#she was never a captain who felt the need to impress her crew with how she dressed. She had their genuine respect.

[morrigan-sims]

Neither of these are new, but take some outtakes of two of my pirate captains!

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

Can I ask for Headcanons/Scenario with the crew members where it's a normal tulpar haul. But the reader is an extremely experienced captain of another ship,and they're older,more built and more strict. Like think 6'7,built like an extreme weightlifter,very classy and formal.

And they're on the tulpar to look after everything because it's an incredibly important shipment? What would the crew members reactions be to the reader appearing very strict,no-nonsense,cold and condescending. But once they get close, the reader is actually very nice.

also can it be a male reader? Thank you! I love your writing. <3

Melting the Ice away.

Crew Members x Male! Older! Strict! Reader. [ Reader is a high ranking captain of another pony express ship ]

a/n; this ask was basically buried deep in my inbox,i was just scrolling through and found it.

Tulpar! Captain,Curly.

Oh boy,and they used to say that curly was the most able employee at pony express. Clearly they lied,Cause LOOK. AT. YOU.

For the first time in his career,he felt intimidated.

The way you basically hovered over him,gave him chills ngl.

He admires you so fucking hard, your efficiency ,your capability, and your experienced nature. you need something? Grant Curly is on it!... He found himself trying to... Impress you???

He was basically always looking for your approval at things,no matter how small or trivial it was. He needed your opinion.

He was also starting to wonder wether or not the feeling of intimidation... was rather something else.

He is definitely feelin a lil somethin somethin.

When he actually got to know you,and saw how kind and sweet you actually were. This guy just fell,he fell guys,he just fell.

Co-Pilot, Jimmy.

Manz is PISSED.

He is freaking LIVID,as if Curly wasn't already enough,bossing him around.

He'll never ever admit it to anyone,but he was basically scared of you,of how... Domineering you were.

He is jealous of how put together you were,always effortlessly classy.

He couldn't decide whether he wanted to be you,or wanted to be with you.

He didn't even notice it,but you found him staring,so intently that it actually concerned you.

Whenever you would try to interact with him he'll make up an excuse and run away.

But he,too wanted to get on your good side.

He'll die before ever admitting it,but he was craving your praise so fucking bad.

He is just dying on the inside,he desperately wants to hear you call him a 'Good Boy'.

Maybe he'll have to impress you some other way,who knows?

Nurse, Anya.

Let's be fr,the first time Anya saw you,her heart skipped a bit. I mean c'mon! Can you blame her? She doesn't see handsome, capable, disciplined male colleagues on the regular,does she?

Cut her some slack for staring! She can't help herself for wanting to admire you!

Like the others,she also tries her best to live up to your expectations,to be on your good list. She tries to make sure all your needs are met,(which aren't even bothersome,you prefer to do things your own anyway) but she always insists upon helping you out!

You began to notice that no matter who else wasn't around,Anya was always there in the corner of your eye. Was she... Following you around?

By Gods,she can't help it! No other person on the ship is as pleasant to be around as you! She feels at ease when she's with you. And you don't mind.

When she finally gets to know the real you, the butterflies in her stomach settle down into something even more soothing and calming.

Her puppy crush is beginning to grow,maybe someday in the near future, she'll ask you for things, beyond the professional limit.

Mechanic, Swansea.

He is just glad that there is someone on this godforsaken ship who has the screws in their head straight.

He does feel a bit relaxed that he doesn't have to worry about things going wrong with you onboard.

He sometimes has you deal with Daisuke instead. More relaxation time for him.

He can count on you. And he likes you the best on the ship.

Doesn't shy away from praising you in front of others.

Intern,Daisuke.

"WOWZER MISTER YOU'RE SO COOL!".

He was a bit scared of you at first,but quickly warmed up to how refreshing you were.

You were strict,yes. But not as much as Swansea. You never scolded him,or complained about him to others.

Instead you always, efficiently taught him how to do things properly.

The way you spoke,the way you presented yourself. He didn't find it strange how his other, older, colleagues were swooning over you either.

Grew to like you the best on the ship as well,always right by your side.

He does think you're hot,but is intimidated pretty easily.

[perseephoneee]

christmas tree farm [ficmas day 6] [james t. kirk x f!reader]

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ ficmas 2024

author's note: dedicated to my irl former roommate/current bestie @muffinbeliever who has a kirk shrine. also i wrote this sleep deprived and jetlagged, i wont apologize for its shittiness

playlist:

christmas tree farm -- taylor swift

intergalactic -- beastie boys

last christmas -- lucy dacus

“I didn’t know Iowa had Christmas tree farms,” you said, spooning more food into your mouth. The holidays were around the corner, and people’s conversations about their plans punctuated lunch on the Enterprise. Your Captain was currently regaling stories of Christmas in the Midwest.

“We have amazing Christmas trees,” Jim replied.

Bones coughed.

“Something wrong, Bones?” Jim sighed, turning to look at his friend. 

“I think you’re full of shit,” Bones nodded, earning a frown from Jim. You finished the rest of your food, standing up with your tray.

“I’m going to go before you two start attacking each other,” you grimaced. 

“That only happened once!” Jim called out as you walked away, shaking your head.

Business on the Enterprise had slowed down in preparation for the number of away trips. Work in the medbay was almost entirely administrative, which was boring but at least left you stress-free. Your work was interrupted by your friend, Leah.

“Heard you had lunch with the Captain and McCoy,” she cooed. “Do tell me how you swung that?”

“My feminine wiles,” you deadpanned, not looking away from your screen. She spun your chair around to face her.

“Give me the details! Is Jim bringing home anyone this holiday?”

“He never brings anyone, you know that,” you drawled, crossing your legs. Leah glowered.

“He brings people.”

“Not home. Not to Iowa,” you responded. Every woman (and man) alive on the Enterprise had a crush on Captain Kirk, so you weren’t surprised by this line of questioning. More mildly perturbed. You were one of the few to be able to say that you have actually talked to Kirk. Saying you were friends felt weird, but you weren’t just another face on his starship. You doubt he’d remember your face if you weren’t McCoy’s second. 

Leah continued asking you questions about Kirk until it became evident you had no answers. 

You were used to it. Many of the crew asked questions. 

There was a time when you were enamored with James T. Kirk, but it only lasted a minute. You were fresh on the crew with your college roommate, starry-eyed and excited to be assigned to the Enterprise. Kirk was greeting everyone and spending ample time with the ladies until his eyes passed right over to flirt with your college roommate. You got a handshake that was equivalent to a brush-off. 

You don’t even think Jim remembers that day because weeks later, you’re patching him up and striking up a conversation. The first impression is already there, though, along with the misplaced attraction. Now, you’re in a tumultuous friendship with a man everyone else wants to sleep with. You didn’t expect so much drama when joining the Enterprise. 

Work shouldn’t have taken as long as it did, but having backlogs upon backlogs of medical reports meant you were the last one in Medbay. You had turned on some music while you worked and were debating to see if Scotty was up and wanted to share a drink with you. He always had the best alcohol and got fed up with drama as much as you did. Most of the lights were off; you didn’t see the need for them at this point. You could hear the doors open as someone entered. 

“So, this is how you’re spending your evenings,” Jim remarks, pulling up a chair next to you. 

You turn to look at him. 

“I’m doing work.”

“Bones should do it.”

“Doctor McCoy is terrible with paperwork. He’d screw it up almost immediately,” you replied, giving a quick smile and returning to your document. Jim fiddled his thumbs. You looked up again.

“Captain, can I help you with something?”

“Whatcha doing this Christmas, lieutenant?” he inquired, spinning around. His restless energy was making you anxious. 

“Probably just going to find a hotel and drink; why?”

“Come with me to Iowa.”

Your brain shortcircuited at his request. Jim Kirk, notorious for inviting women to various away trips for quick hookups, never asked anyone to his home. The only people that have been were Spock and Leonard, but they were his best friends. You didn’t think you were his best friend. 

“Why?” you questioned, voice small. 

“Because I want to. I can’t invite my friends to spend Christmas together?” Kirk chuckled at that but then caught on to the seriousness of your expression. “We are friends, right?”

“Yes,” you responded, but not very confidently. He narrowed his eyes. 

“I don’t play strip poker with just anyone.”

“You and Leonard played strip poker. I played normal poker and watched you two drunk bafoons make a fool of yourself.” Your lips quirked up at that memory. Spock came in at some point to request Jim’s assistance, only to find him half-naked and stuck in his uniform on the ground. You neglected to help him in favor of watching him struggle. Spock left immediately, muttering to himself. 

“C’mon, it’ll be fun. I’ll show you an authentic Iowa Christmas tree farm,” Jim grabbed the arm of your chair, swiveling you towards him. Your knees touched, and you wanted to pull away. 

“Fine, I’ll go with you to your fake ass Christmas farm,” you smiled, watching as a grin lit up Jim’s face.

It was hard to finish the rest of your work, as he kept annoying you throughout the night, but eventually, you pulled through. Jim walked you back to your room, and you bid him adieu before closing the door. You let yourself fall back against the door surface, sinking to the ground, wondering what you had gotten yourself into. 

Iowa came sooner than you thought. 

Leonard would join you both for Christmas dinner, as Kirk’s mom had been asking about him, and Leonard had nothing else to do. You had never been to Iowa, really any of rural America, and wandered off the starship to the sight of miles of fields. Jim was waiting by a motorcycle. 

“I’m not taking that death trap with you,” you said earnestly. He handed you a helmet anyway. 

“It’ll be fun.”

“Say that at my funeral, I dare you,” you grimaced. There was a small box for you to put your bags in, so you said goodbye to your belongings and boarded the bike. Your cheeks heated up as you realized that you’d have to be hugging Kirk the whole ride. All embarrassment left your body the second that he started driving, though, as instead, you opted to hide your face in his jacket and try not to cry. He laughed at your expense. You debated the merits of killing him but then realized you’d be stuck with Spock as your Captain. 

You pull up to Kirk’s home, your stiff arms reluctantly leaving his side so you can disembark. You blinked in surprise. 

“You didn’t mention that you live on a Christmas tree farm.”

“It was something my Mom picked up with her boyfriend,” Jim shrugged, taking his helmet off and ruffling his hair. “Pays the bills.”

“Did you work here?”

“I’m an excellent tree salesman, I’ll have you know,” Jim grins, and you decide not to test him on that. 

You don’t know what you expected Jim Kirk’s childhood home to look like, but when you do see it, it fits. It’s chic with enough unique knick-knacks to add personality. The amount of childhood Kirk photos makes you giggle.

Winona Kirk is a force to be reckoned with, you soon discover. Her eyes are the same as Jim’s, and her embrace is strong. You needed to come up for oxygen after the fact. She treats you both to rosemary chicken with scalloped potatoes. You drink a heavy amount of wine while Jim searches for a beer. The night is fairly peaceful.

You grew up in a city where the skies were covered in pollution. Stars were not a commodity. Out in the middle of Iowa, you could catch all the stars. After dinner, you make it a point to sit out on the Kirk’s porch. You have a blanket wrapped around you to stave off the cold, the Christmas trees merely a backdrop to the night sky. Your breath comes out in puffs. Jim joins you a bit later.

“My Mom seems to like you,” he notes, offering you a beer that you take gladly.

“Your Mom is epic,” you smile, taking a sip. A question has been sitting on your tongue since you arrived. “Why did you bring me here?”

“I told you already.”

“No,” you say softly. “You didn’t.”

Jim laughs, but it’s empty. It’s the laugh you give when you’ve been caught red-handed. The sky makes his eyes look like one of the constellations.

“I’m not good with women,” he remarks, and your brows shoot up. You want to call bullshit. “Not in the way it matters.”

“How does it matter?” You whisper. You don’t want to imagine what he means. He looks out toward the tree farm. 

“When people come to get a tree, they walk by a bunch of perfectly good ones.” Jim avoids eye contact with you. “Families will walk away from so many quality trees because it isn’t the right one. But when they see it, they know— it’s the tree for them. The only one they want in their home.” The silence stretches between you two. 

“You think I don’t see you, but I do; I always have,” Jim finally looks at you, and you can’t help but melt. “That’s why I invited you.” 

“I thought you were going to tell me I was the right tree for you,” you gulp, and Jim lets out a laugh. You smile because you see him, too, you always have.

“You’re a nice tree,” Jim chuckles.

“Thanks, I’ve been working hard on it.”

He moves closer to you, and you open up your blanket to let him in. You wrap around each other in a safe cocoon, the smell of pine and fresh air invading your senses. You fall asleep with your head on his shoulder and his arms wrapped around you, and you think you could stay like that forever. 

[heliads]

can you make a nikolai lantsov x reader?? i've been thinking about one where reader was one of sturmhond's crew as a tidemaker and they were together for a long time, but when nikolai became king, the two separated because royalty had done too much harm to r family and she didn't want to become one of them (besides her being Grisha). maybe after RoW they finally talk and get back together??

yesss pirate!reader x nikolai my beloved

masterlist

If Nikolai Lantsov were to regret anything in his life, anything at all, it would be how he handled her. It’s not that he regrets her, he wants to make that clear. He couldn’t if he tried, and Nikolai has tried many times to get over her, to find some flaw out of an improbability of perfection so he might not feel as achingly heartbroken as he always does.

But when Nikolai lies awake at night, unable to sleep despite a gilded bedroom and dozens of lush pillows and luxurious blankets, the worries troubling his mind are not of a country to run, nor the endless cycles of politics constantly reinventing new problems to crush his world beneath his boot. No, he thinks of one woman. He thinks of you.

Before Nikolai was the latest Lantsov king, before he was a homeward bound prince, he was a boy, and a boy who wanted to run. A much younger Nikolai in body and spirit had signed onto a pirate ship the second his guards turned their backs. It was a terrible decision for a golden prince to make, but the best choice for the bastard who never wanted to see another silver spoon again unless he was stealing it.

When Nikolai was a young man, he determined that he would be the captain of a ship, and a captain always needs a crew he can depend on to carry him through thick and thin. Nikolai sailed to countless foreign shores, finding friends and enemies in oceans sapphire and stormy, cerulean and calm. He wore dashing waistcoats and ruined them with the blood of slashed throats. He blockaded and benefitted small towns with equal joy.

And, most importantly of all, Nikolai found his first mate. It is a difficult thing, of course, choosing someone who could be your successor. If he picked someone a little too captivating, he ran the risk that they could depose him in a mutiny. If he gave that spot to someone the crew hated, though, his leadership would be undermined all the same.

He was just starting to think it would be impossible to find the right sort of figure, and then this young woman he’d never met before had simply walked up and asked for it. Technically, it wasn’t such an easy meeting as that. She had actually stolen one of the rowboats off of his ship while it was tied to their ship in the harbor with her abilities as a Tidemaker, then used the water to ferry her over to him.

From anyone else, Sturmhond would consider that a punishable offense. However, the privateer in him was also a politician, and one used to fronts and facades at that. Nikolai looked at the woman in front of him and realized that she wasn’t looking to use him as an avenue for a coup to captainship. She’d done her research and figured out that he was the best captain to serve under, and was simply ensuring that she made a good impression.

There is nothing Nikolai can appreciate like a fine display of showmanship, so he’d accepted her acceptance of his non-offer and told her to move her belongings into the first mate’s cabin that night. The crew woke up to a new member, and they took to her as readily as Nikolai himself.

After that, it was easy. Nikolai skimmed over frothy waves and he had someone by his side, a proper companion. He has liked his crew heartily all this time, but Y/N– he likes Y/N even more. Saints, he loves her. It takes him a while to realize that, but he does. Once that knowledge is common to him, the fact that he could have felt anything else is nothing short of absurd.

He’d given her his name a long time ago. Part of it, at least. They’d been on night guard together one shadowy twilight and she’d begged him for some sort of name she could use. Sturmhond, although great for inspiring fear and leadership as he saw fit, wasn’t personal enough for a friend, and Captain was too formal. Nikolai had witnessed many years of his father forcing everyone to refer to him as the king and nothing more. Never will he force a title on anyone.

So he’d said Nik, she could call him Nik, and that was more than good enough. It feels like cheating, a little, to have her bypass his real name and go straight to the familiar nickname. If anyone could do it, though, it would be her. Captains aren’t supposed to have favorites among their crew, but this is Y/N, and he loves her, so she calls him Nik, and he– he lets it happen.

All this truth, this love, and he never told her who he was. Not by choice. How could he? Y/N hated the monarchy, and so did he. The elder Lantsovs did not treat Grisha kindly, only tolerating them in the confines of the Little Palace. There was nothing Nikolai could do to protect them, to protect her, half as well in Os Alta as he could as Sturmhond, so he kept it a secret.

You could call that selfishness. You would be correct in doing so. Nikolai did not tell Y/N he was a prince because he was terrified of how she would push him away. In the end, there was nothing he could do to avoid that. The Darkling called on his help in capturing Alina Starkov, and Nikolai revealed that last ace in his sleeve the night before he was to dock in Ravka and personally escort the Sun Saint and her friends back to Os Alta.

He will never forget how Y/N had looked at him when she finally learned what he was, not as long as he shall live. He had asked her to come to his office, to lock the door so no one could hear. Y/N has been host to a great many of his secrets, good and bad and terrible, so she thought she could handle just one more.

She was wrong. Nikolai stood before her, and said, “I am the son of the king.”

She’d laughed, actually, but that had dried up when she realized he wasn’t joking. “No. You can’t be serious. All this time we’ve been out here, and you haven’t told me? You would have told me.”

Her eyes were desperate, pleading. Y/N L/N is one of the finest pirates Nikolai ever had the pleasure of meeting. He’s seen her go into no-luck gunfights with a grin on her face, and now she looks like all of her luck has finally run out. How awful, that he would be the one to finally crush her spirit underfoot.

“I knew you wouldn’t like it,” he tries to explain.

Y/N shakes her head. “No. I don’t like it when Tolya borrows my knives to slice fruit. I don’t like it when we stay in small towns too long. Nik, it’s not that I don’t like it that you’re a royal. It’s that you’ve betrayed me. You know how the Lantsov kings have treated Grisha, how they’ve treated anyone who isn’t an elite.”

It occurs to Nikolai that this might be how he loses her, in truth. “Y/N, please. We can change everything. Why do you think I came out here in the first place? I want to help Ravka. I want to help my people. Just come with me. We can do it together.”

She waves her hand dismissively. “No. I don’t want to be one of them.”

Not like he is, at least. Nikolai is endlessly, ineffably them, but she doesn’t have to be. She’s safe from them. From him. “Y/N. I love you, and I want you with me. Please, come to Os Alta with me.”

She turns to him abruptly, eyes violent. “No. That’s final, Nik.”

Ah. So it ends. And so Nikolai had gone to bed alone, heart a bitter mess of hurt, and he had disembarked from his ship with Alina and Mal and the rest. He had taken them to Os Alta, he had reclaimed his position on the throne, and all the while, he knew that he would never want anything in the world half as strongly as he just wanted her. 

It’s funny, isn’t it? Nikolai is a king now, and despite all his reach and power, the one thing he desires most will never be in his grasp again. She will always be the sea’s, and, as of late, that means she will never be Nikolai’s. Nikolai is chained to the crown; he will never leave it, he can never leave it. Y/N will be out there on the storm-tossed waves forever, as wild as the night he met her, and that will cause him grief until the day that he dies.

Nikolai grows up and it gets no better. He watches friends lose themselves to war and misery. He wears the crown upon his head, and then, surrounded by the clamoring voices of those who wanted him gone, he relinquishes it. Nikolai had tried to do his best while he was in office, but, walking back from the meeting with a strangely light feeling upon his head and shoulders where a great burden no longer rests, he wonders if it had ever been enough.

No one can ever be enough for Ravka. This he has known since he was a child. He had tried, though. The trying should at least get him somewhere. Nikolai passes blind laps around the Great Palace, attempting to remember every garden and room before he leaves it. He’ll have to pack his bags at some point, move out and find somewhere else to call a home after so many years in this one place.

Zoya has already offered for him to stay here, albeit in a different room. He’s a valuable advisor thanks to all his years on the throne, and he’s still as good a diplomat as ever. Nikolai will probably take her up on it; he wants to help Ravka, and this seems like the best way to do it.

About a week later, Zoya knocks on the door of his new rooms before letting herself inside when he invites her in. She’s taking to her new royal title very well, even if this seems to include her stealing his tea far more times than is strictly proper. 

This time, though, she isn’t here to stop and talk. Instead, Zoya hovers hesitantly at his door, and says, “There’s someone here to see you.”

Nikolai arches a brow. “I didn’t realize relinquishing my crown meant I got to have the Dragon Queen herself here to announce my visitors. Will you do this every time?”

Zoya laughs sarcastically, but her voice is still stilted when she adds on, “Just this time. She says she knows you. She was on your crew. First mate.”

Nikolai swears his heart stops in his chest. This is– no, it couldn’t be. He told Zoya about Y/N a long time ago. She’d asked why he hadn’t been more invested in finding a suitor and he’d admitted that he was pushing it off for as long as possible, knowing he couldn’t love unless it was her.

He nods a little frantically. “Alright. Where is she?”

“Here,” says a voice behind Zoya, and then the queen of Ravka is disappearing back down the hall and Nikolai is alone in a room with someone else and– and it’s Y/N, Y/N after so long, and he doesn’t really know how to think straight, let alone say anything at all.

She pauses over the threshold before finally going inside and shutting the door behind you. “I suppose I should be glad you’re speechless. Shows you still care, at least.”

“Of course I do,” Nikolai chokes out. “But– you do too? You’re here.”

She inclines her head, taking a seat on the chair opposite him. “I came as soon as I heard that you would no longer be king. I thought it would be hard. To lose this one last thing from your family.”

Nikolai frowns. “You hate my family.”

“I don’t hate you,” she says simply, “and even if they treated you harshly, they were still your blood. That means more than any of us want to admit, I think.”

Nikolai sighs. “You’ve always been the wise one, Y/N.”

She smiles at that. “Isn’t that why you hired me, Nik?”

The nickname again. His heart contracts painfully in his chest. “I should have told you,” he blurts out. “I should have told you everything.”

“I knew a lot,” she replies, “Enough to love you. I’m glad for every moment. There would have been fewer if you had told me sooner.”

Nikolai grimaces at the truth in that. “So you’re alright with me being a Lantsov now?”

She furrows her brow. “I heard some whispers that you aren’t entirely a Lantsov at all.”

He can’t really argue with that. “Who am I, then?”

“You’re Nik,” she tells him, “My Nik. My captain. And yes, my king, even if you’ve given over the throne. I always kept track of what you were doing during your reign. I was always proud of you.”

A bright burst of pride flares in his chest. “What do you advise I do now, if my reign is over?”

She stands, extends a hand to him. “We could always go back to a good time. The sea only gets bigger.”

Nikolai looks up at her, and he thinks– this is what he’s missed. Nikolai makes a fine king, but he has always missed adventure. He’ll have that now. And, when they both get old and tired, they can come back here, and continue making policies now that they’ve lived the lives of both the rich and the outlaw. It sounds wonderful to Nikolai.

He takes her hand. “Shall we go, then?”

She smiles. Radiant. He loves her just as much as he did at the start. “I think we shall.”

grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000, @baju69, @crazyhearttragedy, @budugu, @aoi-targaryen

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hi its me! Cupcake berserker reader anon!

Can we get readee during the whole cake arc since she's rather new to the crew big mom isnt fully aware of who she is.

Reader tries to sneak around the island trying to find sanji and she bumps into general katakuri. She knows hes the enemy but she cant help but be amazed by him.

Hijinxs ensue as reader accidentally impress big mom and her family starts to adore reader

At the end I really want her to comfort and violently head butt sanji when he yells at luffy when judge leaves. Ive always wanted to do that she could say something along the lines of " I'm the dumbest person I know sanji but right now your the dumb one! You say that you hate everything about your heartless brothers yet you're allowing your shitty daddy get to you?! Hes right! Youre nothing that he planned but those are the parts are what I love you big dummy!!!" She would head butt him a few more times to get the message across.

I also think she would be really cold to nami after that one scene when sanji and the strawhats reunite. Think of the coldness of marika from " chilling in my 30s" if you dont know her you can get a clip of her on youtube!

I hope this is alright!

-It was supposed to be an easy mission, get to Whole Cake Island, find Sanji, then meet up with the rest of the crew in Wano!

-However, with your captain being Luffy, nothing ever goes to plan. You knew this well, but when you found yourself alone, apart from Nami and Luffy and now staring up at one of the Charlotte Family’s Sweet Commanders, Katakuri.

-He didn’t know what to make of you when you literally ran into him and almost took him off his feet, despite not even reaching his knees.

-He felt a pull towards you, you were so strong, but so soft and delicate looking, choosing to ignore the battle axe you were dragging behind you, wearing a cute, fluffy dress and looking just downright adorable!!

-Big Mom didn’t know what to make of you when her son brought you to her, she knew that you were a part of the Straw Hat Crew, much like Judge’s son who was due to marry Pudding soon, but she didn’t know much about you, since you were new to Luffy’s crew.

However, you looked so adorable! You didn’t look like a pirate at all! How could someone as dainty and adorable looking as you be a pirate?!

-However, Big Mom shocked everyone, as Katakuri had never shown any interest in women before, “You should marry Katakuri!!”

-Katakuri wasn’t against it, actually happy, but he wasn’t showing it, but you were polite in your refusal, “I apologize, but I’m not looking to marry anyone right now.” Many were surprised of your refusal, as most would never think to, but this showed how naïve you were, you needed to be protected!!

-However, when Katakuri went to grab you, you showed off your skills, showing why you were in Luffy’s crew as you easily knocked Katakuri back, using the blunt edge of your axe, showing your strength and unfortunately getting a lot of attention on you.

-Big Mom and Katakuri both were impressed with your raw strength, Big Mom knew that any children you had, especially with Katakuri, were going to be insanely powerful!!

-An hour later you were finally reunited with your crew, including Sanji, and you cheerfully called out to him, “Sanji!!” his brothers saw you and you instantly took all four of them off their feet.

-You held your hand over your lips, “Ah~? There’s four of you?” Nami and Luffy were both yelling at Sanji as you noticed a larger man walking away and Sanji sneered down at them, telling them all to leave.

-You knew this was just a front, as Sanji would never talk to Nami like that, and he had way more respect for Luffy than to talk to him like that.

-You glared hard as you leapt up, leaving your axe by Nami, “You big- DUMMY!!” as you shouted your head came down hard on his own head, head-butting him and sending him to the ground hard.

-His brothers were in shock, as you didn’t look like a fighter as you shouted down at Sanji, hands on your hips, “You’re going to let him get to you even though you can’t stand a thing about them? You big dummy! Nobody is going to be perfect- those imperfections are what I love about you- what we all love about you- except maybe Zoro.”

-You calmed down towards the end of your little rant, losing steam as he stared up at you in shock from his spot on the ground.

-Sanji then flew back, blood spurting front him nose as he got an eyeful as you turned, hearing Luffy call out your name and saw your panties and you turned, rushing over, “Sanji- are you okay?!”

-You didn’t see what hurt him, not realizing what he had seen, as his brothers were surrounded by flames of rage as you held him up, resting his head against your chest, unintentionally making things worse as Sanji felt like he could die happy.

-Nami held her hand to her face, shaking her head, a bit exasperated, but she knew that you got through to Sanji more, but that didn’t mean he was off the hook!!

-Once you were all sailing away to Wano, Sanji waited on you and Nami hand and foot, trying to appease you both, as he knew you were both upset with him.

-Nami was pettier than you were, trying to drag it out, while you were showering him with love and attention, so he would never want to leave ever again.

-He didn’t, especially if he might get to have a glimpse of heaven again, but nobody else needed to know that.

[monimccoythings]

Arlong x Human!reader: Parenthood Part 1

This will be angstier on the relationship part at the beginning because of reader's perspective but eventually will have a bit happier ending, or at least a more hopeful one. This will include the timeskip in the manga and the anime. RIP to my old style of writing, I'm gonna miss the bulleted list because it was easier for me to write and read, but the fuckers who updated this website only allow a maximum of 4096 chatacters.

If anyone had asked you if you regretted where you were now, you would have said no, but that there were things that could have been handled better. Let's get started on how you got into this mess in the first place.

You were just a rookie revolutionary that were on a mission to free some fishmen slaves in the East Blue. As you patiently helped them get out of their cages (some of them were very suspicious to having a human help them) some of the guards decided to attack, surrounding you all. You were not going to just stand there and go down without a fight, if you could buy some time for the slaves to escape you would gladly sacrifice yourself.

You just weren't expecting to find some fishmen band over there as well. They just came out of nowhere, still, their appearence wasn't unwelcome. Soon, you were fighting alongside them in perfect synchronization, as if you had been doing it your entire lives.

Their captain, Arlong, seemed quite impressed with your skills and your knowledge about the main slave camps of the East Blue. When he offered you a teamup, you hesitated, you barely knew him and weren't planning on staying much in this sea. Nevertheless, there were still slaves that needed to be freed and you were lacking in the muscle department, maybe working together wasn't such a bad idea.

Honestly, the fact that his secret base was so in the open was something you didn't see coming. As a member of the revolutionaries, your life was always on the move, from one secret hidden place to the other. Having such an open area and throwing parties every now and then was wild, but a refreshing change.

The place was nice, it was like being in a tropical hotel, they even had a saltwater pool for the fishmen to swim in. The presence of the entirely male fishmen crew wasn't a bother at all, most of them just kept to themselves and let you work in your next mission. There was only another human woman on the entire place, her name was Nami. She had barely spoken two sentences to you and they weren't very nice, she didn't seem the friendly type. Although there were times were you catch her staring like she wanted to tell you something but always stopped herself. Arlong told you to not mind her, she just didn't like outsiders.

Speaking of Arlong. There was something about that fishman that drew you to him. He was charming, he was flirty and he was passionate about the liberation of fishmen. With each mission successfully completed you two became closer, and one night during a party at Arlong Park... well...

But fairytales weren't meant to last forever. Everything came crushing down. Not so long after that, Arlong started showing his true colors, you began to see how ruthless he could be, how dismissive of you he became after he had tasted you. Nami was right, you had just been just a tool to him, so he could recruit more fishmen into his army.

You felt dirty, you felt used, and you felt heartbroken. You had helped someone who could be potentially as bad as the World Government. And all for what? Seven minutes in heaven? You didn't know at that time, but you felt that you should have known better. He was never interested in you at all, not the way you had been interested in him.

So you ran, as soon as you saw your chance you ran without looking back. You didn't know if they were going to give chase, but as long as you kept moving, you wouldn't need to worry.

Some time later, word got to you that someone had finally beaten Arlong and destroyed Arlong Park. You felt sick to your stomach when you heard about all the atrocities he had comitted, specially to that poor village near Arlong Park. At least that night you were able too sleep peacefully knowing he and his crew had been imprisoned by the Marines, as much as you despised them.

But your problems were far from over.

Turns out that sick feeling didn't go away the next morning, or the following, or the one after that. It didn't disappear, unlike your period, that magically vanished. And as the town's doctor confirmed you, it wouldn't go away for quite some time.

You were pregnant.

You felt a rush of panic flow into you. What were you going to do?? Where could you go?? This was no ordinary hybrid's baby, this was Arlong's baby, a very dangerous individual.

Against all better judgement, you decided to keep it. This was your responsibility, it was in your hands to not let the baby become like Arlong. This could be another step to peace between both races. So you found yourself a job in one of the town's shops and settled down, since your life as a revolutionary was practically over, it was no life for an infant.

Nobody told you pregnancies or fishman pregnancies in this case, were that difficult. Everything ached, you felt swollen, and that little bundle of joy inside you was kicking up a storm with their tremendous strength. You felt tired, really tired, so tired that your neighbors took pity on you and kindly helped you with the most ardous tasks when you became too big to bend over. You felt grateful you had managed to land in such a kind and open minded community.

For some reason you got huge cravings for roasted beef, you needed to have it almost every single day. Maybe it was the fishman side of the baby, you remembered Arlong eating it some days.

There were days when you would just lay in bed, drenched in sweat and too exhausted and heavy to move while the baby practised their Fishman Karate moves. But there were also days, where you sat on the swing in your porch and stared at the sunset, while you softly caressed your growing belly and they gently moved in return.

The birth was something you would never forget. As if having a half fishman baby wasn't difficult enough due to the difference in species, you were having a sawfish fishman's baby. Holding your daughter in your arms filled you with inmense joy and tenderness and made it the best day of your life, but her nose alone had been enough to make a few tears in your birth canal that had to be stitched and would take sometime to heal.

But you easily forgave her because your daughter was perfect, her skin tone, nose, gills and wild hair might be her father's, yeah, but there was no denying that her facial structure and eyes were yours. Despite her similarities to Arlong, she was everything he wasn't, and you swore to protect her from any harm.

The next two years of your life were the most active and tiring of your life, and at the same time, the greatest. Your little girl was a cheerful child, full of love for everything that surrounded her, be it you, your neighbours, or a random ladybug she had found on the street. She was also restless, curious and very very energetic. The terrible twos had started and with them, came all the hardships of parenthood.

Her teeth were developing faster than any other human children, but slower than a fishman. Your neighbors, though patient and loving with the rambunctious hybrid child, were starting to get tired of finding random objects and parts of buildings filled with bite marks.

Despite her biting problem, no one gave you a hard time for her heritage, no one was ever cruel to her. Because there was certainly not a single bad bone in her tiny little body. She only knew about love, and peace. You led quiet and happy lives in your modest home in your little island, on the outskirts of town. Everything was perfect.

Until one day Arlong returned.

[galaxycunt]

I Can’t Keep Crying pt 6

pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5

Andddd it’s done! I might play around with this story some more but thank you all who have left comments and likes and just read it in silence ily ur so awesome send in the clowns

When you were probably way too young, and before she died, your mother wanted you to marry someone who could make you comfortable. She married for love, and all that got her was a husband away at sea for months at a time only to be killed by pirates. The boy down the street was studying to be a doctor, you felt her funeral needed to proceed a wedding. You would feel guilty otherwise.

When that got too hard, you set sail with a Marine, an officer even. You convinced him to let you on his ship, who left you to pirates when you were raided. You flirted with death more than lovers after that one, hopping around crews, never feeling comfortable.

When you met Buggy, it was an inn like the one you were in now, you heard about him though he didn’t impress you much. The get up was ridiculous, the nose too off putting to take seriously. He had some goons with him, taking up space at the bar. He wasn’t flirting with you, but with another woman. A woman who left the door open after making her exit.

Slipping in his room was easy, stealing enough berries to find passage with another ship. You felt this town was getting old, an adventure waiting somewhere else for you. You should have known your heist was too easy, a buggy ball knocking you out soon after.

”No one steals from Buggy The Clown.”

That was so long ago, being with him was the longest time you served under anyone. Not even your marriages lasted this long. You weren’t sure how to feel about it now. Buggy could probably charm your mother, she would pray for any child to take your features instead.

You were in love with the pirate captain currently beside you, after being inside you. God, you really loved him. Buggy gazed into your eyes like he could find the meaning of life in them. You could tell he hardly believed you were there, let alone that you loved him.

”Remember when we met?”

He smiled, “how could I forget? Not every day someone robs me.”

”Why did you let me live? Or join?”

He blushed, “I fall in love easily, what can I say? I don’t do slow and subtle.”

”You really don’t.”

You remembered the wound he gave you before you threw his money back at him. You knew when to fight and when to scrape by to live another day. Pirates liked a girl who was desperate enough to keep breathing.

“Security detail, you’re such a funny bullshitter.”

”Geez, sorry I didn’t want my future boyfriend chopping my head off.”

”Wait, really?”

You grin sheepishly, “well, no I wasn’t thinking that at the time.”

”Oh, when did you?”

”Like a couple of weeks before we fucked. At least what I was hoping for, you big flirt.”

He traced circles in your skin, finger roaming around your waist and hip. You hoped you didn’t upset him, that crush was bound to happen anyway. Falling for Buggy was inevitable.

“I mean, I always thought you were cute. You’re my boss, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah. Authority is hot and all that shit.”

He pulls you in for a kiss, you think back to the other men in you life, did they kiss you like this?

No, they didn’t. Not like this, Buggy was all in. No holding back.

“Remember when you saved me during the storm?”

You didn’t know about the devil fruit, not until a week or so into sailing with him. Buggy was always an excellent sailor, managing the sails with grace amongst the chaos. Showing the decades of experience, as easy as breathing. Until a wave hit him, causing him to tumble off the rope ladder he was on.

You were the first one to grab him, his body going limp. You stayed with him as you dragged him off to his cabin, unsure of what else to do. Drying him off, only for him to spring back into action like nothing happened. A wink and a blown kiss as he ran off to help his crew.

“That’s when I fell for you,” he whispered.

“Really? That soon?”

He shrugged, “when you know, you know.”

You felt like an asshole, the way you been unknowingly playing with his feelings. You hoped he didn’t hold it against you, and yet you wanted to just know it all. You were probably a little selfish that way.

”Did you mean it? That you’d say yes?” his voice faltered, filled with anxiety.

Your hands felt clammy, “yeah. You gotta do it right though, surprise me.”

He smiled, “I’m gonna dazzle your pants off.”

You smacked him playfully, “oh shut up.”

”You’re marrying this, so you can’t be that mad at me!”

”I ain’t marrying you yet.”

”But you will.”

”I will.”

His face fell into an easy smile, enveloping you in his arms. You had to let it happen, he wasn’t going to hurt you. You had to believe that.

You kissed his eyes, cheeks, lips, neck. Over and over, your body tingling with desire. Your mind turned over moments in your past; like when Buggy first taught you to throw knives, when he turned red as a tomato the first time you measured his body, the little pranks he pulled on you using his powers. You loved him in so many different ways.

”It was when you gave that kid some money.”

”What?”

”You did it once, we were in some village, it took me by surprise. No offense, you’re pretty greedy.”

He laughed, “I’m not that bad am I?”

“No, but it was just interesting. Different.”

He hummed in thought, and you wondered if you said the wrong thing. He kissed your knuckles, easing your worried face.

“I been married before. Two times.”

”That’s okay.”

You nodded, “let’s wait. Until the Grand Line. Find a nice quiet island.”

”Let me worry about all that, okay?”

”Yeah.”

Buggy looked at you with a fire in his eyes, scheming and plotting. It excited you, you were really doing this. Third times the charm right? And why the hell not? You did the legit route, a doctor, an officer, and a pirate. A captain even.

It was the stuff of trashy romance novels, a swashbuckling scoundrel who only had a soft side for you. That was Buggy alright, flashy and larger than life. You had one more question, deciding in your head which possible answer you’d like better.

”Where’d you get the ring?”

He laughed, “some bozo took it off his wife and threw it at me, remember that fancy schmancy ship with the gold stairs?”

That was a good haul, you still had the ruby encrusted ashtray. You did like this answer, after all. Why put on airs?

“It really does suit my style, she had taste. Well, for the most part.”

You let the wedding talk go, going back to talking about nothing. Things the ship needs, clothes you wanted to buy. You felt silly, when you thought about the lead up to this moment. You both could’ve been here a long time ago, but maybe that was a good thing.

You weathered the storm, coming out the other side stronger than ever. Buggy was your lifeline, your safe harbor. He was truly, the man of your dreams.

[chicgeekgirl89]

Chapter 2: Breakfast

Read on AO3

Six weeks. Carlos has six weeks to prove himself. That shouldn’t be a problem, right?

It can’t be. He needs this job. When Iris had called saying there was an opening on her boat, well, he’d never jumped on anything so fast in his entire life. At least he’d have one friend onboard. Anything had to be better than the shit he’d been putting up with on his previous boat. 

He was late. He hated being late. But there was nothing to be done, his flight had been delayed due to weather, which meant he was going to board the Firebug barely an hour before a group of guests came aboard. Perfect.

Knowing this he’d practically run down the dock, dragging his suitcase behind him, cursing himself for overpacking all those months ago when he’d left home.

The Firebug was easy to spot, a smaller vessel than some of the others, but still an impressive figure with her gleaming white sides against the blue of the ocean in the harbor. Her name was emblazoned in red on the stern, a small curl of flame following it.

Carlos dragged his luggage onboard and quickly found his way up to the bridge with help from a man named Dave who introduced himself as the boat’s engineer.

“Welcome aboard chef,” the captain said as he’d entered the bridge, wiping sweat from his brow and hoping he didn’t look as messy as he felt.

“Captain Vega, nice to meet you,” he’d replied, shaking her hand. He resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair that was probably doing crazy things in the humid Bahamian air, he should have taken some time to gel it down at the airport, but he’d been hustling to get here, anxious to figure out his galley and menus.

“It’s captain in front of the guests,” she said. “But below decks you can call me Tommy.”

Oh god. He was so bad at that kind of thing. Years of being taught to speak respectfully to his elders and people in authority roles by his mother was part of his DNA now. He just smiled and nodded

“Iris really sang your praises,” Tommy told him.

He furrowed his brow in confusion. “She did?”

Tommy quirked a smile. “Well, as much as Iris sings anybody’s praises. She’s not exactly the type to gush, is she?”

“No, she’s not,” Carlos said with a soft laugh. 

“But she is very honest,” Tommy said. “So I trust her judgement about you. I hope you’ll prove her right?”

“Yes Captain…Tommy,” he said lamely, feeling a blush rise in his cheeks at already forgetting how to address her. “I hope you’ll find that both my food and my service are up to the standards of the FireBug.”

“I’m sure they will be. We agreed to a six week trial period, but I hope that you’ll be with us for much longer than that,” she said. “Did Iris mention anything about our last chef?”

“She said there was…a difference of opinion on standards for the boat,” Carlos said delicately.

In fact Iris had told him in pretty explicit detail about Pearce’s rants and raves and his unceremonious departure. “I can assure you that my attitude won’t be a problem,” Carlos said..

“I can sense that already,” Tommy said warmly. “Now, I won’t keep you. I’m sure you’d like to get unpacked and then started on food prep. The guests are schedule to arrive in about an hour, but if you don’t think you’ll be ready by then I can make alternate arrangements for this evening.”

Carlos shook his head. “No ma’am. I’ll take care of it.”

And he had. Dinner had been amazing, the guests and crew alike had said so, and he’d been proud of the work he’d done. Nancy is so easy to work with and the rest of the crew stepped in to help with everything from finding pots and pans to running plates up and down from the aft deck where the guests were eating. Even after only ten hours on this boat he feels more comfortable and at home than he has in a long time.

At this point he’s been awake for almost twenty-four hours and between the travel and the mad dash to get dinner ready, he should have fallen into his bunk and gone instantly to sleep.

But instead he’s lying awake, staring at the ceiling, and thinking about the man sleeping only inches below him. Which is stupid. Because you shouldn’t be obsessed with someone mere hours after meeting them. And yet…he’d taken one look into those green eyes and immediately been captivated.

Which is a big problem because he’s generally against boatmances. And he’s even more opposed to having a boatmance with his roommate. He’s been on boats long enough to know that they’re a recipe for a messy disaster. Things can get ugly very fast, crew members take sides, it doesn’t bring anything good, and he needs this job. He can’t afford to mess it up. 

He wonders what T.K. stands for…

Carlos sighs and rolls over for the sixth or seventh time. He has so much to do in the next few days, if he’s going to be awake he should at least be thinking about menus for the guests and how he’s going to work around the primary’s gluten intolerance.

Instead he smiles as he remembers the look on T.K.’s face when they’d first met in the galley and then again just a little while ago as he’d readied for bed. T.K. had been impressed. And Carlos didn’t mind that one bit.

At some point he must finally drift off because the next thing he knows his alarm is startling him awake again. He turns it off quickly so it doesn’t wake up T.K., then carefully slips out of his bunk and into the bathroom to ready for the day.

He’s been in the galley for about fifteen minutes when Iris rolls in, a sweater over her Firebug uniform to ward off the dampness of the early morning. “Coffee’s fresh,” Carlos says as he slides a tray into the oven.

“Bless you,” she says, then points to the blueberry muffins cooling on the counter. “Those up for grabs?”

He grabs one and sets it on a plate. “I put extra blueberries in this one for you.”

“And that is why you’re my favorite chef,” she says, taking a huge bite. She chews for a second giving him a penetrating stare that sees right through him. It’s unnerving. “How’s your new roommate?”

“T.K.?” Carlos tries for nonchalant even though he knows exactly what Iris is getting at. She’s known him way too long not to see what’s probably all over his face. “He’s nice. Doesn’t snore.”

“And he’s cute,” she says around another bite of muffin. 

“Sure,” Carlos says.

She rolls her eyes. “He’s your type.”

“You don’t know my type.”

“We had a lot of posters of N*Sync hanging around,” she says pointedly. “I know exactly your type. T.K. is your type. You should ask him out. Or at least have sex with him and see if he’s any good in bed.”

“Iris!” Carlos yelps her name and then looks around to make sure no guests or other crew are poking their noses into the galley. “You can’t say stuff like that!”

“Why not?” she asks. “There’s nothing wrong with sex. It’s very healthy. You could use some. You clearly haven’t been laid in a while. You’re very uptight.” She checks her watch and then shoves the rest of the muffin in her mouth. “Gotta go. Breakfast setup awaits.”

She smacks his ass on the way out, leaving him speechless. Even after all these years, sometimes her bluntness still catches him off guard.

He manages to shake it off and run a successful breakfast service. Eggs Benedict as a special, although the primary wants eggs over medium instead and his wife asks for her sauce on the side. He whips up their requests and sends them along with the muffins and other assorted pastries and fruit. 

Nancy appears midway through the service and they have a quick chat about the beach picnic he’s going to prepare for lunch today. She’s so professional, it’s such a relief. Joining up with an already established crew is a crapshoot, and he’s worked with some truly impossible stews in the past. But this boat seems relaxed and happy. 

After he cleans up the guest’s breakfast dishes he heads into the crew mess to clean up the extra pastries and eggs he’d set out for them and finds T.K. sitting at the table, a yellow hoodie pulled up over his head. “Good morning,” Carlos says brightly as grabs dishes and starts loading them into the dishwasher. 

“Morning,” T.K. says.

His eyes look unfocused and he’s sitting very still. Carlos raises an eyebrow. “You okay?”

“Not a morning person,” T.K. grunts.

“I have fresh coffee in the galley,” Carlos offers.

That seems to perk him up a little bit. At least, he gets to his feet and grabs the last few dishes, shuffling after Carlos and accepting the warm mug he hands him. “Thanks,” he says after a long minute.

He looks freaking adorable. Carlos imagines that his hair is probably a wreck of bed head under that hood, and he’s dying to reach over and pull it off to find out if he’s right. Instead he asks, “Did you get any breakfast?”

T.K. squints up at him and Carlos has to bite back a laugh. He’s never seen someone struggle so much with being awake.

“I had…fruit?” T.K. says, like he’s not really even sure what happened as he sat in the crew mess by himself. 

“Do you want some eggs or something?”

“Don’t you have to get started on the beach picnic?”

Carlos checks his watch. “I’ve got a few minutes. You should eat something more than fruit. It’s a long day ahead.”

T.K. blinks a couple times. “I’m not a guest. You don’t have to go out of your way to cook for me.”

Carlos feels a blush rising in his cheeks. “I know. It’s…I like to take care of the crew.”

That’s a true statement. But a second truth is that he has never, ever, on any boat he’s worked on, gone out of his way to make someone on the crew breakfast after service was over. The captain? Yes. That’s just what you do. But a deckie or a stew? They’re welcome to help themselves, but he’s too busy to pull out all the stops for them.

T.K. shrugs. “Okay. Sure, yeah eggs would be great.”

The food and coffee seem to perk T.K. up. By the time Nancy sweeps in twenty minutes later he’s removed the hoodie and is walking Carlos through every track on Harry Styles’ latest album. He’s adorable, eyes sparkling, hands whipping around animatedly as he explains why this specific lyric is so incredible. 

Carlos doesn’t have a particular interest in Harry Styles, but truly T.K. could be talking about wallpaper paste and Carlos would listen eagerly. 

Shit.

“Fabulous, he has a new victim to torture,” Nancy says as she sets down a tray of glasses. “Maybe I’ll be able to make it an entire hour without hearing about the lyrics to Falling.”

“Keep being mean to me and I’ll go back to deck crew,” T.K. says.

“Keep filibustering and one of us is going to send you to Davey Jones’ locker,” she tosses back. “Also can you go make like an entire pitcher of margaritas? The clients are thirsty.”

“Yes,” T.K. says immediately, snapping back into work mode. “Thanks for breakfast Carlos.”

It’s the first time T.K. has said his name and it sets something fluttering in Carlos’ chest. Which is very stupid. It’s his name. He’s heard it every day of his entire life. But somehow hearing it on T.K.’s lips feels different. 

It feels right.

[gaps-between-stories]

Fic Preview

A sneak peek at an upcoming chapter in Safe Ship, Harbored, my introduction of Anne Bonny and Mary Read to the canon timeline!

“Why are you here, Vane?” 

“Well, now that you mention it, I did just hear the most interesting rumor. The same time that Edward Teach disappeared from English custody, I heard you brought on a completely new crew. You’ve kept the same crew for years, eh? So I heard that, and I thought to myself, ‘that doesn’t sound like Anne Bonny to me.’ And then I heard that you’d been seen with a second ship for the first time since, well, you know. And I thought ‘how strange, the last time Anne Bonny sailed in a fleet was with Blackbeard.’” He leaned forward in his seat with such a disingenuous grin that Anne wanted to smack right off his face.

“But then I thought ‘Anne would never align herself with a British puppet, let alone three.’” He held up three fingers for emphasis. “Because this Act of Grace headache wasn’t just Teach, was it?” Vane’s eyes settled just beyond Anne, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Mary start to move towards them. 

“Couldn’t have been easy to hear that Israel Hands coordinated the entire ordeal, eh?” He asked with a smile that didn’t extend to his eyes. Mary stiffened at the thinly veiled accusation. Vane turned his attention back to Anne. 

“Such a shame what happened to Calico, don’t you think? The British weren’t too happy with him once they lost the great Blackbeard from their custody. They strung him up pretty fast after that one. I heard his neck didn’t even snap, poor bloke. All over a piece of paper.” Vane let out an exaggerated put-upon sigh – it didn’t fool Anne. 

It took every fiber of self-control that Anne had to keep her reaction neutral. 

“And well, I just remember how close the lot of you all were, back in the day. What an impressive fleet that was,” he let out a low whistle. “So I just thought that I should pay you a visit, make sure you’re handling all of this alright. I can only imagine how betrayed you both must have felt at the news.” 

Anne refused to take her eyes off of Vane, the knife in her stomach twisting with every sentence. He was right, Anne was pissed, but he didn’t need to know that. 

“Unless, of course, you happened to know where Edward and Israel are? There’s quite a few folks in Nassau who’d certainly like a few words with the two of them after all of this. Ever since Blackbeard disappeared the British have been a total pain in my ass, like they’ve got something to prove. But we’ve all got bosses to answer to, eh?”

“Haven’t seen any of them in years. Not since St. Lucia. We spotted this ship,” she gestured to the Revenge, “sailing wild so we approached. She’s been abandoned, no one was onboard.” 

He considered her a moment, deciding. Anne could see the wheels turning in his head, practically hearing the series of decisions he was making internally as he silently compared the sizes of their crew, debated how much blood he was willing to clean out of his fancy new coat. “Hmm, well enough,” he finally settled. 

“Are you satisfied with your wellness check?” Anne barely kept her voice level. 

“I’ve actually got a proposition for you,” his tone lightened, only slightly. “You see, I’ve got a group of very angry captains who don’t appreciate the Crown breathing down our necks. We’re gathering in a fortnight, in Havana, to decide our next plan of action. I’d love to see you there,” he grinned again. 

Anne shook her head as she stood up, effectively ending the conversation. “I’m not going to war,” she decided, firm. 

Vane smirked as he returned his hat to head, standing as he did. “Why don’t you take some time to think about it,” he offered, the honey of his voice laced with poison. 

“This isn’t my fight, Vane. I’m not going up directly against the Crown.” She began moving back towards the bridge between the William and Ranger.

Chuckling, Vane turned back to look at Anne. “Oh, I almost forgot to ask, what’s Montserrat like this time of year?” 

For the first time since he boarded her ship, Anne’s demeanor slipped. Her blood ran ice cold and she couldn’t stop her breath from hitching fast enough. Vane’s eyes crinkled when he knew he won. 

“I’ll see you in two weeks, Anne,” he told her cooly, before stepping back up onto the gangplank. 

[oflostinfound]

She was surprisingly light, a loud bleat leaving her as she's pulled back over the railing. She'd expected the Captain to, hopefully, tend to his wounds instead of worry over if she could get back aboard.

It seems that was not the case as she finds herself sitting on the deck of the ship. Her wide eyed expression turned up towards the Captain- who quickly lowered himself to her level. Ears pin back as he examines her for injuries, scolds her for her rash action. That little stunt that could've easily cost her her life if she was anything but a daemon.

But I was saving you- I was saving the crew.

She wanted to say, but the worry in his eyes, the fear... It reminded her of something- of the last look her father gave her before he told her to run. She never felt more foolish.

|| 🔷 ||: ❝ Captain, I- ❞

Is all she gets out before the sound of Smee's voice carries over the canon fire, and the Captain slumps against her shoulder,

|| 🔷 ||: ❝ Captain! ❞

Arms wrap around his torso, to support him so he wouldn't fall sideways onto the deck. Eyes turn down to his shirt, to the dark red blood seeping through it. He had been shot. Everything that happened didn't nullify that. If anything it had to have agitated the injury.

|| 🔷 ||: ❝ Sir Smee-! ❞

She wastes no time, scooping the Captain into her arms and carrying him over to the boatswain. Tired as her limbs may be from treading water and fighting the brute, she still had a rather impressive amount of strenght for her size, and if he needed to keep pushing herself to make sure the Captain survived, then that's what she would do.

|| 🔷 ||: ❝ Please- Please tell me you know how to treat a wound like this! ❞

She couldn't afford to loose anyone else she cared about. Not again.

Hook was scanning the waters, his coat discarded, ready to jump in after her until he heard her shouts come out from the water and he turned to a little further down the ship where she was scaling the side.

Using the rail as support, he dragged himself towards her ascent. By now, the attacking bandit pirates had given up, retreating with heavy loses onto a highly damaged ship, which Hook's own crew were still firing upon.

Mr Smee could now see his Captain amongst the bustle and began to hurriedly make his way towards them.

Staring down as she climbed, he felt a heavy ache - and not just from his wound - Every man for himself. He shook his head, that was wrong and he knew it, morality started to cling to his mind.

When she was high enough, he reached over, grabbing the back of her shirt and dragging her aboard with a grunt, imminently sinking down to her level, a hand on her cheek and hook on her shoulder to examine her face, her neck, to see if she was injured.

"Do NOT do that again." He stated, strict and harsh, but his eyes spoke fear and worry. I could have lost you. He brushed some hair away from her face, shaking his head in disbelief.

"CAP'N!" Smee called out and as soon as the boatswain called out, Hook had already began to slump against Eath.

[zoros-bandana]

Part 1 for my angst Zoro x reader request! Everyone, even Luffy, knows about S/O’s love for Zoro, given how she does support and take care of him a lot. Zoro does appreciate her efforts but doesn’t know how to reject her properly. With the Grand Line getting more dangerous, Zoro trains more and is stressed. In private, when S/O tries to get him to rest, he rejects her in the worst way possible. Taking all his stress out on her, he tells her never to bother him again. S/O quietly agrees.

Unreciprocated 

(part 1) (part 2) (SFW)

Warning: possible Thriller Bark spoilers, aggression, fighting, yelling

Summary: Joining the Strawhat crew came with an unintentional consequence; falling for the swordsman. Over time, the course of the treacherous seas forced an unbearable weight to push on your relationship with Zoro, until one fateful day in Sabaody.

Word Count: 1,200

   You had joined the Strawhat crew shortly after Usopp, enthusiastically invited aboard by your captain. The moment you became a Strawhat you slotted in almost perfectly; except for the looming bubble over your head. From the moment you met your crew you sparked a particular interest in the swordsman, fascinated by his craftsmanship and loyalty. There was something so captivating by him it was hard for you to keep away from him, constantly drawn to his every move. 

   Although you weren’t that well with fighting, you tried your best to supply what you could to the crew; caring and assisting your crew in whatever you could. Your skills weren’t overly helpful in the battle field - your chosen profession more domestic based - but you tried to help where you could. Taking the opportunity you turned to Zoro for help, knowing he would be the best person to spar against to strengthen your abilities. You wished to be greater on the field, not only to help your crew, but to impress the swordsman you were madly in love with. 

   The two of you would go around in circles. The more treacherous the sea became, the more protective and love-struck you were with him; while he battled to not only protect his crew but juggle training and sparing against you. It soon became clear to everyone on board of the love you showed for Zoro; even to those who were usually oblivious to everything. However nobody said a word to you. It was clear that he made you happy, and although your presence seemed to aggravate the stresses already building on him, you could also provide a source of comfort for Zoro he deeply needed. 

Zoro was aware of your feelings, however, was too inverted to let you down gently. He did enjoy having you around as nobody else in the crew was willing to participate with training in the crows nest. But he also couldn't focus on his dream; the things he desired so deeply. Having you around felt like a wall he couldn't barge through, your overbearingly love-sick manners mimicking that of Sanji around Nami. He would do anything in his power to protect the crew, including yourself, but he knew where his intentions lied; and he couldn't voice his rejection for you. By the time the crew had reached its limit of nine, Zoro felt his body on the verge of breaking; momentarily on the verge of snapping at any second. He was drained. Physically and mentally he felt weak - as if he was the weakest member of the crew - and he needed to train. He needed to concentrate on what was at stake; his dreams, his crew, his ambition. He couldn't have any distractions to take him away from his prime focus.

And that included having you around.

   After the events of Thriller Bark, your worries for Zoro grew sickly; pining after him at any chance you had. You didn’t want to lose him. You couldn't lose him. Not again. You pressed Sanji for details on what happened that day, unaware of the amount of pain he physically and emotionally endured; although met with a dead end of dismissal. You could pick up on the growing annoyance in Zoro, mumbling how weak he was as he only wished to train harder. The wounds on his body grew tired, opening through even strain as he tried to push through training. He grew more willing to spar alongside you, much to his constant dismissal of your concerns for him. He found your activity as a source for him to let out his stress, growing more harsh with his sessions. He ignored your concerns for him to rest, each dismissal piling over an already tilted wave of stress; willing to snap at any moment. 

That was until you reached Sabaody. 

“Zoro” you stood over him, ignoring the bar blocking your view “you need to rest!”

“I’m fine, just piss of will ya”

“You’re not” you argued, placing a hand on the bar to stop him from lifting it over his head once again “you’re body is still recovering”

“I said I’m fine!” He snapped, furiously tossing the bar back on the hook above him. Sighing he sat up, ignoring the painful ache in his body as he walked away from you; picking up one of his dumbbells on the other side of the room. 

“That’s not what I meant!” You scurried after him “just please rest for a bit; it doesn’t have to be long. I worry about you sometimes and I really do think it would be beneficial for you to not train so much. You’re ignoring Chopper’s advice the least you can do is listen to -”

“Oh my god, (y/n)! Can’t you just leave me alone?” He snapped, turning down to look at you. His voice rumbled through the crows nest, each word spitting like poisonous venom. His whole body shook with adrenaline, an overwhelming mixture of fear and overstimulation forcing him to snap. 

“Just stop this crap! You have been nothing but an annoyance to me ever since you joined the crew! You never leave me alone and all you want to do is do things for me or talk to me and its distracting! Can’t you go mope around someone else for a change, huh? What about that stupid ero-cook? Anyone else, I really don’t care! I don’t care what you do, (y/n), as long as it is as far away from me as possible! I wish you never joined us to begin with! My life would be so much easier if you weren’t here!”

“Oh” you mumbled, looking away from him. You shook your head to fight against the strain of tears that brimmed at your eyes, your lip wavering as you spoke. “Okay, Zoro. I’m sorry I bothered you… I won’t let it happen again”

   Spinning on your heels you made your way to the door, quickly getting away from Zoro. The sinking feeling in your stomach tied you up in knots, the cruel sting of each word hitting you so deeply. You didn’t mean for him to feel overwhelmed with your support. You cared so deeply for him that you would do anything to make sure he was okay; and that wasn’t enough for him to care back for you. It was obvious what his true intentions were and he didn’t want you around. 

And because you loved him you would do anything to make him happy.

Even if it meant you had to stay away from him. 

[fireflykaizoku]

Hello you are the body swap Queen now. 👑 here's your crown, my leige.

So speaking of, wifey could i please have soul mate body swap w Sanji? (afab reader pls) 💖 love yoouuuuuuu

i accept this crown thank you 😭😭 of course! i hope you like it! love youuu ❤

You celebrated your 23th birthday, and you weren’t excited about the birthday itself, but to finally meet your soulmate. You’ve been waiting too long for this to happen, and would be a little disappointed if your soulmate was younger, which it meant you’d still have to wait longer.

It was hard to sleep that night, with all the fantasies you imagined, wondering if your soulmate would be someone caring, gentle and romantic, just like you’ve always dreamed. Maybe they’d be your opposite, and the personalities would clash before you both realized you’re in love. Who knows? But whatever destiny had planned, you’d accept it.

You opened your eyes, seeing a boy wearing a strawhat looking at you, as if he was waiting for you to wake up. You jumped out of the bed, assuming the boy, who surprisingly didn’t look like a threat, broke in. As if you weren’t terrified enough, you realized that room wasn’t yours, the decoration was different, and there were too many beds.

— What do you want? — you asked, realizing your voice. — And where am I?

— Sanji, I’m hungry. — he whined. — You’re late, I want breakfast.

— Sanji? — you whispered asking yourself, and then you realized you finally had switched bodies with your soulmate! But who is he?

When the young man in front of you kept complaining about being hungry, you decided to act as if you were Sanji. How hard could it be? If he only made breakfast, it should be easy until you found out a solution, right?

— I’ll be in the kitchen in a minute. Just… Go wait for me there. — you replied.

The guy left, still complaining. You tried to find a bathroom to at least wash your face and feel awake. As soon as you saw your reflection in the mirror, you couldn’t help smiling seeing the face of your soulmate. He was handsome, blonde with funny curly eyebrows, that you thought it added some charm to his features. Apparently, he dressed nice too.

As you headed to the kitchen, you realized it wasn’t a house, it was a pirate ship! Your soulmate was a pirate!

While you were expecting only the guy you were talking to, you found other seven people sitting and apparently waiting for the meal. They were also a bit loud and talking a lot. As if it wasn’t enough to make you nervous while trying to make breakfast, something you weren’t the best at, there was a green haired man cussing at you for no reason.

With all your skills, you tried to make the best meal, hoping no one would notice the difference, which they did.

— Sanji, this tastes different. — the boy from earlier complained.

— Well, this is what we have now. — you replied, rolling your eyes. How picky this man could be?

— Stupid cook. — the green haired guy clicked his tongue. — Waking up late and letting us starve.

You decided to ignore that man’s remarks. You were washing the dishes, and you saw the woman with black hair approaching you. By her looks, someone could think she was intimidating, but during the breakfast you realized she was very nice.

— You’re Sanji’s soulmate. — she said. — Aren’t you?

Your eyes widened, how did she know? Could she perhaps see the future or something like that? You nodded, still surprised.

— I guessed. That’s why “Sanji” was acting so different today. — the woman giggled. — I’m Nico Robin. Nice to meet you.

— I’m (Y/N). Are you… Pirates?

— Yes, our captain is Luffy. He’ll be the king of the pirates. Your soulmate is Black Leg Sanji, he’s also our cook. He’s a flirt, but he’s going to be so happy to know he found his soulmate. Sanji will love you so much.

The woman kept talking about him, and the more you heard about him, the more you realized he was like you always wanted your soulmate to be. A gentleman who’d love you and take care of you. You also found out Zoro and Sanji just didn’t get along very well, and that explains what happened this morning.

But you wondered how you’d find your soulmate. You didn’t even know where you were right now.

— You can tell us where you live. Our navigator, Nami, will find your island. I’m sure Luffy won’t mind if she go there for a while.

After you and Robin explained the whole situation to the rest of the crew, the captain didn’t need to be asked twice. He was willing to make you and Sanji meet, and then switch back. The cute reindeer called Chopper was very curious, wondering how the soulmate thing worked.

During lunch and dinner, the two women helped you cooking something the crew would like.

Before sleeping, you went to the deck, wondering when you’d arrive at your island. You also wondered what you would do after switching back. The life as a pirate seemed so exciting, full of adventures, and be able to see a different place every day. You were hoping Sanji would ask you to sail with him.

The morning after you saw the small island from far, you felt your heart beating faster and you started getting anxious. After dreaming with that kiss for so long, it was about to happen in just a few minutes.

The ship docked, and you started walking in the direction of your house. You opened the door and saw your other half sitting on the couch, pulling a bit of the shirt you were wearing, or better yet, that he was wearing, to have a peek of what was covered by the layer of clothes. His nose started bleeding right away.

— Hey! — you said, not angry, just… Surprised. — What are you looking at?

He looked at you feeling extremely embarrassed not expecting to get caught trying to have a glimpse of your body. He just couldn’t resist, seeing your chest, feeling your curves as soon as he woke up in your body, he needed to look.

— I’m so sorry, (Y/N)-swan! — he apologized. — I was… Just a little look wouldn’t hurt, right?

You rolled your eyes, sighing.

— We need to switch back. — you said, sitting next to him.

— Yes, we do… — he said, getting closer and already eager for the kiss. — But before… Please, let me just have another look. Just a quick look. — he held your hand, and begged.

— One more.

He peeked under the shirt once again, just to make his nose bleed once again. One would think he had never seen a naked body before.

That’s really not how you imagined the kiss to be.

— Okay, now we switch back. — Sanji smiled.

You two just looked at each other, feeling a bit anxious, a bit shy. It was a kiss that would change your lives forever, it was a big deal. Sanji wanted to impress you, he wanted it to be perfect. He softly kissed your lips, before pulling you into a heated kiss, full of passion and desire. His hand place on the back of your neck, while the other pulled you closer by your hips.

When you two opened your eye and realized you had switched back, you saw Sanji’s face from close, his cheeks were red and he looked at you with so much love, as if he spent his life waiting for you.

— My beautiful (Y/N)-swan, let’s sail together, come explore the world with me. — he whispered, while brushing your (H/C) hair behind your ear. — You’re my All Blue.

[chocolatepot]

Sweet Damsel, a genderbent/Rule 63 AU

Ed thinks she can go back to the way things were before Stede, but Stede is determined to find her and make amends. (4102 words, one-shot.)

Something was niggling at her attention as her crew swarmed over the little ship and confronted its men, but she shook it off and continued staring at its mistress, who had backed up to the far rail. She drew her sword, hilt decorated with a multicolored knot of ribbon, and held it before her: high enough to be a threat, but not high enough to really be a threat.

“Sweet damsel,” Ed began. That had been a line in a story Stede had read the crew one night while they all sat on deck together, and it had struck her at the time as unbearably romantic. “I’m afraid we’ve come to ransack your yacht, but have no fear, I won’t harm you.” That had been a line Stede had used one time when Ed had let her try to menace a ship’s captain, and it just felt right.

I wrote so much for an end note that I decided to just ramble here beneath a cut.

Fun with anachronisms! If the show can have Pinocchio in 1717, I can surely represent chemise gowns and big hats as Caribbean fashion in the same period.

I’m a little obsessed with the idea of fem!Stede and fem!Ed because my own gender presentation is ludicrously feminine in such a way that it’s still rather queer and stands out – I wear full skirts with petticoats and have curly hair down to my waist, and pre-Covid I was a big fan of bright Besame lipstick. So while conventional wisdom might be that a cis female Stede would find it easier to fit into her colonial society, I can see how being “too feminine”/falling into negative feminine stereotypes of the period could have been an issue for her (and she’s still autistic anyway, imo), though at the same time she has plenty of “unfeminine” interests that would also be seen as a problem by society. 

Female Ed fascinates me in another way because, just like in canon, liking fine things doesn’t necessarily mean she’s “feminine” or that some kind of biologically essentialist innate female drive is pushing her into her assigned role. She’s a fancy butch who likes to wear nice perfume. I did give her a different pirate name/title, because “Blackbeard” stretched the limits of my suspension of disbelief. “Blackmane” refers to her wild, curly, Natasha Lyonne-esque black hair.

At first I thought I would have Izzy still be a cis man, but that introduces a weird dynamic I don’t like, so she’s a toxic lesbian instead.

It’s amazing how switching the genders immediately triggers the “am I allowed to do that?” alarm in my brain. Oooh, romantic conflict between women, is that sending a bad message? If I make Izzy a femmephobic butch woman, is that implying that I think all women need to embrace stereotypical femininity? It never occurred to me to interpret every single thing related to female characters in my writing as either and only good examples or condemnation until fandom started doing it.

I think this is at least the third reunion I’ve written and I love that it’s utterly unlike the others. I have NEVER speculated that Ed might want to steal some of the Gentleman Pirate’s shtick and impress a potential aristocratic victim with fancy clothes and manners, but it suddenly seemed totally rational, probably because I’m weak for gentlemanly butches. I do read a lot of metas, though, and people have been pointing out that Ed’s not angry about Stede leaving, he’s sad, so I was trying to envision what the reunion might look like if we deliberately avoid the angry!Ed characterization. It’s a lot quicker.

Asjdkljsakldjlsa Stede is the kind of person who desperately loves the idea of having her chin raised with the point of her rival’s sword, she absolutely engineered it to happen and she was hoping Ed would be angry enough to hold her that way for a while. Maybe even to slice open her chemise gown a bit. So there’s an audience, she trusts them all to look away if there’s too much skin to be decent.

I’m casting Juliet Stevenson as Izzy. I think she’d play the role well. Maybe Mamaengaroa Kerr-Bell for Ed, although she’s slightly on the young side? I don't know who to cast for Stede yet.

This is not the last of Izzy! I just feel like in canon, we’re going to see something like what happened in Ted Lasso s2 with Nate, i.e. leaving to become more of a villain. And then presumably coming to realize that a huge mistake has been made and making amends. I am actually a proponent of Izzy redemption in the long run, don’t take this ending as my thinking the best thing would be for Izzy to disappear forever. I may come back to this AU ’verse and write her return.

Where is Lucius in all this? Still hiding or something, I don’t know.

[reap-the-game]

captainqster:

To her teasing, to this dangerous game, Ren smirked. It was a short-lived thing, there one second and gone the next, as within that second he heard the movement of metal and leather as she reached for her holster and withdrew a gun. His eyes fixed on the barrel, then looked down its black channel when she pointed it at him.

That narrow blackness yawned. It breathed. It stopped his heart, watching him as intently as he watched it, and told him quite jubilantly that his life could be snuffed with a wink and a bang.

He’d had pistols and rifles aimed at him before. Long ago, when he was but a half-drowned teenager, an entire swarm of men had trained them on his head as he was given a choice: serve, or finish drowning. Frankly the guns had seemed superfluous, but he’d never forgotten the terror of it. Unlike a knife at your throat or a sword at your back, a pistol didn’t deal in fairness. It wasn’t interested in skill or experience. Its only interest was punching holes and doing it loudly.

Unhealthy, she said, and Ren’s eyes narrowed as she playfully mimed a shot’s recoil. How amusing—to her and her alone. His heart at least warily resumed its beating once she aimed the weapon away from him. Of course he noticed that she didn’t put it away, and was surprised when she humored him by making a guess.

What a bundle of emotions. Indignation came to join them as he set the little bauble down and watched her with lofty displeasure. Was he done playing? Maybe not, but neither did he enjoy having his mortality made a part of the game. But she was in the position of power. This was her ship, her crew, and her cabin. Her fragile mercy.

And she guessed right. Should he be disappointed?

“You’re a lucky guesser,” he praised, sounding sincere in being impressed, and maybe he was. More than that, he had a choice to make: tell her the truth and risk his freedom, or withhold it and risk her anger. “Give or take a few years.”

Considering the gun in her hand, he felt it best to fess up. There was the question, though, of what would happen after he gave her the information he’d promised. He had twenty years of experience with pirates. He knew their way of life, knew their weapons and their ships and how to maintain them all, how to sail, how to be useful. On top of that, he was young, strong, and well-versed in several manners of combat.

Not too many would pass up the chance to absorb him into their ranks, and he’d meant what he told her: that he would die before working alongside her crew. Not only because he hated them, even if that was a crucial detail, but, gods, half his lifetime so far had been spent enslaved and made to fight other people’s battles. Now that the prospect of freedom was so close and so real, he couldn’t bear to let it slip through his fingers.

So he stepped towards her—slowly, fingers splayed in a show of harmlessness—and felt confident that if she were to shoot him it would be for having the nerve to approach rather than for fear. She was a prickly thing, an imperious captain one moment and a slumped over drunk the next, but it made her no less dangerous. Still, still, he needed assurances. He’d never expected her to guess right.

“I will tell you, like I said I would. But first you have to promise that you’ll still let me go.”

One corner of his mouth ticked upwards into a mirthless smile. The promise of a pirate was worth so little. The great majority of them followed a code, and that code often came down to semantics and word play to justify wriggling free of their vows, or they flat out lied.

Or, some refused promises altogether and downed those who dared demand one. He might get one out of her and know it held little weight. She might kill him for having the gall to ask in the first place.

Whatever the outcome, he just needed to hear it. Maybe then, should she change her mind, he could pin her mercy beneath his heel before it fled and lean on it. Trap it by its tail and use whatever interest in him, whatever blood connection they had, to sway her again. You promised, you swore, look at me, there’s a reason you saved me, don’t forget that now. Desperation. What else did he have? Nothing but the torn shirt on his back.

Which he slid his hand into, pushing the tattered front aside to bear deeply tanned and vulnerable flesh from collar to ribs. He tapped at the spot over his heart with the pad of his finger.

“Or you might as well shoot me now.”

reap-the-game:

Her surprise was apparent when it turned out she had guessed correctly—or close enough to correctly that it didn’t matter. She didn’t bother hiding it, mild as her display of it was: her brows rose, little else. “My my,” she voiced, taking another drink from her bottle. “Lucky me.”

Was she glad to have guessed correctly? Perhaps, for her curiosity’s sake if nothing else. For the sake of not having to figure out how far she was willing to go to wrangle answers out of him, whether he wanted to give them or not. This seemed… Easiest. Most straightforward, even if it was born from nothing but dumb luck.

Although he only went to add to her surprise by asking for her promise. What was he about to tell her that he saw the need to ask her to promise to let him go even after hearing it? At this, she frowned, though the expression was only one of bewilderment, instead of that of annoyance. She had already made it clear enough that her annoyance held its risks for him, so her confusion was likely the better option.

But confused she was, and voiced that readily enough. “A promise? From a pirate?” she asked with audible disbelief. His approach earned him little reaction, if nothing else, but her perpetually maintained intoxication didn’t reduce the sharpness of her eyes as she regarded him. It almost looked like he understood himself how utterly ludicrous his request was.

A promise. From a pirate. Her kind wasn’t exactly known for being the noble and honorable sort, and it did not matter that she had not spent all her life as one. She was one all the same, had embraced that life and its expectations in the lack of better options—enough so that men accepted her as their captain, so well did she fit in among them.

What could a promise from her possibly mean, then? So she hadn’t been a pirate for life, not even for that many years, but for every last intent and purpose, she was a pirate, a cur like all the rest in all their lack of common morals, in their plundering, butchering ways. Giovanna was not one of the rare ones that stuck to some manner of moral compass to guide them. Where there was profit to be made, that she did. When it suited her to follow a rule or to keep her word, she did.

When it would earn her nothing, she did not.

It was all quite simple, and he tried to complicate it, as if he didn’t know better.

Now there was all the grace in the world in her motion when Giovanna pushed herself to her feet, abandoning the chair once more. Not her bottle, though—nor her pistol, more importantly. He had approached her, he was close to her, and closer still were they once she was standing at her full height in front of him. Still was she the shorter of them, unusually tall as he was for a man of their race, and her… Well, she wasn’t the tallest, for a woman.

But that difference was not much, certainly not enough for her to feel cowed or threatened. She was armed. He was not, at least with nothing that wouldn’t be makeshift. She was alert for any dirty attempts on his part, her ears and all the rest of her senses tuned to him–

But there was a temptation she could not pass up in the way he brushed his torn shirt aside from his toned chest, as if taunting for her to take his life right there and then. Would she take the invitation? Should she? Oh, she should, and her motion may have been slow, as if not to startle, for what such gesture was worth when she pressed the tip of the barrel of her pistol right where he had tapped—right over his heart, where his chances of surviving a point blank shot…

Her only mercy was that she did not ready the gun. Yet.

She was not tense as she studied him with a tilted head from that position, as if enthralled by his lack of self-preservation, by his willingness to give his life for a worthless promise. “You’re an odd one, Ren,” she noted, her voice almost… Perturbed. “But I promise.”

Worth absolutely nothing, her word, but if it eased his mind to hear it, who was she to deny him the pleasure?

At that she stepped back, breaking the contact between his skin and her gun and again pointing the weapon safe away even if she still did not put it away, so fond of it was she. So… Tempted to rid herself of him. Would she be able to bring herself to pull the trigger, though? If her life was not on the line? That question she did not wish to entertain. No matter how willing he seemed to throw his life away for nothing, some part of her strongly felt that she would not be able to free him of it without her hand being forced.

But the ease of the method to do that with, the pistol, it was nevertheless a strange comfort. More impersonal than a knife or a sword, the best of her chances of ever doing what the smart thing would have been. Smartest would be to deny him his freedom at the last minute, tie him up as they neared their destination, send him straight to the auction block–

Why did that thought continue to disturb her so? Why did she stubbornly continue to not wish to so much as imagine him in that position, even if she would never need to see it for herself?

It was a near thing that she didn’t break her stare on him when the image of him tied and enslaved assaulted her mind. She could be the cause of that. Should be.

And yet it only… Hurt her. Even more so than taking his life. Was he not showing a preference for the latter? Were the odds not so high that it would be a mercy over slavery under an unknown, but very likely a cruel master? “Satisfied?”

[saabbi]

Regret part 8

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Genshin Impact Adeptus!au

warnings: -

notes: I definitely did NOT forget tumblr and posted this chapter on all other platforms except here. ao3 series link

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A wave of nausea hits you, as you sit up with a throbbing headache. Your pounding head feels like it’s about to crack open, and the bumpy searide is definitely not helping, disrupting you from your much needed rest.

Knock knock. You dragged your body to the door, opening it to find a crew member greeting you.

“Hey! Our crew has prepared some meals, the captain asked if you’d like to sit with us to eat as well?”

“It’s fine, I don’t-” rumble , your stomach rumbles like the storms in Inazuma. Oh, how embarrassed you are.

“Oh my, you must be starving! Come on out! It should be ready!” they drag you out, seating you by the round table with several dishes already served.

Adepti don’t need sustenance , you remember what Xiao always said. Which is, or was , true, as you never felt the need to consume food, eating was only an act to satisfy your own taste buds, not that you ate much except for occasional snacks Childe brings you. But archons do you finally understand the word famished .

The Crux’s crew members are all amiable towards you and lively; filling your bowl with rice to the brim, keeps on adding more meat and vegetables to your bowl after seeing you wolf down the food given like you haven’t eaten for days- you couldn’t even thank them fast enough with your mouth full. The captain, boisterous and energetic, would tell you stories of the crew’s sea journeys while you devoured the dishes. It’s the first time we’ve had a Snezhnayan onboard , she told you with her crew’s eyes sparkling and nodding in agreement.

“So...you’re what they call the harbingers, right? From the Fatui-gang thing? Why are you heading to Liyue?” The captain nonchalantly asked you, causing your hands to freeze on the spot.

Swallowing the mouthful of rice and putting down your chopsticks, you lowered your voice, “Um, I was one, until recently. For now I suppose I’m… meeting up with old friends back in Liyue.” You awkwardly rubbed your neck. The harbinger title may once mean everything to you, but not anymore.

“Oh... is that so?” Beidou sensed stiffness from you, deciding not to press any further, “well, starting off fresh doesn't always mean it’s bad, and meeting up with good old friends huh? That is quite nice, must be looking forward to it, huh?”

“Yes...i-it is quite nice…” Beidou chuckles at your slightly flustered response and lightly ruffles your hair, then continues to stuff your bowl with even more food to make sure you eat enough. She said that you looked pale and sickly, urging you to gobble down more food, with you unable to protest with your mouth full.

.

.

.

You’re definitely less agile compared to before. Your body doesn’t feel as light, no longer able to reach high grounds with a simple jump. Your sword is also a lot heavier than it was, or maybe you just lost strength.

“The clean strikes and experience hidden in the stance...impressive indeed, gozaru. ” a uniquely dressed crewmate who saw you practicing your swings clap at your demonstration. You remember Beidou calling him Kazuha, he seems to be impressed at your skills which are aged like fine wine. Your swings are less powerful and slower than before, but you still have your swordsmanship skills and techniques embedded in you.

“Yet you seem a bit… preoccupied. Is there something on your mind?”

You put your blade aside and lean on the railing of the ship, aimlessly tracing the waves that seem to chase after the ship, “I’m not sure what to say when I see him again.”

What should you say when you see Zhongli? Long time no see? I was fired by the Tsarista herself, so I came back? Everything just sounds incredibly wrong.

“There’s a lot of things I want to say, but I also don’t know what to tell him.”

The tingling excitement in you clashes with the anxiousness, uncertain of how to face Zhongli. You were once an adeptus of Liyue, then the twelve harbinger of the Fatui, and now… you lost both titles. You even lost your adeptal powers, could you even consider yourself an adeptus now? How would Zhongli respond when he hears all of this? You sigh, wishing the ship would give you more time for mental preparation before reaching Liyue.

“I’m sure that your feelings, just like the wind, will surely properly reach them. What’s important is that you convey them before everything’s too late.” Kazuha gazes distantly into the ocean. You overlook the lingering loneliness in his last sentence, deciding you’re not in the position to pry into it and put your focus onto the gentle rocking of the sea instead.

.

.

.

Zhongli paces back and forth continuously by the harbour, rubbing his fingers apprehensively with a stern expression on his face which made even Hutao, who was passing by the harbour, not dare to sneak up and pull a prank on him.

Zhongli, usually a calm and reserved man, well liked by people, now shooting up and flinching at the slightest noise of a ship’s horn and looking around with uneasiness, seemingly searching for something, received confused looks from passersby.

Zhongli, who received a letter not long ago, delivered in a hurry by one of Childe’s subordinates, spit his pu-erh tea out when he read the contents. The letter was short, with messy and almost unreadable handwriting which seemed to be written in a rush, and only included a very brief idea of what happened in Snezhnaya, something about you getting exiled and hurt, now returning to Liyue on Crux, telling him to wait at the harbour for Crux and to get you home safe.

That letter gave him no further useful information at all on your safety, or whatever craziness happened to you, which nowhere reassures him. He fumbles with the letter until it’s all crumbled and wrinkly, as if it would speed up Crux’s arrival.

The blast of a ship’s horn grabs his attention, eyes widen at the long awaited sight of the majestic ship.

Zhongli spots you effortlessly among the crewmates, mouth slightly parting as his golden amber eyes lock onto yours. You watch as his ponytail dances freely in the wind, his diamond pupils containing mixed swirls of emotions.

Suddenly, you feel like a guilty child who secretly ate candy before dinnertime and turned your head away at lightning speed as you waited for Beidou to park her ship by the docks.

“Excuse me.” Zhongli hurriedly makes his way to where you are, scuffling across the harbour and pushing the offboarding crewmates aside. He needs to confirm that you’re okay. He halts just before the boarding plank, your figure located at the other end of it, standing slightly above him. A wave of intense relief rushed up his head making his vision spin for a second. You’re alright, you’re safe.

“Zhongli,” the worries you held dissipate upon the presence of him, your quiet voice reaching his ears without getting carried away by the wind.

Time is never enough, everytime he sees you, he is reminded of this saying. Never enough time to make amendments, never enough time to love his children and his people the way they deserved it. Time is never enough, but for you, he’ll always make time, as long as he still has the chance to do so, as long as you’re still here, alive and well.

Zhongli is not a man of many desires. The waves brought you back to Liyue, to him. What more to that would he ask for? He has all the time for you.

“I’m back, Morax.” You muster up the courage and break the silence, your words concise and firm. Morax, the name you liked most, also the one you’re most familiar with. You take a step forward, so does he.

“Yes, my child,”A soft smile gently spreads across Zhongli’s face, one that radiates warmth and relief. “Welcome back.”

Zhongli takes another step, his arm reaching out to you and the gloved palms spread open right before you, awaiting.

“Let’s go home.”

This time, without reluctance, you respond by taking up his offered hand.

You’re home.

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[5hrine]

The Sin Sharpener

Originally posted on: 05/27/2022

Something happens the first time you look over a stretch of space otherwise unseen by human eyes. Suddenly, you feel very, very small in the infinity of it. And yet, your mistakes weigh the same.

Every good ship has a Sin Sharpener. It's vital for those who carry regrets.

Shae was the best Sin Sharpener that The Opal had ever known. She'd known the ship longer than anyone, even the Captain. The ship made that clear, too - frequently, its labyrinthine passages lead her where she was needed much faster than it would allow anyone else through. Some days I wondered if she ever grew to detest The Opal for always leading her back to the room where so many bore themselves open to her. Where she felt their pain.

Then again, whenever I made my way to her room, she was ready for me. Every single time.

Shae turned my sins into a knife. It's a beautiful thing, all one length of metal, a knurled handle thinning to a red blade bent just slightly toward my fingers when I hold it.

The sharpness against my knuckle acts a bitter reminder of just how close I am to falling back in.

The knife is the perfect shape to strip wires and core my favorite fruit. I can hear the sound of it against the lip of a glass bottle, the caps seal breaking at the knife's compulsion, the fizz as whatever tonic inside is released.

I've never used it to open a bottle. Never.

Shae weaved Jio's sins into a pair of brass bracelets resembling fingers which squeezed their wrists whenever the memories got too familiar. "They help me to remember the blood flowing through my veins," Jio said to me once, running a thumb over one of the bracelet's edges. "Like wind through a drafty window. Gotta close it up and keep it closed. Or it just keeps on whistling."

Kamea missed the chance to say his words, so Shae blew for him a pen made from glass. He's always writing. Somehow, I don't think I've ever seen his pen run out of ink.

I only asked him once. He said he wrote the things he should have said. The things that cost him in the end.

I once drug a wide-eyed lackey to Shae after it was found she hadn't slept in four nights. Just stared out at the stars until the rest of the ship woke up. She could barely speak by the time I got to her, and collapsed into Shae's room as soon as we got there, desperately asleep. Shae moved with a practiced, careful grace. She stood over the poor girl and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Then, to me, "How long had she been awake?" I hadn't told her I was coming or why. I stuttered. "F-... Four nights. Possibly more, we're not sure." She just nodded.

I looked over Shae's crimson robe, splayed out over the floor around where she knelt. I examined her well-worn hand as she ran it down the lackey's shoulder. In an impressive feat of strength, Shae lifted her to a couch in one corner of the room. I didn't have many opportunities to see this room since Shae and I first met. It was decorated gently in some places and harshly in others - accurate to the work she did here. Her tools, all strange needles of glass, wood and wax and jars of unknowable herbs, hung from the walls. They glowed. My eyes were pulled to the ones she used to draw forth my sin and to smith it into a knife. Her anvil and hammer were half-covered with a silk sheet in the other corner. Their eyes stared back as my gaze lingered for only a moment. I gave Shae a nod and left.

It took more than a day for the lackey to return. When he did, he'd cut his hair short, and his uniform was adorned with a new name: Koa. His face wore something new, too - a comfort and surety of self he'd lacked since joining the crew.

"What'd Shae make you?" I asked him.

"It wasn't my sin that forced me awake," he said, "so there was nothing to sharpen. Shae just gave me the permission I needed to be more... me." There was something more behind his eyes, something between mischievous love and a shyness more befitting how I'd known him before. At first, every time Shae would come up in conversation he'd flush red. Then, they started eating meals together. Slept in the same berth. Walking together. I'm not sure I'd seen Shae smile before meeting him. The change in her was good. In both of them.

The Opal, crew and ship, said goodbye to Shae and Koa a little over a year later. The Captain married them on the observation deck, where so many of us had seen our first stretch of unmapped space and found our need for the best Sin Sharpener we'd ever known. The greatest gift Shae ever gave me was a lesson: The worst regret you can hold is allowing anyone to force you to hide your truth.

Every ship needs a Sin Sharpener. It is vital for those who carry regrets. Thanks to her, and to Koa, that is a regret I will never carry.