#but it's not a whale - you head up to the deck and you see him standing by the railing typing frantically into his laptop

[opaleyedprince]

thinking abt my ocean wip

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Wary Sailor Pt. 1 | Matthew Joy x fem!reader

summary: While aboard the whaling ship Essex, Matthew Joy is startled awake. Leaving the safety of his hammock, he encounters a woman lost at sea. What will his decision to save her cost him in the end?

warnings: Brief nudity and mentions of potential sexual assault/violence. This part is mainly Matthew being a good guy. We have a slow burn for this series, guys.

word count: 1646k

It's Been a Long, Long Time - Kitty Kallen, Harry James 🎶

Sea, Swallow Me- Cocteau Twins, Harold Budd 🎵

Based on Cillian's character from In the Heart of the Sea (2015).

Sorry I've been so inconsistent and thank you for still readying and engaging. I really appreciate it 🖤

It is dark, the world is dark, and the sea is at war with itself. Matthew’s hammock swings hard right suddenly, lurching him awake. He tries to focus his eyes in the darkness of the hold, the familiarity of it still comforting after weeks onboard. He’d practically grown up on a whaling boat like the Essex. Living and sleeping on a boat had become second nature, which is why Matthew wondered what could have woken him up so suddenly. The boat always rocked, his hammock often swung from side to side, but this time he woke up. 

Looking around as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Matthew watched his men sleep around him, their snores similar to those of a whale call. Matthew listened out for calls of distress or whatever else could have woken him up. Besides the scrambling of a rat or two, the Essex was quiet and still. Still feeling uneasy, Matthew climbed down from his hammock and pulled on his boots and heavy jacket. He could see his breath in front of him as he climbed the slanted steps to the top-deck. The cold Atlantic water surrounded him on all sides, only the walls of the ship separated him from them, and yet he felt secure. 

Matthew’s blue eyes glowed beneath the full-moon like colored diamonds, sparkling in the slants of moonlight. His shaggy brown hair shifted around his head in the strong gusts of wind. Matthew surveyed the deck, pulling his jacket closer and turning back. Everything looked as it should, waves lashed against the boat and the spray of salt water refreshed his face, everything was normal. As Matthew turned to return to his hammock, he heard a faint but distinct whispering behind him. Spinning around, Matthew expected to see someone standing there. When he turned, however, he was alone on the deck. 

“Hello?” He called out into the dark. 

“Hello.” A woman’s voice spoke quietly.

Matthew spun around, looking for the source of the woman’s voice. 

“Is someone out there?” Matthew asked, his eyes darting around in the darkness of the deck.   

“Yes,” the woman’s voice spoke again after a moment of eerie silence. Matthew froze, his eyes trained on the edge of the railing. He took a step closer, his brow furrowed in apprehension and bewilderment. 

“Who are you?” His voice pierced the noise of the waves and echoed over the rail. He put out his hands to feel for the rough edge and caught it as the boat rocked beneath him. There was no response. 

“Where are you?” He asked instead. His dark brown hair whipped around his face and his thin cotton blouse danced beneath his jacket. 

“Down here,” the woman’s voice finally reached him, “over the edge.” 

“What the fuck?” Matthew groveled and forced himself to look. Alone in the sea below, a woman was treading water breathlessly. Beautiful dark hair stuck to her face and ballooned around her shoulders in the water. Her skin was deathly pale and she looked sickly and weak. Matthew heard himself gasp softly and grabbed a band of rope without another thought. 

“Christ, hold on! I’m throwing down some rope!” He yelled down to her and lowered a length of it, tying the rest to a hook on the deck’s railing. “Tie it around yourself!” His cockney accent tinted the words he said but the girl nodded and managed to loop the cord around her waist. Matthew swiftly pulled the girl up to the railing where he could hook his arms around her. As he pulled her over the railing, they stumbled backwards onto the deck, both landing on their backs with sharp gasps.

Matthew sat up quickly and untied the rope from the girl’s waist. She was shivering beneath him and cold to the touch. 

“How the hell did you end up in the water?” Matthew asked her as he tossed the rope to the side and removed his heavy jacket. She started to sit up and allowed the man to wrap his jacket around her and prop her back up against the side of the railing. His heavy hands passed over her chest, wrapping the dry fabric around her. Her skin glowed white in the inky darkness around them. 

“I fell overboard and it was dark, no one could see me,” she whispered as she tried to catch her breath. 

“Which ship?” Matthew asked and looked out at the dark horizon as if he could spot a passing ship. The girl stared wordlessly up at him,

“You’re in shock,” Matthew consoled her and nodded. He was fully awake now and disturbed by the way his night had gone so far. Something felt wrong about this whole situation. 

“Thank you for helping me,” she met his eyes for the first time that evening and held his attention. Her voice was calm, strangely so, Matthew noticed. He nodded slowly. 

“Don’t thank me yet, miss. Do you know what kind of ship you’re on?” He lowered his voice and glanced around. 

“No,” she furrowed her brow and sniffed. 

“You’re on a whaling ship. The men aboard haven’t even seen a woman in about a year… this is a dangerous place for you to be, miss.” Matthew ran his hand over his mouth and tried to think quickly. “If someone were to see you… it may not be possible to keep you safe until we can find the boat you were on before you fell. We can speak to the Captain,” Matthew started to stand. 

“Wait, please.” The girl grabbed his forearm weakly. He lowered himself back to her level. 

“What is it?” Matthew asked her softly, feeling as though he were melting beneath her eyes. The girl reached out her other hand and gripped the neck of his blouse, her fingers intertwining with the tie on his lapel. 

“What is your name?” She asked softly and licked her chapped lips. Matthew raised his eyebrow and paused briefly to study her. Her chest rose and fell softly beneath his jacket, her breasts could be seen through the wet fabric of her dress. He tried to ignore the way her dress was hitched up at her knees, sticking to her legs and dripping water onto the deck between them. 

“Matthew Joy,” he answered her slowly and placed his hands on the sides of her shoulders. “Are you alright, love?” He furrowed his brow as she nodded. Her skin was freezing, so he rubbed his hands up and down her arms in an attempt to warm her up. 

“How long were you in the water?” He asked. 

“All my life,” she gave him a small smile, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight. 

“What?” Matthew narrowed his eyes and felt her forehead with the back of his hand. “You’re still in shock, I better go get the captain. Stay right here, love. I’ll be back.” 

As Matthew started to stand the girl grabbed him again, this time by the hem of his shirt. The fabric was clutched in her pale fist. She looked up at him through her long eyelashes. He was standing above her as spoke. 

“Wait…” 

Matthew listened as she swallowed and started again. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me what my name is?” Her lips looked purple in the light of the moon and her wet hair was stuck around her in waves of glossy blackness. She looked like a goddess, a wave, a dream. 

“What’s your name?” He asked her slowly and she smiled, showing a line of straight white teeth. 

“Y/N.” 

Matthew nodded distractedly and cleared his throat. 

“Y/N, stay here while I get help, right?” He stepped away from her and she dropped the hem of his shirt. She watched Matthew as he turned and hurried to wake Owen and the Captain. He may be the best whaler on the ship but he deferred to Owen on anything administrative. The Captain was a uniform he had to respect. 

“Matthew Joy!” The girl called out before he made it to the stairs below deck. He turned, his hair blowing into his blue eyes. The girl was curled up in the further shadow of the railing. He waited for her to speak. 

“Do you believe in Sirens?” She asked strangely and he felt himself take a deep breath, confused. He noticed the sky in the distance begin to lighten as the sun was close to rising. The light made everything look greenish, almost aquamarine. 

“What…” he trailed off. His hair flew into his face again, blocking his sight. When the wind passed, he drew in a breath to respond. The girl was gone. Matthew scrambled back to the place where the girl had just been. He looked over the side and in the ocean below but there was no sign of her. A chill spread through his body as he straightened up. 

A bell sounded from the crow’s nest down the ship. The call for whale’s went up and noise erupted from below deck. 

“Pods! Pods of whales!” A sailor screamed. Matthew stood dumbly, staring over the edge of the boat, not looking for the whales but watching for the girl. 

“Y/N…” he whispered distractedly. 

He couldn’t have been dreaming. His jacket was gone and a puddle of cold water stood in her place. A hard clap on the back startled him and he released a nervous chuckle when he saw that it was just Owen. 

“Did you see ‘em?” Owen asked with a wide grin. 

“No, no,” Matthew shook his head and rested his elbows on the surface of the railing. As the sun rose, the blue in his eyes magnified against the ruddy orange in the sky. His thumbs pushed against his full lips and he exhaled slowly, trying to capture an image of her in his mind. What kind of creature was she?

...

End of Pt. 1

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋

summary: a siren attack is already unfortunate, but it's worse if it also reveals some truths about your insufferable crew mate

pairing: pirate! hawks x gn! pirate! reader

warnings: just a silly drabble to get back into writing and exorcise some of my hawks brainrot; a little suggestive at the end

general masterlist || bnha masterlist

Getting stuck on the same ship as Takami Keigo was one of life’s most torturous challenges. At least for you. He was obnoxiously arrogant and, much to your chagrin, people flocked to him like seagulls to a forgotten loaf of bread. 

Sure, your fellow pirate was quite easy on the eyes and rather charming when he wanted to be;  a truth you would only ever admit in the comfort of your own head, lest you inflate his ego even further. Instead, you rather grumbled to yourself, cursing his name for getting to sit pretty in the crow’s nest while you sat on deck and mended a torn net.

“Having fun down there?” If the devil ever spoke to you, you were sure he would mimic the grating lilt of Keigo’s melodic voice. “You know, I’m pretty sure a whale could swim through the holes you’re leaving.”

He was your crew mate, he was an essential part of the expedition, you couldn’t just shoot him down. 

“At least one of us is doing their job,” you deadpanned, not even giving him the satisfaction to look up. “You know, I think an island could sneak up on us with how distracted you are.”

“Oh you think you’re distracting me?” Even with your eyes trained on the cords in your hands, you could picture the cocky tilt of his head, a dashing grin playing around his lips. “Is that the kind of effect you want to have on me?”

“You’re the one who’s always coming up to bother me, so if anything you’re the one who’s obsessed with me.” If this conversation went on for any longer, your medic would have to patch up a popped vein on your part.

“Ah there is that wishful thinking again,” he laughed and this time you glared up at his silhouette standing out against the blinding sun. As always, he wore loose beige pants and the top buttons of his black shirt were undone, showing more of his toned chest than you needed to see. His black boots were propped up against the nest’s railing and the crimson head scarf fluttering in the breeze matched the earring dangling from his left lobe.

Just as you were about to retort, another shadow against the sun caught your attention. Drawing your pistol, you undid the safety, alerting the rest of the crew that there was something coming.

But before you could see what exactly was approaching, you suddenly lost your balance as the ship developed a heavy list. Grabbing onto the mast of the crow’s nest, you managed to steady yourself, yet the impact knocked the revolver from your grip. As you looked up, the first thing you saw was the massive cliffs your ship was heading towards, sharp rocks littering the waters, waiting to demolish its wooden bottom. 

Then your eyes locked on to the crew’s navigator, whose head lulled from one side to the other as he firmly steered you towards your demise. Next to him, holding his attention, was a beautiful woman sweetly tracing a finger along his jaw as she sang to him. As a feather drifted past your eyes, it suddenly hit you what -or who- exactly you were dealing with.

“Cover your ears!” You shouted to no one in particular as you scrambled for the wax you had stuffed into your pocket. With your hearing muffled, your own heartbeat raced in your ears as you dove for your pistol and breathlessly aimed for the siren attached to your navigator, who by now was half way towards the ship’s railing, his feet dragging underneath him as the woman lured him further towards the water.

You weren’t sure if your bullet was enough to actually kill the siren but upon impact it dissolved into a burst of feathers and released its hold on your crew mate, who dazedly blinked as he tried to regain his senses.

The next few minutes were a blur of talons, feathers and pulling your crew back from the ship’s edge, even tying some of them to the masts to make sure they wouldn’t try to kill themselves again.

Soon enough, however, you were out of bullets and you reluctantly drew the dagger previously secured to your thigh, scanning the area for more sirens when someone tapped your shoulder. Whirling around you slashed your dagger in an arc around you, only to find Keigo standing in front of you, holding up his hands innocently. There was an easy going smile on his face as he said something you couldn’t understand, so you removed one of the wax beads restricting your hearing.

And that was your mistake.

Only a few heartbeats after his velvety voice reached your ears, your dagger clattered onto the deck as Keigo reached out to unplug your other ear as well, his fingers grazing your cheek with nails much sharper than you expected. You wondered if his lips would be as plush as you imagined them to be or if his hair would be as soft as it looked when you buried your fingers in it.

His amber eyes were trained entirely on you as he gave you a coy gaze, inviting you to take another step towards him, to find out for yourself, to sate your curiosity. Likewise, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him either as your feet followed his graceful movements, the light reflecting of his golden hair like a halo, the crimson wings on his back completing his angelic appearance—

Then, Keigo dissolved into a burst of those same scarlet feathers as two sharp swords sliced through his torso. For a moment, you thought you had imagined it when the same face came back into view again.

With full force, the noise of the ship reached you again and you staggered backwards at the sudden onslaught of stimuli. Around you, the crew was running around, untying people and frantically steering the ship back onto the right course as you raced to regain your bearings, disoriented by the orders being bellowed around you.

“That should be the last of them,” Keigo ripped you from your daze, his voice clearer as the sea as he sheathed his swords again. “Nasty creatures, those sirens. Though I guess this one was a handsome fellow, considering you were dazedly mumbling my name on your way overboard.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line when your brain caught up to your current situation. Perhaps the siren had been taken care off, yet you were still tempted to throw yourself head first over the railing. Justifiably so, you thought when your eyes darted to the man’s face long enough to confirm the self-satisfied expression he was wearing.

“I am quite flattered really,” he mused, one hand reaching out to tilt your face up so you’d meet his eyes as he stepped closer to you. For a split-second, the thought that it was still a siren in front of you crossed your mind. “To think that a siren would choose to wear my face in an effort to seduce you… now isn’t that quite the compliment?”

“Just… shut up and let me die in peace, would you?” You rolled your eyes, ready to retreat into your little cabin and try to grapple with your near-death experience, this confrontation included. If only the rocky spikes had ripped open the bottom of the ship, you could sink to the sea floor in quiet solitude.

“No no no, why would you do that when you can stay right here with me? C’mon just see it as my reward for saving your precious life, treasure.” He sent you a cheeky wink, drawing your attention to the sharp slant of his eyes and your heart, the treacherous thing, skipped a beat. 

“Is your idea of a reward torturing me further? Or what could you possibly get out of this?” Your shoulders sacked with your sigh, resigning to your defeat. 

“What I’m getting out of this? It’s quite obvious isn’t it?” Slinging an arm around your hanging shoulders, Keigo pulled you flush to his side. Warmth and the scent of salt mixed with something woodsy radiated off of him and you could admit this wasn’t the worst position to be in. “Believe it or not, I do enjoy your company.”

“That is hard to believe, you’re right.” You cocked your head in suspicion. “Normally you do everything to get under my skin, so what changed?”

“Hmm, I wonder why that is,” Keigo’s melodic timbre lilted before transitioning into his typical pearly laughter. Then, as if sharing a secret, he leant down so his lips were dangerously close to your ear, his voice dropping low. “You know, you weren’t the only one visited by a siren. As tempting as that version of you looked, I must say I prefer the real deal.

“Do you think I could get you to sing for me as well?”

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[thus-spoke-lo]

A Ride for a Ride // slimeball taxi driver!Zoro x f!reader // NSFW [minors DNI] Written for @bastardblvd's Slimeball Collab

Summary: It's 3am and walking home from your shitty job at the diner seems like a drag, so you call a cab, hoping for a quick trip back to your apartment so you can finally catch some sleep. Your moss-haired, muscle-bound, directionally-challenged cabbie definitely gives you a ride you didn't expect. CW: scumbag!zoro; afab!reader [no gendered pronouns used]; references to sexual harrassment from a certain curly-browed co-worker; dubcon elements [reader under duress]; degradation [ex. use of slut, whore, etc]; oral sex [m receiving]; vaginal sex; creampie WC: 3.3k

It’s 3:00 a.m, and your shift is blessedly over. The crisp air outside Franky’s Flapjack Shack is nipping at your skin; your head aches and your feet are throbbing, your unsupportive sneakers that are close to falling apart barely able to keep up with the demands of the late-night post-bar crowd combined with avoiding the gropes and glances of that damn curly-browed line cook who can’t seem to keep his hands to himself.

The walk home feels untenable, your ankles ready to give out and a chill quickly making its way under your sweater. You sigh and pull your phone from your pocket, dialing the number of the local cab company. It would be a luxury, and one you’d probably regret indulging in since it was still a few days from payday, but anything would be better right now than trying to propel your worn-down body through the dark city streets all the way to your apartment.

And so you wait. And wait. And wait. You glance at your phone—the cab company said the closest operator was only a few blocks away, what the hell was taking them so long? You glance back down at your phone, absentmindedly watching a video of a McDonald’s manager getting decked over a wrong nugget order, when you hear—and smell—something coming your way.

An absolute whale of an old sedan shudders its way down the block, the yellow headlights dim, the tires looking like they’re just one hard turn from falling off completely. It comes to a whining halt in front of you, as the window rolls down and smoke billows out. The stub of a cigar lands on the ground in front of you, embers scattering at your feet.

You cough and sputter, waving away the smoke to get a glimpse of the person you’re already regretting entrusting with your life tonight. Through the haze, a muscled arm hangs out the open window, the sleeve of a white t-shirt straining against a bulging bicep. The smoke finally clears, and you see man with green hair and a tanned complexion turn towards you, three gold earrings swaying as he does, and your eyes flit over his face. Even considering the awful, lingering cigar stench and the ramshackle car, he could easily still be a contender for one of the city’s most eligible bachelors.

“Lemme guess, you’re worried about this?” he says, pointing towards his closed left eye, a long scar running over it.

“No, I was more worried about that.” You point towards the front of his car, as streams of smoke escape from underneath the hood.

“Ah, it’s fine. Does that all the time.” He slaps the car door. “Come on, you gonna get in or did I come all the way here for nothin’?”

“It does that all the time…?” you trail off under your breath as you place your fingers on the door handle, wavering between getting on the back of this trash heap and praying to whatever gods might listen, or running back inside the restaurant and calling another cab. You glance back at the Flapjack Shack and see that idiot line cook standing at the window watching you, practically salivating, and decide to take your chances with the moss-haired cabbie rather than risk getting your ass pinched one more time tonight.

You climb in the backseat behind him and pull the door shut, giving it a few vigorous tugs before the rusty hinges will allow it to fully close. Your hands instinctively fumble for a seatbelt only to realize…there aren’t any. “Hey, so, um, how do I strap in?”

“Strap in?” He glances at you in the rearview mirror with his good eye. “What for?”

“You know what? Never mind.” You take a deep breath and press your lips together. You glance up as he fiddles with the radio, and you notice three large katanas sitting in the passenger seat, carefully secured with a pillow behind them and some sort of cushion attached to the seatbelt that holds them in place, their hilts glimmering in the neon lights from the restaurant. “Hey cabbie, uh—what are those for?”

“Call me Zoro, none of that ‘cabbie’ shit,” he grouses, loosely gesturing to the card taped to the back of the passenger seat with his name and photo. “And what are what for? My swords?”

“Yeah…”

“They’re for protection.”

“Protection from what?” you squint.

“So where am I taking you?” he asks, almost cutting off the end of your sentence as the engine revs and the car slowly comes to life again.

That’s how it’s gonna be, got it. You quickly rattle off your address as your eyes remain fixed on the swords.

“Alright, gotcha.” He chuckles, and the car stutters off into the night “Don’t you worry, sweetheart. You’ll be home in no time. They don’t call me the world’s greatest cabbie for nothin’.”

You quickly fish your phone out of your bag, distracting yourself from the low hum of some weird sea shanty playing on the radio and the fact that Zoro’s gaze seems to be focused more on observing you in the rearview mirror than it does the road, as you careen around corners and run at least three red lights (that you counted). The battery ticks down and down as you scroll away, the grip on your phone growing ever more desperate as you brace yourself on the back of his seat at yet another stop sign that “came out of nowhere.” It isn’t until you start a new game of solitaire that you realize—it’s been an awfully long ride. Your apartment wasn’t that far away—the pervert line cook gave you a ride home one time and it only had to have taken about twenty minutes before you reached your apartment and your limit for terrible pickup lines.

“Hey cab—I mean Zoro,” you ask tentatively. “Are we almost there? Feels like we’ve been driving a while.”

He glares at you from the front seat as he accelerates through a yellow light. “Oh, what, are you saying I don’t know where I’m going?”

“No, of course not!” An anxious laugh exits your lungs. “I guess we’re just taking the scenic route, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, this is the most direct route. I drive it all the time. They don’t call me the—”

“The world’s greatest cabbie,” you echoed. “Right, right. Sorry.”

You lean your head against the window and sigh, resigning yourself to watching silently as you pass the same streetlights, the same run-down convenience store, and the same skateboarders that Zoro almost mows down again and again. The battery on your phone finally heaves its last breath, and you toss it back in your bag, wondering if it would be bad form to open the car door and simply launch yourself onto the pavement at this point—surely you’d end up with less scrapes and bruises than you’d already accumulated from his sloppy cornering and his affinity for hitting the brakes with all his might.

“See? I told you I knew where I was going,” Zoro says as he finally—mercifully, blessedly—pulls up in front of your apartment building, the car practically convulsing as it slows to a halt, a loud knocking sound coming from the engine. He taps the meter and your eyes widen—your little detour around the city was going to cost you a pretty penny, but it was better than walking alone at night…wasn’t it?

You dig through your bag, scrounging around through wadded up receipts and half-full packs of gum, and your heart starts to race as you move items around more frantically, a sense of dread settling in your bones as you come to a realization.

“Oh god I—I don’t have my wallet.”

He turns fully around in his seat, his hot, acrid breath blowing directly on you. “What the hell do you mean you don’t have your wallet? Why’d you call for a ride if you didn’t have your damn wallet?”

“Well I thought I had it! I must have left it at work.” You chew your lip as your heart pounds away under your stained corporate-issue polo shirt. “Do you take app payments?”

“Do I look like I take apps, sweetheart?”

“Just let me run upstairs, I’m sure I have cash stashed somewhere. I-I promise, I’ll come right back.”

“Oh no, honey.” Zoro shakes his head. “I’ve heard that one too many times. Some sweet little thing says they’ll pay and then I never see ‘em again. I’m not falling for that. You are gonna pay me for this ride”—he leans closer, your noses almost touching—“one way or another.”

Your trembling hands ball into fists, pressing firmly into the ripped seat cushions as your mind raced, trying to think of a solution. Running wasn’t an option—you didn’t expect that a man who carried three katanas did it just for show, and even if he did, someone with his kind of powerful build could easily bring you down like a prey animal in a heartbeat. Your gaze flits over his face, noticing a certain predatory glint in his eye, a hunger lingering on the upturned corner of his lips. A man like him, you reason, can be persuaded with the right type of offer.

“Alright fine,” you finally blurt, steadying yourself, “I can think of a way to pay you.”

He cocks his head to the side, his earrings swaying with his movement. “And that is…?”

You bite your lip shyly, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes in your best approximation of a seductive glare. “Well…do you wanna move those swords or do you wanna come back here with me?”

He laughs, and gives you a condescending cluck of his tongue. “So you really think that’s gonna work, huh?”

Fuck. A shuddering breath leaves your lips as you start to realize there was no escape. “It was worth a try.”

“Hey, hey, I didn’t say no, sweetheart,” Zoro says softly as his hand drifts back and paws at your knee. “Scoot over.”

You pulse starts to shake your entire body as he exits the car; he slowly creaks the passenger door open, and you catch a glance of him from the waist down, all powerful thighs and a very clear bulge in the front of his pants. The car rocks as he slides in beside you and, he pulls the door shut with little effort, the rusted hinges screaming as it slams behind him. He turns to you, a lascivious smile stretched across his lips, and wordlessly slides his trousers down to his ankles. A gasp leaves your mouth before you can stop it as you see his cock for the first time, thick and pulsing, backlit by the dim yellow streetlight. He lets out a soft groan as he strokes himself lazily with one hand, his muscled thighs tensing with every movement.

“Well?” he rasps as you watch him slowly run his palm up his length. “You just gonna stare at it, or you wanna do something with it, hm?”

“Right,” you murmur as you blink and try to focus on the task at hand—this was your idea after all, sort of. As you looked him over, his forearm tensing as he fucked his fist for you, his bicep twitching in the low light, the smooth ripple of his abs visible as he held his shirt up, you felt a spark ignite at the base of your spine

You squeeze down onto the floorboards, and maneuver yourself next to him, your chest resting against his steely thigh, one arm hooked around his leg for support. He moves his hand aside and you grasp him firmly at the base as he swells in your palm. You crane your neck to lick a thick stripe up the underside of his shaft, flicking your tongue against the underside of the head; he hisses in response, leaning his head back, his hips lifting a bit off the seat. You swirl your eager tongue around the tip, lavishing it with gentle licks and kisses, finding yourself enjoying your perverted tryst a little too much, as a heat begins to build between your legs.

You press your thighs together as you wind your tongue up and down his shaft, before finally taking him in your lips. Zoro groans as your warm mouth envelops him, and his hand grasps your shoulder to anchor himself. He swells and pulses as you slowly draw him in and out of your warm, wet mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you reach the tip; with every pull, his breaths grow quicker and more ragged, his groans deeper and longer. He slides his hand to the back of your head and holds you in place as he pushes himself down your throat, forcing rivulets of spit to dribble out of your mouth and onto his thigh, puddling on the worn upholstery under him. As breathing becomes more difficult and you begin to squirm against him, he removes his hand and you quickly pull back and gasp for air, strings of saliva still connecting you to his glistening, spit-coated cock.

His chest rises and falls with harsh and uneven breaths as he stares down at you. “Don’t think you get to stop yet, sweetheart. You still owe me, and I’m starting to think your mouth isn’t gonna cut it.”

“What do you want then?” you pant as you wipe drool from your chin, knowing full well what he expected next, but still wanting to hear it from his perverted mouth.

A debauched grin spreads across his face as he says slowly, “A ride…for a ride.”

“A ride for a ride,” you mutter back after a moment, as you start to pull your shoes off. You yank your polyester work pants down your sticky, sweat-laden legs, tossing them on the grimy floor, and steady yourself on his broad shoulders as you straddle his lap. A shaky sigh leaves your lungs as he reaches down and runs the head of his cock through your folds, collecting the slick that coats your sensitive slit.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Zoro grunts as he positions himself against your pulsing entrance. “I’d almost say you’re enjoying this more than I am—aren’t you, you little whore?”

“Shut up,” you spit as you grimace, starting to feel him push into you, the head teasing your wet, needy hole. “Don’t call me that.”

“Aw, why not?” His voice was dripping with a condescension that made you quiver. “Do you prefer ‘slut’ instead?”

A sharp gasp claws its way up your throat in response as you ease your way down onto him, feeling how he stretches you as he grasps your waist and slides you down his thick shaft until you envelop him completely. You lean against the back of the driver’s seat as you start to roll your hips, feeling the car begin to rock along with your movements, gentle waves that match your rhythm against him.

“Fuck, that’s good,” you whimper as you fuck yourself on him, feeling a coiling tension building inside you as his veiny cock fills you completely with every movement, pulsing and throbbing with every flutter of your walls. There is something deliciously intoxicating about how wrong everything feels—fucking this muscled pervert in exchange for a ride in his rusted-out car, just yards away from the safety of your apartment, in the dim light of the streetlamps where anyone could wander by and see the steam coating the windows and the slow rocking of the vehicle. It all feels disgusting, and revolting, and the indignity only makes you want it even more.

You’re so lost in a haze of your own pleasure you don’t even feel his hand drifting down from your waist, his fingertips brushing against your mound, and only take notice once the rough pad of his thumb begins to make circles over your aching clit. You moan wantonly and shudder as bolts of pleasure shoot through you, quickly bringing you closer and closer to the edge of your release.

“You like that, don’t you?” he rasps as he flicks his thumb over your swollen bundle of nerves. He slides his free hand up your waist and under your shirt, roughly pulling down your bra, rolling your pebbled nipple between his fingers. “Like that big cock filling you up while I play with you like this, hm? Greedy little whore.”

“Oh Zoro,” you whine as your hips move faster, grinding against him with what little muscle strength you have left as your whole body begins to feel heated and you’re ready to snap like a wire wound too tightly.

“That’s it,” he whispers as you start to shake and your needy cunt contracts around him. “Cum on this cock you fuckin’ slut.”

You cry out shamelessly as you dig your fingers into his shoulders, gripping him tightly as you quake around his cock, your body wracked by a blood-rushing climax. Zoro moans quietly as your pulsating spasms of pleasure grip him and pull him in deeper, and his large hands sink into the plushness of your hips, holding you steady as he starts to fuck up into you. He wraps his powerful arms around your back and pulls you against him, holding you tightly against his chest; he pistons into you with sloppy, erratic thrusts, hitting you so deep it send little sparks of pain through your core, the kind that start to feel like pleasure once you get used to it. His breaths suddenly become quick and shallow, and you feel his thighs tensing under you as he buries himself inside you over and over.  

“Fuck baby—so fuckin’ good, gonna cum in this fuckin’ tight little pussy.” A long, low groan echoes in the small space as he bucks his shuddering hips, and he spills himself into you with pulse after pulse of his aching cock. He rocks up into you slowly, almost gently, as he rides out the last waves of his orgasm, and short, heated breaths ghost the sensitive skin of your neck.

As you cling to him, burying your face in his sinewy shoulder while you both work to fill your lungs fully again, the car starts to move under you, and it suddenly tilts to one side with a loud metallic groan. Zoro grunts and flings the car door open, with you still on top of him, his cum leaking out of you and into his lap, and cranes his head around the side of the car.

“Shit,” he says as he slams the door shut again. “Damn tire fell off.”

“Something else that happens all the time?” you mutter, your eyebrow raised as you take the opportunity to carefully lift yourself off him, warm rivulets of his spend and your arousal making their way down your thighs.

He snorts a laugh. “I like you. You’re funny.”

“Gee, you’re too kind, Zoro.” You sit next to him, soaking the already-filthy upholstery as you lean down to gather your pants and your bag from the floorboards, when his large hand grips your wrist.

“Where you think you’re going?” he growls.

You turn towards him, your arm frozen in his steely grip. “Uh…home?”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” He runs his tongue over his lower lip as he reaches down and unhurriedly palms his softening cock, still lubricated with a mix of your fluids.

“And why not?” you murmur as you suck your lower lip between your teeth and bite down so hard you almost draw blood, your chest heaving as you watch his movements.

“Because,” he rumbles as he smacks your thigh and watches your plush flesh jiggle under his wide palm, “you owe me for a tire now, too.”

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 21

MASTAPOST credit to @adonneniel, @brekitten and @bucketorandomness for all their help brianstorming. The scene with bruce has been a long time coming!

Walter Wekapipo puffed his second cigar of the day. Puff. Puff. Smoke filled his lungs, taking the edge off. Just another cold, damp day on a cold whaling boat in the middle of nowhere.

The captain shouted his orders. Walter got to it. He trawled to the back and grabbed some rope. He heaved. He hauled. The whale they got was a small one. Probably a baby. Should leave it alone. Let it grow big, but captain’s orders.

See, Walter saw himself as a morally complex man. You, dear readers, may consider him with disdain, He is a whaler! You may say. They are endangered species, you continue. And these are very valid points, for which this narrative will not only not judge you but appraise you for.

And Walter considered these points too. Sure they were pretty creatures, but they could always make more. People have been huntin’ whales for centuries. Millennia even. How could you blame him for needing to make a livin’?

No, who you should blame, Walter thought, was the rich pricks out on the East Coast. The assholes who run around in Armani and Gucci and drive fancy cars and do big speeches about the environment and then sneak off to Japan to try whale meat and raw horse. Bleugh.

What he could do with that kinda money…

But he didn’t have that kind of money, and you know? Mama always told him he needed to be happy first with what he got. So Walter picked up his harpoon gun, and dragged his feet to the side of the boat. A whale surfaced. There she was. Huge, meaty, tonnes of oil. Crying out like a bitch too. He remembered his mama crying out like a bitch every single day, till they institutionalised her. Poor mama.

Maybe in a better life, he wouldn’t be out here killing whales illegally. Walter didn’t really have the heart to fire the thing. Not really. But captain’s orders. And it was this or the streets.

Walter flicked his cigarette into the water. Time to get over with it. The captain yelled at him again. He knew he wasn’t getting’ fired. Boat was barely staffed as it was. Walter picked up his harpoon and took aim. So sorry, whaley-girl.

Something wet smacked into his cheek. Then it slid down his face, and dropped onto the floor. What in the world-?

Water slowly lowered his head. His half-smoked cigarette lay there innocently, chock fulla water.

Then came the most hideous, horrifyin’ screechin’ Walter had ever heard in his life.

May God have mercy on his tainted, tainted soul.

Damian opened his gills pre-emptively. He jumped out of the water at full speed, roaring the moment he surfaced. The first man, the repugnant one with the harpoon gun. He was to go down first. The poacher was too stunned to even move. Damian sank his teeth deep into the man’s hand, going deeper than his human bites had ever gone.

The man screeched like a distressed school girl. Damian did not relent. His opponent attempted to fling Damian off, but the small siren held firm. The man stumbled back, howling and trying his best to rid himself of the monstrous child.

The two men beside him shouted. They reached for their harpoons. Twin blue beams blasted them back. The ice bound them to the back wall, leaving only enough room to breathe and wiggle their fingers.

Damian moved to finish his opponent. Tired of the incessant screeching, Damian unhooked his teeth from the man’s arm. Raising his head to eye level, Damian matched the poacher’s terrified look with a hiss of his own. One firm head butt later, and he was down for the count.

And Damian was hardly done.

He may be without his grappling hook. He may be without his legs. But he was still Robin, and a Robin who could not adapt was no Robin at all.

Shouting erupted along the boat. Footsteps scrambled and ran in every which direction. Men rushed to where he was lying ‘prone’ on the deck. Let them come!

“You handle the right. I will decimate the left.” Damian shouted. Danny nodded, charging up another beam.

Damian held his sword in one hand, and activated the wrist ray on the other. The men hesitated.

“Come on mates. It’s just a baby! We could get rich selling it!” With that, the trio of sailors yelled and rallied, each of them carrying harpoons. Child’s play.

Damian coiled his tail, and jumped as a wound-up spring would. A harpoon fired. Damian fired back. The wrist ray’s beam hit true, and the harpoon flew off course. The siren boy continued his course, and latched onto the first man.

His movement came as fluid as gentle river. In one motion with one hand, a slash at the stomach. In another with the other hand, he launched himself at the next poacher. His second total victim fell to the floor like a sack of bricks, writhing and crying out. The second of the trio faltered. A fatal mistake. Damian went for the head. His tail wrapped around the disgusting human’s neck and squeezed. The third man lunged for him. Damian burned his feet with the wrist ray. Then he sent him flying back with a shot to the shoulder.

There were more men. Damian did not relent. He would not relent until nobody was standing, until they could no longer continue their dirty deeds.

His platform was beginning to lose consciousness. Damian slammed him behind the head with the hilt of his sword. As the man fell, Damian launched himself to the next person foolish enough to approach. Then the next, and then the next. Damian dodged and deflected harpoons. He leapt from person to person in a bloody game of leap frog, and when he ran out of people to jump to, he instead went for the crane in the centre of the boat. Damian clambered up the crane using nothing but his upper body strength, aided by his lighter weight.

The remainder of the men were cowering under shelter. It was foolish to think they could escape from him for long. A death rattled emerged, a warning for anyone who dared approach. A foolish man peeked from a window. The wrist ray burned off a patch of hair for his troubles.

Damian had no patience for these games. It seemed Danny had the same idea. The flashes of blue light     ceased alongside the screaming. Oh how therapeutic the screaming was.

Before long, chaos emerged from even the cabin rooms. Looks like Danny had breached them. His opportunity granted, Damian dropped.

He landed on a hapless sailor. A slam to the back of the head had him slumping against the doorway. Damian leapt into the fray.

As soon as it had started, the bloodbath ended. Damian and Danny sat there in the bridge, surrounded by fallen poachers, still breathing, a small mercy. The boys panted heavily, their bodies not quite used to exertion over water. However, the deed was done.

“Has anyone told you you’re totally insane?” Danny asked.

Damian nodded breathlessly. “Many times.”

“High-five?”

Damian’s shoulders slumped. “Very well.”

They still had work to do. Danny tipped over a bucket of sea water on them both. “To keep our scales wet.” He said. Together, the sirens worked on freeing Dorothea. Damian cut the ropes, while Danny used his ice to smooth over the deck.

Damian laid his hand on her nose. He trilled his goodbyes. “Farewell, Dorothea. May you travel safely.”

With the ice acting like a smooth ramp, just a couple pushes were enough to slide Dorothea back into the water, safe and sound. Her mother sang to them in thanks. The whale pod departed soon after, leaving the two siren boys to the rest of the dirty work.

Damian emerged from the brig with rope. A lot of it. Danny worked on icing over the wounds inflicted by Damian’s rampage, many of which Damian would attest were well-earned. However, Damian did not intend to become a murderer again. Despite everything, he still wished to live up to his father’s ideals.

With the crew and captain rounded and tied up, that left another question.

“How are we gonna get these guys to the authorities?”

“We could always just sink the ship and allow them to perish.”

Danny crossed his arms, his face going flat. “No thanks.”

“It is simple. We emulate Basil the Second of the Eastern Roman Empire, who blinded 99 captured soldiers out of a hundred, and gouged out only one eye from the remaining one. Then he had the enemy soldiers return, led by the one-eyed men.”

Danny’s own eyes widened to dinner plates. His nictitating membranes flashed back and forth rapidly.

“I mean to say we allow one man to captain the ship home, while still heavily restrained.”

Danny’s body slumped in relief. “Oh thank god. I thought you were gonna actually try and do that.”

Damian bared his teeth at the crooks, who cowered as far as they could, tied up in rope and ice. “I would like to, but I am bound by higher principles these days.”

“Not concerning at all, but ok.”

Danny wisely chose to not press the issue. He chose someone relatively skinny, freed him out of the bunch. The scrawny man did not even try to flee. Damian’s sword made sure of that.

Just because they were allowing them to live did not mean they had to be nice. Land was less than a day away, so they could afford to be a little harsh. Damian tried the man wrists to the steering wheel, and Danny welded his feet to the floor. “Just so you don’t get any ideas, buddy.”

Danny patted the man on the shoulder, a gesture that was normally meant to encourage and provide support. The scrawny sailor trembled.

“Oh, Dami!” Danny perked up.

Damian’s fins rattled at the childish nickname.

“Now that we’re on a boat, we can call home.

That was… that was good news! Yes! He had completely forgot about that, lost in his righteous rage. That was the whole reason they’d ravaged the previous Atlantean town. Only the map had showed the nearest island to be thousands of miles away, and the coastline would have been too risky. Yes, this was good news indeed.

Damian put his sword to Scrawny’s throat.

Danny cleared his voice. “You might wanna give us your phone password, or my friend here is gonna make a sushi restaurant out of you.”

The man rattled off a series of numbers. Danny fished out his mobile phone, an old battered model, but functional.

“Here you go, Damian.”

Damian’s heart lightened. At last he could contact his father. Perhaps set up an extraction of some kind at the other end of Panama, or even earlier. This would be an enormous step towards bringing this adventure to an end, and returning back to Gotham where he was needed (and deep inside his heart, where he needed to be as well).

Damian slid the phone’s screen to unlock it, only for it to not work. Damian swiped the screen again.

“Why is this not working?” He rapidly rubbed the screen with his thumb, but the device did not respond.

“Oh yeah. These things are designed for human skin, which, uh, you know.” Danny showed his open palm, showing fingers coated in scores of tiny scales.

Damian looked to the side. He crawled up to one of the piles of tied-up poachers and came up to one fortunate enough to have been rendered unconscious. Damian yanked his arm forward, not caring for the deafening crack sound that motion created, and used the poacher’s human fingers to input the call for him.

An inelegant solution for an inelegant problem.

But that was no matter. Damian checked and double checked the numbers, making sure it was his father’s and nobody else’s. He took a deep breath, and pressed call.

Bruce Wayne sat on the back deck of the SAV, alone for the moment. The Fentons were just below, manning the controls. Apparently there was some kink in the system that was causing them to lose speed. Unsurprising, considering they had invented this whole new system in less than 48 hours. Or at least that was if Jasmine was to be believed.

The back deck sported an umbrella over a desk and a couple chairs for relaxation. On his tablet, Bruce carefully read the Fenton’s previous papers on sirens, a length catalogue dating back to over twenty years, when they were both in college.

In college with Vlad Masters, until he had disappeared, only to return grievously ill.

His phone rang. Bruce stared at the call. An unknown American number. He’d long ago stamped out the scam callers and telephone advertisers from ever bothering him or his family. The only person who could be calling this number was someone who knew it. Or at least someone who’d manually dialled it and wasn’t a scammer.

Hope began to swell. Surely it couldn’t be. It had to be Damian. Wasn’t it? No, he had to quash his hopes down. He had to stay focused.

Bruce answered the call.

“Hello, Bruce Wayne speaking. How may I help you?” His body tensed, hoping to God that it would be his son’s voice on the line, in the one and a million chance.

But what came through the line wasn’t his son’s voice. Or anyone’s voice. Instead, a series of frantic high-pitched trills, clicks and whistles came through. Almost like the caller put the phone next to an excited dolphin.

“Listen, I do not have time for any pranks. Who is calling me and why?” Bruce clenched his first. Of course he was a fool to get his hopes up.

Another frantic dolphin call. What a waste of time.

“I hope you’re proud of yourself for prank calling me.” The clicking went on in even more rapid succession, but Bruce ignored it. “Goodbye, and do not call this number again.”

Bruce hung up.

He hung his head in his hands, wishing for Damian to be back and safe. Wishing nobody had to be in danger.

[midnight-pluto]

This has been on mind but if you're feeling more relaxed to do this since I made a back to back request, but what about a Sea monster Percy Jackson x any gender pirate reader.

Format: Song fic (Davy Jones and Calypso - True Duet on YouTube by Si Ditris)

Trope: angst and unrequited pining

AU: Godly?

Plot: Let's imagine that Percy exists in Ancient times or the past when pirates roamed, they meet and reader is immediately swooned over seeing Percy and falls in love, but seeing that Percy is almost immortal (long life span), never accepted reader's affection, this led to an argument that caused reader's ship get sunken and regret now piles on Percy for what he just did.

(I immediately knew this was so much, so to make it short, SM Percy knows that P reader is inlove with him but since he has a long life span, doesn't out right reject them but just subtly ignore them which leads to an argument that ends with reader's ship sinking)

Note: Hope your doing well and continue to manage your mental health)

DROWNING — percy j.

TROPES: unrequited pining, angst

UNIVERSE: “godly”

PAIRING(S): percy jackson x gn!reader, mentioned!percabeth

WARNING(S): death, alcohol, survivors guilt(?)

A/N: i was supposed to post this by the end of November— WHOOPS

“Cruel and Cold like Winds on the Seas, will you Ever Return to Me?”

AS A PIRATE, you never stay in one place for too long — the waves calling your name and luring you in better than any siren ever could. Especially when you were the captain of your crew.

Having the title of captain held a lot of weight on your shoulder, but it was nothing if it meant allowing your crew to return to their homeland safely. Being constantly out at sea was bound to make you encounter multiple types of creatures. Some being sirens, isolated islands, and on this rare occasion: immortals — very, charming immortals.

“So, when do you plan on setting back out to sea?” Percy called out to you, sitting on a rock watching you swing your sword as your feet danced with the crashing waves into the sand and returning to your original stance. “Or,” he began, standing up and walking over to you, gently placing his hands on your waist to fix your posture and straightening out your arms as your grip on your sword tightened, “Do you plan on this being your final stop?”

Biting your bottom as to silence a nervous and surprised gasp at his actions, you narrow your eyes as to regain your focus, “No ship nor crew can be without it’s captain.” You swing your sword downwards, causing it to reflect the setting sun’s glow before it’s shine being shunned by its sheathe, “We will leave in the afternoon, our supplies have already been replenished and I’d rather us not overstay our welcome.”

Looking at his playful pout — eyes bright thanks to the sun — you assure him, “Don’t worry, I— we, will return as soon as we can.”

“Hear my Voice Sing with the Tide, my Love will Never Die.”

Placing the last remaining crates into the storage compartment, you watch Percy dust his hands off with a smile, “Thanks for helping out. Not many of our stops help out us pirates, especially be as willing to give us supplies as you were — I appreciate it.”

“Well, it’s been a while since I’ve had any visitors, almost a decade went by and no ship in my line of sight,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair before sitting on one of the crates he helped come aboard, “It’s pretty lonely, being alone with nothing but fish to keep you company. Of course, there’s the occasional dolphins and whales but I normally have to seek them out first.”

You merely hum in response, sitting on the crate right next to Percy as he just sat and kicked his feet out as they weren’t touching the ground, “If it makes you feel better, people don’t really like pirates and the ones who do we barely even get to stop by once more since y’know — we’re always traveling out here.”

After a moment of silence you both decide to head back up deck and to set sail once more. “It was a pleasure meeting you Percy. Trust me, the crew and I will be returning,” you held out your hand for him to shake with a smile, trying to remain professional in front of everyone. He took your hand and gave it a firm shake before waving the crew goodbye and walking back to shore.

Stepping onto the quarterback, you tell the crew to raise the anchors. Once the anchor has been raised and steadied into a place, you spin the wheel as your ship starts move. As it’s moving further into the see, you catch a glimpse of Percy’s silhouette still standing on the beach making your lips to curl upwards once again. “Seems like he caught the heart of our captain,” a crew member observed causing you to steer the wheel more aggressively in response to their teasing.

“Over Waves and Deep in the Blue, I will give up my Heart for you.”

Six months had passed since your last visit, and in those six months Percy had never left your mind. Even in different stopping points no matter how well they treated you and your crew, you had always compared it to treatment Percy had given you. Percy wouldn’t have done that, Percy would’ve done that better, they aren’t like Percy at all.

That’s when you decided to chart course back to Percy. When you announced your decision some of your crew members looked and smiled at you knowingly but never commented on it which you were grateful for.

As your ship had appeared on the horizon, Percy could recognize it. He smiled to himself — you had kept your promise — and dived into the water to eagerly swim to your ship. Using the water he was able to climb aboard onto the main deck with no water dripping from him in sight.

Your eyes widened in shock at his sudden appearance, grip on the wheel loosening slightly. His eyes scanned the main deck, looking over the other crew members agape mouth and immediately looking up at you on the quarterdeck with a beaming smile and spoke words that made your heart flutter: “I’m glad you’re back!”

“Yeah,” you breathlessly reply, steadying your grip on the wheel once more, “I promised after all.”

“Ten Long Years I’ll Wait to go by, my Love will Never Die.”

Walking along the sandy beach, you see Percy sitting on the sand — legs crossed with his black hair still wild as ever and green eyes now lost in thought staring out into the starry night sky. Your shoulders relax at the gorgeous sight of him when he notices you — eyes brightening back up again — and beckons you over to sit next to him.

Crossing your legs next to him, you look to your left to observe how the stars and moon light up his face that now had a light smile on it. Before the silence could become to intimidating you ask him: “Did you want to talk about something?” Noticing his raised eyebrows now staring back into your eyes, you try to save yourself, “If you don’t then it’s fine— I just thought that since you aren’t with the rest of the crew you just—“

“Nah,” he shook his head, chuckling slightly at your words, “You read me correctly. I was just thinking about… us.” You could nearly feel your heart stop at his words; was this it? Was he going to confess to you that he had thought about you just like you thought of him? Non-stop and with adoration?

“Don’t worry, it’s not like I’m confessing to you or anything,” he elaborated as you swallowed thickly, mentally chastising yourself for thinking that someone like him would ever think of you that way or for getting your hopes up after just two small interactions with him. “I was just thinking that, I’d like to come aboard your ship, captain.”

Pausing at his sudden declaration, you bury your disappointment deep within your heart and give him a grin, “We can make some space on our ship for you.” You didn’t think Percy’s eyes could light up so much, but you got proven wrong when he launched himself at you — embracing you in a tight hug in thanks.

“Come my Love be one with the Sea, Rule with me for Eternity.”

As per tradition — at least aboard your ship that is — the crew always stays one extra night at your stop to celebrate a new crew member. Everyone is welcome aboard for that night, free to talk, dance, sing, and drink. Unfortunately, since Percy was practically alone on the island there so it was considered as more of a bonding between the whole crew.

Putting your mugs together and towards the sky in cheers, you gulp your rum all down in one go. Percy watches your actions in amazement, imitating you but ending up choking on the sweet liquid. Laughing softly at him, you gently pat his back as he coughs, “You alright? Wouldn’t want your first experience on board to go horribly.”

Lifting his head back up, Percy looks back at you with a shy smile and cheeks red from embarrassment, “Yeah I’m alright, I’ve been through worse.” Pausing at his statement, your face immediately softens — remembering that he’s lived for a while yet still remains to appear your age.

Ruffling his already messy hair, you smile at him, “Well I hope that us welcoming you aboard will be one of the good memories in your long life span.” Turning away from him, you look towards the makeshift bartender sipping their own drink, “Hey! Another round over here for us!” you grin as they nod and get to work.

Soon enough, they return with your mugs refilled as you gulp down your fresh rum with Percy. Loudly cheering along with the other you could barely make out the words Percy says with warm eyes, “This is already one of the best ones yet.”

“Drown All Dreams so Mercilessly, and Leave their Souls to Me.”

The rest of the night seemed to pass by like a blur, as you were unknowing as to how you and Percy ended up in the crow’s nest. You were gazing up at the twinkling stars as Percy had his head down observing the waves in the ocean. The rest of the crew seemed to have been passed out and the ones who hadn’t, their voices you could barely make out or distinguish.

“So, have you been anywhere else? Or have you just stayed here?” you ask softly, turning to look at Percy. He was resting his body on the railing, elbows pressed against the bar, and his hair obscuring his face — only the pale moonlight illuminating his silhouette.

“I have,” he muttered, tone more serious rather than the light and playful one you were used to, “Me, her, and my friend’s adventured and travelled the world together. Y’know, slaying monsters and stuff since we’re basically monster bait.”

You paused when he differentiated ‘her’ from the rest, you weren’t sure if you wanted to know but your curiosity got the better of you, “Can I know more about ‘her’? Only if you’re comfortable of course.”

“Annabeth,” he replied with a loving tone and a smile, “She was, everything, to me. My best friend, my lover, my princess, my wise girl.”

“Play the Song you Sang Long Ago, and Wherever the Storm may Blow,”

Feeling your smile falter, you turn back to gaze at the stars with merely a hum of acknowledgement. Maybe you shouldn’t confront these feelings of yours, a pirate was nowhere near close a princess after all.

“I could only wish that I could’ve rejected that offer from the start, but of course I just had to have said yes the moment I heard it come out of his mouth,” Percy spoke, the waves now seeming more restless, “I just had to have been selfish.”

Gripping onto the railing, “Who has the ability to offer you immortality and mean it?” you whisper in an attempt to stop your voice from cracking, knowing that asking more questions would only worsen your feelings but just couldn’t.

“Zeus,” he murmured, spitting the name out as if it were profanity, “I had fought countless battles for the gods, that time so happened to have been a war. The countless amount of people — children — that had died for the gods to win the war was in vain, I had accepted their offer. I didn’t do good on a wish I could’ve chosen to have granted. I let their sacrifices go to waste.”

“I see,” was all you could manage to rasp out, before the silence over took you both once more. “I hope you won’t think that I’d regret inviting you onboard just because you told me this,” you place a hand on his shoulder, heart beating fast but your voice was steady, and looked at him, “A captain never looks down on their crew no matter their actions or their past. That’s just how things work around here.”

“You will find the Key to my Heart, we’ll Never be Apart.”

Things have never been the same since that night between you and Percy. It was hard to tell if it was in a bad way or not.

You both had grown closer to one another and in Percy’s eyes, it was amazing. He had finally found someone who knew of his mistakes and yet still welcomed him with open arms — he wasn’t entirely sure if the rest of the crew would do the same though.

In your eyes though, it was just a tantalizing reminder that you will never have a chance with him and yet he inadvertently makes things better and worse. Fondness glimmering in his eyes make your heart leap and fall down onto a spike when in reminder that it’s purely platonic.

It wasn’t like you weren’t used to keeping secrets of course, everyone on your crew had them. They all have a nasty past in one way or another and your ship was their place of escape, with their secrets under lock and key.

But why were you doing so badly and keeping in your own?

“Wild and Strong you can’t be Contained, never Bound nor ever Chained.”

Standing together in the crows nest gave you deja vu. The sun was setting and the wind had a gentle blow as you inhaled through your nose. It was a familiar feeling, except you both being sober and you pouring out your own secret instead of him.

“You said you wanted to talk about something?” Percy tilted his head, hair swaying with the wind.

“I have feelings for you,” you say, trying to hold back your voice from shaking.

Percy’s eyes soften, “You know I can’t accept that.”

“Does being immortal really mean you can’t get over someone?”

“Wounds you Caused will never Mend, and you will never End.”

The waves around the ship become increasingly harsher, rocking it back and forth as Percy’s gaze becomes sharp. “What do you mean by that.”

“Percy,” you sternly say, “I know that you’re immortal, I know that you’ve been through a lot, and I know how much she meant to you — but for gods sake! You’ve been alive for so long and after one relationship that didn’t even fail, you now are afraid of any and all relationships?”

“I’m not,” he retorts, storm clouds now forming over the open ocean.

“The only on your ever talk to daily on this ship is me. We’re supposed to be a crew, y’know, tightly knit friends almost akin to family because some of us no longer have one to go home and visit.”

Apparently you had stricken a nerve with your words, as the last thing you see are bubbles floating to the top of the water.

“Cruel and Cold like Wind on the Seas, will you Ever return to me.”

Percy that night had come to the conclusion that you were right. The first people who had reached out to come and help him since the death of the seven — that’s what they called themselves — and his other friends he had treated terribly and taken for granted.

He had returned to his island in shame and in tears with a newly found sword in hand. It had been the one you trained with on this very shore, talking to him with a smile on your face.

Oh how me missed it.

Once the sun rose on the horizon once again, he could finally see it in all of it’s true glory. It was a glittering bronze blade with a leather hilt, it’s edges chipped and worn down from its use he assumed. There were words carved onto the blade which he had never noticed before — Riptide, that was the swords name.

Wiping a tear from his eyes he could only wish that he had taken the time to observe and appreciate you just how he had just done to your own blade. That sickened him, treating a blade better than its master — how foolish.

A/N: my stomach hurts

[fairy-writes]

I would like a medium mocha with sugar and Edward Elric please!!!!!

-🪐

WITHOUT YOU

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Prompt: Paranormal pirate AU scenario with Edward Elric

Word Count: 0.9k (so close to 1k rip)

Fandom(s): Fullmetal Alchemist

Pairing(s): Edward Elric x Reader

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Pirate!Edward, 

Notes: You guys love giving me difficult requests lmao

This is also a female reader as opposed to my typical gender neutral :)

Trigger warning for death and drowning in this fic!

__________________________________________________________________________

You were awoken in the night by hands roughly grabbing your arms and hauling you from your hammock. You let out a scream, and someone shoved a wadded-up ball of cloth in your mouth as you struggled. 

It was your fellow crewmates. You recognized their stink. 

You were dragged, kicking, and muffled screaming up to the deck where the rain was coming down in torrents like knives. Your hands were bound, your legs tied together. A cannonball is tied to your ankles, and you are heaved to the ship’s side. 

They’re going to throw you overboard. That much is obvious. 

“STOP!”

Until…

You see him.

Edward Elric. 

The captain of the ship. One of the youngest in pirate history. 

And the love of your life.

He shoves his way through the growing crowd of pirates. His bright crimson coat had already darkened to a deep maroon in the hurricane of rain. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” He demands, shrugging someone’s hand off his shoulder and smacking someone else’s away as they try to pull him back.

“‘s bad luck to have a lady aboard, Cap'n.” At this, he scoffs,

“And I thought we didn’t put much stock into fairy tales.” He snaps, and you can see his metal hand curling into a fist.

You begin to struggle again, trying to wriggle toward your savior’s side.

That ends up being your downfall.

Seeing as you’re perched on the edge of the ship, only your crewmate’s hands holding you aboard, you begin to teeter over the side.

Right as a massive wave hits and sucks you overboard.

It feels like you are being pulled down for miles and miles by the cannonball at your feet and the waves pulling at your skin. Dragged down and down and down until you can’t see the bottom of the boat or Edward’s grief-stricken face. 

You feel as if your lungs are about to pop. The pressure from the water builds and builds. Behind your eyes, in your nose, under your tongue. You claw at your throat with bound hands, try to swim up, try to stop the sinking, but the cannonball is too heavy, and you are growing weak.

You hit something. Maybe a rock. Maybe a whale. You can’t tell. But you inhale out of reflex, coughing and inhaling more water as it invades your mouth, your nose, your lungs, your entire being. It feels thick like tar as your throat burns and constricts. Your lungs balloon and feel like they are bursting at the seams. Your body convulses. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, couldn’t—

And everything goes black.

Edward sits with his head in his hands at his desk. The ship rocked back and forth. Usually, it would’ve put him to sleep, but not anymore.

You were gone. Drowned. Dead. Never to come back.

He had always prided himself on being a man of reason. A man of science. Ever since he was a boy and his mother passed away, his father lost at sea, leaving him to raise Alphonse with little help. 

But now?

He thought about putting the tiniest bit of thought into the same superstitions that killed you. Wasn’t there one about the Elixir of Life at the end of the world? He had no idea. After all, he wasn’t supposed to believe in that stuff.

It was only then that he realized something.

His room was illuminated by a bluish-green glow.

He got up, turned, and felt his jaw go slack.

Was this a prank?

You were in front of him!

You were glowing blue and green with your hair floating as if you were still in the water and water running in rivulets down your body. But it was you!

He whispers your name like a prayer to a god he didn’t believe in, and your eyes open.

You were crying.

“Eddie?” You murmur, and he feels his knees go weak at the nickname. You were the only one who could call him that. Not even Alphonse could call him that. 

“Wh—How are you here right now?” He barely manages over his thundering heartbeat. You take a shaky step forward, and he rushes to catch you before your knees buckle.

You’re cold. Freezing even. His hands are soaked instantly by your tears and the mysterious water that’s dripping down your body. But you're here and now. 

Edward gathers you in his arms and presses his nose to your soaked, floating hair. He doesn’t care that his clothes—which were drying slowly—are now wet again. All that matters is the fact that you're here.

“I don’t—I don’t understand… how—how am I here?!” You whimper, and his heart cracks at the sound. It’s like you can’t stop crying.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m—” 

Sorry?

Sorry for what?

Sorry for failing you?

For bringing you aboard when he knew his crewmate's superstitions?

For watching you sink instead of diving in to pull you out?

He realizes he’s crying. And your hand is on his cheek, looking at him with red-rimmed eyes and tears streaming your cheeks and dripping down your chin.

“Don’t cry.” You weep silently, and he smiles. 

“How can I not?” He asks, voice cracking, and you shake your head,

“Because you are still alive.” His smile drops,

“But without you.”

You begin to disappear, but not before you press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“I’m never too far away.” Your whisper is but a butterfly on the wind, and he’s left alone in the dark of his quarters.

[ohsunnyboy]

zerobase1 and how they play genshin | zb1

WHALE | META | CASUAL | NOT A GAMER

TAGS: headcannons, crack-ish, lowercase intended

A/N: as a genshin player and zb1 enjoyer, i own a wealth of knowledge. if you don't know what i'm referencing or talking about then i'm sorry lmao i get rly into genshin

WORDS: ~600 (~100 each)

WHALES 🐋

GYUVIN - ok puppy dog has no spending sense and would swipe swipe swipe until he got the character. or somehow get his account robbed and card details stolen. wouldn't swipe for c6 on characters but would swipe for all the skins.

plot goes soaring over his head. though, he'd get 100% completion completely on accident bc he runs from chest to chest completing everything bc ooh shiny. (it's what i do)

definitely hops across different coop worlds to be an absolute menace. steals all your starconches, beatles and cor lapis and leaves.

a whale so team comp doesn't quite matter, but i feel like cool burst animation is a must.

RICKY - need i explain? he doesn't even play the game often, he just sees a cool looking character and swipes. feels like he would c6r5 a character if he really liked them. would get surprisingly into event content just for the exclusive items etc. cares mildly about the plot and zero for the exploration.

would play cool and pretty characters bc when you're a whale, team composition just doesn't matter.

META 🎮

MATTHEW - a confirmed nerd by his sister so you bet he's an enthusiast. pays attention to kqm, twitter and future patch leaks. grinds out for the spiral abyss and has op asf team combos. would spend but only if he knows it's worth it.

enjoys the plot and characters, but not massive on exploration. still enjoys all the characters thoroughly and knows more lore tidbits than most. is the sweetest coop friend.

GUNWOOK - okokok he'd be apprehensive at first until he pulls like c5 benny and a eula then the world of dps (damage per screenshot) awakens. fights wars in the trenches of the honeyhunterworld comments section. stays updated and dips in and out of the game.

secretly stays about for plot. finds exploration boring but can admit it's pretty. the dude who refuses to swap characters when doing coop domains. does a boss blitz when bored.

CASUALS 💫

HANBIN - ok only got it bc the kids said he should. (gyuvin uses him to get the coop achievements) actually ended up staying bc wow everything is gorgeous, the plot is engaging and the characters have depth! and it's all free ?? goes about it at a decent pace, doesn't do spiral often, just finishing floor 10.

tcg enjoyer and event player.

ZHANG HAO - TEAPOT MAIN god yeah hella into the teapot. only completes the story and everything for the teapot. comes on sometimes to help hanbin out or bc someone else needs mats from his world. has a solid overworld team for collecting mats etc.

mildly enjoys the plot but exploration is where it's at.

NOT A GAMER 🌱

JIWOONG - only got it bc everyone else did, found out it took too much space on his phone, deleted it. tried playing it on gunwook's pc but had to play zhongli with his shield up 24/7 bc mechanics are hard okay! does see it as pretty and that yeah some characters are worth spending money for but there are better ways to find enjoyment in life.

TAERAE - doesn't mind it. he just doesn't see the hype over online characters. if and when he does play, it's on someone else's account and on the tcg. man loves the tcg, making decks and sweeping the floor with everyone.

has insane pull luck.

YUJIN - hmmm he sorta thinks it's cringe but gyuvin makes him play it. defo a valorant kid. tried to make a gun didn't work. plot doesn't matter much to him, interested in some character backstory but dips out when it comes to exploring. yujin defo thinks childe, xiao and alhaitham are cool. paimon gets on his nerves the most.

i had lots of fun doing this so i hope you enjoyed ! leave a like or reblog if you did :) ⭒ masterlist

[iwhoneverbelievedinwar]

Ok ok so I'm on Chapter 102 of Moby Dick (holy fuck?!) and I have... thoughts.

But to a large and thorough sweeping comprehension of him, it behooves me now to unbutton him still further, and untagging the points of his hose, unbuckling his garters, and casting loose the hooks and the eyes of the joints of his innermost bones, set him before you in his ultimatum; that is to say, in his unconditional skeleton.

Ishmael? Ishmael??? Was it necessary to make that description so... homoerotic? Casting the whale as a man he's undressing? Not complaining just impressed honestly.

I confess, that since Jonah, few whalemen have penetrated very far beneath the skin of the adult whale; nevertheless, I have been blessed with an opportunity to dissect him in miniature. In a ship I belonged to, a small cub Sperm Whale was once bodily hoisted to the deck for his poke or bag, to make sheaths for the barbs of the harpoons, and for the heads of the lances. Think you I let that chance go, without using my boat-hatchet and jack-knife, and breaking the seal and reading all the contents of that young cub?

Augh. The intimacy of it. Ishmael isn't just dissecting the whale, he's reading it. It's easy to imagine him over that whale cub, learning its innermost secrets, elbow-deep in a body. The violence of understanding. The eroticism of it. Do you Get Me. He's fascinated by the whale, he's had the chance to open up a myth and put his hand into the wound like Thomas. Augh.

The weaver-god, he weaves; and by that weaving is he deafened, that he hears no mortal voice; and by that humming, we, too, who look on the loom are deafened; and only when we escape it shall we hear the thousand voices that speak through it.

obsessed with Ishmael finding divinity in everything. i wish I could see the world through his eyes

Life folded Death; Death trellised Life; the grim god wived with youthful Life, and begat him curly-headed glories.

Even the gods are gay in this book

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Wary Sailor Pt. 3 | Matthew Joy x fem!reader

summary: A storm is coming to threaten the Essex and her crew, and not even second-mate Matthew Joy is ready for the toil that it will cause. When he's thrown overboard, his sweet Siren saves him, but she begins to understand the danger of their relationship.

warnings: Thalassophobia, drowning, and bodily harm.

word count: 2210k

I'll Believe in Anything- Wolf Parade 🎶

Asleep- The Smiths 🎵

shout out to @everandforeveryours for helping me with ideas! More to come 🖤

That night the sea was rough and the captain called for all hands on deck. Matthew did not sleep that night or much of the day. His thoughts of the girl were incessant and his body still held the memory of her, making it even more difficult to focus on the important tasks of the day. Through the turbulent waves, the Essex sailed with the help of her crew. Their calls and shouts could barely be heard over the roar of the sea around them. Matthew wondered if Y/N was watching from the sea, the waves a place of safety even in the worst storm. 

As rain pounded the deck, Matthew stood at the railing and looked out at the storm, his hands gripping the edge. They’d lowered the sails and were preparing the ship for storms. 

“Joy,” Owen’s voice pulled Matthew from his thoughts and he looked over his shoulder at the Essex’s first-mate. Owen stood beside him at the railing and looked out at the sea. 

“You alright, mate?” He asked quietly, not meeting Matthew’s eyes. Matthew furrowed his eyebrows and looked at his friend’s face. “You’ve been… off since the morning we spotted the pod of whales, and you were down in the boat alone for a long time last night. You and I both know how we can get after years at sea…” Owen cleared his throat and waited for Matthew to speak. 

“Do you believe in Sirens?” Matthew asked him instead and Owen scoffed, taken back by the random question. 

“What?” Owen shook his head, “no, I don’t believe they’re real. Why? Do you think you saw one?” Owen shrugged light-heartedly and scratched his mustache.

When Matthew didn’t respond, Owen lowered his hand and sighed slowly. 

“Be careful, Joy. Don’t let the sea play with your mind, at least for our sake,” Owen patted Matthew on the back and stepped away. “I’m going to help secure the sails for the night. Captain wants us to continue straight, he thinks we’ll clear the storm before it gets bad but I don’t know, Joy. No whale is worth testing the sea and her temper.” 

“Oh, Joy,” Owen turned back, remembering something, “do you remember what they say about seeing a Siren? Seeing one likely means the ship will sink,” Owen set his brow, his voice dark like a warning. 

Matthew glanced back at his friend and nodded, “I’ll make sure my men are ready if anything happens tonight.” 

“Good.” 

Owen walked off to help the younger sailors fasten the sails in place and chain the barrels of fresh water below deck. Matthew pinched the bridge of his nose and silently cursed the Captain. Joy had been on the water long enough to know that the storm clouds in the distance were not a good sign for a ship. The sea was already riled up, so heading beneath the dark gray and greenish sky seemed the worst decision to make. 

Could she see him now? He wondered. 

…

Matthew managed to get a few hours of sleep before the ship entered the storm. Matthew was not alone in his frustration. Every sailor groveled over the Captain’s poor direction, knowing this trip would cause more harm than good. Matthew climbed to the top deck and began scaling the rigging system of ropes. A mast had been knocked from its place by the wind. Matthew directed the men, calling for help in fixing the massive piece of wood. The Captain watched from below, his nice uniform ruined from salt water and the rain. 

“Joy! Come down from there and help secure the mast’s rigging!” The Captain yelled up at him and Matthew cursed below his breath. The wind whistled in his ears as he climbed down the rope system, slick and slimy. Landing hard on the deck of the ship, Matthew helped a few other men lift the bundle of cord used to hold the mast in place in case of emergency. The ship plunged between massive waves and one of the ship’s Booms swung around, knocking Matthew over the railing. There was no time to hold onto anything or try to save himself as he was forced over the edge and fell down, down into the sea. 

…

His body sunk below the surface of the angry sea. Waves engulfed him, forcing him down whenever he almost swam to the top. The sea was dark green and blue, so much so that he couldn’t see anything around him. His coat and boats weighed him down but he couldn’t take them off in his determination to swim to the surface. The air had been knocked out of him when he landed, his back was surely already bruising. Without any breath in his lungs, Matthew’s lungs began to spam, trying desperately to pull in air. Soon, he could feel himself sinking further, no longer making progress to the surface. He could feel his muscles loosening as he began to lose consciousness. Matthew was a good swimmer, and yet, he was no match to the severity of the sea during a storm. 

Y/N, he thought as swallowed some of the water around him in his instinct to breathe. His arms were stretched out in the water, reaching for the Essex and safety. 

You shouldn’t be here.

Matthew tried to open his eyes when he heard the familiar voice in his head. Between his eyelashes, he saw a ray of soft light. As his eyes opened more, he realized the ray of light was the Siren, the woman he’d begun to love. 

You can’t be here, Matthew. I need to get you back to the surface. 

He didn’t remember closing his eyes but could feel Y/N’s arms wrap around his shoulders, dragging him with her. The action was swift. Her tail was pure muscle that propelled them as fast as she wanted it to. In what felt like seconds, Matthew’s head cleared the surface of the water. 

Breath, Matthew. 

Matthew heard her in his head and tried to breath but he already felt dead. 

“I think that’s him, sir!” A sailor yelled from the deck. Men gathered at the railing to assist, piecing together a rope ladder for their lost second-mate. It was raining so hard that the men on the deck could barely see Matthew nor the woman-like creature beside him.  

The sound of his crewmates awakened something else inside Matthew: duty. 

They need you Matthew. I’ll never forgive you if you don’t breathe right now.

Matthew’s eyes snapped open and he began to cough, clearing the water from his lungs. His arms began to instinctively tread the water to keep himself afloat. She appeared beside him at the surface, keeping her head low. It took a few moments for Matthew to clear his head and catch his breath. 

“Y/N,” he croaked and gave her a crooked smile, pain in his eyes, “thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, sailor.” She released a sigh of relief and glanced up at the rope ladder the men were trying to detangle. “Your men are lowering a rope. You’re going to be fine.” 

Matthew looked between the rope and the woman who had just saved his life.

“Come with me.” Matthew’s blue eyes flashed as he spoke, “I’ll look after you. We can be together after they know what you did to save my life.” 

She shook her head and bit her lip. “I can’t, Matthew. That’s your world, not mine. And besides,” she glanced up at the rope ladder starting to fall, “I can’t survive up there… for short periods of time, sure, but not forever.”   

“I don’t think I can be away from you,” Matthew admitted and coughed again. 

“You must.” 

The ship tossed and turned in the rough water. The men threw down the rope and it landed in the water yards away. He’d have to swim to it, fighting the massive waves. 

“This is getting dangerous. I should have never come aboard your boat. This is all my fault…” the Siren closed her eyes. 

“What do you mean, love?” Matthew tried to reach for her face in the water. 

“It’s bad luck for a woman to board a sailor’s boat. I knew it was unlucky and I still did it because I needed to meet you. I’m so sorry, Matthew.” 

“Don’t say things like that,” Matthew furrowed his brow, ignoring the calls of his crewmates, “you saved my life.” 

“We’re tempting fate.” 

“Fuck that! I love you. I’m- damn it- I’m in love with you, Y/N. Come with me, please.” 

The Siren smiled painfully and closed the distance between them. She kissed Matthew deeply, their lips sliding into place against each other as they were meant to do. Her nose was crushed against his as he kissed her back. He sucked desperately at her bottom lip, pulling her mouth closer to his. His hands held her face painfully tight, boring into the flesh on her cheeks, somehow still staying afloat as he did so. Finally, she pulled away but kept her face close so that she could speak quietly to him. 

“I don’t trust your Captain Pollard, sailor, and neither should you. Be wary.” With a sad expression on her beautiful face, she slipped below the waves. Her silver tail flipped up into the air, sending a wave that carried Matthew the few feet closer he needed to swim to the base of the ladder. 

“Y/N!!” Matthew screamed into the wind, spitting salt water from his mouth. 

“Joy! Climb the god-damned rope right now!” Owen ordered from the deck. After a moment Matthew forced himself to swim to the rope ladder. He released an angry yell and slammed his fist against the side of the boat, his hair sticking to the side of his face as he looked back at the sea. 

“Joy!” Owen’s voice was louder now that he was closer. Having no other choice, Matthew found one of the rungs and dejectedly began to climb. 

…

He choked on the water still in his lungs when he fell back onto the deck. Hands grabbed at his clothes and dragged him away from the railing. Owen crouched beside him and slapped his face with both hands, stimulating blood flow. 

“You alright, second-mate?” Owen tried to joke. Matthew coughed up more water before wiping his mouth and nodding. 

“I’m alive.”

“Barely. Take him below!” Owen ordered a smaller boy to help Matthew to his feet and escorted him below deck. There was a small sick-bay between the sailors’ berth and the Captain’s quarters. No doctor worked there, but it could be used for quarantine when necessary. At that moment, Matthew was placed there more for comfort than anything. After he was helped onto the shallow bunk and the boy left him alone, Matthew began to remove his wet clothes. Dropping them on the ground, he looked for injuries, Y/N’s words still echoing in his head. 

Yes was leaving him, probably forever. And they had parted with one last warning: don’t trust Captain Pollard. Matthew didn’t trust him very much to begin with and now he disliked him even more. The man had no tangible experience with commercial sailing, especially not whaling boats. Owen should have been Captain and Matthew should have been first-mate. Things would have gotten done, they would have never entered a storm like this. 

He was changing into dry bloomers when someone knocked. For a moment, Matthew watched the door, expecting to see the girl on the other side but when the visitor entered, it was not her. 

“Everything is secured. There are men still keeping watch but I’ve ordered everyone else below deck until we clear this storm.” Owen stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Pollard?” Matthew cleared his throat and slowly sat back down on the bed. 

“He’s… doing some calculations, navigation.” Owen waved his hands about and sighed. After a moment of silence, his eyes returned to watch Matthew and he drew in a strained breath. 

“Joy,” Owen started ominously and Matthew looked up, his icy blue eyes drowned out by the darkness, “I saw… well how do I say this… I saw who saved you, Joy.” 

Matthew looked to the side and nodded absently. 

“So you were right then, they’re real. She… saved you?” Owen grimaced as he tried to confirm what he saw. 

“Yes, she did,” Matthew laughed tiredly, his smile falling short. 

“Why?” Owen asked hesitantly. 

Matthew turned his head back slowly to look at his best-friend. His pale skin looked yellow in the light of the whale oil lamp. His hair was still damp but it had begun to dry where it had fallen in waves around his head. 

“She loved me,” Matthew answered with what he believed whole-heartedly to be the truth and wrapped a blanket around his shoulder, hissing as his back muscles clenched in pain. Owen looked Matthew up and down and nodded, understanding that he was supposed to leave.

Once alone again, Matthew sat with his knees drawn up to his chest and looked up at the ceiling. Rainwater managed to sneak through the cracks between floorboards above his head. He watched it drip around him and sat in silence. 

…

End of Pt. 3!

[oflights]

Happy pride! For the drarry slice-of-life prompts, might I suggest: Harry in [whatever the first job you ever wanted to have when you grew up was] and a meetcute-at-work?

hi!! thank you!

so my mind immediately went to "marine biologist harry" because like, i was a 90s kid! of course i wanted to be a marine biologist! which then got me thinking of interesting ways to make draco meet marine biologist harry, which got me thinking of beluga whale animagus draco???? (because i was all about whales as a kid, that was the whole point of it for me.)

anyway. that's what this is? why is it 1.1k words again? who can say, i sure can't. happy pride 🌈🐳

Draco doesn’t expect to see Harry Potter while swimming in the chilly, salty depths of the St. Lawrence River.

Work had taken Draco to Montreal, and he’d booked the extra Portkeys to Quebec City and then Tadoussac without a second thought. Draco so rarely gets a chance to change into his Animagus form in an actually suitable environment, and he’s changed here before; this particular pod of beluga whales is incredibly friendly and welcoming even for his short visits, and so he’s been looking forward to this for months.

Until now, it had been all about getting into the water: making sure local friends have his coordinates in case something goes wrong; casting the proper Disillusionment Charms so no one notices a random blond nutter jumping into the river alone; letting the cold wash over his magic-warmed body for a few suspended moments, until he relaxes into the transformation and lets that magic overtake everything else.

That first moment of transformation—so freeing, so unique, nothing like Draco ever feels on land—always goes a long way to soothing the disappointment he’d felt when he’d first managed to become an Animagus.

He’d known it would be something aquatic; he’d felt drawn to the sea throughout the whole process. Even so, transforming into a beluga whale had not been expected, and after the initial sense of accomplishment, basking a little in all his friends’ delight and amusement, it had struck how difficult it would be to find opportunities to transform.

Draco had adjusted his travel plans and work trips to become colder and more Arctic, but he’d quickly learned how social whales are, and how intolerable they find it to be alone. So it became more about finding other belugas to swim with, to communicate with. Chancing upon this pod had been a stroke of luck, and Draco has missed them.

He could hear them as a human on the shore, high-pitched and soft and wailing, but it’s different as a whale. Hefeelstheir call within him like this, loses himself in it, revels in the sensation of immersive belonging he’s rarely felt before.

In moments like these, Draco loves being a beluga Animagus. It’s all worth it.

And then he sees Harry Potter.

It’s not so strange to see a team of marine biologists on the St. Lawrence. There’s a good amount of marine life here, not to mention the colony of merpeople that lives around the Saguenay Fjord that could explain the presence of magic folk. What’s really strange is that this team includes Harry Potter, not someone Draco would ever have expected to find halfway around the world from home.

Potter is dressed like he might be a marine biologist, which is ridiculous—Draco is certain he’d read that Potter had gone to work with dragons. He’s leaning over the railing of the small observation deck of his boat, dark hair blown wild and glittering with salt spray, radiating Warming Charms, grinning broadly at the friendly belugas streaming through the waters around them.

As Draco watches, still dumbfounded, Potter raises his wand and Conjures large, shiny bubbles, setting them to float over the water and delighting the belugas, who pop them with excited squeals, splashing happily as he Conjures more.

A few of the other members of the pod seem to sense Draco’s frozen disbelief and translate it as distress, swimming over to nudge him gently with their rounded heads, bonking him carefully on his flank. The movement draws the attention of Potter, who smiles at him in a way that Harry Potter has certainly never, not once, smiled at him before.

Draco has a rush of feelings that don’t entirely fit in the water. There’s old resentment, annoyance, a break of his peace—in his whale form, in the perfect, embracing cold, that all seems silly, wasteful. It’s easy to translate to a playful sort of mischief instead.

He starts swimming again, giving grateful return bumps to his concerned pod members on the way right up to the boat, Potter’s eyes trained on him the whole time.

“Hi,” Potter says brightly, giving him a wave as Draco pops out of the water. In answer, Draco gives an enormous spray of water, glittering bright in the sunlight and dripping all over Potter and a few other crew members, making them laugh. “Nice to meet you too,” Potter says. He laughs again as a few belugas follow Draco’s lead, a shower of water dropping down all around them.

Potter Conjures bubbles directly over Draco, smile widening as he pops them before they’re even fully formed. Draco leaps up higher and spots the strap of a messenger bag by Potter’s feet, and on the next bubble, he misses on purpose and takes a swipe at the strap.

The bag splashes into the water in an instant, the sound loud over Potter’s startled, “Hey, that’s mine!” as the rest of the team laughs again. It’s quick, easy swim work to duck down in the water and hook the floating strap around one fin, making sure to spin onto his side to show Potter he’s got it.

Draco takes off, squeaking happily when he hears a flat splat sound behind him, a bodyboard hitting the water. It’s followed by another splash, Potter calling out, “Give that back!” as he starts to swim after Draco.

Even with magic—infused in his wetsuit, driving the bodyboard, clear and unmistakable and disconcertingly familiar—Potter can’t exactly keep pace with a grown beluga whale. Draco revels in that for a few viciously satisfying moments before he slows only long enough for Potter to catch up, to reach out between Draco and the bodyboard, and to catch hold of Draco’s fin—before speeding up again and taking Potter with him.

He tows Potter back to shore, spurred by his laughter and exhilaration, the way he’s ignoring the alarmed shouts of his colleagues from behind them, delighting in the clicks and squeaks and lovely, encouraging calls of Draco’s pod.

Draco bumps up against the rocks where he’d jumped in, knocking Potter against them until he takes the hint and climbs up, eyes wide and amazed. There’s another moment where Draco hesitates—it’s always hard to change back after feeling like this, to want human feeling again, worse still to take away some of the magic of what Potter has just experienced.

But he wants to change back, wants to see the look on Potter’s face. He recasts the requisite Warming Charms and pulls himself back into his human form, landing on the rocks next to Potter, gasping unfamiliar human breaths for a few seconds before he gets his bearings and braves a look at Potter.

Potter, who still looks just as amazed, still exhilarated, and somehow not at all disappointed. His eyes sparkle familiarly, and Draco blinks and feels nothing of the old resentment, like he’d left it all in the water in that first, tall spray.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Draco says, holding up Potter’s stolen bag.     

[pampushky]

Creature (Both Haunted & Holy)

Vinsmoke Sanji/Reader - Chapter 12 - 4.2k

The crew realizes you have an irrational fear of whales, and Sanji tries his best to help.

ao3 | series masterlist | masterlist | next part

Reverse Mountain towers above you, taller than anything you had ever seen before. Your home island, one of the hundreds that made up the archipelago of the Selken Isles, had been mountainous, with your own childhood village being nestled on a cliff above the sea, just one of the 23 ports on your island alone. But this– this is a new level of height, and the waters are choppy underneath you. The currents almost seem uneasy, or nervous, as you stretch on the deck, wearing a swimsuit and your pelt, before diving, checking out the hull of the boat before you summit the mountain. The rest of the crew is either in the galley, waiting for you to come back, or standing on the deck, watching you from the safety of their ponchos.

Your hands and feet melt away easily, your body reshaping into your seal form, and the harsh light of day gives way to the calm of the sea. The blue void below you makes you sigh, a stream of bubbles falling from your mouth as you swim under the boat, examining the wood as a few curious fish swim around you as you do your job. 

You stop, when a song echoes through the water, high-pitched and eerie. It shakes the water around you, and in the distance, you can see the shape of a gigantic sea-king, ten times the size of the Merry and letting out another loud call, this one lower, and more resonant, only audible to you, and whatever creatures are around you.  

It’s oddly beautiful, as you watch the serpent twist, before disappearing into the blue void, swimming deeper and out of your sight. You finish, spending another fifteen minutes under the water before you surface, leaping from the water and landing on the deck, where Nami has a towel waiting, wrapping you up as you both make it back into the common room, dripping water all the way.

“We’re right along the calm line, straddling the border,” You towel your hair off, before dropping it to wipe up the puddles you’ve created, shaking out the water on your skin as you slip a pair of sweatpants over your swimsuit, your pelt, mysteriously dry, sliding off one of your shoulders. “Sea-Kings run rampant, I saw one when I was down there, and only the Sea Mother knows what may lay in the depths. We should try to move away from there.”

“Are they strong?” Luffy sits a bit straighter as you finish talking, eyes shining with mischief. 

“We’re not going to stay to find out,” Nami smacks the back of his head, knocking his hat into his eyes. “Let’s get–”

Something rams against the ship, making everything shake. The same song from earlier fills your ears as you hit the floor, hair covering your face as you let out an angry, low grumble, clicking as Luffy whoops, making a break for the door, wanting to fight whatever rammed the Merry, Sanji and Zoro on his heels. 

The rain has stopped, and you bolt after your captain, intent on stopping him from getting the ship destroyed by picking a fight with one of the goliaths below. Coming onto the deck, you find the ship hovering, oddly peaceful, except for the smell of fish and bone choking you as you look at the sky. The roar deafens you, making your ears ring as you struggle to gain a sense of which way you’re going, and the ship trembles around you, making Luffy whoop again.

You let out a growl, while Luffy looks disappointed that he can’t find a serpent to fight, whining, while you stalk forward, pushing past a confused Sanji and Zoro.

“Shut up,” You grab his collar, baring your teeth. “This is bad. Very bad.” You look out past the railing, and let out a louder groan, dropping your captain as the beast’s gigantic forehead in front of you. “We’re stuck on top of a Neptunian–”

“We’re what?!” Luffy cries, just as the boat drops, another confused roar shaking everything that you currently exist on. You smack your hands over your ears, screaming in pain. Sanji and Zoro fly past your vision as they slam into the deck, with Usopp holding onto the door of the galley. Nami, wherever she is, screams, and you hear a loud snap. 

“We need to get out of here!” Nami howls, pulling you up, and staring into your dazed eyes. “We can panic later!”

You let out a roar, slamming your fists into the deck, and the ship rockets forward, the wake behind the Going Merry causing giant waves to crest up on the sides of the ship until you’ve been pushed out of the calm belt, the beasts roaring as you’ve made it out of their range. You stand up slowly, watching as they sink back into the ocean, just as you let out another, furious roar, turning to look at the crew. 

“Never,” you loom over Luffy, breathing hard with teeth bared at your captain, who looks up at you in shock, “.... do that again, you idiot.”

You look at the form of the Red Line above you, holding your forehead as you slowly calm yourself, and Zoro follows your gaze, frowning at the gigantic mountain while Luffy whines about getting lectured. You only shoot him another glare. 

“We can’t just fight everything,” Usopp manages to stand, wobbling as he does so, looking a bit green.

“We could have taken it,” Luffy pouts, and you fight the urge to punch him, podmate or not.

“Absolutely not!” Zoro holds him up by his armpits, looking him in the eyes like he's a misbehaving cat. Luffy only frowned, glaring at both yourself and Zoro. Sanji steps forward, taking Luffy from Zoro’s hands, and setting him on the ground, butting heads with the swordsman as he does. 

“Let's focus on getting up the mountain,” Sanji looks at you, pushing Zoro’s face away from his own, playing towards the neutral ground. “We can argue later, and then I’ll kick your ass, mosshead.” 

You fold your arms and eventually sigh, looking over at the galley, the door still hanging open with Usopp gripping the railing in front of it, holding up the rudder’s steering rod. Silence envelops the deck as you look at the snapped rudder, open-mouthed. He looks just as shocked as you, both staring at it as you approach him. 

“I… I’ll fix that, first,” You blink, and Usopp nods, and Nami takes that as a sign to start barking orders at the rest of the crew to ready the ship for the journey up the the canal. It almost looks like a waterfall in the distance, with a mist rising at the foot of the mountain. All you know is that it’s flowing upwards, you can feel the way the water pulls and tugs for you to follow it.

Carefully, you set the broken piece back on, using sticky resin-based glue to hold it, as Usopp hammers nails and metal brackets to keep it together, even after the glue dries. By the time you’re done, you already know you’re going to need to check out the actual rudder itself whenever you find time to anchor somewhere, wiping sweat from your brow as Nami enters the common space again, watching as Usopp and yourself take stock of what building and repair supplies you may need. 

“We ready to set off?”

“As we’ll ever be.”

“Mind giving us a push in the right direction?”

“Not at all,” you groan as you stretch, feeling stiff from your swimsuit drying to your skin, and the fact you had moved the boat away from the calm belt without any preparation. You’re exhausted, honestly. “Let's see what’ll happen.”

The entire crew stands on the deck, anxiously watching as you push the ship forward, left arm outstretched with the palm towards the Red Line as your right mimics the breaststroke, steadily moving the ship forward as you breathe deeply. The moment you come to the mist, you pause, unsure of what to do. The Going Merry shudders underneath you, moving forward and going up the mountain, caught in the currents of the river flowing upwards. You gasp, hands dropping to your sides as you do, running to the side to peek over the railing. Fish jump from the water alongside the boat, and you catch Luffy doing the same thing as you, grinning when he turns to look at you. 

“This is— this must be magic,” you whisper, walking to the center of the deck, and holding Nami’s shoulders. “We’re going higher, and higher— we’ll be at the summit within ten minutes, at this rate!”

“It’s amazing,” Sanji is still looking at the fish, eyes sparkling. “To think— all the seas, meeting here— this proves there must be an All Blue!”

When you reach the summit, the sun is high in the sky, and Sanji watches as you look around, gasping at the clouds, and how you can see the Red Line, wrapping around to the very end of the horizon. It’s… adorable, he admits, taking a long drag as you bend down over the railing as if to get closer to the water, Usopp immediately pulling you back by your collar, screeching about you falling and never being able to find you again, to which you pout, arms folded as you were lectured. 

Nami also said a few terse words, pinching one of your ears which you visibly deflated at, letting out a few protests Sanji couldn’t quite make out as you trudged after them. Nami gives in, after a few dejected steps, and you let out a loud trill, hugging her over her back.

“You’re so obvious.” 

Sanji turned, choking a little at how he was startled, snubbing out his cigarette on the side of his arm. He had faced worse burns in the kitchen, anyway. Zoro leaned up against the wall, watching him evenly. 

“What do you mean?”

“You’re just an idiot,” Zoro walked over, standing beside him, leaning on the railing just as Sanji was. If he noticed how he extinguished the cigarette, he didn’t mention it. “We’ve spent over a month together as a crew now and you’re still isolating yourself, stupid.”

“Please! I’ll be good! I’m sorry I was born weak!” The bars are cold against his hands, and his voice is useless in the depths of the castle, where water occasionally leaks in from the ocean, adding a dampness that chills the air. Sanji sobs, hating how the iron helmet traps the wetness of his snot and tears against his skin, how he cannot open his mouth to even attempt to bargain with his father. Isolation, an exile to the bottom of the floating kingdom. That is to be the rest of his life.

“Ah, like you’re one to talk, with how consistently you get lost.” Sanji plays off how unsettled he is by Zoro’s reading of him. Though it’s impossible that no one knows who he is, or even what Germa is, the only outlier being yourself from the North Blue, the first mate has an uncanny ability to sense things within people. But, it works. Zoro scowls at him, focused on the insult rather than the deflection, bickering ensuing. 

The boat lurches forward, speeding down the mountain, and both men hear your joyful whoop as it does so, just able to make out your form beside the figurehead, pointing forward before you let out another whoop. Sanji can’t help but smile, leaning into his palm as he watches you throw your hands in the air as the ship breaks through the cloud cover. 

A loud, echoing horn-like noise fills the air, and you let out a screech, tumbling away from the railing. Sanji and Zoro exchange a glance, just as the noise sounds again. You look near feral, looking back over your shoulder, into the fog, and let out a high-pitched wail. Sanji swears he’s heard the horn before, too. It’s just so familiar.

“It’s just the wind!” Nami attempts to soothe you, but her voice is lost in the wind, and you sprint towards the galley as the noise sounds a final time, a dark shape in the distance, almost like a mountain in the middle of the canal. 

“ There’s a big, fuck-off whale!” You’re screaming, swinging behind Zoro and Sanji and keeping crouched low, shaking. Your eyes are wide, and even as Sanji blushes at how you’re gripping onto him, he’s aware enough to know that you are sinking your claws into his shoulders, instincts for survival seemingly winning.

“And that’s an issue…?” Zoro looks down at you, arms folded, as the giant whale comes into focus. 

“Whales eat seals!”

“But you’re human-ish, right now.” 

If looks could kill, Zoro would be massacred with how you glare at him, hiding behind Sanji who is very desperately trying not to think about how tightly you’re holding him, gripping his coat as if it’s a life float. You let out a loud whine, burying your face in his back as the swordsman still doesn’t seem to get it while Sanji is dying at how you’re whimpering into his back. She’s scared. She’s scared. She’s scared. Do not think this is anything else she is just scared and wait why is that whale so big—

The creature lets out a roar that makes you somehow grip Sanji tighter, climbing him like a tree as you hold onto him, arms around the top of his head and legs looped around his chest, making him wobble, much more top heavy than he’s used to as he grips your forearms, attempting to stabilize himself. Nami screams for you to get it together enough to send the ship through the gap on the left of the creature and you are shaking your head no and screaming about how it was a natural predator to seals. 

Zoro just stares. You, someone who had defied your abuser’s orders directly in front of him, who had snuck away at the first chance of freedom with him, who had been brave enough to ask for help when you needed it…. were insanely afraid of whales. He can’t even comment on it before Usopp and Nami start screaming as well. Luffy’s disappeared, and just as Zoro thinks he’s about to receive a one-way ticket to hell, a cannon goes off, and the backward force manages to slow the ship enough so that it only just (still rather aggressively) taps the whale, still enough for the figurehead to get sent flying backward, nearly crushing a traumatized Nami in the process. 

It’s comical, really, how quickly the crew can go from competency to chaos, as you, one of the more competent people on the boat when it came to sailing, wail about, well, the whale.

All seems calm then, though the urgency is still there, with Zoro forcibly peeling you off the cook so he can help to row away. The whale roars again, and this time it’s close enough to physically shake the ship. Your ears pound and you worry you’ve gone deaf because you can’t hear yourself scream in pain as you hold your head from the position you’re curled in on the floor. Luffy has emerged from the gun deck, screaming about the figurehead, seemingly unaffected, before reeling back, and slamming his fist into the eye of the giant whale. 

And then it all goes silent, the entire crew staring up at the eye as it looks down at them. You’re shaking, because the scent is overwhelming. This is a monster from your bedtime stories. Whispered about in hushed tones from your older sister, trying her best to scare you. Telling stories of the selken folk who were gobbled up, torn apart. And you are an ant to this being, not even a tasty morsel to be gobbled up. You aren’t even considered prey, with the entire ship there. You’re nothing to this gigantic creature and you sob quietly, holding your hands over your mouth, warbling high and terrified, instincts telling you to get even smaller.

It lets out another roar, and you scream, feeling the way the water is pulled into its gaping maw as you pass out, a prayer to the Sea Mother hanging off your tongue as you plead for mercy.

Sanji gets to your side after you scream, sighing in relief when he sees your heart is still beating. Your hands are clammy, and it’s unnerving to feel how cold you are, somehow still alive. They were all still alive, though the cook isn’t too sure about Luffy at the moment, as he glances around, taking in the oddly serene interior he finds himself in. Blue skies, a few clouds, and a calm ocean, with a tiny island sitting before him. Your eyes flutter open with a warble as you look up at him, gripping your head. 

“Where…?” You trail off as you push yourself up further, eyes wide as you take in your surroundings. 

“Not sure,” Sanji helps you stand, keeping a hand on the small of your back. You can’t help but let out a worried warble again. The smell hurts your nose, and you find yourself struggling not to gag. “What’s wrong?”

“It smells… so bad in here.” You groan, head butting his shoulder gently, causing pink to dust his cheeks. “Can’t you smell it? It’s like the inside of the stomach?”

“No, though I suppose I’m lucky for that.” He ruffles your hair as you groan, holding a hand to your nose. “Hm… though if we did get swallowed… that would mean this is stomach acid.” 

“Which means our ship will be dissolved in a few days.” Nami approaches from behind, arms crossed. “We need to find a way out.” Usopp and Zoro are on the lower deck, looking over the railings. You groan, suddenly realizing where this is going. 

“I called it,” you glare at Zoro as he joins you on the upper deck. “I fucking called it and you said I was being irrational.”

“Technically, I didn’t say anything. I just looked at you.”

“You stare at people in essays, Roronoa.” Sanji deadpans.

“I don’t recall asking for your opinion, waiter.”

“I’ll never miss an opportunity to insult you.”

The boat rocks from something, and you let out a scream, watching as a squid rears over the boat. Sanji leans over you, almost on instinct, and just as Zoro readies a sword— a harpoon pierces it from behind, killing it on impact. You’re trembling underneath Sanji, who is glaring down the direction of the harpoon, an old man staring back at him. It almost feels like Sanji is growling as he stands above you.

Safe. Protected. Strong. Good choice for a mate. A part of your mind rumbles, and you bite your tongue to stop the trill that rises in your throat when Sanji looks down at you, concern etched across his face. 

“I— thank you,” you manage to choke out, holding a hand to your forehead, as if that could stop your hindbrain. The cook only nods, looking back up at the old man. There is thick, terrifying anger in the air, and the old man just sits back in his lawn chair, gets out the newspaper, and reads it like it’s nothing. You let out a loud warble, sinking deeper into the deck as your anxiety grips your mind. You are in the belly of a whale, on a sea of stomach acid, with some insane old man. And you couldn’t even protect your pod.

This only seems to drive Sanji to get angrier on your behalf.

“Say something, dammit!”

The old man looks up. 

“Forget it, somebody’s going to die.”

“Oh yeah? Who?”

“Me,” he jabs his thumb at himself and Zoro has to hold Sanji back before he does something. The swordsman no-so-discreetly points to you, with your head in your hands, eyes wide, with a dead-eyed stare. 

“Help her,” Zoro hisses, as he steps up to talk, “Then threaten him.”

Sanji carefully helps you up, and you protest, warbling when he finally has to pick you up. You’re shaking, and he can see how your claws have pressed into your palms, cutting little divots into the skin. You’re entirely out of it.

“Hey, hey, what’s happening?” Sanji sets you down on the couch in the galley, and you shake even harder. 

“I’m useless.” You mumble, curling in on yourself. 

Silence overtakes the room, and he swears his heart freezes. You remind him too much of himself right now. And it hurts. You refuse to meet his eyes, fingers sinking into your hair. It looks painful, especially when you warble into your legs, muffling yourself as Sanji stands there, baffled.

“How are you useless?” He kneels, doing his best to be at your eye level. “You, not even an hour ago, saved up from a bunch of sea beasts.” You shake your head, hair falling so it covers half of your face, meeting his gaze. You look utterly devastated and broken. It makes him feel terrible. 

“I couldn’t— the whale,” you hiccup, covering your mouth with one of your hands, “It scared me so badly, Sanji, It was so loud— I thought I was stuck back— back—”

Arlong’s roar fills your ears as you press your back against the wall. He’s in a fit of rage— some smaller naval ship had attacked him on the waters, and he had responded by sinking it nearly instantly. You shrink into the corner of the room, hoping to be invisible for just a moment as he passes by. Unfortunately, you’re not.

The fishman charges into the room, eyes alight with fury as he grabs you by your arm. You only mutter ‘no’ repeatedly as he drags you to the front of the ship.

“Do you see this?!” He points at the damage done by a few lucky cannon balls, “Why couldn’t you move us away in time?”

You keep muttering, shaking your head at him. The deck has gone silent as Arlong tosses you to the side. You yelp as you slide across the deck, some of the wood causing splinters to stab into your arm. 

“I asked you a question!” Arlong roars. “You’re useless! All you’re good for is to make me an heir, and you can’t even do that!”

“—Hey, it’s okay—”

You shake your head. You can smell Arlong and can feel the weight of your shackles on your wrist. 

“Can you tell me something you can feel right now? Or hear?”

What can you hear? You hear the voice. The same voice that had been singing when you had entered your cycle. Your breathing, yes, it’s loud and heavy, and the boat creaking around you. 

“There you go, you’re doing so good for me,” the voice warps in your mind, familiar. You can feel two warm arms around you, gentle pressure holding you close. “Follow my breathing, you’re gonna be just fine.”

Your chest rises and falls in sync with the man you’re being held by, and his smell is calming. Tobacco and sugar, with a hint of cinnamon. Sanji your mind provides. Good choice. Caring. Strong. 

“You with me now?” Sanji asks, and you rumble. Arlong’s scent has faded, and you realize that it was never there to begin with. Your shackles are much the same, but instead of cold iron, it’s the gentle hold Sanji had on them, stopping you from sinking your claws into your scalp, and from pulling out your hair. “Hey, you’re safe here. We– well, we got this whole thing figured out.” 

Nami’s scent fills your nose, and you whine when she walks into the galley, along with an unfamiliar smell. 

“Who–?”

“It’s… these insane people.” Nami looks at how you’ve curled into Sanji. It looks almost natural, the two of you like that, and it makes her smirk a little bit. This is something she can tease you about later. “But– there’s a doctor here, I’d appreciate it if you’d let yourself get properly looked at.” 

And with that, she leaves, and you only flop harder into Sanji, who just rubs down your back in a soothing manner. 

“I don’t think you’re useless, for the record.” Sanji finally speaks, and you look up at him as he says your name. “You’re probably one of the better sailors on the crew, you’re practically the one keeping this whole thing going.”

“I couldn’t keep my cool–” you protest, and he hushes you, squeezing your nose. 

“Around something that is a natural predator to selkies,” Sanji raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know, but you acted naturally, and warned us about why you were so uneasy. That’s more than admirable.”

“I guess…”

“It is,” Sanji makes you stand, and helps you to the deck. You squint in the sunlight and shade your eyes with your hand. You’re out of the whale now, and it’s now just… sitting next to the Going Merry, which is docked beside a lighthouse. “C’mon, we’ll get on land. It’ll be okay, I promise.” 

You ignore the way your hindbrain keens about the praise he had just given you, and how you are fighting the urge to present to him and do whatever he wants, so long as he praises you again. But, you still hold his hand, as he leads the way.

[swlyf-24]

You set sail alone, there is no crew no one on the deck who can help you

title by ship in a bottle-fin

your story, ours combined: !!

Part I, II

Depression- grief

Seeing the trophy was a moment that will forever be engraved into Lando's mind. Written into history, the image was apart of him. The tapestry woven by their love story had been unstable since that sunday. But now, the tapestry had somehow fixed itself back, giving Lando peace, that he could finally rest. But of course, it is never that quick of a recovery process. The many cupboards and shelves containing medals and trophies felt weightless in memory when compared to this particular one. Weighing tons, as if it carried all the love he had for a deceased, all the memories, all the moments they spent together.

Lando's heart ached. It ached for something, for someone, for someone to hold him again, to whisper reassurances. Even empty platitudes, he would keep in his heart and store close. The lowering sun shone onto the polished material of the trophy, bringing it what almost looks like eternal glow. Shining as if it was the sun itself, that nothing can get brighter than it. As if it was a particular someone telling Lando that he was the one that he'll forever remember and no one else could compare. Lando longed. He longed for something that is unexplainable by words but easy in heart.

A human sized hole carved out from his beating heart and replaced by an endless void. Lando felt like a whale, a hertz whale— calling out for someone but no one understands him. No one understands his unspoken words nor actions that someone destined to him would. Havoc wreaked his mind, corrupting it into sobs and sniffles rather than crafted words. Even with Carlos by his side, an unmoving presence, he felt alone. Lando felt isolated, stranded on a planet with no way to contact anyone, no way to get help. He could only wallow in his suffering, hoping he could escape and break free from the chains that grief has trapped him in. He only wished to tumble out of the quicksand of mourning and the ever repeat of his monotonous life. He felt as if he were Pluto itself, alone and out of place.

Lando never realised that Carlos had left to answer a call when his knees turned into those of jelly. He trembled, hands pale as he searched for stability. How embarrassing it was. All because of some WDC? But, it was never really just a WDC, was it? Lando turned his head, only to dry heave. His back turned against a wall, fingernails turning bloody as he scratched for something to hold onto on the wall. Blood dripped down his hands, the once pale skin into a ruby coloured tone. Staining every crevices of his palm and fingers even under his fingernail. Small circles on the edge of his sight glimmered under the apartment light. His vision turned blurred. Lando couldn't tell anymore. Was it the hangover or was the headache a result of the crying?

Tears collected in a puddle on the ground, seeping in into the carpet. Lando, much like his tears, sank onto the carpet. He curled up into a ball, fingers digging into his calves as he lowered his head and laid it onto his knees. "Lando? You-" Carlos faltered as the concern was obvious in the silence that followed. Carlos stared at the man in front of him. It felt laughable to call Lando a man in the state that he was. He was more of a distraught child who had never been through such turmoil from grief, a child who had never been taught of such.

Carlos sighed. He dropped his phone onto the marble counter of the kitchen as he walked towards the shaking figure. He gently pried the fingers from his calves, uncaring that in the process stained his own hands with blood that wasn't his. Blood that wasn't his. Oh, that's right. He was the one who picked Oscar from that seat. The Oscar who wasn't breathing, the Oscar whose heart had stopped after continuous years of beating. His blood was on his hands. It was devastating. If he had been faster, maybe he wouldn't watch his best friend on the ground, turning into a puddle of sadness. Carlos gripped both of Lando's hands in his tighter. He brought them to his own eyes, sobbing into them without even realising.

In the setting sun of an oncoming Wednesday, two men in in an apartment mourned. Covered in tears and blood, the sunset shone on them as if they were on the centre of the stage—the main characters of a story that was untethered of form, that the spotlight was on them.

"I can't be here tomorrow. Ferrari would bash my head in if I skipped this meeting. I'm sorry, I can't be here." Carlos whispered under the artificial light in the bedroom. The uncomfortable floor digging into his shoulder blades. " 's alright, 'm not a child." a hushed whisper rang out, rough and raspy. Carlos hummed out a response as the two of them shifted on their respective sleeping spots.

<-//->

The curtain filtered out the sunlight as Lando opened his eyes with a groan. In between all the shuffling and moving, he had somehow grabbed the helmet on the pillow beside him and had hugged it. His arms ached from the posture. Lando stretched his hands as his fingers cracked. He ran his tongue over the cracked and healing skin on his lips. His fingers cleaned from blood, as if nothing ever happened yesterday. The weather has been changing recently, from heavy rains to blistering hot light.

The gust of wind rustles the trees as Lando could only stare at the curtains. With Carlos gone, he felt like a puppet without a puppeteer. He had no reason to get up anymore, not like he ever wanted to. He felt like there was something missing. Lando wasn't supposed to be this quiet, no energy character. He wasn't who he is. His limbs felt numb, paralytic maybe. All of a sudden, tears welled up in his eyes as his hands, out of habit, curled into fists as his nails cracked. The pain numb to him as all he felt was a constant sting and nothing more. It didn't bring the relief it used to, but now more of a habit than a search for relief. His throat parched, but the reach for the glass next to him was just too far, too much energy.

Tears kept dropping like the leaves on trees in autumn. It covered the entire span of his cheeks, his nose, his mouth, almost everywhere. The saltiness of his tears brought little to none clarity to him. Lando heaved, but nothing came out. The back of his throat hurt as if someone had been clawing at it to escape. Maybe it was his heart. A cold wind entered the apartment before escaping once more. Lando knew his phone was blowing up with countless messages, he still had a thousand from Sunday. What was the point of answering his phone, if all it does it to just bring another wave of his mind's quicksand crashing into him?

The blood under his fingernails turned into a dark brown, a contrast to the newly formed blood on his palm and fingers. Lando had been scratching at himself, hoping to tear out the skin and the part where this would all disappear, where it was a big bad dream. The ring an uncomfortable cold to his face, but he didn't dare take it off. He would wear it forever. As Lando recovered from the trembling sobs, he took a closer look at the empty spot beside him. It was Oscar's jacket. The jacket which held the note and ring. Lando wiped the trailing blood stains onto his jeans, making sure there wasn't anything that could stain the jacket. He quickly grabbed it and pulled it over his head, relishing in the warmth that it gave him. The weather was not that cold but maybe it was just Lando's mind tricking him.

<-//->

Lando fell asleep, cried, made constant wounds on his hands and arms, fell asleep again. It was a constant repeat of what he had done since the day Carlos had left him. He couldn't tell what day it was anymore. Days and time blurred into those of nothingness. His senses dulled, he wondered if he can still race.

Lando's arms were thinner, his hair was falling out quite often, his limb felt weaker than ever. He was sure he had eyebags under his eyes and skin taut against his bones. Maybe it had been weeks or days that had passed by. The hunger in his stomach clawed at his parched throat, demanding food. But Lando could just not move. No one to help him, he was truly all alone now. His phone on his bedside table, but he was sure it ran out of battery by now. Oscar's phone left untouched under the helmet on his right.

Lando was frustrated. He couldn't sleep anymore, but what is he supposed to do? He wanted to throw a fit like a child; throwing objects onto the ground, shutting the door loudly, scream and cry until someone came back. But he had no energy to if he even wanted to carry out with those childish actions. He could only cry as the tears burned at his skin like acid. Perhaps the tears could be angry for him instead.

Why didn't he spend more time with Oscar before? Why did he only cherish those moments when he's gone now? Why did everything go out like this? Why had their story spit into one? Was Lando not worth spending time with Oscar? Why was death so cruel? Did time not care about others? Why did Ferrari have to ruin everything? Why did they have to have a meeting with Carlos? Why did Lando go into such a state that some would think he became paralytic? Why was everything taking up so much energy now?

Lando spat at himself in his mind. He was angry, he was angry at many things. Even himself.

In a world filled with billions, Lando never felt so stranded, so alone before.

[oogieswife67]

You are Hunting the Seven Seas...

Oops another drabble that hit me super late into the night involving Fellow Honest again. Yes, I will try to do more God Fellow, but I wanna write this down.

WANTED:

THE DREADFUL FOX WHALE

DEAD OR ALIVE

They were asking for so much money for this catch. The beast was known for taking down ships indiscriminately. No one knew how he was doing it, but he was to be stopped after he was said to take down a cargo ship that held valuable spices and fabrics, and the rich man who owned that ship added money to the bounty, almost triple of what it was asking!

You're not going to pass this up, even as you will have to share with the crew you're a part of.

The seas you were sailing through were calm. Strangely calm. The sky was blue with very little clouds. It was usually never a good sign. A storm may have been coming soon, so you and your ship mates were getting the boat and your supplies (and haul) ready for the worst.

The captain was keeping an eye out, keeping his monocular on one eye while his second in command switched between keeping an eye out as well and how you and the crew were doing your jobs.

One of your crewmates was in the crow's nest, also keeping an eye out, especially when there was some rocks sticking out of the seas. He was about to dismiss it, as the sailing master also saw the rocks and was going to turn away, but then heard the crewmate shouting "There's someone there! On the rocks!" they said.

The captain aimed his monocular at the rocks, and sure enough- there seemed to be a young lad! It was hard to see all the details, but it didn't matter. "Go for the rocks!" the captain called out.

The sailing master agreed and headed for the rocks. Once close enough, you take the emergency boat and go right to the rocks. You finally get to see the lad in question- And realize he has cat ears and tail! You've seen beastmen like him before, and most usually don't go out to these waters. You would have to wonder what he was doing out here later, as he was soaking wet and looked like he had been stranded for some time.

You bring the cat beastman back to the ship. The crew wrap him up in a blanket as he was shivering quite a bit, as well as slowly gaining his senses back. His clothes were torn and old. You learn quickly he's unable to talk, so you stick to simple yes and no questions.

"Have you been on those rocks for long?"

Nods

"Are you hungry?"

Vigorous nodding

You go to grab some dried meat that the crew still had plenty of, when the ship suddenly started to shake, as if something hit it! The entire crew panics. You turn to see what was going on-

WHACK!

You get knocked out by the beastman you just saved! The last thing you see is something rising from the seas as the crew screams and grab their weapons...

You'd come back around. Your head hurts. You don't see anyone at first... But you could hear-

GULP!

You get startled and look to where you heard that noise-

There he was...

The fox whale.

The bright over should length orange-haired, fair skinned fox man greeted you with a sly look on his face, staring at you with his bright orange eyes, and his green eyeshadow shining in the sunlight. You found it strange that he was wearing a green vest and long, white sleeves and gloves... Then you realized the "sleeves and gloves" were actually patterns on his skin, then saw a patch of blue on his left shoulder, like he was wearing a cape, while there was a patch of skin that matched his face on his right pinky finger that made the "glove" look torn.

The size of the beast was nothing to joke about. He was much, much bigger than you thought he was. You could swear he ate some whales himself to get to the size he's at. In fact, you realized... The ship wasn't in water.

The ship was balancing on the beast's bloated, fat belly.

You look at the beast in fear for a while, but then change focus when the cat beastman you saved was now on deck, finishing up some dry meat he had in his mouth. The fox whale noticed the beastman, and started to reach for him.

"You get away from him-!" you shouted, but then see that the cat beastman went into the beast's open hand with some dry meat he still had in hand...

And he was transformed into a merman! He still had his top on, but his legs was now a beautiful, shiny purple fish tail with patches of yellow on it. The cat fish gave you a sly smirk as he would be brought to the fox whale's shoulder. "Another excellent catch, Gidel!" Fellow said happily and eats the dried meat Gidel tosses into his mouth.

As the pair seemed distracted, you couldn't help but look over the ship to get a better look at the mass the ship was balancing on-

!!!!!

The green coloring that covered the beast's belly revealed to you what happened to the captain and the rest of the crew, when you could see small divots and movements! You could barely hear them screaming for their lives!

"What? A basic ship?" Fellow asked Gidel, who just nodded. "Just food and weapons, and all the food is gone. Well..."

The pair looked down at you, as you stumbled back in fear. You could see how hungry the fox whale still was... The look reflecting on your eyes... The last thing you'd see...

"Except for this one."

[thatmexisaurusrex]

☀️🌊🚿

I love Sam Wilson for all of eternity

Sam Wilson Ask Game

JESS 😆 Fantastic asks here, lemme answer them 🥰

☀️ Describe Sam’s perfect day.

I think it would 😂 somehow start with him jogging before the day even begins so that he can get to some picturesque place to watch the sunrise.

I feel like then, he would make himself a big breakfast; something with sausage patties and sunnyside eggs and breakfast potatoes with buttered toast made just so.

He'd do some work as Captain America, but not fighting crime; more like going to schools and helping kids plant gardens or talking to community organizers about how he can help them.

Then, he'd stop by Sarah's house for lunch with her and Gideon, just him hanging out with his siblings. They'd maybe take longer than the hour Sam usually took for lunch.

He'd take the afternoon to read a book that he's been meaning to start before he goes to pick Sarah's kids up because he had promised to pick them up that day. He'd talk to AJ and Cass about their day and help them with homework before Sarah gets back home.

He'd head over to his own house after that, where he'd be greeted by Alpine and Figaro. He'd find Bucky starting on food prep and they'd cook together, talking about their days. They'd eat their dinners watching a show they'd been meaning to binge then cuddle up on the couch as they finish a few more episodes.

They'd settle into bed together, Sam snuggled close and feeling safe in Bucky's arms as Sam fell asleep.

🌊 Sam’s earliest childhood memory.

I think it would be on The Paul & Darlene. I feel like he remembers the taste of the salt in the air; the light breeze on his face; his parents making sure his lifejacket is secure on him before he wanders the deck. Maybe he sees a humpback whale and points it out to his older brother Gideon and they both are in awe at the whale's immensity. Sam definitely thinks he helps with the fishing. Darlene lets Sam feel Sarah kick for the first time, and it's when he realizes he really is going to become a big brother. It's a good day for Sam.

🚿 What’s Sam’s favorite song to sing in the shower?

I don't know why, but "Haven't You Heard" by Patrice Rushen is the first song that popped into my head for this and it feels right 😂

[faultlies]

QUESTIONS FOR VILLAIN MUSES.

5. What's makes your muse respect someone? Are they capable of respecting others without reason?

I think she respects people when she sees herself in them.

It feels like a major aspect of her dynamic with Ishmael; how gleeful she is at being obsessed over with the same blind hatred she herself has towards the whale. She praises Ishmael's desire sincerely, fondly reminisces about hearing her voice cry out her captain's name with such malice, and is overjoyed to define herself as Ishmael's whale.

Because it means she's filled Ishmael up with herself. She's made the girl into a mermaid. When she agrees to what is effectively a suicide-pact, it is as much sealing Ishmael's fate to be like Ahab as it is getting her to do exactly what she wants. Only with her support group, as weird and morally questionable as they all are, is Ishmael able to cut the rope that binds the two.

I feel for someone with a god complex like Ahab, seeing someone become like her because of how she affected them is a grand achievement. They're all still disposable, of course. The whole world can be thrown away if it'd get in the way of her whale. Ishmael may earn her captain's respect through how badly she wants to kill her, but Ahab still intends to let her die in a sinking whale's carcass after their final voyage. Again, the office scene is essentially a suicide-pact.

But it is, in many ways, a reaffirmation of her worldview. That she is the absolute; the way the world is meant to be. She is in control.

Why wouldn't she respect her own work?

9. What's a line your muse won't cross under any circumstance?

I think what's interesting about Ahab is how effortlessly she crosses lines and changes her standards in order to stay in control. This is even a notable piece of characterization that drives home canto 5's plot, as well as its themes!

Ahab spends the voyage swearing up-and-down that she won't let any of her sailors die. Then, when Stubb gets bit, she practically kills him herself by revoking his sense of identity to use him. What lays on her deck is only a mermaid; the real Stubb lost somewhere at sea, never to be found. But still alive, she says! A skiff has been lowered to save him, for she'd never let one of her own die!

But he still deliberately sacrificed himself. The fault lies with him. Now he is both 'alive' and a martyr. As the mermaid pallidifies at her feet, she leads her crew in a ritual chant that reaffirms their pledge to the cause. Even the mermaid joins in, vowing its loyalty in the name of who it once was.

Ahab always operates like this. She'll promise anything if it'll bring her closer to her target. She'll break those promises just as quickly, but will use her charisma, groupthink, and manipulation tactics to get you to believe she didn't. After she kills her crew on the way to the whale's heart, and Ishmael calls her out, Ahab deflects that the crew should've been willing to sacrifice themselves the moment they stepped on her ship. She is always redrawing the map of reality, and because she is Ahab, the redraws must be absolutely true.

Ahab defines the line, and keeps redefining it to stay in control.

I think the closes thing to a 'line' she won't cross is giving up her hunt. Ishmael stealing her kill is what breaks her, and it's how Hermann does to her what she did to Ishmael: dangling the promise of satiating an obsession over her head.

@fooltarot , @collectalong