The Sanctity Of Sacred Spaces - Blog Posts

Japes and Jubilations, Pt 2

The Sanctity of Sacred Spaces Masterlist

The various antics of the crews and the various ways you’re involved in it.

(Part 1) | YOU ARE HERE | (Part 3) | (Part 4)

Part 2: Soaked

You learn a wise lesson about avoiding Penguin and Shachi after their swim patrols.

The seasoned members of the crew knew better enough than to hang around the wet room or the surrounding areas when Penguin and Shachi came back from their dives.

You, however, were not a seasoned member of the crew. You were never around when the pair headed into the waters, or came back, so you thought nothing of it when you stuck your head into a room upon earring splashing sounds coming from it. Your eyes widened when you saw the strangely structured room and the two equally drenched crew members. 

“Well, that was a good patrol, Peng!” Shachi said, muscles staining as he closed the door and sealed it shut with the hand wheel.  “And we got fish for dinner, too!”

Water poured from them both—and the net of writhing fish at Penguin’s feet—running in rivulets to the drains set throughout the room.

“Oh, hey!” Penguin grinned, catching sign of you. “What’s up?”

“Uh,” you began. “I just heard water splashing and got curious. What’s this room?”

Penguin let out an ‘ah’. “That’s right. You haven’t seen it yet, huh?”

Before you could even blink, Shachi was right next to you. To your horror, one soaking-wet arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you into an equally wet side. You flinched, hands coming up to push him away. The redhead clung to you like a limpet, however, dragging you into the room in question.

“This is the wet room!” Shachi explained, throwing an arm out as if to showcase it. In the background, Penguin made little jazz hands. 

“Cool,” you said limply, lamenting your clothes. It didn’t explain why they were dripping wet, though. 

Penguin’s hat-–still on his head—squelched as he wrung out the flaps. “You have no idea what we’re talking around, do you?”

You shook your head as Shachi wilted in disappointment.

“The island we come from is a North Blue island,” Penguin explained. “For ours, we have especially cold harbors, and a high percentage of the population also boast fishman ancestry.”

You squinted. “So you and Shachi are part fishmen, then?”

“Yep!” Shachi said, popping the ‘p’. He leaned closer and grinned, pulling at his mouth to show you his teeth. A veritable row of canines gleamed at you, sharp and pointed like a predator’s.

“Huh,” you said eloquently. Your uniform dripped onto the floor.

Penguin lifted the ears of his hat when you looked over, giving you a peek of the short, dark hair by the side of his head. On his temple was a scattering of smooth, pale-blue and black  scales, glinting in the light. They littered his hairline in small patches down to his neck, peeking through the dark strands of hair there.

“Pretty…”

Shachi groaned. “‘Pretty’, is that all you have to say??? Seriously?? I have fangs! We have gills!”

“Back to the point,” Penguin redirected before Shich could strip down to show you wherever his gills were. “This is the room Shachi and I use to get in and out of the sub underwater. The inventor who made this submarine built it especially for us, but it’s good for the crew to know how it works too.”

Shachi finally left your side to slap the door he was closing earlier. “This bad boy is fitted with a two-door system, both with built-in seals. The first hatch is on the outside and opens slowly to let water and us in from the outside. It closes and a system drains and pumps it back out. Once done, this inner door unseals and Penguin and I can enter the sub.”

“The two-door system helps control the water pressure, so there’s less chance of a leak,” Penguin said.

“Penguin-ya, Shachi-ya are you guys still in here—” Law stopped and stared at you, a pitying look on his face. “Ah, you got poor Tailor-ya…”

You squinted at that statement and his all too knowing look at your state, trying to straighten out your clothes. “W-What do you mean? Is this like something common?”

“Well…” Penguin began.

Shachi began whistling innocently.

“The crew always avoid them when they come back because they always latch on to the nearest person before changing out,” Law said. “Everyone’s been a victim of them at least once. I forgot to warn you.”

“Well, at least I’m not all the way wet,” you grumbled, pulling at your shirt.

“I’m surprised about that, too,” Law drawled, shifting his sword on his shoulder. “Usually both of them go for their victim at once.”

That was the wrong thing to say as both men stilled, head turning to look at you before at each other.

“Hug time!” They exclaimed.

Your eyes widened. “Hey, hey, hey, NO—”

Two bodies slammed into either side of you, pinning you in between them with a wet squelch.

At seeing your distraught expression, Law grimaced in sympathy. 

Both men had to unstick themselves from you, attention going to Law as they dragged you along. “Let’s get Cap!”

He quickly pulled up his Devil Fruit Powers to Shamble away, a scrap of paper fluttering to the ground where he was.

Japes and Jubilation, Pt 1

The Sanctity of Sacred Spaces Masterlist

The various antics of the crews and the various ways you’re involved in it.

YOU ARE HERE | (Part 2) | (Part 3) | (Part 4)

Part 1: Eyebrows

Hakugan comes with a little request

Rapid-fire knocking—no, pounding at your door made you scowl and throw down the pair of pants in your hands. What was the point of telling the crew to knock so they wouldn’t disturb your work if they’d go ahead and slam on your door like the world was ending?

Yanking the door open, you greeted the perpetrator with a curt, “What?”

Hakugan swayed on his feet, as if he didn’t almost bring your door down. Uncaring of your irritation, he leaned closer to you. “Are you free? Can I come in?”

You raised an eyebrow but stepped aside. “What do you need, Hakugan?”

“Do you have any of that sticky fabric thing?”

“What?”

Hakugan brought his hand together and pulled them apart, mimicking some sort of ripping, peeling sound.

“... Do you mean velcro?”

“Yes! Do you have any more of that.”

“I do, why?”

He leaned closer to you, excitement in his body language. “I have an idea.”

Seeing the man nearly vibrating in unrestrained glee, you held your composure for a few seconds before ultimately caving. “Alright, I’ll bite. What is it?”

Hakugan let out a little cheer, leaning closer as he rapid-fired off his idea to you. A slow smile cracked over your face as you envisioned the visual laid out. “Okay. I’ll do it. Do you have a spare?”

Hakugan whipped out a mask from the recesses of his boiler suits, and you twitched at the fact he already prepared for your involvement with it. You shook your head, disappointed with yourself that you were using such precious materials on something so silly. The only saving grace (and reason that you were doing it in the first place) was that there were some scraps left over from when you made the attachable pockets for the boiler suits.

As you laid out everything on your work table and turned your light on, you could feel the helmsman hovering behind you, peering over your shoulders. You got through the first half of your task, used to the man’s antics. It wasn’t a bother until your elbow began knocking into Hakugan. You stopped your work and looked back at him, and he tilted his face up to you, cocking his head silently.

Before you could regret it, you gingerly offered him your sewing needle. “Do you want to try?”

Hakugan perked up, and you could almost imagine an imaginary tail wagging behind him. “Are you sure?”

“Yos. I’ll walk you through it.”

He was a surprisingly good student, attentive and focused despite what his general demeanor might’ve shown him to be. There were a few learning curves and adjustments where you had to help him hold and position the fabric, but soon he was merrily finishing it up on his own.

Hakugan held up the mask, letting out a victorious cheer. “Alright! Thank you so much!”

You let out an affirmative ‘yos’ . “Don’t think much about it.”

The two of you remained holed up in your workshop until it was time to switch off the navigation teams, heading there together with the others who would be navigating the Tang through this turbulent part of the waters.

Morsa pulled the door open for the lot of you, and Tanaka sighed at seeing the relief shift coming to take over. “Glad you guys are here!”

“Hm,” Hakugan said as he left your side, and walked up next to the taller topographer, falling back into his role as helmsman easily. Nobody noticed that anything was amiss as he made sure that his mask was obscured for the most part. “What’s the update?”

“Well, it seems like we’ve moved out of the enclosed space so far,” Tanaka said. “We—”

His words cut off in a choke as he glanced at Hakugan.

“Hm, what was that, Tanaka?” Ikkaku asked as she squinted at the sonar system.

“Guys!” The bespectacled man grabbed Hakugan by the shoulders and spun him around to face everyone.

The navigation room fell silent as they saw Hakugan’s mask. The man tilted his head innocently, hands coming up to the mask. “What?”

Loud ripping noises echoed in the room as he peeled off the thick, dark eyebrows and slapped them on to make a confused frown. 

“Hakugan,” Ikkaku began. “What the fuck.”

Said helmsman shot a thumbs up to the crew.

Initiation

Part of "The Sanctity of Sacred Spaces" series

The Heart Pirates were overwhelming. So loud and chaotic that you didn’t know how you’d ever fit in with them. But you didn’t have any need to worry.

Takes place near the beginning of reader's journey with the crew.

Though you had joined (more like forced yourself into) the Heart Pirates in a blaze of chaos and explosions (quite literally), that courage didn’t stay in the aftermath of everything. When it was all said and done, and you’d stitched in a place on the Polar Tang as their tentative tailor, all the fight and bravery went down the drain.

Though you couldn’t say that you thrived on talking to others, you boasted fair enough people skills (which was more than could be said for their—your captain). Just enough for you to be known as a cordial and affable person. But with your history, growing up as you did, you had to say that your inclinations leaned more to that of reservedness.

The same could not be said for this new group of people you found yourself with.

They were loud, you already knew that from your initial introduction to them. But now, in close quarters and a confined space, the noise absolutely echoed. The sense of camaraderie was strong with them, inside jokes and banter flowing like water between them all. They would often include you in it too.

“Hey, Newbie!”

You froze as Ikkaku honed in on you, a touch of wildness in her eyes as she sped to you, dragging Clione along with her.

“Oi, don’t involve other people in with this!” the hooded blonde complained, but he still cornered you alongside the tall woman.

“We need you to settle this for us!” Ikkaku declared, crossing her arms. “Clione thinks that white lights are the best interior lights. But obviously, warmer lights are better than cool ones, yeah? You agree, right?”

“No???! Don’t influence the Newbie!”

“Shut up, you’re just angry because I’m right!”

“Uhm,” you began warily. “I think white lights are good if you want to maintain alertness, but warmer-toned lights are good for relaxation. Depending on what you need, one cn be better for your eyes than the other.”

Both stared at you blankly.

“Yeah, but which one is better?” Ikkaku prompted.

“I… They all have their…uses…”

Both members threw their hands up in twin displays of frustration. “That doesn’t help at all!”

They devolved back into their squabble, and you took a step away.

Two heads snapped at you. “Stay here!”

Your shoulders sunk down as you glanced furtively down the hall to see if anybody was coming. It seems like you’ll be stuck with them for a bit.

But not only did they pull you into the most mundane of conversations, but they were also touchy.

Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi were guilty of being particularly forward, the three having no qualms being in everyone’s space. While Bepo’s was well-intentioned—the Mink trying his best not to overstep his boundaries aside from when he’d scoop someone up in a hug—Penguin and Shachi had no qualms about holding back. Crewmates were often the victim of one or both of them leaning on them at once, on either side. The first time they did that, you nearly jumped a foot in the air, if not for their weight on you. 

The bolts of fabrics you were carrying thumped to the ground as you were jostled by twin pairs of arms, pushing you down. “Ah!”

“Whatcha got there, Newbie?” Penguin asked.

“New fabrics for the boiler suits,” you replied, wiggling out of their hold to hurriedly pick up the nearest roll, inspecting them for any stains. You would’ve snapped at the pair for making you drop them, but you were too busy fretting, and did not want to piss off the unofficial-official first mates of the captain. “I–Uh, C-Captain approved of this particular type. It’s more suitable to the conditions of the Tang than your suits now.”

“Oh shit, really?” Shachi crouched down right next to you, his side pressed up against your own as he grabbed the bolt of fabric you were holding while Penguin began gathering the other rolls.

The taller man tried to pick up all up, but let out a curse as their weight bore down on him. “Holy crap—”

You wobbled as his heat burned into your side, a hand reaching out to steady him as you took a few off to lighten the load.

“How the hell were you carrying so many with your stature?!?” Penguin ask incredulously, tugging his hat back in place.

“I’m used to it,” you said simply, reaching for the rest in his hold. However, a hand fisted the back of your current suit’s collar and hauled you up. “Ack–!”

“No need!” Shachi announced, wrapping his arm back around your shoulders. “Big Bro Peng and I will help you carry them!”

“Are you sure this is not you two trying to worm out of the Captain’s duties again…?” You asked.

“No way!”

“That’s silly!”

(They were, in fact, trying to dodge responsibilities.)

Though, despite their welcoming air, you couldn’t help but linger at the edges of everything. Too afraid to integrate yourself into their folds. Yes, you may have been brought on as their tailor—a position sorely needed as the most experienced person before you were the poor cook who at most knew how to do basic stitching—but you were still Newbie, first and foremost. Still clumsy when taking up the shared duties and occasionally getting lost in the halls. Your position here was strenuous at best, and you feared that there would be whatever reason that made them drop you off at the next island they docked at.

You peeked your head into the mess hall, wondering what was important enough that you were summoned there after your watch duties 

Shousai was the first to see you, the large, bald man waving a gloved hand at you. “Oi, Newbie, there you are!”

That sent an excited titter over the crew.

“Newbie’s here!”

“About time!”

“What took you so long?”

You took a tentative step into the room, but remained near the doors, wringing your hands. They had called you over the intercoms in the middle of you reworking he boiler suits, so it made you anxious to resume working.  “What’s… happening…?”

“Since, you’ve been doing a stellar job aboard the Polar Tang,” Bepo announced. “It’s about time that you get initiated into the group pose!”

“Group pose?”

The Mink nodded, completely serious. “Yes! We Heart Pirates take pride in our crew, so it’s imperative that we are ready to show that pride whenever Captain introduces us!”

Slowly shuffling backward, you asked, “Do I have to do it?”

“Yeah!” Clione yelled. “We all have to do it! You’re part of the crew, now. You can’t get out of this, Newbie!”

Hands grabbed your shoulders, and you looked back, expression full of betrayal as you found Uni to be the one pushing you to the group. The stoic man’s expression gave nothing away, except for the slightest pinch in the corners of his eyes that indicated amusement.

More hands grabbed at your arms when you were in range, Uni leaving to assume his position once he ensured that Shachi’s hold on you rendered escape impossible. You were shuffled from person to person, but for once, their touches didn’t make you tense nor freeze the way touches used to. They had, without you realizing, wormed their way through your guards as much as you’ve settled into their rank. In their endearingly Heart Pirates way.

Weak. Would have been what he called them. Called you. But those were just the whispers of the dead.

Shosai muttered your name as you were slotted right next to him. “You have to convince Risso to make something other than broiled rice cakes and peas and fish for dinner.”

“He says we have to try and conserve our supplies,” you protested quietly as Omura’s elbow dug into your shoulder.

“Yes, but we all know there are much better combinations than fish and peas.”

Scanning the group for the yellow newsboy hat and braids of the cook, you asked, “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

“He likes you more!”

Bepo turned to give the both of you a chastising look as Shachi shushed you two. The Mink waited until the redhead ran through the positioning of your arms and legs. “Okay, Newbie! We’re going to do it now. Do you have the pose memorized?”

“Yes,” you said sulkily, resigned to your fate.

“Okay, Heart Pirates! Three, two, one!”

The crew burst into a clamoring of noise and limbs, you following suit with a heaping dose of embarrassment.

Your face burned  even hotter as, right after, the captain walked into the room. Law didn’t even blink as he saw the group of you in the mess hall, mug of coffee in his hands as he sipped on it. The crew held that pose, as if waiting for his approval.

He looked at you all with a sharp eye, amusement shining through as he cocked his head. “I think you should move Newbie-ya more to the left.”

“COME ON, CAPTAIN!”

Your face quivered as you fought a smile. Surrounded on all sides by lively figures, you undeniably felt warm.

Eventually, the nickname fell away, to be replaced with your own name or “Tailor”. Years later, as you and your nakama—a little bruised, and battered, but now twenty strong—assembled into that ridiculous group pose to greet Straw Hat, Shosai lifting you up onto his shoulders so you could throw your arms up and out into a victorious ‘V’, Jean Bart’s steady presence behind you, you couldn’t feel a greater sense of belonging.

Tyrant of the Laundry Room

Part of the Heart Pirates X reader series: Sanctity of Sacred Space

Laundry duty was your favorite. Though your nakama couldn’t agree.

To say you quite liked laundry duty was an understatement.

Always the first to sign up, taking the worst shifts or the day with the heaviest load, never a complaint coming from you except for the crew to take care of their clothes more.

As often as you could, you’d swap laundry duty with anyone willing on the crew. It had gotten bad enough at a certain point until Law had banned anybody from swapping laundry duty with you for a month until the redness on your hands died down. After that, he had imposed a strict limitation of how many times a certain chore could be done until the rota refreshed.

The rest of the crew never quite understood your fervor for this particular chore, as to many, this was down at the bottom of the list on how much they wanted to do it, alongside dish duty. Shachi had—the third time you asked to swap with him—grabbed you by the shoulders and peered deep into your eyes through his shades to ask if you were okay. He couldn’t believe that you simply just wanted to.

But the reason was simple.

Your passion as a tailor did not just simply end at making and fixing clothes. It extended into their care and upkeep. You knew the best way to cut linen, the specific direction it needed to reduce shrinkage in the long run. You knew how to remove all manner of stains, and you meant it. Not even the discolorations on Shachi’s hat stood a chance when you got your hands on it. 

It was the first thing you chose to learn after he died, the world opening up at your fingertips without the pressure of what you had to do. Your experience with a gun meant blood often found itself at home on your things and he didn’t care enough about appearances to bother keeping things stain-free. So as an act of rebellion, the first thing you did was to learn about clothes. The seamstresses and launderers at your old village were thrilled to have a fresh face so interested in their trade, and wasted no time in teaching you everything they knew. What that man forced you to be, and what those ladies taught you, were the only relic you had of your childhood.

And laundry duty was the one chance where you got to stretch out this knowledge and allow yourself a chance to shine.

Though, that passion tended to be a bit overbearing for those who worked with you. 

“Shachi, you don’t crank the heat all the way up for those!”

Crossing the space, you shoved yourself into the redhead’s space as you fiddled with the controls on the machines.

“You’re lucky that I caught this in time, you idiot!”

“But doesn’t turning it up make them dry faster??”

“NOT LIKE THIS!” Your screech echoed through the room. “We have fragile polyester-based stuff in there! You’re going to melt them!”

“It can’t be that bad, right?!?”

“HOW ABOUT I MELT YOUR SHADES FOR YOU TO FIND OUT?!?”

The screaming echoed through even the halls, those lucky enough to escape laundry duty with you chuckling at Shachi’s misfortune. You ran laundry day with a militant fist, hunting down those who forgot their clothes with a dogged focus. It was terrifying to get in your way, and even more terrifying to be stuck working the shift with you. No matter how much you begged, Law refused to let you shoulder the burden of washing everything by yourself. It was a well-known fact by now that your standards were hellish to meet, and you did not go gentle on those who failed (save Bepo and Law).

But at the end of the day, when the Heart Pirates received their laundry back, delightfully warm and cleaner than they’ve ever been before you arrived, they were glad that their beloved tailor cared so much.

Peace and All Else

Part of my Heart Pirates x Reader series: The Sanctity of Sacred Spaces

With a life as chaotic as yours, you preferred quietness where you could find it.

You were someone who valued your peace. Not just as a personal preference, but for your job as well, as any interruption could result in an errant stitch, ruining the clothing, or a needle through the finger.

This need for quietness was ironic, considering you were on a crew of pirates, whose lives were marked by nothing but unending chaos. 

Paradoxical. Peculiar. But when you were a pirate crew who had a doctor at the helm, it didn’t seem that strange. You were simply one oddball amongst a crew full of them. Which lent to many, many escapades that echoed throughout the Tang. It was never silent, whether it be the noise of her machines humming away, or the sound of the galley’s mealtime preparations, there was always life in her halls. 

You wouldn’t trade it for any other thing, but sometimes everyone’s antics were a little overwhelming, and you had to slip away to seek out a moment of peace. Innevitably, you’d always end up in a few places. Namely: your storage-room-turned-workshop. 

After your welcoming into the folds of the Heart Pirates, they were kind enough to clear out an empty broom closet and convert it into a mini workspace for you. You had initially protested that it was too much, but Shachi had quickly shushed you by saying you’d pay it back by repairing everyone’s stuff and fixing up the infirmary’s linens. 

Eventually, those bolted shelves were filled until with rolls and rolls of fabrics, projects finished and not set in marked piles on your desk. Your walls filled with papers, ideas and sketches (both yours and not) displayed proudly. An almost-too-big-couch crammed right into the last unoccupied corner of the room, with a lopsided mannequin that Ikkaku fixed up for you standing proudly right next to it.

A home away from home.

Well, just a home now. You didn’t have any other place except with the Heart Pirates.

And in this peace, you could relax, and unwind. Pick up a thread and needle and weave your love into every fold and stitch of the fabric in your hands. Love that you hoped your nakama could feel.

Your hands jolted as the door to your workshop slammed open with a cry of your name. You grabbed the nearest object, a spare pincushion, and lobbed it with deadly accuracy at the intruder. Penguin yelped as the item beaned him right on the forehead, the brim of his hat barely protected him against your wrath. “What was that for?!?!”

“HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU TO KNOCK BEFORE YOU ENTER?! AND TO NOT SLAM MY DOOR?!”

“Sorry, sorry! But can I hide in here for a bit?”

You squinted at him, anger giving way to suspicion. “Why…?”

“Please!” The man clasped his hands in front of him, stepping into the room. “I’ll do anything!!”

An idea sparked in your head. “If you take my dish duty tonight… You can stay for as long as you want and I won’t rat you out if anybody comes asking.”

Not that you particularly hated doing the dishes, you knew the importance of equal distributions of chores (Law drilled that into every members’ head on the daily), but just this once, you had something pressing you’ve been wanting to do, so the extra time gained from Penguin taking on your duty was exactly what you needed.

Penguin didn’t even flinch. “I’ll take it!”

You grinned and let out a little ‘yos’. “You can hide behind the couch, There’s space there, and the floor’s padded.”

He was full of thanks as he dove behind the furniture, shuffling coming from it as he settled there. To complete the look, you walked over, grabbing the blanket on there, and draping it over the back of the couch, making it look natural.

Just as you were patting out the last of the wrinkles, slow, steady footsteps approached your workshop. A knock announced Uni’s presence before he stuck his head in through the open door.

“Hello, Uni. Can I help you with anything?”

A drone of your name. “Have you seen Penguin anywhere?”

You had to resist a smile. “No. Are you looking for him?”

A nod. Slow eyes tracked across your workshop but ultimately landed back on you again, standing next to the couch. “He used my gloves and didn’t clean off the grease.”

Wincing at that, you wondered why the hatted man thought that was smart in the first place. Uni’s gloves were far bigger than Penguin’s, but they were also slimmer, so shoving his mitts into those could’ve popped a few stitches. “If you want, you can bring them here, and I’ll fix and clean them up for you,” you offered.

Uni shook his head. “No need. I have spares. But I’m going to find Penguin to make him clean off the ones he used.”

“Okay. Good luck.”

“Thank you. Sorry for bothering you.”

“You’re fine, Uni. See you around.”

You waited until his footsteps were out of earshot before cracking a smile. Penguin shot you a grateful thumbs up and a grin when you peeked your head over to look at him. “It’s pretty comfy down here,” he said, wiggling his shoulders a bit. “Mind if I sleep here a bit?”

“Be my guest,” you drawled, wandering back to your desk and picking up your pencil. “I’m sure the dust bunnies appreciate the company.”

I appreciate your company, was left unsaid, but you hoped Penguin understood.

Peace returned to the room, only interrupted by the sound of your pencil and paper as you sketched your way through clothing patterns. Then, the quiet whistles of Penguin’s snores began to fill the air. You paused your work, before shaking your head with a fond smile.

You didn’t know how long you worked before there was a small flash of blue and Penguin’s snores being cut off for something to hit the floor where he was. Knowing that it could only be Law’s fruit, you got up to investigate what was Shambled into your room to swap with Penguin. 

A note, attached to one of your missing pincushions by a pin.

“That bastard,” you muttered, reaching down to grab everything from the floor.

‘Stop hiding people in your workshop’ the messy scrawl of his handwriting read. 

You snickered, sitting back down at your work desk and depositing the pincushion in its rightful place on your table. Your lamp flickered on, and you moved it so it shone over the drawing on your table, a revised boiler suit for Bepo that had more ventilation, so the poor Mink wouldn’t feel the heat as much when things inevitably got hot in the Polar Tang.

Yes, you valued your peace. But your workshop was a sanctuary, too. Not just for you, but every single one of your nakama that wanted to wander through your doors, in search of help, repairs, or just plain comfort. Peace came in many forms, and your nakama’s peace was yours.