment, caught off guard. Then you pull yourself together–take your feelings and compartmentalize them for later dealing with–and tear out of the bathroom, dropping the tissue in the process. Your pistols are in their case, in the sleeping quarters. You need to get to them before you can join the fight…

The enemy pirates are strong–for a New World crew. Unfortunately for them, they’re completely outclassed by Luffy alone, much less the combined strength of the Straw Hats. Still, the numbers favor the enemy, and the battle is tiring enough to be distracting. Enough so that you forgot about what you were doing before it started. It’s only an hour into helping Franky patch up the ship, when you feel your shirt sleeve catch on your scabs, that you remember.

Then you realize you left your equipment out in the bathroom.

The razor. The alcohol. The bloody tissue paper.

Panic floods your system. You drop your tools and jump up as if electrocuted, all but flying to the bathroom. Has anyone used it since the fight?

Please no, please please please be wrong.

You kick the door open. It bangs harshly against the wall.

The equipment is gone. Your stomach sinks.

No no no no no.

You open the cabinet. Everything’s been returned to its place. Your straight razor has been folded and put away, as has the alcohol. The used tissue paper is gone. Not in the trash, either. Whoever it was must have discarded it in the toilet.

No no no no no!

Who?

Who was it? You run through the possibilities in your head. Zoro? No, he wouldn’t clean up after someone else’s mess. Neither would Nami. At least, not for free. And what about the rest of the crew?

Whoever it was, would they even know what they saw? Surely they’d just think you cut yourself shaving. That was the only explanation, right? Even if the patterns on the tissue paper were distinct, the stains shaped into blurry, beaded lines–unless they had done it before, there’s no way they’d know. Right?

This time, when you shiver, it’s for real, not just a figment of your imagination. What would happen if you were found out? At best you’d be kicked out of the crew. At worst…

I’ll get locked up again.

You feel ill. Dizzy and nauseated with the prospect. You try not to spiral, try to get a grip before panic can take hold. The best you can do is to close the door behind you, sit on the floor, and take deep breaths.

You’re not sure how long you’re there–minutes, hours–but you don’t get up until someone knocks on the door.

“You almost done?” Usopp calls from the other side.

Swallowing hard, you find your voice. “Yeah. Just a sec.”

Usopp doesn’t so much as give you a second glance when you pass him. It’s not him.

You’re hypervigilant the rest of the day, scrutinizing every action, every word from your crewmates. Nothing seems different, but that only makes you more paranoid.

Nami offers you a tangerine. The simple action sets off a cascade of racing thoughts: Is she trying to make you feel better? Because she knows? Did she tell anyone? Did she tell Chopper? Luffy?

Every interaction is like that–an innocuous action that makes you flip out internally.

Franky gives you a gift: A cute little wind-up frog toy, made from scrap metal. He says it's to thank you for helping with repairs. You scan his face, but he’s only grinning proudly. Not Franky, either.

Zoro invites you to drink with him. Brook plays a song you like. Robin hands you a book she’s just finished, saying it might suit your tastes. Nothing unusual, but enough to make you second guess everything. Each time, you cling to your mask, holding it so tightly to your face that you can barely breathe.

The next day, Sanji cooks your favorite meal for dinner. That wouldn’t be too weird, except you know for a fact that your favorite involves pricy ingredients that he prefers to save. You know this because he mentioned it, years ago, when he was teaching you how to make the dish.

You and Sanji had joined the Straw Hats at the same time. Two weeks before Luffy had shown up, you had tried and failed to dine-and-dash from Baratie. Zeff forced you to work to pay it off, plus an extra week to “teach you a lesson.” That was when you got to know Sanji. Unlike the rest of the chefs, he wasn’t mad at you for what you did. He even taught you some of the basics of cooking. As the only soft presence on the floating restaurant, you grew attached, and that feeling of reliance never really left since then. You were drawn to his air of confidence and self-assuredness, but mostly to the fact that he never hid who he was, even when who he was could be straight-up idiotic at times. But you still respected that about him.

You always liked to hang out around the cook, helping him prepare meals with what you learned at Baratie. You both fought well together, having each others’ backs in battle despite your different fighting styles. It was safe to say that he was your favorite crewmate, and though you weren’t sure what he thought of you, you viewed him as your closest friend.

So you really, really don’t want it to be Sanji.

You appraise his expression, his movement, his actions. It all seems normal, on the surface. And yet, it feels off somehow, but you can’t tell if that’s just the paranoia speaking.

“How is it?” Sanji inquires.

You stare for a second. It’s not a question he usually asks–he knows it’s your favorite and he knows you think it’s amazing. Maybe it’s just your imagination, but the smile doesn’t seem to reach his eyes.

“Delicious, as always,” you say. Your own smile lights up your face, the way you’ve carefully practiced. “What’s the occasion?”

He pauses, rubs the back of his neck. “No reason, really. I just thought that it’s been a while since we’ve had it.”

That evening, you’re alone at the port side of the ship, leaning against the railing and looking out at the night sea. Sometimes it helps with your racing thoughts. This time, it does nothing. Nothing keeps you from fixating on the situation. You feel like you’re hanging by a thread, like at any moment you’ll get kicked off the crew, and then your whole world will unravel. And it’s entirely your fault.

The questions won’t stop repeating themselves: Who was it? Did they know?

Behind you, someone clears their throat. You whirl around a bit too quickly and steady yourself with a hand on the railing. Sanji’s standing there with his hands in his pockets. Something about his posture sets alarm bells off in your head. He’s too stiff, trying too hard to appear composed.

“Hey, Y/n,” Sanji says gently, “can I talk to you about something?”

It’s Sanji.

You’re immediately, wholeheartedly certain. It’s Sanji, and he knows.

You gape at him for a moment, then collect yourself. The mask comes back on.

“Actually, I’m pretty tired. Gonna turn in for the night. Tomorrow, okay?” you dismiss, and go to walk past him.

“Wait a second, Y/n,” he reaches to grab your wrist, but you yank it away before he can.

“Don’t!” you snap, stepping back, then quickly correct yourself. “I mean–don’t surprise me like that! We’ll talk tomorrow. I really should sleep...”

Sanji frowns, hand slowly lowering, and you make a hasty retreat.

The rest of the week is torture. You’re constantly avoiding Sanji wherever possible. He doesn’t strike up conversation when the others are around, which only makes you more certain that he knows. You ensure that you’re never alone with him, and if he does approach you by himself, you make yourself scarce. It becomes harder and harder to hide that you’re avoiding him. The crew takes notice–it’s not difficult considering you and Sanji are normally close.

Zoro’s the first to say something.

“Oi, Y/n. Did you have a fight with the cook or something?” he asks bluntly.

“No, we didn’t,” you reply.

Zoro’s eyes narrow slightly. “Well, you’re both acting weird.”

Some of the others are looking your way, now. Anxiety sours your stomach. You hold your mask steady as he continues.

“You’ve been kind of flighty lately. And he’s oddly subdued,” Zoro says, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, since he’s finally quiet for once, but it’s annoying. Would you just talk to him?”

“Uh…yeah, sure thing.”

Obviously, you don’t talk to Sanji. You keep evading him at every turn, only growing more distressed with each passing day. You know you can’t dodge the issue forever, but the moment you stop is the moment you’ll get kicked off the crew or worse, and that thought makes you want to die.

But the Sunny is only so large, and eventually, Sanji manages to corner you one night at the bow of the ship. You have your back to the figurehead, throat dry as you face him. Brook is up in the crow’s nest, keeping watch. Everyone else is asleep. It’s just you two, and you know you’ve run out of luck.

“We need to talk, Y/n,” Sanji says firmly.

Your throat goes dry. “Now?”

“Right now. No more running,” he says, taking a few steps closer. “I need to ask you something, and I need you to answer honestly.”

There’s no getting out of it anymore. “...Alright.” you say. Your heart pounds harder, palms growing damp.

Sanji takes a long drag off his cigarette, then stubs it out–that’s when your adrenaline really spikes, when you know you’re in for it. He looks you in the eye.

“Should you have access to firearms?”

The question hits you like a brick, stunning you into wide-eyed silence. You open your mouth, then close it, unable to respond for a second.

“...What are you talking about?” you try.

“Given how you’ve been avoiding me,” he says coolly, “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I’m–I’m not following.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Y/n!” he snaps, and you cringe. “Of everything you’re hiding, this is the one thing I’m going to find out. I’m not asking. You’re going to tell me or I’m going to tell Chopper. So answer me, right now: Are you safe around guns?”

You can’t take another step back, but you instinctively try anyway, your heel scraping the wood of the ship. But there’s nothing you can do. The mask crumbles, years and years of desperate crafting turning to dust in an instant.

“God, Sanji,” you respond, “what am I supposed to say to that?”

“The truth,” he says.

“And if you didn’t like my answer, what would you do? Take them away from me?”

“Yes.” His tone is unyielding, his eyes hard.

Yours start to sting at the corners. “And what after that? You’ll have me–” you bite your tongue to keep the tears from forming, “–you’ll have me kicked off the crew?”

“I never said that,” he says stiffly, “you don’t get it–”

“You don’t get it!” you bite back, voice rising. You lower it before continuing, “you don’t know anything.”

“I know you’re cutting.”

You flinch. The words sting. It’s not a pleasant sting this time. You turn your head, unable to look him in the eye.

“It’s just…” Sanji says, and there’s a touch of hurt in his voice, “after everything we’ve been through, I thought you trusted me.”

“I do,” you say automatically.

“You have a funny way of showing it.”

That stings even deeper. You shake your head. “I do, Sanji, but this is different.”

“Why?”

“It’s none of your business!” you bite. Bile rises in your throat at your venom; you hate being callous.

“My friend’s hurting themselves,” Sanji replies thinly, “that makes it my business.”

“That isn’t how this works!” you argue. “You don’t get to know everything about me just because you don’t like this!”

“Don’t I?”

“No!”

“You don’t feel safe with me.”

That one’s like a punch to the gut. You can’t tell what’s worse, the words themselves or the way he’s looking at you. That one hurts the most, because it’s true.

“...No,” you say after a moment, then steel yourself. “You’re right. I don’t. I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Sanji, please.”

“Don’t you plead now,” Sanji says, his tone hardening. “Don’t you put me in this position, Y/n.”

“I don’t have a choice, Sanji. I can’t. I just can’t.”

“Why?”

“Sanji!”

“Why?!”

“Because last time I trusted someone with this, I lost everything!” you blurt out. “I was institutionalized, okay?! Locked up! Is that what you wanted to know? Are you satisfied now?”

Your words echo in the silence that follows. He stares, jaw dropped slightly. You’re shaking, for real this time, and the words pour from you like a dam unblocked.

“You don’t know how humiliating it is, Sanji, to have the strings on all your clothes cut off, to be given only felt tip pens to write with, to not have doors, to have a scheduled bed time. To have all your choices taken away.” Your vision blurs as you continue. “I couldn’t do anything. It was like a prison. The other patients didn’t give a shit. The staff definitely didn’t give a shit. And all the while, they drained me of all my savings, until I didn’t have a single berri to my name. Then they kicked me to the curb. The one who reported me didn’t want to be associated with a crazy person. Neither did the rest of my friends. I was homeless. I had no one and nothing! That’s why I fled my home island, and that’s why I tried to dine and dash at Baratie.”

Sanji looks taken aback. He blinks quickly, then stares down at the deck. “What would you have me do, then?”

“This is supposed to be private!” You cover your face, fighting back tears. “You need–you need to keep your mouth shut and mind your business! I don't want anyone’s ‘support.’ You were never supposed to know.” You take a shaky breath and lower your hands. “If you really care, you’ll keep it to yourself, you’ll forget what you saw, and if you tell anyone…I won’t stick around to make the same mistake twice.”

Despite what you say, you already know it’s too late. There’s no going back, and now that he knows, it’s only a matter of time until you’re left behind. You bite your tongue to keep from crying at the thought, but you have to bite harder this time. The tears keep threatening to spill anyway, until you’re tasting iron.

Sanji is quiet. He pulls out his cigarettes and lights one, not speaking until after he takes a drag. “…Do you regret joining the crew?”

“Joining the Straw Hats was the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” you say honestly. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”

“But you aren’t happy, are you?”

“Multiply something by zero and you get zero, right?” You look away, guilt eating at you. Experience tells you that no one wants to hear this. “I’m not trying to sound dramatic. I just… I don’t work right.”

“I don’t think you’re being dramatic.”

For some reason, that, more than anything else, breaks you. The first tears slip past your defense. You say nothing, lower lip trembling.

Sanji takes another slow drag of his cig and exhales away from your direction. “I don’t know how I missed it.”

“I do,” you say. “At the hospital, they…” the words die in your throat as the memories surge forward. “They…they…” You can’t finish, but tears begin streaming down your cheeks. You shake your head. “Let’s just say, after that, I learned not to ever give anything away. Never again.”

“They did something to you.”

You barely nod. Already you feel yourself slipping into a flashback, feel the nurses holding you down and the needle jabbing into your flesh.

“I’m sorry,” Sanji says, taking a step toward you, and then another, until he can reach out and gently touch your forearm. The touch brings you back, grounding you so that you’re back in the present. But the gentle action, and Sanji’s soft expression, only makes the tears flow faster, makes your nose run. You shrug.

“It must have been scary.”

Slowly, you nod again.

“Will you answer my question, Y/n? Please?” Sanji asks. “Please, I need to know you’re safe around guns. Will you at least tell me that much?”

You swallow the lump in your throat and wipe your face. When you answer, you look him in the eye so he knows you’re telling the truth. “Yeah. I’m… Yeah.”

Sanji sighs, his shoulders sagging with relief. “Thank goodness. Okay. Can I ask you something else?” At your nod, he goes on. “How long have you been feeling like this? Before the hospital, I mean.”

“...Since I was young,” you sniff. “I’ve been ‘coping’ on and off for years.”

Sanji sticks his hands in his pockets. “Okay. Can I see?”

“What?” The question catches you so off-guard that you stop crying. “I’m–I’m sorry?”

“You’re not going to show Chopper, right?” Sanji says. “So–”

“You’re not gonna tell him?” you cut him off, surprised.

“I haven't decided yet,” he admits. “I don’t want to go against your wishes, Y/n. But I don’t know the extent of the damage. Just… Just, let me see?”

“No.” You’re shocked at his audacity. What’s he thinking? Of course you can’t do that.

“I won’t judge. I swear, I just want to know you’re okay,” Sanji says.

“You can say that, but…” you rub your arm. “Be real. You’ll never look at me the same way again.”

“It won’t change how I think of you.”

“It will!” you shout, then lower your voice. “It will, forever. There’s no going back once that line is crossed and you see me for what I really am.”

He frowns. “Which is?”

“A freak!”

Neither of you say anything for a moment. Then you shake your head again. “I’m sorry, Sanji. But a guy like you–strong, handsome, confident–you wouldn’t understand.”

Sanji gets a weird look on his face, one you’ve never seen in all the years you’ve sailed with him. He looks to the side, then down, then up. His drags on his cigarette become long and harsh, finishing it in three breaths. He lights another, making a face. Then he nods to himself, like he’s decided something.

“Okay,” Sanji says. “There’s something I want you to see.”

You frown. When Sanji puts his hands on the hem of his pants, you frown deeper. He pauses.

“Um. Just trust me, okay? I promise I’m not doing anything weird–just wait a sec.”

He slides down his pants, and you have no idea what’s going through his head until his pale upper thighs are exposed. Then, finally, you understand, and you cover your mouth in shock.

Both of his upper thighs are covered in a myriad of scars. There must be over a hundred, clustered just above where shorts would hide them. Most of them are big, inches long and criss-crossed with each other. A few are keloid scars, thick and raised above the skin.

Your stare could burn a hole through his flesh. Slowly, you look up at him. Sanji has a faint blush on his face, looking sheepish.

“Guys like me can be freaks too,” he says simply.

You’re in complete disbelief. You keep looking back from the scars to his face. It’s too much to process–where would you even begin? Sanji, of everyone on the crew–Sanji’s like you? Brave, unwavering, gallant Sanji? Of everyone? When you don’t respond, he speaks again.

“See, Y/n? You’re not alone.”

Tears sting the corners of your eyes again. You find your voice. “Yours are old.”

“Yeah. I got lucky. Had someone’s support.” Sanji smiles slightly, in a way that he only does when thinking of…

“Zeff?”

“Yeah. He eventually found out.” Sanji laughs nervously. “At first he freaked out. Thought I was using kitchen knives. After he calmed down, he told me…he told me he wouldn’t abandon me over that, because what kind of parent would that make him?” His expression wavers like he’s trying not to cry.

You, on the other hand, start crying again the moment you hear the word “abandoned.” You realize that’s precisely how you felt back then.

Sanji grabs your shoulders so you look up at him. “You’re not getting kicked off of the crew.”

“...I’m not?” you ask, voice small and pathetic.

“No. I promise.” Sanji squeezes your shoulders reassuringly. “No one else needs to know. But, Y/n, I’m not going to leave you to deal with this alone. So, will you show me?”

“...You won’t tell anyone?”

“I won’t. I swear on my honor. This stays between us.” He lowers his arms.

You bite your lip, sniffing. You shut your eyes, mustering up your courage, and nod. Sanji waits patiently as you breathe slowly to steady yourself. You hesitate before peeling back your sleeve, exposing your upper arm.

He’s quiet as he inspects the damage. Unlike his old scars, yours have yet to finish healing, still in the scabbing stage. A ladder of thin, dark red lines decorate your upper arm and shoulder. You look between your cuts and his scars. Yours aren’t as deep as what Sanji had done, which you feel weirdly ashamed about.

Sanji’s hand comes up, hovering over your cuts like he’s going to touch them, but then he rests it on your forearm instead. Despite the clear evidence that he won’t judge you, you’re still self-conscious, so you break the silence.

“The scabs catch on my sleeves,” you say awkwardly.

Sanji nods. “I had to bandage my thigh so it wouldn’t bleed through while I was working. It always felt so…”

“Stupid,” you both say. Then you both smile at the unexpected camaraderie.

“What’s really stupid is how long I went thinking I was the only one,” you say, “and all this time, you…” You gesture vaguely.

“Can you do something for me?” Sanji asks. “Whatever you’re using–I’m not going to take anything from you. But in exchange, I want you to talk to me. We can talk in the galley, when it’s just us two.”

“I don’t know how to talk about it.”

How could you, after what had been done to you? After everyone you used to trust turned their backs? Knowing that Sanji understood you couldn’t fix the mental scars left behind by others. You could try to rationalize it, but just thinking about discussing the past made your throat dry up.

“If I told you about mine first, would it make you more comfortable?” Sanji offers.

You balk. “You–you don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t mind, if it means helping you.” Sanji says earnestly. “You can tell me anything. I won’t judge. How could I? We’re the same.”

Something broken inside you changes right then. Deep engravings fill with gold like broken pottery, sealing some of the cracks in your soul. Unmasked and exposed, Sanji sees into you, and he doesn’t waver or turn. He smiles, gently and softly and lovingly. Your eyes fill with fresh tears.

Sanji holds out his pinky finger. “Freaks?”

You smile from ear to ear, even as the tears start flowing again, and lock pinkies with him. “Freaks.”

So caught up in the moment are the two of you that neither one notices when Zoro appears until it’s too late.

He’s further down the deck, but standing right under one of the ship’s lights, so you can see him smile. “Hey, you guys are–” he starts, then notices Sanji’s pants. His smile instantly turns to a look of indignation, then rage. “What the hell?!”

Sanji scrambles to pull up his pants as Zoro charges.

“What the hell are you doing to Y/n, you creep?!” Zoro yells.

You hurriedly pull down your sleeve and move in front of Sanji, holding your arms up. “Wait a sec, Zoro!”

“I-It’s not what it looks like!” Sanji cries.

Zoro screeches to a halt right in front of you, but then stretches over your shoulder to snarl at Sanji. “You better have a good explanation for this, shitty cook!”

You grab Zoro’s arms to hold him back. Not that you could ever hope to overpower him, but you know he’s too brotherly toward you to push you out of the way. “Zoro!”

“What?” Zoro turns his focus on you, “what did he do? I’ll kick his ass for you, Y/n.”

“No, that’s–”

Sanji interjects, “I didn’t–”

“We were…”

Zoro relaxes somewhat, now frowning and looking at both of you weirdly. “What exactly were you guys doing?”

Really, being in the middle of the night, it’s not a good look. You and Sanji are both caught off guard. Fumbling hard, you both speak at once.

“I was looking at a fungal infection!” you say.

“They were removing a tick!” Sanji says at the same time.

Both of you glance at each other.

“Tick,” you correct.

“Fungal,” Sanji says.

Zoro blinks. “A fungal tick?”

You both just nod.

Zoro stares between you two, then relaxes. “Oh... Okay. Good of you to not wake Chopper.” He nods and turns, leaving the two of you to it.

So flooded with relief are you that it’s staggering. You mentally thank the stars that Zoro is a simple and straightforward type of guy.

You and Sanji watch Zoro walk away. Once he’s out of earshot, you both look at each other.

Then you both burst out laughing.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, clutching your chest.

Sanji wipes away a tear. “That was close, huh?”

The laughter dies down into giggles before you calm yourselves, grinning at each other. Then you’re both throwing your arms around the other in a tight embrace, squeezing like you’ve never been hugged before in your lives. You bury your face in Sanji’s chest, he rests his head on yours. Your fingers dig into the other’s clothing, soaking in the warmth and the comfort that you could only get from someone who truly understood. You stay like that for a few minutes, quiet, close, and held.

“Are you sure?” you whisper after a minute. “That you want to deal with this? With me? What if I never get better?”

“Nothing’s set in stone but the poneglyphs,” Sanji replies, running a hand over your head so you look up at him. “Our future hasn’t been determined.”

“Our future?”

“You and me and the rest of the crew. There’s still time to grow, and to change.” He holds the back of your head tenderly.

“When does that time run out?” you ask, uncertain.

“It doesn’t.” Sanji smiles down at you. “As long as we’re alive, there’s another chance. That opportunity is always there.”

You smile back, then press your face into his chest again. Sanji squeezes you tighter.

“Tomorrow,” you mumble into his shirt. “Let’s talk tomorrow. I’m tired.”

“I bet.”

“I never want to hide from you again.”

You feel Sanji kiss the top of your head. “And I never want to make you cry again.”

“I want to tell you everything.”

“I’ll listen.”

You both stay like that for a while longer, each second spent there healing something within yourselves.

It will take weeks to figure out how to talk about your troubles. When you’re up for it, you talk in the galley as Sanji cooks, you helping him out as usual with prep and cleanup. It’s even longer before Sanji learns everything. In the interim, you become the only Straw Hat to learn of Sanji’s past before he ever gets a wedding invite.

Like worn muscles rebuilding, like bone regrowing stronger, the scars you’ve revealed to each other, both physical and mental, strengthen your bond more than anything else ever could.

"let it out, let me in, take a hold of my hand / there's nothing like another soul that's been cut up the same" -Handwritten, The Gaslight Anthem

#one piece x reader #sanji x reader #reader insert #one piece imagines #zen writes

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okay-j-hannah · 1 year

Text

A Merchant Sailor

Pirates of the Caribbean : Fic

Will Turner x Reader

Word Count: 3061

Warnings: Swarthy pirates fighting each other... Will being lied to... Will also being a sweetheart

Request: “This is me absolutely begging and foaming at the mouth for you to write a Will Turner x reader. I’m fine with fluff or smut lmao. I have a couple ideas if you also want to write multiple (or blend them into 1), you totally don’t have to though. Being Jacks sister but also constantly making berth at Port Royale when you were younger, results in a close friendship between you and a certain Mr. Will Turner. The killer is, you always told Will your brother was a merchant and that you would accompany him on his trips. In reality, you were always off doing pirate things with Jack. Consequently, the day Jack broke into Mr. Brown’s smithery, you later arrived with Will. This resulted in a 2 on 1 fight (or maybe not) with a lot of confused looks being shared between Jack and yourself. Plus Will defending your honor” @gingerdissapointment

A/N: Pretending to be a merchant, you befriend Will Turner as you keep your pirating a secret, until your brother forces you to reveal the truth

Her sword clashed terribly with the swarthy pirates of the East Atlantic, fighting over hidden treasure beneath the sandy shores of a neutral island. She kicked up the dry sand, silencing the battle cry of the enemy.

He spit and scratched at his eyes as (Y/N) jabbed the sword into his stomach, shoving him aside. Whipping around the beach, Jack pranced away from a group of opposing pirates. She rolled her eyes at his wailing.

“For the love…” she ran after her brother, realizing that with the crew winning the battle, the other pirates were running for Jack. In his hands lay the key to the gold.

She waved off Cotton’s parrot and threw a dagger at Marty, the blade sticking into the sand, to give him a chance to cut the ropes around his wrists. Ahead was Jack and a quartet of pirates splashing along the shore.

The erratic steps of their captain sent seawater cascading onto his pursuers. The noise was enough cover for (Y/N) to pull another dagger from her many pockets and throw it at the furthest pirate. It sunk into the back of the assailants neck, sending him splashing into the sandy water.

The remaining three didn’t notice the bigger splash as they continued their cries of pursuit. (Y/N) was gaining on them, searching for another object to throw at them, silently thanking her brother for his distracting, wild methods of escape.

She spotted a mound of rock creeping out of the ocean and as they neared it, she grasped a pockmarked rock from the thick, muddy sand. Grunting from the momentum, she swung her arm wide and launched the weathered stone at the next pirate. She successfully cracked the top of his skull, forcing him to fall froward into the sea and salt.

The thunk of his unconscious body alerted his crewmate, a bare chested man with sunburnt skin. He seemed momentarily confused to see a much younger girl running at him.

It was enough of a distraction that he didn’t react to the elbow she rammed into him. With the speed of her steps it was the right amount of force to throw him from his feet. She slashed her sword across his legs as she tumbled forward, hopefully keeping him incapacitated and unable to follow further.

Adrenaline coursed past the burning of her muscles as she screamed at her brother, “I swear to God you will be carrying me back to the ship after I save your pitchy drunken arse!”

She reached the last assailant, tackling him into the salty shore. Her cry of accusation spoke through Jack’s panic, making him peek behind his shoulder and then stop altogether, completely perplexed as to why all four pirates chasing him just moments before were all in the seawater.

But a second longer he realized it was his little sister rolling around with the final pirate, splashing wet sand and salty water all around them.

“Oh,” Jack gasped, winded from his erratic run, “The cursed stowaway decides to be helpful.”

“Bastard,” she growled, finally pummeling the hilt of her sword against the pirates temple. “I was never a stowaway.”

Jack made a disgusted face as the pirate’s flailing limbs stilled against the shore. “You disturb me.”

“Likewise,” she breathed heavy, rising to her feet completely soaked and flecked with sand. “Do you run like that on purpose?”

“I have no idea what you mean.” He pushed past her, extracting the old rusty key needed for the hidden treasure of the island.

She wobbled on her shaky legs, “You look like you’re running on hot coals, prancing on your tiptoes like that.”

They followed their footsteps quickly being washed away by the frothy waves. They passed over the rocky pockmarked mound and after pausing in her bickering with her brother, found something half submerged in the water.

Saltwater seeping into her boots, she crouched and extracted a massive opalescent seashell. It glimmered in a rainbow of colors with the sunlight warming the face of it. It was peach and coral and lavender and seafoam and crystal blue.

It made her chapped lips smile at finding another relic of the ocean for her best friend.

During the many adventures of Jack Sparrow and his stubborn little sister, they managed a few trips to the provenance of Port Royal. There (Y/N) had befriended a young blacksmith apprentice.

At the age of thirteen she was mastering the art of pickpocketing and stealing small objects from markets and stores. On her way to swipe a few daggers from the outside barrel, Will Turner had come out with grease stained hands and a soot covered face.

She quickly dropped the blades back in the barrel.

Will looked her up and down, a young lad of her similar age. “Can I help you?” He eyed the hand she hid behind her back.

“Just… looking for a gift,” she cleared her throat, “For my brother.”

“You want to give him a sword?” Will rubbed his dirty hands along his apprentice apron, “Is he a part of the Navy?”

She blinked a few times, “He’s a merchant. We sail to different ports to sell our goods.”

The answer seemed to put him more at ease. He believed her. “I could see where a sword might be helpful. There are less friendly types along distant shores – pirates and the like.”

She nodded slowly.

There was a pause before he continued, “I’m William Turner.” He seemed bashful to extend his grimy hand.

She gave a shy smile, weeks at sea with a motely crew and her pirate brother made her yearn for friends and company. She slowly accepted his hand, “I’m (Y/N).”

“And your surname?”

“Just (Y/N),” she smiled.

He smiled back, “It’s not proper to call a lady by her first name.”

She almost gawked – it was the most manners she’d seen in years, “I have no other name.”

“Your family name?” he asked, a little line appearing between his brows. “What of your brother?”

“We were orphaned at a young age,” she shrugged, “There was no record of our full titles.”

Will nodded solemnly, “I’m sorry.”

She looked towards the ground, “I’ll tell my brother of your smithery. Perhaps we’ll visit again.”

A desire to give her more of a reason to see him again, Will extracted a freshly polished sword from the wall. “Here, use this for your gift.”

“But I haven’t any money,” she said quietly.

“Then I’m gifting it to you,” he grinned, “I’m learning to make swords, I’ll just make another to replace this one.”

She laughed, “Thank you, Mr. Turner. I should do well to return the favor in the future.”

He passed over the hilt, “I look forward to our next meeting, Miss…” He seemed to struggle for a moment, “Miss. (Y/N).”

Five years had passed since that initial meeting and at reaching adolescence, (Y/N) was excitedly walking the streets of Port Royal to find the smithery. Over the years she had developed the habit of collecting trinkets and objects of her travels to show Will.

He still believed her to be a merchant, learning the trade from her honorable elder brother. And he found himself looking hopefully towards the white sails of the docks more than once to see her briny steps.

He longed for her visits, growing accustomed to her witty banter, wild stories, and lovely smile. And in the meantime, he practiced the art of black smithery and fashioned her intricate and deadly weapons, hoping to be of help as she sold them at the next port.

In reality (Y/N) was using these gifted weapons in her adventures pillaging islands and seeking treasure with her pirate crew.

To make herself feel somewhat better about all the lying, she sought to gift bits of all the gold and treasure she found to Will. He always got so excited to see things from beyond the shores of Port Royal.

“Mr. Turner,” she said orderly, “The coals have gone cold. What are you doing dallying about?”

Will turned from his workshop table, smile already on his clean shaven face. The summer had been kind to him, growing a couple inches and broadening his shoulders since the last time they met.

“Miss. (Y/N),” he said quietly, as if relieved she had come back at all. It was easy to imagine horrors befalling her while at sea, “You can’t imagine how good it is to see you.”

They hugged each other, (Y/N) laughing and Will grinning. He apologized for getting soot on her cheek, attempting to rub it away, “I’m so sorry.”

“Not at all,” she waved his fingers away, not wishing to have him feel how flushed the action made her.

He seemed in a similar state as a pink color flooded high on his cheekbones. “You’ve brought me more souvenirs?” he said as he spotted the bundle under her arm.

“Yes,” she said eagerly, “You’ll never believe what I found.” She went to the workshop table and laid out a roll of leathery animal skin, a few jagged shark teeth, and the opalescent seashell she found on her last adventure.

“Did you trade for some shark?” he laughed, touching the dried, scaly shark skin.

(Y/N) smiled, remembering the time she killed the reef shark while circling the coral shoreline of a tiny island. She was alone in a paddleboat and saw the opportunity to stick her sword through the predators skull.

“Yes, I’d say it was a rather lucky trade. Can’t you use this skin to make sword handles?”

He nodded, “That I can.” He looked at her from the corner of his eye, shy in how much he wanted to look. He never knew how long it would be between visits and while she was there he wanted to soak up every second.

“How long are you here?” he asked, hopefully.

(Y/N) bit the inside of her cheek, “Three days.”

Will sighed, nodding to himself, “Well then, we’ll just have to make the most of the next three days.” He untied his apron and made sure the furnace was cut off from heating more fuel.

“What is there to do that we haven’t already done?” she laughed, remembering days of captaining sailboats, sword fighting in the square, climbing palm trees, and catching crabs.

Will seemed undeterred by the question, “There’s plenty to do. We haven’t swum in the pools by the cove. We haven’t gone for tea in town. We haven’t ever attended the Governor’s Ball before.”

“The Governor’s Ball,” she scoffed, “Please, Will – a merchant has no place at a ball.” A pirate has no place near the highest powers of the British garrison.

“Don’t worry, I know people in town. We can find you a dress and I can teach you anything you’re worried about.” He returned to her side and took her hands, “Let me take you dancing.”

She looked at him in wonder, “You’d take me dress shopping?”

He smiled and gave a quiet nod, “I figured we’re not kids anymore, (Y/N). We could… we could go to a ball together.”

She squeezed his hands a bit tighter, “All right,” she smiled, “All right, but only if we can still go hunting for coconuts and go horseback riding through the town.”

“Whatever you want,” he grinned, “I’d go pirating just to spend another day with you.”

She froze, still with a smile on her face, “Would you really?”

He shrugged, “Maybe.”

~~~

A few years later and (Y/N) had found herself back in Port Royal and scouring the streets for her idiot brother.

After a long time coming mutiny from Barbossa, Jack was left stranded with nothing but a pistol. (Y/N) having fought and spit and destroyed half the Black Pearl to keep the mutiny from happening, she was left to the brig.

As skillful as she was, (Y/N) was out of the prison within a day, finding her way to a paddleboat and rowing for the remote island Jack was on. She was soon picked up by a real merchant boat that passed rumors of a peculiar wily man telling stories of roped sea turtles.

It led her to the nearest ports to where she learned Jack had stolen a sailboat that was headed to Port Royal.

And there she was in search of the pirate, hoping she could stop him before he did anything terribly stupid.

She spotted a curious number of redcoats marching in the streets. She tried to keep them from her mind as she nodded to some of the shopkeepers that recognized her from previous visits.

That was until she noticed a heavily scarfed man sneaking into the smithery, beads and all. She groaned, running for the shop.

“Jack,” she whispered, closing the wooden door behind her with a click of the lock. “What the devil are you doing here?”

He was hanging by the cogs of the donkey operated machine, accomplishing his goal of breaking his chained wrists apart.

“(Y/N)?” he said, “How did you find me?” He peered over his shoulder as if to see the army it must’ve taken to track him down to Port Royal.

She rolled her eyes, “After years pirating with me you still doubt my capabilities. I wasn’t about to stay on the Pearl with Barbossa and his stupid monkey.”

“I’ve found myself in a bit of a problem,” he said, brandishing the cuffs on his wrists.

“I can see that,” she cursed, hands on her hips, “You’ve got the entire British army knocking down every door.”

Speaking of which, someone was coming through the front.

“Damn,” (Y/N) whispered, feeling her brother drag her into a hiding place.

It was Will coming home, no doubt, from dropping off another well forged sword. He settled into the shop, inspecting his tools when he came upon a hat.

A pirate hat.

(Y/N) glared at her brother and bared her teeth, “You piss poor excuse for a pirate.”

Jack leapt from his hiding place, sword in hand to take back what was his. He directed the blade at Will’s chest.

“You’re the one they’re hunting,” Will said. “The pirate.”

“You seem somewhat familiar – have I threatened you before?”

(Y/N) smacked her face with a hand, scrounging for the nearest sword, which wasn’t hard considering they were in a blacksmith. She watched carefully as Will and Jack shared a few feints and parries with their swords.

She was impressed to see that Will had continued to practice his swordplay.

It wasn’t until a hurling sword stuck itself in the door that (Y/N) made her appearance.

“Will, stop!” she cried, brandishing her weapon, “Please, leave him alone.”

“(Y/N)?” he questioned, focus momentarily off his target, “When did you get to Port Royal?”

Jack had extracted his own sword, “Come along, dearest. It’s best we leave.”

Will flipped his head between the pair of them, “Excuse me?”

“I’m really sorry about this, Will.” She swallowed hard, sidestepping towards the window as Jack did the same, “But we need to go.”

“You and…?” he frowned, “The pirate?”

“My brother.”

Stunned, Will almost missed the attack coming from Jack. He swooped to the furnace and pulled out a red hot sword, blocking the incoming blow.

(Y/N) screamed, “Jack! Leave him alone!”

The pair of them struck and danced and parried around the forge – Will angrier than (Y/N) had ever seen him.

“How do you know (Y/N)?” he demanded.

Jack made a face as he blocked another blade, “How do you know (Y/N)?”

“He’s my brother, Will,” she cried, stomping her way to where she might join the swordfight. “I lied about him being a merchant.”

“A merchant,” Jack grimaced, “Could’ve done better with the lying, love.”

“(Y/N) is not a liar,” Will gained a few steps with his hard hitting blows, “She is an honest woman and a fair fighter.”

Her sword came between them, directing Will’s into the ground, “I’m sorry, Will.”

He was breathing heavy, bewildered, “But he’s a pirate.”

Jack pointed his sword in (Y/N)’s direction, exasperated, “SHE’S a pirate!”

Will gave him a scathing glare before completely disregarding his weapon and tackling Jack to the ground. They rolled around the hay and dirt as (Y/N) shouted at them.

“This is not how to handle a misunderstanding, Will! Jack, pull yourself together with what little dignity you have left. For God’s sake…” She planted herself between the brawling pair and shoved Jack to the side, keeping him from launching a counterattack.

“What is he so hellbent on protecting your name for?” Jack wheezed, using one of his many scarves to dab at his neck.

Will was boiling, “(Y/N) is an honorable woman and I won’t have you slander her name with titles like pirate. She is respectable and good and not at all capable of what you’re suggesting.” He looked towards (Y/N), “I refuse to think of the most important person to me as a criminal.”

(Y/N)’s mouth fell open, “Will…”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, mate,” Jack said, twirling his sword around, “But she’s my sister. And by association – a pirate.”

Will let his arms hang limp at his sides, staring at (Y/N)’s feet – unable to meet her eyes. “Is that true?”

“I knew I wouldn’t be welcome if I told you what I really was,” she grimaced, “I didn’t plan on us becoming friends.”

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, “All those gifts you gave me…”

“Listen, Will…” she didn’t dare take a step forward, “I know you’re mad. But I never lied about anything else. I never pretended around you. This is me, pirate or not. You know me. And this is not how I would’ve told you, but for the sake of me not getting hanged today – could you please let us go.”

Will looked deep in an inner turmoil, fists clenching as he fought over her words. Jack was still trying to yank out the sword pinning the door closed.

“I haven’t forgiven you…” he muttered, letting out a great sigh, “But there’s a path out back you can take for the docks.”

(Y/N) nodded, “Thank you.” She placed a hand on his arm while on her way out. “I’ll come find you tonight.”

He clenched his jaw, but finally looked at her, “Just come back safe.”

Her heart beat a little harder, a little warmer, “I will.”

~~~

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