#Brig Break

[data2364]

Andrea Parker as Kate Pike 1995 in JAG “Brig Break“

https://ncis.fandom.com/wiki/Brig_Break_(episode)

[moreaugriffins]

[jumbledthemes]

Ngl I was expecting All the baby bastards to be from them so the first two surprised me that they weren't so I gave up on it

[mercymc]

can we talk about the fact though that the Le Sserafim event/crossover implies that Brig is 100% the type to just, yeet herself off of videogame-esque ramps to avoid traffic and everyone is just enabling it. Yall girls night is wild

[lochlot-moved]

scrappy s1 Jesse and el Camino Jesse I did in Aggie with brigggg .

[littlequeenies]

January 21, 2002 - Lee and Jason Starkey attend the Orange and Dazed and Confused Big Break Awards at the Great Eastern Hotel at Liverpool Street in London, England.

[universalcaffination]

Kirk: bones! Where is that report you said you would send me hours ago?

Bones:

My first attempt at comics and not my first attempt at humor.

[flwrstqr]

𓈒 ENHYPEN REACTION WHEN YOU KISS THEM TO SHUT UP ˒

── ୨୧ enha x f!reader 𝗀enre. fluff, imagines, ot7 works 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽 counts . . . 1556 𝔀arning not proofread, kisses, petnames, slightly suggestive ┊DANi NOTEZ ‎⸝⸝⸝ since u guys love my ot7 works, here i am ◞[ continue on to . . . library , request ]

! feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated and encouraged! PLS REBLOG ♡

HEESEUNG (이희승)

heeseung is talking animatedly, his hands gesturing to emphasize his points, his excitement clear in his voice. he's jumping from topic to topic, barely pausing for breath. you watch him, excited after each topic.

then, you lean in and press your lips against his mid-sentence.

heeseung's eyes widen in surprise, and he freezes for a moment, caught off guard. his words die on his lips as he processes what's happening. the shock quickly gives way to a soft smile against your lips, and he relaxes, his hands moving to gently hold your face or wrap around your waist.

when you finally pull away, his cheeks are flushed, and there's a mix of surprise and amusement in his eyes. "that's one way to get me to shut up," he says breathlessly, a grin spreading across his face. he then leans back in to kiss you again.

rest of the members below !!

JAY (박종성)

jay is mid-laugh, delivering another dad joke that you find more cheesy than funny. as he laughs at his own punchline, you lean in and kiss him suddenly. jay’s eyes go wide, and he freezes, caught off guard.

it takes a few moments for him to process what's happening, but then he starts to kiss you back. when you pull away, his face is flushed, and he looks adorably flustered.

“wow, uh… didn’t expect that,” he stammers, scratching the back of his neck. “were my jokes that bad?”

you laugh and shake your head. “no, I just wanted to shut you up in the best way.”

jay grins, still a bit red, and leans in for another kiss, "i guess it worked,"

JAKE (심재윤)

jake begins talking about his favorite things, his enthusiasm lighting up his face. he's so engrossed in his talking that he doesn't notice you leaning in until your lips press against his.

unlike the first few times, jake's reaction is instant and natural. he seamlessly transitions from talking to kissing, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you closer. his hands move to cradle your face, deepening the kiss with a familiar intensity that makes your heart race.

when you finally break apart, both of you are breathless. jake rests his forehead against yours, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "I should talk more often if it gets me kisses like that, princess" he teases, his voice low and husky.

you laugh softly, your hands still resting on his chest. "you do talk a lot, but I don't mind shutting you up this way."

jake grins, his eyes sparkling. "good, because I plan on talking a lot more." he leans in for another kiss, his words trailing off as he gets lost in the moment with you.

SUNGHOON (박성훈)

sunghoon is deep in conversation, his voice steady and eyes focused as he talks. you find his seriousness so cute but can't resist the urge to interrupt him in a playful way. leaning in, you press your lips to his, catching him completely off guard.

he freezes, his words halting abruptly, eyes wide with confusion. He doesn't move even as you pull away, his brain struggling to catch up with what just happened. a few seconds pass in stunned silence, his cheeks slowly turning a deep shade of red.

"wow… what just happened?" he finally stammers, his voice soft and dazed.

You can't help but smile at his adorable face, "just wanted to shut you up," you tease gently.

he’s clearly flustered, but there's no mistaking the delight in his expression. sunghoon glances at you, his eyes sparkling with affection. "can we… do that again?" he asks tentatively, his blush deepening.

you nod, leaning in once more, and this time, sunghoon eagerly meets you halfway, his initial confusion giving way to a sweet soft kiss.

SUNOO (김선우)

sunoo is mid-sentence, sharing a story with his usual bright enthusiasm. as he goes on, you decide to silence him in the most delightful way. leaning in, you kiss him, and he immediately responds, almost as if he anticipated it.

when you pull back, Sunoo's eyes are twinkling with amusement. He chuckles softly, a playful grin spreading across his face. "I knew you were going to do that," he says, his tone teasing.

you laugh, shaking your head. "You did, huh?"

he nods, looking smug and affectionate all at once. "you always do when I talk too much."

"maybe I just like kissing you," you counter, smirking.

Sunoo's grin widens, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. "well, in that case, I guess I’ll just have to keep talking."

JUNGWON (양정원)

jungwon is in the middle of expressing his thoughts, his eyes bright. sensing a perfect opportunity, you lean in and plant a kiss on his lips, catching him off guard.

at first, Jungwon freezes, his eyes widening in surprise. but he quickly recovers, smoothly transitioning into kissing you back. his hands gently find their way to your waist, pulling you closer as he responds with equal intensity.

when you finally break the kiss, jungwon's expression is a mixture of surprise and a hint of amusement. he clears his throat slightly, a confident smile playing on his lips. "well, that's one way to stop me, baby" he says, his voice teasing.

you chuckle softly, enjoying his playful response. "I thought you might appreciate the direct approach," you reply with a grin.

jungwon nods, his eyes twinkling with affection. "I definitely do,"

RIKI (西村力)

riki teasing you as usual, his smirk widening. sensing the perfect opportunity to surprise him, you lean in and plant a kiss on his lips, effectively silencing him.

instead of being taken aback, riki smirks against the kiss. he responds by deepening the kiss, his hands lightly resting on your waist as he pulls you closer.

as the kiss intensifies, you find yourself momentarily flustered by his unexpected reaction. his playful demeanor and the way he effortlessly turns the tables leaving you so flustered. when you finally pull away, Riki’s smirk has softened into a knowing smile, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"well, that's one way to catch me off guard," he comments casually, his voice low and teasing.

you try to regain your composure, a faint blush spreading across your cheeks. "I… uh, didn't expect you to flirt back like that," you admit, feeling a bit flustered.

riki chuckles softly, his hand brushing against yours reassuringly. "you started it, pretty girl," he teases lightly, his smirk returning as he leans in to kiss you again.

[disteal]

We just finished that jenny nicholson star wars hotel video and idk WHY but chewbaccas ‘plot’ in the storyline being ‘constantly breaking out of jail and being getting arrested again’ had us DYING. Like maybe it was emblematic of how truly vapid and disengaged the running storyline was but seeing this 8ft expressionless oaf CONSTANTLY get dragged to and from the brig was some surreal looney toons shit.

[whump-in-the-closet]

Pirate Whump

the brig!! thrown in there and forgotten while saltwater seeps through and drenches whumpee constantly leaving them coughing and miserable

lack of sleep, forced to be on duty for hours at a time

smacking whumpee to the deck with a blow that leaves their eyes watering.

scrubbing the deck until their hands are scraped and bleeding. their arms and back ache so badly that when they stand up, they immediately double over.

flogging for minor mistakes. the humiliation of having their shirt ripped away and the stabbing, sharp pain of the cat o'nine tails on their skin is enough to break down the most stoic of the crew

collapsing on deck. in general. fainting. nausea. suddenly light headed and woozy from blood loss

falling to the deck on hands and knees and scraping them on the rough, worm-eaten wood

hostage situations on “friendly” terms. whumpee can wander around on deck and maybe they even joke around with some of the pirates. but the minute they try to escape, there’s a sweeping blade at their throat and someone roughly manhandling them to the captains quarters to be “dealt with”

being made an example of for misconduct is often extreme and cruel. there are no laws on the high seas

the damage left by the opposing side’s cannon fire? timber embedded in limbs, gaping wounds, and formerly brave sailors curling up in fetal positions to try and protect themselves

a captain whumper who calls their prisoner whumpee “darling” in the most derogatory way possible.

emergency first aid being applied hurriedly and with unskilled hands.bandages made from old shirts, amputations done unabashedly and crew mates being carried back fireman style to their ship.

“bite down on this” and “don’t look” as they cut away a damaged limb, multiple crew members holding whumpee down

mer whumpees— caught and put on a leash so they’re dragged along the side of the boat. sometimes they pull whumpee up and “have a bit of fun” as whumpee thrashes and gasps for air.

captain whumpee found stranded on an island by an opposing captain. they’re “taken care of” by being humiliated and beaten, laughed at, and forced to be the cabin boy

[data2364]

Tracey Needham as Meg Austin 1995 in JAG “Brig Break“

https://ncis.fandom.com/wiki/Brig_Break_(episode)

[minibagelqueen]

So, bear with me here...

What if Zuko got an attack of conscience on the way back to the Fire Nation, after Azula attacked Aang? After breaking Uncle out of the brig, and fleeing in a rowboat a great storm tossed him into the waves. Iroh desperately searched and called for him in the broiling foam and prayed to Agni to save him as he couldn't. Agni answered his prayers and ensured their warrior washed up safely on an island that would sustain him. Later Agni came to Iroh in a dream and told him he needed to find the Avatar. Zuko would be okay. But the Avatar needed a teacher. So Iroh trusted the Gods and the Spirits and set out to find the Avatar.

And what if during Aang's recovery on the stolen Fire Nation ship they were discovered and attacked. In the fray and in saving his Father's life, Sokka was thrown overboard? Aang, weakened from Azula's attack couldn't try and rescue Sokka. Katara dove in but couldn't find him. So Aang asked for Yue's help. She saved Sokka, sending him to an island where he could survive.

If the sun and the moon just happened to plot that this was the same island for both Zuko and Sokka... Well, that's just a coincidence only...

Be prepared for sporadic, inconsistent and random, aged-up, 'Wrecked' pictures. NSFW pictures are due and I just have to find the right platform for that... Perhaps my AO3...🤔 But anyway... Keep a look out! I will link (I am diving deep and never coming up for a breath in my renewed obsession of these two)

[opencommunion]

"A December investigation by Israeli newspaper Yedioth Ahronoth revealed that Israel implemented against its own civilians captured on 7 October a version of its Hannibal directive: Israel used overwhelming lethal force even at the risk of killing Israelis along with their Palestinian captors, in order to avoid leaving them alive to be held captive in Gaza, and to avoid having to pay a steep political price for their return. Although Israel’s application of the Hannibal directive was widespread on 7 October, its implementation at the Cohen home stands out because more captives were killed there than in any other single structure on that day. One high-ranking Israeli officer called the army’s actions there an 'exponential Hannibal.' ... In late December the ranking officer who led Israel’s reconquest of the kibbutz – 99th Infantry Division commander and then commander-in-waiting of the Gaza Division, Brig. Gen. Barak Hiram – admitted to The New York Times that he ordered an Israeli tank to fire shells at the house, though he knew there were still-living Israeli captives inside. 'Break in, even at the cost of civilian casualties,' Hiram recalled ordering the tank commander. ... It is unlikely that the Israeli army will either fully endorse his explanations of the 'mass Hannibal' incident at Pessi Cohen’s house, or reveal all it knows about what really happened there on 7 October, because to do so would force it to undercut a pillar of Israeli propaganda about the events of that day: that Hamas heartlessly executed Israeli babies – a lie promoted by Hiram, but first invented by the commander of the Israeli army’s home front national rescue unit, Colonel Golan Vach.

... The day after Vach invented the lie of eight burned babies at the Pessi Cohen house, Yasmin Porat retold her survival story to the Israeli press, this time to Kan radio. Again she explained how she and a group of Israelis that included no small children were violently captured by Hamas and held hostage at Pessi Cohen’s home, but thereafter treated humanely and neither executed nor harmed in any other way. ... Colonel Golan Vach’s new allegations of 19 and even 23 Israeli civilians murdered by Hamas at the Cohen home created a serious problem for General Hiram, who had ordered the tank shelling. Vach’s tallies of the number of Israeli civilians killed there were up to 50 percent higher than the correct figures repeatedly reported by Yasmin Porat, who survived the bloodbath. Worse yet, Vach had introduced eight infants into the death toll – babies who had never existed. Hiram then had no choice but to alter his rendition of events, inflating the figures he had divulged to the Israeli news outlet Walla two weeks earlier. ... Hiram’s numerous lies about the battle at the Be’eri home of Pessi Cohen were apparently attempts to shield himself from the consequences of his command decisions. ... It is likely that Hiram’s main motive for lying about the events at Be’eri was to avoid repercussions for ending the lives of Israeli civilians in one of the most ghastly ways imaginable, burning them to death. ... Army rescue chief Colonel Golan Vach, however, who only arrived at Be’eri hours after those decisive tank shells were shot, did not lie about the battle out of loyalty to Hiram. Rather, he had his own motive for spinning Israel’s military failures into anti-Semitic atrocity tales: to manufacture consent for Israel’s utter annihilation of the Gaza Strip.

... Because of his stature and reputation, Israel’s national rescue chief Golan Vach was believed by reporters and editors all over the world, who published his bald-faced lies about Palestinians decapitating and burning to death Israeli babies on 7 October, even without any evidence. ... If they had only dismissed his gaslighting and done their due diligence, those same media outlets would have found plenty of evidence in the public domain of Vach’s desire 'to clear this region' of Palestinians without regard for 'human rights' from well before that date."

[silentheiss]

Shen Qingqiu laughs breathlessly as the corpse of Black-Eyed Vapor Puma falls soundlessly by his feet. He is windswept, rosy-cheeked and so beautiful Liu Qingge’s heart breaks, pieces itself back together and then breaks again.

“Shidi!” Shen Qingqiu jumps over the disfigured body easily and comes to stand beside him. “That was magnificent. You truly are an artist!”

If Liu Qingge was an artist he’d be painting Shen Qingqiu’s portraits and writing him sonnets. But all he can do is kill, and, for some cruel twist of fame, Shen Qingqiu seems to like it when Liu Qingge kills.

His fascination with all things ugly makes Liu Qingge want to tear his soul out and present it to his shixiong. Maybe he’ll like it, too.

“Do you think his partner is nearby? They tend to travel in pairs. It’s not quite a mating season yet, but who knows?”

Liu Qingge looks around the clearing. It’s void of anything at all. They’re alone.

“If it had a partner we’d see it by now.”

“Yes, Liu-shidi, you must be right.” Shen Qingqiu looks around, too.

His gaze inevitably circles back to Liu Qingge and his eyes turn brigs and mischievous for a moment. Then, he reaches out and his slim fingers graze against Liu Qingge’s hair. When he takes his hand back there’s a rumpled flower in between his fingers.

“My shidi can’t help being beautiful even in the middle of the fight. He even acquired a hairpiece.”

Liu Qingge breaks.

“Don’t do this to me.” He whispers, eyes falling close and breathing getting faster. “Please, shixiong, don’t.”

He doesn’t dare look, but he hears a soft, questioning noise.

“Don’t do what, shidi?”

“Don’t call me beautiful.”

“But you are?”

He doesn’t understand. He refuses to see how his words cut Liu Qingge like a knife.

“Just don’t.”

There’s silence. Then:

“Shidi. Won’t you look at me?”

Liu Qingge can do little else. He opens his eyes.

“Shidi is beautiful. He is strong, too, and brave. He is a good friend. He makes my days brighter.”

Liu Qingge lets out a thin whine and can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed about it.

“This master won’t stop saying truthful things, even if he risks to make shidi feel embarrassed.”

“Not embarrassed.” Liu Qingge swallows.

“Then what is it?”

He wants to tell him. He wants to tell him so much, but he’s weak and terrified, and-

“You’re smart.” Liu Qingge says. “Figure it out.”

[cobrakaisb]

humid summer

summary: summer rolls around, and for the first time in two years you find yourself outside the borders of camp half-blood but how long can you keep pretending to be a normal cruise guest on the princess andromeda?

featuring: BOOK SPOILERS (from here on out), multiple povs (reader, percy, and annabeth), plus more of reader and annabeth’s relationship, oh also angst

word count: 2.7k

series masterlist ||| previous ||| next

the summer heat combined with the florida humidity is stifling. you feel like you’re boiling in a pot of soup, as opposed to lounging on the pool deck of a cruise ship. even the ocean breeze does little to quell the heat. you almost feel bad for the other demigods — who you know are training on a deck somewhere on the princess andromeda — but you can’t bring yourself to that point. not when you, chris, and katrina offered for them to ditch too. 

“how long do you plan on tanning for?” someone asks, and you recognize the voice as your boyfriend’s.

“until the sun goes down,” you answer, holding a hand up to your forehead as you give him a once over. 

it is obvious that he hasn’t been training, not in khaki pants and a light blue polo, but he still has his sword hanging from a sheath around his waist. his arms are crossed over his chest, and he shoots you a disapproving glare. yet, all you can focus on are his muscles.

“you’re gonna get a farmer's tan, dude,” chris jeers, eliciting snickers from you and katrina.

“oh you’d like that wouldn’t you?” katrina teases, elbowing your side as you get up from your lounger and walk towards luke. 

you lift up your shades, pushing them to the top of your head and smile softly at him. you’re trying your best to be apologetic, or at least seem apologetic, but you’re sure it isn’t working. your eyes flicker across luke’s supposedly serious gaze, but you can see the humor swirling in his eyes. 

“you’re not mad are you? we were really just taking a break,” you explain, a soft pout on your lips to try and sell your story. 

luke raises an eyebrow along with the corner of his mouth, and while you know he doesn’t believe you, he doesn’t provide a lecture or try to contradict your words. it’s clear to all the demigods on the princess andromeda that while you’ve aligned yourself with them — with his cause — your loyalties lie in the palm of his hands, a sentiment which isn’t lost on luke either. he has the ability to cradle it or squash it like a bug. there is no inbetween. yet, he continues to push his luck. 

even now as you laugh poolside with chris and katrina with his firm hand resting on your hip, he knows that you’d slip away from him if you knew what was going on in the brig. if you knew who was there and what he’d done to lure them right into his clutches, you’d flee. 

he clears his throat, demanding your attention. only when all three pairs of eyes are on him does he muster up the courage to actually be a leader: “i better see the three of you at training later, otherwise you can kiss those free nights goodbye.”

luke squeezes your hip once more before departing, walking back down the hallway he originally came from.  

*****

the continuous rocking back and forth is starting to get to percy. with each sway of the large cruise ship, he can feel the insides of his stomach turning. the sounds of the waves crashing against the strong hull should be calming, soothing even, yet they only increase his feelings of nausea. 

“don’t tell me you’re seasick, seaweed brain?” annabeth snaps, but there is a hint of sympathy behind her cold words. 

“ugh as if,” he answers, but promptly squints his eyes after a particularly large jolt.

“i knew this was too good to be true,” he mumbles, leaning his sweaty forehead against the cool metal bars in hope of some relief. 

“it wouldn’t be if you’d just accepted my offer. it’d make things a lot easier for the both of us,” another voice chimes in. 

percy opens his eyes, immediately reaching for the ballpoint pen residing in his pocket. he can’t help but stare at the older boy, the person he once called a friend, with nothing but resentment and hatred. luke is leaning casually against the wall across from their holding cell. his arms are crossed, sword sheathed, and he looks like he has all the time in the world. there even seems to be a flicker of annoyance in his brown eyes. 

“we both know things could be much easier. right percy?” luke continues, but he doesn’t make any moves or even reach for his sword. 

“what are you doing here?” percy asks, mustering up enough strength to stand from the floor of their cell. 

luke chuckles, shaking his head back and forth with a small tsk. “c’mon percy, you’re smarter than that. i bet even annabeth has this figured out. isn’t that right banana?” 

“don’t call me that,” annabeth growls, fists clenched at her sides. 

percy watches their interaction, an intense stare down. he’s only even seen luke partake in one, and he remembers how luke was the first to recede. you’re the only person who luke allowed to bully him into getting your way, and annabeth must remember that as well as she turns away from the boy she once called a brother. percy looks at annabeth, asking her a silent question, but she doesn’t even acknowledge him, simply keeping her gaze locked on a questionable stain on the floor. 

“hmm, guess not. makes this even more entertaining,” luke says, stepping away from the wall and towards their cell. 

percy doesn’t hesitate this time, swiftly lifting the cap off his pen with the flick of his thumb. his sword appears in his hands, and he grips the hilt so tightly that his knuckles turn white. 

luke holds his hands up in surrender, “no need for violence, percy. i haven’t even gotten a chance to speak yet.” 

“really? cause you’ve been doing all the talking,” percy snaps, his eyes never leaving luke’s figure as he searches for any impending danger. 

luke chuckles again, but it’s humorless. his eyes turn back to percy lacking any and all warmth. with a clenched jaw, luke looks him up and down. percy feels his breath hitch in his throat; he remembers all too well the last time he fought luke. he also remembers that he has more training under his belt than he did a year ago. 

“i’ll be honest with you percy, because i think we owe that to each other. i know my dad sent you here, hoping you’d convince me to change my mind, but it’s not going to work. we both know that,” luke starts. 

“you, on the other hand, still have time to join me. percy, join us and all will be forgiven,” he finishes, extending his hand to percy. 

percy stares at it, and without a second thought spits at the older boy.

luke grimaces, wiping the saliva on his white linen shirt. “well then.” 

he turns to walk away, leaving the two teens and their cyclops companion behind, but he stops suddenly. his black curls bounce as he whips his head around over his shoulder, brown eyes meeting annabeth’s watery gaze: “i’ve done a lot of things, banana, but associating with a cyclops isn’t one of them.” and then he’s gone. 

*****

the training room is already packed when you and katrina arrive. although a majority of the space is taken up by demigods, you can see some monsters hanging around the outskirts of the crowd. their presence is looming, much like their size, and you nervously adjust the bowstring strapped around your upper body. it feels like it’s choking you, a sensation only amplified by the lump in your throat. try as you might, you can’t seem to swallow it down, and it only worsens as other demigods focus their attention on you. while katrina leads you through the crowd towards chris, their whispers echo in your ears. it’s giving you deja vu. 

you blink, and you’re back at camp half-blood. the dining pavilion is silent as you walk behind luke, weaving in and out of tables to get to cabin eleven’s. they’re trying to be subtle, quiet even, but their voices are much louder than intended. not to mention, all their eyes are on you, making it fairly obvious who their target is. a young girl turns to her friend, whispering something in her ear while making direct eye contact with you. you hear every word. 

“and she gets to skip morning training for a pool day. like how is that fair?” an auburn haired girl whispers not-so-quietly to her friend. 

your gaze snaps towards her, lip curled in a sneer. her blue eyes widen when they meet your anger-filled irises. she takes in a shaky breath followed by a cautious step back. after giving her a once over, you recognize her as holland, a fifteen year old daughter of athena. 

luke’s hand grips your shoulder roughly, pulling you along before the situation can escalate despite your incessant protests that you can handle yourself and this girl. he’s not here to do that this time though.

“remind me again, holland, how many bullseyes you’ve hit? oh that’s right, none because you can’t even keep the arrows in the quiver, much less on target,” you ridicule. 

her eyes gloss over and bottom lip trembles, yet she still manages a comeback: “i’m just confused as to why luke’s girlfriend gets special privileges.” 

the silence in the room is loud. everyone was already eavesdropping, but now it’s blatantly clear; you can hear a pin drop. your nostrils flare at her words, and you straighten your spine. scanning over the crowd of demigods and monsters alike, all their eyes ask the same question: what’s your next move? 

“is that what you all think?” you ask rhetorically. 

“well, let’s put those theories to rest,” you continue, marching to the front of the room. 

silently, and with hundreds of eyes watching, you remove your bow from your shoulders. the quiver filled with a dozen arrows brushes against your right thigh as you remove one. the wooden shaft is light and pliable in your hands; if you weren’t so determined to make holland eat her words it’d probably be snapped in half. you load the arrow, inhaling as you pull back the string. on the exhale, you release; a perfect bullseye. 

“let’s see if i can beat holland’s record,” you taunt, already loading up for your second shot on the second target. 

it’s bullseye after bullseye, and the silence in the room only gets heavier with each shot. finally, you run out of arrows and targets. you turn on your heel, facing the crowd. it’s arrogant, but you bend over into a deep bow with your eyes focused on holland’s blue ones. 

“once you can do that, holland, you can skip morning training too,” and with that, you walk out the door. 

you barely make it three steps before someone stops you. it’s luke; you can tell by the way he holds your bicep, firm yet delicate, and the rough calluses on his palm. you shrug, easily wiggling out of his grasp. his eyes are burning a hole in your head, but you refuse to meet his gaze, keeping yours locked on the vast horizon. 

“what was that?” he asks, voice gruff. 

“your army is getting cocky. someone had to put them in check,” you snap, crossing your arms now. 

he scoffs, stepping beside you with his body turned so that he’s looking at you. he waits patiently for you to acknowledge him, but you don’t. the waves rippling out on the ocean are much more entertaining. 

“maybe they know they’re on the winning side,” he replies, voice oozing confidence. 

you’re silent. 

“and i think you need to remember that too,” he continues, walking away. 

“really? cause it feels a lot like camp. if i wanted to be judged, i would’ve just stayed there. i thought my boyfriend, camp half-blood’s golden boy, would understand,” you say. 

luke freezes, but he doesn’t turn around. “then go back there,” he mumbles, opening the door to the training room. 

you blink, registering his monotone voice and hurtful words. maybe i will, you think.

and yet, you still end up falling asleep next to him that night. whispering apologies to each other in between kisses and tangled limbs. 

*****   

percy promised himself that he would never see the princess andromeda again. turns out promises are meant to be broken. he thinks you might be starting to realize that too. 

“and poisoning thalia’s tree was just the beginning,” luke confirms, standing across from percy. 

sword at the ready, percy waits for luke to make the first move. his eyes flicker over to you, and he’s stunned by your confused expression. it’s clear that luke is the mastermind here, but percy always assumed it was more of a co-parenting situation with heavy emphasis on your involvement in the child’s — luke’s plans to restore the golden age — life. it appears, however, that he was wrong. 

“thwarted again luke. the golden fleece is already on its way back to camp. i guess clarisse can be good for something,” percy taunts, but he’s just buying time.

annabeth already has an iris message queued up, broadcasting his conversation with luke to the entirety of camp half-blood. percy’s sure that he’s never beating those seaweed brain allegations, not when he’s so obviously struggling to bait luke. yet, the older brunette clenches his jaw at percy’s words, anger flashing in his eyes. 

“kronos was right. i should’ve killed you when i had the chance,” luke yells, before going on offense. 

percy throws a quick, albeit sloppy, parry. luke grunts, and percy thinks that playing dodgeball with joe bob and his laistrygonian siblings at meriwether college prep really paid off. for one, it definitely made him stronger. and two, he was able to deal with all the chaos of the party ponies around him, much like he was able to win that final dodgeball game. 

in between percy fighting off luke, and the ponies demolishing anything in their sight, annabeth and grover get cornered. percy can see them, backs literally against a wall, as a hellhound growls in annabeth’s face. it’s not afraid of her dagger, and grover’s pipes aren’t doing anything to help the situation. percy turns, ready to jump in and leave his side quest with luke behind, (he’s sure there will be other opportunities), but he doesn’t need to. 

*****

you know it’s wrong. somebody from kronos’s army should not be protecting the so-called enemy, but you can’t help it. annabeth is the little sister you never had, and even if she doesn’t see you in that light anymore, you refuse to stand by and watch her get hurt. 

you whistle, and the hellhound fixes its beady red eyes on you. it probably expects you to run or cower in fear, but it only takes one swipe of your knife to turn him to golden ash. now, there’s nothing standing between the three of you. 

annabeth steps forward, her gray eyes cold and calculating as she tries to determine your ulterior motive. you never once break her stare, even though your chest is heaving, and you feel like passing out from all the new information you received today. 

“i swear i had no idea,” you say, voice breathless. 

annabeth’s gaze softens slightly, and you only know that because you know her so well. you can’t imagine that she believes you; you wouldn’t believe yourself. yet, there are only three people who have seen your true colors, the person buried underneath the mask of hera’s daughter, and annabeth is one of them. unlike grover, annabeth can detect the hurt in your voice. she sees the disappointment in your eyes, and that proves she can trust you. 

“leave with the ponies. i’ll make sure he doesn’t follow you,” you instruct. 

on her nod, you turn away, heading back into the craziness of the party ponies to stop a red boxing glove from punching out ethan nakamura. she pats grover’s shoulder, leading him towards a less congested area, and waits for their chance to slip out. 

true to your word, luke doesn’t follow them home.

taglist: @percabethlvr @iwantahockeyhimbo@hottiewifeyyyy @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @maraschinocherry3 @used2beeeeee @harrysnovia @cami-is-reading @mxtokko @cxcilla @obxstiles @dracoslovergirl @vanessa-rafesgirl @l1a-pjosversion @vikimontethegirlblogger

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Oh dear sweet god

Why do I do this to myself

This goof has such a chokehold on my heart I just CANNOT

Working on P is for Public of ABC's of Kink, but it's getting split into two. Part one is SFW, part 2 will be very much NSFW. Already working in it and planning to have it up tonight.

And awaaaaay we gooo—

I lied part 3 will be NSFW don't hurt me

Blacksmith's Daughter

Part 1 of 3

Part 2 here

Series: ABC's of Kink

Letter: P is for Public

Wordcount: 2.7k

Tags: SFW, NSFW (part 3 only), fluff, hurt/comfort other stuff maybe

LA!Shanks X AFAB!Reader

Dear gods I loved writing this one

To say you were in a pickle would have been a grievous understatement.

You and a close friend had been caught sneaking around a Marine base after getting the bright idea to break into their treasury vault. For a few years since your father's death you had been down on your luck, and it had seemed a quick ticket to dragging yourself out of the gutter. You had become over that time a particularly skilled thief, and the training you had recieved from your father in blades, not to mention the pair of cutlasses he had smithed for you, didn't hurt your chances.

And you had been forced to give yourself up after your friend was killed while resisting arrest.

Thrown onto a Marine ship bound for Impel Down, locked in the brig with your hands and feet bound in irons. No family, no friends, set to rot for at least the next few years in prison, if not for the rest of your life.

You were fairly certain your situation couldn't possibly get any worse.

The officer guarding the brig was leaning against the desk across from the stairs that led up to the main deck of the ship, polishing his rifle with a rag and gun oil and whistling to himself. He had an easy enough time of it—you were the only prisoner there, and you weren't bothering to give him a hard time. You had been aboard the damnable ship for three days, stiff and sore from your limited range of movement in the heavy shackles clamped around your wrists and ankles, the gravity of your situation weighing heavily on you, and there really wasn't any fight left in you.

Sudden shouting from the deck overhead made him pause and look up the stairs, his brow furrowing under the brim of his cap as you both listened.

"Open fire!"

"Pirates!"

"All hands! Man the guns!"

The officer glanced into your cell, shouldering his rifle as he tossed his rag on the desk and pointed at you.

"Not a peep, wench."

You just leaned back against the wall of the cell with a sigh. "Yup."

So your situation could get worse. Wonderful.

The ship rattled and shook, the cannon fire making your ears ring. Bits of the ceiling fell into the cell around you. You flinched when a hole was blown through the wall of the cell next to your own, the cannon ball rolling across the floor and clanging against the bars. Rather than rotting in prison, you were just flat out going to die.

A fitting end for a miserable few years.

And then all at once, you heard another voice call for ceasefire. The cannon fire stopped first, and slowly the sounds of fighting on the deck above your head fell into relative silence, peppered with animated chatter and laughter.

That could only mean one thing—the Marines had lost.

And your suspicions were confirmed when, a few minutes later, one of the senior cadets on board burst through the doors and sprinted down the stairs into the brig in an outright panic, whimpering, attempting to draw his pistol with shaking hands—but not before he was followed by a broad-shouldered man with a long black ponytail, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, holding a large rifle with one hand and leveling the barrel between the young Marine's eyes.

The pirates had won. You weren't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Oh, don't shoot the kid, Benn, just get him restrained."

You watched another pirate stroll down the stairs and lean into the wall at the edge of them, bright red hair framing his face, a long black cape hanging around one of his shoulders, and a pair of cutlasses slung over his shoulder—your cutlasses. He set them lightly on the desk and patted his crewmate on the shoulder a couple times as he passed.

There was only one man on the Grand Line that matched his description, and even having lived in a town too far inland to have had much experience with pirates, you had heard of him—Red-Haired Shanks, captain of the Red Hair Pirates, who held one of the highest bounties in the world.

"Be quicker to shoot him." Benn shrugged a shoulder. "Or just coldcock him over the head."

"Kid's probably already shit himself." Shanks grabbed a coil of rope from the wall and tossed it across to him. "No use adding injury to insult."

Benn rolled his eyes over toward his captain...and then his gaze flicked back a bit, landing on you as you glanced warily between him and Shanks. Benn gave a nod toward your cell, and your heart went from racing to ceasing entirely when Shanks turned his head and locked his gaze with your own.

He lifted his eyebrows a bit, his dark brown eyes glinting.

"Well, hello there." You swallowed as he approached the cell slowly. He wrapped his hand around one of the bars, leaning forward. Evidently your anxiousness was written all over your face, as he said next, reassuringly, "Don't worry love, we don't bite. Unless you make the idiot decision of opening fire on my ship," he added, raising his voice just a bit and tilting his head to look back at the Marine cadet, who was putting up absolutely no fight over having his hands tied behind his back now.

Shanks directed his gaze back over to you, flashing a charming grin. "So what're ya in for, sweetheart?"

You took a deep breath, and forced yourself to speak. "I—I, er—"

"She snuck into the base in Nanohana and attempted to break into the treasury vault," the cadet chimed in, and flinched as Benn shoved him down to sit against the wall.

He then grabbed the gun-oil rag from the desk and stuffed it in the cadet's mouth.

"Nobody asked you, kid," he said, leaning against the adjacent wall and crossing his arms, his rifle propped up against the wood paneling beside him.

Shank's grin only widened at that. "Did you really?" You nodded shortly, and he chuckled. "God, what a horrible crime," he went on, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Everyone knows the World Government is horrifically impoverished and doesn't have a single Berry to spare." He leaned a bit closer, resting his head against one of the iron bars. "How far did you get?"

"W...we had just gotten the vault open before we were surrounded," you said quietly. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his, as they widened and his eyebrows shot up toward his hairline, completely taken aback.

"Impressive," he said, his eyes passing over you slowly. He bit the corner of his lip thoughtfully, before his eyes returned to yours. "You said we. You have a crew?"

You shook your head. "It was just me and my friend. Well...more like my brother, really." Your eyes dropped to your knees for a moment. "He didn't make it," you said quietly, still not quite able to process it. Your best friend, your only friend, who you had known for twenty-three years, since you were a toddler.

Gone.

When you lifted your eyes back to the red-haired captain, his expression had softened considerably, mouth turned down in a small frown, his amusement replaced with genuine concern. "I'm terribly sorry to hear that, sweetheart," he said gently. He drew in a deep breath, and let it out as a slow sigh, before flipping his cape out of the way and taking a seat on the floor—and you noticed with a bit of shock as the cloak shifted that the left sleeve of his loose white shirt was empty.

He rest his elbow on his knee, leaning his chin into his palm, hand curled over his mouth for a long moment.

"Arabasta is around three days from here," he said finally. "Provided the wind cooperates, and honestly we could do with making port. We'd be more than happy to take you home."

You swallowed, your heart still pounding, still anxious, but for a different reason now. This man, who didn't even know your name, who was gazing at you with a gentle compassion spread across his handsome features that you were entirely unaccustomed to, offering to go out of his way just to get you home—this man had a bounty of over three billion berries?

After a moment, you shook your head. "Wouldn't be much use," you said, shrugging a shoulder. "I don't exactly have a home."

"Any family?" You shook your head—your father's death had been wholly unexpected, and led ultimately to the closing of his smithy, where the two of you and your "brother"—his apprentice—had also lived. Within less than a month you had been on the streets. "Friends?"

His face fell a little more every time you shook your head no. He ran the pad of his index finger over the top of his lips, glancing briefly at Benn.

Back at you, looking at you almost like you were a poor, abandoned puppy he wanted to take home.

He glanced at Benn again, longer this time, until his first mate sighed, straightening out from the wall. "I'll figure out who's got the keys," he said, already starting toward the door.

"Good man."

From the slam you heard, you were fairly sure he kicked the door open at the top, and his voice boomed over the loght chatter on the deck.

"Alright, you assholes. I'm gonna ask one of you who's got the keys to the brig. I don't get an answer in ten seconds, you're getting an extra hole in your head, and I move onto the next guy."

Your eyes widened a little as you looked toward the stairs, moving back over to Shanks as he laughed a little.

"Has a real knack for subtlety, doesn't he?" he said with a crooked grin. He leaned back, planting his hand on the floor behind him. "Seems you have two options, love. You can stay here, with a bunch of tied up Marines who want to take you—where, Impel Down?" You nodded, and he returned the nod. "Or..." He cooked his head slightly to one side, his grin widening a little. "We can break you out of here and you can come with us."

You blinked a few times. "And...go where?" you said slowly.

Her shrugged a shoulder. "Wherever the wind and the waves carry us."

He was asking you to join his crew. You felt your eyes widen a bit, and Shanks laughed softly when he saw his meaning had sunk in.

"I'd choose the latter option, personally," he said. "Never hurts to have another good thief on board."

"You...can't really say I'm a good thief, given..." You glanced down pointedly at the iron shackles around your ankles. "Well, circumstances."

"Ah..." He waved his hand dismissively. "Everyone makes mistakes early in their career. How long have you been thieving?"

"Two years," you said. "Since my father died. Mostly just...pick-pocketing and sneaking money pouches off vendors. This was the first actual break-in."

His eyes widened a bit. "Your first actual break-in," he said slowly, the corner of his mouth curving into a smirk, "was into a Marine base in a major city?"

You shrugged a shoulder, and nodded. He huffed out a sigh, shaking his head.

"Oh, I like you," he said in a low, flirtatious tone, his eyes making a slow pass over you that made your heart speed up and blood rush to your cheeks. "So tell me, princess...." He finally leaned forward again, resting his arm across his knee, and went on with a debonair grin. "Is there a pretty name to go with that pretty face?"

You managed to stammer out your name, your eyes wide as saucers. His smile softened as he shook his head a little, his gaze locked firmly onto yours as he spoke one word softly.

"Beautiful."

You jumped when the door opened, and both of you looked over as Benn descended the stairs, flicking a spent cigarette butt at the Marine cadet still seated in the corner. He tossed a ring of keys over to Shanks.

"Already informed everyone we have a new thief on the crew," he said flatly, tossing a ring of keys over to Shanks.

Shanks swiped them out of the air, grinning. "And how do you know that? I don't recall telling you."

Benn gave him a look equally as flat as his tone.

"Oh, lighten up, you grumpy old bastard," said Shanks jovially, pulling himself to his feet. Your eyes were glued to the keys as he flipped one out and tried it in the cell lock.

It didn't open.

"So what're we doing about this?" said Benn, gesturing broadly. "Caravel full of tied up Marines. Sink her? Just leave her adrift?"

Shanks shrugged. "Might as well just leave it. Take anything that isn't nailed to the floor."

There was a muffled sound of protest in the corner, and both men turned their gaze to the cadet.

Shanks tried the second key, with no success, as the cadet managed to turn his head and tug the cloth out of his mouth with traction from the shoulder of his coat. "Y—you can't just—there's no telling when another Marine ship will come by!"

Shanks snorted. "Or another pirate ship." He flipped to the next key, smirking. "So you'd rather I sink her?"

"W—well, no, but—but we—"

Benn had evidently heard enough. He rolled his eyes as he stooped down to pick up the cloth, and the cadet's jaw snapped shut immediately. Sighing in irritation, he grabbed the kid by his nose and held his nostrils shut until he was forced to open his mouth to take a gasp of air.

And Benn immediately shoved the cloth back into his mouth, and pointed a finger an inch from his nose. "Do it again and it'll be the last thing you ever do. Got it?"

The cadet nodded quickly, his eyes wide circles of terror.

The third key turned, and the lock clicked. You expelled a heavy sigh of relief at the sound. Shanks chuckled lightly as he watched you lean your head back against the damp wall behind you. "No need to worry, love," he said, kneeling down at your feet and flipping to the attached set of smaller keys for the cuffs and shackles. "I can pick a lock when I need to." He freed the first one, leveling his eyes with yours, and a small shiver coursed up your spine as he reached out and brushed a few strands of hair behind your ear, his thumb briefly caressing your flushed cheek. "I'm not letting a few iron bars and chains keep me from you."

"Oh dear god," Benn grumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes, and you almost giggled a little, biting your lip. The guy wasn't wrong, Shanks was laying it on pretty thick.

Though you weren't really complaining.

Shanks glanced back at him as he set to unlocking the second shackle, feigning surprise. "Oh, are you still here?" he said with a sarcastic smirk. He turned his attention back to the irons. "I fear I forgot there was anyone else in the room for a moment."

He glanced up and gave you a little wink before tossing the shackles away, and touched your shoulder lightly to indicate for you to lean forward so he could get to the cuffs wrapped around your wrists.

Benn leveled his eyes with yours, glancing at his captain, and gave a small snort of laughter. "Good luck."

And with that, he headed back up the stairs.

"Oh, don't listen to him, sweetheart."

Shanks chuckled, leaning over you to quickly unlock the shackles, so close you could feel the heat of his body, smell the leathery scent of his cologne mingling with a subtler hint of spiced rum. Your heart raced as he stood back up, dropped the cuffs, and held out his hand, smiling.

You hesitated for the briefest of moments, before placing your hand in his. He pulled you to your feet...and then flush against his chest, grinning as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

"I promise I'm perfectly harmless."