#sail without cannons

[biosblades]

"genre-savvy" no i want a genre-unsavvy protagonist. scratch that, i want a genre-deluded protagonist.

i want a protagonist who is convinced until the last possible moment that they're in a lighthearted romcom--despite the proliferation of slasher murders. give me a soccer dad who is just so determined to enjoy family vacation, despite the fact the kids summoned an eldritch deity from the lake. a preteen who is experiencing a coming-of-age saga and annoyed their parents aren't emotionally present (the parents are distracted by a literal zombie apocalypse). endless possibilities

[innerfare]

Ace Relationship Headcanons - Part 2

Summary: A collection of headcanons about being in a relationship with Fire Fist Ace

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

———

Ace almost started a fight with someone the first time you guys met, and you said, “easy there, tiger.” You’ve been calling him that ever since, and he puffs up his chest when he hears that word, even if it’s in a different context. What he never told you was that the strongest of all beasts on the island he grew up on was a tiger. Thus, you calling him that made him feel like the king of the jungle. 

Speaking of tigers, he has a tiger pelt in his bedroom from a beast he hunted a while back and his chest swells with pride when you compliment it. He also has a collection of animal teeth that he tells you all about, several of them ultimately leading into stories of Luffy and Sabo and his time growing up in the East Blue. 

Is insanely touch starved. In the early stages of your relationship, he offers to teach you things as a way not only to spend time with you but also to initiate skin to skin. He’ll show you how how to throw a spear, how to tie certain knots, even how to sail the Striker, and the entire time, he has his arms around you, his hands guiding yours, his bare chest flush against your back. 

Once your relationship is established and he’s more comfortable initiating skin to skin without an excuse, he basically never stops. 

He loves picking you up and carrying you around. He’ll sweep you off your feet, pull you onto his back, and even bend down to get you on his shoulders (his absolute favorite). So many piggyback rides it's unreal, any excuse to pick you up.

Ace actually has a habit of approaching vulnerable topics while he has you on his back because the close skin to skin contact without the pressure of eye contact makes him feel comfortable enough to do so. Other times, he'll come up behind you and bury his face in your shoulder and mutter whatever it is that's bothering him.

Enjoys roughhousing, though he holds back to an almost comical degree because he lives in constant fear of hurting you. Roughhousing is mostly just you straddling his lap while your fingers are intertwined and you wrestle with your arms a little bit. 

Compares hand sizes all the time. 

Has a habit of bending you over things but not escalating beyond that. Every time you're standing at the kitchen counter, he magically needs something in your path and bends you over to reach around you. Any excuse to put his hands on you. 

One of his favorite activities to do with you is climb trees. If you’re sailing together, as soon as you make landfall, you two are off to explore the new island, and you almost always end up tangled in a tree together, swinging from the branches like monkeys. He once confided in you he wishes he could go swimming with you, too. Has literally had dreams about the two of you floating on your backs together like otters.  

Wants you sitting in his lap all the time. Wants you swinging in his hammock with him all the time. Wants you wearing the shirts he no longer has any need for, drinking out of his cup, eating the meat he caught and roasted for dinner himself, relying on his log pose for directions- all. the. time. Needs to feel needed. 

Gets offended if you light a candle using a match instead of asking him. Has even pouted because you lit a cannon fuse in the heat of battle without his help. “Ace, you were five ships over and a little busy.” “That’s no excuse.” 

Knows he can get away with things by flashing a cute smile at you. Often tries to use said smile to get out of trouble and serious conversations. 

Not good at apologizing and usually doesn’t initiate the making up process after a fight. It’s not actually that he’s too stubborn to apologize, he just gets triggered when the two of you fight; his fear of you leaving him has him in a vice grip and he puts his walls back up to prepare himself for what he fears is the inevitable. When you initiate the making up process, he’s always shocked, but he doesn’t resist, not even for a second. 

Claims he’s always the big spoon, and he often is, but he also will climb into your arms late at night and fall fast asleep with you cradling him like a baby. Will fiercely deny this ever happens though. He has a reputation to maintain. 

Hates taking baths, but loves taking them with you. His favorite is when you wash his hair. His second favorite is to sit in a large tub back to back with you. His third favorite is when you wash his back, which eventually turns into you washing his chest and abdomen. If he were to make a list of his favorite things to do with you, most of them would be in the bath. 

Falls asleep if you play with his hair. It’s like pressing a button. It’s gotten to the point that he whines if you don’t play with his hair when he’s trying to sleep. 

More than you playing with his hair, he loves playing with yours. He especially loves it when he braids it and you wear it that way for the rest of the day; he’s actually really good at braiding it. Once, he accidentally singed it because Marco startled him. You thought it was funny but Ace didn’t. He apologized profusely and still swears he won’t do it every time he sits down to play with your locks.  

Food is his love language. Sharing your food, buying each other snacks and confections, cooking/preparing meals for each other, peeling each others’ tangerines. His favorite, though, is taking you hunting. He really enjoys teaching you how to track prey and take it down (if you don’t already know). Your way of asking him if he’s okay quickly becomes, “have you eaten?” Beams for the rest of the day if he takes you fishing and you ask him to bait your hook for you. 

Falling in love was rough for him, but he quickly grows accustomed to being in love. Nights without goodnight kisses, mornings without lazy cuddles, candies without you to eat some- he doesn’t do well without you, though he hides it very well. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[choism]

Jester's Game | b.tc

Captain Buggy x Pirate!afab!Reader

Genre: smut, angst, fluff (If you squint)

Summary: Trying to overtake Captain Buggy's ship leaves you asking questions, and surprisingly, getting answers

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: top!buggy, afab!reader, unprotected sex (pls dont), cunnilingus, fingering, creampie, squirting, rough sex, gentle sex (yeah wild), inappropriate use of detached limbs, spit as lube (also a no no), overstimulation, pet names (sweetheart, princess)

A/N: WOOHOO ITS MY FIRST NON KPOP FIC!! I knew I would write for other stuff eventually but I definitely did not expect it to be a recent hyperfixation. Buggy just has me bricked up okay! Anyway I hope y'all enjoy, don't forget to let me know what you thought of the fic in the tags !

It’s a rather unfortunate series of events, really. Sure, you could’ve told your navigator to sail away from the ship with the giant clown crossbones flag. Yeah, it might’ve helped if you had told your crew that they were about to fight some of the toughest pirates in the East Blue. But where’s the fun in that? As their captain, it’s your job to seek the adventure, and well, this was an adventure all right.

It started with you telling your men to approach, cannons firing, your crew hopping their ship, the infamous ship commandeered by none other Buggy The Clown. Yes, the ship your measly crew has decided to board. Listen, it was strategic! Buggy had somehow gotten the map to the grand line back, and your ship just so happened to be within the vicinity of his, so why not seek the opportunity to take it? Well that was your first mistake.

Now, you find yourself here, hands bound behind your back and kneeling with your crew in front of Buggy’s stupid, dumb throne in his stupid, dumb circus tent cabin.

“You all truly are fools for thinking you could take on my band of freaks,” Buggy lazily sprawls over his throne, seemingly unimpressed by your, in his words, ‘lackluster crew’.

“It’s funny actually, how pathetic it was, I mean even Mohji got in a few punches! Ha! Truly a fine show.” The man you assume being the Mohji that Buggy had just poked fun at, slumps his shoulders sadly at his jab. “Now, time to get to the good stuff…” Buggy trails off, standing up and taking a few strides in your direction, his dirty boots stopping directly in front of you. He detaches his hand and uses it to lift your head, pointing your chin up to look him in the eye.

Looking up, you spit and it lands on his cheek, he simply swipes it off with his attached, gloved hand. “So what if you defeated us, it doesn’t make you any better of a pirate, and doesn’t get you any closer to the One Piece.” You tilt your head and smirk. He may have overcome your crew, but he will never overcome your overwhelming ego and pride. It matches his just as equally.

“Ah, that's where you’re wrong, princess,” His grin is just as wide as yours, and briefly you’re confused, what could he mean? “Given your set of thieving skills, probably some of the best in the East Blue, I’ve heard, you’re gonna join my band of freaks, and I’m not giving you a choice sweetheart,” Buggy removes his hand from your chin, and it floats to his arm, re-attaching itself.

“Boys, throw their crew overboard, we have no use for them.” He rolls his eyes and sits back on his throne, “Oh! And go show them to their new quarters, make them feel at home.” Buggy laughs a deep boisterous laugh, one that genuinely sends shivers down your spine.

The pirates lead you into, what is actually, quite a nice room in the lower deck of the cabin, lit by a few candles, and a cot in the corner. Surprisingly, they cut you out of your ropes, and shut the door without locking it. What’s their deal? Don’t they know you can escape at any time if you wanted? Sneak out and steal one of their emergency boats, and sail to the nearest Island? Granted, you aren’t sure where the nearest Island is, you’re a thief, not a navigator.

Instead of worrying about escaping, you roam the small room, admiring your surroundings. The whole ship is clown themed, front he flags to the cabin to everything, but this room is different. Not a single sign of jester-like decorations anywhere. In fact, it’s as if this cabin was decorated specifically for you. Before you can think more of it, the door opens suddenly.

Buggy enters, and closes the door behind him. When he enters you’re sitting on the cot, legs crossed and unamused.

“Not thinking about escaping? Not that you could anyway, we are miles away from the nearest island, and realistically it would take you days to get there on one of our measly boats.” He rolls his eyes, as if annoyed by how small and fragile the boats are, before sitting backwards on the chair at the short desk next to the cot.

“So what do you even need a thief for? Why am I here?” You blurt, already growing impatient from the lack of information being given to you.

“I need you for many reasons, being a thief is only one of them, sweetheart.” Buggy grins and removes his hat, setting it on the desk. “You already have connections at the grand line, and while I know you need my map to get there, I know that you know the people I need to talk to, to gain safe entry without slaughtering half the fucking pirates there.” He leans back and relaxes a bit, observing your facial features.

“And why do you think any of the people I know would want to help you? You’re just some lowly pirate.” You spit at him, angered by his casualness. In what world would you even willingly help him? Who does he think he is?

“Ha…Me? A lowly pirate? This coming from the literal captain of a crew is hilarious! Tell me another joke, please.” He grins knowingly, he knows how to get a rise out of you for sure. You look over his facial expression, smugness overtakes his face and it makes your stomach twist, not with disgust though for some odd reason, with another feeling you don’t quite recognize. 

This whole situation has you feeling all kinds of anxious. How did you just happen to raid the ship of a pirate who just happened to need you for this specific thing, and why is his presence making you feel so…weird? Something isn’t right here, and it can’t be because of your connections to the grand line. No, he’s hiding something. 

“What are you hiding, clown? There’s something you aren’t telling me.”

His face drops, and he gets suddenly very serious, “Listen here, princess,” Buggy gets up from the chair and gets close to you, leaning down, your noses almost touching. “You’re gonna get me to the grand line, I don’t care if I have to torture it out of you, got it? No more questions tonight.” He gets up and suddenly grins very brightly, as if nothing ever happened. “Night night!” Buggy walks out and slams the door, then you hear a locking sound.

Fuck, he locked you in your room. You should’ve expected this, honestly. The way he reacted to your question was so strange. You knew there was something fishy, but you didn’t think whatever it was could’ve prompted that kind of reaction out of him. 

***

The next day you wake up to yelling outside of your cramped room. Yawning, you get up and put your ear to the door,

“I’m sorry Captain Buggy! I didn’t know that was their ship I swear I promise!”

You hear what sounds like a kick to the jaw and a yelp,

“Didn’t know? Didn’t know?! You couldn’t tell by the giant crossbones flag that very obviously bares their symbol? I’m tired of you, someone go throw him off the deck.”

You hear screams and pleads of “No please!” and “I didn’t know I’m sorry captain!” before hearing water splash, then silence, then- oh shit footsteps coming towards your room. You scramble back to your cot and lay down, pretending to sleep. You hear a couple of knocks before hearing a feint “What the fuck am I doing, I go where I want!” Before Buggy barges into the room after unlocking it.

“Get up, I know you heard everything.” He spits gruffly, sitting back in the chair again the same way as yesterday. You sit up abruptly. Last night you couldn’t shake this feeling, of what you felt when Buggy had gotten so serious, and it’s just gotten worse being in his presence. Your abdomen feels hot, your ears feel hot, everything feels hot. It’s like butterflies in your stomach if the butterflies were armed with knives.

“Yes, I did hear, what do you mean by my symbol? I thought bumping into you was a coincidence?” Buggy smiles faintly, and chuckles.

“Yes, it was, I wasn’t informed of what ship we attacked, just that my men captured you all, oh but when I saw you…I knew.” Buggy stands up and motions for you to do the same, getting so close to you, your chests almost touch. He brings his hand to your arm, caressing down the length before gripping your wrist harshly, causing you to wince. “Do you….” he trails off, “Do you really not remember me?” He brings his eyes from your arm to your face, making direct eye contact.

You struggle to find words, what does he mean, remember? Yeah, he gives you a strange feeling everytime you're near him, but you’ve never met this man in your entire life. You think. Honestly you can’t remember anything before the age of seventeen.

“I– no, no I don’t…”

His smile fades, and he lets go of you, “I thought you would remember once you saw me, we were on Gold Roger’s crew together years ago, but you went missing after a particularly tough battle.” He pauses, thinking carefully about what to say next, “You– We– We were close, and I was devastated, I thought you were dead.” He’s being surprisingly vulnerable right now, and it’s kind of scaring you.

“I don’t really remember anything before I turned seventeen, All I know is one day I woke up on an island, a group of pirates took me in, I left, and I’ve been on my own since. The only reason I am where I am today is because I wanted to find who I was, and I figured I could find that out at the grand line.” You feel overwhelmingly sad. Why are you sad? You don’t even know him.

There’s a long silence between the two of you, it’s uncomfortable, tight, and makes you want to leave, until he says, “Let me show you.” He says abruptly, and you think you see a blush across his face.

“Sorry, I mean, please,” Buggy steps into your space again, this time his eyes flit between your lips and your eyes, back to your lips. “I’m sorry we couldn’t find you, I’m sorry you had to go through that, I missed you so much y/n” That was the first time he’s said your name this entire time, but it’s not one you recognize.

“Is that my name?” Your lip quivers, he’s so close now, your lips are inches apart.

“Yes it is, y/n, sweetheart, princess, I’ll call you whatever you want, just let me show you.” The thick air has disappeared and is now replaced with tension. Something deeper, heavier, fills the room. But it’s not a bad thing.

“Let me show you who you were to me.”

You let his face drop to yours, and your lips finally connect.

The kiss is slow, languid. It’s like his lips were meant to connect with yours. Buggy wraps his arms around your waist. Pulling you in closer, and kissing you deeper. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you let him kiss you as deep as he wants. The pace quickens and he slots his leg in between yours, rubbing against your pants and providing much needed friction.

You moan into his touch and he walks the both of you backwards until the back of your knees reach the bed. He lowers you onto it and hovers above you, kissing you again before departing. “Is this okay?” Buggy asks, brushes his hands underneath the bottom of your shirt, slowly lifting it.

“Only if you return the favor.” He chuckles and lowers his head to your neck, sucking and biting gently while riding up your shirt until your chest is exposed. You sit up briefly to take off your shirt and as promised, he does the same. He isn’t overly ripped like most pirates are, but he’s still well toned. His muscles flex as he shifts lower, kissing down your chest, down your stomach and stopping just above the navel.

“When I saw you were the one my men captured, it took my breath away,” He lifts your hips so he can remove your pants and undergarments, “I was scared, anxious, I didn’t know what to do, so I pretended I knew you for your skills, not for your past.” After removing everything, he pushes back, kissing your thighs before sitting up, taking his gloves off with his teeth and throwing them to the side. Man that was hot.

Buggy detaches one of his hands and lets it roam up your torso, reaches your neck and gives it a gentle squeeze. Before leading his fingers over your mouth, asking for entry. You grant it and his index and middle finger slip into your mouth, swirling your saliva around and coating them generously. “When you suspected I knew more, I didn’t know what to do. When you boarded I just knew you by name, not face, there was no way I could’ve expected this.”

He removes his hand from your mouth and moves it down to your center, rubbing through your folds gently and inserting two fingers, scissoring you open and prepping you for what's to come. Buggy uses his still detached hand to remove his own trousers, his cock springing free from its confines. He strokes it slowly, clearly getting off to his detached hand fingering you open.

“Buggy…” You moan, you can’t even reply or form a sentence, the pleasure too good.

“Shhh just relax sweetheart, I’ll take care of you.” He brings his hand away from your now dripping cunt, reattaching it and leaning down. You feel his breathe over your core, he kisses your clit before taking it in his mouth, lapping up your taste and fucking you onto his tongue. You can feel your orgasm approaching quickly as he flits between sucking on your clit and tonguing inside of you, but he pulls away.

“Fuck! Why’d you–”

You’re interrupted by his cock entering you and your legs being lifted by his hands so he can enter as deep as possible. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so full before. His cock fits so nice and feels so good and he hasn’t even moved yet.

“Fuck you’re so tight and wet for me, so fucking good huh? Letting me fuck you like this.” His pupils are so blown out, he watches his own cock pull out and start to thrust into you, it just fuels your arousal further. Buggy starts out slow, just getting you used to his size before he picks up the pace, fucking into you even deeper and faster.

“Shit, gonna cum Buggy please.” He moves your legs to prop onto his shoulders and he grabs onto your waist, pushing down and holding you in place as he fucks into you roughly.

“Gonna cum for me? Go ahead sweetheart. Cum all over my cock.” He moves his hand over your abdomen and presses down, the pressure making you feel dizzy. You feel white hot, the band finally snapping as you come. “Fuck, gonna cum soon too, gonna fill you up so good.”

Buggy relentlessly fucks into your cunt, overstimulating you and causing a pressure to build that’s unfamiliar. “Wait Buggy I, fuck I feel weird it feels good.” Soon, with a loud cry you feel a wetness rush between your legs, causing you to let out a loud string of moans and curses.

“Squirting for me already? God you’re full of surprises. Shit, I’m coming.” A few more snaps of his hips and you feel his hot cum fill you up, as promised. It feels so good. He slows down and pulls out, his load leaking out of you and onto the sheets below. “So good for me.” He whispers, leaning down and kissing you gently. He cleans the both of you up quickly and gets dressed, ready to go back to his quarters for the night.

“Wait Buggy, before you go…” You trail off and he turns around, listening intently. “If you don’t mind, can you tell me more about my- about our, past? I need to know where I came from, what happened.” Buggy smiles gently, walking up and kissing you on the forehead.

“Of course princess, later”

© Choism 2023. do not repost or translate.

[manachiichan]

Sailing against Fate

(Alabasta Saga)

Synopsis: If you want to survive on this world, you have to lean on to the strongest, to your luck, you somehow ended up with the Strawhats.

Pairing: Strawhat Pirates X Isekaid!Fem!Reader

Pre-Timeskip! This takes place during the Alabasta Arc. I planned on making this into a mini series with other scenarios.

|| One Piece Masterlist ||

|| Alabasta Saga Masterlist ||

|| Next Chapter||

It has to be a dream...

One moment ago, you were just studying for your college midterms and the next thing you knew, black spots covered your vision causing you to pass out on your desk. Well maybe passing out was your fault since you stayed up for a whole two days straight with nothing but caffeine to keep you energized.

But how did it comes to this?

"Oi...Are you dead?"

A pair of curious eyes poked your form the moment you started to wake up. A somehow familiar face greets you. Tan skin with a noticable scar on the lower left side of his eye and a straw hat. Unlike him, His crew had a look of suspicion as they surround the two of you.

'No way....'

How come you found yourself staring face to face with the Strawhat pirates?!

"What...?"

You can only gawked in shock. There in flesh were Luffy, Sanji, Nami, Zoro, Usopp, Vivi and Chopper. All staring back at you with a mixed of bewilderment and cautiousness.

"Where....Am I...?"

"Hey....Are you okay?! Stop that! Your hurting yourself!"

You questioned yourself, slightly distraughted.

Sweet Chopper got worried seeing how tightly you started gripping your hair with both of your hands. Because of his natural caring nature as a doctor, he immediately approached and grab your hands to stop you from hurting yourself further.

"Nooo! I can't take my exams now!"

Seeing that Vivi and Karoo are with the crew, you concluded that you were transported during the Alabasta arc. With Chopper already being there, that means that they had already been to Drum Island and are now on their way to stop the war brewing in the sand nation.

The Strawhats were somehow nice enough to let you stay with them for a while, although deep down, you knew it was because of seeing you in your most pathetic state.

Well most likely since you're a woman and Sanji is the type of man that will never deny a damsel in distress.

But ofcourse, you didn't want to end up on any of their bad side, and since they allowed you to stay with them, you decided to atleast try to be useful to help around the ship.

Only to find out that you have zero experience in managing a ship. You can't tie knots nor lift heavy equipments, Chopper had to help you out when the Going Merry's cannon accidentally fell on you.

All you could do was learn by observing others do their tasks, respectively.

Zoro was far more suspicious along with Usopp who was wary of you, so you couldn't ask any of them for any pointers. Nami, tried to teach you how to stir the ship but you somehow managed to get off course, so she had to step in, not after yelling at you ofcourse.

As much as Chopper helped you out whenever you were struggling, he was a bit too afraid to actually talk to you. And you like Sanji, but you hate how he treats you like a delicate and fragile glass to the point that he never let you help out whenever he's nearby.

Luffy and Vivi were the only ones who are normal around you. Luffy being somehow curious with your mannerism and weird habits. You were slightly glad that he was still the Luffy you knew in the show.

"Where did you came from, (Name)?"

He would often ask the most random questions about you. And whenever you answer, you could feel the eyes of the crew lingers your form.

"Some where really far away..."

"But I doubt that I can return back..."

You answered honestly. It had been a few days since you got sent into this world and you still don't understand how you managed to get here. You knew that you don't belong here, and without the Strawhats, you would probably be dead by now.

The Grandline is indeed a terrifying place, so you have to do what you must if you want to survive in this world.

Luckily for you, you read a few isekai mangas along with those popular korean manhwas back in your world. So with your One Piece knowledge, you have a slightly advantage of knowing what will happen next. However, you kept silent of that, as you were still trying to figure out what you were suppose to do.

In the world of pirates, a sane person would ask the crew to drop them off to a nearby island, however you were far from sane.

You are in the One Piece universe, how can you miss all those major event, nor miss the opportunity to meet some of your favorite characters.

There were two options for you, To become a pirate or marine. You did considered trying to join the revolutionary army, but you didn't like people bossing you around as you go on missions.

As much as you want to see the adorable Captain Koby as a marine, you weren't that keen to get beatened up by pirates. What if you meet those famous characters of the series, you'll definitely die.

So your only option is to become a pirate, being already on board the Going Merry. Besides, you doubt Luffy will let you go now that he has taken an interest on you, not that you know what he saw on you anyways.

You stayed up a few nights, trying to recall the future events that might happen soon. You wrote them down on a notebook that Nami gave you, not before giving you an interest of paying her back. She was slightly suprised on how you just smiled and told her that you'll somehow find the berries for it.

And now, your habit of not sleeping came back. It's like your studying your notes for an upcoming quiz again. You wrote down everything you remembered regarding the current arc you were in right now.

But first, you have to earn the crew's trusts. So you made a lot of effort to get to know them.

Their personalities were still the same like how it is on the series. There was also somethings that weren't mentioned yet you were able to notice small details while being around them.

Whenever Luffy goes feral at the sight of meat, he would let out small growls when someone approached him. It became noticeable whenever he's really hungry.

You were never a threat, Zoro saw that. You were just a weird helpless woman who somehow just ended up in their ship. Surely he was cautious around you, but seeing how you trip on your own two feet made him rethink of his assumptions that you were a spy sent by baroque works.

"Please...! Teach me how to fight...!"

At your most desperate tone, you plead Zoro to train you. If you have to survive, then you need to learn how to fight.

"Worry not, Mademoiselle! For I shall be there to protect you from those filthy trolls that dares to lay a even a finger on your delicated skin...!"

Sanji straight up told you with hearts on his eyes as he fawn over you having him as your Prince charming on a white horse. You won't learn anything from him.

"Sorry, (Name). I'm not exactly an adept brawler like Sanji, Luffy or Zoro."

"Fighting is not really my expertise. Just ask the guys about it."

Nami and Usopp aren't really much of a fighter, so they wouldn't be able to help that much. And Luffy is out of the question.

"Fighting? Just throw hard punches like this! Oh wait, you can't stretch..."

As much as you like Luffy, his fighting style is a bit too reckless for your liking and you doubt that he can teach you without getting side tracked.

And you can't just ask Vivi, like Nami, she's more of a dictator rather than a fighter. Surely she can fight, but you doubt using whip like weapons is fit for you.

So Zoro was your last hope. Watching anime for as long as you can remember, swords is something you were familiar of and You always wanted to learn how to use a sword, and Zoro being a skilled swordsman could maybe teach you a thing or two to atleast defend yourself.

"If you're asking for my help, you must have a good reason. But why should I help you..?"

Zoro was still wary of you, yet you can see that he was less hostile than he was when you first ended up at Going Merry's deck.

"Unlike any of you guys here, I'm the most vulnerable...! I'll die the moment the Navy or another pirate ship appears!"

Okay, you could have sworn that you sounded and look like another Usopp in his eyes.

"If you're serious about learning to fight, you'll have to prove your dedication. Show me you're worth the effort, and maybe, just maybe, I'll consider teaching you a thing or two."

Zoro was dead serious. But it also look like he's willing to teach you how to weild a sword if your resolve was strong enough.

"I'll do it! I want to learn how to defend myself. I can't rely on you guys all the time."

Seeing him suddenly grin, you knew you were about to experience hell.

[spenglernot]

STORIES TELLING: NED LOWE AND THE DEATH OF POOR REPRESENTATION IN OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH

In history, Ned Lowe was one of the most sadistic and violent pirates in the early 18th century, so he’s an obvious choice for a villain for season 2, episode 6 – Calypso’s Birthday.  What is interesting is what the OFMD writers chose to do with him.

Lowe announces himself to the crew of the Revenge with great fanfare (cannon ball attack) and gets right to the point.

Ed is thoroughly unimpressed.

Cut to Ed and Stede tied up while Ned attempts to set the mood so he can monologue about why he wants to kill Ed.

Ed knows what’s coming. He is going to suffer but he still can’t be arsed to meet Ned with anything but vaguely bored dismissiveness (and Stede is happy to play along).

Up on the deck, Ned prepares the crew for his big, dramatic moment of symphonic torture.

Note that the Revenge crew is tied down, braced by vices and generally unable to protect themselves from imminent torture and possible death, but their spirits are up. They don’t seem terribly fussed.

Then Stede uses his people positive management style to happily orchestrate a worker uprising in Ned’s crew.

Ned’s crew responds instantly; severing their allegiance to Lowe and telling him off.

The crew sails away and talks profit sharing while Ned dully threatens to hunt them down.

Ned is now a prisoner of the Revenge crew and seems entirely disinterested in his own survival.

And Ned sinks to the depths, without struggling at all.

There is a lot going on in this episode: pay and labor equity direct action, gay love engagement bliss, kink humor, Stede being a hero and saving his crew by playing to his strengths, then having to decide whether to kill in cold blood and feel the consequences of that choice. Ed having one more reason to be done with piracy (while being so impressed with and fond of Stede), and then watching his man make a fraught choice and having to deal with the fallout from that. (And, damn, I haven’t even mentioned the passionate sex bit.) Anyway, back to the point.

Now for the the meta part

The Ned Lowe sequences are perfectly in keeping with OFMD’s signature blend of madcap violence, humor, and big emotional gut punches. But something about Ned Lowe just strikes me as off for this show.

Ned is seriously threatening the crews’ lives, so why don’t they take him seriously?

Why does Ned have such a boring, throwaway backstory?

Why is Ned so nonchalant about his own death; like it’s a foregone conclusion?

Why does Ned have a silver violin and silver spurs on his slip-on dress shoes?

Why is Ned sartorially monochromatic?

And then I realized who Ned reminds me of.

This guy,

Earnst Stavro Blofeld in the James Bond film Diamonds are Forever (1971)

And this guy,

Scar in Disney's The Lion King (1994).

And this guy,

Xerxes, 300 (2006).

And it sure seems like Ned Lowe isn’t just an episodic villain. He is an archetype of the one-dimensional, stereotypical queer-coded villain that has been endemic in film and television throughout history. The OFMD writers have a lot to say about what to do with this kind of character:

Don’t respect him.

Feel free to openly mock him.

Don’t let him take your joy, even though he will hurt you.

He won’t disappear on his own. You have to throw something at him (take action) to make him go away.

Once he’s in the water, he’s content to drown. He’s not into what he’s doing any more than you are.

Oh and, just to be clear,

The LGBTQIA+ community has a very long history of turning shit media into better stories. So, hey, big media, prepare to have your crap characters wrecked (improved).

Now, back to our transformative pirate show with rich, complex queer characters and a multi-layered plot that surprises me every week and makes me feel big feelings - most of all, joy.

Final thought: I do wonder if Ned Lowe is monochromatically silver as a tribute to/poke at, Hollywood and the silver screen.

This meta was written before OFMD season 2 has fully aired. No idea what’s going to happen in the finale (and I’ve generally fled social media to avoid spoilers). I’ll be back, looking at everyone’s fascinating posts after episode 8 airs.

[amuseoffyre]

With Black Sails being back in streaming in some areas, I'm imagining how much it would infuriate the current slew of people who are convinced that watching morally gray/bad characters makes you as a viewer a morally gray/bad person.

Our leading man straight up beats someone to death with a cannon ball in the first couple of episodes and kills many many many people while acting out of grief, loss, remorse and rage. Also, he is baby and cries in his cabin.

One of our leading lady abandons and double-crosses her lovers (both male and female) out of her desire to do what she believes is the right thing to keep their world alive and running, trading, bartering and fighting every step of the way.

And the best part is that none of these characters start out this way. We have so many idealists. The hopeful ones who want the better world, but the better world isn't something 'civilisation' will allow them to have and the carnage comes when they try and change things. It's a scream against the injustices of the world that pushes people to desperate measures to hold onto and protect what little they have.

This is how they survive. They paint the world full of shadows and then tell their children to stay close to the light. Their light. Their reasons. Their judgments. Because in the darkness, there be dragons. But it isn't true. We can prove that it isn't true. In the dark there is discovery. There is possibility. There is freedom in the dark once someone has illuminated it.

Everyone else is ruthless, survivalist, determined to do whatever they have to in order to get what they want/need. People make horrible decisions out of desperation and because there's literally no other choice. And there are consequences. Each action causes ripples in the canon pool. No decision, no matter how reckless/hopeless/desperately made, comes without repercussions.

Unlike so many series, what happens in the episodes before directly impacts how the events that follow play out. Action and reaction. It's a narrative that begins long before we join the story and, when we leave it, it's a narrative that will continue long afterwards. It's a bloody, chaotic, glorious and devastating would-be revolution.

In case I hadn't mentioned it, I adore this show with every fibre of my being. It is packed with so many layers and so much nuance and history and phenomenal character arcs.

[thoughtsfromlayla]

A Pirate's Dream For Me

Summary: Captain Fortune, pirate queen of the seven seas. You could never be tied down, no matter who it is that asks, no matter what it is that comes after you.

Notes: ~1.3k words, NAMED READER cause I thought it would be hilarious if a woman on a ship was named misfortune, cause yknow, they were considered bad luck *slaps knee*

Warnings/Tags: slight possessive Dream, but he's chill frfr

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“Hard to starboard! Heave those ropes, now!” You scream as you run up the steps to the boat’s wheel. You hear your first mate repeat your orders and your crew flies into action. 

Thump… thump… thump…

The sound comes from deep in the waters, ripples following its movements. The air is heavy and hot, it’s stagnant even as the wind pushes on your sails. You shove away the person at the helm, ushering them to help out their other crewmates. You spin the wheel fast as you feel the wind change its course on you. 

“Come on, my beaut, fly for me,” You mutter to your ship. 

Thump.. Thump.. Thump..

You could smell it before you could see it, the vibrations of its tentacles came closer and closer to your ship and crew. It smelled of rotten fish and old metallic blood. 

Thump! Thump! Squelch…

“All hands on deck!” You scream again as you hear the slimy sounds of its large arms begin to crawl the walls of your ship.

Your heart is racing in your chest, but you find yourself caught in a smile as you watch the beast emerge from the depths of Davy Jones's locker. Tentacles three times the size of your mast, filled with suckers the size of the very wheel you mastered. 

The Kraken. 

A beautiful, deadly creature, come to take the love of your life away with one fell swoop. Well, you certainly won’t go without a fight. The sun blazes down on you, the feather on your captain’s hat whipping violently in the chaos of it all. Your crew falls silent, shocked and stunned at the view of the large beast. 

“Arm the cannons, fire at will!” You order as you watch those below you scrambling over each other. Your command brings them back to the present. 

Some disappeared below deck to start the cannons, and others began to raid the armory. The sound of blades being pulled from their scabbards and the clicking of guns being loaded penetrate the air as the ship sails the rough waters. 

Screams fall shortly after as the Kraken’s tentacles start to block out the sun. They come slamming down, the action sounding like a cracked whip. Its tactile arms feel around in large swoops as it grabs anything it can get a hold of. Barrels of gunpowder, crates of illegal goods, and your crew. 

You grab a random rod that was snapped out of place and jammed it into the helm, keeping your ship on course. With a yell, you fly down the stairs and unsheath your blade in one hand and cock your pistol with the other. A slimy appendage comes for you, which you shoot. The sharp pain of your bullet is enough for the beast to pull back its arm. But, not before it comes back again and finds itself wrapped around your first mate. His arm shoots out and quickly you grab it, the other coming down with a force to slice at the beast. 

You’re losing your men left and right as the tentacles climb higher and higher. You’ve seen this before, you’ve seen the absolute power the creature possesses. And amidst the chaos of splintering wood and screams you shouted your last order. 

“Abandon ship, head for land!” You scream defeated. 

At once, your crew drops whatever they are holding and heads for the longboats. They climbed over each other, dodging tentacles as much as they could before dropping haphazardly into the raging sea. You’re the last to leave, ready to heave yourself over the railing but the deafening sound of your ship snapping in half leaves you abandoned. 

You fall with the ship, and the humidity of the Kraken’s breath surrounds you. The floor cracks, leaving you falling to the ship’s magazine. The gunpowder was still dry���

With another bout of adrenaline, you crawl to your feet and throw the gunpowder's kegs against the walls. The kegs break against the force and you’re covered in the black soot of the explosive material. The sun disappears as you hear the grinding teeth of the Kraken close on themself. The ship groans under the pressure of the Kraken’s throat and with a deep, final breath you aim your pistol at the pile of gunpowder. 

A spark, a flash, and a boom.

The last thing you hear is the screams of your name on your crew’s lips. 

“You killed my Kraken, Miss. Fortune,” A voice pulls you from the depths. 

You feel the soft sand beaches of the tropics underneath you and you force your eyes open to the blazing sun that was probably giving you the worst sunburn imaginable right now. 

The voice that calls to you, it was one that you’ve heard twice before. Once upon a dream, when you were but a young girl watching your father making maps for the royal navy. 

“It’s Captain Fortune, and your Kraken destroyed my ship… Dream of the Endless” You groan as you sit up. Your clothes were tattered and burnt at the edges. “She was beautiful, though.”

“My beast, or your ship?” He asks as he looks down at you. 

He stands against the backdrop of every worker’s dream. The palm trees in the distance sway in the gentle breeze of the topics as they use their energies to bare the juiciest coconuts. His black attire made him stick out like a sore thumb, and his skin was ghastly pale compared to your sun tanned one after years at sea. 

“They are both your creations are they not, Dream Lord?” You respond with a smile. 

“Indeed they are,” He replies softly. He watches you carefully as you painfully stand on your feet. 

One of your shoes was missing, which he only acknowledges with a raised eyebrow. Otherwise, you seemed more or less intact, save for the burn marks on your forearms and upper thigh. If he hadn’t come at just the right moment, he feared he might have lost both beauties of the sea. 

“Have you reconsidered your answer to my question?” He asks. 

Your face snaps towards him with a frown; partially to block out that sun (where is your captain’s hat?) and the other because you hated that he asked. Your mind recalls the second, and only other time, you’ve encountered this otherworldly being. It was on the dawn of your 24th birthday, right before you woke up. He came to you in a hazy dream, asking if you wanted to become his queen. To rule the land of the Dreaming together, forever. 

You scoff as you remember. “Given my near death experience? The answer remains the same.”

“Which is?” Dream prompts slowly. 

“No.” You sigh and look out to the horizon. You need to get a new ship, and a new crew, everything can be replaced, but never freedom. You need to get off this island as soon as possible. 

“Then what is it you dream for?” Dream asks even though he knows the answer. He just wanted to keep you by his side for as long as possible, your very presence felt like a clarifying drug to him. 

“For the open seas, the chaos of life, the shine of buried treasure…” You begin to list off, shrugging. There were so many reasons. “A pirate’s dream for me.” 

“I will keep coming for you, my pirate queen” He promises in your ear, or threatens. The words balance on a thin line between the two. 

“I’ve already killed your Kraken.” You smirk and give a flamboyant, sarcastic bow before turning away. 

Little do you know that he has already gifted you a new ship on the other side of the island. He’s sure you’ll love it just as much as the last one he made for you. Dream doesn’t follow you, only his eyes do as your figure disappears. He’s already thinking of another beast to come for you.

The sea excites you, the chase excites him. 

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[fanaticsnail]

Dancando Lambada

Hello everyone! This is my first time writing for Shanks, at the request of @commanderfreethatdust.

I set up a playlist and listened to so much bachata music it was insane. I hope you enjoy reading this one!

My Masterlist is here, just in case you want to see any of my other work!

Crawling to the shore, the weight of your completely soaked formal garment collecting sand around the hemline. You coughed slightly before springing to your feet and shaking the water from your body with large, exaggerated actions. You searched the beach for your companions, finally making eye contact with the man who scurried to shore beside you.

“Where is she?” you questioned him, helping him to his feet. He spluttered out a rough cough to rid his lungs of seawater as you clasped his arm in aid.

“I-,” he began, panting slightly, “I lost her.”

“You lost her?” you said, flittering your eyes to the other members of the vessel, “you lost your sister?”

“I did,” he confirmed, standing alert as he turned to search the beach. You saw a small bundle of heaped material above the flailing arms of the aforementioned woman as she struggled to keep afloat under the weight of her oversized garment. Without hesitation, you assertively made your way back into the water to aid her in her struggles.

You swam to meet with her as she clasped your arms and held on for dear life.

“I got you, love. I got you,” you reassured her, holding her to you as you slowly rode the tide into the beach. She began to sob as she attempted to make her way to the shore.

“It’s ruined, all of it,” she wailed slightly.

“Honey,” you said, drawing her attention to you as you felt the sand finally beneath your feet, “it was just the ceremony. The reception will still be beautiful.”

She sniffed as she began to collect the layers of her large white skirts as she made it to shore. She met the eyes of her brother before she sprinted to the best of her abilities before him.

“Really, Albert?!” she shrieked at him in rage, “you had to test out the barrel of a cannon before I could recite my vows?!”

“I didn’t know it was loaded!” he yelled back in fear, running to flee from the wrath of his sister.

“You ruined everything!” she again reiterated, picking up a small rock and throwing it at him. You groaned and brought your hand to rest on your brow before noticing a large ship sailing to make port in the docks ahead.

“Lilian, look ahead,” you attempted to gain the agitated bride’s attention to bring it to the ship.

“The captain can’t perform the ceremony on dry land, Albert. He doesn’t have that authority,” she continued to berate her brother.

“Lilian,” you said a little louder this time.

“And you sunk his ship, you stupid git,” she continued yelling.

“Lilian!” you bellowed over, finally bringing her attention to you.

“What?” she boomed, fixating her rage onto you now.

“There’s a ship approaching,” you began as you brought your hands into a soothing motion, palms facing the ground as one would make small themselves in front of a charging beast.

“What does that have to do with anything?” she said, finally exchanging her anger for a whimpering sadness.

“The ship is likely to have a captain,” you said, approaching the bride, “and you need one of those to marry you and Remy.”

At his mention, the bride turned to look at her betrothed who had softening features adorned as he looked to her with pure adoration.

“Now,” you began, bringing her eyes to you once more, “go and get yourself and your beau cleaned up. Leave the captain to me and meet me on the dock.”

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

The sails swelled in the breeze at it carried the fine ship into a fresh port. Shanks and his troop of carefree crew began to cheer merrily at the thought of receiving fresh supplies from a new town.

“Looks to be trouble ahead, Captain,” Beckman informed the captain as he walked past him to begin hoisting the sail.

“Trouble?” Shanks said, retrieving his brass spyglass from within his large, dark cape. He lifted the object to make out the form of a sinking ship as the people aboard fled to the shore. He quirked his head slightly, furrowing his brows at the sight that lay before him.

“Marines?” Beckman called over his shoulder as he continued to make light work of the rigging, “Sailors?”

“A leisure vessel, I think,” Shanks said, placing his spy glass back from within his cloak and turning to his first mate, “and I think it was performing a wedding.”

“A wedding?” Beckman questioned, turning to face Shanks after completing an expertly tied knot, “how do you mean?”

“Look,” Shanks said, leaping down from the place next to the navigator, “you see?”

Beckman squinted his eyes to make out the form of a woman in a white dress as she stomped up the sand dunes with several other women in tow.

“Making port now, Captain,” called Yassop from the deck as he threw a lasso to the pillar of the ramp, successfully attaching the ship to the dock.

Once settled against the solid foundations of the dock and extending the ramp; Shanks witnessed a woman dressed in incredibly damp clothes aid the ship’s docking ramp to extend fully to the floor before placing a bare foot against the wood.

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

“Which one amongst you be the Captain of this vessel?” you asked them, prompting the entirety of the crew to bring their complete attention to you.

Your hair was soaked, lying flat against your head, as the weight of your once fine gown hung from your body; hugging every single piece of your skin firmly. You paid the material no mind, although it became slightly transparent from the seawater you unwillingly swam in moments ago.

“That would be me, my lady,” a red-headed man said, stepping forward.

You looked over him. His face almost had a playful gleam adorning it. He had a light scruff on his chin, a three-clawed scar atop his left eye and a dark cloak wrapped asymmetrically from his torso as it completely covered his left arm.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Captain,” you smirked slightly, bowing ever so slightly to him, “please excuse my forwardness, I’m on a tight schedule and there is food about to spoil.”

“Food?” a large man wearing goggles called in glee, prompting you to bring your attention to him, “what food?”

“Salted pork, roasted vegetables, wheels of cheese by the dozen,” you relayed to him while waving your right hand dismissively before snapping your head back to the captain, “but again, I am on a tight schedule.”

“Oh?” the Captain said in a slight teasing tone, “and may I be privy to what would bring such haste upon a fine lady as yourself this day?”

You sighed in slight annoyance before shaking off any apprehension.

“My oldest friend is - was - getting married, you see,” you said to the captain before gesturing further out to the shore, “she has just descended the dunes to fix her attire.”

The captain of the vessel laughed wholeheartedly at your explanation, prompting his crew to also chuckle at the situation.

“And what would you have me do?” he laughed, “I’m no tailor. I have no idea how to fix a salt-soaked wedding dress.”

You snickered at his comment, tucking a damp strand of hair behind your ear and looking to your feet slightly before returning your gaze to the amused Captain before you.

“Well, sir,” you began, biting your lip slightly before fully allowing yourself to explain further, “we are in need of a ship and its Captain.”

His brows twitched slightly in confusion as he slightly shook his head.

“For what reason?” he asked you, placing his right arm on the railing as he began to descend onto the dock below.

“Well, we lost our ship, as you can plainly see,” you gestured to the completely sunken ship off the shore of the coast, “and our church had been ransacked by pirates a few months prior; forcing our priest to flee to his home monastery for funds to create a new one.”

The captain descended to fall before your being. You immediately felt small as his taller persona towered over your form, his cape falling to cascade over his left leg slightly.

“And you want to use my ship to what,” he paused before looking back to his crew, “throw a party?”

He and his crew laughed at the notion, prompting you to join them slightly.

“No, sir,” you directed him, “as I said. We have no trained leader or lawman among us presently. We have a captain, but his ship is now claimed by the sea.”

The red-head turned his gaze back towards your own, his laughter dying but his smile remained.

“I understand,” he said to you with a small smirk, “you need someone with jurisdiction of the waters to officiate the ceremony.”

“Yes,” you felt the words breathily leave your lips, “we need you, Captain.”

His smirk upturned further into a warm smile as he fully grasped your words of desire.

“And my ship, I presume?” he questioned, fully stepping onto the wooden dock to join with you in level ground.

“Aye, sir,” you said with a small nod, prompting him to breathe a laugh through his nose at your confirmation.

“And what shall we have as payment, my lady,” he teased slightly, his eyes playfully squinting full of absolute delight at your humility.

You stepped forward, unafraid of his taunt and proceeded to bring your body within an intimate proximity. You angled your chin up to be within inches of his scuffed jaw, as you looked up at him through your eyelashes.

This caught the captain slightly off guard, not fully processing the motion you had set in place.

You could taste the salt on his skin as you brought your lips inch by inch closer to his own before quirking your head to the side.

“Rum, dinner, and a good time,” you whispered your breath against his lips in a sultry tone, smiling as you felt him lean in slightly at your administrations. You held his unadulterated attention as you kept your proximity for a few moments before the Captain pulled away and looked to his crew.

“You hear that, lads?” the captain asked, “we’re in for a free feed!”

They all cheered in unison as they celebrated the knowledge of an abundance of food to be presented before them. He smiled and turned his face back toward your own and held an intensity in his gaze.

“By all means,” he smiled at you, “bring the love-birds aboard and I will marry them to one another.”

You smiled and breathed a sigh of relief at his generosity.

“Thank you, sir,” you bowed in a small curtsey, presenting your skirts outwardly to the best of your ability. The dampness of your gown made this particular gesture slightly more difficult than originally anticipated, but you extended your formality never the less.

“I feel like I should be thanking you, my lady,” he smiled, “and offering my sincerest apologies for the amount of good food and rum my crew is going to claim from you.”

You giggled at his remark.

“If I may be excused, Captain,” you asked with a slight uneasiness in your face, “I need to change out of my clothes. It’s awfully cold out here and I feel incredibly exposed before your wonderful crew.”

At that, the Captain drew his eyes over your form. He started at your partially dried but still incredibly damp hair before flittering down to your collar bone and holding his gaze there; using his peripherals to search pupilless over your form to take in how exposed your body was in the sea air before finding your gaze once more. You played a knowing smirk upon your features, noticing him searching over your figure with a small hint of desire.

“You’re excused, Miss,” he said, gesturing before the dock.

You felt his eyes fixate against your retreating form, relishing slightly at the attention of the attractive individual as you allowed a hidden smile to toy at your lips.

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

The second ceremony went ahead without a hitch. No cannon fire to sink your vessel at the hands of your close friend’s idiot brother.

The attractive Captain officiated the union between the two lovers and his crew cheered whole-heartedly as he expressed the union to be consummated within a covenant-sealing kiss.

You allowed a ululation to escape from between your lips, holding your right hand up to the side of your mouth to emphasise your joy as the young couple brought their lips together to seal the promise they made with one another. You smiled in glee as Remy dipped Lilian down to deepen their kiss, relishing at the love they found with one another.

At last, the festivities began. You offered your arm to the red-headed Captain to escort him from the deck of his boat to the shore off the horizon as the sun began to set its rays behind you.

You smiled as you witnessed the Captain and his crew gazed almost lovingly at the banquet laid before them, jaws going slack as they spied the sheer amount of food that was available to them.

Several large, canvas marquees were erected along the coastal shore; wooden, felt tipped torches aligning the pathway to their entrances.

Food stretched the left-most wall of the tent as it sat atop extended rectangular tables. The variety ranged from cold, cured meats and several varieties of cheeses to a suckling pig on a spit adjacent to a fattened lamb as they rotated over a freshly dug fire pit. Several variety of flattened breads, rounded loaves and lentils lay in woven baskets; the exotic scents lingering in the air. The indulgent sweets: chocolates, caramels, sweet honeys and moulded crisp sugar pillars adorned the table extended to the end of the room.

“Your payment as promised, Captain,” you gestured to the room before you, “take what you desire and please-,” you added, bringing your gaze slightly at his parted lips.

He turned his eyes to pull from the food to rest on your almost suggestive gaze.

“Please?” he whispered in question, looking through his half-hooded eyes at you. You smiled at him before looking again upwards to bring your eyes to his own.

“Stay for the party,” you demanded, rather than posed as a question to the cloaked captain in front of you.

“As you command, my lady,” he said with his eyes revealing his heavily utilised smile lines as he brought an absolutely honest smile to his lips.

You turned on your way after releasing him from his arm linked within your own, bouncing slightly as you ran to join in the lively dancing that was taking place against the warm coastal sand.

Approaching Albert as he rested wallowing atop the trunk of a fallen tree, you extended your hand out to him which he wordlessly took as his boyish grin returned to its spot atop his lips. You beamed at him as you began to pull him within the ring of dancers.

You arched your legs, placing one of Alberts own between them as you both swayed to the music. You cascaded your hands to the air as he embraced your lower and upper back and swayed your hips to the fast-paced, rhythmic music. Following his lead, you span your body to the music, allowing your now smaller skirt to swirl upwards to almost reveal your undergarments. He reached both of his hands to clasp your own and twirled you within them in a cross-hatched movement; embracing you as he held your hips against his own with his interlocking arms.

You both gleefully laughed as you danced together, as you both would often choose one another as dance partners in events such as these due to your prior mutual history.  He dipped you backwards and rotated you over his leg before snapping you back up. You pressed your forehead against his own and shimmied your shoulders while continuing to fan your skirt out in the sway of your hips.

As the song came to an end, you cheered again to the minstrels for their musical illumination. You laughed at Remy the groom, as he began to feel the effects of slight over consumption of alcohol and fell his back against the sand in exhaustion; prompting Lilian to do the same with her own gleeful laughter.

You squeezed the hand of Albert in thanks for the dance before wordlessly approaching the awaiting Captain as his gaze continued to focus on your approaching form.

“Captain,” you nodded to him in acknowledgement. He smirked at you, nodding his head to recognize your approach.

You began to make your way past him before halting your step and taking a small step backwards to fall before him once more.

“Were you,” you paused momentarily before continuing your sentence, raising your brows in question, “watching me?”

“I was watching you, yes,” he confirmed, nodding with a smile as he held his gaze to the ground to avoid your investigative eyes. You stepped again towards him, bringing your proximity closer to his own. He trailed his eyes to your bare feet and exposed legs before looking to your short, pleated skirt upon your hips.

“Why were you watching me?” you asked with a hint of coy, battering your eyelashes at him. He chuckled at your question, acknowledging he was absolutely caught-out in his desire for you.

“I-,” he began, his words being caught within his throat and halting his words.

You extended your hand to fall below his chin and bring his gaze up to your face.

“You-?” you trailed off to lead him in to further explain himself. He sighed with a warm smile in response, leaning ever to slightly into your hand. As he held no further explanation, you allowed a hint of assertive boldness to come over you.

“Would you care to join me for a dance?” you asked him, eyes flittering between his two orbs as you held a knowing smile on your lips. He chuckled slightly at your invitation before immediately recoiling from your touch.

“I don’t have all the right parts for a dance like that, I’m afraid,” he laughed, bringing his sights from you as he looked at the newly married couple as they circled each other in dance once rising again from the dunes; arms embracing one another as they spun rapidly together. They wove their arms in and out as their hips swayed with gyrating movements as they arched their backs and extended their legs.

“Oh?” you asked him, eyes unashamedly raking over his whole body before settling back on his face, “and what parts might that be?”

At that comment, he bellowed out a large and unrestrained laugh at your question.

“I’m intact if that’s what you’re asking,” he said, removing his dark cape from its placement on his right shoulder blade, “it’s just an arm.”

Your eyes widened at the sudden revelation of his absent limb, your sights holding to that place for a moment before meeting your eyes to his once more.

“So all the important ones are still there, then,” you shrugged with a slight jesting tone, prompting him to laugh further at your comment. Silence fell between you both again as you absentmindedly linked your left arm within his right and rest your head on his shoulder while you witnessed the couple continue to dance together.

“You’re self-conscious about it, then?” you asked, leaning your head back to have your eyes meet with his face as he continued to focus on the couple. He had a small, almost sorrowful expression fall to his face for an incredibly almost invisible moment before he smiled again.

“Not in the slightest,” he said, bringing his gaze to rest on the sand below his sandals. You hummed at his comment. You then pulled yourself away from its place huddled against his side and stood firmly in front of him.

“So it’s me then?” you asked with a quirk of your brow. He snapped his gaze up to you at that comment and open and closed his mouth as if to speak.

“I’ll find you someone to dance with,” you nodded before turning to look to the crowd before you as you began listing them.

“There’s Ariana; she’s incredible. Best bachata dancer in the east blue, I swear to you,” you said before turning to another woman among them, “or there’s Yasmita. She would seriously, and I might add shamelessly,” you said, while bringing your hand up to shield your mouth from the crowd before bringing it down again, “mould her body against yours and listen to your every direction.”

You laughed at your own comment before turning to gesture to another member of the crowd; “or there’s Zoe-,”

“-No,” you heard the Captain utter with an authoritative tone, bringing his right hand to your cheek and pulling your gaze to meet with his as they searched your eyes. His prior playfulness all but disappeared from his face as he held your cheek, caressing it as he stared at you with longing. Your eyes flittered between his two, searching for any unspoken reason he would not want to dance.

“Then,” you paused slightly as you inhaled a slightly shaken breath, “you just don’t like dancing?”

He smiled at you slightly, his eyes again returning its former playful glint to them.

“Oh, I like dancing,” he assured you with a nod, bringing your face closer towards his. You smiled at him, knitting your brows together in incessant confusion.

“I just can’t dance like that,” he chuckled, nodding his head to the couples as they swayed their hips together as they held their bodies pressed together in almost intimate juxtaposition.

“Oh,” you breathed out, quirking your head to the side as you comprehended what the red-headed captain confessed to you. You paused for a moment, the Captain releasing your cheek from his hold.

“Come with me,” you said, bringing your left hand to join with his and interlaced your fingers together as you made to lead him down to the shore; away from any undesired attention.

“And where are you taking me?” he laughed at you, following in step behind you.

“To somewhere secluded so you don’t make a complete ass of yourself,” you called over your shoulder, “I’m going to teach you to dance.”

Once arriving at a partially lit area still in ear shot of the drumbeat and up-tempo melody, you brought your hips flush with the red-head Captain. You noticed an immediate blush rise itself to his cheeks as he laughed at himself at the rise of his embarrassment.

“Oh, get a hold of yourself,” you playfully reprimanded, “now, put your hand here.”

“This is the stance,” you whispered to him, closing your eyes. He gasped out a small laugh as his own eyes closed.

You took his hand and hooked it below your left arm, using your right hand to direct the placement of his two middle fingers against your spine. You pressed your forehead against his as the two of you bent your legs.

You laced your legs over his right leg and wrapped your right arm around the nape of his neck and intertwined your left fingers into his crimson locks. You felt him take in a sharp inhale of breath through his nose as he felt the entirety of your body pressed flush against his own. You rose a wide smirk to your face at this action, prompting you to massage your left hand fingers against his skull.

“Wonderful,” he commented with praise before adding, “now what do we do?”

You giggled at his question before you began to sway your hips to the music in a very basic movement.

“Now, Captain,” you gasped out, continuing to embrace him closely, “you feel the music.”

He hummed in response as you felt the movement of his hips to the rhythm. He began very rigidly, almost awkward in his movements before relaxing into it as he fully embraced the music.

You held each other closely and began walking together, moving your hips in different directions as he pressed his hand against your spine. You rolled your torso against him before shimmying your shoulders slightly and continuing to rotate your hips against his right leg as he did with your own. He began to pant slightly at the rapidity of your movements and also the arising sensation building within him.

“And, how do I-,” he began, pausing his sway and holding you to him. You opened your eyes as your face flushed with how intensely he was staring at you.

“-How do I twirl you?” he whispered into your lips as he arched his chin up slightly. You gasped out a small laugh.

“Do you sword fight, Captain?” you asked him.

“Alright, Shanks,” you laughed before reiterating your point, “do you swordfight?”

“Shanks,” he said in a breathy sigh, “call me Shanks.”

“I have been known to engage in swordplay, yes,” he confirmed with a light laugh.

“Alright then, Shanks,” you said, “think of me as a sword; an extension of your body, if it please you.”

He hummed at the notion, as he continued to hold you closely.

“It does please me to think of you extended on my body,” he said before he could halt the words, immediately freezing at his unwilling confession.

You released a melodical laugh before unlacing your fingers from his hair and giving him a light tap on the chest in chastisement. He joined you in laughter before again bringing you back into him.

“As you were to flourish your arm to disarm an opponent,” you said again, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck, “tap me using your fingers to tell me which way you want me. Seriously now, give it a go.”

He inhaled slightly as he attempted to maneuver you in a spin, only to get caught slightly between his knees and topple you over; following your body in the process as you both fell to the ground with a thump. As soon as you fell over, a loud laugh escaped your lips as you gleefully fell into the body of the captain beside you. He laughed as loudly as you did before using his right elbow to lean himself upward to hover his face over your own.

He searched your face for any sort of apprehension as to his proximity, to which your eyes brimmed with no such trepidation. He carefully brought his right hand to your hair as he remained reclined on his singular elbow and wove his fingers into your locks as a sigh escaped his lips.

“Thank you,” he expressed in gratitude.

“What for, Shanks?” you asked him in response.

“For everything,” he uttered to you, “for welcoming my crew ashore with promises of a good time. For rum, for food. For everything.”

You giggled in response, rising on your elbows to bring yourself closer to his adoring face.

“And have you had a good time?” you asked him with an air of sultry flirtation.

“I will have if you let me kiss you,” he said, desire expressed in his low tone as his eyes flittered between the two of your own. Your eyes trailed down to fall on his lightly stubbled chin as you reached your hand up and stroked his rough cheek.

Music resonated in the distance, echoes of the gleeful laughter of his crew and the lively movements of twizzled lambada soared through the air as you closed the distance between you.

You gasped into his mouth as you felt the hunger from his kiss. The desire he had for you earlier in the afternoon toppling over as you engaged in dance together; finally reaching the crescendo of the pinnacle of flirtation within each other’s arms.

You pulled him into you, feeling the whole weight of the red-headed captain as he had no arm to catch himself on. You paid the feeling no mind as you circled your arms over his shoulders and held him against you, hungrily pressing your lips firmly against his. He moaned against your lips as he attempted to maneuver himself to not completely suffocate you beneath him. You hooked your legs over his own and thrust your hips into his, rotating him beneath you, with you straddled over his hips. He groaned at this and placed his hand against your left thigh as he rose his torso up to continue to seek out your lips with his own.

His lips were chapped slightly, tasting of rum and salt from the open sea. He seemingly expertly hoisted himself into a seating position, trailing his hand firmly upwards to the small of your back as he continued to lay rampant kisses into you. You brought your hands to his chest and pushed him back slightly, breaking the kiss but maintaining your former closeness.

“We should return to your crew, Captain,” you breathily mentioned, “they must be wondering where I have taken you by now.”

“I wouldn’t worry, love,” he said bringing his right hand to hook some stray hair behind your ear, “they would have absolutely no intention of coming to seek me out right now.”

“And why might that be?” you asked him in a teasing tone. He laughed lightly before gesturing to you.

“Have you seen what you look like?” he exclaimed while raking his eyes over your body and pausing as he fixated on your chest, “especially at how transparent your dress was earlier,” he growled with a hungry smile.

You again slapped his chest before unlacing your legs from between his own and rising to your feet.

“Come on, Captain,” you said, extending your hand out towards him, “I want to see the bride and groom off.”

He accepted your hand as you leant backwards to hoist him to his feet.

“And then well see where the night takes us,” you suggested, bringing his arm to wrap around your shoulders, in turn lacing yours around his red sash-covered waist.

He pressed his lips to your hairline before whispering against it, a groan exiting his lips absolutely dripping with unrestrained desire: “Promises, promises.”

[teecupangel]

Colossal Squid! Desmond and I'll give you my bones

“Have you heard the legends of the Kraken, Shay?”

“Every sailor has.” Shay answered politely, glancing at their guest.

Even as bitter wind gripped its claws at them, Haytham Kenway looked as prim and proper as a gentleman on his way to watch an opera.

Shay, on the other hand, had pulled the fabric around his neck up to cover his freezing nose.

“And do the stories tell of the Kraken a monster that destroys without any care of one’s status or upbringing?”

“The sea is a cruel mistress to all, Master Kenway.” Shay answered, glancing to his right. Gist just shrugged, obviously also a bit confused to why Haytham Kenway was talking about the Kraken all of a sudden.

“Yes, she is.” Haytham agreed as he walked towards the bow of the ship, “But the Kraken is not cruel.”

“He is playful and intelligent. He also has the habit of trying to show his displeasure using his limbs.” Haytham continued, making the other crew members stare at him, forgetting their tasks as they listened to a man who sounded like he knew the Kraken himself, “But above all else…”

“He is one ugly squid.” Haytham commented.

They would have laughed at that but the waters beneath them grew dark almost immediately.

Large tentacles rose from the depths and the crew shouted in fear and surprise.

Shay immediately ordered them to main the cannons but stopped when Haytham said, “It is no use. Human weaponry does not work on him.”

Shay froze, noticing that what he had thought to have been sunlight against the tentacles was actually…

Glowing lines that reminded Shay of the light of that device back in Lisbon.

For a brief moment, Shay was paralyzed, the fear and pain of that day flashing before him.

Haytham was still speaking and Shay tried to focus on his voice.

Haytham wasn’t there in Lisbon.

Shay wasn’t there in Lisbon anymore.

Haytham was his anchor to the present.

“The Kraken is what those who know nothing call him. The Templars though… had a different name for him.” Haytham continued calmly, as if the ship had not been kept in place by tentacles coiling all around it. There was no creaking sound and that only made Shay more frightened.

The Kraken knew how to control its strength so it wouldn’t damage the ship, only keep it immobilized.

That kind of intelligence…

“Desmond.”

Shay frowned.

Where have he heard the name before?

“The sea monster that Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad tamed. The ruler of the seas that cares for the Assassin Brotherhood.”

That’s right.

Shay heard Adéwalé talked about a ‘Desmond’ before. Shay had thought it was some kind of pet because Adéwalé talked about how it followed his old friend whenever he sailed.

One of the tentacles reach out towards Haytham and Shay shouted, “Master Kenway!”

Haytham raised a hand, stopping Shay from unsheathing his dual blades.

“Do not move, do not speak, do not even think.” Haytham ordered calmly, “He is here for me.”

“Will this be the day you drag me into the depths, Desmond?” Haytham asked, a slight curiosity in his tone, “Or will you still prolong this dance we share?”

The tentacle wrapped around his neck but, with how big the tentacle was, it wrapped his entire upper body instead.

Haytham didn’t seem worried, looking at the sea below as he stood at the very tip of the bow, “Well?”

Shay and the rest of the crew could only stare, frozen by fear and confusion, as Haytham was slowly lifted.

… before he was placed in the center of the ship. The tentacles uncoil around him slowly. There was a pause before it flicked Haytham’s hat off and Haytham simply gave a tired sigh.

The tentacles let go of the ship and returned to the depths of the sea.

It took a few seconds before the water returned to its normal color.

The entire crew gave out a relieved sigh as many of them fell on their asses.

“Master Kenway, what was that?” Shay asked and all of them turned to stare at the mysterious man as he picked up his hat.

“That was Desmond.” Haytham said as if he was just introducing a family friend he didn’t get along with, “The Sea Scourge of the Templars. He attacks every ship that shows its Templar affiliation. He won’t attack this ship though.”

“It won’t?” Shay couldn’t stop himself from sounding skeptical.

“As long as I sail with you, he will not.” Haytham said.

“Why?”

“Because that squid still believes I am my father’s son.”

[m00nlight-ramblings]

Little One

After defeating the Netherbrain and settling in Waterdeep with Gale, you become pregnant. To no one's surprise, Gale is very excited.

Pairings: Gale x reader who can become pregnant

Warnings: allusions to sex, throwing up, fluff

Word Count: 2.4k

Requested: yes

A/N: I know it's cannon that Gale doesn't want kids, but a lady can dream. Banner made by me, I do not give permission for my work (banner or writing) to be shared without my consent.

The sunlight streamed through the windows as you slowly opened your eyes, the morning birds of Waterdeep gently rustling you out of your sleep. You knew Gale had an early morning class, so you took advantage of his early leave by stretching all of your limbs, taking over the whole bed. You didn’t have anywhere to be before starting your errands that afternoon, so you sighed contently, fluttering your eyes closed “for just a few more moments”. The sunlight felt so nice – the peaceful morning started to pull you under sleep’s spell easily.

That was, until a wave of nausea rushed through you so violently, it made you keel over in bed and moan.

With as much strength as you could muster, you prodded over to the bathroom, having to physically hold your hand over your mouth in fear of expelling whatever wasn’t agreeing with you.

Finally making it inside, you opened the lid of the toilet just in time, emptying yourself of the muck with a loud – and very embarrassing – sound. Sweating, you fell to your knees, the anxiety rush of getting sick spreading throughout your entire body. You waited a few moments, panting over the toilet, and just when you thought you were done, another wave of nausea hit you, sending you tipping into the bowl once more.

After what seemed like forever – but in actuality, more like 30 minutes – you stood, walking over to the sink and rinsing your mouth. You heard a soft pitter patter enter the room, and you braced yourself, spitting the gross from your mouth. Silently casting a spell to speak with animals, you wiped your brow.

“Are you alright, dear?” Tara asked, sitting on her little paws and tilting her head. Her tail flicked underneath her, and you could swear she was raising an eyebrow.

Nodding slowly, you huffed, the coolness of the sink tile feeling good against the blaze of your body heat. “I’m…fine. I think I ate something last night that didn’t agree with me.”

“Hm…” Tara mewled, her tail flicking once more, “But Mr. Dekarios had the same dinner as you last night and was up, bright and cheery as normal this morning! How…peculiar.”

You paused for a moment, grabbing the small mirror on the shelf in the bathroom. You looked at yourself – pale, shaking, and sweating – and groaned, feeling uneasy on your feet. You put the mirror back and trotted back into bed, the errands you had to run seemingly start to slip away from you in your current state.

You closed your eyes and pulled the blankets to your neck. Though the nausea was gone, you still felt hollow and sickly inside. You expelled a shaky breath as Tara followed you to the bed, burrowing under the blankets to cuddle up next to you as she often did in the mornings. Her feathers tickled your neck as she circled slowly, trying to find her most comfortable spot. She finally settled, pushing into your stomach, sending a weak pang of sick through you again.

“Oh, dear.” She stated plainly, her voice monotone.

“…‘oh dear’?” You echoed, your voice croaking.

“Darling…you either have a soul-sucking demon in your stomach, stealing your power from the inside…or you’re with child.”

Flying up to a seated position, nearly causing you to get sick again and making Tara fly off the bed, you looked at her.

“What did you just say, Tara?”

Her feathers ruffled as she grumbled, standing up, “Dear, do give me a warning next time you decide to send me sailing in the air.”

“Tara, I need you to speak plainly with me,” You said quickly, your anxiety spiking, “…did you just tell me I was pregnant?”

Tara nodded, a smile playing on her lips, “I did indeed, dearie. Animal intuition…I sensed the babe when I laid next to you. Perhaps a cleric’s visit is in order?”

Sweat broke out on your brow again, but this time it wasn’t from feeling sick. You stood gently, changing into the first clothes you could find. Tara followed you around the room quietly, her tiny feet padding around on the hardwood.

“Pregnant…” You muttered, brushing your hair and scooping it into a bun. Slipping your shoes on, you started to make your way out of the bedroom, “Me? Pregnant? Gods…”

“I wouldn’t be so surprised, dear,” Tara said, now fully smiling, “After all of the nighttime activities you and Mr. Dekarios take part in, is it really any wonder you wound up with child? He seems to have enough practice being called ‘Daddy’, in any sense.”

“Tara! Please – now is not the time.” You grabbed your small satchel from the hook by the front door of your home, shooting a look to Tara, who only smiled smugly at you. You made a mental note to discuss the volume of your nighttime routine with him later in the day.

Heading out the door, you couldn’t help but have a million scenarios run through your head – what if this was just a sickness, and Tara was wrong? Or, what if you were pregnant – how would Gale take the news? How would he be as a father? How would you go about making sure everything was ready for the arrival of the baby?

Your heart was racing as you made your way to the town cleric, hoping to the gods that you could get some answers.

As the sun was setting, the sky turned brilliant colors of amber and gold. It truly was your favorite time of day – the shades of gold blanketing the world, a sense of calm settling over the ground.

You smiled as you looked out your open kitchen window, dinner cooking away. Periodically you would stir the food, making sure the preparation was going according to plan, but you always returned to that same window. As you peeked through it, you saw Gale walking up the road to your home. He noticed you in the window and gave a little wave, smiling.

You smiled back and walked to the front door, opening it for him. A few moments later he met you at the door, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek.

“My love,” He whispered, pulling back. He sniffed the air and smiled, “Dinner smells marvelous. Absolutely necessary after the lessons I had today.” He strode into your home, gently guiding you back inside before he closed the door. You went back to dinner, starting to chop the garnishes for plating.

“Rough day?”

“Gods, my pupils were just…indescribably distracted today,” He groaned, slipping his shoes off at the door and dropping his bag. He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips, “I do love them, obviously, and they are wonderfully talented, but they just need discipline.” He groaned as he sat at the kitchen table, rubbing his temples. Sighing, he looked up at you, still smiling, “How was your day, darling?”

You hummed as you plated dinner, putting Gale’s in front of him as you sat down. Out of your pocket, you took a piece of paper out and handed it to him. It was folded in precise lines, sealed with a wax seal. Gale, giving you a confused look, gingerly took the paper.

“Now what is this?” He asked cautiously.

“Open it.” You urged, casually taking a bite of your dinner, but still smiling. He squinted his eyes in mock concern at you, but gently broke the wax seal, unfolding the paper. He cleared his throat before reading aloud.

“‘Dear Mr. Dekarios’,” He started, a flourish in his voice, “‘Congratulations on your newfound journey to…fatherhood’…” Gale stopped short, immediately looking at you. He stopped reading the letter and became very still, “…darling…who is this letter from?”

Tears prickled on your eyes as you swallowed them down, “The town cleric…I saw them this morning…after I woke up awfully sick…and Tara urged me to go…”

Gale paused a moment before gently putting the paper down. A smile played on his lips as he leaned in, “…and…what did you discover at the cleric this morning?”

You smiled and pressed your lips together, trying to stop the tears. You couldn’t help it – they flowed freely as you smiled, “That I am around a month along with our baby.”

Gale was suddenly up from his chair, a loud cheer escaping his lips. He grabbed your hands, pulling you up from yours and wrapped his arms around you. He laughed and ran his hands through your hair, holding you close and kissing you all over your face.

“Gods, please tell me this isn’t a joke, my love.” He said, pulling back. Tears spilled from his eyes as well, matching yours. You laughed and shook your head.

“Not a joke, Gale. We’re having a baby.”

He held on to your arms as another excited cry came from him, pulling you into another hug. You both jumped up and down, holding on to each other and laughing wildly. Gale spun you around the room in a dance, excitedly chirping in your ear about how he would take care of you during the pregnancy, and all the wonderful things to come as parents.

Dinner was very cold before the two of you even attempted to sit down again.

“Gale, please, leave me be – I really don’t want you to see me like this,” You groaned, your head resting on the toilet. “I am disgusting.”

Gale shushed you quietly, rubbing soothing circles on your back, “Nonsense, my love. I am here for you. And you are beautiful,” He leaned down to press a kiss on your temple, and you heard his breath hitch, “Even if your breath is…less than beautiful.”

“You did this to me, you know,” You murmured, hitting him gently, “Four months ago, you just couldn’t resist bedding me after that dinner we had in town, could you?”

“In my defense, if you were me, and you saw yourself through my eyes in that dress, you’d do the same,” He gently pat your back, “Sickness is just a part of the journey – it does not negate your beauty in any sense.”

“Easy for you to say…you don’t want to puke every time you smell anything cooked with garlic, fish, eggplant, bananas, olives, or pig-” At the mention of food, you immediately felt your stomach lurch and you braced yourself at the toilet. Gale scooted quickly behind you, grabbing your hair gently and placing a firm hand on your side.

“I have you, my love. It’s alright…it’ll pass. I’m right here.” He murmured in your ear quietly as you expelled the feeling from your body, surprised you even had anything else left.

After a few moments, you sat back, sighing heavily. Tears clouded your eyes as you opened them, looking at Gale, “…I think I’m okay for now. Help me up?”

Extending a hand and guiding you up, Gale placed you in front of the sink so you could rinse off. He quickly made his way back into the bedroom, and when you followed him after you were done, you saw he was fluffing the pillows and pushing back the blankets for you. The window above the bed was open, cool air flowing through the room.

You slipped into bed and Gale instinctively slipped an arm around you as you laid on your side. His hand immediately found your now growing belly, and he started to rub his fingers over the protruding mound that wasn’t there four months ago. He placed a kiss on your neck.

“What about the name Tomos, for a boy?” He suggested quietly, his hand moving from your belly to your face, brushing a piece of sweaty hair away from your face.

You contemplated it for a moment before speaking, “Better than ‘Gale Jr.’”

“Gale Jr. is a quite right name, if you ask me.” He retorted.

“What about Jarrett?”

“Hmm…” Gale thought absentmindedly, before changing direction, “What about what we want for a girl?”

“I still like Afrae.” You said.

“Oh! Nadia?”

“Oh, I like Nadia!” You smiled, breathing out a shaky breath. Gale gingerly fondled your belly again.

“How are you feeling?”

“The best I can be after puking my brains out for almost an hour straight this morning.” I grumbled. He tutted in support, palming your belly gently.

“You need to be nicer to your mother, little one,” He said sternly to your belly, “You’re going to be hells on wheels, crying and such, when you come out, so the least you can do is ensure Mother has a good growth period, hmm? What do you say?” He tilted his head towards the belly.

You giggled, turning your head towards him slightly, “I don’t think that’s going to do anything, unfortunately.”

“Humph,” Gale grumbled, “I need to start young…teach our little one who’s the boss in this home.”

“You mean Tara?” You asked, “Because she very obviously is the boss in this home.”

“Darling, I resent that, you know,” He said chuckling. Suddenly, he stopped, “…but that is very true, actually.”

You chuckled and sighed contently, placing your arm over Gale’s that was still resting on your belly. “We still need to get going on the nursery…”

Gale also sighed, shifting so he was closer to you, “I know…we’ll get to it. We still have five months before little Gale Jr. arrives.”

“What do you think about a ‘night sky’ theme, for the nursery?” You asked, completely ignoring Gale Jr. “Maybe it’ll help Little One fall asleep, since it’ll be dark and comforting?”

“That sounds lovely,” Gale said, “Stars painted on the ceiling. I could quite possibly enchant it so the stars twinkle…I’ll make a note to do that at work tomorrow.”

You nodded, your eyelids falling shut. Little One was taking all of your strength – a weird, coincidental omen from how Tara first described them (but much nicer, of course) – and it was hard for you to make it through the day without multiple naps. As you felt yourself succumbing to sleep, Gale held you closer, knowing you were drifting off to sleep.

“Get some rest, my love,” He whispered, kissing your temple, “My beautiful love. Creating the most precious, perfect gift. I am so thankful I get to call you my partner, and the mother of my child. I will never stop reminding you how grateful I am for your love. Forever.”

You drifted off to sleep, a smile on your lips.

----

As always, comments and reblogs would mean the world if you enjoyed it <3 Thank you so much for reading!

[one-idea]

I love the ASL brothers and really want them to be raised by Shanks.

I have an idea but I have to put a few events out of order.

So let’s get into it

We start fairly close to cannon with Shanks’ time on Foosha. He meets Luffy and he loves this kid. It’s the reason they keep coming back to the island in the first place.

Now this is where we are going to start rearranging somethings. Because Shanks and Higuma confrontation happens before Shanks has found the Gomu Gomu no Mi. Mean Luffy doesn’t eat the devil fruit (yet) Luffy gets mad at Shanks for not defending himself against the mountain bandit and runs off. Shanks follows him wanting to explain to the boy why. (Some fights you win by not fighting at all)

It’s here that he learns a hard truth about Luffy. Because Luffy runs home. Where he lives alone in a little shack. At first Shanks in confused, he thought Luffy lived with Makino. But Luffy can’t stay with her full time. She’s not his guardian and doesn’t have the money to care for him. She help him and cares for him when she can but most of the time Luffy is alone. The exception is when his grandfather is in town and is training him by: throwing him down ravines, dropping him in the middle of the jungle, tying him to balloons.

Shanks is horrified. Growing up on the Oro Jackson wasn’t easy. He saw a lot of horrible things when he was too young to process them. But he never doubted he was loved. And here Luffy is, a boy he’s come to love as his own sobbing because “nothing is worse than being alone.”

But Luffy looks at him with determination and says “that why I’m going to be king of the pirates one day because my Namaka will never leave me.” And Shanks knows two things. One Luffy is going to be the king of the pirates. There is not a doubt in his mind that Luffy is the person his captain was waiting for. Luffy is going to change the world when the boy sets out on his own. The second thing is that he won’t leave this little boy, who is walking sunshine, feel unloved or unwanted ever again.

Shanks hugs Luffy close and tells him he knows that Luffy is going to become the king of the pirates but before he can do that he needs so experience on the seas. How does the little anchor feel about join his crew? Luffy is ecstatic! He’s wanted this for so long and now Shanks is letting him on his crew.

But Shanks knows there is still one thing he needs to get before he can take Luffy with him. After all he came to the East Blue in search for one thing, the Gomu Gomu no Mi. He has to find that first. Once he has it he can head back to the New World. If he takes Luffy with him now then they could easily be track down in the East Blue by Luffy’s grandfather.

So he takes his hat off and places it on Luffy’s head telling him, “this hat is my treasure. There is one thing I need to find here in the East Blue before we can set sail for the Grandline. Can you watch over my hat while I find it? It shouldn’t take me more than five months. Then I’ll come back for you and we will set sail to the grandline together.”

Luffy looks up at him with such hopeful eyes “you promise?”

“Of course! I can’t go back to the Grandline without my hat. I’ll just have to bring along the little anchor wearing it.” Shanks tries for joking but ends up sounding way more fond and sentimental.

He cares Luffy back to Makino’s bar, watching as his boy falls asleep in his arms. Once there he explains their new situation to the crew. He then turns to Makino and as he closes the tab for the crew he also gives her more then enough money to take care of her AND Luffy for the next five months. Asking her to watch over his boy for him until he returns. Makino is torn because on one hand should she really be letting Luffy travel with these pirates? But at the same time she’s never seen the little boy be as happy as he is when he’s with Shanks and the crew. So she agrees.

In the morning Shanks leaves after explaining to Luffy he will be staying with Makino until his return.

Well not all plans go according to plan. Especially when Garp returns to see his grandson wearing Roger/Shanks hat and talking about sailing with Shanks’ crew.

That’s a big no for Garp. So he takes Luffy away from Makino and delivers him to Dadan. Strapping a sea stone cuff to his wrist (trying to dampen the boys haki signature so Shanks can’t find him) (yes I know cannon doesn’t full support this but it also doesn’t full disprove it so we’re playing fast and lose today)

This is where he meets Ace and Sabo.

It goes much like it does in cannon. With the two older boys not liking Luffy very much until after Porchemy kidnappes Luffy and beats him. The beating is far more brutal this time around as Luffy has not consumed his devil fruit yet.

The three boys become sworn brothers over shake. And start to bond. Until a few months later when Shanks returns to the island.

He is worried when he can’t feel Luffy while approaching the island. His panic growing as they get closer and closer and there is no sight of their anchor on the dock there to greet them. Shanks hurries to Makino’s bar only to be met by her sad eyes and tearful explanations. She hasn’t seen Luffy for months since Garp took him from her. She’s not even sure if he’s on the island or not at this point.

Shanks and the crew spread out. They’re going to search the whole island. If Luffy is here then they will find him. Shanks heads up the mountain, looking for his boy, he’s stretched out his observation Haki as far as it can go. He notices something strange. The signatures of two young boys but it seems as though they are making room for a third. A third that Shanks can’t sense.

Shanks is heading that way, hoping it’s Luffy. Hoping he’s not crazy. As he’s getting closer he can sense more signatures surrounding the young boys. And whether or not Luffy is with them it would seems these boys are in over their heads. He arrives right as the bluejam pirates are beating Luffy and Ace, while Sabo is dangling in Bluejam’s grasp. To say he is not a happy camper is an understatement.

Shanks moves fast get in between Luffy and Ace and their attackers. The three of them are surrounded but it doesn’t matter much to Shanks, everyone here is far weaker than he is.

The pirates are confused and Outlook III is telling this obviously homeless man to move along as he has no business here. Shanks ignores them and turns to Luffy. “Anchor what’s happening.” “They’re trying to take Sabo from us.”

Shanks doesn’t know who Sabo is or why these full grown adults are beating up his kid and his friends but frankly he doesn’t care. They were dead the moment he saw them hit Luffy. But to hear his son, who has extreme separation problems, crying because adults were taking away his friend. He’s going to drag this out a bit.

A quick blast of conquers haki has all the pirates and the sniveling noble down for the count. He’ll send some crew members out here to have some fun with them later, when three small children aren’t watching the pain he’s willing to put them through for touching his boy.

Sabo’s been dropped to the ground and Ace and Luffy have run to greet him. Luffy’s about squeezing the life out of the poor boy, but Ace stops and puts himself between the stranger and his brothers. Nothing is hurting his brothers, not even this weirdly powerful man.

But Shanks just smiles at him as Ace starts to grandstand. Asking the stranger who he was? What he was doing here? Questions and accusations flying from the angry boy’s mouth. But Shanks just laughs and looks over Ace’s shoulder and asked. “Come on Anchor don’t I get a hug?”

Ace is confused until Luffy rushes past him and throws himself at the stranger. Shanks just laughs as he catches the little boy and holds him tight before pulling back to look him over. He quickly spots the sea stone cuff and asks Luffy about it. Only to learn that his grandfather was behind the gift. A gift Shanks will be removing as quickly and safely as possible. Setting the boy down and drawling his sword.

The whole time Ace and Sabo are trying to figure out who this strange adult is. At least they were until he put Luffy down and drew his sword telling Luffy to hold his arm out and keep it still. The little dumby even does as he asks. The two brothers scream and rush forward to stop this stranger from cutting off their idiot little brothers arm, but they don’t make it in time.

Meanwhile Shanks, unaware or uncaring of the panic he is causing in the other boys, taps his blade against Luffy’s cuff cutting the thing off his wrist. Luffy giggles and thanks him just in time for Ace and Sabo to make it to him and inspect his wrist for damages, there are none. But Ace and Sabo are not impressed with this stranger.

Shanks just laughs and starts leading the boys back to the Red force. They’re hurt and he wants Hango to look after them as soon as possible. Ace doesn’t want to go. But there’s a promise of a doctor for his brothers. And Luffy is going whether Ace’s wants him to or not. So they head down.

This is the start of my idea. The next part is Ace and his extreme dislike of Shanks

He’s going to take Luffy way. (He learns about their promise and is furious that this man is going to take one of his brothers)

Luffy eats the Gomu Gomu no Mi and loses his ability to swim and Ace blames Shanks

That mountain bandit that shanks made mad the last time he was here is back and wants revenge. Mainly Luffy shaped revenge.

Next

[justlookfrightened]

'I Wanna Be Like You'

Filling a prompt from @goddess47: A new rookie has broken one of Jack's rookie records and Jack finds he's really upset; Bitty offers comfort.

The puck thwacked against the tape on Jack’s stick just as he drew it back, and Jack fired it toward the net in one motion, sending the frozen rubber disc sailing over the goalie’s right shoulder and into the back of the net.

In an instant, Willie was embracing him against the boards while Poots and Connie skated in to join the celebration.

Hold on for another thirty seconds, and the game would be theirs.

Sure, it was a meaningless game at the end of another lost season, at least for the Falconers. The best that could be said about it was that the team was playing spoiler, ruining the Blue Jackets bid for the last playoff spot in the east.

Well. They wouldn’t have beaten Carolina in Round One anyway.

The buzzer sounded and Jack started to join the team as they filed down the tunnel towards the dressing room, stopping when one of the broadcast producers plucked at the sleeve of his sweater.

“Number two star,” the producer said.

Jack nodded, waited for Montblanc, the goalie, to take his turn and salute the crowd as number three star, then skated out and raised his stick to the Providence crowd’s cheers.

Willie, who had scored the first goal and gotten the primary assist on the third — Jack’s goal — was waiting to go out as first star.

“You mind waiting here a minute?” the producer asked as Jack tried again to go to the dressing room.

He was tired, his shoulder hurt and his gear was starting to feel uncomfortably clammy. He didn’t know why they would want him for the post-game on-ice interview; that was the first star’s job, although sometimes it got passed to the second star if the first one was new to North America and wasn’t comfortable speaking in English.

That wasn’t the case for Willie, though. Matty Wilson had been drafted by the Falconers in the first round last summer, a product of Minnesota who had moved to Canada in high school to play major juniors. He wasn’t huge for a hockey player, but he was compact and strong, with a powerful first step and a cannon of a shot. He also had the good looks and winning personality that meant he was likely to be the next face of the Falconers.

That was fine with Jack. A decade into an NHL career that he had thought wouldn’t happen at all, Jack was ready to pass the torch. And Willie had had a good season. A great season for a rookie.

Valerie, the broadcaster who did the rink-side interviews, positioned herself between Willie and Jack at the boards.

“Congratulations, Matty!” she said. “With your goal and assist tonight, you have 65 points for the season, a new record for a Falconers rookie.”

“Thanks,” Willie beamed. “It’s been a great season, and I’ve learned so much and developed so much more as a player.”

“Do you know who set the previous rookie scoring record for the Falconers?” Valerie asked, turning to Jack.

Because of course. Jack had set the previous rookie record, at 64 points.

Valerie explained that in case anyone in the arena had missed the point, while Jack offered congratulations to Willie.

He meant his congratulations. It was a huge accomplishment, something that wouldn’t have happened without Willie playing almost every game of the season, without him playing serious minutes in those games, without him becoming a very real scoring threat nearly every shift.

Almost like Jack, who had eclipsed his rookie point total five times in the last 10 years, but not this year.

Willie thanked Jack, and went on to say, “It’s a real honor to be mentioned with Jack, let alone play on the same line. I can only hope to have a career like his.”

Then they were headed down the tunnel side by side, Jack working to make sure he didn’t have a sour expression on his face.

Bitty was still up when Jack let himself in the back door of the house they’d bought three years ago. That was when Jack had signed his last contract, the one with the no-movement clause, and he and Bitty had agreed it was time to think about raising a family. No kids yet, but Bitty adored the dog they’d adopted two weeks after moving in.

The house wasn’t far from downtown Providence, but it was on a big enough lot for Bitty to have a large garden with room left over for an eventual play structure, and, maybe someday, a tiny rink in the winter. Bitty loved it because it backed up to the water, and the kitchen had marvelous natural light for taping his cooking segments.

Jack liked it because he could go out on the back deck at night, and it was magnificently quiet.

“Nice goal in the third,” Bitty said, looking up from his laptop on the kitchen table. “Protein shake is in the fridge.”

“Thanks,” Jack said, letting one word serve as answer for both things Bitty told him. “Puck go out yet?”

Puck lifted his head from the rug in front of the sink when he heard his name.

“Not yet,” Bitty said.

“Come on, chiot,” Jack said, still carrying the tumbler with his shake.

He stood on the deck while Puck sniffed around the yard, watched the dog’s ears prick forward when a rabbit passed by on the far side of the fence, gazed out at the bay. This was better, right? Better than being a rookie, wondering how his career would turn out? He had a home, and a husband (and a dog) who loved him, they were planning to raise a kid or two or three together, his name was on the Stanley Cup twice … this was better. 

Better than having his whole life ahead of him? Better than having his face on all the billboards and the sides of buses. Well, yes, for that part. Even though he was still on some billboards. 

Some things were worse. The way his shoulder hurt after a hard game. The ache he was starting to feel in his hips every day when he got out of bed. How intentional he had to be to recover from one game and be ready for the next.

“Jack?”

He hadn’t heard Bitty come out behind him. Jack looked over to see his husband wrapped in old oversized hoodie, wearing flannel pajama pants and fuzzy slippers, carrying a steaming mug of what smelled like chamomile.

“You okay?” Bitty asked. “Puck should be ready to come in by now.”

“Ouais,” Jack said. He sighed and looked up at the sky, imagining the stars he knew were there from the nights he had spent at the family cabin in Nova Scotia. “Sorry. Just … thinking.”

“About what?” Bitty said, coming to stand right next to Jack, so that when Jack lifted his arm it settled naturally around Bitty’s shoulders, pulling him even more closely to Jack’s side.

“Willie. Matty Wilson. He broke the Falconers rookie scoring record tonight.”

“I saw,” Bitty said. “Is that what’s got you down, that he broke your record?”

“It sounds stupid when you say it like that,” Jack said.

“No, sweet pea, I didn’t mean —”

“No, I know you didn’t,” Jack said. “It’s just, it’s not the record, really. Records are made to be broken. It’s a cliche, but it’s true. I didn’t expect it to last forever.”

“But you didn’t expect to score the goal that let someone break it?”

“I didn’t even know,” Jack said, with a little huff. “I’m his captain. I should have known. I mean, I knew he was having a great season, I knew he was close, but … maybe I didn’t want to know? I didn’t know when I set my record.”

“That’s because the previous record was like, forty points or something,” Bitty said. “You didn’t break that record, you obliterated it.”

“And we had so much success early on,” Jack said. “Then these last few years have been tough. I wanted to stay around until the team gets better again, until we have a chance … but I don’t know if I can. Did you hear him, Bits? Saying that he hopes he has a career like I’ve had? Like it’s over?”

“I’m pretty sure he didn’t actually say that,” Bitty said.

“Maybe not,” Jack acquiesced. “But the implication was there.”

Bitty hummed a noncommittal response.

“I guess I was just remembering what it was like, back when I was a rookie,” Jack said. “I was so worried about everything. I thought I’d ruined everything and would never play in the league, but I did … and I was afraid I’d ruin it again and there would be no more chances.

“And we were new, too, you and me — really, maybe not the best idea for either of us, timing wise, but we made it work,” Jack said.

“That we did,” Bitty said, nuzzling a little into Jack’s shoulder.

“Once we got to the end of the season, and made the playoffs, it felt like — like anything was possible,” Jack said. “And once I retire, it won’t be anymore.”

“No,” Bitty said. “It won’t. Every choice you make — every choice everyone makes — closes off other choices. We bought this house, not the one in Warwick. I went to Samwell, not Georgia. Sometimes we miss out on things just because we got older, or because things don’t go our way. I hate to have to admit this, Jack, but I will never be an Olympic figure skater. And you will never be an NCAA hockey champion. Even though you deserved that so much more than me.”

“You deserved it,” Jack protested.

“I’m not saying I didn’t.” Bitty answered. “But you did too, more than I did. … I don’t know what I’m saying, really. Just that, no one gets everything they want, and I don’t think anyone’s life is really easy, not when you know them well enough to really know. But I hope you don’t have too many regrets. Not about your career, at least.”

“No,” Jack said. “Not about my career. Not about us, or our life, either. I could never have imagined this when I was growing up. It’s just — I got jealous, I think. I got jealous, because Willie still has everything ahead of him, and that feeling that everything is possible. And I remember how exhilarating that was, and how scary. Why did I waste my time being scared? Why didn’t I enjoy it more?”

Jack felt Bitty shrug.

“Because it is scary, when you don’t know how it all turns out,” he said. “People forget that part. Somebody saying they want to be like you — that’s a compliment, Jack. Take the win.”

“I guess,” Jack said. “You’re right. I know you’re right.”

He turned to kiss the side of Bitty’s head briefly.

“And I know I got lucky,” he said, before releasing his husband and calling the dog, who had been sniffing at the bottom of the fence in hopes of finding another rabbit.

“And I know one more thing,” Jack added, as the three of them turned towards the door. “Willie won’t get to win a Stanley Cup his first year. I guess I’ll always have that.”

Bitty shook his head as Jack waited for him to enter the kitchen first. 

“That’s the spirit,” Bitty said. “Is there anything you won’t turn into a competition?

[anonymousewrites]

Pearl of the Sea Chapter Six

Found Family! PoTC Cast x Teen! Reader

Platonic! Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Jack Sparrow, Tia Dalma x Reader

Chapter Six: Outrunning the Pearl

Summary: Elizabeth, Will, and (Y/N) try to escape, and Elizabeth and Will see a new side of (Y/N).

            “You keep looking behind us,” said Elizabeth, glancing at (Y/N) worriedly. “I would have thought you would be watching the ocean go by at the front.”

            She had recognized for years (Y/N)’s fascination with the sea, so, while they were sailing, she anticipated their eyes would be trained on the water. Instead, they were looking at the clouds and fog behind them.

            “The wind’s changed,” murmured (Y/N).

            “What?” said Elizabeth.

            (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed as a dark shape emerged from the clouds. They turned and shouted at Gibbs and the crew. “The Black Pearl is here!”

            Instantly, the pirates were running to let down all the sails catch as much wind as possible.

            “Bloody ship is gaining on us!” cursed Anamaria, standing at command at the helm.

            Elizabeth looked behind them in astonishment. “But this is the fastest ship in the Caribbean!”

            “Obviously not,” said (Y/N).

            Elizabeth grimaced and looked at Anamaria. “We’re shallower in the draft, right?”

            “Aye,” said Anamaria.

            Elizabeth gestured to the starboard side. “Can’t we lose them amongst those shoals?”

            “We don’t have to outrun them long, just long enough,” said Gibbs.

            “It’s the only plan we’ve got,” said (Y/N), looking at Anamaria. Even if it wouldn’t work, (Y/N) would rather fight than just wait to be caught.

            She nodded sharply. “Lighten the ship, stem to stern! Anything we can afford to lose, see that it’s lost!”

            The crew of the Interceptor hurried to throw barrels overboard, trying fruitlessly to outrun the Black Pearl as it gained.

            “Don’t throw the cannonballs!” snapped (Y/N) as someone nearly threw one over. They stood on the side of the ship and held the ropes as they watched the Black Pearl. “We’re going to need those.” The ship was drawing closer.

            Anamaria grimaced and looked at Elizabeth. “It was a good plan, up until now.”

            “Gibbs. We have to make a stand,” said Will. “We must fight.”

            “How?” said Anamaria.

            “With anything we have left,” said (Y/N), stepping forward. “Do you want to sit here and wait for Barbossa or do we want to be taken fighting? I don’t intend to be a coward.”

            Elizabeth, Will, Gibbs, and Anamaria stared at the teenager glaring at them all, and Will was once again struck by the look in their eyes, as wild as it was when they gazed at the sea, now focused and ferocious.

            “You heard them!” snapped Anamaria.

            The pirates jumped to it, firing cannons towards the Black Pearl. They struck, but the ship kept coming. If (Y/N) had to guess, the curse extended to the ship, too.

            “The Pearl’s gonna luff up on our port quarter!” alerted Gibbs. “She’ll rake us without presenting a target.”

            “Lower the anchor on the right side,” said Elizabeth. “On the starboard side!”

            “It certainly has the element of surprise,” said Will, nodding to Gibbs and Anamaria.

            “You’re all daft!” said Anamaria, wondering who the hell Jack had gotten involved with—a crazy man, woman, and teenager all on the same ship.

            “Daft like Jack,” said Gibbs, grinning. He turned to the crew. “Lower the starboard anchor! Do it, you gobs, or it’s you we’ll load into the cannons!” That got them moving.

            The anchor dropped into the ocean, and everyone on board tensed. The anchor hit a shoal, and the Interceptor jerked to a halt. The entire thing tipped to the side, and the ship swung around as the crew braced and tried not to slide with it.

            “Let go of the helm!” shouted (Y/N), holding onto a rope.

            Anamaria let go and allowed the ship to turn as it wanted, free of human control. The waves and momentum carried them around to face the Black Pearl. They were extremely close now. They couldn’t outrun the Black Pearl, so here they were, fighting. Both ships were ready with cannons and jeering at one another.

            “Now!” shouted (Y/N).

            “Fire!” ordered Barbossa.

            “Fire all!” cried Elizabeth.

            “Go!” commanded Will.

            Boom! Boom! Boom!

            Cannons exploded between the ships. Each metal ball landed in the hull of the other ship, blowing a large hole. (Y/N) watched until Elizabeth and Will pulled them back to stay away from the side being broken open.

            “We could use a few more ideas!” shouted Gibbs over the booms of the cannons. “Lass, laddie?!”

            “Make your own!” said Elizabeth.

            “We really should have made sure we had proper cannonballs before we sailed here!” said (Y/N).

            Anamaria narrowed her eyes and grabbed Elizabeth roughly. She pulled her pistol. “We can give them her.”

            (Y/N) lunged, but Will pulled them back. “She’s not who they’re after,” he said, swallowing as he came to a realization.

            Elizabeth looked down at her empty neck. “The medallion,” she breathed.

   ��        “Will, don’t—” (Y/N) grabbed for him, but he ran away. “Will!”

            He dropped into the hull of the ship as it flooded. He needed to find the medallion, now.

            However, while he searched, the Black Pearl crew continued to fire. One cannonball hit the mast of the Interceptor, and it fell to the deck below. Elizabeth covered them as the wood fell and debris rained down on them.

            Barbossa grinned as the ship was crippled. “Pistols and cutlasses, men!” he ordered. “Koehler, Twigg, to the powder magazine!” It was time to board the Interceptor. “And the rest of you, bring me the medallion!”

            Grappling hooks swung onto the Interceptor, and the crew of the Black Pearl climbed over. Elizabeth grabbed a rifle and fired. (Y/N) picked up a fallen pistol and shot towards the pirates.

            Bang!

            The man jerked and fell into the water below.

            (Y/N) paused and waited for shock and disgust to settle in at their actions. Yes, the curse would let him survive, but his body was tumbling to the depths of the ocean, never to be seen again. That was as good as dead. However, (Y/N) felt nothing. They had fought on instinct to protect the ship, Elizabeth, Will, and themself. They felt like fighting.

            (Y/N) gripped the pistol tighter. There was no time for hesitation. These were bad men hoping to do bad things. (Y/N) wouldn’t force themself to feel guilty for acting on instinct.

            Bang!

            They shot again, side-by-side with Elizabeth as men crowded the ship. Unfortunately, the Interceptor crew was being overrun. The Black Pearl’s crew couldn’t die, and the pirates were swarming around.

            “Jack!” Gibbs exclaimed in surprise as Jack appeared, swinging across.

            (Y/N) looked over in surprise, but they were a bit busy fighting with Elizabeth against pirates, so they didn’t have time to pay attention to what he was up to. Several pirates grabbed at them and Elizabeth. (Y/N) kicked at them while Elizabeth rammed her empty rifle into them. Letting out an indignant and slightly fearful cry, (Y/N) thrashed against the pirate. A punch hit the pirate, who fell back. (Y/N) fell to the ground where two arms caught them and hauled them to their feet.

            Jack tutted and looked at the dazed pirate. “That’s not very nice.”

            (Y/N) slammed their foot into the pirate’s stomach, and he fell backwards into the ocean.

            “(Y/N)!” said Elizabeth, grabbing (Y/N) protectively as she spotted Jack. She narrowed her eyes. “You! Wretch,” she hissed.

            Jack looked at her bare neck. “Where’s the medallion?”

            (Y/N) and Elizabeth looked at each other.

            “Ah.” Jack saw the glance. “Where is dear William?”

            “Will,” said Elizabeth, looking back at the now-blocked entryway to belowdecks. She ran to a grate where hands were reaching out from below. “Will!” He was stuck below.

            “Elizabeth! (Y/N)!” shouted Will.

            While Jack noticed the monkey with the medallion, (Y/N) ran to help Will, not caring about whatever Jack was getting up to. Elizabeth and (Y/N) tried to push the debris from the grate.

            But then hands grabbed them. Elizabeth cried out, and (Y/N) thrashed against the pirates dragging them back.

            “Elizabeth! (Y/N)!” cried Will in worry.

            The pirates of the Black Pearl dragged the remaining crew of the Interceptor to the Black Pearl. (Y/N) fought against them, but they were roughly shoved back and hit the wooden deck hard.

            “Gents!” Everyone looked up at Barbossa as he loomed over Jack and stood with the monkey on his shoulder. “Our hope is restored!” He held the medallion over his head. The pirates cheered wildly.

            (Y/N)’s hope plummeted, and they looked at the Interceptor. Will was still there, in danger, drowning. (Y/N) couldn’t stand that, they wanted to help him, but they were stuck because of Barbossa and his men.

            Ragetti and Pintel had been assigned to watch the captives, and they circled the group with sneers. Pintel held his pistol tightly and glared.

            “Any of you so much as thinks the word ‘parley,’ I’ll have your guts for garters!” he growled.

            Boom!

            The Interceptor exploded from the gunpowder the Black Pearl had left there. Elizabeth gasped, and (Y/N)’s eyes widened.

            Will!

            “You godless pirate!” shouted Elizabeth, running at Barbossa.

            He grabbed her before she could hurt him. “Welcome back, miss. You took advantage of our hospitality last time. That was mighty rude of you.”

            “Let her go!” shouted (Y/N).

            Barbossa turned to look at the furious teenager, the only one who had been willing to speak up against him.

            “And who might you be?” sneered Barbossa.

            (Y/N) flinched back, but before Barbossa could take another step, a shout cut through the air.

            “Barbossa!” Soaking wet, Will stood by the side of the ship and held onto a rope.

            “Will,” breathed Elizabeth in relief.

            Will held up a pistol and jumped onto the deck. “She and the child go free!” he demanded. He was instantly negotiating to protect the people he cared about.

            “What’s in your head, boy?” sneered Barbossa, walking towards Will.

            “They go free,” repeated Will.

            Barbossa scoffed. “You’ve only got one shot, and we can’t die.”

            “Don’t do anything stupid,” groaned Jack pleadingly.

            Will leapt onto the edge of the ship and held the pistol to his own head. “You can’t. I can.”

            “Like that…” sighed Jack.

            “Who are you?” said Barbossa, frowning.

            “No one. He’s no one,” said Jack. “A distant relative of my aunt’s nephew, twice removed. Lovely singing voice, though. Eunuch.”

            I’m confused, does he want to use Will’s identity or not? (Y/N) was really wondering what Jack was doing. Maybe he wanted to use it to his own advantage and couldn’t do that if Will revealed it. That was the most likely.

            “My name is William Turner!” announced Will, shredding any last semblance of anonymity. “My father was Bootstrap Bill Turner. His blood runs in my veins.”

            “He’s the spitting image of ol’ Bootstrap Bill, come back to haunt us!” said Ragetti.

            “On my word, do as I say, or I’ll pull this trigger and be lost to Davy Jones’s locker!” said Will.

            “Name your terms, Mr. Turner,” said Barbossa sullenly.

            “(Y/N) and Elizabeth go free,” said Will.

            “Yes, we know that one. Anything else?” said Barbossa, rolling his eyes.

            Jack gestured to himself.

            “And the crew. The crew are not to be harmed,” said Will.

            That’s Will, always trying to do the right thing, thought (Y/N).

            “Agreed!” spat Barbossa.

            (Y/N) knew in their heart that Barbossa was going to fuck them over in some way.

l

            Sure enough, as soon as they had found themselves near shoals once more, Barbossa men had grabbed (Y/N) and pulled them towards the plank. They thrashed against the men, but they were shoved towards the edge, and sharpened cutlasses prevented them from going back as they fought to keep their balance.

            “Stop it! Let them go!” cried Elizabeth.

            “Don’t worry, poppet, your turn is next,” said Barbossa.

            “Barbossa, you lying bastard!” shouted Will, trying to run forward. Pirates held him back. “You swore they’d go free!”

            “Don’t dare impugn me honor, boy!” snapped Barbossa. “I agreed they’d go free, but it was you who failed to specify when or where!”

            Will was gagged and pushed back to the other crewmembers.

            “Now, I would apologize, laddie, but if you follow pirates around, you gotta reap the consequences,” said Barbossa to (Y/N).

            “I hope your curse gets broken so someone can shoot you,” spat (Y/N).

            Barbossa let out a barking laugh. “Look at that, the civilized one has a tongue! A pity we’ll never hear it again.”

            Cutlasses poked towards (Y/N), and they backed up farther. They narrowed their eyes and glared at Barbossa. If they somehow survived this, they were going to make sure no one tricked them again. (Y/N) would not be a defenseless child.

            They turned and faced the sea. They took a deep breath. They jumped.

            (Y/N) fell below the waves, and as the water drowned the sounds of the pirates above, (Y/N) could close their eyes and push out all their fears and troubles before they faced their oncoming death. For just a second, (Y/N) floated, at peace.

Taglist:

@slytherinroyalty16

@aew-kun-age-regression

@grippleback-galaxy

@andsoigotabutterfly

@insomniacneedssleep

@painstakingly-juno

@kitkatlover015

@chronicallybubbly

@froggyisfriend

@elliottheidiot2007

@paastaboi

@urlocalsabito

@speckle-meow-meow

@dmitrytherat

@vanessa-boo

@ohimjustagirlidrathetnotbe

[ltwilliammowett]

Naval Slang

Here is a small collection of slang that is just too short for its own posts.

Anchor or to get one's ass to an- to sit down.

Ant' bollock on the beach - something is extremely hard to locate.

At loose ends - there is little to do. The ends of ropes at sea were easily untangled and formed loose ends. So if there was little to do, the captain could instruct the crew to check the ropes for loose ends and repair them.

Beam ends - When the ship is almost at the beam ends, it means that it is capsizing and in danger of sinking, with the deck beams almost perpendicular to the sea surface. Today it means - to be in a hopeless situation.

Bite the bullet - Men who were flogged with the lovely cat were often given a piece of leather and later a bullet to bite on so they would stop screaming in pain. If he did, he was scornfully called a nightingale.

Boom and Mizzen- Cockney rhyming slang for prison.

Brace of Shakes - I'll be with you in a brace of shakes, literally means I'll be with you before the sail has time to shake twice, in other words I'll be with you almost immediately.

Bread hook - finger

Colours tied to the mast - Give up ? Forget it, this one will be fought to the bitter end.

Cranky- She's hard to sail and unstable. The modern version means awkward, eccentric or hard to understand - often used in connection with women.

Deck Cargo - Breasts

(I'm going to) deck (you) - I'll punch you so hard in the face that you'll see the deck up close. But since such acts were forbidden at sea, they waited until the opponents were in port and could settle it there.

Donkey Wallopers - Royal Navy slang for members of mounted cavalry regiments.

Don't spoil the Ship for a ha'porth of tar - To half-finish a job by not filling the planks properly with hot tar when lapping. Ships will leak if too little tar is applied, so a little extra effort is well worth it.

Goose without gravy - a flogging without blood.

Grass combers - seamen with an agricultural background.

Hit the deck - When a swivel gun or cannon was to be fired at close range, sailors would dive onto the deck to avoid being hit.

[novankenn]

"Killer Rabbit"

Jaune was running full tilt, his great rear legs propelling him through the forest at break neck speed. Behind him could be the howls of the small pack of beowulf that had been trying to run him down for the last ten minutes.

HIs body told him to flee, and so he did. Putting every ounce of strength he had into continuously moving forward in an attempt to evade the pursuit. Weaving about trees and easily clearing fallen logs, he continued his headlong rush towards safety... any safety.

When the alpha beowulf appeared before him, Jaune's heart was beating so hard he felt as it it was going to explode inside his chest. Even in his panicked state he knew if he could get around the monstrosity before him, he would be able to get to safety.

It stalked forward, great jaws opened and dripping with slobber. In the distance he could hear the rest of the pack closing, upon him. With no time to waste, Jaune charged. Sensing the challenge to it's authority the alpha rose to it's hind legs just as Jaune launched himself into the air.

Several hundred pounds of flesh and fur sailed through the air, and as the fell beast made a grab for him, Jaune gave a reflexive kick. Landing harder than he wanted, Jaune didn't even pause as he tore off into the undergrowth.

Never once did he look back, he didn't see the alpha teetering on its legs, it's head hanging at a weird angle. It'd snout and jaws crushed. He hadn't heard the snapping of bones when his kick landed.

When the rest of the pack arrived the alpha had mostly evaporated away, and without it's guidance the pack disbanded. Each of the vicious beasts wandering off in a different direction.

(A/N: Sorry I couldn't resist a Jaune is accidently insanely deadly as Jaunper.)

IF you want to see more of the Hares Breadth Au... hit up @pilot-boi as this was her creation and I was only inspired to do something because of it. Do not consider this "cannon" to that AU.

[fleshwerks]

yeeeeah, what monster would sacrifice like 10 mercenaries boat. fully manned and carrying around 200 people, and a shit ton of gunpowder and the cannon technology to use it and use it well. for an alliance of necessity with thedas' single most technologically advanced nation that's even giving the Tevene magocracy pause.

sure, we later learned that they were gonna betray you anyway, or at least one qunari faction was. but when the sky's split open, sure. save 10 randos who couldn't even get their job done properly, and fuck those 100 other souls, their war boat and all that firepower and someone in the north who can coordinate keeping tevene cultists in check where your southern ass can't reach.

it could'we worked if the inquisitor had the option to investigate beforehand, why the hell is a fully manned, large, explosive qunari ship, just one ship pulling up without a lighter escort fleet at the shore of a sea that they KNOW is infested with lighter, faster Venatori ships manned with fireball-slinging war mages (they're literally in Ferelden BECAUSE that massive, unwieldy oarship is chasing a troublesome, light Venatori smuggling ship lol, you're never gonna catch it with that behemoth of a dreadnought that evidently operates solely with oarsmen, no sail or mast in sight). That why does this massive and easily explodable gunship even pulling up at the shore when it should be sitting well out of the shore's reach while the qunari disembark in boats, allowing the ship to remain mobile and protected by its small support fleet that didn't apparently exist.

You could've done some real spy shit there, use Bull to truly suss out what the hell is going on with that house on oars showing up unprotected at a hostile shore. Instead you get an 'uhh idk, [bull disapproves the inquisitor being suspicious]' from him while his incompetent crew misses a spot check and now three (or was it four lel) fire mages lazily saunter down the shore without a worry in the world, fling three fireballs and the dreadnought while it sits there like a useless lump of kindling.

You could have had so much fun with that investigation, because for a people like the Qunari nation, the whole situation could've been set up as a win-win. They win the alliance, see what the Inquisition is made of, and secure their errant Southern spy's loyalty, or they figure out that the Inquisition is not reliable as an ally, is a threat to the Qunari ambitions (because it won't even sacrifice 10 mercs for a major alliance), and Iron Bull is outed as, if not a traitor, then at least a burned and useless asset. There really wasn't a situation there where the Qunari would lose, and it would've been wildly satisfying to try and figure out both before and after the loyalty quest that the Qunari tried to play you, and you can finally say it with satisfaction: 'and screw you and your 🛥 ⛴, we ain't regretting nuthin, we know what you're about.' Because on the surface, qunari and inquisition goals align at that point, and an alliance against Tevinter, where much of the ongoing threat originates, is very useful for the inquisition, especially since it means that out of two potential enemies, one enemy can at least be brought over to your side temporarily and be sicced on the other enemy.

But naw. It all boiled down to 'oop, can't have my mercenaries do what they were hired to do lol, because that'd be sad. Not like they didn't know what they were getting into when they became, idk, mercenaries?