KatieSpeakes

Sabo X Reader Those worrisome thoughts have consumed you once again. You couldn’t help it though; not with the knowledge that you were unfortunate to have obtained. Sitting on the cold stone floor in front of a burning fireplace, you thought deeply about what you were going to do. Could you even do anything was an even bigger question, and what would you do if something went wrong. The situation was wildly out of your control just like everything else, and you couldn’t help but panic and worry which is what led you to sit before the fire. You could not sleep because of the panic, so you sat awake instead, staring into the flames as if they’d give you the answer you were looking for. Sabo was going to go do something dangerous again. Far more dangerous than anything else yet. Entering Mary Geoise was a death wish. Territory where Celestial Dragons had free reign to do whatever they pleased was a bad place to be, yet Sabo would be going there soon to do the absolutely maddening task

“ Are you sure?” The words do make him hesitate; his gloved hands only a half an inch away from the scarf that protected his deepest shame. It wasn’t what most people would expect - he had never thought himself ugly or disgusting as people had told him when he was younger. But the shame came from knowing that something so solidly a part of him could get the people he loved hurt. Simply having a face like his own causes violence and pain, and it had been so much easier just to hide it away. And if he hadn’t cared about protecting his siblings, he never would have hid it. But it still makes him hesitate when she asks if he’s sure that he wants to show her. “What if I’m not?” His voice is as gruff and stern as it always is, fixed with a patient sort of monotone that (Y/n) must be used to by now, because her expression of patience doesn’t change. “Then I won’t look.” She says simply. “I can wait as long as you need.” She reaches out, to take one of

“You don’t know what it was like!” “No, because you won’t tell me, (Y/n)!” There’s a frustration that seeps into his voice. A heavy emotion that Katakuri doesn’t often show. But this fight had been one of the first they had ever had. “How am I supposed to just say ‘I was a slave.’? How am I supposed to expect you not to look at me differently when I show you how ugly I am?” Her voice wavers, and the more she speaks, the quieter she gets. But she had said it. She had told him, and a thick silence was set between the two of them. (Y/n) doesn’t want to look up. She doesn’t want to see the look on his face that she knows must be something of pity. He must see how weak she was now - how battered she was, and how unworthy to be here. But instead she feels a hand on her shoulder. “You’re from Mariejois.” It’s not a question, and (Y/n) drops her head and nods. “(Y/n) . . .” His voice tapers off, and he doesn’t continue until she

“Have you ever thought about romance?” “What sort of question is that?” (Y/n) laughs, wiping her hands against the bottom of her skirt as they moved through the streets of Galrod Island - the king had been working for Big Mom, and had apparently decided to head some sort of revolution that had ended with her and Katakuri arriving to wipe out most of the island. And maybe the question wasn’t very appropriate, considering the two of them had just spent the entire day committing mass murder. Years ago, she would have felt bad about it, but (Y/n) had learned since then what a terrible place the world truly was, and before anything else, safety was her priority. She was safe with the Big Mom Pirates - safe with Katakuri. “It was just a question! No need to be so defensive.” “If you’re asking because we’re married, no. I never expected anything except a partnership from you.” (Y/n) watches as Katakuri wipes the blood from the tip of his

tw for entire work : mentions of slavery, abuse, non con, graphic violence There was something so unnerving about the open ocean, and the way its endless deep coated most of the world and enveloped everything it touched. (Y/n) had never liked the way the waves lapped against the side of the ship and rocked everything side to side as if it was threatening to sick them at every moment. And when she had married into the Charlotte family, she had retired from the sea, and it had been perfect; glorious. Despite all of the flaws of the Big Mom Pirates, and all of their wrong doings, they had welcomed her into their family with open arms, and she had been grateful for it. The relief of the protection, the family, and the friends she had made had allowed (Y/n) to sleep better than she had in most of her life. Much of her comfort could be attributed to her husband. Despite the cold, harsh exterior he wore as a shield to the world, he was kind at his heart. A man that cared only of his

All the good girls go to hell, Cuz’ even God Herself, Has enemies . . . She was who everyone dreamed of being. The perfect woman. But to become the perfect one in the eyes of - well, everyone. You needed to have something special; you needed something different that made you shine like no other. (Y/n) found that special something in the form of a devil fruit. It looked like an apple, a bright red with flex of gold traces in the intricate lines of the special, powerful fruit. This fruit created perfection in a way that she had never seen before. It allowed her to become whoever she wanted to be - blonde, petite with an hourglass figure? Raven hair, curves and six foot ten? She could become whatever she wanted to be, and the only thing that would ever stay the same was her eyes. When (Y/n) had first come across this fruit, she had been starving - in the middle of the sea on a rowboat, with nothing but a small pocket of gold and a sealed treasure chest she had stolen of the