#pirates of the scary seas

[megdchristopher]

A quick one to get back on track for the Drawloween prompt ‘Pirates of the Scary Seas.’ An homage to the DIY of Our Flag Meets Death - what’s scarier than change?

[syriasirlay]

Drawlloween 2023 Day 5

Some spooky pirates for Day 5. Featuring Sammy and Alvaseer as some ghostly pirates, and me as a little ghost parrot.

Posted using PostyBirb

[tinytrexstudios]

#Drawlloween2023 Day 5: Pirates of the Scary Seas

[mossymandibles]

Apprecition for Kraw’s gradual horn growth over the years. So proud of him.

He’s almost like that sheriff with the hat in scary movie

[hauntingblue]

One thing oden and ace teach us is that bad bitches go early so you can understand how worried I am for nami....

[dillydallydoodadum]

Played sea of Thieves, made my character look like an old triton druid of mine <3🥰

[boltlightning]

it’s fun that all the characters in potc that would be predisposed to being skeptical of the supernatural instead never comment on it and, in fact, are some of the quickest to accept it as fact

[catsconflictscopicsandchamomile]

absolutely random in-character post re: a WIP I daydream abt constantly but afaik have never actually talked abt

WAS I JOKING

WAS I FUCKING EVEN THE SLIGHTEST BIT AROUND

WHEN I SAID

TO GET YOUR SHIT

OFF THE COASTS.

THE COASTS ARE NOT SAFE. THE OCEAN IS NOT SAFE. YALL DID *NOT* LISTEN AND NOW LOOK.

WHAT PART OF "FOMOIRE" DO YOU PEOPLE NOT UNDERSTAND

HAVE YOU LEARNED YOUR LESSON NOW

STAY OUT!!!! OF THE SEA!!!!!

[bloglikeanangel]

i have an equal appreciation for D&D PCs that have deep, well developed backstory that could fill a chapter of a book or more, as well as D&D PCs who are Just A Guy Who Likes To Fight With Swords And Get Drunk

[lasnevadaslaborunion]

It frightens and discourages me how pervasive "tribal" stereotypes and imagery are in the fantasy and adventure genres.

It's all over the place in classic literature. Crack open a Jules Verne novel and you're likely to find caricatures of brown people and cultures, even when the characters are sympathetic to the plight of the colonized peoples - incidentally, this is the biggest reason I can't recommend 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea to everyone, despite Captain Nemo being one of my favorite fictional characters of all time.

You can't escape it in modern cinema, either. You'll see white heroes venturing bravely into jungles and tombs to steal from natives who don't know how to use their resources "properly." You'll see them strung up in traps, riddled with sleeping darts, forced to flee and fight their way out. Hell, Pirates of the Caribbean, a remarkably inclusive franchise in many other ways, had an extended sequence of the white heroes escaping from a cannibal civilization in the second film.

And when fantasy RPGs want a humanoid enemy, the "bloodthirsty natives" are the first stock trope they jump to. World of Warcraft is one of the most egregious examples, with the trolls - blatant racist caricatures with faux-voodoo beliefs, cannibalistic diets, Jamaican accents, and a history of being killed in droves by (white) elves and humans - being raided and slaughtered in nearly every expansion.

It doesn't matter how vibrant and distinctive the real-world indigenous, Polynesian, Caribbean, and African cultures are. It doesn't matter how much potential these real civilizations offer for complex and sympathetic characterization. Anything that doesn't make sense to the white western mind is shoved under the same "savage" umbrella. They're different. They're strange. They're scary. They have to be escaped, subjugated, eliminated, ogled at from the safety of a museum.

Modern writers, directors, and developers don't even seem to realize how horrifying it is to present the indigenous inhabitants of a place as "obstacles" for non-native protagonists to overcome. "It's not racist," they say, "because these people aren't really people, you see." And if you dare to point out anything that hurts or offends you as a descendant of the bastardized culture, you're accused of being the real racist: "These aren't humans! They're monsters! Are you saying that these real societies are just like those disgusting monsters?"

No, they're not monsters. But you chose to design them as monsters, just as invaders have done for hundreds of years. Why would you do that? Why can you recognize any other caricature as evil and cruel, but not this?

This is how deep colonialism runs.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [10] - Storm

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: A sudden storm can be overwhelming.

Word Count: 3670

CW: Explicit language, blood, injuries, adult themes MDNI

Series Masterlist

Getting too caught up in a relationship hadn’t been an issue since you’d had Theo, but before him, there was a reason why all your friends accused you of being a romantic. When you fell in love, you didn’t even think about the possibility of a break up but—

You really should have.

“Logan?”

Logan looked down at you, running his fingertips over your spine while you played with the dog tags around his neck.

“Yeah?”

“I have a question but you need to promise me you’ll be honest.”

A rumble of a chuckle vibrated in his chest, making you bite back a smile as you looked up at him, resting your chin on his chest.

“The last time you made me promise that, you ended up asking me what animal I thought I could beat in a fight.”

“That was for science.”

“How?”

“In case one day we decide to go on a safari and end up getting stranded in there.”

“That’s a possibility?”

“You can’t be too careful,” you said. “I’m used to thinking about every scenario—anyway, this is another question.”

“I’m listening.”

“So you have the super strength and all that…”

“Yeah.”

“What supernatural creature do you think you could take down in a fight?”

Logan blinked a couple of times. “That’s the question you want me to answer honestly?”

“Could you take down a werewolf?”

“We’re actually talking about this,” Logan muttered to himself. “Okay.”

“A werewolf,” you insisted. “Could you take down a werewolf?”

 He took a deep breath, then shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t think it’d be that difficult to take down a werewolf,” he stated and you hummed.

“A little cocky, but I’ll let it slide,” you said, laying your head on his chest again. “A vampire.”

“Please, vampires are lame,” he said with a grimace. “I could definitely take down a vampire, are you kidding?”

“You sound so sure of yourself that I’m half-tempted to ask if you’ve ever taken down a vampire.”

He let out a chuckle. “I’m not going to be beaten by a creature that can’t survive in the sunlight even if it’s hypothetical.”

“They are pretty powerful.”

“To repeat, they burn in sunlight. Doesn’t sound powerful to me.”

You clicked your tongue.

“How about a zombie?” you asked. “Could you take down a zombie?”

“Those things fall apart anyway, shouldn’t be difficult.”

“What if it’s a herd?”

“Same logic.”

“You’re telling me you could take down one hundred zombies?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

You hid your yawn behind your hand. “Um, mermaids.”

“Mermaids aren’t even scary.”

“No, not that type of—like those in Pirates of the Caribbean, have you watched that?”

“No.”

“I’ll put that on the list. It’s like—it’s like sirens, they lure you to the sea and then drown you.”

He paused for a moment, then hummed.

“Yeah, I think a mermaid could take me down.”  

“Really?”

“I’m not good with water.”

“Can you swim?”

“I can swim but if I try to stay still in the water I sink,” he said slowly. “Because of the skeleton. And like I said, I’m not good with water.”

Something in his voice sounded distant so you decided not to push him. You were way too sleepy for a big conversation anyway, and you didn’t want to force him to talk about anything he didn’t want to talk about. Heaving a sigh, you nuzzled closer to him and he dipped his head to press a kiss on top of your head.

“How about you?” he asked. “What supernatural creature could you take down in a fight?”

“Do you know any creatures you can disarm with the power of speech?” you asked, making him let out a laugh.

“Not really.”

“I mean I think I’d have a better chance surviving a vampire than a werewolf,” you murmured, your voice already drowsy. “Werewolves have fewer weaknesses I think, and yes vampires can hunt you down but only in night time. Well, werewolves can only hunt you down during the full moon, there’s that but I feel like as far as supernatural creatures go…”

You didn’t even realize you were falling asleep.

Until a soaring pain pulled you out of it.

A scream left your lips as your eyes snapped open, your hand shooting to your other arm to grab at it. You sat up straighter in the bed, now realizing Logan was also awake and upright in bed, breathing hard and unsheathing his claws. Your name spilled from his lips in a whisper as you looked down at your arm, the blood pouring from the open wound, coating your hand and the sheets in red.

“I’m fine—” you managed to say breathlessly while Logan stared at you, complete terror in his eyes. “I’m fine it’s just…um—”

“Let me see,” he said in a low voice and you tried to blink back the tears with a grimace. Logan carefully lifted your arm, letting you see the three gashes through all the blood under the dim light of the moon coming from the window.

Shit.

“You need stitches,” Logan muttered as he grabbed his jeans to put them on. “We’re going to the hospital.”

“Stitches?” you repeated, looking down at your arm. “Are you sure?”

“Those are deep cuts,” his voice sounded a little distant again and you couldn’t tell it was because of the blood loss you were currently suffering from. He bunched up his white shirt to press it against the wound, making you hiss in a breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he swallowed thickly. “I’m so sorry.”

“What—no, it’s fine!” you said in a haste, trying to focus through the fire burning your arm. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is.”

“Logan—” you started but he went to grab your sweater off the chair at the corner of the room, then made his way back to you. He helped you get into it, then into your jeans while you held onto his shoulder trying to move your arm as little as possible.

“I can carry you—”

“Logan, it’s just my arm,” you assured him with a huff of a laughter. “I can walk. It’s totally fine.”

A shadow crossed his eyes, his jaw clenching tight.

“Right,” he muttered through his teeth. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

                                               *

You really, really hated hospitals. As a child, you were quite the troublemaker so you’d had your fair share of hospital visits, and each and every time was quite painful. Even now, as a grown up, you couldn’t help but feel tense whenever you had to go to hospitals.

And Theo’s very scary birth hadn’t helped the situation.

But if anything, this really wasn’t a big deal. A couple of stitches and you would be fine, but Logan looked much more tense than you were. He was completely quiet and withdrawn, standing in the corner of the hospital room like a guard dog while the doctor worked on your arm.

“So how did you get this, exactly?” she asked and you tried to smile at her.

“Oh, uh…I work in a diner,” you said. “And as it turns out, night shift and sharp objects aren’t a good combo.”

“I’d bet,” she said as she pulled back to look at the stitches, then took off her latex gloves. “Well the good news is, it’s a very clean cut so it’ll be much easier to heal. Keep it dry the first day, and after tomorrow you can wash around it with clean water twice a day.”

“Okay.”

“Take the antibiotics, apply the cream I prescribed and…well, be careful around knives?” she said with an assuring smile and you let out a small laugh.

“Noted. Thank you so much, doctor.”

“Have a nice night,” she said and walked past the cubicle curtain. You let out a breath, feeling around the gauze before lifting your head to smile at Logan.

“Hey,” you said. “You okay?”

For some reason, Logan couldn’t hold your gaze like he usually would, so instead he stole a look at you before fixing his gaze on the floor and nodded.

“Sure.”

“You don’t like hospitals either huh?” you asked, “I mean if I hate the smell, I can’t imagine how you feel with those enhanced senses of yours.”

Logan didn’t answer, instead he rushed to help you when you grabbed your coat so that you could put it on.

“Thanks,” you said and he pulled his hands back as if he could burn you if he kept them on you a second longer than he needed to. You pulled your brows together, but didn’t comment on it as you started walking beside him to get out of the building.

You didn’t really do well with quiet so the music coming from the radio and your nonsense chatter were the only things filling the silence in the car. Logan met your questions with occasional grunts to signal that he was listening and at best you got curt, one-word answers.

It was only when you walked into your apartment and Logan followed you like a quiet guardian that you turned to him, putting your hand on your hip.

“Logan.”

He closed the door behind him. “Hm?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I can talk until the sunrise but this is becoming a one-way street,” you told him. “Are you okay?”

He blinked a couple of times as if he couldn’t believe you were asking him that.

“Are you?” he asked back after a beat and you shrugged your shoulder.

“It’s not the first time I’m getting stitches,” you said. “And to be completely honest with you, after childbirth everything else they do to you in a hospital kind of pales in comparison. I’m fine.”

He snorted, then clicked her tongue. “Sure.”

“No seriously, it’s just stitches,” you said, walking to the kitchen to fill yourself a glass of water. “And you heard what the doctor said, it’ll heal pretty easily.”

You popped the painkillers in your mouth, then downed them with water before putting the glass back on the counter, then walked back to the hallway.

“If I go to sleep right now, I think I can survive on three cups of coffee instead of four tomorrow,” you joked with a grin, but he couldn’t even smile back, he just followed you to the bedroom. After helping you get into a comfortable oversized shirt, he took a step back as you sat down on the bed. You frowned, tilting your head.

“Are you coming?” you asked, motioning at the bed and Logan shook his head.

“No,” he said, his voice deep. Your frown deepened.

“What?”

“I should uh—” he motioned at the living room. “I’ll sleep on the couch. I’d still hear if you needed anything at night and it’d be safer.”

“Safer?” you repeated. “Logan, come on.”

“I can’t risk another nightmare and you ending up with…” he nodded at your arm and you scoffed a laugh.

“That won’t happen.”

“You don’t know that.”

Alright, this was strange.

Logan was never this curt with you. He wasn’t the most open person in the world, yes, but whenever he spoke to you, his voice would always be warm, melting your insides. Now he sounded way too distant, way too controlled.

You might as well have been speaking to a robot.

“Why are you punishing yourself right now?” you asked, looking him in the eye and something in his gaze shifted before his jaw clenched again, then he shook his head.

“Call my name if you need anything,” he said, walking out of the bedroom and you blinked a couple of times in confusion. A sigh left your lips and you rubbed at your eyes, then slowly lay down on the bed, grimacing when a sudden spark of pain shot through your arm. You put your pillow under your arm, then grabbed Logan’s pillow to bury your face into it, the pleasant smell of his cologne soothing your senses before sleep creeped up on you, pulling you into its warmth.

                                                 *

 When you woke up, you were still groggy and your arm was throbbing. A grimace twisted your face and you took a deep breath, then pulled yourself up to sit up in the bed, and looked down at your arm, feeling around the gauze. It wasn’t extremely painful, but it still made sure to let you know it was there so you had a feeling you were going to have to be extra careful carrying plates at the diner, at least for a while. The delicious smell coming from the kitchen made you turn your head and you nibbled on your lip, then slowly pushed the covers off of you and got up from the bed to make your way to the kitchen.

“Hi stranger,” you said with a grin and Logan looked over his shoulder, then put the grilled cheese sandwich right next to scrambled eggs on the plate.

“Morning.”

“If breakfast is your way of apologizing for not sleeping next to me last night,” you said as he poured you coffee, then placed the cup on the small table next to the plate. “It’s the right path.”

A forced smile twitched the corners of his lips upwards before you sat down, then grabbed the sandwich to take a huge bite.

“Aren’t you eating?” you asked and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Not really hungry.”

You blinked a couple of times; that was new.

“Logan,” you said, clearing your throat before putting the sandwich down. “I think we should talk about what happened.”

“I agree, but after breakfast.”

You pulled your brows together in confusion, then shrugged with one shoulder before grabbing your coffee cup to take a big sip. Logan’s gaze didn’t leave you as if he was trying to take in the sight of you as much as he could, as if he was trying to burn this- you, this moment- into his mind. The look in his eyes wasn’t distant anymore but worse; it was just haunted. You could feel your stomach doing an unpleasant flip before you tried to shake off the chill running down your spine, then chewed your bite and cleared your throat.

“What time did you wake up?”

Logan shook his head slightly.

“Didn’t sleep.”

“At all?” you asked, gawking at him and he shrugged his shoulder almost nonchalantly.

“It’s fine.”

“Well it’s actually—” you started but were cut off when your phone started ringing in the bedroom.

“One moment,” you said and rushed to the bedroom to grab it off the nightstand, then answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hey love,” Stacey’s voice reached you. “Did I wake you up?”

“No no, I was already up,” you said and sat down on the bed. “What’s up?”

“Okay so, the boss is going to kill me, but…”

“Don’t say it.”

“I’ll be late again.”

You let out a small laugh. “Stace.”

“Okay I know what you’re gonna say but this time it’s totally not my fault.”

“No?”

“Well, my body decided to have a hangover after last night, so technically it’s not my fault.”

You hummed. “How much did you drink?”

“Well it was my friend’s birthday and Paul and his friends were at this bar and we decided to go have fun, and then my friend hooked up with Paul so I had to drink a lot to stop myself from visualizing what was going on in the bathroom.”

“I can imagine,” you said. “It’s fine. I’ll cover for you, no worries.”

“Ugh, you’re an angel and I love you.”

“Love you too Stace,” you said with a laugh, then hung up the phone and shook your head before making your way back to the kitchen.

“Sorry about that,” you told Logan and sat down. “It’s Stacey, you’ve met her.”

“You’re going to work today?” Logan asked. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Oh yeah, it’s totally fine,” you said. “I barely feel it to be honest, and I’ll be careful.”

“But…”

“Besides, I need to cover for Stace,” you said. “Apparently her friend hooked up with Paul—you remember our line cook Paul? He’s kind of a womanizer, I’m kind of surprised she and Paul never had a thing—they sure do flirt a lot but anyway, Stacey’s friend and he hooked up last night and knowing Stacey, she probably drank everyone under the table, and now she has a hangover. Shocking, isn’t it?”

Logan nodded slowly without pulling his gaze off of you.

“Did I tell you about how when Stacey and I first met, I ended up getting black out drunk?” you asked, biting into the grilled cheese sandwich. “It was my first day at the diner, and she convinced me to have a night out with her, and I swear to you, that girl is a goddamn sponge when it comes to alcohol. I was out a couple cocktails in, and she still had numerous shots and cocktails after. Julie was taking care of Theo that night, so I ended up sneaking into my own apartment so that he wouldn’t wake up, and rambled to Julie for like two hours straight about kittens, and then fell asleep watching cat videos.”

A small, sad smile curled Logan’s lips and you smiled back at him, then took another sip of your coffee and put your empty plate into the sink.

“Compliments to the chef,” you said with a grin despite the strange tension almost palpable in the kitchen. “If you ever get tired of going on missions and stuff, you could go into culinary world I feel like.”

He scoffed a laugh and you took a deep breath, then cleared your throat.

“So,” you said. “Can we talk?”

Logan swallowed thickly and nodded his head, his jaw clenching.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t blame you for what happened, at all,” you said. “It was an accident. You…you had a nightmare right?”

Logan paused for a moment, then shook his head. “That’s not an excuse.”

“Logan, that’s an accident,” you insisted. “You really shouldn’t blame yourself. I don’t.”

“You should.”

“Well then sucks to be you because I’m not gonna,” you said. “And unless you want to get separate beds like those weird couples in the 1950s, I don’t see how you’re planning on—”

“I think we should break up.”

That managed to shut you up mid-rant. Your eyes snapped up to his and for a couple of seconds, you could only gawk at him in complete silence, your throat getting tighter.

“…What?” you managed to rasp out, your voice lost somewhere in your throat and Logan crossed his arms, leaning his back to the wall.

“It’s going to be safer for you—”

“What are you even talking about?”

“Do you realize what could’ve happened?” he asked back, his voice tense. “We got lucky, if you can even call last night that.”

“Logan, it’s a goddamn scratch!”

“Yeah, this time!” he insisted. “This time it was only a scratch on your arm, what about the next time? What if it wasn’t your arm?”   

“You cannot be serious,” you said, blinking back the tears as you shook your head. “You can’t.”

“I’m not going to have your blood on my hands,” he said, his eyes locked in yours. “I can’t hurt you. Not…not you. I was so wrapped up in this that I forgot how dangerous I could be for you—”

You let out a breath, running a hand over your face. “Don’t give me that speech again.”

“I’m not talking about some silly heartbreak,” Logan told you through his teeth. “I’m talking about life and death. You might see it as nothing, but we both know that it’s not nothing.”

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to remain calm and sniffled, blinking back the tears again.

“I told you, I’m going to be the one who decides whether this relationship is dangerous or not.”

A dry laugh climbed up his throat.

“Do you have any idea what it would do to me if I…” he couldn’t even finish the sentence as if the mere thought was way too painful. “I can’t put you in danger.”

“You’re not putting me in danger,” you insisted. “You can hear my heartbeat, can’t you? You can smell it when I’m scared, when I’m—when I’m nervous. So tell me; last night, was there even a second that I was scared of you? Or this morning? Have I ever been nervous around you because I thought I was in danger?”

That made him pause for a moment before he shook his head. “No.”

“There you go. There’s your answer to your moral predicament.”

“That makes it even worse,” he rasped out and you frowned.

“How?”

“Because now it falls on me to do it,” he said. “And I can’t even fucking convince myself that you want it.”

You sniffled, shaking your head.

“Don’t do this,” your voice was a low whisper. “Please don’t do this.”

He stared at you, the look in his eyes so painful that for a moment it made you think you were somehow tormenting him with mere words before he clenched his teeth and stepped closer to you so that he could carefully wrap his arm around your waist. He moved slow as if he was terrified that he could somehow hurt you just by touching you and he dipped his head to press a kiss on top of your head as you sniffled, making his grip around your waist tighter for only a moment. You could feel him nuzzle into your hair and stay there completely frozen for a couple of seconds, as if he couldn’t bring himself to pull back.

“I’m sorry,” he managed to say after a beat and pulled back, then walked out of the kitchen. You heard the front door open before it closed, and as if on cue you fell on your knees, burying your face in your hands.

Then the sobs started.

[nemesyaaa]

from the sea // pirate!rafe cameron x mermaid!reader

summary ; he was the too scary captain of the ship, and you were the too gorgeous mermaid of the sea. you were on his way, he was on your territory.

but mostly, you were not allowed to go on the surface alone since your mother's death because of dangerous and killer men like him. so when you unfollowed the rules of your father, you faced the consequences.

genre ; fantasy blurb. siren x captain dynamic.

warnings ; fantasy story ? possession. rafe has whip scars/and one eye. fear enthousiast. slight of violence. reader is a mermaid with tail. light gun play mentions and using. smut. gaslighting. dubcon. no shells on breasts reader. webbed fingers. lust as a sin.

author's note ; it's a 3k words. no songs inspiration for this one. i just wanted to make a fantasy au.

you were that kind of beauty that aspired to make all men go crazy over you, and it was for this reason that you had taken so many pirates adrift, to their bodies to their ships. you were beautiful and indeed the bewitching and seductive creature that legends and tales spoke of, but you were also the dangerous monster that the captains with monstrous scars on their faces and marks on skin who had survived your man-eating canines were whispering about in the back of a tavern to overly curious and drunk sailors.

you were the wife of all the gods but above all, those who defended their oceans. but only since your mother's death, your father firmly forbade you from going to the surface, either alone or accompanied. you were forbidden by the all-powerful sovereign of the seas. and his law was indisputable because he was the king and the monarchy. one day as his daughter, you will also be the head of the kingdom, and hold the power as him, even if you're not interested in it.

but like all girls your age, you had trouble listening to your father. no, you had this innocent and blind thirst to chase men. and, you had never had an incident before, so what could stop you ? you only had to slip into the clear waves, and let your magical and fairy body disappear through the eddies of the water which made your flowing silhouette as fast and shiny as a shooting star. the feeling of diving into the soft waves that play hide and seek with your sparkling and enchanted tail while the water gently embraced your mermaid skin was always the best.

you were the only dazzling thing of the perfect blue. the sweet and salty waves kissing your nakedness and long mermaid tail illuminated with colorful reflections ran alongside the rest of your bared chest in the flapping of a fin. you looked nothing like a fish that fishermen wanted to eat, but you looked like an underwater creature that captains wanted to capture.

one stormy evening, you decided it was time to go to the surface. you needed to break the rules to survive. with all the youth and rebellion of your free will, you had left the abyssal depths to face the dangerous world.

the sea was raging, and the waves were decidedly uncontrollable and violent. the shadow of a boat disturbed by the marshy assault of the storm on the waves wavered from one end to the other. that meant you were going to be able to have fun. you could also hear from here the agitation of the crew, the fear and the tension building. you easily spotted the captain because he was much taller and broader, the one who didn't frown a single eyebrow, and who remained calm as if it was the storm that should be feared. his voice shouted orders that you couldn't hear because of the raging sounds of the hard weather. he had a parrot on his right shoulder, and bangs stuck to the sweat of his forehead lightly sweeping his face. he looked delicious, you licked your bottom lip, flicking your mermaid tail to move.

you barely lifted your head out of the water in a crashing entry, emerging from the water by sending your hair flying back, a splash of water falling noisily into the waves and attracting the attention of the sailors above of the boat.

“ captain, captain, look !! there’s a siren ! ” said a sailor who pointed a finger toward you.

“ she's gorgeous ! ” replied another.

“ those tits…”

“ stop being horny, that creature can kill you. i don't pay all of you to do all the work so everybody on the ship move his fucking ass before i throw you all on that storm. am i clear ? and if i don't hear a yes right now, i will let that siren eat every single piece of yours. . ” warned the captain with a deep and somber tone.

“ captain yes, yes captain. ” echoed all the sailor voices.

“ man, you can't say that when you have a fucking boner while looking at her. ” commented a sailor.

“ shut your mouth, barry. it's not her at all. ”

“ do you think i'm dumb to think it's one of the men on the ship ? come on, you can lie with that mouth but that hard dick in your pants betrays you. don’t worry, nobody is immune to tits, especially when they're wet as a fucking pussy.”

“ mind your business. ”

“ as you want, captain. ”

a smile appeared on your soppy lips, as you disappeared again into the tormented waves. you had surrounded the ship, swimming only around the boat. you loved it when everyone was fascinated by you, catching with their eyes all your flawless moves as a show.

water being your domain and your home, you took the initiative to do some twirls by immersing your entire body in the water to bring out only your tail as you leaped to the surface with some back flips and observing your audience. you stood on an icy rock, resting your webbed and manicured fingers against the stone.

“ someone is gonna fucking do his work here ? ” shouted the captain. he was actually running out of patience because of his crew being so attracted by the siren. “are you all dumb on purpose ? this is exactly what she wants, to get all of your attention, and kill you. ”

“ captain accept there is nothing you can do. that woman is too stunning. ” cutted one man, literally drooling over his huge beard, giving up his activity for you.

“ do you think she cares about you ? you're just a prey for her. but right, this is not my problem. you can leave my ship and die. ”

once comfortable on the rock, , you begin to open your mouth to sing a sweet song that would bring them as well as this storm to their doom. your voice was just a trap to lure men.

you had no shells on your breasts as the tales loved to tell. actually, you were completely naked from the top, water running down your chest to your mermaid glowing tail. your skin was still cold and damp, like your eyes. but it shone through the moon, and the white pearls on your body lit up every inch of your flesh like stars. you were of a beauty that had thrown more than one sailor into the water. you were in the image of no god, no man, no woman, you were the angel of the sea. you had a throne in every wave, a kingdom wherever you swam.

your hair fell deliberately on your shoulders, and your angelic voice currently pierced all the foam. the storm was raging, and you appeared as their savior, a halo of light projecting above you to cover your superb figure. you were beautiful and unrealistic like a work of art.

when you weren't expecting it, one of the men you had guessed to be the captain had lowered a boat. he was certainly tall and imposing, a long coat covering his entire frame, and immense leather boots with roughly tied laces on his feets as he approached you. he had a pistol stuck in his glistening and leathery belt, and above all an eye patch over his face. you took a look at the cross scar hidden in his shirt of which you only saw the scary top of the burned mark of the probably iron.

he rowed up to you, until you felt his scent replacing the salty smell of the sea. you quickly understood that there was nothing like the other men you had managed to charm. not unlike the others, this man seemed to be able to corrupt anyone, men and women, humans and mermaids alike.

he placed his boat near the rock to look at you more closely.

“didn’t your father warn you not to come near men like me? i’m sure he did gorgeous, i bet you’re just not smart enough to listen to him. ”

you backed away but he put his gun on the tip of your tail to stand you still, making you shake. “y’know what that means? I’m in charge here. ”

“let me go!” you responded, waving your tail limply, but he pushed his finger against the trigger of his gun to scare you.

"you'll leave when i decide. so stand still because from now, all your rules are made by me. ”

“you should fear my father, he will kill you.” you replied.

he laughed in a mocking tone, and moved closer to you with a smirk. “you could kill me too though, couldn’t you mermaid ? but look at you, shaking like prey ready to die by my hand.”

“are you going to kill me?”

“ is this a question or a wish ? or maybe a dirty mermaid fantasy ? ”

“i don’t want to die.”

“If that pretty mouth can sing like it does then it can beg too, don’t you think? If you want me to spare you, you’re gonna have to be a bit more convincing.”

he lowered his gaze towards your glossy and watery body, his weapon buried in the flesh of your stomach, before slightly moving up to your breasts, your nipples arching against the gun. you shivered at the contact of the metal against your skin.

he slid the gun up to your throat, pushing the barrel against your vocal cords. you coughed, and placed a hand around his.

he had sworn "oh fuck...legends don't tell all the things siren can do to a man…"

your webbed fingers, surrounded by tiny fins, had found their effect on him. you looked so sweet and innocent, but you were a creature who knew how to be machiavellian so he had to keep an eye on you.

“you don’t want to die?” he asked, repeating your words.

rafe was not a man of morals, he made fun of laws and conventions. and above all, why would he deprive himself when a beautiful mermaid was willing to do whatever he wanted just to be spared.

you were desperate, and frighteningly attractive. rafe would be lying if he said it didn't stimulate him. his cock was clearly hard and painfully stretched against the leather of his pants, forming a bulge just below his belt. and it was starting to be so uncomfortable. he only wanted one thing, it was to fill your soppy mouth surrounded by divine dripping lips until he felt your throat tighten around his dick, because his girth prevented the air from passing into your cavity.

oh yes rafe cameron was cruel. he wanted you to die, but in a completely different way.

and what he wanted, he got. he was a captain admired and respected by all and who had a high reputation both on the seas and on land. he was rich and miserly. he had as much money as he had girls.

he pulled down his pants, freeing his thick length to reveal it before your eyes. you'd be lying if you said you'd seen one before. It was the first time you saw something that big, it was terrifying. you didn't even know what this sailor wanted you to do with it so you looked at him with curious and desperate eyes.

oh that innocence burning in your gaze had shot a charge through rafe's body and his cock had twitched, letting precum drop on your face and the blood inside him completely heated.

"open your mouth...yes, like that. show me your tongue, i'll help you, gonna tell you how to do it.”

he had thrust himself into your mouth before giving you instructions, telling you how to make him feel good, while his dick found a way to your throat. you were even wetter inside than a real woman and it felt perfect and insane. you started to suck him, your lips vibrating around his throbbing girth that stuffed you real quick.his tip was slightly salty from the precum dripping from it that you had swallowed, making the ship captain above you groan.

pushed by his grunts and his tight grip through your hair, you pumped him faster because you were starting to understand how it worked. he never tired of your lips that foamed, and fully encircling his cock which as you licked got bigger and bigger, your naked tummy spiraling as the growing feeling.

with one hand, he had plunged himself completely into you, your head completely trapped between his firm fingers, and your nose buried in his pelvis. you gagged on him, a spurt of drool coming out of your mouth when he pulled out, as you gurgled strongly . your saliva hung from his glistening tip down the length of his hardened dick, all the way to his heavy balls.

he re-positioned himself inside you, his massive dick now dripping inside your soaked mouth as you continued to suck and lick with the fear knotting in your stomach of being killed. but you could feel that his body was relaxed, his muscles were loose, and you could hear every deep sound of pleasure coming from his lips.

he was both fascinated and over the moon, because your wetted tongue twirling around his hot cock was perfect. oh if he could have fucked you, he would have. he couldn't help but fantasize about how he would have fucked you on this rock, his large hands on your tits caged them like bra and pressing them against his thick fingers that would easily crushed them.

he also loved how your throat was so capricious, clenching around him while your tongue hungrily brushed his entire growing bulge. the feeling was intense, and you could hear his breaths become harsh.

that's what he liked about corruption, you were too good for him, a creature blessed by all the gods who had nothing to do with a mortal as rich as him, because you were too divine , too wonderful but at that moment, you were in the same rank. you were at his mercy.

you placed your wet hands on his hips, leaving trails of water on his body and impressive marks of whip that left scars on his skin. rafe could have sworn it was the gentlest touch in the world. the tiny fins around your fingers, tracing the straight line of his waist, down to his firm ass as you sucked him to death, drove him so crazy with your long soaked tongue that made him gasp.

and even if he was not a believer, he was convinced that heaven could not be so wonderful.

a few minutes later, his dick had convulsed around your mouth, and you felt large hot streams filling your throat down to your tummy. you swallowed, and he smiled before stroking your hair gently.

“ good job, little mermaid. don’t you deserve a reward for that ?”

you didn’t really know what that meant but you nodded.

he had taken a long pearl necklace from his pocket. “turn around. let me help you. ”

and you complied. he had hung the expensive and luxurious jewel around your neck, the length of which was so long that he had to make several turns until a hundred white pearls covered the entirety of your bust, dangling around your handsome tits.

“do you know what that means?”

you moved your head to say no, and he responded. “that now you belong to me. you’re my prized possession. you need to understand that now you can't leave. without me. ”

he had found a treasure and he was going to keep it. after all, he was a pirate, he stole everything the ocean had. and sirens were not an exception to the rules.

“i want to see my father.”

“mermaid, you are mine, and mine only.” he responded while caressing your soppy cheek. “ you don't need your dad anymore, just me. ”

you lifted your gaze to meet the most beautiful blue eyes you ever met. he was handsome as the devil, and you couldn’t deny it. but you were a mermaid, you belonged to the ocean, not to a man.

you tried to run away but he stopped you by placing his leather boot on your mermaid tail with a smirk, before leaning forward to grab you by the throat, your upper body was arched, his biceps caged your vocal cords tightly, his thick fingers pushed further in your mouth to forced you to behave, your drool dripping over your hanged jaw.

“what did I tell you about making silly moves, huh? behave, unless you want to die. you know what’ll happen if you act up? what you did earlier, with that pretty mouth, we’re gonna do it again. except this time instead of my cock, it’ll be my gun and if you stop, I shoot. And I know you don’t want that, right?”

" no…”

“ yea ? better to be alive. ”

you nodded. because it was true.

"now i have my men waiting for me. but don't worry, you're coming with me.”

“ that's a kidnapping — ”

“ do you think i care ? because listen to me, i don't fucking care. do you know what it means ? that you can pout, cry, scream, whatever tantrum you want to shout, it will not change anything. ”

you shivered when his hands stroked your shoulders, the icy metal of his silver rings brushing your skin. “ don't you want to be cherished ? see that world ? look up, because it can be yours. ”

“ you're not afraid that i can eat you ? ”

“ didn't you see my scars ? i fear nothing, even if you dig those canines in my skin, you will be the only one to be scared of what i can do to you. because babe, be mean to me, i dare you to, and i will be meaner. ”

“ where are your scars coming from, they're huge. and it's not sirens. ”

“oh, it’s a horrible story for a little mermaid like you. stick to your fairytales. so are you gonna come with me willingly or do we have to do things the hard way?”

“ sound like a trap. ”

“ sound like you're smart. ” he mocked.

“ i'm gonna follow you. but don't be too happy, my dad will find you before sunrise. so you're soon a dead man. ”

“ such a mean baby, already wishing that i'm dead. but careful, don't make me correct that mouth myself. it's not the kind of thing you will like. ”

“ because there is a good thing you can do with my mouth ? ” you were curious.

you turned your gaze toward him, and he lifted a brow, not believing your words. “ mermaid, you never kissed a man ? ”

“ show me what kissing is. ”

“ Why would I kiss the mouth that curses me ? ”

“ Should i ask those men on the ship? ”

because of his possessive side, categorically refusing to share you with his crew full of grotesque men, he had leaned down to grab your jaw and press his lips against yours.the feeling was so strange, but your mermaid tail was waving on the cold stone. “seems like you enjoy being kissed. ” he said, as his tongue swirled with yours. “ want to be kissed endlessly ? yea ? then don't make me repeat myself and move that fucking tail to the ship. ”

[starsofang]

CALL OF THE SEA / PART TWELVE

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, heavy topics such as death, blood, and past trauma mentioned masterlist a/n: thank you for all your support while i grow through a difficult time!! i appreciate all of you for being so patient and loving. long chapter for u!! <3

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

Ghost didn’t remember much about his childhood. His mind blocked it out for him. But he did remember the pain and suffering he went through at such a young age.

He didn’t deserve that. Seeing his family, massacred in front of him. The blood mixed with the metallic scent that even now seemed to tinge his nose with a nostalgia that made him sick.

He was only a child, yet that was the day Ghost was born within him.

It was like an awakening. He saw how cruel the world could be through a pure lens and it tainted his vision red. Nothing was ever the same that day, and gradually, Simon was forgotten and Ghost was his new muse.

He could recall the nights he spent alone, digging through waste bins and slumping out on the streets like a dead dog. Stealing bread from shop merchants and having to run, barefooted to avoid getting beaten. Freezing to death on the street corner when winter came around and the pure snow covered the ground in a blanket.

It was scary for a boy his age. Dehumanizing. He didn’t deserve that.

He thought he was lucky when a ship crew came along, parading the streets to offer security. A job, a place to sleep, and meals — it seemed perfect for somebody who had absolutely nothing.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Ghost never saw Simon again after that day. He was lost somewhere at sea, hidden under the roar of waves. Ghost didn’t know where to look for him until soon enough, Simon had disappeared and Ghost replaced him. Graves made sure of that.

A captain, like hell he was. Ghost knew something wasn’t quite right about Graves the moment he met him, yet as a child, he was desperate. Once he was in, it was too late, and the broken pieces of him became completely irreparable.

Graves held a devilish aura about him, one Ghost could practically see radiating around him. Every step he took was one closer to chaos.

No matter the destination, Ghost was held on by a leash with Graves being the handler. The sights Ghost saw, some being from his doing, was something he’d never get back. It was as if reliving that very day where he lost everything.

Living amongst Graves’ crew was worse than living in hell. He would’ve preferred it. To be banished for his sins, to taste the sweet nectar of death, and live his eternity punished. Anything to stray from Graves and his ship.

When he saw the way you looked—the darkness looming over you, the distress in your eyes—he saw himself. And when he saw Graves, he saw the life that was stolen from him.

That red that clouded his lens when he was a child was all he could see. Pure, angry red.

Now, standing in Price’s quarters, that red only grew angrier. This time, for you—for putting you in the same position he’d been stuck in for years.

You didn’t deserve that.

Your mind was a whirlwind of chaos. It was struggling to digest the information given to you. So much at once and you could barely manage to keep yourself together.

Everybody looked sorry for you. Ghost looked enraged. Price was lost. Soap and Gaz were remorseful. It was too much.

You hated that they looked at you like that. You hated when they didn’t look at you like that more. Having them worry, when for the duration of your stay it was like walking on burning rocks, it felt strange.

Their own worry caused yours as well.

“What is that?” you asked. “The mark of death. I— I don’t know what that is. What does that mean?”

You were becoming more frantic. The panic that ensued was growing, and you could tell it bothered Price. He was quick to grasp your shoulders, settling you.

“It’s complicated,” he explained quietly, hushing you. “That man you saw? His name is Phillip Graves. Some call him the Devil of the Seas. He’s a wicked pirate who feeds off of the innocent, their fear. None of us know what he truly is, not even Ghost, but we believe he’s apart of something sinister.”

“What, like he’s sold his soul? Made amends with the Devil? You are talking madness!” you exclaimed, exasperated.

“We are talkin’ truth,” Price corrected. He was as patient as ever, yet still held the firmness of a leader. “He’s that of a reaper. Souls is what he wants. The mark of death is his contract, you may say.”

“But you are not telling me what the mark does,” you cried.

Your head hurt. The world was spinning. You didn’t understand.

“I think it’s quite obvious what the markin’ is, dove,” the Captain said solemnly. “It is only by miracle it hasn’t happened to Ghost yet.”

“So I am to die? Is that it?” You flickered your gaze between each man. Your eyes told a million stories, and each of them were ones of fear and anguish. “I am going to die?”

“No,” Ghost snapped. You looked at him. He seemed as pain as you were, but the anger was taking over logic. “You ain’t dyin’. Not today, not tomorrow. M’not lettin’ it happen.”

“Ghost,” Soap tried, but he was quickly shut down.

“I said no,” he repeated resentfully. “Price, show her the map.”

Price turned to him, stiffening. It seemed he still didn’t quite want to let you know the full truth. Now, you felt it was to protect you rather than leave you out. It was too late for protection.

The Captain silently walked to his desk, pulling open the old drawer with a slam, shaking the table. He pulled out the map you’d seen so long ago, unrolling it and slapping it on the table.

“Come, dove,” he called, and you listened.

The men surrounded the desk with you, staring down at the map. The ink was still the same as it was before—islands crossed out with an X, while one remained circled.

“Suppose it’s time you knew, hm?” he asked, offering the smallest of smiles. You found that you missed his real one. The one he tried to hide when he found a joke of yours humorous.

Your nerves shot up. Your emotions were at an all-time high. You were scared, scared to find out the truth.

“These islands,” he began, tracing his finger along the map to point at the ones with an X, “are all land marked by Graves. Every single one, we went to in search of a medic. The one in the poem, remember?”

The one who heals the ill and poor

shall be the cure to all demise.

You weren’t sure how it linked to you. You’d never met Graves, nor had you met your pirate crew until they took you away. The connection wasn’t there. It didn’t make sense.

“Yes, I remember,” you confirmed quietly. “What does it have to do with me?”

“We searched for a medic from every village, yet when we arrived, they were famished with death, or on the brink of,” he explained. “All of the villages were all succumbin’ to Graves’ mark of death. We think he was attemptin’ to get rid of all villages as much as he could so we wouldn’t be able to find their medics. We don’t know how, but he knows we have the prophecy, and he doesn’t like it.”

“And how do you know the prophecy is related to Graves?” you questioned. “How do you know it relates to me?”

“Ghost got the prophecy a long time ago when he was still on Graves’ ship,” Soap piped in. His hands rested on the table and he leaned over the map, but his eyes bore into yours. “He was searchin’ for answers even then. This is all he got.”

You couldn’t imagine the desperation Ghost must have felt, knowing Graves had him under his despicable spell. Not knowing whether he was going to live or die.

Your heart ached.

“And me?”

The room went silent, as if your words burned a wound in them.

“Your village had the mark, yet nobody had suffered from it,” Gaz said quietly. His eyes were soft when he looked at you with the unmistakable glimmer of pity in them. “We knew you were the one we were lookin’ for.”

“My village was not cursed,” you denied, shaking your head. “There is simply no possibility. We rarely got outsiders unless they were coming to browse the merchants.”

It clicked in your head how quickly it must’ve happened. Graves, visiting your village under the guise of an innocent shopper, gearing his interest towards the various merchants that littered your small streets.

It would’ve been so easy for him. So terribly easy.

Your people died to Price’s crew, but the true evil was the man who gave the pirates reason to ensure a massacre.

“That’s why you did what you did,” you muttered to yourself in disbelief. “You killed them because of him. You killed Mary because of him.”

“The curse would’ve taken over the moment you left,” Gaz explained. “You were the shield protectin’ them without even knowin’. You’re meant to fulfill the prophecy, grantin’ you immunity until we found you.”

All this talk about a prophecy made you want to scream, cry, yell, anything. Why you? Why were you the one chosen, and why did it have to be you?

You wanted your life back. You didn’t want to be apart of this.

Before you knew it, tears welled up in your eyes. They stung, causing you to blink rapidly. You didn’t want to seem weak, but in this moment, you were.

“Dove?” Gaz called out, concerned.

“I don’t want this,” you cried, shaky hands balling into fists. “You—you knew I was apart of this and never told me. You kept me in the dark for this long, you hid me from the truth, and for why?”

“We don’t have all of the information yet, dove, please—” Price began, but you shut him down.

“Bullshit!” you shouted, and he reeled back in surprise. You had been outspoken before, plenty with the Captain especially, but he had never seen you lash out so fiercely. “You took my life away because you assumed I was the one in your ridiculous prophecy on a whim. You took a guess and went with it. I am hardly a proper medic, let alone worthy enough to be that person for you, so why have you chosen me?”

“You must understand, you were the only medic left alive,” Price defended. “We had no choice. We did what we had to do.”

“At my expense,” you argued.

“At all of our expense,” he retorted. “I did not care for your life when we stole it. I did not care for it when you were locked in the brig. I cared for Simon’s.”

You fell silent, whipping your head to look at Ghost. You’d heard Price call him Simon before, by a slip-up, but now he had said it purposely. Ghost simply looked away, arms crossed over his chest.

All that talk before and now, at your aid, he was as quiet as a street mouse.

“Without you, he will die. We do not know when. Graves hasn’t killed him due to the thrill of holdin’ his life in his hands. It’s a toy to him. He can take his life away at any moment, and I would not allow that, even if it meant ruinin’ yours.”

Price’s cheeks were reddened from the frustration and helplessness he was feeling. He was a Captain trying to save his crew’s life, uncaring of yours—in the beginning, at least.

Now, the mere thought of losing both had him kneeling like a pitiful dog to the Devil of the Seas.

“I do not wish to be here,” you murmured, taking a step back. Soap opened his mouth to retort, but you silenced him. “I need to be alone.”

The Captain gave you a sad smile, nodding his head. He was respecting your wishes.

“As you wish,” he agreed, and you made your way out of the suffocating quarters, returning to your shared one with Gaz and Soap.

“Dove,” a voice called out. It was quiet, like it was whispering, yet to you, it sounded loud. You hated its voice.

It was black. Your eyes couldn’t adjust to the light, no matter how much you shifted them to look around.

Your body felt heavy, as if something was weighing on you. Your lungs were tight, and when you opened your mouth for air, nothing came in. You slapped your hands over your throat, clawing at the skin.

Why couldn’t you breathe? You felt like you were drowning. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t take in an ounce of air, and you could feel your lungs beginning to protest.

A cold panic came over you, like an icy wave consuming you in its dangerous waters. You tried to move your legs, but they were stuck. They were too heavy.

All you could do was helplessly paw at your throat, praying to gasp for a breath, praying that the Gods had mercy on you.

“Dove,” it whispered once more. Where had you heard the voice before? You knew it, but your mind was blanking from the lack of oxygen.

“I’ll be seeing you, dove,” it mocked.

Dove. Dove. Dove.

“Dove!”

You shot awake, a sharp gasp invading your lungs. The burning in your chest was harsh, and it was as if you truly hadn’t been breathing.

Coming to, you blinked the groggy confusion away, lifting a hand to wipe at your eyes.

Soap peered down at you, his eyebrows knitted worriedly. His hands were on each side of your shoulders, as if he’d shaken you awake, and when you realized you had been asleep, you only guessed that’s what he was doing.

“I kept callin’ ye but ye weren’t wakin’,” he said wearily. “Are y’alright?”

You glanced around the room, taking it in. Gaz’s bed. The clothes strewn on the floor. The mess on the small desk that you’d never seen occupied.

You were no longer suffocating in darkness. It was a mere dream—no, a nightmare. A terror.

You were safe.

“I don’t know,” you confessed breathily, still catching air.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you recalled the nightmare. You couldn’t remember the voice, not when you were fearing a death that was merely fake, but you knew now.

“Tell me,” Soap urged gently, taking a seat next to you on the bed. You sat up to join him, frowning at the floor. “It’s okay.”

You risked looking up at him, searching his eyes. They were soft whenever they looked at you, and they’d been like that since the beginning. He was always patient, even when you did things that cost him a scolding from Price.

You felt like you could trust him, more than any of them.

“It was that man,” you explained. “Graves. I think he is messing with my head. I dreamt of dying, like… like I was drowning. I couldn’t breathe. The whole time, I could hear his voice, calling me out. Mocking me.”

Soap listened carefully, taking in every one of your words. He cared, that much you could tell, and the situation weighed heavy on him. The worry lines on his face were proof.

Graves was tormenting with your mind, feeding into your fear. He knew you were terrified, and he enjoyed it. The way he mimicked what he told you, whispering it the same as before, it sent chills down your spine and made your blood run cold.

You understood now why Ghost was always a mystery—because he was scared, too. He just hid it better.

“I am scared,” you confessed shakily. “I do not want to die.”

“And ye won’t,” he assured, but you shook your head.

“You do not know that,” you argued. “None of you do. You have not given me a chance at life. I am stuck in this without a choice, and I am the new target. It’s not fair.”

Soap’s expression dropped into one of guilt. His focus shifted away from you, avoiding your eye, before returning back to you.

“It’s not,” he agreed quietly. “We’ve done to ye what Graves did to Ghost. Treatin’ ye like—like burdening scum, like ye don’t matter. I can’t express to ye how sorry I am for everythin’.”

You didn’t want an apology, but you accepted it nonetheless. It was the first anybody had truly apologized for the mess you were thrown into. Maybe it was something you needed without realizing. You felt a sliver of weight lifted.

“I never had a family,” you told him, staring down at your feet that hung over the side of the bed. The shoes Soap surprised you with stared back at you. “The village did not like my values or my lifestyle. It was hard being an outcast there, but it is even harder here.”

“Yer not an outcast.”

Looking back up at him, you found him smiling, a faint sparkle twinkling back at you.

“Not anymore. We thought ye were a little strange in the beginning, though,” he said, the end of his sentence bordering a tease.

You couldn’t stop your own smile from forming. Despite carrying the crushing weight of the world’s worries, as well as growing a headache with every word spoken from each of them ever since your arrival, you found yourself growing more fond over them the longer you lingered.

It’d been a bumpy road, and there were still miles ahead of you, waiting to unravel. But you couldn’t fully convince yourself that there wasn’t a part of you, yearning to belong with them.

“You are all very strange,” you retorted lightly. “I have never met such people as you before.”

“Thank ye.”

“It was not a compliment.”

Soap snorted, shaking his head at the banter. “The Captain is bitin’ tooth and nail in his quarters, thinkin’ he fucked this all up with ye. Never seen him that worried before, but with Graves bein’ around again, I don’t blame him.”

The statement caught you off guard, and you found yourself curious. “He is worried for me?”

Soap eyed you strangely, as if it had been obvious the whole time. “Ach. ‘Course he is. Cap’s got a good heart, even if it doesn’t seem like it.”

“I did not realize he cared for me after everything,” you confessed.

Soap hummed, looking down at his trousers and picking at a loose thread. “We all do.”

You stared at him dumbly, cocking your head in question when he didn’t elaborate. You had become acquainted with them, surely, you lived with them now after all, but you weren’t aware they truly cared.

When Price had told you they’d grown fond of you, you didn’t quite believe it. You assumed it was his way of convincing you to trust him, but it seemed that wasn’t the truth.

The two of you sat in silence, staring anywhere but at each other. The awkwardness grew, and it felt strange to feel that when the relationships had been too uptight even consider having those moments.

You took the time to weigh out your options. The Captain being worried, especially over messing things up with you, had you in a turmoil.

As much as you wanted to deny the path chosen for you unwillingly, you felt an obligation to please them. Yet, not in the way you initially thought.

You didn’t want to let them down.

Maybe you truly were as strange as Soap thought.

“Is he still in there?” you asked Soap. He perked up, nodding his head.

“Aye. He’ll be rottin’ in there before we know it.”

You pursed your lips, facing that inner battle once more before coming to a conclusion. “Would you like to join me, then?”

Soap raised his eyebrows, watching you stand from the bed. You shot him a warm smile, tilting your head at his confusion.

“For?” he asked.

“You all need a medic,” you said, giving a nonchalant shrug. “And I do not wish to die by the hands of a filthy pirate such as Graves. I am in this now, so I suppose I’ll simply have to deal with it, am I correct?”

Soap’s smile slowly grew at your sudden courage, standing up to join you. He reached out for you, and once you became confused, he looped your arm with his, grinning down at you.

“Sure are, dove. I’ll come with ye.”

The Captain looked a mess when you entered his quarters with Soap. Ghost was beside him where Price sat at his desk, the map and prophecy still scattered on the table. The two of them were speaking hushed to one another, yet when the door opened and you stepped in, they went silent.

“She wanted to be alone, Soap,” Price protested, but you quickly shook your head, taking a step closer to the desk.

“It’s alright,” you assured. “I have had time to think.”

Price’s eyebrows raised and he glanced at Gaz for a brief moment before returning to you. “I see,” he hummed, nodding. “I have as well.”

You cocked your head, eyebrows furrowing. He gestured for Ghost and Soap to step out of the room, requesting privacy, and the sudden realization that you would in fact have to speak after your outburst made your nerves to churn.

Ghost gave your shoulder a light squeeze as he walked behind Soap, catching you off guard. When you looked at him, he stared forward, avoiding your gaze.

The door clicked shut as they left, and you stood uncomfortably in place, shifting on the balls of your feet.

“I owe you an apology,” Price began. “A true one. I may be a Captain, and I know in those regards, I come off rather violent. I can be a brute, I will admit, but I am also a man who knows times when he is right and wrong.”

He stood up from his chair, circling around the desk to face you. He leaned against the old wood, crossing his arms and clearing his throat. Upon quick inspection, you saw the faint smoke of his cigar swirling in its ashtray.

“I should not have treated you so unkindly since the beginning. I should have considered how scared you must have been, how alone it must feel,” he continued, eyes drifting off for a moment as if deep in perplexing thought. “I do not apologize for doin’ what I thought was right in that time to save my own, but I do feel sorrow for what transpired in your time bein’ here.”

You couldn’t help but wonder if Ghost had been the reasoning for this. He wasn’t a man of many words, but you knew the respect him and Price had for one another. It was safe to assume he’d speak with him privately regarding everything.

“I’d like to apologize as well,” you began, but Price stood up straight, quick to raise his hands in protest.

“You have nothin’ to apologize for—”

“I am sorry for lashing out the way I did earlier,” you cut off. Price stopped, lips pressing together. His gaze remained stuck on you, now that you had his attention. “It does not excuse what you have done to me, and I see you have realized that. If this is to be my life, I wish for compromise rather than seclusion.”

Price didn’t say anything at first. His eyes darted over your face, taking in your features. He saw the calmness you held compared to when you were last in his quarters.

You didn’t seem defeated, nor did you seem to simply agree for the sake of him and the others. You wanted this for yourself.

“I will grant you that,” he agreed in a hum, nodding once. “I do not wish for you to feel out of place no longer. You have had enough of that, I believe.”

You took in his words, and they made you smile. It was what you wanted to hear—no angry exchanges, no selfish banter. A simple compromise, one you both wanted.

“Graves came to me in a dream,” you told him. His expression soured. “I believe there will be plenty more instances where he will do that. Based off of what you have told me about him, I do not want to prolong his presence longer than I must. So, I’d like to be of help.”

Just as quickly as Price grew tense at the mention of Graves, he calmed down, shoulders relaxing when he realized your implications.

“Soap has not convinced you, yes?” he asked, uncertain. “This is your call. I may have taken you due to my own selfishness, but I give you the choice now. You do not have to be a part of it if you do not want. You are part of us now, but this is not your battle.”

“It is,” you disagreed, though remained a calm composure. For the first time around Price, you felt at ease in the same room. “If I am to be part of your crew, your family, then your battles are my battles. I may not have had a family, but I am certain that’s how it works. Does it not?”

Price stared at you; expression unreadable. It took mere moments for his lips to slowly curl up, granting you one of his rare smiles that seemed to radiate a certain light you’d never seen before. It caused your heart to pick up, though you were unclear as to why.

“That is how it works with us, dove,” he agreed softly. “Your battles are ours. You can count on it.”

“Wonderful,” you cheered with a smile of your own. “Shall we continue what wasn’t finished before, then?”

Price chuckled low under his breath, his amusement growing the longer you stuck around. He nodded, tapping his desk and calling you to it.

“Come on, dove.”

[ryiju-muunie]

i've been asking this a lot and no one do it😞😞

May you write a fic about Pirate sukuna X Mermaid reader??

PEARL

18+ viewer discretion is advised

mermaid!fem!reader/pirate!Ryomen Sukuna Warnings: pirate AU, dub-con, love at first sight, imprinting, sukunas personality is V complex here, soft sukuna, pining, kind of slow burn not really, drinking, masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, slight humiliation kink, ass job, cumshot [back] backshots? mermaid sex sort of, idk man I'm making this up as we go SORRY Word count: 4936 DESC: Ryomen Sukuna never believed in mermaids, until he met you

NOW WHY WOULD NO ONE DO THIS!?!? I had so much fun writing this omg I LOVE THIS

Fair warning: this is kinda shit IM SORRY I have a HEADACHE

Sun blessed Ryomen’s features, kissing against his brow and creating a tan he could never escape from. The waves crashed against his ship and made it rock ever so slowly, back and forth, as he walked across the deck. He wasn’t sure how long he had been at sea, maybe a month or so, but he wasn’t getting any closer to his goal. The wood made a faint clicking sound under his heel as he paced, waiting for something. There was an island his crew had been in search of for months, but it was becoming a distant dream. There was no evidence it truly existed other than a map he had found in the depths of a library. The paper crinkled against his pant pocket, always reminding the captain it was there. There was never a moment where it wasn’t on his person. He didn’t trust anyone but his younger brother, Yuji, and his half-brother Choso. The two made for adequate help on board, but they weren’t serious. They enjoyed drinking into the night and regaling stories of mermaids. Psh, like those existed. Ryomen knew that tall tales existed, but he didn’t believe anyone thought they were still true. 

Mermaids were the stuff of fiction. Although he had seen his fair share of weird shit, he drew the line at mermaids. Sirens too.

Yuji was leaning against the railing of the tip of the boat, staring off into the distance with squinted eyes. A small bandana wrapped around his forehead to stop more sunburns from creasing his skin, and to keep his hair clean from the sky. He was superstitious like that, always fearing too much sun could ruin his naturally pink locks. His brother was somewhat right, Ryomen’s hair was more washed out from sun exposure than Yuji’s. Choso was different, choosing to stay inside and tending to the food. His aura was melancholy and it reflected in how he walked, with a limp. 

The rest of the crew were either downstairs or tending to their duties, keeping a watchful eye on their captain. Sukuna was a scary man when angered, but docile all the rest of the time. Most days he rarely spoke a word, unless it was to his brothers. His voice never raised above a mutter, unless he was angered. If he was upset, the whole ocean could hear him. And if he was intoxicated. But he didn’t drink anymore. Someone had to watch over the boat and make sure looters stayed clear of it. 

Ryomen took this life very seriously, never straying from getting what he set out for. So it puzzled him as to why the island hadn’t appeared. They were in the right direction, they did everything right! So why was it so hard to find this treasure? It could buy him a new life, and his brothers a better life. That’s all he wanted. All the other men would rave about the riches and the women, but he didn’t care for that. Women never caught his eye, he instead cared for his family. Or, surprisingly, the misfortuned. His crew was made up of people who needed a second chance at life, people who wanted to start over. He never judged anyone’s past. He had no right to. He was just a lost soul floating on Earth as well. 

“Ryomen,” Yuji’s voice broke through his thoughts, stopping his footsteps against the sun-washed wood. He raised his head and stared at his brother, waiting for him to continue, “Do you think we should anchor for the night?” 

“Anchor?” One of his eyebrows quirked, “Now why would we do that?” It was rather odd to suggest such a thing. But the more the captain thought about it, the more it made sense. The wind wasn’t very strong today, making the ship keep at an almost standstill for the majority of the day. Anchoring could let everyone get a good night's rest for a longer journey the next day. Although Ryomen didn’t typically sleep at night. Someone had to keep watch, and he wanted his crew to be awake in the morning than at night. He didn’t mind losing out on some daylight hours if it meant keeping up productivity. The only reason he was awake now, was because it was an hour and a half until sunset, when his job began. 

“Well,” his brother tilted his head to the side, pressing his lips together hesitantly. He had a stupid idea, “I was thinking we could have a bit of a party! Raise morale and make everyone a little less … depressed!” 

Ryomen raised his hand and waved it in the air dismissively, “No one’s depressed. I’d know if they were, brat.” 

He frowned, “They so are. Everyones been sluggish for days. Just one night of partying should reset us!” The boy perked up and waved his hands in the air, trying to convince his older brother, “C’mon! Ask Choso, I’m right.” 

“Choso would only agree with you to spite me,” the man grumbled, looking away for a moment. Something caught his eye and made him stop. It was something shiny bobbing in the water, a few yards from the boat. A bright color, flowing across the sea in an almost blob-like fashion. Like… hair. Ryomen didn’t hear Yuji’s further protests, boots squeaking on the deck as he marched over to the side of the boat. He placed two of his rough hands on the railing and peered down, astonished when the blob was gone. It was weird. Just … disappeared into thin air as if it hadn’t been there just seconds before. 

Yuji tapped his brother's shoulder, groaning into his ear, “C’monnnnn Ryommennnnnnnnnnn! Just one party!!” Like an incessant child who wanted a toy at the grocery store, he wasn’t going to stop until he got what he wanted. 

He looked over at the boy with a muddled expression. Eyebrows furrowed together, he found himself searching his memories for an answer. Ryomen had seen unusual things before on the ocean, but never like that. Were his eyes playing tricks with him? Deceiving and pulling him from reality? Or were those tall tales really true? Nonsense, he shook his head, there wasn’t any reason to think that. His eyes were playing tricks on him, that had to be it. The pirate looked over at his brother once again, seeing his pleading expression, and nodded. 

There would be a party. 

Just because you were a mermaid didn’t mean you were a special one. You considered yourself normal, in every sense of the word. A regular mermaid with a regular life, who went to work and came home at the same time every day. Swam the same channels and hung out with her friends on the weekend. You didn’t find yourself longing for more or wishing you were special. You were content. That was until you noticed the shadow. You had heard of humans before and been told the same story. Don’t go up to the surface, they could spot you and kill you. Humans feared the unknown and mermaids were exactly that. You followed and respected the rules, so your curiosity never got the better of you, until you noticed the shadow. 

It was a large shadow cast over your coral reef home, making it almost impossible to see. At first, you thought they were building a new mall overhead or perhaps a new traveling show in town. But as you swam closer to the surface, with the cooler water brushing against your fins, you realized it was human. A ship. You had heard of ships before yet you had never seen one this close to your home. Housing closer to the surface was cheaper for being more dangerous, but you didn’t think you were that close.

The boat was brown, and covered in wood panels. Something came over your brain as you swam closer and closer, taking in the bottom side. One of your hands reached out before you and touched the cold wood, brushing against the edge with your fingertips. It was foreign to you. You had never let yourself explore before. You had never let yourself be curious before. It was an addicting feeling. Your eyes glazed over as your tail propelled you further up until your head was bobbing out of the water. Long hairs, of different colors spread out across you, hiding your form in a cave of strands. You watched with interest at the top of the boat, your eyes catching on one man in particular. 

He was gorgeous. Pink hair, pushed up in a spikey fashion, with the under part shaved and a dark brown color. His cheekbones were high and hollow, signaling he hadn’t had a good meal in months. But his body showed otherwise. The constant running, walking, and standing, meant he was built. Arms, covered in black ink, broke out from his sleeveless shirt and flexed in the sunlight. Ink covered his neck, lightly stopping by his jaw. It dipped into his front, and you just knew there was more. He hadn’t noticed you yet, staring at a boy who looked similar to him. They were talking about something you couldn’t hear, but from reading their lips, you deciphered his name. 

Ryomen. It was an ancient name, something you hadn’t heard before. You wanted to think about it more and admire him from afar, but he turned his head and spotted you. He didn’t see you, but your hair flowed before you in the water. It made your heart drop to see his face contort. It wasn’t hatred, but a look of shock, followed by disbelief. As he walked closer to the edge of the boat, you made your decision and dove back under the water, floating backward to hide yourself in the depths of the waves. 

The night rolled around faster than the pirate captain had anticipated. Stars lit up the sky and illuminated the ship, although most of the light came from the lanterns strung across columns. He didn’t drink but opted to sit on a barrel and watch as his shipmates did. They all danced around and sang as if there wasn’t a care in the world. He would’ve danced with them, or done something lively, but he couldn’t get that image out of his head. He had seen something in the water, something alive. It watched him through a veil of thick-colored hair, that bobbed in the ocean’s water. And it ran away the moment it realized he had seen it.

“Ryomen,” a voice behind the man made him jump. He looked over and saw his half-brother, with a tired look across his features, staring back at him, “You should dance.” 

“I’m tired.” 

“Ryomen,” he said knowingly, “stop worrying and enjoy yourself.” 

“I said I’m-” but he was cut off again by a pointed look from Choso. He was hot-headed, sure, but Choso was another level if angered. Ryomen let out a breath and got up, slipping off his jacket. Yuji had brought his fiddle, playing some tune everyone had heard of. It was simple but drowned out by the voices of their laughter and singing. It was a cheery moment, filled with more screams once their captain got up and bowed dramatically. 

“Captain!” A crewmate, Nobara, chided. She strolled over to him and took his hand, “Dance with me, will ya?” She was about Yuji’s age, which made her almost a younger sister in his eyes. He took her hand and put another on her shoulder. With one movement he picked the younger girl up and set her feet atop her shoes, striding around the deck with a small smile. She giggled and laughed, holding onto him so she wouldn’t fall. It even made him smile wider, which was strange considering he used to never smile until he met his crew. They all … softened him. Showed Ryomen a side of himself he hadn’t known before. 

The captain didn’t notice, in fact, no one noticed they had a guest. From a gap in the railing, a small hole, you watched. You never left. Your curiosity was starting to get you into more dangerous situations, hanging off the edge of the boat all to see a man who didn’t know you existed. You watched him as his face contorted into a smile, echoing laughter radiating from his chest. It calmed you, to see this side of him. Watching him dance and have an amazing time, all without realizing someone was watching. 

They danced for another hour and drank for several. But you never left. You ducked your head when the crewmates got close and peeked up to meet Ryomen’s rugged face. He didn’t notice you, no one else did. They were lost in their own world and you were more thankful than ever. His eyes had softened and his smile was radiating, so you were surprised when everyone had left that it… disappeared. The captain put his coat back on and looked around. He didn’t do much to the bottles lying across the deck, or the garbage, opting to kick it with his shoe. There was a hollow look on his face and you desperately wanted to know why. What changed him from turning so happy and charismatic into… that? You had to admit, it was hot. And you had to admit, you were beginning to feel a way about this man you had never felt about anyone before. A loud heartbeat thumped in your ears and made the world slightly fog over, in a daze. 

You had imprinted on him. 

It’s a bit self-explanatory, but I’ll explain it for a bit. Seeing someone, the someone in mermaids sets off a biological code. They can tell from the moment they meet that person that that’s their lover, their someone, for the rest of their lives. It was complex, seeing as you were two different species. And, seeing as he didn’t even know your existence. You couldn’t get the feeling out of your head that he was meant to be yours, in some universe or lifetime.

You didn’t realize it, from all this info dumping, but being out of the water for so long had dried up your tail, causing you to transform. A bit more lore, if you will. Mermaids, in any body of water, will form a tail around their legs as a protective barrier. Although, out of the water their legs are shown and they can use them, it’s illegal and forbidden to even go above the water and test this theory out. Many mermaids who've tried to live undercover as humans always get outed in some way or another, so after so many terrible disastrous stories, the king outlawed it. You always followed the rules, but you knew it would happen. Looking down, you gasped and stared for a moment before warmth spread across your inner legs. 

Masturbating as a mermaid was always kind of a chore, finding the sensitive spot over your tail and rubbing until you got somewhere took forever. But you always heard stories from your more adventurous friends that masturbation with legs was heavenly. Your eyes glanced from your bare legs back to Ryomen who was seated on another barrel and staring at the open ocean. It was so wrong, to touch yourself in front of someone who had no idea, but you couldn’t help yourself. You grabbed onto the ledge and slid one of your hands in between your legs, spreading apart your foreign folds. It was wet and slippery, but a different kind of wetness. Not from water, but natural lubrication. Your teeth found your bottom lip, biting down to suppress a noise when your fingers brushed over a sensitive spot. Was this the clit? It felt so good, that you started to focus solely on it. Rubbing small circles over your clit and praying you wouldn’t be too loud. 

It felt like you were on fire, watching the captain and imagining what he would do to you. His cock, because human cocks were much better than mermaid cocks, you’ve heard, would feel so good in your wet pussy. You could imagine him stretching you out and fucking into you with such sheer force it would hurt. It would be different from the sex you’ve had before, no more men laying eggs in you. But instead, pumping bucket loads of sperm inside your tight hole. Your fingers slipped into your cunt, three at a time. Small noises escaped from your mouth and before long you began to unravel. You could see it on the horizon, and feel the orgasm building in your stomach. It was so good, it was so hot. You tried your hardest not to moan too loud, but you did. It was a small noise that could have been passed off as a grunt or perhaps a pained noise. But he knew. 

Ryomen’s head snapped in your direction and he saw your face contorted in some kind of pleasure. You pressed your lips together and widened your eyes, thinking of something to do. But in that moment, you were frozen. It was fear, but it was excitement. You had been caught and humiliated, and it felt so hot. Your fingers trailed up from your pussy and to the ledge, glistening in the light. The captain just stared at you for a moment, trying to wrap his head around what exactly to do next. He was face to face with a mermaid of some sort, who he had just heard moan. He stood up and slowly made his way over to you, boots squeaking. 

“You,” he gruffed, kneeling to look you over. You stared up at him with wide eyes. He was gorgeous up close too, something out of a fairytale. You wanted to extend your hand and reach out for him, let him pull you up and into his embrace. 

“Me,” you repeated sheepishly, a hazy blush forming at your temple. Ryomen reached for your hand and took it, looking over your delicate skin. You went to continue, but he pulled you up. You gasped and let go of the ledge, then found yourself being thrown backward into the water. When your frame hit the water, a shriek escaped your lips and was cut short. 

“You!” You gasped, breaking the surface tension and appearing back from the waves, “What the hell was that for?!?” He raised a calculated eyebrow and nodded, standing up. The captain's body shifted from side to side as he debated a response. You could see the wheels turning in his head as he decided if he should even respond to you, or leave you to drown. Of course, you wouldn’t drown, but it was the thought behind it that left a sour taste in your mouth. 

“You’re a siren. Some kind of temptress trying to infiltrate my crew,” he spoke proudly as if he had come to the right conclusion. You stared up at him with a dumbfounded expression. How could he be so far from the truth? You weren’t there to tempt him into diving in and drowning, that was an outdated stereotype. The majority of the mermaids and sirens you knew didn’t want anything to do with humans. Why would he think that? In all honesty, you just wanted to feel his skin again. When he grabbed you, you had a chance to feel his rough calloused hands against yours. He was strong and warm—a warmth you had never experienced before. 

“I wasn’t gonna-” A frown pulled at your lips, swimming forward to the base of the ship. With force and a lot of groaning, you made your way back up to the ledge with arm strength alone. The man watched you without a caring look in his eye. To him you were here to ruin his mission, the quest he had taken so long for. You were … his enemy. You weren’t sure how to make him see you didn’t want any harm, but rather him. In those few hours of just watching Ryomen and seeing him operate, you had begun to fall for him, even imprinting on his being. It was a tale as old as time, a creature falling in love with a human who couldn’t want anything to do with them. You had heard it play out before, but you wanted to try. Something about him felt different, even if his initial reaction was the same.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” the words flowed out of your mouth gently, taking the captain by surprise. You saw it in the way his eyebrow twitched, and the corners of his mouth pulled down into a frown, “I’ve been watching you all today. You intrigue me, Ryomen.” 

“How do you know my name, wench?” He sneered back at you, a cold wall in place of the warm exterior you had seen moments prior with his crew. 

“I heard it. I heard a lot.. I don’t want to hurt you,” you looked down at your hands, then to your tail that flowed in the small breeze, “I don’t want to hurt you or your crew.” 

He was silent for a moment, lips pressed into a line. He stared at you with an expression that was hard to read. Thinking, calculating, and figuring out his next move. Ryomen was truly stunned. He had never expected a siren to be real and approaching him. And he had never expected one to be so … beautiful. The captain had to admit, he was captivated by your beauty from the moment he saw your orgasm face. Yeah, he knew what you were doing. He didn’t want to think about how it turned him on to be watched like that, hear your sweet moans fill the salty air.

Sukuna knew the tale, a beautiful siren would take in a captain and make him jump. He knew it all too well, so he couldn’t trust you, not even if he wanted to. A part of him did want to. He noticed the fact you grew legs, followed by a tail in their place. He could see the appeal of drying you off and fucking a baby into you, then throwing you overboard and leaving. But something was different. There was a genuine tone in your voice and there was a genuine flutter in his heart. He would never admit this, or show you his warmth as he did his crew. You were a stranger who deserved nothing but a cold exterior and a cold heart. 

“Then what do you want?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow. You let a moment pass, silence falling all around you. You didn’t want to say it because the answer would make you completely and utterly vulnerable. But you had to, you had to say something.

“You.” The words rang in Ryomen’s ears for a few moments as he stared at you with incredulous eyes. You wanted him? Even after he threw you into the ocean for dead, you wanted him? You wanted this man when he showed you nothing, not kindness, not hatred, just nothing? He didn’t want to believe he had just accidentally captivated you so much that you’d fall for him, in hours no less. The captain stood and watched you, taking in your form. Your hair was covering bits of your face, and blue scales covering bits of your skin. It didn’t cover your breasts, exposing your perked nipples to the cold wind. It didn’t cover the skin of your stomach, how your rolls were accentuated in the light. 

He couldn’t deny he was a little bit curious, and the curiosity was turning into a perverted lust building in his abdomen. He had a mermaid at his will, a pretty one too, willing to do anything for him. The man could tell, from how you stared at him. So in love. It was cute, it made even his heart flutter just a bit. But it was still Ryomen, as warm as he was to his crew he was still a cold-hearted man. And he was a man. A lonely man, who hadn’t seen someone look at him with such love in his whole life. It was intoxicating, how you devoted yourself without thinking. Imprinting. He had read about it but never seen it in person. Hell, he had never seen a mermaid in person before. It was all new to Ryomen. There were mixtures of love, lust, warmth, coldness, confusion, love- love? He didn’t know you! How could he love you? But… it wasn’t natural. There was a pull, different from his other thoughts. It took over his thoughts and made him forget those perversions. It made him want to kneel and take your hand, pulling you from the water and holding you close. Was this the effect of your imprinting somehow rubbing off of him? Or was it… being shown unbridled love and affection that made Ryomen crumble?

Ryomen didn’t say anything, leaning down and taking your hand. His eyes intimately met with yours, as his hand enveloped yours. You looked down at him and a small gasp escaped your lips when he lifted you, without breaking a sweat. His arm flexed in the dull light, and you collapsed against his chest. Wet, you clung to him and rested your face against his pectorals. 

“You… want me?” You murmured, not bothering to look up at him. 

“I don’t know. I’m drawn, I’ll say that.” his breath was warm against your ear, making the hairs on your neck stand up. He was holding you up, so your tail didn’t drag on the ground. It wasn’t long or big, so it didn’t make a loud commotion as he set you down on the deck, “You.. need to dry off, huh?” 

Your head nodded, thinking that would be that. You didn’t expect him to pick you up again, laying you on your stomach. A moan-like breath escaped from your lips, “Ryomen?” You turned slightly to watch, but something stopped you in your tracks. He was drawn to you, in more ways than one. It was your imprinting, rubbing off on him, making you drunk on his scent. Yes, Sukuna had his own will, but he couldn’t help but be drawn to you. Your eyes, maybe that’s what it was? Those tales of sirens were right, except it wasn’t just lust he was feeling. Maybe he was imprinting as well? If humans ever could. Love at first sight, which caused massive arousal on his part. 

The entire point I’m trying to drill home is, that the captain was (whether he liked it or not) stuck with you, and he did like it. You couldn’t control your desires for him as much as he could. You knew he was the one and that aura surrounding yourself brought him in, making him feel safe. But onto the matter at hand? His erection was out, glistening in the pale light. You bit your bottom lip as you saw it bob from his left hand slowly stroking up his shaft. He didn’t know how mermaids consummated, because your penetration hole was not behind you, so you weren’t entirely sure what he was doing. 

Then you felt it, he pressed his length against your asscheeks, frotting it back and forth to create stimulation. A small whine came falling from your bite-swollen lips, feeling the foreign sensation, “I think… we’re going to have to get to know each other,” Ryomen breathed out between his thrusts in between your asscheeks. 

You said your name lowly, giving a brief description of your life. It was boring, with no parents and no siblings. So you had no qualms about leaving and starting over with this hot sailor. He nodded to your story and asked questions about different aspects. For him rutting into your behind, it was oddly casual. As if the two of you had silently agreed, this was normal, and you were now committed. Then he narrated his tale, growing up an orphan with two younger brothers to take care of. How he wanted a better life for his siblings and by doing this exploration, he’d get that. At points, the two of you forgot he was even humping your ass to begin with. It was so intimate, that detail slipped your mind. 

It didn’t though, when his grip on your hips tightened, sharp nails digging into your scaled skin. He gaped and groaned, throwing his head back. You felt so good, different than the women he had fucked before. You were good and quiet, letting him hump you until he was about to cum. Then Ryomen leaned back and stroked himself to completion, spilling all on your pretty little back. You gasped and shuddered at the cold sperm, dripping onto your lower back. 

“Warning, next time,” you breathed out, looking back at him. 

Ryomen smiled and nodded, “Of course. Are you dry yet?” 

You looked down at your still very mermaid bottom half and glanced back at him, “Do I look dry?” A hearty laugh escaped his mouth and he shook his head as you continued, “Just a few more minutes. Am I officially coming home with you? I mean, I’d like to, if you’re offering.” 

“I don’t think I have a choice. I just came on your…” He trailed off, “I don’t even know why I,” another laugh, “Did that. I think you imprinted- or maybe I imprinted? I just… feel something for you I’ve never felt for anyone else before.” 

“You mean it?”

“Mean it.”

[plaguedocboi]

I have absolutely no idea how to actually promote a book because I’ve never tried to sell anything in my life but here’s some reasons you may enjoy Quest for the Sea’s Revenge:

Do you enjoy my scary water posts? Because the horror and divinity of the ocean is a prominent theme in this story

There’s pirates. There’s zombies. There’s pirate zombies.

Lotta queer rep, if that’s something you look for. Basically everyone in this story is queer.

Sea monsters. They’re in there *gestures to the ocean*

Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to (almost) die at sea? There’s a fairly detailed description. Written primarily from personal experience.

Do you enjoy fucked up guys (affectionate) and fucked up guys (derogatory)? We’ve got an abundance of both.

Have I mentioned that the main character is just a little guy? He’s just a little guy and it’s his birthday he’s a little birthday guy (he just stole your wallet).

There’s some romance if you’re into that.

Found family! Both in the sense that the crew becomes family and in the sense that Cas is literally trying to find his dad because he disappeared at sea.

The fog is alive and hungry. Don’t let anyone out of your sight.

[chibinasuu]

Ghost Ship | Straw Hats x Reader

★ requested by @supernatural-hunter1 (see here)

Summary: There’s no need to fear Davy Jones and his ship of ghosts. After all, it’s just a myth… or is it? Tags: sfw, platonic straw hats x reader, GN!reader, no use of y/n

Disclaimer: There are many myths and legends about Davy Jones and the Flying Dutchman, but the one here is my reimagined version, borrowing elements from One Piece’s Flying Dutchman lore (Fishman Island Arc, ch. 606) and some from the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise. 

It was a festive night onboard the Thousand Sunny. 

Earlier, the Captain of the Straw Hat Pirates had begged the cook to prepare a feast tonight, without any reasons whatsoever. The cook was hesitant at first, as he was not one to use excessive ingredients when unnecessary, but with the last of the fresh supplies they got at Water 7 on the brink of losing their quality, Sanji had relented and cooked up an extravagant banquet for the crew. 

Not wanting to waste a beautiful moonlit night, the Straw Hats set up picnic blankets on the Sunny’s lawn deck to enjoy their dinner. Franky had busted out his ukulele, playing a cheery tune that transformed the quiet night into a lively one. A portable metal fire pit sat in the center of the lawn, the flames providing light and warmth as the crew partied the night away. 

It was not uncommon for this particular crew that a night of drinking would evolve into a night of daring each other to do stupid things. Luffy’s face was currently caked with Nami’s makeup, Zoro and Sanji were reluctantly interlocking hands as per Robin’s dare, and Chopper had one of Franky’s (clean) underwear strung between his antlers. The dares were getting more and more ridiculous as the game went on, to the point where Usopp had just challenged you to skinny-dip off the side of the ship. One glance over the railing at the dark, cold, and uninviting waters had you sitting back down on the deck. 

“Yeah, right,” You scoffed and downed a shot in lieu of doing the dare, “That’d get me sent straight to Davy Jones’ locker!”

“Whose what now?” Usopp asked with his head tilted in confusion, the phrase unfamiliar to his ears.

It was such a common saying in the South Blue, where you were from, that you just blurted it out unthinkingly. There were no Southern seafarers who didn’t know about the mythical pirate Davy Jones and his ship full of ghosts. 

“The Davy Jones’ locker.” You repeated matter-of-factly. Surprisingly, none of your crewmates seemed to show even a hint of recognition. You eyed them one by one, but all of them sported similar blank looks, “Oh c’mon, Davy Jones? The Flying Dutchman? Ring a bell?”

“Robin, you must know it.” You turned to the archaeologist, certain that she must have read about the legend before in one of her books, but she merely shook her head.

“No way,” you looked at your crew in disbelief, “And you call yourselves pirates?”

“Hey!” Luffy protested indignantly, “What’s a flying locker got to do with being a pirate?” 

“Huh,” you shrugged, “Guess the story’s only popular in South Blue then.”

“Ooh, a story?” Chopper leaned forward toward you in anticipation, “I wanna hear it!”

“Alright then, listen up.” You looked at your friends with a sly smile, “But beware, this tale is not for the fainthearted.”

You started the story, lowering your voice in a mediocre attempt to sound spooky, “Hundreds and hundreds of years ago, a pirate crew was sailing on troubled waters when its captain – by the name of Davy Jones – suddenly fell ill and lost his mind. He killed his whole crew, chucking them off the ship one by one into the angry sea.”

Robin’s eyes sparkled with intrigue, while Zoro looked unbothered, but was listening intently nonetheless. Luffy was munching on some meat, only half paying attention. Franky had put down his ukulele, and Sanji took a long drag of his cigarette, eyes never straying away from you. Usopp, Nami, and Chopper had started to huddle together, never ones to enjoy scary stories. 

“When he came to, Davy Jones realized what terrible deed he had done and blamed the gods for his madness, throwing curses at the rulers of the seas and the skies.”

The silence that now shrouded the chilly night only added to the tense atmosphere, broken just by the low whistle of the winds against the sails and the faint crash of the waves against the hull. No one dared breathe a word to interrupt as you continued your tale. 

“The gods were furious and punished Davy Jones to roam the seas for eternity aboard his ship, the Flying Dutchman, doomed to ferry the souls of those lost to the sea to the world beyond, far deep through the oceanic abyss, which sailors came to know as the Davy Jones’ locker.”

Unbeknownst to the crew, a shroud of unnatural mist has started to surround the ship. Its tendrils snaked through the gaps and crevices, slowly infiltrating the deck.

“They say the Flying Dutchman still roams the seas to this day, never able to make port.” You paused for dramatic effect, “People say, that if you’re unlucky enough to encounter it, you could hear the lost souls onboard the ghost ship sing; Dead men tell no tales, dead men have no desires. Dead men don’t need jewels on their–”

“ENOUGH!!” Usopp yelled, covering his ears, “That’s enough, I don’t want to hear it anymore!”

By this point, the fog had gotten so thick that it was impossible not to notice. The crew was suddenly overcome with a sense of dread, goosebumps creeping on their skin.

“Wh-what is this mist?!” Nami shrieked, “What’s happening?! I don’t like this!”

Zoro and Sanji stood up, whipping their heads around in search of enemies or threats, but nothing emerged from within the murk. Nami and Usopp were now clinging to each other, screaming their heads off when suddenly, Chopper pointed at something in the distance and squealed, “Wh-wh-what’s that?!”

A silhouette of an old, rickety vessel materialized from beyond the mist, sailing head-on toward the Thousand Sunny. Its tattered sails swayed in the winds, a faded glow cloaking its body. 

Screams of panic filled the air as Usopp, Nami, and Chopper ran around in terror.

“That’s it, I’m going inside! You guys deal with that!” Nami exclaimed, rushing towards the safety of the sleeping quarters.

“Oi, Nami, wait for me!” Usopp ran after her, Chopper closely following behind, “Can I sleep in the girls’ room tonight?!”

“Nah, man.” Zoro shook his head, “Give me monsters or devils, and I’ll fight them. But, I don’t fuck with things I can’t cut with my swords.” He said before hightailing it to the boys’ quarters.

Sanji stammered that he was “definitely not scared of ghosts, unlike the cowardly mosshead” but claimed that he wanted to make some midnight snacks and speed-walked to the kitchen. The mere mention of a midnight snack had Luffy following Sanji like a puppy, all thoughts of ghosts or whatever vanishing from his mind, and so he too, was gone. 

With most of the Straw Hats cowering inside, the deck was once again plunged into a thick silence as the mysterious ship crept closer and closer.

A sudden slow clap permeated the stillness.

You looked behind you to see Robin smiling knowingly, “Incredible.” She chuckled, addressing you and the only other remaining Straw Hat on deck, “How did you two do it?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Robin.” You deflected unconvincingly, trying to hold back a smile.

“Yeah, Robin, what do you mean?” Franky added with a cheeky grin, “That’s totally a real ghost ship comin’ right at us.” 

“Alright, keep your secrets.” Robin said with a laugh, “I’m going to bed. Make sure you clean up nicely, hm?”

Once Robin was out of sight, Franky offered his big metal hand to you, and you slapped it in an enthusiastic high-five. The two of you broke out in laughter, ecstatic at the success – for the most part – of your harmless but elaborate prank. 

“Ah, that was a good one.” He sighed, wiping a stray tear from his eye, “Did you see their faces?” 

You grinned at him, “I thought we fooled everyone, but Robin’s a tough one, isn’t she?”

“She’s super smart,” Franky laughed, “I knew from the beginning that she wouldn’t buy it.”

He took out a remote from his shirt pocket and pushed the big red button on it. Instantly, the mirage of the ghost ship disappeared as the light projector hidden inside the lion figurehead’s mouth was deactivated. The smoke machines mounted through the side portholes also died down, and the thick fog surrounding the ship gradually dissipated. 

Since no one was around anymore, you and Franky took up the job of cleaning up the lawn, considering it as a way to make up for the fright you gave the rest of the crew. You stacked the dirty plates, gathered all the empty booze bottles, and folded up the blankets. The big, yellow moon provided ample brightness even as Franky killed the fire. 

“Franky,” You called out as you noticed something in the horizon, “I thought you shut off the machine.”

“Yeah, I did.” The cyborg replied without even looking at you, still focused on cleaning the fire pit. 

A chill of uneasiness ran through you at his answer, “Then… what’s that?”

Franky looked up at your shaky voice and turned to the front of the ship, eyes bulging in shock at what met his sight. 

A curtain of thick, black fog coated the ocean and sky ahead, swallowing the stars from the sky and plunging the waters into total darkness, where no moonlight reached it.

And the Sunny was sailing right at it. 

You and Franky could only stare at the unfathomable phenomenon as you stood frozen side-by-side.

“Oh, we are super fucked, aren’t we?”

a/n: bonus points if you got what the thick fog at the end was supposed to be! anyway, i had so much fun writing this!! it might be a bit early for a halloween post but i hope you all enjoyed this silly little fic nonetheless 🧡