#far cry 3 pirates

[b3ast0fburd3n]

@prvtocol , continued from here

Rook is certainly a melting pot of different cultures. There are dozens of different accents and languages, each one having a handful of users to bond over their shared traits.

Recently, a new pirate made his way to the island, one with specific styling choices for his head and facial hair. It'd been a long time since Eden had seen the mullet/goatee combo. So long, in fact, she did a double take when she saw him heading to the training camp. The man stays firmly planted in the back of her mind as she works. Its the same as it usually is, moving shipments. She'd get bored of it if her own mind hadn't been trained to entertain her for hours on end. The burning sun and suffocating humidity barely phase her, becoming background noise for her silent wondering and reminiscing.

Eden grunts with effort as she lifts the last box and drops it onto the dolly. She waves off the man easing it into an upright position, telling him to leave it with the others. Sweat-wet arm brushes across her brow, trying to save the beads there from dripping into her eyes. She spots Brianne a moment later, trotting over to join her lounging for a smoke break. She forces a smile rather than a greeting, taking the spot next to Brianne on her crate.

"Hey, how do you feel about mullets and goatees? Yes or no?" Eden digs a rock out of her boot as she asks, tossing it at the truck. She nods at Briannes clarification, fishing a cigarette out of the pack in her pocket and lighting with practiced ease. When the second of silence stretches, followed by a blurted reply, Eden raises a brow. Lost in thought, huh. Rare sight for the poised brit. She listens to the answer intently, with genuine interest she doesn't normally have.

"I certainly thought so." Eden had never seen the combination in person, only in movies and pictures from the eighties. "But trends come back around, I think. I heard somebody say that." Her head shakes gently back and forth, as if to say 'but, I don't know'.

"New pirate, rocking the combo." It dawns on her, why did she ask? Did she think Brianne would care? Or did she simply see a friendly face and feel the need to make conversation with what's been on her mind? 'Friendly face' is certainly a new concept to the blonde pirate, but one she's happy to welcome. There aren't many she can just walk up to and ask a random question.

[b3ast0fburd3n]

Eden watches the other pirates snicker with a blank expression. She doesn't speak enough Spanish to parse out what was said. Even if she could, she was just too far out of range to piece together syllables.

Kids in the commune used to do it to her too. She's 'too weird', 'too rigid', 'too mean'. Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. Hasn't worked for her yet, but she's willing to try again.

Her stomach twists in knots as ENVY and PRIDE tie themselves together. She swallows it all the same, locking it away until she can deal with it later. There's work to do, fuck the rest. It can bother her when she's laying down to sleep. Doesn't matter, she could use the extra time to carve another tiger.

The scanning of Beth's eyes doesn't go unnoticed. Eden wonders what the woman is seeing. Or what she's looking for. Eden ducks her head, an unconscious attempt to avoid Beth's judging gaze. Her faux-sweet approach sets Eden on edge. The Locust in our garden. Every step closer has her fingers twitching towards to her knife. An outright attack would be welcomed. She can deal with that. She's almost excited at the possibility to fight someone so experienced. Either she'll come out victorious and not have to worry about the snide attitude anymore, or she'll go down fighting. They both sound just as good right now.

When no violence comes, instead a polite acceptance of her offer, Eden's frown deepens. It might be rude, but it would be on-brand at the very least. The thought doesn't cross her mind to watch what her expressions might be telling the other pirate. She watches Beth climb into the jeep, seemingly without a care in the world, blowing a frustrated puff of air out of her nose.

Eden makes her way around the vehicle, controlling her steps so she doesn't stomp like a petulant child. Two of the pirates get in the back of the jeep, the rest piling into another. Beth's immediate lounging and taking control of the space has her squeezing the door handle in anger. Fine. Fucking fine. Start the car, put on your shitty music, do whatever the fuck you want. She can tough it out for a little longer. Then, once they're back at camp, she can run away to hide in her room. Or bury herself in another task. Either way, Beth won't be involved, she'll thank God when that time comes.

Saved? Fucking saved? Ignorant little snake. She sighs, trying to control the boiling in her veins. "Thank you." She forces through grit teeth. God knows she's lying. He will forgive her. She will repent and He will forgive her fantasies of watching Beth bleed out from her throat. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

As Eden maneuvers the jeep through the jungle, she rolls her shoulders to try and ease some of the built up tension. It comes back quickly when Beth opens her mouth again. Eden wants to break that flapping jaw. She'll have to serve penance for that too.

"Most of us don't play around after or during an ambush." A lie. Most pirates celebrate for anything, especially surviving another battle. She's grasping at straws. Anything to feel superior over the woman. The PRIDE eats at her. He detests all the proud of heart. Be sure of this: They will not go unpunished.

Beth said something in Spanish to the other living pirates, far enough away from Eden to make it impossible to make out exactly what was said. But judging by the men's laughter and nodding and returned, muffled behind fists, laughter, it was something funny. Or, at least, funny to a group such as them.

She took a drag of her cigarette and stood, stepping over the body she'd just looted to approach another. She nudged the corpse with her now dusty ( usually as pristine as possible ) boot. Then, the other spoke again. And Beth's head was quick to whip around and turn her body front and centre to face Eden.

There was something in Beth's eyes, beyond the humour, analysing, and rage — something dark, indescribable. Something you felt like you had seen before but were unable to place. Weathered by turmoil, weathered by age. Weathered by growing up far too quickly and horrid experiences left unsaid.

When you saw that look, a glimpse into something more, how she'd managed to THRIVE was apparent. Beth thrived because she WANTED to, beyond all else. She shouldn't be alive, let alone on the island as a pirate and someone who's FEARED. She was strong, ruthless — Beth wondered how much Eden had heard. From the Pirates. From the Rakyat. From Vaas.

Lips quirking into a grin accompanied her bending down and picking up the body she had previously nudged, slinging it over her shoulder. She gave a gesture and the pirates began picking up the others ( obedient ) . Strolling over, she nodded, a sickeningly sweet edge to her expression. She had noted the clear, inherent dislike and positively loved it.

"If you're offering, who am I to say no? It'd be rude," A shrug as she wiped her sweaty, bloody palms into her cargo pants. There was far less blood than she was expecting, which was always a good thing.

With a surprising amount of grace, the Pirate floated to the passenger's side and climbed in. She tossed her burnt out cigarette, uncaring of where it landed, and switched on the ignition. She put the radio on, humming in approval at the song playing.

"Usually, people say ' thank you ' after their lives are saved. Not that I'm counting, or anything. This isn't Sesame Street," A pause as she then flicked on the awful air-con, lounging back without a seeming care in the world. "You alright? You look like someone shit in your cornflakes, mate."

[dyns33]

Chico

a long Vaas and little pirate story 

__________________________________________

Unlike most souls who resided on Rook Island, Y/N was not born there, she did not choose to go there, and she had not been captured by pirates.

No, she was just on a boat passing by the island, which had sunk due to an explosion in the poorly constructed engines, and she had managed to survive by clinging to debris and swimming to the beach.

No one had seen her. No one knew she was here. Without money, without a phone, without an identity card, but with enough intelligence to understand where she had landed, Y/N had accepted that she had to be discreet and wait for the right moment to leave the island.

For the first few months, she hid in caves and the jungle. It was not easy, because there were many poisonous plants, wild animals, in addition to the pirates and natives.

The natives weren't mean, but a bit stupid. Talkers. They could speak about the foreign girl who wandered near the villages, and Y/N would have became a prey for the pirates.

Then, after nearly dying of starvation, thirst, freezing, or being eaten by a tiger, Y/N wondered if the best hiding place wasn't staying right in the lair of Rook's most dangerous creature.

Vaas camp.

Y/N had seen the leader of the pirates several times, from afar. He was quite scary, especially when he stopped in the middle of the forest to sniff the air and stare at the bushes, as if he could sense she was there.

There were also the stories she had heard about him. It looks like he was as mad as he was violent, uncontrollable, unpredictable. Always on drugs. Thinking only of money and control.

It was for these latter reasons that Y/N thought she had a chance hiding among the pirates.

Maybe she was small, and didn't really know how to fight, but she was good. Smart. Polite and disciplined. If she did the tasks the leader demanded, and didn't piss off the other pirates, then she would find herself a safe lair.

With some regret, she cut her hair, hiding her face as much as possible with two bandanas and sunglasses. Red bandanas, like the t-shirt she had taken from a corpse, covered by a bulletproof vest. With the headband that flattened her breasts, the oversized pants, the gun at her waist, and boots, she looked like a little man.

A little pirate.

As if everything was normal, she joined a group of pirates patrolling the north of the island. They didn't comment, asking her if she wanted some rum, and snickering that the new one was tiny.

They laughed less when a wild dog tried to attack them and Y/N killed it. Living in the jungle for months was learning to survive.

When they offered her rum again, it was with gratitude and respect.

Y/N first stayed in an outpost. It was simple, it was easy. She wandered far into the jungle to urinate or wash herself. She slept little, and in inaccessible places. Conversations were minimal, only when necessary.

No one seemed to suspect anything or care about her.

Nico and Benny were funny. Almost sympathetic, if she forgot that they tortured and killed the people the group caught.

Carlos was a bit scary. He didn't stay at the outpost, he only came by from time to time, to check that everything was fine.

The first time he had seen Y/N, he had made a funny face.

    'Who's the little guy ?' he asked.

     "New recruit. He's good with a knife."

     "... I didn't know we had a new recruit."

But he had left without adding anything, and everything had gone well.

Until it's time to switch teams. It was hard and boring to guard the outposts and those who did a good job were rewarded by being able to return to camp for a while.

Vaas camp.

Contrary to what Y/N had hoped, not only was the pirate leader there when she arrived, he noticed her right away.

"So, you're the new little recruit with a knife ? It's true that you are small, hermano. A real baby. Easy to eat. You know I could easily eat you, huh chico ?"

"Yes, boss." decided to answer Y/N, staying calm and looking at him in the eye.

This seemed to surprise him, before he burst out laughing. He pulled out his gun, pointing it at her.

     "Do you think you're funny, chico ? Do you think I'm kidding ?"

     "No, boss."

     "... No ? You're just a calm and polite little chico then ? Hmm. We'll see about that."

It was seen very quickly. Like at camp, Y/N found a quiet place to sleep, and she avoided everyone when she had to undress. For the rest, she obeyed orders, she was silent, polite, calm, discreet.

Which did not escape Vaas, who seemed to have eyes everywhere, and who seemed to appreciate this unusual behavior.

His fascination didn't lessen after she saved him from a large stone. Chico, as he decided to call her, had become his hero, his little favourite.

     "There was the rock, there were the caves. Mi chico is like a lucky charm, hermano. I can't stay away from him, or I'll be screwed. And he's so cute. Isn't he cute, Carlos ?”

     "Yes, Jeff."

     "You sound like him. So fucking polite. I love it when he calls me boss. Huh, chico ?"

     "Yes, boss."

     "That's right, my little chico ! My lucky charm."

Everyone knew that Vaas loved chico. The pirates kinda laughed at her because of that, kindly. They could have been cruel, or jealous, but Y/N didn't really get any special treatment, and the boss was calmer since the arrival of the little guy, whom they really liked.

That didn't stop the jokes.

Some spoke of the fact that Vaas was in love. Y/N didn't believe it. It was just stupid remarks about the fact that two men couldn't be close in being gay. Vaas visited the whores of Bad Town. He wasn't looking at any man.

No, he was simply fascinated by his chico, nothing more.

Another joke, very amusing, was invented by Juan.

To tell Y/N that the boss was asking for old and very expensive bottles, abandoned in a cave that is difficult to access by sea, and that he wanted his chico to go get them.

It was not true. 

Vaas hadn't asked for anything, and there were no bottles.

On the other hand, the cave was indeed difficult to access, and once inside, Y/N was unable to come out from where she had entered. She wandered the dark tunnels for hours, days.

There was no water. Her flashlight eventually died. And despite the fear of ending up like this, Y/N was still thinking of the bottles, and of Vaas who was waiting. So while looking for an exit, she looked for the imaginary bottles.

She only found an exit, after almost a week, having to climb against a wall, slipping several times, falling, breaking her fingers and a few ribs, but Y/N managed to get out.

First reflex, drink. Second reflex, find bottles. Any kind of bottle, before returning to camp.

It was almost as hard as getting in and out of the cave. The camp was far away. She was exhausted.

When she arrived, she didn't even notice the silence. The bodies near the door, including Juan's. Bullet and burn marks on the walls. Y/N didn't understand at all the looks and whispers of the other pirates when they saw her coming.

Vaas also looked at her weirdly, as she placed two bottles in front of him.

     "Sorry, boss, I couldn't find your bottles." she muttered before trying to go to her little hiding place, to sleep. She fell after taking ten steps.

     "Chico !" shouted a voice. "Chico, wake up ! Carlos, give me some water and call the doctor ! Chico, no, stay with me. My chico. Mi cielo."

Y/N was really too tired to move, or even open her eyes. She felt hands on her face, a mouth on hers, liquid in her throat, then nothing.

When she woke up, she didn't recognize the room she was in. Pink. It had been months since she'd seen that color, it wasn't a color that lasted long on Rook.

Children's toys. And Doctor Hernarch.

The good doctor, who made the good pills, according to Benny.

He sighed when Y/N tried to move, then when she realized that she no longer wore her bandana on her face, nor her bandage around her chest.

     "Are you all right, young lady. Young man ? Vaas brought me a young pirate boy, and he still thinks I'm treating a young pirate boy. I haven't told him, and I won't tell him."

     "...  Thanks."

     "Don't thank me. It's my job. You might have preferred not to wake up. He seems to like you very much. You hold his heart and his madness in your hands. He threatened me a lot, saying he'll kill me if you don't wake up. Maybe he'd like to know your secret, maybe not. Maybe it would be worse, for everyone. I won't say anything, rest."

Y/N lay down as long as possible, so no more than a few minutes, before jumping out of bed to get her things, and cover herself.

Then, holding her stomach, she went downstairs.

Like a lion in a cage, Vaas walked around the living room in a circle, biting his fingers until they bled. He often did this when he was nervous, or when he had taken too many drugs. It could be both. He looked really worried.

     "Boss, your fingers." Y/N said, staying near the stairs.

     "Chico ? Chico !"

He ran over to hug her, kissing her neck, cheek and forehead over and over, muttering insults and tender words.

     "Mi chico... Don't ever do that again. Ever ! Fucking Juan, motherfucker. He thought he was funny, and now he's used as fertilizer in my garden. Asshole ! I could have lost you because of him ! You shouldn't have listened to him, chico. I'm the one giving the orders, directly. You don't leave the camp without me anymore. I should put a leash on you."

     "Yes, boss."

     "Ah, my chico. Always so polite, always so calm. You worried about my fingers ? It's okay, the doc is going to give me some meds, and you could kiss them better. We're going home !"

In the car, Carlos was silent, glancing at Y/N in the rear view mirror. At Vaas too, who refused to leave her, hugging her tightly. The big pirate had been worried too, for her, and for everyone, because during his absence, the boss had started to lose his head completely.

It was a miracle and a relief that she came back.

Purring, Vaas started rubbing against her again, smiling, repeating how happy he was that his chico had returned.

Y/N then thought that the doctor was not wrong. She held Vaas' madness in her hands, and perhaps his heart, and she couldn't decide if it was a good thing or not.

     "I missed you, chico. I feel dead inside without you."

     "Me too, boss."

     "Mi chico." he whispered, laying his head on her shoulder, relaxed at last.

She had answered to be polite, as always. But also because she meant it, and that too, she didn't know if it was a good thing or not.

[jellyfishfieldss]

I'm never gonna finish this cuz fml. Enjoy this doodle of vaas doing that Lucifer pose thing (⁠-⁠_⁠-⁠ ⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠⌒┻⁠━⁠┻.

[kaythefloppa]

Something that 5-10 year old me would've loved to see in Jake and the Neverland Pirates is the fairies from the Tinker Bell prequels. I understand that Disney probably didn't want to connect the show with their direct-to-video movies because of separate branding, (and both properties were slowly coming to an end in the mid-10's) but they were making those movies at the same time as the show. Not only that, the fairies are said to communicate to the NeverLand Pirates from Pixie Hollow through a rock. And it's repeatedly noted that Izzy got her pixie dust from "The Fairies" - Faries that Peter Pan knows... the same Peter Pan who is friends with a fairy... a fairy from Fairy Hollow.

The opportunities were right there. I'm thinking off the top of my head a potential episode (probably Season 2 or 3, fuck Season 4 lmao) - with all these ideas

Rosetta meeting Tick-Tock all grown up,

Zarina teaching Izzy Pixie Dust Alchemy,

Fawn playing with Patch the Pirate Pup,

Silver-Mist turning Mermaid Lagoon into a waterpark for the mermaids,

Iridessa and Brightly the Firefly having a lightshow,

Vidia bullying the absolute SHIT out of Captain Hook and Mr. Smee (and possibly Sharky and Bones) to the point where even the popinjays are crying (don't tell me that wouldn't happen)

Clank, Bobble, just being completely confused with the existence of Bucky but loving him anyways.

Queen Clarion and Lord Milori being like protective mini-parents to the puny pirates

Peter and Tink actually revealing how they met (i.e. the prequel we SHOULD'VE gotten to end off the Tink series)

And my personal favorite, (angst ahead) all of them flying to Pixie Hollow to visit Gruff's cave to visit him in hibernation.

Okay maybe not all of them would've happened, but just food for thought.

[michaelmeowndo]

we love you trans pirate king !!

[prvtocol]

Bri's Lookbook 1/? ᠂ ⚘ ˚

Rook Island Aesthetic: Max Mara trousers, $375 / Reiss linen shirt, $190 / Thursday Boot Company, $199 / Longchamp backpack, $145 / Chanel butterfly sunglasses, $450 / travel hat, $65 / Aspinal of London silk scarf, $210

[broken-balance-baby]

would jason have learned the word bomboclaat in rook or would dani have taught him that...

[lucky82007]

[demonlordcosnime]

lets play far cry 3 part 7

[ztarvokwrites]

How the Monster Trio propose to you

a/n: HI SURPRISE I'M TURNING THESE HEADCANONS INTO A SERIES :3 literally loved writing the last batch of headcanons bc they were so cute so i decided to turn it into a little headcanon series <3 you're welcome! ALSO I LEARNT HOW TO DO GRADIENT TEXT HEHEHE

read part 1 here >> How the Cross Guild propose to you (+ Galdino)

not nsfw! only pure fluff and silliness up ahead!

enjoy and don't forget to reblog if you like it!

Monkey D. Luffy

If you think Luffy is capable of proposing in a nice, romantic way — then you're wrong.

He has no clue what he's doing but he's just gonna roll with it.

Begs Asks Nami to find a ring in one of her treasure boxes, to which she reluctantly agrees upon hearing his reasoning.

Literally proposes to you the same day, in the middle of a fight with some rookie pirates.

Just straight up grabs you and pulls you to him, protecting you as he asks the question and shoves the ring in your hand.

"Hey, wanna get married?"

You're stunned for a moment at his sheer audacity to propose like that during a battle, but the seriousness on his face gave you the impression that he wasn't kidding.

With a simple nod, you put the ring on your finger and continued fighting beside him.

The rest of the crew looked on, dumbfounded at the scene in front of them as Luffy sent the last pirate flying before turning to you and giving you the biggest, sloppiest kiss ever — dipping you in his arms for extra effect.

Brook was the only one to clap enthusiastically, followed by a very hesitant Jinbei.

Party celebration? Yep.

Roronoa Zoro

Again, if you think he's going to propose in a romantic way, you're wrong.

Laziest mf when it comes to proposing.

Gets lost when looking for a ring for you on the island you're currently docked at, returns with said ring like five hours later.

Pops the question in the middle of dinner, making Sanji choke on his food.

"Y/N, will you marry me?"

Just so bluntly asks it that you have to do a double-take as Sanji regains himself and yells at him.

"WHAT THE HELL, MOSSHEAD! YOU CAN'T JUST ASK THAT IN THE MIDDLE OF DINNER-"

"I'd love to, Zo." You put the ring on after Zoro slides it across the table.

Sanji is gobsmacked before letting out a shrill, "WHAT THE FUC-"

Zoro lets you watch him work out and also lets you bathe with him as a treat :)

Definitely litters your skin in love-bites though so be careful of what you wear because I feel like Nami and Robin will tease the shit out of you lmao.

Vinsmoke Sanji

By far the most romantic on the ship, right next to Robin and Jinbei.

After the crew has dinner, he takes you out to the lawn on the ship and makes you your favourite dessert, having Jinbei make sure that Luffy doesn't try stealing any of it.

Sets down a blanket and everything and just watches you with adoration in his eyes as you eat and talk your heart out.

He's quick to conversate, nodding along with what you're saying and chiming in from time to time.

As you two are cuddling together on the blanket, he suddenly gets on one knee in front of you and presents the ring with a soft smile on his face.

"We've been together for a while now and every day with you feels like a dream. I could go on and on with how much I love you, but we'd be here for years if I did," Sanji chuckles, making you giggle in return as tears prick your eyes, making him freeze up in concern. "O-Oh no, are you okay? I didn't say anything wrong, did I? Please don't cry-"

You shut him up by kissing him square on the lips, knocking him over onto is back.

He looked at you with hearts in his eyes as you pulled away, taking the ring with a flustered smile and slipping it onto your finger.

Que him fawning over you for a month straight, kissing you any chance he can get and annoying most of your crewmates.

Luffy and Brook find it hilarious while Robin finds it sweet, though.

starnote: my cough is getting better! i'm not hacking up a storm at night anymore, now i'm only coughing a teeny tiny bit :P

creds to @/saradika for the star divider!

[b3ast0fburd3n]

Atticus Hayes RP Promo

Far Cry 3/5/New Dawn/ General rpc

FC: Brad Pitt (Fight Club)

Age: 34 (2012), 41 (2019), 57 (2035, death)

Birthday: May 9th 1978

Visual info: 6'4, brown buzzed hair, brown eyes, scars everywhere, missing two fingers on each hand (separate incidents)

Occupation: Pirate, Ex Australian Soldier, Eden's Gate bodyguard

Negative Traits: Annoying, pushy, disloyal, anxious

Positive Traits: Outgoing, punctual, lucky, logical

(Will not answer to Atticus, doesn't tell most people his first name)

Hayes was always the life of the party, even after joining the military, earning him the callsign "Riot." He excelled quickly due to his size and strength. In 2002, on a mission towards indonesia, his plane inexplicably crashed. Most of the soldiers survived the initial crash, but were slowly picked off by wildlife, the native tribe and the eventual pirates overtaking the island. Hayes chooses to work with Hoyt and his pirates, throwing away the small friendships he'd made with the Rakyat.

In 2012, he switched sides, feeling fed up with how the pirates treated him and angry with his friend Eden. When he tells her his plan to leave, the two begin to fight. Eden eventually overpowers him, her stamina greatly outlasting his, but she can't bring herself to kill him. Eventually, Hayes leaves Rook with Jason Brody, staying in America with him. He bounces around for a while before landing in Hope County, joining the Project at Edens Gate for his lover.

Hayes is able to escape into a bunker by the skin of his teeth, stuck with a handful of resistance members, and some cultists. After emerging, his is killed by Highwaymen after infiltrating their compound.

Hayes is a secondary character, meaning I most likely won't reach out as him, he is therefore by request only.

[zosan-secondchances]

The Pirate King of the North: Part 6 with Sanji Character Sheet

Main Themes: Villain Sanji, Alternate Universe, Zosan Ship

Warning: Long post ahead with One Piece spoilers. Contains strong language and explicit content.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

In the wealthier district of Sabaody Archipelago, Zoro perches on the roof of a tall bell tower. From afar, he carefully watches a squad of royal guards lead slaves that are carrying two individuals on their backs all the way from Sabao Dome. They finally stop at a particularly large mansion behind high iron gates and thick brick walls. Inside, there is a polished garden that has thick ivies climbing up to the very top of the marble facade of the main building. The slaves set down the heavy carrier by the entrance, then the Celestial Dragon ushers Sanji into his house. The swordsman sighs in disappointment, silently cursing the situation at hand. He’d hoped to have an opening where he can nab the blonde while they’re outside but it never came to, given how many guards there were.

Law continues to speak on the line of his transponder snail.

Law

Don't do anything stupid. Wait for us and just keep tabs on the line.

Zoro

No. No matter what you do, stay away. I don’t think they’ve linked you guys with Curls yet and I'd rather it stay that way. Have you got the rest of the Heart Pirates with you?

Law

They arrived about five minutes ago. They’re…not happy to say the least.

Zoro hears several familiar voices in the background, begging the swordsman for forgiveness and crying out for Sanji to come back safely.

Law

So what now, swordsman? How do you plan to infiltrate the most heavily guarded holiday house in Sabaody Archipelago by yourself? You need my power. It'll take seconds to get him out as soon as I get there.

Zoro

I said, no. Look, these guys don't joke around. If they see you somehow cause trouble for any World Nobles, they'll send an Admiral to hunt you down until you're dead or imprisoned. If I think he's going to do what I think he intends to do, he very well may be turning the entire world against him. 

Law

And…what's that?

Zoro

I think he wants to kill the Celestial Dragon.

—

It was easy enough to hurdle the initial gates, but staying hidden in the enclosed area is proving to be just as difficult as he expected. Zoro can’t rely on staying on the ground as there are too many patrols. And he can’t break inside the mansion from above because that would mean jumping from a far distance and landing with a bang, then dealing with guards on the floor anyway. He decides to push through the only and the most annoying option he has left.

As soon as the opportunity presents itself, he shimmies up the mansion walls, silently praying that the thick ivy vines and trellises that he’s holding onto don't give into his weight. He's never been a fan of stealth missions or anything that required subtlety. Through the windows, he sees Sanji and the Celestial Dragon walking along a corridor and into a room. He follows, traversing through the climbing plants. He stops just under a balcony of the room where he assumed they had gone. He wraps his limbs around one of its support pillars and waits for any sign to see if he was right.

Sanji

Saint Charlos, my dear, I'll need a second to freshen up.

Saint Charlos

Of course! Don’t be long.

There was the sound of a click, presumably the door closing. Zoro jumps and grabs onto the platform above him. He carefully raises himself, enough to peek through the gaps of the balcony’s balustrades. He worriedly looks around when he realises that there’s no one in the open room, so pulls himself up further, shoving a foot between the railing.

Suddenly, a face pokes up in front of him.

Sanji

Hi~

Zoro’s hands slip. He tries to recover himself by flailing his arms around but to no avail. He falls backwards.

Zoro

ACK–!

Sanji snatches him by the collar of his open robe and pulls him back. Zoro takes the opportunity to grab onto the top railing and the blonde’s outstretched arm. He hooks his other foot between another set of balustrades, finally able to get some semblance of stability.

Sanji speaks in a whisper.

Sanji

My god, you are terrible at this. I could hear you shuffling around behind the walls. I had to compensate a lot for you, you know.

Zoro

What–?

Sanji covers his mouth with his other hand, practically slapping it. He tuts, shaking his head.

Sanji

Too loud. But…I can’t help but think how romantic this all is. It’s very sweet of you to put yourself in danger and come all this way, Zoro. You’re not worried about me, are you?

For some reason, the sound of his name coming from the blonde gives Zoro butterflies in his stomach. He blinks dumbly a couple of times, then slaps Sanji’s hand out of his mouth.

Zoro

Curls, we don't have time for this. We have to go now.

Sanji

What, why? I'm in the middle of a heist here. A heist! For money! We're pirates–we like money! Actually, you can clear our way out. At the eastern side there’s a hidden passage that they use as an escape route for emergencies. I've been told it's under a big willow tree. I want you to find it and make sure there are no guards on the way out in two hours. 

Zoro

Two…? Fuck that. Let’s just–

Sanji

You can manage that, can’t you? You know which side is east, right? He won’t know what hit him until we’re way out of here. He’s far too rich to notice anything missing. I’ll have the money and some when I’m through, I promise. 

Zoro

What? Is this really just about…? Curls, this isn't worth it. We can just stick to Traffy’s plan.

Sanji places a finger on Zoro’s lips then gives him a warm smile. The swordsman didn’t realise that the hand that gripped his collar is now splayed over his chest.

Sanji

Shh…too loud. And just…can you just give me a sec to take this in? Please?

Zoro furrows his brows in confusion and looks around, trying to make sense of what the blonde is talking about. Then it dawns on him.

It’s just like what he’d seen on the covers of those romantic books about forbidden love. It’s where the suitor breaks in just for a chance to see his beloved by the windowsill. He played the brave man standing outside on the balcony, trying to win his love’s affection, and Sanji is the girl in a fine dress that he’d been chasing. The cool wind blows calmly through them, giving Zoro the rare chance to see both of Sanji’s eyes up close, bright and blue, looking back at him longingly.

Sanji

Can I try something?

Sanji gently cups both sides of Zoro’s face in his hands then pulls him in, his lips just hovering over Zoro’s own. He pauses there, as if giving the swordsman a chance to back off.

Zoro’s head tells him that he should push him away. By all accounts, with everything that they’ve been through and everything that he’d seen him do, he should be repulsed by this.

But his heart screamed louder at that moment. He finds himself unable to move away. Instead, his open eyelid droops down.

Sanji moves in and places his lips lightly onto his. He parts himself away for a second to look Zoro in the eye, carefully assessing his reaction. When the swordsman tips forwards ever so slightly, he takes the hint. He angles his head and clashes their mouths together.

They start their exchange gently, taking in each other’s sensations. When Sanji teases a tongue between Zoro’s lips, it quickly becomes frantic and desperate. They deepen their kiss as their hands keenly seek and explore each other’s skins, sliding under fabrics of clothing and grasping whatever they can in an attempt to pull themselves closer together.

Finally, Sanji forces himself to pull away before it gets too messy, leaving a trail of spit stretching between their tongues. Zoro couldn’t help but follow the momentum as he craved for more. They both take a second to catch their breaths. The swordsman looks into the blonde’s eyes again, then down to his mouth, trying to process what just happened. The feeling of the softness of his lips and the taste of his tongue on his own linger still.

Zoro

That was…

Sanji smiles fondly and lets out a light-hearted chuckle. He wipes the stain of his lipstick off Zoro’s lips, leaning back slightly to admire the strong features of his face while cleaning any proof of his makeup.

Sanji

Zoro… I…

Zoro slides his hands from Sanji's forearms up to his shoulders, then wraps his hands gently around the back of his neck.

Zoro

Curls…don't kill him.

Sanji's smile fades quickly, then he looks at the swordsman in confusion. His expression turns sour.

Sanji

You're trying to protect them…?

Zoro

No! I–

Sanji pushes Zoro by the chest, jerking himself away, taking backward steps.

Zoro fumbles but manages to catch the top railing of the balcony just in time before he could lose his balance.

Zoro

It's not like that! Curls, I am here because I…. Look, if you kill him, they'll send every Admiral and Warlord to get you and I might not be able to protect you from them. They'll send Mihawk.

Sanji

You think I need your protection? You? The person who's been trying to kill me for–

Suddenly, blood bursts out of his nose, staining the front half of his dress.

Zoro

Woah–!

Sanji

–the fuck?!

Sanji cups his hands over his face and runs inside, looking around clumsily for any piece of cloth to stop the bleeding and to clean himself with. Finally he finds facial tissues stashed on a dresser at the far end of the room.

There was a knock on the door. Zoro was about to hurdle over the railing to help the blonde but quickly skirts the balustrade to hide behind the outer wall instead.

Saint Charlos

Everything okay, princess?

Sanji

Y–yes, dear! Don’t come in yet. I’ll be there soon!

The door bursts open regardless. Saint Charlos saunters in.

Saint Charlos

Are you alright? I thought I heard–why are you bleeding?

Sanji

Of course I am. I’m in the house of a mighty World Noble after all. One has to work up the bravery just to be by your side, Your Grace. Nervous jitters.

Saint Charlos

Ah, I see. There's no shame in admitting it. I am magnificent, especially compared to someone like you. Come on then, my slaves will clean you up.

The Celestial Dragon lays a hand on Sanji’s lower back, ushering him through the door where he came from.

Sanji steals a glance behind him, only to find that there’s no one in the room. He uses his haki but can't seem to sense anyone’s presence. He returns his gaze forwards, feeling torn about the whole ordeal.

—

Thick clouds darken the skies and the rain starts pouring heavily. From under the refuge of an especially large willow tree, Zoro looks up and adjusts his hood frustratingly, trying to keep himself dry. His leg twitches restlessly. He keeps thinking about his last interaction with the blonde and tries to make sense of his own actions. He should hate the guy, but he can no longer deny his attraction to him. When he blinks, he realises that he's running his fingers across his lips, unable to shake the lingering sensation of their shared contact. The worst part is, he didn’t hate anything about it at all, nor did he realise that he had any regrets. He grips onto Wado's handle to keep his hands occupied.

He looks down on the trapdoor located just under the tree trunk, silently praying that the tunnel through it is the correct one that Sanji had instructed him to find. He won't, of course, admit to the other man that he'd gone the complete opposite direction initially. Of course he didn't have much luck looking for any secret passages that way. He just kept wandering around until he found an easy pick royal guard to intimidate so he could show him the way and that's how he ended up here. He almost felt sorry for the poor fellow when he rendered him unconscious and dumped his body somewhere hard to find.

The swordsman quietly wonders to himself if the Sanji had anticipated this kerfuffle, and that's why he had given him two whole hours instead of a shorter duration.

He’s lost track of the exact time, but he’s certain that it’s coming close to the two hour mark that the blonde had set. From afar, Zoro tries to look through the mansion window to check on the grandfather clock he’d been watching, but the rain is so heavy now that it clouded his vision of the landscape, barely able to make the silhouette of the house from where he sat.

The swordsman concentrates on his observation haki, detecting five presences running towards him. He stands and draws two blades, ready to strike.

The group of people come to a halt as soon as they see Zoro up close. They gasp in fear and hold each other's hands. They all have tattered clothes and no shoes, and around their necks are fresh purple and yellow bruises. The swordsman recognises two of the men as the ones that carried the Celestial Dragon and Sanji all the way from Sabao Dome but it looks like they had lost their collars.

When he looks down, he sees a small figure trembling madly behind them. A child with an angry red mark on his chest, shaped like a dragon’s claw, exactly like the one on Sanji’s back. His tan skin isn't textured like normal human skin, but instead, has an iridescent shine to it. On the sides of his face where his ears should be are fins covering a set of gills.

Man 1

That scar and the hair…. It’s–it’s the Demon Warlord–Roronoa Zoro!

Woman 1

What…what do we do? I thought Your Highness said that this path is clear?

Woman 2

The Warlord must be working for the Celestial Dragons and has come to stop us!

The swordsman frowns at that statement. He wonders if he's done the right thing all these years, which is a question that's come up quite a lot since starting this mission to find Corazon.

Man 2

Please–please have mercy! Junior here has never seen light! Just let him go, and w–we’ll stay!

Man 1

No, we've seen what they all do to people like us. We're all dead anyway, but I'd rather die fighting! Son, make a run for it!

The man recklessly charges in with a makeshift shiv in his hand. He lunges at Zoro, who steps aside and trips him with the blunt side of one of his swords. The man falls on his face.

Merchild

Dad, no!!!

The merchild ducks between the other people’s legs and charges angrily. He uses his webbed fists to throw punches against Zoro’s stomach.

Merchild

You hurt him!!

Zoro stares at the small figure and senses that the others are shaking in fear, too frozen and afraid to move. He raises his swords–

The others cry out–

–and sheathes his blades back on his hips. He kneels down to catch the child’s fists with his hands and speaks calmly. 

Zoro

Did the Pirate King free you?

The first man pushes himself up by the elbows on the ground and spits at him.

Man 1

Don’t hurt him!

Merchild

So what if he did?! He’s a kind man and you’re–you’re–

Zoro lets go of the merchild.

Zoro

Your punches are making my belly itchy, that’s all.

The merchild blinks at him, but stops his assault.

Zoro offers a hand to the man he’d tripped.

Zoro

If you’re looking for the way out, it’s just through that trapdoor behind me. We don’t have a lot of time so grab the torch I set up inside and run. Just be careful, I’m not quite certain what you’ll find on the other side of the tunnel.

There was a moment of silence. It takes a second for the group of people to fully realise that the feared Warlord is on their side. The man on the ground takes Zoro’s hand and the swordsman lifts him onto his feet.

Merchild

Dad!!!

The family reunites. They hug affectionately.

Woman 1

You’re…you’re helping us?

Man 2

We know what’s on the other side. I know where we can find a sloop to get out of this island.

Zoro

That’s not a bad idea. That way we can protect you outside too. Just make sure to stay low and quiet until we get back. Do you know where the Pirate King is now?

Woman 2

He said he’s off to the treasure room and then he’d meet us on the way out but…that was about half an hour ago. We thought he’d caught up to us by then so we just ran out ourselves as soon as we could use the rain for cover.

Zoro nods as thanks and proceeds to walk towards the mansion.

—

Not far from the house, a group of royal guards surround a hunched figure wrapped in a large curtain taken from one of the windows inside. The soldiers charge in one after another, relentlessly attacking with weapons on hand. The figure dodges left and right, occasionally taking swipes against them. The figure knocks back clusters of them each time, but in its weakened state, it’s not enough to take them out. They simply stand on their feet again and begin another round of assault.

A royal guard spears right through the figure from behind.

Sanji’s eyes jolt open, the pain that sears through his chest becomes unbearable when the guard twists the weapon while it's inside him then pulls it out forcefully. He screams, his voice breaking. While overwhelmed, he senses another guard somewhere on his left side swing his sword low, slicing the tendons on both his ankles, dropping him to his knees. He readies himself for another direct blow from a guard wielding a heavy mace right in front of him. Over the guard’s shoulder, he sees glints of three lines shine through the mist of the rain.

There was a heavy gush of wind and a flash of green. Sanji was in too much pain to fully understand what's going on but he could hear the clashing of blades and cries for help around him.

Zoro

Three Swords Style…Tatsu Maki!

A powerful whirlwind forms around the swordsman and Sanji, effectively blowing and damaging the royal guards in its wake. They fly up high in the air and fall roughly on the ground, knocking them out. The one who landed right in front of the blonde somehow stayed awake. The guard writhes and attempts to get up, but Sanji throws a heavy punch reinforced with armament haki across his head, cracking his skull. The blonde speaks in a difficult, huffed breath.

Sanji

I…had it all…under control…Shitty Mosshead.

He tips forwards.

Zoro runs, sheathing his swords and catches the blonde before he falls on the ground. When he angles him back, the curtain that wrapped around him slips off his body. The swordsman gapes in horror, shocked at the sight.

Sanji’s dress had been torn to shreds. He’s practically naked under the curtain cover. His heels are nowhere to be found, only having his bare feet to walk with. He has a deep puncture through his upper chest and a nasty cut across his ankles–both fresh and bleeding from the fight just now. The full lengths of his arms are reddened and scratched. One side of his body has a large purple bruise that spans from his ribs right through to his back. He also can’t help but notice evidence of trauma and a messy cluster of teeth marks along his inner thigh towards his groin. As horrendous as the sight of his wounds may be, the worst detail that the swordsman can see is the large metal clamp that hangs around Sanji’s neck. He recognises them as a slave’s chain.

Sanji

Take a picture. It’ll last longer.

Zoro

…Did he do this to you?

Sanji doesn't move or reply. His hair had become heavily damp in the rain, covering his face. When Zoro dips down slightly, he sees the blonde's lips trembling over gritted teeth. He can't tell if the stream running down his nose is from the rain or from his eyes.

Zoro

Did you kill him?

Slowly, Sanji shakes his head.

Zoro’s eye narrows. He feels his hands tighten their hold on Sanji. A pang of guilt washes over him, remembering their conversation earlier.

Sanji

But I made sure that he can't hurt anyone anymore.

Zoro's hands relax.

Zoro

…Good.

Surprised, Sanji lifts his head to look at the swordsman.

Sanji

Just…”good”? You're not going to ask me what I did?

Zoro

Knowing you, it's probably something unpleasant. I'd rather not know.

Zoro notices the curtains that the blonde had used for cover have fallen on the damp grass underneath him, completely soaked in the rain. He removes his own cloak and wraps the blonde in it, making sure that the hood covers his head before scooping him up into his arms.

—

With one of the men holding out a fiery torch, the liberated slaves lead on through the dark winding passageway while Zoro carefully carries Sanji in his arms behind them. He guesses that they’re inside one of the Sabaody Archipelago’s giant roots, hollowed out so that anyone walking through can potentially cross the entire length of the island without anyone knowing. He starts worrying where they may end up but he trusts the people guiding them, simply because there’s no other choice. They all want one thing–to get out of this place alive.

The swordsman is well aware of others’ subtle glances and pitiful looks at the Pirate King but he tries to ignore them to keep his senses focused on monitoring the blonde’s heart rate and breathing. Sanji’s been falling in and out of consciousness and it’s starting to worry him more each time. He wishes his reindeer friend is with them. He’d know what to do.

Zoro dares a peek at the collar around Sanji’s neck. He frowns at the sight then tears his gaze away.

Zoro

You don’t…happen to have a key for this, do you? Or know how to get it out another way?

Man 1

I’m so sorry… it was him who somehow got his hands on one to get us out but we don’t know what happened to it when we parted ways. The last time I saw him, he didn’t have anything around his neck.

Woman 1

It must have happened when he went to the treasure room. We don’t know how to take it off without the right key. We would have already tried to escape if–

Den-den Mushi

Purupurupurupuru

Everyone jumps at the sound, clearly on edge from the potential dangers that could come their way at any second. They all turn to Zoro who fumbles around, trying to answer the transponder snail while carrying the blonde.

Sanji had woken up from the sound and feebly reached inside Zoro’s open robe. He pulls out the den-den mushi from his breast pocket and holds it out for him in his hand, pressing the button on its shell to answer the call.

Zoro

Hello?

Law

Zoro-ya, it's been…

…where are…y…

…did you get…

…there’s news about…

Sanji looks up to the ceiling then around them. He speaks in a weak voice.

Sanji

We’re probably in the dense area of the root system. It’s interfering with the signal.

Zoro

Traffy, you’re breaking up. Can you hear us?

Law

…they know you’re…

…Pacifistas heading your way…

…need to…

…before Admiral…

Zoro

Tra-guy, we have a friend on Grove 44. Duval of the Flying Fish Riders. I want you to meet us at their base if you can.

Law, if you can hear me, go to–

Den-Den Mushi

Click

Zoro tuts disappointingly at the lost signal.

Woman 2

Pa–Pacifistas?!

Woman 1

Wait–a Marine Admiral is coming too?! To get us?!?

The people around them start shaking uncontrollably in panic. The merchild holds onto his dad’s leg desperately.

Zoro sighs but gestures for them to keep moving forward.

Zoro

Let’s pick up the pace. It’s only a matter of time before someone finds us and I'd rather not get caught up in here. We’d get trapped and surrounded pretty easily.

Sanji returns the snail inside Zoro’s inner breast pocket then gives the others a small smile in an attempt to ease their minds.

Sanji

Don’t worry about the Pacifistas for now. We’re not in any danger until they see us. They’re too reliant on their visuals. As for the Admirals…lazy bunch, all of them. Too slow to act. Besides, my friend here will protect us from harm I’m sure. You said you know where we can find a sloop?

Man 2

Y–yes!

The word “friend” echoes in Zoro’s head.

—

They continue their walk in silence, at an increased pace this time. Zoro didn't want to have them running at full speed in fear that it would open up Sanji’s wounds further. Instead, they had to take longer rushed strides.

In one of the brief moments when the blonde is conscious, he breaks the silence by starting a light-hearted conversation, brightening the troubled mood of the crowd.

Sanji

I got loot like I promised. It’s not exactly money but we can sell it for a lot. The surgeon’s going to freak.

Zoro's serious and tense expression softens. He holds the blonde closer, tucking Sanji’s head between the nook of his neck and shoulder after he notices that his body is cold and shivering.

Zoro

I never doubted you for a second. What did you get?

Sanji pulls a small pouch that he'd secured around his wrist by its loops. The swordsman didn’t even notice that he had it on him, too distracted at the sight of his mangled body earlier. The blonde opens the bag with one hand and pulls out a small dark pebble between his fingers with the other, raising it as high as he could muster in front of Zoro’s face.

Sanji

Pure, unadulterated condensed Seastones, baby.

Zoro's eye widens. Then he grins, genuinely impressed at the man.

Zoro

Wh–what? I've never even seen them in that form before.

Sanji grins a toothy smile up to him. Zoro's heart pounds at the sight.

Man 2

Those things?! They’re Devil Fruit user killers–they're worth almost a million Beri each! 

Sanji

I know right! Want one? When we get out of here, you can buy your way anywhere in the world and start a new life.

Woman 1

Your Highness, you can't possibly–

Sanji

Catch!

Sanji flicks a pebble up in the air to the woman who scrambles to catch it in surprise. He does the same to the others. Finally, he gently holds one out to the merchild walking alongside them.

Sanji

Grow up big and strong for me, okay?

The merchild looks at his father, who nods, then takes the pebble from Sanji.

There's a moment of silence, then Zoro hears sniffles coming from one of the women, then the other, then followed by the two men and the merchild that they had freed. They cry their eyes out, thanking the Pirate King and the Warlord as they reach the end of the tunnel.

—

Sanji is unclear what exactly happens next. He knows that he’s been drifting in and out of sleep, blaming his body’s fatigued condition and whatever serum that the Celestial Dragon had injected him with to nullify his strength earlier.

He feels the harsh wind and rain on his face. It looks like the weather has turned for the worst. He hears high pitch sounds of whirring, as if machines are charging up. Then he hears a child scream. Forcing his eyes open, he sees blindingly bright long beams head directly towards them. He wonders if this is his chance to see his mother again.

The swordsman above him quickly takes a step forward, adjusting his hold of him, then swings a sword in three wide movements, redirecting all the beams back to its source. One hits a Pacifista straight onto its face, causing it to explode and knock back the two next to it. Sanji can’t help but smile.

Sanji

Nice… shot….

Zoro

Curls–?! You’re awake! Do you think you can…

Sanji’s vision and hearing gets all fuzzy again, unable to hear the rest of Zoro’s question. His eyes droop weakly, limbs dropping.

Woman 1

…There’s no…

…he’s lost too much blood!

Man 2

…This way, hurry!!!

Zoro

Hold on! Give me…

…anything, just quickly!

Sanji feels a painful pressure against the hole in his chest as the swordsman pushes down a crumpled cloth over it. He thinks that it would be a shame to die now. He doesn’t want to face his mother until he fulfils his promise to help his sister and brothers first. He silently asks her forgiveness for not visiting enough. His world darkens as reality fades once more.

When his eyes open, they’re in the sloop that one of the men had promised. It rocked madly from the torrential weather in the open seas. One of the women and the merchild held him securely in their arms while keeping pressure over his bleeding chest. They’re trying to keep him as stable as possible in the undercover area of the boat.

Outside, he sees the rest of their group all work together to pull a rope on one end of the ship while Zoro pulls a separate one all by himself on the other side. They look like they’re trying to secure the sails above them while dealing with the severe storm.

Sanji

What a nice… family….

Merchild

Hey, uncle! Stay with us, okay?! We’re…

…it’s going to be…

Woman 2

…just about…

…very soon, I promise!

…just hang on!

Man 2

Warlord Zoro! We’re being followed!!

Sanji’s eyes close again. He ponders if the Seastones of the quality he got would help Germa finalise their research. Then he starts wondering if there's a chance that his siblings would enjoy a day out sailing when they finally get emotions of their own without having to rely on those ugly modified helmets. He silently asks them to hang in there.

Sanji

I'm so, so sorry….

When he comes to again, he sees Zoro by himself in the thick of the rain, panting madly. He looks extremely worn and tired.

Bright lights shine from a distance and a continuous barrage of beams break through the fog, directly heading their way. Most hit the water next to them, causing the small boat to rock sideways, almost tipping over the boat at one point. He hears Zoro yell out one of his one-sword style moves as he deflects the beams in one long swipe, sending them off in different directions. He could hear his exhaustion behind his voice.

Man 1

Warlord Zoro! Another rogue wave up ahead!

Zoro

Shit!

Sanji feels the boat shift upwards at a steep angle. He thinks about how much work the swordsman is putting on right now, dealing with Pacifistas, protecting them, and trying to keep their small boat afloat in the storm all at the same time. 

Zoro lowers down almost to a kneeling position and takes out a second sword. He swings his blades synchronously in a circle, creating a massive force of vortex that breaks through the rogue wave in front of them. It corrects the angle of the boat, saving them from capsizing.

Sanji

What a… great swordsman…

His words catch Zoro’s attention.

Suddenly there was a nagging sensation from the right. Another beam is heading their way. Sanji predicts that the distracted swordsman can redirect this attack but the aftershock of the impact would heavily damage the roof of the undercover area and the sloop’s already stressed mast. 

Sanji reaches out and uses his last remaining strength to pull the nearby woman and merchild down to the floor with him.

His prediction is correct, and the events unfold exactly as he saw it through his haki, saving the woman and merchild from getting caught up in the blast.

Sanji worries about the other members of their family. He’s too weak to think about too many people at once.

Zoro rises from under the debris in front of them. Sure enough, he had used his body to protect the others from the blast by pinning them low to the floor. Relief washes over the blonde.

He sees a series of lightning strikes reign down from the sky that makes his hair stand on end, followed by powerful sounds of thunder and huge explosions from afar.

The blinding light of the sun suddenly emerges above them. Sanji welcomes the warm sensation on his skin. The thick grey clouds part, as if being commanded to. The whirring machine noises from the distant seems to have quieted down.

Zoro groans in exhaustion. He looks around and huffs. When he gazes upwards, a large smile forms across his face.

A heavenly being descends from above, waving a long metallic staff in circles. As it does, the clouds part further, creating an area of calm waters in their immediate vicinity. As the creature of light gets closer, Sanji notices long orange hair flowing beautifully in the wind. He catches sight of an impressive tattoo on its arm. When his vision clears a bit more, he finally sees that their saviour is in the shape of a voluptuous woman riding a small bubble ship floating down to their damaged sloop. She waves at them over the side with a bright smile on her face.

Sanji

An angel… from heaven…?

Zoro

NAMI!!!

----------

I like to think that in every universe, Sanji worships Nami in different ways.

I initially really wanted to draw the balcony scene as an opening to this chapter. The whole kiss kiss smooch shebang. But as I was doing it, I noticed some inconsistencies with Sanji's design. I figured I'd do a character sheet for reference to hone down on it first before I flesh things out too detailed.

Zoro's character design definitely needs some love though. Maybe I'll do his next.

[merlucide]

SEA’S SECRET ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Notes: um.. I did it :3 KIRA WORLD BUILDS! NOT CLICKBAIT!

pairings: merman!chigiri x mayor’s daughter!reader

wc: 1.9k

warnings: reader is fem, thalassophobia(?), the best thing I’ve ever written

chpt: 1 2

(pls imangine pirates and the Caribbean vibes!!) inspo hehe

You often find yourself walking up and down the seashore. It’s a place of solace for you, the sound of the waves and the salty breeze never ceased to bring a wave of ease over you. The seashore was a stretch of golden sand that curved gently around the bay, bordered by rocky cliffs. Palm trees swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves singing a calming tune. Small crabs scuttled across the sand, and seabirds called out to each other as they wheeled in the sky above. You like to look around for shells and pearls. When you find one, you take them to the sailors for them to tell you what they are.

The sailors would tell you mystical tales of the sea. You loved their stories—you knew they weren’t real, but you liked to pretend they were.

They’d tell you about the legends of the sea, stories about ghost ships, the kraken, sirens, and mermaids. The tales always made you eager to explore the vast ocean. You knew that wasn’t realistic, after all, you were the mayor's daughter. Your life was prim and proper, with not an ounce of adventure. You had many marriage proposals, but you turned them all down. Your father warned you that if you didn’t decide on a suitor, he would have no choice but to arrange a marriage for you.

It angered you to no end. Your life had barely begun, and everything had been decided for you. Your father’s warning had been the final straw, pushing you to the brink of rebellion.

That’s when you ran off to the shore, your heart pounding with a mixture of anger and desperation. You had snuck out of your estate at night, very careful not to draw any attention to yourself. The town was quiet, the usual hustle and bustle of merchants and sailors replaced by the soft lapping of waves and the occasional call of a bird. Lanterns flickered in the windows of the small buildings, casting a warm, glow on the cobblestone streets.

You headed towards the docks, looking around for a small rowboat you’d seen the fishermen take. You found it sandwiched between two sailboats, their tall masts swaying gently in the night breeze. You grabbed the oars and looked around to make sure no one was watching you.

You stepped into the boat, slowly lowering yourself down until you were stable. You pulled the oars, gliding into the water. You continued until you were far away from the dock. The moon reflected off the water, giving it an enchanting feel. The water was rather still, with only gentle ripples disturbing the glassy surface.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you were alone with your thoughts, away from the suffocating expectations. The sea was your sanctuary, a place where you could be free, even if just for a night.

It wasn’t fair. You had dreams, desires that went beyond the confines of your father’s mansion and the expectations of society.

You sighed peered over the side of your little boat, looking at the stars through the water. The surface was calm, reflecting the moonlight like a mirror. As you gazed into the depths, you thought you saw a glimmer, a flash of something that wasn’t quite right.

Then, you saw them—two luminous eyes staring back at you from the deep. They were unlike anything you had ever seen, glowing with an otherworldly light that sent a shiver down your spine.

Your heart raced as your mind scrambled looking for an answer, perhaps you were seeing things? But the eyes were unmistakable, fixed on you with an intense, almost curious gaze. You opened your mouth to scream, but no sound came out at first. Then, a second later, you found your voice and let out a piercing cry, jerking back so violently that you lost your balance.

You screamed and jumped back, losing your stability and tipping over, falling into the dark deep ocean. You kicked your legs, remaining afloat as you attempted to set your boat back up. The panic surged within you, fear of what was lurking below making your heart race. You continued to try to flip your boat, but with no success. Your breathing was heavy as you desperately pleaded for the boat to flip.

You felt ripples hitting your leg and frantically looked around for whatever caused them. Suddenly, your boat flipped over with a big splash. You desperately tried to pull yourself up, which was rather hard since you were in the water. Hands grabbed onto your calves, pushing them up. You screamed, grabbing onto the boat and finally pulling yourself inside. You hunched down and clutched the sides, trying to calm your racing heart.

Once you had caught your breath, you desperately looked around for the mysterious eyes you saw. “Who’s there?!” you yelled. “Hello?!”

You held on tightly to your oar, the other one most likely sinking below. Your eyes were heavy with tears when a trickle came from the end of your boat.

You snapped your head over to the sound. The eyes you were met with previously stared back at you. You couldn’t make out much of its appearance due to the night, but its eyes were reflective, standing out in the dark.

“W-What are you?” you stammered, your gaze wide.

“…I… I am…” its voice hesitant “..a merman.”

Your eyes were as wide as they could possibly be. You couldn’t believe what you had heard. It wasn’t possible. There’s no way. But, considering the position you were in, you had no other choice but to believe him.

“…A mermaid?” you asked yourself.

“…..I’m sorry for scaring you… I didn’t think… you would be able to see me,” the merman apologized, his gaze lowering.

You repeated the word “mermaid” a few times until he swam closer to you. You clenched your oar, ready for whatever might happen.

“..I will get you to the shore, alright?” His hands perched on the side of the boat, and you could almost see him now. He had raspberry-colored hair across his face, styled into a half braid. His eyes were a magenta color with cat-like pupils. He had shimmering scales littered on his cheeks and larger fins on the sides of his head. He was… enchanting.

You nodded your head with a soft “alright.” He returned the nod and swam to the back of the boat. Hands on the ledge, he pushed the boat through the water.

You sat hunched in the small boat, drenched and trembling, your breath coming in shaky inhales. The cool night air bit at your skin, but you hardly noticed, consumed by the shock of the encounter. Your heart pounded in your chest, the rhythm erratic and wild.

You clung to the sides of your little boat, the wood rough under your fingers, trying to ground yourself in the midst of this surreal experience.

It was silent aside from the sound of water. You headed towards the town, but not toward the docks, instead toward the shore by the cliffs.

You finally arrived at the beach. The water was up to your bust. He stopped pushing the boat.

“This is as far as I can go,” the merman told you.

“I- thank you,” you said and looked at the shore.

“..I will be off now,” he told you, backing away.

“W-Wait!” you impulsively yelled out.

He stopped and turned toward you, caught off guard.

“I- ah… will I, see you again?” you asked. You had just met a merman. They were supposed to be just some sailor’s tale, and here you just met one. You needed to see him again, to know if he really was real.

The merman’s mouth opened slightly, then closed.

“Perhaps… if fate allows it,” he replied quietly.

“I- Tomorrow, here at sunset?” you hesitantly asked.

He pressed his lips together before nodding. He ducked back below the sea. You watched the ripples spread across the water.

You hopped out of the boat into the water, walking to the shore. You dragged the boat onto the sand and collapsed to your knees.

You couldn’t believe what had just happened.

As you laid there, the events of the night replayed in your mind. You had come out here to escape the confines of your life, to find a moment of freedom away from your father’s demands.

And then, you had encountered a being of legend— a mermaid. The very idea seemed impossible, and yet it had happened. His eyes, so alien yet mesmerizing, haunted your thoughts.

Who was he? You didn’t even know his name. The realization struck you with a sudden urgency. The merman had saved you, had spoken to you, and yet you knew so little about him. What was his world like beneath the waves? The sailors’ tales had always painted mermaids and mermen as dangerous and unpredictable, yet he had been gentle, almost hesitant.

You lifted your head, staring out at the dark expanse of the ocean. The water was the same as you boarded your boat, as if the encounter had never happened. But you knew it had. You had seen and felt things that couldn’t be explained, things that made your heart race with excitement rather than fear.

Slowly, you rose to your feet, your legs shaky. You looked back at the boat, then turned towards the town. Each step was heavy, your wet nightdress clinging to your skin and the weight of the night’s events pressing down on you. As you walked, the familiar streets seemed strange, as if you were seeing them through new eyes.

The town was quiet, the occasional flicker of lantern light casting long shadows on the cobblestones. You passed the houses of neighbors and friends, their windows dark and their occupants asleep. Everything seemed so ordinary, so mundane.

Would he really be there tomorrow at sunset? The thought filled you with a mix of hope and uncertainty. You wanted to see him again, to prove to yourself that it hadn’t all been a dream. You wanted to know more about him—his name, his world, and the mysteries that lay beneath the waves.

By the time you reached the gate of your estate, your thoughts were a tangled mess. You slipped inside quietly, careful not to wake anyone. The grand house loomed before you, a reminder of the life you were expected to lead. But now, with the promise of the sea and the mysterious merman.

You climbed the stairs to your room, tomorrow, at sunset, you would return to the shore. You had to know if the merman was real, if the world held more than the life laid out before you. As you crawled into bed, your wet dress clinging uncomfortably to your skin, you clung to that thought. The ocean had given you a glimpse of something extraordinary, and you were determined to see where it would lead.

You needed to understand the world that had been hidden from you for so long. The longing for adventure, for knowledge.

Sunset couldn’t come soon enough.

next part

taglist: @gigiiiiislife @sharkissm @luvingshidou @kurona-theshark @soleilonthesun @duckydee-0 @rinitoshisgirl @someprettyname

HOLY SHIT. YALL?! I DID IT!!! OMG PLS THIS TOOK ME SOSOSO LONG TO FINISH?!? I HATE WORLD BUILIDING. BUT I DID IT!!? OMG AND I USED FANCY WORDS YALL SHAKESPEARE WHO??? I’m so happy w/ how this came out omg pls lemme know what you think!!

also uh should I make a pt2 ..?

made June 20th 2024

[nightmare-foundation]

Honestly it lowkey annoys me whenever people say that Michael has 'very little personality' outside of hunting down his father.

N like- on the surface, that seems true, but like. If you look deeper, that's... not really true?? Because there's a LOT that actually speaks to his character, but you have to be willing to catch onto the connections his character has

Like, for example, Michael has a very straightforward way of speaking. He's dry and sarcastic ("They thought I was you... [laugh]"), has a foreshortened sense of the future (the drawing of a gravestone in the security logbook), not to mention the dialogue of foxybro in fnaf 4. He doesn't beat around the bush, but he's bitter and dry and sarcastic. Even as an old man, his anger and cynicism towards Freddy's shows in his drawings, but he has a sense of humor (the exotic butters and casual bongos referenced in the logbook, not to mention the silly drawings), plus he's sentimental (as said before, exotic butters and casual bongos). Not to mention he's stubborn as shit, given he keeps coming back to Freddy's, even after 30 whole years.

A lot of people also really like to write Michael off as being stupid, for... some reason. The games really say otherwise; the fact that he tampers with the animatronics regularly, figured out what his father did and what happened to Elizabeth in less than a week, freed the dead kids, helped make FFPS and ran a business, likely Also made the fnaf 3 location too, knew what was gonna happen to him in SL (pretty clear given the fact you can ignore Baby's directions on the last night), can manage several animatronics at once throughout an entire night...

Michael is very clearly Really Fucking Smart. Smart enough that I'm willing to bet that was one of the reasons why William sent him to the SL bunker. Michael is FAR from an idiot, and the FNAF movie even proves this further! He's SCARILY smart!

There's a lot more too; him using a red foxy mask speaks a lot to his character too. Red is often used to denote everything from passion to anger (yknow, 'seeing red' being a term for when you're blind with rage), and he wears it the entire time he bullies CC. It's not just a literal mask, it's figurative too; Michael puts up a mask of anger, he pretends to be this scary bully. The cruelty isn't real, Michael is just the scapegoat and he's acting out (very very common).

Also, Michael is 100% who you play as in fnaf 4 based on the movement, and who rubs away in Midnight Motorist. CC is the type of kid to freeze up, curl up into a ball and cry when he's scared, as seen several times in fnaf 4. It wouldn't make sense for him to suddenly turn around and start running around, or fighting back. It's very Michael to run around, constantly looking around, or to break out and run away.

Another note on Michael's character is that he's associated with Foxy. The Funtimes are clearly modeled after the Aftons (Ballora and Baby are, why wouldn't the rest match CC (Freddy) and Michael (Foxy)?), and using that we can gleam some parts of Michael from FT Foxy (since William clearly was trying to mock and make fun of him with the angsty teen voice). FT Foxy is a performer; he's dramatic, he's vicious, attacking even when he 'shouldn't', and wants his stage solely to himself.

This fits Michael; Michael put on an act of viciousness and cruelty, always attacking when you least expected it. So it makes sense that Michael, too, is a performer, and FFPS hammers this in using the business bear. Again, the mask represents Michael acting, pretending, and it wouldn't be the first time an Afton would pretend (William, Elizabeth, and to an extent, CC). The rest of the Aftons are also theatrical and dramatic, so again, this tracks. He's also represented as one of those hand puppets in the ffps alleyway poster, something used to ACT.

And again, with Foxy, we can gleam that Michael likely is also a sort of 'leader' figure, since Foxy has been depicted as not just a pirate captain, but also as a Ringleader. This also tracks, not just bc the Aftons have a circus theme, but Michael is the eldest of his siblings, and thus the de facto 'leader'. He's the first to act, to put things into motion when everything 'ends'. Foxy is also, well, a fox, which are depicted as cunning and intelligent, which only lends credence to Michael being intelligent.

It's also implied that Michael... doesn't really care about people who Aren't his family?? Whether that's by blood or not, he doesn't care abt others who isn't his family. This is implied by the fact that he only cared about freeing Elizabeth, showing absolutely No care about the Funtimes despite them clearly being sentient. Not to mention the lawsuits he regularly gets in FFPS, or the state Fazbears Frights is in in fnaf 3. And, judging by Henry's final speech, he and Michael just. Don't seem to talk At All. At the very least they definitely don't communicate since Henry assumed Michael wanted to die (which is left Very Ambiguous).

Honestly this doesn't even BEGIN to get into everything that the Glitchtrap Michael theory says about his character that also hammer in all of these traits Even Further.

And like. Michael is SOOO much like William when you put all of this into perspective. Like, they are SIMILAR similar, but differ in ways that are important. Michael is a performer, an actor, he doesn't care about anyone outside of his family, he's stubborn as fuck, he's smart as hell, he's sarcastic and dry, etc.

He has SO. MUCH. CHARACTER. You just have to dig a little- this is ALL gleamed from the games and Security Logbook. There's more if you believe he's Glitchtrap- which he very likely is.

Just... it's nuts. He's such an intriguing character, he's not perfect and he's morally gray, yet people love to dumb him down to "hehe sad uwu arsonist zombie boy who's also Stupid"

Please just let Michael be a problematic old man (he was born in the 60s ffs, he's almost in his 60s by the time ffps rolls around).

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Paper Pirates 2.

MDNI

2/3

An unconventional pirate on an unconventional crew, you struggle to solve the problem you created (and understand WTF your captain wants from you).

Shanks x f!reader (fairly gender neutral in this part)

Warnings: Violence, blood, death, broken bones, self-esteem issues, everyone's an idiot

It was supposed to be a two-shot.

A/N: Not thrilled with this chapter's quality, but whatever. PART THREE WILL BE UP THIS WEEKEND AS PART OF MY WINTER SOLSTICE EVENT. There will be smut. Just thought you should know. ;P

Rain patters over your umbrella.

The precipitation has driven the street vendors to shelter, and voices carry from crowded taverns and restaurants.

The downpour casts everything in a haze, but it isn't enough to hide the six hunters.

You shift your cover to your nondominant hand, resting the bamboo pole against your shoulder. Closing your eyes, just for a moment, you take a deep breath. The weather casts a chill over the island, just enough to fog your sigh.

Your keen eye catches more than numbers. And, anyway, you’ve been waiting for these fucks: bounty hunters with the grace and subtlety of green Marine recruits. They’d been asking around for you, making loud threats and boasting over drinks in pirate taverns about their plans to snare on of the Red Hair Pirates.

Calling them amateurs would be too kind.

And you’re in a mood.

“Put down your weapons and surrender!”

The man stands five feet away, leering out of an alley like a common mugger with a shitty little rapier leveled at your throat. He isn’t carrying a gun, so you face him, covering your back with umbrella.

In the time it takes him to blink, you’ve drawn your revolver and plugged his chest with lead. You drop to a crouch, and a musket ball pings harmlessly off your cover. Confused shouts echo over the street.

In the same breath, the woman waiting behind the crates ahead charges with a war cry.

You pull the trigger.

Her axe drops to the mud. Blood pools in the corners of her eyes, fixed on the clouds. The bullet hole in her forehead starts collecting rainwater.

A spearman rushes from behind, and you fling aside his attack with your umbrella, pushing your revolver under his chin. He doesn’t have much of a face left when he falls.

The next two move together, trying to flank. It’s better strategy than the others showed, but they still don’t seem to understand how you’re wielding your umbrella. One kills himself with a point blank shot that ricochets off your shield and through his throat. You bring down his friend with a shot through the eye.

Only one left.

A sniper on the far roof.

You brace to catch the slug with both hands on your umbrella’s pole, and it cuts through a blade of grass to your left. Before you can go after him, he yelps, and you raise your umbrella back over your head to watch the teenager, off-balanced by his rifle’s recoil, sliding off his perch.

He lands with a splash and a crack.

As he howls, clutching his broken leg, you prop the umbrella shaft under your elbow. The cylinder swings out of your revolver, and the casings bounce off the sparse gravel around your boots. You take your time, sliding a single cartridge into the chamber. The boy is screaming, trying to cradle his leg and crawl away.

Five steps, one for each of his dead comrades, brings you to his feet. You sit on your heels. Look him over.

“You need to be incredibly strong or exceptionally lucky to survive this kind of life.” The revolver rises between you. You hold the boy’s eyes as you spin the cylinder.

He’s shaking. Thick strings of snot resist the rain pouring down his face, and although the weather hides some his shame, his bloodshot eyes confirm he’s crying. Well. You cried the first time you broke a bone, too. And you didn’t have death perched by your ankles.

As your finger squeezes the trigger, you know what will happen. Another shot between the eyes and a sixth body in the streets. You smell the gun smoke and feel the recoil in your wrist as the puddle below the rookie turns ruddy.

You’re out of step with the present, reaching just a fingertip past the surface of the future, watching it ripple.

The barest flick of your wrist in the moment present and future meet sends the vision to pieces.

The bullet grazes the kid’s ear, diving harmlessly into the puddle. He takes a minute, staring, breathing, trying to figure out whether he’s alive or dead.

Mercy is for the strong, for people who are so secure in their power they can afford the risk – because it isn’t a risk at all. You aren’t that strong, and you killed to stay alive. Stay safe. Keep working.

But this boy isn’t a threat, and for the first time in a long time, you’re secure in your power.

Your bounty is new and ill-informed. Word hasn’t spread that you’re any kind of haki user, and every fool with a point to prove and a hole in his pocket thinks you’re much weaker than you are.

There’s space, here, as the rain fades and the gutters drip, for a little mercy.

“You aren’t strong. And you aren’t lucky.” You rise, towering over the prone bounty hunter. “Go home.”

He nods, blubbering, and drags himself away. You only watch until he’s cleared the first corner, clearly desperate to escape your sight.

You empty the cylinder again and load five new cartridges. It pays to be prepared, after all. This isn’t the first fight you’ve had in the last few months. Just as you finish your work with a click, a whistle shatters your reverie.

“Oi! Oi! Our nerd is scary!”

A chuckling chorus answers the cry, and you glance over your shoulder to find a herd of Red Hair Pirates watching at the end of the street. Lucky Roux grins, tearing into his latest hock of meat, delighted with himself. Bonk Punch, Monster, Hongo, and a gaggle of lower crewmembers block your way.

Spinning your umbrella to dispel the worst of the damp, you fold it up and rest it on your shoulder. Your revolver returns to its holster, and you smile politely, like these men hadn’t abandoned you for an entire year.

You’re happy to see them, so see so little – nothing really – has changed. It feels like needles in your heart.

“Get bored?” you ask, strolling to meet them. “Stop for the show?”

The corpses you pass don’t matter. Someone will loot them. Someone will bury them. Maybe their hobbled apprentice will claim their bodies.

You’re only half crew, but you’re all pirate these days.

Hongo lifts an eyebrow and lifts his chin so he can look down his nose at you. Unlike Lucky Roux, he’s all commander in the moment.

“You weren’t where we left you. Been following your trail for three weeks.”

You shrug, spreading your arms, playing it light. “Then you must know why I had to improvise.”

Monster screams from Bonk Punch’s shoulder, the monkey holding up one of your new bounty posters. It’s insultingly low, but it’s a clear picture. And it’s a problem.

Teeth grit, you try to smile again, tapping your umbrella against your shoulder.

Are you in trouble? You haven’t done anything wrong. You’ve betrayed no secrets. That’s why you have the fucking bounty in the first place.

“Well, I’d like to hear the story firsthand!”

The needles pierce deeper, and the crew parts for their captain. He swaggers up to you, all smiles and jokes as you roll the umbrella’s handle between your fingers. It isn’t a daydream. It isn’t a nightmare. It’s the same reality you keep telling yourself is fine, fine, fine, until you snap, snap, snap.

“What do you say to a drink?”

“I’ll meet you there.” You point the way you’d been traveling before the fight.  Practicality to the rescue. “The data’s in my lodgings.”

“Work can wait,” Shanks says. “This is a reunion!”

You don’t have anything to celebrate, and the idea of liquor makes you sick. Sitting with everyone like you were one of them when you know you’re not. The past year taught you that, no matter what the bounty poster said about your affiliation.

He can’t read minds, but Shanks must see something in your face, because he changes tac with a snap of his fingers. “Not a bad idea to get your stuff before we drink, though. We won’t remember a thing in the morning.”

His men laugh, you obligingly cringe a smile, and just as you turn to do as you said, a heavy arm falls over your shoulders. It yanks you fast to the captain’s side, and you stumble, off-balance, crashing into him.

He’s so terribly real. A physical obstacle with scars and a heartbeat. Even through his shirt and cloak, he runs warm.

He smells just the way you remember from the close quarters on the Red Force. Juniper, oak, and sake.

If you don’t get out of this soon, your plans won’t matter because your traitorous heart will explode and you’ll drop dead.

Ever since your drunken revelation, you’d wielded denial as an emotional tourniquet, but it does nothing in the Emperor’s overwhelming presence. He smiles, and you bleed internally.

He doesn’t let go, and you steer the pair of you to the shitty little loft over the local stable. Shanks lets you enter first, finally allowing you to duck out from under his arm to unlock the door and disable the basic trap you’d left for petty thieves. He peers around, taking in the spider webs between the high rafters and the drifts of straw left from the loft’s old storage days. You have a cot, your little travel chest, and a window overlooking the street.

Shanks sits on your bed, bouncing like a child. “You owe me a story.”

You grunt and kneel next to your trunk. You’ll take inventory as you regale him with shit he surely knows. No matter how this encounter ends, now that the crew’s been through, the island won’t be safe for you on your lonesome.

“Everything was fine for three months. Standard practice.” You lift out the portfolio you’ve crafted since you last stepped off the Red Force. Trade notes, harvest records, changes in municipal government and population. “Then a ship full of marines pulled into port and swarmed the office I’d rented.”

The bed creaks, and you glance back to see him leaning forward, arm over knee, frown bending his face.

“They insisted I was a good person who bad people used. Said they’d make me rich and safe if I spewed something juicy about you and the crew.” You pause, but you don’t look at your captain again. You listen, though. His breath is steady. Even. None of this phases him. “Of course I told them to go fuck themselves. Then I was a bad person doing bad things for worse people, and they said we’d continue the conversation in Impel Down.”

A flutter of haki shakes dust from the rafters, and you wonder how much angrier he’d be if you’d taken the easy out.

“There were fifty marines surrounding the building. I took out a few dozen and left before reinforcements could arrive.”

“Was that when you were shot?”

Of course he knew. He was just checking your story. Making sure you hadn’t turned rat. Did he get you alone so he could dispose of you without hurting morale if he wasn’t satisfied with your answers? It would be efficient. And Shanks was ruthless once crossed.

“No.” You check through your clothes, the few toiletries worth keeping on hand. Your Berries are where you left them. Enough to live off for half a decade if you had to. “That was at sea. Between islands. I was on a civilian ship and some rookies attacked. They were pretty shit, honestly, but there were a lot of them, and the civilians panicked. Not even sure who landed the hit.”

Your first aid supplies are safely stowed bellow your gun cleaning kit. The ointment for your scar is still half full. Traveling heavy is a bad plan, but you don’t want to lose mobility in your shoulder if you run out between ports. Maybe you should find a local apothecary to whip up a similar treatment. Just so you have some spare.

The glass bottle casts green sprites around the room as you study it. You meet Shank’s warped gaze in the bottle’s reflection and catch your breath.

One by one, your belongings return to the trunk. A tally of your life. A sad collection, frankly. You’d thought you were trading material comforts for a ship full of comrades, for a different kind of fulfillment. But you don’t have that, and you don’t have the trappings of a house, garden, and sleepy old dog to prove you’ve lived, either.

“It’s very difficult, you know,” you muse aloud, “being on your crew and off it at the same time.”

Shanks clicks his tongue, and you hear him lean back from that focused slouch. “You’ve never been off the crew!”

“Semantics.” His objections are so easy to wave off when you know he won’t be your captain for much longer. “My point is, shit like the little drama you saw earlier is becoming more common, and now that I have an actual bounty, it will get worse. When I was just someone who may or may not have been attached to the Red Hair Pirates, I could balance respect and disinterest with the locals.”

“Oh?” Fuck the grin you can hear in his voice. “Attached?”

You won’t be distracted. There are things that need to be said, and you’re happy to have this conversation away from the rest of the crew.

“Captain, I’m being serious. No one showboated for more than a week when I’d settle someplace new, and they were much less concerned with hiding anything underhanded. I could do my job the way I’m supposed to. But now…” The trunk claps shut. You turn the lock. “The situation has changed, so the process should change, too.”

“I’m listening.”

Finished with your work, you angle yourself around, sitting cross-legged on the filthy floor. “I think it’s time I distanced myself.”

You can watch his reaction this time. How he reels back, brow furrowed like you’d just called him ugly.

“What?”

You’ve had a lot of time to think over the past year, and while it’s a complex problem, you’re good at solving those. “I’d still work for you, but I’d train anyone you chose to do a better job with the books on the Red Force, and I could sink into the shadows, build a web of contacts and make myself less obvious. It would be smart to –”

“No.”

He isn’t being rational. And he isn’t being fair. You don’t know how long you can pretend your idea doesn’t sit like a piece of broken glass in your throat, and you have a night of socializing before you can even hope to escape.

“I’m trying to explain I can’t do my job. If Yasopp couldn’t shoot anymore, you’d figure out a different role for him, right? If Roux couldn’t cook. If Beckman couldn’t smoke…”

“Do you want to leave?” His voice is hard, and he’s looking at you so, so seriously.

You can’t help being honest. “No. But it makes sense.”

His restless fingers  tap the hilt of his sword. “No, it doesn’t.”

If he wasn’t so self-possessed, would he have leveled the stable by now? The block? The town?

And why does he care, anyway?

Because he thinks he should. It’s honorable, even it burns you.

“I don’t know what calculations you’re working from, sir, but I’m afraid I have to disagree.” When in doubt, humor works a treat in the world of the Red Hair Pirates. It’s a free pass everyone recognizes. It keeps people sane and keeps drama at a minimum. But Shanks won’t accept your white flag.

“If you can’t do your job like before, fine. But you’re trying to pull away. Why?”

The same reason you left me to fend for myself for a year.

“Because it’s the smart thing to do, and you know it.”

He laughs, but it doesn’t sound friendly. It’s dark, mocking. “Nothing smart about losing a talented crewmate to a case of ennui.”

Your nostrils flare and your spine goes rigid. “Excuse me?”

“If you want to leave, I won’t stop you,” he says. “But first, I want you to tell us both the truth. Just one more time. I’ll even get you liquored up with Beck if you want.”

“Don’t be an ass, Shanks.” You’re on your feet, hissing. He isn’t getting his way, whatever the fuck that is, and he’s lost all pretense of kindness. “I don’t need to humiliate myself twice. And you clearly know what I’m talking about.”

“Eh? Do I? You’re the clever one with your numbers. How about you explain it to me again?”

No. You can’t look him in the eye any longer. You stomp to the window, crossing your arms and scowling at the latest view you’ve hated for being dry, and still, and so much less than the open ocean.

It’s so quiet, you swear you can hear the spiders repairing their webs. Shanks lets it sit, and you know neither of you will leave this loft until he’s finished raking you over the coals for not making the system work the way he wants it to.

Fine. It can’t hurt more than it already does.

“I care about you.” You tell the street. The sun. The tailor shop and restaurant across the avenue. Everyone but Shanks. “Much more than a crewmember should care for their captain, and that always leads to trouble.”

“Care?” He’s crept close, and the question ruffles your hair. “Not the word I remember.”

You tear away from his space, ducking around his left side so he’ll have to work harder to grab you if he insists on being a bully.

“Fuck off. I get it, Shanks.” From a safe distance away, you face him. He wants the truth, so you’ll drown him in it. Let him see your fear and frustration so he’ll understand. “I’m not some starry-eyed civilian you have to entertain so it doesn’t hurt when you leave. I’ve watched the Red Force sail away dozens of times. I’ll live. My plan will work, I just need some den den mushi, and –”

“I’m not trying to leave you.”

You freeze. Hold his gaze. He’s looking at you like the shitty loft doesn’t exist, like he sees the plot of your life differently and is trying to explain the center of a foreign universe.

It’s soft. Nonsensically sad.

With a sigh, he looks at the floor, scoops your trunk under his arm, and heads for the door.

“Even if you don’t need a drink, I want to see how good the sake is around here.”