#pirate captain! hobie

[the-kr8tor]

Sink or Swim

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Total Word Count: 16k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), Hobie is mentioned taller than R, CW food mentions, CW suggestive, TW blood, CW injury, CW miscarriage mention, TW violence.

A/N: I've divided this chapter into two because of how long it is and tumblr wouldn't let me draft the post without the app crashing. So sorry for the inconvenience. I'll put the link at the end and on top.

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

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CHAPTER 13 >>> CHAPTER 13 II

Hobie's throat feels like he swallowed glass. Yet, he screams until his lungs give out, until his body gives out. Fist pounding into steel, skin splitting, blood staining the metal, he continues to call for you. His ears could only hear your frantic yells, his name falling out of your lips, vomited out desperately, asking for him, calling for him to get you out.

He kicks and thrashes at the metal bars, his mind imagines the worst— nails ripped from your fingers, bones breaking, skin scraped and slashed. He doesn't need to imagine how it could feel for he had lived through it all, survived through sheer will alone. But he promised, he promised to you and in that hollow grave that it will never be filled with your body; that your own blood wouldn't spill in between his fingers.

Yet, like the knife that he is, like the one who breaks skin and bleeds everything he touches— he hurt you, shot you where you stood, when he should've protected you, shielded you from the bullet. But how could he do it when the bullet is from him? When he used the same weapon that has ended dozens of lives to protect his crew, to harm you; the only person he deems worthy of telling all his secrets, you, who is worth more than every single treasure in the world.

Maybe he should've listened to you and stayed on the island.

Hobie calls for you once again, in hopes that you hear him too, in hopes that his voice is enough to bring you hope. The lighthouse that guides you home. But he knows, he knows all you could hear are muffled sounds and the creaking from the rocking ship.

Your voice wavers, like you've been forcefully silenced. So he does the screaming for you. It's loud, tone furious, ready to scratch at anyone who gets closer.

“Hobie—” Gwen tries to get his attention as the door opens, revealing the two guards staying in the doorway, keeping their distance.

Guns are strapped to them, knives glinting in the lamp light, armed to the teeth. Hobie knows it's all for him.

“Shut the fuck up.” One frustratingly said, teeth clenched, hands kneading at his temples.

“Keep screaming and you won't get supper.” The bigger one utters, the large scar on his cheek tightens as Hobie taunts them with a grim smile. The smile he reserves to strike fear.

They stiffen in the doorway, shoulders straight, hands reaching for their weapons.

“Do it then.” Hobie says, voice guttural, hands gripping the bars. “End the screaming.” His sheer tone alone sends everyone's hair to stand upright.

No one in the crew dares to stop Hobie. He doesn't know if they're afraid just like the men in front of him or if they're biding their time to scratch and bite too.

“Come closer and end it.” He doesn't yell, and that terrifies the men in the doorway. “And you'll find out exactly what I did to Admiral Kinney all those years ago.” He can still taste the admiral's ichor on his tongue.

The hulking men share a look, sweat dripping off their brows. And with that, they shut the door behind them, returning to their post with their tails tucked between their legs.

“Cowards.”

If it wasn't a grim situation, James would've laughed.

Hobie hears Gwen sigh behind him, the liquid in her hand sloshes as she practically shoves it in his face.

“At least drink some water. For your throat.”

“No, ‘m not drinking that slop.”

Gwen has had enough, she takes him by the collar, eyes bravely glaring at her captain. “If you want to leave this ship and save her, then drink the slop, eat the fucking bread and keep your goddamn energy for when we get the window to escape. Screaming won't help, captain. It's not helping anyone.” Her jaw is set, eyebrows knitted together.

The rest of the crew stand on the side, ready to get between them if it gets physical. He'll never hurt Gwen, never even thought of it. But he can't stand the thought of his family standing against him rather than next to him. So he fixes it, you'd like it that way.

Hobie gingerly takes the cup, chugging it down in one gulp.

“Good, now eat some bread and sit down.”

“Y/N—” he starts.

“She'll be alright, she's a fighter ain't she?” He nods, “you know her better than us, so tell us, cap'n, that she will survive this.”

He roams his red eyes at his sparse crew. For a brief second he sees the ones he lost behind them. For the first time, he's glad he doesn't see you with them.

Returning his attention towards Gwen, he utters the words with the confidence of a captain.

“She'll survive this.”

—

Sitting down in the corner, he rests his poor throat, the dry bread didn't help much. It was shitty to say the least, times like this, he misses Finn. He'd beat him if he ever knew that he let the famous bloodsail pirates into the hands of a former admiral and you into the hands of someone you fear the most.

Hobie shuts his eyes for a second, he swears it's only for a second but when he wakes up with a start and the door opening with a creak, the moon is already shining outside the large boat.

When he sees you appear by the doorway, he thinks he's still dreaming.

“Ten,” He hears you say between gritted teeth. All he could focus on is you, checking for signs of an injury, he starts from your head—nothing, arms, also nothing, save for a few scratches. Then he settles on your bandaged leg, and he remembers what he did, what he did to you. Guilt and grief overtakes his body, he tries his best to hide into the background, into the wooden walls, to become part of the ship, to hide his shame. Because he hurt you, and he'll never forgive himself for what he did.

Hobie watches from his corner, defeated when you tell him subtly that you're alright. And when you called for him, called his name softly like summer wind breezing by, warm and reminding him of home— he couldn't help but oblige.

Who is he to deny the sky?

When you held him in your hands, he felt anew. Apologies spill from his mouth, eyes forlorn at the red spot on your bandages.

What is the tides without his moon?

He feels lighter when you forgive him. But his past action still haunts him, he knows it'll join the long line of nightmares that plague him at night.

“That's my girl.” He says truthfully and proudly, he feels your heartbeat hasten through your pulse.

You tell him your choice, your decision to give up your freedom for him and the crew. He feels like he was back on the revenge, facing Mathias, refusing to let you go as you offer yourself for their freedom.

His heart beats harder as you ask him to read your mother's letter. He's unsure why you would let someone like him read something as heavy as the letter. It's reserved for someone whose hands wouldn't stain the paper with crimson.

“Because I trust you.” You say, and everything aligns in his mind. Like Poseidon shaking him inside out, like the tides itself is splitting him open.

Hobie reads it with trembling hands and broken skin. Like he thought, it turns the paper pink like ink blots dirtying the pristine paper.

He dictates it, heart shattering at every tear you let out. Wiping your cheeks dry, he's careful not to let his split skin touch your softer ones.

“It's real, innit?” He asks like the earth isn't eating him whole.

“It's real.” You answer and the world caves in around him.

Hobie teases to feel the resemblance of normalcy, “little tomato?” He asks.

And you answer with a “I don't want them, just you.” Like you didn't just mend his shattering heart with one sentence. And you break it right after with a “We'll meet again, in this life or the next.”

He's terrified once again. He shakes his head as the door creaks open. “No, Y/N—”

As you kiss his wounded knuckles gently, you ask him something he can't possibly do.

“Don't follow me, please.”

Reaching for you, he should've read the last line in the letter to you. ‘Don't trust anyone’ it said, whatever it was, it's not your burden to carry, so he'll do it for you.

Hobie apologizes in his head for keeping it away from you and for what he's about to do.

—

With the dinner bell ringing, and heavy footsteps retreating, the crew takes their chance. The key opens the door smoothly. They sneak around the ship, only leaving shadows and footfalls that's barely audible.

Climbing up the steps towards freedom, Hobie spots a door at the end of a hallway. Like two hearts beating as one, he knows it's you behind it.

Miles takes his arm before he could come to you. “Don't.” He whispers to his captain. “Don't waste her sacrifice.”

“She didn't sacrifice herself.” Hobie shakes his head, scoffing quietly. “I can't leave her behind, Miles. I can't.”

“I know,” he pulls him away from the hallway. “she asked you to not follow, so don't follow.”

“If this was Gwen—”

“If this was Gwen we'd be doing the exact same thing. She wouldn't ask us to follow and we'll leave because she asked us to.” Miles spares a heavy glance towards your locked door. “I know it hurts, but we'd be in the gallows by morning if we don't leave now. We'll have another chance at saving her.”

“You don't know that.”

“I don't, but it's better to not know instead of being dead. At least we'd have a chance.” Miles tugs him further away. “Do you think it's better for her to think that she caused our deaths just because you took the chance?” His voice is determined.

“Don't hurt her like that, Hobie. It'll ruin her.”

With one last look towards your door, Hobie nods, following the others to the deck then to safety. As the dinghy drops down into the sea, and into the dark night, he hears Miguel curse his name.

He asks for your forgiveness silently.

—

Hobie and the crew finally make it to the docks without being seen by anyone. It was pure luck that no one saw or even heard them, he thanked the early morning and the still dark sky for lending them a hand.

“We need to wait for her.” He says, stretching his stiff hands from rowing the boat.

The sparse pirate crew hides in the shadows, hidden behind the dark alleyway. They lean on the grimy walls, hands cradling their fatigued heads, huffing and groaning at the aches and pains they had from their daring escape. They can still hear Miguel cursing Hobie's name, his voice ringing in their ears.

“Hobie,” Gwen calls for him. “Leave her be.”

“What the fuck?” Hobie turns sharply. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means we leave her alone.” Pavitr says forlornly, eyes downcast at the dirty pavement.

“We promised her—”

“That was when we didn't know it was her actual family. Back when we all thought Miguel was a threat to her.” Yuri pipes up, hands braced on her knees. Fatigued and clearly needing rest. “I love her, Hobie, I really do. We all love her, but she's with family now. Let her be.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Miles scoffs, “We're talking about the same person right?” He stands next to Hobie, arms crossed on his chest.

“C’mon, Miles,” Gwen says tiredly. “We all heard their conversation, it's real, she's noble—”

“And what of it?” Hobie snaps back. “You were too.”

“I was.” She scowls. “But she has a home to go to, a family that's waiting for her. We need to let her be until for whatever reason she decides to stay or leave with us.” Inhaling sharply, she rubs harshly at her eyes. “Let's make a compromise then. We're all clearly feeling conflicted. I don't want to fully let her go, we all agree right?”

Everyone nods, tension running high, glares thrown about the small group. Gwen continues, “Then we stay close to her, we watch her like when we used to observe potential crew members. But this time we make sure she is actually safe and not thrown to the wolves.” Her idea reminds Hobie why he chose her as his first mate.

“I'll keep first watch,” Hobie quickly says, "we switch after I say so.”

“And when will that be, Hobie?” Yuri clasps her hand on Hobie's shoulder, comforting the man. “You haven't slept a wink, add the fact that you were stranded on a bloody island for a month, you're not in the right state for this.”

“I'll be once I see that she's safe.” His voice cracks, “I didn't keep an eye on MJ and look what happened. I-I don't want that to happen again. Please let me do it. You can follow me all you want just let me keep watch—”

“It's Y/N,” James whisper yells, he peeks around the alley, watching you slowly walk down the ship.

They all clammer to see you ignore Miguel's helping hand. Pride swells in their chest, they remember now why they can't exactly leave you behind— you're family.

As if fate is pulling the strings, you crane your neck to look in their direction. The crew ducks away, but Hobie stays, staring at you, waiting for your signal, anything to indicate that you want to run away with them.

He sees your subtle shake of your head, and with that, he hides with his crew.

“Did she say something?” Pav asks, concerned for you.

“No, nothin’” He holds his heart in his hand. “She said nothin'”

—

Hobie follows you quietly throughout the day. Hiding from Miguel's watchful eyes and your sad eyes. The crew left to rest in an inn, Miles offered to come with him, Hobie's glad he did for he found an unhitched horse in a street corner. But it could only seat one so Miles, the angel that he is, let Hobie go on without him.

“I'll take care of them.” He promises before he lets his captain go.

They all know your house, they've raided their ships before. Crates upon crates full of luxury, with the same design on your necklace stamped on the wooden sides. Hobie knows them quite well, the favourite of the king, always giving them special treatment. Yet the queen holds them at an arm's length away, but she never left her eyes away from their business. He guessed sacking random ships has its perks, gossip is one of them.

Hobie silently trots his horse, eyes never leaving the carriage you just left. The cemetery sends his nerves alight, with the crows cawing in the background, he strains his ear to listen in. He's hiding behind the chapel, the irony doesn't escape him.

The truth is revealed to you, and unbeknownst to you, he has learned about it too. His head is in his hands as he listens to how broken your voice is, tone splitting at the seams. Then his heart stops when you tell your mother that you want to stay, that you want to find the person responsible for their deaths, that the same flames burning inside him now have spread to you.

Hobie doesn't want you to go down the same path he walked on, to let the embers singe your skin, to let the fire burn you from the inside out like it had with him. You helped him through his, helped him control it. Now it's his turn to do so for you.

He cares for you, loves you for all your soft touches and gentle tone. But he's prepared to love you through your jagged edges, through all the anger that's inside you. He'd love both sides of you, because it's you, and no one else.

His foot accidentally steps on a twig as he sees you leave. Hobie almost ran towards you when you looked at the source of the sound. This time he ducks away, knowing that there's eyes on you, eyes that are prepared to take you away the moment they see him. So he waits, until there's no more eyes on you.

The next time he saw you again was when you stepped out of the carriage and into the golden doors of the palace. He's terrified for what's to come, whether or not Miguel has brought you on a silver platter for the wolves to devour.

With his guns accompanying him, he readies outside the walls of the palace until you leave, until he sees you again climbing inside the carriage.

He can finally breathe again, he doesn't have to kill this time. Not yet anyway.

Hobie tries his best to stay hidden, he bribes and lies to get inside Hazelside. Then he waits, and bides his time just to talk to you.

—

“Hazelside estate,” Miguel says when the large manor looms over the horizon. “Your family has owned it for two hundred years. Passed down to every first born child of the family.”

Acres and acres of land stretch across the vast space. Primed apple trees and oaks line the road, men and women in work clothes walk near the carriage, not even craning their necks to take a peek inside. It seems this was a daily occurrence for them.

“Two hundred years.” You repeat, contemplating how many generations owned it. “So it's mine once the papers are signed? Where would my…uncle and aunt go then?” Your mind goes through a hundred scenarios where you stay and where you decide to leave it all again.

“They have their own house. Granted it's not as big as Hazelside but it's enough for them. Knowing his majesty, he'd take his sweet time from releasing the papers.”

“How well do you know the king and queen?” You ask, eyes scanning your family's land.

Stone houses are standing miles away from the main estate, employees of the house you think. Chimneys billow out smoke whilst the sun is just about to rise. You imagine them having breakfast with their families, sleep still clinging in their lashes, hot tea wrapped in their cool hands. Opening the window, the smell of fresh apples wafts over you. Home, you think. It smells like home. Or it just reminds you of the apple tarts Jessica made for you when you were younger.

“You alright?” Miguel asks, watching you frown.

“I'm fine, just tired.” You lied, in truth, you miss them all.

“You had a hectic day, I don't blame you. You'll get to rest soon, I promise.”

How could you even think of sleeping alone? After being near him? After saying goodbye?

“You didn't answer my question.” You shift your attention from the trees to the man before you. “How well do you know them?”

“I barely know the queen, but the king? Yes, short answer? He's a moron, a buffoon wearing a crown.”

Lyla snickers next to you, head plopped on the carriage wall, seemingly asleep.

You smile, “You have a monkey for a king.”

“Once you're the Hazelside duchess, he'll be your king too.”

“Christ.” You chuckle nervously.

“Don't worry, I'll help you get accustomed to polite society.” Miguel reassures you and you still have no idea if you'll stay long enough to bear the title.

“Polite society.” You say with a scoff, “What I just saw wasn't very polite.”

“Just remember, everything here is political. Everyone here is climbing the ladder, kissing the royal asses. Some are doing it for their families, some are doing it for their personal gain.”

“Which one do you think I am?”

“Neither.” The carriage stops, horses neighing, hooves stomping on the gravel. “You're not like them, Y/N, that's why you'll end up walking all over them.”

The footman opens the door, Miguel gives you a look before coming down the small steps. He reaches towards you, helping you down. You hesitate. You still don't take his hand even with your bad leg.

The wind blows cold, goosebumps appearing on your skin, face worried at the sheer size of the manor. The glinting silvered birds catch the early morning's sun's rays. Beady eyes seemingly blinking when a cloud passes by.

Vines cling to the ancient walls, small purple flowers run along the plant and along the large windows. Strong columns line the façade, laurels carved on the marble, oak doors displaying the house sigil— your necklace bearing a similarity to it. Flower beds cradling violets lay by the foot of the building, blooming and fragrant. The smell hiding your trepidation from the dozen or so people watching you with unreadable eyes.

The staff greets you with a stiff nod, they stand on the stairs leading towards the manor. Their uniforms are perfect, perfectly ironed and clean; perfect white gloves on their hands.

A couple of them help your drunk uncle off their own carriage. He groans, head swirling, eyes rolling to the back of his head. Fancy clothes sweaty and moist, neckerchief lopsided and dirtied by ale. In contrast to his wife, who looks tired with the heavy eye bags under her eyes, she still looks like a proper noble compared to Frederick.

“Freddy—” She groans, kicking her husband's leg, “get up!”

“Darling…” he slurs, “there's two of you—oh wait…now there's three!” His guffaw fills the quiet morning.

Victoria gives up, leaving the man to the care of her staff. She walks off, huffing and puffing. She gives you a glance, “what are you waiting for? Get inside.”

Her eyes flick to Miguel who stands behind you, she immediately clamps down her bitterness. “Welcome to Hazelside, niece.” With a stomp of her heeled foot, she heads inside, no doubt seething.

“Catty.” Lyla says next to you, elbowing your side. “C’mon, your grace, before the sun gets in their eyes and sends them into a murderous frenzy.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. Something flickers in your peripheral vision, when you move your head to look, whatever it was, it's already gone behind the thick bushes.

“Y/N?” Miguel beckons you over. “It's cold out, come inside before you get sick.”

“Coming,” you call back, eyes darting around the thicket.

—

Miguel shows you around to your room in the west wing. Various historical paintings decorate the walls, wooden simple frames around them, showing the true beauty of the art without all the extravagant gold laurels around it.

Sculpted busts of your ancestors wait at every corner, marble eyes staring blankly at what's in front of them. Large windows line the walls, just outside the glass lies an expansive field of apple trees, bulbs of reds and greens adorning the branches of the mighty orchard. You stand in awe at the sight, workers start flocking the trees, picking and plucking at the ripest of fruits. The sun shines directly at the field, apples aglow with its light like red and green stars.

You lag behind Miguel as you gawp at the scenery, hand tucked inside the pocket of your gown, mindlessly rolling the pearl. Wishing the crew could see it too, wishing that he could see it and harvest the fruits with you.

Miguel calls for you, hand reaching but he retracts it back to his side. “Apples are new around here.” You genuinely smile at him, so he continues. “It used to just be hazelnuts, which still grow plenty in the estate.”

“Why the change then?”

“They didn't change, your family merely adapted. Your grandmother was the one who started planting the apple trees. Whenever she had a—” Miguel falters, you can practically see his brain turning.

“Had a what? I'm a big girl, Miguel, I can handle whatever it is.” You encourage him with a nod.

“A miscarriage,” he says lowly, “At the end of her life she planted seven trees. There was only one seed she didn't plant and that was when your mother was born.”

Your heart aches at the story even though the people in it are practically strangers to you. “Apple of her eye.” You murmur.

Miguel chuckles, turning to watch the vast orchard that spans acres upon acres of land. “It’s an understatement. She was spoiled, your mother. But she had a heart, most of her gifts almost always ‘gets lost’ somewhere.” He smiles fondly. “Strangely enough, it always ends up with someone who would benefit from it more.”

“Which one ended up getting lost in your backyard?” You smile at his rare grin.

“A lot, pocket watches, jeweled eggs, there was a kitten once. Only because her mother didn't like it.” He sighs, hazel eyes shining under the sunlight.

“You loved her.”

“I did,” he stares at you with kinder eyes. “She was my best friend, and so was your father. They both were.”

“What did you mean back at the carriage when you told me that they did the same to you?”

He swallows thickly, staring back at the outside of the opulent manor. “My daughter, Gabriella.” he says after a moment, “She was only a few years older than you. Your parents were her godparents, this was before they eloped and had you.” You can feel the strain in his voice. “She got sick…they poured everything into giving her the best doctors the country has to offer. They were at her side while I was drowning my sorrows in the navy. When they weren't by her side, they were with me. But in the end everything was all in vain.”

“I'm sorry,” you say genuinely, “I'm sorry, Miguel.”

He gives you a tight smile and a pat on your shoulder. “Even after all that they were still by my side, even when I pushed them away.” Sniffing, he subtly wipes his eye. “I didn't cross the sea and traveled thousands of miles to find you because I want us to be even. Or to pay the debt, I just wanted to find the last thing they left in hopes that I also find them in you.” His chest heaves. “I couldn't even say goodbye to them.”

There's tears in your eyes as he chokes on his own words. “I lost my friends but you lost your family before you could even meet them. And for that, I'm sorry, Y/N.” His hand shakes. “They didn't deserve what happened to them.”

“Tell me what happened to them.” You stand toe to toe with him, determined to get answers.

“Pirates, I told you they were pirates.”

You shake your head. “Do you really believe that, O’Hara? Or are you still trying to convince yourself otherwise?”

His jaw clenches, “It was pirates, Y/N.”

“Tell that to the former navy medic I call mother.”

He whispers, “the last time I looked further into their deaths I lost my Job, stripped of all my titles. I almost lost my house because of it.”

“Then tell me what you found.” You challenge him back. “Tell me who ordered it so I can live in this house in peace.”

“I don't have definitive proof—”

“Who?”

“Edward.” He says through gritted teeth. “He wanted to marry your mother, even going as far to ask for her hand. But when she refused him for your father—” he heaves. “I think he has probable cause to order the attack.”

“You were answering the man who might've killed my parents and wanted me dead?”

“How do you think that makes me feel, hm? I had my full trust in the navy, trusting the report they gave, trusted them with my whole life, even dedicating my life to them. And the moment I get a whiff of a planned murder on the only family I've ever had they bar me from the only life I've ever known. How do you think that made me feel?”

“I'm sorry you went through that but you could've done something.”

“He is king!” Miguel's voice booms around the hallway. He shifts his voice, pinching his knitted brows. “His word is law, I couldn't have done anything, even if I had proof.”

“You should've started with that instead of telling me lies, then I would've come to you without a fight.”

“There would've still been a fight.” He states matter of factly. “Hobie was ready to fight the moment I stepped below deck.”

“Could you blame him though? We both know not every single pirate crew is as nice as them, he didn't attack because you claimed it was pirates. Or that he was offended, he knows that he has done unsavoury things too. So what did you say that made him lunge at you?”

Miguel shakes his head, refusing to say anything. “It's best that you don't remember it.”

“Fine, be like that, just know that there will always be a wall between us.” Your heels clack loudly against the oak floors as you leave him behind.

—

The room they gave you was surprisingly comfortable, unlike the apartments in the palace that you explored. It's ten times bigger than the inn you were in, complete with your own bathroom and sitting room. It's all wooden walls covered in beautiful tapestries of various scenes from history— the thick cloth helps keep the heat inside. All the windows are wide open to let the cool air in and the moonlight. So you could hear the rustling of the trees outside, so you could smell the crisp apples. It helps, you think as you sit in front of the large stone fireplace with birds engraved in every corner of the stone.

You're already sick of the bloody birds.

You wrap the fur blanket closer to your body, still in your gown, refusing to wear anything else they've provided for you. You've heard of poisoned dresses before, it's far-fetched but you can't risk it now that you're in a more unfamiliar territory where your own family holds a grudge against you just for existing.

Especially now that you're alone in a large room filled with strange things. And with only his dagger to keep you safe.

Anyone would kill to be in your shoes right now, to be pampered and placed in a household that can provide for all your needs. If it weren't for the hunger in you, you would've left all of the gold in this house just to get back to them. Instead, the fire has you in its hold too.

Miguel's information only fueled the glowing embers in you, you're determined to find who killed them. But you're still restrained in this large manor, and until you can get your answers, you say their names to satiate the hunger.

“Edward and Mathias.” You say through shuddered breath, feeling if you could just say it louder, the sky would strike them down where they stood.

The pearl in your hands is warm, the shiny surface reflecting your scowl.

The flames mesmerize you as it dances in the kindling. Orange and reds illuminate your face, it's the only light in the whole room. You exhale and a puff of clouds escape your cool lips.

It's getting colder, and you're missing him.

Just when you're about to stand up to close the windows, a pebble lands near you. It thuds on the wooden floors, the sound gets your attention.

“What the hell?” You say confused. Standing back up, another flies through the open windows and into your room. “Who the fuck?” Speed walking towards the window, you almost get hit by a pebble if you didn't dodge it in time. “Hey!”

Fifteen feet below your window, you see two people dressed in their night clothes, bundled up in fur coats. They look up at you with wide eyes, like they got caught with their hands inside the cookie jar.

“Cousin!” One exclaims, a wide apologetic smile on his lips, showing you his perfect teeth. “Sorry about that! Can you come down?”

“Who in the world are you?” You ask, confused, you lean down to take a better look, hands gripping the sill for support.

“We're your cousins! I guess?” The girl next to him says, eyes shining in the moonlight, hand holding another pebble. “We waited to see you during supper and around the house but you were apparently hiding!”

“Alright, why do I need to come down then?”

“Because we want to properly introduce ourselves! Without screaming at you from below that is.” The girl shrugs, smiling prettily at you. “Please, cousin?”

“...fine.” you grumble, the dagger is still hidden underneath your skirt in case they're planning something nefarious.

They beam up at you, the girl daintily claps her hands. “Brilliant! We'll be waiting at the entrance.”

As you trudge down the unfamiliar sprawling halls, trying your hardest to not get lost in the maze-like structure. You accidentally encounter another painting of your mother.

Her name is etched on a golden plaque just below the portrait. This one was different from the one in the palace, she was stiff there, lips tightly closed into a line, eyes cold and empty. The one in front of you is warm, a soft smile on her lips, eyes shining and alive. Her dress is in lilac, golden stars adorning the bodice. She still wore the same necklace you're currently wearing, it rests perfectly on her neck. In her hand is a closed locket, you wonder whose portrait lies inside.

“Hi, mum.” You whisper into the cold hallway. “Where's dad's portrait?” You ask like she would open her mouth and answer back. With a sigh, you head downstairs.

Walking the ancient floors, the moon shines down at you, the light peeking in from the gaps of the heavy curtains. Silently, you meet with your cousins in the foyer. Carefully coming down the curved staircase, hand gripping the bannister, the boy who is about the same age as Miles meets you halfway. He reaches towards you, giving you a hand.

“I heard about your leg, I thought you'd appreciate some help.”

“You're Frederick's children?” You say, questioning whether or not you should take his hand.

“We are,” he says with a sigh. “Come on, cousin, or you might miss it.”

“Miss what?”

“The birds.” The girl waiting in the foyer excitedly says. “They're migrating.”

“Oh, I don't see why that would be so interesting.” You say as the boy flexes his fingers, beckoning you down.

“You’ll see why. Take my hand please, you look like our grandmother going down the steps.”

“Fine,” with an exhale, you take his hand. You hold his hand, a feather light touch that he barely feels, giving yourself enough time to react if he decides to do something.

“I'm Jonathan, or just John.” He says as he gently leads you down the steps. His stride is slow, waiting for your own feet to keep up. “And this is my sister—”

“Collette!” She suddenly clasps your hands when you reach the last step. “Sorry–” her tone is sweet and genuine, quickly removing her hands from yours. “I got too excited! I'm Collette, my brother and I are twins.”

“Unfortunately…” John says under his breath.

Collette jabs her elbow by his side, earning a groan from him. You see the similarities on their faces now that you're closer to them. From the slope of their noses to the curls of their hair, they look very much alike. Except for their eyes, Collette has emerald eyes that shimmer from the oil lamp she carries. While her brother has brilliant blue eyes that remind you of the sea when the sun shines above it.

You get reminded of him again.

“Who's older?” You ask teasingly, pushing the previous thought away.

“I am!” They both speak at the same time. John looks at her sister with disappointment, while Collette scrunches her nose.

“I'm five minutes older than you, Jojo.” She says with a tone you could only describe as annoyed.

“Father told me I'm the one who's five minutes older. Not you!”

“Sure,” she nods sarcastically, the lamp in her hand sways. “Because father was in the room when we were born.” Her head swivels to look at you, and you almost jump at how fast she moved. “He wasn't in the room.”

“Ah, I think I got it—”

“Like you could bloody remember.” John says with a scoff.

Before the argument could go on, you stop them with your hands on each of their shoulders.

“I need to sleep, so whatever you want to show me, just fucking show me.”

Collette stares at you with a gasp, eyes wide like you just said the darndest thing. Meanwhile, John has the biggest grin you've ever seen.

“Wow, cousin.” He says, amused. “I heard you used to run with pirates but I didn't know you got their vocabulary too. Hazelside would be more interesting now that you're here.”

“Gosh,” Collette exhales, clutching her pearls (literally) “I didn't know that word could be uttered by a woman.”

“You should try it sometimes. It's very freeing.” You chuckle at their reaction whilst you make your way outside. “Before we freeze to death, cousins?”

“The oldest should lead the way.” John takes the opportunity to rag on his still bewildered sister.

She groans audibly. “You're not the one with the lamp.”

You smile, there's a warm familiar feeling in your chest.

—

Leaves crunch under your bare foot, you've got blisters from the uncomfortable heels Miguel gave you. You'd take walking on bare feet rather than wear that torture device ever again. The only plus side of the fancy shoe is that it makes you feel powerful with every click of the heels. Walking along a path, tall apple trees carve a way for you and the twins.

“I like your dress.” Collette says right next to you, you sense her wariness by how she keeps her distance. “The color is beautiful, it's our house color.”

“Thank you, but I've been told that red suits me better.”

“Oh, I think they're right actually.” She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Yeah, I'm slowly getting used to this one though.” You lift up your skirt a bit for emphasis.

“Is it true that you were shot?” John asks in front of you, looking over his shoulder. “We heard from the footmen that you were shot by a pirate when O’Hara rescued you.”

“I was, but that's not the whole story. Miguel didn't rescue me.”

“Really?” Collette's brows are raised in question and surprise. You nod at her question. “Huh, I told you we shouldn't listen to gossip.” She slaps her brother on his bicep, he winces, glaring at her. “It's bad to begin with.”

“That's the thing about gossip, Co, it's not always the truth.” He spits out.

“I knew that, pssh.” She crosses her arms on her chest, annoyed and embarrassed.

“Why are we out here again? If you're planning to ambush me—” Colette gasps loudly, like you've shot her.

“Ambush you? Do we look like we know how to fight?” She stops you from going further down the path just as you see a dark river at the end of it.

John knits his brows with a pout. “We're here to give you a warm welcome, cousin. We heard mother and father didn't even give you a tour, so I guess it falls on us to show you around.”

“At night though?” You gesture around the silence of the grounds, save for a few crickets chirping and the flowing of the lake, you're practically alone in the dark.

“Guess we're just living to our house motto, ‘carpe noctem—’”

“‘Seize the night’” Collette finishes her brother's sentence. “The ancestor who established our house was a gambler.” She shrugs.

“That's our house motto?”

“Nope!” Collette answers you. “It was our house motto.” She gestures to herself and her brother. “Before the crown granted us Hazelside, after—” John elbows her. “I'm sorry.”

“It's alright, what's the actual motto?”

“‘alis volat propriis—’”

“‘She flies with her own wings.’” You translate, the siblings look at you with awe. “There's latin in medicine.”

“You know medicine?!” Collette shrieks, the sound echoing through the dark.

“Brilliant.” John murmurs.

“Oh you must tell us more!” Collette loops her arm around yours, walking side by side. “How and where did you learn it?”

“I—”

“Don't pester her, Co.” John clicks his tongue, “have you cut anyone's arm off?”

“How grim!” She exclaims.

As they lead you towards the sparkling lake, you three chat through the night by the banks of the hazelside lake. They ask about the world outside the capital, they ask about the sea and the pirates you were with. You don't tell them about all the blood and violence, deciding that you shouldn't mar their innocent hearts with stories of death. It's not yours to tell, and you don't want to traumatize the only people who don't look at you with contempt.

“So you're not mad at me or even at least a bit annoyed for showing up and taking the estate from your parents?” You ask whilst the sun slowly rises, bathing the lake in bright blue. The hazelnuts in your mouth is a welcome one since you haven't eaten a single bite since you got to the capital.

“Not really.” John munches on his own pile of hazelnuts. He lounges near the water, hand cradling his head, chewing quietly. “We were surprised at first because there have been a handful of girls who claimed to be you. Who were obviously not you.” You raise an eyebrow at his statement. “But when they told us it was Miguel who found you, we were sure it was really you.”

“Wait— there were people who claimed to be me?”

“Mm-hmm.” Collette hums, sitting close to you, hanging on to every word you utter. “They weren't very convincing.”

“The story of Miguel trying to find you was pretty famous around here. I mean, the guy abandoned his post to find a missing duchess who may or may not be alive. That was a big story back then, so a lot of women threw their daughters and young relatives at the manor's gates to get a chance.” John informs you.

“We were quite young back then, but the fakes dwindled away through the years.” Collette finishes his statement.

“‘Quite young’ she says,” he scoffs, “we were barely out of the womb, Collette.” His sister sticks out her tongue at John.

“Huh, that's probably why I haven't heard of it either, I was still young.” You wonder.

“The sun's almost out!” Collette points at the clear sky. “Get ready, cousin, because you're about to see the most gorgeous thing.”

“The birds here migrate at this time of year,” John helps you both up to your feet. You surprisingly take his hand. “like clockwork. Collette and I used to watch it with our parents before they got all…well, too much. Now it's some sort of tradition for us.”

“Look look! The trees are rustling!” She points, jumping up and down.

“Any minute now.” John smiles at his sister as she half hugs him.

The three of you wait for a sign of the birds, a minute passes, then two, then five. Yet, not even a feather flies overhead. The early morning sun shines brighter with every minute that passes. And with every minute, the twins grew agitated.

“Why aren't they coming out?” Collette asks sadly.

“I'm sure they're just getting ready for the journey.” John reassures his sister with a pat on her shoulder. “My calculations are correct, why aren't they here yet?” He questions no one.

Their slumped shoulders and frowns get to you. An idea pops in your head, and you think it's all Hobie's fault.

“Maybe they're still sleeping.” They look at you simultaneously, “I mean it's really cold out, they probably wanted to stay in bed— or nest to sleep more. I know I would want to.”

“Oh,” Collette gives you a small smile at your attempt to make them feel better. “That's probably it. Thank you, cousin.”

You grin mischievously at them, “what if we wake them all up?”

John makes a face. “How?”

You inhale, putting your hands around your mouth, you scream, “wake the fuck up!” The sound echoed throughout the field and across the lake.

Your cousins let out a loud guffaw, you giggle at their reaction. John joins in, copying your actions.

“Wake up you wankers!” He yells, exhilaration filling his chest. “I've always wanted to say that.” Chuckling, he laughs louder at the face his sister is making.

“Johnathan!” His sister gasps next to him.

“What? Try it out! Come on then! No one's out here to tell us off.” John shakes her shoulder, giving you a wide grin.

“Join us in the dark side, Collette.” You sing song, “the birds need a wake up call.”

“You won't tell mother and father?” She asks the both of you. Wiggling, she’s excited.

Crossing your heart, you promise. “I won't, I'm not a tattletale.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die, Co.”

“Alright.” She exhales deeply before letting loud the loudest scream you've ever heard. “Wake up, cocksuckers!” It's so loud that you swear your eardrums are blown out. Smiling, she turns towards your surprised forms.

Now it's you and John's turn to gasp.

“Cocksucker?!” You exclaim, bewildered.

“Where'd you learn that, Co?!” John pokes his sister.

“I heard it when Mrs. Williams stubbed her toe during lessons.” She said shyly.

“Good on you, sis.” He pats her back. “Good on you.”

Collette looks at you expectantly. “Good show, Co.” You wink at her and she giggles happily.

Facing towards the thick trees across the lake, the birds still don't fly overhead. There's nothing but the wind rustling the branches.

“They didn't wake up though.” She says forlornly.

“What if we do it at the same time?” Your words have them smiling again.

“Yes!” They say simultaneously.

“Ready?” They both nod, taking in air before screaming their hearts out.

“Cocksuckers!” The three of you let out simultaneously. The canopy rustles and out comes a hundred or so birds from the thicket.

You all jump up and down, arms up in greeting the birds. Their feathers shine in the sun, light filtering through their wings. Iridescent blues and whites glowing, reflecting in your eyes. Wings flapping loudly, beaks held up high as they greet the sky with open wings.

Amidst the beauty of it all, you wish that he was there to witness it.

A tear slides down your cheek. You wipe it quickly before the twins notice. Head staring up at the sky, amidst all the beauty and light, there's a darkness swirling inside you. Amidst all the life around you, you feel the opposite. And you miss him. The worst part is, you see this place becoming your home.

>>> CHAPTER 13 II

[rexlroze]

Character: Hobart Larry Brown🙄 (Hobie Brown.

Pirate AU - Time: 9hrs 46mins

@the-kr8tor Ayy, this is my peace offering for maybe a... good ending? 😖

But anyways, ya better like it kay-kay! :D Had a lotta fun(and rage) while makin' this, I wanted to add more but I didn't know where so I just was like "Good enough." Anyways G'day lovie.

Also Here's some more Pirate!Hobie without a shirt just because I can! ^^

I haven't drawn anything in a while so this came out pretty solid compared to the last piece I made but anyways💀

Here's some old WIP;

"I believe in Bald Hobie Supremacy."

[eyesxxyou]

𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖆 🏴‍☠️🐚

| ii. two| rough voice, gentle hands

🐚・・・pirate!Hobie x mute!siren!reader.

𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱: smoking, blood, fire, mentions of nightmares, crying, treating wounds

↳ ❝ the battle of wanting to be a good person and the fire of revenge ❞

𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

Hobie felt as though he was suffocating. Sweat clung to him like a second skin against his flesh. Sleep eluded him every time he so desperately reached for it. The sway of the ship did not comfort him as it usually did. It did not lull him to sleep like being held in his mothers tender arms and rocked slowly into slumber. It did not hum in his ear the tune of his childhood and offer the respite of home.

He stared out of the window beside his bed. The moon was full and partly hidden behind pale clouds. It shone so softly on the calm waters and made it sparkle like silver under the light. His fingers traced imaginary shapes on his tummy to soothe the turbulent thoughts plaguing him. Closing his eyes was not an option. Closing his eyes meant being haunted by the sight of two pearls, white and glassy and dead. He wasn’t sure who they belonged to. You or his mother.

Anxiety ate away at Hobie. It carved pieces of his soul, whittled away at the contours of his being with the intent to leave nothing behind. He trembled as if he were cold but the thin film of sweat layering his body said otherwise. Nights like these were not uncommon. If he wasn’t having a nightmare about his mother, he couldn’t sleep at all. He wasn’t sure which he preferred, if any.

Hobie sat up and sat off of the side of his bed, running his hands down his face with a heavy sigh. He thought of you, of your weeping frame in that cage looking up at him with those haunting eyes. He thought of the way you looked at him, the way you lingered, the way you looked so much like his mother in a way— helpless.

Hobie gripped his sheets and looked out the window once more. It was stifling in his cabin. The air was thick and hot with humidity. He needed fresh air and maybe a cigar to soothe his nerves enough to find some peace in sleep. Ale would be nice, drink himself to sleep so even if he did have a nightmare he wouldn’t remember it. But everyone was asleep below deck and he didn’t want to stumble about in the dark, risking an angry, sleepy crew member cursing at him.

He got up and grabbed a lanturn. He took his time lighting it and placed it carefully on his desk. It cast just enough light to let Hobie look through his desk for a stray cigar he had in one of the drawers. Once he found it, he took the lantern and his cigar and grabbed the dagger he never went without before he left his cabin.

The deck was eerily silent. Every creak of the wood under his boots made him wince. The air was cool, the wind was salty, and the moon shone so brightly that the lantern was mostly unneeded. The Mary Jane swayed softly with the calm water that kissed and caressed her sides and kept everyone in her hull fast asleep except for her captain who made his way towards the side of the ship.

Hobie placed the lantern down on the ledge and took out his cigar. He leaned against the side of the ship, placing the end of the cigar in the small flame encased inside the lantern to light it before taking it between his full lips. He took a drag with the wind, embers burning away at the end. And as the smoke passed between his lips, he let go of the tightness in his shoulders and the knot in his stomach. The smoke was musky and rich and eased Hobie's nerves more than the comfort of any human other than his mother.

His mother, you, his mother, you. He couldn't close his eyes. Eyes, white eyes, pearls hanging off your hips, his mother's corpse, the tremble of your lips, the decaying of her jaw, half her skull exposed.

His fingers gripped the edge of the ship, lip curling. Hobie took another long drag of his cigar and held it in a tight grip between his lips. He shook his head and rubbed his face. Burying his face in the palms of his hands, he groaned loudly with frustration. This was a torture Hobie wished on no one.

Hobie sat there with his face in his hands for a long while, occasionally bringing his cigar to his lips to smoke from it. His head ached, his chest tightened, and he longed for a home that no longer belonged to him.

There was a splash in the water. Swiftly, Hobie took his hands from his face and looked over the side of the ship down into the dark waters below. It must have been a fish, nothing more. He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes until he saw stars behind his lids and then white. Shakily, he took another drag from his cigar and let the smoke tumble from trembling lips.

Another splash. Hobie opened his eyes again and almost dropped his cigar into the water when he saw a head peeking up through the darkness just enough to reveal completely white eyes staring blankly at him.

It was you. Even in the darkness, he knew for certain it was you lurking in the waters, staring at him now with the same eyes that kept him from sleeping. He couldn't quite believe it was you and for a moment thought he was dreaming. This must have all been some elaborate scheme conjured up by his mind, set out to ruin his life and drive him into insanity.

He rubbed his eyes again, pinched his arm, and you were still there. You looked at him with an almost child-like wonder, your head breaching the water a little more to reveal the rest of your face. Water rolled down your cheeks like the tears had before, shimmering under the moonlight like little droplets of pearls.

Hobie looked towards the door that led below deck. It was still quiet. He almost wanted to retrieve Gwen to ensure his mind wasn't making fantasies, to ensure he wasn't dwindling into madness.

He looked back to you, his lip curling with distaste. “Wha’cha doin’ here?” 

You stared at him, your head tilted subtly to the side as you waded closer to the ship. Hobie sneered at you. “Are ya daft or sometin'? I let’cha go free. Get outta here.” He waved you off, attempted to shoo you away like one swats away a pest but you remained, moving ever closer to the ship.

You placed a clawed hand against the hull of the ship. Hobie watched in horror as you used your claws to grapple into the wood and climb your way up the side of the ship.

Hobie stumbled back, his hand retrieving his dagger as you climbed onto the ship and placed your feet aboard his deck. You glanced at his knife and trembled, whimpering softly.

Hobie had almost forgotten how ethereal you looked. Memory did your beauty no service. You were something handcrafted, something so meticulously designed it almost made him believe in a higher power. But he couldn’t let your deadly looks make him lose sight of what you really were. A danger.

“What do ya wan’?” He bared his teeth at you, fingers white-kuckling his dagger. His eyes were sharp with caution, shooting up and down your decorated body covered in pearls, seaweed, and shells. Your patches of scales almost twinkled with iridescent light. How could something so gorgeous be capable of such mass destruction and devastation? Nature was a cruel mistress.

“I let ya go. I coulda killed ya but I didn'. Ya gotta death wish or sometin’?”

You were clutching your shoulder; the one that had been injured before. You were shivering, looking so soft and vulnerable. It was clear you needed help. You had only wrapped up your shoulder with seaweed but it was bleeding through with the strenuous task you had just done.

You fell to your knees before him and looked up at him. You were tired and in pain. It would be easy to kill you now and be done with it. No one would know of his sin. You would plague him no longer. He would sleep well at night knowing you would never destroy anyone with your beauty again.

But how could he harm such a defenseless thing? If you wanted to kill him and his crew there were easier ways to do it. No– you were asking for help from him of all people. Maybe you figured that because he had helped you before he’d help you now when you needed it most.

Hobie should kill you. He knows he should. Your kind takes entire ships down indiscriminately, lure innocent people into the ocean to never be seen again or to wash up on shore days later with bleeding ears and whitened eyes. He had every reason in the world to kill you and let you rot out at sea like your victims.

But a softer part of him, the part who took in strays and gave them a home, asked him, ‘Is this who you really are? Killing someone that's so clearly asking for your help? Is that who you want to be?’ The battle of wanting to be a good person and the fire of revenge.

This was not right. Killing those in need of help would make him no better than the sirens he despised so much, no better than you and your kind. Hobie’s lip curled into a scowl. He would help you but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He’d be better than you, better than the whole lot of you. 

Hobie took his dagger and shoved it away into his belt at his hips. He raised his hands as if to surrender to you and got down low to show that he was no threat. You watched him slowly approach and something in your eyes told him you were scared. “Look, ‘m no’ gonna hur’cha.” His voice came off a bit abrasive though he tried to be gentle. You whimpered at him as he placed a hand on your shoulder, your lips pulling back to bare your teeth at him.

He backed away a bit. “You wan’ my help or no’?” He bit back at you. “You can go back t’where ya belong if no’.” His eyes were sharp and his lips were pressed, holding back a sneering frown. He made it clear. He did not need to help you, didn’t even want to in some sense. If you didn’t want it, he wouldn’t go out of his way to convince you to accept his help.

Your gaze shifted, you looked away for a moment. You were considering it. Finally, you yielded and stood, allowing Hobie to come close enough to touch you. Your skin was cool to the touch, water droplets clung to you, rolling down the dips and valleys of your body, your decency just barely hidden by coverings of seaweed.

His fingers slid over your skin, over the scales and fins of your forearm. You shivered, trembled so subtly under his warm touch. Your extra appendages were sensitive, his fingertips just barely grazed your fin. You almost tore your arm from his hold, but Hobie took your hand, taking a quick look at your webbed fingers carefully grabbing it. He stood before you, tossing his cigar over the side of the boat and into the water. You looked at him but he never seemed to look at you straight on. He’d catch quick glimpses of your gaze before letting his snap away elsewhere.

“Stay quiet.” Hobie’s voice was firm. “Do ya understand?” He grabbed the lantern from the ledge and held it up between the two of you to get a look at your face. You were pretty. Soft and delicate looking. He always expected sirens to look more…severe, more sharp and lethal-looking. The light reflected off of your eyes and made them glow gold. You nodded wordlessly.

Hobie guided you by your hand and led you below deck into the hold separate from where the rest of the crew slept. The dim fire from the lantern served as your only light in the darkness. It only illuminated the first few steps before you before the darkness swiftly rushed back in, biting at your heels.

He took you to where the few medical supplies they had were stored and brought up crates where you could sit with the lantern while he got bandages and a bottle of whiskey. Hobie placed the lantern down beside the two of you, it’s dim light glowing just enough that he could see your glittering frame.

“How’d ya get this anyway?” He grumbled, reaching out with tender fingers to carefully unwrap the seaweed you had haphazardly tied around the wound. “Harpoon or sometin'?” You nodded slowly, fingers mindlessly twiddling with each other in your lap. Your eyes keenly watched him, traced the contours of his face. Hobie pretended like he didn't feel your gaze grazing his face.

Eyes flicking between your exposed wound—bloodied and irritated by the salt water—and your eyes, tracing the lines of his being with endless bounds of curiosity, he swallowed. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey. “Hold still. And don't bite.” Using his teeth, he popped open the cork of the bottle and poured the liquid inside over the wound.

You flinched away from him, fangs bared just for a moment at the sting. A low growl erupted from your chest somewhat instinctively.

“Growlin’ a’ me will get’cha nowhere.” He set the bottle down and grabbed the strip of cloth he was using as a bandage. Your lips formed into the smallest touch of a pout. You wiggled and writhed away from him. Hobie scoffed. “Gettin’ pouty won' get me either. Now stop movin’. Makin’ this much harder than it needs t’be.”

His voice was rough but his fingers were gentle. He traced over your skin with tender care– bandage in his hand– and began to wrap it tightly around your shoulder. He made you lift your arm a little so he could wrap it under the hinge of your arm. Hobie leaned in close. He was sure to focus his gaze on your wound though he could feel the burning gaze of your pearl eyes on him, lingering.

“Ya got a starin’ problem or sometin’?”

You did not grace him with a response. No shake or nod of your head. You simply stared. You did have a problem.

Hobie finished up wrapping your bandage with a quiet, “there”, and leaned away from you to hopefully get some space and breathe. You sat with your hands on your thighs, staring with wide, bright, white eyes. He was disturbed by you. Your vague allusion to human-ness made him uneasy, the way you stared made him uneasy, you made him uneasy.

“Leave. Ya got whatcha came fo’.”

You did not budge. You sat and stared with your head cocked to the side a little. You almost looked like a puppy, confused, eager, a bit ditzy.

Hobie almost wanted to be endeared. Instead he got annoyed. “Did ya no’ hear me? Go!” He pointed towards the hatch that led up to the deck. “Ya don' belong here ‘n ya know i’.” It was harsh, cutthroat, as if he had taken his dagger and jabbed it through your chest.

Hobie looked at you and could see the beginnings of tears glossing over your eyes. Your full, bottom lip trembled in a way all too familiar to him. Your tears reflecting in the light, tears like the pearls that hung off of your frame. Even if you couldn't sing, you were a siren in your own right. Your tears were your song and could lure even the toughest of sailors to their doom.

Curse you.

“Fine, fine, just– stop cryin’ would’ja? You can stay here fo’ the night but ya in the mornin’. Ya hear?” Rough voice.

You nod vigorously with understanding. You watched tearfully Hobie stand up with the lanturn and take your hand in his. Gentle hands. “Come on, we gotta hide ya. Don't wan’ my crew knowin’ ya here. Yer gonna give ‘em a fright.” He tugged and you stood, stumbling along behind him further below the ship into the hull.

Hobie took you to the room where they kept all the gunpowder and ale and moved a large barrel to the side so you could lay in the corner behind it. He looked around and found a sack of potatoes he summarily dumped out and tore apart so you could use it to cover yourself through the night.

“Don't leave this spot ‘til I come get ya in the mornin’. Understand?”

You nodded and grabbed the sack, looking at it in confusion. You slept underwater or on rocks. You’ve never used anything of the sort in your life. Hobie took it from you and made you lay down before draping it over you. “See, t’keep ya warm.”

Hobie moved the barrel back into place to hide you in case any of his crew came in to grab any ale in the morning. He’d come back for you as soon as day broke over the horizon before anyone woke up to usher you back off the ship and out to where you belong.

He was going to just walk away when something in him made him turn around and tell you, “good night”. Something soft and human. Something sympathetic and understanding.

And you purred a little tune along the same lines.

[starffires]

okok cuz we’ve been talking AUs all day —

what about pirate!hobie and mermaid!miles

hobie is the captain of his own ship that has been skillfully avoiding navy captain!miguel o’hara and he finds a reef of mermaids

not only that he finds miles perched on a rock and he’s just gorgeous

miles would definitely be curious about all the human trinkets that hobie has and hobie is more than glad to explain them all to miles

hobie would spend hours on the sand watching miles talk about the reef he’s from and his childhood

pav and gwen would def be a part of hobie’s crew and they’re immediately shipping the two

hobie has to leave to routinely to make sure that miguel doesn’t catch up to him and miles is always so sad when he leaves

but hobie always promises to return and to come back with more trinkets for miles

miles keeps everything that hobie brings to him

[pinksugarscrub]

Home

Pirate! Hobie x fem! reader

In the famous words of Luffy (Iñaki) future pirate king, "A ship is also a home".

Inspired by Between the Devil and the Sea by @the-kr8tor

(Tossed draft for The Pirate Princess)

The piano echoes in your mind like an endless melody. Tapping your fingers against the edge of the crow’s nest like you would the ivory keys. You can remember the gold encrusted stars in the ceiling. The walls darker than the depths of the sea. How your heels clicked across a tiled floor that was so iridescent it was like you were dancing on glass.

Although you breathe in the salt from the body of water below, you taste something sweet on your tongue as you reminisce. It isn’t sad, just bittersweet.

“Interupting you am I?”

Laughter bubbles out of your lips as you feel a familiar set of arms wrap around your waist. Hobie burying his nose into the crook of your neck. You never grow tired of the warm fuzzy feeling his presence brings you and you can’t help but try to pull him closer so he’s flush against your back. 

“Woah!” Hobie chuckles,“a bit early for that isn’t it love?”

You click your tongue. Rolling your eyes as you try to jab his side with your elbow. “Oh hush! You’ve officially ruined the moment.”

He snickers, easily catching your arm before twisting you around to face him. “Officially? What are we, bloody marines?”

The chatter from the crew below helps bring you back to reality. Your new reality. One you wouldn’t trade for the world.

Crossing your arms across your chest you lean against the wall of the crow’s nest. Arching a brow at him as you decide to play along. “At least the marines know what to do when a beautiful woman falls into their lap.” 

His grin widens into a smirk you know all to well and you’re already dreading he’ll say next.

“But do they know how to keep their woman satisfied? Hm?” He leans forward. Eyes flicking between your lips and gaze. “Like I do?” 

Of course, like the gullible woman you are, you let your eyes flutter shut. You’re confused until you hear him giggle and you know you’ve been duped because when you open your eyes he’s looking down at you with that cheeky look on his face. It’s so infuriating but it apparently still has an affect on you anyway because you feel heat crawl up your cheeks.

You take this moment of loss to your self-esteem to admire his attire. A newly mended white blouse that’s cut to expose some of his chest. (You’ll have to thank Kamala for that later). Signature holster around his waist. Very casual compared to the thick leather coat he adorns when you go into battle. 

Personally, you believe your crew has more style than a bird of paradise with how many trinkets and accessories they seem to find each time you dock the Mary Jane. 

“Aww darling, c’mere,”he coos. ”You’re so cute when you get all pouty with me.”

You huff in annoyance as you try to keep him away. It’s obvious he’s pretending to struggle but you can’t bring yourself to care. He’s making loud kissy noises while you whine and push your palms against his chest. One on his exposed skin (Were you about to pass up that opportunity? I think not!) and the other on the cotton of his sleeve.

“No! What kind of Captain denies his navigator a kiss!?

He grunts,“The kind that will make up for it later! Now come here-” 

You struggle for a moment longer before you hear someone call out to you. The two of you stop. Blinking at each other before Hobie let’s you slip out of his grasp. His hand on your lower back to keep you from leaning to far over the edge.

“Oh Robbie!” You cheerfully wave down. He’s nothing more than a speck of green but you always manage to hear him clearly.

“Mate,” Hobie yells,“we were kind of in the middle of something important.”

Said first mate scoffs at him before rolling his eyes. Not that you see any of this happen. You just know the man well enough. “Oh yes, so important…” He clears his throat before yelling back,“Riri’s messed with the gear again and I’m pretty sure we’re headed in the opposite direction.”

You can only watch as a tool is chucked in his direction. You’re assuming from inside Riri’s makeshift workshop. Wincing as it successful bonks him in the head. “It’s called renovating!” 

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry. 

“I’ll be right down!” Your boots scuffing against the wood as you make your way past Hobie to the ladder. 

“Pray tell, where-” You squeak as you feel him tug you back into his chest. Stumbling not so gracefully after craning your neck up to see him. “-do you think, you’re going, without giving me my kiss?”

“I’m sorry,” you laugh,”but I have duties, Captain.” He preens at the title. Shifting you around in his arms like you would a rowdy pup. “If we want to reach port in the next six hours and you know, not die of starvation on this ship. I need to go.”

“I never told you not to.” He answers. Grinning as he tightens his hold on you. “But you have at least a minute to spare for your beloved, yes?”

You scrunch you nose, gently shaking your head as if scolding a child. A very greedy child that always seems to attach himself to you. It’s a wonder the crew hasn’t named him the ocean’s clingest sea urchin. “My beloved, yes, my captain…no,” you chuckle. “Come on Hobie, I promise you a kiss after supper and after I help Riri.”

He sighs dramatically before releasing you. His hands up in surrender as he backs away. “Fine fine. But I’m holding you to it eh? The second you’re done you come find me.”

“Aye Captain.” You salute. He watches as you hop down the ladder and after two or three steps you disappear. Once you’re out of earshot he lets out a dreamy sigh, slumps against the walls of the crow’s nest, and cranes his neck up to the sky. 

“Oi, that means you too Hobart!” Robbie hisses. “Stop daydreaming a get down ere’!”

Hobie snorts, fixing his hat. “Alright, I’m comin’!”

[vulnonapix1234]

What if they where pirates in an one piece world?

Hobie is the captain and escaped the hands of the celestial dragons and swore himself to take revenge on them.

Gwen is his second in command and ate a devil fruit as a child, giving her the ability to make ice sculptures of herself. She ran away because she felt pressured into the relationship with some kind of noble man.

Miles is the navigator of the crew after Gwen recuted him. (Both of their dads are high animals in the marine). He ran away after seeing the corrupt side of the marine and is in the possession of illusion powers.

Pavitr is a delight and the "kidnapped" prince of an small country. He kidnapped himself and now works together with Hobie to free his country from the control of the celestial dragons.

Peni is the mechanic of the ship and joined because miles and Gwen where nice to her. She would die for them and neither Miles bor Gwen want that.

Margo is their mechanic and there because of spite, after the ships she had built where stolen by the marine

(There is to add that Pavs, Miles and Gwens wanted poster say "alive")

(I decided to give miles Illusion powers cause lightning and invisibility where already taken)

(Gwens ice statues are amazing weapons and are super dangerous, especially if she tag teams with miles)

[dema-heart]

Pirate Hobie

Guess who got her friend to draw pirate hobie and never got to send it!!! I'm sending it now with a slightly more detailed meeting! @the-kr8tor been dying to show you this!!!

Hobie x fem reader

Just a short I have no real intentions of taking this anywhere! Just added to the little chat I had with @the-kr8tor

Mentions of swords,waves, boats, threats, ect pirates ya know

Unedited, it was like 2am here and I couldn't get this out my head. It was supposed to just be the picture🤦🏾‍♀️

You peak out from inside the crate you had snuck on board the ship in. Checking around to make sure no one was there. Sighing in relief you climb out hitting the ground with a grunt as a wave rocked the boat.

Boat. Waves. The smell of ale, fish, and salt fills your lungs. You can't help but smile in glee. You'd made it on board the ship and you're currently at sea. You couldn't believe it had worked out so easily. Sure you didn't mean to doubt Peter when he'd come up with the plan but honestly the man spent half the time coming up with it bragging about his baby and how his wife would kill him if he came along.

Smiling, you sit up, careful not to fall again as you made your way to the door. The rocking of the boat wasn't too hard to get accustomed to, and you found yourself giddy all over again feeling like a sea fairing natural.

Peaking out the door, you look both ways before creeping up the hall in hopes of finding the female pirate you'd got a glimace of earlier. Rumors and tales had her known as the ghost-spider pirate. Known for her association with death and bad luck for being a woman at sea but also for her tales of adventure and vigilantism alongside Captain Brown, the feared and renowned punk Captain of the Anarchy.

You keep up the pace, hearing chatter and laughter above you. Distracted, you don't notice the figure leaning against the wall you just pasted. A chuckle stops you you in your tracks and you turn comedically slow toward the sound.

A tall man stares at you with a smirk. The gold ring on his lip glinting in the low light the only way you can tell his lip is quirked. You're not able to see much of him due to how dark it is in the hall, and the notion scares you a bit. You straighten up hand falling to the sword on your hip. You're not very well trained on using it but you'd be damned if you went down without a fight.

"Whoa there..." He raises his hands, not moving from the shadows. He's watching you noticing the waver in your hands and the improper posture. "..was only going to ask how you got ya self lost down here, guppy." His tone is teasing,nonchalant as if he's unbothered by a stranger sneaking around the ship supposedly threatening him.

You narrow your eyes before huffing as he obviously isn't falling for your bluff. "I'm here to speak to ghost-spider. That's all. I want to know her story and how I can get accepted as a woman adventurer...I mean no harm and I have no intentions of stealing or making a burden of myself. So if you'd politely lead me to her or the Captain." Standing your ground you stare into what you assume is the eyes of the man daring him to deny you.

He chuckles, stepping forward the click of his heels against the wood loud in the quiet hall. You hold in a gasp as he reveals himself. You don't recognize him as most the pirates have identifying markings on their coats. However, this man is in a casual blouse and trousers. Nothing identifying on him. He's tall and quite handsome the smirk you could feel showing clear as day as he steps foward further into your space, causing you to step back, gripping the hilt of your sword.

"Don't come any closer! I'm not sure who on the crew you are but I'm not afraid to draw my sword against you" His laughter startles you almost diffusing the fear with confusion and annoyance. He looks you over a mischievous glint in his eyes as he nods toward your sword.

"Be good to learn how to hold it before threatenin to use it, guppy. Won't do you any good if it's holder isn't even unbundled." He nods toward the latch keeping the sword handle in place. You groan as you realize he's right, but don't move from your defensive position instead undoing the buckle without breaking eye contact you raise a brow at him.

"As I said be kind enough to lead the way or allow me to pass I've no interest in your games,sir. I'm here to accomplish my dreams and I refused to let you stop me" you stand your ground, watching as an impressed look briefly washes over his face.

"As you wish,guppy. Right this way then. Feel free to draw your sword while my back is turned but I don't think it'll go over well with the rest of the crew" He shrugs hands sliding into his pockets as he walks past you toward a door you had passed not to long ago. He opens it showing the stairs to the deck and causing the sound of chatter and waves to get louder.

You followed him up, taking in your surroundings in amazement, not noticing how quiet it had gotten. You push past him the moment you see the waves across the side of the ship. The sight of open sea confirming you really had made it.

"Who's this, cap?" You hear a different voice from the one you'd become acquainted too. Turning around, you see the whole crew standing around you, the man from earlier in the front next to the blond haired pirate you'd been hoping to meet. She wasn't the one to ask the question though confused you look to see who they could be talking about. The man who'd led you here smirks stepping foward and placing an arm over your shoulder. He grins as he faces the crew.

"This is guppy! A stowaway. The lad Peter told us all about before we left port. As captain, I went down to meet her for myself, and she's just as fiery as he said! She even threatened me with her sword. A fine addition to our band of misfits if I do say so myself" He makes the announcement, and you can feel yourself drain of color as you realize just who you'd been with this whole time. The captain brown the dreaded punk of the seas had bot only known you'd stowed away on his ship but come to get you himself and allowed you to make an absolute blunder of yourself in front of him.

"Don't worry, guppy. I'm not known to hold grudges against pretty lasses like yourself. And as you said, you had no intentions of making a burden of yourself." He looks down at you speaking just loud enough for you to hear over the cheers of the crew. With a wink, he guides you to the female pirate herself before walking off to chat with his crew.

There's three things you noticed.

One there more than just ghost-spider heres who's female. That alone almost let's you push past the second fact.

Two you had threatened the infamous Captain of the Anarchy and lived to tell the tale. Hell he'd given you a nickname and said you were one of theirs now.

Three Peter made you hide in a box and pretend to be cargo when he'd apparently already told the whole crew you'd be joining.

Sighing, you shook your head taking one last glance at who you now know is captain hobie brown. You meet his gaze and he winks causing you to startle and turn quickly back to Gwen, who looked amused at the situation.

Gwen smiled, shaking the hand you stuck out to her wtih amusement. "You're in for a lonnnng ride. Let me introduce you...".

Fin

[jess-fae]

Mermaid au part 2

Note; I finally got around to finishing the second part woohh, btw i am sorry for the weird spelling errors i will hopefully fix it this time

Summary; Hobie is a pirate captured by the British navy and one day Y/N a mermaid finds him

Trigger warning; thoughts of death, angst, violence, dont worry happy end i promise

✦ "I want you to kill me, I cannot live this life." you looked into his eyes once you would have felt such love but now you felt nothing, it hurt deeply

✦and even if you wouldn't turn into seafoam like your sisters, this would be the only way to end this tragedy humans called life

✦ so you looked hopeful into Hobie's eyes hoping he would understand, after all, in these shared moments you two had there had to be at least a few where he cared for you too, right

 ✦ yet as those words had fallen off your lips Hobies mouth fell dry, he cursed the captain and the lieutenant and whoever let them take away such a big part of yourself

 ✦ you pressed the dagger into his hand, which he swiftly pulled back shaking his head and refusing even to touch the weapon that he was supposed to take your life with

 ✦ you knew you were asking for much but you couldn't help but feel a little betrayed, as you looked over to the water you questioned what all the men felt like when you drowned them and if it would feel any different for you

 ✦ "A can't, it aint righ' dove" he whispered as his hand reached out for your own, noticing the lack of small scales and claws that could have ripped out his heart out at any moment

 ✦tears began to swell in your eyes again as you whispered to yourself "From the sea we are formed, to the sea we return." it was an old saying spoken after or before the death of a mermaid

 ✦even though Hobie could hear you speak, he didn't understand the meaning of what you were saying, but he guessed it couldn't be to good as you starred into the ocean with your eyes full of longing

 ✦as you dropped the dagger and stood up to get closer to the edge of the small boat, Hobie grabbed your wrist stopping you from jumping off

 ✦pulling you close just as a crew member walked along the deck, his voice turning into a whisper "am sure there is a way where ya don' have to die love"

 ✦you sat back down, watching him closely as he thought, that's when it hit him, around a year ago he had saved a witch from being burned alive by angry chr*stians

 ✦" 'lright, I migh' have an idea but we gotta get these chains of." before he knew it you were climbing up the ship again, only to return a few minutes later with a old pair of keys

 ✦ you threw them down to him and Hobie immediately tried them on his chains that were trying his legs to the boat

 ✦ back down with him, you saw that familiar smirk dancing on his lips, "Do you promise if this doesn't work that you will put me out of this misery?"

��✦the smirk faded and Hobie choked on unsaid words but nodded, the witch had to help you, she had too...

...

 ✦days passed and for you, it seemed like you were just aimlessly swimming around, boredom had gotten the better out of you as you leaned over the edge and let your fingers dance around in the water

 ✦watching as hobie rowed the boat, his slim but yet strong arms flexing every so often

 ✦he made jokes but you couldn`t laugh, still wishing that this would all end soon

 ✦ your eyes went back to the ocean, missing every moment where the cold water used to hug you like a lover would have, now it would just feel like chains tying you down longing for your death

 ✦another day had passed and hobie had finally found the island he had been looking for, praying to whoever would hear him and listen

 ✦he guided the boat through the swamp-like waters, till he saw the small wooden shed

 ✦the two of you stood in front of the door, knocking swiftly waiting for the witch to open the door

 ✦when the door opened a rather young beautiful woman stepped into view, her face falling into a smile as she saw hobie

 ✦you studied her closer as she pulled you two inside, her locs were long and put in a high bun with many of them falling out, her face was filled with golden piercings, and her body was wrapped in a long green dress that reminded you of the kelp forest you loved to explore with your friend

 ✦you found out her name was Eissa, and she asked what she could help hobie with, while he was busy explaining the situation to her you found yourself stunned by her house

 ✦it was filled with different magical items and trinkets that could only be found on the bottom of the sea

 ✦"Is there any way you can make her a mermaid again?" Hobie finished and Eissa looked puzzled, she walked over to one of her many bookshelves and picked up a book skipping through the pages

 ✦you could see her eyes widen after some time, "Hobie may I speak to you in private?" he nodded and told you to stay here before kissing your forehead and leaving into the other room

 ✦"How much are you willing to do for her?"

 ✦"Anything"

 ✦Eissa swallowed before she turned the book towards him, showing him that for such a ritual you would be required to eat a human heart, but not such any, one that was willing to give it up for you

 ✦the room was thickly filled with silence, hobies hand went to his belt grabbing hold of the dagger you had pushed in his hand when you asked him for the impossiable

 ✦ he looked at it closely before handing it to Eissa, nodding at her

 ✦soon enough he sat down and took his final breaths of air, he had gotten her into this situation

 ✦Eissa returned to the room with you inside and gotten her pot out, gently putting hobies heart inside

 ✦"w-where is hobie?" you asked looking back at the door hoping for him to step out of it at any point

 ✦"He can't be here turning the ritual" a lie. but it would be a waste to tell you as things were already done

 ✦soon you laid on a desk as your legs were tied together, Eissa handed you the heart which was still hot from being soaked in the potion

 ✦"You will need to eat it..."

 ✦eating a heart wasn't to strange to you, but you never did it as a human could it be very different?

 ✦it was definitely harder to chew and it wasn't as enjoyable as it was before but you had gotten it down eventually

 ✦pain shot threw your legs are you watched them grow back together and into the beautiful tail it once was

 ✦emotions came rushing through you, hate, sadness and love. love for hobie

 ✦ so you asked again and Eissa finally told the truth, cutting through the rope with you claws you crawled your way to the other room

 ✦where in fact you saw hobies lifeless body, your arms wrapped around him repeatedly saying his name hoping for him to wake up

 ✦your cries turned into a melody, a melody that had wrapped itself around hobies body

 ✦Eissa watched as the blood from his stained shirt started to flow back into the wound, how the color started to paint his skin again and how his chest started to rise and fall again

 ✦hobies heart wasn't gone, it was very well still there beating... just not in his own body

 ✦his hand held a deathly tight grip on your arm as his eyes ripped open and came back to the undead

 ✦everyone's eyes widen at the sight, hobies hand rushed to his chest as he looked down to it not seeing a wound anymore

 ✦ unbeknown to you, you were singing a form of a healing melody used on fellow mermaids, and since his heart was within you it had healed him

 ✦ your arms wrapped around him again, hanging onto him with your full weight which was more than when you were human bringing him down to the floor

 ✦"ergh ehm, I rather not interrupt your little reunion but, Y/N can't be on land for to long or just dry in general before turning into a human again, till she is drenched again. but good news, if you are to become human you wont experience emotional loss like you did this time."

 ✦Eissa explained reading from her little book, hobie picked you up and carried you outside to place you in the water

 ✦you thanked the witch over and over again before hobie and you took off again

 ✦out on the open sea sunset wasn't away for to long and you jumped into the boat with him, letting your tail hang of the side of the boat

 ✦"You know i still need to thank you for what you did, hobie" you said leaning against his shoulder watching the sun go down

 ✦"oh do ya love?" his asked playfully, smirking down at you

 ✦"How about we get you a ship again?"

Note: argghhhh they're so cute!!! anyways that was part two i hope you guys liked it. I am planning to make a third part with more cuter shizzel and maybe smut...

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

No thoughts.

Only Pirate!Hobie.

Pirate!Hobie leading a whole crew (organized under anarchist principle of course) - even a whole fleet of ships

Running up on British navy ships and ransacking the mfers, taking their boats and freeing their prisoners

He's a generous captain and the parties on his ships get WILD (he be at the tavern with the mandem), and he's known to help out poor port cities that may need help or protection

His crew being super loyal to him because he makes sure they're taken care of - Gwen being his second in command (with her own pirate garb of course). He's an expert navigator across the seas.

AMAZING in battle, and has taken down dozens of Navy and enemy ships. Pavi helping out on his ships as they take down the British Navy and return artifacts -

Hobie accepting anybody on his crew as long as they're willing to help out how they can -

Come on he already has a boathouse!!!

PIRATE HOBIE

[valdrinors-writing]

so ive been thinking of p4 asau shadows and am going to be super annoying about them

---

shadow priestess yosuke wants to escape. he's stuck at a crossroads between junes' and inaba and moving back to the big city. he doesnt care how or when, he wants out!

his shadow is a pirate and his dungeon resembles one of those like community theatre productions of shows w pirates in them? its quite clearly a set lmao the producers of the midnight channel really went under budget for that one

plus him being a captain gives him some form of agency that he feels as though he never gets lol

shadow emperor yukiko's dungeon is the one that has the most thought put into it - its a haunted house, with yukiko as an onryo

unlike canon yukiko emperor yukiko has a shit tonne of insecurities about 'not being feminine enough' to be the heir to the amagi inn - she cant cook or clean and she sucks at talking to people w/o them becoming weirded out - so she overcompensates becoming an ice queen who has basically blocked herself off from anyone

then fortune chie comes back after 5 years away. then the amagi inn gets filmed by ghost hunters trying to find ms yamanos ghost. then she falls into the tv world and y e a h nothing is fine and everything hurts

shadow kanji is very similar to his shadow in canon, but add in the fact that he's quite publicly presented as being the 'cool masculine' one to the mix

he still feels awkward about his identity, being swarmed by women makes him uncomfortable because he wants privacy goddammit! why can't they just treat him like a human being?

spoiler alert stalkers are stalkers which was part of the reason that he came back to inaba to work at his mom's textile shop - and yeah, that adds on everything

his dungeon resembles the sauna in canon, but kanji himself has been split into two sides - the feminine campy 'sauna kanji', and the hyperaggressive man's man 'leather kanji'. they both argue and fight over who's the real kanji, which results in the dungeon being a mess lmao

---

@beezonia @hobie-doh @rollthedice-playthecards

[the-kr8tor]

Guys, guys! Listen I've been having this brainrot for a few days and I think I'm ready to share it! It's perfect for another Halloween fic!

Imagine pirate captain! Hobie who only plunders the rich to give to the needy (like robin hood but on the sea) his crew consists of the atsv cast, (miles, pav, gwen maybe even some ttn casts in there) and then there's the reader, who craves adventure on the sea but couldn't because she's a woman and women are bad luck when sailing the sea. But then she sees Gwen and goes wait a minute, that's allowed?

She sneaks inside the boat as a stowaway then somebody finds her tucked inside a barrel lol there's gonna be sea monsters and the navy will be after them too!

This is what happens when I happen to watch the last voyage of the Demeter thinking it'll be like iwtv lmao

Send me your thoughts if you want me to write something like this!

[alexoreality]

About Hobie and Luffy....do you have headcanons to this couple? I need fluffy, angst, romamce...anything

Spider Rebellion (credits to @aenbyveryverygayperson for the ship name)

Headcannons! And how they first met

Just like many other spider people, Luffy was invited into the Society of Spiders

He hasn't been there as long as the others but he was there longer than Gwen or Peter B.

Which was saying something

"I know I know! You're probably already tired from hearing this, but lets do it one more time. Hi, I'm Monkey D. Luffy! And behind this mask, I won't declare my dreams. I was bit by a radioactive spider and got more powers, and for the last 5 years; I've been the Grandline's one and only.. Spider-man. You know the rest"

Timeskip, he meets Miles and takes him under his wing because A. Miles deserves to have a chance to save his father and B. He is still a young teen, he doesn't deserve to give a wake up call to a fully-grown adult man.

He absolutely loves sharing stories about the grandline and such, but no one NO ONE knows who he is. Who is behind the mask of this spiderman!

No one knows he's a pirate captain too.

So Miguel kinda takes advantage of it and spills his entire story to the Society. But it doesn't work.

Luffy's notorious for being the most friendly and capable spider person in the Society. Helping others through their own struggles since they happened to have given him some food.

When they saw his story, his rebellion, his gathering of his pirate crew... the way he swings from building to building and gets to his anchored ship. To see his peacefully sleeping crew. Seeing him burn down an authority flag down for his friend. Seeing him do the impossible like any spider man would for their world.

"Justice is blind, not heartless" was his lesson.

Hobie was in love the moment he saw the flag burn down. The moment Luffy didn't even flinch when the government did

The main reason why Luffy's abilities are so importsnt to his canon's stability is because he is also a D. And D's chsnge their surroundings for the better or for the worse

He can control his canon. What he wants or doesn't want to happen? His canon listens. Only if he truly wants it to happen.

Hobie doesn't like the fact he wss going to be chained down by love, something socoety weaved and portrsyed as something amazing. He started to act cold and distant towards Luffy

Spider Society starts to give Hobie more side eyes for not liking Luffy

But Luffy? Luffy understands it, Luffy understands it. Because he understands the value of freedom for Hobie and for himself

Once they get Miguel 'back to his universe' Luffy deals with Miguel.

Like literally

Poor Hobie gets a gay panic.

The romance starts when Luffy suddenly becomes Hobie's canon as he now starts to bleed to death from a battle that was meant to be Hobie's, not to mention, they hsd a genuine fight

Luffy really thought he was gonna die before comfessing but maybe that was kinder, nicer of the verse to do instead of making Hobie even more disgusted by him

[eyesxxyou]

𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖆 🏴‍☠️🐚

| v. five | to weave a basket

🐚・・・pirate!Hobie x mute!siren!reader.

𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱: light drinking. vague mentions of death. descriptions of fire. hobie kind tweaks out in this one. yelling. glass breaking. reader gets scared.

↳ ❝ but there were ways to bring home back in the darkest of nights ❞

𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

The crackle of the fire popped in Hobie’s ears. The heat radiating off of it kept his shivering at bay as he sat under the open night sky, twinkling with stars winking at him with secrets shared between them. His mother sat at his side, weaving a basket she had been working on for a few days. The fire crackled again, and popped with embers that just narrowly missed Hobie’s toes. He wiggled them into the sand.

He yawned and curled up into his mother, slowly climbing into her lap from under her arm. She welcomed him in as any mother would. She wrapped her arms around him and let him rest his head on her bosom as she continued weaving her basket before the fire for light. Her hum rattled her chest. Hobie thought he could hear the tune through her ribcage.

Hobie could hear the ocean just beyond the fire. Her white waves crashing into sharp rocks and rounding out their rough edges. He wanted to be crashed into, rounded out, made soft. But he was young, he had no sharp edges yet, no hardened heart. He was just a boy with his mother.

That basket would never be completed. He’d never hear her hum her tune again. They’d never sit next to their fire and enjoy each other's company.

If only Hobie could realize that this was the last time he’d ever be truly happy.

Childhood ripped from trembling hands that so desperately reached out for it. His mother's scent still lingered in his nose, her warmth on his skin, her song in his ears. He rocked back and forth slowly and breathed deeply in hopes that maybe –just maybe– he could fall back into slumber and experience his last moments of real joy.

Hobie trembled violently in his bed. His eyes glossed over, tears swelling in his eyes that he quickly blinked away for his own sake. Crying would do him no good now. What's done is done.

But he could mourn. He could mourn what could have been. The life he could have had, taking care of his mother who would be old by now. Instead he was out at sea with no home and with a responsibility to his crew. He was a captain of one of the most fearsome crews in the region but with great power comes no future.

After the sorrow came the numbness. A drink would do him some good. It was just late enough into the night that no one would be awake to bother him. Whoever was in the bird’s-nest would probably be asleep too, lazy bastards. He loved them all dearly.

With quivering hands, Hobie went around his cabin, pulling on the clothes he had left strewn about the night before in his haste to get some rest. How naive to think that this would be the night where that would be a possibility for him. All sleep was restless and a waste of time. Always haunted and traumatized by what he had seen in his short, little life.

With his clothes on and a lantern in hand, Hobie opened the door to his cabin and just narrowly missed tripping over the curled up body on the floor. He always forgot about you and you quirk of finding your way to his door in the middle of the night like a dutiful pet. Slightly annoyed by it, Hobie nudged you with his foot to get up. “Come on, pearl. Ya can' sleep ‘ere, ya know tha’.”

You had a habit of sleeping just outside his door. Ever since the crew found out about you (Gwen couldn't keep her mouth shut) he’s made you sleep in the storage room. But you always managed to find your way back outside his door every single night. You couldn't be separated from him. No matter how much distance he attempted to put between the two of you, you were in a constant fight to close the gap.

You hummed and purred and rolled over like a cat, your eyes slowly fluttering open. They glittered under the dim light of the lantern like gold coins. You sat up slowly, looking up with him with your puppy-like gaze, sweet and soft with a tenderness Hobie hasn't seen in many, many years.

You stood before him with all your precious beauty. The flickering flame of the lantern made you glow so subtly. How ethereal. “Go back t’slseep where ya belong.” Hobie muttered before walking down the small corridor to make his way to the galley. You stood watching him, a pout on your lips and your droopy eyes softening. You were signing but with his back to you, you might as well have been signing to the wall. It probably would have been a better listener.

You were quick to follow after him, walking so closely he could hear the rattle of your pearls against the softness of your body and the long, seaweed clothing dragging against the wooden floors. The flick of your finger signing. He ignored it all and walked into the galley before finally turning back to you. “Wha’cha still followin’ me fo’?”

You had nothing to say to him now. You stood there with no good reason as to why you were still following him. Maybe because you liked him. Maybe because you thought he was so pretty how could you possibly put him out of your sight? Maybe because he saved you. Maybe because when you look at him something in your chest aches a little. You’ve been alone all of your life and now you've attached yourself to the very first person to show even the smallest bit of kindness to you.

You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth and looked up at him with those sweet eyes of yours. Hobie quickly shifted his gaze from yours. “Sit down then. ‘m ‘avin’ a drink.” He placed the lantern down on the table in front of where you decided to sit.

You watched him get some ale and grab a few oranges for you before walking over and sitting down at the table across from you. He placed the oranges in front of you and watched your eyes come alight with joy while he sipped on his stale ale.

You peeled one orange and split it in half to share with him. “Nah, pearl. Ion wan’ any.” He gave it back to you and happily, you began to eat his half, sweet juice squirting out over your lips and fingers. You smile with a quiet joy, giggling to yourself.

Hobie watched you from behind his wooden mug. The small lantern flame made your look soft, your giggling made him smile. You were…cute. Your cheeks were full and with oranges, your giggling was like eating candy for the first time. Like a sugar rush. Blood flooded his cheeks, his pupils were dilating.

It would be his secret. No one had to know that he thought you were the prettiest little thing around. Not even he needed to know. Hobie would push it into the recesses of his mind and let it linger there, fester until he'd be forced to deal with it. He had to get you off this ship before it became a problem. Before you became a problem. You had only been a mild inconvenience for him so far, barely even that. You were loud without speaking, always standing exactly where he needed you not to, and ever since you’ve found a way to communicate you’ve been signing to no end. You’ve made yourself likable and endearing to the crew in a matter of 2 days.

You might've been pretty, but he knew what hid just beneath them. Your supple lips hid fangs. Your long lashes and glittering eyelids hid the eyes that some could say were the last things they’ve ever seen. Soft hands held sharp claws. The soft valleys of your body meant to hypnotize.

The silence between the two of you was soft and quiet. The Mary Jane groaned with the rock of the waves pushing her side to side. The subtle smack of your lips. Your eyes looking up at him. He still can't bear to look at them without thinking of his mother's terrible fate.

His mother. You. His mother. You. His sight flickered.

How utterly lonely Hobie felt. On a ship in the middle of the sea, stranded. It was ironic really. He offered a home to so many, and yet, he could never go back home himself. Surrounded by so many yet completely and terribly alone.

But there were ways to bring home back in the darkest of nights.

“Have ya ever woven a basket before?” Hobie asked, his voice breaking through the tender silence between you two. You blinked, once, twice, then shook your head slowly. ‘Never.’ You are the last bit of your orange and licked your lips slowly, sucking on the pads of your fingers. You barely even knew what a basket was but you were more than willing to find out if he’d be the one teaching you.

You have been practicing signing with Hobie and his crew. Now you can communicate a great plethora of words. But it’s Hobie who understands you the best. You only really bothered to talk to him. ‘Me want learn.’ 

Hobie raised a brow at you. “Ya wanna learn?” You nod with the sweetest little smile on your lips. ‘Yes. You teach me please.’

He nipped at his bottom lip. It wouldn't hurt to teach you. Maybe it would help him. He hasn't woven a basket in many, many years, but he could still do it with his eyes closed.

Wordlessly, Hobie grabbed the handle to the lantern and stood up. You watched him walk towards the small stars that led out of the galley. You had learned by now that whenever Hobie left you, he usually didn't want you to follow so you stayed with learned obedience. It was only when he turned to you and motioned you to come that you got up and rushed up to him.

You followed him into the storage room where there happened to be straw on the floor. “Ya wanna grab as much straw as ya can. We’re gonna use i’ t’weave a basket.”

Hobie was uncharacteristically tender with you. He showed you which straw you should use to weave so that the basket isn't too weak but also flexible enough that you can bend it without it breaking. He placed his hand on your shoulder, careful not to press too hard into your wound. You looked at him, his concentration, the sharpness of his side profile. A jem. This feeling called desire. You wanted to be close to him. You wanted him to like you. You wanted to be what humans called a “friend”.

Once you collected a sufficient amount of straw, Hobie coaxed you to make your way to the deck where the two of you sat at the helm and placed your straw before you.

“Ya wanna start like this.” Hobie was slow to demonstrate to you, crossing one straw with another. You followed him, watching with careful eyes. It was quite easy at first but with each crossing of the straws it became harder to keep up with.

You let out something of a distressed cry. Tossing down your misshapen basket, your eyes welled with tears of frustration.

Hobie set his basket down to move to your side to help you. “Hey, hey, ‘s okay, lil’ pearl. Lemme see.” Suddenly before the fluttering lantern fire you two had huddled close into, you were pressed side to side. With his arm pressed into yours, his knee against your chaste thigh, he leaned in close and took your basket into his hands. Nimble fingers skillfully reweave your mistakes while he croons at you. “You were doin’ well. Ya just need t’ leave a bit tighter.”

Hobie felt like his mother teaching him to weave for the first time. He wanted to be tender and patient like her. To offer the kindness she had afforded him to you.

He looked up only to find you were already staring at him. Your faces were rather close for comfort and for once, Hobie looked you in the eyes. You were pretty, so very pretty, tragically so. How many men have looked at you and thought the very same thing before being dragged into the ocean never to be seen again? How many mothers have thought you a child and reached out to help you only to be taken from their families.

Hobie cleared his throat and moved away from you. “Ya should be good. Jus’ remember to keep i’ tight.” He moved back across from you and went to work on his own basket.

Things between you fell into silence. The strain of the straw, the waves against the side of the boat, the utter silence of night. Hobie remembered how it was to be alone with his mother before a fire, weaving, nimble fingers occasionally stroking his hair.

Your voice broke through the silence. It was strained and almost choking but it was in the distinct tune of the song his mother used to hum. You were trying to replicate it. Hobie recognized even so and froze in the middle of weaving in a piece of straw. He dropped his basket and looked at you, eyes wide and hostile. “How do ya know tha’?” He was quiet at first, hands curling into fists.

“I said, how do ya know that?!” He was yelling now, standing so swiftly that ke knocked over the lantern and shattered it. The flame went out, smothered by the glass shards landing on it. He snarled at you with a ferocious, righteous fury.

It was stupid of him to think he could get close to you, be kind to you. He should be grateful. You reminded him of just what you are. He was mistaken to think you could be anything more than what you were. You took his mother from him. How could he ever treat you with more than the bare minimum of kindness.

You whimpered, curling up and wrapping your arms around yourself. You meant no harm. With trembling hands you began to sign. ‘You sleep sing loud. Please no hurt me.’

You thought he was going to hurt you. You were fortunate that he was a man of his word. He swore to himself that no harm would be brought to anyone who sought refuge on his ship. That included you.

Hobie dragged his tongue along the soft inner flesh of his cheek and placed his face in the palms of his hands. You were still whimpering, curled up in a quivering ball in the dark. The stars watched the way you two fell apart at the slightest touch. All it took was a song for whatever semblance of friendship you two had to completely decay.

He marched away, stepping on his basket as he went, destroying it under his boot. Hobie murmured, almost growled at you.

“Go t’sleep, pearl. And don' come t’my door again."

𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱: @lovelyygirl8 @humungus-mythology-geek

[violetsiren90]

🌤☔️!!

Thank you for the ask, Yoon! I just love these 😊💕

I'm going to add a cut, because whenever I share my stuff, brevity escapes me ENTIRELY...😅🤷‍♀️

⛅: Favorite piece of dialogue in an WIP

I love this exchange between Hobi and Yoongi in one of my WTMS drabbles that I'm working on. (This drabble visits where Yoongi and MC are at in the same moment during their years apart, and Yoongi is meeting Hoseok for drinks):

Below the cut

"Alright, old buddy, what's got you down?" 

The slim, dark-haired young man slid into the booth across from Yoongi. The older man's eyes softened slightly, and his mouth quirked up into a small smile as he regarded his companion over a swig of Pacifico.

"Who says I'm down?" he asked in a mildly affronted tone, drawing a hand over his beer-slicked lips.

The other man's mouth broke into a toothy smile, his lips pulling into a heart-shaped grin as he let out a boisterous peal of laughter.

"You never call these days unless you are," he rejoined, grabbing a foggy acrylic standee from the center of the table and squinting at its small list of beverages. "Geez, they really don't have much of a selection here, do they?" 

Yoongi snorted.

"Since when are you an alcohol connoisseur? You don't even drink, Hoba."

"I do too!"

A waitress slid a food menu in front of Hoseok, who trailed wide eyes up her tattooed arm to her bright blue pixie cut with a thick swallow.

"Our mango ahi tacos are on special tonight," she hummed with a wink.

The young man's ears flushed a bright shade of crimson as he stammered something about passing on the food but wondering if they had any ciders. She pocketed her tongue in her cheek as she flicked her eyes to Yoongi.

"You hungry?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow and tilting a hip clad in low-slung cargo pants and a studded belt in his direction. Yoongi looked up at her and shook his head, taking another sip of beer.

"Hm, damn shame," she hummed, flicking her eyes over him a last time before sauntering back to the bar.

Hoseok tracked her every move with a slack jaw, craning his neck to watch her slip through the kitchen door before turning his face - features, still frozen in lascivious astonishment - back to his friend.

"Holy shit, hyung," he murmured, covering his mouth with both hands, "You could see her nipple piercings right through her shirt!"

Yoongi grunted in assent, trailing a cloudy gaze over the table's waxy surface as he picked at the bottle's damp label.

"You gonna get her number?"

"What?" Yoongi shifted in his seat, eyes refocusing on his friend.

Hoseok sighed.

"No, you're not. This is about her, isn't it?"

Yoongi glanced down at his beer again, then raised it to his lips and drained the bottle.

☔: Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?

I have one that I will probably never get around to, but that I like to daydream about from time to time: Pirates of the Caribbean via BTS.

Basically a reader-insert OT7 pirate AU that centers around a Namgi rivalry where Namjoon is the notorious captain of the bloodthirsty Bangtan crew, and Yoongi is his erstwhile first-mate (banished from the crew and now on a mission of revenge).

For the members in Namjoon's crew I always think of Jin as the cook a la Long John Silver (with the parrot, without the peg-leg), Hobi as Namjoon's new first-mate, and VMIN as crew members who are lovers AND are actually sirens Namjoon freed from human enslavement and who now crew Namjoon's ship out of loyalty and gratitude (wouldn't they be scary and sexy though???).

MC and Jungkook would fit in as strangers who end up on Yoongi's ship seeking your own ends (stowaways? captives?). There would definitely be romance involved, lol.

I'll probably never write it, but if anyone sees this and gets inspired, please feel free to steal the idea!

Thanks again for these asks, Yoon!! Love you!! 😘😘😘

If you want to send me an emoji or two, I'll answer about my WIP's!

[taechnological]

I’m all good ^^ A lot of good things are turning up in my life right now.

Oh, Sae! I wanted to ask you once you got back — since all the portfolios are done now, could you rank them according to your personal opinion on them?

aaaa love to hear things are going great for u !! keep that energy going~ ^^

and ooooh alright bts photo folio ranking according to me hmmm let's see~

7. on number 7 i'm placing seokjin's fisherman concept solely bc he decided to pass off the super tuna era as his photo folio as well 🤣 tho ngl the pirate jin and the CAPTAIN KIM LOOK HE GAVE US????

truly one of the best things to happen in the last year ngl 🫠

6. yoongi's travel boyfie shoot mmm THE RED HAIR THE BOYFIE VIBES THE DOMESTICITY OF THE MOMENT

if i was a more travel loving person i'd have chosen yoongi's shoot as my top choice fr

5. LISTEN JOON I'M SORRY but my brain stopped functioning as soon as i saw those tiddies in a tight black turtleneck freckles !!! in the sunlight !!! his smile 😍

4. just kim taehyung singlehandedly ruining every royal princes' career with just one (1) single photoshoot 😩

3. JUNG HOSEOKKKKKKK 🥵 listen it was very hard to choose between angelic deity hobi (those long lavender hair in a flower field oh 😍) and gatekeeper of hell jung hoseok the great 🥵 but i had to

2. park jimin and his GENDER OOF 😩🤌 i admit those black and white fits were CRAZY good but smth about the melancholy of seeing park jimin as a fallen artist here? true art

1. vampire jeon jungkook ftw

he stumped me good with this look ngl

[vulnonapix1234]

Pirate au lineup!

Or: my one piece brainrot is strong

More infos and a better picture under the cut

1) Captain Hobie Brown, or the man that spit a celestial dragon in the Face.

Who decides about the worth of a human?

Once a slave, Hobie is planning on the downfall of the world ordet and the celestial dragons. Despite his looks, he is an extremely intelligent and kindhearted individual.

2) Vice Captain Gwen Stacy, or the Woman with the body of snow

Who decides your fate?

The user of the snow-snow Fruit wasn't always a Pirate. Once, she was the loved son of a Marine Captain, before she took Hobies hand to change herself and the fate her father picked for her. Together with her crew, she became what she always wanted to be.

3. The Navigator Pavitr Prabhakar, or the prince of a lost country

Who decides to who lives and who dies?

A long time ago, he was the prince next in line to become the ruler of an entire country. Then, the world government made his home, his family, his people, his land and its history dissappear. As the sole survivor of a Buster call, he works together with his crew to take revenge.

4. The Medic Miles Morales, or the Traitor

Who decides who the hero is?

After the Marineford War, the former Marine Captain all but ran from the eyes of the seagull. The slaughter of his allys and enemies wasn't good or justified. he couldn't bear to work under the people that allowed such a carnage. As the user of the draw-draw fruit, he wishes to create a world where his crew and family can live in peace.

5. The Shipwright Peni Parker, or the steel Monster

What is the difference between human and weapon?

As user of the mecha-mecha fruit, Peni once had the ability to create and bring life to small robots. But then she lost her first creation, leading her to lose most of her abilities. That was till her crew found her and helped her reignite the spark in herself.

6) The Chronicler Margo Kess, or the woman that knows all

Who writes history ?

The search for the truth was always important for her. With the power of the word-word fruit, Margo could easily translate every script she came across. Together with her crew, she wants to uncover the history that is hidden or lost.