#he’s a fisherman now not a pirate

[bbyteach]

Ed tries to explain his new hobby but stede just tags along for the view I assume

#ofmd #blackbonnet #our flag means death #gentlebeard #ofmd spoilers #my draws #ed x stede #Edward teach #born on a beach #he’s a fisherman now not a pirate

[sarucane]

Why did Ed think becoming a fisherman made any sense at all?

Seriously, this was always a ridiculous idea. Stede gets zero blame for laughing the first time Ed says it--it's an even crazier and more extreme whim than Ed saying "we'll go to China." And it's reasonable that it blindsides Stede for Ed to be leaving--a few hours ago Ed was making Stede breakfast in bed and taking Stede out to his favorite restaurant, and now he's leaving forever. That's a hell of a mindfuck there. So why does Ed think it makes sense to follow this whim?

Ed starts this episode by throwing away his leathers. He's trying to discard and excise the 'kraken' part of his personality, trying to consciously transform into something else (hence wearing Button's clothes).

At first, he's also trying to embrace being with Stede.

He volunteers information that shows how important Stede is to him by describing the mermaid vision. But, just like when he told Stede about how "sometimes it's nice to just be patient," Ed's not directly owning his feelings here. He's skimming right past the fact that it was he, himself, who was choosing (unconsciously, but still choosing) to die, and his bond to Stede is why he came back. In fact, the closest he comes to actually saying he felt a certain way is by admitting he panicked over the twine.

And Stede, who just feels so secure in this relationship right now, more comfortable in his skin than we've ever seen him, just does not get Ed's insecurity. He doesn't reassure Ed by saying "the breakfast is great with or without the twine" he says "it actually made it!" And when Ed tells about the vision, Stede doesn't seem to register how big a deal it was.

They're not communicating here, they're just not. They've had this very intimate experience, but there's still distance between them. The visuals reinforce this: they're at opposite ends of the bed, they don't come close to touching at any point in the scene. Ed's dressed and Stede's comfortably naked.

Ed snuck out of bed and went to throw his leathers away by himself. He doesn't tell Stede what he's done, and Stede doesn't comment on Ed walking around in Buttons' clothes. Ed's thrown away the kraken--and then he watches Stede embrace being "a sea god."

And this fear and disconnection to Stede goes right back to how Ed's been acting ever since he came back. He's not been opening up to Stede. He's not been willing to get vulnerable with Stede again; he doesn't trust himself not to wreck it and get his heart broken, and he doesn't trust Stede not to break his heart. The filmmaking choices (bless this amazing meta for explaining it all) have been signaling this ever since they found each other again: they love each other, but they're on different wavelengths.

Ed's trust in Stede is brittle, even before he gets the idea that he and Stede want different things out of life (piracy vs anything-but-piracy). So, Ed goes out and sits with himself. Then he takes Izzy's suggestion and he listens to himself, to his desire not to live a certain life anymore.

But rather than deciding to talk to Stede about this, he decides he's going to leave before the conversation even starts.

Ed gets really, really close to real communication with Stede here. He admits that he doesn't feel safe in the relationship, and that the speed and intensity that Stede has reveled in have made Ed feel less safe.

And even now, even though he lost all track of Ed for a big chunk of the day and now he's being surprised by deep withdrawal--Stede is still all in. He could have been heartbroken or angry. He could have panicked and apologized, or frozen and shut down the conversation.

Instead, Stede listens. And he tries to make good on what he told Ed: "I love everything about you."

But Ed doesn't really hear this, because he doesn't trust Stede, the connection between them, or himself. Because "Trust no one" includes not trusting oneself.

Rather than engaging with what Stede actually says, Ed starts ranting, and uses his own insecurities to push Stede away. Stede's right, it is panic.

Stede mirrors Ed's body language all through this part of the scene. He gets what's happening, understands insecurity and what it can trigger (particularly related to an insecurity of "I'm bad for you you're better off without me") deeply--which is why it's so easy for him to forgive this later.

But while Stede understands exactly what's going on now that Ed's finally talking to him directly, for Ed it's all confusing and happening much too fast. So he shuts down, lashes out, and bails out.

Figuring himself out is complicated, navigating his relationship with Stede is complicated, trust and self-realization are complicated. Fishing, on the other hand, is simple. Unlike love or psychological integration, there's no risks in fishing.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd s2 #ofmd spoilers #ed teach #ofmd meta #stede bonnet #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #edward teach #blackbeard #seriously ed catching a fish and being a fisherman are not the same thing #you're worse than stede deciding now he'll be a pirate captain #cause at least he thought it through even if half of what he thought was wrong #nothing's simple man and no one is simple either #there are plenty of risks in fishermaning ed ended up regressing to childhood abuse within a few hours that's not how life works man

[puppyeared]

Grandpa!! New oc wip, supposed to be a mentor figure to Xin Ya :)

You can thank @meonut for the last 2 images LMAO

#im trying to get the hang of drawing his body style but it’s kinda fun lol #he used to be a pirate but now he’s a retired fisherman. he can still kick ass though #I haven’t thought of a name yet but it would be fun to name him after my grandpa #my art #myart #my oc #oc #grandpa #lmk oc #doodles

[dendromancer]

no because they're obviously going to be so embarassing during their inkeepers era. ed fucking hates nature, rude customers and doing any kind of manual work as observed in the fisherman job. now that he's back with stede, he will fully embrace his pillow princess nature and you know it. stede on the other hand, is used to either his hot pirate gaysona or melon spoons and silk linen. he's going to be so cringefail during work hours and absolutely won't know how to deal with anything. he's just gonna be reciting gruesome pirate tales and how he met ed. which absolutely no one asked for. not to mention that the inn is in the middle of fucking nowhere, which means it will have the success of mary and anne's antique shop

they're going to be so insufferable and i'm SEATED

#ofmd #our flag means death #tp

[flowerandthesongstress]

complaints I've already seen about Coral Island, a new Indonesian kickstarter cozy game: the barman selling a ruined dish is an uncalled-for jab at restaurant workers! cats shouldn't hang out outdoors! eew, this woman shouldn't display her pregnancy stretch marks! where are all the kippot! why is everyone in such good shape! preposterous! this partially deaf character talking in caps lock is triggering me! no one in doctors without borders would be that tattooed, this dreadful representation is literal murder! no doctor would forget her paperwork at a library, for that matter! why is a japanese fisherman talking like a scottish pirate, this is inaccurate!

meanwhile in the game: I freed a stone statue from a magical underground prison and he put an enchantment on my hoe. his brother asked me if I liked figs is he flirting. my hippie boyfriend is heartbroken because his bucket-wearing pet duck is sick but shhh watching tv will heal him. last night when I talked to the outdoors cat she mentioned that she has a crippling fear of birds and thinks of getting therapy. a stem academic looks like a kpop idol and is getting enough sleep. he wears his astrophysics degree all over himself like a linguist would have worn alphabet necklaces, just to spite his dad but it's not working why is it not working ah shit it's working. mermaids hired me as a janitor. it's not pro bono I'm paid in diamonds. my neighbor is worried that his shiba inu went back to rejoin the mountain whence it came from. a turtle won't let me pass until I serve her spaghetti. I'm fighting capitalism with a literal scythe. the local blacksmith is asking my opinion regarding a legendary battle hammer and if it's worth the logistics hassle. it's been a year crabs are still dancing in celebration their zeal is admirable but their choreography could use some work. this giant monkey covered in two layers of meta wants to sell me a nostalgic souvenir. I know it because he sent me a polite letter. how many propaganda flyers can I fish out of this pond a challenge. I barged into a local lab and upended a barrel of seaweed over intricate circuitry now my flowers are five percent prettier. the scientist at the lab attached a mermish translator to my diving suit via the power of coffee. hold on I'm doing meal prep for next week let me finish putting ectoplasmic slime on okra

#You Are A Tar Pit #Only ONE of these is untrue #hyperbole shmyperbole but come on #It's a game where an ASIAN PARENT APOLOGIZES TO HIS CHILD #It's an escapist fairytale so could you please unclench your gluteal muscles for five. minutes. #coral island #indie games

[theroyalyandere]

About the yan!fisherman. What about a cute little siren darling that’s too colorful and loud for their own good, only to get ensnared by a angry deep sea fisherman captain. Who only promises to let them go if he can have a wish in return. (Old mermaid tales say mermaids could grant wishes to those who save them or return their hair comb) And darlings like, I wouldn’t need saving if you’d let me go. I’m not granting you a wish just because you threaten me. ( like pirates of the Caribbean, they’re hard to crack) so the fisherman captain keeps his darling on his ship in a converted tank and kills off the rest of the crew. Eventually wearing away the mermaid darlings resolve till they say yes. And the captain had been thinking about wishing the mermaid to be human but knows those tales never end well. Either his prize runs back to the sea, or one of them dies before the other due to a shortened mortal life. Which doesn’t appeal because he hates land and wants to be out at sea which he can’t if he’s constantly making sure they don’t leave him. And he wants to be with them for eternity, regardless of darling’s wishes.

So he kills two birds with one stone and wishes “for my heart’s desire”. Only the wish is twisted by his obsession, unbeknownst to darling. But they still grant it because they believe his one true desire is greed like most humans… which they’re not wrong. So he becomes a huge terrifying shark merman, or maybe a cecalia, or giant sea snake naga.

And now you’ve got a sea monster that hates humans and his shiny little siren that he can make scream and sing others to their death.

… or what about a reverse harem of deep sea fishermen turned into sea monsters to protect their little darling by one tainted wish. Darling grants the captain’s wish and it “condemns” the small boat like Davy Jones. So now mermaid darling has more to outswim.

oh my god??? I can't describe how genius you are anon! mermaid darling and her yan!fisherman turned into sea monster?!!! I'm going to combine both of the ideas and make a sea monster harem instead becauseeeeeeeeee 😮‍💨🤭 I only know a little about pirates of the Caribbean so please forgive me with the inaccuracies and I'm sorry if this is pretty short, I can continue this and turn this into a series if you like!

note: mermaid!darling is referred to as she/her please don't read if you don't feel comfortable thank you!

Warnings: yandere, dark content, gore/body horror, kidnapping, prey/hunter dynamics, death threats, manipulation

yan!sea monster harem x mermaid!darling/reader

As a mermaid, you've heard from your sisters that some of those like you were captured from those above.

You did not exactly expect to be captured by one of them, especially them.

You blame your colorful tail for attracting too much attention, you managed to throw everyone who went after you so far and your sisters think you're truly lucky but this time you ran out of luck.

Not only are you aware of the bounty set upon your head, you are also believed to be the most powerful of all mermaids which they aren't wrong about. However you have not granted any humans a wish yet. As you believe them to be the most vile of beings.

They are too brutish and rude and cruel. You did not like them one bit.

As soon as you got caught into their net you did not hesitate to flail around as an attempt to set yourself free. You snarled at everyone showing your viscious at the pesky humans.

Your sharp claws tear out through the net and smack everything with your tail. Unfortunately you got stopped by the captain.

His tall, menacing frame looming over you like a boulder with a grumpy face. He shows no reaction at your defensive state and it only scares you more than the other way around.

He corners you and kneels down to your level, he gave you an offer.

The captain will only let you go once you grant a wish of his however in your fury you instead jumped into him and pinned him down, snarling as you try to choke him.

His crew surrounds you each with a weapon in their hand, threatening to kill you unless you let go.

You kept being defiant until one of them got to restrain you setting your victim free.

The poor crew mate groans as he tries to not let you go.

The captain ordered for you to be hidden in the ship until they figure out how to break you.

So you get hidden in a cabin into a tank filled with water allowing you to live above the sea.

As long as they keep you, you refuse to agree to their conditions. Their offers being returned with a glare or an attack from you.

Until, one of the younger crew got closer to you. Watching and observing how you interact with the young one.

They all secretly watch as you the young crew mate won you over with their smiles and gentle demeanor, granting them the opportunity to see another side of yourself.

Your heart begins to soften and sing a song for the youngster.

The other crew told this to the captain and watched with his own eyes the scene unfolding. He urges the crew mate to get closer to you.

One by one they start to get obsessed with you. The crew either fight on who's turn to give you some food to eat or they wrestle among each other who gets to hear you sing to them first.

It only got worse when the captain got involved, one night he caught himself listening to your melodies and felt something he had never experienced before.

He eventually chased for this feeling and he knew that only you can satisfy him and his dark desires.

So his desire further strayed away from what he wanted and darker as his desires were focused on you.

At one point his impatience got into him and barged into the cabin you're at and threatens to kill the crew mate you grew fond of, your eyes pool with pearls and panic present on your face as you try to grab onto him.

He tells you that he will certainly finish the crew mate if you don't agree immediately, he asks you to grant his wish and you ask him what it is. He replies..

"for my heart's desire"

You assume it has something to do with wealth and power but oh you were wrong.

You watch as the captain slowly morphs into a sea monster. The scene is so grotesque that you tried to shield yourself away from the scene.

Outside the cabin, the whole crew starts to fall ill and scream in pain as their bodies start to turn different. Their skin turning into scales or being covered by corals and such.

Even the young crew mate you adored was not spared from the awful transformation. As the wish manifests into reality so does a storm, overturning the ship upside down as an enormous wave swallows the ship whole.

The ship gets wrecked and you try to escape into the ocean and swim away only to get caught by a powerful force wrapped around you and you turn to face it.

Only a horrifying sight greets you as the crew were turned into predatory monsters that will sure haunt all over the seas.

The one keeping you captive is the captain, he became an enormous sea monster that towers over you. With long tentacles and his eyes glowing with evil.

His tentacles engulf your whole being as you struggle to get out of his hold, blocking you away from the rest of the world.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere smut #fem reader #fem!reader #female reader #yandere sea monster #yan!sea monster #yan!fisherman #yandere fisherman #mermaid reader #mermaid darling

[asumofwords]

Lighthouse - Sailor!Aemond x LighthouseKeeper!Reader - Mini Series

Summary: You work as a lone Lighthouse keeper on a small island just off the coast. Everyday was the same routine, tending to your duties and the lamp with not much time to spare. But what will happen to your routine when a storm rages across the sea, and a handsome man washes ashore?

Warnings: This fic is 18+. Readers discretion is advised. Warnings will be added in their relevance. She/Her Pronouns. Slow burn, pining, kiss.

Note: EEEE! Here is chapter two of my little mini-series! Thank you all so much for your patience for this update, to say it has been hard has been an understatement. An odd thing to put into the notes of a fanfic, but From the River, to the Sea. 🇵🇸

Chapter 2: Unfamiliar Changes

The next few days were the same routine as usual, but with a new addition; A man who had been at deaths door, recovering in your bed. 

The lighthouse, you knew. 

You knew the way to light it, tend to it, care for it. It had been your life for many years ever since your Pa had died, leaving its responsibilities to you.

It had been him who taught you everything. He who had raised you to know what you now do, to do as you now do each day. And you were thankful. Thankful to not be married to a Fishermans son, or market boy at a young age, to squeeze out child, after child, in a marriage that had no love or care but rather a societal duty. 

But now, there was a man in your home. 

A man on your small, little, isolated island which you sought refuge in. An island and isolation that had been all you had known, and yet now, here he was, laid in your bed with hair like spun silk that lay around his head, a violet eye you had only heard in the tales on shore, a scarred cheek and sharp mouth. 

Was he a pirate?

You had heard of those, but for some reason, he didn’t seem to be as brash and roguish as those stories either. And whilst his presence was not all begrudged, it did throw your small little world into a loop. So with the duties of old, came the duties of new. 

You would rest, only shortly, wake, and tend to the lamp, the storm slowly moving away inland, but the winds too high to take your small boat alone, or send your pigeon with a letter to alert them of the wreck and lone survivor.

Thereafter, you could come back inside, fix yourself a tea, and here began the new routine; you would make two instead of one. 

Two plates or bowls of food. 

Two cups or glasses of water, or tea.

Two of everything. 

One for you.

And one for the man. 

A man who still had not told you his name.

That was until that evening.

The winds had begun to yield, but the soft grumbling of thunder still prevailed in the near distance.

You were eating the last of your stew together, though this time, he was seated at the table. You having dragged the only other chair on the island down the many stairs of the lighthouse to the cottage. 

He was still rather pale, and wheezed and coughed on occasion, but after his many days in your presence, you realised that he was not pale because of his ailment, but rather, his skin was just as white as the porcelain William’s wife owned. His cheeks however, gained some colour, and his lips were no longer cracked and dry, but now hydrated.

And plump.

And soft.

And-

“-Aemond.”

The spoon you were holding clinked back onto the side of the bowl.

“Pardon?”

“My name,” The man put another spoonful of stew into his mouth, chewing before swallowing politely, “Is Aemond.”

You tested the name on your tongue. It was definitely not a common name from around your part of the world.

“I take it you are a long way from home?” You chewed on a chunk of potato, watching as the man nodded.

“Aye.”

“Your ship-“

“-Vhagar.” So that’s what its name was, “Sunk to the bottom of the sea, I presume.” His lips pulled down at the sides.

You nodded solemnly, “Was your family-“

“-No. No family. Just me and my crew.”

You cleared your throat awkwardly before nodding, “I’m sorry. Though we have the Gods to thank. They favoured you when they washed you ashore.”

Aemond, the man before you, scoffed, “Favoured. Sunk my ship and my men. Drowned me.”

You sucked your teeth, feeling slightly guilty about your choice of words, “Yes, and yet you are here. I prayed-“

“-You prayed?”

A nod, though his gaze seemed more intrigued than mocking, “To the Drowned God. Prayed to anyone who would listen to spare your life.”

You watched as the corner of his lip twitched, “And why should a Lady such as you, pray for a sailor such as me?”

“I’d hardly like to deal with a corpse on my beach." You stirred your stew, "And I am no Lady, I have told you this.”

The snort from his nose made way into a smile that was contagious. 

At least you could be blunt.

And in some ways, you supposed that he liked this bluntness. 

You shared your meal together quietly, the crackling of the fire and sound of rain and occasional thunder outside. You found, much to your displeasure, that you did not mind having his company after all.

He did not talk to fill the space, and seemed to think deeply before he spoke, at least when he was not irritated or slightly offended by your own remarks. All in all, he was a welcomed presence in your modest home.

And that was what scared you.

“Do you often have drowned men wash ashore?” His spoon was delicately placed in his bowl, bread devoured shortly after given to him. The way in which he ate, the manner in which he sat back, rod stiff, indicated to you that he came from some form of high society, far higher than you, and likely came from money and wealth that you could do naught but try to imagine. 

You smiled coyly, “You’re the first. An achievement to some end, I am sure.”

The corner of his lips pulled again, yet this time, it developed into a full smirk, “Then I am honoured to have been the first, Miss.”

A blush rose to your cheeks, and you had to look away.

The way in which he spoke, the way his voice became deep and smooth like the whiskey in your cupboard, had sent shivers down your spine with the implication that perhaps there was a double meaning to what he said.

To what you had said. 

But then he continued, “And how does a woman of your stature become the keeper of this Lighthouse?”

“My Pa. He was the keeper before I. Taught me all there was to know. It was just me and him on this island for a long, long time, and now it is just me.”

“Is your father-“

“-Dead.”

“I see.” Aemond nodded, “I am sorry for your loss.”

“Don’t be.” You gave him a small smile, “He died doing what he loved.”

A silver eyebrow raised above the man’s seeing eye, “And what was that?”

“Drinking on the job.” You poked your tongue in your cheek to stifle the laugh as you watched Aemond’s composure become flustered, “It’s okay,” You reassured him, “You can laugh. My father was not a solemn man. I like to think he enjoys my humour.”

A hum was all you received, though he did not smile as you had hoped.

You had not fully seen him do so yet, and although there was glimmers of a more playful and relaxed man, you wondered in that moment if perhaps he was simply just a rather stern and serious sailor after all. That his nature was to be stiff, and bold, and unbendable.

And if he was to be that, a small flicker inside of you wished to make him bend. 

Gods, what was wrong with you?

Had you grown so lonesome in your isolation that the first man to wash upon your shore, literally, was whom you would grow some sort of desire for?

Sure, you were no stranger to pleasure, chasing your own peaks with your hands as often as you’d like, of course, if it did not endeavour to endanger the care of the lighthouse. And now, that a man was sat before you, kept in the confines of your home by storm and ailment, you wished to taste what it truly meant to be pleased. 

It had of course crossed your mind once or twice on your rare travels to shore. Speaking to the locals in shops or on the street, friends of William, or any decent man who cast you a glance. You had thought about it seriously, allowing some sort of dalliance to form, to warm a mans bed and then leave on the morrow to go back to your life of solitude. 

In fact, it had almost happened. 

A sailor named Dalton Greyjoy had caught your eye on the occasions he would be on shore at the same time as when you were. He was sailor from a well known, and well to do family. He came and went as he pleased, and it was no secret that he liked his women. Dalton's hair came below his ear, curling slightly atop his head, the colour as black as night and with his eyes to match his hair; a piercing, deep black which captured and lured anyone who caught his gaze.

And you had caught his, on more than one occasion, and each time, he had tried to woo you. Tried to offer a trip on his sturdy ship which carried more than one hundred men. Or a tour of his home which lay on bountiful lands on shore.

He had even offered a drink in the local tavern, and a meal, with a desire to speak to the ‘beautiful woman who keeps my ship from ruin’. 

And you had thought on it, had almost given in, and when you had rejected him the last time, you had meant to offer him refuge on your island, should he ever so need it. If he was ever so inclined to have a tour of your own homestead, of your lighthouse which kept him from ruin. 

But when you had moved to tell him thus, he was gone, back to the seas for the Gods only know how long, perhaps months, before he returned to shore. And that had been two months ago, and you had almost kicked yourself at the missed opportunity of having a man warm your bed, and then leave. 

The convenience was lost.

You were under no impression that it would be anything more than a release for the two of you, and in your eyes, it was perhaps, a perfect arrangement. Yet, you had strung him for too long, and the seas had called him once more. 

You had thought to wait to look for his ships arrival as it passed from you to shore, and lowered its anchor within eyesight. You had thought that perhaps at the sight of it, you would send your pigeon to her, the large ship, or to shore to send word of your request of his presence. But then, you thought, perhaps you would make a quick stop to the markets, weather permitting, and keep your eyes widened for the dark black hair which you sought. 

But now, as the man you had come to know as Aemond, grew stronger with each day, the desire to meet your desires with Dalton faded, and were now replaced for the desire of a man who was the stark opposite.

No black hair, only silver. No black eyes, only lilac.

Would his lips be as soft as they looked?

Would he hold you passionately? Whisper in your ear? Give you pleasure that you had only read of?

This was what you thought of, thighs clenching as you pulled the old wick from the lamp to replace it with a new one, careful to not spill any oil around the lamps enclosure or yourself. You were exhausted as you lit the flame, night crawling towards you rapidly.

There was not much rest that you could get when sleeping on the worn down lounge of your home, mind reeling at the thought of the handsome man not too far from you in the warmth and plush of your bed.

Once you were positive the lamp was fine and well lit, you trudged down the stairs, eyes struggling to stay open as you made your way back to the cottage, the wind blowing your hair roughly as you closed the door behind you.

The fatigue dragged you down, limbs feeling as heavy as stone as you moved to make yourself some tea, feeling all the more exhausted than before, eyes half shut.

Once your tea was made, you sat on the couch and stared at the fire, blowing the steam away and sipping on it to warm your chilled bones. The lighthouse was cold inside, no warmth but the lamp, and despite wearing your warm layers, the cold still nipped you to your core.

There were no thoughts as you moved half asleep around your home, pulling the heavy waxed coat from your shoulders to place on the hook by the door.

Your boots came next, and then your socks, and finally you pulled away at your dress, untying your stays as it slid down your hips to the floor.

You trudged to your room, having extinguished the lamps and candles in the cottage, leaving the fireplace to burn through what was left of the night.

It was dark as you pulled back the sheets, mind in memory and eyes already shut, as you slid into bed in only your slip, pulling the sheets up to your neck as you lay on your side.

Then sleep came just as quickly as your eyes closed.

-

It was hot. 

Too hot. 

There was a warmth that radiated around you as you slowly rose to consciousness.

Then, came the weight. 

A weight of something wrapped around you, behind you, heat seeping into your spine. You blinked sluggishly, confused as to what it was as you shifted, feeling whatever that warmth was shifting with you. Solid.

Arms. 

Two arms.

One under your head, the other draped over your middle, hand splayed across your stomach as your back was pressed into the flush of someones chest. 

Not someone.

Aemond. 

You jerked, suddenly awake and out of the bed, looking down at the man who looked tiredly up at you, corner of his mouth lifting slightly as he fought away a smirk. Heat rose up your neck and into your cheeks in embarrassment. 

You had been in bed.

With him.

Tucked into him.

Oh Gods.

Your mouth opened and shut as your brain misfired, unsure of what to do our say. 

Do you apologise?

Gods, you had been so tired you hadn’t even realised. 

You were suddenly mortified at the thought of what he must now think of you. 

He must-

“-If you want to get into bed with me, all you must do is ask.” Came the low timbre of Aemond, who now smirked freely at you. 

Your heart raced in your chest as you became flustered, a small squeak escaping your lips. 

Aemond’s eye bore into your own as you stood there, bare feet on the cold flagstones below, chest heaving as you were at a loss of words. His eye then roamed lower, taking in your appearance as you felt the heat of his gaze blanket over you.

It was then, that you realised, you were in nothing but your thin shift.

“Gods. Fuck.” You swore, turning quickly to throw on an old dress, foregoing your skirts, stay and stockings.

You kept your back to him as you hastily did up the many buttons, suddenly cursing each and every one of them as your fingers struggled to do them up the more you become flustered, all the while you could still feel his heated gaze upon you from the bed.

You uttered an embarrassed apology, too ashamed to even raise your eyes to look at him, before you fled from the cottage, forgetting your coat, and not even doing up the laces of your boots as you shut the door behind you and raced towards the lighthouse. 

You had never quite climbed the steps as fast as you had in that moment, desperate to get away from his salacious gaze, and your burning embarrassment.

What had you been thinking? Climbing into bed with him like that? He must think you desperate. Depraved. Unkempt.

Gods be good.

The embarrassment made tears prickle at your eyes.

Though the lamp in the lighthouse was fine, and there was no true reason for you to monitor it, the worst of the storm having moved away, you did not return back to your cottage. You stayed in the cold, no coat and shoes half tied, shivering in the stone walls of the lighthouse to avoid the mortification of that morning. And yet, despite trying to avoid him physically, there was no possible way, you had tried, to avoid thinking of him. 

Thinking of his touch, how warm he had been behind you, how his large hand had completely spanned across your middle as he held you to him, how his fingers had twitched and pulled as you wriggled in first wake. How he smelt of the sea, and sweat, the stew you had cooked him, and the smell of your own sheets, but beneath it all, there was his natural scent, something earthy and musky and like sandalwood that surrounded your every waking moment. 

If it wasn’t for his legs and his near death, you would think the man was a Siren.

You thought of how cold he had been when he washed ashore, how pale and almost blue he looked, and now he burnt hot, and although he was still pale, the flush of life coloured his cheeks and lips. His lilac eye devouring you every chance he had.

At first you had thought you were mistaken, that he was simply looking at you, but now you were sure of it. His eye, the seeing one, unclouded by injury and simmering a bright lilac, watched you almost always half-lidded and ablaze with something you now thought could perhaps be lust.

Gods. 

You buried your head into your hands, deeply exhaling before standing up straighter, trying to erase the images and thoughts of him from your mind, but it was hopeless. He was all you could think of, all you could smell, or see behind your eyelids, and you yearned to reach out and touch him. Hold him. Caress him. 

Your thighs instinctually squeezed together and you sighed, feeling a wetness that had settled between them. 

Gods be good, you were in trouble.

You shivered again, rubbing your hands together as you looked out at the sea, mentally cursing yourself for not having more than two chairs on the island, but you had never needed more than that.

Your legs ached from not having sat in the hours that had passed, and you had turned to pacing the small landing back and forth to try and keep yourself warm. 

A soft clunk came from the bottom of the lighthouse. 

You mustn’t have shut the door properly. 

You continued your pacing, back and forth, breathing into your icy palms as you tried to warm them, mind straying to a body of warmth that you knew, if you pressed your palms against him, would warm in an instant. Your hands coming beneath his tunic to splay against his stomach, working their way-

The sound of rustling came from behind.

You spun on your heel in fright, breath caught in your throat to find Aemond behind you. Now standing straight, the man towered over you, looking down his sharp nose at your shivering form. His hair was slightly wet, stuck down to his shoulders and dripping from its ends onto the floor of the lighthouse. The tunic he wore, stuck to his skin where spatters of rain wet the material. 

In his hands, your coat. 

“Gods be good.” You cursed at him, hand immediately shooting out to press against his forehead, having to rise slightly on your toes to reach, “Have you gone mad? You’ll catch cold and grow ill again.”

Snatching your coat from his hands, you threw it up and around his shoulders, pulling it together tightly at the front, watching as his brows furrowed at you.

His hands caught your wrists as you fussed over him, and you immediately could no longer meet his eye. The warmth of his hands seeped into your bones, and a barely contained sigh fell from your lips.

Aemond was so close, so close to you, you could feel his warmth, smell his-

“Go back to the cottage before you become feverish again.” You tried to pull your wrists away from his hands to push him back to the door, but the man did not budge, his grip only tightened. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Came his low response, jaw tensed as he watched you. 

You swallowed, looking anywhere but his eye, “No.” You lied terribly, hoping he couldn’t feel the way your pulse quickened at your wrist, “I have to tend to my duties.“

“-You’re a terrible liar.”

You bristled, heat rising in your cheeks again before you met his eye.

Exhaling shakily, you tried again to get him to release your wrists with no avail.

“Please let go of me, Sir.”

Aemond’s cheek twitched, before finally he let go, and you begrudged his warmth leaving you the second he did. 

As his hands dropped to his sides, your eyes flitted to the exposed skin of his chest, if only for a moment, where his tunic was ripped down the middle. He moved, arms coming up again as he pulled your coat from his shoulders, stepping towards you suddenly. 

You stiffened, feeling his warmth envelop you and the subtle scent of salt and sandalwood engulf you as he wrapped you in your coat, pulling it tightly against you at your front. Your arms were trapped beneath it as he kept his hold on you, the coat pulling tighter as he stepped closer.

“You’re cold.” He whispered, head ducking slightly as he looked at you, long strands of silver cascading over his shoulder. 

Okay. You were sure of it. 

Perhaps he was a Siren. 

And now he was going to drag you to the sea and-

You watched in a confusion, or horror and delight as his head began to dip down towards your face, eye watching you intently as you held your breath.

Oh Gods, was this really happening? Was this man-

“Sīr gevie.” Came a deep purr from the back of his throat, and there it was again, that half lidded gaze. 

You parted your lips instinctually, feeling his nose brush against yours, your eyes fluttering as you looked down to his lips which were parted a hairsbreadth away from you, “I don’t know what that means.” You whispered, feeling his breath fan across your lips warmly. 

“Beautiful.” Came his response, less purring than the last, more of a whisper, more delicate, like the silk that spun his hair, ready to break.

His face loomed closer, the tip of his pink tongue coming to wet his lips, and all you could think of was how you wished to close the distance, to press against him, taste him, have him. 

Your lungs ached from the breath you had been holding, and a sudden gust of wind knocked at the windows of the lighthouse. It seemed to have broken the spell, jerking you away from the man in front of you, who blinked longingly at you.

Swallowing thickly, trying to ignore the ache in your core, you uttered, “I need to prepare supper.” Before you dashed away from him and down the stairs, almost tripping over your half laced boots in the process. 

As you wound down the stairs, you felt a pang of guilt leaving him up there.

Would he be fine to get down himself?

What if he grew ill? It was cold, and he had no coat, and you had just-No. If he had made his way up those stairs, then he could surely make his way down them.

You wasted no time preparing dinner, darting about the kitchen noisily as you began to prepare your meal, cutting the vegetables on the chopping board, and moving for some more dried meats to add with it, soaking it in some bone powdered broth you had made days earlier.

When the door of the cottage opened, and then clicked shut, you ignored the mans arrival, keeping your back to him, pretending that you were all too busy preparing the dinner to spare him a second glance, and not only that, you were far too engrossed of thinking what was coming next, and not at all how his lips might have felt on yours. 

You heard him settle at the table by the fire, and without looking, cast your voice behind you, “I still have my fathers belongings,” You told him, voice shy, “Seemed a waste to be rid of them when he passed. You may fit them. I’ll let you look through the trunk after supper so that you may have some cleaner, warmer clothes.”

A hum, and then, “Thank you. You are a gracious host.”

You blushed at his compliment, thankful that your back was turned to him so that he would not see you shy once more. Once your meal was cooked, you brought it over to the table for the two of you, including a plate of some of your scones, as well as the jam from Celia to go with them after.

It was a mostly silent affair, a tension strung between the two of you, pulled taught as the minutes went by. That was until-

“You are not married.”

It wasn’t a question, more of a statement of fact. 

You blinked, taking your eyes away from your meal as you looked up at him.

He was already watching you.

But there was nothing malicious about his statement, more so curious as to why.

Aemond continued, “You are a beautiful young woman, a shame that you are not out in society.”

You swallowed thickly, feeling vulnerable at the turn of conversation. 

You knew it was unheard of a woman of your age to be unwed, and not only that, alone in a usual mans position. You knew that the townsfolk at shore talked about it, whispers behind your back at why that was.

There had been a cruel rumour once that you simply enjoyed the coming and goings of the many different sailors who came to and from the port. It didn’t help that Dalton was not quiet about his interest in pursuing you, at least, not as his wife anyway.

“I am content where I am.” You sighed, “I have no desire to be flaunted on a mans arm as merely decoration. I have a responsibility to those on shore and on sea, and I doubt any man in town would know more about the mechanisms of working such a lamp than I do. They would be more of a burden than a blessing.”

Aemond blinked before lifting another steaming spoonful of food to his lips, “And do you not grow lonely on this little island?”

Did you?

You didn’t think you did.

At least, not until he arrived on your shore.

“Not at all.” And unconvincing lie, or perhaps not a full one, “William comes to bring my reprieve, and I go to and from shore as I wish for the whims of societal company.”

The man swallowed his mouthful of food, head cocked as he looked at you, “William?”

“An old friend of my fathers.” You explained, watching as he relaxed at the explanation, “Brings food and goods to me when I cannot get them my own, which is more often than not. His wife and daughters join him here on occasion.”

Aemond hummed, “It is a shame you have no feelings of loneliness.”

“A shame?”

The corner of his lip twitched, “I thought you might have enjoyed my company.” Before you could respond, he spoke again, “Though, perhaps it is not a shame after all. There is no husband that I need worry about.”

Heat rose into your cheeks fast, and a flush of hurt crept up your throat.

Of course he would make a comment about you being unwed. 

He was just like the others in town. 

“You mock me.” You grit angrily, hands twitching on the table. 

You watched as a flash of regret creeped over his face.

“I don’t.” His tongue darted out to lick at his lips again, the hungry look in his eye not at all for the food on his plate, “I would worry that my attempt to court you would be burdened by a disgruntled husband.”

Court you. 

Court. 

Your stomach turned tightly, and you found yourself pushing your chair behind you quickly as you stood, grabbing your empty plate as you moved to take it to the kitchen, unsure of what to say, mouth dry and mind reeling. 

As soon as your back turned, you heard a deep chuckle behind you, making your cheeks flush with heat once more. You did not even bother to clean your plate, instead dumping it into the dry sink before you snatched your coat off of the coat hook and moved to open the door.

“You cannot avoid me forever.” Came his low purr, and would if you tried.

The door thumped behind you as you swept yourself outside.

-

By the time you finally returned to the cottage, the night had flown away from you, having spent the majority of it trying to cool the heat in your body that he had stoked, resting your cheeks against the cool class of the lighthouse, anything to soothe the molten blood that coursed through you.

The storm had mostly passed, and your home was quiet as you snuck back inside, darkness filling the majority of the space bar the fireplace as you pulled your coat from your shoulders, back facing the room.

When you turned to walk further inside a small gasp pulled into your lungs. 

“You’re awake.” You blinked at Aemond owlishly, watching as he leant back on the small worn couch, his long limbs stretched out in front of him by the fire, with one arm resting against the back.

“I am.” You shifted on your feet, unsure of what to do or say. 

Damn your anxious mind, reeling in circles at the thought of him, and his desires and if he desired you as much as you desired him. And what if-

You shook the thought away, “Well, you must be tired. You need to rest so that you may go home. The storm is passing, and I’d wager that you could return to shore now.” You wrung your hands together. 

You didn’t want him to go, but you knew it was logical.

He would have to leave. He would have to go home. To his family. To his friends. To his land. And then, you would be left alone with the spiralling 'what if's' of his stay.

“You speak of fatigue as if you sleep more than I, and do less.” Came his pointed remark, “I am well aware of my need to recover, and my abilities.”

Speechless. 

That was what you were.

The fire crackled loudly between you as you watched him shift, moving to lay himself down onto the couch which was comically too small for him. His long legs stretched over the arm, feet dangling almost to the floor whilst his head was tucked at an awful angle on the opposite arm. 

He looked like a doll that had been carelessly tossed onto the couch by a child.

“You need rest.” He mused, eye roaming over your body shamelessly, “I shall sleep where I am.”

Your brows furrowed, “You can’t suggest that you wish to sleep there.” Your hand pointed to where he was uncomfortably lain, “You do not fit. You shall see no rest and I will have to nurse you to health once more.”

“All the more reason for me to stay here.” His eye slid shut, seeming to make a point of sleeping on your lumpy and aged lounge.

You guffawed at him and his brazen flirting, mouth hanging open as your hands moved to your hips, “Go back to bed.”

His brow lifted, but his eye stayed shut, “A command or request?”

You blinked, “A request, if you know what’s good for you.”

“Will you be joining me?” Came his purr, eye cracked open at you, the bright lilac having turned as stormy as the sea once had been.

“No.”

Another hum, something you had grown used to by now, his eye sliding shut, “Then I shall stay put.”

You stormed towards him, looking down at him, trying to not notice how soft his hair looked, or how the pale skin of his chest looked like a cozy place to-

“Really, Sir.” You sighed, exacerbated, “I must implore you to sleep in the bed tonight. You will only hurt your neck and back. I am far smaller than you, and-“

“-Sīr byka.”

The language was smooth, the r curling in the front of his teeth, all creamy, and soft like syrup and warm. It sent heat straight into your core. 

“What does that mean?”

His eye opened again as he sat up, “Would you like to know?”

Gods, he was infuriating. 

“Yes.” You grit out, “Or else I wouldn’t have asked.”

“I said you were little.”

Embarrassment curled in your chest, but not only that, something else that sent heat striking through you. 

You tried to blink it away, “An obvious observation. And the bed would fit you perfectly well, if only-“

“-Nyke kessa mazverdagon ziry-“

“-Would you stop that?” You snipped, chest heaving as you blushed, watching as the tall man pulled his legs down and sat up, looking at you predatorily. 

You were in trouble.

Every hair on your body stood up as he watched you beneath his lashes.

“Stop what?”

You wet your lips, “T-that.”

“What, byka ōños?”

“That!” You pointed, running a hand through your hair, “You- You make a mockery of me.”

His head tilted, “I do no such thing.”

“You do.” You countered, looking anywhere but him, “You speak in tongues that I do not understand. For all I know, you could be throwing insult at my person. I know that I am not as educated as you-”

“-Do you want to know what it means? You only need ask.”

“What does it mean?” You breathed, watching as he stood from the couch, sucking all the air from the room as his head slowly came up to your height, then finally looming over you down his nose. 

“What does ‘what’ mean?”

“Fine." You huffed, "You shall stay on the couch, and I shall send word tomorrow-“

“-Little light.”

You lashes fluttered against your cheeks as you felt him step closer to you, your chest heaving as one of his hands reached out to caress a lock of your hair, tucking it behind your ear. You shivered as his fingertips grazed a path down your neck, his eye intent on you. 

“W-what?”

“Byka ōños,” Aemond purred, “It means ‘little light’.” He took a step closer to you, his chest brushing against yours, warmth immediately seeping into your dress as you craned your head to look up at him, "Byka perzys.”

“And what does that mean?” Your voice was quiet, unsure, the air around you crackling with the tension that had been building for days.

“Little flame.” He translated, large palm moving behind your neck as he gripped the back of it softly, fingers tangling in your hair. Your breath hitched as he moved forward, his eye on your lips, yours on his.

“Byka jelevre.”

“What does t-“

Aemond’s lips crashed into yours hungrily, silencing your question. You squeaked, eyes widening before they slowly slid shut, hands coming to the front of his tunic as you fisted them tightly, rising on your tip toes to meet him. His kiss melted you, a fire being stoked in your gut steadily as the fingers in your hair tightened.

Then as sudden as it came, it stopped. 

You were both panting, looking at one another as his tongue wet his lips.

“Fuck.” He growled, before crashing into you again, teeth nibbling at your bottom lip as you sighed into his embrace.

His other hand wrapped around your waist pulling you tightly against him as his tongue licked at your bottom lip. It was unfamiliar, uncertain, and your lips parted in a small gasp, immediately feeling his tongue lick tentatively at your mouth.

You were still, frozen as you thought of what to do as the hand on your waist moved to pull at your skirts hastily, dragging them up your legs.

And then, it was as though the fog was cleared, and your mind re-emerged. You pulled back with a gasp, hand gripping the wrist that was pulling at your skirts, your eyes searching his face with uncertainty. 

And then, slowly, it dawned on him, realisation washing over his features. 

“You’re untouched?” Came his quiet breath.

You swallowed, shutting your eyes to avoid his prying gaze, too afraid of his next reaction as you answered him. 

“Yes.”

The warmth of his body left yours, and you almost subconsciously followed it, eyes reopening. 

He looked at you with a new expression you could not quite understand. 

Your chest ached to be held again, to feel his want and his hands pressed against your body. To feel his chest against yours, his lips on your own, his tongue teasing yours as you sighed into it. You wished to feel the calluses of his hands, and smell the salt and sandalwood that lingered around him.

You felt stupid for having told him, for having stopped him. You wished you hadn’t. You wished you had just let him have his way-

“-Apologies, Miss. I did not mean to overstep.”

Any thought that you had vanished, and you found yourself gasping for air like a fish out of water.

“I shall retire for the evening.” He took another step back, his eye not once leaving yours as he shifted his body towards your bedroom, “But if I do take your bed, I would like to earn my keep around your home as I recover.”

If this man did one more thing out of the ordinary, you thought your head may spin off your neck.

“Your keep?” You echoed, feeling the tingle in your lips from his kiss. '

Did he mean-

“-Work around the island. Cleaning, gardening. Anything that you need or want from me. I am yours.”

You felt that his last offer meant more, but you did not have the wherewithal to ask for elaboration, nor did you have the courage. 

Gods, what was it about this man that turned you to syrup?

You nodded slowly, watching as relief washed over his features, “It is much appreciated, though I will be hard pressed to find things for you to do yet.” You shifted on your feet, hands wringing together once more, “I shall send word soon of your survival to shore. My pigeo-“

“-No.” Aemond said hastily, to which he recovered a moment afterwards, “No need until I am hale and healthy again. There is no point for false hopes, I may turn on the morrow.”

You shook your head, a small laugh falling from your lips, “I see no possibilities of you turning to meet the Stranger tomorrow. You-“

“-Please.” Came his voice once more, rough and quiet, and more strained than before, “Let me stay dead for a while longer.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the general tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

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#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fic #aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x y/n #hotd fanfic #lighthouse!Aemond #asumofwords lighthouse #sailor!aemond #LighthouseKeeper!reader #sailor!Aemond x reader #Sailor!Aemond #LighthouseKeeper!Reader #Asumofwords Lighthouse #shipwreck!aemond

[skywerse]

Finch finally got a redesign that suits her more... With that, if you want to know more about my riptide oc, info below! :D

WARNING: there's A LOT of yapping

Finch, originally named Farren Van Aalsburg, stands as a 22-year-old pirate whose legacy is intertwined with the notorious ship, The Arbiter. 

Known for her ruthless and calculated leadership, Finch's mere approach to piracy would send ripples of apprehension through the ranks of sailors and even unsettle the most seasoned navy officers. The very mention of her crew's arrival was often met with foreboding whispers. In taverns, pirates would share knowing smirks over their mugs of beer, while officers would exchange wary glances. They'd caution one another, 

"Retribution's coming."

Farren's lineage traces back to a well-known navy captain, Heimer Van Aalsburg, praised for his adeptness in handling internal conflicts and hailed as one of the foremost strategists in naval warfare. Alongside his family, composed of Farren, her stepsister Hestia, and stepmother Alisei, they resided aboard a wonderful mahogany vessel, embarking on voyages from one port to another.

For Heimer, Farren was the centre of his universe, he couldn't have wished for a better daughter. Their connection strengthened, particularly in the wake of Farren's mother, Julith Ferin's passing when Farren was just four years old.

The bond between Farren and her younger sister was equally profound, they had an unbreakable bond from the very moment they met. However, amidst this familial setting, Alisei nursed a vicious, festering resentment, convinced that Farren overshadowed Hestia in Heimer's eyes. This animosity later culminated in a tragic incident that took place one, stormy night. 

In an unfortunate turn of events, Farren finds herself overboard, her desperate attempt to grasp the ship resulting in a severe injury to her right arm. Eventually, the raging waters below are quick to swallow her.

As her consciousness returns, she kneels before a colossal leviathan. The creature presents a solemn pact: it will guide her to the nearest vessel and mend her injured arm, with the condition that she accepts the burden of becoming the guardian of the seas until her last dying breath. An oath that binds her to a life on the move, forbidding her to settle on solid ground or abandon her duty. With hesitation, she agrees.

One fateful day, Skip, a hardy half-orc fisherman, discovers a young girl ensnared in his ship's nets. Swift to lend a helping hand, he extends not only a refuge but a genuine home for the girl, determined to help navigate her through the uncertain future.

Now residing on a small isle, a mere few days were enough for her to befriend a whole flock of zebra finches, who trailed behind her like loyal companions. Considering the girl didn't remember anything, let alone her name, Skip decided that the name 'Finch' would be more than a suitable choice.

Finch grapples with a zero to no recollection of herself and her family. Her only tangible link is a gilded medallion etched with the initials 'J.H.F’ accompanied by a few fleeting memories of her father.

Finch becomes a stalwart protector, earning recognition as the island's guardian. Fueled by an unyielding commitment, she gathers a crew at the age of 16. Two years later, they embark on their first voyage.

Her four years at sea culminates in a fierce clash with the navy, leaving Finch and her childhood friend, Shelby, as the lone survivors. In the wake of the tragedy, Finch confronts a maelstrom of emotions, grappling with guilt, simmering anger, and the rekindling of a long-suppressed fear of the unforgiving ocean.

"What value does a fierce pirate captain, one who commands the treacherous seas yet harbours such fear, truly possess?" - Niklaus, on their last meeting.

Finch and Niklaus have a history of encounters, each one more significant than the last.

Their first meeting took place when Finch was just 16, in the midst of assembling her crew. Niklaus dangled the promise of information regarding her family, but only if she'd abandon her oath. She refused, even poking fun at him the whole time—a stance she maintained on numerous occasions.

The second encounter, at the age of 22, followed a previously mentioned, deadly battle. Niklaus presented her an offer to turn back time, still on the condition of letting go of her oath. Once again, she refused, stating he's a fool if he thinks she'll ever give it up. After a few humiliating attempts at bribing her, he gives up.

A mere few weeks later, their paths crossed once more. This time, Niklaus proposed a lasting solution to banish her deep-seated fear of the ocean in return for a future favour. He pledged to provide a specific time, place, and a duel to be won, one she'd be obliged to fulfil, that is not linked to her oath. After careful consideration, and a few conditions, Finch shook on the arrangement (and still made fun of him the entire time).

(where are we in the timeline as of that moment? this would be around the time when silly riptide pirates are stuck in the Feywild...)

What's next for Finch? Well, she'd probably take this opportunity to uncover more about her past, of course with Shelby's help. And then maybe she'll bribe a cute moon sorcerer to join her crew...

#digital art #character concept art #dnd oc #oc #original character #oc art #jrwi riptide oc #the yappening is real #skye's ocs #riptide oc

[sinsinsininning]

Can i request a luffy x fem reader who's his childhood best friend and they're both as dumb and hyperactive as each other (she followed and stayed him when he started his pirate journey) and they also like each other but arent together and theyre just two puppies in love

I love dumb idiot x dumb idiot, with a smidgen of oblivious mutual pining. I’m keeping this to pre time skip and kinda vague timeline wise. Keeping this as SFW since you didn’t specify just to be safe.

Hope you like it ✨

—————

You’d grown up attached to his hip, returning with him to Dandan’s house after saving him from drowning. He’d fallen off a bridge he’d made and into the fast river, his elder brothers, Sabo and Ace, rushed to help him. But you’d been faster, watching the trio from the shore and being a great swimmer/fisherman.

His brothers had been so grateful they’d offered you protection and dinner at their home, your own family was broken up by war and violence just like theirs so you accepted. And while Dandan hadn’t been happy about another mouth to feed, she’d thought having a young girl around would help the three wild boys settle down and act better.

It didn’t.

Everyone was dismayed to learn you were just as crazy as Luffy and equally stupid. Though you both had your brilliant moments and emotional intelligence, time and time again proved that though wisdom was chasing you, you were faster.

That’s how it’s been as kids, your adventures so intertwined Luffy couldn’t remember a time you weren’t by his side. Even Garp mistakenly called you his grandkid half the time and never held back his training or punishment on you either.

As you got older, your ambition remained unchange. You wanted to see Luffy become King of the Pirates, which is why you were the first to join his crew. Over time as your crew gained more members, you were a steady pillar of loyalty.

Loyal to your crew, your captain, and your captain’s stupid ass.

Some examples of your daily hourly conversations:

“If you could only eat one food for forever what woul-“

“Meat.” Luffy cut you off.

“Too broad be more specific.” You smack his chest lightly, it’s late at night and you’re both stargazing on the main deck.

“Cooked meat.” Luffy said after thinking a moment. “You?”

“Hmmm Ice cream. Or potatoes.”

“Mmmm now I’m hungry. Lets ask Sanji for a snack.” Puffy starts to stand but you yank him back down.

“Can’t remember, he’s still mad at us for putting a regular carrot in the bin with the baby carrots so they’d have adult supervision.” You laugh together as he lays still, the only time he can be still is if it’s with you.

Or.

“Nothing to see here,” You whistle lowly, trying to keep Nami’s attention on you as you whiddle. “Love being normal. Peak ordinary! That’s me, heh no problems here. No one’s ever been this average.”

“Are you sick or so- GODDAMN IT LUFFY!” She cuts herself off to try and whack your captain on the head, but it was too late, he’d already grabbed her slice of cake and ran off. The red head throws her book at you as you follow after him.

He saved you a forkful, the rest was gone the second he started running, but for you. For you he saved a bit.

Or.

“We didn’t come here to make friends.” Zoro says as he holds his blade to an enemy captain after a short skirmish.

“We came here to make Best Friends.” You interjected.

“Yeah!” Luffy gave you a thumbs up.

“Shut up you idiots or I’ll slice you!” Poor Zoro’s blood pressure was insane with the two of you.

Or.

“I’m not surprised you’ve gotten a bounty.” Garp sighs, tired eyes locked on Luffy. “But I expected better from you!” He rounds on you, shoving his finger in your face accusingly.

“Shishishi! Well that’s your own fault, nothing to do with me.” You and Luffy laugh as Garp chases after you. The old man doesn’t miss the way, Luffy looks back to ensure you’re still stride for stride with him or the way he takes the heated blows aimed for you.

But.

Overtime, your feelings are softer and softer for him, but you have no clue what this means. You notice the little things he does for you, the things he’s always done for you only. You watch him listen intently to Sanji’s flirting advice -that no one really asked for- and try not to feel weird about it. It’s only when Nami finally just announces that you’re both in love that you finally understand. A little.

“Duh.” Luffy says when she tells the crew.

“Yeah of course we love each other.” You agree wholeheartedly, but a small part of you wonders if that’s what she meant. Your suspicions are confirmed when she groans exhaustedly.

“No, you guys are IN love with each other.” Ussop says, trying to help her out.

“Huh.” Luffy says contemplating it, you don’t say anything for once. You don’t feel embarrassed, you never do really, but you do feel curious and warm. “Like married people?”

“Jumping the gun a little there, but yeah.” Nami says, feeling a little accomplished now.

“I don’t know about that.” You answer honestly, cocking your head as you literally roll the idea around in your mind. Luffy isn’t glaring at you, he couldn’t glare, but he’s certainly making a face.

“It makes sense.” Luffy announces, staring hard at you. “I mean I don’t wanna marry Hancock.”

“But you know that doesn’t mean you wanna marry each other.” Ussop interjects.

“Yeah it does, she just needs to ask.” Luffy says like it’s obvious, which frustrates his crew, except you and Robin of course. You aren’t even shocked by his answer, it did make sense, you didn’t want to date Sanji despite him asking multiple times. But if Luffy asked you wouldn’t say no.

“Luffy you know it’s traditional for the man to ask the woman, right?” Robin asks gently, though she knows the answer.

“Huh? Then why is Hancock always asking me?” Luffy looks to you for an answer, you shrug just as confused as him.

“No clue, i don’t think I’ve ever met a married person now that I think about it.”

“Huh me either, I’ve never noticed. Shishishi.” You and him laugh again, but this time his hand entwines with yours.

“God you’re impossible.” Nami shouts, stomping off.

“Those two are made for each other.” Ussop rolls his eyes as you and Luffy start talking about wether it would be better to be a bird or a fish.

“Yes, isn’t it lovely.” Robin sighs as she watches you.

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #luffy x reader

[areyoudoingthis]

"So," Ed says while the crew gets the ship ready for Lucius and Pete's matelotage ceremony, shyly swaying his shoulder as he leans towards Stede in what is rapidly becoming Stede's favorite bit of Ed body language. "Zheng's offer."

And Stede hears the question he isn't asking. Hears the plea this time, too. This time he isn't drunk and coming off the high of being worshipped for killing a man to protect his loved ones. The renewed threat on their lives and watching Ed sob brokenly while Izzy died in his arms have sobered him up fast, instilled a new understanding of the way Ed views piracy in him and rearranged his priorities one more time. He thought he had this right when he left Barbados. No matter, he'll keep learning as he goes, keep listening and trying his best to do right by himself and by Ed.

"You wanted to become a fisherman." Ed winces. Stede doesn't hold a drop of resentment towards him, understands how easy it is to panic when faced with something as immense as what they share while the burdens of their pasts still plague them.

"I think I wasn't as well suited to fishing as a I thought," Ed says, ruefully.

"Nonsense. You're great at fishing." He beams at him, knows that Ed is capable of excelling at anything he sets his mind to. But it doesn't have to be fishing, it can be anything they choose. There's a whole world of possibilities open before them now. "What if we explored a different avenue?" he suggests.

Ed's eyes open wide, excited. Stede knows he's on the right track, the way his heart settles in his chest at the look in Ed's eyes tells him he can't go wrong if he follows this instinct for the rest of his days.

"Yeah? Like what?" He sounds impatient to get started.

"I remember you expressing an interest in becoming a restauranter once?"

"Eh, the food industry might be a tad too much work. We'd have to catch the food first, then cook it and serve all the customers..." he looks bashful, like there's something on the tip of his tongue that he's hesitant to speak out loud. "What if-?"

"Yes?" Stede asks, quiet and a little breathless with anticipation. His blood is thrumming, he wants to take this leap with Ed with every fiber of his being, is leagues more eager for this than he was when he first commissioned a ship and set off to sea.

"What about an inn?"

The memory flashes through his mind of Ed gifting a couple of kids on the Republic a bag of gold and a pair of knives, and claiming they weren't pirates but inn owners afterwards. How long has he been thinking about this? How long has this been a dream of his?

"Sounds fun." He smiles, radiant. He's thrilled to join Ed on their next adventure, inn ownership or fishing or bar and grill management. He would go anywhere with him.

"Yeah?" Ed sounds exhilarated too.

"Yes."

And there isn't an ounce of hesitancy in his voice this time around. He knows himself at last, knows the bottomless capacity for loving Ed his heart possesses, doesn't intend to ever let him go again.

Ed leans forward as if he intends to kiss him and Stede's heart starts beating faster, always greedy for Ed. But Ed stops, pauses halfway to Stede and looks doubtful all of a sudden.

"What about this?"

"This?"

"The ship. The crew. Piracy." Stede thinks he means the last one most of all. And god, what a fool he was to almost lose this to a fantasy. What he set out for a lifetime ago wasn't piracy, it was a dream of freedom and a place where he could be himself. He's never more himself than when he's standing next to Ed, looking the future in the eye together. This is his home, where his body and soul belong forever. The ship will continue to house their family and carry them safely across the sea, and they'll come back to visit as much as they want to. He can't wait to see what they get up to, either.

"You're the only adventure I need, Ed."

And Ed melts into his arms and kisses him sweetly.

#blackbonnet #gentlebeard #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd fic #ofmd spoilers #here have this drabble as a treat because I'm drowing in feelings #my fic

[wistfulcynic]

the inn is a metaphor

They are terrible at running an inn. 

In the beginning. 

They don’t know the first goddamn thing about the hospitality industry. Or carpentry, plumbing, invoicing, logistics. Anything, really. They know nothing. 

They learn. 

There’s a lot of trial, even more error. But by the first time the Revenge returns for a visit they have something. A roof that doesn’t leak. Un-rotted floorboards. Nooks and crannies free from feral beasts of any kind. Zero spiders. Twin armchairs in front of the fire and a bed just big enough for the two of them. It’s a start. 

The Revenge comes bearing gifts. Wee John has knitted them some afghans and Frenchie sewed an enormous quilt, which takes pride of place on the bed. They’ve towed in another ship as well, a wreck whose timber they all pitch in to rebuild into an extension and some outbuildings. Roach helps them plant a kitchen garden and a medicinal one. 

Jackie gives them business advice and contacts for her old suppliers. Lucius has a guestbook for them, with marginalia he drew himself. Some of it at least is appropriate for guests to see. The rest…

“Are you planning to have guests who’ll faint at the sight of a cock?” Lucius inquires innocently. “Because I’ll be honest with you, that seems unlikely.” 

The idea of guests of any kind is still a long way off, but they’re getting there. They can envision it now, and not just as a wild fantasy they spin each other at night as they lie entwined with sweat cooling on their skin. They have actual plans, concrete ones, and a decent understanding of how to realise them. 

They get to work. 

Jackie’s contacts prove invaluable. Soon they have a liquor supplier, deals with local butchers, bakers, candlestick-makers, and even a reliable fisherman to give them first dibs on his haul. 

(It’s not Pop-Pop.) 

A few survivors of Zheng’s old crew hire on as housekeeping and kitchen staff. The soup is phenomenal. Ed learns how to make it and how to cook a fish without burning it. They have fresh-smelling towels, expertly folded. They have guest rooms, and soon they have guests. 

It’s an adjustment, having new people in their space. Some of the guests are gawkers, eager for a piece of Blackbeard and the Gentleman Pirate. They reserve the right to refuse service to anyone, namely those particular assholes. But other guests are much more pleasant. Locals looking for a bit of a mini-break, people from nearby islands wanting a getaway, even the occasional European who doesn’t know who they are. 

The guests are mostly happy with their stay. There’s excellent soup and decent fish, fresh linens and great views. The walls could be a bit thicker, perhaps, for everyone’s comfort, but the hosts are always most apologetic in the morning and offer copious marmalade in exchange for good reviews. 

The Revenge returns frequently, each time with some new trinkets and finery for their former co-captains. In exchange, they host bonfires on the beach with music and dancing and wine, until they all fall asleep together in a pile, so like the old days on the ship that Stede watches them in the soft light of the embers with tears in his eyes. 

“All right, love?” Ed asks him. He slips an arm around Stede’s waist. Stede tugs him in until Ed’s head is nestled against his shoulder. He strokes Ed’s hair. Ed sighs and snuggles closer. 

“I’m all right,” Stede says. “A bit nostalgic is all.” 

“You miss it.” 

“I miss the crew. I wish they could visit more often. I suppose I miss the sea, though of course it’s right there in front of us. But I’m happy, Ed. I have no regrets.” 

“Really?” The whisper of doubt in Ed’s voice has Stede pulling back to look down at his dear face. 

“Yes really! Do you doubt it?” 

“Kind of.” Ed shrugs. “It’s easier for me, I think. I was ready to be done with it, Stede. Desperate to do anything else but be Blackbeard. But you—you had just got started. You could be out there now with the crew, pirating away. You could be famous. You could—” 

“Ed Teach, you listen to me.” Stede’s got his Captain Voice on now and the sound of it has Ed’s stomach turning cartwheels, his dick leaping to attention. “I don’t care about any of that. I only wanted to be a pirate for the freedom. To escape my old life. But I have a life now that I would never want to escape. Do you know why?” 

Ed shakes his head. 

“Because I chose it. I chose you. I love you and I would be happy anywhere you were.” He cups Ed’s cheek in his palm and kisses his forehead, his nose, his lips. Ed moans and presses closer but Stede pulls back, just far enough to whisper, “You make Stede happy.” 

They spend that night alone in the inn, no guests, far enough from the beach that when they serve breakfast to the crew the next morning not a single smirk or smart remark is sent their way. 

They wave goodbye to their friends that evening and stand together on their porch to watch the ship sail off into the sunset. Stede turns to Ed with a smile. “New guests checking in tomorrow,” he says. “We should probably fix the creak in the door hinge of Room 1.” 

“I’ll do it,” says Ed, “if you polish the candlesticks. Fuckin’ polish makes my nose itch.” 

“Deal,” says Stede. He turns to head inside. “What’ll we have for dinner?” 

“Got a nice turbot we could roast.” 

“Ooh, fab.” 

The inn’s front door closes behind them. 

It’s still a bit rickety, their inn. It’s old, it creaks, it springs leaks from time to time. It’s hard work, keeping it going. But they are devoted to the task. Whatever it takes, they will see their inn thrive. 

It’s what makes them happy. 

#blackbonnet #blackbonnet fanfic #gentlebeard #gentlebeard fanfic #ofmd #ofmd fanfic #our flag means death #post season two #profdanglais

[queerfandomtrifecta]

I’m still just baffled by the justification that Izzy had to die so that Ed could move on from Blackbeard. I’m not even talking about wanting Izzy to live or the fact that his death didn’t work narratively how they did it (which was was a mess too), but like, symbolically, “Blackbeard” dies multiple times before that.

When the crew killed Ed at the end of e2

When Ed’s subconscious manifestation of Hornigold threw him off the cliff in e3

When he’s stripped down to the blank canvas of sackcloth in e5

When he throws away his leathers in e7

When he says I don’t wanna be a pirate I’m a fisherman now and goes to do that in e7/8

Like wtf. I don’t get it. They did it sooooo many times already.

#ofmd spoilers #ofmd #ofmd season 2 #izzy hands #ofmd season 2 spoilers #ofmd critical #ofmd critique

[sarucane]

Why was finding Stede's letter so important for Ed?

Real talk, I adore the season 2 finale and to me the rush is worth it to have a safe ending place. But this episode is so overpacked, and Ed goes through such an incredible character arc and I love it, so here goes my rant on why he burst into tears and screamed at the forest when he read Stede's letter.

Ed is all goddamn over the place in the first part of this episode, tossed about by his insecurity and baffled by what is safe and what is unsafe. He has a voiceover about how amazing being a fisherman is, then ends up regressing into childhood trauma when another father figure freaks out over dinner. Ed doesn't even choose to leave the fisherman fantasy: the fantasy gets shattered and he gets fired in a high-speed parallel of Stede trying to go home (return to a safe, simple life) and finding he doesn't belong there in S1E10. At least Ed does manage to not drown in self-hatred on the way out.

And then Ed returns to the pirate safe space, only to find that it's been invaded and taken over. And that his selfishness, the low self-esteem that distorted his view of reality and his relationship, may have had real consequences for someone he loves (another parallel with Stede, this time early season 2). Ed may have been off pretending to be a "dirty old fisherman" while Stede died.

What was safe is now unsafe. All Ed has left is himself--so he really looks at himself.

At the fact that the kraken is always there, no matter what clothes he wears or how deeply he tries to bury it. He can fight that and run from it, and end up losing everything. Or he can embrace it, and figure out what comes next. Be what he was made by his past, however dark that past was.

But Ed's past wasn't all darkness. Ed walks onto the beach and gets a letter from the past, and suddenly there is something safe again in his world. Something worth killing for.

Ed first started falling for Stede through the stories Stede built around himself, stories formed by boastful encounters with Izzy, muttered hallucinations, and trinkets decking his ship. Back then, Ed didn't believe he himself was a good person, didn't believe he could have friends. But Stede told him stories about friendship and treasure maps, and Ed took these to heart and told stories to match, and Ed found truth through the fiction.

Then Stede left, and those stories fell away for Ed. Ed embraced the story of the kraken, of Blackbeard. Instead of a story about love or survival, he wrote a story about an impossible bird, a raiding record, and a treacherous crew--and mourned a story about lost love.

But Stede kept writing stories. He poured himself into his letters, poured his heart into sustaining his connection to Ed in spite of all the obstacles.

Ed didn't believe in this story after Stede came back, even though he wanted to. He kept emotional distance from Stede, avoided risks, and bailed after two days. Because Ed didn't trust that their bond was solid, that their story was something that could survive Ed's darkness, insecurities, and damage. Didn't trust that what Stede said this time, he had truly thought about, and meant with all his heart.

Stede didn't get how insecure Ed was in all this, because Stede was just so sure of Ed, and of their love. Stede believed in his story with his whole soul, and Stede's stories have a way of creating reality--after all, the whole crew of the Revenge became "real boys." But he couldn't figure out how to communicate this to Ed, to let Ed believe it too.

And then, at a moment where his identity is fractured and re-forming, Ed finds this letter. And just like that, there's a solid ground of story beneath his feet.

Because there was, in fact, solid ground beneath his feet all along.

Ed's and Stede's relationship, like all relationships, is hard. But they formed a real bond of love in season 1, and like Mary Bonnet said, being in love is easy. Ed can trust it--like he did before, but for real this time.

Ed's figuring this out ruddy late. He and Stede didn't communicate these things to each other when they had the chance, and now the chance may have slipped away. So now, Ed yells his feelings at the world and runs off to try to find his person.

When Ed finds Stede again, he doesn't hold back anything. He doesn't hesitate to kill, and he doesn't hesitate to drop his sword when he reaches Stede. They're finally face to face, in every way. Finally balanced, and seeing each other clearly, and able to communicate.

And, for the first time since he and Stede reached each other this season--for the first time since his vision in the Gravy Basket really--Ed is utterly vulnerable.

And entirely safe.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd s2 #ofmd spoilers #ofmd meta #ed teach #stede bonnet #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #arrrggggghhh every moment needed time to land it's like they were counting seconds in this ep #there's just too damn much it's as much as stede went through last year but 7 minutes less screentime #goddamn gorgeous tho #hey if someone sees this and can direct me to gifs that hit the still images i'll be eternally grateful gif searching makes me nuts #i gave up after half an hour on gif searches sorrry

[brigdh]

Okay. My thoughts on the Our Flag Means Death finale. Obviously I'm not very happy with the ending, though I'm also not as upset as some people are. I would say I'm discontent. Unsatisfied. Too aware of how it could have been improved, and a bit bitter that we didn't get a better version, but I also don't hate what we did get.

I know a lot of meta has attributed the problems to a shorter season, and absolutely I would have loved to get 10 episodes instead. I would have loved 22 episodes! Why don't we do that anymore? But I don't think the 8 episode length was the ultimate problem. A) The showrunner and writers knew they had only 8 episodes, so they needed to choose a story that fit into that length, but even more importantly, B) my problem is not that they had too much story for too little time, but actually that they had plenty of time and chose to fill it with too little story.

As I've sat with it over the last few days and thought more about the season's arc, it feels to me like we got eight episodes of filler. Filler episodes can be great! Filler episodes can have some of the funniest lines, the greatest scenes, the most intriguing ideas. But filler episodes do not progress character arcs or major themes, and that's exactly the problem this season had.

The only characters who got arcs this season are Izzy, and to a lesser and more rushed extent, Lucius. Which sure is a choice.

Ed and Stede and their relationship did not meaningfully change from S1. (Okay, yes, they had sex, they said I Love You – but these are external changes, not internal. They don't represent character growth. Stede realized he loved Ed and was telling everyone back in 1x10. Ed clearly would have slept with him in S1 if they'd had a little more time.) Ed and Stede in 2x08 are not different from who they are in 2x01. If Ed had asked Stede to be innkeepers in 2x01, does anyone think Stede wouldn't have immediately agreed? One of the big moments in 2x08 is Ed reading a letter that Stede wrote in 2x01! Stede's exact words from the very beginning of the season! What better way to underline that none of the subsequent seven episodes had important growth or changes?

Another one of 2x08's big shippy moments is Ed and Stede running to each other across a beach – deliberately paralleling the dream Stede had in 2x01. What are we supposed to take from this parallel? My original thought was that we're supposed to see how different the real version is from the dream, but there's honestly not many differences. Neither one has a beard, now? The dream mocked how Stede knew they needed to have a conversation about their relationship that he wanted to avoid, but they don't have a conversation in the "real" version either. They exchange about two sentences (which includes Ed's I Love You, yes, which is a big deal but still isn't a conversation) and then they charge right back into the fight, without discussing anything like Ed abruptly dumping Stede to go be a fisherman, Stede killing Ned Low when Ed asked him not to, their differences of opinion on being pirates, if having sex was a mistake or if that's only a thing Ed said because he was panicking, etc etc. They have just as many issues to address as they did in the dream, but just like the dream they act like everything is magically okay without talking about it!

So I think we're meant to take the beach-run parallels as "here's what Stede's been wanting, and after waiting for so long he finally gets it". Which is fine, a very sweet take-away for a finale. But it underlines what I'm saying is the problem of the season: Stede has just been waiting for eight episodes for his dream to come true. Not changing. Not growing. Not doing anything to bring the dream about, other than trying to get himself and Ed into the same physical location. Just... waiting.

This is an extra surprising development, because the show was really good at giving Ed and Stede character arcs in S1! Ed and Stede in 1x10 are significantly different than they were in their first introductions. Also, just to preempt some criticism, by 'progressing' I do not mean 'wrap up literally every loose end and make a firm final ending' – S1's finale is an excellent example of both moving the characters forward and leaving a ton of room for future stories. I wasn't expecting for 2x08 to show us a Stede and Ed who were perfectly on the same page and would never again have a problem. I was expecting them to be somewhat different than they were in 2x01, and I just don't see that.

Instead of arcs, we got little pieces of single-episode growth here and there that never added up to an overall whole. The season brought up a ton of potential arcs for Ed – violence, piracy, guilt, suicide, daddy issues, self-loathing, apologies, redemption, his tendency to idealize escaping into a different life – but didn't do anything with any of these options. Stede had nothing resembling a season arc at all.

Stede works to improve as a captain! Stede kills someone and has regrets! Stede confronts Ed's dark side! <- All potential arcs, but none of which lasted for more than an episode or had consequences. We don't even know what the ending means for Stede: does he want to be an innkeeper because he failed as a pirate in 2x07? Because piracy was always just a displaced search for love, and now that he has love, he doesn't need piracy? What does the crew of the Revenge leaving mean to him? Stede's understanding of their new arrangement literally happens off-screen and we're left to fumble at guesses for its significance to him as an individual.

Ed and Stede's last big conversation in the season is their break-up fight in 2x07, which is a shocking way to send off your main couple in a rom-com. Yes, there's the I Love You on the beach (again: two sentences) and the brief 'let's try to be innkeepers' conversation at the very end, but that's it for them in 2x08, except for their inclusion in some brief large group conversations about their fighting skills and the plan for escaping the British. How can you end your rom-com with the main couple exchanging only a paragraph's worth of dialogue in the finale? None of the stuff was brought up in the fishing fight in 2x07 is ever addressed at all!

Again, I don't think this is solely a matter of time crunch. Instead of using the eight episodes to progress the two main characters, we got a bunch of filler episodes that used the time in amusing side tangents instead of forward progress. I don't think that's the inevitable result of having to work with eight episodes.

Look, I can come up with a better Ed/Stede relationship arc without needing more episodes, and despite only thinking about this for a couple days and not having an entire writing room to work with:

(Note: this only addresses the Ed/Stede relationship. It doesn't fix Stede completely lacking an independent character arc and Ed having about ten thousand of them, none of which went anywhere.)

In 2x05 to 2x07, I would make Ed's motivations in their relationship very clearly that he's pushing Stede away so he doesn't get hurt again. Basically play up Ed's comment about "I was all in" in 2x04, and make him determined not to get 'all in' this time around. This aligns the "let's take it slow" conversation in 2x05, the "sex was a mistake" in 2x06, and Ed running away to be a fisherman in 2x07 into a single arc. He wants Stede, but he's afraid of what that wanting will do to him. He's trying to find a way to have a relationship without making himself vulnerable. He keeps pushing off commitment and openness.

Then, in 2x08, I'd make it more explicit that Ed thinks/fears Stede is dead when he sees the pirate ships burning. I think it's subtext in the episode as-is, but give him a line or two to make it really clear. Ed and Stede still see each other on the beach, have their dramatic run to each other, and Ed says, "I love you". Now this moment is Ed acknowledging his love, exactly what he's been avoiding for the last three episodes.

Near the end of the episode, Ed and Stede have a conversation where Ed says something like, "I didn't want to get hurt again, I was afraid of the risk of falling in love and you leaving again, but thinking you were dead made me realize that never loving you would be worse" (but better written, ha, this is a tumblr post that's already too long). (Also possibly you could tie in Izzy's death here to underline both Ed and Stede not wanting to lose another person they care about, if we must have that plot point for some reason.) We actually get to see Ed asking Stede to come be innkeepers with him, paralleling asking him to run away to China (and paralleling NOT asking Stede to a fisherman), Stede voices some of his worries (paralleling him keeping them inside in 1x09, but also giving him a chance to explain what piracy and love mean to him and why he'd give up one for the other), but ultimately they agree that they at least want to try.

This both puts them into a much clearer place for a happy ending, has clear growth from S1 and the beginning of this season, but also leaves open a ton of room for S3, because welp, it turns out trying to have a relationship entails all sorts of problems! Especially with these two. It also would make me feel like they'd at least addressed some of the issues between them.

Right now I feel like S3 will have to spend at least the first few episodes running through exactly the same "don't talk – break up – get back together dramatically" arc that Stede and Ed have already done twice but have never discussed and never learned from. I liked it, but I don't need to see it yet again. That will – ironically – feel like yet more wasted time, more episodes that are just churning through beats without moving the characters forward. I wanted them to have new, different fights in S3, but now I don't even feel like they've made enough progress to have a fresh set of problems.

#ofmd meta #our flag means death #ofmd 2x08 #ofmd season 2 #ofmd critical #(I guess)

[gypsypendragon]

Like I could make a tiny Heart Pirates AU and not include Corazon.

His essential role in this is local, lone fisherman who apparently has a knack for sudo-adopting all the wayward kids on the island. (Calls Sengoku one day to tell him he has kids now and almost ends the man's life)

Law was chilling in the water minding his own business when he blinks and suddenly has a dad and a group of rowdy destructive friends. That's it. That's my whole au story.

#artists on tumblr #one piece #heart pirates #heart pirates au #mermaid au #heart pirates penguin #heart pirates shachi #heart pirates one piece #heart pirates law #heart pirates ikkaku #heart pirates clione #heart pirates hakugan #heart pirates uni #one piece corazon #corazon #donquixote rosinante #au

[crabgrave]

okay I'm calling it now. Ed goes off on his "become a fisherman and forget about Stede" arc, except he keeps finding the bottled letters that Stede sent him tangled up in the fishnets. They're floating all around the Republic of Pirates.

#ofmd #ofmd s2 #blackbonnet