#see like pirate is an occupation

[slav-every-day]

[tenpixelsusie]

Pirating is fine!

yar har fiddle dee dee

[qwimchii]

𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘴 (pt 3) — 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺

pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5

𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘤𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺. 𝘸𝘤 — 7.5𝘬

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘸𝘸 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘳𝘯𝘯𝘯, 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 & 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵/𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 (𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳), 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘤 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵/𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨??

note: next part... i liked writing this one 🤭 also for all those wondering: yes the blonde mildly passive aggressive alpha woman is kate laswell <3 i love her with my everything

you rubbed at the temple of your forehead, trying and failing to keep it all together as you watched Simon sew a patch of fabric against a hole in a little pumpkin costume.

biting back a sigh, you fought the heavy frustration on your tongue as you reached over to him, numb to the sensation of your hands brushing against his gloved ones after the past hour of close proximity.

“like this,” you said in an even tone, demonstrating the stitch slowly, and he nodded, taking the needle, looking impossibly small between his fingers, and copied your movements.

leaning back again, you mulled over the day with a bitterness. 

when you pulled into the parking lot of the cafe on smith and wellerstation, you had already been having a shitty day, hands clutched tight around the leather grip of the steering wheel. you had spotted Simon, early as ever, by the front window of the cafe, hunched over and enveloped in black, scrolling through his phone.

for some reason, the sight of him only irked you more. and then it mixed in with that muddled feeling of guilt. or sympathy.

you had realized that you didn’t really know what you were feeling as you stepped into the cafe, a soft chime filling the half-vacant establishment. ordering a drink from a barista at the front counter, you glanced over your shoulder to find him staring back at you, ducking his head a little in greeting.

with a flush, you just snapped your head forward again to pay before picking up the steaming mug on the counter and carefully walking over to Simon, perched in a spacious booth that he easily filled.

you exchanged few words and a sorry excuse for a how are you that boiled down to you look tired and you do too. though it wasn’t unkind, you noted, a bit mournful of the fact that you had seen him three times within one week. two days in a row, no less.

pushing the thought away, you brushed your hair back and sat by him to dive into his first sewing lesson. he picked it up quickly, thankfully, and soon enough he was trying it on his own with a long, charged silence that simmered between you.

then, you had picked up your own supplies and a boy’s pirate costume, restitching the seam along the collar of the costume. 

all was well and silent until he suddenly broke the silence with a blunt remark. “where do you work?”

you glanced up at him with a stale feeling. all his attention was trained on the tiny costume in his big hands, a look of determination pinching his face. you almost laughed at the sight.

“at my dad’s auto shop.”

he nodded slowly. “you fix cars?”

“no,” you said, returning back to the pirate costume, “i do the finances for fixing the cars.”

you cleared your throat. “what about you? what do you do in the military?”

you could see him glance up at you in your peripheral. “it’s classified.”

brows flying up, and your head snapped up to look at him. “really?”

he made a strange noise between a huff and a snort. “no. i’m special ops. sas.”

“oh.”

you gazed into his face, which betrayed nothing, and shifted in your seat. did Simon Riley just joke with you?

for some reason, you felt one-upped in a strange way.

“does your occupation require you to wear…” you stared at his mask. “...masks?”

his brow furrowed for just a second, and he glared down at the pumpkin costume, but the pinched look smoothed away almost immediately. oops. you didn’t mean to piss him off.

“no. i can take it off if you want.”

“no, no,” you spluttered, feeling embarrassed, “whatever you’re comfortable with is fine with me.”

he just nodded slowly, and from the way his shoulders tightened, you could tell the short conversation had effectively ended. you wanted to smack yourself in the face, but instead you just took a sip of your hot drink with a quiet sigh, looking out the window of the cafe.

it was already getting dark in the late fall hours, the street lights twinkling in the night, brown and orange leaves swirling in the breeze across the sidewalk. you jumped when a familiar girl, clutching at her purse, and scot, hands shoved into his sweatpants, were walking side by side toward the cafe, locked in a riveting conversation.

you watched them enter with a half-dropped jaw, their conversation loud, chattery, and bubbly as it filled the now empty cafe. when Sarah spotted you in the booth beside Simon, she waved with an excitement that had your stomach curdling.

you sent her a weak smile back, looking at her, then to the man beside her. they both strode up and Johnny, like always, gave you a, “hey, lass! how you been doin’?”

you withered into your seat. “good.”

you looked to Sarah with narrowed eyes, expecting a good explanation for this… coincidence. Simon had stilled beside you, looking as equally peeved as you felt, staring up at the two of them.

Sarah must’ve sensed the terse energy in the room because she turned between you and Johnny nervously. “i was just looking for you at your apartment, but you weren’t there, but i happened to meet Johnny in the hallway, and he happened to be kind enough to show me the way to where you are, and—”

eyes flitting to Johnny, you tried to conceal the bitter boil in your stomach that spilled out into your face. snitch, you wanted to hiss at the innocent smile on his face, remembering how he had listened with an intensity to the conversation between you and Simon the other day.

then, Sarah dug around her bag and pulled out her phone, waving it around at you with a weak look. “you weren’t responding to my texts…”

you pulled out your phone, scrolling through the notifications, seeing that she had called you twice and sent about ten texts. oops.

you felt a bit more sympathetic for the guilt dripping off Sarah. 

“sorry,” you said, reaching across the table to pat her hand. “i was a bit busy teaching this guy how to sew.”

at that, Johnny’s brows rose slightly, but the look of shock on his face melted off his face as soon as it had been there. you just eyed him with suspicion.

Simon cut in, seeming like he wanted to change the topic of conversation, and said in that gruff, flat voice, “what do you need? is it an emergency?”

Sarah shook her head quickly. “no, no, i just wanted to tell you guys about last minute party plans for tomorrow night. since it’s going to be the weekend…?”

you cocked your head. “party plans for who?”

“for the group,” she said, then added, “but we can invite plus twos. it’s a little fall function at Iris’s place.”

then she gestured to Johnny in a friendly manner and a smile. “so i invited Johnny as well! since he’s your neighbor,” she said, gesturing to you, and then to Simon, “and Johnny’s your coworker! so i thought that’d be fun. right you guys?”

Johnny just grinned at Sarah. for a moment, there was a tense silence, before you exhaled out between gritted teeth. “why didn’t you just text me?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “i did. but i wanted to bring you these.”

she dug around her bag for a moment before sliding a tupperware box of frosted cookies that looked like mini-ghosts.

“a sample for the bake sale. i wanted you to be my taste tester,” she said with a wink, sharing a grin with Johnny, who looked perfectly content with the tense energy of the conversation.

“thanks,” you chewed out, staring down at the sugar cookies. you really were grateful. but with Simon’s presence flush by your side, and Johnny’s eyes darting around the cafe, and flitting over you, you just wanted to shrink away.

“i’ll see you tomorrow then?” she offered, and you nodded, feeling like you were chaining yourself to another death sentence when you said, “i’ll be there.”

Simon nodded beside you, and usually Sarah wouldn’t think it was enough to take that for a yes, but seeming that he barely seemed to talk at all, she gave you both a curt nod of satisfaction before bidding her goodbyes. Johnny gave you a quick farewell, slapping Simon on the back, then turned on his heel and followed Sarah out the cafe.

you both sat in a long unmoving silence, before Simon sighed out heavy and long by your side, taking up the pumpkin costume again. he embodied exactly how you felt, and in a silent truce for peace, you nudged over the tupperware of cookies to him.

he took one, flipping down his mask to eat it before pulling it back up again, and you just returned to your sewing, chewing on soft sugar cookies, a comfortable silence filling the space between you.

it was mid-evening—the setting sun filtering through the foggy clouds above and a teeth-chattering cold falling over the city as you pulled up along Iris’s block. 

all you knew about your fellow group therapy member was that she struck gold in college—married a rich guy and lived in a big suburban home. the kind that had a big pool in the back. the kind that you had always wanted as a kid, but ended up more often than not in your dad’s greasy auto repair shop for a good night’s sleep rather than your own home.

you turned off the ignition, sighing out, and lurched out of your car in slow and sluggish movements, making sure to grab the dish of food you made from the backseat. a childhood favorite that your mom used to make.

walking up the steps, you knocked on the big front door, rubbing at your hands, trying to build a friction between them as you shivered at the front door. when no one answered, you reached out to ring the doorbell when—

“cold?”

you jumped with a yelp, jerking around to see Simon standing a step behind you and his hands shoved into the pocket of his jeans. he still had that black surgical mask over the lower-half of his face, but he was wearing one of those leather jacket with a fur lining that looked military issued, dirty blonde hair strewn across his forehead.

he cleans up nicely, you realized with a dry swallow, immediately shaking the thought from yourself.

“Simon, you scared the shit out of me,” you hissed, clutching at the fast thud in your chest.

his eyes flashed, and you could tell he was smirking under that stupid mask of his. 

“sorry,” was all he offered, reaching around you to ring the doorbell. his chest brushed against your back and you flinched away from him with flushed cheeks.

you both waited in silence, the wind whistling through your ears, and you could feel him curling over to peer at the dish in your hands. stomach knotted, you twisted away to send him a contorted look.

“what?” you asked, eyes narrowed, suddenly defensive of the tupperware family recipe in your hands as you concealed it from view.

he blinked down at you before stepping back, staring sightlessly forward. “nothin’. smells good is all.”

your mouth dropped open to make a dry reply before the front door finally swung open.

“hey!” Iris greeted with a smile, donned in a fine cashmere sweater and leggings, holding a champagne flute. her husband poked his head out from behind her shoulder, wearing a freshly pressed button up and khaki pants.

you suddenly felt very underdressed in a cheap, thrifted dress.

“come on in,” he said with a sparkling smile, and you thought with a bitterness that he must be one of those guys who does stupid whitening strips or something, which was entirely ridiculous because you had tried them once before, but nonetheless…

“thank you for having us,” Simon said, filling in your silence. 

you glanced over at him, wishing you could say that you didn’t need him to speak for you. his eyes flitted over to you, offering nothing but a roll of his shoulders. a motion that you discerned as a dry, sardonic, whatever.

looking back at the party hosts, your brow quirked when you noticed Iris eyeing Simon’s mask warily. and for some reason that irked you.

so you said for Simon, “he’s not feeling too well. don’t want others catching a cold, right?”

she just laughed, airy and long and pinched with unease, waving you off and mumbling something that you couldn’t really hear before she motioned for you to step into the entrance hall. you shucked off your jacket, thanking her husband when he took it, and walked into the house—ginormous and very well-decorated. too well-decorated. like they didn’t even live in their own home.

you hugged your own chest, rubbing over your arms, and startled when you felt Simon at your back. looking back at him, he just slightly raised his brows, before gesturing a hand to step further in the house. you shuffled forward, feeling strangely embarrassed from the close proximity, and followed Iris into the open plan of the living room and kitchen.

there were a lot more people than you recognized in your group, you realized with unease, all chattering loudly as you moved over to the kitchen to put out your dish of family food, taking in the wide-array of charcuterie boards and cocktail shrimp and glasses of pricey alcohol.

a group of men you had never seen before stood in the kitchen, sipping on wine, teeth sparkling, looking trim in ralph lauren and very fit. one caught your eye, sending you a smirk, eyes roaming down your body, then up, before taking a sip of wine.

at that, you bit back a shiver and promptly disappeared into the rest of the people. 

you practically deflated when you looked around the room, immediately noting the absence of the big blonde brute at your back—it seemed that he had disappeared just as fast as you wanted to at the moment. 

instead, you moved from group to group, giving meek greetings to the girls you recognized who pulled you into hugs. most of the girls were flanked by a male that you had never met before, and you would scurry away just as soon as you would greet them, till you finally came across Sarah and Maya… talking with a man you knew.

“i finally found you,” you said with desperation, clinging to Maya and Sara’s sides. Johnny gave you an amused look, sipping at a beer.

you found yourself uncaring for his presence when you asked them, “why are there so many men here?”

Johnny just laughed and Maya patted at your head, sending you a sympathetic look.

“apparently Iris’s husband was in a frat. they’re ex-college friends,” Sarah explained, her face twisting between amusement and pity, before handing you a wine glass from a platter perched on a table in the hallway.  “i would’ve told you if i knew, darling.”

you sighed out. of course. ex-frat boys. your absolute least favorite kind. 

“i know you would have,” you mourned, wrapping yourself around Maya’s arm, then took a large gulp of wine.

“i heard you came in with Simon,” Maya said quietly, sending you a look out of her peripheral. 

you froze at that, hoping Johnny couldn’t hear you when you whispered, “don’t worry, he’s all yours, Maya.”

she flushed deeply at that, shaking you off of her. “that’s not what i meant.”

you made sure that Johnny and Sarah were still engrossed in their own conversation when you retorted, “that’s definitely what you meant. you think he’s cute?”

wholly enjoying it when she avoided your gaze, you wiggled your brow suggestively at her with a smirk. “or do you think he’s hot? you think he’s sexy, huh?”

you nudged her shoulder. “huh? huh?”

she swatted at you and you laughed, taking more mouthfuls of your wine as the strangest lump sunk from your throat to your stomach. sticking by Johnny, Maya, and Sarah, you felt shielded from the rest of the… males in the room. yet you still couldn’t help but wonder where Simon had disappeared to. you ended up finishing two more glasses of wine with a nervous sort of tick in your stomach.

dashing the outlandish murmurs of thoughts in your head, you let yourself get swept away with the events of the evening… drinking, talking. talking and more talking. drinking.

by the time your group moved closer to the kitchen, you were unbelievable bored as you searched around for the familiar blonde brute, satisfied when you saw him sitting on a barstool at the island in the kitchen, a glass of bourbon in his hand and a couple girls you had never seen before chatting with him at his shoulder.

they were obviously curious, you noticed, rolling your eyes, a bit worried for Maya when she eyed the scene carefully.

as you neared the food spread out over the island, you could hear those same ex-frat boys, speaking obnoxiously loud, and that one who had ogled you earlier was poking around at the food—specifically, your food.

he was prodding at it with a fork, exchanging looks with his friends, choking back on laughter when he said, “who brought the granny food?”

you stilled at that, staring at them laughing at the meal you had cooked. 

“isn’t that yours?” Maya asked softly, wide eyes trained on the tense situation at the other side of the room.

when you didn’t answer, Sarah’s face twisted as she stepped forward, her jaw falling open with a pinched look of intent on her face, but you waved a hand at her before she could say anything.

“just don’t,” you said through gritted teeth, embarrassed that Johnny was witnessing the spectacle in silence.

you felt even more embarrassed that Simon, down and across the kitchen island, was staring at them too.

but then he suddenly stood, cutting through the conversation of the invasive girls at his shoulder, and put down his glass of bourbon. “i did.”

the boys down the table fell silent, and the one that ogled you earlier let out a soft oh. Simon snatched a plate from the island and prowled over, towering over the rest of them and loaded up his plate with your food. then, his eyes flit up to yours, dark and murky as he took a bite.

you just closed your eyes and turned on your heel, walked back down the hallway with a mechanic stiffness despite Sarah’s protest. from behind you, you could hear Iris chiding David for being so rude.

you didn’t know who David was, and you didn’t care, till you reached a place in the house where no one else was. a study or office of sorts with big windows and a desk strewn with materials, darker here where there weren’t as many lights, night falling fast.

rubbing at your temples, you tried to slow your breath, pacing around the spacious room. you were seething. Kate would tell you that you were living in a reactionary moment—prolonging a feeling of shock or anger. what really lied underneath that was grief.

or, what you deciphered from the bullshit was that you were being overdramatic. overreacting.

you felt stupid when tears welled up in your eyes. 

there were footsteps nearing the office and you quickly wiped at them, expecting to find Sarah or Maya or maybe even Simon but—

it was Iris’s husband.

“hey,” he said softly, clearing his throat, “i’m so sorry about that earlier. my friends can be…”

a sheepish look crossed his face as he scratched at the back of his neck. “...really stupid sometimes. i’m Leo by the way.”

you just gave him a curt nod, sending him a weak it’s fine, but even knew that you sounded entirely unconvincing.

his eyes darted around the room before he added, “i tried your food earlier. i thought it was fantastic. i’m sick of charcuterie boards and cocktail shrimp anyway.”

you laughed at that, thought it came out flat and dead.

when a silence ensued, he asked you, “is that a family recipe or something?”

you nodded, clearing your throat weakly. “my mom made it as a kid. a family favorite.”

he clasped his hands behind his back, rocking on his heels like he didn’t know what to do with the awkward tension of the room. “oh, nice. my mom used to make tuna casserole all the time. i hated it back then, but i love it now, but i can never seem to get it right. and you seem to be great at cooking and all—”

he waved at hand at you and you flushed, thanking him, before another silence followed. 

then, there was a new flint of curiosity in his eyes as he stepped towards you. immediately, you edged backwards, a new taste of apprehension coating your tongue.

“remind me of your name again?”

you gave it to him, slowly, and clutched at the hem of your dress, tugging it down further over your thighs.

“your name. it’s pretty.”

you practically squeaked, “thanks.”

he shifted a bit closer to you, so you were just an arm’s length from him now, and you shuffled backwards, panicked when the back of your thighs hit the desk.

“and your dress…” he said, staring down at your body for a long moment, before his eyes flit up over your chest and to your face. “it’s pretty on you.”

your voice was much more strained now. “thank you.”

he tilted his head, almost in a predatory manner. “why doesn’t Iris invite you over more? you seem like such a lovely girl.”

lovely girl. your skin was crawling, eyes darting around the room, terrified that the only exit meant walking straight through him.

“mhmm,” was all you offered, skirting to the side, but he stepped forward again, almost closing the distance between you.

his hand came up like he was going to play with the end of your dress, but it stopped just short, hovering over the skin of your thigh.

“i’m going to go back to the party now,” you whispered, a fear eating you inside and out that sent a dizzy, hazy spiral through your mind. you wanted distance from him. now. forever.

he leaned forward so that he towered over you, much bigger and broader when he was this close—

“so soon?”

his fingertips just barely brushed over the skin of your thigh when a thick, rough voice cut through the room. 

“Leo.”

Leo scrambled backwards, clearing his throat as he turned to the person who had just stepped into the room. you almost melted in relief at the sight of Simon by the door.

“your wife is asking for you,” he said slowly, voice low and rough. his eyes were darker now, brows furrowed, and he looked terrifyingly big in the doorway.

Leo just nodded, hands clasped at his back again as he hesitated, head flicking from you to the brute’s gaze that bores into him. “right.”

he strode out the room, not even sending you a glance as he squeezed around Simon who didn’t move an inch, stock still as he stared after Leo.

you almost crumpled to the floor, shrinking as you clutched at the desk for support, legs shaking with effort.

“are you alright?” Simon asked, though he didn’t move any closer to you. the relief in that was like cold water splashing over the panicked heat of your body.

“no,” you admitted, turning your head away when tears spilled down your cheeks.

screwing them shut, you felt a deluge of shame and embarrassment rush over you.

“i wasn’t trying anything with Leo,” you said between sniffles, “i swear i—”

“i know,” he said, cutting you off.

you crossed your arms over your chest, rubbing at your arms as you shook. you tried to stop the shaking, but you couldn’t. you couldn’t stop it.

“you’re shaking,” he observed, voice cracked open with a sort of awe that you had never heard before. maybe shock was a better word.

your breath came labored now, and the room went dizzy, so you slowly skirted around the desk, clutching the wall for support as the floor fell out from under you.

Simon called your name, but it sounded distant and muffled.

“i’m fine,” you said, not able to make out his words that only sounded like mumbles in your ears.

slowly, you slid down the wall, crumpling yourself into a ball and digging your nose into the valley between your knees, a wetness sliding over them from your eyes. you just cried as you rocked, unsure what to do with yourself, feeling like you were going to pass out from the rough breaths that ripped from your lungs.

another body slid down the wall beside you, still far, but their warm fingers hooking on your wrist gently. picking up your head, you shifted out of Simon’s touch, his stoney gaze a marginal distance from your own.

“look,” he said, voice soft, as he put his hand into a loose fist and rubbed in circles over his chest. “like this. calms you down.”

between labored breaths, your arms felt leaden and dead when you contracted your hand into a weak fist, drawing small circles over your chest with great effort.

“it’s okay,” he said, sliding his hand between you across the floor in an offering. you curled your fingers around his hand, your own dwarfed by the sheer size of him, and picked it up to press it to your cheek, feeling cool against the uncomfortable heat on your skin.

in your haze, you realized you had never seen him gloveless before, and his skin against yours felt… right.

you slid his hand over your shoulder and to your waist, feeling his fingers curl around the flesh there, gently tugging your forward, and you let him haul you into his lap, his other arm hooking beneath your knees as he nestled you right into his arms.

he buried you in a tight hold, your cheek pressed to his chest as you continued to rub circles into your chest, trying and failing to slow your breath. you clung to him, a hand curling into the material of his shirt. 

you should’ve felt scared, immobilized by a man like this, but you felt impossibly safe, like his arms were the one thing between you and every other dangerous thing in the world.

“listen to me breathe, love.”

his slow breath was grounding, and you tried to match it, forcing the stutter of your lungs to slow. soon enough, you breath was normal once more, and you pulled away from him, crawling off his lap to lean against the wall.

you wiped at the tears that stained your cheeks.

“better?” he asked, and you couldn’t look at him, nodding slowly.

your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, but your body was light and airy, like it was floating off the ground. like you were living in a different world from your own, mind far, far away from your own body. like you could say anything and it wouldn’t matter in the moment.

“it was one of my dad’s friends,” you rasped, voice raw and sore.

when he was silent, you pushed on, “my mom blamed me for it, but i was just a kid. i didn’t know what was happening.”

“my dad didn’t care.” you took a shaky inhale. “he sucked.”

Simon’s hands twitched by his side. “i had a shitty fuckin’ father too.”

you almost smiled at that, thudding your head back against the wall.

“i don’t think i’ll ever recover,” you admitted softly, your heart dropping into your stomach. “i’ll just hate men forever.”

“do you still hate me?” he asked, and you, without hesitation, said, “no.”

he shrugged. “seems like you’ll recover then.”

you stared into the side of face, for the first time, wishing you could look at the other half of his face under the mask properly. it was like you were actually seeing him now, and just how gentle the warmth of his brown eyes could be. 

“what are we gonna do?” you said with a mirthless laugh, trained on the softness in his eyes, “we’re so fucked up we can’t even function properly.”

you could tell he was smiling under that mask.

“maybe a support group could help.”

you snorted at that, knowing full well in the two years that you had been in the group, almost nothing had changed for you. at least, not until Simon.

he stood, offering a hand that you took, and pulled you up gently. you practically clutched at his side, glued to him as he led you back to the party that had swelled into full swing now—loud, spooky music from the surround sound in the living room burst forth, and into the late hours of the night, even more strangers filled the space. it was loud and rowdy and you resisted clutching at your ears, fingers wrapping around the cuff of Simon’s sleeve tightly as you squeezed between different people.

Sarah and Maya were still hanging out near the island, Johnny nowhere to be seen, and talking to some other girls in the group. when they noticed you, Sarah launched herself at you and wrapped you up in a tight, squeezing hug that knocked the air from your lungs. Maya regarded Simon shyly, edging around him before hugging you, too.

she whispered quickly into your ear, “we wanted to check on you, but Iris sent Leo to apologize to you. did everything end up being alright? did he apologize? he wasn’t an asshole, was he?”

you just grimaced in her arms, patting her back softly. “don’t worry, everything’s fine,” you reassured her, and the relief on her face was shattering, concern melting from her features.

looking to Simon, you half-expected him to slink away and disappear into the crowd, but he stayed flush to your side, hands in his pockets as he watched you.

you made steady eye contact with him, slightly rising your brows in question, glancing in the direction of the front door, and he just gave you a curt nod.

“we’re going home,” you shouted over the loud music, and Sarah was quick to take your hand.

“with…” her eyes darted over to Simon, leaning forward to whisper in your ear, “him?”

ah. you had forgotten that the girls in your group thought that you hated him. or beyond that, just all men in general.

“i’ll be fine,” you promised them, believing yourself for once. “you stay and have fun.”

“if you’re going, we’re going too then,” she said, determined, Maya’s head bobbing beside her in agreement, but you just shook your head.

“really,” you shouted, glancing over to the tall man beside you, who looked as though he wasn’t listening, eyes trained somewhere distantly into the throes of the party, but you knew he was. “i’ll be fine.”

they looked unconvinced but didn’t push you nonetheless. Simon gave them curt goodbyes that boiled down to a nod and a low grunt, and you waved at the other girls from the support group, grateful for their concern as you packed up your food with a wince, avoiding a pair of eyes from across the room—David or whatever his name was. he lifted his glass of wine to you before tipping his head back, downing the contents in a couple quick gulps.

you resisted cursing him out, avoiding making another scene at all costs, as you quickly strode out the house and shoved yourself into your jacket on the way, Simon just steps behind you.

you stepped out into the night, shivering immediately from the biting air against your thighs, and without a word, Simon strung his huge, heavy jacket over your shoulders.

“hey—” you began in protest, but he just casually walked past you and down the steps, sending a look of question over his shoulder.

are you coming or not?

the words went unsaid but you followed him anyway, digging around your bag for your keys and fumbling with them between your fingers once you located them.

once you neared your car, you stopped by the driver’s seat. he waited by the sidewalk, stock still as he watched you.

“i drank a lot,” you said with a grimace, and he just tilted his head.

“i just had a glass. i can drive.”

“no,” you snapped, immediately regretting the force in your tone when his brows just raised slightly. softer, you finished, “i can drive myself.”

he gave you a long look. “right. i’m a woman, and i just had one glass. i can drive, yeah?”

the words were so bizarre coming from him that you couldn’t resist the choke of laughter that escaped your throat, and you tossed your car keys over to him that he caught with ease.

“you fooled me, Simon,” you said with a deadpan, enjoying the way his eyes flickered with a playful gleam in the darkness as you switched places with him, sliding into the passenger seat of your car.

“does that mean i get the aux too?” he asked, voice even and blunt as ever, and you rolled your eyes.

“now you’re pushing your luck.”

you handed the cord to him anyways, and he just glanced at you from his peripheral, and something in your gut told you it was a look of victory. 

you ignored it with a smile you tried to smother. he was always one-upping you.

“fancy smashing pumpkins?” he asked, and you nodded weakly, feeling bashful for some reason.

he scrolled down the playlist on his phone and tonight, tonight came blaring through the speakers. you rolled down your window, reaching over to turn it up the volume more.

“feel like a teenager yet?” you shouted over the music, and he pulled down his mask with an amused look, shifting the gear and pulled onto the road. your eyes swept over the curves of his face with a greediness, taking in the strength of his jaw and tall nose because you were actually paying attention to the details of him for once.

“something like that,” he mumbled back, but his words were lost in the music, falling deaf on your ears because all your attention was trained on the small smile that twisted his lips.

by the time you reached your apartment, you had fallen asleep in the car, despite the blaring music. by the time he woke you with a gentle touch to your shoulder, the stereo was turned off, and you stretched up in your seat, shaking the blurriness from your head and blinking through the sleepiness.

you lurched from the car, stepping up onto the sidewalk in front of the townhouse with a yawn, Simon just behind you.

you turned to him with a weak smile. “thank you for driving.”

he nodded. “‘course.”

your eyes darted around, looking back to the entrance, then to him again, and you fumbled with your words.

“do you want to come inside?” then, you flushed deeply. “i know it’s late but—”

he cut you off, sounding almost uninterested. “sure.”

biting down on your lip, you nodded, turning on your heel and shouldering through the heavy entrance with a twist of your keys, making your way up the stairs and down the hallway by his side.

it was surreal that the same experience had occurred only two days prior, and yet a completely new feeling enveloped it. you weren’t scared. you weren’t anxious. you were just…

you looked back at him from over your shoulder, his bare face on display, and glimmering with a few scars you hadn’t noticed before. there was a silvery one slashing through his upper lip. 

he must’ve noticed your stare because he cleared his throat, looking away, and you pushed through the entrance to your apartment flushed with embarrassment.

flicking on the lights, you were eternally grateful you had decided to clean up a bit in the early hours of the weekend and moved into the kitchen, putting all your things down on the kitchen table. including Simon’s jacket, you remembered, getting embarrassed all over again as you laid it carefully out, careful not to crease the high-quality leather.

“make yourself at home,” you called out, poking your head through the entrance of the kitchen momentarily to see him standing with an awkward stiffness by the front door. you looked down to his leather boots. “and shoes off please.”

you turned to the fridge to card through its contents, hearing a shuffling behind you, before silence. in a last minute decision, you grabbed two beers and a packet of salted pistachios from the pantry.

“want a beer?” you offered, finding him splayed across your small couch, arm braced against the back.

warily, you sat beside him, curling up into the corner of the couch and pulling your dress further down over your thighs as you handed him a can of beer.

flipping the tab of your can open with a pop, the contents sizzling inside, you took a generous mouthful.

“thanks,” he said, blunt, as he popped open the can with just one hand, tipping his head back to down half of it in a few massive gulps, throat bobbing with each mouthful.

your eyes darted away from the sight, the proximity between you suddenly feeling unbearable, but not a bad unbearable, just…

hot unbearable.

heart thudding, you reached for the remote on the coffee table instead, and flicked on the television. it pulled up your tab on netflix and that most recent k-drama you were watching.

with a squeak, you flipped through the program quickly to get away from it, but Simon was too quick.

“k-drama?”

you eyed him from your peripheral.

“yes.” to take off the edge of your embarrassment, you teased, “why? are you a k-drama kind of guy, Simon?”

he shook his head. “i don’t like ‘em.”

your jaw dropped, spluttering, “you don’t like them? why?”

his eyes flitted to you from his peripheral. “they’re unrealistic.”

you rolled your eyes. “and that’s exactly why i like them.”

“have you never dated before?”

you almost choked on your drink, glaring at the side of his face, willing him to look at you, but he kept his eyes trained forward on the tv.

“yes, i have, actually,” you said, indignant. “have you?”

he turned his head to look at you, head tilting as his eyes flitted up and down your body. you suppressed a shiver, confused by the mixed sensations of your body.

“what do you think, love?”

when you were only silent, his lips twitched, eyes flashing with amusement. 

then he mumbled quietly, “i never like the male leads.”

you smothered a laugh, trying and failing to imagine Simon hunkered over in his free time, watching k-dramas on his phone.

“‘cause they’re not you?” you deadpanned, amused just at the thought of it. blonde, tall, and corded with thick muscle. he wasn’t much like any male k-drama lead you knew.

“no,” he said, leaning forward to set his empty can of beer on the coffee table, “‘cause they’re immature.”

your mind reeled at that, recounting the current k-drama you were watching, and finding him not half-wrong. 

“you into immature men?” he asked, voice dry with sarcasm.

mocking the deep timbre of his voice, you shot back, “what do you think, love?”

he huffed a laugh of dismay, and you just suppressed a smile, avoiding his eyes.

“you want to know what i think?”

the question had a dripping burn in it that made your skin prickle, insides sliding around with a foreign heat you weren’t accustomed to. when you just shrugged, feigning indifference, you knew Simon’s attentive stare sliced straight through the act.

“i think you just need a mature man who can take care of your needs properly.”

your whole body shuddered, thighs pressing together and stomach twisting with heat. you should’ve been irked by the proposition, angry with him even, but you just clutched tighter at the can in your hand, voice careful and poised. “and you think i can’t take care of my own needs?”

“no,” he said, without a second of hesitation, “but i think that you want to be taken care of.”

you bit down on your lip. “what makes you think that you know what i want?”

“doesn’t everyone want to be taken care of?” he relaxed further into the cushions, head falling onto the back of the couch, gaze lazy as it traced over you.

“do you want to be taken care of?” you asked, setting down your can of beer, uncaring that the hem of your dress had ridden up from the movement. but he didn’t even look down, half-lidded eyes on your face.

“sometimes.”

“do you want me to take care of you?” you asked, voice a whisper as you leaned forward onto your palm, and he was silent for a long moment.

“do you know how to take care of someone?”

your lips pressed together, jaw clenching. “i know enough.”

he gave you a lazy, lopsided smile. “do you even know how to kiss someone?”

at that, you reeled back a bit. was he making fun of you?

a resolute aching pang shot through your chest, and he blinked, sitting up straighter, like you were both just been pulled out of a heady haze that you weren’t supposed to be in. suddenly, this whole situation felt wrong, and not because you didn’t like it, but because it didn’t feel allowed.

“i should go,” he said, face stoney and voice void of anything perceptible. 

you quickly nodded, squeaking out, “yeah, you should.”

the words should’ve been sharp and cutting but they only came out strained and confused as you watched Simon stand from the couch. 

he strode over to the kitchen, snatching his jacket from the table and throwing it on while shoving into his boots once more. you pushed yourself up from the cushions, hands twitching by your sides.

he sent you a strange look from over his shoulder and jerked the door open with a roughness you didn’t know he could carry.

“bye,” you said weakly, and he hesitated in the entrance.

“thanks for…” he glanced towards the living room, and you sent him a confused look, looking back at the cans of beer and nuts on the coffee table.

“oh,” you said, turning back to him, “no problem—”

but the entrance was empty, and you stuck your head out into the hallway to see him already a marginal distance down the hall. cursing, you grabbed a random shoe from the rack by the doorway and shoved it into the crack of the door, rushing after him.

“wait!” you called, and he turned, slowing as you approached him.

your stomach a fit of nerves, you fisted the material of his nice jacket, uncaring if you crinkled the leather as you pulled him down, and stood on your tiptoes to press a brief kiss to his cheek.

when you slowly lowered back down to the floor, Simon only stared at you with that same stoney, blank look.

“thank you,” you said softly, and he just kept staring at you.

with a deep blush, you released him, and his footsteps were uneven when he turned and almost stumbled down the stairs. you yelped, heart clenched with worry, but he steadied himself against the rail and shot down the stairs with a speed that you didn’t know was possible, blonde head disappearing from view.

you stood there in the hallway for a long moment, fiddling with your dress. what the hell was that?

you gripped at the roots of your hair, suppressing a scream. what the hell was that?

turning and marching back down the hall, you kicked the shoe from the crack, slipping inside. but before the door shut, you poked your head out once more to see if Simon would reappear from the top of the stairs.

when he didn’t, you let out a strangled noise of frustration, and slammed the door shut, promising yourself you’d never let yourself slip like that again. promising yourself you’d never let yourself get that close in proximity to a man ever again. promising yourself you wouldn’t even look in the direction of another one of those things. not ever again. not even for Simon.

your honor... they’re flirting in their idk-how-to-interact-with-opposite-gender-way-bc-of-trauama 🌚 also i feel like soap is such a flat character in this series rn he's just kinda there 😭 but dw he gets more interesting later on (hopefully?)

taglist: @kenma-izhu @actuallyhiswife @froggielottiee @neenieweenie @delaynew @ilovehyperfixating @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @tomorrowseverything @moonlqths @ivybeeloved @babygirl-riley @keiva1000 @arminarlertssword @crowbird @jasonloveclub @karurururu

@embers-of-alluring @newsies-pape-girl @suhmie @amberpanda99@mystsee @cosmoscoffee @hunterofhonor @wawuwe @kunikku @corvusmorte @hearts4sky @aloudplace @justletmelivethanks @shadowdaddysposts @leclercdreams @ayanokomu @thedevillovesflowers @thisuserloveshalloween @soundsfunbutno @enfppixie @tired-bi-ass@http-paprika @xaestheticalien

[irisintheafterglow]

Parley? (opla!zoro x you)

summary: a stranger arrives to disturb your peace and you have no choice but to negotiate with him.

wc: 2.57k

cw/tags: first meeting, swearing, mentions of canon-typical violence including blood and swords, zoro doesn't know how to express his feelings

note: i'm so nervous posting this ngl because i really like zoro as a character but i'm scared that i'm not gonna do him justice since i don't know him as well as gojo or geto or bakugo etc etc etc. hopefully all yall zoro girlies like this because i've been itching to write for him since my explore page became nothing but mackenyu. enjoy!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

You hear the chimes first. The melody is soft, nearly imperceptible to the untrained ear, but you sense it. After all, you were the one who tied the string under the walkway floorboards in such a way that the bells above your window would clink if something pressed down on the wood. Over time, you learned to identify where outside was being pushed based on more strings and bells. It made it easier to find the Lady, on the rare occasion she stepped into open air and you weren’t with her. However, whoever was now setting off your makeshift alarm system had footsteps unlike the usual occupants of the house. The quietness of the notes was unsettling, in a way, because it meant they were creeping around the house. Someone didn’t want to be heard. 

It was the flowers next, the roses with uniquely reflective petals that were especially good at bouncing moonlight precisely through your window. The Lady commented one day in the market that she’d taken a liking to that particular flower, and you bought the vendor’s entire stock to plant around the house once you realized how it could be used. Not before you built a crow’s nest-like window, first. The glass structure jut out of the house in just the right way that you received colors from the left, right, and front of the house. Had an intruder approached from the back, your only blindspot, you would hear the more insistent clicks of the typewriter keys attached to the outside deck panels. The nearly noiseless bells and the ominous shadow sneaking across your wall were enough to snap you wide awake. 

The soles of your feet meet cool stone as you slide from under the covers, wrapping the sheath of your saber around your waist and slipping out of your bedroom. Despite the darkness of the hallway, your legs move by memory to the Lady’s chambers only to find the door already ajar. 

Shit. Were you too late?

Slinking into the room in one graceful stride, words leave your mouth without thinking when you see him standing over your Lady, holding two deadly-looking swords. 

“Taking a life halfway gone is immoral no matter the bounty, pirate hunter.” His head snaps in your direction and you have your blade on him before he can blink, resting the point lightly but threateningly against his throat. His eyes narrow on you challengingly and you put ever so slightly more pressure into your hilt, forcing him to surrender and sheath both swords. The third, you note, remains undrawn on his hip. “No better targets to pursue than a retiree? I expected better from the demon of the East Blue.” His gaze remains unchanging while you step forward, inching him backward until his head hits the wall with a soft thud. You were thankful, for once, that the Lady was starting to lose her hearing and was always a deep sleeper. 

“She’s wanted,” he says in a low tone. 

“She’s withered,” you retort. “Killing her advances justice no more than leaving her alive.” His face is still unreadable, void of any emotions just as the rumors conveyed. Many tales circulated of the infamous pirate hunter, but you chose to believe the Lady to be far too irrelevant to pose any real threat to the Marines. As one of the last known powerhouses of the Gold Roger era, it was more likely her wanted poster would be drowned out amongst younger hotshot pirates than for her to become an actual target. And yet, here was the most feared bounty hunter in the seas, hunting down a myth that many assumed was already six feet under. And for what, fun? 

“It doesn’t matter. Honor is a courtesy denied to killers.” He speaks in a way like you wouldn’t understand his ideas, and it sends a white-hot flash of anger racing through your veins. 

“Ooh, yes. You’re being so honorable by julienning a defenseless old woman while she sleeps.” To your surprise, he flinches, unwillingly bringing your eyes to corded muscle and flexed biceps. It’s a bit of a struggle to refocus on the task at hand. “Enlighten me on how this makes you feel vindicated.” 

“I kill pirates for a living,” he states simply, nodding over to the slumbering mass under the thick comforter. The tip of your sword follows every movement he makes, careful not to give him an opening to strike. Unexpectedly, he seems almost relaxed, like the weapon at his throat was the least of his worries. “That woman is a pirate.”

“That woman was a pirate. She is no longer the ‘Captain Indigo’ you seek.” 

“Who is she now, then?”

“Lady Lavender, adored by her constituents and far removed from a life of piracy. If I weren’t on the verge of spilling your organs on the carpet, I’d say visit the farmer’s market on Tuesdays. You’ll see just how different her life is now.” His chin tilts in disagreement.

“The Marines say otherwise.”

“What do you say?” A minute tilt of your wrist angles your saber so that the point now resides under his sharply defined jawline. “Hmm, hunter? Any opinions in that thick skull of yours or are you just another mindless government weapon?” 

“You understand nothing,” he mutters like an indignant teenager, looking off to the side woefully. It makes your blood boil.

“Try me,” you snarl at the green-haired stranger. In another life, you’d have thought him pretty handsome, if you weren’t so infuriated by his indifferent sense of justice. He knew nothing about you, or the Lady, or what either of you had to endure to create a sense of safety. Safety, you would add, that you weren’t going to give up easily. 

“This woman you serve, what are you to her? A caretaker? A child?” 

“A friend,” you answer cautiously. “Something your line of work would know nothing about.” 

“The Marines know that your friend murdered the former governor and seized the island in an act of desperation,” he informs you with a note of condescension. “They’ve wanted her gone for ten years, and I am here to collect her head. It’s not personal; it’s business.” The incorrectness of his information is laughable, but what concerns you more is the ease with which he talks of taking lives. 

“You don’t feel any sort of remorse for the targets you kill?” The anger in your stomach starts to rub against a different, unwanted influx of sorrow. After witnessing the change in a ruthless pirate empress, you refused to believe a human could be this heartless. 

“I don’t dwell on them long enough to care. Most of the time, they do something stupid that makes it a little easier to dispose of them.��

“And that’s where you’re wrong about her,” you recover, pressing the blade against his skin on the brink of drawing blood. He winces, squirming against the wallpaper for some sort of relief. You don’t budge. “The former mayor was a half-brother whom she reconnected with after Gold Roger’s execution. His death was caused by a misdosage of medicine used to treat hemorrhoids he’d suffered with since he was twenty. On his deathbed, he made her promise to take care of this city...” You inhale, focusing on the man in front of you. His expression is soft, nothing like you would have expected from a feared killer-for-hire. He was actually listening to you. 

“Go on.”

“And to take care of me. I have the great pirate hunter at the end of my blade, so she must not have done that bad of a job at either request.” He’s silent for a moment and you watch the cogs turn in his brain, hoping he’d find some humanity and realize that killing the Lady isn’t just pointless, it’s fundamentally wrong. 

“It doesn’t change the fact that I need money.” Nevermind, then. Backup plan it is. 

“I understand that,” you concede, and you remove your weapon from his neck. His hands are on the hilts of his swords instantly, but he doesn’t draw them. He could kill both you and the Lady in a single swing, but he doesn’t. Maybe you did reach a different side of him. “That's why I’m willing to cut you a deal.”

“I don’t make deals with pirat–” he starts, but abruptly cuts himself off when you raise your eyebrows in expectation. Did you not learn anything from what I just told you? His face contorts in confusion, as if his mind was at odds with what his body was telling him to do. After carefully schooling his expression into blankness, he stands to his full height, rolling a broad shoulder. “What’s the deal?”

“You’re aware of the Blue Ringed crew, yes?”

“Famous for their poisons, I’ve heard,” he confirms and you nod. “They cover every inch of their ship in toxins and wear special clothing to prevent contact with their skin. Makes it hard to sneak up on them.”

“Exactly. See, you’re not as uneducated as you look,” you tease and you feel your face heat when he sticks his tongue out at you. It’s so boyish and immature, in stark contrast to the handsome, god-bodied man that faces you. “I happen to have a counteragent, enough for you to get on their ship and collect three times the amount if you killed us tonight.” 

“And what would you get in return?”

“The sound of your boots walking off the property and never returning,” you whisper a little desperately, pleading with him to leave your perfect peace intact and forget this altercation ever happened. The quiet in the room as he ponders your offer is suffocating save for the gentle snores of Lady Lavender. Eventually, he takes your deal, inspecting the powder-filled vial when you bring it to him on the front porch. 

“How do I use it if it’s powder?”

“Mix it with lotion to help soak it faster into your skin. When your skin is dry, you’ll have roughly an hour to navigate the boat completely immune to the poison. It’s sweat resistant but will wash off with seawater, so take care not to get thrown overboard,” you instruct him, crossing your arms across your chest against the chilly ocean air blowing in from the south. It was breezier than normal and you regret not grabbing a sweater. Unless you wanted to freeze your ass off, you needed to finish this debacle quickly. “Kill the pirates, get your bounty, and leave us the hell alone. Deal?” 

“Fine by me.” He carefully places the vial in the pocket of his pants and begins his descent down the front walkway. Before you can turn back into the house, however, his voice reaches your ears so lightly you think you’d hallucinated it. “Stay warm.” 

He doesn’t end up keeping his side of the deal. A few days after your initial altercation, he approaches the house again in broad daylight holding a box about the size of your hand. You stare at him in disbelief, reading in the nook of your window and he has the audacity to smirk at you when he spots you looking. 

“I thought we had a deal, pirate hunter,” you remind him when you open the front door of the house. It was infuriating how good he looked for having just returned from a pursuit, dressed up in fine fabrics with his hair combed back nicely. The irony was palpable, the situation not unlike the stories the Lady told you about the numerous men who attempted to court her. They appeared at the same front door with flowers, rubies, and promises of devotion, but none of them actually wanted her heart. In contrast, you wanted to stab the heart of the idiot in front of you. 

“Stop calling me that,” he frowns and you can’t help the laugh that leaves your mouth. “My name is Roronoa Zoro–”

“Oh, sorry,” you interject and his eyebrows furrow at your lack of manners. “Am I just supposed to act like you’re my friend now? After you tried to kill my boss?” 

“I thought we were past that,” he states bluntly.

“That was four days ago.” 

“It’s enough time to move on.”

“You’re impossible.” You shake your head in disbelief, slightly puzzled at the giddy feeling in your chest when the faintest smile appears on his face. “What’s that?” You gesture to the rosewood box in his fingers. 

“Consider it an apology,” he says, holding out the box for you to take, “for bothering you the other night.” 

“How chivalrous.” You eye the box warily, still unsure about the enigmatic bounty hunter before you. “But we don’t need nor want your money.”

“It’s not money. Just open the damn box,” he grunts impatiently and you begrudgingly oblige, sliding back the top panel to reveal a bracelet. It wasn’t like any other bracelet you’d seen before, a gold chain garnished with a single deep green emerald barely the size of your pinky fingernail. It was delicate and elegant, subtle enough not to draw attention but luxurious enough to make you feel spoiled. “Do you like it?”

“I do, actually. The color is pretty,” you reply slowly, still slightly in shock. “Why green?”

“Take a wild guess.” He smirks again and your gaze flicks up to his hair. It was just as vibrant as the gemstone and he watched you carefully as the pieces clicked into place. With the bracelet, you’d be forced to think of him every time you looked at it or anything the color green. What kind of guy buys a momento for almost killing you, you had no idea.

“You didn’t need to bring me this. I thought the deal was–”

“I remember what the deal was, but I felt bad making you stand outside shivering while you explained how the counteragent functioned.” Your eyes widen slightly at his admission. He noticed you reacting to the wind, so how intensely was he watching you that night? If he sees your surprise, he doesn’t comment on it and continues to explain why he brought you the gift in the first place. “The powder worked, by the way. I snagged this from the captain’s chambers on my way out.” 

“You stole this because you saw me get cold?” He merely shrugs, clearly unbothered. 

“I mean, yeah. You looked miserable.”

“I was miserable.” He smiles slightly again, the corner of his mouth quirking in amusement. It makes your heart stutter against your wishes. “Does this mean we’re even now, pirate hunter?”

“Call me Zoro and maybe I’ll consider it.”

“You’ll consider it?” 

“Holding a sword to someone’s throat is a major transgression that can’t be forgiven so easily,” he taunts and you roll your eyes. “Let me start over, meet you properly without the involvement of weapons.”

“You really want to see me again?” He scoffs at your question as if the answer wasn't crystal clear.

“What, bringing you a bracelet wasn’t obvious enough? I’ll have to bring the entire ship next time. Might take a little longer to get back to you.”

“Get off my porch, Roronoa Zoro,” you laugh, reaching out to push his shoulder away and feeling every inch of his skin against your fingers in the brief moment your bodies touch. “Don’t come back unless you have something important to say.” 

“I think you’ll soon find out what I prioritize as important.”

[alienssstufff]

your character designs are wonderful!! i always find my character designs one note and relatively "blank"/not having enough depth (like the concept just being "pirate" instead of "__ pirate thats also __"). i really admire the way you combine concepts in a way that really make sense, and incorporate your inspirations in fun and intresting ways. any advice you have to spare on the topic? thank you!!

I meannn you’re halfway there by knowing it’s more than that!

I explained my thought process in a different post-I find by separating components into differing levels of priority and stages that’s helpful.

This pyramid is me explaining the PLAN part of my character design process:

Having Just the Concept figured out isn’t a bad thing either, and sometimes in those cases Theme and character Detail in a design write for themself.

Having a Concept at all is the most important and the baseline for creating a communicative design.

S10!Bdubs as example :]

CONCEPT (primary) — Very basic knowledge about the character through their clothes. Their occupation, the time period they live in etc. Eg: Bdubs is a pirate in a world based off 17-18th Century when pirates were abundant.

THEME (secondary) — Tells us a bit more about the concept. What kind of occupation is it, the character’s affiliations, things strangers/bygones would be able to recognise via logos or cultural symbols… the Semiotics. Eg: Bdubs is (was) a member of a bird-themed pirate crew.

DETAILS (tertiary) — More intimate details about the character themselves by how they wear the clothing as well as accessories/habits that make them Them… Is it proper, what does the presence (OR omission) of accessories tell about their situation, how willing they are to present themselves (whether by accident of intentionally)… the Symbolism. Eg: (see annotations)

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Poop Crystals

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)  

The pace in which human technology progressed over the millennia was rather standard for a class 4 species. Even when accounting the periods of scientific degradation which resulted from natural plagues or religious persecution; it was expected that humans would not achieve advanced space travel until another 2-3 thousand years had passed.

Scientifically speaking human scientists were well more advanced than the society they lived in, but due to the technological limitations of the human race they were held back from implementing their designs. A primary limitation was the lack of a sufficiently powerful power source. They did have many different forms of power generators ranging from solar to nuclear, but to power larger machines often required equally large energy sources. To power their ships alone around a third of their vessels were dedicated to the power cores.   

With these restrictions in place travel between stars for humans often relied on decade long journeys in cryo sleep; which ironically required even more power generators to maintain. Their large size made them easy targets for natural disasters such as space debris or prowling space pirates seeking an easy profit margin at the slave markets. These dangers became a standard for human travel until the Terran civilization encountered the planet Nolla 987 and the species that called it home.

During a long duration colonization trip the human ship “Midas” was struck by the trail debris of a rogue comet and knocked off course. The robotic caretakers tried their best to maintain the course, but with the damage done to the ship their primary programming to maintain the lives of the crew kicked in and diverted the ship to the nearest habitable planet for debarkation. Nolla 987 was the closest planet with a stable atmosphere. Originally charted several years earlier but deemed unsuitable for colonization or industrial expansion, it was not ear marked for either and left alone; until the Midas incident that is.

The landing was not a smooth one. Several engines had been damaged and multiple hull breaches resulted in portions of the ship being shredded away during the entry process. It would be safer to say that the Midas crash landed during the final stretch of the maneuver, but with a 73% survival rate of the crew a rather acceptable crash landing.

One by one the crew and colonists were unfrozen to find the ship a burning wreck and only a handful of robotic assistants still functioning. The industrial printing machines were relatively undamaged but without the ships power core they could not be used to print components or tools needed to make the necessary repairs. The crew was then forced to ration its remaining power supply and divided into two teams. The first team would comb through the wreckage and salvage what they could of the wreck while also building shelter. The second group would scout the surrounding area for anything of use and then report back.

It did not take long for the second team to stumble upon a nest of the dominant species of the planet. An insectoid called the “Sectar” which ranged from the size of a house cat to as large as a two story building. These insects digested their food and excreted the waste into a dense crystalian substance that they then used to build massive hive like complexes.

The occupants of the hive had been driven from the hive by the crash landing of the Midas leaving it almost completely empty save for a few eggs and new hatchlings who were not strong enough to flee on their own. Several of the second team members had been scanning the crystal structures while interacting with the newborn Sectar’s. To quote a journal entry of one of them, “They were like insect golden retrievers. Extremely derpy with at least four times as many sets of eyes. They followed us around on their legs like we were their mothers and clung to our legs when we began to return to our ship for the night.”

At least one of the second team was confirmed to have brought a hatchling back to their camp. There was a debate amongst the survivors on if they should try and eat it, but the notion was quickly squashed as they still had food reserves and no one was brave enough to see how the alien’s bio matter would react inside the human digestive system.

The same human who had brought the hatchling back offered it a portion of food which it eagerly ate. Not long after the hatchling excreted a hardened crystal roughly the size of a thimble. When the human made to pick up the seemingly beautiful gem they recoiled as an electrical discharge shocked their hand. This immediately drew the attention of the rest of the crew who began carefully examining the crystal substance. After some rather rough jury-rigging, the crystal was wired into one of the printer machines and to the surprise of everyone powered the machine. The crew quickly learned that the older Sectar’s would produce larger crystal excrements but were extremely hostile and territorial. Smaller Sectar’s were deemed more desirable for the time being as they were easier to train and harvest crystals from.  

Within a matter of days the crew had not only collected enough crystals to power all of their machines and send out a distress signal, but also used the new found crystal power to create a full settlement on the planet complete with water filtration, crop fields, and a sizeable wall to keep out the native wildlife.

It would not be for another thirty years before a passing human shipped picked up their distress signal and went to investigate the planet. When they arrived on Nolla 987 they were astonished to find a fully functioning colony complete with limited orbital facilities. Nearly every human settler and their descendants had a Sectar in their household that they would take care of and feed and in exchange use their crystal excrement to power nearly everything they needed to live.

From there it was only a matter of time before the entirety of human space was aware of the events of Nolla 987 and the Sectar species. Within the decade the colony on Nolla 987 became the capital for a fully settled world with dozens of cities and communities. The Sectar species were transported throughout human space and began being implemented in all aspects of society.

There was initial resistance to the new power source by existing power blocks which realized Sectar power would be far more efficient than nuclear powered engines, but unlike other power sources they had squashed in development the Sectar power option had thirty years of trial and error to back it up with research as well as a fully functioning model with the planet of Nolla 987.

Sectar’s became a common sight on every human planet and were treated like common pets. It was even studied that when introduced to different food sources the energy output of crystal excrement could be increased resulting in certain food industries booming overnight. The composition of spices, cooking technique, and flavoring became an entirely new and highly prestigious academic field with the most successful of its practitioners being highly sought after by companies.

The technological capabilities of humanity experienced a massive surge in advancement within fifty years to the point humans no longer needed cryo ships to travel between stars. Those who had been studying humanity found themselves now being introduced to them as humans winded up on their doorstep with a Sectar on their shoulder and a perverse obsession with collecting its bodily waste.    

[imagines--galore]

Hey I was wondering if you could write a zuko x reader? Y/n is a water bender working for zuko while he travels(set in the first or second season) thank you !!!

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. Mentions of injuries and such but nothing too extensive.

A/N: This is a separate entry from my other Zukoxoc fic The Thread of Fate. So please do not confuse them to be the same. Also you have to read between the lines to sense the romance. Like really between the lines. Thank you! Hope you enjoy!

You may have be on the ship because of a debt you owed General Iroh, but it didn't mean you had to like any of the occupants.

And by occupants you meant resident Prince Pouty - Zuko.

You had kept your distance at first, keeping your head down and going about your job, but it didn't take long for your patience to snap and you began to talk back to the Prince. All because he just had to be rude to you and everyone else on the ship.

Sure General Iroh had explained the reason behind his behavior, it still didn't excuse him from being so rude all the time. Not to mention brash.

Your skills as a waterbender came in handy whenever he or any of the other soldiers aboard the ship would return with injuries. The soldiers had been wary of your at first, and you them, but in time they had accepted you as one of their own, and would often joke around with you, or seek out your help with an injury or a bruise.

Prince Zuko, on the other hand, had been entirely too stubborn to allow the enemy, his words, to see to his injuries. It wasn't until he had very nearly collapsed from ignoring his injuries, after several run-ins with the Avatar, that he had allowed you to come close and heal him.

Afterwards he had been somewhat civil towards you, and you him. Though there were times when you would berate him for putting himself in unnecessary danger and only coming to you when the pain would be too much for him to handle. He would justify his actions, saying he could handle it. Iroh was usually the mediator between the two of you, always there to make sure neither of you accidentally harmed the other. You had threatened to toss the Prince overboard on more then one occasion.

Funnily enough, he had never ever mentioned hurting you with his firebending.

Your transition from hostile shipmates, to hostile companions was slow-going and took months for the both of you to actually admit that perhaps you both could get along.

Of course, when you had just come to that realization, Zhao had commandeered Zuko's soldiers and ship, to be used to take over the Northern Water Tribe. Iroh had instantly dismissed you from your post, saying your debt had been paid. He had no desire to see you in the hands of the evil man.

Which was why you were now staying at the small inn where Zuko's ship had made its final port. You had no idea where to go from there. You didn't have any family to go back to. You had been saved by General Iroh out of the goodness of his heart. Which was the reason you had stuck to him with the claim that you owned him a debt.

Truthfully you had just felt safe with him, and now?

Where would you go now?

You were so lost in your thoughts, staring at the small cup of tea in your hand that you very nearly jumped out of your skin when the door to your small room slammed open and General Iroh stumbled in, supporting an unconscious and injured figure at his side.

Your eyes widened at who it was. "Zuko!" Your cup clattered to the floor as you ran to help the General lay the Prince down on your bed. A sharp gasp left your lips as you assessed the damage to his body. Burns, cuts, scraps, bruises, gashes. There were so many of them.

"What happened?" You demanded, even as you quickly began to gather supplies. A bucket of water, an old blanket to rip up for bandages and the bag that contained your own salves and pastes to help with the bruising.

"The pirates. They were in league with Zhao and they blew up the ship with Zuko onboard." The man explained, worry for his nephew evident in his gaze as he watched you do you work. Taking a small knife, you quickly cut open the shirt Zuko wore to assess the damage there.

You worked the entire night.

The more serious injuries were healed with your healing abilities and once you had tired yourself out from that, you began to apply the healing salves to whatever small burns and cuts you could find. You were almost out when your patient began to stir.

"Wh-" You reached out to gently grasp his shoulder to keep him from getting up lest he aggravate his injuries.

"Shh....just lie still. You're alright. You're safe." You told him. Pouring the concoction you had steamed a few moments ago, you held the cup to his lips. "Drink this. It'll help with the pain."

For once Zuko made no complaint, as he raised his head just enough to drink the warm liquid. His face grimaced at the taste but you made sure he drank every last drop.

"Your Uncle has gone to get some food. It's nearly afternoon." Outside the sun was high in the sky. Sleep hung heavy in your eyes as your gaze ran over his face. "Does anything hurt? I was able to cure most of the injuries, but I don't know if I missed something." Worry laced your tone as you fussed over the bandages that were wrapped around his forearm.

He pulled back his arm, only to grasp her hand tightly with his own. You were surprised at the strength behind the grip but you met his gaze with your own as he stared at you with an intensity that had never been there before. At least not the kind where you felt your face growing hot and had you averting your gaze after awhile and clearing your throat. His grip softened, allowing you to slip your fingers from his grasp.

"Thank you Y/N." Well that came as a shock. He had never once thanked you for when you treated him. He must've hit his head really hard on something.

Still you didn't say anything, the blush along your cheeks only intensifying as you nodded and cleared your throat. "It was nothing." But it seemed to mean something to him.

Thankfully Iroh returned just then, with food and provisions, and with the way your stomach had been growling, you all but wolfed down the soup and dumplings.

Of course you couldn't ignore the feeling that someone was watching your every move.

You simply focused on the food, too afraid to meet those intense golden eyes again.

[goingsunnythousandmerry]

Hi there! I really like your writing! ☺️ I have a request can I get a Sabo x Strawhat pirate reader please? Thank you! 😊❤️

Sabo X Strawhat Reader @ Dressrosa Fluff and NSFW w/ Sex Pollen

Authors Note: SO… not much in actual canon to set this up, so I struggled a bit. Anyways, here is the Sabo x Reader meeting at Dressrosa. Wasn’t sure if we wanted  Fluff or smut, so figured why not both? Smut is labeled as such. Enjoy. 

Warnings: FLUFF, MDNI, NSFW, Fingering, public sex, p in v sex, finishing inside reader, i don’t own these characters, glove kink

Fluff:

You exited Kyros’ cabin to get some air. The excitement of the past 24 hours on Dressrosa was overwhelming. You were exhausted and yet, the continuing adrenaline prevented you from sleeping.The world outside the cabin was quiet and still. The voices inside the cabin echoed from within the walls, reminiscing about the events of the day. A breeze blew past your face, catching in your hair as it lay behind your shoulders. The air was cool, but comforting. Wanting a break from the voices, you slowly wandered your way up the hill from the cabin towards a large tree surrounded by wildflowers. 

You stopped at the base of the tree and admired the flowers at your feet. Shades of pinks, yellow, oranges and red surround you. The air smelled of a floral sweetness, with a hint of dust from the destruction in the village, just beyond where you stood. A deep orange flower with gold tips caught your attention. You knelt down to pick it up, smoothing your light blue sundress as you did. You brought the petals to your nose and breathed in a sweet honey scent with a touch of vanilla.

Its scent transports you back to a moment at sea with your crew. Sanji had picked flowers from an island you stopped on for supplies. Robin had set them on the table as a centerpiece. Sanji made a big dinner for you all and you gathered at the table for the meal. Luffy, Usop, and Chopper were all doing something silly that made you laugh. Sanji and Zoro argued about gentlemanly behaviors. Nami had to stop their argument by hitting them over the head with her fists, for fear they were going to knock over the table. Franky told you about an invention he was working on that made Usop, Luffy, and Chopper swoon. Brook sipped on some tea and told you about a new melody he had been working on before cracking a bone joke. Robin made a cynical joke in response to Brook’s bone joke, then softly chuckled as Usop screamed in terror. It was the first time you had realized how at home you felt with the crew. Smelling the wildflower, you missed the Sunny. You missed being with your whole crew. You missed home.

You were awoken from your flashback by the snapping of a twig behind you. You quickly stood up and turned to face the cause of the disturbance with a gasp. Before you, stood a tall man with blonde hair and a top hat. He was dressed in vintage clothing. You tensed as your eyes met his. You had seen his picture in the paper and recognized him from Doflamingo’s bounty presentation earlier in the day. However, you were unsure as to whether he was friend or foe  as you knew little beyond his name and occupation. Sabo, Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army, was standing before you, but why, you did not know. You took a deep breath and relaxed your muscles as he smiled sweetly at you.

“Hey. Sorry to scare you. I’m Sabo, I recognized you from your wanted poster. I was just here to see Luffy, but then I saw you here.” Sabo said as he took off his hat and repositioned it under his left arm.

Your body stiffened at the name of your captain coming out his mouth. Your breath caught in your throat as you raced through scenarios. You had read about Sabo, you knew he was tough. You weren’t sure why he wanted Luffy, but you knew he was in no state to fight, frankly none of you were. It was your duty to protect your captain. You clenched your fists and took a deep breath as Sabo fumbled at his gloves.

“What do you want with Luffy?” You asked as you took a step towards the man.

“Luffy?” He said with hesitancy as he studied you. “Luffy is my brother. I’m here to see if he’s alright.” He added.

You gasped at his announcement. Your breath caught in your chest as your mind raced through every story Luffy ever told you. Within them you searched for mention of a brother besides Ace and found nothing. Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared at the kind face of the man before you. 

“What are you talking about? Luffy never mentioned another brother. I met Ace, you’re not him.” You harshly responded with a raised voice as you took another step towards the man.

“He’s dead.” He replied calmly as he replaced his hat atop his head. “Luffy never mentioned me because he thought I was dead. Frankly, I forgot all about him until… Ace…” He paused as his gaze left yours for a moment to stare at the ground before you. “Sorry, I had just got done explaining this to your crewmates. Then I walked out of the cabin and saw you here.” Sabo smiled as his eyes flickered back up to meet yours.

You swallowed hard as the breeze blew your hair into your face. Sabo took a step closer to you and laughed softly. You looked at him through furrowed brows as you tucked your hair behind your ear.

“Luffy always planned to have a tough and loyal crew. I’m glad he found you, Y/N. I’m only sorry I couldn’t have recruited you to join the Revolutionary Army effort first.” He said with a disappointed tilt of his head.

“Me? The Revolutionary Army? How do you know anything about me? How do I know you’re really Luffy and Ace’s brother?” 

Sabo just laughed.

“If I wanted to hurt Luffy, I would've done it already. But, Luffy named his first move gum-gum pistol because he thought his punches were as strong as pistols. He wants to be King of the Pirates so he can be freer than anyone else.” Sabo said as you gasped.

“You on the other hand. I’ve read about you in the paper and heard stories. You saved your country with Luffy’s help. You motivated your people to seek the change they deserved. You have been through the hardships of revolution and come out on top. The Revolutionary Army seeks people like you who are willing to take a stand for their countries. You did it without our help and by doing so, you would’ve been quite the asset to us.”

Sabo stepped closer, now inches from you. He looked down into your eyes. You breathed in deeply, catching his scent as you did. He smelled of ash, vanilla, and pen ink. You broke your gaze from his and looked at his chest. Your hands relaxed from their clenched position and the wildflower you forgot you were holding fell from your grasp.

Pen Ink. You thought to yourself.

You lifted your chin up, so your eyes met his onyx ones. He smiled at you. You laughed as the memory of a conversation you once had with Luffy flooded your mind.

“He did mention you.” You said as you tucked your hair behind your ears and smiled. “He told me I reminded him of his brother once. I thought he meant Ace, but then I meant Ace and well, now knowing he had another. It makes sense now.”

“What did he mean by that?”

“I think because I never understood royalty or the celestial dragons, he said you passionately spoke of the same hatred at a young age. That and I want to travel the world and write stories about my adventures and the world’s beauty. He said you wanted to do the same.” 

Sabo nodded at this and chuckled to himself. 

“Luffy always did have a good way of making people remember and realize their dreams.”

“That he does.” You replied with a nod.

Your eyes returned to lock onto his. His scent was intoxicating. He was handsome in a way you hadn’t seen before. He had scars visible on the outside and one he tried to hide within. His vulnerability about his brother’s made that evident. He was kind and yet incredibly strong, you had seen the damage he inflicted at the stadium. He saw in you something only Luffy before him had seen. You felt as if something within the two of you was pulling you closer together. You couldn’t help, but want to be closer to him. You stepped forward, standing only an arms length apart from him.

“Y/N, Keep him safe for me will you?” He asked as the gloved fingers of his right hand lightly wrapped around your forearm. 

His expression was soft, a small smile of support rested on his face. Behind his eyes, you could see the pain of losing Ace as he spoke of Luffy. The pain of forgetting his family. You lifted your hands and rested them on his chest, his hand fell from your forearm to his side as you moved. His eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat in response.

“Sabo, Luffy has a loyal crew, nothing is going to happen to him. We won't let it.”

“Thanks. If he’s ever in trouble. I won’t be far away. You just have to keep him out of trouble until I get there.” He said as his hands gently fell to your waist. “In the meantime, you think of joining the Revolutionary Army. Why did you join up with Luffy anyway?” He said with a laugh.

His hands pulled you closer to him. He was a stranger just moments ago and yet your love for Luffy and for helping others, made it feel like you had known him your whole life. You felt safe in his arms, you never wanted the moment to end. Your nose wrinkled as you laughed in response to his question.

“Good try. You know Luffy, he has a way of being convincing and now I’m not going anywhere. At least, not until my king says he no longer needs me. Until he helps me see my dream out.” You smirked at him as you replied.

Your expression fell blank as you watched his eyes studying your face. One of his hands raised to your cheek and you lifted one of yours to meet it. Your lips separated as you tucked your cheek deeper into his palm. You licked your lips as your gaze fell from his onyx eyes, to his lips, then returned to meet his gaze. 

You wanted this to happen and yet, his actions surprised you. Your body tensed as he pulled you into his chest and pressed his soft lips to yours. Your hand fell from his arm to his chest. You melted against the warm feeling of his lips and his embrace. You didn’t kiss back at first, too distracted by the sensation of him. A man you met only five minutes ago and yet, nothing had ever felt as right as being with him. The scent of the wildflower you smelled earlier felt like home with your crew. A home full of laughter and adventure.  Sabo’s lips felt like a home of love you’d never known before and you couldn’t wait to experience more of. 

Sabo must have noticed your stiffness because he pulled his lips from yours. His hands fell from your cheek and waist and he took a step back from you. Panting, he raised an arm to rub the back of his neck. He shook his head and tried to laugh it off casually. You stood still staring at him, mouth slightly agape.

“I’m sorry. I got carried away, lost in the moment. We hardly know each other.” Sabo nervously spoke.

“Sabo. You have nothing to apologize for.” You whispered as you stepped towards him.

You raised your hands into the blonde curls at the back of his neck and pulled his lips deep into another kiss. His gloved hands found and tightened around your waist. He pulled your chest flush with his. He nibbled at your lower lip as the passion grew within your interlocking lips. You opened your mouth wider allowing his tongue to enter. It found yours and danced with it. His hands explored your waist and lower torso as you backed your intertwined bodies against a nearby tree. 

“Brrrring. Brrrring.” The sound of a transponder snail ringing resonated from within Sabo’s chest pocket. 

He separated his lips from yours and stared deeply into your eyes, letting the snail ring a moment. Panting from the heat of the kiss, he removed the snail from his pocket. He kissed your forehead and answered the call.

“Click.” The snail said.

“Sabo. Where are you? It’s time to go!” Koala yelled through the speaker of the snail.

“I’ll be right there.” Sabo replied as he hung up the transponder snail and shoved it back in his pocket.

His nose fell to rest flush with yours. He kissed you softly, then took a step back from you. His hands remained on your waist. His expression fell from a soft smile to one of sorrow and longing. Your hands fell to his chest and your fingers curled in his white shirt and vest.

“Guess, I have to go.” He said. “It’s been fun, sorry it was so short.” Sabo said with a chuckle.

Your hand raised to his cheek and he turned his head into the warmth of your palm. His eyes met yours. A smile grew across your cheeks as you looked at him before you.

“I’ll take good care of Luffy for you. Just promise me… Promise me we'll meet again.”

“We will. I’ll make sure of it.”

Sabo leaned forward and kissed your cheek. His hands fell from your waist as he stepped away from you. As he walked away from the tree and the cabin, you wrapped your arms around yourself, missing the warmth of his embrace. Up the hill from you he turned and looked at you over his shoulder. He tipped his hat and a wide smile grew across his face as he nodded his head at you. Then, he walked beyond your view. You took a deep breath and gazed at the moon and wildflower field beyond you. You smiled as you headed back to rejoin your found family in the cabin.

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

NSFW

You exited Kyros’ cabin to get some air. The excitement of the past 24 hours on Dressrosa was overwhelming. You were exhausted and yet, the continuing adrenaline prevented you from sleeping.The world outside the cabin was quiet and still. The voices inside echoed from within the walls, reminiscing about the events of the day. A breeze blew past your face, catching in your hair as it lay behind your shoulders. The air was cool, but comforting. Wanting a break from the voices, you slowly wandered your way up the hill from the cabin towards a large tree surrounded by wildflowers. 

You stopped at the base of the tree and admired the flowers at your feet. Shades of pinks, yellow, oranges and red surrounded you. The air smelled of a floral sweetness, with a hint of dust from the destruction in the village, just beyond where you stood. A bright pink flower with dark red tips caught your attention as it was the only one you could see of its kind among the sea of colorful petals. You knelt down to pick it up, smoothing your black skirt as you stood up. Another breeze blew through the collar of your white button up shirt. You brought the petals to your nose and breathed in sweet honey with a touch of vanilla and a hint of spice.

The scent of the flower suddenly made you feel very warm. You felt a bit out of it for a moment, but were brought back to by the snapping of a twig behind you. You quickly stood up and turned to face the cause of the disturbance with a gasp. Before you stood a tall man with blonde hair and a top hat. He was dressed in vintage clothing. You tensed as your eyes met his. You had seen his picture in the paper and recognized him from Doflamingo’s bounty presentation earlier in the day. You were unsure as to whether he was friend or fore as you knew little beyond his name and occupation. Sabo, Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army, was standing before you, but why, you did not know. You took a deep breath and relaxed your muscles as he smiled sweetly at you.

“Hey. Sorry to scare you. I’m Sabo, I recognized you from your wanted poster. I just came by looking for Luffy.” Sabo said as he took off his hat and repositioned it under his left arm.

Your body stiffened at the name of your captain coming out his mouth. A bead of sweat rolled down your forehead. You wiped it away. Your breath caught in your throat as you raced through scenarios. You had read about Sabo, you knew he was tough. You weren’t sure why he wanted Luffy, but you knew he was in no state to fight, frankly none of you were. It was your duty to protect your captain. You clenched your fists and took a deep breath as Sabo fumbled with his gloves. Your body felt off, sniffing that flower was a bad idea. Something was wrong with it. You felt hot and restless, but you had to make sure this man wasn’t here to hurt your captain.

“What do you want with Luffy?” You asked as you shakily took a step towards the man.

“Luffy?” He said with hesitancy as he studied you. “Luffy is my brother. I came to see that he was alright.” He added.

You gasped at his announcement. Your breath caught in your chest as your mind raced through every story Luffy ever told you. Within them you searched for mention of a brother besides Ace and found nothing. Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared at the kind face of the man before you. You bit your lip as you felt the heat continue to build within you. You weren’t sure what the scent of that flower had done to you, but you had a need and you weren’t sure how to get the ravenous feeling within you to calm down. 

“What are you talking about? Luffy never mentioned another brother. I met Ace, you’re not him.” You harshly responded as you took another step towards the man.

“He’s dead.” He replied calmly as he replaced his hat atop his head. “Luffy never mentioned me because he thought I was dead. Frankly, I forgot all about him until… Ace.” He paused for a moment, breaking his gaze from yours. “Sorry, I had just got done explaining this to your crewmates. When I walked out of the cabin and saw you here, I wanted to meet you.” Sabo said as his eyes glanced to the ground in front of him then back up to meet yours.

You swallowed hard as the breeze blew your hair into your face. Sabo took a step closer to you and laughed softly. You looked at him through furrowed brows as you tucked your hair behind your ear. You closed your eyes and swallowed hard.

“Luffy always planned to have a tough and loyal crew. I’m glad he found you, Y/N. I’m only sorry I couldn’t have recruited you to join the Revolutionary Army effort first.” He said with a disappointed tilt of his head.

Your knees began to buckle and you stumbled where you stood. Sabo ran to you and caught you before you could fall. You blinked your eyes as you raised your head to look up at the man before you. His arms wrapped tenderly around you. His touch felt wonderful, but it wasn’t enough to cure you of this odd sensation building with you. Your lips fell apart and you began to pant.

“Y/N. Are you okay?” He asked as he studied you and held you against his chest.

“I’m fine. Just feeling a little off.” You replied. “Me? The Revolutionary Army? How do you know anything about me?”

Sabo just laughed as he tucked your hair behind your ear. A slight moan left your lips as his fingertips brushed down your neck. You slammed a hand over your mouth and your eyes widened at the sound that had just escaped your lips. His eyebrows raised and he tilted his head as he looked down at your flushed cheeks. His expression softened as he stared into your eyes.

“I’ve read about you in the paper and heard stories. You saved your country with Luffy’s help. You motivated your people to seek the change they deserved. You have been through the hardships of revolution and come out on top.You would’ve been quite the asset to us. Now, Y/N. Tell me what’s wrong. You can hardly stand, you're flushed, is it your injuries?”

Sabo raised his gloved hand to your forehead. You tucked your head deeper into the gloved back of his hand. His gaze met yours again. You breathed in deeply, catching his scent as you did. He smelled of ash, vanilla, and pen ink. You blinked half-lidded as you looked at him. The heat was now between your legs. His scent clicked. Luffy had talked of him before. His scent, you knew what you needed to feel better. You knew what that flower was.

Pen Ink. You thought to yourself.

“He did mention you.” You said as you exhaled. “He told me I reminded him of his brother once. I thought he meant Ace, but then I meant Ace and well. Now knowing he had another. It makes sense now.” You replied as you swallowed hard. 

“What did he mean by that?” Sabo asked as his hands wrapped tighter around your waist. You continued to pant as his eyebrows furrowed.

“I want to travel the world and write stories about my adventures and the world’s beauty. He said you wanted to do the same.” You said as your lips grew into a soft smile.

Sabo nodded at this and chuckled to himself. Your hands fell from around his neck to your chest where they tried to open your shirt wider. Your breathing grew more ragged. You bit hard on your lips trying to distract yourself from the need growing within you.

“Y/N. What is going on? Do you need a doctor?” Sabo asked.

“I’m fine. Just… Did something stupid and now paying the consequences.”

“What do you mean?

“I sniffed a pretty flower… and well… turns out it was full of sex pollen.”

“Sex pollen?” Sabo’s eyes widened and his jaw clenched. “You… you…”

“I feel like I’m going to die unless I do something… So it’s been nice meeting you and all, but I can’t take this anymore. I need to go get some relief.” You replied trying to pull yourself from his embrace.

“How?” He asked, gripping you tighter. 

“I don’t know. I’ll have to use my fingers. I don't know. Sorry. You didn’t need to know.” You replied as a pink hue fell across your cheeks.

“I’ve heard about sex pollen… Is that going to be enough? You look terrible. I mean you’re beautiful, but you look. I’m worried about you.” He responded with a hard swallow. 

You laughed as you squeezed your legs closed beneath you. You licked your lips and tried to breath through the need growing in your core. You looked down at his chest as his eyes continued to stare into you with concern.

“It’s all I have, so it’s going to have to be… unless.” You said as you lifted your eyes to meet his.

Sabo swallowed hard again as he forgot how to breath. He exhaled quickly as you licked your lips and pulled yourself deeper into his chest by gripping tightly onto his shirt. Sabo took a deep breath as you began unbuttoning your shirt. Your eyes kept darting between his onyx orbs and his sweet pink lips.

“Sabo. Please. Help me. Fuck me. I can’t take this.”

“Are you sure?” Sabo questioned, with widening eyes and a head tilt as his mouth hung agape.

He licked his lips and looked up and down your body. You nodded as you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck. His eyes met yours and he tucked a stray hair behind your ear. His hand caressed your cheek as he gently pressed his soft pink lips to yours without wasting another second. His kiss deepened and he pulled you closer to him with a tight grip around your waist. He bit your lower lip as your fingers entangled in his hair. You opened your lips allowing his tongue to intertwine with yours. His hand on your cheek fell to your waist. As the two of your lips continued to intermingle, Sabo slowly walked forward, still kissing you, until your back was flush with a nearby tree.

One of Sabo’s gloved hands fell from your waist and began stroking up your outer thigh, stopping at the hem of your skirt. From there, his gloved fingers danced across your skin at the hem of your skirt until they found your inner thigh. His lips parted from yours and nestled against your jaw bone. You panted and moaned as his lips nibbled down your jaw and neck. One of your hands left his neck. You placed your hand on your chest near your collarbone where your finger trailed down your cleavage until they reached the buttons of your blouse. One handed, you began unbuttoning your top as Sabo’s hand traveled further up your skirt. 

As you exposed your chest, your breast still held inside by a black lacy bra, Sabo’s teeth found your collarbone, causing you to moan out his name. His gloved hand from your waist found yours and brought it to his chest. Wet kisses sloppily painted your chest until Sabo released your breasts from the fabric cups they were held in. Sabo’s lips backed away from your chest as his eyes met your hard buds in awe. His eyes glanced back up to meet yours. A smile grew across his face as his hand beneath your skirt found your clothed, wet core. Your breath caught in your throat as he teased you through the cloth between your legs. You swallowed hard as you stared at the man before you with need.

“Sabooo.” You moaned. “Please.” You begged.

Sabo chuckled softly, then pulled back the fabric between your legs. His fingers traced up and down your slick several times before stopping at your bundle of nerves. His middle and third finger played with your clit as his lips crashed against yours, to suppress your moan. Heat built in your stomach as his fingers ran different shapes across your clit. Sabo’s lips left yours. His wet tongue began lapping at your hardened nipple as his hand between your legs returned to intensely tracing your slick folds. Without a warning, his middle and third finger entered you. They scissored in and out of your entrance as his teeth met your nipple. Your head fell back against the tree and you moaned as he continued to play with you. Your grip tightened in his hair and his clothed chest. Sabo’s gloved fingers curled within your core and found your g-spot as his tongue flicked your nipple.

“SABO. Yes. That’s it. Don’t stop.” You moaned.

Sabo’s lips pressed against your hard bud sweetly and his fingers left your entrance. He stood tall and his eyes met yours. Your eyes widened as you raised your head from the tree to meet his gaze. The two of you panted looking at one another. A smirk grew across his face.

“Why did you stop?” You desperately begged.

“Thought you wanted me to fuck you? You said your fingers wouldn't be enough? May I?” He asked with an eyebrow raise.

You nodded and bit your lip. You breathed raggedly as you watched the man before you undo his belt buckle and unzip his pants. He dropped his pants and briefs to his ankles, causing his length to spring out against your exposed abdomen. Your tongue lathered your lips as you, drunk with need, stared at his large girthy cock. His length was dripping with pre-cum. As you watched, panting in need, he pumped up and down his veiny length a few times, spreading the substance down his shaft. His eyes raised and met yours. 

While staring at you, he used a gloved hand to spread your legs further apart and pull down your panties. He reached for your right calf and raised it up to his waist, so your leg was bent against his side. As he held your leg against himself, his other hand grabbed his length and brought it to trace the lines of your slick. Your eyes shut and you moaned as his tip teased your clit. Your fingers danced up his clothed chest until they found his neck. You pulled him towards you until his lips were passionately locked against yours. Sabo lined himself up with your entrance and slowly dipped his tip in, causing you to moan. Your head fell to his shoulder as he pushed himself in slowly, inch by inch. Sabo moaned as you clenched around him.The two of you paused to catch your breaths and stood still a moment allowing your bodies to adjust to their newfound intimacy.

“You fill me so well, Sabo.” You moaned.

“You’re so tight for me, Y/N. Are you ready for more?” 

You nodded and bit your lip as Sabo’s length backed out of your entrance. His grip on your leg and waist adjusted. His lips rested in front of yours, but didn’t touch. You moaned as his length slammed back inside of you. He pumped in and out of you, gripping your leg tighter and wider to get deeper in you as he entered in and out of you. His length perfectly hit your g-spot as he pounded you against the tree trunk. The heat built in your core again as a breeze blew past you hitting your exposed nipple. You moaned. Sabo tucked his head into your shoulder and clenched his teeth. He thrusted in and out of you more fervently, balls slapping your ass.

“Yes. Sabo. YES!” You screamed as your head fell back against the tree.

Your hands clawed at his clothed back as he raised your leg higher and wider allowing his length to slam against your cervix. Tears welled up in your eyes and drool dripped down your chin as Sabo slammed in and out of you harder and faster. His hot breath hit your nipples as he panted against your chest.

“Almost there, Y/N. Finish with me.” 

You nodded against him, unable to form words as the heat within you grew and grew. Your eyes rolled back in your head as his length continued to pound against your cervix. He thrusted into you again causing you to clench around his length. His length twitched within you, sending you over the edge. Sabo moaned against your collarbone as you felt warmth fill your entrance. Your legs shook against his body as your juices mixed with his between your legs.

“SABO.” You moaned as your eyes rolled back.

Sabo and you stayed interconnected for a few moments, just trying to catch your breaths and process the rush of the last few minutes. You petted the back of his head as he laid against you. As his head rose from your chest, he kissed you and pulled his length from between your wet entrance. You smiled against his lips as his hand caressed your cheek.

“Feel better?” He asked as his lips left yours.

“Much. Can I ask for a repeat?”

“Brrrring. Brrrring.” The sound of a transponder snail ringing resonated from within Sabo’s chest pocket. 

“Shit.” He muttered. 

One of his hands returned to your waist as his other removed the snail from his pocket. He kissed your forehead and answered the call. You stared at him, still trying to catch your breath. 

“Click.” The snail said.

“Sabo. Where are you? It’s time to go!” Koala yelled through the speaker of the snail.

“I’ll be right there.” Sabo replied as he hung up the transponder snail and shoved it back in his pocket.

 Your hands lifted to his chest as he redressed himself and buckled his pants. You stared at him with longing as his head turned for his eyes to meet yours. You had just met Luffy’s long lost brother, but you knew after this, you’d never forget him. You were already looking forward to your next meeting.

“Guess, I have to go.” He said. “It’s been fun, sorry it was so short.” Sabo said with a chuckle.

Your hand raised to his cheek and he turned his head into the warmth of your palm. His eyes met yours. A smile grew across your cheeks as he buttoned your top and fixed your skirt and panties. He gently pressed his lips against yours and tucked a few flyaway strands of hair behind your ear.

“I’ll take good care of Luffy for you.”

“I know you will, and in return, I’ll give you a repeat next time we meet.” He replied with a wink.

Sabo leaned forward and kissed your cheek. His hands fell from your waist as he stepped away from your embrace. He turned and walked away from the tree and the cabin. You wrapped your arms around yourself, missing the warmth of his embrace. Up the hill from you he turned and looked at you over his shoulder. He tipped his hat and a wide smile formed across his face. He nodded his head at you and walked beyond view. You took a deep breath and gazed at the moon and wildflower field beyond you before heading back to rejoin your found family in the cabin.

[corpsebasil]

Second in Command Part 2 18+

part 1

The entire crew had gone off to a tavern when you docked, the workers at the pier saying that the upkeep to the ship would only take a couple of hours. So you found yourself slightly drunk, watching Tolya and the Sun Summoner’s tracker friend as they linked arms and danced around, laughing and singing along to the rather raunchy bar song the occupants sang.

“How do you think he managed to get that hat?” Nikolai asked against the shell of your ear, eyeing the pirate hat that sat on the prized Grisha’s friend’s head.

“Beats me. At least it covers his lack of hair from my sight.” You shivered comically and Nikolai let out a boyish laugh, tightening his hold on you.

Your captain and you leaned together against the wall, your back to his chest, and you would be lying if you said the way his fingers ran softly back and forth against the slip of skin revealed by your shirt, his hand running across your midriff, was unpleasant. You almost jumped when his hand slipped completely under your shirt, palm resting flat against your lower stomach and tugging you closer to him.

“People are going to stare.” You whispered, but blushed when he propped his chin on your head, his eyes closing blissfully at the feel of you. He’d wanted this for weeks, had wanted to hold you since you’d shamelessly put him in his place days after you met, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to bask in every second of touching you that you allowed.

“Let them stare.” He said, and his other arm wrapped around your middle, holding you tight.

“You two,” a female voice said, and his eyes opened to see Tamar approaching with a glass of red wine in her hand. The rest of the crew had been drinking piss poor ale, but somehow you and Tamar had been mainlining vodka sodas and wine like it was your job. “are fucking adorable.”

“Don’t fuel his ego,” you quipped, and his smile grew when your hands came up to hold his arm, settling even closer into his chest. “it’s big enough as it is.”

Tamar’s head shook and she raised her glass in a gesture that meant cheers, before she tossed you a wink and moved to hunt down her brother and stop him from embarrassing her more than he already had.

“Want to get out of here?” Nikolai asked, removing his hand from your stomach and turning you in his arms, pulling your chest flush against his.

“And do what, Captain?” You teased. Saints, the drinks must’ve gone straight to your head. Just last night you had been adamant about keeping the two of you a secret, and now you were draped against him in front of the entire crew.

He grinned lazily, leaning in to brush a chaste kiss against your mouth.

“If I recall,” he said, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “you owe me a lingerie viewing.”

“A fashion show, perhaps? Try on my favorite sets and parade them in front of you?”

“It’s been my fantasy for months, darling.”

You giggled stupidly as he smiled, his gorgeous, gorgeous face only a few inches from yours, then yelped when he scooped you up bridal style and bid a loud, careless Goodnight to the crew. Your face turned red when someone wished him luck, riotous laugher echoing around the tavern, but your embarrassment faded the moment you two moved into the night and he set you on your feet.

“Ignore them.” He said, rolling his eyes at the tavern door, and then kissed you, your skin burning as you forgot to be ashamed at being so obviously on your way to his bed.

-

To Nikolai’s dismay, the lingerie fashion show did not end up happening. Instead, he watched from his bed, expression twisted in embarrassment as you snooped around his room, lingering by his bookshelf.

“Oh my god, you’re nasty.” You cackled, picking up a novel that he’d finished only a week ago. “‘Edmund’s mouth moved down her neck, licking and sucking her unblemished skin before his lips closed around her ni—‘”

“That’s enough, thank you.” Nikolai sighed, face red. You’d been reading bits from his rather interesting book collection for over five minutes now, your smile growing wider and wider as you scanned the pages, somehow managing to find the filthiest chapters and completely ignoring the very romantic parts. “It’s a love story. They’re in love.”

“You’re just as dirty as I am, Captain.” You laughed, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively. “Oh wait, I think I’ve read this one.” You picked up another book and cleared your throat, ignoring him when he climbed out of bed and strode over to you. “‘Meredith let out a loud moan when the prince—‘”

“End it. Please.” He groaned, yanking the novel out of your hands and pulling you towards his bed.

“I think she says those exact words about a paragraph down.”

“If you don’t stop, I’m not fucking you. I’m going to make Tamar my second, and you can swim with the fishes.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would dare. Try me, sweetheart.”

You grinned as you shoved him down and straddled him, pushing his coat off his shoulders. He shrugged it off, tossing it carelessly aside, then tugged your mouth down to his. He let out a soft groan when your fingers slipped into his hair, your nails scratching lightly.

“Shirt.” He mumbled, reaching for your hem. “Off.”

Your head spun as you obliged, letting him run his hands up your smooth back and waist. He looked down at you admiringly before removing his own shirt, and you almost choked at the sight of him bare in front of you.

“Saints, how many push-ups do you do a day?” You grumbled, one brow raised, and he let out a soft laugh.

“Would you believe me if I said I’m naturally this stunning?”

“Yeah. Sure.” You lied, then squeaked when he rolled you over, pinning you under him as one hand moved to your pant buttons. Your heartbeat quickened, faster and faster as he slid your trousers off and tossed them to the floor. But when his fingers hooked into the sides of your underwear you shot up, grabbing his wrist. “Wait, um—” You swallowed. “Before we do anything, I haven’t..” You looked away, embarrassed, and cringed a bit when Nikolai moved off the bed.

“Y/N,” he said, voice soft, as he slipped his own pants off and turned the lights out, climbing under the covers. “get in bed with me. It’s fine.”

“I’m nervous.” You admitted, cheeks heating at the gentle expression on his face. Why did he have to look so sweet when you were confessing something so lame. But you moved under the blankets, allowing him to kiss your mouth, then your forehead.

Then he moved your back against his broad chest, both arms around your waist as you settled up close to him, your head resting against the curve of his shoulder. His lips brushed your hair when he spoke, the sensation making you shiver.

“I’m going to go slow.” He murmured, and your stomach twisted at the roughness of his voice. You swallowed and nodded wordlessly, feeling him adjust enough to slide yours, then his, underwear off the two of you. “I need you to curve into me a bit more.” He said, running a hand over your bare hip, and you gasped a bit when you felt him against your entrance.

He made no move to push inside you, only massaged the skin at your hip and upper thigh, turning his head so that he could place soft kisses onto your neck. And when his hand wrapped around your front and gently stroked you, you almost whined.

“It might be uncomfortable. At first.” He told you, gathering your wetness onto his fingers as he gently worked them inside, getting you adjusted to the feel of it. You’d done this to yourself before, but his hands were bigger, and the stretch made you gasp and press your face against his arm. “You feel fantastic.” He sighed, curling his fingers deeper, and you let out a soft moan of pleasure.

Nikolai gritted his teeth, wanting nothing more than to slam up into you, but took his time like he’d promised, working you closer and closer until you were trembling, grinding against him, mumbling his name against his skin. He circled his fingers against the most sensitive part of you, closing his eyes and biting back a groan when you came, your face pressed against his shoulder as you gasped his name.

When you’d gotten your breath back he kissed your neck again, his hand still rubbing that spot. You whined and wriggled away, letting out a noise of complaint, and he huffed a laugh.

“Nikolai,” you mumbled, turning your head to kiss his arm. “I want you.”

Those words might’ve been the best things you’d ever said to him. So he looped his arm under your thigh, keeping your back to his chest as you curved against him, and slowly pushed the head of him inside. You gasped and squeezed your eyes shut, practically panting as his other hand continued to rub slow, soft circles against your skin, and he pushed forward inch by inch, letting you adjust.

Once he was fully inside, hips flush against your back, you slowly gasped for air, the feeling of complete and utter fullness making breathing difficult. He kissed your neck and ran his thumb over your leg, whispering to you as he pulled out and slowly, so slowly, moved back in.

“You okay?” He asked, voice sleepy and soft as he moved. You could only sigh, rocking back against him as he kept up a languid, gentle pace, every stroke making his head spin and his chest tighten. “Saints, you feel—” he groaned and pressed his forehead against your neck, increasing his pace by a degree, earning a noise from you that made his blood pressure rise.

“Nik,” you breathed, gripping his arm. “want you…on top of me.” Your voice was strained as he pulled away and moved over you, thrusting back in with enough force to make you gasp, your nails digging into his back. “Nik.”

“Y/N.” Was his weak response, and you took his face into your hands, kissing him sweetly. It took every ounce of composure to hold back but, when he felt you tremble underneath him, your grip tightening on a whimper, he broke, biting back a groan as his mouth sucked on the skin of your neck.

You laid there in the silence, both catching your breath, before you finally calmed, running your hands through his hair and over his neck and back.

“That was—” Nikolai swallowed and pulled away, rolling over and closing his eyes for a moment. “Good gods, Y/N.”

“Mhmm.” You mumbled sleepily, turning on your side to wrap around him. He was so warm, and his body was perfect, and you felt yourself slipping into a dream filled trance as his lips kissed the top of your head.

“My love.” You heard him sigh, and your heart warmed as you finally fell asleep.

-

The next morning, after showering and washing up, you slipped on one of Nikolai’s oversized shirts and headed down to breakfast, running a hand over your tired face as you went. He was already seated at the table, boot propped up on the chair beside him, and you smiled shyly when he moved his leg at your approach.

“Good morning, darling.” He said, eyes sparkling with mischief as you walked over to him. “And whose shirt might that be? He must be devilishly handsome to win your heart.”

“Yours.” You murmured, still feeling half asleep, and didn’t truly consider what you were doing before you gave him a soft kiss and sat down, propping your head against his shoulder. Lord he smelled good. You made a mental note to make sure his cologne was constantly stocked from now on.

He looped an arm around your waist immediately, going back to his conversation with Tolya, but the man could only gape at his captain and friend in surprise.

“When did that happen?” He asked, pointing to the both of you, and your face warmed.

“I’ve been telling you this for weeks.” Tamar argued, shooting you a grin. “Idiot. For a hopeless romantic you sure can’t recognize it when its under your nose.”

“I find romance to be more noticeable when it’s under you.” Nikolai teased, earning a pinch from you in response. “Woman, don’t injure me. I’m fragile.”

“Sure you are.” You grinned, allowing him to pull you closer into his side, and your heart softened further when he pushed his plate towards you and offered you some of his own breakfast.

Hello hellllllooooo ladies and gentlemen I hope you liked this one! Make sure to send me the nastiest filthiest most horrendous requests you possibly can because I am up for it!

Also if anyone has some comedic plot lines I’d love to flex my skills at humor thank you and goodnight <3

[l0n3ly-gh0st205]

Child!reader meeting/ joining the white beard pirates

A/n: Is this a little bit all over the place? Yes. Do I care? No❤️ I got so much love for my previous writing, so I added some more! Giving specific love to the white beard crew ❤️❤️

-ft. Portagas D. Ace, Marco the Phoenix, thatch death

-TW: spoilers for ace’s introduction to the white beard pirates and thatches death, hints of abandonment, yelling, and not much but a little bit of angst in Ace’s section.

-

[■□□□□□□□□□] 10%

☆꧁༒Ĺoading. . .༒꧂☆

[■■■■■■□□□□] 60%

☆꧁༒Ĺoading. . .༒꧂☆

[■■■■■■■■■■] 100%

☆꧁༒Complete༒꧂☆

꧁ head cannons ꧂

You were probably found when you were still an infant, so you have no memory of your life before the crew

They probably say something like you magically appeared in a barrel or one of thatch’s botched recipes spurred you into existence if you ever go around asking questions about it

They want to keep you happy so you don’t doubt your familial bonds

But of course, watching one of your brothers kill your other brother over a weird-looking fruit probably put a damper on that :)

Marco remembers the freezing wind of that faithful day, the ocean breeze picking up shards of ice as a seemingly normal ration run with his friend turned into meeting the youngest member of their crew.

A loud bang shook Marco out of the memory as his head swirled to the door. The familiar childish screams and laughs at least hinted that the noise wasn’t causing pain; he couldn’t help but smile.

It’s been five years since that winter storm, and although the phoenix hated the cold more than anything, he couldn’t help but be glad for that storm.

Thatch stumbled on a hidden branch covered in snow. Marco grabbed his arm before glaring at the other man

“We had to come during the middle of winter-yoi?” He snarked for the umpteenth time since the two got caught in the storm. Thatch huffed and rolled his eyes “bug off bird brains; they’ve got the best beef in the west blue!” He snapped. The two came upon a rushing river, and thatch groaned, nodding towards the rubble of a bridge that once stood

“Seems the ice and rapids took out the bridge, be a dear big bird and Carry me over?” Thatch slid a sly smile to Marco, who rolled his eyes “you always boast about your ability to swim yoi-“ the rattle of wood cut off Marco's comment, and the two commanders glanced over at the bridge, noting a small box that was caught on some rubble, the two watched as the box shook against the tide leering to the side causing the freezing water to slip into the box. The cold caused the young occupant in the box to let out a blood-curdling scream causing both of the men to tense.

“It's open,” Marco responded to the gentle taps on his door. It opened with a protesting squeak, and the young child peeped their head around the corner

“Big brother! Ace is being mean to me-” the child pouted, causing the old doctor to chuckle “(Y/N), what did you do now yoi?”

“Did nothin'! Promise!” they huffed, sending a glare toward the doctor “it's all Teaches fault! He told me lunch was ready and to go wake up ace!” Marco hummed, resting his chin on his hand, “and, let me guess, you decided to wake him up by tickling him, yoi ?” he couldn't help but smile at the way they puff out their cheeks while muttering a small ‘maybe.’

Marco got up from his seat and gently ruffled the youngster's hair “come on, let's go see if thatch can whip up some food to help soothe ace yoi,” he said with a smile, gently pushing the younger out the door

“Okay!” they called out and started running down the hall, leaving the old man behind to wallow in his sentimental ways with a smile.

After first getting brought onto the ship you know damn well these men didn't know how to care for a baby-

I can just imagine them trying to feed you by offering you a giant turkey leg 💀

Since Marco stayed on the ship most of the time, he was your number-one babysitter. It would have been pops, but he was so nervous that he’d hurt you cause you're so small :(

If Marco couldn't, then thatch would be the second-best person; he’d keep you in the kitchen so you didn't get into too much trouble

Thatch and Marco were there for most of your significant milestones, and we’re always quick to share it with the rest of the crew

Thatch stared down at the carnage that graced his kitchen. Plates were broken and strewn on the floor; his delicate fresh vegetables smushed and drooled on. He turned to the rather cute culprit. Who was asleep on the tile floor, red hands from smoothing the tomatoes, holding an eggplant as a pillow.

Thatch pinched the bridge of his nose, suppressing a scream. He looked back at the sleeping toddler and gently picked them up, stirring them from their slumber “so- what do you have to say for yourself?” He grumbled.

The baby in his arms just smiled and lazily babbled at him, mouth full of baby teeth and eyes sparkling with more stars than the night sky; really, how could he stay mad at this adorable creature? The cook smiled at the child’s nonsense, and the baby reached up for him, dirty hands smearing tomato juice all over his white collar, and he rolled his eyes

“Alright, alright, you little demon, let’s get you cleaned up before you make even more of a mess- of course, you start crawling when I’m not looking-“ the chief mumbled and headed for the bathroom. He ran the warm water and gently placed the toddler down in the water, making sure he cleaned off any remaining mess from their skin.

Ace was a different story.

Im not saying fuck canon time line… but-

The ex-captain of the spade pirates infamously wanted nothing to do with the white-beard crew.

Despite his multiple murder attempts- the youngest member of white beards crew always seemed to follow him around like a little duckling

Did it remind him of his little brothers? Yes. Was he going to admit that you were adorable and could do no wrong in his eyes? …maybe-

Look all I’m saying is-

Ace: *sees a small child* big brother mode A C T I V A T E D.

Ace sat against the railing of the Moby-Dick, twiddling his knife in his hands as he thought of his latest ploy against White-beard. He could feel eyes burning into his side, which he pointedly ignored.

The boy let out a sigh; that brat sure was relentless- he hesitantly raised his eye, meeting the gazes of the crew's youngest member. They let out a soft squeak before ducking behind the corner they used for cover. Ace narrowed his eyes as he huffed out his nose, sliding his knife back into his carrier

“Leave me alone, brat,” he muttered, but the startled gasp was enough that he knew his message got across, the child hesitantly stepped out from behind the corner, and a pang of guilt stabbed through ace’s chest- the kid couldn't have been older than 10. He watched as they seemed to look for their words

“Um… big brother… Marco wanted me to make sure you were, um… you were okay…” they hesitated, looking over aces face and waiting for a reply.

Ace couldn’t help but scrunch his nose in irritation “im not your big brother.” he stated, pointedly rising from his sitting position and starting to walk away. The young pirate gasped and quickly followed after him “b-but gramps said you joined the family-” the child worried their lip between their teeth, recalling macros words

“Be patient,” Marco hummed as (y/n) excitedly swung their legs in their chair, “but I wanna meet my new brother!” they almost whined, pulling a chuckle from the doctor. “In time, Ace is... Let's say having a hard time adjusting to the family.” Marco turned and ruffled his younger siblings' hair. “Think of him like a cat; he isn't comfortable yet; he might bare some claws, yoi.”

(y/n) pushed their bottom lip into a pout, “but he’s my brother- brothers don't hurt each other!” Marco gave them a weary smile “all im saying is just be slow.”

Ace’s scoff of disdain pulled them from their memory, and they stopped, almost slamming right into his leg “im not a part of your stupid family!” he yelled, taking the younger pirate aback

In all the trouble (y/n) had gotten into, they had never heard anyone yell at them with such anger. They bit their lip roughly, holding back the welling emotions as their eyes pricked with tears. They looked down and Ace was taken aback, regretting his tone, not his words.

When (Y/n) looked back up, big fat tears were rolling down their cheeks as they suppressed a sob “y- you just aren’t comfortable yet-“ they wept, using their first to wipe away the futile tears and snot “t-that’s why your claws are out.” They quickly turned away from ace and ran before he could even mutter an apology. Ace tsked and promptly turned away. Guilt was eating him up from the inside.

[bloomeng]

It’s so strange to me how people who loathe Izzy love to claim that he only wanted Blackbeard then turn around and shit on Jack because they don’t like who Ed becomes around him.

THE HYPOCRISY!!!

And I mean that's sort of the point of Stede in that episode. He’s encouraging Ed to be “himself” but also refuses to acknowledge any of Ed’s past violence. Just like Izzy (allegedly) wants him to be one facet so too does Stede and that’s equally as selfish. I feel like some people forget that Stede is flawed too. I mean he’s a rich white man who wanted to become a pirate— which is an occupation born out of desperation and poverty— for the aesthetic. Olu and Jim literally point this out to him in episode one. I don’t know if he truly gets that by the end of season 2. His aversion to violence is understandable and probably a good thing in the long run but ignoring these traits in Ed, especially when it directly affected his crew, isn’t about trying to make the world safer, it’s about ignoring and sanitizing his vision of Ed.

Now I don’t think this is the worst thing ever because Ed in s1 was helped by it however in the long run issues will arise. And I don’t even fully blame Stede because to me it’s the equivalent of having a crush and seeing them through rose-colored glasses versus actually dating someone/ getting to know them/ being in a more serious relationship. S2 unfortunately just had Stede double down on the bad behavior instead of recognizing it.

[padfootagain]

The Last Ones On Earth (IV)

Chapter 4: An Age

Hello, hello! Here is a new chapter for my Darkling series!

I hope you like it! Let me know what you think!

****

Pairing: The Darkling x reader

Warnings for the series: mentions and depictions of violence and warfare, mentions of trauma

Warnings for the chapter: None

Summary: You and the Darkling are a team, even if no one knows it. Beyond being a team, you are the only one he trusts, and he's the only one you care about, and you're each other's true love. But if you've kept your secrets hidden for a long time, now that the Sun Summoner is fighting against you, it's time to reveal who you are, and what you are capable of...

Word Count: 2744

Masterlist for the series – The Darkling’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Alina stares at you as if you were a ghost. Or perhaps a dragon. Or a strange mix of both.

You give her a minute to register your words, you can almost call them a threat. You doubt that she’s weighing her options, though. You reckon she simply tries to understand what your words mean.

And then it’s back. The pride in her gaze, the rise in her chin, the tightness in her jaw.

Stupid girl who believes herself important…

“You say you want to talk, and yet you use threats already.”

“Who was put in chains to see you again?” you reply with amused sarcasm.

“And we were clearly right to mistrust you,” Zoya crosses her arms before her chest, her beautiful features slightly distorted by anger.

“Indeed!” you shoot her a smile. “It was pretty reckless to let me see all of you so easily.”

“David vouched for you,” Genya replies in a grim fashion, and David averts his eyes to stare at the carpet.

But your smile softens as you turn to him.

“Thank you, David. That was very nice of you.”

You turn towards Alina again. You notice that her hands ae touching.

Your smile grows, this time, more threatening, almost predatory.

“Child, let’s not make a mess. I simply want to talk, I haven’t come to hurt anyone.”

“Say that to the soldiers outside.”

“Collateral damage, I’m afraid,” you shrug. “I’m not going to hurt anyone in this room, I promise.”

“If you side with the Darkling, is your word worth anything?”

You raise a surprised eyebrow.

“If you truly knew him, you’d know how foolish that remark is. The Darkling is a lot of things, but he does stay true to his words.”

“And by ‘a lot of things’, you do include mass murderer, of course,” Nikolai points out.

“Coming from a man whose main occupations are pirating and inventing mass-destruction weaponry, I do find the remark particularly ironic.”

But you heave a sigh, tired of losing time you don’t have. There is too much work to do. Grisha to rescue, friends to bury, a whole nation to lead…

“Now, please, Alina. Again, I will not hurt you, so come sit down so we can talk.”

“I’ve never liked you,” the girl mumbles under her breath, her hands slowly moving, and you can see glow coming from her fingertips.

You roll your eyes.

“If I fought every person I didn’t like, only three people in this room would still be alive, including me. And you would not be breathing anymore, Starkov. But as I can’t choke you to death with my bare hands the way I truly long to, please, don’t do anything stupid and sit down.”

With a frustrated sigh, Alina closes her fists, but lets her power subside, and at long last, joins the gathering around the wooden table again.

“We will not yield when it comes to destroying the Fold,” Alina stubbornly declares.

“I am aware of repeating myself, but it will not work without the Fold,” you reply.

“You cannot destroy entire villages!”

“You cannot force people to change if you give them a chance to remain as they are.”

“People can change.”

“They can,” you nod in agreement. “But most of the time, they don’t want to. Why would they? If what you are asking for goes against their own interest, why would they change?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do.”

You snort at that.

“Please… Don’t be so naïve. Of course, some people have enough compassion to not hurt Grisha. But the majority will take centuries to reach this kind of tolerance. And in the meantime, people are dying. Our people.”

“We are all Ravkan,” Nikolai argues.

“Are we? Because when I was arrested by your men a few weeks ago and kept in a cage without water, food, or anything against the cold for three days, waiting to be executed that more Grisha were captured because, and I quote ‘it would be a waste of energy to set up the gallows just for a couple of them’… without any sort of trial or justice whatsoever, I did not feel very Ravkan… but I did feel very much Grisha.”

Nikolai doesn’t answer, instead he looks guiltily at his hands.

“I don’t care about Ravka,” you answer in honesty. “I don’t care about Shu Han, I don’t care about Fjerda, or any other nation. At the end of the day, we are all humans. And we are Grisha, and otkazat’sya. The Fold is not to be used as a threat against Ravka alone, that’s the whole point. It’s the only weapon in our possession that is powerful enough for all Grisha to be safe, no matter where they come from.”

“I do not condone what has been done to you,” Nikolai finally speaks, his voice slow and measured. “But if people are turning against Grisha, it is because of the Darkling’s actions.”

You roll your eyes at that.

“This has been going on for centuries, it is nothing new, they simply have an excuse to do as they please without any repercussion, and they enjoy their newly-found freedom to slaughter all the Grisha they want. It happens again, and again. We have tried to be useful, we have tried to prove people we are no threat, we have tried working hand in hand with kings, and it doesn’t work. The Fold is our last chance.”

“You speak as if you had done all of that, but you are barely older than us,” Zoya spits in a venomous tone. “Who do you think you are, Maeve?”

“Y/N,” you interrupt her.

The girl frowns.

“What?”

“My real name is Y/N. Maeve is only my latest identity, I’ve had many of those before.”

Suddenly, Alina’s eyes grow round, and she finally seems afraid of you.

At long last, some intelligence…

“Are you a spy?” David asks, taken aback by your statement.

But you shake your head.

“Not exactly.”

“You are like him.”

All turn to Alina as she speaks again, her voice uneasy.

“You said you are a powerful Durast.”

“Incredibly powerful,” you correct her.

“You are like the Darkling.”

“Aleksander. That’s his name.”

He’ll hate you for saying it out loud, for revealing something so personal about him.

Aleksander. His first name, his true one. The one only you and Baghra know. The one that tastes of the young man you met all these years ago, unconscious in the snow somewhere near Fjerda…

 All around the table frown. As if they never wondered what his name was. And perhaps they truly never cared to wonder. Perhaps the title was enough. It’s easier, anyway, to stare at a man you send to die on a battlefield and see only a rank, a title, and not the human wearing it. It’s easier too to kill an enemy if he is but a shadow, a symbol, and not an actual breathing man.

You lean a little over the table, your forearms resting on the hard surface, your fingers intertwining together.

“Aleksander and I are extremely powerful Grisha. Just like you, Alina. Just like Baghra. Just like Saints.”

“I don’t understand,” Mal admits.

“Grisha draw great strengths from using their powers. The more powerful you are, the better your health. Some of us are so powerful, we are virtually immortal. Or, well, if you smash my head with a sword, I will die. But I barely age at all. I can leave for thousands of years.”

“Bullshit,” Nikolai curses.

“I’m afraid not. It is a great curse, indeed. But power always has a cost.”

“Some would consider themselves lucky to never age. Especially my mother, considering all her efforts to hide her true age…”

“Well, my dear prince, your mother has not seen people dying for hundreds of years.”

Again, Nikolai looked away.

“You said that Alina was like that too…” Mal insists, and you don’t fail to notice the way Alina flees his gaze.

“Indeed. She will without a doubt outlive all of you, and your descendants on many generations.”

“If it’s so unbearable, why are you still alive? We wouldn’t be in this mess if you and the Darkling had given up,” Zoya adds bitterly.

But when you turn to her, your stare is filled with a cold fire that shushes her.

“Many powerful Grisha kill themselves, after a while, after it’s too much to see all the people you love die over and over again. Aleksander and I were lucky, we found each other. And don’t forget that without our efforts, the Little Palace would not exist and Grisha would have never known any type of safety. We were the first to manage to live for longer than a couple of years at the same place, while using our powers, and remain safe.”

“You speak as if you were there when the Little Palace was built,” David frowns.

“I was there,” you correct him. “I built the place. Literally. I am a Fabrikator, after all.”

“You do expect us to believe you?” Mal scoffs, but Alina shushes him quickly. And you can see on the faces of the others that their opinion of you changes as they realize that Alina does, indeed, believe you.

And rightly so. After all, you are telling the truth. The way you had planned to do.

You choose your next words carefully.

“I have seen the same pattern again and again. I know what will happen, because I have seen it before. I have tried every other way to help Grisha: hiding, fighting, being useful, being tamed, being strong… it doesn’t work. It never works, because otkazat’sya are afraid of our power, because they feel different and thus frightened. You ask me to wait, that we are in no rush to change the world, but I have been working towards that goal for hundreds of years. I am not in a rush, I am patient, indeed. But things must change, eventually. And we have an opportunity here that will never present itself again for things to finally go the way we want.”

You heave a sigh, and you seem tired now. Despite your face untouched by the many years you have spent on this earth, there is something new in your gaze, a sadness that doesn’t fit the youth of your features. It seems ancient, brought by a pain too great to have occurred in only a lifetime.

“If you want proof, I can tell you everything you want to know. I’ll tell you how Aleksander and I met. How we ran. How we hid. How we fought. All the things that we tried to help Grisha and how it always failed. How we were betrayed and how we survived. If it can prove my point, then so be it.”

“How old are you?” Alina asks after a short silent.

Her voice is cautious, slow. As if she’s afraid of your answer. And perhaps she is. She should be. After all, it shows how powerful you are, how much of a threat you can be. To her, who is doomed to a deathless life as well, it also means facing the truth about her lover.

Your smile is smug when your lips curl upwards and you answer.

“I’ll turn 889 in a couple of months.”

Over 400 years ago

Os Alta – over the grounds of the royal Palace

Your hands moved relentlessly in those days. There was so much work to be done. You had help, of course, from otkazat’sya workers but also from other Fabrikators. It was the name that was chosen for the Grisha sharing your powers, along with a colour: purple, like the petals of flowers, like berries, like poisons…

But on this room, your work was to be done in solitude. No one could know about the changes you were bringing to Aleksander’s War Room. It would protect you from eavesdroppers, fire, and many other threats. It would be a safe room. Even if Aleksander’s plan in the army seemed to be working for now, you reckoned you couldn’t stop being cautious. You needed safety, as always.

“You are working too late, my love.”

The warm voice filled your heart with something both peaceful and excited. You couldn’t refrain a smile as you turned to your husband, who was walking inside the room and closing the door behind him.

“You must rest,” he insisted, but you shook your head.

“I am perfectly fine. Besides, I can’t work on this room during the day, it’s too risky.”

Of course, he knew you were right. Still, he wished you could rest more, he wished you could be safe and wouldn’t have to hide…

Soon. He hoped it could be soon. With this safe haven you were building together, it could be the answer to everything. Perhaps it could even be a home…

You chuckled fondly as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling you close.

“You’re distracting me!” you complained in faked annoyance, and Aleksander knew perfectly what you were doing.

“You love it.”

“I do not! I am busy!”

“And I am tired and long for a good night of sleep in a comfortable bed with my beloved wife.”

“Is it not too risky?”

“We are safe for now, let’s enjoy it, while it lasts.”

“Do you think this could be it? That we could finally remain safe?”

“I do not know. I hope so.”

“But we’re both too old for foolish hopes, huh?”

You exchanged a sad smile.

“We should not be seen as a couple,” Aleksander went on, and he knew he was breaking your heart a little by saying that, the same way he was breaking his own. “It would be too dangerous.”

“I agree. We are both powerful, we will live long lives… It would be too frightening for the otkazat’sya.”

“Build us a room where we can be ourselves, my love. We will pretend the rest of the time.”

You turned in his arms to face him, and his hand immediately raised to rest over your cheek.

“I’ll make you pay for that,” you warned him, and he raised a surprised eyebrow.

“Really? Will you? And how could I repay this debt towards my favourite Fabrikator?”

“An awful lot of kisses will be required. And some cakes. Lots of sweets.”

You both laughed at that, despite your shared tiredness, despite all the things you had been through. A bright laugh made of bright hope, a fool’s hope perhaps, but hope all the same. The sounds filled up the empty room, and echoed in its blank space.

“So, we’ll hide that we are married?” you asked after growing quiet again, and Aleksander nodded, although you could see it pained him to do so.

“It’s safer this way. If I am to step up, I will have many enemies.”

You nodded, tugging your head on his chest, so he could rest his chin on you.

“We’ll make it work,” you reassured him, feeling the tension in his body, the fear too. “We’ll make it work, Aleks.”

“I know. I’m just… worried that you might… that I might lose you.”

“You won’t lose me. I’ll be right there. And I’ll steal an awful lot of kisses in this room.”

“Is it safe already?”

“Safe enough for us to have this conversation, yes.”

“Can you lock the door?”

“Already done it.”

He chuckled.

“You’re getting good at using your powers without moving your hands.”

“I still had to move a finger, but my hands didn’t touch.”

“That’s my wife. So powerful.”

But he felt you tensing in his gentle hold.

“It will be worth it, right? All these moments together we’ll have to sacrifice, all this fighting, all this work… tell me it will be worth it. Tell me we’ll make it.”

He took your face in both his hands to force you to look up at him.

“It will be worth it,” he assured you, and in his dark eyes, you saw no lies nor doubts. “We will make it through. You and me, the way we have planned. The way we promised each other we would.”

“Until we’re the last ones on Earth?” you still asked in a trembling voice, even if you didn’t doubt him.

He nodded, a smile on his lips as he pulled you in a tight hold again.

“Until we’re the last ones on Earth, my love.”

*****************************************

Taglist : @reg-arcturus-black @wolfmoonmusic @budugu @sayumiht

[fowlfics]

been considering the idea of Roger/Rouge/Garp today

Roger/Garp as the decades-long rivals. When Roger disbanded his crew with no warning, of course Garp would try to seek him out, see what was going on

And he finds Roger sequestered on a small island in the South Blue, completely preoccupied with this pretty blonde

Of course, that'll end up in Garp's pride getting bruised, but like the uncommunicative asshole he is, there would be far more fighting than talking involved

Meanwhile Rouge's just chilling with a drink, watching the drama like her own personal telenovela

It all comes to a head, I think, when Roger blurts out that he was going to come back, that he was going to return to Garp, but only so that he could lead Roger to his execution

Because, surprise! Roger is dying. He had been dying, for years now. And he had never said a word about it to Garp

Gosh, that had to smart, didn't it? The one person Garp considered his equal in strength, his rival, and yet Roger didn't see him as anything more than enemy, did he?

Stubborn as he is, Garp would stick around like the world's most awkward third wheel, his oblivious ass never realizing he had basically forced his way into the relationship

When the time came for comes for Roger to leave, Garp is by his side the entire time. If Roger felt like he could entrust his child to him in canonverse, he definitely feels that way here, too

For Garp, it's the first time hearing about any child. Roger laughs at that hard enough to break into a coughing fit, spitting blood

After the execution, he oversees that Roger's body gets as respectful of a burial as he can manage. He requests time off afterwards. As the newly-heralded hero of the marines, for bringing the Pirate King to heel, the marines trip over their feet to give him whatever he wants

He's not really sure why he returns to Baterilla. The knock he leaves on Rouge's doors hardly has any strength in it.

She lets him in wordlessly, sitting by his side as the two of them try to come to terms with the larger-than-life Roger-shaped hole in their world

When he finds his words again, Garp offers to take Rouge away someplace the marines wouldn't be able to find her. He already knows about the planned occupation, he warns her about what's coming

She refuses, though. This island was where Roger spent his last months, and it was where she would do the same.

Garp suspects she just can't handle the idea of raising Roger's son without him by her side. In the end, both of them pushed the responsibility onto him.

It continues much like canonverse. Except that, now, Garp has two ghosts looking him in the face every time he sees Ace growing up

The "I don't have to listen to you! You're not my dad, old man!" must have hit particularly hard in that AU.

....honestly, this was basically the whole reason why that brainworm crawled into my mind: that singular line. The potential universe where Garp was so close to actually being Ace's parent

Can you imagine the terror of Portgas D Ace being brought up not only by Garp the Fist, but also Portgas D Rouge AND the Pirate King? the world would have been shaken to the core

i wish we could have seen it 😔

[irisintheafterglow]

No Prey, No Pay (opla!zoro x you)

summary: after steering him to a successful bounty, zoro can't stop thinking about you. he decides to do something about it. (Part 2 to Parley)

wc: 1.67k

cw/tags: domestic zoro crumbs, idiots in love but they don't know how to express it, canon-typical violence, zoro is so himbo i love him

note: thank you for all the love on my first two zoro posts!!!! i'm so so so happy y'all liked them; this is one of the first times in a while i've actually been super giddy writing a character. i really hope he's not too ooc, i tried to keep his himbo-ness intact. hope you enjoy!!!

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated <3

“Here to try killing me again?”

“Oh,” is all he can sputter out, frozen on the doorstep of the Lady’s manor. The stout, shriveled old woman before him was not who he was looking for. To make matters worse, the flower he’d picked from the hillside on his way up the driveway suddenly seemed like a gargantuan beanstock in his fingers. His face was warming but, for the life of him, he could not figure out why. “You’re not–”

“Nope. They’re in the Farmers’ Market,” she deadpans without hesitation, eyeing him with all the amusement of a PhD candidate reading a children’s book. “The Farmers’ Market I created, by the way.” 

“Right,” he replies shortly, turning abruptly on his heel and letting his eyes widen in pure horror when she can’t see his face. He tosses the flower into a nearby planter, well aware that she can still see his every move. After several misguided attempts to navigate back to your isolated piece of land in the East Blue, he approached the ornately decorated door with a little more excitement than he expected. Having the Lady whom he’d tried to kill a few weeks prior be the one to open the door was another funny twist of irony that caused him an odd feeling of embarrassment, like he’d dropped you off after a date ten minutes past your curfew. “Thank you for your time.” 

“Tell me, pirate hunter,” she called to his back patronizingly. “Why grace us again with your oh-so-menacing presence?” 

“I’m wondering the exact same thing,” he mutters, irritated at his failed attempt to find you on the first try. 

“When you find them, tell them to pick up more sweet potatoes. I thought we had enough for dinner, but we could use a few more now that you’re here,” the Lady instructs him and her words take a few seconds to register in his mind. But, by the time he’s turned around to ask her what she meant, the door is already shut and he’s too proud to knock again. 

As if the mortification on your porch wasn’t enough, it’s nearly impossible to find you in the milling swarms of people in town. The people part naturally for him as he passes, sneaking anxious glances at the three swords on his hip. Whispers of his occupation and intentions float around his ears but he pays them no mind, determined to spot you. Again, he wasn’t sure what he was doing there in the first place; but, no matter what anyone else said, he did know one thing. By some unexpected turn of Fate, he missed you. 

“Shopping for produce while you hunt? I didn’t know you could multitask.” The teasing lilt of your voice appears behind him and he can’t help smirking. You’d found him before he found you, even though it was his job to find people. “Word to the wise: the vendors will upcharge you because they know you’re not from the island.” 

“What if you’re there with me?” When he finally turns to face you, his eyes flick to the canvas bag slung over your shoulder. It’s stuffed with fruits and vegetables, along with a jar of honey from the beekeeper just up the road from your house. 

“They’ll upcharge you more and insist you pay for my stuff,” you reply nonchalantly. “Now that I think of it, maybe we should walk around together.” You brush past him and re-enter the bustling square like he was the last thing on your mind, when really he was the only thing for the past week. You’re certain he’d follow behind you and your theory is confirmed when his voice comes from over your right shoulder. “It’s good to see you.”

“You’re wearing the bracelet,” he observes, easily slipping into place next to you as if it was natural to be by your side. With the sword-clad bounty hunter next to you, it was much easier to navigate the market without bumping every resident of the island. 

“Mhmm, I told you I liked it,” you say absentmindedly, stopping at a stand and picking up a vibrantly colored fruit from the stack. Observing it for bruises and finding none, you signal the seller that you’d like to buy the piece in your hand. His farm-worn hand stretches out to you and you fish around in your bag briefly for coins. But, before you can place the money in his hand, Zoro’s fingers are already dropping an unnecessarily large quantity into the shocked farmer’s palm. You gape at him and his unchangingly blank expression, shaking your head in disbelief when he glances at you, eyes shining arrogantly. “Where’d you get all that money and why did you do that?” 

“Bounties,” he answers plainly, “and ‘cause I wanted to. Next stand?” You’re still slightly frozen from pure surprise, but he shrugs carefreely and tilts his head toward the rest of the vendors.

“Feel like enlightening me on why you’re here again?” It’s the fourth or fifth stand he’s accompanied you to and, at this point, you were just window-shopping. Since he joined you on your errand, you hadn’t spent any more money; before you could pay any of the sellers, they were already thanking you profusely for your generosity with a pile of shining coins in their hands. Zoro proved to be a very patient companion, respectfully giving his opinions on which piece of produce looked bigger or more appetizing. With most of the required items on your shopping list successfully in your bag, you find yourself drifting over to the stalls of mundane things like pretty flowers and colorful crystals. 

“There’s a Marine defector turned intelligence smuggler hiding somewhere in the area. Thought I’d knock out two birds with one stone.” You turn over a piece of aventurine in your fingers, admiring it from different angles in the sunlight. Your breath hitches slightly when Zoro’s face dips down next to yours, watching the crystal from the same angle. 

“What’s the other bird?” You glance at him from the corner of your eye. 

“Visiting you,” he replies without hesitation, plucking the crystal from your fingers and tossing more coins at the vendor. You don’t stop the laugh that escapes your mouth and you swear his smirk gets more self-assured as he drops the rock into your bag. At a point when you aren’t looking, he swings your bag onto a broad shoulder as easily as if it was a piece of paper. “Also, we need sweet potatoes.” Your eyebrows raise in amusement at his slip. 

“We?” You have to fight down another giggle when his face becomes slightly pinker, imperceptible if you weren’t already staring at him. “Since when were we anything?”

“Your boss said she needed more sweet potatoes. Don’t shoot the messenger.” 

“I wasn’t aware that you went to go see her.”

“I wasn’t either, and then she opened the door instead of you,” he admits and you chuckle at his expression of distaste. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have–get behind me.” Before he can finish his thought, his arm shoots out in front of you, effectively halting you a split second before a knife darts across your vision, embedding itself into the wooden post next to you. The surrounding market-goers break into chaotic panic and you have no choice but to press your back against Zoro’s to prevent getting swept away. Emerging from the crowd, a lethal-looking group of fighters encircle you two and your hand finds the hilt of your saber. 

“Pirates?”

“No. Bounty hunters.”

“Friends of yours?” You eye the group warily as the marketplace empties, people running into the nearest building they could find to spectate the upcoming battle. 

“I’d call them ‘occupational competition’ on a good day.”

“Ah, great,” you huff sarcastically. “What’d you do to piss them off?”

“Exist,” he deadpans and you hum in assent. 

“Yeah, that’ll do it,” you mutter and you start to pull your blade from its sheath, anticipating the fight ahead of you.

“Don’t.” The single word halts your movements and your stomach drops in fear of what he’s sensing.

“What?”

“Let me handle this,” he says in a low tone that makes your skin break into goosebumps. “Can you hold the bag while I deal with them?”

“You sure?”

“Yep. This won’t take long,” he says irritatedly, scowling at the rival hunters that interrupted his day.

“Alright. I’m gonna go get sweet potatoes, then.”

“Third one down on the left. I’ll meet you over there,” he promises before moving faster than you can comprehend, whirling and downing the two attackers in front of you without even drawing his swords. They howl in pain when you stab your blade into their feet for good measure before leisurely making your way further down the street. As you walk, Zoro clears the path for you, mercilessly incapacitating every enemy with ease. By the time you find the sweet potato stall, there’s only one persistent fighter still giving the swordsman problems. You don’t feel any ounce of fear, however, as you pick through the salvageable gourds while the clashing of swords rings out behind you. Eventually, the street quiets and Zoro returns to your side as if nothing happened at all. “Good?”

“I’m fine,” you say truthfully, running your thumb over the bruise of an otherwise good potato. “You think this one’s still okay?” After peering at it and deeming it safe, he nods.  

“Yeah, it should be fine. If anything, you can just cut off the ugly spot.” There’s a splattering of red just under his eye when you meet his gaze. Your fingers unconsciously come up to wipe the speck of blood from his cheek and his skin feels just as electric as the first time you touched him. 

“Cool. I’m done shopping then, so we can go back home.”

“We?”

“You’re staying for dinner. It isn’t a request,” you command lightheartedly and smile when his steps fall into line next to yours. 

“Mmm, I can’t wait.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[kedsandtubesocks]

Hold On, Hold On

pairing: Cowboy!Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

summary: Your cowboy leaves for another bounty and you face how fragile a home can be

wc: 4.7k

warnings: 18+ only. MDNI, old west AU, semi established relationship, violence and town in peril, deep yearning, light angst but happy ending, heavy make-out session that gets a bit heated and spicy at the end

a/n: this is based off the season 3 episode ‘the pirate’ except with bandits lol, the title of this is from another neko case song of the same name (no surprise) I have a whole little collection of Cowboy Din pieces but this works as a good stand alone! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy & biggest thank you to my cowgal forever @skeletoncowboys this is for you I love ya

The wilderness calls to your bounty hunting cowboy once again.

“Don’t know how long this one is going to take. So I’m having the kid come with me.” Din tells you, his black bandana covering his face.

As much as you understand, an ache swells through your chest fast.

Would this be the last time you saw him? Saw either of your boys that have become beautiful fixtures in your life?

Something as dangerous as a storm rips through your mind. This all is temporary and you knew that.

Nothing is sure or set in stone with a man who chases after demons in the desert.

Din’s occupation as a bounty hunter meant he jumped around from town to town, never settling in a place for too long. Even with a ward in his care, you understood there was no need for him to grow roots in a particular community.

The only reason why he often brought his bounties here was because the mayor of your town was a previous member of the same bounty hunting guild Din is in. You never even knew bounty hunters held guilds. But that is the life you are wading through now.

It’s the life that’s led you to this, to seeing Din and the baby off on their journey.

You kiss the kid goodbye. His sweet pudgy cheeks puff up so warmly when he smiles at you.

“Keep an eye on your dad, little bug,” you tell the baby as you poke his sweet little nose. He giggles and it’s a sound you will treasure.

“Alright kid, let’s go.” Din croaks low as he shifts the baby up into his arms.

You haven’t been able to look Din in the eyes since he announced his departure. You don’t even know why this particular trip is affecting you so much.

“I packed a few extra slices of bread.” You explain rapidly. “And I know you’re still upset that I’m having you take one of my quilts but trust me, I’d rather you two have it-“

He cuts off your rambling quietly with the soft whisper of your name. It strikes fast like lightning shot through your spine.

Now you can’t help but turn your gaze up to him.

The whispers around this man painted him to be an omen because you could never see his eyes.

That part is true. The shadow of Din’s hat casts a deep shadow heavily blocking any chance of getting a good look at him in the eye. Then his bandana completely hides him from the nose down. At times he truly exists as a faceless phantom, a wandering ghost that has now found residence in your heart’s chambers.

But right now, this phantom stares directly at you and you can clearly see the eyes of this righteous man.

You’ve seen his face, kissed his soft lips. But his eyes…

Those rich soil eyes hold so much emotion and now hold your entire soul captive in their gaze.

You say nothing, don’t even know what to tell him.

A goodbye feels too simple. A please come home safe doesn't sound true because was this really his home?

Would this ever be his home?

And could you ever house a man as wild as a tumbleweed?

“Thank you.” Din speaks first. However, that simple thank you is all he says.

Your arms ache to embrace him. Your lips wish you were brave enough to yank the cloth across his face down to kiss him with every inch of your love.

He suddenly nods at you and you only nod back.

Without another word Din jumps onto his horse. The animal, which you believe hates you, now lets you softly pet him. You wish you could appreciate this small step but heaviness clogs your heart too much for any other emotion to pass.

The baby makes a soft whimper and both you and Din snap your attention to him. With his chubby sweet little fingers, your little bug simply waves a sad soft thing at you. He’s so smart, the kid, and you swallow back hard as you wave back. Your eyes return to Din.

The shade of his hat now has you searching harder for his eyes.

This time you can’t find them.

Nothing else is said.

Din simply kicks his heels against his horse and then begins a slow ride away.

No breeze of the wind carries them. This time it is only the stillness of the desert. For some reason, as you watch them dwindle further and further away, the stillness scares you more.

Summer beats down an unforgiving heat.

The air gets thick with the dry dust and you’re thankful for the cool nights that settle in. The early evening breeze from the open window already feels refreshing as you finish buying a few provisions from the commissary.

The clerk, an older man whose wife you are fond of, gently says your name hesitantly. His eyes are even a bit nervous and you ready yourself for whatever he asks.

“What…whatever happened to that young babe you had with you?”

You had previously been in the store many times with the baby happily cuddled in your arms. You used to cover him with a small light quilt to keep him safe from any curious eyes. You didn’t want them recognizing him if they saw the baby with your bounty hunter. But of course, the sight of you suddenly with a new babe did spark a few curious conversations.

Now your lips twitch but out of a fondness soaked in an aching sadness.

You haven't seen your boys for three months.

It’s the longest they’ve ever been gone. Not even a letter has been sent your way. But then again, you don’t take Din as one to write letters. The panic, the sleepless nights worrying if they were alright, all those emotions bleed into a numbness now. You simply wade through it all like trying to find an exit out of a sandpit slowly sinking you.

Swallowing the canyon sized lump in your throat, you simply give a brave false smile to the clerk staring so worried now.

You remember once jokingly telling him you had grown the baby in your garden. After all, you had first found the little terror eating your carrots.

“The wind swept him away from me,” you reply and you even hear the hollowness you cannot hide in your tone.

The clerk curiously frowns confused but his eyes seem to read past your brave face. He comfortingly pats your hand still on the counter and wishes you a safe walk back to your cabin.

With a grateful small grin you move to head out of the store.

Then the air bursts with a violent and loud crack.

Bandits are not a new occurrence to you or to the town. Once in a blue moon, a couple of them would arrive, make a ruckus at the saloon or unfortunately leave the town with more than they came with.

But the bandits arriving now come in a wave, like a mass of locust swarming in so fast you didn’t have time to think. And you didn’t. The explosion comes and you and the clerk give each other a petrified look before dashing outside.

Smoke rises from the edge of town and your heart sinks horrified at the chaos quickly consuming. The raiders ride in fast. The sticks of dynamite in their hand speak of a sinister threat of what was to come if anyone tries to stop them.

You move fast, trying to help your dear clerk to his house to be with his wife. You try to keep low. But when you are up against a swarm, it’s hard to outrun their staggering numbers.

Anywhere you turn the raider’s sinisters faces laugh proud and wild from on top of their horses. Some of them even chase on foot like released devils. It’s a bedlam choking your throat in panic.

Leave. You have to leave, find shelter or at least hide in your home.

Thankfully a group of you, including Mayor Karga, band together and flee fast from the town out past the outskirts. You all make camp on a secluded hillside that overlooks the town.

In the dead of night, the town illuminates a destructive crimson that has your legs wanting to give out.

“Don’t worry everyone!” Karga with his steady leveled heads guidance calls out in the night to you and the others townsfolk. “Before we evacuated I sent a telegram to my best man! He will come!”

For some reason your mind immediately flashes to Din.

You almost want to laugh. Of course your love sick heart would clutch onto the idea of him during a perilous moment of turmoil. He was a known fighter, though you had never seen him in combat. But a sharp internal voice striking as sharp as a rattlesnake tells you not to put your faith in bounty hunters.

Not even Din.

You squeeze away the tears clouding up your eyes and try to sleep alone under the desert’s ever watchful eye.

Staring up at the clear beautiful sky, you watch as the stars twinkle down below.

There were children’s tales about wishing on stars, on how seeing one fly across the sky was the reminder of how quick and fast wishes come. You remember even telling that story to your favorite little carrot stealing bug.

Emotions clog your throat even more at the thought of the baby and his father.

Something in you whispers to make a wish. That maybe at this hour of feeling so lost, a wish is all you have.

But again, wishing on stars, wishing for bounty hunters to make a miraculous return from the horizon, is for children. And you are too old to hold onto wishes when your town faces a real chaos that wishes might not be able to maybe save.

A day passes among the hills.

The next day, talk bubbles among some of the townsfolk to try and take the county back. But even you know the ammunition would not withstand the sheer force of the bandits.

And the bandits are apparently a stubborn group.

Their leader, a terrifying man with a wild beard by the name of Gorian Shard, announces with a loud voice to Karga they will never leave.

“A fair retribution for you not serving my men and then discovering your precious bounty hunter killed more of my comrades!”

Your heart again jumps at the thought of it being Din.

But your mind races to the worst possibilities. Did he encounter these raiders and not make it out alive? What about the baby?

You refuse to let yourself dwindle on those thoughts. You can’t. You have to find a way to keep moving, find a way out of this situation.

The townsfolk grow restless and worried, more so than you.

“Now everyone please, just hold on. I know help is on the way!” Karga urges, a voice of reason and faith. It settles everyone enough as another night among the wilderness arrives.

This time clouds cluster in the skies above and hide the stars. You think it’s fitting as you go to sleep with tears in your eyes.

You think of Kargas words, the idea of holding onto faith. You suppose even now a part of you still greedily clutches onto a last bit of hope that you’ll see your cowboy again.

You glance up at the cloudy sky again.

Even though there are no stars out, your heart now sends out a whisper of a wish. It’s a simple one.

What else do you have to lose making a wish now?

So you wish for safety - for you, for the town, and for your two boys that you hope more than ever are alive.

Soft low mummering wakes you up. Above stretches a soft periwinkle blue morning sky. When you rise you find so many staring down towards the town.

When you go to see what has everyone in a commotion, your breath gets snatched right out of your chest.

Din is fast on his horse.

He moves rapidly between the buildings and among the shadows that you believe you might have just imagined him.

But then, he swiftly rides out from a sharp corner and shoots three bandits down.

The towns people cry in absolute cheer but your eyes are on the cowboy moving like a phantom. It really is him.

Din.

He’s not alone though. More riders move in to take down the bandits but everyone including yourself focus on the mystery rider.

“Isn’t that the man with no eyes!? The one with the face you can’t even see?” Someone whispers.

“No…can’t be.” Another voice argues.

Karga suddenly chuckles, warm and reassured. “Trust me, my friends. That is indeed the same bounty hunter. He’s ours.”

A sharp flash of possessiveness rises.

You want to correct the Mayor and say he’s yours. That bounty hunter is your bounty hunter, the one who’s son eats from your garden, the bounty hunter who’s favorite fruit is oranges, whose face you knew and existence is now carved a deep cavern in your heart.

Din.

Your bounty hunter.

He’s a wonder to watch in action. Smooth, swift, firing with precision and maneuvering with an almost grace.

Your throat goes dry thinking of how strong this cowboy is the same one who once got flustered when he told you he can’t dance.

The bandits are effortlessly taken down by Din and the reinforcements he brought. Peace returns with the warm dawn. A beautiful relieved joy bursts through the crowd as everyone starts the descent back to the town. Your legs barely carry you but you eventually find yourself there among your town.

Rubble lines the streets. A few shops including the cantina took the worst damage. A steady rebuild is already being discussed among the townsfolk but your attention rests entirely on the black bandana wearing man.

He’s alive.

The baby sits cozy in his arms, smiling as bright as a new sun. Your mind can’t even process the thought of Din riding into battle with the kid.

Then a woman walks towards him.

Her gait is steady, confident. When she removes her hat to wipe her face, striking auburn colored hair falls from under her hat. She is lovely and it dawns on you that she was with the reinforcements.

You can’t help but admire her for being a part of the group who help liberate and retrieve your home. But when she moves closer to talk to Din, even playfully smiles at the baby, your heart starts deflating.

Soon Karga walks forward to speak to the hunters and the townspeople.

The entire time he talks you stay hidden against the shadow of a building, watching. The woman stands next to Din the entire time and grins so fondly. That look only intensifies when she goes to stare at him. Her eyes are molten and when Din turns back to her, he nods.

You hate that you cannot see his eyes.

The wilderness is not a forgiving thing. It brings in many travelers that simply come and go and it seems Din might be one of them. Because of course he would be close with another, a true cowgirl who can handle the wilderness and his ever changing lifestyle.

He never mentioned another woman in his life, but you suppose you wouldn’t either if you were in his position.

You wonder now if your existence to him was a simple way to pass the time, if you were just a quiet pit stop not ever meant to hold him for long. You try not to let these acidic jealous thoughts poison you, but it’s too late.

Before Din can turn to look towards the crowd, you turn on your heels and walk away against the shadows of the building.

You go to help the clerk, his sweet wife clean up the shop as best as you can.

“I wonder if the bounty hunter we’ve seen around here with the black bandana is handsome?” The clerk’s wife offers trying to lighten the space and her husband chuckles.

You stay quiet while your heart whispers out that yes, that bounty hunter is quite handsome.

When exhaustion mixes too dangerously with the heartbreak still brimming in your body, you decide to slip home.

You don’t even realize how long this day has been until you step out of the shop and find the sun already making her way to bed over the horizon.

It's comforting in a strange way.

The sun will rise again tomorrow, a new day, and so will you. You will move on.

You walk forward, straight out of the town and to the outskirts to where your cabin sits. You want to cry seeing your home thankfully still standing. A few animals are gone. Some crops and even stored goods from the shed have been stolen. The inside of your house is a ransacked clutter.

In the stillness, among the settled destruction, quiet tears sting your eyes.

You don’t know if it’s from the exhaustion of these past few days or the ache knowing your bounty hunter might be taken away from you by something fiercer than the wilderness.

He’s alive, your heart whispers.

You got your wish.

And that is true, but heavens above the truth hurts a violent ache.

Footsteps against the porch outside make you jump and whip around to stare from inside your house. There against your open doorway stands a beautiful shadow.

“Din…” Your voice even sounds hollow saying his name.

He pulls his mask down. His stunning handsome face stares at you wide as if you’re the phantom. Then he moves with a blinding speed you witnessed against the bandits.

In quick steps he is suddenly before you and then, you are in his arms.

He smells of gunpowder, sweat and something faintly him. It’s intoxicating and you can’t even stop yourself. Your arms wrap around him tight.

He breathes your name out and you think it might even sound like a shaken watery prayer.

“I didn’t see you among the others and I thought…I thought the worst, honey.” Din speaks with a heavy tone as thick as a torn bush.

That sweet but cursed nickname ignites a tender warmth through your body.

“I did too, about you.” You reply back small and in a waterlogged voice. “Haven’t seen you in months and I thought…”

You can’t even utter the words.

You instead simply allow yourself this moment to hold him tight.

“I know.” Din answers low. “The job took a lot longer than I thought. I’m sorry.”

“But then Karga sent me that ‘gram.” His voice steels hard.

So, it was him that Karga was speaking about.

“And I had to come back.” Din breathes out and squeezes you in his arms. His face even burrows against the top of your head and your eyes go wide.

Quietly your mind conjures up the image of the beautiful woman with the sunset colored hair and your eyes go misty.

So many emotions swirl in you that you can’t even swim against their tides to steady yourself.

A soft coo comes from the door now and instantly you and Din pull away from each other. Waddling in with wide eyes is the baby.

Without hesitation you leave Din’s arms to rush to the kid who once he sees you lights up. Then his arms reach out wide and grabby towards you. So effortlessly you scoop the little critter in your arms and pepper kisses across his face.

His sweet little coos twinkle like the sweetest wind chime.

“You came back just to eat more of my veggies didn’t you, little bug?” You laugh watery as the baby giggles so bright.

For the rest of the evening the little babe stays cozy in your arms refusing to leave even as you and Din slowly start cleaning up the cabin.

It’s a slow, quiet process.

Neither of you ask how the other is, how the other has been these missing months. The tension in the air clouds with a thickness you don’t know how to navigate.

Eventually the baby falls asleep quickly and happily snuggled in the makeshift bed.

Exhausted and in a type of trance all you can do is plop yourself on the edge of your porch. Din with his boots echoing on the wood quietly moves to sit beside you.

“Are you alright?” Din surprisingly speaks first in a comforting and low tone.

“Yeah it’s just… it’s been a long day.” It’s been a long couple of days, a couple of months and now, your ghost is materialized beside you.

“I bet.” Din comforts you so gently. “Don’t worry. We’ll get this place back to the way it was, honey.”

We will.

He included himself in those plans.

“You don’t have to stay too long,” but you reply low into the early evening air. “I understand your work keeps you busy and…”

The words become barbed and cut your throat on the way out.

“I know you had to come back because Karga sent out that distress signal. But I know this isn’t your home.”

Bounty hunters don’t stay in one place for long. He’s teaching you that.

And besides, what home could you truly give him?

The one you have now needs major repairs from the damage done by the bandits. Even before then your life compared to his is a simple mundane quietness that he might grow bored of.

Among the wilderness, the mirage is a sea of deception. It distorts the landscape before your eyes and for some reason that has you thinking of the times Din has returned to you from other jobs. You suppose that is what happened with you and Din. You wandered too deep into an unbelievable daydream and got stuck in the mirage, in the illusion of building a life with this man.

Din is still so far away, just out of your reach shimmering in the distance and untouchable.

After all, your bounty hunter is considered a ghost.

“I…” Din’s voice catches on itself and when you turn to him, the look on his face breaks your soul. His deep soil eyes are glossy, soaked with tears. His mouth opens in a sad frown.

Din swallows hard. Then his gorgeous sun kissed features frown even as confusion flickers in his gaze.

“I did come back for Karga, yes. But I came back because my home was in danger. Because you were in danger.”

His voice is clouded with conviction but running through it is an undercurrent of hurt.

Tears start to stream down your cheeks as free as rivers while you stare at him.

“You had to come home.” You croak the words out and a wild adoration resonates through your body.

Din nods firm, resolved.

You don’t know who moves first, who strikes first, but it doesn’t matter. The two of you are clutching each other and Din’s mouth kisses yours with the same wild power he shows in combat. He’s unrelenting and desperate but you suppose so are you.

The nights were long alone with your hand and simply thinking of his broad back, his beautiful thick neck, the feeling of his strong hands against you. And now, he is real solid flesh and blood beneath your fingertips. His tongue licks into your mouth trying to taste and consume everything you have. Your hands run to his hair and softly his hat falls away leaving you the bare face bounty hunter who you love entirely.

You clutch onto his shoulders and suddenly pull him close not even caring where you are.

Your back hits against the wood of the porch as Din leans down above. Din groans loud when his lips kiss your neck tasting the salt of your skin. Your eyes close in bliss.

He kisses a fiery path down your neck to your shoulders.

“Can I remove this, honey?” His voice is a debauched croak as he tugs at your garment blouse. Those deep eyes of his peer up at you beautiful fathomless abyss you want to fade into. Once you nod quickly he slips your blouse down exposing your chest to the evening air.

You wonder if a wild spirit has possessed you to let Din do this on your front porch but you embrace it. Especially when his tongue begins circling your nipple. Your mouth presses tight to and not let a whine escape you.

He suddenly kisses your breast with tenderness. He’s soft and lets his tongue trace a mindless path against your skin. It makes your body melt. Then he wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks loudly.

Your body leans up trying to get closer to him, trying to grind against any part of him, to get relief.

Din becomes a man possessed himself, licking and sucking both of your breasts until saliva coats them both

You sigh his name to the wind.

He finally draws back to stare down at you. He has never looked more beautiful. His eyes are completely blown out like a moonless night staring at you with pure devotion.

You lean up kiss him not even caring at how cold the air is against your bare chest. You need to be near him, need to consume him as much as he’s already consuming you.

Then the crunch of footsteps on the gravel approaches.

The sound galvanizes you both in a frenzy.

You rapidly yank your blouse up. Din effortlessly leans across you fast, almost covering you, as he whips to face forward. You realize it’s a type of protective move that makes your heart swell.

“I hope I’m not interrupting.” A woman’s voice arrives amused.

Now scrambling up, you gently move Din away. There standing a few feet away from the entrance to the porch is the woman with the sunset hair.

She grins a coy knowing thing and your heart drops.

You stare at her petrified. She simply grins warmer. Then she winks at you before turning her gaze to Din.

“I just wanted to let you know that myself and a few others are heading back to camp. Don’t want to keep my dear wife waiting too long after all.” She chuckles. “I’m assuming you’ll be staying here.”

Wait, wife? Confusion creeps in hearing her words.

“Yes.” Din replies with a curt nod.

“I figured.” The woman smiles and then flickers her attention back to you. With a poised warm expression she nods to you and you nod back, a bit stunned.

“Take care Din, enjoy your time back home. We’ll see you soon.” She says with a deep kindness and you don’t miss the way she phrases Din being back home.

“You as well Bo.” He bids her goodbye.

The woman, Bo, gives you a final warm grin and then walks to her horse you can spot faintly in the darkness.

“Who was that?” You have to ask.

“A good friend. She’s married to my people’s blacksmith. The two of them were the ones who rallied the reinforcements that helped me today.” Din explains simply.

Your eyes go wide. All the jealousy feels embarrassing now and you want to bring that woman back so you can both thank her and apologize.

“I’ll have to thank her and the others soon.” You mutter and Din hums a quiet agreeing noise.

“I would be honored to introduce you to them.” Din affirms.

The confusion you had quickly turns into a slight amusement tickling your lips and a small giggle even almost escapes you.

This day has been a whirlwind finally setting you down on your feet and now here you are, with your cowboy.

So you slide closer to him on the patio and curl your arms around his torso. Your body leans and curls against his back.

Closing your eyes, you burrow your face against Din’s strong solid frame. The fabric of his under shirt smells faintly of sunlight and something uniquely Din.

You kiss his back with the gentlest of pressure and Din draws your arms around him closer. He exhales a deep sigh you feel being so close against him.

A soft summer breeze of the desert breathes new life through the air.

“We’ll have to fix the fence tomorrow.” Din quietly notes and you hum in agreement.

There was much work to do. You even dread for a split moment thinking of all the work that has to be done in the heat tomorrow. But you also imagine the baby wandering around babbling so sweetly as he wears Din’s way too big hat…

And Din being by your side every step.

You squeeze him tighter, a silent apology for ever doubting this incredible force of a man.

“Welcome home.” You whisper to him.

Din’s hand squeezes yours.

“Yeah…M’home, honey.”

In your arms, you have caught a phantom of the wilderness and you plan to hold onto him as long as you can.

[sporadicthingcollection]

Would You Rather...?: Part 1/2 (LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: In which you make an occupational switch and a clown grows covetous. In other words, a different sort of romance dawn. Prequel to "Kiss, Marry, Kill." Pairing: LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: General. Word Count: ~4.5k Warnings: Reference to past abu$e, canon typical violence.

A/N: And now for something a little different! There's no smut in this one, but the seeds of pining are planted. 🌲🌲🌲 I originally posted this this morning, but was having some technical difficulties. Take two!

I knew right from the beginning

That you would end up winning

I knew right from the start

You'd put an arrow through my heart...

---

PART 1: TROOPER'S TRIBUNAL

You start the week getting thrown in the brig by your commanding officer. You end the week helping some goofy pirate kid and his not-friends beat said commander up and legging it on a stolen boat.

All in all, it could have been worse.

Right now, you’re sitting in the cabin of said little boat, hands bound, legs crossed, and your mouth politely shut as the redhead -- Nami? Nami. -- finishes giving the men a geography lesson.

“So, now that that’s out of the way...” She casts an icy glare in your direction. “What do we do with her?”

“Toss her overboard,” the bounty hunter says -- Zoro, you’re pretty sure his name is.

Luffy is the only person who’s been giving you any grace all day. All week, even. “She helped us out and that’s how you want to repay her?” He shakes his head like a parent scolding a child. “As your captain, I’m disappointed in both of you.”

Eyerolls all around, but only Zoro speaks. “You’re not my captain and she’s not my crewmate. Between kidnapping a Marine and stealing the map, we’ve got a huge target on our backs.”

Your voice croaks as you speak. You haven't said anything in a few hours. “I deserted,” you say. “They probably won't send a goon squad or anything after you--”

If Nami’s glare was cold steel, his is titanium in a blizzard. You click your mouth shut before he decides to use those swords on you.

Luffy frowns. It’s an unnerving look on him. “Well, whatever you were before, you’re with us now.” He pauses. “Eh, what’s your name, by the way?”

More annoyed groans from the other two. Nami pinches the bridge of her nose hard enough for you to worry she might bruise it. Zoro turns away, so nonplussed that he might as well be a subtraction sign.

You think to yourself. What is your name? Your parents gave you one name, then it got changed on you, and then you got rid of that one and picked out a new one.

You give him that one. You're fond of it and it rolls off the tongue well enough.

He repeats it back and his smile returns. “Great! So that’s four of us. Good starting number--”

The crack of cannonfire splits the air, followed by an explosion.

It’s a little gratifying to see something other than annoyed disinterest on Nami’s face. “Marines?” she asks.

“Told you she’d be trouble,” Zoro says.

They run on deck. Luffy helps you to your feet so you can follow. Streaks of red rain down upon you like the boughs of a willow. It's beautiful in a concerning way, like a poisonous frog.

You’d be more concerned if you had any idea what you were looking at. Naval smoke bombs are usually a searing neon orange to better stand out against the sea and sky. Not to mention that they’re next to useless at night. This is... well, you’re not sure what it is. But whatever it is, it’s bad news.

A whistle splits the air, followed by another plume of red smoke. A powdery scent hits your nose, accompanied by something familiar. But what? Smells like talc and the anesthetic they use on pack animals...

...uh-oh.

“Kids," you say, "find something soft to land on."

Too late. Nami drops to her knees, then hits the deck with a painful thunk. Zoro fares no better and you really hope he didn’t land on his swords.

Well, no use in fighting it. You barely manage to make it back into the cabin, slumping against the bench before your legs give out. Darkness edges at the corners of your vision, and your eyes droop shut.

Footsteps make you open them. Luffy scrambles for the map and, after a moment of contemplation, tips his head back. Perhaps it’s the gas hitting you, but you can’t help but be awed as it disappears, little by little, down the kid’s gullet.

He swallows, grimacing. He then notices you.

You look at Luffy. Luffy looks at you.

“Cool,” you mumble.

Your eyelids come crashing down, and all you see are kaleidoscopes.

---

Well, that was a fucking disaster. Started out well, everyone hit their marks, and then that guy in the spot booth fucked his grand entrance up. Again. He's gonna strangle that fucker.

But that's a Tomorrow Buggy problem. Right Now Buggy has something more important to deal with: four upjumped little shitstains who stole his boat and his map.

“I've been scheming for weeks to get that map from old Axe-Hand--” Ooh, this one’s good. This'll knock 'em dead. “Moron!”

He pauses for a beat. Miss Ginger does not react, just stares at him in fear and disgust. He’s a little disappointed, but whatever. Can't land 'em all.

And then he hears it. A loud snnnnnrrrrrk, the tell-tale sign of a repressed laugh. He turns.

He'd gotten a look at all four people on the ship as they'd been hauled aboard, but you'd completely slipped his mind. A sliver of your smile flashes in the light before your eyes go wide and you slap your hand over your mouth. You look everywhere but at him, eyes darting around.

He gives you a quick appraisal. Tall, dark, in uniform. Interesting. He’ll grill you later.

Which comes sooner than expected. Miss Ginger pulls a fast one and tries to escape. He’s already got a bead on Rubber Boy and the bounty hunter, so now it’s your turn.

“Ya know, I've always found some small charm to a woman in uniform,” he chirps as he approaches you.

You stare dead ahead -- right at his nose -- and swallow stiffly. You rattle off a name, rank, and a string of numbers he doesn’t care about. He’s too busy studying your face.

And what a face it is. Roundish, but not plump. Tanned, but not burnt. The beginnings of lines crease the space between your brows. Eyes as dark as the sky opposite the dawn stare right through him and you’ve got thick, black hair to match. Damn shame you have to put it up in a cap.

Despite standing at parade rest, you spin one of the many rings on your fingers -- those don’t look regulation. You’re nervous about something, something that isn’t just the fact you're being stared down by Buggy the Clown.

You start to rattle off your identification number again. He waves his hand at you. “Just tell me where my map is, Miss Gyrene,” he says.

You bristle like an old toothbrush. It's cute. “You want that map, you’ll have to gut him--”

You clap your hand over your mouth again, eyes darting back and forth. Rubber Boy flinches slightly.

So you and Rubber Boy know where it is, and the bounty hunter and Miss Ginger don’t. Good to know.

Speaking of which, they haul her back inside soon enough. She gives him an earful and he continues to not care. He dismisses her and the bounty hunter, but stops his goons before they can haul away you and Rubber Boy.

“Not them.” He points at the two of you and crooks his fingers.

Rubber Boy wanders over with no prodding -- not an ounce of self-preservation in this one -- but you struggle as they drag you closer. He likes that little spark of fight. Makes it all the more fun to snuff it out. 

"I'm gonna have a chat with my stretchy new pal. And as for you..." He gives you his toothiest, showiest smile. “Well, there’s always a place in my show for a beautiful woman with a sense of humor.”

---

Now ya done it, ya dumb bitch.

Maybe if you'd stayed quiet, you wouldn’t have had Barry Buzzy Buggy getting up in your business. Maybe you wouldn't have missed Nami's cue to leg it -- not that she got far. Maybe you wouldn’t have been voluntold for the position of lovely assistant.

But no. You had to be so nervous and jittery that you couldn't help but laugh at the dumbest thing you ever wished you'd thought of yourself.

Axe-Hand Moron. Heh.

And so here you stand, cranking a wheel on demand, assisting in the torture of the only person who's been nice to you all day. All week, even.

Not that it's really torture. Luffy seems mostly fine. Ish. He screams a bit whenever the rack stretches him, but it quickly gives way to laughter. Good to know that at least one person isn't miserable in here.

Blinky Biggy Buggy is eerily calm. He conducts himself like a shrink, probing for reasons to slap his patient with a Section 8. Or a man of the cloth, urging a stray member of his flock to self-reflect. Or a prehistoric high priest, preparing the sacrifice for slaughter.

"Oh, Miss Gyrene, dear?" he calls in a sing-song voice. "Give us another... I dunno, ten feet?"

Definitely a high priest. Definitely a sacrifice. And here you are with no choice but to twist the ceremonial knife.

...but you do have a choice. Your medical satchel hangs heavy at your side. Do no harm. You wonder why they let you keep it.

Regardless, you give the wheel a crank. Sorry, kid.

"Thanks, sweetheart." The clown returns his attention to your little buddy. Tormenting him. Grilling him. Finally finding an exposed nerve and striking out at it.

You don't listen to what they're saying. Your sanity, heavy as a sledgehammer, hangs on by a rapidly fraying thread. 

What have you done? You threw away your life on a lark. Again. Why do you keep doing this to yourself?

Because you were miserable, that's why. You were miserable before. You were miserable again. So instead of dealing with your problems, you left. Coward.

Didn’t you try, though? You talked to them. One threw you in the brig. The other popped you in the mouth. So you went above their heads. One wrote you up. The other slapped you down. Only then did you burn the bridges -- absent without leave on one count, a mysterious abduction on the other.

The clown is having a moment, yelling at Luffy's hat. You wish you had a hat to yell at. But no one in either of your lives was big on headgear.

You know what? There’s no gun to your head. No threat of being thrown in the brig. Death is certain, sure, but... If you go through with this, if your saving grace dies because of you, is your life really worth living?

The clown orders you to crank the wheel 'til Luffy snaps. It registers somewhere in your mind, but you’re too caught up in your internal spiral to acknowledge it. Take a ticket and get in line with all of the other demands.

"Hey!" the clown barks. "You deaf?!"

Tiny little strands of your common sense, snapping and spinning and fraying, one by one. Just leave. Simply walk away. Or give that fucker a piece of your mind. You’re free to backtalk for once. 

The clown huffs. "So hard to find good help these days," he mutters. "Gotta do everything my own damn self..."

You don't have to do anything you don't want to. You're a pirate now. The worst that could happen is death and after the times you've had, that doesn't sound too bad today.

Bitumen Blitzen Buggy stands opposite from you. He grabs the handles and gives the wheel a turn.

The thread snaps. The hammer drops. Your sanity and your last shred of self-preservation shatter like a dropped vase. 

Your grip on the wheel tightens, stopping his cranking. You look him dead in the eyes.

"No," you say. 

The clown stares at you, gaze wide and bright as a searchlight. "Excuse me?"

"I said no." Grabbing the bottommost spokes, you heave the wheel upwards, slackening the lines. 

The glare Buoy Bursary Buggy levels at you flickers a moment. To what, you can't tell, but it returns to normal soon enough. He grips the wheel and pushes against you.

“I offer you a place of honor in my show," he says, voice rising with every word, “and you repay me with a no?”

You push back. “I'm not gonna help torture a kid. Not today. Not ever.”

After a moment of a push-pull stalemate, he loosens his grip just enough for you to lurch forward. Taking advantage of your stumble, he tightens the line. "I could find a geriatric, if that's more your style. Mister Mayor is getting up there in years."

You regain your grip. You reach deep inside yourself to summon the strength you need. Summon all the rage you've kept buried. All the fire and fury.

"I--" You grab one spoke. "--said--" Then another. "--no!"

With a mighty heave that hurts your shoulders and makes your elbows pop, the clown loses his grip and the wheel spins out. The lines lose all of their tension and Luffy hits the ground with a smack and an "oof."

You glare at the clown. In his face, you see every person who ever made you do something you didn't want to do.

Morgan. His spawn. Your birth family. Your marital family. And now a literal clown.

You spin the wheel hard. The spokes whack Blasphemy Bathymetry Buggy in the chin a few times, knocking him back a step.

You throw your Marine hat down, freeing your mane from its prison. You pull the bobby pins out and shake it like a dog coming in from the rain. With a mighty toss, you let it fall down your back.

You feel freer already.

You don't expect him to be cowed, but you'd at least hoped he would look a little taken aback by the sight of an ex-Marine with eight fingers full of rings ready to throw a punch.

But no. He just straightens up, rubbing his jaw. You can't read his face in this light. Scorn? Pity? Interest? You have no idea as he peers at you with pale eyes.

He speaks. With the gentle tone he uses, he sounds almost genuine. "Gotta hand it to you, Miss Gyrene: you've got balls."

Genuine enough to knock you off-balance. "Say again?"

"Standing up to someone ready to kill you," he says. He takes a few steps towards you. "Awfully brave. You done this before?"

He's not wrong. That sudden burst of spit and vinegar came from a decade of pent-up misery. "Kinda," you admit.

He steps a little closer. From far away, all you could make out of his face was his makeup. But now you see features you weren't expecting. Strong jaw. Cleft chin. Eyes you can't tell the color of -- blue? Green? The dim light is no help.

"No stage fright on you, kid."

He reaches towards you. You flinch, but all he does is tuck a strand of hair behind your ears with a gentle touch. He lingers on your cheek.

He's not much taller than you, but when he's this close, you have to lean back to peer up at him. His gaze is soft, his lips curled into something close to a smile, head tilted just so.

Your heartbeat quickens. Why? You have absolutely no idea. 

Now he smiles, albeit thinly. He's close enough for the peak of your breasts to touch his chest. He radiates warmth, even through all of his clothes.

"Who was it that hurt you?" he asks quietly. "Was it one person? Or a whole troupe of terrors?"

You swallow. Names and faces swirl around in your head. Aunty Yoko. Sakazuki. Uncle Arun. Morgan. Mama Shruti. Nezumi. Mr. Jaswinder Rajendra. Helmeppo. Dowager Chambeli.

Your voice trembles like a harp string about to snap. "Too many to count."

“Sorry to hear that.” His lips purse. "Don't suppose one of them was ol' Axe-Hand Moron?"

Your traitorous mind still finds that funny. You manage to keep your lips shut, but the snnnnrrrrk escapes through your nose all the same.

You try to look away, but he touches your chin and tips your head back towards him. 

The clown is smiling. A real, up to his scrunched eyes smile without a hint of malice. A giggle bubbles through his lips, light and airy. It almost sounds cute.

Your heart flutters again. Like a hummingbird trapped in a birdcage, tickling your ribs and making you want to vomit all over your shoes. "Morgan's a jerk," you say.

He nods. He takes your hand in his own, clutching it as he raises it higher. "I'll tell you what, sweetheart: if you tell me where my map is..."

He leans in. His warm breath tickles your ear. He smells like a tube of fancy lipstick you can't afford and sea air that blows through a bar window.

"...we'll go blow that old geezer and his base to kingdom come," he whispers, a smile still in his voice. "You and me and all my freaks. I'll even call in some favors. We'll have a whole fleet. And your little friends can come too, if they play nice."

Now that's a thought you'd entertained more than once over the years. Blow up Morgan. Stab Morgan. Feed Morgan to sharks. Set Morgan on fire. But it only ever remained a thought.

You're not sure how to feel about that. "You'd start a war over me," you state.

"What can I say?" He pulls backwards, eyes twinkling beneath his lashes. He strokes your knuckles with his thumb. "A face like yours deserves to launch a thousand ships."

Raising your hand to his lips, looking into your eyes, he places a lingering kiss on your knuckles.

For the briefest of moments, the hummingbird breaks free and zips right into your throat, stuck there between your trachea and your heart, still flapping hard. Your chest burns with a fire you haven't felt in a long time, flames licking up to your cheeks to scorch them red.

And then you're catapulted back in time, back to when a handsome man kissed your hand and smiled and made promises and you fell head over heels down the stairs.

It all changed in time. The kisses stopped. The smiles vanished. The promises were forgotten and shoved into the back of the closet. You started falling a lot more often.

Never again.

You yank your hand back. "Nice try," you growl, "but I'm not stupid."

He has the gall to pretend to look hurt, his smile slipping from his face and the glimmer in his eyes winking out. But his gaze hardens, and his cruel smile returns.

"Shame," he says. "Guess I'll just throw you on the rack instead."

You try to jump away, but he strikes like a snake, wrenching your arms at awkward angles and gripping you so tight you worry you might bruise.

“Let her go, Boogie," Luffy growls.

Grip still firm, Boogie Bouffant Buggy whirls around with you. Luffy is on his feet, free of his shackles and glowering. It's still unnerving to see anything but a smile on his face.

"It's Buggy," the clown spits. His grip on you tightens, and you cry out. "And why should I? We were hitting it off so well! Weren't we, darling?"

He simpers the last word and grabs you by the waist, pulling your hips right against his. He places his head on your shoulder, his stubble scratching your cheek.

"We were about to start picking out flowers and sending out invites and everything."

This man has triple backflipped right off the deep end. You keep struggling. You manage to hook your leg behind his, but the angle is too poor for a takedown.

He kisses your cheek. A big, ridiculous mmmmmmwah, but a kiss nevertheless. You gasp. He laughs and throws his arm wide.

"Screw the RSVPs! Everyone is invited to the Fabulously Flashy Wedding of Buggy and--!"

Two things happen at once. Luffy reels back a punch, the stretch of his skin audible. You grab Buggy’s arm, finally in a position for a takedown.

And then two other things happen. Luffy's arm snaps back like an elastic cord and punches the clown’s head clean off. You crash to the ground holding a severed arm.

Someone screams. It was you. You drop the limb like a bad habit and scramble away.

You look at Luffy. Luffy looks at you.

You both look at his fist, at your hands, then back to the headless clown, still standing.

---

Buggy didn't go into this intending to get up close and intimate with you. It just kinda happened.

Who can blame him? You flexed those big strong muscles and let down that long pretty hair and you looked so hurt and frustrated. Like an angry little kitten in need of some TLC.

So he threw you a bone. All the while, you gazed at him with those deep, dark eyes, hanging onto his every word.

He meant them as much as he could. He doesn't have the firepower to take on the whole Marine operation, but he could swing something. You seem like the kind of woman worth blowing up Marine bases for. Or a battleship, at the very least.

Shame you threw your lot in with the rubber punk.

Your skin is so warm beneath his gloves, your body so supple against his. And your hair smells very, very strongly of vanilla and... Is that cinnamon? It can't be. It's too citrusy. Regardless, it's hypnotic.

He just can't help himself. This might be the only chance he's got. He tips your head to the side and kisses your cheek.

And it's everything he hoped it would be. Your skin is so soft, so warm, so sweet beneath his lips and squished against his nose. He wishes he could linger there forever. But everything good must come to an end, and he pulls away before he overstays his welcome.

Next thing he knows, he's flying through the air. Well, just his head. He lands in an audience member's lap. She screams, of course. He plays it off with a wink and a quip.

He zooms back to his body and reattaches with a pop. Seems his arm is gone as well. He gives it a flex and clenches his fist, making you scramble away and to your feet. Terrified is a cute look on you.

"You ate a Devil Fruit?" Rubber Boy asks. He sticks his arm in front of you like it would actually help.

"Sure did!" Buggy chirps. He recalls his arm and shucks his coat, one sleeve at a time. "The Chop Chop Fruit. So you can slice me and you can dice me, but I'll always pull myself back together."

He separates his limbs from his torso and his head from his neck, just because he can. It's worth seeing the shock on your faces. Especially yours. Open-mouthed and wide-eyed. Good look on you.

It takes all of his self control to not grin as he folds his arms behind his back. "Wanna see what else I can do?"

He sends his hand skittering up your back and onto your shoulder. You scream as it jumps at Rubber Boy's face, and he yelps as well. His other hand positions itself to the side.

When you're both suitably distracted, he grabs both of your heads and slams yours against Rubber Boy's. With a sharp crack, out go the lights and you both crumple to the ground.

"Sorry, dear," he says. “Never would have worked between us.”

---

All this going unconscious is going to scramble your brains, you think as you stir. You shouldn't make a habit of it.

You open your eyes. A thin light shines right on you, burning your vision. Are you dead? Have you died?

No, your head is throbbing. Pain means you're alive. At least you've still got your medical satchel. Its presence against your side is a small comfort.

You sit up. Next to you lies Luffy, stirring slowly.

You nudge him. “You okay, kid?” you ask.

He gives his head a shake as he sits up. He smiles and it's like putting on a comfy sweater. “I'm bouncy. I can take a hit." He tips his head like a puppy. "What about you?” 

"I'll have a migraine in a few hours, but I'll survive."

You go to touch the lump on your head -- only to take Luffy's wrist with you. You're cuffed together, two metal shackles connected by just enough rope to hang yourselves with. He pulls at his own shackle, but it’s stuck fast.

"I can't get it off," he says, eyes wide. "I can't stretch!"

“Of course you can't. It's lined with Seastone.” 

A spotlight switches on. Buggy the Clown sits atop the edge of a large box draped in candy-striped fabric. He kicks his legs like a child sitting on a bench, twirling Luffy's hat in his hand.

“The essence of the ocean, compressed into a pretty little rock." Slowly, he pulls a yellow straw from the hat. "So not only do you have to worry about getting your feet wet, all those wonderful powers are completely useless when you least expect it.”

Besides you, Luffy bristles. You grab his hand to stop him from charging. He tenses, but squeezes back.

Buggy examines the straw, then flicks it away. “You gonna give me my map?”

Luffy scowls. “Never.”

"Not sure what I was expecting." He rolls his eyes, then turns them on you. “And what about you, sweetheart?”

You don't appreciate being patronized. "I'm gonna make you eat your hair," you spit.

“Aw, c’mon. Where do you have to go? You deserted. You’ll never be safe again.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Join the crew of the future King of the Pirates, and you'll have all the protection you need.” He gestures broadly. “Hell, if it really matters, your little buddy can come too. The more the merrier."

You enunciate every letter of the word. “No,” you say.

The calm interrogator evaporates, replaced by a petulant child. He slams his fists against the top of the box. “Well, why not--!?”

The box rocks and rattles violently. He yelps and hangs on for dear life, succeeding in staying atop it as the shaking stops. He huffs. “Fine. Have it your way."

He climbs to his feet and shoots his hands off to grab the corners of the tarp. Raising them reveals a black, rancid-smelling cavern.

“My kitty cat's been restless lately,” he says. “Lucky that I have a new pair of toys for him."

A low growl vibrates the very air around you.

You look at Luffy. Luffy looks at you.

“That wasn’t your stomach, was it?” you ask.

He shakes his head. "Was it yours?"

Another growl. Out from the darkness emerges the biggest lion you’ve ever seen. Mangy. Mean. Saliva drips from his bloodstained mouth as his eyes fix right on you.

Luffy swallows. "I think we should run," he says quietly.

You nod. “I think you’re right.”

The lion roars.

---

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