#off the starboard bow ( and into your arms )

[jintaka-hane]

Two Days

(Beckman x f!Reader)

Masterlist

Img source / source

Summary: You and Beckman have been navigating a long-distance relationship for a while. Now that he's docking at your port, you’ve got two precious days to reunite and reminisce about the day you first met — a dreadful evening when nothing went as planned. Word Count: 5735 Notes: This is my contribution to 'The Great Beckmaning'! It was a looooooot of fun to write, and I'm considering writing about what happened after the tavern brawl, hehe. My gift for the Beckman’s wives army! Warnings: Mild NSFW, father!beckman x mother!reader, established relationship, one sided enemies to lovers, shanks being silly, misunderstanding, longing, kissing, petting, domesticity, fluff, mentions of alcohol, guns, cigarettes, swearing, mention of pregnancy.

"You sure you can manage without me?" a familiar look of concern crossed the first mate's face.

"For the fifth time, Beck, YEEES!" bellowed the pirates of the Red Force in unison.

"I've left some instructions for—"

"Beck! We'll be fine, trust me!” Shanks said, avoiding the note he was handing and pushing him down off the ship.

“But… the hole in the starboard bow needs—”

“AYE!! SHOVE OFF, BECK!”

"A’right, a’right…. behave yourselves..." he looked at the captain, "especially you”.

"Enjoooooy! Don't worry about aaaanything… and give her my regards," Shanks added, clumsily winking.

And the second in command of the Red Force disembarked, unsure of what he would find upon his return.

It was a port he knew like the back of his hand, in a fishing village neither too small nor too large, populated by smiling and friendly folk.

He walked through a bustling square where locals sold their wares—a display of colorful fruits, fresh fish from the morning catch, and an eclectic array of handmaded items. In one corner, a quaint bakery beckoned with the tempting aroma of freshly baked pastries. He entered and bought the ones he thought you would like the most.

With the bag in hand, he continued down the street until he reached a modest yet charming house. He grasped the doorknob and turned it, the familiar creak of the door indicating that it was not locked. With a gentle push, it swung open.

He had warned you countless times about the importance of locking the door and securing your home, yet you never seemed to heed his advice. However, he wouldn't scold you this time. Not when it had been three long months since your last meeting, and he only had two precious days to enjoy your company.

"Y/n?" He called out to you, but there was no response.

His steps carried him first to the kitchen. He placed the bag of pastries he had purchased upon the counter, a surprise awaiting you. As his eyes scanned the room, he noticed that the wooden frame of a window needed repair, and that the pantry door wasn't closing properly. He would attend to that later.

He then made his way to the living room where he found you. Your graceful form was reclined upon the couch, peacefully lost in slumber. The way your hair spilled over the cushions, your chest rising and falling in rhythmic breaths, and the flawless complexion of your face adorned with a faint smile in repose, rendered you truly breathtaking. A pang of longing gripped his chest, proof to the months he had spent yearning for you. But these two days together would surely mend any distance between you. 

Beside you laid a beautiful baby girl, her eyes wide with innocence and curiosity as she gazed up at him with a smile.

"Here you’re, little one. I've missed you," he murmured, scooping her up into his arms and holding her close. With care, he raised her up to meet her gaze, marveling at the sight before him.

“So pretty... must have inherited your mother's genes, otherwise I wouldn't believe it with a father like me...".

The baby giggled at him, reaching out to touch the x-shaped scar on his face, but then her expression grew serious, her cheeks flushing red. Beckman chuckled as he noticed a peculiar odor beginning to permeate the room.

"Ok, ok, let's change ya," he planted a gentle kiss on her forehead.

He carried her to the bedroom, where he knew all the diapers and baby wipes were kept. With utmost care, he cradled the baby in one arm while using the other to retrieve the baby changer from your dressing table. Placing the baby, who giggled once more, in the changer, he gently removed her clothes and diaper. With ease, he cleaned her with a wipe, dried her tenderly with a soft towel, applied cream, and secured a clean diaper in place.

It was a curious sight to behold Benn Beckham, a rugged pirate of the seas known for his strength and fierceness, handling and caring for a delicate baby with such tenderness.

Once the baby was dressed, they made their way to the kitchen, disposed of the soiled diaper, and returned to the living room. Beckman settled into a rocking chair beside the couch, cradling the baby close. He hummed a sea shanty as a lullaby in his deep voice, stealing glances at you from time to time, careful not to disturb your slumber. 

Farewell to the harbor, To my old hometown

Lets all sing out with a Don! As the ship sets sail

Waves of gold and silver dissolve to salty spray

As we all set sail to the ends of the sea…

Gradually, the baby's eyelids drooped until her eyes closed entirely. A smile graced Beckman's lips as he watched her drift off to sleep.

"Sleep tight, princess," he whispered tenderly.

Then, sinking back into the chair, he studied you thoughtfully. How was it that you had never left him all these years? You were a stunning, independent, and strong woman, and he couldn't help but wonder why you had remained by his side. In a town filled with men eager to win your affection, you had never once betrayed him or hinted at parting ways. Perhaps, he mused, this was love after all... And the fact that he returned to you every time he had the opportunity was his way to show you that he loved you back. And he always will.

As he admired your poised figure, memories of the day you had first crossed paths flooded his mind. What a chaotic mess it had been...

*** *** ***

It was shaping up to be a real wretched day. Shanks, in his usual state of inebriation, exhibited an unusual level of clumsiness, leaving him feeling like a caretaker tending to an unruly child. Whenever the captain sank into such a state, the crew inevitably followed suit, burdening him with additional duties both aboard and ashore. Having remained docked in the same port for a week, their departure was scheduled for the morrow, yet Shanks, in his folly, proposed a return to the tavern they had frequented the day before. Once more. The man seemed insatiable in his thirst for drink, oblivious to his prior excesses. With a sigh, Beckman acquiesced, resigned to another evening spent in the tavern...

The evening unfolded in customary fashion at the bar, with men swaying clumsily to the music and belting out off-key tunes. The crash of shattered glass echoed through the room as drinks slipped from careless hands, earning disapproving glances from the tavern's owner. Finding solace in a secluded corner, he ordered a pint of ale, lit a cigarette, and scanned the room in search of distraction.

Idiots, the lot of them, he mused.

His gaze wandered until it suddenly fixated on something that caught his attention. Across from him, nestled in a quiet corner, sat an intriguing woman, effortlessly beautiful and serene amidst the chaos. Engrossed in a book, she sipped at her drink, while a bag of pastries from a nearby bakery lay at her feet.

Must be one hell of a book to keep her absorbed in a joint like this.

He chuckled softly, entertained by the improbable sight of such a striking lady amidst the tavern's humble surroundings. She seemed to be alone. Could she perhaps provide him with some stimulating company for the evening? Surely, she would be the most engaging conversationalist in the room. It was worth a try.

However, before making any advances, a habitual reflex led him to gauge his captain's interest in her. His eyes swept the room until they settled on Shanks, who was engrossed in merriment with Roux and the others, urging him on with raucous cheers of 'Drink! Drink! Drink!' 

Well, he thought, it seems she is mine for the takin’.

With a nod to the barman, he summoned him over.

“Boy, fetch that lady another round of whatever she's havin’. Put it on my tab,”' he instructed. The boy acknowledged the order and set off to fulfill it.

He observed from afar the woman's reaction when she received her pint of stout, the way her eyebrows arched in surprise. She glanced toward him as the barman gestured in his direction. Meeting her gaze, he raised his glass in greeting, only to receive a disdainful snort in return before she returned her attention to her book.

Darn. Not the smoothest start...

He felt a mixture of irritation and intrigue, but he was reluctant to come across as the sort of man who embarrasses himself by persisting in front of a woman's indifference. So he made an effort to brush it off, attempting to ignore her and the way she had rejected him with such disinterest.

As he tried to shift his focus, his mind wandered to the tasks awaiting him before the next day's departure. He made mental notes to check the main mast, which had been damaged in an attack, and ensure that the cargo was securely arranged, wary of any imbalance that could jeopardize the ship's stability.

He hadn't been listing his tasks for even five minutes when he noticed that Shanks had also become aware of the presence of the woman and was approaching her, stumbling toward her table with an oversized grin. With a gesture he likely deemed elegant, he extended his hand.

"Evenin’, sweetheart. I've come to rescue you from the clutches of boredom that book must be inflicting upon you. Care to dance?"

"Get lost," she shot back without even sparing him a glance.

Beckman chuckled.

The red pirates howled.

Shanks placed a hand over his heart, feigning heartbreak, then turned to the crew and erupted into laughter with the others.

“Bad luck, cap’n!!” one man shouted. 

Turning back to her, Shanks remarked, "Well, I'll take that as a no, then. What are you drinking? Want another?"

"No, thank you" she replied firmly, and to further encourage him to depart, she added, "I've already been offered a beer by another man," smiling proudly at her own response.

"Oh? Is that so? I must be late then... And who might this gentleman be, sweetheart? I'm curious," he pressed.

With an air of indifference, she slowly pointed in his direction, causing him visible discomfort.

Shit. 

Shanks and the entire crew turned their attention to him. Shanks's eyes widened, and after several moments of silence, the room erupted in laughter once more.

Despite knowing Shanks well enough to understand that his actions were not intended to ridicule him, he couldn't help but feel exposed and irked by the situation. 

"Well, let's all raise a glass to our first mate!" Shanks declared, breaking the tension. "MAY HE BE LUCKY!".

"HEAR, HEAR!" echoed throughout the room as everyone raised their glasses, some of them whistling.

The captain turned once more to the woman, leaning in to whisper something in her ear. Then, with a broad grin, he directed his attention back to Beckman, raising his fist with his thumb pointed upward and offering a clumsy wink. And with that, he rejoined the men, who erupted into cheers.

Beckman pinched the bridge of his nose. As a man who valued the discretion of his affairs, he couldn't shake off the sense of shame engulfing him.

Perhaps he should go and offer an apology on behalf of his captain, then simply leave her be. That would be a good idea... so he did just that, approaching her table and pulling up a chair to sit beside her.

Drawing nearer, he couldn't resist stealing a better look at her. Her lips and delicate complexion caught his attention. His gaze inevitably wandered to her curves, wondering what it would be like to lose himself between those thighs. His thoughts took an improper turn, thoughts that he knew would trouble his sleep that night. Shaking off them, he reminded himself of his purpose: a simple apology. But before he could utter a word, she spoke nonchalantly.

"You never give up, do you?"

A tough one. Attractive and pretending to be out of reach, a good combination.

He left the chair on the floor and kept a calm smile.

"Doll, I just wanted to apologize for-"

"Doll?" She raised her eyes, interrupting him. "Fuck off, you drunkard. I hate pirates, you are all scum".

His smile faltered as her words caught him off guard.

"For someone who despises pirates, you speak like one, woman," he said, and glancing at the four empty glasses on the table he added. "And drink like one too..."

She shot him a lethal glare, and he raised his hands in surrender. "A’right, a’right, I'll leave you be."

Disappointed, he made his way back to his table. He was taking his seat when he spotted a group of men entering the tavern, armed and wearing expressions of menace. Their faces twisted into grimaces that spoke of hostility and a readiness for conflict and it appeared that they outnumbered their own group.

Not good.

They advanced through the crowd, shoving people roughly, taunting them, snatching their glasses and draining them defiantly in front of their angry stares. Tension hung thick in the air... and it reached a breaking point when one of them seized a chair, hoisted it into the air, and without giving anyone a chance to react, brought it crashing down onto Yassop's back. He cried out in pain and cursed.

"What's wrong with ya, ya scurvy dog?!"

Fuck.

The atmosphere grew heavier with tension, fists tightening, jaws clenching, and guns aimed at one another. Beckman instinctively reached for his rifle, drawing it from his sash. 

"Beck? You still with us?" Shanks called him out, staying calm.

"Right 'ere".

“Please, no slaughter!" shouted the tavern owner.

Briefly, Beckman’s thoughts drifted to the lady, now frightened and huddled against the wall with her eyes fixed on the distant exit door, unattainable and out of reach. She was trapped. With long strides, he placed himself between the crowd and her, a protective barrier.

"Stay behind me”.

Damn, if she wasn't even willing to talk to him before, she surely would never want to see him again after what she was going to witness.

As one of the pirates moved toward him with a knife in one hand and a broken bottle in the other, intent on attacking, Beckman plucked the cigarette from his mouth with two fingers and flicked it toward one of his eyes. The ashes danced through the air with a spark before landing on their target. 

“Don’t get cocky”.

And then chaos erupted.

*** *** ***

Back to the present, his mind wandered back to the same question that haunted him every time he saw you. What if he quitted everything and chose to stay with you? Didn't he deserve some happiness? He liked his life at sea but missed you terribly. And the baby, she surely needed him; as her father, it was his duty to raise her. But would you want that too? After all, you chose your path, and he, his…

Did you even need him? Perhaps not... he knew you managed perfectly well on your own. However, the red-haired one did need him and maybe that was the main reason he wouldn't bring himself to stay. No, for now, he couldn't stay, and both of you knew that, despite the yearning you held for each other.

Maybe one day... in the future... he could sort things out, he could even ask you to be officially his wife -would you accept?-, and build a home for your family, far from the dangers that came with a price on your head.

He rose from his seat and carefully placed the baby in a cradle that had been placed in the living room. Then, he made his way to the furthest window of the room, opened it to prevent bothering the baby with smoke, and retrieved a match and a cigarette. With practiced ease, he lit it and took a drag, inhaling deeply as he stared out of the window.

You opened your eyes, taking a few seconds to focus your gaze until you saw him. His unexpected presence caught you off guard.

A smile spread across your lips as you admired the sight: his broad shoulders outlined against the light, the curve of his neck, the way his now slightly gray hair was tied back in a ponytail... Throughout the years, he had continued to dress simply, wearing a black shirt and a yellow sash in which he usually kept a weapon. A tough and threatening appearance concealing a kind heart and a good man.

Relishing in the moment, you continued to observe him as memories of the day you first met flooded back. What a disaster it had been.

*** *** ***

You were enduring a dreadful day. 

You had poured an entire year working very hard to open a bookstore, spending all your savings and efforts on finding a location, negotiating prices with suppliers, and advertising to make yourself known in the town. It was months of hard work and effort and it had only been a week since you opened. While business could have been better, you were not doing badly.

But that morning all your dreams were dashed, a group of pirates stormed into the town and set fire to several shops just for fun. From your bookstore, you could only save one copy, the one you happened to have in your bag at that moment. 

You HATED pirates.

Seeking solace, you went to the tavern to have a drink and give your brain a break. You were overthinking too much about your future and were exhausted and moody. You wanted to be alone, so you didn't doll up—no makeup, no provocative dress, nothing—to keep idiots away from you.

As you sat there, already on your third pint of black beer, a group of pirates swaggered into the tavern.

That's all I needed... A bunch of brutes... And they're already drunk? Not surprised. 

You considered leaving the tavern, but no, you weren't going to be driven out by a bunch of thugs. You just wanted to relax a bit, and those drunkards didn't seem like a real threat. You thought that if you pretended to read the book you managed to save from the fire, no one would try to approach you, so you seized it and set it on the table.

Until now, with the rush, you hadn't had a chance to inspect it. Flipping it over, you were met with a cover depicting a suggestive scene—a blonde-haired woman in a purple dress, her knee on the lap of a sun-bronzed, bare-chested man, unmistakably a pirate, while lavender-hued letters announced:

'How to Seduce Pirates, Part 2 (Take Him to Bed)"

A flush crept up your cheeks.

Seriously? Out of an arsenal of nearly 3000 books, I could only save this one? 

Surely, it wasn't the kind of book you'd want to find yourself reading in a setting like this… but there was no other choice.

The atmosphere crackled chaotic, a symphony of raucous voices and clinking glasses filling the air. Men, their movements awkward and uncoordinated, swayed to the music, their off-key singing punctuated by the sharp sound of breaking glass. 'Drink! Drink! Drink!' they chanted, their voices rising above the chaos.

Amidst the tumult, maintaining the pretense of reading became an arduous task. You sighed deeply, the book in your hands a shield against the uproar. Not even five minutes had passed when the barman addressed you.

"Here you have, ma'am," you glanced up at the boy, noticing him set a beer on your table and gesture towards the man who had ordered it: a pirate, of course. A tall one, with black hair tied back in a ponytail. He smiled kindly at you, lifting his drink.

You really weren't in the mood.

What an arrogant prick, how dare he disturb me like that? I'm not even going to thank him...

You snorted and redirected your attention back to the book. But glancing at the pages, your mind tricked you and started conjuring up images of the man.

Alright, he's attractive, I'll give him that. With that black t-shirt barely covering his chest. 

That chest...

Maybe I'm being stubborn and could just talk with him... that might help me forget my problems... even if just for the night… I could rip off his sash in one pull and see what's underneath...

NO. 

He's a pirate. 

Absolutely not. No way. Never.

You were lost in your thoughts when a red-haired man with a big smile stumbled over to your table. With a clumsy movement, he extended his hand and addressed you.

"Evenin’, sweetheart. I've come to rescue you from the clutches of boredom that book must be inflicting upon you. Care to dance?"

How? And why? Can't they leave me alone? 

"Get lost" was the best reply you could muster. 

The man put on a little show to make his friends laugh.

“Bad luck, cap’n!!” one man shouted. 

Turning back to you, he remarked, "Well, I'll take that as a no, then. What are you drinking? Want another?".

"No, thank you" you replied firmly, and to further encourage him to depart, you added, "I've already been offered a beer by another man".

"Oh? Is that so? I must be late then... And who might this gentleman be, sweetheart? I'm curious," he pressed. 

Oh, that black-haired man was going to regret bothering you. With an air of indifference, you slowly pointed in his direction and watched as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The lines of expression beneath his eyes grew deeper and against your will, you thought he was really cute like that. 

The red-haired man and the entire crew turned their attention to the uncomfortable man and after several moments of silence, the room erupted in laughter once more.

"Well, let's all raise a glass to our first mate!" 

Ah, the first mate.

"MAY HE BE LUCKY!"

He won't be, not with me, anyway. 

"HEAR, HEAR!" echoed throughout the room as everyone raised their glasses whistling.

"He is a good man, sweetheart, don't be scared of him," the man whispered in your ear before leaving with his friends, who greeted him. You were a bit shocked and didn't know why, but you sensed that that drunkard meant no harm.

Well, you sighed, not like I am changing my mind. Having already chased away two of them, I'm sure I can continue drinking in solitude. 

But you were mistaken, because two minutes later you felt a presence scanning your body.

The first mate. 

With a chair in his hand and a cigarette in his mouth, a strand of hair falling over his face.

Oh, for god’s sake…

"You never give up, do you?" you threw at him without taking your eyes off the book. For a moment, you felt him hesitate.

"Doll, I just wanted to apologize for-" 

"Doll?" You thought he was mocking you and you exploded, a surge of hatred resurfacing in you. You had tried today to go unnoticed and failed miserably. The memory of your ravaged bookstore brought tears to your eyes, yet you fought to restrain them. And moreover, you felt guilty for being drawn to this man. All you wanted was to distance yourself from him and continue drinking alone.

You did direct your gaze upward, very much upward, honestly, how tall is he? to look at him.

"Fuck off, you drunkard. I hate pirates, you are all scum".

You flinched at your own words and regretted them immediately. Too harsh, even if you wouldn't take them back now.

"For someone who despises pirates, you speak like one, woman" he said, glancing at the four empty glasses on the table he added. "And drink like one too...".

Fair point.

You gave him a deadly look and he raised his hands, defeated. "A’right, a’right, I'll leave you be”.

He turned away and walked off from you, while you stood there wondering if you had been too harsh. Your thoughts were interrupted as you spotted a group of men entering the tavern.

Great, more pirates, you thought, all the same crew, you supposed.

They were armed and wore expressions of menace, appearing unfriendly and eager for conflict. 

They advanced through the crowd, shoving people roughly, taunting them, snatching their glasses and draining them defiantly in front of their angry stares. Tension hung thick in the air... definitely they were not the same crew.

In a moment of escalation, one of them seized a chair, lifting it high into the air. Without a moment for anyone to intervene, it came crashing down onto the back of another man. His cry of pain mingled with curses as he writhed in agony.

"What's wrong with ya, ya scurvy dog?!"

The tension in the air thickened, fists clenched, jaws tightened, and guns leveled at each other. 

You stood up, visibly worried about your safety. Your eyes flickered to the exit door, tucked away in the opposite corner of the room and blocked by the crowd of pirates. It was going to be impossible for you to escape from that place. Where could you possibly go, or hide? 

"Beck? You still with us?"

Beck.

"Right ’ere," he answered.

“Please, no slaughter!”

In that moment, you caught sight of the first mate, holding a rifle in one hand and a cigarette still dangling from his mouth, moving toward you as though he intended to shield you.

"Stay behind me," he said over his shoulder.

Damn, minutes before, you didn't even want to talk to him, and now you just wanted to see him again.

As a pirate moved toward you, intent on attacking, the man protecting you plucked the cigarette from his mouth with two fingers and flicked it toward one of the pirates' eyes. The ashes danced through the air with a spark before landing on their target. 

“Don’t get cocky”.

And then, the hell started.

*** *** ***

Alright, enough with the nostalgia, you thought, bringing your focus back to the present moment.

Restraining your urge to run towards him and jump into his arms, you pondered over what would be the most fitting greeting for him.

"Benn Beckman, you have balls to smoke near the baby in front of me," you decided to say to him, your arms crossed.

He turned towards you immediately, initially taken aback by your confrontational tone, but relaxed when he saw your face. Leaning his elbows on the windowsill, his eyes locked onto yours as he raised the cigarette to his lips and took a defiant puff.

"Well then, c’mere and try to take it from me".

You stood and approached him, attempting to maintain a serious expression. Raising your right hand, you tried to pluck it from his lips, but he was quicker, lifting it with his hand out of your reach. You huffed in frustration, grabbing his shirt and pushing him down pretending to go kiss him. He smelled like a mixture of tobacco, salt, seawater, and damp wood. As he leaned down to kiss you, you seized the opportunity to snatch the cigarette from his fingers just as your lips were about to meet.

With your prize secured, you dashed away down the hallway chuckling at his puzzled expression. He pursued you immediately, his steps echoing in the hallway as he closed the distance. Before you realize, strong arms enveloped you, lifting you by the hips effortlessly.

“Gotcha”.

Turning you gracefully in mid-air, he spun you around to face him. You giggled as you encircled his waist with your legs and clasped onto his shoulders, steadying yourself.

“I think you have something that belongs to me,” he said with a raspy voice.

You raised your hand, the cigarette poised between your fingers, teasingly moistening your lips with the tip of your tongue. 

“Do you mean this?” 

With deliberate allure, you took a drag before exhaling the smoke slowly, your eyes locked onto his.

“No, this,” with a hunger born of desire, he pulled you into a deep, passionate kiss.

You released the cigarette from your grasp, allowing it to fall to the floor. Without hesitation, he swiftly brought his foot down upon it, extinguishing the ember with a resolute stomp.

He swept you into the kitchen, his lips still crashing into yours, before carefully seating you on the cool surface of the dining table. With your eyes shut, you remained oblivious to where you were until the chill of the table beneath your thighs prompted you to open them and take in your surroundings. You barely had a second to look around before you felt Beckman’s fingers touch your chin, drawing your mouth back to his again.

You tilted your head, deepening the kiss, and heard him growl softly. You smiled at this, your hands tracing the contours of his back until they grazed the yellow fabric cinched around his waist.

All the while he devoured your lips, you began untying the sash, a task that with practice, you had learned to do quickly. The moment it came undone, it slipped from his waist and dropped to the floor. Then, pressing your hand against his chest, you broke the kiss, your lips parting to catch your breath.

"How much time?,” you asked.

"Two days”.

"Okay," you replied without complaint or further inquiry. Both of you knew that arguing about it would only cause pain and frustration, as there was nothing that could be done. 

Slipping his hands beneath your shirt, he began to caress the skin of your stomach, his fingertips sending shivers down your spine. "Enough time to put another child in this beautiful belly”.

You huffed and tried in vain to shove him off. “Don't you dare, Benn Beckman”. He chuckled and started kissing your jaw, leaving a trail of kisses on your neck, and you thought you heard him mumble we’ll see against your skin.

He pushed your legs slowly, spreading them to make room for your bodies to embrace. When they reached the limit, his hands moved to your small back and he pulled you firmly towards him. You gasped at the resolute movement.

“C’mere”.

A stray lock of hair escaping from his ponytail tickled your face, and with the tip of your fingers, you attempted to tuck it behind his ear, only for it to promptly slip out again.

"Where is the boy?" He asked between kisses, unable to separate his lips from yours or his hands from your back.

"Out. Playing with some friends," you managed to say.

"Mmh,” he adjusted his position to center his body with yours, his legs firm against the dining table. “One day I must teach him to fire a gun,” he mumbled.

"He is… only four… years old, Beck”

“Mmmh,” he murmured absentmindedly, his attention focused on the task of urging your body to recline upon the table's surface. You surrendered to his gentle push, letting him guide you until you were lying on your back, utterly exposed to him. 

He took a moment to observe you, his gaze lingering on your swollen lips and your chest panting beneath him. You were a sight to behold.

“Fuck, look at you... you’re beautiful…”

His fingers lifted the edge of your skirt and tenderly traced the curve of your thigh, from knee to hip. A warmth began to spread wildly through your lower body as he kissed your neckline, unbuttoning your shirt impatiently at the same time. You raised your legs, wrapping them around his waist with a firmness that conveyed your desire to pull him closer, molding his body against yours in an embrace of longing and urgency.

“Beautiful and all mine…”

Your back arched instinctively, a silent expression of anticipation coursing through your body. He used this movement to slide his hands under your back, lifting and drawing your body even closer against his.

“Bed? Beck…” 

“No time,” he managed to say.

He devoured you hungrily, his hands looking for the buckle of his belt in a desperate attempt to free himself. Your breaths quickened in unison, your bodies attempting to meld together…

"HI MOM! I’M AT HOME!"

His movements halted abruptly at the sound of a joyful four-year-old entering the house.

Fuck

With a swift motion, you disentangled yourself from his embrace, hurriedly smoothing down your disheveled clothes and tousled hair.

“I’ll take care of you later," he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. A promise he’d better fulfill.

--------------

You had sex all night. 

It was an intense session in which your bodies sought each other, embracing and clutching in a dance that lasted until dusk, aiming to reclaim all the pleasure you had yearned for those last months.

Striving to keep both of you hushed, for fear of waking up the kids, he did his best to swallow your moans and stifle his own grunts against your neck, relieving tension in silence.

He whispered praises ranged from the utmost devotion to the dirtiest and most obscene terms, and performed the sweetest and most affectionate caresses intertwined with the most brutal and energetic thrusts.

Every time you reached a peak, with hearts fluttering in unison in your chests, a simple glance, word, or touch reignited a flame that took you all night to quench.

In the soft morning glow, as the sun ascended, you lay in bed, your body exhausted and sore. Your head nestled against his chest, feeling the comforting warmth radiating from his body. He stared at the ceiling, clearly lost in thought, something heavy weighing on his mind.

"Darlin’," he broke the silence. 

"Mmh?"

You lifted your head to look him in the eyes, quietly awaiting his words.

For a moment that seemed like an eternity, he hesitated.

"... you know I'd never smoke right next to the baby, right?"

So, that's what it was.

You couldn't help but smile.

Finding comfort in the moment, you nestled your face against his chest once more, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek.

"I know, Beck," you murmured softly, your fingertips gently caressing his scarred temple. "I love you."

-------------

Taglist: @i-am-vita @fanaticsnail @gingernut1314 @lourvedreams @atinymonbebestay @ici-spicy @firefistussy

[winged-self-indulgence]

The person who put Siren!Z in my head, you know who you are. Why would you do this to me?

You’ve never not known Z.

The thought spins through your mind, as idle and as careless as the salt-laden breeze that carries your little rowboat on the water’s surface. The ocean is calm tonight, an expanse of obsidian dotted with silver pinpricks that match the equally dark sky above. It’s late, and you should have been home by now. Should have taken hold of the thick twine that acts as the only thing preventing you from drifting further into the horizon, and pulled the wooden boat back to the lights and safety of the shoreline.

You didn’t though, and you won’t, because the creature on your mind is far more interesting.

He watches you from the other end of your boat, tanned arms folded loosely atop the bow and acting as a comfortable perch for a sharp chin. All of Z is sharp, from the tips of his frilled ears to the steel-trap mouthful of teeth that stretches wider when the siren catches you staring back. You can barely see his eyes beneath the tangle of waterlogged hair, but you’re certain that his gaze is similarly edged.

“Enjoying the view, Dove?” The question makes you blink, pulling you from your thoughts. Z smirks at you, jet-black scales catching the moonlight and illuminating the scarlet hues that tint their extremities. “Why don’t you come a little closer and get a better look, huh?”

You scoff and lean forward so you can make proper eye contact with him. “Nice try, Z,” you reply. “I thought sirens were supposed to lure humans to their deaths with beauty and song. Not harass innocent people trying to relax.”

“Aw, if you wanted me to sing to you then all you had to do was ask,” he coos teasingly. You’ve only heard Z sing in passing, and only under his breath. Scarcely more than a hum, the sound dances across the still water, smooth and melodious as it ripples through the darkness. It feels as though you and Z are the only beings out here, which is impossible. You know it’s not true, but somehow you can’t bring yourself to turn your head the scant 90 degrees it would take to spot the distant lights of the city at your back.

“Ah-ah! I’m not falling for that,” you point at Z, narrowing your eyes further when he meets your suspicious squint with an innocent pout. “Even if you weren’t a mythical creature known for killing and eating humans, I wouldn’t get into the water with you. You’d probably dunk me or something.”

The siren gasps and rears back, placing a webbed hand on his chest in an affectation of utter horror. “Perish the thought! You wound me, sweetheart,” he releases his grip on the gunwale, and you lean over to watch the long shape of him as it dives silently beneath the surface. You’ve never met another siren before, so you have no idea how large they are on average, but Z is huge by your own estimate. What he looks like below the waist is a mystery to you, but you suspect it’s something octopoid in nature judging by the shapes that twist and coil greedily out of the corner of your eyes.

Perhaps the rope isn’t the only reason you haven’t drifted off.  

Z reappears again, this time starboard and startlingly close to your face. You yelp and flinch backwards, almost toppling in entirely under his amused gaze. He watches you as if you’re a particularly fascinating seashell lying on the beach. The wind picks up for just an instant and you catch a glimpse of serpentine slits against a backdrop of crimson and gold.

“Are you sure?” He asks, and his voice a low cajoling rumble that wraps around you like dense silk. “The water's perfect you know, and I promise I'll keep you nice and safe. Besides, it’s not every day you get an invitation to swim with someone as charming as me.”

“Charming? Last week you tried to poison me!”

“On accident!” Z raised his hands in appeasement. “It was an accident! How was I supposed to know pufferfish was toxic to humans? You told me you considered them a delicacy!”

“I–!” You opened your mouth to refute him, and then closed it again. He had a point. You hadn’t clarified further because it had seemed obvious that anything so poisonous had to be carefully prepared to render it not poisonous. The entire fish had to be carefully killed, skinned, fileted, and cooked to remove the tetrodotoxin and other dangerous microbes. Not tossed into your lap still leaping and squeaking like an angry chew toy when you lazily mentioned that you were kind of hungry.

“And I already apologized,” the siren tilts his head, and you once again become hyperaware of the necklace around your throat. It’s almost a collar given how little chain there is, and from the center hangs a perfectly cut garnet. The kind of wealth that would be right at home in some imaginary pirate hoard. Curiosity rises in your chest as your fingers trace the edge of the gem, and Z must pick up on that. “Come on, sweetheart. You’ll never know what you’re missing until you dive in. I can show you things no human has ever seen. Hidden caves, sunken treasures, the most beautiful coral gardens…"

You hesitate, wavering between wariness and sheer curiosity. A single swim wouldn’t hurt, would it? You’ve known Z for…however long you’ve known him. If he wanted to do something to you, surely, he would have already done it, right? Even now, the only thing keeping you from the water is a rickety old rowboat missing one of its oars. Just a quick dip, and then back to shore. That’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.

Z’s returning cackle is enough to have you rethinking your agreement, but the siren refuses to let you backtrack or renege. “Aw, don’t get all shy on me now, Dove,” he teases, latching a hand around your wrist while the other cups your cheek, soaking your skin and clothes. You can taste salt at the back of your throat when he tugs you closer. “That’s it honey, just trust me.”

Then you’re in the water, and it’s nothing but bubbles and black and ice burning in your lungs. For a moment you’re not sure which way is up. You flail around, terror pushing a flurry of bubbles from your lips as you struggle to find Z or anything to hold on to. Where is he, where did he go, did he leave you to die?

You gasp out what you believe will be your final breath, only to suck in a lungful of cool air. A bubble surrounds you, paper-thin and yet impenetrable when you press your palms against the glasslike surface. High, high above you can see the underside of your boat bobbing far away, now barely bigger than your fingernail.

What…what the hell…?

Finally.

The voice – it must be a voice, though you swear you didn’t truly hear it inasmuch as you simply perceived it – fills your mind. Avarice and adoration drip from every syllable. Glee wraps around every letter. A familiar cackle skitters up the back of your neck. Your bubble moves, buoyed by something dark and shimmering and tinted red that spins you around until you come face to face with the creature you thought you knew.

You have never met another siren before, so you have no idea how large they are on average, but Z is titanic. Eyes like fire remain fixed on where you kneel, doll-like and helpless in the palm of his hand. A body that stretches far into the abyss, where even the sunlight wouldn’t dare to venture. Jaws that part for a tongue longer than you are tall, tracing across teeth bigger than your torso.

Don’t worry, my little human. I said I’d take good care of you.

[scary-grace]

what is 1994 estonia? (Gen, interested)

You've activated my trap card, I'm afraid. '1994 Estonia' refers to the September 28th, 1994 sinking of the passenger ferry MV Estonia in the Baltic Sea. Out of the 989 people on board, 852 died, and 137 survived.

As previously stated, my offputting special interest is disasters, and I've probably done more research on this specific disaster than any of my other "favorites". To me there are a couple of things that are particularly horrifying about this sinking, and to explain I'm going to do a little compare and contrast between the Estonia and a much more famous wreck - the RMS Titanic.

Details under the cut. If you don't want to read a detailed description of why this sinking was so awful, please don't click.

The first piece of the horror to me is the fatality rate. When Titanic sank, around 68% of the people on board were killed, and women and children had a reasonably high survival rate. This is undeniably horrific. On the Estonia, however, the fatality rate was closer to 86%, and very few women, children, or elderly people survived. There are a couple of reasons for this, which I'll go into a few bullet points down. They include:

The cause of the sinking. Titanic got in a fight with an iceberg and lost, resulting in a series of ruptures along the hull line and progressive -- but predictable -- flooding. Estonia, on the other hand, was what's known as a roll-on, roll-off ferry, meaning that the bow of the ship is able to lift up in order to allow cars and trucks to drive on at one port and drive off at their destination. During a storm the night of September 28th, 1994, the bow of the ship took such a beating from the waves that it came loose and fell completely off. This caused catastrophic and unpredictable flooding in the ship's hold.

The list. If you've seen the movie, you know that while the bow of Titanic eventually lifted out of the water, it didn't develop much of a list -- a tilt to one side or the other. When Estonia's hold flooded, it took on a significant list to starboard (tilted sharply to the right). Imagine you're staying at a hotel, hanging out in your room. Then, without warning, your room tilts sideways. Now the floor of your room is at a 30-degree angle. Objects in your room have fallen over, or fallen onto you. You're disoriented and possibly injured, but you decide that it's time to get out of your room, and out of the hotel, as quickly as possible. But with every passing second, the tilt of the floor beneath you continues to increase. Think about how quickly your environment would become difficult or impossible to navigate. Now imagine that while this is happening, you're surrounded by 988 people who are also trying to escape. How fast do you think you'd be able to get out? On the Estonia, escape to the outer decks was only possible for the first 5-10 minutes of the sinking. Anyone who was inside the ship past that point went down with it.

The conditions inside. Making it out to the deck of the Estonia required quick reaction time, even quicker movement, and a lot of arm strength. When the ship listed, it rendered the staircases impossible to use normally, and people who survived had to pull themselves up along the rails. Most people couldn't. Survivors reported panic among the passengers, as well as seeing people who were injured and in need of help, but being unable to help without losing their own lives. To me, the one of the most haunting stories from this aspect of the sinking is one of a man who was helping his girlfriend and parents to escape. When they realized they couldn't pull themselves up the stairs, they ordered him to save himself -- and he did.

The conditions outside. While Titanic sank on a relatively calm night, Estonia sank in the middle of a storm, which meant the weather conditions were a threat to the people who were able to escape the interior of the ship. The list made it impossible to launch most of the lifeboats, and while there were life rafts, some of them didn't inflate properly. Many people ended up in the water with nothing but a life-jacket, and some survivors went without. It took several hours for help to arrive, and in that time, many people drowned or succumbed to their injuries.

The time. It took Titanic almost two hours to sink -- time for people to escape, time for the band to play, time for those who couldn't escape to accept their fates in whatever way was possible for them. The Estonia sank in 35 minutes.

To sum it up, while more people died in the Titanic sinking, a passenger or crewmember on the Estonia had a much lower chance of survival, due to the nature of the sinking and the speed at which it occurred.

Part of what draws me to this particular disaster is that it combines so many of my greatest fears. Drowning, being trapped in a small space (such as a cabin), not having enough time to escape but having more than enough time to know I was going to die. Something else is the sheer number of obstacles survivors had to overcome in order to escape, and just how many chances there were for things to go wrong. And then there's the question -- if you're with a loved one, and only one of you has the ability to escape, do you stay or go? The Estonia sinking is my worst nightmare, and I come back to it over and over again, hoping I can learn something that will make it less senseless, less bleak, less flatly and inescapably horrific. I haven't found it yet.

Thank you for the ask. If you've read this far, I very much apologize for ruining your afternoon.

Sources:

Final report on the MV Estonia Disaster of September 28 1994

A Sea Story

[deepdisireslonging]

Nautical November Part 2: Opening Introductions

The Winchester brothers show the Reader around the ship. Then they take her back to their cabin so she can pay for the tour.

Pairing: Captain!Dean x Reader x First Mate!Sam

Warnings/Promises: probably incorrect descriptions of a pirate ship, degradation (calling the reader a whore), SMUT, P-in-v, voyeurism (Dean mostly just watches), bukkake

Word Count: 2900

Note: Dean mostly watches in this chapter. But don’t worry, he get’s his in the next part. Let me know how you guys are enjoying things so far with reblogs and comments <3 Happy reading!

Part 1: Cannons in the Night

Fore to aft, port to starboard, the Gazelle was a beautiful ship. It wasn’t as big as a merchant ship, nor as small as the fishing riggers that ran along the coasts. Captain Winchester’s ship was small enough to be quick through the waves. And large enough that she could carry the weight of crew, loot, and a few cannons. Apparently, the smaller the ship, the less she could carry to start and end a fight. As the Gazelle’s crew ransacked up and down the entire colonial coast, the slightly larger size was also better for the travel.

Captain Winchester knew every curve and splinter of his ship. Occasionally on their tour of the vessel, first mate Sam would roll his eyes. But he duly took note of places his brother told him needed upkeep. Once or twice, he ordered a crewmate to see to it immediately.

The crew moved across the deck like a dance. The way they kept their step during soft or harder waves mirrored a waltz. You had learned the steps a bit while on your passenger ship, but it didn’t sail like the Gazelle. Sam or Dean kept a constant grip in your hand or on your arm to keep you steady. Despite the pitch, your favorite place aboard so far was the bow. The front part of the ship was where you could watch the ocean come to you. You could have sworn that’s where the smell of salt was the strongest. And it was definitely the place where the breeze was the most insistent. It tugged at your hair and every inch of your dress as you held out your arms to embrace it. A stronger breeze made it under your shift, nearly exposing you to the waves, much to the brother’s amusement.

Each brother also had a favorite place. Sam’s was the crow’s nest on the mainmast, or center mast. From there, he could watch for potential victims or potential problems. At night, he said, there wasn’t a single rope or sail in the way between him and the stars. Dean’s favorite was kind of obvious, but no less impressive. The large ship’s wheel was of dark wood, standing out from the sun-bleached wood of the poop deck. The knobs were banded with copper at their bases. And the center of the wheel was inset with a doubloon. The Winchester’s first.

“Would you like to steer for a while?” Dean lovingly let his hands wander over the wood. Then he took hold of your fingers. He almost had them against the wheel when you pulled back.

Softly, you shook your head. Not that he couldn’t easily correct it, but you were terrified you’d do something wrong and send the ship way off-course.

Sam chuckled. “Wise decision. Anybody who steers the Gazelle falls in love with her and never leaves. And you’re trying to eventually get off this ship.”

“Worth a shot.” The Captain shrugged.

“You did well. You’re only the second person to turn down the offer. One of two to escape.” Sam snagged your wrist so he could hold you close and whisper in your ear, “though you haven’t escaped yet.” He swayed in time to the waves with you in his arms. “How is Castiel these days? Do you think Captain Novak will be in Savannah when we get there?”

Dean lightly adjusted the wheel. “He’ll be there. One day I’ll ask him again about joining our crew. He won’t get away then.” He pointed at you. “While we’re on the subject: when we get to Savannah, I’ve going to shore to see this captain. While I’m gone, Sam’ll be in charge. He’ll be the captain while I’m gone. Understood?”

“Aye, Sir.” Your quick reply caused a ripple of soft laughter over the deck. But Sam’s grip tightened around your waist. And the crewmembers averted their gaze. It wasn’t the first time you’d noticed. A few times, during their greeting, one crewmate or another had drifted close to you. At first, you thought the sway of the ship had pushed them to graze against you. But then Sam would tug you out of their path with a scowl.

Everybody knew the pearl from your mother’s wedding dress wasn’t the only way you’d be paying for your trip to Tortuga. Every crewmate knew such a payment was reserved for their captain and first mate, since the men had given up their share of the loot for every raid that would happen along the way. But the bolder ones couldn’t hold back on their curiosity.

Because of the attention you drew, the Winchesters possessively guided you out of sight the first moment they could. When the cabin door shut, you faintly heard the click of a lock.

You shivered. Each brother was looking at you hungrily. Like they could see you through your dress and shift. You hugged yourself close, suddenly feeling very much like a scared rabbit between wolves.

Dean curled a finger at you, summoning you to the center of the room. He barely kept himself from smirking as you hesitated. “It’s alright, sweetheart. But. Come. Here.” When you were finally within reach, he lightly gripped your chin. “Do you have any idea what it was like having to watch my crew eye you over like you were a prize at auction?” His other hand slid back around your waist, tugging you close. Close enough for you to feel the hard heat trapped in the front of his pants.

Then Sam stepped behind you, and you could feel a similar predicament against your lower back. He smoothed his hands from your shoulders down your arms. His cheek pressed against yours. “All those men who want just ten minutes with you. Ten minutes to ravish you and complete themselves.” He ran his nose along your jawline. “But we’ve got you all to ourselves, whore.”

Dean frowned at him, obviously disagreeing with his tone towards you.

“What?” Sam gripped the back of your neck and shoved you towards Dean. “She likes it. Feel it.” He waited until Dean had his cheek pressed to yours before massaging your hips. “You don’t mind being our personal whore, do you? I hope not, because you’re all ours until we say you can get off this ship.”

Stuttering, Dean tried to recatch his breath after your body rocked into his. Your tiny whimper under Sam’s promise made Dean wild. His pupils were blown wide when he stepped back to look at you. “Yeah, alright.” He bobbed his head. “Not usually my flavor, but… I can’t argue with the results.” Brazenly, he deeply kissed the valley between your breasts.

You arched into the kiss. While your body pressed against Dean, your head lolled back against Sam’s chest. The taller brother straightened your posture by pulling your hips back to him. He couldn’t help but grind you against his bulge.

“She’s wearing too much,” Dean murmured against your skin.

“Mhmm. She is.”

With a whine, you hmphed as the brothers stepped away from you, taking the heat with them.

Dean half-sat on his desk and nodded at you. Sam stepped to stand beside him, crossing his arms. He smiled, waiting.

This was new for you. Due to the secrecy of your tryst back home, you’d kept your clothes on. The thought of baring all of you to two men you barely knew…. You hoped they couldn’t hear your heart trying to thunder its way out your chest. But you tugged at the front ties of your dress slowly. You made sure both of them watched as your fingers curled under each bit of braided thread, their gaze completely enraptured by your movements. Quietly, you toed off your shoes. If you were going to be a courtesan in Tortuga, you would need to be captivating. Now was a good time as ever to practice.

But the way that the pirates kept having to remind themselves how to breathe told you maybe you didn’t need the practice. They were men after all. Happy to have any woman with their grasp. And they definitely had you.

There wasn’t a dignified way to take off your shift. You did your best. Pulling up the hemline, you slowly revealed your ankles, and then your knees. The brothers held their breaths as you pulled the fabric above your waist. Dean coughed out his oxygen as your breasts were revealed next. With a flourish, you tugged the fabric overhead and tossed it to the side. Part of you wanted to stand proudly, feet apart, daring them to take you. But all you could do was stand there, trying to cover yourself back up.

Dean rushed over, taking your hand to drag your arm away from your breasts. He caught your gaze and brought your knuckles to his lips. Distracted, you didn’t see Sam move until you felt his hands smooth from your waist up your ribs. You never noticed how large his hands were until they were cupping your breasts. He rolled your pebbled nipples between his fingers while Dean watched. As he pinched a little harder than before, you whimpered. Dean’s tongue darted out over his lips. “I think you should thank my first mate for shielding you from the crew. We about had a mutiny on our hands.” He kissed over your brow, dazing you.

You did as you were told. Spinning in his arms, you ran your hands up Sam’s torso to link behind his neck.

“Say ‘thank you, Sam.’”

You lazily lifted your gaze up to his. “Thank you, Sam. For protecting me.”

Sam’s hands gripped your ass. Out of your line of sight, Dean tilted his head to appreciate the view. But Sam panted, “anytime.”

“May I kiss you?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Before you could raise onto your toes, his lips were on yours. Trembling, you did your best to grip his shoulders as his hands wandered all over your body. He filled your mouth with his tongue. Overwhelmed, you could do nothing as he stepped you back until you bumped into the desk. It was clear of its instruments and maps; they were stored in the drawers when not in use. Which left a large flat surface for Sam to press you onto. He bullied you up onto the wood, never taking his lips off yours or letting one inch of your skin go untouched. He suddenly flipped you. The wood was cool against your stomach, and his body was hot and needy against your back. Your toes frantically scrabbled for hold on the floor. But Sam rutted hard against your ass. He frantically tried to both untie his pants and also to reach around for your sex. When he found how slick you were already, his head fell forward to rest between your shoulder blades.

“Is she wet, Sam?”

You looked up hazily. You’d somehow forgotten about Dean. But there he was, sprawled across his office chair. His hand lazily palmed his hard length still trapped in his pants.

“She’s so ready for us,” Sam panted. He gently slid two fingers into you, making you see stars with the sudden stretch.

Dean laughed. “Are his fingers big, sweetheart? Just wait till you’re full of his cock. Can’t wait to see that pretty face when he splits you open.” He gripped himself tight when your mouth fell open.

The stretch of Sam’s fingers within you was glorious. The back of your mind kept reminding that you probably needed to put on a show for them. But then he would curl or scissor his fingers against your inner walls and your brain would haze over.  He rewarded your hungry pussy with a third finger. You forced yourself to keep breathing, keeping your release at bay. Between your moans and sighs, you pleaded with him to fill you. Dean smiled wide as you cried out, finally speared on his brother’s cock.

When you were able, you did your best to watch Dean. His length was out, long and proud, against his stomach. He stroked in time with Sam’s thrusts behind you. It was getting harder and harder to blink. Mostly you wanted to close your eyes and feel everything Sam was doing to you. But then you’d catch a glimpse of Dean and his self ministrations, and you wanted more than anything to have him filling you up instead. It was all so much. You clawed at the desk.

“Gonna cum? Gonna cum on this thick cock like our perfect whore?” Sam sheathed himself fully into you, pressing you into the desk. “Answer me.”

You nodded. Desperately, you tried to roll back your hips. “Please- I’m so close. You first-”

“A good whore does what she’s told.” Sam nipped at your ear. “Let go. Go on. Cum on this cock.”

He dragged out, only to harshly spear you again. It made your vision white out. You could hear screaming, and assumed it had to be you. Sam continued to thrust, chasing how well your walls were clamping on him.

But at the last minute, he pulled out, spilling over your back. With a smirk, he watched your thighs shake as he covered your back with his ropes.

“Pussy too good for you, little brother?” Through his teasing, Dean’s voice was strained. His fist rested tight at the bottom of his cock.

“Nuh-uh.” Sam shook his head, wiping his hair away from his sweaty forehead. “Wanted to mark her. Claim her as ours.” With a tilt of his head, he invited Dean to do the same. 

You moaned into the wood as Dean painted your back with his release too. Sam’s hand spread wide over the mess, pushing it further across your skin and deep into your pores. Satisfied, he gave your ass a pat. You heard him grunt as he redressed over his sensitivity. Dean cleaned off your back with one of his discarded shirts from the floor.

Both men went tense as a knock sounded on the door.

Dean quickly stood you up, steadying you as you almost toppled over on sexed-out legs. He snagged his coat off a wall peg behind him. Sam waited until you were covered up before he opened the door.

“Yes, Mr Webb?”

A man with dark brown hair almost as long as Sam’s and a short beard stepped in. He glanced at your dress and shift still laying in the center of the room. He did his best to not look your way. “Ah, well… the crew and I…”

“Lee.” Dean leveled his voice to a commanding lowness. “What do you need.”

“A heading, sir. We should be about a day out from Charlestown.”

Sam did his best to block the man’s view of you, but Dean was already tugging his coat tight around you. He held the front closed over your chest, trapping your arms within the fabric. You buried your face into his shoulder while he stared down his crewmember.

“We’ll have the heading for you within the hour. Keep heading south until we come to tell you otherwise.” Dean exhaled dramatically when the man shuffled his feet. “Is there something else?”

Lee Webb stammered around, but he eventually asked, “the crew was wondering… how our prospects were looking for the Ambrosia?”

The brothers shared a smug look. Sam stared him down. “If the other ladies are even half as good a fuck as her, we’re set.”

As the man grinned lewdly at you, a few hoots came from outside the door. Sam swung it wide and shouted, “don’t you all have something to be doing? Or shall I find some extra tasks?” Outside, the scurrying of boots suggested they had plenty to do already. He looked down at the crewmember still hovering in the cabin. “I know it’s a bit early, but we should probably scrub the prow so the salt doesn’t split the boards.”

“You know, I would, but I’ve got the… the things to see to and need to help Benny in the galley, and, yeah. I’ll go back to my lookout, sir. Captain.” He copped one more glance before Sam had to shove him out the door.

Dean laughed as his brother closed the door with an eyeroll. “Can you blame him?”

“No. Still doesn’t mean I have to like the cretin.” He ran his hand over his face. “Time to plot our course. Since we need something to show the helm in under an hour.” Sam withstood his brother’s glare and nodded at you. “Besides. It seems like we need to give our woman a break.”

Dean glanced down as you hummed. Your eyes kept drifting shut. With the sway of the ship, you couldn’t stop rocking into him, sighing contentedly. He muttered something about how you’d need to figure out how to stay awake after a session. You nodded. “Aye, Captain. I’ll work on that.” Humming around a smile, you rested your cheek on his chest.

Across the room, Sam shook his head.

“Ah, ‘scuse me, Miss, but I need this back.” Dean took back his coat, hanging it in its spot. Then you were lifted into his arms.

“How come she gets to sleep in your bed?”

As Dean laid you down in his bunk, he winked at you. “Captain’s benefit.” He stroked his thumb over your nose, sending you back to sleep. They worked over the maps as you slumbered.

Masterlist

***

Part 3: The Captain's First Payment

No Cum November 2023

[anonymousewrites]

Clan of Three (Book 3) Chapter Thirteen

Father Figure! Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Teen! Reader

Chapter Thirteen: The Trap

Summary: The Mandalorians begin to scout Mandalore and come upon a fight.

Mouse Note: Summary Translation: Shit's going down

            The following morning, the Armorer took some of the surface survivors of Mandalore to the cruiser above the atmosphere. They were too weak to continue, so while the rest of the scouting party and the stronger trio of survivors continued, she would ensure the Mandalorians were taken care of.

            On the surface, the large ship-speeder rolled over Mandalore with the Mandalorian tribes tense on the deck. Most kept to their own groups as thunder rumbled in the skies above, but Paz and Axe were playing a board game. Axe moved a piece, and then Paz did.

            “You can’t move an enforcer like that,” said Axe.

            “It’s a flank jump. And you’re about to submit,” said Paz.

            The tension of the conversation caught the attention of every Mandalorian on board.

            “But only the Wing Guard can flank jump,” argued Axe.

            “The Enforcer moves like a Wing Guard when it’s flanking,” said Paz.

            Axe huffed. “These primitives make up their own rules for everything,” he muttered. Koska and a few other Nite Owls chuckled.

            They just don’t know when to shut up, thought (Y/N), narrowing their eyes.

            Paz stood up at the insult and drew his vibroblade. The tension was palpable, and the Mandalorians tensed, their natura fighting instinct piqued.

            “Serious?” questioned Axe as if he was the bigger person when he had in fact lowered himself to insults first over a game.

            “Submit or fight,” said Paz.

            (Y/N) stood carefully from their seat, and from below, Mando and Bo-Katan emerged to see the argument ensuing.

            “Can you believe this?” said Axe, still pretending he was more mature.

            He jumped up with his jetpack and kneed Paz in the face. He landed and grabbed his own dagger. Axe and Paz lunged for one another, grappling and punching as other Mandalorians watched eagerly.

            “Should I step in?” asked Mando.

            “Neither side can step in,” said Bo-Katan. “It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

            Paz and Axe were still swinging at one another, their fight not ending anytime soon. Both were tough warriors. Neither would bow to the other until absolutely unable to continue. Each time one was knocked down, they got back up and retaliated against the other. They grabbed their daggers and darted towards one another.

            “No! No! No!” Grogu slammed IG-12’s button over and over.

            (Y/N) agreed with him and threw out their arms. The Force pulsed around Paz and Axe. They froze in place, unable to continue their fight.

            “No. No. No,” repeated IG-12.

            Axe and Paz managed to turn their heads to stare at Mando’s two adike.

            “Are you guys so eager to destroy our efforts that you’re going to start repeating your mistakes already?” remarked (Y/N), narrowing their eyes. “What does it take for you guys to see this is bigger than your different traditions? Put your pride aside for Mandalore, for Maker’s sake.” They dropped their arms, and Axe and Paz were freed. They glared at one another, but they backed off. Neither wanted to seem like the person to start Mandalore’s infighting again.

            “You taught your apprentices well,” said Bo-Katan, smiling as she looked at Grogu and (Y/N).

            “They didn’t learn that from me,” said Mando. But that didn’t make him any less proud.

            “There, on the starboard bow!” alerted the scout from above, interrupting any further discussion and possible arguments as everyone turned.

            A creature was rising from the rocks they were nearing. The Mandalorians stood and drew their weapons. The creature raised its head and roared. It raised its tail, about to slam down on the speeder.

            “Abandon ship!” ordered the captain.

            “Let’s go!” ordered Axe.

            Paz supported Grogu in IG-12 and Mando scooped (Y/N) up as the Mandalorians activated their jetpacks to fly to safety. The ship exploded behind them as the creature slammed down on it.

            “This way, this way!” shouted Bo-Katan, gathering her people towards a cave to get underground. “Hurry up, faster!”

            “You good?” asked Mando, his voice worried even through the modulator.

            “Yeah,” said (Y/N), and Grogu pressed the “Yes” button.

            “Go, go, go,” directed Bo-Katan, and the Mandalorians headed farther down into the cave system.

            The rumbling of the creature only receded once they were deep under the surface of Mandalore. The Mandalorians calmly continued on, even when the path opened into a large cave where one side of the trail was a cliff face and the other a cliff itself, dropping endlessly down into the earth. City ruins. In the center of the large hall was a tall metal structure, towering over everything else.

            “Where are we?” asked Mando.

            “This is what’s left of the Great Forge,” breathed Axe, shocked he could ever return to this place. “This was once the heart of our civilization.”

            (Y/N) could understand. The Force moved around this room as if many great people had served in it and found peace. Indeed, the armor of the Mandalorians had been forged there, so it made sense. Like the Living Waters, it was a symbol of the Mandalorian Way.

            “But the fires have been extinguished since the bombings,” said Axe.

            “You lived here?” asked Paz.

            “We all did,” said Koska.

            “We never left,” said the captain of the survivors. “Survived by migrating along the surface until the war ended. Some tried to explore below, but none survived.”

            (Y/N) froze suddenly. “Buir…” they said.

            Mando was instantly on edge, their tone light and worried. Bo-Katan recognized it as well and turned to them.

            “Something’s here. It’s…bad,” said (Y/N), their hands traveling to their belt and weapons.

            “Bad?” asked Mando.

            (Y/N) nodded. From beside them, Grogu pressed a button. “Yes.” He sensed it too.

            “Something dark hangs over Mandalore, growing as we speak. You must be prepared to fight.”

            Mandalore the Great’s words reverberated within (Y/N).

            Bo-Katan frowned before she heard a soft whooshing. “Jetpacks?” she wondered.

            “More survivors?” asked Axe.

            “They’re not Mandalorians,” said (Y/N), grabbing their blaster.

            The Nite Owls donned their helmets, and no sooner were they protected than the shooting began. The troopers shot from where they flew, pinning the Mandalorians to the rock behind them.

            “They’re imperial!” shouted Axe.

            “Take cover,” said Mando, pulling (Y/N) and Grogu with him. He stood in front of them, shooting at the troopers. (Y/N) shot around him carefully.

            “They’re wearing beskar armor!” shouted a Covert Mandalorian.

            Sure enough, blaster shots were bouncing off the imperial’s armor.

            “We’re pinned down. We need backup,” said Mando urgently.

            “I can make a run for the fleet and get us reinforcements,” said Axe.

            “No, it’s too far!” warned Bo-Katan.

            “I can make it. It’s our only shot at taking the planet back,” said Axe. He was willing to risk everything for Mandalore.

            “There’s a split in the ceiling!” alerted (Y/N), jerking their head up.

            “I’ll lay down cover,” said Paz.

            He hauled up his machine gun and fired rapidly. Several enemies went down, the beskar alloy not holding up at that distance with that firepower. Axe jumped into the air and flew up into the crack as even more troopers landed to attack. The Mandalorians were still pinned, and several of them were fighting against injuries already. Screams echoed as some fell off the cliff. They were unable to gain real cover as the troopers attacked from all sides and flew around.

            Mando punched one and shot him in the chest, killing him. Bo-Katan blocked and sunk her dagger into another. (Y/N) rolled to the side as one trooper shot at them and shot back. Another attacked from the side, and (Y/N) threw their dagger into his throat. As he stumbled back, they Force-pulled it to them again before the trooper fell over the cliffside. They turned and pushed several advanced troopers from the cliff, panting at the exertion. One by one, the Mandalorians took a number of the enemies down.

            “They’re retreating!” called Paz.

            “Advance!” cried Bo-Katan.

            “For Mandalore!” shouted the Mandalorians, running forward.

            “Okay, adike, you’ve gotta keep up,” said Mando, checking on his kids first. Grogu and (Y/N) nodded before the entire family ran after the rest of the Mandalorians in the charge.

            They ran through the caves until they reached a metal tunnel. (Y/N) narrowed their eyes. It was very imperial architecture. Something was amiss, far more than just a squadron of troopers. The darkness surrounding Mandalore was there.

            Mando, Bo-Katan, and Paz led the group around a corner and attacked the troopers waiting there. (Y/N) wanted to be up there fighting, but Mando kept them carefully behind him as the Mandalorians advanced. (Y/N), however, wasn’t having any of that.

            They advanced with Mando, dodged and attacking with equal deftness. When Mando and Bo-Katan barged through a group of troopers, (Y/N) leapt forward over the troopers and attacked from the back. Their dagger and blaster flashed through the air as they shot and slashed. They pivoted and ran forward again with Bo-Katan and Mando as they chased the next group of troopers. They ended at a large landing pad in a cavern, and the squadron of troopers jumped into the air, soaring away as the Mandalorians shot at them.

            With no enemies in range, they looked around. It was a full imperial base below the surface of Mandalore. That was the darkness, (Y/N) knew it in their bones.

            “What is this place?” wondered Bo-Katan, keeping her blasters up.

            (Y/N) lurched as the Force thrummed. “It’s dark,” they said. “We need to go. Now.”

            They turned, but as soon as they did, the doors to the tunnel slid closed with a resounding thud. It was a trap. Bo-Katan, Paz, Grogu, Mando, and most of the scouting party were trapped between two doors while (Y/N) and a small group of Mandalorians were on the landing pad. Instantly, blaster shots rained down on the group trapped outside. Several Mandalorians fell from the shots.

            “It’s an ambush!” shouted (Y/N), dodging behind a box and firing from behind it.

            Behind them, Paz and Bo-Katan fired at the glass in an attempt to get through to their compatriots. Grogu banged on the window, trying to get to his sibling. Mando fired his blaster over and over at the window, desperate to get to (Y/N) as the rest of the Mandalorians fell. They raised their arms and pushed as many troopers as they could back, but several shot grappling wires that fastened around their arms. The troopers flew overtop, crossing (Y/N)’s arms, and pulled down. (Y/N) fell to their knees, still thrashing.

            “No! No! No!” Grogu banged on the window and pressed IG’s button over and over.

            “Ad’ika!” shouted Mando.

            “(Y/N)!” said Bo-Katan worriedly.

            (Y/N) twisted as two troopers approached and sunk their dagger into one’s exposed knee. He fell, but the other grabbed (Y/N) and forced them down again. Another grabbed their dagger and blaster before they could cause more damage, and the wires around their wrists tightened, keeping them from moving their hands. A group of troopers leveled their weapons at them in case they tried anything. (Y/N) couldn’t use the Force and didn’t have a weapon. Still, their anger and ferocity radiated from them. They were not beaten yet, not until they were dead.

            The Force murmured, and the Darksaber’s whispers grew louder behind the door, both whirling around (Y/N) with support for the fight in their heart. (Y/N) wasn’t down yet.

            “Ad’ika!” came Mando’s cry again, banging on the window with enough anger to shake the world. His kid was in danger; he needed to get to them. He couldn’t leave them in harm’s way. “(Y/N)!”

            “No! No! No!” IG-12 buzzed incessantly.

            From above the platform, a man in pure black beskar-alloy armor flew down. He landed with an ominous thud. The Mandalorians within the tunnel tensed, and (Y/N) glared. The armor was styled to be a twisted Mandalorian design. They hated seeing the Empire disrespect the Mandalorians in such a way, making their ways the Empire’s.

            “Their weapons,” said the modulated voice.

            A trooper dutifully passed the beskar dagger and blaster to the Dark Trooper. He threw the blaster away, but he tucked the beskar dagger into his belt. (Y/N) glared fiercely. They knew he would use it to make more of his despicable imperial alloy to pervert the Mandalorian ways further for the Empire’s benefit.

            The Dark Trooper walked forward, each step reverberating through the cavern menacingly. He brought his hand up and removed his helmet in a fluid motion. Moff Gideon. He smirked at (Y/N) before looking up at Bo-Katan and Mando.

            “Thank you for gathering the Mandalorians into one place,” he said. “You were a talented people, but your time has passed. However, as you can see, Mandalore will live on in me.” He grinned in perverse pleasure at twisting Mandalore to his will.

            But Mandalore will never bow to you, thought (Y/N). Not as long as I’m here. They had sworn to kill him. They would do it. They would protect Mandalore from Gideon’s darkness.

            “Thanks to your planet’s rich resources, I have created the next generation Dark Trooper suit forged from beskar alloy,” said Gideon proudly. He stepped forward and gazed condescendingly at (Y/N). “And the most impressive improvement is that it has me in it. You see, every society has something to offer. The cloners. The Jedi. And even the Mandalorians. By aggregating the best of each, I will create an army that will bring order to the galaxy.”

            Gideon’s eyes flicked up to Bo-Katan, and his smirk grew even more sickeningly wide. “Why don’t we take your fleet off the board while we still have the element of surprise?”

            (Y/N) trashed against the troopers holding them, their ferocity still mounting as their determination to protect their family and the Mandalorians matched it.

            “Activate the interceptors and bombers,” ordered Gideon.

            “No!” shouted Bo-Katan.

            Around the cavern, stormtroopers ran to ships and loaded in. They had the firepower to destroy the Mandalorians above the atmosphere with the element of surprise.

            “In but a few moments, the Purge of Mandalore will be complete,” said Gideon.

            His words were cold and sent icy chills down the Mandalorian’s backs as the dire situation grew worse before their eyes. (Y/N) just grew hotter with resolve and barely restrained ferocity.

            Gideon jerked his head towards (Y/N). “Take them to the debriefing room.”

            The stormtroopers forced them up to their feet, and they glared at Gideon. Their Ushti markings creased with their eyes, sharp as the knives they wanted to drive into Gideon’s chest.

            “I’m going to kill you,” said (Y/N). Their gaze was pure fire, but their words were ice cold.

            “You swore that once, and yet your situation hasn’t improved much since then,” said Gideon cruelly.

            (Y/N)’s hand curled into a fist, and beyond the sealed doors, the Darksaber quivered at Bo-Katan’s side. “I’m going to do it. I swear on Mandalore the Great and all the Mandalorians who came before that I will kill you.”

            Gideon narrowed his eyes and jerked his head to the stormtroopers again, who dragged (Y/N) away. They just glared at him with even conviction. It was nearly disconcerting how thoroughly they believed they would kill him.

            “(Y/N)!” shouted Mando through the window as they were dragged away.

            “Now that’s handled…” Gideon turned back to the trapped Mandalorians. “Bo-Katan, I believe it is time for you to surrender the Darksaber and to tell these people that this planet is mine.”

            “We fight for Mandalore,” said Bo-Katan. “Now!”

            “This is the Way.” Paz lifted his machine gun and began firing at the window.

            Bo-Katan darted to the second sealed door and activated the Darksaber. It was heavy in her hands, but as she protected Mandalore, it lightened slightly as she pushed it into the heavy metal barrier keeping the Mandalorians trapped.

            “Open the blaster doors,” said Gideon. “Kill them.”

            The doors keeping the troopers from the Mandalorians opened. Paz was the first line of defense as Bo-Katan cut a whole in the sealed doors. She kicked it open.

            “Move out!” she ordered.

            Mando pushed Grogu through quickly, guarding his kid. He needed to get to (Y/N) quickly. He had no time to wait.

            “Move out!” said the Mandalorians, shooting as they backed up to escape the trap.

            “Fall back! I’ll cover the rear!” said Paz nobly.

            In a few moments, it was just Bo-Katan, Paz, and Mando left. Paz kept firing as more troopers flew down, replacing anyone that fell to his machine gun.

            “We’re clear. Fall back!” said Bo-Katan.

            “Come on. We’re not leaving you behind,” said Mando.

            Paz looked back at them for a moment before slamming his fist on the blast door controls. The doors shut once more, leaving him exposed on the landing pad. “Go. There are too many.

            “No!” said Bo-Katan and Mando, rushing forward to the window.

            “Save your ad’ika, Din,” said Paz. “Protect Mandalore. This is the Way.”

            He turned back to his fight and began firing once more, never stopping or withholding as more and more troopers surrounded him.

            “This is the Way,” murmured Mando before he and Bo-Katan obeyed Paz and ran to the hole in the other blast doors.

            Paz remained behind to defend Mandalore to the end of his life.

l

            The Mandalorians hurried back through the tunnels of Mandalore.

            Bo-Katan was quick to radio Axe. He was the only one getting close to the fleet. They needed to know the fight was coming to them. “Moff Gideon is alive,” she said. “He’s gathered his forces, and he’s using our home world as his base. They’re sending up fighting to destroy the fleet. Evacuate everyone! Use the capital ship as a decoy. We can’t beat them in the air. We have to beat them on the ground.”

            They arrived at a split in the path and Mando stopped. Bo-Katan turned to him questioningly.

            “I need to find (Y/N),” said Mando. “I can’t leave them with Gideon.”

            Bo-Katan nodded in understanding. “Protect your ad’ika,” she said.

            “Yes,” said IG-12.

            “This is the Way,” said Mando.

            “This is the Way,” said Bo-Katan. She and the Mandalorians split off and ran one direction.

            Mando turned with Grogu and ran the other. (Y/N), I’m coming.

Taglist:

@im-making-an-effort

@gr33n-d00dles

@alexpangender

@painstakingly-juno

@treehouse-mouse

@theurbannoodle

@pedropascalsidechick

@dmitrytherat

@dilfsaremyfavourite

[supermarine-silvally]

❛ how about a kiss before i go? ❜ from the soft prompts pls? also I SWEAR if you make this angsty I will... wail in the comments but also cry bc I enjoy torturing myself and like pain -🍂

I assume you wanted Portada (Ace x Yara) for this heheh

There are references to the anime (and the Ace light novel) but no actual spoilers.

“So Pops is really sending you to take on Bohemian Knight Doma all by yourself?”

“Yeah!” Ace grinned, flexing an arm. “Pretty great, huh?”

Yara shrugged. “I mean, it’s smarter than sending the fleet if we don’t need to. Doma might be stupid enough to encroach on the Whitebeard Pirates’ territory, but he’s not going to turn down a one-on-one challenge when the alternative is facing an entire armada.”

“That’s true, too.” He laughed. “I know I only got this mission because Pops is testing me, but I feel good.” As if to prove his point, a small burst of fire flared out of his fingertips, flames quickly engulfing his entire hand. 

“Well, Fifth Division will be lying in wait should you need backup.”  

“Pssshh, backup. I’ll kick his ass before he even--”

“Hey, Ace!” 

Ace perked up at the familiar voice, glancing over to where a blue-haired man wearing a masquerade-like mask stepped off the gangplank and onto the deck of the Moby Dick. “Any news?”

“Yes. I’ve got the striker operational again. It should be good to go for your mission.”

“Great! Thanks, Deu!”

Masked Deuce smiled, giving his friend-- and former captain-- a polite bow before striding off. 

Ace turned back to Yara, grinning. “See?”

Yara tried not to smile as she shook her head. “I still think that thing is a death trap. If you fall off of it while riding the waves, there won’t be anyone around to haul your ass out of the water. The fact that Deuce designed it and not you is the only thing giving me a shred of hope.”

“Hey!” He pretended to be insulted. “I can build stuff.”

“Your attempt at fixing the starboard anchor tells me otherwise.”

“Well, maybe the anchor was being a jerk.”

Yara finally gave in, her shoulders shaking as she laughed, and Ace felt as if he’d won the lottery. His chest puffed up, pleased. 

“So…” She leaned back against the wall. “You’ve got your orders, and your-- I hesitate to call it a ‘ship’... Is there anything else you need?”

“How about a kiss before I go?” The words slipped out before he could stop them. Ace’s entire face went beet red. He laughed nervously, waving his hands in the air as Yara’s smile vanished, raising an eyebrow at him instead. “Kidding, kidding!! You don’t have to, um… because we’re not-- I mean… Sorry. Bad joke.”

“Hilarious, Portgas,” she deadpanned. 

Ace’s breath hitched as she reached over, placing a finger on the brim of his hat and tugging it down ever so slightly. A shiver ran up his spine, heart drumming erratically in his ribcage. God, she was so close to him, the scent of her favourite vanilla lotion flooding his senses. 

A small, bemused smile hinted at the corners of her lips as her hand lowered, and all Ace could think was how badly he wanted to catch it in his own and press kiss after kiss to her knuckles, her palm, her wrist; trailing down her arm until their chests were pressed closely together… letting himself drown in that beautiful gaze of hers as he held her against him, safe and snug…

She picked up the hat’s counterweight from where it hung against his bare chest, smoothing her thumb over the tiny cow skull embedded into the clay disc. “Just… Remember that you’re not invincible, as much as you like to pretend otherwise, Fire Fist.”

“It’s not like you to worry, Hellcat,” he couldn’t help but tease her in return. 

Yara let out a soft laugh. “You are going to give me a full head of grey hair by the time I’m forty, you know.”

“And you’ll still be as beautiful as ever. Er, I mean…” Heat rose to his cheeks. “You could pull it off, I’m sure.”

“There you two are, yoi.”

They glanced over as Marco approached them, giving them an amused look. “Yara, I think Vista’s looking for you.”

“Oh. I suppose I should be off, then.” She lightly touched Ace’s arm, making his heart nearly stop. “Good luck, Ace. Even if you don’t think you need it.”

With that, she strode off, heading towards the ship’s main cabins. Ace watched her go, the air around him already feeling colder without her presence. 

“You know you’re going to have to tell her someday, yoi,” Marco said, crossing his arms. 

“There’s nothing to tell her.”

“Ace…” The First Division Commander’s tone was firm, yet gentle. “You can’t help how you feel.”

“I know, I just…”

“I’m already giving up on Ace, too! I don’t care if he dies or not, I’ll just tell Garp it was an accident. It’s true that the ‘devil’s children have the devil’s luck’, and Ace is the devil’s son!”

He sighed. “She deserves far better than a good-for-nothing guy like me.” 

If she knew… There’s no way she could ever… 

Marco didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push it any further, either. The crew had begun to gather around them, cheering as they wished Ace a speedy victory. He waved back, one foot resting on the ship’s railing as he prepared to leap onto the striker, which was waiting in the water below. As he turned around, however, he caught a flash of violet hair. For a moment, he allowed his gaze to linger on her.

Yara seemed to notice, glancing over to meet his eyes. Her lips eased into a confident smile, giving him a slight nod as if to say, you got this. Butterflies burst into his stomach, his heartbeat quickening, beating out a rhythm so desperate, so desiring, so… unworthy. And yet… 

Yet he would love her from afar anyways, even if it was the most he could ever do.

One Piece nakama: @auxiliarydetective @daughter-of-melpomene @xoteajays if you wanna read &lt;3

[lady-hibiscus]

Prompt: "A fantasy world with an industrial revolution, where gods are hunted like whales were."

(prompt by writing-prompt-s, based slightly off American Gods because that book is a masterpiece and hatsune miku is a genius)

"Starboard side, there!" The gruff bearded man throws his weighted net with all his might, relishing how the great and powerful scales twist and tangle in the sea spray.

Now, more and more sailors are running to the deck, armed with all sorts of weapons. Someone rouses the prince- after all, he is the reason for this voyage.

They are hunting Triton, one of the last great gods.

The prince raises his face toward the morning sun, but there is none to be found as the sky grows dark with storm clouds. His smile twists into a sneer, and he motions the men to pull the flopping beast onboard.

Hand over hand, the prince's sailors draw in the net painstakingly.

As the sea-dragon- beast- thing- whatever it is, is dragged closer to the ship, it slowly shrinks in size. As it finally lurches over the side of the boat and lands on the wooden boards, it takes the form of a green-blue horse with a fish-tail at the end, whinnying and straining at its bonds.

Sea-spray crashes over the deck and a wave rises threateningly behind them- Triton is still a god, after all- until the click of a hundred muskets silence the waters.

The sky clears, the waves drop. The horse's fish-tail flicks nervously. These humans with their technology- ever since Prometheus dared to give them the fire-

The horse opens its mouth and struggles to piece together the sharp vowels and consonants of the human language- one of them, anyway. When did humans get so many? He remembers Babel, or something like it.

"Please- do not kill me, let me be," the horse creaks slowly. "I have lived millenia in these waters."

"On the condition that you show us your most pleasing shape," says the prince, ever so clever. "A shape worthy of being strung over my throne."

Triton hates himself, but he bows his head. "Of course, my prince."

He remembers the times when mortals used to fall to their knees before him, a one-hundred-foot-tall sea-dragon, or a man made of shimmering waves, wielding his father's trident.

His father. Killed barely a decade ago as man rose over god, one of the first to fall in the "Industrial Revolution", as they called it.

Gods had stopped believing in men long ago, but men still believed in gods. It was their that brought the divine forth, that trapped them on this plane to be hunted to extinction like animals. Many gods had fought back, but those humans- Triton shudders- those humans with their "guns" and their "steam engines"- they were not cavemen anymore.

So Triton dips his horse's head and falls into the form of a sea-serpent the height of a man, the width of his waist. The colors of the serpent's scales shimmer from the black of the bottom of the sea to foamy green-blue of the top of the sea. The serpent hisses, once, quietly. A soft spray of foam bursts over the walls, and the men can suddenly see how this subdued creature was once an awe-inspiring god.

"I have done as you have ordered," the serpent says, barely audibly. "My lord-"

The quiet crack is so swift Triton must've imagined it. He looks down. A circle of gold ichor but the size of a pebble has appeared on his scales.

Hades takes him.

The prince puts down his subordinate's musket and approaches the limp coils. "Have this creature skinned and hung above my throne."

He smiles.

"And, of course, prepare the ship. We are headed to the coast of Africa next for a spider."

[dariusult]

FFXIV Write Day 2- Horizon

It had been a few days at sea, and the Navigator had seen fit to bless The Salty Temptress and her crew with both fair winds and calm seas for their return trip from the island nation of Hingashi to their home port in Vesper Bay, situated on the very southern tip of Eorzea's mainland. Such fair sailing normally would've had the crew feeling boisterous and in the mood for a spot of revelry, but the atmosphere aboard The Salty Temptress was as tense as the ship's figurehead was bawdy- which, as a carving of Llymlaen completely undressed and posing provocatively- is to say extremely.

Several crewmen stood on the aftcastle of the ship, crowding around the starboard gunwale and casting surreptitious glances towards the vessel's forecastle, where a solitary figure stood with arms crossed and her piercing gaze fixed on the horizon while she exuded an intense aura of foreboding.

"Mark me, lads." The bosun murmured to his fellow seamen as he motioned to the lone figure at the front of the ship. "That lass is trouble." "When'd the cap'n even let 'er on board?" The quartermaster hissed back, daring not look over his shoulder to steal a glance at the girl, lest she notice him looking.

"It was when we was makin' port in Kugane." The bosun replied. "We was just about ready to cast off when up saunters this wee Xaela lass. Without even a second o' 'esitation she looks the cap'n dead in the eye and asks 'im "where's this ship going?"."

"Just sidled up and asked THE Captain Guldfarr where he was goin'?" The cabin boy asked, positively flabbergasted that anyone on the face of Hydaelyn would have the courage to stand before the imposing mountain of a man who captained The Salty Temptress.

"Aye." The bosun nodded gravely. "As bold as brass, she was. So then the cap'n looks 'er over and says "Eorzea. What business be it o' yours?"." The bosun continued recounting his tale, dropping his voice an octave and adding a gravely rumble when recounting his captain's words.

"What'd she say then?" The cabin boy asked, his eyes as wide as the full moon on a night at sea.

"That's the thing." The bosun said, dropping his voice to barely above a whisper. "She didn't say a swivin' word. Just threw a bag o' gil in his face and marched aboard." A long silence followed as the bosun's tale hung in the air, the crewmen all slowly turning their heads to look again at the girl standing near the ship's bow. "So she's a payin' passenger, then?" The third mate asked quietly.

"She at least fancies 'erself one." The quartermaster replied, narrowing his eyes at the back of the girl's head. "But last I 'eard, The Salty Temptress weren't a pleasure barge."

"You should go tell 'er that." The cabin boy said quickly, rapidly patting the quartermaster's shoulder and nodding at the rotund man. "She can't disrespect our cap'n like that."

The quartermaster's expression hardened, and he slowly turned his head to look at each of his crewmates in turn, their eyes alight with expectation. He then turned back to look at the girl and nodded gravely. "Aye. That ye should." He then turned and placed a hand on the bosun's shoulder. "Let 'er 'ave it, says I!"

The bosun nodded in agreement as he glared at the back of the Xaela Girl's distant head. "That's ri-" He then quickly realized what had just been said and whipped his head around to gaze blankly at the rest of the crew, who were all now looking at him with the same determination which they had gazed upon the quartermaster with. His words caught in his throat and he quickly looked away, raising a hand to his mouth as he coughed awkwardly. He could feel pinpricks of sweat forming on his forehead, something about the idea of getting any closer to that creature at the front of the ship made his legs feel like jelly- but he couldn't stand to look weak in front of the crew either. He awkwardly cleared his throat and reached into his pocket to pull out a grimy handkerchief which he quickly used to dab the sweat off of his forehead. "Tell ye what lads..." He began, his voice breaking slightly as he began his thought. "We ought to go up there and tell 'er what's what together."

The rest of the crew quickly looked between the girl and the bosun before all exchanging glances with each other in a pause that felt like it lasted an eternity. The crew's hesitation was plain to see- but eventually one of them found their courage as the cabin boy steeled himself and nodded. "Aye... Together! We're the crew o' The Salty Temptress and we won't stand fer any disrespect!"

The cabin boy's words lit a fire in the rest of the crew, and they found their courage as they all voiced their agreement in a loud cheer, that was quickly shushed as they cast their glances towards the bow and then huddled back together. After a moment of whispering their plans to each other, the huddled mass of sailors all moved together as a single clump of men towards the front of the ship, and once they were within spitting distance of the Xaela girl they fanned out behind her with the bosun standing at the fore of the group.

"Oi!" The cabin boy shouted at the girl's back, and she quickly turned her head to look, a single piercing golden eye peering out from under a veil of silvery-white hair. Upon meeting her gaze, the boy instantly quailed, quickly ducking behind the bosun and out of sight.

The Xaela slowly turned around to face the assembled crew, her crossed arms and wide stance making her seem so much bigger than her small frame should've allowed. Her face was painted with two slashes of dark blue paint that blended with her scales and horns, standing out over the lighter blue of her skin that made her already quite intense golden eyes stand out all the more. She scanned the crew's faces, her withering gaze causing the men's formation to shrink inward as they all crowded together behind the bosun, who served as their sole bulwark against the aura of menace the girl was radiating.

"A-alright lass.." The bosun stammered, trying to find his courage. She couldn't intimidate him! She wasn't even five fulms tall! He swallowed hard and squared his shoulders. "Me an' the boys think you should get off our ship!"

The girl stared at the bosun in silence, her eyes boring into his with a withering intensity that made the seasoned seaman feel absolutely sick. Then, after the longest few seconds of the bosun's life, the girl slowly turned back around to face the front of the ship again, making a single utterance. "No."

"Right lads, there ye 'ave it. She's all yers!" The bosun quickly replied, his resolve shattering instantly as he spun on his heel and scurried past his crewmates to return to the safety of the back of the ship.

Without a moment of hesitation, the rest of the crew followed, scurrying back to the aftcastle to find none other than Captain Guldfarr himself crouched down behind the railing as low as his massive frame would allow, peeking over at the Xaela girl. He slowly turned his head and locked eyes with the bosun, but said nothing.

Thus did the remainder of The Salty Temptress's journey pass in tense silence. The Navigator saw fit to be merciful and expedite the ship's journey with yet more fair winds and calm seas. It wasn't long before the ship made port in Vesper Bay. As the boat pulled in and lowered its gangplank down onto the waiting pier, the Xaela girl stepped up to disembark, but paused for a moment. The crew held its breath as she stood in silence, and then she suddenly whipped her head back, causing the collected crew of briny buccaneers to all flinch en masse.

"Thanks."

And with that, she disappeared down the gangplank and was gone.

Shortly after, it was said that The Salty Temptress was retired as a privateering vessel shortly after, Captain Guldfarr retiring and his men finding work taking rich Ul'dahn merchants on pleasure cruises around The Cieldalaes.

They never spoke of the Xaela girl again.

[gerec]

AU-gust 2023

9 & 10. Joker: Shipwrecked, Exiled

Pairing(s): Cherik, Starles Warnings: N/A

The sirens start blaring at the first direct hit, the computer warning of severe damage to the auxiliary engines. Erik curses as Azazel makes a mad sprint to the Engine room, while the rest of the crew try to keep their cool under heavy fire. The Genosha is used to having a little heat on its tail, as their dealings are often with the least savoury of the galaxy’s myriad inhabitants, but even they can concede that this is a lot, and that they might not be able fly or finesse their way out of this predicament.

It's not exactly common after all, to have half a planet’s armada after you, or specifically, after the long-lost Crown Prince of said planet hiding away on your ship.

The Westchester fleet hails them again, the automated voice of their flagship blaring through the comms, “Genosha, we have you surrounded. Surrender now. This is your last warning.”

“Erik,” Charles murmurs, looking out of the cockpit window at the dozen fighters keeping them boxed in on their current flight path. “Do as they say.”

“Fuck no,” Moira says, before Erik even has the chance to tell Charles to shut the hell up. “We’re not giving you up. You’re one of us, and we’re not going to let those bastards kill you.”

The rest of the motley crew shout similar sentiments, and Erik has never been prouder of the assortment of miscreants and misfits he’s come to call family. And Charles is more than just a crew member; he’s Erik’s, and Erik is his, and he is not going to let that thug Marko lay a finger on the stepson he exiled ten years ago.

“If they wanted to kill me, we’d be dead already,” Charles counters, which…none of them can really refute, given the sheer firepower aimed in their direction. “Give me up and they might just let the rest of you go.”

Erik rolls his eyes, and even Logan and Emma scoff at his words.

“You’re too trusting,” Logan grunts. “Ain’t no way they let us go once Marko gets his grubby hands on you, Your Highness.”

“He’s right,” Emma adds with a grimace, “I wouldn’t if I were in his place. Better to tie up all the loose ends.”

“You don’t know—”

Whatever Charles was going to say, none of them hear it, the ship suddenly spinning out of control, a precise hit sending them careening down into the barren moon below.

Erik regains consciousness sometime later, thankfully still on board his own ship, and – like the rest of his crew - still in one piece.

Unfortunately, that’s the extent of the good news, because a quick check of the Genosha’s vitals finds the entire starboard side smashed open, and the main engine damaged beyond repair. It’s a miracle that they’re all still alive, given the severity of the crash, and wonders if the enemy might have done something to help slow their descent. But that’s abruptly the least of his worries, because Charles is not right beside him, strapped into his chair….  

He stumbles out of the cockpit down the main hallway, then down the stairs and off the exit ramp. It immediately becomes clear that they’re inside the flagship’s massive docking bay, and that the Westchester forces have successfully captured their target. What’s not clear is where Charles has gone, and why there aren’t armed guards at the ready to escort them to the brig---

Then he looks up and sees Charles, a tiny figure in the distance, flanked on either side by row upon row of soldiers in Westchesterian armor. A man dressed in the heraldry of House Xavier steps through the blast doors – tall, blond and decidedly handsome – and smiles at a stunned Charles. Erik doesn’t understand what he’s seeing; not when the man goes down on one knee and bows his head, and not when the hundreds of soldiers all follow in kind, paying homage to the Crown Prince with the price on his head.

The rest of the crew catch up to Erik, just in time to hear Charles breathe, “Steve? Is it really you?” “Your Highness,” the man says, joy and relief abundantly clear in his voice. “I can’t believe I finally found you. After all this time.”

“I don’t understand. Kurt sent you---”

“No.” He watches as Charles closes the distance and pulls Steve to his feet. “Your stepfather is dead. You are the rightful heir to the throne of Westchester and I’ve come to bring you home.”

Charles shakes his head. “I can’t believe it. My friends? And Raven? Are they…”

“They’re alright. I promised you, remember? I swore I wouldn’t let any of them come to harm.”

In the two years they’ve known each other, Charles has rarely spoken of home, and shared very little of his life before his forced exile. It had never mattered before, what Erik didn’t know about Charles’ past, as they’d agreed to keep their own secrets even as they fell into bed. But now it seems the past would no longer stay buried, and the implications of it all – Marko’s death and Charles’ future as Westchester’s ruler – threaten to upend their fragile coexistence.    

Then, as the soldiers all rise and start chanting their Prince’s name, Steve pulls a teary Charles into his arms and seals their heartfelt reunion with a passionate kiss.

[boyakishantriage]

Rushing through the water, the woman grabbing rope as the ship slammed onto its side, barking orders at the other aliens on the long ship. Pouring rain, cold rain, a whirlpool erupting behind them as they swirl in it's water.

"WE'RE GOING TO DROWN."

"WE'RE ALREADY DROWNING, QUIT COMPLAINING AND PULL."

The alien freezes, scowling she forces a step forward. The sail barely moving as she continues, stitches tearing as she rears back her hand. Slapping the alien.

"EITHER DIE IN THE WATERS TODAY, OR DIE BY MY HAND. WHAT DO YOU CHOOSE PUSSY?"

Holding both ropes, the sail frozen as the ship's sail pulls her back. Still glaring at the woman, she calls out another order.

"EVERYONE, PORT."

Aliens, while panicked listen, pulling ropes to port or starboard as per their orders before. Glaring at the frozen alien, the largest of the group she ignores her annoyance. Jumping off the port side to gain more leverage, the ship careening to rise to the starboard.

"FUCKING HOLD IT."

The ship creaks, the large log bending and turning in the swirl.

"SWITCH."

Slamming feet against monsoon rain, aliens letting gravity take hold, swinging into the air. The Terran slices the rope out the larger alien's hands, her swinging rope in her mouth. Both hands on the heaviest weight, she slams her feet against the opposing frame. Large and light, but larger than her own, it'd be easier if that moron has moved with everyone else, gripping starboard but hey. Dumb ideas are best conducted by dumb people.

The ship shifted, momentum ejecting the ship through the waves, slamming down it's sail in the opposing winds mid swirl as it sailed it's way out the dark hole. Winds roaring into the sky as the alien crew seemed to relax.

"EVERYONE, SECURE THE FUCKING ROPES."

"HOLD ONTO YOUR FUCKING ROPES, KEEP THEM STRAIGHT."

She'd already rushed over the ships edge, tying the sail in place she slid down the deck, holding her position she then barked out.

"PULL!"

A wave, a massive wave swelled out from the edge of the ship, aliens turning to see the shadow. And once more.

"I SAID, PULL!!"

Her voice wavering, but still louder than the roaring waves. Howling, she slams there rope into the deck, jumping forward as she leapt onto the mast. Throwing knives into the ground, sliding down a rope as she kicked an alien below deck. Throwing the rope into a direction, throwing a knife before repeating the action. The sail collapsed, sliding along the watery deck, the ship rising over the wave.

"PULL."

Ripping the small fishing spear out the deck, slamming it back down to force her forward. The rope loosening, dropping the sail as it picked up wind. Whoever wasn't in shock pulled ropes, seven ropes moved, straightening the ship's sails as she glared at the far end of the wave.

"SET RUDDER TO PORT."

"WHAT?"

"SET THE RUDDER TO PORT. NOW."

"YOU WANT TO ANGLE THE SHIP-"

Ripping a board off the ship, she threw it towards the rudder control, slamming against the back panel she shouted.

"RUDDER. PORT. NOW."

The ship moved starboard.

"HOLD."

The ship rose up, jumping off the bow, a pair of grapples thrown at the yard arms, as she rests on the fore. Keel creaking as it slams onto the falling wave. Shouting over the lip, she remarks.

"CAN ONE OF YOU BRAVE SAILORS COME AND HELP ME ONTO THE DECK??"

Cracking the jaw of the captain the moment the crowd swelled in their applause, before outrage would spark she slams fishing spears onto the fallen captain.

"You want to take fucking credit when I wasted all seven of my fucking spears?"

Lifting the captain by the neck of the shirt, she rears back. Then a knife barely misses the woman.

"That's more than enough."

Walking into the room, a wolf mask upon his pale face. Knives in his hand, he walks towards her.

"Sir! This-"

Cracking the captain across the jaw, sending the large man flying to the floor as he grabs her ear.

"We're going to have a nice LONG talk about how we deal with credit thieves. OCEANIA."

"OH FUCK YOU, YOU POMPOUS PRICK! I'll fucking cut your cock..."

The pair vanishes from ear shot, the captain getting to his feet.

"HOW DARE-"

Click.

"I'd be wise if you keep your mouth shut, Quiro."

"Who-"

His blood froze.

"YOU."

"Me. Now, unless you'd like to me to test how painful Unjo Onu can be to a non human target, I'd suggest you run."

"I won't be taking threats from- YEOW!"

Firing poorly into his side, nanites grew upon her face.

"Five."

He glared, opening his mouth to speak.

"Four."

Click. Revolver cocked, now pushing into the opposite side of his stomach.

"Three."

Glaring, he stepped off. Hands in the air as he walked off.

"Two"

Gun aimed at his head, taking aim through the sights the man slowly walked off.

"Bang."

The gun went off, shooting the man in the back of the head.

"Alright, judge. I'm reporting a murder, broken ship and a liquidation of assets."

"You can't-"

CLICK.

"I wasn't asking."

[sunshine-vine]

You asked for Hisoka x Chrollo prompts?

Mermaid octopus Hisoka x pirate Chrollo!

stay lovely~

-anon

The sea is calm, tonight. Chrollo doesn't trust it. The pitch-blackness crawls along his skin like a living thing; the humid tropical waters clinging with salt to the heavy air. He whispers something into the distance. With no breeze to carry his words, they fall like lead at his feet.

The sound of his own boots seem to thunder across the deck, each booming step ricocheting off the wood and into nothing. This old vessel belongs here just as much as any of the monsters lying below its hull, or so he tells himself. Come dawn, these waters will be the same crystal grey as his eyes, and high above the waves, the sun will shine.

He leans over the bow, breathing in the brine of lonely waters. Nothing. His human eyes see nothingness for miles. Only the stifling black, a smatter of glittering stars in a moonless night. He isn't fooled by their silence. This night plays its tricks on him.

There, in the distance, he feels the looming vessel. It's a sense for those with saltwater in their blood. He grins into the lying darkness, chancing a glance at the unfathomable depths below. He'd like to think, with a spot of light, he would see his reflection there. No matter. His voice still carries.

"Es tu hora, mí diablito. Lúcete para mí."

As they approach, he calls for Feitan to hoist their colors. Not that they will be seen, but the purpose remains. Let all the world know that on this night, The Spider and her captain stole their gold and ate their hearts.

Nearer, and nearer, still, until the creaking bow scrapes against the starboard. Grappling ropes sing with a chorus of whining steel and splintered wood. It's almost too easy.

Almost.

Kerosene pours down their lines, lighting the whole facade with violence. Chrollo smiles.

He knows to wait...

For that precise moment...

When the silent waters stir.

A gush of wind, a puff of smoke, and the sea comes alive.

There, with hellfire illuminating him from below and torch light ricocheting off his skin, is his Diablo. Hisoka - the monster from the deep.

Always such a marvelous performance, the still waters breaking like sheets of glass in his wake, scattering into innumerable glistening fragments. Black, orange, deep, crimson red burns in every direction.

The ocean lives,

because of Him.

As any capitán worth his weight in gold would say - Chrollo would know, for he's the only one - the crew one keeps must be greater than its leader, stronger, more capable to fight. Only Chrollo knows why this is true: he molded them all for a moment such as this.

So that Chrollo may watch this marvel towering above the flaming night, trapping his prey in uncounted, brilliant arms. This majestic destruction, his fluid grace rising from the sea to take command of it, this is the fabric dreams are woven from. Yes, Chrollo may smile and rest assured his knowing crew will plunder every nascent barrel and survive.

As stray beams crumble and his efficient crew slide their boots back to the deck, backs heavy in gold and sugar, alcohol and all the merriment this hateful world will provide, Chrollo stares, awestruck into the night.

The bow of the heavy vessel cracks inside fierce muscle, caught between human and monstrous forms.

And Chrollo worships, knowing the heavens weep in envy for his god.

His, and only his.

Because where others see a monster, calling him Kraken and Serpent and Beast,

Chrollo knows he is Hisoka, the one who ate his heart.

Hope you enjoyed, dear anonymous! I know you said Octopus Mermaid, but I hope Kraken Mermaid will suffice ;)

I'm SunshineVine on ao3 if this kinda thing is your jam!

[sparksavor]

"Starboard!" the remaining mechanic screams, leaning far, too far, over the rail. "Here it comes! Hard to starbo—"

Their warning cry is drowned out by an answering roar from the beast as Rowrum scrambles across the rolling deck, made slippery underfoot by the storm that still rages. His joints ache and his brain module feels as if someone is beating upon it with a forgehammer, but he grabs a hold of the harpoon gun regardless, swivelling it to aim at the cresting wave of mithril.

Not even a second later, he spies the beast's horn emerging from the liquid metal. "Shoot it!" the mechanic is yelling in his audial, but Rowrum bites the inside of his intake and holds his shot. He waits as the beast bears down on their little gunboat, waits until he can see the glimmer of its green optics—and then he fires.

His aim is true, and the harpoon smashes through the beast's left optic. Rowrum feels a momentary sense of accomplishment; and then dread as he realizes it isn't stopping. He'd buried a dozen feet of reinforced metal in the beast's brain module, surely, but it hadn't so much as flinched. It continues on its path, its jaws rising from the liquid metal, and Rowrum shakes off his shock just in time to dive behind the rail.

The mechanic isn't so lucky. He hears their wails of terror and then pain as the beast seizes them in one claw; he hears them echo long after it drags them overboard and into the depths of the Mithril Sea. Then there is only the rumble of the storm. Rowrum is alone.

They'd battled the beast for hours, and it had picked off his crewmembers, one by one. If only they'd made for Ky-Alexia at full speed after spotting the blip on their radar, they might all still be alive, celebrating their survival in some dingy dive-bar. Alas, their captain had been a brave fool, determined to acquire fame and glory by slaying a giant sea monster. They should have mutinied, but he'd moved them all with his gallant speech.

He had been the first to die, trying to fight off the beast as it destroyed their engine. Rowrum struggles to his feet, gripping the rail for support as the gunboat lurches and sways beneath him. The beast was circling again, he knew, though he couldn't see it. What a way to die, he thinks to himself with a feverish grin. I took the beast's eye, didn't I? Something to remember me by.

"I'm an old mech," he shouts into the howling wind, holding his arms out to either side. "I've lived a good life. Get it over with, you foul creature."

The swaying abruptly stops, almost throwing him to the deck. He grips the rail again and makes his way towards the bow, confused. The mithril crests before him, and the beast once more rises into view, slowly, until they're looking one another in the optic.

Rowrum's spark drops at the sight. He'd made a wreck of its left optic, but now it appears wholly undamaged. The beast opens one of its smaller foreclaws, and the harpoon he had fired clatters to the deck at his feet, twisted into a loop.

"You fought well, old mech," the beast says eloquently; another shock. "You have no fear in your spark. Do you really wish to die?"

"You're no sea monster," Rowrum accuses.

The beastformer blinks at him, the click of its (his?) optical shutters silent beneath the storm. "Answer my question."

Do you really wish to die? Rowrum considers his options, his gaze flitting from the beastformer's face to the listing gunboat. His crew is gone, likely devoured by the very individual now making casual conversation with him. Alone, he does not have the funds to repair the Ky Spear, and he doubts he'll be able to find another crew after word of his circumstances get out. He has always been a sailor; he has no other skills, and he's far too old to pursue a different career. He'll soon be destitute, and he has no intention of suffering such indignity.

"It's a long swim back to shore," he tells the monster. "I'd rather not." He hooks his legs over the rail and takes a seat, drained of his remaining strength. "My name is Rowrum. You remember that, beast."

"I will," it replies, its voice soft. "I remember everyone." Somehow, Rowrum believes it. He closes his optics; he hears the Mithril Sea sing as the monster lifts one massive claw, reaching for him, its spurs surprisingly gentle as they close around his frame—

—and then it tightens its grip, and he knows no more.

[brainyxbat]

Chapter 3: Eric Attacks- Great Escape From Warship Island!

(episode 56)

"Hey, Apis! Who're you talking to?"

"No! Don't come here!"

"Didn't Lost Island sink a long, long time ago?"

"Grandpa Ryu says that the island will surface again. But he doesn't seem to remember clearly where it is, and there's no clue. He was separated from his friends, and lost his energy. I want to take him back to his home no matter what it takes. He always tells me that he'll get his energy back for sure once he goes back to the dragons' nest. So I'll definitely find it for him."

"Okay then! I'll take him... to Lost Island!"

"Luffy! Weren't you listening?! Lost Island sank into the sea!"

"But since the legendary Millennial Dragon exists, I'm sure Lost Island also exists somewhere!"

"An island that's not even on a map?"

"Yeah, that's why we're going!"

-

The next day, a local was cutting wheat in a field. "It's hot!" He wiped the sweat off his brow, before something caught his attention. "Hm? Wh... what the heck is that?!"

A fleet of Marine ships sailed in from the horizon. "The Marines again?!" Another local exclaimed in fear.

-

Meanwhile, Luffy and Nami returned to the house. "Hey, everyone! This is so cool!" Luffy called out, but he and Nami found the crew fast asleep. Usopp had his head rested on his triceps on the table, Sanji was laid out on the floor, hands under his head, and Zoro leaned against the wall, with Venus' head on his shoulder.

"What's going on here...?"

"And, the 1,201st King was..." Bokuden mumbled in his sleep, still sitting upward.

"Geez..." Nami griped, "The story isn't over yet?"

"Hey, listen to me." Luffy startled Usopp awake with one poke to his sleep bubble.

"Ugh!" He screamed.

Just then, Zoro woke up. "What? Is it morning already?"

A groggy Sanji sat up from the floor. "I dozed off since the old man's story was so long," He groaned, and stretched his arms above his head.

Zoro nudged the young witch, until her eye blinked open. "Hey, rise and shine, shortie."

"Huh?" She yawned largely, and rubbed her sleepy eye. "Ugh, I must've fallen asleep. So many kings..."

One of the local men came frantically bursting in, making the crew more alert. "Th-there's a problem! Bokuden-san! Where's Apis?!"

"What's the matter?" Nami asked.

"Ah, you guys're pirates, right? A Marine fleet started blocking the harbor!"

"It can't be... just to capture Apis?"

"Why are they after a girl like that?" Usopp wondered aloud.

"It's not like she's done anything wrong," Venus added, "Seems like a lot of trouble."

"Hey!" Nami called attention. "Everyone, come with me!"

Sanji was on his feet immediately. "Certainly, Nami-san!"

The two greenheads shared an eyeroll. "Why?" Luffy asked.

"Just do it!" The navigator commanded.

"What do we do with the old man?" Zoro questioned.

Nami looked Bokuden over. "Looks like he's sound asleep, so let's let him be." She then turned to the man who entered moments ago. "Hey, when Bokuden-san wakes up, please tell him we'll protect Apis."

"O-okay," He complied.

-

Outside, the Marine fleet was closing in on the harbor. "Their ship is on the starboard bow!" An officer reported after spotting the Going Merry.

"Okay! The landing unit will come to Warship Island with me!"

"The rest of the crew is to seize their ship!"

-

Elsewhere, the whole crew, sans Luffy and Nami gaped in complete shock at what was before them: the dragon. Apis climbed to the top of his back. "Hi, everyone!"

"This is the Millennial Dragon Grandpa Bokuden was talking about," Nami said.

"See?!" Luffy gushed. "Isn't he cool!"

"Don't talk like he's yours!" Nami scolded.

"When you get closer to the Grand Line, you run into things like this, huh?" Zoro remarked.

"Since there're Sea Kings as well, I guess this is possible," Sanji agreed.

"Awesome!" Venus beamed brightly. "I've read about dragons, but never saw one in person before!

Usopp was more scared than the others. "I-is he really harmless?!" Just then, Ryu pushed his nose up with his own, then licked his face.

"Ah! He can be senile sometimes, so if he acts like you're food, get away!" Apis warned.

On cue, Usopp's head was between his jaws. "It's too late!"

"But it doesn't hurt, right?" Luffy laughed. "I guess you call it "soft-mouth?""

"Wh-wh-what're you saying?!" Usopp cried. "He's not a puppy."

"Let him eat you like that!"

"Zoro!!"

"Don't!" Sanji protested. "He'll have food poisoning."

"What'd you say, you damn love cook?!" Usopp raged.

Venus finally ran over, and looked Ryu in the eye with authority. "No, bad dragon! Bad dragon! Drop him!" She scolded him like he was a misbehaving dog. On command, he opened his jaws, allowing Usopp to escape, and hide behind a rock. "That's better."

"What the Marines are after is this Millennial Dragon," Nami said, "Frankly, the reason I brought you here is that we'd like to bring this Millennial Dragon back to Lost Island."

"Wh-what're you saying?!" Usopp exclaimed incredulously. "The Marines are closing in on us! We're gonna have enough trouble just getting away; how in the heck could we take such a big creature-"

"Grandpa Ryu..." Apis cut him off, "Wants to go home. So..."

"Don't tell me, Luffy..." Usopp grumbled, "That you promised her, like "Yeah! I'll bring him home."" He mocked the captain with a high-pitched tone.

"Yeah, I promised and said "I'll bring him home.""

"Don't do that! We don't know where that island is, right?!" The sniper ranted. "How are we supposed to get there?!"

"If we go, it'll work out somehow," Luffy said.

"As if!"

"He's got a point."

Usopp stood next to Venus at her words, and put his arm around her shoulders. "Yes, thank you!"

"But we've gotta try!" She pumped her fist in determination, resulting in him slumping over in defeat.

A worried Apis petted the dragon's snout. "I thought Grandpa Ryu would get his energy back once he goes home."

Usopp stayed quiet with sympathy. "Animals have a migration instinct," Nami informed, "This Millennial Dragon may know something.

"Yeah," Luffy agreed, "Let's find Lost Island!"

"But..."

"Well, things will probably work out, don't you think?" Zoro proposed, as Sanji lit a cigarette.

"Zoro," Usopp groaned.

"That's fine, but what are we gonna do with him?" Sanji asked, regarding their new acquaintance. "Just bringing him down the mountain alone will be a lot of work."

Apis perked up, as Nami smirked. "First, build a cart! A big enough one for Grandpa Ryu to ride."

"Let's do it!" Venus grinned with confidence, as Usopp facepalmed behind her.

"All right!!" Apis cheered.

"Gum-Gum Gatling!" Luffy bashed multitudes of trees down with his bare fists in a domino effect. Sanji then did his part next, kicking the trees in half, before Zoro cut more down, three-sword style. Nami, Usopp, Venus, and an awe-struck Apis watched, as the three boys presented perfect logs. "Is this enough?"

"Yeah," Nami gave a hand gesture with her thumb, and pointer finger touching, as she winked, "A-okay!"

"Since you did all this, I guess I have no choice," Usopp lamented, then pouted in defeat, "I'll do it. All right, I'll do it!"

"Yes!" Venus cheered.

Before long, a huge cart was assembled, with everyone in the crew (except Nami) participating. Usopp wiped his forehead with his arm after completing a wooden wheel. "Phew! I guess this is it."

Apis jumped for joy, as Luffy settled the logs with one foot. "This thing won't break even when Grandpa Ryu rides it!"

"Yeah!" Luffy agreed.

"But the harbor is blocked by the Marines, right?" Sanji reminded them. "What will we do with the ship?"

"Isn't it gonna work out?" Luffy asked innocently.

"No, it won't."

"Shall we make a raid?" Zoro suggested.

"Yeah, good idea," Sanji agreed.

"That's not gonna work, since we have Grandpa Ryu," Nami pointed out, "I have an idea about how we can carry him out of here. By the way, I want the Going Merry to be brought to the rear of the island."

"Okay!" Usopp stepped up confidently. "It's the precious ship that Kaya gave us. I'll do it."

"He's so cool!" Apis gushed.

"However... Zoro comes with me!"

"Me too?!"

"It'd be a good idea," Venus looked up at the swordsman.

"Then I'll leave it to you guys," Nami decided.

"Okay!" Usopp agreed. "So... how about we wait until nightfall?" Apis' smile dropped at that.

"No!" Nami snapped. "Bring the ship to the edge of the cape that looks like Usopp's nose."

Luffy looked out at said cape, and laughed. "You're right! That's Usopp's nose."

"So what're we gonna do?" The sniper wondered aloud. "Just bringing the ship won't..."

"Don't worry about it," Nami assured the sniper, "I don't think they'll find this place so easily. But in any case, hurry up."

"What?!" Usopp exclaimed. "Doing things on a hit-or-miss basis like that isn't..."

"Sanji-kun, Luffy!" The redhead interrupted. "Put Grandpa Ryu on the cart."

"Okay!"

"Okay-Nami-san!"

-

Meanwhile, a group of Marines invaded Bokuden's house, and all pointed their guns at him, but he stayed asleep. "Hey, old man! Where are you hiding this girl?" He showed a photo of Apis, but Bokuden didn't come to. "Hey!! Wake up!!"

That did it, but the results were not what they were hoping for. "Oh... did I already talk about the 1,201st King?"

"Wh-what're you talking about?"

"Lt. Commander!!" An officer called for him. "There're tracks from something being dragged in the backyard!"

Outside, Eric was examining the ground. "Eric! Did you find anything?!"

Sure enough, a long track was in front of them, leading into a pile of large rocks. "These tracks must've been made by them. They should be hiding somewhere in the mountain."

"Okay! We'll track them down!"

-

At the harbor, Zoro and Usopp peaked around a building, and noticed the Marines guarding the Going Merry. "Ahhh... this is why I suggested that we wait until night." Without a word, Zoro sliced two pieces from a pipe on the house. "What're you doing?!" Zoro stuck one piece in his own mouth, then shoved the other in the sniper's.

Using the pipe pieces as snorkels, the two sneaked by the Marines by swimming to the ship. They surfaced where they were out of sight; Zoro pulled his makeshift snorkel out, but Usopp struggled with his. "I'll go on ahead." Ignoring the muffled protests, he climbed up the rope hanging down the side, undetected.

Usopp, however, was discovered from his snorkel accidentally knocking on the side of the ship. "Hm...? Ahhh!" A Marine turned to him, now on alert.

"Ahhh!" Usopp's scream of terror was muffled. "Meh mound me!"

Two more Marines joined the first one. "It's them!"

"Don't let him escape! Fire!"

Usopp frantically dodged every gunshot, keeping his grip on the rope. "Zoro!!"

On cue, with a cut of a rope, the sail was dropped, and the Merry was moving away to safety, shocking the Marines. "What?!"

"Th-there was another one?!"

"Stop! Stop!"

"Stop! Or we'll fire!"

"Stop!!" The rope ladder snapped from the harbor, as the Merry drifted away. To the officers' shock, it was heading straight for their own ship. "Wh-what?! Are they going to ram us?!"

"Maht?!" Usopp exclaimed in terror, still inaudible. "Mis is mad!!" He ducked down for cover.

On the bigger ship, Marines scrambled for safety like ants. "It's gonna ram us!"

"Furl the sails!"

"It's too late now!!"

With a large tug by Zoro and Usopp, the Merry rocked the Marine ship, and sailed amongst the others. "Prepare to set sail!"

"Yes, sir!!"

"Hoist the anchor!!"

"Furl the sails!"

"Go after that pirate ship!"

"Yes, sir!!"

On the island, the woods were almost completely occupied by waiting officers, as a seagull observed from above. This was not good.

Higher up on the mountain, Nami smiled upon noticing a familiar ship drifting over. "Here they come!"

The seagull landed on Ryu's head, and chirped at Apis in warning. "W-we've got trouble! The bird said the Marines are getting close!"

"Oh no!" Venus' eye widened.

They watched, as a group of officers, led by the Lt. Commander, came closing in. "Oh... they came sooner than I thought."

"Hey, what're you going to do now?" Apis asked.

"Ahh, you don't have to worry," Nami assured, "Because we have these three," She referenced Luffy, Sanji, and Venus. "Once the Going Merry is at Usopp's Nose Cape, we'll go all the way down."

Down below, Eric saw the group watching them, including their target. "That brat is up there."

The officers were shocked at the creature laying with them. "Wh-what's that?"

"I-it's a monster!" Their fears only worsened when Ryu looked straight at them.

Eric however, let a smirk grow. 'I finally found Dragonite, the elixir of immortality!'

At the mercenary's silence, the Lt. Commander took over. "Don't panic! That's the Millennial Dragon we've been looking for! We'll get closer to them without being noticed and capture it in one shot!"

"Yes, sir!!"

On the ship, Usopp still struggled to pull his snorkel out of his mouth. "Dammit! After we went through all that trouble to escape!"

"We haven't yet," Zoro pointed out.

Sure enough, a Marine ship came up next to them. "Ahhhh!" Usopp screamed, the pipe finally coming out of his mouth.

"Don't let them get away! Capture them without fail!"

"Ahhh! Zoro! Zoro! Zoro! Zoro!" Usopp rambled in fear. "T-t-take care of the sail!"

"Got it! Leave it to me!"

Usopp steered the ship from inside the cabin. "Dammit! Their ship is big, but it's fast!"

Up on the mountain, Apis gasped at the sound of cocking guns, and stood in front of the dragon. "No!! Don't shoot Grandpa Ryu!!"

"Apis!" Nami panicked.

To her surprise, Ryu shielded her with his wing. "Grandpa Ryu!" Now determined, he rose his head up, striking more fear in the officers.

"As I thought, that brad had something to do with the Millennial Dragon," Eric observed, "Although I didn't think that I'd be able to encounter a real live dragon. I no longer care about that brat. That dragon is the elixir of immortality that we've been looking for!"

"Fire!" The Lt. Commander ordered.

To Apis' horror, they did just so. "Stop it!" She tried to stop them, but Luffy stood in her way, directly in front of the bullets. Due to his rubber body, the bullets bounced off of him. "No use!!"

"Wh-what the heck?!" The Marines gaped in shock. He was completely unharmed!

"Th-the bullets definitely...!"

"So you have the powers of a Devil Fruit," Eric noted.

"That's right. I'm a rubber person."

Venus stepped up, and conjured an energy ball above her palm. "And I'm a witch."

"R-rubber person!"

"A witch!"

"D-Devil Fruit?"

"What's that?"

"Use-"

"Use swords!" Eric cut off the commander. "Guns don't work against the rubber!"

The Marines started with swords, as ordered. "Sanji-kun!" Nami called worriedly, keeping a scared Apis close.

"Yes, Nami-san!" Sanji charged in, and took them down with his kicks.

"Gum-Gum Gatling!" Luffy joined in the fight, punching more officers out.

"Witchy-Witchy Ball!" Venus contributed, blowing them back with her move.

With that, they were all down, except the two higher-ups. As the three loomed over them, they cowered in fear.

Eric glared in annoyance. "You call yourselves the Marines? Really, you guys are good for nothing." He approached the trio fearlessly.

"Hm?" Luffy hummed. They were shocked to see the mercenary take down an officer, who was trying to flee, with one swipe. "What was that?"

"A knife?" Sanji wondered aloud. Nami watched cautiously, as Eric came closer.

"My name is Eric the Whirlwind. I'm a mercenary hired by Nelson Royal. We don't have any business with you pirates; we have some business with that Millennial Dragon. If you stand in my way, I'll make you a victim of my wind slash, the power of the Sickle-Sickle Fruit."

"Hey, he said Sicko-Sicko," Venus misheard through his introduction.

"Sicko?" Luffy repeated.

"What should we do?" Sanji asked.

"What shall we do?" Luffy turned to the redhead. "Nami! Do we have to keep going?"

She looked over, and the Merry wasn't at the cape. "A little bit longer!"

"Nami-san's lovely even when she looks at the distant ocean," Sanji swooned.

"Knock it off," Venus rolled her eye.

"Just hurry up."

Eric was starting to get mad now. No one was paying attention. "Hey! You bastards! Are you listening to me?!"

Luffy turned back to him. "You're Eric the Sicko, right? We're listening."

"That's not right! I didn't say "sicko", I said "sickle", like the one that slices!!"

"We're sicko talking about this!" Luffy joked. "Just kidding!"

Eric prepared his hand for an attack. "Hope you don't regret making me angry. Sickle-Sickle.... Whirlwind!"

From his movements, sharp winds came blowing in, scratching Luffy, Sanji, and Venus above their elbows, to the point of shedding blood, and ripping the latter two's sleeves. "Ow!" Luffy held his arm where the cuts were inflicted. "What was that?"

"I see," Sanji repeated his actions, as blood ran down his hand, "A wind slash, huh?"

"Looks like I've got some patching up to do later," Venus pouted, as she too kept pressure on her wounds.

Eric grinned evilly. "The winds I create are as sharp as legendary swords. No matter how trained you are, it's easy for me to tear you apart."

"Aren't we going yet?" Apis asked Nami.

"No, not yet!"

"Now, out of my way! Hand over the Millenial Dragon!"

"No way!" Luffy glared.

"Do you wanna experience the Sickle-Sickle Whirlwind again?"

"Aren't we going yet, Nami-san?!" Apis asked again.

Just then, Nami saw the Merry approaching the cape. "Here they come! They're here!" She turned to the three below. "Sanji-kun! Luffy, Venus!"

"Okay, Nami-swan!" Sanji gushed; he, the captain, and the witch ran back up to the ledge.

"What?!"

"We'll be right there!" After Luffy and Venus were on Ryu's back, Sanji prepared to push the wagon. "Nami-san! I'll be your love catapult!"

"Just push already!" Venus ordered, as she held onto Luffy. Using the mountain for leverage, he sent them rolling down.

"I won't let you escape!" Eric stood directly in their path

"Gum-Gum..."

"Sickle-Sickle..."

"Pistol!!"

"Whirlwind!!"

After the attacks cancelled each other out, Eric jumped out of the way, and watched them disappear down the mountain, adjusting his skinny shades. "I won't let you escape."

The passengers cheered with ecstasy as they sailed down. "We're gonna run into a rock!" Apis exclaimed.

"Guys!"

"Gum-Gum... Gatling!" Luffy threw hundreds of rapid punches at the huge rock in their path, sending pieces raining down on them. Sanji kicked them into smaller, less dangerous pieces, while Ryu used his tail to swipe others away to protect Apis, and Venus broke some with her energy balls.

"What is this?!" Apis exclaimed in fear.

Luffy laughed heartily. "That's how I do it."

"Tree!" As Venus ducked down, they rolled under a tree, and his chin got caught on a low-hanging branch, stretching his neck. "Dumbass!" She held onto his waist again, as they were both in the air; Ryu brought them back with his tail, and they were back on track.

"That was close..." He held onto his hat.

Apis was still stunned, but then started to enjoy the ride. "Yoo-hoo!"

"This is awesome!" Venus exclaimed.

"Yoo-hoo!" Apis held onto Ryu. At this point, everyone was having a lot of fun. "Yoo-hoo!"

"We're almost there!" Venus pointed out.

Meanwhile, Usopp and Zoro were nearing the cape, but still being tailed by the Marine ship. "Nami said to come to the edge of that cape, right?" Usopp confirmed.

"Yeah."

Usopp glared in frustration at the larger ship right behind them. "Darn. We couldn't get rid of them."

"Yeah." Zoro watched, as the Marines drifted beside them. "Well, after all, we have no choice but to make a raid." On cue, he spotted the wagon barreling towards them. "Yikes!!"

"Hey, guys!" Venus waved.

"Go! Go!" Apis cheered.

"Go!" At Luffy's cue, the wagon sailed off the slope, and was in the air.

"Yoo-hoo!!" The scared Marines ran off just in time, before the wagon collided with the crows' nest, and sent the mast in the ocean, before landing themselves more safely.

Usopp and Zoro could only watch in shock, as they drifted next to them. "What a crazy plan that was!" Zoro remarked.

Apis gave a thumbs-up while recovering from the wild ride. "Well, it worked out!"

Luffy laughed, as he and Venus laid on their backs. "Exactly."

"Go after them!" They heard a Marine command. "Go after that ship!"

"We can't move, because the sail is in our way!"

"What?!"

Meanwhile, Usopp tied the wagon firmly to the back of the ship. "I think this will do."

"That was fun," Luffy said.

"That was fun!" Apis agreed.

"Definitely," Venus chimed in.

"Apis!" Nami called. "Are you okay?"

"Yep!"

Nami turned to the captain. "Luffy, we can leave at any time now."

"Okay!" Luffy beamed. "Set sail... for Lost Island!!"

Usopp sweatdropped. "But which way?"

"Hmmm, that way?" Luffy looked and pointed to his left, then to his right. "Or, maybe this way? Huh? Huh? Huh?"

"Are we gonna be okay when you're so unreliable?" Usopp expressed his worry.

"Well, we'll just have to go," Zoro smirked.

"Yeah!" Venus agreed.

"It's not on the sea chart either, so..."

"You're lovely, Nami-san, even when you're decisive," Sanji swooned.

Usopp hung his head down in defeat. "You know..."

The sails were furled, and they were on their way, brimming with confidence, as Ryu slept on the wagon. "Our destination is Lost Island!!"

[ohno-the-sun]

Pfpft I have so many I love mermaid fics

I think these are all really good if you need inspo

Though they’re all more mermaid than pirate if that’s okay

Does anyone have any pirate or mermaid sun/moon/eclipse fic recommendations. They can be with or without y/n .

[starlitships-moved]

i demand a ranked lists of all fnaf fanfics you are reading. i want to read them too

*rubs my hands together* There are so many good ones...!

Okay, we've got:

Solar Lunacy by bamsara ( Just. TOP TIER. CHEF'S KISS. AMAZING FIC. The characterization of Sun and Moon is SPOT-ON. Reader is just a simple employee - A jack-of-all-trades kind of worker - that befriends the Daycare Attendant... And learns some rather dark secrets along the way... )

Ventura Highway by MadameMiz ( "You are an idiot who, in the eyes of the law, just stole a multi-million dollar piece of AI animatronic technology from a highly controversial company. Now a fugitive, you weigh your options, and with few choices available you decide going on the run is your best bet. Time for a road trip." )

Twin Animatronics With Too Much Time on Their Hands by twinanimatronics ( ANOTHER fic that has Sun's character spot-on! Reader is the Daycare Attendant's handler. Also Sun and Moon are separated here! Lots of memes and silliness in this fic, but also a lot of angst! )

404: Personal Space Not Found by CrazedAuthor ( this one REALLY holds a special place in my heart because this particular reader insert is by far the closest to how my actual personality is! Reader is working at the plex as a staff member, and befriends the Daycare Attendant. Sun is easy to get along with. MOON, on the other hand.... Reader also befriends DJMM! Tons of cute interactions between Reader and the DJ! )

(It was, in reality, not fine) by bones-of-a-rabbit ( ANOTHER fave of mine! I love how soft Sun and Moon are towards us/the reader insert! Reader is the new tech/repair person at the Mega Pizzaplex, and their first task is to separate the daycare attendant into two separate animatronics! However, Reader is in WAYYYY over their head... )

Copper Cogs Rusted Through by paper-lilypie ( A year after the fire at the pizzaplex, Reader finds the remnants of the Daycare Attendant, manages to repair them, and lets them stay at their home! Reader is also working multiple jobs and taking care of their 3 siblings at home! )

Holler If You Need Us by CasterCassette ( "You are a sheriff of Fazed Bear. A town that used to be the benchmark of progress, now is nothing more than a half-deserted crumbling ruin, where people go missing daily in mysterious circumstances. It's up to you to figure out this unsolvable mystery and save the rest of this wretched town. But can you even do it? After all, it's been too long since the first disappearances began." <- Author's description! Western Au! Sun and Moon are outlaws in this one! )

West of Fazbear's by PinkMushrooms ( "You're a lone adventurer, heading West across the desert to seek your fortune. Unfortunately, you don't quite make it there just yet. After falling off the back of the cart you were hitching a ride on, you end up stuck in a town called Boring Springs, looking for a way out of it. While there, you come across the oddest sight you've ever seen - a tall, lanky automaton dressed in bright colors, speaking like a real person. He introduces himself as Sun, and says he and his companion Moon want to travel further West too. You're inclined to say no to their request to travel with you - there's something off about the two, and neither will say why they're so anxious to get away from the East. But hey, when has something like self preservation ever stopped you before?" )

---

And now for the Merfolk AU fics!

Celestial Omens by bamsara ( LITERALLY IN LOVE WITH THIS ONE. Child!Reader saves two VERY odd-looking fish from certain death after they get trapped under a fishing net on the beach... And years later they return the favor... )

There Are Many Benefits (To Rethinking This Career Path) by moonliched ("Life is cushy, working on a subterranean research facility on an underexplored ocean planet. As the resident handyman, most of your work takes place underwater - lucky for you, cave diving is your passion. With the building between bi-annual research teams, and the next lot yet to arrive, you find yourself with an excess of free time. All you have to do is fulfil your weekly duties, prepare the facility for the next team of researchers, and relax. Oh, and track down the net that went missing some time ago. And then you find it. In a submerged cave. Trapping a mermaid. You really wish this wasn't your responsibility. (Moon thinks he should have listened to Sun and stuck to hunting in warmer waters. Why does this bizarre two-tailed mermaid keep coming at him with sharp instruments?)"

For in Safe Horizons ( prev title was The Horizon and the Little Star ) by horizonandstar ( "It was supposed to be a normal expedition like any other, but something goes wrong and the ship crash-lands. Now you’re stranded on an ocean planet with no way of going home. How long can you survive until you can call for help and leave this planet? For the first time in your life, you’re alone. As alone as one can be when two alien creatures follow you around, anyways." <- Borrowed directly from the Author's description! A really cool Subnautica/merfolk AU! Honestly one of my faves. )

Painted Rocks by cerebralfluids/cerebralfluid ( THIS ONE. GOD. I get so flustered by Moon in this one... Reader saves Sun from a group of angry sailors that planned to leave him on the beach to dry out... And ends up leaving with the sirens by taking their family boat on a little adventure... )

Call of the Abyss by Buligete ( "It was probably all very silly, considering the precarious situation I found myself in, but it really was all I could think about. Could you really blame me? I never expected to find myself in this kind of a mess. I was not some big shot, thrill seeking space explorer. I was no seasoned freight worker. No avid alien world survivalist. Not even a simple cruise liner flight attendant. I was a gardener. My feet belonged firmly planted in the soil of a garden world. I had spent my entire life up to now solidly anchored on Earth, and never dreaming of leaving the safety of gravity and atmosphere, despite the increasingly uncomfortable quality of life on the crowded homeworld. Sure, I dreamed of greener pastures. Of fresh air and fertile land. But frontier life and adventures in the big expanse of space? Not quite. A FNAF x Subnautica crossover, about the challenges of survival, surprise friendships with quirky software and alien merfolk, man made horrors beyond our comprehension and unexpected mysteries to be uncovered within the depths." )

Astro-Nautical by pterolem/echoingkarma ( PLOT TWIST: YOU'RE the merperson, and Sun & Moon are pirates! )

Song for a Siren by SolarRush ( Reader is working at the Faz Aquarium and Research Center, and discovers an abandoned exhibit and two mysterious mers... )

Off the Starboard Bow (and into your arms) by themarginalartist ( "Fazbier is a coast town on the Pacific Ocean you’re finally moving back to after your grandparents left you their home. You loved all the days of running down the sands to the water, collecting pretty shells and rocks, and indulging in the local legends of the sirens. But maybe those legends are a lot more real than you first thought…" <- I borrowed that description directly from the fic! REALLY interesting story and great characterizations of both Sun and Moon! Also has cool stuff like siren magic, etc. )

---

There's probably a few I forgot, but these are my absolute favorites at the moment!

[skepwith]

Parts of the Revenge

For Fic Writers and Fans of Our Flag Means Death

The historical Stede Bonnet’s Revenge was a sloop-of-war, one of the smaller types of men-of-war, or fighting ships. Unlike merchant ships, they carried multiple guns (i.e., cannons); merchant vessels were usually also armed, but not as heavily.

Basic Nautical Terms

fore: The front part of the ship.

aft: Towards the back.

bow: The frontmost part of the ship’s hull.

stern: The backmost part of the ship.

starboard: If you’re facing forward, this is the side of the ship on your right. If you’re facing aft, it will be on your left.

port: If you’re facing forward, the side on your left. If you’re facing aft, it’s on your right.

hull: The outer body of the ship. What you scrape barnacles off (assuming you’re not flirty enough to get out of the job).

Decks

The Revenge has four full decks. Plus there are several partial upper decks with weird names.

Main Deck

Also called the upper deck or upper gun deck. This is the deck where everything happens: flag-sewing, sleepovers, duels, fuckery, etc.

Forecastle (Fo’c’sle)

Pronounced, and sometimes spelled, fo’c’sle. The partial deck in the ship’s fore, from which Blackbeard swings off a rope to impress the crew. A few steps above the main deck.

Quarterdeck

You know the sweeping staircases Stede descends like he’s Ginger Rogers in an MGM musical? Those lead between the main deck and the quarterdeck. The quarterdeck was traditionally where the captain, and sometimes his officers, hung out and kept an eye on things; regular sailors weren’t allowed up there, except in the course of their duties. It’s also the location of the wheel, or helm, which steers the ship by turning its rudder.

Poop Deck

Named after the French word for stern; nothing to do with poop. Even higher than the quarterdeck, the poop deck is perched over the stern. Its height makes it a good place to make observations from. The handrail around the poop deck is called the taffrail.

Gun Deck

Also called the lower deck. This deck is under the main deck. You know how from the outside of the ship you can see cannons poking out from their little hidey-holes? Those are gun ports, and the guns (cannons) live along both sides of the gun deck. (The Revenge also has cannons on the main deck, which is why the main deck is sometimes called the upper gun deck.) In some ships, the crew would sleep on this deck, between the guns. In OFMD, this is the deck with the kitchen and the crew’s table, as well as the jam room and the rec room; you can see the gun ports in the hull.

Orlop

The deck under the gun deck. Where coils of rope and other equipment is stored. It’s below the ship’s waterline, so the stuff you store here has to be able to withstand some damp. Has a low ceiling. Historically, was often used as the ship’s surgery during battle. [ETA: Season 2 revealed that the Revenge has no orlop.]

Hold

The lowermost deck. Where supplies are stored and cargo, if there is any, is carried.

Masts

The masts are the big poles that hold up the sails. Different types of ships have different numbers of masts. The Revenge has three.

Foremast: Frontmost mast. Emerges through the fo’c’sle.

Mainmast: The one in the middle, coming through the main deck.

Mizzenmast, or mizzen: Aft mast. Comes through the quarterdeck.

There are about a million sails, each with its own name, and about a million ropes, ditto. I’m not covering any of that here, because life’s too short. Suffice it to say that the ropes, cables, and chains in general are called the rigging.

Other Parts of the Ship

Head

Generally speaking, the front of the ship. More specifically, the area in front of the fo’c’sle; also called the beakhead. Home of the figurehead (in this case a unicorn) and the bowsprit (the pole that sticks out in front of the ship). This is where Blackbeard throws Lucius overboard, which means Lucius has the whole length of the ship to be thrown a line by Fang and pulled back on board, which is totally what happened. The head is also where the crew’s toilet was located (head has since become synonymous with toilet.) The captain had his own toilet—sorry, en suite—in the stern, near his cabin. 

Tops

Sometimes called fighting-tops. The little platforms about a third of the way up each mast. Ed and Stede pull their lighthouse trick in the top on the mainmast, i.e., the maintop. This is also where they bond over quality marmalade.

Capstan

The big cylinder that sits on the main deck. The crew turns this to move ropes and cables for heavy work, like weighing (raising) the anchor or hoisting a foresail. Its wooden bars are removable when not in use. Fun historical fact: sailors often sang sea shanties while turning the capstan, to keep them all in rhythm, and if one of the crew had a musical instrument, like a fiddle, pipe, or drum, he might play it while sitting on top of the capstan.

Great cabin

The biggest cabin on the ship, usually the captain’s quarters. Often had a row of windows facing aft and a library.

Everything I know about ships I learned from Patrick O’Brian and Wikipedia. If you see any errors, please let me know.

More Parts of the Revenge