#Marine Navigation Lights

[yushuolighting]

What Color Lights Should a Vessel Display When It Is Out of Control

In the realm of maritime navigation, ensuring safety during nighttime or low-visibility conditions is paramount. Vessels rely on navigation lights to communicate their status and avoid collisions. It is critical for vessels that are out of control to display the correct lights. This alerts other mariners to their compromised state. This article discusses the lighting requirements for out-of-control vessels as per the COLREGs. It highlights the advantages of modern marine LED navigation lights. Additionally, it offers practical advice on installation and maintenance to ensure compliance and safety.

Light Requirements for Out-of-Control Vessels

A vessel that is out of control should display two vertical all-round lights. This is stated in Rule 27 of the International Regulations for Preventing Collisions at Sea (COLREGs). They must be in the most visible position and red in color. These lights must be all-round lights to ensure visibility from 360 degrees. This lighting configuration clearly conveys to other vessels that the vessel is in an out-of-control state. It requires other vessels to pay special attention. They must take corresponding avoidance measures. For example, in busy channels, the lighting display of an out-of-control vessel can help other vessels identify it quickly. They can then adjust their course to avoid potential collision hazards.

Installation Requirements for Lights

Why Choose Marine LED Navigation Lights

More and more modern vessels choose LED navigation lights, for the following reasons:

Maintenance of Lights for Out-of-Control Vessels

Conclusion

The light display of an out-of-control ship is an important part of ensuring ship safety. According to the requirements of COLREGs, an out-of-control vessel should display two vertical all-round red lights. Choosing marine LED navigation lights can improve visibility. They also reduce power consumption. Additionally, they ensure the reliability and durability of the lights. Regular inspection and maintenance of the lights is the key to ensuring vessel safety. By following these regulations and recommendations, vessels can maintain good lighting displays in various navigation conditions. This helps them effectively avoid collisions with other vessels. It ensures the safety of maritime navigation.

[marinesboat]

"Shine Bright, Sail Safe: Essential Navigation Lights for Boats!"

Navigation lights are a crucial safety feature for any boat, ensuring visibility and compliance with maritime regulations. These lights help prevent collisions by signaling a vessel’s position, direction, and size to other boats, especially in low-light conditions or poor weather. Red and green sidelights indicate port and starboard, while white stern and masthead lights mark the boat’s presence. LED options offer energy efficiency and long-lasting durability, making them ideal for extended voyages. Whether cruising at night or in busy waterways, reliable navigation lights keep you safe and seen on the open water.

[yffylights]

Marine Navigation Light Marine Lantern Light YFFY- LS/H

[uamariner]

Buoys Card #20

[david843346]

Marine Navigation Light Market: Global Demand Analysis & Opportunity Outlook 2024

Recent report Published by Research Nester titled “Marine Navigation Light Market: Global Demand Analysis & Opportunity Outlook 2024” delivers detailed overview of the global marine navigation light market in terms of market segmentation by type, by application and by region.

Further, for the in-depth analysis, the report encompasses the industry growth drivers, restraints, supply and demand risk, market attractiveness, BPS analysis and Porter’s five force model.

The global marine navigation light market is segmented into type segment such as basic navigation lights, lights of special significance and others. Among these segments, basic navigation lights segment is projected to grasp a significant CAGR over the forecast period. Furthermore, growing international seaborne trade is predicted to intensify the demand for new ships which is expected to bolster the growth of marine navigation light market. Moreover, rising number of ships is also anticipated to flourish the growth of marine navigation light market.     

Get Exclusive Sample Report Copy Of This Report @ https://www.researchnester.com/sample-request-539

Global marine navigation light market is projected to post a tremendous CAGR of 5.3% during the forecast period i.e. 2017-2024. Moreover, the global marine navigation light market is anticipated to reach exponential revenue by 2024. Additionally, the marine navigation light market is riding on the back stringent government policies.

The ship segment by application is projected to capture considerable CAGR over the forecast period. Further, various legislation regarding the adoption of marine navigation light into ships is anticipated to flourish the growth of ship segment. In terms of geography, Asia-Pacific region captured the biggest percentage of market share in global marine navigation light market and is anticipated to continue its dominance over the forecast period on the account of the growing marine industry.

Further, China and India are the major countries contributing in the market of marine navigation light. Apart from this, North America marine navigation light market is projected to be the most lucrative market.

Increasing International Trade Activities 

According to Society of Maritime industries, the volume of overseas trade is projected to grow from 9 Billion tons to 19 Billion tons by 2030. In addition to this, developing nations are anticipated to witness lucrative economic growth in near future which is expected to increase the global economic trade volume. This factor is believed to foster the growth of marine navigation light by the end of 2024.

Stringent Government Legislations and Guidelines

Strict government regulations regarding the installation of marine navigation light on steamboats and others ships is envisioned to trigger the growth of marine navigation light market. Furthermore, advancement in marine navigation light and introduction of low cost marine navigation light are some of the factors propelling the market of marine navigation light. On the contrary, volatile nature of commercial shipping is anticipated to hamper the growth of marine navigation light market by the end of 2024.

This report also provides the existing competitive scenario of some of the key players of the global marine navigation light market which includes company profiling of Venta Global Ltd, Attwood Marine Products, Glamox ASA, Sealite, Britmar Marine Ltd., Vega Industries, Hella Marine, Lopolight ApS, Navisafe AS, PERKO Inc., and LAZIAS. 

The profiling enfolds key information of the companies which encompasses business overview, products and services, key financials and recent news and developments. On the whole, the report depicts detailed overview of the global marine navigation light market that will help industry consultants, equipment manufacturers, existing players searching for expansion opportunities, new players searching possibilities and other stakeholders to align their market centric strategies according to the ongoing and expected trends in the future.     Get Exclusive Sample Report Copy Of This Report @ https://www.researchnester.com/sample-request-539

[theplotmage]

50 Fantasy Prompts: Cultures and Societies. Writers Save this!

1. Luminae

- A society that worships light and revolves around bioluminescent creatures.

- Gesture: Raising both hands to the sky and opening palms to signify receiving light.

- View: Light is considered the purest form of energy and the ultimate source of life.

2. Mistral Nomads

- Wind travelers who harness the power of the breeze for navigation and communication.

- Gesture: Whispering into a small vial and releasing it into the wind, symbolizing sending a message.

- View: The wind carries the voices of ancestors and guides the living.

3. Veilwalkers

- Inhabitants of the mist who can see and manipulate spirits.

- Gesture: Drawing a veil across the face to communicate with spirits.

- View: The world of the living and the dead are separated by a thin veil that can be crossed.

4. Starforged

- People born under specific constellations with unique abilities tied to their birth star.

- Gesture: Touching a constellation tattoo to activate its power.

- View: Stars are the eyes of the gods, watching over and guiding them.

5. Shadecloaks

- Masters of shadow magic, living in perpetual twilight.

- Gesture: Merging fingers into the shadows, symbolizing blending into the darkness.

- View: Shadows are protective, hiding them from danger and giving them strength.

6. Seraphians

- Winged beings who consider themselves guardians of the skies.

- Gesture: Unfurling wings in a greeting, showing trust and openness.

- View: The skies are sacred, and flight is a divine gift.

7. Pyrosages

- Fire-wielders who live in harmony with volcanic landscapes.

- Gesture: Holding a flame in one hand while placing the other hand over the heart, symbolizing passion and life.

- View: Fire is a cleansing force, both destructive and renewing.

8. Aquafolk

- Ocean dwellers with the ability to breathe underwater and communicate with marine life.

- Gesture: Creating ripples in water with a fingertip to convey emotions.

- View: Water is a mirror of the soul, reflecting true feelings and intentions.

9. Silvan Elves

- Forest guardians who blend seamlessly with their environment.

- Gesture: Touching foreheads with a leaf, symbolizing unity with nature.

- View: All life is interconnected through the roots of the great tree.

10. Necrochanters

- A culture deeply connected to the afterlife, able to communicate with and summon spirits.

- Gesture: Drawing a circle with ashes to summon spirits.

- View: Death is not the end but a transformation to another state of being.

11. Stonekin

- Rock-like beings who can manipulate earth and stone.

- Gesture: Pressing a hand to the ground to communicate with the earth.

- View: The earth holds ancient wisdom and the memories of their ancestors.

12. Aetherians

- Masters of air magic, capable of floating and flying at will.

- Gesture: Raising arms and fingers to mimic the flow of air currents.

- View: The air is filled with invisible threads that connect all living beings.

13. Chronomancers

- Time-benders who can manipulate past, present, and future.

- Gesture: Tapping a timepiece rhythmically to alter time flow.

- View: Time is fluid and can be molded to fit the needs of the moment.

14. Dreamforgers

- People who can enter and manipulate dreams.

- Gesture: Weaving fingers in intricate patterns while in a trance.

- View: Dreams are a bridge between realities, holding power and prophecy.

15. Sunseekers

- Pilgrims who follow the path of the sun, gaining strength from its light.

- Gesture: Holding a hand above the heart to swear oaths under the sun’s gaze.

- View: The sun’s light is a witness to all promises, giving them sacred weight.

16. Frostborn

- Ice-dwellers with control over cold and frost.

- Gesture: Exhaling a cold breath to signify agreement or truth.

- View: Ice preserves and protects, holding the essence of life.

17. Songhearts

- A musical culture that uses songs and sound for magic.

- Gesture: Placing a hand over the throat and singing a single note to show sincerity.

- View: Music is the language of the heart and the most honest form of communication.

18. Runecarvers

- Inscribers of powerful runes that grant various abilities.

- Gesture: Tracing runes in the air or on surfaces to cast spells.

- View: Runes are the written words of the gods, containing immense power.

19. Stormcallers

- Masters of weather, able to summon and control storms.

- Gesture: Raising a staff to the sky to summon storms.

- View: Storms are the breath of the gods, bringing both fury and renewal.

20. Plainsriders

- Nomadic horsemen known for their speed and agility.

- Gesture: Drawing a circle in the dirt with a foot to mark territory or signal peace.

- View: The open plains are a vast, sacred expanse that must be respected.

21. Mycologians

- Mushroom-like beings who can communicate through spores.

- Gesture: Spreading spores by tapping a mushroom cap to communicate.

- View: Fungi are the bridge between life and decay, recycling energy.

22. Glimmerfolk

- Glittering, gem-encrusted people who can harness the power of precious stones.

- Gesture: Touching gemstones to channel their energy.

- View: Crystals are vessels of ancient power and knowledge.

23. Thornclad

- A warrior culture clad in thorny armor, known for their fierce combat skills.

- Gesture: Clasping hands with thorned gloves to signify a bond or agreement.

- View: Pain and resilience are intertwined, symbolizing strength.

24. Celestials

- Star-born beings with a deep connection to the cosmos.

- Gesture: Drawing constellations in the air with glowing fingers.

- View: The night sky is a map of destiny, guiding their every action.

25. Inkshapers

- People who can bring drawings and tattoos to life.

- Gesture: Drawing a symbol on their skin to activate a spell.

- View: Ink and art are extensions of the soul, capable of bringing thoughts to life.

26. Mirageweavers

- Desert dwellers who can create illusions and mirages.

- Gesture: Waving hands to create illusions and mirages.

- View: Reality is fluid and can be shaped by perception and will.

27. Echoers

- A culture that communicates and fights using echoes and soundwaves.

- Gesture: Clapping or snapping fingers to create soundwaves for communication.

- View: Sound is a powerful force that can shape the world around them.

28. Ironveins

- Metal manipulators who can shape and control metal at will.

- Gesture: Clenching fists to channel metal manipulation.

- View: Metal is a living force, constantly evolving and reacting.

29. Wyrmkin

- Dragon-like people with scales and the ability to breathe fire.

- Gesture: Exhaling a plume of smoke or fire to show respect or power.

- View: Dragons are the ultimate beings, embodying wisdom and might.

30. Duskborn

- Night-dwellers who gain strength from the moon.

- Gesture: Holding a candle to their chest, symbolizing the light within the darkness.

- View: Darkness is not to be feared, but embraced as a part of the natural cycle.

31. Crystalhearts

- A society with crystalline bodies that can refract light and energy.

- Gesture: Touching their heart crystal to show honesty and purity.

- View: Crystals are the heart of their being, reflecting their true selves.

32. Skyforgers

- Builders of floating cities and airships.

- Gesture: Hammering an invisible anvil to craft objects from thin air.

- View: The sky is a forge, and they are its smiths, creating wonders from the air.

33. Leafkin

- Plant-based beings who can photosynthesize and communicate with flora.

- Gesture: Placing a leaf in the palm to connect with nature.

- View: Leaves and trees are the lifeblood of the earth, nourishing all.

34. Sandshapers

- Desert people who can control and shape sand.

- Gesture: Drawing patterns in the sand to communicate or cast spells.

- View: Sand is a canvas for their magic, constantly shifting and changing.

35. Moonshadow Elves

- Elves who live in the shadows of the moon, skilled in stealth and night magic.

- Gesture: Casting moonlight on their face to invoke lunar power.

- View: The moon is a guide and protector, influencing their magic and lives.

36. Bloodrunes

- Warriors who use their own blood to inscribe powerful runes.

- Gesture: Pricking a finger to draw blood and create runes.

- View: Blood is the essence of life, and through it, they gain power.

37. Dreambinders

- People who can link their dreams to reality.

- Gesture: Twining fingers together to weave dreams into reality.

- View: Dreams are powerful forces that can shape and change the world.

38. Thunderclans

- Tribes who worship and control thunder and lightning.

- Gesture: Stamping feet or clapping hands to summon thunder.

- View: Thunder is the voice of the gods, a call to action and power.

39. Feywilders

- Inhabitants of the fey realm with unpredictable and chaotic magic.

- Gesture: Dancing in a circle to invoke fey magic.

- View: The fey are mischievous yet powerful, their magic a blend of chaos and beauty.

40. Mirrorborn

- People who can step through and manipulate mirrors.

- Gesture: Touching mirrors to travel or communicate.

- View: Mirrors are portals to other realities, reflecting infinite possibilities.

41. Wispwalkers

- Ethereal beings who guide lost souls.

- Gesture: Holding a wisp of light to guide lost souls.

- View: Wisps are guides and protectors, leading them through darkness.

42. Frostweavers

- Ice artisans who create intricate and magical ice sculptures.

- Gesture: Weaving ice crystals into intricate patterns.

- View: Ice is a delicate and beautiful force, capable of great power.

43. Starwardens

- Celestial knights who protect the realms from cosmic threats.

- Gesture: Drawing star maps in the air to invoke celestial power.

- View: The stars are guardians, watching over and protecting them.

44. Emberkin

- Fire-dwellers with control over embers and ash.

- Gesture: Snapping fingers to produce sparks and embers.

- View: Embers hold the remnants of fire’s spirit, representing both the end and beginning of the flame.

45. Oceanborne

- Sea nomads who can control the tides and waves.

- Gesture: Drawing water symbols in the air to summon sea spirits.

- View: The sea is a vast, living entity, a source of mystery and power.

46. Windwhisperer

- Communicators with the wind, able to send messages across great distances.

- View: The sky is a living entity, responsive to the voices of those who respect it.

- Gesture: Moving gracefully to mimic the flow of the wind.

47. Etherseekers

- Gesture: Holding out their hands to draw ether into themselves.

- View: The ether is a vast reservoir of magic, accessible to those who seek it.

48. Twilight Guardians:

- Gesture: Holding a lantern to light the way through twilight.

- View: Twilight is a sacred time, a bridge between day and night.

49. Windwalkers

- Gesture: Moving gracefully to mimic the flow of the wind.

- View: The wind is a messenger of the gods, carrying whispers of destiny and change.

50. Eclipsewatchers

-Gesture: Covering one eye while the other remains open to signify balance

- View: Eclipses represent the merging of light and dark, a time of balance and reflection.

[inseobts]

Captain’s Orders (Even the Silly Ones!)

luffy x gn!reader

because his captain’s orders are actually for the silliest reasons

words count: 1.2k

tags: fluffy, sfw, humour, gender neutral

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

The sun hangs high over the Thousand Sunny, casting warm rays over the deck as the crew goes about their daily business. It’s a relatively peaceful day—no marines, no sea kings, no sudden ambushes. Just the sound of waves and seagulls filling the air.

Which means it’s the perfect time for your captain, Monkey D. Luffy, to start handing out ridiculous orders.

Standing at the ship’s railing, Luffy puffs out his chest and grins wide “Alright, everyone, listen up!” he announces, hands on his hips.

Zoro, who is in the middle of his nap, cracks one eye open “What now?”

Luffy ignores him and points dramatically at you “Y/N! As your captain, I order you to give me a kiss!”

You blink “That’s… not how captain’s orders work.”

“It is now!” he declares.

The crew collectively sighs. This is nothing new.

Robin chuckles behind her book “He does have the authority, technically.”

You roll your eyes but smile anyway “Fine...” Stepping forward, you place a quick peck on his cheek. Luffy beams like he just won a fight against an admiral.

“That’s the spirit!” He turns to Sanji next “Oi, Sanji! Captain’s orders! Make a cake for y/n!”

Sanji flicks his cigarette “You do realize I would’ve done that anyway, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s more fun if it’s an order.” Luffy snickers.

Sanji sighs but heads to the kitchen nonetheless “At least he has good taste in orders.”

Nami crosses her arms, smirking “Luffy, shouldn’t you be giving real orders?”

Luffy tilts his head “These are real orders!”

“No, I mean actual captain stuff! You know, navigating, battle strategies, anything remotely useful?”

Luffy gasps as if she just suggested something absurd “That sounds boring.”

Franky walks past, adjusting his sunglasses “Honestly, I kinda respect it. Most captains would be barking orders about ship maintenance, but this guy? Priorities.”

“EXACTLY!” Luffy shouts, fist-pumping “See, Franky gets it!”

Chopper giggles “So what other ‘important’ orders do you have, Captain?”

Luffy taps his chin in thought before his eyes light up “Brook! Captain’s orders! Play a song so y/n and I can dance!”

Brook laughs “Yohoho! Of course, Captain!” He grabs his violin and starts playing a lively tune.

Luffy immediately grabs your hands, spinning you around the deck. “C’mon, y/n! This is fun, right?”

You laugh, stumbling slightly as he twirls you “Okay, okay, but you’re supposed to let me lead sometimes!”

“Nope! Captain’s orders—I get to lead the dance!”

Zoro groans, rubbing his temple “I swear, this idiot is impossible.”

Usopp sighs, sitting on a barrel “I don’t know why we even act surprised anymore. Hey Zoro, wanna dance?”

The ridiculousness continues for the rest of the day.

At dinner, Luffy slams his hand on the table “Captain’s orders! Everyone eats dessert first!”

Nami glares at him “Luffy, you always eat dessert first since y/n told you it's their favourite”

“Yeah, but now it’s an order!” He grins before stuffing his face with cake.

Later, when you’re sitting at the bow of the ship enjoying the breeze, Luffy plops down beside you and rests his head on your lap. He looks up at you with that signature playful grin “Hey, y/n”

“Hm?”

“Captain’s orders.” He pokes your cheek “Be happy forever.”

Your heart melts a little at that one.

You smile, running your fingers through his hair “Aye aye, Captain.”

The days pass with Luffy continuing to abuse his “captain’s orders” for the silliest reasons. At this point, the crew has learned to just roll with it—or, in Zoro’s case, ignore it completely.

Today, the Sunny is gliding across calm waters, and the sun is blazing. Too hot to train, too hot to run around, and too hot to do anything productive. Everyone is lazing around in the shade, enjoying a rare, peaceful afternoon.

Then, Luffy stands up suddenly from where he’s been sprawled out on the deck “ALRIGHT, CREW! NEW CAPTAIN’S ORDERS!”

The reactions are immediate.

Zoro groans, rolling over onto his side to pretend he’s asleep. Nami rubs her temples like she already has a headache. Sanji exhales a long puff of smoke. Usopp leans back against the railing, looking mildly concerned.

You sit up from your spot beside him “What is it this time?”

Luffy points dramatically at the sky “It’s too hot. Captain’s orders—everyone in the water!”

Robin raises a brow over her book “That’s just called going for a swim, Luffy.”

“Yeah, but this way, it’s official,” he argues.

Franky grins “Well, can’t argue with that. LET’S GOOOO!” He cannonballs straight into the sea, sending a massive splash over the deck.

Brook laughs “Ah, I’d love to join, but I’ll drown!”

“Just float in a barrel or something!” Usopp suggests.

Chopper looks hesitant “I guess I could use a break…”

“I will not be getting my hair wet” Nami says firmly.

Sanji is already setting out towels “I’ll get drinks ready for when you guys get back.”

Luffy turns to you and grins “Y/N! Captain’s orders—you have to jump in with me!”

You shake your head with a laugh “Luffy, you can’t swim.”

“That’s why you’re coming with me!” Before you can argue, he grabs your hand and leaps off the ship, taking you down with him.

The water is a refreshing shock against your skin. When you surface, gasping, Luffy is already grinning like a fool “See? This is fun, right?”

You splash water at him “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it.” He laughs, flailing his arms to stay afloat “Now hurry up, I’m gonna drown.”

You sigh but swim over, letting him cling to you like a koala.

“Oi, Luffy, stop abusing y/n as a flotation device” Usopp calls from the deck.

“It’s fine. Captain’s orders” Luffy replies smugly, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You shake your head but smile, letting him hold on.

That night, after dinner, the crew is gathered on the deck under the stars. The sea is calm, and Brook is playing a gentle tune on his violin. It’s peaceful—until Luffy decides to disrupt it.

“Captain’s orders!” he suddenly announces “We’re having a cuddle pile!”

A collective groan echoes around the deck.

“No way in hell” Zoro says immediately.

Nami pinches the bridge of her nose “Luffy, not every order has to be something dumb.”

“Yes, it does” he insists. Then he turns to you with a grin “C’mon, y/n! Captain’s orders—you have to cuddle me!”

You sigh, already used to this, and pull him down beside you. He immediately wraps his arms around you like an octopus.

Robin chuckles “Well, I suppose there’s no harm in following this order.” She sits down beside Nami, and soon, Chopper is curling up between them.

Brook lies down on the deck “I have no body heat, but I’ll participate in spirit.”

Usopp grumbles, but even he leans against Franky.

Zoro, of course, remains at a distance with his arms crossed.

Luffy sighs happily, nuzzling into your shoulder “See? Best captain’s order ever.”

You chuckle, running your fingers through his hair “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it” he repeats, grinning up at you.

You roll your eyes but kiss his forehead “Yeah, yeah. Captain’s orders.”

[physics-of-one-piece]

Merlot & Primroses (Doflamingo x Reader)

Chapter 1

(AO3 link)

Summary: Your husband’s brother finds you. Life with him and his sham of a family is as cold as the snow your husband was found buried in. You're going to wilt slowly living with Doflamingo, you’re sure. No flower can survive in such snow.

Tags: Doflamingo x Reader, Rosinante's Wife!Reader, Civilian!Reader, Female!Reader, Rosinante x Reader (mentioned through flashbacks), Murder, Mentions of Fratricide, Emotional Breakdown, Grief, Angst, Hurt, Post-Minion Island, North Blue Doflamingo, Red Suit Doflamingo, Doflamingo is His Own Warning, Celestial Dragon Traditions, Donquixote Brothers, Adult Themes, New Tags Added with Each Chapter

A/N: It's finally here. The Red Suit Doffy fic I've been working on since... (checks dates of the first chapter) September 2024. Damn. I've only got the first two chapters written, everything else is vibes, but I want it to be 8-10 chapters. I also wanted to explore Doflamingo's way (or lack thereof) with showing/wanting/offering physical affection. This post is great analysing it and is the one that inspired me to even start thinking of writing it deeper and Doflamingo's lack of offering touch, and his use of touch when he does choose it/want it. It just confirmed to me back then that Doflamingo is INCREDIBLY touch-starved and very very not aware of it which has the potential to be very dangerous. Especially North Blue Doflamingo. (shudders) Also... I'm not sorry about the GIF. If I had to suffer making it, you have to reward my suffering by suffering while watching it. It's only fair 🥺

Word Count: 11.7k words

Chapter Navigation: 1 (you are here), 2, 3

Chapter 1

The moment you and Rosinante moved into your house in North Blue for Rosinante’s mission, you had no disagreements over furniture placements and colour configurations. You both adored white and blue, and light colours, so there weren’t a lot of disagreements. The one thing you and Rosinante immediately agreed upon was the colour of your bedroom’s walls, both the ceiling and the surrounding four walls — sky blue.

To Rosinante, it was his favourite colour, and to you, it reminded you of the sky and the sea. It reminded you of the sky blue dress shirt Rosinante wears under his white waistcoat when wearing his marine uniform as a Navy commander — the uniform he wore when you met him.

It’s the sky blue ceiling you wake up to.

You’re laying in the bedroom you share with your husband, no weight of your clumsy blond husband on the other side, drooling away and snoring — silently thanks to his Devil Fruit — in his sleep.

That’s the first thing you notice.

It’s silent. Unnervingly so.

You roll over, half-asleep, glancing toward the alarm clock on your desk beside the marine transponder snail.

It’s way past the time Rosinante should have contacted you to tell you of successfully healing Law by making him eat the Op-Op Fruit.

Aren’t they back yet?

They should’ve been back by now.

Rosi would have called you that they’re on their way by now. You could heat up the dinner leftovers, or… No, you’d start on another dinner! Minion Island is cold this time of year, and although you’d bought Law the warmest cloak you could find in the town, he would probably still feel an unpleasant chill. You’d make them warm soup easy on the stomach.

Or... or...

A cake! A cake to celebrate Law beating his disease for good, and Rosi’s official last self-given assignment as Corazón. He could finally remove that mantle for good.

You were definitely going to convince him to keep his black feather coat, though.

The weather must be bad. The North Blue Sea was infamous for its waves during the winter months. Or maybe they're laying low on Minion now that the marines have arrested the Donquixote Pirates.

But Rosi would have called you if they were staying low; he’d promised to call you.

The yellow transponder snail with the white and blue shell rings.

You lunge across the bed to reach it, lifting the receiver by the time the second ring sounds out, your heart leaping in relief — Rosi must be calling to tell you they’re okay, that Law is healthy now, that they will come home soon —

The voice that said your name wasn’t Rosinante’s.

“Vice Admiral Tsuru,” you said, eyes wide. You cleared your throat. “Yes, it’s me.”

“Your husband, marine commander Donquixote Rosinante…”

Why does Tsuru-san sound in pain?

“...is dead.”

The world stopped, turning completely silent.

All you could do was stare blankly.

What?

The last two words repeated in your head like a broken record.

Rosinante is dead. Rosinante is dead. Rosinante is dead.

Rosinante… is dead?

Those words didn’t belong with Rosinante’s name. Rosinante and the word dead didn’t belong in a sentence.

Shock left you mute, your head completely empty.

“We found him in the snow, with twenty bullet wounds. Sengoku confirmed his identity,” Tsuru’s voice sounded pained and hoarse. Then, the marine vice admiral abandoned her white coat, and said to you, woman to woman, “I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes filled with tears. It can’t be… it can’t be Rosi… not Rosi…

“He’s right here with me.” said Tsuru, while your hand around the receiver started to tremble. “We’re taking his body to Marineford. We’re sending a ship to escort you there tomorrow.”

Body. Body. Rosinante’s body.

Rosinante’s corpse. Your husband’s corpse.

“Understood.”

You put the receiver on the snail, its “Ga-chak.” filling the silence.

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. The sound of it echoes in your head. Your sight blurs, and you lose sense in your legs. The next moment, you’re sitting numbly on the floor in the bedroom which you and Rosinante painted together, surrounded by the sky blue walls, tears running down your cheeks.

What just happened? What…

Seconds ago, you were thinking about what food to warm up if Rosinante and Law managed to come back at this time late at night.

Seconds ago, Rosinante was alive.

You shuddered, crying more tears.

Now, you'd just gotten a call he’s... dead? That they’re transporting his body to Marineford?

Shock numbed you. That didn’t make sense. Just three days ago, Rosinante slept beside you, his large body wrapped around you, keeping you tucked into his chest, keeping you warm. He’d been beside you, breathing, talking, smiling and alive.

In the snow? Twenty bullets in him? Twenty? Rosinante never got that many bullet wounds.

You grab at your throbbing head.

This can’t be real. It doesn’t make sense. Rosinante had been right here, which only felt like hours ago. He'd been right here with you, in this very room, his warm, soft lips kissing yours, his face snuggling in your neck, his blond curly hair between your fingers, his long arms wrapped snugly around you, his angelic laugh tickling your ear.

It’s not real. It’s not real, this is a nightmare, it’s not real. You’re having a nightmare. This isn’t real. It can’t be, it can’t —

“Rosi…” you whisper shakily, trembling. You choke on a breath. Your chest hurts.

Your mind struggled to catch up to your body, which was shaking, panting, tears streaming down your shocked face and open, wide eyes.

You realise your lungs are hurting, your breathing rapid — alarmingly, so.

You can’t breathe.

You can’t breathe.

You’re going to suffocate in the wave of your grief.

You rush outside. The air is cold. You inhale it greedily, foggy clouds sifting out of your mouth. Your chest felt painful while you gasped in the air. Your ribcage was squeezing in on itself. The cold air made you realise how warm the tears on your cheeks were.

You couldn’t stand anymore. You fell to your knees, and the sounds burst out of you; you started crying openly, loud, uncontrollable sobs leaving your mouth.

You screamed, howling into the sky, crying uncontrollably. The sounds your body produced, your lungs released, were heart-wrenching, full of agony.

You wept and wept, sobbed and screamed, hiccuped and choked, looking up at the starry night sky without really seeing it, tears streaming down your face as you howled in agony into the sky you used to watch together with Rosinante, crying toward the far-away stars.

All you could see was Rosinante, smiling brightly at you, his voice saying, “I love you!” filling your ears.

And your heart was wrenched open and killed.

Dead with your husband.

All you could do with the unbearable agony inside you was weep and howl like a dying, mourning animal.

***

How does betrayal feel like?

It feels like silence.

Silence of four years, a gap battled with taps on the den-den mushi and ink on paper.

It feels like the silence being broken by a voice. A voice not as deep as Doflamingo’s but sounding godly all the same, confident and calm, a softness Doflamingo’s didn’t possess.

His little brother’s voice, which Doflamingo mourned the loss of, not knowing he was mourning an empty lie. So many nights he spent thinking how Rosinante's voice would sound like as an adult, how his laugh would sound like, hoping maybe with time, he would hear it - one day, one day, one day — not knowing it was there all along and Rosinante had denied him all of it, had given it to the marines, to Law, to strangers Doflamingo didn't know.

Doflamingo hated them all.

Why did they get to have it and he didn’t?

Rosinante was his little brother, his family, his only equal, the only one who understood, the one who’d been through the same hell as he had... And yet, Doflamingo never got Rosinante back, never truly met his brother as an adult, not really. All Doflamingo got from Rosinante was a mask and silence, while they got everything.

All Doflamingo was given was a scrap, and lies.

So many lies.

Rosi — the one who gave his nickname to him because he couldn’t pronounce Doflamingo’s full name when he was two, shortening it into a harmless nickname full of fondness — didn’t even call him Doffy.

The first words Rosi said to him after four years of silence, after eighteen years of nothing, was his fucking marine code.

Rosi talked to him like they were strangers.

“You just had to go and screw everything up! Why did you come back just to mess with me, Corazón?!”

What Doflamingo meant by those words was: Why? Why did you come back? You should’ve stayed away from me if you hated me. Then this wouldn’t be happening! I wouldn’t have to do this if you’d stayed away from me!

The pain of betrayal is sharp and agonising.

Like a bullet.

Like red blood on white snow.

Doflamingo wouldn’t be surprised if he was bleeding in the same places Rosinante had, too.

Vergo’s words rang out in his head.

“Corazón has a wife.”

Doflamingo stared at the picture of you on the file Vergo sent him, staring down at your face.

At the one Rosinante gave everything to…

Finding out something like this...

It felt like... Like the first inhale of the fresh, clear sea morning, like the first bite into a feast after starving for a week, like the most pure, fresh water after a long trek in the desert.

Doflamingo thinks he understands now why Rosi didn’t stay away from him, why Rosi returned.

Because Rosi couldn’t stay away. If not for himself, then for his wife. Would Doflamingo be able to stay away, if he knew his brother was alive somewhere, with a wife, and hell, maybe planning to have a family? Would Doflamingo be the one considering a choice; stay away or meet? Cursed if you don’t, cursed if you do.

Would Doflamingo be able to do it?

He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t be able to stay away from Rosi, or from Rosi’s family. Because Doflamingo was family, too. Rosi’s family was Doflamingo’s family, too.

Just like now, Doflamingo couldn’t stay away from you. It was impossible. It felt like his own threads were pulling him toward you, urging themselves forth from his fingertips, reaching out to wrap around you, no matter how much he was sure you didn’t want them to.

Just like how Rosi couldn’t stay away from Doflamingo no matter how much he hated him, Doflamingo couldn’t stay away from you no matter how much he knew you hated him.

He just couldn’t. The thought was painful to bear, the mere image of staying away threatening to shred the last remaining piece of Doflamingo’s heart held together by strings.

“Doffy?” Vergo’s voice across the snail pulled Doflamingo out of his thoughts; he was still staring at your file, at the picture of you, at your name. “What do you want to do?”

Doflamingo got out of his chair, grabbing the pink feather coat that laid on it.

“I’m going to go get her,” he said, swinging the pink mantle over his shoulders. He grabbed a quill and parchment, writing down a note for Trebol and the others to find.

He looked outside. It was early in the morning; Vergo's call and documents he sent had woken him up. It was still dark out on the sea.

“Understood,” said Vergo without question. “Safe travels, Doffy.”

Doflamingo hummed in response, and put the receiver back down on the snail. He exited his cabin, walking to the balustrade of the ship, putting his right foot atop the rail. The wind was chilly, brushing at his face.

He still had a family. Rosinante had not only left Doflamingo behind.

He left a wife behind, too.

Doflamingo took to the sky.

***

Something burns on your skin. Your eyelids flutter open; the morning light sneaks in through the curtains, casting your eyes in the ray of gold. Your brows furrow in pain from the light hitting you.

You feel empty.

You woke in the puddle of your own misery. You've cried and howled yourself into sleep on the white carpet. You don’t know when you entered inside again after releasing the howl of agony into the night sky.

The house is empty.

Rosinante isn’t home yet.

That’s okay. You’ll wait. You’ve waited before. You can wait a bit more.

Rosi will come back.

He’ll come back.

It was just a bad dream.

You curl into yourself, tired.

Rosi always comes back, no matter what.

You’ll make pancakes… and you’ll wait for Rosi. You’ll make a lot of batter so you can make him and Law loads when they come back. They’ll be hungry after their trip.

Early dawn was outside, and the blue sky was painted with clouds.

A knock came at your door. You dragged yourself to it, and opened the doors.

A dark-skinned, handsome man dressed in marine uniform and coat towered above you, twice your height, nearly three meters tall. His dark, charcoal eyes were red-rimmed, revealing he’d been crying. His usually slicked-back, tidy white hair was rumpled and untidy, as though he’d wrestled with someone.

“Wulf,” you say, staring at the tall navy commander.

“Hey,” he whispers, voice hoarse and morbidly quiet. “Can I come in?”

You open the doors wider, letting him in. Wulf closes the doors behind himself, locking them with the key in the keyhole.

“I’ll go make you some tea,” you offered, hurrying to the light blue kitchen to place the kettle on the stove and grab a tea bag

“No,” he said. “I’m not here for…” He clenched his eyes shut. His large body shuddered.

“You can sit down while I —”

“I don’t want tea, dammit!” snapped Wulf.

His yell made you flinch, and you turned still.

“Fuck,” Wulf breathed, full of pain, tears glistening at his eyelashes. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, quieting his voice. “I’m sorry. Fuck.”

Wulf’s large body slumped down, landing on the large white couch. He lowered his head to the floor. His large, dark hands lifted up to his hair, grabbing at the thick strands tight. He closed his eyes, a look of pain on his face.

“It’s okay,” you offered quietly.

There was no emotion in your dull, lifeless eyes, empty of any spark. You could see how tired Wulf was. He probably didn’t sleep a wink. He looked an absolute mess. You weren’t ready to look in the mirror to see how much of a mess you were.

After what felt like an eternity of silence, Wulf spoke up. “We need to send a search party out for Law. He wasn’t the boy the Minion marine patrol took into custody.”

Search party? For Law? But that would mean… that would mean Wulf would have to explain to Sengoku who Law was.

“No,” you breathed.

“Huh?”

“Don’t you dare tell them about Law!”

Wulf’s eyes widened at the sudden surge of life in your dull eyes. You were tightly gripping the collar of his white dress shirt with both your hands, staring at him with a numerous amount of emotions filling your eyes, your face.

“If Law’s alive, they’ll go after him because he’s got the powers of the Op-Op Fruit!” you yelled at him. “Don’t you dare make Rosi’s death be for nothing!”

You froze.

Oh.

You said it.

Death.

That’s right.

Your fingers let go of Wulf’s collar.

Rosinante…

Died.

A chill swept through your body, making you shiver.

“Law,” you whisper, trying to keep yourself together, keeping your sanity stitched with the thoughts of the little boy. “We need to find Law.”

“Minion -”

“Why aren’t you and your team setting sail for it already?!” you asked desparately. What if Doflamingo sent his agents to scour the island? What if Law was...

“If I’m to ask for a marine ship, I need to give them a good reason!”

“You never did shit by the book, Wulf! That was Rosi!”

“Yeah, and I always got sent flying across Marineford by Sengoku for it, or did you forget that part?”

“I’ll call the patrol on Minion and tell them to look for Law.”

“No!” you yelled. “Doflamingo’s got a spy in the Navy! He’ll find out Law’s still there and find him before you!”

You could see Wulf’s thoughts racing in his head. “Then, I’ll send Hibou -”

“Hibou doesn’t fly fast enough! You can’t send him there alone! Law doesn’t trust marines!”

Wulf hesitated. “It took me and Rosi longer than a day to activate our Devil Fruits… Law might not be…”

“Law is a genius!” you yelled. “He’s going to be the best doctor in the world! Some stupid disease won’t kill him!”

Law was not dead. Your husband believed in Law, and you believed in Law, too. That kid was strong. Stronger than you were.

Law had fallen asleep reading on your lap. You put a blanket over him, but anytime you tried to remove yourself from him, the boy would murmur disagreeably, clutching onto your pants with his tiny fingers in his sleep. Rosinante cooed over him, snapping a few pictures of Law — and some of the two of you — with the camera snail because you two were the most adorable sight on the planet, according to the younger Donquixote. But you could see it in his brown eyes. Rosinante was worried sick for Law.

“Don’t worry, Rosi,” you said, reaching out with your free hand — the other one was running gently down Law’s dark hair — to take your husband’s much larger one, settling it over his scarred, pale palm.

“Our boy is too strong to die,” you said firmly.

The touch and words appeared to break Rosinante out of the pit of his thoughts, the blond man sitting beside you turning to look at you, wide-eyed.

“Our?” asked Rosinante in a whisper.

“What?” you asked, blinking.

Rosinante sniffled. His eyes glazed over, his lips trembling. Before you could see what was wrong with him, the blond turned away from you shyly.

“Rosi, are you crying?” you asked, worried.

“N-No!” squeaked the big, blond man, hiding his face in the pillow of the white couch of the home you shared, wiping at his teary eyes. “No, what are you talking about? I’m not crying!”

You smiled softly, a swell of affection blooming within you, overwhelmed by love you felt for him. Rosinante was so kind and gentle, with a truly bleeding heart. It was one of the reasons you fell in love with him on first sight — his kindness and clumsiness won you over right away.

“Our, huh?” murmured Rosinante softly.

“Yeah,” you confirmed, making sure there was no question about it. You were willing to die for the boy sleeping on your lap. You were willing to fight the entire world for this boy, were willing to die for him. “He’s our boy now.”

“Yeah.” The smile lit up Rosinante’s face, casting him in heavenly light; he looked like an angel, his soft brown eyes staring gently down at the sleeping boy. “He is.”

“Our treasure.” whispered Rosinante, reaching down to caress Law’s cheek with his fingers.

Wulf took a breath.

“Okay. If there is a spy, as you say, I’ll call Sengoku-san directly to lock down Rosi’s file.” Wulf shuddered. He looked down at you, full of worry. “If Doflamingo finds out about you, he’ll come to kill you. I’ll put Nietzche and Hibou on patrol around this island, and the rest of us will head to Minion -”

“No,” you said, something burning inside you. The next words came out of your mouth on instinct. “Use me as a lure.”

Wulf’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Use me as a lure,” you said, meeting Wulf’s gaze. “It’ll keep Doflamingo’s attention off of Minion Island long enough for you to get Law away. If Doflamingo comes, he comes. I know how to shoot a gun.”

Wulf frowned, disliking the idea entirely. “You don’t know what he’s -”

“Doflamingo killed him.”

The words are out. Because both of you knew. You and Wulf knew Rosinante wouldn’t get killed so easily. Nobody could kill Rosinante except Doflamingo, because Rosinante would have fought them tooth and nail, and there was no way anyone on Minion Island could have given Rosinante trouble — not even those top executives — except Doflamingo.

If it came down to having to directly hurt Doflamingo, you knew Rosinante wouldn’t be able to do it. You never faulted him for it. In fact, you loved him for it. You would never ask Rosinante to do such a thing, even if your own life was on the line. You’d rather die than force him to make such a choice, to even think about it.

Rosinante loved his brother more than anything, no matter what.

But it seemed Doflamingo loved power more than he loved Rosinante.

It sickened you. It infuriated you. Rosinante could never hurt Doflamingo, not for duty, not for revenge, not for anything. So how could Doflamingo hurt Rosinante?

“His only family… And Rosi told me enough to get a glimpse of what his brother is like. So if he finds out, he finds out. He’ll come here, and you all - all six of you, will go to Minion Island while he wastes time coming here, and you’ll take Law away from there.”

For a moment, Wulf said nothing, simply staring at you with his dark, black eyes, momentarily surprised by your words.

“You… aren’t trying to follow Rosi, are you? Because you know… you know he’d want you to stay alive, to take care of that kid.”

Chills rose on your spine, but they weren’t of fear. You didn’t raise your head. You simply lifted your eyes to Wulf’s, and let him see what was within them.

It wasn’t sadness, or a wish for death. It was determination, burning and fierce, mixed with burning fury.

Wulf sighed in defeat. He could tell by your eyes you weren’t going to back down from this.

“I’ll call in some favours for a ship. I’ll call you when I have everything ready.”

Wulf said your name.

“He killed my brother in arms.” said Wulf darkly. “It’s not just you or me who wants him dead.”

Wulf turned his head over his shoulder to gaze at you, his eyes full of bloodlust. “The crows are hungry for Doflamingo’s blood.”

“Shut the door after me,” Wulf said, then left.

You did just that. You walked back to the kitchen, breathing in and out. Your stomach felt empty. You needed to eat something.

Pancakes.

If it’s going to be your last meal, you want it to be a good one. Therefore, the pancakes with chocolate syrup is the best decision for the last meal. An easy, simple meal.

Your fingers tremble.

You can’t believe Rosinante is gone.

Simply… gone.

How are you supposed to wake up tomorrow knowing Rosinante will never be lying beside you again?

Tears well in your eyes. You take a breath, swallowing them down. You’re not allowed to cry again. Not yet. Not until you know Law is safe.

You head up the stairs to change from your night dress, heading back to yours and your husband’s bedroom. You survey your wardrobe.

Before you know it, you’re opening Rosinante’s part of the wardrobe, taking one of his blue shirts from the hanger, hugging it tight to your chest.

You kept holding on to the calm you got with him. You hold onto the scent of him you’ve come to know; coal and citrus, woody smells that he always wore that felt like a hug around your shoulders.

For a while, you sit on the bed, holding your husband’s shirt, trying to pretend he was there when you knew he wasn’t. Eventually, you returned back to the terrible reality, and put his dress shirt back on the hanger.

Light blue. You decide if you are going to get killed by your brother-in-law today, you want to die in light blue. It was Rosi’s favourite colour, and you grew a love for it over the years. You need somewhere to conceal a weapon. You grab black pants, put the light blue blouse over yourself, and get dressed.

You open the drawer in your night table, staring down at the small, black revolver. You pick it up, check the safety hammer is on, then check the cylinder holding six sea stone prism bullets. Loaded, ready to be fired.

You holster it under your blouse, making sure you can reach it quickly.

It’s silent. So silent.

You’ve never heard silence quite this loud.

You head to the kitchen to make the pancakes. You wished you’d made them before Wulf arrived; he needed something to eat.

The day is sunny, the birds are chirping in the trees. But there is a somber, mourning silence in your house. You gather the bowl to crack the eggs in and make the batter.

Rosi would already be stumbling out of your bedroom by now, dressed in his blue striped pyjamas, his blue sleeping hat atop his head, his sleepy face endearing in a handsome way, his blond waves of bed head swept in all directions, his hands rubbing the sleep off his eyes before he stretched his arms out and yawned to the point tears edged at his lower eyelashes.

Then, he’d see you and smile like the sun before greeting you with a happy, sweet, “Good morning!”

You look out of the window. The scenery in front of you is so vibrant, green forest and blue river. Doesn’t it know all your life has died? The most colourful painting is worthless to you.

You make the batter without having to think too much about it, so used to the movements they became second nature to you, just as fighting was second nature to Rosinante. You start the stove, listen to the clicking sound of the fire, adjust it, and set the frying pain on it, spreading butter along it. Then, you pour the batter in. The smell of the pancakes soothes you, and once the side is fried well, you flip it, and wait for the bubbles again.

They remind you of gunshot wounds.

Twenty gunshot wounds. Were they all from Doflamingo’s flintlock? Did the fucking bastard put twenty bullets in your husband, treating your husband like he was swiss cheese?

You set the first pancake on the plate, and make twenty more. You take the chocolate syrup and spread it over each one thoroughly with a butter knife, then roll the pancakes. You sprinkle sugar over them, and serve them at the center of the table.

“Look, Law! Pancakes!” cheered Rosinante happily to the little boy with the spotted hat trailing after his long legs like a baby penguin after its father; you held back a giggle at the two sleepyheads, smiling gently at them. 

Rosinante greeted you with a kiss, getting a “get a room!” from Law, and then he sat down at the table and inhaled the smell of the pancakes. 

“Ah, they smell so good, dear!” said Rosinante, smiling brightly at you.

“Come on, Law! Don’t be shy!” said Rosinante, patting the chair next to his. “This is my wife’s masterpiece! After you taste her pancakes, you’ll never want to eat anything else for the rest of your life! You can live on pancakes!”

“You can’t live on pancakes,” grumbled Law.

“Well, if you do end up liking them and want more, I’ve got more batter in the bowl, so I’ll make you more if you want, okay, Law?” you asked.

Law blushed. “Thank… you…”

You glanced at Rosinante questioningly, speaking with your eyes to him. Did Law not have pancakes with the Donquixote Pirates? Rosinante shook his head sadly, in a way that told you Law didn’t let himself be a kid, so he never ate ‘kid stuff’ like pancakes. 

Tentatively, Law took the rolled up pancake, and after glancing to Rosinante, who was eating his own with his hands — the pancake looked miniature in your husband’s fingers, almost like a toy — chomping down on the roll enthusiastically, Law did the same.

You nearly squealed from the cuteness as you watched the two eat.

Law’s eyes widened after the first bite, and then they lit up, filling with light. A small, tiny smile bloomed across his face, and he stared at the pancake with child-like joy.

There he was. A little boy, not a tough, pirate apprentice.

Law quickly devoured the pancake, the little smile on his face filling you with joy. You smiled happily.

Once Law realised he’d eaten the single pancake he took, he glanced from the plate, then toward you, and asked, “Can I have another?”

Rosinante cooed. “You can have my entire plate, you cute little pancake!”

To prove how much he meant it, Rosinante slid his plate of a pile of rolled-up pancakes to the little boy.

Law scowled, though to you it looked more like a cute, indignant pout with his cheeks puffed up that way.

“I’m not a pancake, Cora-san!” Law protested, for which he got a fond chuckle from Rosinante, who simply beamed down at him.

You giggled. They were so cute.

“Of course. You can have as much as you want, Law.” you said softly, smiling gently at the boy.

Law nodded, that little smile sneaking onto his face again.

You stared at the plate loaded with twenty rolled-up pancakes.

You made too much.

Tears started flowing down your eyes again, uncontrollable and wet. You wipe them from your cheeks, sniffling. But they keep coming out, so you let them cascade down your cheeks, letting them roll in silence as you sit down, murmur a sob-filled, “Thank you for the food.” and grab one pancake from the plate and force yourself to eat it.

The taste is great. But your taste buds can’t appreciate it. You start sobbing halfway, and your hands slide up to your face, covering your eyes. You rest your head on the dining room table and cry your eyes out into your forearms, hiccups and sobs shaking your body.

You can’t do this. You can’t do this. You can’t, you can’t...

It hurts too much. You're going to be sick —

Rosi... Rosi!

Your cries and sobs echo across the kitchen tiles, creating a tragic symphony.

After you’d cried yourself out to the point your chest hurts and your throat feels sore, you eat the pancake to the end.

Outside, the azure sky is impossibly clear. The cicadas are so loud. They make the loss of Rosinante’s silence more deafening. You’ve always had too sensitive and too precise of a hearing; you could hear droplets from a well ten meters away, and the slightest rustling of the leaves in the wind. You could pick up who was approaching you by the sound and weight of their footsteps — a thing that freaked some people out. It wasn’t any devil fruit; you stayed away from devil fruits because you had no need of them working as a translator for the marines, and you liked to swim.

Rosinante told you it could be a form of Observation Haki. Apparently, the advanced, one-in-a-million Observation Haki users are able to hear people’s inner voices. That sounded absolutely terrifying to you. How didn’t people go insane with that? It wasn’t an ability you wanted, and thankfully, your hearing didn’t seem to reach that crazy, abnormal level.

Rosinante was practically your sound therapy with his Devil Fruit. He made the world around you go silent, muted all the noises, be it the spinning of a washing machine, the shrieking of the birds, the insistent meowing of an alley cat, the barking dogs, the annoying cicadas that you thought about committing arson over by setting the entire forest on fire…

“Honey, that’s illegal. Also, I’m the one usually setting fire to stuff, it’s my whole thing!” Rosinante was genuinely distressed. He gave you a pleading look, pursing his lips, which started to quiver and tremble, his eyes filling with tears as he cried — his sad puppy look,which immediately melted your heart, making you coo internally. He was absolutely adorable. “You can’t do my thing!”

Rosinante snapped his fingers. “Silent!”

A purple sphere came alive, momentrily floating above his finger, and then enlarged, pulling the two of you into its space. All sound from outside vanished.

You launched yourself at him and hugged him, wrapping your arms around his neck, your legs around his wide waist. “I love you, Rosi! I love your Devil Fruit!”

Rosinante’s face grew deeper shades of red by the passing second, until, quite literally, the gathered temperature exploded in a burst of steam out of his ears, and your husband combusted into flames.

“I love you!” he yelled, peppering you with kisses, pulling you onto his lap, making you giggle and laugh. You squeezed your tall husband’s back as much as the length of your arms allowed you to.

“I love you more,” you said, staring up at him lovingly.

“Nuh-uh,” said Rosinante, his face turning serious. “I love you mo —”

You shut him up with a kiss, burying your fingers in his soft, silky golden hair, pulling him down to you.

Rosinante smiled into the kiss, admitted defeat, and enveloped your lips in a deep, long kiss, his hands coming up to cradle your head, his fingers warm and sweet on your cheek.

In the end, with how breathless and flushed Rosinante left you, you thought you were the defeated one in the end.

You can’t take it anymore. You want out. Out of this house that is full of memories of the happiness you two had, of so much potential, now silent like a grave.

You get your bag, grab some cash to buy groceries to make for lunch. Rosinante wouldn’t want you to wallow in misery, much less not eat. He was always fussy about making sure you ate, always insisting on serving you seconds, and you knew why. It broke your heart.

You reach the small port town, passing by people, your eyes unfocused, lost in memories. Your feet are leading you somewhere, a familiar path which you and Rosinante took many times.

You remembered when he surprised you the first time he managed to sneak away after completing his first mission for Doflamingo ahead of schedule, bearing you gifts, unaware his presence was the greatest gift to you of all.

In the early morning, your husband dragged you out of bed for a “surprise”. It would have been a normal, endearing, funny wake-up call if your husband’s arm wasn’t nearly the length of your entire body. Being dragged out of bed by Rosinante’s excited arm felt like being launched by a slingshot from one point to another.  And of course, the landing point ended up being Rosinante’s body, and because it was Donquixote Rosinante, he failed to consider his own pull strength — once again, slingshot fast — and that was how you ended up falling on his chest. He, of course, as the good marine he was, caught you so you don’t get hurt, and once more failed to take another of his natural skills into account.

His clumsiness. 

With a shriek as panicked as your own — albeit for different reasons — Rosinante moved to catch you, tripped midway and fell forward at the same time as you impacted him, and you ended up crashing into him midway on his fall, and he fell on his back rather than his front, you atop his chest. 

After you two looked at each other to check the other was okay, the two of you burst out into giggles on the floor.

Rosinante excitedly told you to get dressed (you chose a white summer dress), brought his backpack and led you through the island by the hand, still dressed in his pirate outfit of white trousers, pink shirt and black feather coat, smiling the entire way. You loved the feather coat, and you couldn’t help but comment how he and Doflamingo were now truly “bird brothers”. The look Rosinante gave you at that comment made you laugh for a minute straight, especially when he dramatically pulled off his purple sunglasses to blink at you repeatedly.

You two walked for a while. You told Rosinante about your days, how everyone was very helpful and welcoming, and let him know about the invitation for a barbeque party tomorrow, and Rosinante agreed — he did have to meet the other marines on the island, along with their families. 

Rosinante came to a stop in front of a steep hill. 

“It’s right up this way,” said Rosinante, smiling in that adorable way that made him even more handsome. “I’ll carry you up.”

You gulped.

“Are you sure you can trek this, Rosinante?” you asked, holding some doubts. You’d seen your husband fall down the entire fifty meter flight of stone stairs of Marineford like a bouncing ball many times when you met him, and this hill had plenty of rocky, dirt-covered terrain.

You could already imagine Rosinante rolling down it like a pancake covered in black feathers. Or... Like an ostrich.

This hill and forest looked like something for hikers, and no offense to Rosinante, but he and hiking don’t go hand in hand, so your hesitation was well-founded.

“Yup,” said Rosinante, beaming down at you. “Up you go, mi amor.”

Without much arguing from you — because you’d never refuse being carried bridal style by your favourite man in the world, falling to your death be damned — he perched down, bending his knees to be at your height, and picked you up carefully, one hand under your knees, the other on your back.

It’s comfortable. Rosinante is warm, his long, strong arms cradling you close to his chest like the most precious treasure, and you feel like a princess swathed in the black feathers of his feather coat and his embrace. You close your eyes, resting your head on his chest, on the soft fabric of his pink dress shirt scattered with hearts.

Rosinante started uphill, trekking upon the soil with the confidence of a man who braved deep snow, heavy rain and thick mud many times throughout his life. Large, lush pine trees towered around you, the forest rich with fresh air that mixed with the soft coal scent of your husband. You pass by moss-covered rocks, glimpse squirrels curiously looking down at the giant, lanky blond man from their branches high above, chipping away at pine cones and walnuts in their tiny fingers. Their big brown eyes reminded you of Rosinante’s. After five minutes of Rosinante climbing uphill, the terrain turns flat, and he walks through the thicketed vegetation, the leaves of high bushes and branches brushing across his waist. Sunlight sneaks through the canopy of the trees, touching you and him occasionally, dappling you two in warm light.

“Okay,” said Rosinante. “I’ll put you down now.”

After he puts you down to the ground, Rosinante takes your hand, twining his long fingers between the spaces of yours, and leads you through the maze of greenery, further and further, deeper into the forest, where it becomes more quiet with every step. His long fingers, tucked between yours, holding your hand tight, chase away any anxiety or insecurity you might feel in the new, unknown surrounding.

A high, towering wall of leaves and shrubs conceals your view to whatever lies ahead.

“Close your eyes.”

You chuckle, but do so.

“Wait here,” Rosinante told you. “Don’t open your eyes!”

You laugh. “I won’t.”

You put your free hand over your closed eyes to reassure him of it.

Rosinante’s long fingers — calloused from training, falling and scarred from all the battles he won and survived — slide out of the embrace of yours.

You wait for a few minutes, wondering what sort of surprise he must have for you. You couldn’t hear anything. Rosinante must have used his Devil Fruit so you can’t hear what he’s doing. All you can hope for is that your sweet husband’s ‘surprise’ doesn’t involve anything flammable.

“Okay!” Rosinante chirped behind you, making you shriek and leap at the sudden revelation of his presence, which made him chuckle. “Ready?”

You peek through your fingers to look at him. Rosinante’s smile and excitement is infectious, making you smile to the point your cheeks hurt.

“Yup,” you said.

“Hey!" your husband scolds when he notices your eyes between the tiny space of your fingertips. “No peeking!”

You huff, but relent, covering your eyes fully again.

Rosinante takes your hand, and leads you forward. You keep your eyes closed. Leaves brush over your face, and you feel the warmth of the sunlight on your skin again.

“Okay... Three... Two...”

“One.”

You opened your eyes, gasping at the sight. In front of you and Rosinante was a blooming field of blue forget-me-nots, forming a large circle around the pine forest.

There, among the blue flowers, was a picnic blanket, a picnic basket filled with food atop it.

A giddy smile on his face, pleased with your joy at his successful surprise, Rosinante led you by the hand toward the picnic blanket where all the food awaited.

You two sit down beside each other. You can’t speak; you’re completely speechless.

Rosinante had made you an entire feast; there were rice balls, black bean soup, chocolate cream cakes, muffins with chocolate chips, grilled toast with melted cheese that made your mouth water at the mere sight of it, blackberries and black risotto with chopped cuttlefish meat. 

Rosinante was by no means a lousy cook, in fact, he was quite good at cooking (you were surprised by it the first time, too, especially when he told you he spent a lot of time cooking with Sengoku when he was a kid) but he had to be monitored so he doesn’t set the entire house on fire.

When you opened the container holding the black risotto, hot steam surged out. The black risotto smelled absolutely heavenly. It tasted heavenly, too — it was the perfect amount of ingredients and flavours that you moaned aloud.

Dear gods, Rosinante’s black risotto was to die for. It was one of the meals both you and your husband enjoyed, eating it at a restaurant in Marineford every Friday on your lunch break together even before you’d started dating. The black colouring of the food was due to the squid ink used in the recipe. You both loved it so much that it became your go-to food to make.

Rosinante pulled out a champagne bottle from the basket, further impressing you.

“I snatched this one from Doffy’s liquor cabinet. 1480.” Rosinante smirked smugly, waving the bottle victoriously. “He should’ve drank it while he could.”

You laughed. Rosinante may not talk good things about his brother, but stealing liquor from his brother was a very sibling thing to do. It was clear Rosinante loved pulling pranks on Doflamingo.

While Rosinante said this, removing the golden foil, distractedly unwinding the cage, his eyes focused on you, he forgot to move the bottle away from himself.

The cork launched out of the seal with a loud pop. By some stroke of luck, the cork missed hitting Rosinante’s head, but the golden liquor bursting with bubbles did not. After you heard the satisfying pop, all you could do was stare in shock as champagne sprayed your husband in the face.

His golden waves of hair sogged like a wet dog’s, sparkling liquid running down his cheeks, trailing across his pale neck, sliding down his collarbone and over his chest, staining his wet shirt.

“Rosi!” you cried. “Are you okay?”

Rosinante laughed softly, rich and warm.

“I’m okay,” he replied, looking down at you in that tender, gentle way that filled your heart and made butterflies fly in your stomach.

His long tongue flicked out, licking along his lips, tasting the champagne he spilled. You feel your face flush when you realise you’d looked at his tongue attentively.

“Tastes good,” he said.

You chuckled fondly, watching champagne drip from his golden bangs. “I’m sure it does.”

“Does it smell good?” he asked as you reached for a towel in the basket. You sat between his sprawled, spread out, long legs, brushing off the liquid you could spot.

“Yeah,” you said, chuckling, continuing to pat his face and shirt. It smelled fresh. “It does.”

Rosinante smiled goofily. He gave you your glass, then poured the champagne, and next poured it to himself in his own.

“What do we toast to?” he asked.

“Love and health?” you suggested.

“Love and health!” agreed Rosinante. “Salud!”

“Salud!”

The two of you clinked your champagne glasses together, then drank a few sips of champagne. Rosinante took two large gulps of it instead of humble sips.

When the plastic plates were all cleaned up and the food was gone, stored away in your stomachs, you asked him the question you had since the start of this surprise date, “When did you cook all this?”

“After you fell asleep.” Rosinante’s long arms wrapped around you, a movement he started doing by instinct with how many times he’d done it. You leaned back into him, sinking into his embrace, comfortable between his legs. “The muffins and chocolate cakes are bought. I bought them first thing in the morning, while you were still sleeping.”

You smiled; your husband had always been sneaky, both literally and figuratively.

The blond hung his head sullenly, looking like a sad puppy. He puffed out smoke to the side, mindful not to blow it in your face. “Sorry, my love. I’m no good at baking…”

“It’s the thought that counts,” you said, leaning into his strong body and planting a kiss on his cheek, which made him perk up, a sweet blush painting his cheeks, soon followed by his goofy smile. “And what you did cook is delicious, as were the cakes and muffins you bought.”

“Thank you, Rosinante.” you said, full of joy. “This is beautiful.”

Rosinante chuckled, a charming, gentle, yet deep sound. It made your heart race in your chest. It still didn’t feel real that this wonderful man was yours. The knowledge of it rushed goosebumps up your spine.

To think you’d find a true prince charming in this world. He had come straight down from heaven and accidentally bumped right into you. He was straight out of a fairytale, brown eyes and golden locks of wavy hair tickling his earlobes.

Rosinante looks so pretty, like an angel.

“It’s nothing to thank me for.” Rosinante’s long fingers laced between the spaces of yours, his wedding ring pressing against yours. “You always take care of me. It's my job to take care of you, too, you know. It’s nice to be away from Marineford. I get you all to myself.”

Rosinante’s lips lifted into a sly, flirtatious smile, his eyes lowering to your lips, a hint of hunger flashing in his brown eyes. “And we’re all alone… this place is pretty well hidden.”

You picked up on his meaning and smiled brightly. Your hand slid up his chest, carefully tracing along the hearts on the pink fabric, along his strong, firm shoulder, brushing against his nape, sliding up into the blond, golden curls of his soft hair, running your fingers through it slowly. All the while, Rosinante’s body leaned closer and closer to yours like a magnet of north finding its south, his large hand settling on the middle of your back, pulling you flush to him, towering over you, until all you could see, smell and breathe was him.

“Is that so, commander…” you murmured, meeting his intense gaze with half-lidded eyes.

Rosinante cradled your chin between his thumb and index finger, brought your face up to his, his half-lidded eyes soft and hungry, a charming curve of his lips rendering you breathless. Your breath hitched, staring into his intense gaze — in that moment, you saw the heavenly, commanding intensity inside your husband’s seductive eyes, lighting a fire in your chest. You were being looked at by a real god.

Rosinante kissed you, soft and deep.

“I’m back,” you say to the empty field of blue flowers.

You lay down among the field of the blue forget-me-nots and close your eyes, hoping the flowers will swallow you. Hoping they will enter your lungs, suffocate you, and end you, give you your last, final, living breath. Your tears soak the blue petals of the flowers you and Rosinante used to lay among.

Rosinante used to lie right here beside you, the halo of his blond curly hair shining among the blue blossoms.

Now, there is only the gaping hole of sorrow, a void. An emptiness. You don’t feel anything.

You closed your eyes, clutching Rosinante’s picture tightly between your fingers. You lay there on your side, crying silently among the blue petals where you and your husband once laid together.

No one ever told you that grief feels like fear. You are not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same terrible sinking in the stomach, the same restlessness, the same yawning hole.

It sinks in.

Rosinante isn’t coming home to you.

***

“Excuse me?”

The owner of the flower shop jumped at the deep voice. She turned, and had to look up, and then had to look up more, and then some more, and stared at a handsome man with blond, spiked-up hair, dressed in a red suit with a red tie, sunglasses concealing his eyes.

“Do you know where the Donquixote residence is?” the man asked.

“If you’re looking for Commander Rosinante, he’s away on marine business.”

The stranged blinked - or at least, she assumed he did, by his expression.

“You don’t know?” the exceptionally tall man asked.

“Know what, sir?”

“Rosinante is dead,” the blond man in the red suit delivers the terrible news bluntly, calmly, without any deep emotion, as though he’s telling her about the weather; it reminds her of veteran marines who have seen too much death and have grown used to it. He is staring down at her, into her eyes, with a serious look.

“Oh goodness!” the florist cried, eyes wide. “That poor man... When did it happen?”

“Yesterday evening,” said the blond man blatantly, his voice still calm, his expression still serious. “The news coo hasn’t flown out yet, so only the marines and family know for now. He’ll be in the obituary today or tomorrow.”

“I see... So you’re looking for —”

“His wife,” said the man.

The florist pursed her lips. The man with the unnerving resemblance to Commander Rosinante, despite being devilishly handsome and appearing not to have a single evil bone in his body or hold any malicuious intent, was still a stranger to her.

“Please,” the man with the hair the colour of the yellow primroses says, a desperation in his face. “I’d like to surprise her. Cheer her up. We haven’t seen each other a long time. She shouldn’t be alone.”

The flower shop owner’s heart throbbed at the words and the look of raw pain on the tall man’s face. She had no idea Commander Rosinante had died… and yesterday evening, at that… That was why you’d been wandering around aimlessly, like you were a ghost not meant fo stay in the world. You must have gotten the news… you poor thing.

“Mrs Donquixote lives in a house near the river,” said the shop owner. She pointed to the right end of the cobblestone street. “You take a right there, then a left. It’s a bit farther in the richer district, but that’s the sort of accomodations a Commander and his wife deserve. I can’t believe he's gone… He was such a wonderful man. His son will be devastated.”

The tall man tensed up, flinching.

(In that moment, Donquixote Doflamingo experienced a small heart attack thinking he was an uncle and there was a baby with you — his brother’s baby.)

“...son?” he breathed; his entire tone of voice changing, he sounded shocked and hesitant.

“This little boy. Law, I think. ” The man’s body slumped, as though he was relieved. “He was the sweetest thing. Quiet, but what sick child wouldn’t be? He always clung to Commander Rosinante when I saw them in town. No doubt Commander took him from the battlefield. I suppose he took the boy to the marines to try to find his parents, or to ensign him into the force.”

The blond man’s lips twitched slightly. “I see… Thank you for the help.”

The man turned to leave.

“She likes primroses,” blurted the shop owner. She glanced to the man’s glazed-up hair, and then to the yellow primroses - Mrs Donquixote’s favourite flowers - and was struck dumb.

The sharply dressed man’s blond hair was the exact same colour as the flowers.

“Like your hair, sir.”

“My hair?” asked the man.

The florist nodded. “Yellow primroses.”

The man smiles, and once more, the woman is hit by how similar to Commander Rosinante he looks - so similar he could be his brother! What a strange resemblance!

“Then, a bouquet of yellow primroses, please,” says the man dressed in the merlot suit, handing over a bill of five thousand berri. “And keep the change.”

“Oh, no, no, dear.” she said with a shake of her head, arranging the bouquet of yellow flowers, not taking the offered bill. “You keep your money. Just get her these, all right?”

The man’s mouth opened in a slight ‘o’, and he stared at her in surprise. He looked goofy, and so similar to the same expression Commander Rosinante made when he was shocked or taken by surprise.

However, he nodded, accepting the flowers.

“And... stay by her side.” The florist said. “Don’t let her be alone.”

An emotion crossed the man’s tanned, handsome face; he looked like he was in pain.

The blond man pulls the bouquet of yellow flowers to his chest, his long, puppeteer-like fingers holding them protectively.

“I will,” he promised.

He turned and left in the direction of the Donquixote residence. The florist was unable to keep her eyes off of him. What a sharp-looking, well-dressed man…

And so handsome! Oh, if she was only thirty years younger, she would have definitely asked him for his transponder snail number, or whatever the youth use these days.

***

The moment he was out of the small town, Doflamingo used his strings and flew high into the air, using the same basic of given directions to locate your house.

It didn’t take him long to find the river, and as he approached the flatlands of the island, he saw many houses scattered around. Probably those of families of retired high-ranking marine officers and their families. likely from other high-ranked retired marines and their families.

Doflamingo landed in front of the wooden fence surrounding a garden. A white, two-story house stood down the garden.

Doflamingo saw rows of cabbages beside the dirt path, their green leaves shielding the plant’s head. There was a roofed porch leading to the entrance doors. The garden fence didn’t even reach to his knees. Doflamingo stepped over it.

It looked rather a lot like a farmhouse, but without the farm — Doflamingo would have heaved if there were farm animals around being used for sustenance — and with the garden and yard.

A crow gave a caw. Doflamingo turned to the sound, and nearly cut a human-like silhouette’s head off with his strings.

It was a scarecrow. Not any scarecrow. Doflamingo stood eye-level with it, staring at the shiny red sunglasses, white dress shirt and white capri pants with red flame patterns the scarecrow of hay wore.

Doflamingo’s lips twitched; he felt like laughing, and barely withheld it not to make any noise. It was certainly a likeness.

Corazón must have stolen one of his sunglasses for it.

Chuckling, Doflamingo prowled toward the porch, and stood in front of the entrance doors.

Should he knock?

Doflamingo smiled maliciously, full of menace.

No.

Donquixote Doflamingo, hands in the pockets of his merlot suit pants, kicked down the doors of his sister-in-law’s house.

“Honey, I’m home!” he called.

The only sound in the space lit by the windows letting the light in was the whoosh of the curtains.

“Huh…?”

She isn’t even home to be surprised!

Scoffing in annoyance at his entrance being ruined by not having you witness it, Doflamingo entered through the door frame into the living room lit by natural light coming from the curtains.

“Tch.”

Guess she’s still in town. Did she go to buy groceries for lunch?

“Hm?”

A large picture caught his attention.

Oh.

You’re beautiful.

It was a picture of you, Rosinante, and Law. All of you are smiling at the camera, showing the peace sign. Doflamingo stares at his little brother’s big smile, because it’s the first time he sees it on him, having never seen it on his brother as an adult.

Doflamingo’s mouth forms into a sneer.

Thinking you could have your cake and eat it too, huh, Corazón? You bastard. You liar. You traitor.

Doflamingo exhaled. It didn’t matter anymore. Your husband’s sins were not yours. His brother already paid for his betrayal, and Doflamingo had forgiven him for it. You were a Donquixote by marriage with his brother, therefore, you were under Doflamingo’s protection, and the only real family he had left. As the head of the Donquixote family, since your husband was gone, your care, happiness and health were Doflamingo’s responsibility now. In Mariejois, the head of the family is expected to care for the close family members such as this. Celestial Dragons leave no family behind. If you and Doflamingo were in Holy Land, he would do the same; do anything to provide for you, take you into his home, care for you.

By Celestial traditions and rules of the Holy Land, you belong to Doflamingo now.

Doflamingo frowns. It’s an entire life here, in these pictures. A life Doflamingo never knew about, never asked about. Because he’d trusted his little brother.

A life Doflamingo was completely left out of.

Reading about the Fleet Admiral adopting his brother was one thing, seeing his little brother, dressed in marine cadet garb, shyly looking at the camera with Sengoku’s hand on his shoulder was another. More people started appearing in the pictures as his brother grew, as he got leaner and stronger, as he cut his bangs not to cover his eyes anymore, and eventually, you were in the pictures with his brother, too — it was so unbearably obvious you two were going to be together by the way you two smiled, by the way you held each other, your body languages speaking with the way you leaned toward each other — that when he arrived to the single photo of the two of you in the living room in Water 7 (undoubtedly tyour honeymoon destination), it felt like you and his brother had been married way before he wore his wedding suit and you your wedding dress.

Doflamingo climbed up the stairs towards the bedrooms. He needed to know what sort of clothes you liked to wear.

The master bedroom was large, walls painted sky blue, with a large three meter long bed in the middle, and a large white wardrobe.

Doflamingo scoffed, unimpressed. What a dump of a master bedroom. Is this where the magic was supposed to happen? It wasn’t very magical to Doflamingo. It looked like any plain bedroom in the taverns he stayed in.

Doflamingo walked to the closet, and opened it. There was no walk-in closet here. What a disgrace. This isn't how their mother raised them to treat their spouses.

The clothes in your wardrobe were so ordinary... so plain...

Well, it didn’t matter. Doflamingo was going to buy proper clothes for a beautiful woman like you.

Curiousity got the better of him, and he opened his brother’s wardrobe.

Ten pristinely white marine coats hung from the clothing rack, paired with blue dress shirts.

That was a lot of coats.

Doflamingo let out a snort, shaking his head at his brother’s affliction to set his clothes on fire. Some things never change. Whoever thought giving his little brother a lighter was a good idea must have been a madman.

Donquixote Rosinante, commander of the most deadly assassination and spy unit of the marines, the Crow Corps. Doflamingo had heard about them, but never knew their identities - they were thought not to exist, really. For all his years in the underworld, Doflamingo never encountered them — or maybe he had, and was not aware of it.

The Crow Corps were a myth, a story to scare the sailors with, a marine legend pirates talked about when something went incredibly amiss in intelligence gathering and the underworld.

“Must’ve been the Crow Corps.”

“Beware the Crow Corps, they’re the marines’ eyes and ears; they can hear you through the thickest walls and see you in the darkest shadow.”

Doflamingo would have felt proud of his brother’s achievements if he didn’t see how dim-witted his baby brother really was, throwing all of his hard work away to save Law.

After checking your shirt, dress, skirts, pants and shoe sizes, he also pulled out a few bras to get an insight on your bra size — he needed to know it be able to buy you proper, nice undergarments, not this cotton, wire bullshit — he started scouring boxes in Rosinante’s wardrobe. Maybe he’d find some information on the marines there, a blueprint, a floor plan, sailing routes, anything really. Instead, all he found was Rosinante’s official documents, and the copy of the marriage contract. You two had even gotten a house in Marineford free of charge. He was surprised how well the marines took care of their families, but it wasn’t new. Better to encourage families and support them so they give you more little marines to train and send out to get killed in battle.

Doflamingo took your personal documents from your nightstand’s drawer. You’d need those with him. Registrating your identity again would be a risk — he didn’t plan on letting you off the ship the first two weeks, little less to risk taking you to a registration office for you to get your identity card again. Putting them into his pocket, he also folded the only single good file of clothing that fit his standards — a beautiful light blue silk dress — and put that into the pocket of his feather coat, too.

With that done, he left the master bedroom, and headed back downstairs into the open living room and kitchen, and started scouring through the drawers in the living room, too. He paused when he found a video snail, with writing on its shell.

Our Wedding

Footage. Of his little brother’s wedding.

Doflamingo took the snail from the shelf, pulled down the projector screen on the wall opposite of the large white couch, and set up the snail. He sat down on the couch and turned the snail on.

The first thing he saw was the man standing beside his brother as his brother’s best man.

That was the crazy zoan shithead that attacked him ten years ago.

Doflamingo clenched his teeth, his chest inflated as he inhaled in fury. The blood vessels on his forehead exposed themselves, throbbing along with his rage. He wanted to break something.

That one? That half-Lunarian scum was Rosi’s best man instead of Doflamingo?

It seemed Rosinante had abandoned him as a brother way before he tried to destroy his life.

But Doflamingo had never abandoned Rosinante. He’d trusted him. He’d loved him. Rosinante was his precious, sweet little brother, the one he trusted the most in the entire world, the one person nobody — nobody — was allowed to hurt. And what did Doflamingo get for trusting him, for protecting him, for loving him, because who else if not his brother by blood, who else if not his equal, his fellow god?

All his plans nearly ruined, Law fleeing after eating the Op-Op Fruit, and his little brother pointing a gun at him.

In the end, after all that, after screwing everything up, aware of what he’d done, how he’d betrayed him... Rosinante didn’t even have the guts to do it to the end and pull the fucking trigger.

Doflamingo returned his attention to the projection on the wall.

His brother was dressed in the usual wedding marine outfit; soft light blue suit, light blue waistcoat, white dress shirt and light blue tie with floral prints of small forget-me-not flowers.

However, Doflamingo found his eyes pasted to you, staring at you intensely, taking in your wedding dress. It complimented your figure, hugging your delicate curves, with an open back, off-shoulder, with flower-patterned lace sleeves. The off-shoulder dress revealed your delicate collarbone and shoulders, temptation in white lace.

What a beauty you were.

Doflamingo was impressed. His brother cleaned up well. No wonder you were all over him — his brother finally dressed as was proper for his godly status. If only his brother dressed like that all the time, and not like a clown…

“Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!” the cheering of the guests filled the room.

Doflamingo could tell by the way your eyes looked at his brother. You loved his brother deeply.

Rosinante leaned down, and you met him half-way, hugging him around the waist happily — oh yes, you very much loved his brother, thought Doflamingo, amused — and the two of you shared another kiss as newlyweds.

Applause and cheers erupted. More confetti rained down on Corazón and you, a few scraps of it landing on your heads, strewn over his brother’s golden hair.

It didn’t escape Doflamingo’s notice how close Corazón held you to himself, and kissed you again, more passionate and deeper this time, making the crowd cheer and whistle.

Doflamingo chuckled. Who knew his quiet, sweet little brother was so passionate and possessive with his wife… he sure liked playing the good marine boy, but he was certainly a greedy, selfish man.

Just like Doflamingo.

Doflamingo heard a whistle from behind the video snail, “Leave some for the honeymoon, Rosi!”

“Oh, shut up, Wulf. Gimme that!”

His brother’s face entered the frame, his light brown eyes looking at the recorder snail, blinking. Doflamingo blinked back, staring at his brother who was without his make-up and beanie.

Rosi.

“Why’re you taking pictures?”

“It’s a video snail, Rosi.”

“Oh!”

“Hiiii!” said Rosinante, waving at the snail’s eyes, smiling wide and bright like the sun, golden and white, truly like a god. “We just got married!”

Doflamingo stared at the screen, watching his little brother smiling and waving at him.

You laughed, and Doflamingo felt his breath hitch at the sweet, gentle sound, staring at your smile; it was like an angel smiling.

“Well,” murmured Doflamingo, lounging back on the large white couch, staring at you; you looked beautiful in that wedding dress, like an angel. How on earth his brother held himself back from taking you and ripping your dress off your body was anyone’s guess. “You got something right.” The pirate smiled darkly. “What a pretty thing your wife is, fufufufu!”

“What are you doing, recording all the time? Hibou is stealing your ladies, you know.”

“Not that I mind!” came another man’s voice.

“I’m putting my flirty boy hat down for tonight!” announced Wulf determinantly. “I’m your best man, it’s my duty to record everything!”

“Isn’t that the photographer’s job?” asked Rosinante.

“Not when you promise the photographer a piece of this,” said Wulf with a grin, touching his body clad in the sky blue suit from the waist up to his white slicked-back hair, giving the snail a flirtatious wink, “in exchange for him giving you the video snail.”

“Wulf…”

“What? You two aren’t the only ones fucking at the end of the night!”

Rosinante’s face turned a deep pink, while you chuckled.

Doflamingo skipped forward, past the procession and the feast, and over the speeches. He stopped to watch the couple’s first dance.

Rosinante took you by the hand and led you onto the podium of leaves. The band started playing a slow, romantic song mainly focused on piano and violin. Rosinante pulled you close (with surprising elegance Doflamingo never thought him capable of, clumsy as his brother was) and pulled you into a slow waltz. For long minutes, you two danced, spinning and swaying, blue and white blending together perfectly, like the sky and the clouds.

The music continued, and Doflamingo watched you rest your head on his brother's shoulder when he bent down, resting his forehead against your temple, kissing your hair. You pulled your head up from his brother's shoulder, and that sweet look would have made Doflamingo bend down and kiss you. Instead of doing that, Rosinante laid his forehead against yours, and as you two swayed together to the slow music, staring into each other's eyes, your lips moved, forming words Doflamingo couldn't hear from the music. Rosinante smiled gently at you, his lips moving, making the same shape of words as yours did.

The music muted it, but Doflamingo could tell. He knew the shape Rosi’s lips formed, what words they whispered to you, pressed together with you as his brother was, the two of you like swans entangled in each other’s wings.

“I love you.”

Getting hungry — and wanting snacks to watch the show — Doflamingo headed to the kitchen to get some beer and chips.

Doflamingo paused in the dining room, his eyes catching onto the plate on the dinner table. It was a plate with a tower of pancakes, covered in chocolate syrup. Were you expecting someone? A marine guard to take you away from the island and to Marineford for the funeral?

Well…

Doflamingo grinned.

Finders keepers.

He snatched one and devoured it in one bite.

The chocolate syrup and chocolate filling inside created a wonderful flavour in his mouth.

Delicious.

Doflamingo grabbed the next pancake, feeling absolutely no shame in eating the pancakes you made for someone else.

As Doflamingo eats the full plate of pancakes, he walks around, surveying the pictures of you and his brother atop the fireplace. There is a large, binded book, and after cleaning his gloves from chocolate and sugar with a napkin, Doflamingo picks it up.

It’s a photo album. He grins. Bingo.

Doflamingo gets himself comfortable on the white couch, puts the flowers and the plate of pancakes on each thigh, opens up the photo album, grabs another pancake from the plate and looks through the pictures of you and his brother as he waits for you to come home.

***

Whenever you had nightmares, Rosinante used to say, “As long as I’m here, no one can hurt you.”

Those words feel empty and meaningless now. Rosi is gone. He can’t protect you anymore, no matter how much you wish he would.

You open the doors of the house, enter, and close them behind you, locking them from the inside.

It takes you a moment, but you notice it.

There is something in the darkness.

A tall, shadowy figure of a man, hunched over, long spine bent, his long, lanky legs crossed over each other, and…

The darkness outlined the silhouette of dark feathers of a massive coat upon his broad shoulders, covering his back.

Hope blooms within you.

“Rosi?”

A sinister, deep, wicked laugh resounded in the darkness, breaking through the silence. The malice within it sunk your gut, shivering your bones with fear; you felt like you were going to be sick. It sounded like evil incarnate.

That isn’t Rosi’s voice. That isn’t Rosi’s laugh. Rosi never laughed like that – ever.

You didn’t know how you managed to flick the light switch on to see which madman it was, but you did.

The first thing you saw when light illuminated the living room was…

Red — merlot red.

For a moment, the colour blinds you. Your focus returns, and you make out what the merlot red is. It’s a tailored, merlot double-breasted suit jacket with golden buttons with a black dress shirt tucked underneath it, a crimson tie tucked neatly in the collar, all of it paired with merlot suit pants.

A man was here. It wasn’t Rosinante.

Golden rings dangled from his tanned earlobes, their shiny reflection lost in the dark shadows of your home, their glitter extinguished. He had a long neck, similar to a flamingo’s, thick and muscular. White-framed sunglasses obscured his eyes. Their tinted, reflective lenses coloured like a bloody sunset stared right back at you, coated crimson in the darkness.

A wide, crescent-shaped, demonic smile bloomed on his face, stretching ear-to-ear, baring all of his white teeth.

That smile froze the blood in your veins.

Your husband’s older brother, Donquixote Doflamingo lounged on the white couch, legs spread wide on each side, grinning at you.

****

Let's say Doflamingo fixed the doors he kicked down, bcs... He wanted that element of surprise. This fic (this chapter particularly) has been in the works for a long time, I just wanted to share it already. If there are any missing scenes connecting between paragraphs - no there aren't. Actually, I appreciate if you guys say to me if there are. There are so many times I can proof read 11.7k words before my brain explodes. Some notes for the chapter and references.

Reader howling to the sky in mourning after finding out about Rosinante's death - for imagination purposes, it's literally Luffy screaming after Ace dies. It was a direct reference to it, and that's how I imagined Reader looking - same expression as Luffy.

The "Rosinante is dead." Doflamingo delivered the news the same way Luffy said "Ace is dead." to Tama in Wano.

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @moonbaby26 @daydreamer-in-training @queenmimi2817 @dummyduck44 @pinejayy @tellynojelly @capycapy-bara @dilf-destroyer-04 @yataidiot @orioncipher @isebauwolf @r-amenegg @skullfacedlady

[eeboyysworld]

Hello! Hope you're having a nice day. If you're taking requests, could i ask for Dae-Ho x male reader? Thank you! :)

“ I know you wanna kiss me-“

—⋆. 𐙚⋆.˚

Genre: Smut

Kang Dae-ho X Male!Reader

Cautions/Warnings: Praise kink, Enemies to (not) lovers, Teasing, Hair pulling, hand job, Dae-ho pops a boner and you’re the most decent person to help.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Pain swirled inside your ankle, a purple mark forming there. You just had to twist it , didn’t you.

the previous game left a huge mark on you, a large turning compartment in the middle of the room.

Mingle, that’s what it was called.

People fighting for their life’s, shoving and pushing innocent (or not) people into the ground, that includes you. Getting slammed to the hard ground froze you on the spot, the pain coming in waves.

You would had died. If it wasn’t for the man , whom you had bothered the past days of being in this hell hole, saved you.

Getting out of his own way to drag your limp body into the blood covered room.

Dae-ho, Cheery despite the situation, cracking jokes but remains serious when needed. You didn’t know him outside these games, but being divided into two groups, ‘x and o’ , you had no choice but to dislike them.

You voted to stay inside the games, the debt and reality of the outside world crashing down on you. It was stupid , voting for your own death.

You had every reason to thank him endlessly for giving you another chance at life, bowing towards him.

Despite the brawls the two of you got in, he shook the past aside , reassuring that ‘you would do the same for him.’

———

The bed you resided on was comfortable enough to rest on, the metal underneath the thin material digging into you.

The state your foot was left in wasn’t half bad , considering it had been a couple hours since then.

The bruise still contrast to your skin.

Rice mushing around your mouth, the flavour dull as you could taste the fork more than the food.

Swashing it down with a bottle of milk.

Your bottom became sore after sitting on it for the past hours , during the time passing you had been accept into this little group.

Diverse people combined into one alliance, to stop the games. The new faces marking a memory in your head.

A few of them offering their bread and milk towards you and another young girl.

Flustered under their gazes, smiling accepting the offer with a thanks.

Sluggishly nibbling the crust, zoning in and out of conversations. You tried your best to not get attached to them, dreadfully knowing sooner or later you’ll all die.

Despite the Traumatic scenes that unfolded Infront of all of you, one person lifted the mood.

The smiling marine kept making advances towards you, keeping you company.It was sweet, the two of you talking about the past and hopes for whatever future you could get.

Guilt crept at you, apologizing for the harm you caused.

“This place can make a person crazy.” Patting your upper thigh as he spoke,” I don’t blame you, we were on different sides only trying to survive.” His gaze felt heavy, lowering your own head, attention drifting to the ,used to be, white shoes.

“If I could..” stammering the words out,” In any way- I would repay you.” Your leg involuntary bouncing.

He paid no response, staring off into the distance, eyes glinting with uncertainty.

The silence between you guys hadn’t flatter, even with the voices and shouts in the background.

You guys sat like that until an announcement rang, lights dimming as the hallway lights shined through, casting a glow just enough to navigate.

Having the need to stay up, you accepted the challenge of fighting sleep to keep watch. Nestling yourself in between two bunk beds.

The night rolling on , countless snores and conversations could be heard.

An hour in of keeping guard, flinching when a hand slapped your shoulder, suddenly becoming aware of your surroundings.

Dramatically exhaling as the familiar face appeared before you. “Ah..you scared me.”

A nervous chuckle left him, slotting himself beside you. He felt off, energy leeching off of him.

You had notice the way he slumped, eyes twitching to get a glimpse of you, fingers digging into his pants.

Neither of you spoke, stealing ‘risky’ glances towards each other. It went on like that , before he finally got the courage to voice his thoughts.

“I .. have a problem..” concern adorned you, had he been hurt last game? , whispering your question.

Getting a shake of a head left you wondering what happened. “I was just thinking..you were the only one who could help.”

Biting his lip, gulping as he muttered.

Barely hearing it, kindly asking him to speak up a bit.

Locking his eyes onto you, “ It’s.. uhm-“ cutting himself off, licking his lips as a habit.

Letting the quietness settle before speaking, “ D-down..theree.” Dragging the ‘e’ to a halt.

Huh.. taking a peak downwards, curiosity getting the better of you. Eyes slightly widening, catching the bulge between his legs. Wow.

Now..what would a rational person do in this situation. Kindly turn down the offer. But you were not rational.

Turning your body to the side, bringing your gaze to his face, making eye contact.

It had suddenly become too hot in this place. Feeling your face tingling from his attention.

“Oh..” there was practically butterflies swooning inside you, he wants you to help him.

He was quick to apologize for making you uncomfortable, steadily getting up, bowing towards you. He knew he shouldn’t have asked..

But before he could get away , a hand grabbed onto his loose shirt, pulling the other closer to you.

The feeling of arousal pooling inside you, whispering so that no one but you two could hear.

“I would love to help you.” Was it the fact you pitted him for popping a boner out of all places, maybe , he was rather cute, a perfect face to be ruined by you.

He was shocked to say the least, trying to regain composure only to be pushed to the bed farthest away.

You kept on your feet , despite just recovering from the injury you endured,while he was seated.

Greedy hands exploring his body, flushed face inches away from you. He was so close to your lips he can feel your breath.

It was awkward in the moment, as he never was this close to you, he shyly thanked you for doing this for him.

You could only smile, the soft lights shining both of you, silhouettes dancing on the walls.

muttering , “I told you I would repay you..” eyes wandering across his face, noticing every detail you could drink up.

Becoming shy under such gaze, the other melted into the comfort of the bed.

Trailing your hands downwards, ruffling the stained tracksuit. Your body moving with your hands, dropping to your knees.

The soft thud bouncing off the arena, the rough floor digging into the your flesh.

He was like jelly under your touch, folding as skilled hands gripped his waist, every touch riling him up more.

Breathe fawning his clothed bulge, it was like you were examining him. He peered at you, mouth agape.

He nearly yelped as you lunged frontwards, throwing his palm to silence the sounds.

You sat there knees spread slightly aprat, mouthing the fabric, saliva seeping through the material, the warm wetness lubricating himself.

His other hand shakily made its way to your head, softly resting on the head of hair. You didn’t want it just sitting there.

Roughly grabbing his fingers to thread the locks, swapping your tongue out to cause a reaction out of him, the sensation made his fingers grip.

Muffled apologies hidden behind his palm, neck tense from how he contained himself.

You continued to torment the poor guy, keeping his junk in his pants. He was frustrated and sensitive to the touch.

Mouth kept working towards him, pants dark from the amount of spit on it, outlining his length.

He couldn’t even do anything about it, he couldn’t scream and beg you to touch him, that would end bad.

Left to squirm and whine in his seat.

After you felt decent about your work, pulling yourself away, admiring him.

“Try to be quiet, ay?” It was a statement, you couldn’t have him moaning into the air, not when you knew the other people now.

Shoving your hand into the tracksuit, slipping through the others boxers,

Feeling the pre-cum drip down along with your spit, creating the perfect natural lube.

Steadily dragging downwards and up, purring sweet nothings, “ Aw, hold on a little longer..” slipping up and down, fastening the pace. “You’re doing so good for me.”

Your words went straight to his head, not the one on-top his shoulders.

The hand he chose to mouth on had a red mark, the other settled into your locks of hair, tightening and letting loose.

Sounds of desperation could be heard if someone listened too intently.

It was too much , the soft padding of your hand left him a mess. You kept reducing the speed before fastening it up, the stimulation was overbearing.

Finger playing with his angry tip, the touch as light as a feather, yet it had him stuttering. “Mm- m-more..”

He was heavy in your hand, was practically throbbing.

“ You deserve it ..don’t you?” You were playing with him, watching the desperate head nods.

Continuing to stoke him, leading him to Chase his high , thrusting into your hand.

Bed ever so slightly squeaking with the weight of his body moving up and down.

You let him rut into you like a dog, his hair tie loosening up, hair pieces flowing out.

You let him rock his hips in your hold, only choosing to add pressure back and forth.

Dick twitching, incoherent words stammering into the air. “Please.. I’m so c-close..”

Taking pity, you began to move with him, lining the timing perfectly.

He basically humped your hand, gripping your hair , moving you along with him. Letting him to use your body.

His stomach held a pit that kept growing, throwing his head backwards, biting his hand to keep silent.

The body movement he made told you he was close, moving your hand the fastest you can, the sounds encouraging you onward.

He spoke your name like a prayer, face flushed with the amount of heat he felt, the urge to just say fuck it and throw you onto the bed.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t wanna do that, despite all the people. Images flashed through him, he didn’t think he could imagine such things.

Your mouth on him as he fucked your face, he would be the one setting the pace, not you.

He could feel himself twitch.

Breathe ragged as he let himself spill into you, pulsing in your hand, body becoming limp in the hold.

Sitting there before slowly moving, long breaths leaving him.

The feeling of your hand leaving, taking the warmth with you. He whimpered from lost of contact like a kicked puppy.

Instead of wiping the evidence away, you decided to lick at it, swirling the liquid away into your warm mouth.

He was left agape , eyes focused on the way your tongue came out to lap it up, head tilted towards him, fluttering your eyes at him.

That’s one way to get rid of it.

The saltiness was bittersweet.

Latching off with a pop, moving to your feet, legs sore from sitting down. Guiding the other into you, lips finding his.

Nipping at him, slotting your tongue inside , letting the taste of bitterness sweep all over.

Moans vibrated through the both of you, hands finding what it can to ground into.

A shout had you yanking away, fearing you had hurt the other man.

“I didn’t see anything.” Slowly turning to the side, making eye contact you didn’t want to make with the most nonchalant man you ever met.

Greeting him with a ,”Good morning Young-il..”

You didn’t expect that scream to lead to that face.

———

I did not finish this when i said i would ❤️

[yushuolighting]

The Influence of Lamp Body Material on Marine Deck Lights

Marine deck lights are crucial for vessel navigation and operations. The choice of lamp housing material significantly affects their performance, lifespan, and reliability. Different materials vary in corrosion resistance, mechanical strength, thermal conductivity, optical performance, and maintenance costs. Here's an analysis of several common lamp housing materials:

Aluminum Alloy

Advantages

Disadvantages

Stainless Steel

Advantages

Disadvantages

Engineering Plastics

Advantages

Disadvantages

Composite Materials

Advantages

Disadvantages

Conclusion

Different lamp housing materials have their own advantages and limitations. Aluminum alloy and stainless steel are suitable for mid-to-high-end vessels requiring strength and corrosion resistance but are costly. Engineering plastics offer advantages in mid-to-low-end markets with their lightweight and cost-effectiveness but have lower strength and thermal conductivity. Composite materials excel in strength, lightweight, and multifunctional integration but are expensive and hard to repair. Material selection should be based on vessel type, purpose, environment, and budget to ensure deck light performance and reliability. As material science advances, new lamp housing materials will continue to enhance marine deck light performance.

[fanaticsnail]

Snail Navigation Masterlist

Hello and welcome, I'm Snail!

I write mainly for the One-Piece fandom, all catalogued below the cut in a series of individual masterlists. Some of my work is NSFW, meant for 18+, so please minors do not interact with my content.

It is an absolute pleasure carving out worlds that you get to be placed in the middle of. This page is specifically to be positive and enjoy sharing creativity. I hope you enjoy your time spent with me!

Tobiuo: My One Piece Original Character: Heart Pirate Security Chief, 7'2 Fishwoman.

Commissions: Closed.

Request: Temporarily closed.

Gift Swapping: Temporarily closed.

Pirate Snail: Gift by @/remisloves @/torao-chan. I love this snail, and I love the beautiful person who made it for me.

Divider Links: waves, 18+ by @/firefly-graphics

I have divided up my large collection of fics and drabbles into their own categories. Each fic has a description within their own Masterlist, including content warnings should minors be present. I hope you enjoy your time exploring my writing, and happy reading!

Straw-Hat Masterlist

Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Brook, & platonic crew

Heart-Pirate Masterlist

Law, Shachi, Penguin, & platonic crew

Kid-Pirate Masterlist

Kid, Killer, Heat, Wire, & platonic crew

Red-Hair Pirate Masterlist

Shanks, Beckman

Donquixote Masterlist

Doflamingo, Rosinante / Corazon, Caesar Clown

Cross-Guild Masterlist

Sir Crocodile, Dracule Mihawk, Buggy

Misc & Marines Masterlist

Koby, Helmeppo, Sabo, Kuzan, Bogard, Garp, Marco, Zeff, X Drake

Giants Masterlist

Katakuri, King, Loki (Elbaf)

Drabbles Masterlist

Shorter fics for light reading

Original Characters Masterlist

Content includes OC x OC, OC x Canon, and OC x Reader content within. This is with my original characters, and others' OCs with permission to create for them. All NSFW fics marked accordingly.

Multi-Character Series

Dance Series Masterlist

A series of one-shots where you, the reader, get to dance with your favourites. Written with a f!reader in mind, but can be read gn.

The Kissing Booth

A selection of kisses with you as the blindfolded recipient.

Yandere Masterlist

To love so much it makes you sick with blind devotion and intense infatuation. Sweet, caring, and innocent before switching into someone who displays an extreme, often violent or psychotic, level of devotion to a love interest. You are that special person, and they will stop at nothing to make you theirs, and keep you close.

Pollen Masterlist (NSFW 18+)

Dust from the lust-plant burrows into the lungs of all that inhale it, prompting desperate and primal urges to eclipse their natural senses. All that inhale the pollen need aid in navigating through their urges, some urges stronger than others.

Dreaming of You Masterlist (NSFW 18+)

They couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in their dreams. The way they had you wrapped around their body as a marionette in their minds, dancing for them as they awoke to sticky blankets when they jolted upright. Their thoughts got the better of them, and they are wracked with guilt. NSFW, mdni, 18+

2024 Birthday Event (NSFW 18+)

A variety of kinks explored with a multitude of different readers (gn, afab, amab, F, M) all explicit and incredibly NSFW with a few favourite characters.

Drawing Masterlist: One Piece Original Characters

Art with my fics: short dialogue

Fic Inspo: mood boards, clips and prompts for all to use.

Ko-Fi: If you feel so inclined to support me as I keep creating works, this is a link to enable that should you so desire.

Side blog: @sultrysnail for content away from One Piece

[yuutawe]

UNDER THE WATER. } yuta okkotsu . . .

ꖛ summary * an aquarium date with your nerdy boyfriend.

ꖛ warnings! * fluff + sfw‎ ‎ ‎ ‎college au, photographer yuta‎‎ ‎!‎ ‎ ‎ he's a nerd over marine animals, and you love it !‎ ‎ ‎ a lot of stupid facts about jellyfish !‎ ‎ ‎ ‎yuta is 20, reader is 21 in this (although nothing happens) !‎ ‎NOT PROOFREAD.

ꖛ about. * reader is gender-neutral. no anatomy specified + they/them pronouns and genderless nicknames.

ꖛ author's note * this feels really rushed but sighhhhh. just had the idea and wanted to write it down. i hope it's not bad for a first post here. english is not my first language, so i apologize for any mistakes.

ꖛ word count ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 899.

some say that love at first sight is nonsense, but yuta and you have a beautiful variation of this cliché: love at first click. you can still remember his surprised expression when he took the first picture of you. it was simple, an okay request. he needed a model to sit on campus to test the new camera. and then click. one photo became three, and he complimented your physique a lot.

nervous stuttering of calling you photogenic evolved into asking you to be his model more often — until you took the first step to ask for his number. and a year later, you two stand strong: walking down the aquarium while holding hands.

“oh, yeah— and jellyfish have no brains, hearts, or lungs! they’re very simple organisms, actually.” yuta rambles, pointing to one of the little creatures in question, which simply swims without thinking about much. it is surprising that apparently such thin glass can support such a large amount of water.

you nod slowly, hearing every word with the utmost attention, because, really, how could you not? he's usually so shy and speaks so little around other people, but at home or with you, he can just talk about his extremely nerdy interests. it was one of the things that brought you two closer, in fact. (although, it would have been better if he flirted back instead of rambling about the structure of a camera that one day…)

“so, how are they built like?” you ask, already knowing (superficially) that jellyfishes don’t actually have any of these organs. you just want to hear that gentle, smooth voice with a hint of excitement break it down to you.

yuta smiles so widely, as if he couldn't be happier that you asked. so cute, you think.

“okay, okay. think about it.” he lets go of your hand for the smallest of moments, to gesture as he explains — pouting for a second. but it is for the greater good of getting you to understand the biology of jellyfish. “their bodies are made up of just three layers— the outer epidermis, a gelatinous middle layer called the mesoglea, and the inner gastrodermis.”

again, you nod along to his explanation — even if now you're more focused on the cute way his fingers move to draw the patterns in the air more than the words themselves. but you can't resist the opportunity to make a joke.

“layers? like onions?”

“no, love, not like onions—” he sighs, almost sounding disappointed by your comparison. he pouts like a bunny about to throw a tantrum and stomp the ground furiously. you can't help but laugh at the way his lips curve, and you grab his wrist for an apology.

you bring his hand up to your mouth, kissing the back of it slightly. it always makes him red in the face, and he cups your cheek softly, trying to keep you close.

“okay, not like onions. got it.”

yuta huffs slightly — murmuring something about accepting your mistakes — before he goes back to rambling. however, now you are lost in thought.  jellyfish have an elementary nervous system with receptors that detect light, vibrations, and chemicals in the water. Along with the ability to sense gravity, these capabilities allow the jellyfish to navigate... it all goes over your head as you think: how did you two get here? from small texts and giggles, to letters and home dates. to stargazing to kissing, and so much more—

“love?” he asks, more worried than upset. “you’re silent. are you alright?” yuta is quick to reach for your hand again, his dark blue eyes reminding you that he is prettier than the ocean. soft, gentle and warming as a bonfire, but calm and fluid as the water.

“yes. just thinking about how much i like hearing you talk about stupid fish.”

he gasps dramatically, pretending to be offended. “just for you to know, despite the name, jellyfish are actually cnidarians, which are a type of invertebrate—”

before he can ramble any longer, your fingers detach from his, and both of your gentle hands come up to grab him by the cheeks. yuta would protest, but soon your lips are glued to his, and his brain melts.

all information about any kind of marine animal just disappears, and you are all that is left on his mind. the taste of your lips, the smoothness of your hands, the prettiness of your eyes. you, you, you.

you lean back, giving him that little smirk that tells the poor man you know exactly what you just did. you threw him off his feet.

“what were you saying, yuta? about— cnidarians?”

“i—” he sighs, smiling softly and muttering a what am i going to do with you under his breath. “i don’t actually remember.”

you chuckle, kissing his cheek and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. yuta bumps his nose against yours gently, and you hear someone complaining about young couples nowadays have no shame.

“what do you want to see next?” he asks lovingly.

“let’s take a look at puffer fish.” you mutter back, giving a small peck to his lips before pulling away. he smiles excitedly, going back to his rambles.

“oh, did you know that adult puffer fish have just four teeth, fused together into one strong beak? they use this to open clams or mussels, and scrape algae off rock—”

© made by spiralryomen on tumblr. do not copy, repost, translate my works in this or any other side — inspirations allowed with credits.

[latanyalove]

My Goal

Summary: Sanji's goal after finding the All Blue was you. Who knew you were harder than his main goal.

Song: House Of Balloons / Glass Table Girls by The Weeknd

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

In the sweltering kitchen of the Thousand Sunny, Sanji's eyes never failed to wander from the sizzling pans to the sultry sway of your hips as you navigated the cramped quarters with a grace that seemed to mock the chaos of a pirate ship.

His flirtations were as relentless as the sea, each one a tiny wave that crashed against the shore of your indifference. The first time he'd tried, you'd been chopping vegetables, your eyes focused solely on the task at hand.

He sailed in with a compliment, smoother than the whiskey he'd once pilfered from a Marines' ship.

"Your knife skills are sharper than my wit," he'd quipped, a rakish smile playing on his lips.

You, however, remained unfazed, not even bothering to look up from your cutting board. "And your wit is as dull as a marlin's," you replied, the blade of your knife glinting in the dim light as you sliced through a particularly tough piece of meat.

Sanji's smile had faltered, but only for a moment.

The second rejection came as you were both navigating the treacherous waters of a storm. Sanji had grabbed the ropes with a dramatic flair, muscles bulging beneath his wet shirt, and shouted to the heavens about his love for the sea and all its mysteries.

He'd glanced at you, expecting some form of admiration, perhaps even a blush to color your cheeks.

Instead, you'd rolled your eyes, your water manipulation devil fruit keeping you as dry as a bone, and said, "If you're going to be so dramatic, maybe you should join a theater troupe instead of a pirate crew."

He'd stumbled over his words, the rain beating a hasty retreat from his flustered face. Yet, his determination was as unyielding as the storm itself.

The third attempt was during a rare moment of respite on a tranquil island. As you lay on the beach, soaking in the sun, Sanji approached with a coconut drink, the straw adorned with a tiny paper parasol.

"For the most enchanting mermaid I've ever laid eyes on," he'd purred, leaning over you with a hopeful gaze.

With a sigh, you'd taken the drink, sipped it slowly, and said, "Thanks, but I prefer my beverages without a side of desperation."

His cheeks had reddened, but he hadn't moved, his hand hovering awkwardly in the air where the coconut had been.

The fourth rejection came as you both scaled the rigging to unfurl the sails. Sanji had tried to be suave, calling you "my lady of the sea," his voice carrying over the wind. You'd laughed, the sound as cool as the ocean breeze that whipped through your hair.

"Save it for someone who's actually impressed by your cheesy lines," you said, reaching for the rope with a deftness that belied your strength.

Each rejection was met with a different reaction from Sanji. Sometimes, he'd feign indifference, other times he'd laugh it off, and once he'd even pouted like a scolded child.

But the fifth time… ah, the fifth time was different.

It was as if the stars had aligned, the sea had whispered a secret into your ear, and you found yourself in a peculiar mood.

The sun had set, casting a warm glow on the ship's wooden deck. You'd been lost in thought, the gentle rocking of the waves lulling you into a sense of peace.

Sanji had approached you, his usual flirtatious grin replaced by a tentative smile.

"I know I've said this before," he began, his voice low and earnest, "but you truly are the most captivating person I've ever met."

For a moment, something in your chest fluttered like a trapped bird, and your eyes met his with a softness that surprised you both. The air between you thickened, charged with a tension that hadn't been there before.

And then, with a smirk that held a hint of mischief, you leaned in close and whispered, "Alright, you win this round, Prince."

And so, it was in that moment of unexpected surrender that Sanji's heart skipped a beat, his eyes widening with a mix of disbelief and excitement.

His hand, which had been resting casually on the railing, reached for yours, his fingertips brushing against your skin with the gentleness of a butterfly's wings.

The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, a sensation that was as foreign to you as the concept of mercy in a pirate's world.

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your cheek as he whispered, "I promise to make you feel like the most cherished treasure in all the Grand Line."

His words, though spoken softly, carried the weight of a thousand unsaid confessions and the promise of a passion that had been burning for eons.

You felt your resolve crumble like the sand beneath the relentless waves of his charm, and with a smoldering gaze, you allowed him to pull you into an embrace that was as fiery as the sunsets you'd seen together.

As your bodies melded together, the ship's timbers seemed to groan in approval, the very air around you crackling with the electricity of your newfound connection.

Sanji's hands roamed your curves with a reverence that spoke of his longing, each caress leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Your heart raced in your chest, pounding in time with the rhythm of the waves, and you found yourself responding to his advances with a fervor that shocked even you.

Your lips met in a kiss that was as deep and vast as the ocean itself, a silent declaration of the tumultuous emotions that had been brewing beneath the surface for so long.

The saltwater of the sea kissed your skin as the two of you tumbled onto the deck, the planks groaning beneath your weight as you gave in to the tempest of desire that had been building for what felt like an eternity.

Sanji's mouth traveled from your lips to the sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing the soft flesh there as he nipped and sucked, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, your hands tangling in his hair as you sought to deepen the kiss.

The taste of him was like nothing you had ever experienced, a heady blend of sweat, sea salt, and a hint of the spices that were his culinary trademark.

Your bodies moved in a dance as ancient as the tides, each touch and caress a silent promise of what was to come. Sanji's hands slipped beneath your shirt, his calloused thumbs tracing the delicate line of your collarbone, sending shivers through your body.

Your own hands roamed his broad chest, feeling the heat of his skin and the steady thump of his heart, a drumbeat to the symphony of your growing need.

The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the tempest of passion that had been brewing for so long. The gentle rocking of the Thousand Sunny became the rhythm to which your bodies swayed, a metronome to the crescendo of your desire.

Sanji's kisses grew more insistent, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he pulled away to gaze into your eyes, the hunger in his gaze mirroring the ache in your core.

With a groan that was as primal as the sea, he lifted you into his arms and carried you below deck, the urgency in his movements belying the tenderness of his touch.

The door to your cabin slammed shut, the sound echoing through the corridor, leaving no doubt as to the intention of the pirate chef. He laid you down on your bed, the soft mattress enveloping you like a gentle embrace from Neptune himself.

The scent of the ocean and the faint hint of his cologne filled the small space, mingling with the heady aroma of your own desire.

Sanji's kisses grew more demanding as he traced a path down your neck, his teeth and tongue leaving a trail of fire that ignited every nerve ending.

His hands, once so gentle, grew bolder, exploring the curves of your body with a hunger that seemed insatiable. You felt your own hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin against yours.

As the fabric fell away, you gasped at the sight of his sculpted chest, the muscles rippling like the waves you both knew so well.

Your fingers danced over his abs, tracing the lines of his taut muscles as if mapping the treacherous waters of the Grand Line. He groaned, the sound vibrating through you, sending a wave of need crashing through your body.

His hands found their way to the ties of your pants, deftly untying the knots with the same skill he used to navigate the ship. As the fabric fell away, you were laid bare before him, vulnerable as a shipwrecked sailor adrift in a sea of passion.

His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his goal, his prize, finally within his grasp. He kissed you again, his tongue delving deep, mimicking the rhythm of the tides that pulled at the ship.

His hands moved with purpose, untying the strings of your bikini top, freeing your breasts to the coolness of the night air.

He took a moment to appreciate the sight, his eyes devouring you like a starving man before his mouth followed, his kisses a sweet agony that had you arching into him. . . . .

[uamariner]

#73 Colreg card. Ship's navigation lights and action to avoid collision

[luffysinterlude]

GHOSTIN’

summary: in which Luffy’s been your sanctuary as you grieve the loss of your sworn-soulmate — his brother.

pairings: luffy x reader / ex!ace x reader | the request

warnings: post-marineford, one sided love, slight angst/comfort, reader grew up with ASL, no gendered terms

an: haiiii!!! i’ve been working on this on the side as i’ve been reading nana. i really didn’t know how to tackle this request + song with Luffy especially, but I really tried my best. please leave feedback, it’s always appreciated!! also, as always, there’s another a/n at the end ^.^

inspiration: ghostin’ | word count: 2.2K | tip jar!

“i’ll always find a way to protect you, promise .ᐟ

— GOL PORTGAS D. ACE”

PORTGAS D. ACE IS DEFINITELY, YOUR OTHER HALF. Some might call him your lover, but to you, it was more than that. You had known the hot-headed boy since you were two were children; some say your calm and quiet demeanor balanced him out, but was just as evil and devious, which you couldn’t help but agree with that. The two of you went around the village causing trouble for fun and sometimes you’d help him with his tasks in the mountains.

Ace has always been your ray of sunshine. With everything he’s gone through — which, you were a witness to — he’s still able to light a room up with a single conversation. Literally.

When Ace informed you that he finally got a devil fruit, you thought it might’ve been a God themself that handed the Mera-Mera no Mi to Ace, because still to this day, his presence remains the brightest and captivating —

even though he physically isn’t with you anymore.

It’s been almost two years since the day the Heavens took Ace back. Years that were full of utter silence in your world; the pain weighing heavy on your body and soul. You’ve remained under the watch of Shakky and Rayleigh, asking that you get to spend as much time with Luffy as possible; the last bit of Ace you have access to.

Following the War at Marineford, you had asked Rayleigh if it was okay for you to stick around. He agreed after recognizing who you were — a childhood friend to both Ace and Luffy — figuring you didn’t have anywhere safe to go anyway; you’ve become infamous due to Ace’s influence on you during your childhood, and with your reputation, you’re not sure of what consequences you’d face if you were even near pirates or marines.

You’ve been with Shakky the most during this time: her giving you haki training in exchange for you to help her out whenever she needs it. You can’t complain though. You enjoy the feeling of having a maternal figure in your life, especially right now. You’re unsure of how to control your emotions, and Shakky’s been helping you navigate through them, and use them to your benefit.

Luffy has too. Whether the rubber boy knows it or not, you appreciate his gimmicks whenever you get to visit him on training days. He always has a bright smile on his face when greeting you, your body grows with warmth every time he sees you; like right now, you feel like the heat has gotten ten times hotter, yet his embrace just feels so familiar and welcoming, you almost forget that you have to pull away.

“Hey! You said you’d visit me two days ago! I got finished with my training early and expected to see you, but Rayleigh said your plans changed! What happened?” His voice is loud yet soft, and the way he’s looking at you makes you feel guilty. You avoid his gaze immediately, the small smile you’d painted on your face fading.

You don’t like talking about Ace to Luffy. It’s been like this since the two of you were children, but especially now. You know he’s trying his best to keep your mind astray from the grief, and he’s been doing so, so good at that. But every now and then, Ace visits you as you sleep, and the following day is so hard, you want to be left alone.

ᯓ★

Luffy’s not stupid — or at least, he knows how to navigate his feelings. It’s what helped observation haki come easy to him, and instantly he feels your demeanor switch; the sun reflected in your eyes, then suddenly disappeared. He knows when you’re having a tough time. In fact, he thinks he knows everything about you.

He’d probably never find it in him to voice it, but somewhere along the way, he thinks he’s found love within you. Even with the entire ocean separating the two of you for years, the feeling only blooms at the thought of you. He thinks this is how Ace must’ve felt.

Without hesitating, he grabs your hand and drags you into the jungle that’s served as his temporary home for the past year and a half. These days the jungle is quiet, so Luffy’s able to spend more time in it without having to worry. Plus, he’s a hundred times stronger than he was when he first reunited with you.

He giggles at your confused and shocked state, wanting to tease you about how you’re not used to his antics at this point. Instead he just basks in your flushed expression, admiring the beauty that graces you.

ᯓ★

After the most unwanted and unexpected marathon of your life, Luffy stops. You’re barely able to process your surroundings when you’re suddenly flying. Screams leave your throat immediately, only for you to be situated on a branch seconds after.

Luffy sits next to you, his left arm wraps around your waist securely and he nestles his head into your shoulder blade; it’s almost as if he’s clinging onto you like a koala, all while you’re nearly dying to catch your breath. He’s always been this close and clingy, especially on days you’re quiet, but over the years, you’ve grown accustomed to it this trait of his.

Your breathing goes back to normal after a couple of moments, and soon your eyes find the boy staring up at you, eyes wide and curious, sending a gentle shiver down your spine.

“Sooooooo…you been thinkin’ about Ace?” Luffy’s bluntness is something you should be used to by now, but sometimes you wonder how his crew’s able to deal with it.

You sigh as you lean into him, staring out in front of you: the clear sky was painted a pretty shade of pinks and blues, the sun was saying its final goodbyes, and the ocean — a symbol of your will — sang peacefully as the two of you settled in each other’s presence.

“Yeah,” you breathed softly. “Ace visited me again, the other day — It was kind of sudden, he hadn’t done that for a while now.”

“Well did he say anything?” You don’t want to answer, but the way he’s looking at you has your chest fill with warmth.

ᯓ★

Ace lays next to you in the sand, his gaze fixated on yours as his fingertips softly grazed the features of your face. It was silent as it always was, and you felt yourself relaxing into his touch. Although it was all in your head, it felt so real. As if the two of you were just taking a vacation, without a care in the world.

And for the first time in a long time, Ace’s voice reaches your ears.

“Ya know, Luffy’s always had a thing for you,” You’re taken back and your brows furrow in confusion. Ace has never actually talked to you in your dreams, so for this to be the first time makes you question your sanity. “He always asked me about you whenever we were kids. He never wanted to do things unless you were there to watch him. He cried whenever you leave. I always thought he was just overly dramatic, but even now, as I watch him, his eyes water.

He’s hoping to ask you to join his crew,” Ace pauses to chuckle, a sound that you had almost forgotten. You bite your tongue as you feel your eyes water, not wanting to move incase you’d wake up. “The boy asked me for advice. Mentioned the times you’ve denied him before, when we were kids, asking on how and what he could do to get you to join him.

He believes in himself more than ever now, and he told me he feels like he owes you something for not only taking care of him, but Sabo and I as well. I always thought it was a weird-one sided obsession, but then thought about how I feel the same way about you too. Like a treasure that must be protected — even though you’ve done well on your own already. I used to think you were a witch.” You roll your eyes at his nickname for you, slowly processing what he’s telling you.

“I’m not asking you to date him or anything — But I think you should consider joining the Strawhats. They’re promising, and I believe you’d make their crew so much stronger. Now that I’m gone, who’ll watch over my crazy little brother? If only Sabo was here, then maybe I’d have him do it instead of asking you — but you’ve always been the best of taking care of us, and Luffy’s attached to you. He’ll listen to your insight, because he thinks you’re the smartest person in the world. I agree, but only because I’m not on Earth anymore.” You scoff at his self-compliment, knowing it was just something to tease you about, but appreciating the fact that the boys always knew you were the smartest of the bunch. You roll on your side to face him, eyes widening when you notice he’s staring you straight in the eye.

He looks like the same hot-headed boy that left you those years ago. As if he was seventeen again, waving a see-you-later to you and Luffy as the ocean carried him and his tiny boat away. Nothing’s changed since then, even when you’d run into him at ports when you were venturing the sea as well.

“Again, you don’t have to feel any kind of those feelings towards him, but I think Luffy will help you ease the pain and eventually grow from it. If anything, he looks up to me. Find me in him if it helps. I’ll watch over the two of you and try my best to help you both out, but for now, please enjoy your youth and life for me — surrounded by love. You have so much to live for and so much willpower. You’ve always been the epitome of freedom to us, so please go and enjoy it.

I won’t visit you for a while now. I’ll let you go and handle business. But please, as always, be safe. Don’t go crashing out on everyone now. I love you, thank you for allowing me to grow with you.

I’m sorry that time and distance separated us, and I’ll make sure you’re always protected, just as I promised.”

You’re silent as he just smiles at you, words wanting to spill from your lips, but none of them feeling right. Your bottom lip wobbles as you stare at his face and features, blinking tears away so you can engrave his face into your brain.

“You know how to get to me; I’ll always be here for you. I’ll see ya later, hot stuff. Can’t wait to watch what trouble you make happen.”

ᯓ★

You sigh as you bring yourself back to reality, breathing in the air surrounding the two of you. It was fresh, the breeze was nice, and the sea remained humming her song quietly.

“Well, he might’ve let it slip that someone wants me to be apart of their crew,” you tease, feeling the boy suddenly jolt.

He chuckles nervously as he rubs the back of his head awkwardly, clearly not expecting to be outed by his own brother. “Huh?” He feigns innocence, “Well who?”

You roll your eyes and raise your brow, arms crossed as you stared at him, challenging his gaze to see if he breaks. When he doesn’t, you decide to mess with him.

“Shanks,” you tease; you’d met the infamous Red-Haired pirates around the same time Luffy did, and he was your first ever haki teacher. Although it was a small lie to tell, it wasn’t hard for Luffy to believe it.

His expression fell dramatically, his voice whiney as he pouted and looked towards the sky.

“ACE, YOU DIDN’T TELL ME THAT SHANKS ALREADY BEAT ME!” You giggled as the Luffy sent curses up to the Heavens, silently hoping none of the Gods cursed you for Luffy’s outburst. You grabbed his hands suddenly, and for a split second, shivers went down your spine. He turned and looked at you, an unreadable expression on his face that almost looked like regret.

“Hey, hey,” you coo to him. You’d always comfort Luffy after his brothers would tease him, and over time Luffy’s grown to love your touch and words. “‘M just teasin’. He told me that you were hoping I’d join your crew. Honestly?” His fingers intertwine with yours as he patiently waits for you to finish your thoughts; his hands are warm and soft, despite his constant training, the way they’ve always been. The way he’s always been. “I’ll do it, if it means I can help you reach your goals. I told you I’d see you off as pirate king when we were younger, didn’t I?”

Luffy gasps and wraps his arms around you tightly, burying his face in your shoulder. The sudden embrace takes you by surprise, and you feel his mouth moving but you’re unsure of what he’s saying. You welcome his embrace, thinking of all that’s happened since Marineford. Luffy’s been with you since, helping you grow stronger and stray your mind away from what you’ve lost. He’s been doing so well — he makes you laugh about the stupidest things, he’d always defend you from the former monsters of this jungle, he tells you stories from his adventures and you do the same. These past few months, it’s gotten easier to accept and let go of the grief, thanks to him.

“Promise I’ll make it worth it for ya! Thanks for trusting me! Took you such a long time to say yes,” he says as he pulls away from you, smile accompanying his lovely facial features. “We’ll have so much fun! You remember the crew, right? From that time in Alabasta?”

As you and Luffy sit and escape the world around you, you feel a new excitement grow in you. You’re just as ready as he is to reunite with everyone, even if you weren’t a Stawhat before this. For the first time in a long time, you feel free. You don’t feel this way because Ace let you go, but because he pushed you to finding your freedom. And all you can do now is live and hope to achieve all that’s waiting for you.

ᯓ★

an: i’m thinking about a part two because this felt more like it was centered around Ace and Reader’s relationship T^T. but honestly i wouldn’t mind. plus i think reader might subconsciously love Luffy the way he loves them. so maybe i will write a part two to satisfy myself, idk. it’s been a while since i’ve written and have been able to get any creativity out of my body, thanks to work 😻. anyway, please do leave your feed back!!! i’ll enjoy it. thank you so much for reading!!

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Word List: Sea

beautiful words with "sea" to try to include in your poem/story

Heartsease - peace of mind; tranquility; any of various violas

Seabeach - a beach lying along the sea

Seaberry - redberry

Seaborgium - a short-lived radioactive element that is produced artificially

Seaborne - borne over or on the sea; carried on by oversea shipping

Seacross - jellyfish

Seafaring - the use of the sea for travel or transportation

Seaflower - a sea anemone or similar actinozoan

Seafoam - a brilliant to light green that is very slightly lighter than chrysoprase

Seafront - the waterfront of a seaside place

Seamanship - the art or skill of handling, working, and navigating a ship

Seamark - a line on a coast marking the tidal limit; an elevated object serving as a beacon to mariners

Seaquake - a submarine earthquake

Seascape - a view of the sea; a picture representing a scene at sea; also called seapiece

Seashine - the shine of the sea; especially: light reflected off the sea

Seasickness - motion sickness experienced on the water

Seastrand - seashore; land adjacent to the sea; seacoast; all the ground between the ordinary high-water and low-water marks; foreshore

Seatrain - a seagoing ship equipped for carrying a train of railroad cars

Seawall - a wall or embankment to protect the shore from erosion or to act as a breakwater

Seaworthy - fit or safe for a sea voyage

If any of these words inspire your writing, do tag me or send me a link. I'd love to read your work!

More: Word Lists ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs