#Moby dick chapter 2

[algumaideia]

Second chapter of Moby Dick was basically I made a mistake now I'm in this unknown city and I need a inn but I'm poor. Let's look to a place that looks destroyed so it will be cheaper. Some stuff about the islands and whaling and the four last paragraphs that I did not understand

[yoomiwrites]

Got the hots for you

Summary: You're dorks, but you're in love. GN Reader, you perspective.

Note: So! Here we have our second place, Ace and a cheerful Reader. This one was...idk, kinda difficult for me but I think I am satisfied with how it came out in the end. Much love to you! I will post an update after this how the other stories are going and when they will get an new chapter. For those who are waiting for them!

Part 2

♤

The salty sea breeze ruffled your hair as you leaned against the railing of the Moby Dick, watching the waves ripple under the silver moonlight. The night was calm, the ship’s usual boisterous energy reduced to the occasional creak of wood and the muffled laughter of pirates lingering below deck. The warmth of a nearby lantern cast flickering shadows over the deck, and beside you, Ace stretched, letting out a contented sigh.

“You’re unusually quiet tonight,” he commented, tilting his head toward you with a lopsided grin. “Thinking about something?”

You huffed out a laugh, folding your arms on the railing. “Pfft, when am I ever not thinking? My brain’s a constant carnival.”

Ace chuckled, his voice warm. “That’s true. But c’mon, tell me what’s up. I know you, Y/N. You’re all sunshine and fireworks, but something’s different.”

You swallowed, keeping your gaze locked on the ocean. It was Ace. He always saw through you. You had been on the Moby Dick longer than he had, but from the moment he set foot on board, you had clicked effortlessly. He was the only one who could keep up with your antics, the only one who matched your energy. And somewhere along the way, you had fallen hopelessly, irreversibly in love with him.

But he could never know.

It wasn’t worth the risk. What you had with him—the laughter, the teasing, the unspoken understanding—was too precious. And so, you swallowed your feelings, shoved them into the depths of your heart, and pretended they didn’t exist.

Unfortunately, Ace had a talent for making things difficult.

“Maybe…” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe you’re thinking about Thatch?”

Your head snapped toward him so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash. “What?!”

Ace smirked, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Aha! I knew it. You’ve been acting all weird around him lately. Blushing. Looking away. Laughing at his dumb jokes.” He waggled his eyebrows. “You got the hots for Thatch, don’t you?”

Your brain short-circuited. Of all the ridiculous things—

“What—Ace, no! I do not have the hots for Thatch!” you protested, flailing your arms wildly. “He’s like a dumb older brother! A ridiculous, cake-obsessed brother!”

Ace narrowed his eyes playfully. “Suuure. That’s what everyone says before they end up running into someone’s arms all dramatic-like.”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “Oh my god, you’re impossible.”

“But adorable, right?” he teased, nudging your side.

You bit your lip, trying to fight the stupid smile threatening to break through. This was exactly the problem. He made your heart race without even trying. You had spent months—years—falling for this idiot, and he had absolutely no idea.

Taking a deep breath, you forced a grin and leaned closer, elbowing him back. “Yeah, yeah. Keep dreaming, fire boy.”

Ace feigned offense, placing a hand over his chest dramatically. “Wow. After all we’ve been through, you wound me.”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could respond, he sobered slightly, his gaze turning curious. “So if it’s not Thatch… is there someone?”

Your stomach did a backflip. You didn’t trust yourself to lie convincingly, so instead, you laughed—a little too loudly, a little too forced. “What kind of question is that?”

“A pretty simple one.”

You hesitated, gripping the railing tighter. He was watching you carefully now, his dark eyes searching, waiting. You could feel the weight of the moment pressing against your chest. If you answered wrong, if you slipped up—

You shrugged, plastering on the most nonchalant smile you could muster. “Pfft, please. Who would have time for romance on this ship?”

Ace studied you for a long second before finally shaking his head with a chuckle. “I dunno. You strike me as the hopeless romantic type.”

You scoffed, nudging him again to mask the ache in your chest. “And you strike me as the kind of guy who eats before he thinks.”

Ace laughed, bright and carefree, but then his expression turned thoughtful. He leaned against the railing, staring out at the sea. “I don’t think I deserve it, you know?”

You blinked, taken aback. “Deserve what?”

“Love.” He exhaled, his fingers absentmindedly drumming against the wood. “My family doesn’t deserve to live on. I don’t either.”

Your blood boiled instantly. “That’s crap.”

Ace turned to you in surprise, and before he could say anything, you jabbed a finger into his chest, your voice fierce. “You listen to me, Portgas D. Ace. If you ever say something that stupid again, I will personally kick your ass. You are more than your bloodline. You are good, and you are kind, and you are loved.”

His lips parted slightly, as if he didn’t know what to say. And then, suddenly, he laughed—warm, genuine, surprised. “You’re something else, Y/N.”

Your heart raced as he reached out, fingers brushing against a loose strand of your hair. He tucked it behind your ear, his touch lingering just a second too long. His eyes softened, the usual teasing replaced with something deeper, something unspoken.

For a moment, the entire world shrank down to just the two of you—the moonlight, the waves, and the space between you that felt smaller than ever.

And in that moment, you knew.

Ace was going to figure it out. Maybe not tonight. Maybe not tomorrow.

But someday.

The next morning, Ace sat on a barrel, groggy-eyed and yawning, when Marco plopped down beside him, arms crossed and a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

“You look troubled, yoi. Thinking too hard?”

Ace groaned. “Why does everyone think I think too hard?”

Marco shrugged. “Because when you do, it looks like it hurts.”

Ace squinted at him. “What do you want?”

Marco leaned back, looking far too entertained. “Just wondering what’s got you so lost in thought. Maybe… a certain someone?”

Ace frowned. “What?”

“Oh, you know. Someone who gets under your skin. Someone you can’t stop messing with.” Marco waggled his eyebrows. “Someone with a very familiar laugh.”

Ace blinked, brain still sluggish from sleep. Then it hit him. “Wait. No way.”

Marco’s grin widened. “Oh, way.”

Ace scoffed, waving him off. “Pfft. You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I?” Marco hummed, standing up and stretching. “Because I could swear Y/N looked at you last night like they wanted to set you on fire. But, y’know, in a loving way.”

Ace choked. “EXCUSE ME?!”

Marco clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Think about it, fire boy.” And with that, he walked off, leaving Ace staring after him, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“…Wait… WAIT—HOLD ON, MARCO! MARCO, GET BACK HERE—WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?!”

The sun was high in the sky, casting golden light over the deck of the Moby Dick, but Ace was acting like an idiot.

You had spent the entire day watching him fumble through tasks he normally handled with ease. He tripped over a barrel, nearly set a crate on fire (thankfully Marco intervened before the flames got too excited), and somehow managed to spill an entire plate of food on himself at lunch. It was so ridiculous that even the crew had started placing bets on how many more times he’d mess up before the day was over.

And you? You were torn between laughing and being seriously concerned.

So, after watching him almost walk straight off the ship for the third time, you finally decided to step in.

“Ace!” You stomped over, hands on your hips as he froze mid-step, looking at you like you’d just caught him sneaking extra dessert from Thatch’s kitchen. “What the hell is going on with you today?”

“W-What?” He blinked rapidly, as if that would help him process the situation. “Nothing! I’m fine!”

You scoffed. “Oh yeah? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re actively trying to win the ‘Most Clueless Idiot of the Year’ award.”

Ace groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m not clueless.”

“Then explain why you almost walked off the ship again.”

“I was distracted!”

“By what?”

Ace clamped his mouth shut, avoiding your gaze. Suspicious.

You leaned in, squinting at him. “Is there something you need to tell me? Because at this rate, I’m going to start thinking someone hit you over the head.”

He muttered something under his breath.

“What was that?” You cupped a hand to your ear, grinning now because you could tell whatever this was, it was embarrassing for him.

Ace sighed dramatically, rubbing the back of his neck. “Marco said something weird this morning, and now I can’t stop thinking about it.”

You frowned. “Marco? What did he say?”

Ace hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. Then, after a long moment, he blurted out, “He said you got the hots for me.”

Your brain short-circuited.

“…WHAT?!”

Ace looked like he regretted every decision leading up to this conversation. “I told him he was crazy! But then I started thinking about it and now—” He gestured vaguely. “Now I’m acting like an idiot.”

You stared at him, mouth opening and closing as your brain desperately tried to process his words. Then, before you could stop yourself, you let out a loud, incredulous laugh.

Ace frowned. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because,” you wheezed, wiping at your eyes, “I cannot believe this is what’s been making you act like a total disaster all day.”

Ace huffed. “It’s not funny.”

“It’s hilarious.”

“No, it’s—” He paused, suddenly squinting at you. “Wait. You’re not even denying it.”

You froze. Oh. Oh no.

Ace’s eyes widened as realization dawned on him. “Wait… WAIT—”

Panicking, you did the only thing you could think of.

You shoved him and bolted.

“HEY! GET BACK HERE!” Ace yelled, chasing after you, laughter ringing through the ship as the crew watched in amusement.

You had successfully evaded Ace for a good fifteen minutes before he finally cornered you near the back of the ship, arms crossed and a triumphant smirk on his face.

“You can’t run forever, Y/N.”

You huffed, crossing your arms as well. “I could try.”

Ace shook his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. “C’mon, just be honest with me.”

Your heart hammered. “Honest about what?”

He rolled his eyes. “You know what. Do you… actually like me?”

You opened your mouth—then closed it. You were usually quick-witted, but right now, words were failing you. Instead, you dramatically groaned, throwing your hands in the air. “Ace, you’re making this so awkward.”

Ace snorted. “Me? You’re the one who ran like a guilty criminal.”

You huffed. “Because you were being weird!”

“I was being weird because Marco got in my head!” He rubbed his temples, looking exasperated. “And now I can’t stop thinking about it!”

Silence stretched between you. His words hung in the air, heavy and uncertain. Slowly, Ace’s expression shifted, something softer flickering behind his usually confident eyes. He stepped closer, hesitant but determined. “Would it be such a bad thing?”

Your breath caught. “What?”

“If you did like me.” He scratched the back of his head, suddenly looking unsure. “Would that be so bad?”

Your brain screamed at you to say something—anything—but your heart was too busy doing somersaults.

Ace sighed, then suddenly reached out, brushing his fingers against your wrist, barely touching, like he was testing the waters. “Because… I think I’d be okay with that.”

Your stomach did a backflip.

You looked at him—really looked at him—and saw the nervousness hidden under his bravado. He was waiting for your answer. Waiting for you.

So, with a shaky breath, you decided to be brave.

“I think I’d be okay with that, too.”

Ace blinked, stunned. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a grin—one so bright and full of mischief that you knew, without a doubt, you had just signed up for an absolute disaster.

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

[sashayed]

i'm finally reading moby dick and there's a lot i didn't know about it such as that the first several dozen chapters are very funny! to me ol Call Me Ishmael has a kind of "what if bertie wooster were 1. american 2. competent" narrative vibe, although admittedly i am what one professor once called an "idiosyncratic" reader, meaning u should not trust anything i say. anyway the book i THOUGHT "moby dick" was going to be doesn't start until captain ahab finally stumps upstairs in chapter 36 and then boy does it ever, because he has I Am In A Tragedy disease and it is contagious and now everyone who was normal two pages ago is monologuing ominously in the dead of night. did you guys know herman melville is a very good writer? have you heard about this? he really knows that if you encounter someone who has you doing soliloquies you should Leave. if you encounter that person while you are on a boat in the middle of the 19th century ocean you are fucked for sure. poor starbuck is out here like "i really would prefer to be in a story about doing my Fucking Job"

[sanjisleggy]

the siren and the sun (portgas d. ace x reader) [pt5]

a/n: gong xi fa cai my fellow ace lovers, i have returned after more than 2 weeks of no new chapter, enjoy :D also this will contain my first attempt at something vaguely smutty and im trying my best so ahsjdhsahddgsjfhd

contents: fluff!! whitebeard pirates being a whole family :’D, some suggestive themes as i attempt to write smth seggsy

wc. 1.9k

wanna be on my taglist?

part 4 || part 6

i. 

the gentle rocking of the Moby Dick and the gentle streams of light filtering through your cabin blinds are what coax you awake the next morning.

blinking away the sleep in your eyes, it takes you a second to remember the events that occurred just hours ago when the sun had yet to rise and the moon stood high in its place. the memories are solidified as such–and not as mere dreams–when you feel a light stirring on top of your chest.

Ace mumbles something incoherent as he adjusts his head, still deep in slumber. his face rests on its side atop your chest as his firm arms lay on either side of your body with one hand interlocked with yours while the other stretches out and dangles over the edge of your bed. your free hand–the one not held clenched in his damp palm–is draped across his back, bent at the elbow just enough for the tips of your fingers to reach the base of his hair at the back of his neck. you drag your hand up further until his mildly sweaty, wavy hair is weaved in between your digits before you start scratching at his scalp gently.

he hums softly and shuffles a little but settles back into deep sleep with a faint smile stretching across his freckled face. taking a few quiet minutes to look at his peaceful self, a warmth swells up in your chest. you can’t quite remember the last time you’ve seen him so calm and relaxed, even as children he was always on-edge regardless of being awake or asleep.

a sudden light knocking snaps you out of your thoughts as your eyes dart over to the door of your cabin slowly swinging open just a crack.

“hey, (Y/N), you awake–” you recognise Marco’s voice before you see his face but once you do, you immediately catch how his eyes widen when he spots Ace sleeping on top of you. his mouth begins to form an ‘O’ shape but you cut him off before he can say anything embarrassing.

“leave!” your tongue tingles as you use your Devil Fruit ability, careful not to speak too loud in fear of waking the young man resting on your chest. as expected, your commander obeys without question and shuts your door but it doesn’t take long before you hear muffled shouts about how some people now owe him a lot of berry. 

“guess we won’t have to break the news ourselves, huh?” Ace mutters as his eyes flutter awake. he grins when your eyes meet his and you can’t help but smile, too. “good morning, pretty,” he hums before inching forward to brush his lips against yours.

“g’morning,” you reply in the middle of the kiss as you feel your face heat up when it dawns on you that this really is happening. you are, in fact, in bed with your childhood love and he is, in fact, kissing you good morning.

you idly wonder if life could get any better than this and, for the following months, it does.

ii.

it doesn’t take long for you and Ace to become very comfortable as partners and the endless teasing from the division commanders and Pops himself doesn’t fluster you as much as you initially worried it would. it helps that aside from poking fun at the both of you, they wholeheartedly support your relationship and aren’t afraid to show it.

Marco was the one who suggested transferring you from the first division to the second–purely out of sheer coincidence–when it was announced that Ace would officially join that division.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he’d said as he turned his head away to hide his teary eyes when you asked if he would miss you being his second-in-command.

“y’know i don’t have to change divisions just for Ace, right?” you teased while elbowing Marcoin the ribs in an attempt to get him to show you his face.

“well, we all know you want to,” he replied as he ruffled your hair, “and what kind of big brother would i be to stop you?”

Vista had been the one who taught Ace about the language of flowers which eventually led to you receiving a bouquet of one hundred and eight sunflowers. when you asked him what it meant, all he did was turn red, stutter incoherently before setting himself on fire.

“he’ll tell you whenever he’s ready!” was all Vista said with a hearty chuckle when you asked him for its meaning instead, knowing full well if you tried asking Ace again the entire ship might go down in flames.

Thatch was the one who prepared a twelve course meal just for the two of you after Ace offhandedly mentioned the anniversary of the day you first met Luffy and him was coming up soon.

“how’d you even remember that?” you’d asked incredulously, finding it hard sometimes to even recall the current day of the week, let remember a single date from so many years ago. in response, his face flushed red.

“i-i don’t know! i just do, okay?” he huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest and looked away, his freckled cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red when you started to laugh.

on the mentioned day itself, you and Ace exited your cabin for dinner only to find the ship was entirely empty except for Thatch and Izou–with the latter promptly whisking you away the moment he spotted you leaving your room.

after half an hour of waiting in the dining room by himself, wearing a suit that was definitely not his, Ace felt his jaw drop when he saw you enter as Izou shut the door behind you. a light layer of makeup was painted on your face, the amount just enough to accentuate your features without overshadowing your natural beauty. 

when Ace’s eyes trailed down from your face to your body, he realised then it was the first time he’d ever seen you wearing a dress and it was perhaps the most beautiful dress he’d ever seen. although, if he were to be honest with himself, he wasn’t entirely sure if the clothing itself was beautiful or if it was because you had been the one wearing it. 

that evening, for the first time in his life, Ace ate as slowly as possible, working his way through the different courses at a snail’s pace. the food was delicious but seeing your candle lit face smiling at him from across the table satiated a yearning deep in his heart. 

later that night, after you’d long fallen asleep, Ace slipped out from your bed and found Thatch still up, prepping ingredients for the next day. to the older man’s surprise, Ace bowed deeply and thanked him for the meal and for putting a smile on your face that would be engraved into his memory for the rest of time. Thatch simply laughed and said it was no big deal, that he was happy to do it for the both of you. 

Ace ended up staying up that night and you found him later in the morning, sleepily cutting vegetables in the kitchen by Thatch’s side.

iii.

over the months, you and Ace become a force to be reckoned with, making your mark on the seas in your sworn father’s name.

it doesn’t take long for the world to learn that the infamous super rookie Fire Fist Ace was now in Whitebeard’s second division and that wherever he showed up, one person would undoubtedly be by his side.

another Devil Fruit user, surely, the marine cadets would whisper amongst themselves as another charred ship docks at headquarters and out of it pours countless soldiers on stretchers. i hear it’s not Conqueror's Haki,” one would say to another, “it doesn’t matter how hard you try, as long as you hear the command, you can’t fight it.” 

some would believe the rumours while others didn’t, steadfast in their belief that there’s no way the Command-Command Fruit still exists–not when the higher-ups insist it's been permanently destroyed. eventually, though, a handful of the sceptics would find themselves facing Fire Fist and his ally in the flesh and if they live to tell the tale, they’d return to their base and insist the Command-Command Fruit user truly is out there somewhere.

meanwhile, out on the open seas, you and Ace can’t care less about what the marines think of the two of you. all you care about are the little moments you share with him–like sitting in the front of his modified Striker as it speeds across the ocean while your hair catches the salty breeze; or the feeling of his soapy wet hair as you comb your fingers through it whenever you shower together, followed by the sound of his laugh after he shakes his hair dry just because he knows it annoys you.

your favourite moments with Ace are the quiet ones. the ones where you’re all alone and neither of you have anything to say but it doesn’t matter because the silence is so comfortable. you like when he lets his hands wander ever so carefully over your bare skin and underneath your clothes. his face always turns so red and yet he’ll stare into your eyes almost shamelessly, silently asking for permission to do more.

and then the quiet moments will turn not-so quiet as your soft huffs and moans fill the air while his fingers dance their way to places only meant for him to explore. sometimes you swear you can even hear the pounding of his Ace’s heart as he experiments with ways to elicit his favourite reactions from you–the ones where your breath hitches or your hips buck into his hand. 

sometimes he’ll let you return the favour but more often than not he’ll insist he enjoys making you feel good more than anything.

on the nights he gives in to his desires, though, Ace makes noises almost unbecoming of a powerful young man like himself. he’ll hide his face behind his hands or bury it into your blankets, unable to bring himself to openly show his teary eyes and drooling lips until you gently coax him out of his embarrassment.

“it’s okay, pretty boy,” you’ll find yourself saying more often than not as you softly pry his large hands away from his flustered, sweaty face. “don’t hide from me, my love,” you’d coo and he’d choke back a moan, fighting the urge to cover his face again, baring it all for you and only you.

and after all is said and done, Ace will sneak food and drinks into your cabin even if you tell him you’re not hungry but you’ll eat and drink anyway because he stole them all for you. you’d thank him by peppering his freckled face in kisses and dragging him to the shower before he can succumb to his sleepiness. you’d clean each other while chatting under your breaths and laughing at each other’s jokes. then, you’ll go to sleep in each other’s arms and he’ll use your chest as his pillow just like he did the night before.

hours later, the sun will rise and you’ll wake up before Ace does, as you always do, and the day will continue just like it had done yesterday, feeling so similar yet so different at the same time.

the little life you’ve built around your family and Ace is good and you’ve never been happier.

but you soon learn that all good times must come to an inevitable end.

gen taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost @hyper-fic-ation @dressycobra7 @38lyra38 @chaseyui @paraparakiss @krooschl @teewon @olliesoxenfree @misstraffy @riftmage27 @aletch @somatchajade @kitsunechan707 @thesmolestsage @lunaizhere @saint-atlas @goldenpanda16

series taglist: @captainportgasdace @mitskisaveme @graveyardsweethearts @vaniiiavengeance @stuckinmymind22

[onepiecereactions]

My Masterlist ! (Blog dead).

Due to hateful comments, this blog is dead and will no longer be updated.

One Piece X Reader Stories :

Marine Academy : Main is Akainu X Reader with a little bit of Aokiji x Reader. 28 Chapters.

Here.

Painting the sky: Smoker X Reader. 7 Chapters.

Here

Pink and Golden: Koby x Reader. 16 Chapters.

Here

Steal my husband : Shanks X Reader. 29 Chapters

Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, chapter 9, chapter 10, chapter 11, chapter 12, chapter 13, chapter 14, chapter 15, chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27, Chapter 28, Chapter 29.

The butterfly effect : Portgas D Ace X Reader (No Marineford war involved, no death, only love) : 16 Chapters.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16.

Others Stories

10 ways of getting fired of Marine Ford

1 and 2 / 3 and 4 / 5 and 6 / 7 and 8 / 9 and 10.

9 Dawn : 9 lines about 9 characters at dawn. (Not a X Reader)

Akainu, Ace and Garp : Here

Trafalgar Law, Tsuru and Hina : Here

Nico Robin, Doflamingo and Edward Newgate : Here

OS about Marine Ford :

I Swear I Lived : Monkey D Garp OS, minutes before dying at an old age, surrounded by love and his family.

Here

Love Letter by Issho Fujitora : OS. Fujitora X Reader. Around 600 words.

Here !

Close the door : Akainu X reader. OS

Here

Themis : Sengoku / Tsuru Friendship OS

Here

Diabolo : Garp / Sengoku Friendship OS

Here

Grandpa : Tsuru / Garp Friendship OS

Here

The Chickens : Tashigi / Hina OS Frienship

Here

Back To School : OS. No Romance, only a cute little OS about : Aokiji, Akainu, Kizaru, Monkey d Garp, Tashigi, Smoker.

Here !

Report, soldier ! OS. No Romance, only a funny little OS about: Tashigi, Smoker, Garp, Kizaru, Coby, Akainu.

Here !

Vice Admiral Smoker and the joys of administration : OS. No romance, only a funny little OS about : Smoker, Tashigi, Garp, Kizaru.

Here !

A normal sunday in the life of Monkey D Garp: Funny little OS about Garp with Sengoku, Tsuru, Aokiji, Akainu, Kizaru and Smoker.

Here

24 hours in Marine Ford: 24 OS about Marineford daily life. Friendship only.

OS 0 : Smoker / Tashigi / Straw Hat Pirates : Midnight report.

OS 1 : Garp / Tsuru : Food Heist

OS 2 : Fujitora : Nightmares

OS 3 : Kizaru / Akainu "ON / OFF"

OS 4 : Akainu / Monkey D Luffy : The king is back !

OS 5 : Garp / Sengoku / Tsuru / Akainu : Where are the cakes ?

OS 6 : Koby / Garp : Wake up Koby !

OS 7 : Tashigi / Hina : Morning Routine

OS 8 : Momonga / Fujitora / Kizaru : Admiral babysitting

OS 9 : Ryokugyu : Garden Party

OS 10 : Aokiji : Snowman.

OS 11 : Garp / Dragon / Luffy : Grandpa ?

OS 12 : Sengoku : Lunch Break

OS 13 : Hina / Smoker : Perfume.

OS 14 :

OS 15 :

OS 16 :

OS 17 :

OS 18 : Tsuru : Ladies.

OS 19 :

OS 20 : Aokiji : Far from home.

OS 21 : Smoker / Garp / Aokiji : Bath time !

OS 22 : Kizaru / Vegapunk : A bright mind.

OS 23 : Sengoku : A man and his goat

OS about Pirates :

7 Ways to say "I love you" and he still doesn't get it, Roronoa Zoro X Reader, OS.

Here !

Lovely Ace: Ace / Marco FRIENDSHIP OS. 2k words.

Here !

Hide behind the clouds : Ace / Marco OS

Here

Naval Battle: Ace / Thatch FRIENDSHIP OS. 500 words.

Here

Moby dick Memories : Ace / Marco / Whitebeard pirates OS

Here

Thoughts of a summer night: Ace / Sabo / Luffy OS

Here

A little guide for Trafalgar Law, to learn how to live with Monkey D Luffy. Written by Nico Robin.

Here

Five minutes before mignight : Hallowen OS : Marco, Ace, Thatch, Whitebeard, Garp :

Here

What the hell ? Shanks X Marco OS

Here

The terrible family : Garp, Ace, Luffy, Sabo, Makino, Shanks

Here

Thank you doctor ! : Law / Kid / Killer OS

Here

“Elpis”. One Piece OS 100 years after the actual era.

Here

[joehills]

I created a playlist for my Saturday Night Moby Dick readings and terraforming streams.

Chapters 1 & 2 are live now if you wanna catch up before we read more this Saturday.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

GHOSTBUSTER. || TRUE CRIME!GHOST 🩸

Summary:

Two sides of the same coin, trying to protect people in their own twisted ways, serial killer!Reader offs men who might take advantage of vulnerable women; while kidnapper!Ghost tries to keep those same young girls safe by kidnapping them... Except for the fact that Ghost is Reader's Moby Dick.

Original Inspo Credit:

Pairing:

serial kidnapper!Ghost x serial killer!F!reader

Content Warnings:

This fic gets dark and twisted. It references murder, kidnapping, torture, body disposal, true crime investigations, references to rape (of other people in similar situations), and other topics of the type.

Check every chapters' tags/cw for specific warnings (Dead Dove Do Not Eat!).

Chapters:

Chapter 1 (4.2k~)

Chapter 2 > COMING SOON <

[MY MASTERLIST]

[desperateknot]

Limbus Company's Queequeg is based on The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Andersen. Here is why I think so:

Disclaimer: First of all, I am not a native English speaker. Therefore, there might be some parts which I have phrased weirdly and some grammatical mistakes. More importantly, I may have fully understood or maybe even misunderstood some parts of the source materials. If I made some mistakes, please be patient with me. Secondly, I have independently realised this connection. However, I am sure that there may be people before me who have already had this idea. Not all points I discussed here are discovered by myself. Thirdly, it is recommended that you reread the original story by Hans Christian Andersen to understand what I would be talking about. Personally I read it from

Now, I will list all the parallels between the story of The Little Mermaid and Limbus Company's Queequeg.

1. Queequeg quite literally almost became a Mermaid, and her motivation in the quest was not to be consumed by the pale and become a Mermaid too. The Little Mermaid in Hans Christian Andersen’s story wanted to stop being a mermaid and gain an immortal soul.

Ishmael: It's the Mermaids' cry… Queequeg: Our future. If we fail to escape. Queequeg: Cry and cry. Trying to kill all we see. Queequeg: Then melt. Very slowly. And later… Queequeg: Float away. Like we were never here. Queequeg: Don't want to be Mermaid. Queequeg: The Pallid Whale. Have to kill it. Only then, we get out.

Canto V Dungeon: Floor 2

“I would give gladly all the hundreds of years that I have to live, to be a human being only for one day, and to have the hope of knowing the happiness of that glorious world above the stars.”

The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Andersen

You may say the Mermaids in Hans Christian Andersen's story and the mermaids in pmverse aren't the same thing. And you would be right. However, please notice Queequeg's wordings regarding the mermaids' demise. Because that is a surprise tool that would help us later.

2. The Little Mermaid is a daughter of the Sea King: she is a princess of the ocean, while Moby Dick Queequeg is the son and the rightful heir of the king of the fictional island of Kokovoko, making him the Prince of said island. Limbus Queequeg, while not being a literal prince or princess, is of considerably high prestige when she was with the Middle, her original (?) family.

The Sea King had been a widower for many years, and his aged mother kept house for him. [...] She was, however, deserving of very great praise, especially for her care of the little sea-princesses, her grand-daughters. They were six beautiful children; but the youngest was the prettiest of them all; [...]; but, like all the others, she had no feet, and her body ended in a fish’s tail.

The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Andersen

His father was a High Chief, a King; his uncle a High Priest; and on the maternal side he boasted aunts who were the wives of unconquerable warriors. There was excellent blood in his veins—royal stuff; [...].

Moby Dick by Herman Melville: Chapter XI - Biographical

Queequeg: They wanted to make me 'Big Sister'.

Canto V Dungeon: Floor 2

3. The Mermaid wanted to grow up to see the world above the ocean, since she wasn’t allowed to until she reached the age of 15. Queequeg, similarly, wanted to become a Big Sister. 

When the sisters rose, arm-in-arm, through the water in this way, their youngest sister would stand quite alone, looking after them, ready to cry, [...]. “Oh, were I but fifteen years old,” said she: “I know that I shall love the world up there, and all the people who live in it.”

The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Andersen

Queequeg: So I killed. And killed. And killed. Not because of orders. Killed with my own hands. Because I wanted to. Because I wanted respect as Big Sister.

Canto V Dungeon: Floor 2

4. The Mermaid abandoned her family under the ocean to marry the Prince so that she could gain an immortal soul. Moby Dick Queequeg also left his family in search of Christendom. Game Queequeg ran away from the Middle (who also called themselves a family) to pursue a new life for her own.

“I know what you want. [...] You want to get rid of your fish’s tail, and to have two supports instead of it, like human beings on earth, so that the young prince may fall in love with you, and that you may have an immortal soul.”

The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Andersen

A Sag Harbor ship visited his father’s bay, and Queequeg sought a passage to Christian lands. [...] Struck by his desperate dauntlessness, and his wild desire to visit Christendom, the captain at last relented, and told him he might make himself at home

Moby Dick by Herman Melville: Chapter XI - Biographical

Queequeg: And I ran. Again.

Canto V Dungeon: Floor 2

5. The Mermaid exchanged her voice for a pair of legs when going to land. Queequeg had herself be lobotomised and lost some of her speech ability as one way to cut herself off from the Middle, escaping them. More prominently, in the original story, the Sea Witch explicitly demanded that the Mermaid let her cut her tongue as payment. We can see how that parallels Queequeg explicitly stating that the doctor cut up her tongue.

“But I must be paid also [...] You have the sweetest voice of any who dwell here in the depths of the sea, and you believe that you will be able to charm the prince with it also, but this voice you must give to me; [...]."

"[...] Put out your little tongue that I may cut it off as my payment; then you shall have the powerful draught.” “It shall be,” said the little mermaid.

The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Andersen

Queequeg: My speech, also touched by the Middle. So I went to doctor… to cut up my tongue. To cut up my brain. To break myself.

Canto V Dungeon: Floor 2

6. The Little Mermaid feels pain with every step after drinking the potion to turn her tail into legs. Queequeg also felt pain when she cut herself in an attempt to erase the tattoos of the Middle.

"[...] Your tail will then disappear, and shrink up into what mankind calls legs, and you will feel great pain, as if a sword were passing through you. [...] At every step you take it will feel as if you were treading upon sharp knives, and that the blood must flow.

Every step she took was as the witch had said it would be, she felt as if treading upon the points of needles or sharp knives [...]

[...] She danced again quite readily, to please him, though each time her foot touched the floor it seemed as if she trod on sharp knives.

The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Andersen

Queequeg used to spend some nights… … in crushing loneliness. In unbearable pain. Queequeg sat in the corner of a dark, dark room. She looked down at her arms. Then, with a small dagger she uses for cutting harpoon ropes… She mercilessly tore into her arms. Like she was carving something into her flesh.

Canto V Dungeon: Floor 2

7. The Mermaid died when she refused to kill the Prince because she loves him too much. Queequeg died because Ishmael "unearthed" her broken heart, as Ahab said. Her faith in Ahab crumbled because of her affection for Ishmael. 

[...] The knife trembled in the hand of the little mermaid: then she flung it far away from her into the waves; the water turned red where it fell, and the drops that spurted up looked like blood. She cast one more lingering, half-fainting glance at the prince, and then threw herself from the ship into the sea, and thought her body was dissolving into foam.

The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Andersen

Effloresced E.G.O::GasHarpoon Ahab: This happened because you dared to unearth her buried heart! Because you forced her broken heart into the open! Effloresced E.G.O::GasHarpoon Ahab: The fault lies with you once again, Ishmael! Effloresced E.G.O::GasHarpoon Ahab: Look at what you've done. Watch her determination crumble, her conviction collapse. Now, with her faith broken, the pale claims Queequeg!

Canto V Dungeon: Floor 3

In a way, she died because of her affection for Ishmael. I think we can all agree the affection that she held toward Ishmael is what allowed the pale to consume her. What kind of affection this is doesn’t matter, even though I, an Ishqueg shipper, have my own personal answer for it.

8. The Little Mermaid died turning into seafoams. Except she didn't. She was a good enough person to be turned into a daughter of air, and with enough good deeds, she can achieve an immortal soul.

"A mermaid has not an immortal soul, nor can she obtain one unless she wins the love of a human being. [...] But the daughters of the air, although they do not possess an immortal soul, can, by their good deeds, procure one for themselves. [...] After we have striven for three hundred years to all the good in our power, we receive an immortal soul and take part in the happiness of mankind. You, poor little mermaid, have tried with your whole heart to do as we are doing; you have suffered and endured and raised yourself to the spirit-world by your good deeds; and now, by striving for three hundred years in the same way, you may obtain an immortal soul.”

The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Andersen

Limbus Queequeg died having her ego dissolved into Ahab and after that, “disintegrated until she was no more”, not unlike the fate of turning into seafoam.

Except. She didn't. Sort of. In the end, her soul assisted Ishmael in killing the whale. Her immortal soul?

This is where I circle back to my first point. "Queequeg didn't want to turn into Mermaid". This is correct, however, for our purpose, we can say she didn't want to dissolve into nothing, like foam of the sea, which perfectly matches up with the Little Mermaid's motivation.

ISHMAEL: That she didn't want the Whales and Mermaids to tear her apart and devour her when her corpse sinks deep into its waters.

Canto V Dungeon: Floor 1

Queequeg: Then melt. Very slowly. And later… Queequeg: Float away. Like we were never here.

Canto V Dungeon: Floor 2

“So I shall die,” said the little mermaid, “and as the foam of the sea I shall be driven about never again to hear the music of the waves, or to see the pretty flowers nor the red sun. Is there anything I can do to win an immortal soul?”

The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Andersen

Other than those direct parallels from their stories, there are still more themes that I have yet to talk about.

1. The sun is seemingly a theme from The Little Mermaid. When living as a princess Mermaid under the sea, the Mermaid was said to arrange her personal flower bed to be “round like the sun, and contained flowers as red as his rays at sunset” and that she “cared for nothing but her pretty red flowers, like the sun”. Other than that, the first time the Little Mermaid rose to the surface was explicitly right after sunset and that she also died right at sunrise. This is a more tenuous connection, so I put it here, but we all know how Queequeg loved the colour of Ishmael's hair, which was compared to the sunset.

2. When the Mermaid was finally 15 and allowed to rise to the surface for the first time, her grandmother dressed her up for the occasion, by placing a wreath of white lilies on her hair with half a pearl on every flowers’ leaves — although the Mermaid princess found the wreath to be heavy and would much prefer her own red flowers. Then, her grandmother “ordered eight great oysters to attach themselves to the tail of the princess to show her high rank.”

When the Princess said this was hurting her, her grandmother replied with “Pride must suffer pain.”

I think that line sums up Queequeg's life in the Middle best. She did not seem to have enjoyed all the killing and torturing of innocents, but the tattoos she got for enacting “Vengeance” shows her high rank and prestige. 

3. In between Moby Dick's Queequeg left his home in search of Christianity only to be disappointed, The Little Mermaid's effort to attain an immortal soul having some religious subtext, and also the Middle calling themselves a familial terms while following strictly a decree from a book, it gives Queequeg a bit of Christianity themes. (But it is really in a particular way). One can also read her leaving the Middle as something similar to Adam and Eve being casted from the Garden of Eden: stripped of protection and comfort for the burden of knowledge and guilt.

What exactly it means, I am really not of the authority to say further, as I am not at all religious. I am living and grew up in a particularly secular country and also doesn't have any education about the subject.

So, assuming that I have proved that Limbus Queequeg has another source material other than Moby Dick, where do we go from here? If Queequeg is the Little Mermaid, who is the prince? Who is the Sea King, her grandmother, her sisters?

Next time, I will discuss why her utter lacks of autonomy is a feature, not a bug, but it is a bug sometimes.

And how Limbus Ahab is a prince. That is important too.

[burningvelvet]

I finished Moby Dick. So, to continue my former post(s) documenting my thoughts, here we are (spoilers ahead):

captain ahab: i am once again asking hast thou seen the white whale

Narrator, for the 5 millionth time describing captain ahab: "MONOMANIACAL. MONOMANIAC. MONOMANIA."

I was thinking "the homosexual themes everyone talks about are really exaggerated apparently…" and then I got to the chapter about sperm squeezing

Stubb meeting with the French in chap 91 had the exact vibe of a filler episode on a comedy sitcom

there are a lot of moments that reminded me of The Office ngl like i could just imagine stubb in the little interview chair just talking. so much meme material. he's seriously just doing his own thing. the little random characters like the blacksmith and carpenter just talking shit and side-eyeing ahab in the background lmaoooo

Saint George didn't kill a dragon, it was a whale #THETRUTHREVEALED #WHALETRUTHERS

It would have been hilarious if the British people told Ahab that they already killed Moby Dick already before he could get to it. I was so hoping that would happen. Bonus points if it was the Rachel after he'd turned them away.

Ahab discusses the topic of madness a lot. It's almost like he's… mad...

I vote Ahab for the most Byronic hero to ever Byronic… Heathcliff and Rochester have nothing on him… The origin of the Byronic hero, Byron's titular character from the narrative poem Childe Harold, is literally mentioned by name in the novel and had to be a blatant inspiration - it could not be more obvious! (I have yet to encounter the famed Byronic heroes of Russian literature, most notably Eugene Onegin, a work where Byron is also blatantly name-dropped).

Everyone thinking Queequeg was dying and having a coffin made to his measurements and filled with grave goods at his direction and then him literally climbing into the coffin to test it out and then waiting silently to die…. then all of a sudden getting better and saying he chose to recover bc he remembered he had something on his to-do list….. iconic

Ishmael referring to Queequeg as "my Queequeg…" omg. Queerqueg

Queequeg drawing figures like the ones on his tattoos omg… au story where Queequeg is an artist/tattoo artist when???

I was literally saying "AWWWWW" out loud when Ahab and Pip were having their little moments

The irony of Ahab abandoning the Rachel then it coming back for Ishmael… the coffin lifeboat… etc… good stuff…

okay ahab is my man but yeah he was an asshole to the captain of rachel.

also feel bad for tashtego. he wanted that gold doubloon so bad and ahab was like SIKE, MOTHERFUCKER! umm tashtego did not get cut out of a whale by queequeg to deal with ur shit ahab!

Once again wanting a Black Sails/Moby Dick AU… I found this essay about the similarities between Flint/Ahab https://ijms.nmdl.org/article/view/22389/14361

They only have like 2-3 little moments together but like… Starbuck/Ahab kind of outdoing Ishmael/Queequeg there for a moment… chaps 132/134… oh my godddddddddddddd whyyyyyyy

Captain Ahab's moments in chapters 36/37 AAAAAHHHHH you will see me being normal about this

I noted some of my favorite Ahab moments/chapters and they are 36/37/41/70/99/108/109/113/115/116/119/125/129/132/134/135. Like I may seriously just re-read those chapters (no offense to Melville's whale facts, Stubb's jokes, & Pip's insanity)

the end is kind of similar to the great gatsby in the sense that you finally realize the entire novel was actually written for him to cope with his grief-related trauma & then suddenly it all makes sense. the lingering, the sentimentality regarding seemingly insignificant details or people, the meandering/digressing/procrastinating getting to the end, etc.

there are actually several moments -- i don't know if he actually referred to ahab or the others in past-tense specifically, but there were several moments where i felt like i kind of thought he was giving away the end before he did (it wasn't a shock to me bc i read about the end prior, but still)

[cctinsleybaxter]

2024 in Books

I didn't get quite as much reading done as I would've liked this past year, but the 30 books I did read were all over the place in terms of quality and subject matter so I'd call that a success. One trend of note was that I kept accidentally reading the fabled upper-middle class white American man's Great American Novel, and, worse, liked them best of all.

The Enormous Room by E.E. Cummings

Cummings' semi-fictionalized autobiography begins with the abrupt end of his service as a volunteer medic in WWI, having been arrested and interned by the French with his coworker/best friend and marked as missing by the US embassy, and I can apparently be tricked into liking poetry if it's disguised as all that. My very first note says '[Joseph] Heller was here,' and that only became more apparent as the book went on. I'm flabbergasted that with time it lost status as a classic, and that people haven't pointed out its massive influence on all sorts of 20th century-defining media when it's THE prison novel. To describe the inhabitants of The Enormous Room or even pick and choose individual lines would be to recite poetry, which for me is like turning gold back into straw (oh god.. it's happening... American werewolf transformation.mp4), but everyone really should check out Cummings' structuring and storytelling graces here. Others have talked about a gift for pivoting between a kind of stereotypical artsy romanticism and stereotypical academic traditionalism, but if I had to sum him up in a word? Obnoxious <3

American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis

Almost landed with the honorable mentions because it overstays its welcome and the descriptions of rape and torture progressed far beyond my stomach's limit, but like. Yeah. I don't think comparisons to Dostoevsky are overblown at all; hamfisted and predictable in places yet deeply clever and unexpected, NYC richboy ennui at the end of the 20th century has been captured so perfectly you can practically hear the cork going into the bottle. The moment I began to tire of the business card scene from the movie repeating ad nauseam and the My Immortal outfit montages and the hilariously-named restaurants where they know you I realized that it was a structural choice and started enjoying them all over again. My favorite chapter is one in which Patrick Bateman makes a last ditch effort to stop being a psycho by escaping to the Hamptons with his girlfriend ("like a spider, she accepted") only to spend the whole vacation vomiting in terracotta pots and standing around listlessly holding an ice pick. My favorite scene and line will have to remain a sickening, awful surprise.

The Devil's Candy: An Anatomy of a Hollywood Fiasco by Julie Salamon

Salamon signed on with Brian De Palma to document production of his Oscarbait adaptation of The Bonfire of the Vanities well before it became a notorious flop, and thanks to that this is one of- if not the- best books for explaining how a movie gets made. It's smart without talking down to its audience, and the fact that the film by all accounts sucked, continually and at every level, is icing on the cake for me. The approach Salamon took to forty-odd interviews and constant observational sessions, ultimately biographizing De Palma* as well as documenting the studio process is really good journalism, mostly very nuanced in how it describes people but also fun enough to select a few villains. There are so many details I'd like to share, but my favorite is the constant allusions to people taking vitamins, supplements, and random pills PAs gave them like candy because 1., it was 1990, 2., on a movie set you are not allowed to get sick, you will be killed, if the production is on a tight schedule and budget you will be killed more.

*As someone who has mixed-to-negative feelings on his movies I learned he's a very earnest artist who doesn't talk to his editors, so mystery solved.

Moby-Dick by Herman Melville

"For anyone who has experienced Moby-Dick, it is a privilege to introduce it to another reader- but a privilege that is abused if extended much beyond the invitation." -Andrew Delbanco

"The real joy in Moby-Dick is the pure act of reading itself" -Fone Bone in Bone (2001), Jeff Smith

"the x-files was groundbreaking because it was the first good tv show that was also bad" -Tumblr user thexfiles

Second favorite book ever.

Re-thinking History by Keith Jenkins

Jenkins wrote this short textbook in 1990, arguing that the way history is taught, especially in higher education, is centered around the idea that with enough work and primary sources an objective, fundamental past can be discovered and accepted across nonpartisan lines, while history taught from 'alternate' viewpoints is relegated to elective courses. Depressing that not much has changed in over thirty years, but I think the structure of Jenkins' argument is really helpful if you want to be able to talk about this stuff with people and push for change with institutions. His intent to make history an intersectional issue ("the ideas I discussed had long been circulating in practically all the other discourses around...”) means he lectures as such, and while I don't agree with everything he has to say we have way more common ground than is usual for me and philosophers. I'd also like to extend a special thanks to the tens of of grad students on here who started running their mouths about James Fitzjames shortly after I finished reading; if I wasn't sold on the argument that empathy isn't a progressive or even functional way of engaging with the past that did it.

From a Buick 8 by Stephen King

This is the best Stephen King book. It suffers from some of the same bullshit as all the worst Stephen King books, I think taken as a Vietnam war allegory and as a working class story (about cops?? famously working class) it may even be uniquely bad, I disliked the epilogue and think it should've ended with the last chapter, but I loved it. Not the second run at a haunted car story I thought it was going to be, but a science fiction story (within a story) wherein you are reading about nothing mattering at 800 miles an hour. It also made me realize that much as I tend to dislike King and his reign over my favorite genre he really is talented, and might be the best in the business at writing not just addiction but what can only be described as intrusive thoughts.

Okay, get in :-)

The Wine-Dark Sea by Robert Aickman

I have a deeply embarrassing phobia of eye floaters, something I'm only admitting here because it's too stupid (or perhaps.. endearing?) to use against me. The first time I 'saw' them at five years old was the first memory I have of feeling real fear as a child, and I always wondered if there was a horror author who could manage to capture that feeling- not in a Lovecraftian space creature way, not over-explaining, just imparting the dread of a little kid experiencing the banal everyday for the first time and it making them sick to their stomach.

Well, here you go. Aickman doesn't make the mistake of lunging for 'what's the scariest thing that could happen next?' He likes a yarn, indescribable only in that it would take every adjective, and incredibly well-written beginning to end. Even the stories that didn't do it for me gave me something to chew on, but my absolute favorites were The Trains and The Inner Room.

Honorable Mentions

An Unauthorized Fan Treatise by Lauren James

This compilation of blog entries from a fan of a fictional 2010s monster-of-the-week show was reworked into a published YA novel that I haven't read, but I think the original formatting of a website with hyperlinks and comment sections you have to manually scroll through is quintessential to its working in the first place. People are writing more and more fiction revolving around the internet I grew up on (some of them grew up on it with me!), but this is one of very few I've found to have both the correct voice and an engaging plot. My equivalent of taking a mass market on an airplane so a little surface-level, but the finer details had me covering my mouth to laugh in horror because yeah, that's exactly how it would've played out.

Right Ho, Jeeves by P.G. Wodehouse

The entire plot stemming from an argument over a dinner jacket is hot.

Starman: The Truth Behind the Legend of Yuri Gagarin by Jamie Doran and Piers Bizony

"The Americans only counted down to add drama for their television." -Vostok guidance and trajectory expert Yuri Mazzhorin

A years-old rec from @barstoolblues that presents an excellent biography of Gagarin, probably as comprehensive as was possible in the 90s, but even more interesting insight into the space race. With years of interviews and research to sort through Doran and Bizony aren't always economical in their pacing, but the book is well-cited, well-written, and never boring. I also think it truly helps to have 'third party' (UK) authors who're critical of the USSR in very different ways than Americans and who are willing to be just as critical of the US. You'll have to turn to the book for wider context, but one of my favorite anecdotes is that they made Gagarin's professional rival Gherman Titov suit up ("dressed in the twentieth century's most distinctive suits of armour…") and go to the launch pad with him as his understudy. World's funniest, saddest psychological torture, though they did get to clonk helmets as a kiss goodbye which is very cute.

[canon-in-too-deep]

Free Moby Dick Typeset

Book/typeset #51: Moby Dick by Herman Melville (sized for half letter/letter folio). This chonky text is available for FREE in my library (personal use only). And there were so. Many. Chapters. *Stares off in distance as screen crashes for the twentieth time while trying to wrangle chapter headers.* Anyway, if you use, please leave credit and consider liking/reblogging! Any errors feel free to let me know! Also, please note that there are 2 different typesets of this book available! One is 536 pages, and the other is 448 pages (the shorter one is labeled 'Save the Trees' in the folder). They are the similar typesets, but have slightly different title pages and significantly different chapter headings. I tried to make this text as compact as possible, so you might notice that I typeset it at a smaller size (9pt font) with less leading (130%), and narrower margins. To be honest, I was rather intimidated by this text, partly because of how many really incredibly done book designs/typesets I've seen done for Moby Dick. But I'm glad I gave it a try! I like using all the ocean themed art I found. ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

Alternate version title page and chapter heading below the break:

[art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament]

Behold, a bracket!

Text form below the cut because trying to copy all the 256 into the alt text sounded.... horrifying. Warning for 128 matchups, seriously, this list is long, and so I've avoided adding the artists until the polls.

a note: the pinned post has started misbehaving, so only open polls will be directly linked. closed polls instead have the results page linked in the set header, all the polls are linked from there

Set 1

The Lament for Icarus (Miao He) vs The Lament for Icarus (Herbert Draper)

The angel came to me in a fever hallucination, perched upon my bed as I returned from the bathroom. vs Sweet Brown Snail

Figures vs A Philosopher Lecturing on the Orrery

Happy Shoppers vs Hubble Deep Field

Lovers Painting vs Bath Curtain

Dr. Helen Taussig vs Une Martyre

Orangoutang étranglant un sauvage de Bornéo (Orangutan strangling a Borneo savage) vs Can’t Help Myself

Rape vs Technicolor Hiroshima

Set 2

A Walk at Dusk vs Based on “Autoportrait with the Model” by Maria-Rayevska Ivanova

Diary Page vs Les Jours Gigantesques (The Titanic Days)

Dead of Night vs You Won't

Christina's World vs Bobby

Untitled (I’m Turning Into A Specter Before Your Very Eyes And I’m Going To Haunt You) vs Two Sisters (On the Terrace)

Sharecropper vs Lustmord

The Parca and the Angel of Death vs Untitled (Zdzisław Beksiński)

Stress vs The Fallen Angel

Set 3

Device to Root Out Evil vs Travelling Light

Diana vs Fifty Days at Iliam: The Fire that Consumes All before It

The Plains, from Memory vs Exotic Bodies

Doubting Thomas vs Self-Portrait in the Bathroom Mirror

Empty Nest vs Somebody Fell From Aloft

Anguish vs If I Died

Cat in Obsolete Bath vs You're Not Boring Anymore

Salvator Mundi (Savior of the World) vs Untitled (billboard of an empty unmade bed)

Set 4

There Will Be No Miracles Here vs Symphony of the Sixth Blast Furnace

Fox Hunt vs Tarpaulin

Khajuraho Group of Monuments vs Ranakpur Jain Temple

ปราสาทสัจธรรม (The Sanctuary of Truth) vs Grande Panorama de Lisboa

Heroic Head of Pierre de Wissant, One of the Burghers of Calais vs The Weather

The Daughters of Edward Darley Boit vs If this is art

Statue of Vincent and Theo van Gogh vs Jeanne d’Arc écoutant les voix (Joan of Arc listening to the Voices)

Fountain vs Judith Slaying Holofernes

Set 5

Cueva de las Manos (Cave of Hands) vs Cave of El Castillo

Chauvet Cave Bear vs Uffington White Horse

Laocoön and His Sons vs Winged Victory of Samothrace

Crouching Aphrodite vs Statue of Taweret

Guardian Figure vs Kūya-Shonin (Saint Kuya)

Ancient Greek doll vs Arena #7 (Bears)

Enbu (炎舞) (Dancing in the Flames) vs Yearning Shadows

Belfast to Byzantium vs Freedom

Set 6

The Kama Sutra of Vatsyayan vs Portraits

The Blood Mirror vs Nighthawks

Electric Fan (Feel it Motherfuckers): Only Unclaimed Item from the Stephen Earabino Estate vs "Untitled" (Portrait of Ross in L.A.)

Lady Agnew of Lochnaw vs Forgotten Dreams

Saint Bride vs Pixeles (a group of 9 works)

War Pieta vs The Sunset

The Handmaidens of Sivawara Preparing the Sacred Bull at Tanjore for a Festival vs Ajax and Cassandra

Nāve (Death) vs Abstraction

Set 7

Yes vs Meeting on the Turret Stair

Hacked to Death II vs Stańczyk

Closeness Lines Over Time vs Voice of Fire

The Maple Trees at Mama, the Tekona Shrine and Tsugihashi Bridge vs Portrait of Sir Thomas More

Survival Series: In a Dream You Saw a Way vs Takiyasha the Witch and the Skeleton Spectre

Death blowing bubbles vs The Kitchen Table Series

Painting 1946 vs In the Grip of Winter

Untitled (Black and Gray) vs NAMES Project AIDS Memorial Quilt

Set 8

Blue Plate Special vs Red Cedar

Palace of Fine Arts vs Mosque–Cathedral of Córdoba

Le Château des Pyrénées (The Castle of the Pyrenees) vs Susanna and the Elders, Restored - X-Ray

Moby Dick vs Viva la Vida, Watermelons

Venus Envy Chapter One (Of the First Holy Communion Moments Before the End) vs how to look at art

St. Sebastian vs Untitled #12

Carroña vs The invincible one

Untitled (Two Dogs) vs The Dog

SECOND HALF

Set 9

David (Donatello) vs David (Michelangelo)

The Other Side vs The Temptation of St. Jerome

Seated Woman with Bent Knees vs Starry Night

Headdress - Shadae vs Untitled for the Image Flow's Queer Conscience exhibit

Woman with Dead Child (Frau mit totem Kind) vs Les Amants (The Lovers)

Siroče na majčinom grobu (Orphan on Mother's Grave) vs You Make My World a Better Place to Find

Fighting Against SARS Memorial Architectural Scene (弘揚抗疫精神建築景觀) vs Fallingwater

Resting vs The Hull

Set 10

Olive Trees vs Worship

Glow vs Wheatfield with Crows

Study after Velázquez's Portrait of Pope Innocent X vs Untitled (He Plays Very Badly)

D.I.Y. by John Wiswell vs The Tragedy

Judith and the Head of Holofernes vs Beethovenfries (Beethoven Frieze)

The Memory of Me (How Could I Forget) vs oh god i had a really big epiphany about love and personhood but i’m too drunk for words

I am happy because everyone loves me vs 瀕危形態 (Endangered Forms)

Three Scaffolders vs Ivan the Terrible and His Son Ivan

Set 11

San Giorgio Maggiore at Dusk vs Water-Lilies, Reflection of a Weeping Willow

The Grief of the Pasha vs Monolith in Vigeland Sculpture Park

Passion vs Space Diner

Hamlet and Ophelia vs Two Earthlings

Ellen Terry as Lady Macbeth vs Seer Bonnets

Photograph from "SNAP OSAKA" Collection vs Clytemnestra after the Murder

“Untitled” (Perfect Lovers) vs The Lovers (TIE)

Kedai Ubat Jenun vs Orange Store Front

Set 12

The Apotheosis of War vs Portrait of the Dancer Aleksandr Sakharov

Julie Manet vs Mouth

The Icebergs vs Kaleidoscope Cats III

Maman vs Caza Nocturna (Night Hunt)

The Book of Kells Folio 188r: Luke carpet page vs Ardagh Chalice

Yusuf and Zulaikha vs Dome of the Rock mosaics

Rowan Leaves and Hole vs Untitled (prisonhannibal)

Le Désespéré (The Desperate Man) vs The Dedication

Set 13

Deimos vs Dog and Bridge

The Mocking of Christ vs Prudence

The Broken Column vs Siberian Ice Maiden shoulder tattoo

Transi de René de Chalon (Cadaver Tomb of René of Chalon) vs Head of Christ

The Day vs Spirit of Haida Gwaii

Eleanor Boathouse at Park 571 vs Jatiya Sangsad Bhaban জাতীয় সংসদ ভবন (National Parliament House)

Juventud de Baco (Bacchus Youth) vs Barges on the Seine

Oath of the Horattii closeup vs Visit hos Excentrisk Dam (Visit to an eccentric lady)

Set 14

Christ Crucified (With Donor) vs St. Francis

Thunder Raining Poison vs Piazza d'Italia

The Grove vs Among the Waves

Pintura Mural de Alarcón vs Sagrada Família stained-glass windows

Noonday Heat vs La Dame à la licorne (The Lady and The Unicorn)

Matroser i Gröna Lund (Sailors in Gröna Lund) vs Gielda Plakatu

Reply of the Zaporozhian Cossacks vs The Garden of Earthly Delights

Kuoleman puutarha (The Garden of Death) vs Haavoittunut enkeli (The Wounded Angel)

Set 15

i've wasted a lifetime pretending to be me vs da oracle

minus #37 vs Panel from Fun Home

Excerpt from illustrated edition of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner vs La Mort de Marat (The Death of Marat)

The Veil vs Düsseldorf 4 (Museum Kunst Palast)

Capriccio vs Zodiac calendar for La Plume

The official imperial portrait of empress dowager Cixi vs José y Maria

Blooming Lilacs vs Lágrimas De Sangre (Tears of Blood)

An Interlude vs Boy Staring at an Apparition

Set 16

Mermer Waiskeder: Stories of the Moving Tide vs The Gran Hotel Ciudad de México Art Nouveau interior

Unfinished Painting vs To Arms!

Memorial to a Marriage vs The Island

Dropping a Han Dynasty Urn vs A Few Small Nips

Saturn Devouring His Son vs Guernica

Fairy Princesses vs Lamentation over the Dead Christ

Mummy with An Inserted Panel Portrait of a Youth vs Little Girl Looking Downstairs at Christmas Party

Agnus vs The Cup Of His Murders Is Flowing Over And In His Coat Shall Be Many Curses

[333creolelady]

Lady Of The Blue Bakunawa Chp. 2

Afab! Black OC X Roman Reigns (pirate au)

Warnings: mentions of past discrimination, talks about body image.

Note: We’re still easing into things as our characters are only just getting to know one another. Things will pick up a bit more in chapter 3.

Story playlist link here <-

Alternative Playlist Here <-

Next -> chapter 3

<- Back to Masterlist

Songs this chapter : opus 36, opus 23, End title.

Alternative songs this chapter: King of Sorrow, No surprises.

Dove

“ Breakfast!”

The girl jumps from her sleep and steps out of her bed. It takes but a moment for her to remember the last few days.

“ It’s Caden M’lady”, the boy calls from behind the door.

The girl opens it and he comes in to set the breakfast down at the vanity. Her food was accompanied with water and hot coffee with sugar.

The girl shakes her head. Caden wondered why she hadn’t spoken to him yet. He wondered if she couldn’t speak or maybe something else was going on. He didn’t want to ask.

“ We eat breakfast in the mess hall and some of us eat out on deck. We eat three times a day. I’m usually on the top deck so feel free to join us ”. Caden walks to the door, stopping just at the threshold. He decided it better to leave the invitation open in case she changed her mind. He had a feeling she wouldn’t come but he didn’t want her to feel left out. “ By the way. The physician has you on 3 meals and 3 snacks a day. Says’ you need to get your strength up. If you want something you can write it down if you don’t feel comfortable talking”, Caden pulled a pin and paper from his pocket and sat it on her bed. The girl eyed it. She acknowledged him with a nod, trying her best not to be rude. He left quietly, leaving her to indulge in her food. And indulge she did.

Truthfully she felt a bit guilty eating the full hearty helping that Caden made for her. Living in Britain meant conforming to every standard the best way that she could. She didn’t have the exact same body shape of the women around her. Where she came from the women had hips and breasts—and even the ones without it were never shaped like the women in Britain. Women in the Caribbean simply carried their weight differently than European women. There wasn’t one singular look where she came from. She’d come to realize that a girl who looked like her had to make herself as small as possible by eating less, wearing constricting clothing, or adding more layers. A dress too tight and she could be accused of purposeful seduction by the wrong man. She had to take up the least amount of space possible. She bound her breast, concealed her hips and did whatever possible not to draw attention to her hair. She’d wrap it, or pull it into a bun. Wearing her hair down afforded her too many looks from curious men and glares from their wives. It was dangerous to be seen. All attention was bad attention. Yet she was weak and starving—starving enough to be put onto a meal plan. The thought alone made her reconsider if she should feel bad for nourishing herself.

Her meal filled her up just enough. The only problem was that she had nothing to do. She explored her room, looking out of the small window. The ocean was so blue here. She wondered if they were still in England and just how far away she drifted from the wreckage. Her room was quite plain so she started searching drawers. Inside she found two books. Moby dick and A modest proposal. She knew she probably shouldn’t even have shown interest in the book. Women weren’t allowed to read but her grandfather taught her in secret as a child.

Before she knew it, she was lost in moby dick. Caden had come back to find out what she wanted for lunch and saw her holding the book. She quickly threw it on the floor and sat up straighter on the bed. Caden eyed her warily.

“ You know I’m not going to arrest you for reading. We’re pirates—we’re the last people to judge”, Caden chuckled.

She wrote down what she wanted and Caden brought it to her. Apples, grapes and assortments of berries were her absolute favorites. She assumed fruit was likely limited due to their current location so she saw the meal as a real treat. Seeded breads and cheese were even better. She hadn’t eaten so plentiful in a very long while. Caden brought her more books when she wanted a break from moby dick. On the third day of her stuffing herself and reading, Caden noticed she was almost done with the three extra books he brought her.

“ You know…. We have a library. It’s small but it’s got a lot of books ”, He suggests hesitantly. The girl popped her head up in interest at that. She’d never heard of a pirate ship having a library. Maybe all the years Roman spent in his prison palace made him high maintenance.

“ The black jewel is the second largest pirate vessel on these waters. We’ve been afforded a lot more privileges since we have more space. Most of us aren’t really readers but Roman is. The doctor also keeps his medical books there. I can take you to it during dinner if you like M’lady ?”, he asks hopefully. He was really curious about this girl. He figured if he showed her more books it would push her to speak.

She nodded enthusiastically. She didn’t have the chance to read often. Most of the books in her old home were from her grandfather and uncles. Pretending she couldn’t read wasn’t really hard because most people assumed she couldn’t. Women of her status and color were told what they were supposed to do anyway.

Before dinner she freshened up and changed into another set of hand me downs. Caden came for her and showed her around. There were four levels on the black jewel. The bottom level held storage, water, supplies, ice boxes, cannon, and other miscellaneous storages. The third level held the kitchen and dining hall. The second level was the crew’s sleeping quarters. The weather deck held the captain quarters, the infirmary and the library.

When she left the crew’s quarters on the second level of the ship, she realized she was in a private room. Most of the crew had bunkbeds or hammocks with privacy curtains if needed. She must have been staying in the quarters of an officer. Many of the men whispered amongst themselves, eyeing her curiously. None of them approached her and Caden seemed to notice the way she grasped his arm tightly as he led her through the ship. Although the lower levels of the ship were narrow and cramped, it was a cleaner than she imagined. She’d heard of stories of pirates as a girl. Stinky, smelly, forceful with barely any teeth. Some of the men fit the description in some ways but most were mostly just shaggy, sun kissed, hard looking men. The ship didn’t smell like fresh roses but it wasn’t the worst she smelled. The top deck was freshly mopped and wet with salt water. This ship was twice the size of the ship she was on just a few nights ago. It was also very long.

The library was very small with a sun room, two wall to ceiling bookshelves with a protective glass case. There was a large couch and a small coffee table. There was only enough room for two people—maybe three. It was cozy and smelled of old paper and leather. This had to be the most comfortable place on the ship. Caden closed the door and she noticed notes of oak and sandle wood. This would definitely be her hiding spot. The sunlight shot rays into the room, spotlighting the dust particles in the air. She didn’t mind it.

“ Help yourself. I’ll bring you your dinner”, Caden left her to explore the book shelves.

She noticed Roman seemed to be a lover of the more philosophical books. As for her, she’d read any genre she could get her hands on. Reading was her escape. She loved to escape and think of a better world for herself. Life happened as it does and she became aware of the soul crushing weight of reality. There likely would be no great love or some grand adventure. There would be no man that would understand her as she understood herself. There would be no riches. If she was lucky there would be simplicity—a gentle husband, children and land. That’s why she agreed to leave London. At least she had her books.

She snapped out of her thoughts as Caden placed a tray of beef stew and bread on the table. There was even wine this time with her typical pitcher glass. It smelled delicious. She dug in immediately. Caden and her ate in silence. There wasn’t much he could say to a girl who refused to speak. She read dangerous liaisons as she tried to savor every bite of stew soaked bread. The wine acted as a bitter palate cleanser and the book was getting good. She nearly forgot Caden was there.

“ I’ll take your dishes and leave you to read. I have some cleaning to do anyways. I’ll come back for you in about 2 hours…sound good ?” She nodded and went back to reading her book. About an hour into her reading she book marked her page switched to another. A tap on the door startled her.

“ It’s just me. Mind if I have a seat ?”, Roman stands in the door way, hunched down to avoid hitting the ceiling.

She moves over as an invitation. She’s still tense but no longer panicked. The last two days gave her no choice but to calm down.

Roman moves his hulking frame under the door and moves into the room, closing the door behind him. He takes the lantern he’s holding and hangs it on the hook beside the door illuminating the room. He sits beside her on the couch and places what looks to be a bag of Chenet or Spanish limes beside him. They were her favorite fruit growing up and she hadn’t eaten one in over a decade. Roman noticed that she perked up when she saw them.

“ Are you going to talk to me tonight ? ”, he raised a dark brow at her. She looked at him warily.

Roman

The mousy thing in front of him eyed his fruit with determination. He found it funny how food motivated she was. Then again, she was likely starving well before her shipwreck. Lack of food variety in Britain had to be rough for anybody.

“ You answer a few questions and the whole bag is yours. I swear it ”, he smirked down at her. Her eyes shot him daggers before she nodded and leaned in for the fruit.

“ Ahp—not before you answer my first one ”, he held the bag away from her. She sat back and folded her arms.

“ What’s your name?”, he asks. He’d desperately wanted to know days ago. And now he’d finally have a name to the face that had been plaguing his every thought. She’s quiet for a moment and the irritation drains from her face. He sumizes that she might just be painfully shy, as she plays with the hem of her shirt.

“ Jane…”, she whispers. She’s so quiet he can barely hear her melodic voice. The girl looks around the room anxiously.

“ What’s that ?”

She clears her throat. “ Jane….Jane Ramlal”, she says louder. Her voice is pure honey. It’s ridiculously sweet. All the times he called her Dove was fitting.

“ Jane”, he tries the name on his tongue. He notices she becomes a bit squirmy from his voice. He assumed it to be nerves.

“ And where are you from…Jane ramlal? ”, he says quietly. He decides to match his whisper to hers. Whatever it takes to make her comfortable.

“ I’m from England…”, she says. He notices a laxness in her accent. Her mouth shapes around her words in a way that is different and peculiar. He could tell she purposely hid it, most likely because of where she was living before.

“ You’re from the Carribbean?”, He asks. Her eyes light up with questions.

“ I was born in Trinidad. How…did you..”

“ It was the way you lit up about the the Spanish limes. When I would sail into Caribbean the children ate it like candy. I was hooked the moment I tasted one. They’re my favorite and a rarity in other places”.

“ Ah….” She nods, her gaze softening at the fruit net in his hand. He gracefully hands her the bag. She immediately digs in and begins to peel one, bringing the fresh fruit to her lips and sucking. Her eyes close in contempt at the sweet yet tart flavor. Roman watches her and he can see the relief wash over her face. This might have been the happiest he’s seen her so far. As she giggles to herself as she chews with her eyes closed, he realizes he wanted to see it more. He’d never wanted to do so much for a stranger in his whole life. She eats the first fruit in just a few short minutes. She picks up another.

“ How did you end up here ? We’re you on a ship before this one ?”

She pauses for a moment, placing the fruit back in the bag. She looks down at her hands and her expression becomes pained. For a moment he regrets asking.

“ If I don’t say why will you—take away the food ?”, she asks. The expression that comes over her face is so fearful it stops his breathing for a moment.

“ I—no of course not. I would never. You may eat whatever you like on this ship. Consider the fruit a gift. Caden told me how fond you were of fruit and so I thought ….”, he trailed off. Jane rubbed her neck nervously.

A beat of silence passes.

“ There are no judgements here. If you did something wrong I’m not going to—I’m not going to punish you or anything. I just need more information. I doubt you want to stay here “, Roman explains with a fluster. He felt the need to emphasize the word “ Punish” because it seemed she expected it.

Dove

“ I was on a ship headed for America but there was an accident. It happened so fast that I can’t remember. I just remember struggling to breathe, being put on a boat and then floating”, she pauses for a moment. Oh she remembered everything. She remember everything that happened on that hell boat. She knew better than a tell a man the pain another caused her. They were known to inflict that same pain again. A woman’s pain was their fuel and permission to be the most vile monstrous things to her. They figure she's accustomed to cruelty. Why be any better?

“ I was going to a colony called Jamestown. I signed up for indentured servitude. I would serve four years as a cook and then I could be given land. I could marry…start over. At least that’s what they told me.”

They were taking people in droves from Africa and sending them to other places, one of them being America. They’ve exclusively been forcing African people to work as servants for some time. No pay, no breaks. They worked them like mules and forced them to have children. She’d rarely heard of something so horrific. Even worse—she missed that fate by the skin of her teeth. Europeans occupied Trinidad and her family were no strangers to the struggle of forced labor. She moved to England for a better life. A life of servitude—though not far removed from the atrocities of the British monarchy, it was better than chains—or so she told herself.

Roman

He noticed how she skimmed over the extreme bruising that littered her body. He figured she wasn’t ready to talk about it. He wouldn’t push any further. But that word…

Indentured…

He’s heard of that before. Some of them worked the garden grounds at the palace he grew up in. Indentured servants were convicts of some sort who spent their sentence in service.

“ And why did you sign up for it ? ”

“ I….”, she huffs in embarrassment. He peels her another lime and pushes it towards her. She takes it gratefully.

“ I was accused of stealing…”, her voice wobbles.

“ ….and did you..?”

“ No. I was accused by Lord Williams wife. She never really liked me. I stood in court. She framed me. Even when I begged and explained—it didn’t matter. None of it mattered ”, her words were rushed as if she was on trial again. Her breathing was quickened and Roman rested a hand on her shoulder. Her breath caught up enough to keep her from hyperventilating again.

“ I believe you Jane” he whispers. Her eyes soften in relief. Apart of him wonders if people not believing her was a common theme in her life. It seemed a weight was lifted off of her from those words.

“ Thankyou”, she rasps.

Roman and Jane stare at one another for a moment before she clears her throat and looks away.

“ Do you have any family ?”, He asks.

“ They’re all long gone. I have an aunt but she’s married with four children in England. It’s really just me. I live in a unit with other girls around my age. We all work for the wealthier people in Britain”, She shrugs.

“ Aaaanddd because of your sentence I’m assuming you can’t go back to England?”

“ No. My only choice was indentured servitude or jail. The prison in England was not something I wanted. But I can’t go to America either. Someone on the boat told me of what they do to people who look like me there. It was a set up. My family told me stories about that life and I didn’t want it. They knew what they were sentencing me to when they sent me away”, a ghastly look spreads across her face.

“ Well it seems we’re in a bit of a conundrum then. You can’t go back to England….can’t go to America. I doubt you’d want to go back to Trinidad with all the British soldiers occupying the island”, Roman observed.

That sets something off in Jane. “ I have nothing to my name. Not a single article of clothing or heirloom”,Jane chokes on her words, feeling her eyes twinkle with tears.

“ Just give me some time. I’ll figure something out for you. I’ve got connections. People owe me favors”, he encouraged. He noticed a stray tear streak down the side of her cheek. He gently took the back of his pointer and swiped it away from her skin. They both freeze at their first touch. Now that he could see her closer she was even more breathtaking. It didn't surprise him that some odd mistress sent her away. She was likely jealous of her and undoubtedly prejudiced. Jane pulls away, looking at the book shelf.

“ So...where are you all headed?”, she asks. Her deamenour is distant again. He didn’t like that but he supposed it was most appropriate. Maybe she didn���t believe he would truly help?

“ What are all pirates headed for? Treasure—gold, riches. Money “, he chuckled. She turned back to him inquisitively.

“ Where is it?”

“ At the edge of the universe of course.”

“ How do you get to the “edge” of the universe ?”

“ Something tells me you don’t believe me little Dove. I’m slightly offended”, Roman smirks knowingly at her. People who weren’t familiar with the sea often expressed their doubts. There was always someone trying to squander the hopes of a pirate.

“ Well…I’m more so caught on the “ edge of the universe” bit. That sounds oddly magical. That’s just make believe. The stuff you tell children for a bedtime story.”

“ l don’t believe in much but I do believe in magic Ms.Ramlal. It is very much real. You just have to know where to look”, said Roman.

“ Magic isn’t real.”

“ Well I found you…surely that’s magic, yes?”, He whispered.

Jane

Jane stared at this handsome man incredulously. She wanted to hide her face at just how much that comment made her burn. “ A coincidence. A miracle. Divine intervention.”

“ All the same Ms. Ramlal ”, he chuckled showing his perfectly white teeth. This was one good looking pirate. He had all his teeth AND they were white.

“ So how does one find the edge of the universe?”

“ To find what’s hidden one must be…lost.”, he says gruffly.

“ That’s a very …philosophical take on it ”, she chuckled. He smiled even deeper.

“ To an extent yes. But I mean just as I say. We could be heading East or West and still meet at the same point. We have to keep moving forward. Though I’m not fond of setbacks, I figured a year or less should be more than enough time.”

“ That’s a really long time to be sailing”, said Jane.

“ Ay’... But the journey is just as important as the destination. At least that’s the way I view it”, he shrugs.

“ How will you know you’ve actually reached it?”

“ Oh dove…we’ll know. You can’t miss it.”

Jane covers her mouth with a yawn. Suddenly she realized just how long she’d been up. It was already dark out.

“ I see you’re tired. Just let me get the physician in here to give you a once over before I let you retire for the night. He’s been worried about you”, Roman insists. She gives in, even though she’s weary of interacting with so many people in one day.

Dr. Earl comes in a few moments later after Roman retrieves him. He felt her skin, pressing against her neck and abdomen. He asked her questions about her eating and energy. She was well on her way to a full recovery. Her neck was healing up already and the bruises were fading. Satisfied with how the checkup went, Roman walked her back down to her cabin.

“ Thankyou for walking me back.”

“ Well I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable. I know this situation might be intimidating. Caden has been keeping a close eye on you for me. I was hoping he would make you a little bit more comfortable.”

“ He has made it a bit easier. He’s been very patient with me through this …transition.”

“ Right. Well I hope that we can come up with a solution for this problem soon. I bid you a goodnight Ms.Ramlal.”

“….Goodnight..Captain Roman ”, she curtsies briefly and they stare at each other dumbly for a moment. She didn’t have to curtsy but it was done out of habit. Eventually she walks back into her room, gently closing the door behind her. She stands behind the door for a moment, hand to the wood as she breathed for what seemed like the first time in hours. He was disgustingly charming and wickedly handsome. She could see how he got away with murder and whatever else came with being a pirate. She doesn’t know that he does the same as well, gathering his bearings behind the private wall that separates the cabin quarters from the sailors. With an exhale they both step away….

Days later….

Jane wakes from the smell of food cooking. She gets up and asks for a bin of water to wash herself. She loved how hot Caden made the water for her. In London she only had enough time for a quick wash with a shallow bowl of lukewarm water and a hunk of soap. She dreamed of having one of those lavish bathtubs with opulent smelling oils and flower petals. For now, her medium sized tin tub would do.

She changed into fresh cotton pants with a pirate blouse and vest. She made sure to pull her hair back from her face as well. She finished her morning routine with a quick wash of her teeth with tooth powder—the expensive kind. Back in London she would brush her teeth with salt, grated orange rind and absinthe. It was good enough at keeping her teeth clean and free of infection and ache. Kept them relatively white too. Tooth powder however, that was an aristocrat's bread and butter.

“ Morning M’lady. Will you be having your breakfast in the library again?” Caden asks as he pushes her tin of bath water out of the door. Jane got up and grabbed the other end of the handle. He looked grateful for the help and they dumped it into one of the makeshift toilets that led to the water.

“ I- I have no problem getting my own breakfast”, Jane spoke quietly. Part of her felt guilty for waiting so long to speak. Caden lit up.

“ You talk!”, Caden grinned. His boyish features shined through showing just how young he was.

“ Sometimes”, Jane chuckled.

“ It’s a bloody miracle. Of course—I’ll show you to the kitchen. No problem at all!”

The kitchen was hot and the lack of ventilation made it pretty smoky. Two people worked in the kitchen. An older man who looked to be in his 50’s and another man who looked slightly older. She curtsied politely at the two.

“ John and Allen, this is Jane. She came down to grab her breakfast. Isn’t she most helpful? Would beg those lazy dogs out there to get their own breakfast any day of the week”, Caden jokes. The two men removed their chef hats out of respect momentarily.

“ Pardon their quietness. They’re tongues were cut out. They can’t talk.”

Right…she almost forgot. Most of these men were convicts and it wasn’t always for small crimes. If they were punished then a cut out tongue was certainly a possibility.

“ That’s no problem at all. I’ve been enjoying your meals very much. Thankyou”, she tried her best to smile politely. They grunt in appreciation and turn back to their pots and meat chopping. An awkward silence fills the room. Jane quickly grabbed one of the plates lined up on the counter.

“ I’ll catch up with you in a moment Jane. I’ve got to get this food loaded on the cart and get it to the crew. You know your way?”

Jane simply nods and sees herself out. Most of the men don’t bother to speak to her. Some tipped their hats as they walked around the second deck busily. As she got to the top deck she realized just how busy it truly was. She had gotten so used to the way that the ship moved in the few short days she was here. They were going pretty fast, fast enough for a breeze of salt water to lightly kiss her skin. It was windy today.

“Bring a Spring Upon ‘er!”, Roman yelled at the crew. He seemed royally pissed today but Jane didn’t want to bother asking why. They make eye contact and his gaze softens and then hardens again. He nods at her in acknowledgment and she does the same as she walks into the library and closes the door. She placed her scramble on the coffee table and sighed in confusion. Why was her heart beating out of her chest from just a look? She couldn’t afford to have feelings for a pirate—it was a heartbreak waiting to happen. Everybody knew a pirate adores nothing more than the sea. He was handsome. That’s all it was. That’s all it HAD to be.

She spent the day in the library. She noticed a lot of movement on the deck. The men were loud with each other. It’s not like she wasn’t used to it. The ship she previously came from was just as loud. During lunch Caden suggested they eat on the top deck and she took the invitation. Despite the occasional stares she felt fairly comfortable with him by her side.

“ Captain found a small village to dock in. It’s where you’ll get whatever you need ”

“ Really?” She perked up.

“ Yeah. He seems to want you nice and comfortable. Many lads would kill to trade places with you right now. He’s show’n a bit of favoritism. You’re lucky to be on his good side. Pirates aren’t the most polite people”, Caden snorted.

“ Well you’re a pirate. You’ve been quite chivalrous to me. That counts?”, she chuckled.

“ I’m not quite a pirate. Not yet. I’m a cabin boy. A pirate in training if you will”

“ Ah…how old are you ?”

“ I’m fifteen years of age M’lady”

“ And how long until you become a pirate ?”

“ Whenever Cap’n Roman thinks I’m ready. For most lads it’s about 17 ”

“ I can’t believe I’m saying this but I hope it happens for you Caden”, she chuckled. It seemed taboo to wish somebody good news on their pirate career. It wasn’t exactly the most morally balanced job. However, she had no space to judge. She’s been shown more kindness on this ship than back at her old home.

Caden asked her questions about herself and she kept it fairly vague. She didn’t mention that she was charged as a criminal. She didn’t say she couldn’t go back to Europe. All those things she told Roman were in confidence. She could have lied but she didn’t. She wanted him to know the truth at that moment.

Roman interrupts their small talk. “ I’m sorry for interrupting but I need to speak with you. Can you step into my cabin please?”

“ O-Of course”, says Jane. She strolls behind him to the captain's quarters. She noticed a pattern of Roman preferring to talk in private. She didn’t mind. She preferred to be on the receiving end of his softened gaze.

His quarters are sizable. His desk sat catty cornered to the entrance of the room. A large wooden bed with a plush mattress sits at the furthest point of the room. The door to his bathroom was left open. From the front door she can see that the bathtub is clawfoot and spacious. In the middle of his quarters sat a large round table with a map and figurines. Large shelving wrapped around the perimeter of the room that held many items that Roman owned. Large windows sat on one side of the suite overlooking the water and allowed light into the room as well as a skylight. She could tell that his time as a man with status rubbed off on his taste. She adored the cleanliness too. Roman seemed to like nice things and he knew how to take care of them. He pulled back the curtains on the windows attached to his door. It seems he did that purposely to give her some comfort. It felt like an invitation to exit whenever she pleased. She wasn’t trapped—not like before.

“Ms. Ramlal, how are you?”

Roman*

There was a brightness to her that wasn’t there before. She seemed just as timid and worried but less…frigid. Less stiff. He liked that.

“ I’m doing well and you ?” She asks.

“ I’m quite pleased since I’ve found a place to dock with a lot of merchandise. We can finally get you whatever you need and some proper clothes”

“ Oh right. Of course.”

*sqwacckk* “ Pretty lady, pretty lady”

Roman sighs when he realizes Pete woke up. The parrot flew over to the desk causing Jane to startle into a chuckle. He was colorful with a large yellow beak.

“ My apologizes about Pete”

“ It’s no problem”

*squakkkk* “ M’lady, lady ”

Roman burns up with embarrassment. He was most grateful for his tanned complexion otherwise he’d be as red as a beet. “ He must have been picking up what the crew has been saying. I can take him out”

“ Oh it’s not a problem really. Hi little Pete”, she holds her arm out and the bird climbs onto her arm looking closely as if to inspect her. She chuckled, rubbing his head with the tip of her finger. Her smile melted away years of tension from his shoulders.

“ He’s never met a stranger… as you can see”

Jane just smiled at him, petting him down his back.

“ We should reach land in the next hour”

“ Are you sure ? I’m fine with my clothes.”

“ Nonsense, a woman deserves her own clothes. It’s the least we could do in such an unideal situation”, he insists.

“ You’ve been most kind…”, she trails off looking down into her lap in deep thought. Pete nuzzles into her shoulder which gets her attention. Roman wondered where her mind went whenever she got quiet.

“ We’ll be going over by paddle boat. I don’t make it a habit of docking the ship on the edge of every island in case the law is snooping around”

“ That’s fine ”, she nods, scooping Pete into her hands.

“ And I have to warn you that there will be a storm tonight. We’ll try to get ahead of it but there’s a chance we’ll likely get caught in one. There’s nothing to worry about, we’re very experienced in navigating them. Like I said before I’m not very fond of setbacks”, said Roman. She was still so quiet. He wanted more from her—more dialogue. She owed him absolutely nothing and he knew that. He convinced himself that his enchantment had much to do with her womanhood. Maybe being around so many men became mundane. Still, the crew was no stranger to the sight or the touch of a woman. On occasion they would dock and do whatever with whoever was a willing participant.

Though the men never admitted it in front of him, her beauty was a constant topic followed by how she got there. She was a mystery. That mystery made him uneasy because he was running out of time. Soon they would find a home for Jane and he would be surrounded by the grit and grime of men again. In deep thought, It takes him a moment to register the fear in her eyes. Before he can say anything she just thanks him and excuses herself out quickly. He frowns in confusion.

Jane*

She can’t do another storm but where will she go? Images of the water pooling in around her flood her memory. Being pushed further and further to the back as people filled the boats in front of her. Left for dead.

She snaps out of it and heads back to the library, sparing Caden no mind. She locks herself in until Roman retrievers her. Earl, Caden, Roman and herself all sit in the paddle boat waiting to be hoisted down to the water by rope. It took half the crew to get them down into the water. The rock of the water bobbed their bodies roughly. Caden and Roman started turning the oars in the water, propelling the boat towards land. A small village with docks and resting ships sat in the distance. There was singing, dancing, drunken men, and the sound of music. She also saw many merchants looking to make a profit.

It took them about 10 minutes to reach the shore. Jane tried to steady herself as she stepped onto the dock but Roman grabbed her hand to help her up. She smiled appreciatively at him as she pulled away, missing the burning warmth of his hand already. Roman led the way, tipping his hat to the people who greeted him. Heads turned as his hulking figure marched down the dock. Eccentric men tipped their hats at her beauty. Women held up dresses, waving them at her.

She turns to Roman. “ Have you been here before?”

“ Maybe a handful of times, why?”

“ They seem to have gotten rather lively”

“ They know cap’n is most generous”, Caden chimes in with a goofy look. Roman scruffs the boys hair, chuckling at his antics. Her eyes light up at their dynamic. They were most similar to brothers in a way. She didn’t think pirates cared much for family to even recreate it.

“ Cap’n over ere”

“ Aye aye cap’n”

“ Dresses for the lady?!”

Merchants were shouting in all directions and it overwhelmed her a bit. Thankfully the bustling streets of London made her well equipped to navigate such an environment.

Gowns made of silk, cotton and vibrant gold trimmings sparkled in her peripheral. There was jewelry of all kinds from shells, pearls, silver and rubies. Gold earrings that looked like a centerpiece in the palace of Versailles. Then she saw it in the corner of her eye, it was a light green gown embroidered with light ruffles and a built- in bodice. It flared at the bottom and was the perfect mixture between elegant and casual. The type of gown a proper lady would take on a stroll to the market with her wealthy husband. She froze when she saw it. It was presented with a matching emerald and gold necklace with earrings. Jane stills as she looks at it. The merchant is patient and doesn’t attempt to approach her.

“ Quite the beautiful dress”

Roman appears behind her and startles her a bit, yet she doesn’t attempt to turn around. She’s here for simple clothes. She shouldn’t wear anything that would make her stand out. She should stick to a brown or even a grey color. Nothing fluttery or poofy. Something flat, dull, unassuming. Roman watches her try to pretend that she’s indifferent to the dress. .

“ We’ll take that one and any other colors you have”

Jane whips around and realizes just how close he was. His ribs were nearly pressed against her back. She looks at him incredulously.

“ Sir—-Roman. You surely do not- “

“ But I shall, Miss Ramlal”

“ I- I cannot afford this and you need not—-“

“ I would be happy to gift this to you for all your trouble. Besides, a lady shan’t walk around in clothes intended for pirate.”

“What I mean is…”, she looked wildly into his fiery eyes trying to get him to understand her panic. “What I mean is that I cannot afford to pay for this in other ways”, she whispers to him urgently. Her face morphs into something of embarrassment.

Roman’s eyes light up in realization and her’s settle into shame. He’s disappointed in her response for a moment and he turns his head to watch the vendor pack four different colors of the same dress into boxes. His silence scares her for a moment. Was he disappointed in her response? Or worse…did she anger him.

“ Jane….I would never expect anything in return for something done from the kindness of my heart. I have no desire to take what you do not Intend to give. I’m not that kind of man. You are safe…..here”. Roman turns to her again with sincerity watching her watery eyes glisten at his words. She looks down at her shoes to hide her sad relief.

“ You are — “

“ Most kind …yes—to you. Now I insist you buy more and if I’m not pleased or if I feel you are holding back we will be here even longer. So you’d best be honest with your needs. Pay no mind to the expense. Do you understand Jane ?” His voice is still gentle but he’s more stern. She immediately obeys.

“ Yes si—Roman” she quips. He grins at her slowly and slides a satchel loaded with shillings into her hand before turning away. It’s heavy in her hand and when she opened it she realized she was holding the most coin she’d ever had in her entire life.

With every alarm sounding off in her brain, she brought what she needed. Combs, brushes and hair pomade. Dresses and corsets. Beautiful jewelry and shoes. Perfumes that reminded her of the salty and sweet aroma of the islands and salt covered mangoes. Each merchant was most generous, wrapping the gifts in bows and walking them to the boat that awaited her. Roman watched in the distance at how overwhelmed she was. Every now and then she’d look back at him with a puzzled expression and he’s send back an affirming one. Roman approached her when it seemed she was done. She stood looking at the pile of gifts sitting in the paddle boat. Guilt etched her face but Roman’s warning expression told her not to voice such opinion.

“ I would gift you a chambermaid but we don’t have any spare rooms for her”, his tone so matter of fact. Jane scoffs in astonishment.

“ Let’s get you back ”, Roman gently presses a hand to her back and guides her to the edge of the boat. He helps her in as Earl finishes his medicinal purchases. Caden loaded the boat with food and supplies. Jane sits at the front with her chin in her hands staring out at the water. She flinches at Roman’s generosity in her mind. She didn’t want to come off ungrateful but he refused to accept her declines. As she stared at the beautiful boxes beside her, a small part of her gushed at the thought of obtaining such beautiful things. She’d bought things she could only dream of owning. She’d hold her breath and hope that he meant what he said to her.

—————

Thanks for reading. ALL reblogs of this post will receive a link to the sneak peak of next week’s chapter. ❤️

[rivermask]

Tumblr Book Clubs I am Currently Following, in order of how hard I think they would be to catch up on if you wanted to join the fun:

Around the World Hourly (Around the World in Eighty Days with entries sent according to the in-story hour of events, started Oct 2)

The Public Domain Book Club (started Frankenstein for the month of October on Oct 1)

Lord of the Rings Newsletter (started late September with some very long posts, but will be variable length as they follow the dates of events in the story)

Dracula Daily via Re:Dracula (chronological Dracula by Bram Stoker - OK, you've missed most of this one, but the audio format is very engaging - you could still catch up for the exciting conclusion!)

My Dear Wormwood (The Screwtape Letters by CS Lewis - 22 short letters so far, posted on a weekly basis)

What Manner of Man (original vampire romance by St John Starling - 24 shortish and very fun chapters so far, posted on a weekly basis)

Whale Weekly (Moby Dick by Herman Melville with roughly chronological timescale - we're 70-some chapters in but there are often long breaks between them so you could probably catch up)

Les Mis Letters (a chapter of Les Miserables by Victor Hugo every day for a year - catch-up difficulty level: impossible)

Please add your own!

[firestorm09890]

near the end of Canto V Part 2 it got VERY obvious that Ishmael was acting like Captain Ahab and Dante even pointed it out but there were also some less obvious parallels earlier:

Ishmael wasn't around at the beginning of Part 1. In Moby Dick, Ahab remained unseen for a long time, stewing in his cabin until the ship had already been at sea for several days.

sharpening their fucked up harpoons for far longer than is healthy

at the beginning of Part 2, Ishmael stared at her reflection in the water and mused to herself. This is exactly what Ahab did in the 4th-to-last chapter of the book, right before the crew actually encountered the titular whale

[probably-an-alien]

All you dickheads out there need to listen to Higgledy-Piggledy Whale Statements!

It's such a great podcast. Each episode the hosts Ben Klug and Mark Sokolov analyse one or a couple of chapters from Moby-Dick and go really in-depth on so many of the details and deeper themes in the text.

Here's a link to episode 01: