#pirate x marine

[dreanwitch]

Marine

Acordar de ressaca em um navio desconhecido não era estranho o suficiente, o pirata Portgas D. Ace também precisava estar deitado ao seu lado.

" Primeiro: o que exatamente era tudo aquilo? E... como as coisas tinham chegado naquele ponto mesmo? "

Digamos que o simples fato de uma capitã renomada da marinha acordar ao lado de um pirata procurado era minimamente incomum, mas o mais importante agora era colocar cabeça para funcionar e descobrir o porquê de tudo aquilo. Mesmo que a ressaca infernal viesse a tornar aquela simples tarefa em uma missão impossível.

| Ace x F!Reader | - | 11.000 palavras | - | Capítulo 1 |

Pela posição do sol no céu, deva para se chutar ser cerca de umas nove e meia da manhã. A jovem mal acordou e já foi respirando fundo, imaginando como teria força para se levantar e encarar mais um dia sob sua perspectiva. Foi enjoativo.

Acordar para a vida costumava ser a pior parte de passar horas e horas com a mente inquieta na companhia serceta de uma garrafa de rum. Postergando ao máximo sua ida para cama, com pensamentos inúteis acompanhados de uma bebedeira solitária. Perceber que se dormisse, acordaria para mais um dia ordinário tinha quase um gosto desesperador. Sua vida estava se tornando uma espiral em preto e branco que nunca chegava a lugar nenhum.

Ela ariu seus olhos pela primeira vez naquele dia, mas teve de os fechar logo em seguida. A luz do sol estava muito intensa.

A brisa gostosa da manhã no mar a envolvia, coagindo a jovem parar de pensar por alguns segundos para poder captar a manhã gostosa em meio ao mar aberto cheio de boas vibrações e esperanças puras, que apenas os jovens aventureiros cheios de sonhos engolidos pelo mar feroz, e apenas eles, carregam consigo.

Contudo, manter-se concentrada em coisas boas não foi uma tarefa fácil, não quando se estava em meio aos ventos fortes da Grand Line.

Assim que abriu os olhos novamente se viu os fechando em seguida. O dia estava lindo, mas ele já havia a derrotado. As nuvens quase inexistentes na imensidão azul e o céu estavam girando descontroladamente e além disso, respirar era difícil. Desnorteada e cega pelo excesso da claridade, ela procurou pelo boné que sempre mantinha em sua cabeça. Peça característica e caricata do imponente uniforme da marinha. Ela visava furtivamente fugir da luz do sol enquanto lutava contra a vontade de vomitar.

A mente estava branco, os únicos sinais que o cérebro dela captavam eram os efeitos colaterais da última bebedeira. Ela ainda não se recordava muito bem das coisas, mas já tinha informações suficientes para averiguar que aquela ressaca que estava por vir seria a pior que experiênciaria em toda sua vida.

No mínimo, a noite passada devia ter sido bem selvagem — ao menos foi o que presumiu de primeira.

O mais sábio agora era beber novamente. Manter-se bêbada e poderia de alguma forma ajudar com a ressaca infernal.

Contudo, havia algo de errado que não se encaixava de jeito nenhum. E não, não era o fato dela estar deitada no convés de um navio em Mar aberto com uma ressaca infernal, sentindo falta de ar. Até aí, nada muito novo, provavelmente logo logo seus subordinados começariam a repreende-la por dormir do lado de fora e ela iria fingir que estava lá para ver as estrelas, tentando ao máximo inutilmente mascarar o comportamento imprudente e abuso de álcool.

Após cobrir os olhos com o chapéu que estava na cabeça, notou que aquele em suas mãos não era seu estimado boné, então largou a garrafa de rum que estava segurando desde sabe se lá quando e usou a mão para erguer o bendito estranho chapéu dentro do seu campo de visão.

Focar foi uma tortura. Todos os seus sentidos pareciam estar extremamente conscientes a respeito de cada pequena ondulação do mar contra o casco do navio e das irregularidades na madeira. Um líquido ácido ameaçava constantemente fazer o caminho contrário direto do estômago até a boca e nem levantar-se por completo era possível.

Ao menos a sensação de morte que o ato de tentar se concentrar em algo a proporcionou não durou muito. Já que não foi de um todo complicado desvendar a quem pertencia aquele chapéu laranja (um acessório que ela particularmente acreditava ser de um estranho mal gosto). O couro laranja gasto, envolto por contas grossas de marfim avermelhado com o estranhos símbolos de prata só poderiam significar uma única pessoa em toda Grand Line.

Ele era um pirata novo. Novo e jovem, tinha cerca de sua idade e um enorme potencial de causar estragos. Um jovem capitão que havia rejeitado o posto de corsário e tinha o seu cartaz de procurado espalhado por todos os lugares: Portgas D. Ace.

Mas acreditem, o mais estranho nem foi o fato de estar em posse daquele ‘item’. Foi o fato dela erguer um pouco a cabeça no convés e perceber que o pr��prio dono, Portgas D. Ace em carne e osso, estava logo ao seu lado. Profundamente adormecido com a cabeça recostada no peito dela e babando de um jeito nojento entre os seios expostos pelos botões abertos da camisa azul.

Certo, o que diabos significava aquilo mesmo?

Ela piscou, confusa e estranhando toda a situação. Pelo menos, olhando pelo lado bom, havia encontrado seu boné, ele estava descansando em cima da cabeça do pirata.

Após dar uma olhada, identificou que que o boné uma vez foi banco estava sujo e com uma parte da aba completamente chamuscada, mas ela não poderia se importar menos. Rapidamente bateu ele na mão para limpar a poeira e colocou na cabeça, estar sem seu boné era o mesmo que estar nua.

Passos pesados ecoaram pelo convés do navio, a frequência deles era estranha; um gato gigantesco apareceu em seu campo de visão, o animal tinha uma espécie de olhar presunçoso, um cheiro estranho e, de fato, parecia assustador. A mulher no convés nem piscou ou ousou respirar enquanto a ele a avaliava.

Pacificamente, indo contra todas suas expectativas, o animal se apoiou nas patas dianteiras e lambeu a bochecha da marinheira duas vezes, ronronando. Então se deitou confortavelmente no chão de madeira logo ao lado, com sua calda balançando preguiçosa sob o sol.

As coisas poderiam ficar ainda mais estranhas em um único dia?

Devagar, ela soltou um gemido involuntário e molhou a garganta com a bebida. Ainda estava completamente cética a respeito da atual situação em que se encontrava.

Será que existe algum código para relatar oficialmente aquela situação aos colegas de guerra? Bom, qualquer coisa era só encaixar na categoria de sequestro e reportar. Mas ao mesmo tempo... que tremenda vergonha alegar ter sido sequestrada por um bando de piratas. O que os demais iriam pensar?

De toda forma… como as coisas chegaram naquele ponto mesmo? — ela colocou o cérebro encharcado de álcool para funcionar e fez um esforço para descobrir.

Ah sim! - algo estalou em sua cabeça e ela sorriu. - Tudo começou com a sua escapulida despretensiosa para aquela pequena ilha da Grand Line. O programa do dia era fugir do trabalho por algumas horinhas, nada demais, apenas beber um pouquinho longe de tudo e todos para pensar a respeito do que diabos estava fazendo da vida. Logo após fugir do próprio navio navio utilizando a caminhada na lua e roubar o bote de um navio pirata que foi interceptado por sua equipe.

Era comum para ela escapar as vezes para lamentar-se a respeito de como ela se sentia como um log pose quebrado, que não apontava para lugar nenhum. E estava tudo bem, desde que fosse longe de tudo e todos.

Encher a cara naquele barzinho de bebida fuleira longe da grande tropa naval que comandava era seu programa preferido. Lá ela era não era uma jovem capitã da marinha, nem uma oficial prodígio com um futuro brilhante, era apenas uma jovem qualquer se embebedando enquanto podia. Sempre no mesmo bar, no meio do mais absoluto nada.

Sempre o visitava todas às vezes, apesar de viver dizendo que a bebida era horrível.

Era só mais um dia onde estava fazendo essas coisas de adulto e tudo mais. Durante um momento, lembrou-se rapidamente de sua família. O que sua vozinha faria se soubesse que ela estava fugindo do trabalho aquela hora do dia? Era de fato a vergonha da profissão. Não era merecedora do temido e respeitado nome pelo qual era conhecida. Mas... faz parte… a jovem gostava de pensar que boa parte daqueles oficiais de prestígio também não gostaram muito do trabalho que faziam.

Até então tudo estava ocorrendo em ordem, mas aí houve aquele aviso no denden-mushi! Isso, foi isso! Seu denden-mushi começou a apitar como um louco! Então o QG mais próximo começou a sinalizar sobre os piratas de Spade, os novatos que estavam chamando muita atenção por onde passavam na Grand line. O grupo que havia se tornado a mais nova obsessão de Isuka, sua antiga colega de guerra e assunto do momento nos QG's da marinha.

Eles estavam por perto, foram vistos seguindo rota a caminho daquela ilha depois de um confronto com a marinha em alto mar, onde em meio a trocas de tiros de canhão afundaram o navio do governo mundial.

Ela não estava trabalhando agora, mas como “supostamente” ainda estava cumprindo seu horário, seguiu o fluxo e terminou metida naquela situação.

Parando para relembrar, não havia sequer chegado a refletir muito profundamente a respeito do que estava fazendo. Apenas respondeu o chamado no calor do momento.

Não exatamente se importava com o trabalho, seus dias na marinha estavam ficando cada dia mais insuportáveis, executava as missões com indiferença e escapulia para algum canto sempre que era possível. Entretanto, não conseguia simplesmente ignorar e fugir para longe da responsabilidade que pusera sob os próprios ombros, um vez que havia tinha decidido por conta própria ser uma marinheira.

O capitão daqueles piratas era um peixes dos grandes surgindo em sua rede. Uma vez que capturasse o criminoso conseguiria ainda mais prestígio na instituição do governo mundial onde, apesar de ter a tenra idade, ocupava o cargo de capitã. De quebra, ainda deixaria toda a família orgulhosa e então todos ficariam felizes. Não era nada pessoal, apenas negócios.

E então… foram o quê? Dois, três dias de confronto? Ela não tinha bastante certeza dessa parte da história. Apenas digamos que o encontro dos dois usuários de frutos do diabo foi bem acalorado.

O famoso jovem capitão era bem orgulhoso, foi fácil conseguir comprar uma briga diretamente contra ele. Inclusive, pensar em como foi fácil provocar o temível Portgas D. Ace arrancou da jovem uma risada enquanto ela olhava de canto para ele deitado. Suas costas queimadas pelos raios de sol após dias e dias no convés do navio navio alto mar ainda estavam um pouco avermelhadas, fazendo com que todas aquelas pequenas manchas que ele tinha pelo corpo se destacassem ainda mais.

Ela se pegou enumerando cada uma delas, distraída do seu objetivo inicial que era se lembrar de como havia parado naquela situação. No momento, não importava mais, tudo o que em sua mente pensava era nas sardas nas codtas dele. As grandes, as pequenas, as falhadas, as escuras, todas elas.

A tarefa gradualmente foi ficando cada vez mais impossível, as sardas pequenininhas estavam a deixando perdida. A jovem utilizava a unha do indicador para traçar um caminho entre elas enquanto as contava em um murmúrio, mas logo todas as sardas começaram a se mover e ela sentiu uma terrível vertigem.

Cerrando os dentes para evitar o vômito iminente de vir naquele momento, ela puxou um pano que estava no chão logo ao lado e cobriu a boca com ele. Olhando bem, não era um trapo qualquer. Era uma camisa verde-claro, de mangas que estava com os botões abertos, faltando dois ou três. Observando o estado do capitão que estava de torço desnudo não foi tão difícil juntar dois mais dois.

Ela também percebeu estar com um pé descalço, mas não tinha a mínima ideia de onde havia ido parar o par do sapato e não possuía nenhuma pista que a ajudasse a descobrir.

Após a lição aprendida, ela deixou sua distração com as sardas de Ace de lado, fechou os olhos, bebeu mais um pouco e voltou a usar seus dois neurônios restantes para pensar.

Foi uma boa briga. A pedido de seu capitão, a tripulação dos piratas Spade não se envolveu no confronto. O plano inicial da jovem era terminar com todos eles após incapacitar a ameaça principal, pedir reforço para escolta e então voltar a beber e seguida seu dia. Contudo, o confronto não foi exatamente fácil; o seu hábito de sair por aí subestimando a tudo e a todos com certeza não era nada digno de glória. Portgas não estava ganhando fama à toa e ela descobriu da maneira mais difícil dolorida.

E por falar no pirata… A cara de Ace veio na mente dela mais uma vez. A imagem de sua reação quando ela tirou o boné branco da cabeça no meio da briga, virou ele e então balançou de um lado para o outro em sinal de rendição foi digna de se emoldurar em um quadro.

Ofegante, cansado, porém continuamente alerta, Ace se manteve exitante e em posição de ataque, assistindo-na agir despreocupadamente e transbordando de desconfiança.

— Ei, o que diabos você pensa que está fazendo? — com uma expressão séria no rosto e os punhos em chamas, Ace a questionou.

— Por acaso você não sabe o que é bandeira branca? — ela dá sua resposta afiada de forma muito tranquila, considerando que até poucos segundos atrás estavam em meio a uma luta mortal, ou quase isso.

Seu imponente casaco branco com a palavra "Justiça" bordado nas costas é jogado no chão e ela se senta sobre ele. A marinheira coloca o boné de volta no lugar, contatando a marinha através do seu denden-mushi para avisar que estava fora da perseguição ao capitão Portgas e indicando uma falsa localização que os piratas supostamente seguiram. Alegando que a partir daquele momento não estava mais encarregada o caso dos piratas Spade. - uma vergonha a sua reputação impecável diga-se de passagem.

Logo em seguida a marinheira ergueu as mãos na altura da cabeça, demonstrando de boa-fé suas intenções. Ela até tentou sorrir, mas não foi lá um ato muito charmoso, já que apenas um segundo antes havia limpado o nariz e cuspido um sangue bem grosso misturado com saliva. Ela deu o seu melhor para ser amistosa pelo menos.

Ace ergueu a sobrancelha de longe e não moveu um músculo. Ele ainda estava registrando o que estava acontecendo, podia muito bem ser algum tipo de truque, quem lhe garantia que não.

— Qual é, punho de fogo? Estamos nessa tem quanto tempo? Tô morrendo de fome. Bora dar uma trégua e filar um rango. Depois você se rende à "justiça" e eu te jogo na prisão. — desta vez ela gritou, bastante mal-humorada e apontando o dedo na cara dele.

Não tinha tempo para os conflitos internos e receios de um pirata qualquer. Estava desanimada demais para concluir a tarefa, com fome, cansada e, realmente, pensava que não valia mais apena todo o esforço para pegar um procurado. Bom, quando que isso valeu o esforço mesmo?

Se antes seu ânimo para trabalhar estava baixo, depois de toda essa confusão ele ultrapassa os níveis negativos. Por que tinha de ser sempre aquela maldita tortura todas às vezes? lutas eram divertidas e emocionantes, havia aquele senso de perigo, a adrenalina, a emoção de encontrar um oponente a altura de se superar. Só que sem senso de um propósito firme, nada daquilo fazia sentido.

— Eh? — percebendo o quão séria ela estava a respeito daquilo, o queixo do pirata caiu e ele gritou uma exclamação exaltada. Nada expressava bem a confusão que ele sentiu no momento.

Ela não devia estar mesmo falando sério, não é? Mas então por qual raio de motivos… aquele pedido de bandeira branca para um intervalo era realmente sério? - Ace exclamou mentalmente, incrédulo, dando um passo para trás.

— Já que é assim, beleza então. Mas você não vai me render à justiça. Eu que vou acabar com você, sacou, marinheira? — Ace retrucou, ainda confuso, mas levando na esportiva. Aquilo era muito incomum... mas ele não negaria que estava morrendo de fome também.

A marinheira devia ser bem louca mesmo e não ligar para nada (Ou isso, ou era ela muito esperta para tentar um plano assim. Bom, ou muito burra também. Era uma possibilidade, porque se aquilo fosse mesmo um plano, ela achava que ele iria cair em uma coisa tão suspeita?). Ace quase ficou ofendido por pensar que ela estava subestimando tanto a sua inteligência. E pensou em retirar o aceite mas a ideia não vingou.

Dentro de um hora Ace já estava completamente confortável na companhia dela enquanto procuravam o que comer e um lugar para sentar que, de preferência, não estivesse destruído por causa da briga que eles estavam tendo momentos atrás.

Quem diria que um pirata procurado e uma oficial da marinha se sentaram de frente pro fogo, conversando e comendo um animal assado que eles caçaram juntos. Descansando de uma briga e isso tarde da noite.

No mínimo incomum.

— Ei, seu pirata, você bebe? Tenho um rum ótimo comigo. É daqui da ilha mesmo. Venho aqui sempre, eles tem a melhor bebida que você pode encontrar na Grand line. — ela ofereceu a garrafa em um tom desafiador, sorrindo e olhando para o pirata com desdém enquanto bebia sem pestanejar.

— Qual pirata que se preza não bebe? Passa pro pai aqui, dona marinheira. — ele cantarola de volta, pretensioso. Ace, devido ao orgulho, incomodava-se um pouco com a ideia de dividir aquela bebida com ela devido a sua crença de partilhar apenas com companheiro, mas não era do tipo levava desaforo para casa. Assim, o pirata sorriu de volta, ajeitando o chapéu na cabeça e tomou dela a garrafa. Era mesmo forte, muito forte.

A bebida desceu queimando e envolvendo todo seu interior em um abraço caloroso e viciante, tão quente quanto as chamas de sua mera-mera no mi. A mente do pirata ficou turva e tonta, ele deu uma última mordida no pedaço de carne salgada que tinha em mãos e mandou para dentro mais três goladas secas da bebida, lambendo os lábios. Descuidadamente deixando o líquido escorrer pela beirada da boca, tendo consciência de que ela estava assistindo atenta. Ace sentiu-se vitorioso.

Meio zonzo, jogou a garrafa de volta para a dona. Limpou a boca com as costas das mãos e voltou a comer desenfreadamente.

— E não é você tem culhões? — ela elogiou, erguendo o dedo em direção a ele e dando de ombros. — Mas sinto lhe informar, pirata, eu sou bem melhor. — Então entonou a garrafa e tomou o restante da bebida de uma vez só. Terminando com uma risada bêbada.

Eles continuaram a comer, as provocações cessaram e, vez ou outra, ambos trocavam algumas palavras. Conversando cada vez mais com o passar do tempo e a medida que o álcool tomava conta da mente de ambos.

O clima estava leve e o cheiro de maresia preenchia todos os quatro cantos da ilha. Os grilos estavam cricrilando uma sinfonia tranquila. Depois de uma longa conversa fiada Ace parecia cansado, olhava as chamas crepitantes com seus olhos castanhos bem baixos. Murmurando baixinho uma antiga e arrastada canção pirata e segurando um generoso pedaço de carne. A jovem conhecia bem aquela música, e apreciava a voz do pirata que a cantava. A letra era sobre um caso de amor proibido e impossível que cruzou todo o novo mundo e terminou nas espumas de uma praia em uma ilha distante.

A marinheira soltou um suspiro. Bêbada, a jovem puxou o lenço da camisa de uniforme tentando afrouxar o nó em sua garganta. Amarrou o adorno azul em volta da perna e, após dar uma olhada bem cumprida na direção do pirata, quase um pouco tímida, ela deixou-se levar pela emoção do momento.

Baseando-se no laço de confiança que apenas dois bêbados que estão enchendo a cara juntos podem compartilhar, ela fez um pedido:

— Ei, ei, Portgas, conta pra mim uma história de pirata? — ela pediu curiosa com os olhos brilhando.

Ace parou. Apoiou as mãos no chão atrás das costas e a observou, calado.

Ela aguardou ele começar. Estava com isso na cabeça fazia muito tempo. O plano inicial, era perguntar se ele tinha alguma história legal de pirata, para só então pedir para que ele lhe contasse, mas fazer enrolação não era bem o seu forte, ainda mais enquanto estava bêbada.

— Hein? — o pirata respondeu de boca cheia, voltando toda a sua atenção em direção à marinheira.

— Uma história de alguma aventura sua, idiota. — Ela solta uma risada e explica. — Não tem muito tempo que é pirata, né? Mas você deve ter algo pra contar. — ela presume.

Conhecia seu nome tinha algum tempo, Isuka fazia questão de a cada dez palavras que saiam de sua boca onze seriam o nome de Ace seguido de diversas ameacas de prisão. Só que havia algo mais que fazia com que a marinahiera se sentisse curiosa, havia algo no fundo do olhar de Ace que emanava aquela sensação ou a impressão de um homem do mar, o sentimento de um espírito aventureiro simpático, convidativo que a fazia ter vontade de se aproximar. Era curioso e ela gostou muito.

Desde de que se encontrou com ele pela primeira vez naquela ilha, a pergunta inocentemente pairou por sua mente. "O que será que ele pode ter a contar sobre sua jornada?" - alguns piratas tinham esse ar, eles eram pessoa livres e espirituosas e sempre que os via aquele questionamento pairava por sua cabeça.

Aquile aspectos dos homens e das mulheres do mar sempre a cativou graciosamente. A forma que aqueles olhares destemidos brilhavam com esperança e ambição. O contato com esses indivíduos, poder cruzar com eles em sua jornada (e ser o ponto final da jornada de alguns deles) em seu coração, era a melhor parte de trabalhar como marinheira.

— Infelizmente é verdade que minha jornada começou a pouco tempo, mas devo ter mesmo uma ou duas histórias. — Ace admite com uma ponta de frustração na voz, ele ainda tinha muito o que conquistar e muitos a quem derrotar para ser reconhecido. Ele cruza os braços atrás da cabeça, relaxado. Em seguida aponta o dedo para ela, brincando com o poder da fruta logia:

— Eu só não sei como a vida de um pirata iria ser interessante para uma marinheira.

— Apenas para esclarecer, é capitã pra você. Não sou uma simples marinheira qualquer. — riu em um tom desafiante. Não era hora de ser soberba, mas escapuliu. Ela inconscientemente se foi em direção a ele, pousando as mãos no colo, hipnotizada com as chamas na ponta do dedo de Ace, movendo-se de um lado para o outro imitando o símbolo do infinito.

Ace soltou uma risada com a pequena brincadeira. Estalou os dedos e apagou as chamas, olhando para ela, descontraído.

A marinheira balançou a cabeça negativamente. Recompondo-se, fez um bico e cruzou os braços longe do pirata.

Olhando para ele de canto, proclamou:

— Okay, se você faz tanta questão assim de saber… essa informação é para o meu futuro relatório. Apenas me conte tudo o que tiver, eu tenho tempo de sobra. — a jovem até disfarçou um pouco do interesse, mas claro que não funcionou nadinha. Ace percebeu facilmente como seus olhos se iluminaram como os de uma criança curiosa.

— Tudo bem então, capitã. — Ele topou com hm sorriso audacioso e foi divertido. Boa parte das histórias não pareciam ser exatamente reais, mas desvendá-las para escutar o pirata contornando o assunto, ou esperar que ele mesmo se desmentisse e em seguida continuasse contando os seus relatos épicos eram bem divertidos.

Talvez fosse porque depois de 8 garrafas e meia (…ou foram nove? Não fazia diferença) ambos estivessem mais para lá do que pra cá. Então nada do que falavam era realmente algo a se levar a sério.

Ace conseguia ser ótimo contando histórias. Encenando todas as situações, gritando, fingindo-se de ferido e até falecido para dar mais realidade aos próprios relatos. Em uma das vezes ele chegou até mesmo a cair e não levantar mais (o que fez com que a marinheira entrasse em desespero e o agarasse pelos ombros as lágrimas, achando que ele realmente havia ido de Dave Back Roger). Isso, antes de notar que ele apenas estava dormindo mesmo.

Aconteceu bem mais de uma vez após isso e ela pensou que nunca iria se acostumar com aquilo, mas não conseguiu parar de rir por nenhum segundo.

— Então, lá estava eu! Tinha acabado de começar, estava sozinho na Grand Line com nada mais do que um barquinho a vela e um gargalo de garrafa quebrado, prestes a enfrentar uma caravela tripulada com três gigantes e meio!

— Três e meio? — ela perguntou espantada, afastando-se um pouco para trás quando o pirata que levantou a voz, sorrindo orgulhoso do seu feito, inclinou-se diante dela. Atenta, a marinheira bebe a bebida que está em mãos e nem mesmo pisca esperando pelo clímax que virá a seguir.

— Nah, na verdade, talvez fosse só um. — após a verdade Anticlimática, Ace dá de ombros com indiferença e coça o nariz.

— Um gigante ainda é um gigante, eles são fortes, grandes, fortes e grandes, com mãos enormes, pés grandes… — ela começa a divagar, fugindo do assunto inicial lembrando de seus pouco encontros com aquelas figuras enormes. Ace ergue um dedo e volta a chamar sua atenção, explicando:

— Bom, é possível que fosse só um cara grande, gordo e bem, beeem feio. Sinceramente, eu não lembro direito agora.

Ela começa a rir da sinceridade dele. — Deixa ver se adivinho, você também estava bêbado e em terra firme. — zombou.

— É verdade que eu tava bêbado, mas eu estava no mar, eu tenho quase cem por cento de certeza. — ele ergueu o dedo no nariz dela, defendendo-se.

— Pelo menos você estava lá. Ao que me parece, você realmente já fez um par de coisas interessantes. — achando graça, ela o encarou segurando o queixo com os punhos.

— Eu ainda estou novo, então por enquanto isso já é bom. Mas você ainda ouvirá muito o nome Portgas D. Ace por aí, capitã! Quer dizer… isso se você desistir da ideia de me trancar em Inpel down. — ele lembrou — Minha aventura está só começando.

— Olha, eu posso pensar no seu caso. — ela riu.

Assim, Ace se sentou novamente apenas para se levantar logo em seguida e então contou mais sobre suas aventuras no mar. Seus relatos marítimos eram contos repletos de um sincretismo em um ato bom demais que parecia até ensaiado.

Mesmo estando na cara que tudo não passava da recontagem de algumas histórias bem famosas por aí, e que ele não estava sendo muito sincero tudo ainda era muito gostoso de se ouvir, havia se dado bem com o pirata. Ela os escutou com os olhos brilhando, riu, emocionou-se e acrescentou diversos comentários curiosos.

Então... começou a ficar mais pessoal. Ele falou sobre cada um dos membros da tripulação; sobre como eles enfrentavam navios da marinha e embarcaram em aventuras pela Grand Line, fazendo apenas só que desse na telha.

Ace contou-lhe sobre como ganhou seus poderes de fruto do diabos e como havia passado dias preso em uma ilha deserta devido a isso. Além de como ganhou, de quebra, um grande amigo e companheiro durante esse tempo difícil. Também lhe falou sobre um passado mais simples e divertido vivido no East Blue. Suas aventuras com os irmãos juntando tesouros com os irmãos, irritando DanDan, fugindo dos punhos do amor de seu velho avô e sonhando com o futuro em que eles conquistariam os mares.

A aquela altura não se sabiam que horas eram, mas os dois tinham certeza que era tarde. E, em um instante de silêncio que surgiu após uma extensa e enérgica conversa, ambos suspiraram ao mesmo tempo, exaustos.

A jovem marinheira que encarava o fogo com o rosto apoiado nas mãos, olhou de canto para o pirata sentado ao seu lado e casualmente perguntou:

— Portgas, por que você quis ser pirata?

Pelo pouco tempo que a marinheira conheceu o pirata ela soube que ele era do tipo orgulhoso, sonhador. Que parecia esperar se destacar encontrando algum tesouro lendário, ou matando um pirata famoso. De fato, cl��ssico.

No fundo, bem no fundo, parecia a ver um pouco mais além disso, mas ela não sabia dizer se era realmente verdade ou se aquela impressão não passava de um fruto da sua imaginação.

Ace abaixou a cabeça e olhou para ela de volta fazendo um bico. Assim ambos se encararam por alguns segundos, enquanto o pirata pensava a respeito de como responder aquela pergunta. Apoiando a mão que segurava uma garrafa de vidro em cima do joelho dobrado, Ace inclinou-se para o lado da jovem colocando a não em forma de concha ao lado dos lábios e sussurrou:

— Vou te falar, mas é segredo tá?

— Tá, tá. Adoro um segredo. Pode confiar que sou um túmulo. — ela acenou, fazendo um zíper em volta da boca, super séria. Sussurrando aquelas palavras em resposta, esperando ansiosa pela grande revelação.

Ace abre um sorriso presunçoso e declara:

— Quero a cabeça do barba branca! Assim, uma vez superando o inimigo do Gol D. Roger eu vou ser maior do que o rei dos piratas! — Ace afirmou seu sonho mais louco alegremente, olhando para a marinheira com confiança.

Ela para, pisca repetidamente, inclina a cabeça um pouco para a direita e encara o pirata com atenção, processando a informação expressa com tanta confiança por Potgas.

A jovem enfim decide que o mais sensato a se fazer naquela situação é explodir em risos até a barriga doer. Não é que ele fosse fraco, mas era do barba branca que Ace estava falando. O fodendo barba branca. Ace era mesmo um cara engraçado e muito bêbado também, para sair falando uma coisa dessas.

Era hilário ouvir alguém falando que iria arrancar a cabeça do velho Edward Newgate tal como se dissesse que iria matar um fulano qualquer. Nem seus superiores mais respeitados da instituição do governo mundial se atreveriam a declarar de forma tão banal um objetivo tão absurdo. A imprudência do jovem era admirável e o tamanho dos seus sonhos realmente invejável. Ela suspirou enquanto pensava, admirando o pirata sob a luz das estrelas.

— Você vai morrer se peitar um Yonkou. Que coisa de doido! Teve essa ideia sozinho ou te ajudaram a pensar nisso? Sei que tem muito masoquista por aí, mas você passou do ponto um tiquinho, camarada. — ela zombou, mas pelo menos ela admirava a confiança que ele tinha em si mesmo.

— Não me agoura! — Ace deu um empurrão nela com o ombro, envergonhado e bravo. Coçou o nariz sem graças e então pensou em uma forma de desconversar. Assim, desviando do insulto bêbado que recebeu.

Depois de acalmar seu ataque de risos ela sorriu largo, encarou Ace com uma expressão sonhadora e claramente bêbada, declarou:

— Se bem que... se for você, acho que talvez tenha uma chance, uma bem pequena. Só me promete que se encontar com o velho bigodudo, você vai me contar tudo sobre. — ela sorriu despreocupadamente, empurrando sua garrafa de rum em direção a ele para um brinde que firmaria aquela promessa.

Ace não exitou em bater a garrafa dele em direção a dela. Era muito gostoso encontrar alguém que acreditasse em sua capacidade de alcansar seus desejos mais profundos. Ainda mais que soasse tão sincera assim. O pirata sentiu-se feliz. — Nessa mesma ilha, nesse mesmo lugar, com essa mesma bebida. — Ace marcou e ela assentiu, sorrindo. Então ambos brindaram e beberam.

— Agora, falando sério, — ele cruzou as mãos atrás da cabeça e pareceu relaxado, bebendo um bocado e aumentando o tom da voz para se esclarecer de maneira confiante:

— Eu apenas decidi ser pirata por que eu quis. Precisa de motivo melhor? Foi a vida que eu escolhi.

— Sei, sei. Me engana que eu gosto. — a marinheira nem mesmo piscou, acenando para ele, crente que Portgas mentia que nem sentia.

— Tá bom, mas e você? — ele quis saber e virou o jogo.

A marinheira fez uma careta e olhou para o pirata, ambos voltaram a se encarar como anteriormente, agora mais de perto, a ponto das abas dos chapéus tocarem uma na outra, um toque tímido que foi chegando devagar e os assustou ao encostar.

— Por que quis ser da marinha? — Ace questionou novamente, agora baixinho e olhando na direção oposta da dela. Esperando uma resposta que envolvesse esperanças heróicas, cheias do famigerado sonho da justiça ideal.

De certa forma era até meio fofo. Ela parecia ser meio desse tipo... ou quem sabe, para homenagear um herói que marcou sua infância, assim como aquela marinheira dos cabelos de fogo que vivia na cola do seu bando.

Ela cerrou o cenho, verdadeiramente pensando em como responder aquela pergunta, mas ao encarar aquela questão chegou à conclusão de que não sabia respondê-la e a nova descoberta a deixou assustada. Foi como se um alçapão houvesse sido aberto sob seus pés, levando-na para dentro de um buraco escuro e sem fundo.

— Eu… — ela desviou os olhos, propondo-se a encarar o resto do fogo que ia se esvaindo.

Pensando bem, aquela foi a primeira vez em toda sua vida que a questionaram algo do tipo, o que era até engraçado, como que ela mesma não havia feito a mesma pergunta para si mesma?

O mais impressionante para a marinheira era como sua mente estava completamente em branco, procurando loucamente por uma resposta apropriada, mesmo após perceber que não sabia porque havia escolhido aquela vida que a fazia mais infeliz do que qualquer outra coisa.

— Eu… eu não sei?… — sua resposta à pergunta do novo colega soou mais como uma pergunta que ela fazia para si mesma. — Eu nunca pensei sobre isso. Nasci e fui criada dentro da ilha de Marineford, acho que nunca nem cheguei a pensar em outras opções. Quer dizer… o que mais eu poderia fazer, né? — ela divagou, longínqua. Não era segredo que não gostava muito do trabalho, agora muito menos do que no início, mas não esperava chegar naquele ponto. Parando para pensar, não fazia muito sentido mesmo.

— E eu lá vou saber? A vida é sua, não minha. — Ace a respondeu com indiferença, soltando um bocejo antes de dar uma olhada em como ela estava, intrigado. — Mas sério? Nunca pensou em fazer mais nada de diferente? Cuidar de um bar, trabalhar com alguma coisa? Eles devem precisar de quem trabalha fora da marinha dentro daquela base monstruosa, né?

A marinheira estava silenciosa, mexendo nas brasas do fogo com um gravetinho, pensando.

— Dá um tempo, se eu tô falando que não. — ela inflou as bochechas, irritada. Então suavizou a expressão e deu de ombros. — Sabe, apenas me pareceu natural me tornar aprendiz também e ir pra marinha igual todo mundo. Sempre me falaram que eu tinha talento pra isso. Além disso, todos na minha família são marinheiros, bom, todos mesmo o tio Bruno. Mas ninguém fala dele mesmo. Cresci vendo, ouvindo e até mesmo respirando a marinha. — ela deu sua justificativa com sinceridade, ameaçando o pirata com o graveto em chamas, irritada por ele interromper a sua linha de pensamentos.

Ace fechou o punho em volta das chamas do graveto e se irritou com ela de volta.

— Por que ficou brava comigo do nada? Maluca.

— Eu não tô brava. E o maluco é você! — ela agarrou a gola aberta da camisa dele.

— Eu não. — em resposta, Ace gritou de volta e segurou a gola da camisa azul que a marinhiera usava.

— Você sim.

— Eu não.

— Você sim.

— Eu não! — com as testas coladas e soltando fumaça pelos ouvidos, Ace parou por um momento, meio confuso.

— Ei, ei. Espera-se um segundo… do que a gente tava falando mesmo? — o pirata questiona, olhando no fundo dos olhos da marinheir. Percebendo o sentimento de raiva se esvair das janelas brilhantes e dar lugar a dúvida.

O pirata e a marinheira abrem a boca ao mesmo tempo, para falar, mas permanecem em um momento de silêncio, só para ter certeza de qual foi o motivo da discussão mesmo, mas não conseguem lembrar. No final, a Capitã da de ombros e apenas responde:

— Sei lá.

E com tudo aquilo parecendo uma perda de tempo os dois se soltam e caem na risada, indo logo beber um pouco mais. Parece o mais natural a se fazer, em seguida, voltam a se sentar no chão lado a lado.

— Ah! Lembrei! — Ace exclama. Bate o punho na mão na aberta e vira para o lado, procurando olhar para a marinheira. — Sabe, o meu velho… ele é um oficial da marinha, um desses fodões, sabe?

— Seu velho… tipo seu pai? — ela imagina um velho que se parece com o homem ao seu lado, inconscientemente levando o assunto para outro lado. — Se é assim eu devo conhecê-lo… Quem é? Não é querendo me gabar, mas eu conheço um monte desses figurões. O almirante de frota, Sengoku me adora.

— Não, credo. Não. — Ace balança a cabeça de um lado para o outro, negando veementemente e a interrompe. — Tá mais pra… tipo meu avô ou algo assim? Mas bem mais ou menos. Ele me criou quando era criança e depois me jogou com uns bandidos por aí. — Ace está incerto.

O pirata não sabe o que parece pior, o fato de ser filho do maior criminoso do mundo ou pensar que o velho Garp poderia ser seu pai (ou avô) biológico. Todas as possibilidades eram igualmente terríveis.

Depois de se perder na conversa mais uma vez, ele encara a marinheira de canto e continua o assunto:

— Bom, ele vivia brigando comigo e com meu irmão pra gente entrar na marinha e nem por isso eu entrei. Sempre quis ser pirata. Afinal, a vida é minha, quem decide como viver ela sou eu. Vou atrás daquilo que acredito que seja certo e o que eu quero. Eu não sei por qual motivo nasci, mas acho que vivendo minha vida uma hora eu descubro isso. Apenas procuro não ter arrependimentos.

— Uau. Tem um criminoso procurado me passando sabão e dando conselhos de vida. Devo ter chegado no fundo do poço mesmo. — ela zombou da própria situação com um certo amargor na língua. — Se bem que eu nunca pensei sobre isso... e eu também nem sei o que quero. Na verdade, acho que nunca nem tentei descobrir. Então talvez você tenha esse direito mesmo.

— Vai fazendo coisas que gosta, uma hora você descobre. — ele sugeriu. — Além do mais, de onde eu venho costumam dizer que: pra quem não sabe o que quer, qualquer coisa serve.

— Foi assim pra você? — a marinheira ergue uma sobrancelha, curiosa.

— Claro que não. Eu sempre tive um objetivo bem claro.

— Oh! Valeu. — Ela cruzou o s braços e soltou um muxoxo fininho, chateada. Ficou em silêncio e pôs-se a pensar um pouco.

— Vai me dizer que você não sabe do que gosta? — Ele olhou para ela com desconfiança.

— Eu... eu não sei. Mas você me olhando assim também não me ajuda a pensar, sabia? — ela explode, bufando. Deita no chão com os braços esticados e, erguendo os pés para o alto, põe-se a olhar para o céu. Estalando a língua no céu da boca e imitando o barulho dos ponteiros de um relógio, decidindo não pensar em nada difícil.

— Olha, eu gosto muito de beber, mas acho que não conta.

Ace deita ao lado dela no chão, rindo. Os dois olham para o céu estrelado por alguns segundos, em silêncio. Então o pirata a chama:

— Ei, tem algo que tá na minha cabeça faz um tempinho. Não quero te ofender nem nada, mas você nunca pensou em ser, sei lá? Pirata? — Ace pergunta de mansinho, como quem não quer nada. Então ela vira o pescoço bruscamente em direção a ele e os dois se encaram. Ela consegue ver nos olhos dele que aquele questionamento vem de uma dúvida sincera. Só a ideia fazia seu estômago reviraram em ansiedade e as mãos suarem.

Ele não podia nem fazer um quatro sem cair de bunda, mas havia percebido como os olhos dela estavam brilhantes quando a marinheira escutou as meias verdades sobre suas aventuras. Ou até mesmo como ela parecia animada falando a respeito dos grandiosos piratas aventureiros com quem havia tido a oportunidade de conversar dentro da prisão de maior segurança do governo nacional… dos com quem teve oportunidade de brigar, ou dos quem era fã.

— Pirata? Eu? — ela aponta para si mesma com o polegar, encarando o moço com incredulidade. Pareceu uma piada. Entretanto, o pirata procurado continua:

— É. Você. Você parecia tão interessada nessa vida bandida. E eu acho que, se me permite dizer, pelo jeito que você fala, nem parece que você gosta tanto assim da marinha mesmo, então não vai fazer diferença, né? — seu ponto de vista é simplista. — O que ainda está mantendo você aqui, além da responsabilidade que essa sua função põe sobre você? Até onde eu vejo, você não é uma das marinheiras mais entusiasmadas que já conheci. — ele dá de ombros. Em sua cabeça fazia pleno sentido. — Não é todo marinheiro que para uma captura para chamar um pirata pra beber.

Ela olha bem fundo nos olhos dele, sentindo a sinceridade do seu ponto de vista e sente-se derrotada. Seus argumentos foram instigantes e fazem com que a marinheira reflita por um breve momento enquanto bebe.

— Você não está totalmente errado, eu não exatamente adorooooo, adoro, amo de coração, entende? Os marinheiros não são bem os mocinhos da história. Eu não sou idiota para acreditar que toda essa propaganda de justiça seja verdadeira e sincera e também não sou burra para achar que os piratas são heróis. Mas pensa, ser a única mancha negra em meio a gerações e mais gerações de marinheiros? Acho que todos ficaram meio desapontados. — é nisso em que primeiro pensa.

— E o tio Bruno? — Ace questiona, pois se bem lembrava, ela havia comentado que esse tio não era marinheiro.

— Primeiro, não falamos do tio Bruno. E isso já tem mais de 20 anos. Ele é da época dos meus pais.

— Credo, que família rancorosa. — ele apontou desapontado, questionando como ela sequer sabia do tal tio Bruno se ninguém falava dele. Mas isso era assunto para outra conversa de bêbado. — Mas que você não gosta e dá pra ver, heim. — Ace aponta tomando a bebida dela e engolindo.

— Eu apenas não queria ser uma grande decepção. Prefiro deixar o cargo de desgosto da família sendo ocupado pelo meu tio. — Ela desconversa. Ace a observa desapontado e pensa que não vai mais insistir no assunto. Ela já havia respondido. Uma pena que o sentimento acabasse se tornando grilhões dela, família não deveria ser assim, não família de verdade. Seu semblante se torna triste e o pirata lembra do irmão mais novo deixado no east blue.

— Como é sua família, Portgas? — ela questiona para fugir do clima de enterro, lembrando que ele havia mencionado sobre o irmão e um cara que ele disse ser o "velho dele".

Ace olha para o horizonte e sorri. — Tenho um irmão da mesma idade, mas ele faleceu muito jovem. E um mais novo, mas não é de sangue. Sempre achei que ele fosse um barulhento, pé no saco. Mas sabe que eu sinto falta dele? — e riu. — Inclusive, era nele em quem pensava agora. Te falei deles antes do Luffy, lembra?

Ela sorri assentindo, recordando as histórias de infância que ele havia contado. A ternura com que ele fala do irmão está muito mais do que perceptível e a marinheira não deixa de pensar em como, apesar de não serem parentes de sangue, aqueles dois tem sorte de ser a família um do outro.

— Entendo o sentimento.

— Capitã, por que não se tornou uma pirata? Aí você poderia viver as próprias aventuras ao invés de ficar perguntando para os outros por suas histórias. — Ace quebrou o silêncio que surgiu, havia dito a si mesmo que não voltaria no assunto, mas quando percebeu já havia feito a pergunta. A dúvida se impregnara em sua mente de um jeito indescritível, ele tinha que acabar aquele assunto.

— Se não quisesse contar, não contava. — a jovem revira os olhos, colocando a mão no rosto do pirata e vira ele para o lado, ao mesmo tempo que gira a cabeça para o lado oposto. — Essa conversa está ficando fora de controle, Portgas. Eita! Tu é bem quente. — ela adiciona com espanto. Apertando as bochechas dele com ambas as mãos.

— Qual é? — Ace agarra o pulso dela e puxa para baixo, impedindo que ela o sufocasse. E fica surpreso por a encontrar com um semblante sério.

Mordendo a unha do polegar, a marinheira olha diretamente para o pirata e põe-se a murmurar:

— Mas será? isso não seria maldade com toda minha família? Eles sempre acreditaram tanto no meu potencial como marinheira... Minha vozinha iria chorar horrores, garanto.

Entretanto, Ace a interrompe antes que ela completasse seu raciocínio, pedindo desculpas:

— Por acaso esse é um assunto que eu não devo tocar? Tudo bem se não quiser por sua vozinha no meio. — ele olha para ela de canto com cuidado, ela parecia prestes a chorar e tudo o que ele menos queria no momento era uma bêbada chorosa em seu pé, ele poderia acabar chorando também.

O pirata espera um sinal para que pudesse prosseguir. Pensando com cuidado, na medida do que seu raciocínio bêbado permite, nas palavras que dirá seguir.

— Você é sua própria pessoa... uma mulher totalmente crescida que merece ser livre das correntes que outros colocaram sobre suas costas, sabe? Não precisa de tudo isso, apenas seja quem você quer ser e faça o que quiser fazer. É simples. — ele não era ninguém para dar conselhos e se intrometer na vida dos outros, mas já estava bêbado demais para pensar muito em certas coisas. Provavelmente, nunca esteve tão bêbado assim antes, acompanhar aquela marinheira era cilada, ela era muito boa de copo. Então, se deixassem ele iria falar mesmo e falar muito.

— Não se preocupe, falar disso não me incomoda. — ela acena com calma. Ace era bem educado para um pirata, aquilo era refrescante.

Suas últimas palavras fizeram com que a marinheira se sentisse envergonhada e ao mesmo tempo, foram estranhamente reconfortantes. O fato a deixou sem nada para dizer de volta, encarando o solo até que pensasse em algo para redirecionar o assunto.

— Pra falar a verdade, minha vozinha só iria chorar por eu ser um desgosto à família mesmo. Igual ela fez quando descobriu que meu tio Bruno fugiu com uma Kuja para os cafundós do East Blue e olha que ele nem era marinheiro de verdade ainda, estava em treinamento. — ela comentou exasperada, procurando sumir com o silêncio que se formou logo em seguida, enquanto ainda processava as palavras gentis do pirata.

— Nossa. As Kuja não são aquelas piratas que detestam homens? — Ace questionou, incrédulo.

— São sim, mas elas não são más, só meio misândricas, mas má não. Se você não for um homem elas vão te tratar bem, já dei uma parada lá na ilha delas uma vez. Nem todo pirata é mal. — ela contou e ouviu Ace murmurar "sortuda" com uma carranca na cara. Ela apenas riu e continuou falando: — Sonhe com a ilha das mulheres até o dia de sua morte, pirata. — ela riu dele. E continuou:

— Bom voltando no meu tio… para você ver como essas coisas do coração são bem doidas. Portgas, você tinha que ver, foi um escândalo enorme. Ninguém da família fala no nome dele até hoje e isso já tem uns vinte anos. — ela deu risada, fofocando. — O tio teve até uma filinha, quando eu andar pelo East Blue vou visitar eles. Ela já deve ter a minha idade hoje. Tenho muita vontade de os conhecer. — ela divagou sobre seus planos.

Ace acha um pouco de graça daquela dinâmica. Com aquilo dito, confirmou o que havia pensado anteriormente sobre a família dela, ele chega a sentir-se um pouco deprimido por tudo.

— Mas sabe, os piratas não deviam ser os caras maus? Pelo menos eu nunca ouvi falar que um pirata que fosse um herói bonzinho. — ele brincou e arrancou uma risada espirituosa da marinheira.

— Você tem um bom ponto. — ela sorriu, mostrando-se mais confiante depois de ouvir as palavras dele e franze o cenho pensando no último argumento do pirata.

— Se vocês não forem maus, nós da marinha não existiríamos. Mas ah, pera! Tem um sim! O Gol D. Roger! De certo ponto de vista, o cara foi um herói para toda uma era. Criminoso e escória para muitos, claro. Mas a jornada de aventura dele serviu de inspiração. Minha vozinha até trocou uns tiros com ele mais de uma vez e inclusive se juntou com ele para derrotar o bando dos poratas Rocks. Ela me contou. — A marinheira se gabou.

— Eu não gosto desse cara. E você veio de Marineford mesmo, tem certeza? Porque eu tenho certeza que ninguém pensa nele como um herói. — Ace faz careta estalando a língua e se deita no chão de braços abertos. Ele tinha seus motivos para não gostar do rei dos piratas, uns bem plausíveis, inclusive.

O assunto morre, mas a marinheira parece estar animada desta vez, ela espera um longo momento e engatinha para o lado do pirata e senta no cascalho fresco.

— Ei, Portgas, vem cá. — ela assustou cautelosa, acenando para ele.

— Fala. — Ace ergue o tronco para poder ver ela e espera meio curioso pela pergunta.

— Nós meio que somos colegas agora, né?

— Parceiros, irmãos. Isso até você voltar a querer ir atrás da minha cabeça de novo. — ele sorri, caloroso, levantando e lembrando de reunir suas coisas para ir embora. Havia recordado da tripulação que estava no navio enquanto eles estavam descansando da briga, Deuce mesmo iria ficar uma fera quando ele voltasse.

Ace observou a marinheira sorrir de volta para ele e gostou, havia feito uma boa amizade naquela noite, quem diria?

Ambos podiam viver realidades completamente opostas e terem passado por situações bem diferentes, mas tinham conflitos familiares de certa forma. Ele simpatizou, esperando que ambos pudessem viver as próprias aventuras e superar tudo isso, de preferência, longe da família.

O pirata se prepara então para a despedida.

— Ossos do ofício. — ela dá de ombros, indiferente. — Mas são águas passadas. Prometo. — a marinheira ergue o dedo mindinho. — Gostei disso de parceiros. Você é um cara muito legal. Eu estava pensando… se eu largasse a marinha você me aceitaria no seu bando? — ela pergunta cheia de curiosidade.

— Você mudou de ideia muito rápido! — Ace aponta para ela boquiaberto e pasmo. Onde estava a marinheira indecisa e com medo de decepcionar a vozinha de minutos atrás?

— Acontece. — na verdade não. Que pessoa em posse de suas faculdades mentais decide simplesmente confiar e amarrar seu futuro a um completo estranho e supostamente um inimigo? Pois é, ninguém. Talvez houvesse bebendo demais naquela noite, a ponto de não estar em seu sentido mais apurado.

— Sua vozinha não iria chorar horrores?

— Sim, mas ela supera a decepção. A velha é dura na queda. Tá na ativa da marinha até hoje.

O pirata para com os olhos esbugalhados, bastante surpreso com o pedido. Tá legal que ele havia sugerido, mas não esperava que ela fosse mudar de ideia tão rápido, nem que fosse pedir para se juntar logo ao bando dele.

De certa forma, Ace gostou daquela decisão, não mentiria. Ele admirou profundamente toda a coragem que a marinheira demonstrou, sua atitude e a força monstruosa. O pirata realmente só não estava tendo tanta fé nela. Pessoas indecisas e sem forças para mudar o próprio destino são meio lamentáveis, e disso ele sabia bem.

Ace senta de volta no chão, jogando a mochila verde de lado com um largo sorriso aberto. Ele pega a garrafa de bebida que havia sido deixada jogada e toma um bocado, jogando o chapéu para trás, para poder coçar a nuca enquanto pensa. Deixando a marinheira ansiosa por sua resposta.

Então ele finalmente abre um largo sorriso e dá uma batidinha nas costas dela, cumprimentando a moça, descontraído. Entrelaçando o dedo mindinho ao dela que esperava ansioso.

— Até que não é uma má ideia, hein, tu até que é gente boa, capitã. Saiba que quando você quiser vir, os piratas de Spade estarão com os braços abertos para você. — ele inclina sua bebia em direção a ela, para que pudessem compartilhar o momento.

— Mesmo? valeu. — ela sorri de volta, parecendo bem feliz. Toma a garrafa das mãos dele sem aviso e termina de beber de uma só vez e a levanta. — Um brinde aos novos caminhos! — e ele a acompanha, pegando outra garrafa e bebe tudo também, bastante entusiasmado naquilo que seria uma definitiva saideira. — Um brinde! — Ace declara.

Mas em seguida, ela faz algo inesperado. A capitã puxa o dendenmushi que estava guardado no bolso e acena para o pirata ao seu lado, indicando que ele chegasse mais perto e desta forma, espera para ser atendida. Portgas, ao seu lado assiste a tudo atentamente, curioso com o que ela estava fazendo. O caracol toca por um longo momento, até alguém atender do outro lado da linha.

— Alô, oi. Aqui é a Capitã [Nome]. Estou ligando para dar atualizações novas sobre meu encontro com o novato procurado. — Então fez uma pausa para escutar. — Como sabem, dias atrás, separada de minha tripulação, encontrei com Portgas D. Ace e os piratas de Spade no sul da Grand Line e eu venho dar o meu último informe oficial a respeito. — mais uma pausa, mas dessa vez mais curta que a anterior. — Tô deserdando a marinha. Sim, não, não, exatamente. Não. Você não escutou errado. Tô caindo fora.

— Ei, o que você pensa que está fazendo? — bêbado, Ace grudou no ombro dela, rindo. Sussurrando suas palavras de surpresa em um tom consideravelmente alto bem no pé do ouvido da moça, achando tudo aquilo um absurdo sem tamanho e engraçado. Ele pensou que fosse alguma brincadeira, mas pelos barulhos que escutava vindos do denden mushi dificilmente seria algo do tipo.

A marinheira desertora empurrou o pirata no chão com a mão desocupada e riu de volta, erguendo o denden mushi alto para que o pirata não alcançasse.

— Estou desertando, ué. — ela respondeu como se fosse a coisa mais óbvia do mundo. Ace a cortou, dando risada do quão sério ela estava a respeito da decisão ridícula.

— Tem certeza? Você está bêbada. — ele apontou, fazendo uma ótima observação.

— Estou, mas são nesses momentos que você tem as melhores ideias! Eu nunca estive mais lúcida, Portgas.

Tendo dito isso, ela voltou sua atenção para o caracol e voltou a falar com o correspondente do outro lado da linha:

— Ainda está na linha? Avise para meus superiores que a partir de hoje sou uma pirata e conquistarei todo o novo mundo sob as ordens de Portgas D. Ace, capitão dos piratas de Spade e não tentem me fazer mudar de ideia. Fala pro velho Sengoku que eu vou ter que ficar devendo as bolachas de arroz dele. — ela faz uma pequena pausa para ouvir o que o outro lado tem a dizer, então volta afirmando: — Não, não estou em perigo, muito menos sendo coagida pela tripulação. É livre e espontânea vontade. Eu cansei de vocês.

Então, fez uma longa pausa, parecia irritada enquanto escutava o que a pessoa para quem ligou havia a dizer a respeito disso. Ace assistiu de perto, se esforçando para espiar toda a conversa, segurando a risada daquela situação surreal e tentando falar com a marinheira ao mesmo tempo em que ela estava na ligação. O que acabou resultando em uma grande bagunça.

— É claro que eu tô falando sério, por que não estaria? E nem vem me falar que eu tô bêbada, okay? Eu sei bem que estou. — ela confirma sua escolha para o correspondente da marinha, mantendo-se firme com a decisão tomada. — Diga à minha família e aos meus subordinados que sinto muito, bom, na verdade não, mais ou menos. Na verdade, diga vou sentir saudades. Por último, vá se foder Vice-Almirante Deloai. Eu nunca gostei de você mesmo. Babaca.

Ela desliga o dendenmushi, mas logo em seguida ele volta a tocar e tocar.

A ex marinheira olha para Ace de olhos arregalados, pálida como se estivesse acabado de ver um fantasma, parecendo tomar noção do peso de sau ação. O pirata encarou em silêncio, não conseguindo mais rir, sem saber o que falar na hora. Ambos chocados com o que havia acabado de acontecer

— Eu fiz mesmo isso? — ela perguntou para Portgas.

— Fez sim. — o pirata assentiu com cuidado.

— EU FIZ MESMO ISSO! — ela gritou dando um abraço nele de surpresa, jogando o pirata no chão, em êxtase pelo resultado do seu ato de coragem.

Logo em seguida, atingida pelo peso das ações, ela sentou em cima do peito de Ace e colocou a mão na cabeça, chocada.

— Eu fiz mesmo isso… Eu fiz! Eu mandei o Deloai se foder! — Seu humor mudou rapidamente e logo estava alegre de novo. Levantou em um pulo, virou o boné branco para trás e tirou a blusa branca de manga, amassando o uniforme branco meio sujo e em seguida o jogando na fogueira. Abriu outra garrafa de cachaça e bebeu um bocado antes de jogar o resto para alimentar o fogo.

— O que você tá fazendo?! — Ace agarrou o braço dela, antes que a jovem se queimasse com o fogo que aumentou de uma vez.

— Qual é? Você pensou que eu estava brincando, Portgas? Ou melhor... capitão Ace!

Ele tomou alguns segundo necessários para digerir os últimos acontecimentos e choramingou, vendo a última garrafa indo embora.

— Você podia ter dado pra mim! — ele reclamou, observando o fogo aumentar gradualmente. Agachando ao lado da desertora.

— Desculpa. Acho que tem mais um restinho — A mulher se levanta e olha com cuidado para o fundo da garrafa, tentando não derramar o que ainda estivesse lá e quando confirma. Ela a vira a garrafa de ponta cabeça despeja o resto dentro da boca de Ace, que abre bem os lábios e estica a língua para fora da boca, dando seu melhor para não deixar que nem uma gota fosse desperdiçada. (O que, infelizmente, não tem uma taxa de sucesso muito alta, já que ele termina com álcool pingando em seu pescoço e parte do rosto).

Ace termina de queimar o casaco, jogando mais fogo na pequena fogueira.

— Acho que eu tenho que te dar Boas-vindas aos piratas de Spade ou algo assim agora. Nós temos que celebrar! — o jovem pirata começa meio indiferente e se torna muito animado durante a declaração final. Chamando a atenção dela que estava presa em seu ex uniforme branco virando cinzas.

A jovem olha para o pirata, ele usa a ponta do dedo para erguer o seu chapéu de cima dos olhos, que inclusive estava parcialmente pegando fogo também. É, ela tem de admitir para si mesma que aquilo tem sim um certo estilo e sorri para ele, agradecendo.

— Acho que isso dá uma comemoração mesmo. O bar daqui ainda tá aberto. Dá pra gente comprar umas bebidas, levar pro navio e vazar antes que mais alguém da marinha pra essa ilha. — Sugeriu.

— Boa ideia.

E que boa ideia, heim. Ela conseguia se lembrar bem do choque da tripulação quando a inimiga entrou no navio segurando várias garrafas de rum ao lado do próprio capitão logo atrás carregando bebida e rindo. Anunciando a todos que a tripulação tinha uma nova companheira.

Após isso, a noite foi extremamente divertida. Cheia de comemorações, comidas gostosas, cantoria e bebida para acompanhar. Lógico que eles tiveram de explicar o que havia acontecido, e com isso, a marinhaira foi simplista. Contou a todos que havia feito o pedido e o capitão acatado, Ace apenas confirmou a história, acrescentando que ele havia a visto de perto desertar do posto bem na sua frente e como tinha mandado um Vice-Almirante se foder.

Foi uma história interessante pelo que ela se lembrava, mas não muito crível.

A moça não tinha a mínima ideia de onde estava seu dendenmushi, mas tinha certeza que a essa altura ele estava tocando como louco, o pobre caracol. Era meio engraçado pensar na forma como havia lutado tanto para construir tudo o que tinha na vida, sua reputação na marinha, seu nome, sua posição, a boa relação cultivada com todos na própria família... tudo para abdicar em poucas horas de uma noite qualquer.

Quem diria que a filha exemplar, a mesma que havia acumulado grandes feitos, tornando-se a mais jovem na família a alcançar o posto de capitã. Logo quem era a promessa de trazer o posto de Almirante para a família de marinheiroa novamente e que era detestada por majoritariamente todos os primos, pois sempre era usada como um exemplo, tinha desaparecido por dias e então simplesmente ligado completamente bêbada, dizendo que estava se juntando à uma tripulação pirata.

E como se não fosse suficiente, ainda faltou com respeito a um superior. Anunciando assim, o início de sua vida como criminosa. Vergonhoso era eufemismo, bem no mínimo, mínimo mesmo.

Quem diria que havia trabalhado tanto e gastado tantas energias em prol daquela vida, de corresponder às expectativas que sua família, seus subordinados e superiores tinham para com ela, apenas para jogar fora em uma única noite de bebedeira com um completo estranho. Realmente engraçado mesmo.

Definitivamente deveria começar a maneirar pra ontem na quantidade de álcool que consumia.

Ela encarou as velas abertas no mastro, então um dos piratas passando pelo convés, sorriu para ela, voltando a atenção para moça ao notar que a nova integrante estava acordada.

— Bom dia, Marine. — Deuce acenou animado. Ela acenou de volta com um sorriso amarelo. Eles a chamam assim agora, tudo por causa do boné que ela insistia em manter na cabeça, mesmo após ter abdicado do posto e queimando o uniforme.

Merda. Não, não foi engraçado nada, foi assustador  assustador pra caralho (mas só um pouco engraçado, de um jeito meio irônico). A incerteza que aquele momento de autoconsciência a proporcionou foi desesperadora. 

Mas... O mais estranho mesmo, era que mesmo diante de toda essa situação e desse misto de sentimentos conflituosos ela estava (apesar de toda a ressaca, ânsia de vômito, vertigem, lambidas daquele gato enorme e a baba do capitão escorrendo até embaixo das suas costas) incrivelmente feliz como nunca estivera em anos. A jovem encontrava-se completamente satisfeita pela primeira vez na vida com uma decisão que havia tomado. Mesmo sem ter ideia do que pretendia com aquele passo no escuro.

 Como diabos era possível ficar daquele jeito? Sentia-se mais viva e realmente no controle da própria vida, de alguma forma liberta. Em anos, aquela a primeira vez que fez algo que realmente queria fazer e não podia sentir-se melhor. A sensação era de fato ótima.

Seu coração batia angustiado, mas ao mesmo tempo ela também sentia aquele friozinho gostoso na barriga. Estava longe de casa e da marinha. O cheiro da salmoura e o sol das ondas parecia o mesmo, mas seu coração batia com leveza, era como se um peso houvesse sido retirado das suas costas e agora ela fosse livre, finalmente. Encontrava-se ansiosa pelo caminho desconhecido à sua frente, louca para desbravar as novas terras com todas as suas forças. Parecia ser um sonho, pura maluquice. Talvez até descobrisse algo que gostasse mais do que tudo, ela estava animada.

Olhando de canto para Ace, a nova pirata sorriu satisfeita, foi grata por seu encontro com aquele homem e decidiu que seguiria seu espírito livre até os confins do oceano, pois havia encontrado nele um bom amigo.

Ela afagou os cabelos do pirata de um jeito terno, silenciosamente. Percorrendo a palma da mão pela extensão das costas do dele até a base e então subindo pelo mesmo caminho sinuoso com a ponta dos dedos. Parando na nuca, deu um tapinha na cabeça dele (o que não foi suficiente nem para fazer cócegas no pirata, ou chegar a perturbar seu sono).

Imprudentemente, decidiu pegar o resto da bebida e derramar na cara de Ace sem cerimônias. Já estava cansada de servir como travesseiro para ele, dormente, além de também estar completamente faminta. Precisava dar uma volta e ir atrás de algo para comer logo ou então daria um ataque bem ali mesmo.

Ace acordou em um pulo, tossindo e com os olhos ardendo. Ele se ergueu de joelhos sobre ela, apoiando uma das mãos ao lado da cabeça dela, enquanto usava a outra para limpar o rosto. 

— Mais o que você está fazendo? — ele ergueu a voz meio rouca devido ao fato de que havia acabado de acordar, fazendo uma careta mal-humorada, enquanto era atingido por uma dor de cabeça infernal que nem sequer esperou que ele acordasse apropriadamente para se manifestar.

Ela se encolheu, juntando os braços sob o peito em defensiva, movendo-se por reflexo e olhando nos olhos dele, enquanto Ace a encarava de olhos esbugalhados e lábios repuxados para baixo, afinal, por que eles estavam juntos daquela forma de manhã mesmo? Foi um momento estranho.

Sua cabeça voltou a girar, mas a ex-marinheira manteve a compostura. Relaxou no convés apoiando a cabeça em um dos braços, em seguida deu um aceno para Ace. Piscando brincalhona, enquanto pousa a ponta do dedo no meio da clavícula dele, despreocupadamente percorrendo em uma linha o caminho através do peito, desenhando por entre os músculos dele até chegar na altura do umbigo. Causando assim, um arrepio na espinha do pirata. 

Ace arregalou os olhos, sentindo o rosto esquentar enquanto o sangue subia para a face, sem saber como reagir a toda aquela informação que estava recebendo logo ao acordar.

— Te acordando pra dar bom dia, capitão ~ 

E respondendo, ela virou para o lado e vomitou horrores. Aliás, que forma esplêndida de se começar o dia!

[shirmart]

Today's menu is marine hunter x pirate hunter AU.

I really love, how Mihawk is mocking Zoro here. It's like "bite me, if you can". Zoro is so angry, but he actually can't do anything. This tension is 🤌🏻

And yes, Mihawk is basically too pretty to be ignored as a man. Zoro will have a tough fight with his own feelings

[moniheartsluffy]

one piece headcannons pt2

a/n: don’t worry bout nun sweetheart. just laugh n vibe🫡

luffy: we all know how luffy acts but i think that everytime he sees his grandpa or his brothers he starts acting like the whiney kid he was when he was younger.

kidd: him and killer made the “if im not married by 30 then we’re getting married” promise to eachother. killer forgot all about it but the memory of it haunts kidd til this day.

doflamingo: i swear that he has tripped over that feather cape he be wearing.

law but younger: he has dyed doffy’s feather cape black and hid corazon’s and proceeded to help them search for it… (absolute menace)

franky: he has 100% poured water on iceberg in his sleep and til this day he’s never gotten caught.

ussop: for a period of his childhood i feel like he was an adamant believer that he didn’t have a dad. (yassop knew he could’ve sent a letter or sum)

benn becky: acts like the responsible one but is just as irresponsible as shanks when it comes to certain things (THEM FAWKING CIGARETTES THATS RLLY A BLUNT)

sanji: he has a journal(it’s a diary) and he writes little letters to his mom everyday…he’s done it since she passed and he still has all the journals he went through. (damn that’s kinda sad)

whitebeard: as much as he’d hate to admit it…he kinda considers shanks and buggy as his sons seeing as he kinda watched them grow up. (him and roger coparented lol)

roger: he accidentally forgot shanks and buggy on an island…yes it happened more than once. (man ik rayleigh was on his ass..)

[itsrainingbubbles]

Ships are definitely a thing in the one piece world and I imagine people forming like fan clubs where they talk about their ships and exchange fanart and fanfics

This is specifically about the strawhats but I'm sure others would also exist

The fans collectively pay to have a column in the newspaper promoting their club

I imagine some marines jobs are going to club meetups since they're always discussing the strawhats so it's a good way for the marines to know what the public knows about them and since they're always speculating about them it also helps them when looking into the members and what their next move will be because they have thousands of people discussing it. It's why the club is allowed to remain, and why they overlook missed payments to keep the ad in the news

But because of this they also have marines arguing about ships

"you're going for zosan?? They're always fighting you idiot! Zolu is ten times more likely"

"enemies to lovers trope you buffoon! It's so romantic, you should check out xxx take on it, I wasn't sold until I read it"

"guys, obviously sanlu beats both of them. The insatiable strawhat captain and the cook?? Match made in heaven"

"you guys are idiots. All of you. Obviously east blue polycule is the only answer."

"just to be clear we all agree on frobin?"

"I myself am more of a robin x Zoro gal (idk their ship name)"

And their superiors can't even do anything about it because at least they're enthusiastic about their job? They get the information they need and aren't technically doing anything wrong

Also the barto club 100% attend the meetings in disguise so they can talk about the strawhats in peace and people don't run away from them, so they become friends with some under cover Marines and they don't even realize it

The barto club also pays a huge portion for the club to keep its advertisement because anything discussing the strawhats needs to be put out there

They also produce a good portion of the works there for literally every ship, they do not have a favorite they will write/draw it all

They probably also recruit a few members at the club

[gatitties]

Hi, I have another request! This is going to be a long detail.. sorry!

Can Straw Hats, Heart Pirates, Kid Pirates, Whitebeard Pirates, Revolutionary Army and Marines react to Female! Y/N like Pinkie Pie, who is the entertainer.

Her personality is hyperactive, excitable, quirky, and outgoing but she's always quick to apologize when she steps on any foot or hands.

She's somewhere inbetween tomboy and girly.

She is talking fast

She tends to have a lighthearted manner in serious situations. She is often not taken seriously even by her closest friends, who occasionally call her out on her seemingly illogical behavior.

Hobbies: parties, singing, and fun!

She also has a pet baby alligator named Gummy whom she loves dearly.

Insecurity:

She is very sensitive to rejection too. When she thinks her friends don't like her anymore (it turns out to be a big misunderstanding involving a surprise birthday party) she loses the ability to think rationally, retreats into her imagination, and starts talking to inanimate objects.

She shows an insecure side of her personality, doubting her friends or herself. she believes her friends to be unfaithful, causing her hair to "deflate" . She slowly goes insane as she adopts several inanimate objects as new friends, pretending that they are real.

She tries to prove that she is responsible by begging her friends, eventually they accept it. She becomes overwhelmed by the task and shows doubt in her ability to handle the responsibility.

She worries that some of her crew will eventually forget about her and the rest of their friends when Luffy becomes a King of the Pirates or some of her crew accomplished their dreams.

She feels outdone and replaced. She gives up party planning and tries other tasks but fails at them. Her faith in herself is only renewed when she looks back on parties she had thrown for her friends.

Ability:

She looks silly and but she's the smartest one of her crew. She’s also intelligent and perceptive enough to explain the plan to the others in a more understandable manner. She made some crazy contraptions in her time, but the craziest thing is that they’ve all worked! She’s creative enough to come up with her inventions, but she’s also clever enough to put them all together. She’ll have to have blueprinted them, crafted them, wired them etc. has demonstrated time and time again that she’s got a real talent for music, but it all seems to come out of the blue. I mean, she didn’t even realise she could play the organ until she came across it by chance. She can play multiple instrumentals all and she can play them well.

Someone smart like (Robin and Law) couldn’t think of a way to plan. The immensely gifted, they didn’t think to use their plan to get out of their situation, and Female! Y/N looked so DONE!, but she always seems to be one step ahead. One of the crew deadass says to the other member, “Sometimes I think she’s the smartest one of us all” too, and the other member agrees. She’s lowkey brilliant, and they all know it.

She frequently sings songs of her writing, but the other people's reactions are not always favorable. Her friends react skeptically when she begins singing, and her audience reacts very negatively to her song-and-dance routine. But at the same time, some of her songs are received extremely positively by her friends and everyone else alike.

She is an Expert Baker.

She is an exceptional ice skating pony, stating that she's been skating since she was "an itty-bitty little-widdle twinkie-Pinkie".

She can break the fourth wall, She may act and sound completely insane, but she’s competent enough to fathom that she’s simply a fictional character on a human’s screen. She knows too much.

She embodies friendship! She knows everybody! She gets along with everypony!

She sports Cartoon Physics, which she can use to warp the fabric of reality around her.

She can evenly match Kizaru's speed.

When she keeps someone to her word, she pops out of a basket of sponges, a basket of apples, and even from the reflection-side of a mirror every time anyone is about to slip up on her promise.

She has a strange ability (Pink Sense) to predict the future through various twitches and involuntary motions made by her body.

Twitchy Tail: When stuff's gonna start falling.

Ears Flopping: Starting a bath for someone.

Itchy Back: Female! Y/N's lucky day.

Pinchy Knee: Something scary's about to happen.

Achy Shoulder: There's an alligator in the tub.

Ear Flop, Knee Twitch, Eye Flutter: The sky is about to be graced with a beautiful rainbow.

Ear Flop, Eye Flutter, Knee Twitch: Look out for opening doors.

Itchy Nose: A swarm of bees.

Shudders: It's a doozy. Something that someone never expects to happen is gonna happen.

She has a very strong memory, enough to "remember everything about everybody in her village and another islands, which she would visit.

Well Organized: She has a secret room under their ship, filled with information on each party she's done and everybody's likes and dislikes and allergies.

Laughter Embodiment: She possessed the element of laughter.

─Strawhats, Heart Pirates, Kid Pirates, Whitebeard Pirates, Revolutionary Army & Marines x Pinkie Pie!reader

─Summary: You are a burst of energy, a little silly but just enough, you still have a great intellect as well as a good voice and gifts in various aspects

─Warnings: none

I didn't understand if this reader is totally human or totally a pony as such, so I'll do it as if reader were a mix :p

─ You add twice the fun that Luffy seeks to this crew, you and he are like soul mates separated at birth, although you consider yourself much smarter than your captain.

─ Sometimes you have a little competition to see who of the two of you makes the best parties, whether to celebrate a victory in a battle or for the smallest thing, you always look for excuses to celebrate something.

─ Sanji is quite grateful that you help him sometimes in the kitchen, although you only make desserts for the most part, he appreciates that you cook for him from time to time.

─ Robin is the most aware of your powers because she always notices the movements of your ears, eyes or joints, she uses your power for her benefit on more than one occasion when you don't even notice it.

─ Nami always has to stop you when you start talking like a locomotive without brakes, many times she can't understand what you say because of how fast you talk, and you also get stuck from time to time, Chopper tries to help you and gives you some advice to modulate or speak a little slower.

─ Zoro doesn't have a good relationship with your pet, it always seems to bother the swordsman at the least opportune moments or he trips over the poor alligator, just like Usopp, he prefers to keep his distance from Gummy even though it is a fairly calm crocodile within reason.

─ On the contrary, Franky loves that little pet of yours as does Jinbe, they will always have some extra food for Gummy that it will accept with delight, the cyborg doesn't mind that his metal hands are nibbled.

─ You spend some time with Franky and Usopp making or helping with some of their inventions, contributing ideas here and there to improve theirs.

─ Although the vast majority are quite skeptical about your musical moments, Brook is always supporting you from the second you open your mouth to sing, joining you from time to time and adding background music, although he leaves all the dancing and choreography to you.

─ Law is doomed, he can't understand how you have so much energy, as if you were explosions and smiles constantly.

─ Shachi and Penguin adore your cheerful and chaotic personality, it gives that special touch to the seriousness of their captain and makes the days less monotonous.

─ It goes without saying that you form the most dangerous trio (for your captain's mental health) in the entire vast sea.

─ Jean Bart is the number one fan of your cakes, he will accompany you to the end of the world just to get any ingredient you need just to be able to enjoy a good cake or sweet.

─ Ikkaku is your translator when you speak too fast, she manages to catch all your words without problems, she always repeats what you say more slowly for Bepo, who seems to be the one who has the most problems understanding you.

─ You've probably felt disappointed or deflated many times in this crew because of Law, it's not that he wanted to misbehave but his serious demeanor made you think he hated you sometimes which isn't true, as irritating as you could be you were a good addition to the team.

─ Parties aren't a very common thing on the Polar Tang so you have more pressure when it comes to scheduling everything, you make sure to keep track of all the likes and dislikes of the entire crew to convince them to throw parties more often.

─ Law will also take advantage of your little spasms to foresee certain situations.

─ They're not big fans of your pet but Bepo is its biggest supporter just because he can talk to Gummy.

─ Being in this crew is like flipping a coin, sometimes it's one side or the other.

─ Kid usually enjoys all the whirlwind of emotions that you are, your small and ingenious ideas, your inventions… but sometimes you are too positive for him, he can easily get irritated if he is not in the mood for all your effusiveness.

─ Killer will sometimes ask you to calm down a bit because you are being too energetic hitting some enemies, he will offer you to bake to lower your energy a bit, although you seem inexhaustible.

─ Sometimes you are the one who gets irritated, since all these men carry too much negativity, that is why, when you know that something is going to happen, you decide to keep quiet or try to hide the movement of your ears and let that door hit Kid.

─ You love to share some accessories with Wire and you're giving each other little trinkets almost every time you land on a new island, they're usually matching necklaces, rings or earrings.

─ Sometimes you look to the side as if a camera was recording you and you talk to nothing commenting on the situation, Heat thinks it's a little weird but doesn't give it much importance.

─Most of the crew still doesn't understand how you're able to stay a few more seconds in the air before falling off a cliff, they can even see how the vowels of your scream come out of your throat and are projected into the air becoming smaller and smaller.

─ Prepare all your arsenal, because this crew throws the best parties you can find, of course, everything was organized by you and you know that nothing will go wrong because everyone loves to have any excuse to celebrate the smallest thing.

─ As well as taking advantage of the opportunity to do karaoke from time to time just so everyone can see your artistic skills, despite not being big music fans, some people tend to join in singing if they are drunk enough.

─ You have a whole room full of cabinets filled with useful information for parties, this crew is too big but that won't stop you from collecting data.

─ Ace and Gummy don't get along because when Ace falls asleep eating, your alligator eats his food.

─ Thatch always watches you work on your cakes in silence, usually doing his work on the side, sometimes he suggests giving it a personal touch or adding other ingredients that you don't usually use to innovate in your recipes.

─ Izo is very grateful for some of your inventions because they help him with some of his hobbies or training, he is also the one who enjoys your hyperactivity and energy the most.

─ Whitebeard doesn't understand most of the things you say because of the speed of your words, but just by listening to a couple of words he manages to understand you without having to listen to half of the other's sentence.

─ Marco is helping you figure this out, you need to relax when you talk, and breathe more between sentences or you'll choke on your own saliva one day.

─ Everyone is there when you start singing, Izo will do some choruses for you and Ace will dance for you, although his choreography is still poor, you have offered dance classes for anyone who wants to learn.

─ You have had more than one misunderstanding that has made you escape the ship, usually Thatch always tends to solve the situation, maybe you are a little dramatic, but you can get discouraged easily.

─ Ace has probably been hit by seeing you in a fight because of how stupid you look, you look like you came out of a comic book, he can even see the onomatopoeia of the hits and buzzes above your head, which totally distracts him.

─ You're mad at Dragon for the simple fact that your pet likes to be at your leader's feet more than by your side.

─ Koala is the one who comforts you while you're literally deflated like a balloon on the floor when this happens, she'll offer to bake some cakes so you'll forget about your pet's betrayal.

─ Sabo doesn't understand how you sometimes have such ingenious ideas, don't take it the wrong way, but on the outside and because of your excessive energy you don't seem like the kind of person who could get him out of a tight spot.

─ But you're pretty reliable and you have a lot of tricks up your sleeve as well as really useful inventions that help a lot of the agents within the revolutionary army.

─ Unfortunately the parties will be too few with this team, they don't have much time to do this kind of things because the government is doing an effusive search, but Ivankov will always tell you the right time to celebrate one.

─ Strangely, the only one who listens to you sing and dance is Dragon, although his face seems more serious than a moai's and his eyes deader than a corpse's, he always applauds at the end of your performance.

─ Many of them wonder where you get so much energy and desire to talk, as well as wondering how you don't get stuck when speaking so fast, but they don't give it much importance, because this kind of positivity is what they need to not break down with their purpose.

─ They also don't question much why sometimes you talk to yourself and comment on things with someone else who isn't there or at least they don't see, they interpret it as something related to your powers, although it's just you breaking the fourth wall.

─ You're kind of doomed here, most don't appreciate your parties, events, or songs because they need to look serious at their job.

─ Kizaru loves parties though, he'll also slowly clap with a small smile if you sing something during your lunch breaks.

─ Akainu definitely hates you and you hate him, he's a grumpy old man, he only recognizes you for your intelligence and some of your gadgets that have helped in some battles as reinforcements.

─ Aokiji usually steals Gummy from you, they seem to get along pretty well so you have no choice but to let your pet have some freedom with your superior, not knowing that your poor alligator is being trained to bite Akainu's underwear.

─ Maybe the only one who really appreciates all your good spirits and frenzy is Garp, you remind him of his grandson after all, that won't save you from getting punched if you do something that angers him.

─ Smoker is so skeptical of you, sometimes you are the most serious person and out of nowhere you start to talk with anyone the dumbest thing in the world, not to mention when you make that kind of whirlwind when you run, he can't understand you.

─ Tashigi is nicer unlike the others, she will be the most permissive with you and most of the time she supports you in everything you do, she is definitely one of the only people you bake special cakes taking into account their tastes.

─ Fujitora is the one who comforts you along with Koby the times when your mood goes overboard, the superiors are not very kind with their words sometimes and you take everything too personally which makes it easier to get discouraged.

─ You can't always pretend to be the social, outgoing, and smiling person because the job requires some moments of seriousness to project authority, but at the end of the day what drives you to continue here is being able to help defenseless people.

[base0h]

Smoker, Luffy and croco boy with a s/o who has the same devil fruit as them and uses it to annoy/prank them constantly.

Crack fic pls

Take care love<3

not me starting to laugh like doffy when I saw this💀💀 ew. anon thank you for allowing me to showcase my endless amount of crack in my mind 💜

warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, crack

- the amount of times you’ve scared the shit out of this man is kind of sad. I’m assuming poor smoker gets spooked a lot because of your abilities, and sometimes you’re not even trying to scare him 💀

- you could be minding your own business, floating around and flying around the room during a break with a face mask on. Bro walks in and just dies bec the first thing he sees is a detached floating head with a white face

- “WHAT THE FU-?!”

- and when he gets scared he sets off a bunch of “traps” aka stubbing his toe on a chair that was clearly out of the way, and hitting his head on the doorway

- “IT’S ME!” -you

- I mean- what the fuck were you supposed to do? The man just kept falling backwards into things! He thought you were some kind of monster so he just kept running as he tripped over everything in his way 💀

- this is what he thought was happening:

- “SMOKER. IT’S LITERALLY ME STOP RUNNING!”

- “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO MY GIRLFRIEND?!”

- Tashigi started chasing after him too because she was wondering something abt navy stuff so he kept getting more scared since he couldn’t see what was chasing him😭he just thought you were multiplying 💀

- I’d be scared too if some Smokey person is literally floating after me with a face mask 😂😂😂

- man smoked 56 cigarettes before finally calming down

- “I wish you didn’t have the same devilfruit as me y/n.”

- “OH COME ON I WASNT EVEN TRYING TO SCARE YOU!”

- “IT WORKED!” -him

- “Do you still love me tho?” -you

- “..yeah.”

- on your birthday he blew himself into a balloon and camouflaged into the numerous balloons you got from the crew before you woke up

- when you finally woke up (keep in mind, Luffy was so determined that he woke up early for this prank :0) you stared at the balloons with a smile, the crew was so nice!

- “Hey thanks guys!”

- you walked over to them and took the string of one of them in your hand. It’s amazing how you didn’t hear Luffy giggling like a maniac 😭

- he scooted behind you, making himself lose a bit of air so his blown up face was right behind your head, tapping your shoulder with his long arm

- “BOOO!”

- Nah you smacked the shit out of him, screaming as your fists were covered in haki, ready to punch the absolute soul out of him from fear

- “Luffy?! WHAT THE HELL?!”

- “Ow! Why did you punch me?!”

- “BECAUSE YOU SCARED ME!”

- Poor dude’s face was swollen for the whole day, and you apologized for hitting him after he said sorry for scaring you.

- can you imagine a Luffy balloon in your face? No I don’t mean just his stomach blowing up, I mean his fucking face blown up, and the rest of his body looking all skinny as the string 💀💀 pls I’d cry and shit my pants

- you really can’t beat him in pranks because he always seemed to get you better 😭 but you sure tried

- at night when he was snoring away, you attached yourself to the ceiling, your limbs stretching as your head stretched down to him. (You looked like my sleep demon) “Pssst, Luuuuuuffyyy!”

- “Hm???”

- ok when you’re half asleep you can’t really make out anything, so all the poor guy saw was a fucking demon

- the way he screamed and ran was hilarious, he did not sleep well for days, and clung onto you in bed or whenever he got a chance 🥲

- 100% done with your shit :)

- One time you pretended you were a sandcastle on the beach and waited for him to get closer before making your face pop out at him

- he smacked you with his hook. And… broke your nose 💀

- “…Sorry.”

- “…It’s fine. I’m sorry for trying to scare you.”

- you’re literally struggling to hold in your tears with blood pouring from your nose (BRO WHEN YOUR NOSE GETS SMACKED IT HURTS)

- he felt bad because you’re trying not to cry while sobbing. Poor guy didn’t mean to slap you with haki 💀 nor did he mean to break your nose in half

- he gave you a hug, and let you wear his coat as long as you want since it’s super cozy and fluffy. Also made sandcastles with you while you recovered

- after you felt better, and your nose was finally healed, you both went to the beach again to relax.

- He didn’t like going near the water so he just sat on a chair and watched you find seashells, little sea snails, and other stuff. You brought one back for him, and I swear you’re going to kill the poor guy because of how sweet you are 😭

- he found a mound of sand next to his chair and sighed, you’re trying to prank him again? Didn’t you ever learn?

- “y/n I know that’s you.”

- when there was no response, he grumbled and stood up, poking at the mound with a sigh.

- “Y/n. Please stop.”

- “Huh? Crocodile? Why are you poking that mound of sand?” -you

- his eyes widened as he turned around to see you standing there with a couple sea shells. Wait a damn minute, then what the fuck was this mound of sand doing here?!

- “CROCODILE THOSE ARE SAND SNAKES!”

- The snakes poked their heads out and poor Crocodile picked you up bridal style and started running as they chased you two

- “I THOUGHT IT WAS YOU!” -him

- “I’M NOT DUMB ENOUGH TO DO THAT AGAIN!”

- You gotta hand it to him, the first thing he did when he saw those snakes was pick you up and start running as fast as he could 😭 you were glad you had such a caring man :))) because doffy would’ve totally left you to die 💀

a/n - I feel bad for smoker

[mastomysowner]

신청해주셔서 감사합니다! / Thank you for your recommendations!

by 녹(마감중)@_noK__1

[blackholesun321]

Idk why but I think it would be fun if Shanks and Mihawk are trans, but Shanks is a trans man and Mihawk is a trans woman and we change nothing of how they look or how they behave—

Shanks was probably like 7 when he went to his dads and was like, Hey, I’m a boy, and they were like, Hell yeah, you are, and he’s been on hormones, puberty blockers, and then testosterone, and either worked out enough he didn’t need top surgery or got top surgery by 18-19. So literally no one knows he’s trans aside from Crocus, Rayleigh, maybe Buggy, (but I like to think he just forgets—) and Beckman because they met when someone insulted Roger (saying he probably sucked dick before he was executed), so he pulled out his packer and threw it at the guy (saying he could suck this fucking dick) and just went all attack! grieving fourteen year old.

Mihawk, on the other hand, was like 16-18 when the egg cracked and she learned that no one else secretly wants to be a woman and I can be if I just decide to be and was like, "Hey, I’m a woman... cool.” But also has no want or need to change her body; hell, she loves how she looks, but she’s not on any hormones, she likes her beard, hasn’t done voice training, and isn’t getting bottom surgery. She also in the most Mihawk way possible kind of just assumes everyone else knows and doesn’t feel the need to tell anyone? And because of that weird assumption that everyone knows she’ll just stab people who use the wrong pronouns.

(This is how she became the Marine hunter; they kept calling her him, and she kept stabbing because rude, even though she makes no effort to correct anyone at all.

Garp is the only person who’s clocked; she uses she/her pronouns and calls her she always, and everyone thinks he’s insulting her. But really he’s just look she’s a pirate but I’m not going to miss-gender a fellow queer, and also explains this to no one.)

Accept Shanks, who she politely told after their first duel, and she’d already stabbed him reminded (not even revealing). reminded him of her pronouns. And he was like, all alright 👍 and just started calling Mihawk by her pronouns, also explaining this to no one. (Accept for Beckman because he doesn’t want her to stab him. He’d have to do paperwork.)

Anyway, after some fun times and making out, Shanks offers her the name of the guy he gets his hormones from (it’s Crocus; he's mailed them via Coo for years now). and Mihawks like hormones? Why would I want to change me? I’m awesome. And Shanks agrees that yeah, she already has a pretty great pair of tits, and Mihawk pushes him out of the hammock.

[gingernut1314]

The Hunter and the Hunted

Buggy x F!Reader

Summary: Buggy the clown annoys you. More than annoys you. It's been that way ever since you were both little and as a bounty hunter, it made all the sense in the world to dislike him. When you are captured by the Marines for crimes you had been trying to outrun for years, you find him locked up right alongside you and just as annoying as ever. But when the chance for escape presents itself, it comes with strings attached. Strings that test the very natural order between the hunter and the hunted--an order Buggy seems to have no regard for.

Topics: angst, smut (p in v), canon typical violence, enemies to lovers

Word Count: 5.3K

Commissioned by: @katelynwithpaint (Thank you for commissioning me, it was so much fun to write! ❤️ ❤️)

↞ to Buggy the Clown Masterlist | One Piece Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠

You were thrown into the dank brig of a marine vessel, the force of the action enough to send you falling to the ground, your bound hands barking in pain as you tried to keep yourself upright. 

The two marines who had been commanded to bring you down here spat filthy insults your way. Insults you should have brushed off and forgotten about, but you have never been good at taking such things. Had always let them get under your skin--get you angry and upset. 

Snapping your head around, teeth bared in a nasty snarl, you watched the door slam shut behind you.

“You fucking spoon-fed idiots!” You hissed up at the two marines who had been ready to leave before you had spoken. “You know nothing of--” The taller one slammed his fist against the bars of your prison, causing a loud bang to ring through the metal walls. 

You hardly flinched. Hardly bat an eye. You’d dealt with some of the most terrifying big bads the East Blue had to offer. Big bads who thrived off chaos and ate babies for breakfast. These two goody-two-shoes marines would never in their wildest dreams live up to those creatures. Never utterly terrify you. 

“We know everything about you. We know of your failed run as a bounty hunter. We know you killed a respected and loved member of our community--you are a criminal. Nothing but a no-good pirate.” He shot down at you in an air of superiority. Like you were nothing but the dirt under his shoes. 

A criminal. A no-good pirate. Those few words were worse than any insult one could possibly conjure and spit at you. Worse than physically getting slapped in the face. 

You were by no means a good person, but a criminal--you were far from being a criminal. Not in the same sense as those you’d hunted down. Those who had done true evil in this world. Who had hurt innocent people--children. 

Criminals like their respected and loved community members. A, now-dead, marine commodore. A commodore who had gone too far in life without getting punished for his crimes. 

Crimes you punished him for. 

A crackling laugh filled the air before you could spit any sort of slights their way. A laugh that started off low, like a chuckling at oneself, but gradually grew into a wicked, bellowing thing. 

It was a laugh you were all too familiar with. One you had first heard as a fresh, new bounty hunter following your former master on her journey to take down Silvers Rayleigh, fearsome first mate of the soon-to-be King of the Pirates. 

Your master had been killed not long into the fight, but you had been too busy fighting off a red-nosed boy around your age to notice. You two had beaten the absolute shit out of each other, and would have continued till only one of you left victorious, but Rayleigh had stepped in, stopping you two before that could happen. He had spared you, despite your hot-headed vows of revenge.

You had thought all too much about that red-nosed boy as you continued across the East Blue. Thought about how he had been just as passionate and confident in his mentor’s skills--in his own skills--as you were. How he had been just as reckless and rash as you.

It wasn’t for another five years before you saw him again, still sailing around with your master’s killer, though you had given up on that revenge long before then. 

You had at this point in time found three other like-minded bounty hunters whom you joined up with. Hunters who had been tracking down a pirate unrelated to the boy you had battled with, though who just so happened to be celebrating some sort of victory on the same island. 

You two almost went head to head once more, had it not been for his calm and collected red-headed friend. A friend who had scared the shit out of you, despite his cool nature, so your fight ended swiftly and you left. 

More years passed and the more you ran into the clown. Each time you two found some way to fight--whether it be physical or verbal. A few times that red-headed friend was with him to help break it up, and other times you both were thrown out of whatever bar you had been in. 

You ran into him once more in some backwater bar, sitting alone and nursing a large pint of beer. He smirked your way when he spotted you and, to your surprise, bought you a drink. A drink you took reluctantly, waiting for the moment you would have to defend yourself against him. But instead, he merely talked to you. Told you how his captain had dissolved his crew, leaving him adrift. 

And there was hurt in his eyes. A sense of abandonment that had you carefully telling him of what had been happening in your own shit-filled life. Of a marine whose name you had just recently crossed off your list. How you had finally gotten him after years--gotten revenge for the lives he had taken from you in your youth. 

He’d laughed in something kin to understanding, insisting on buying you another drink to which you declined and went on your way. 

The last time you came across that laugh, you had just been left for dead by your so-called comrades--friends. Left to be found by the very marines you had crossed when you stumbled into a seemingly deserted town. A town you quickly found was overrun with freakish pirates. Freakish pirates who had managed to kidnap you in your weakened state and drag you into an equally freakish circus tent. 

The boy had grown up, just as you had. Had grown up to be captain of this band of freaks. One who had chained the poor people of that town up and used them for his own, sick entertainment. 

But when you saw him, that laugh sounding in your ears, you were reminded of just how much you thought of it. How many of your dreams had been haunted by it’s ring. Of how you, for whatever reason, held a sick sense of respect for him. And his eyes--they were all too bright looking upon you. All too seeing. 

After dramatically introducing you to his crew and captives, he had you dragged off into a back room where you were once more surprised when his freaks cleaned your wounds and gave you some water to drink. 

It was all very strange. It went against the very natural order of the world. The order between the hunter and the hunted. 

It had freaked you out all so much, you escaped before you had to face that haunting laugh and its owner. 

But here it was again, spilling from the red-painted lips of Buggy the clown, captain of the Buggy pirates, locked away in this all too wet marine brig pulling haunting ghosts from your past into the forefront of your mind. 

You kept your eyes trained on the two marines before you, watching them like a hawk. Watching for a slip-up. Something--anything that would help you in this situation. Something that would keep your eyes off the crazed clown and his grating laugh.

“If she’s a pirate, then that would make me one you shithead.” His gruff voice joked. The two marines shared a look between them. One that almost looked to have uneasy undertones to it. 

“You have no right interfering in marine business.” The second shot towards the cell just next to yours, only resulting in more insane laughter filling the air. The first marine just shook his head in growing annoyance. 

“Come on. He’s all locked up. That big-nosed freak can’t do a thing.” The laughter cut off sharply. 

“What did you just as say?” Buggy asked, his tone becoming all that much more serious. That more threatening--dangerous. The Marines bore shit-eating grins, obviously finding his growing pissed-off nature amusing. 

“You know, I never liked clowns. Freaky little fuckers.” The first said as they began heading for the exit once more. 

“This freaky little fucker is going to cut your nose off and force you to eat it when I get out of here.” This only seemed to tickle the marines further and they left without so much as another word. 

The brig was dead as a tomb for a moment you used to look about the confines of your cell, trying to find any weaknesses or things to make a makeshift weapon with so that you could escape sooner rather than later. Buggy gave an exasperated huffing sigh as your eyes locked onto something in the corner, just by the horrible-looking toilet. 

“Yeesh. Some people just don’t know how to have fun.” You all but ignored him, messing with the bit of scrap metal that had been idioticly left unfixed. “Whatcha got there, peach?” He said, using the nickname he had given you after you threw a peach you had mistaken for a rock at him when you had seen him that second time. He had used it ever since then and it’s continued to annoy you.

“Don’t call me that.” You snapped, finally yanking the bit of metal from its last hold on the base of the toilet. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. 

“That’s no fun.” 

“Since when have you ever thought of me and fun at the same time?” You huffed, working on trying to unlock the cuffs that had been slapped around your wrists. It took you a minute to even get the bit of metal into the small keyhole, and with your hands locked together as they were, you hardly saw yourself free any time soon. 

“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself. I think you’re plenty fun. I think you do a fantastically fun job playing pirate bounty hunter.” You again ignored him. Tried not to even hear his all-too-chipper voice as you continued to work. “Playing pirate bounty hunter when you can’t even sail a ship. I think it shows your commitment to the part.” 

You finally snapped around to shoot a daggered glare Buggy’s way, whose usual red-painted lips were pulled up in a wide smile. He knelt before the bars separating the two cells, gloved hands clasped together before him. His clown-styled makeup was smudged in a way that told you he must have been here for a few days. You also noted the absence of his hat, which bore his insignia in the center, leaving him in his red and white striped bandana. 

You couldn’t help the small part of you that wished he was wearing it--the small part that thought it suited him all too well. A small part of you that you shoved down deep. 

Seeing him again after god knows how long was always--staggering. It brought back up such ugly feelings of hatred and utter sadness you’d felt after your master's death. Brought back up how surprised you’d been when he offered you a drink. Brought back up that equally as ugly feeling of respect and misplaced understanding. 

Buggy was an actor--a performer. Of course he would play the part he needed to get you to let your guard down--to not beat him into a pulp. 

It was all so aggravating. 

“It’s not some part.” Buggy rolled his eyes in a dramatic fashion that only made your frustration coil tighter in your chest. “And I can sail a ship.” Buggy let out a sharp mocking laugh. 

“I seem to remember my freaks telling me of the struggle you had trying to leave that small island I found you on.” 

“I had lost a lot of blood.” You said as if you needed to give him any sort of explanation. As if you needed to keep talking to him. Turning away from this intense green-blue gaze, you went back to work on the cuffs. 

“You know, I was rather upset you left without saying goodbye,” Buggy said in fake hurt. “You didn’t even get to see my grand finale.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.” You said in equally mocking tones. 

“I accept your--”

“Fuck off, Buggy. I should have beat your ass while I had the chance. I should have killed you and freed those poor people you terrorized.” Buggy pulled a smirk to his lips. 

“Beat my ass? I seem to remember it was me who kicked your ass last time.” A scoffing huff spilled from your lips. 

“We were ten years old--” 

“Ten in a half.” Buggy quickly corrected like it truly mattered. You shot him a look that said as much. 

“It doesn’t matter. I had no skill back then. No discipline. I would kill you now without ever batting an eye.” That smirk never once left Buggy’s lips, his eyes shining in utter amusement. Eyes that had your gut doing annoying and tiresome little twists. 

“And collect what bounty? Our cheery new friends seem to think you’re nothing but a “no-good pirate” now.” Despite that shot of anger that flared in your chest, you pulled on your own smirking smile. 

“It wouldn’t be for any bounty. It would be for my own amusement.” 

“Peach, if you're trying to flirt with me, it's working.” He all but purred your way. You rolled your eyes and truly went back to unlocking your cuffs. 

No more distractions. No more annoying banter with that clown pirate who grated on your nerves like no other. You couldn’t get caught. Not yet. Not before you got revenge for yourself. Revenge against those who had turned the world against you. “Peach--”

“You truly are horrible.” You snapped, unable to ignore the obvious rise Buggy was trying and successfully getting out of you.

“When I escape and free you,” Buggy started, only for you to cut him off with a scoff.

“You’re delusional.” Buggy rolled his eyes dramatically. 

“When I escape and free you, you’ll have to repay me.” 

“You aren’t freeing me. I can do that just fine on my own.” You snapped.

“Oh, I think I will.” You shot him a glare hoping he would shut up. He, of course, did no such thing. “And after I get us off this ship, I’m thinking you’ll be so overrun with emotion you’ll do something sweet for me.” You shook your head, shoving the bit of metal this way and that within the keyhole. 

“I don’t find your games amusing. I actually find them quite boring.” 

“Now you’re just being mean.” The sudden sound of rusting metal squeaking open pulled your attention away from your work and back onto Buggy. Your jaw all but fell open upon seeing Buggy sauntering out of his cell, his hand popping back onto his wrist, a ring of keys laying there. 

You had watched those Marines. Hadn’t missed a single twitch or breath, so how had you missed Buggy grabbing those keys from around the holder's waist? How had you missed a flying, dismembered hand?

“How--” You watched him unlock your cell door in utter disbelief. Watched as he took the few steps across the way so he was standing in front of you. Watched with a fluttering, tingling belly as he knelt before you, that all too charming smile on his lips. You covered your strange feelings with that of familiar annoyance for him. 

“Peach, I’m gonna let you out, but,” He said, sing-songingly elongating the last word. “I want you on my crew.” That was the last thing you thought you would hear from his lips. It was enough of a shock to squash any and all irritation you held in your chest for the clown.

You two had no like for the other. Every time you saw each other, it was either a fight or a backward attempt to mock and tease the other. You were the hunter and he was the hunted. Why would he ever want you to be near him in such a way? 

You laughed in his face. Laughed wholeheartedly in your unbelieving at his words. Laughed so hard it shook your shoulders. 

“You’re full of it. I despise pirates. I kill your kind for a living.” You snapped at him once you’re laughter subsided. 

“Past living.” You’re disbelief quickly turns back into that of anger. “And you’re perfect.” His words caught you off guard once more. Had you all but freezing up, unable to conquer up your anger.

Perfect. No one had ever uttered such a thing to you. 

It was…strange. You and him--it was all too strange. 

“I collect outcasts, those thrown away by society. Those hurt and betrayed and left to die, bleeding out on some hopeless island.” You felt your eyes suddenly prick in the remainder of your inner wounds. Wounds created by those you had thought were your friends--family. Those who you had loved more than you had ever loved anything in this world. 

Buggy saw all of this with those intent green-blue eyes. He saw this and he understood, despite your many differences. Because he had experienced it too. Had been hurt and left to rot by those he had cared about. 

“My freaks--my crew--don’t turn their backs as easily. I don’t turn my back that easily.” 

An actor--a performer. That’s all he was--all he ever would be…but damn if he wasn’t speaking to your soul. Wasn’t utterly pulling you into those green-blue eyes and that charming smile of his. 

“I--” You didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to do. You should tell him to fuck off. That you would rather stay here and let the Marines drag you off to some prison to be forgotten in. But…but you didn’t say that. Your traitorous heart didn’t let you. “I am no pirate.” You all but whispered. It was a confession rather than a biting hiss.

Buggy smiled, his gloved hand coming up to grab hold of your chin in a grip that was just tight enough to keep you from looking away from him. It was all too much. It felt all too--too right, having the roles switched. Being the frightened sparrow and he the smiling chester cat, ready to snap your neck between his sharp, smiling jaws. 

“Oh, I know.” He whispered back as if it was a secret. “But I think you’ll like it. I think your cage door needs to be unlocked so you can fly free.” Before you could even open your mouth to try and pull together a rambling stream of words, the marine ship shook violently, the sound of cannon fire echoing down into the brig. That wickedly charming smile pulled onto Buggy’s lips. “Right on time.” He pulled his hand from your chin, the absence of his warmth leaving you annoyingly wishing for it back--wishing for more. 

What a strange, strange predicament you were in. What strange, strange emotions. It was all too confusing. Too much.

Buggy dangled the keys in front of your face as the ship was attacked once more. “How about you think on it while I take care of this, peach.” He said, dropping the keys into your lap before standing to his full, towering height. “Though, don’t strain that pretty little head of yours too much.” And with that Buggy left the cold, dank brig. 

You wasted no more time than you had, quickly unlocking the cuffs, which had been rubbing painfully against your skin, and heading in the direction Buggy had disappeared in. 

The next few moments went by in a flash. You getting to the deck and finding Buggy’s freaks had boarded and were mowing down marine after marine, leaving no survivors in their wake. Buggy laughing insanely as he fulfilled the threat he had shot their captor's way. You finding where they had stored your weapons, as well as Buggy’s hat. You killing anyone who got in your way as you found yourself heading for the edge of the ship--found your body had a mind of its own as you jumped, landing on the deck of the circus-themed ship Buggy commanded. 

This was your best and only escape route, you told yourself as you rushed around the ship, trying to find a place you could keep away from the rest of the world so you wouldn’t be found out. That place ended up being the large tent near the back of the ship, washed in shadow and thankfully empty. 

You passed the time by looking around the large area, finding it was very similar to that of the tent Buggy had set up on land all those years ago. 

Finding a pair of stairs, you winded up them, finding a singular chair sitting in the center of the raised platform. A throne, you realized. Buggy’s throne. You traced your fingers over the designs engraved in the wooden seat before sitting down, finding it would be the best place to wait out the fighting and think about your strange predicament. 

“That's my seat.” Buggy’s gruffing voice sounded in your ear a little less than an hour later. It didn’t startle you, his sudden appearance. You had marked his footfalls when he thought he had been sneaking into the tent to do just that. 

“Take it. It’s uncomfortable.” You murmured, pulling yourself from the throne which was, despite your words, rather comfortable. Buggy was much closer than you had originally thought, so close you had to tilt your head up just the slightest bit to look into those green-blue eyes of his. Eyes that never once moved away from your face as he flopped down on his throne, legs spread in some show of dominance. 

“So, tell me peach, what is your answer?” You moved your eyes away from Buggy’s intense stare, looking over his hat which you had taken with you off that marine ship. 

“Why free me?” You questioned, glancing back towards the pirate, whose eyes never seemed to have lifted from your form. 

“Because I’ve been looking for someone to fill the role of knife thrower in my performance. You are good with a blade.” It was a lie. You could tell it was a lie. And it ate at you despite your utter dislike for this pirate. You took a step closer, those green-blue eyes watching your movements. 

“That I am…but tell me something; what makes a pirate buy a drink for a bounty hunter?” You took another, calculated step that the clown marked. He shrugged as if it was no big deal.

“Why not? Getting you drunk seemed like a fun idea at the time.” He cracked a mischievous smile. “Still does.” You gave a small nod, pausing just before him. “You’re dancing around my question, peach. Maybe that's what I should make you.” 

You leaned forward the slightest bit, his knees brushing against your legs, being as close to him as you were. 

“You let me out of my chains. You dressed my wounds when you could have let me bleed out, and for those things, I owe you my life.” Buggy gave a small nod of his own.

“I feel a but coming.” 

“But I can’t be free yet. Not when those who betrayed me are still breathing.” That smile of his stayed in place, but a seriousness you had never seen before filtered into his eyes. A seriousness that spoke of understanding. Of respect. 

Strange--this was all so strange, things between you and him. Between hunter and the hunted. 

“And then?” He questioned. You moved ever closer, you’re legs fitting between his in a strange sort of puzzle. Buggy watched and allowed you to gently tug his hat back onto his head, his breath tickling your lips.

You thought of the way his hand on your chin felt. How it had all but drove you crazy. How you had wished, no matter how absurd, to have it back there--to have more. 

“Tell me why you saved me.” You spoke softly so that Buggy and Buggy alone could hear. “Why do you want me on your crew? Why, when you should have killed me--when you’ve wanted to kill me ever since we were young?” Buggy’s eyes fluttered down to your lips as they moved. A small action that had that buzzing in your body stirring alive once more. 

“I think you know.” He spoke just as softly in that gruffing voice of his. A voice that had been bouncing around in your brain for longer than you liked to admit. 

“I don’t think I do.” Buggy’s eyes narrowed the slightest bit like he was annoyed at your comment. An annoyance you wanted to drag out of him. You knew he didn’t want to admit it. Knew that he probably had never had to explain himself before. “Because I am still under the impression that I am the hunter ready to collect that sizable bounty on your head.” 

“You think my bounty is sizable?” He smirked, continuing to dance around the topic. 

“Enough to get me a ship that floats and an expensive bottle of wine.” You said in an attempt to get under his skin. You saw that flash of irritation in his eyes that made your own smirk pull to your lips. 

“A ship you couldn’t even sail?” He teased, moving closer so that his lips were mere inches away from your own.

Your mind raced to wonder what they might feel like fitted against yours. How it might feel to have his hands running over your skin--to feel his skin. 

It was all too strange, the things he was able to pull from you. Such strange feelings. 

“You annoy me.” You jabbed his way, your eyes fluttered every so often to those red-painted lips of his. 

If you kissed him, would your lips come away just as red?

“You’re eyes annoy me, your laugh, your voice.” Buggy looked as if he was trying to figure out if your words were supposed to be meant as an insult or some backwards complaint. You wondered this as well. 

“And it annoys me that you understand. Say you understand.” You found yourself saying in a biting manner. The pirate looked over your face, seeming unsure of what to do next. Unsure of what to say even when you had just spelled it out for him. 

His hand reached out and took hold of your chin in his solid grip. A grip that sent your stomach fluttering uncontrollably. “I understand.” Was all he said before he was pulling your lips flush against his own. 

You hardly had control of yourself as you kissed him back in a frenzy, all sense of self-control and reason flying out the window. A kiss fueled by your strange, strange feelings for this clown. Feelings a mix of dislike, annoyance, understanding, and respect. Feelings you’d been harboring deep within yourself for a long, long time. 

His kiss burned through you, had your hands grabbing at his jacket and all but ripping it from his body, feeling over his strong, exposed arms. His skin was warm and felt so nice against your own. Skin you wished to feel covering your whole body. 

Buggy hands moved along your body, pulling you closer. His touch sent your skin on fire. A fire that hat engulfed your entire being, demanding to be satisfied. 

Your hands moved downward, over his equally strong chest and abdomen until they found the edge of his pants, your fingers fumbling to undo his buttons. Buggy mimicked your actions, finding and unfastening the buttons there. 

You pulled away from Buggy long enough to hasten along the process of shoving your pants over and off your legs. A process you had hardly finished before Buggy was grabbing you up once more, claiming your lips in a hot, needy kiss. A kiss that felt more like a fight for dominance. A fight the two of you never could seem to truly finish. 

Buggy’s hands took fist fulls of your ass, guiding you up and onto the throne with him, your knees straddling either side of him. Reaching down between the two of you, your hand disappeared into Buggy’s pants, taking hold of is hardened cock and giving it a few good, teasing pumps. He gave a throaty groan that had that heat shoot through your core, making your pussy throb in just as much need as the rest of your body. 

As quickly as you could, you pulled his cock free from the confines of his pants, hardly waiting before you were descending downward, a sweet little moan spilling from your lips. 

Fuck it was good. It felt so good being connected this way. In a way that was slowly filling that yawning need within you. A need you had been holding at bay for a long time. 

“F-fuck, peach.” Buggy moaned into your mouth, his hands moving to hold onto your hips in a near steel-like grip. A grip that guided you further down so that you were fully seated on top of him. “So fucking good.” 

You moaned your own pleasure as you began to move up and down, slowly at first so that you might feel every last inch he had to offer. A pace that gradually quickened, finding that need within you all but commanding you to do so. Grabbing hold of one of Buggy’s hands, you guided his gloved fingers to find that small bundle of nerves that all but begged for his attention. Silently told him just how you liked it to be touched and, surprisingly, he was a quick learner. 

It was good. Almost too good. Never would you have imagined this happening--you fucking this vastly annoying clown. The very clown you’d fought for years. But then again, this was just another sort of fight. A fight for dominance and submission. A fight you much rather preferred over that of brute force and stabbing words. 

Buggy’s lips left yours only to latch onto the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder, sucking and biting in a way that drove you crazy. That sent you quickly spiraling closer and closer over the edge. 

“Oh god--Buggy, I’m--I’m…” His fingers kept circling your clit, bringing you all that much closer to your finish. 

“Come for me, peach. F-fuck--you’re such a sweet little thing.” You moved your face so that you could press your lips against his once more, moan after moan vibrating through your throat. 

So much--too much. It was all so good you’re legs began to turn to jelly. Began to give out under your own weight. Buggy seemed to understand this and pulled away from your clit only so he could grab you up in his strong arms. Arms that held you up as he fuck into you mercilessly.

You spiraled up and up and up until your pussy was clutching around his cock and pure bliss was shooting through you. Buggy’s name flew from your lips as you held onto him for dear life. The pirate gave a few last, grunting thrusts before he was spilling into you. 

Buggy buried his face in your chest, his chest heaving up and down just as your own, both of you fighting to take in the thick air around you. 

The tent was filled with nothing but the sound of your mixing breaths for a long moment. A moment you took the time to run your hands over any and all exposed skin Buggy had to offer. Warm skin that brought you such strange, strange comfort. 

“And then?” Buggy asked, taking you by surprise. It was the same question he had asked you only moments ago. A question of what you would do after you had avenged yourself. You pressed your cheek against the side of his head, your lips brushing over his right ear. 

“Then I will return,” You breathed, feeling Buggy’s body go just that much more still against yours. “And I will be free.”

[topijeramimy]

ONE PIECE FAN LETTER IS PEAK FICTION!

[fanaticsnail]

WHATS UPP, so I read the dreaming of you oneshot thingy on your page (Koby, smoker AND HELMEPPO) so I was wondering if you would be able to make something more of helmeppo. I read your request page and I know you might not write it but i was just curious. I’m not picky at all but since it’s helmeppo i figured it could be something like enemies to lovers.. (DOES NOT HAVE TO BE THAT IM FINE WITH ANYTHING!!) I’ve never requested anything on tumblr so sorry if I’m doing it wrong btw. I have a playlist if you’d like that for ideas 😼 (https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0q63LD9Kt49EDxlOxCCQ7m?si=cWh4kWT-SR-x2evxlXn97Q&pi=u-vige6yADR-Oe) SORRY ITS A LONG LINK 😨

Hi there! I love how enthusiastic you are about Helmeppo. Not gonna lie, I definitely felt the need to write him a one-shot after that one. I love your playlist!

Bound to the Enemy

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 5,100+

Synopsis: Engaged in a heated battle between pirates and marines on neutral ground had the locals enact a punishment befitting the crime. Bound back to back with a marine, you come up with a plan to work together to break out of the trap and return to your crew.

Themes: Helmeppo x reader, enemies to lovers, mutual loathing, mutual pining, peril and dread, kissing, fluff, little bit of angst, bittersweet farewells.

Notes: Chef-Husband has been making me watch MacGyver. I apologise if this wasn't exactly what you were looking for, but I did have a lot of fun with it.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training

Slowly bobbing your head from side to side, you hummed a merry tune from your childhood to reverberate and ricochet within the damp cavern walls. Drops of water from the pointed stalactites dripped onto your head, drenching your already soaked clothes with further murkiness from the oceanic roof.

The ropes gripping your shoulders and wrists burned with a crude jolt from your companion behind you, causing you to yelp mid-word with your song. In light of his tugging, you simply laughed and sang louder. 

“The sails lay flat, the wind in her back; the ropes lay in a bind,” you yelled your tune, the echo of your voice calling back at you in a taunting mockery, “The women did wail, as the sailors set sail, leaving their seed behind-.”

“-Are you quite finished?!” His aggravated tone cut your voice off, tugging the ropes and prompting you to lull your head behind you on his shoulder. “It’s bad enough being bound to a damn pirate, let alone one that doesn’t shut up!” You laughed from your position, back to back and tied to the enemy while sitting atop a large rock and awaiting death. 

“Aww, pretty marine,” you coo at him behind you, nuzzling almost affectionately against his shoulder with a hint of teasing, “I thought my singing would bring such joy as we await our imminent doom.” He shrugged away from your head, prompting you to laugh harder as he burned you with the intensity of your ties. 

Both of your hands were bound to each other at the wrists, your companion wriggling and attempting to free himself the moment he awoke from behind you. Your crews arrived at this strange island at the same time, immediately engaging in a heated battle filled with bloodshed and chaos. The locals did not take kindly to the ruckus and immediately implored you to stick to their stance with neutrality. 

Both your crew and the marine crew surrendered and awaited adequate punishment for tainting the shore with battle and bloodshed. The punishment chosen for you was to select a member of each crew, bind them together in ropes, and place them in a cave mouth to await the tide to enter. If you managed to escape before the water choked you with its salty embrace, the marines and the pirates would be permitted to leave. If you drowned, both crews would live out the days on the island and serve the queen as her loyal slaves. 

Before your captain or the pink-haired marine captain could react and volunteer themselves, both you and the blondie stepped forward and gave yourselves up. Without further warning, both of you were injected with a local toxin to cause you to fall into a deep slumber, likely to make the journey more difficult to return to your crews. 

“These ropes are strong,” he growled, thrusting his chest forward and prompting you to arch your back up into him, “I can’t get the damn thing loose.” You simply offer him a condescending “Mm-hmm, that’s the point,” and let him keep moving your body around to wriggle free. 

“When you’re quite ready,” you offer him, wincing as he leaned forward, “I have a blade hidden in my back pocket. I can reach it, but I will need you to stop wriggling so I can get to it.” He huffed out an exasperated breath and you felt him shake his head in agitation. 

“And why are you telling me this now, pirate?” he growled at you, attempting to look at you over his shoulder to no avail, “You could’ve cut us out the whole time, and neglected to mention it?” You laughed, feeling his hands go limp to allow you to search through your pockets without a struggle. 

“You were too busy being a grumpy marine to use your mind,” you shrugged, feeling the handle of the blade with your fingertips, “Always underestimating your opponents and too hot headed to exercise your brain along with your other muscles.” You use your index and middle fingers to draw the blade closer to you, finally clutching it in your hands. 

The seaspray began to rise, the cave mouth starting to fill with the swell of water just as you readied the small knife to cut your bonds. 

“If I nick you with the blade,” you smirk, beginning to cut through the fibers, “I’m not sorry.” The man behind you began to growl at you, holding still and allowing you to work at the ropes with ease. The first few strands came loose, giving your wrists enough room to wriggle a little easier to get enough momentum to cut easier. 

“What’s your name, anyway, marine?” you asked him suddenly, feeling a little bolder and at ease now that your bonds were turning loose. He inhaled a soft breath, uttering quietly to you in response. 

“Helmeppo,” he confessed his name with a soft nod, “And you, pirate?” You giggle in response, uttering your name hastily before rolling his title over on your tongue to sample the flavor. 

“And who are you to your captain, Helmeppo?” you ask him, humming the same tune from earlier, a little quieter as you worked. He exhaled a laugh through his nose, “I am his first mate and swordsman. You?” 

“I am the navigator and blade thrower,” you nod along, the tune never ceasing as you feel one of your wrists finally come loose. You raise it to your side and give it a soft shake and breathe slowly while stretching the limb. 

Making quick work on the other side now that your wrist was free, you reach up and begin to saw at the bonds around your chest and shoulders, noticing the ties are a little more complex than you assumed they were initially. Cutting through the strands, you finally feel them come loose enough to wriggle free. 

“Well now,” you sighed in relief, beginning to stand on the large rock and look down to the icy depths of the sea, “Can you swim, first-mate? Not a devil-fruit user by any chance, are you?” You looked to the blonde man beside you as he shook his head.

“I’m not the best swimmer, unfortunately,” he confessed, looking down at the sea rising up the rock, “Not a user, though. I can stay afloat just fine.” You nod along, looking at the cave mouth and angling your chin to the side with narrow eyes. 

“That doesn’t look right to me,” you nod your forehead to the mouth of the cave, “The light is all wrong, and the swell in water is too rapid. I think it's a false entrance.” He looked to the mouth and nodded his head along. 

“You’re the navigator,” he nodded to you, testing your knowledge beneath his staring gaze, “I am electing to trust you with this. Where do you think we should start?” You hummed in thought, gazing up at the roof and narrowing your eyes at the sight of the luminescent lights surrounding the stalactites. 

“Not a swimmer, but are you a climber?” you asked him, reaching for his chin with your index finger and thumb before turning his attention to the ceiling, “We need to go up there.” He allowed you to move his face and look at the small opening in the roof wall. He sighed another huff of exasperated breath and shook his head.

“If I had my sword, it would be far easier to scale the walls,” he nodded, looking around the rock you were standing on. The surface was like an island in comparison to the other rocks surrounding the room, no way off the surface without swimming, and no way up without reaching the spherical sides to the rocky room. 

You hummed, tucking your blade back behind you and looked down into the water, noticing a faint light coming from the center beneath the rock. Widening your eyes, you stared more intentionally beneath the water, noticing the light began to travel towards you both. 

“Helmeppo?” you ask him with a small hint of panic, backing away from the water below, “I don’t think we’re alone in here.” You held onto his arm and dragged him to the center of the rock, looking up at the tiny hole in the roof before looking at your blonde, apprehensive companion. 

Darting his eyes down to the depths below, he noticed the same scaly visage beneath the surface, swirling in a circle around the rock you were marooned on. He darted his eyes back to you and drifted his eyes frantically around your features. 

“A sea beast?” He asked in a low tone, prompting you to nod in confirmation. He sucked in a hiss through his teeth and looked up to the small hole above you, “We’re going to need to find some type of raft to have us go through the water towards the walls, and pray the beast doesn’t consume us. Then climb to the top of the cave with nothing but our knuckles, aren’t we?”

You look up at the ceiling before looking at the fraying strands of rope you hacked at moments prior. Cursing under your breath, you dropped to your knees and began reweaving the strands that you cut with your dagger. 

“Fuck,” you bark at yourself, grimacing as you hastily rotate the strands and coil them back together. He looked down to your position and his eyes widened in horror as he realized what was occurring. Sniffing back your stupidity, the water continued racing in from the false cave mouth and elevating the water level higher. 

“Can you fix it before the water reaches us?” He looked to the ropes before looking towards the rapidly rising sea water. You growled, balling your hands into fists and continuing to coil the strands around each other.

“It’ll get done,” you assure him with a rumbly growl in your tone, “But it’s not going to be reinforced enough to hold both of our weight at once.” He cocked his head to the side, a perplexed expression drifting over his face. 

“What do you mean?” he asked, kneeling beside you and searching your face for hidden intentions. You huff out a shaky breath, gesturing to your back pocket and to the ends of the rope. 

“I’m going to attach the rope to the blade, throw it through the hole and wind against a stalactite,” you nod upwards, refusing to turn your eyes away from your busy hands. “Then we're going to climb through the hole and reach the surface,” you admit, finally looking up at him, “But we can’t both go at the same time. The rope is too frail and fragile.” 

His eyes widened, searching your eyes for dishonesty and ill intent. Upon finding none, he growled beneath his breath. 

“So, what then?” he huffed out, a small scoff underlying in his tone, “One of us climbs up and then the other begins the climb up after? Is that what you’re suggesting-.”

“-That’s precisely what I’m suggesting,” you cut him off with a soft snarl, “One of us will have to wait and trust the other from their position above.” You continued coiling and twisting the ropes, your hands shaking in a soft rage and lip quivering in reaction to the fear of what’s to come. 

After a soft moment of silence, you concluded your twisting and looked up at the blonde-haired marine beside you. 

“I have impeccable aim,” you reassure him, fastening the end to your blade after you retracted it from your rear pocket, “Hold the end of the rope and let me aim, please. In silence.” He nodded, eagerly taking your orders and you breathed through your concerns as the water rose over the soft edge. 

The fins of a large creature slowly flew above the surface, Helmeppo’s eyes widening as he witnessed the scaly spine of the Sea Beast below the surface. You refused to tear away your eyes from the target ahead, exhaling slowly as you aimed at the wall within the hole. 

In a swift thrust, you threw the blade within the air and the rope began to soar through the barely illuminated dome towards the stalactites. Embedding with a swift thud, the end of the rope was hanging limply within Helmeppo’s hands as he continued to search the water for the approaching beast circling below. 

Turning to him and noticing his look, you breathed out a melancholy breath of air. Hardening your resolve, you gently reached up and squeezed his shoulder to draw his attention back to you.

“Right then,” you nodded with a hasty sniff of steely determination, “Off you go. Quickly.” He turned to you, looking down in shock as you gestured for him to begin the climb. He began to speak, prompting you to shake your head and halt his thoughts. 

“Helmeppo,” you reassured him, squeezing him once more, “This is how it has to be. I am a pirate, a blade thrower and a navigator. You are the first-mate to a marine captain and a swordsman. I would not be able to help you with the rope once I got up there, if anything goes awry,” you confess, softly giving him a pat to spur him on, “You would likely not trust me to aid you anyway, and I feel like you would do the right thing if given the opportunity to do so.” 

His shock deepened, the rope feeling hot in his hands the longer he held it between his fingers. 

“Go, Helmeppo,” you tapped him once more to break him out of his frantically racing thoughts. He gave you a soft nod, gulping back his nerves and beginning a hasty climb up the ropes. He tested his weight, tugging firmly twice before throwing his entire weight into his ascension. 

You had no choice but to watch on as the rope began to bend under the strain of his weight. Looking to the water, the levels began gently rising in soft, taunting ripples as the tide began to come in. A call of your name from the blonde swordsman above the ropes redrew your attention to Helmeppo above you.

“Distract yourself,” he ordered you, straining as his arms and thighs curled around the hanging rope. “Sing your silly songs to me, talk to me about your crew, tell me anything you want.” He growled, gritting his teeth and tugging his body above the rope. You gulped back your fear and inhaled a deep lungful of air.

“I have only ever known a life of piracy,” you confessed, nodding your confirmation and solidifying your words, “Born and raised on the sea, reading the stars and charting my course.” 

Helmeppo grunted on the ropes, continuing his slow climb as the water rose around you. You continued thinking about the circumstances that brought you here to this moment. Smiling a soft smile, you look down at your toes and reminisce about your life. 

“I learned to read the stars from my mother,” you nod slowly, laughing a soft chuckle as you add, “I look like her, too. The crew says she and I are nothing alike, but I like to think we're similar. She was a noble.” You admit, looking back up to Helmeppo as he nearly reached the top. 

He huffs and pants, finally drawing his fingers up to the coarse wall and reaching for a sturdy rock to grip. Reflecting on your words, he thinks over your confessions with interest but remains too preoccupied in his task to ask you any questions. 

The water rises closer to your toes, two beady eyes glaring at you beneath the surface and waiting for the water to lap at your ankles before making its move. You pay the eyes no mind, looking up and reassuring Helmeppo as he attempts to grip the walls for a third time to no avail. 

“You're doing well,” you offer him with no malice or sarcasm in your tone, “Take your time, I'll be right here.” He scoffed out a soft laugh at your response, wedging the rope between his thighs and using your blade attached to the top to pull himself closer to the wall. 

The water caresses your toes with a soft propulsion, your heels not faring better as the water continues to rise to the peak of the small, rocky island within the damp dome. You scrunch your eyes shut, thinking about the outcome should you both fail this task. Both crews would perish on this island in servitude for the locals, your crews would mourn for you, and you would be good for the beast below the surface. 

“You can do this, Helmeppo,” you again reassure him, gulping back your shaking fear and propelling confidence in your tone. “You are a swordsman, a first-mate to your captain. You have worked hard to earn those titles, just like you're working hard now. You can do this.” 

Hearing your encouragement, his hands finally find purchase on the walls, anchoring himself against the hole in the surface and beginning his climb up. Just as he finally leans up, the dagger in the wall comes loose, the rope falling limp between his thighs and held up by his body alone. 

Your eyes widen, your shock and his igniting desperation in your pulse. He grunted through the adrenaline, groaning as he lifted himself above the hole and braced himself against the walls. The rope began to slip, his hands darting out and grasping it before it fell back down below. 

“I-I'm-...” He panted, attempting to catch his breath. Shutting his eyes and furrowing his brows, he inhaled deeply and focussed his breath, “...I'm going to have to pull you up.” His voice quivered, his lips shaking as he was overcome from momentary exhaustion at the swift climb. 

“We-...” You began, feeling your shoes begin to dampen with the rise in water lapping at your boot heels, “...We’ll wait until you're ready. Take your time.” Helmeppo looked down, noticing the sea beast had begun to circle around the slowly disappearing island and exhaled a shaky breath. 

Before he had joined the marines officially, he would've wanted nothing more than to leave you down there to drown. He would've cowered in his own fear and scampered up the hole without second thought.

But as he stared down at you, looking at the smile you had on your lips as you gazed up at him, the enemy, he was compelled to remember all he learnt from Bogard and Garp. He was a marine, a swordsman, and now the first-mate to his superior and best friend. He was no longer his father's son, a sniveling asshole with no marks on his resume to back up his superiority complex. 

He was Helmeppo: first mate to Captain Koby, and a superior sword fighter on a journey to becoming the best. 

Anchoring a few coils of rope around his waist, he gestures for you to do the same. You follow his directions, tying your hips together and wedging the strands between your legs as a makeshift harness. He extends his legs, parting his thighs and bending his knees to brace himself within the opening beneath the moonlight. Taking the rope in fistfuls, he begins to slowly draw hand after hand of rope and pool the hefty coils over his palm and elbow. 

“K-Keep talking to me,” he uttered, wincing as he felt the overexertion of his muscles burning under the weight. “Keep t-talking. Anchor your weight and tell me about yourself.” His breath hitched, his brows furrowing as he grit his teeth. 

You choose not to look down, opting only to grant him your smile as he lifts your body higher above the doom lurking below. 

“Before I left my home,” you laughed, bracing your arms against the ropes with your forearms, “I was meant to settle down and have an army of children,” you both chuckled at the notion, his hands crawling along the strands and coiling them up higher. 

“That something you want for yourself?” He winced through the strain of the ordeal, looking beneath you and noticing the rocky island was completely engulfed in water. The eyes continued to observe the two of you with interest, the creature lingering beneath the depths smiling its toothy grin.  

“Absolutely not,” you confess with a laugh, gripping the ropes further and clambering up alongside his cooking advances, “I only want the open sea, the wind in the sails, and the stars to point me to my next destination.” He snickered down, growling as his limbs began to burn. 

“T-Truly?” he responded with a taught snicker, “No desire to settle down and retire one day?” He continued tugging the rope and lifting you through the final threshold of the journey. 

“Not in my plan, no,” you retorted, finally lifting yourself between his thighs by grasping his hips and hoisting you with your arms extended. Anchoring your heels at the wall behind you, you had no choice but to fall into his chest upon ascension. 

His eyes never left your face, floating over your features and gazing up at you. Falling flat on his chest, you wriggled between his legs and drew yourself up through the partition in his thighs. You furrowed your brows as you found purchase on the wall beyond his shoulders, his eyes darting between yours and his lips parted and panting. 

“Sorry,” you muffled your apologies, leaning back and gazing into his eyes. Your breath hitched, looking over his features and finally taking a moment to breathe him in. He was handsome, one of the most handsome men you had seen in some time: almost pretty. 

His eyes focussed on your lips, momentarily forgetting the doom lingering below and taking you in for all that you were. You were beautiful, even for a pirate. 

“We-...” he began, offering his hand out to you and aiding you between his legs, “...we should begin the climb. Can't-...” his eyes darted down to your lips and lingered there a moment longer, “-We can't leave them waiting, and the water is rising.”

You looked at his face, smiling as you hastily pushed yourself up the walls and looked down at the marine first-mate beneath you. 

“Better hurry up then, blondie,” you sneered down at him before scampering throughout the walls and hovering up the small opening. He chuckled, taking a moment to catch his breath before following up the hole after you. 

The water rises further below you two, your anxieties both propelling you to use each other as anchor points to propel you further up the hole towards the surface. 

“Try to keep up, marine,” you teased him in soft snickers, his own laugh joining yours the longer you teased him. 

“Speak for yourself, pirate,” he responded in kind, his eyes staring at your body the further up the chasm you clambered. The water began to swell further beneath you, both of you praying in gratitude that you understood the false entry that drew in the tide. 

The starlight welcomed you into the night, you hoisted your torso up through the birthpoint and your eyes both met the cloudless sky above. As you exited the hole, you reached down and offered Helmeppo your arm to grip and raise through the tunnel mouth. 

With a soft smirk, he clasped his hand over your forearm and used your arm to draw himself up through the small opening. Before falling onto his back and panting, he assessed the surroundings and noticed there truly was no entry to the cave from below. You were right, and he was ever grateful you noticed the trap lingering below. 

Lying flat on your backs either side of the hole and catching your breath, you looked to the constellations and began searching through your mind for any direction towards your crewmates. 

While you were distracted by charting the stars, Helmeppo began untying the bonds circling his waist and carefully coiling the ropes for later purpose. He wound the fibers into a neat pile beside him, before crawling on his hands and knees towards you and beginning to draw his fingers against your flesh as you muttered stars to yourself. 

“The Marina Comet besides Genfry’s Belt,” you whispered, barely processing the fingers dancing over your skin and loosening the knots surrounding your pelvis. “Which means the anchor point for our vessel should be beside the Sialin Dip and Hogir Spear.” Your whispers earned you a chuckle from your blonde-haired companion as he loosened the knots of rope girdling your waist.

After uttering your final vantage point, you began to giggle. The laughter became almost overbearing as the adrenaline teetered off and lay in wake to the lethargy you were both experiencing.

The physical trial between the two of you amongst sea beasts, bondage, and trickery had each breath you took feeling like a gift to the senses. Upon loosening the final knot, Helmeppo flopped to the position beside you and chuckled into the stars. You joined him, your rambunctious laughter serenading him as you did a few hours prior with your shanties of old. 

“Any-... Any thoughts on where our crews are right now?” he offered with teetered laughter. You rolled onto your side and placed your hand on his chest and gave him a soft pat in response. 

“We have about a forty minute trek through the jungle before we reach the shore,” you giggled, leaning over him and gazing into his eyes, “And then it’ll be about an hour after that to make it to our ships.” You reached up, brushing his blonde hair from his face and gently caressing his cheek. 

His breath hitched as his eyes met with yours, wide and shocked to receive such affection from the enemy. Conflicting emotions swirled in his mind the moment his gray orbs met your half-lidded gaze. Before he could speak, you spoke for him in a soft endearing tone. 

“You know, you’re really quite pretty,” you speak as if your words contained a soft secret within. His Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed a dry mouthful of saliva and parted his quivering lips up to you. Giggling at his response, you go to draw yourself away from his embrace, only to have your wrist collected in his hand. 

As you knit your brows up in confusion, he immediately sat up and drew your body close to himself. His unoccupied hand cradled the back of your head in a firm grip and drew your lips up to collide with his in a soft kiss. A squeak fled your lips in shock as your eyes remained wide and staring into the furrowed brow of your enemy.

His golden hair stuck to his face in stringy, damp strands from the salty drips from the cavern roof. The stars illuminated his pale skin and allowed you to take a glimpse at the rosy blush rising against his cheeks. You finally hum into his lips, circling his waist with your unclasped wrist, and rising to sit in his lap on the grassy patch beside the hole leading down to your prior prison. 

You take his kiss as an expression of relief in reclaiming freedom, his joy at being alive and making it through the trial laid out below. Returning his kiss, you allow yourself to give in to your own relief in making it through the trial and rotate your chin to deepen the oscillation. His heart shot to this throat as he released your wrist to circle his arm around your shoulders and hold you close. 

Finally and firmly breaking you away from his lips, he gazed up at you with adoration and an unspoken fondness for you. His lips were bruised by the intensity of your kiss which prompted your hands to raise to his cheeks and run your thumb over his bottom lip. Smiling down at Helmeppo, you softly offer him a small tease in your tone.

“C’mon, pretty boy,” you narrow your eyes and scrunch up your nose with your smile, “Let’s go free our crews and get off this forsaken island.” He panted slowly caressing your hair and pressed his forehead against yours briefly. 

“You’re going to be the death of me, pirate,” he smiled in his tone, briefly closing his eyes. He broke away contact from your forehead and aided you to your feet. Returning your dagger to you, he hooked the coil of rope over his shoulder and let it lay circling his hip. 

“After all we’ve been through? I wouldn’t dream of it,” you smile in response, placing your dagger in your back pocket and readjusting your clothes, “But do try to keep up, lover. You may be strong, but I’m faster.” You began to set an easy and hasty pace trekking through the jungle towards the coastline where your crews were waiting for you.

Aiding each other through the uneven jungle floor, and sneaking in subtle touches and holds to brace each other in support, your affection for the marine swordsman only grew. His eyes only ever left your body and face to briefly glance ahead to brush away a wandering branch from blocking your path. His chivalry was a welcome change to the bruising affection you and your crew displayed to one another. 

His thoughts and emotions clouded his judgment, finally giving in to the emotion he was attempting to stifle. He was smitten with the enemy, and he knew you were likely to never see each other again after this adventure. Willing to take any touch you were permitting him to press you with, he committed the feel of your hands on his skin to memory. 

He was in love, and you were feeling much the same. You both laughed at the true tragedy of the rising emotions the moment your crews came into view with the local government. Without much thinking, you hastily press a soft kiss to his cheek before sprinting to your captain on the sandy shore without further words. 

Eyes shut and hands rose in front of him, he bid you a wordless farewell. Opening his eyes and watching your hair bounce behind you, he felt a piece of his heart leave him and join with your own. Sparing him a look over your shoulder, you shot him a soft wink and giggled in glee at witnessing his eyes still firmly fixed on your retreat. 

You were smitten with your marine swordsman, something that the crew would likely tease you about for the whole duration of your journey out to the sea. You looked to the marine ship, your hands splayed on the wooden rail as you met the gaze of Helmeppo aboard his vessel. Gifting him a soft wave and a broad grin, he returned the gesture with a bashful smile and eyes left wanting. 

Taking a mental note of the stars, you prayed that one day their soft illuminance would guide you two to meet again. 

[kacievvbbbb]

Shanks, because he is infinitely more politically minded than Mihawk (a man actually in the government) will ever have the patience to be, is more than likely aware that the marines will be extremely rattled and that the blow back would be intense if a Warlord of the sea was seen around an Emperor.

And sinces he’s not trying to cause a WG incident everytime he tried to go on a date with his pretty bird and also because he’s just a troll at heart. Shanks has collection of increasingly ridiculous giant sunglasses that he insists (read pouts) that Mihawk wear to hide his gorgeous eyes, before they go anywhere they could be seen.

What started out as a “necessity” had quickly grown into Shanks’ pet project of finding out just how absurd a pair of sunglasses could be and how much would he have to beg before Mihawk put them on?

[thecorruptedquietone]

Well when ya sink like a stone and ya misplace the anchor it's no wonder ya get used to keep the ship in place!

Day 1: Anchor for Mariner May 2024! Posted also on Twitter.

[kaziwi]

Hii! I love your writings very much! For the event prompt.. number 3 with Smoker? 🥺

YAYYYY SMOKER REQUESTTTT thank you sm for requesting him i was so scared no one was gonna

Link to Event

"You're heavy..."

Character(s): Smoker

WC: 778

If someone told you this morning you'd be carrying Vice Admiral Smoker on your back, you would have laughed in their face.

You weren't laughing now.

Earlier today Smoker had gotten a report that there were some pirates who robbed a marine based that wasn't too far from where the G-5 was sailing. They had stolen some important documents and weapons, and Smoker was determined to stop them. After finding the island, there was an all out battle between the pirates and the G-5. Being the G-5, you of course won, but after the battle was over no one could find Smoker. Tashigi ordered everyone to split up and search the island, and you had been the lucky one to find him. Apparently he had been hit with a sea stone bullet from one of the weapons the pirates stole. It was funny at first, seeing the Vice Admiral flopped on the ground like a fish, but when he suggested you carry him back, you got quiet fast.

And that's how you ended up in this situation.

"Could you maybe go a little faster..." Smoker groaned weakly on your back. It was hard to move when he was much heavier than you. Him being like 1000 feet tall and having the biggest, heaviest muscles in the world didn't help.

"I'm trying here," you hissed, "It's not as easy as it looks..."

Smoker was usually a calm man, but this was a very different circumstance. He wasn't trying to sound rude, but he needed to get back to the rest of the G-5 as quick as possible. He needed to know if any of his men were hurt and if they had lost anybody. There was no time to waste.

Unbeknownst to him, you had hurt your ankle while in the battle. It wasn't too bad at first, so you didn't mention it, but after carrying him and putting weight on your ankle, it was starting to get to you.

After a few more minutes of walking, you couldn't take it anymore. You slowly lowered him down, propping him up against a tree while you laid down on the mountain floor.

"Why'd you stop," Smoker yelled, "We need to get back to the ship, the rest of the men need me." If he didn't have a sea stone bullet in him right now, he'd pick you up and run back to the ship, but he was too weak to even clench his fist.

You on the other hand were dying. Not actually, but it felt like it. Your ankle felt like someone had dropped a 10000 pound weight on it and you were still exhausted from the earlier battle. You slowly turned your head to Smoker and croaked out, "You're heavy..."

Smoker didn't know why, but hearing the rasp of your voice, made him look past his worry for the rest of the G-5. He finally took in you appearance, your exhaustion, and most importantly your ankle, which look like a bone was basically sticking out of it.

"Shit..." he sighed, "Looks like we're both stuck here...no way you're moving anytime soon."

You wanted to retaliate, but you were too tired to do anything but pant.

Smoker looked defeated for a minute, till he remembered something.

"In my back pocket, there's a mini transponder snail, grab it we can call Tashigi."

You honestly did not want to move, but he did give you an order. You slowly crawled over to him and reached into his pocket. You picked up the snail and dialed Tashigi's number.

"SMOKER," you heard from the end of the other line, "ARE YOU OKAY?? WHERE ARE YOU??"

"Tashigi, calm down, I'm okay. I'm with Y/N, but we are both pretty beat up. How's everyone else?"

"Everyone else is fine sir, only minor injuries." You could almost see the weight being lifted off of Smoker's chest.

"We're gonna need some medics and a stretcher, so try to find us as quick as possible.." Smoker gave a quick description of the area you both were in, and then ended the call.

"Help is coming soon, so just relax," the Vice Admiral stated. It was quiet again, the only sounds being the forest that surrounded you and your deep breaths. Smoker cleared his throat, looking a bit nervous, then spoke again.

"Thank you, for putting up with my persistence, I just wanted to make sure the rest of the men were alright," a pause, "and thank you for carrying me even though you were injured....you should be proud to call yourself a marine."

A warm smile crept on his face, and soon you followed.

"Anytime Vice Admiral."

[rebelliousdandy]

didnt think id walk away from opla shipping garp and zeff, but here we are

[hannahbarberra162]

Can't Fix Fix A Broken Heart - Chapter 3

Now on Ao3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 4 All chapters

TW: crying, mentions of abuse, brief mentions of death, anxiety

Notes: I HC Thatch as being Mexican. We're getting a little yandere-y...

Also I don't think I mentioned but this is AU where Thatch, Ace, and Whitebeard don't die because I love them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren’t really sure what you were doing. Your body was moving but you didn’t feel like you were controlling any of it. You couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything, could barely breathe. You realized you were still clutching the poster in your hand, so you forced yourself to relax your grip and put it in the pocket of your apron. You crouched down on your heels by the end of the alley with your head in your hands. You started rubbing your fingers on your scalp as a way to try to ground yourself in the moment. All the stupid bullshit methods of self regulation you had been reading about weren’t working. Your thoughts were swirling like a maelstrom, threatening to drown you in their chaos. You were angry so very angry and sad and scared so very scared and worried and back to angry. 

You didn’t know how much time had passed but at some point you picked up your head and saw Thatch seated next to you leaning against the side of the alley. Even though you saw him already, it still spooked you to see him so close. You jerked a little bit but didn’t move your position. 

“Rough news, huh?” he said with a gentle tone. 

“Yeah.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet another Fourth Division Commander!” his light hearted joke didn’t land as you didn’t respond. You could barely process your own thoughts, let alone navigate social interactions.

“I’m not a pirate” you said and sat all the way down next to him. You bent your knees to your chest and placed your head on top of them.

“No offense mamacita, but I didn’t think you were. So what’s with the bounty then? Are you a Marine on the run? We have a few Marine contacts if you ne–”

“I am NOT a Marine” you said emphatically as you shot him a look of malice. Immediately you deflated - he didn’t deserve your ire. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t called for. I just…I’m just angry. Not at you, though.” You absently started to fix some of the cracked cobblestones near you. It was a good outlet for your energy at least. 

“I thought all the Twisted Pirates were killed a long time ago. I haven't heard about them in years” Thatch said, scratching his goatee.

“Yeah, they were.”

“And the Marines are saying you’re the Twisted’s Commander? So if you’re not a Marine and you’re not a pirate, what’s going on? That’s a huge bounty for a civilian.”

You looked into his eyes and grimaced. You were already in so much trouble, you didn’t think telling anyone at this point would make a difference. Besides, he looked like he might actually listen. You weren’t sure you could make it through the story without crying, but taking in a shaky breath you started. 

“Um, well… about 7 years ago my island was attacked by the Twisted pirates. The pirates destroyed everything on the island and took me with them. I was with them for a while until they were defeated by Marines. The Marines took me from the pirates and kept me on their ship for about 5 years. A few months ago, the ship I was on was wrecked and I ended up on this island. I guess they want me back.”

Thatch was listening and watching you intently. Your eyes had started to water so you turned your head to face the other way. 

“What do you mean they kept you on their ship? Like they forced you to join their ranks?”

You turned your face back towards him and shook your head. “No. At first when they brought me on their ship I was so grateful. I thought they would take me back to my island or somewhere closeby. But they saw my devil fruit power and just kept me on the ship as an unprocessed pirate captive. They never took me to a base, never charged me with anything, just…kept me on their boat. Since I was never processed on any Marine base, there was no record of my so-called rescue or how I came to them. I had no status, no rights. I was just there to do with as they wanted. ”

You were crying now, tears running down your cheeks as you talked. “All the other Twisted pirates were killed in battle, so there was no one to corroborate my side of the story. They said I was a pirate since I have a jolly roger on me and it was my word against Marine officers.”

Thatch reached into his coat pocket and handed you a handkerchief. For a moment he hesitated, seeming to want to dry them himself. But you were glad he let you do it himself.

“So I stayed there, a prisoner on the ship. They never let me leave the boat or be seen by other officers or commanders or anything. I fixed their ship all the time, I worked a lot….stuff like that. They weren’t…nice to me. Then the ship sank, so…” you trailed off, feeling deflated. You didn’t feel like talking anymore about what had happened. Your initial adrenaline had worn off and you were feeling exhausted.

Thatch tilted his head with a concerned look on his face, and extended his arm to pat your back with his hand. He didn’t touch you immediately, but waited until you nodded slightly at him. His large hand started rubbing soothing circles on your back while your tears dried. It felt…nice. Warm. You laid your head back down on your knees and closed your eyes. No one had rubbed your back in…you couldn’t remember. You hoped he wouldn’t stop.

Thatch POV

Even though he was gently rubbing your back, Thatch was smoldering with rage inside. If you weren’t there he would have punched a hole through the brick wall. He hoped he was keeping a neutral enough expression on his face. The last thing you needed was to see more aggression.

Kept as a slave for years on a Marine ship? No wonder you were so upset when he asked if you were a Marine. He couldn’t imagine your time on the pirate boat had been any better either. He was sure there was even more to the story underneath the surface of what you had said. He wanted to ask you questions but now wasn’t the time. 

It was obvious that the Marines wanted you back to continue using you for your Devil Fruit and who knows what else. All the women he had ever met who were captives held deep and lasting trauma. With your fruit he couldn’t imagine how much money you’d saved the Marines over the course of 5 years, completing repairs for free. He was sure someone high up got a fat bonus for saving money on the bottom line, too. Based on your wanted poster picture, they were running you ragged. He wondered how they kept you a secret from all the other crews and officials.

For a measly 25,000 Beri they’d be able to have their free service back without having to look for you. You would fall prey to the first bounty hunter to look for you since you weren’t a fighter and didn’t have connections. It was a good plan from the Marines, but not one he was going to let happen.

Thatch noticed you started crying again, completely silent. You seemed to be used to crying and either no one caring - or worse - being hurt for making noise. Your jumpiness and nervousness made more sense with the new information. 

“Pobrecita…no te preocupes…estoy aquí” Thatch started cooing to you in Spanish, saying whatever came to his mind. Even though he was enraged at the situation and feeling sorry for you, he did notice how sweet you looked crying like this. You were like a little doll, a little broken thing he could have and fix. Thatch knew himself well enough to recognize his protective - and possessive - streak. You were so sad, so worried, so fragile. He knew what he wanted - he just needed the others inside to agree. And how could they not? After all, you were so helpless in such a big, bad world...