#I thought about like. On the ship and in the cabins in general you always sleep with a buddy at night

[hajihiko]

a family of ex-terrorists splitting their time between living on a ship and living on a deserted island, their complicated polycule structure, and their teenage girl ghost that follows them everywhere

[chuthulhu-plays]

I generally watch LPs of horror games bc I'm too anxious to actually play them but a lot of them have FANTASTIC stories, so sometimes I just binge-watch KrinxTV for background noise. Been watching a lot of playthroughs of Still Wakes The Deep because it's such a delight to hear Scottish voice actors get work and I thought I'd address some questions I keep seeing Let's Players ask:

--Adair is a member of the National Front as you can find out from posters in his cabin, a Neo-Fascist British political party that’s been going since the sixties. While it often preaches British ethnic unity, in practice that often means “everybody in the UK should be exactly like East End Londerners” and features plentiful disdain for Scottish, Irish, and Welsh folk, alongside those perceived as “not British”. No wonder the wanker eats alone in the canteen.

--Neeps and Tatties=turnips and potatoes, mashed, drenched in butter or sauce. Fills your belly, keeps you warm, probably makes you sink like a stone because it’s so heavy.

--Cranachan=a dessert made of raspberries, honey, cream and oats, absolutely delicious

--Rennick calls Caz a “wee ned prick”. Ned is apocryphally said to stand for “non-educated delinquent” and is basically just a way of calling someone an uneducated, lower-class criminal

--A lot of things said by and about Roy indicate that he’s a teetotaller who went through AA and specifically became Catholic and is making an effort at converting Caz.

--I think it’s entertaining how Scottish nicknames often follow a pattern of shortening/rejiggering that I also see a lot with Australian nicknames—Cameron becomes Caz, Rafferty becomes Raffs, etc. Trots is an unusual one but is almost certainly a reference to him being a communist, presumably a Trotskyist. Gibbo is also an unusual one in that it’s just very silly. There’s a kind of indignity implied in being killed by a guy called Gibbo.

--A few times on the radio you hear the Shipping Forecast, a type of weather report aimed at specifically reporting weather conditions out on the ocean, and is also famous for the report being read in such a calm, soothing tone that some folk use it as a sleep aid.

--All the yellow paint for interactable things is very video gamey, yes, but is also in line with old British health and safety standards, and yellow paint on things like emergency ladders or on the edges of stairs that are trip hazards is a thing ou can still see in some older buildings.

--Caz keeps saying he’s “good with the leccy”; leccy=electricity. Caz is implied to be quite a wee guy who can get through a lot of tight spaces, and my uncle swears blind that electricians used to refuse to take on apprentices over a certain size because they only wanted to train wee guys who could get up into the tight spaces that a lot of older buildings are full of. On that note, “wee man” is a term of endearment, generally, and isn’t exclusively applied to short guys.

--Finlay saying of Gibbo that “he’s no right” is INCREDIBLY OMINOUS. It sounds mild but “he’s no right, that boy” is what older folk say about a child who’s been found disembowelling cats for fun or someone they strongly suspect is a pedophile. It’s not something you’d say about a friend who’s just acting a bit unusually.

– “Great minds united over a Buckie”--Buckfast, or Buckie, is a caffienated tonic wine that’s cheap, widely accessible, and is a bit like rocket fuel for bad decisions.

– “Ya roaster” tbh I don’t really know where it comes from, calling someone a roaster, but I’ve always felt like it has a vibe of telling them they’re huffing their own farts.

--Scunnert/scunnered--buggered, screwed, utterly fucked, etc

– “You’re the jammiest bastart on this rig” Someone who is jammy is someone who has incredible luck that is implied to be related to their sheer confidence or willingness to engage in risky behaviour. Walking along the street and finding a pound coin isn’t jammy; crossing the road confident that the cars won’t hit you and stopping in the middle to pick up a pound coin before making it unscathed to the other side is jammy as all hell.

--Barlinnie is the biggest prison in Scotland, and largely hosts violent offenders—it’s where Caz would definitely go for hospitalizing a man.

--Weans are children (contraction of wee yins/wee ones). I thought this one was contextually obvious but apparently not.

SPOILERS BELOW

--”One spark and the whole thing’ll go up”—this is referring to the wee spark of flame in the lighter used to blow up the rig, but is also kind of a pun because electricians are often called sparks or sparkies, and in the end it’s Caz who blows up the rig.

[pallysuune]

Summary: You have been at the Lion's side since he first walked onto Camarth and remembered who he was. Whatever else anyone says about him, you've seen how human he can be, and try to help him in an equally human way.

Pairing: Fem!Reader/Lion El'Jonson

Warnings: spoilers for The Lion: Son of the Forest, I guess. Some good ol' fashioned fluffy smut. No beta we die like fanfic writers.

A/N: I love how different the Lion is in Son of the Forest, how much more mature and respectful he is. I've got a soft spot for the old man. This, uh, may have gotten a little out of hand.

The Protectorate was nearing a state where it would be self sufficient. Where Lion could step away without fear that 'his people' would once more fall to the predation of chaos. It was difficult to tell what he was thinking most of the time, but everyone near him could tell that he was affected by that notion. How he was affected was up to debate, though. His Risen were of the opinion that he was anticipating his return to the Imperium at large, maybe even excited for it in his own way. But you thought there was more to it than that.

Not anxiety, exactly, but something adjacent to it.

While the majority of the Lion Guard would remain in the Protectorate, there was a small number who would be joining him and his sons in their travels. You were one of them. It wasn't much of a surprise, if you were being honest. While you weren't the captain of the Lion Guard, or any other named rank, you served as close to an equerry as he currently had. You'd dare even say you were close to him. Closer than most.

The ship that would carry you all away from the Protectorate wasn't one many would call worthy of a Primarch, but Lion himself had seemed nothing but satisfied with it, thanking the tech priests and engineers who had gotten it in working order with a sincerity that had left them flustered and star struck. It was still, in fact, a little small for someone like him, especially in the private cabins, which was what necessitated him sitting cross-legged on the floor as he currently was.

He'd been sitting there for so long with his eyes closed, you thought he was meditating, or that he'd fallen asleep, when he spoke suddenly.

"You know you don't need to be here all the time."

You fixed him with a flat look, even if he wasn't able to see it currently. "The last time we were on a ship, you took a walk in the middle of the warp and none of us knew what happened to you," you reminded him, in a sharp tone you only dared to use in private.

He opened his eyes and looked up at you. You blushed a little. He didn't intend it, you were pretty sure, but his attention was always so intense that it got to you every time.

The corner of his mouth twitched upward in a faint smile. "My sons were quite upset with me about that," he conceded.

He motioned toward a chair, offering for you to sit, and, in a way, accepting the fact that you were going to be staying there. Triumphantly, you sat down.

Silence fell between the two of you for a moment, before you cleared your throat softly. "Can I ask you something, Lord Lion?" He looked over at you again. For how calm he could be, he still didn't like to be kept waiting, so you went on quickly. "Why did you bring the Lion Guard with you? Not just now, but when you first brought us with you from Camarth. You... don't really need us. Especially now that more of your sons have joined your side. So why...?"

He didn't answer immediately, glancing away instead, his eyes lowering to the floor as he thought about it. "I do need the Lion Guard. I cannot protect these planets alone, nor can I traverse the stars to rejoin my father's imperium alone. Even a Primarch is nothing without people who are willing to trust and follow them."

He looked meaningfully at you.

"In truth, I need you just as much as you needed me. I am still human."

You knew he meant 'you' in a general sense, but your heart still skipped a beat all the same.

His gaze seemed just a little more focused on you, and you suddenly recalled a rumor you had heard once that he could hear so well he could even hear a person's pulse. Was it true? Could he hear how yours was suddenly fluttering in your chest?

"Don't you ever get tired, sir?"

He arched a brow at you. "I slept for ten thousand years," he said, his voice so dry you couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

"That isn't what I meant," you huffed, flustered.

His expression softened ever so slightly. "I do. But there is too much to do to give in to it."

You hesitated again, looking at him. Your heart was beating so fast, you were almost sure it would break out of your rib cage and fly away. "Would you... permit me to help you with that?"

His expression closed off, becoming more guarded, and for a moment, he just looked at you. And then, slowly, he nodded.

You took a deep breath and rose from your seat. After one last second of hesitation - you could stop this before it started, your brain said, pretend it never happened, and go back to serving him as normal - before you slipped into his lap, sitting lightly on his thighs. This close, you could so clearly see the lines at the corner of his eyes, the silver in his blond hair and beard. He didn't move in the slightest, and his eyes never left yours. Slowly, you reached up, fingertips brushing his cheek, before you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

He didn't respond immediately, but after a moment, he wrapped his arms around you. He was gentle, almost achingly, as if he was afraid of hurting you. His broad, warm form enveloped you. He kissed you back, slowly, and you could practically feel the tension release in his shoulders as he let himself let go and accept the affection and comfort you were giving him. His fingers slid into your hair, his hand cradling the back of your head.

You had seen the Lion fight before. To think that the same hands you had seen kill daemons with such ease could be so gentle when touching you made your heart ache.

The kiss grew deeper, his tongue slipping past your lips, sweeping into your mouth and gliding over yours. You moaned softly.

He smoothed one large hand down the curve of your back, letting it settle low, where the edge of your shirt had ridden up ever so slightly. He slid one calloused finger beneath, drawing over your skin. "Do you wish to continue?"

You realized it was a genuine question. He would not stop you or blame you if you didn't wish to go any further. That, just as much as the warmth of his body and the way he had responded to your kiss, urged you on.

"I do."

The Lion kissed you again softly, beginning to pull your shirt up. He's wearing a shirt that buttons down the front, something made for him on Avalus to wear when he's not in his armor. You fumble with the buttons, fingers slipping on them in your eager haste. You felt the quirk of his lips in a smirk of amusement, and felt heat rise to your cheeks. When he pulls away to draw your shirt over your head, you take the opportunity to undo the buttons since you could see them. You pushed his shirt back off his shoulders.

He was a broad man, muscular and strong, his skin pale, with the ghosts of freckles dusting his shoulders, waiting for the kiss of the sun to bring them out. Scars mark his body, a long with the metal ports where his armor interfaced with his body. It was strange how different it was and yet how recognizably human. You ran your hand down his chest, marveling at him.

He said nothing, watching you silently as you looked over his upper body. When you glanced up, you met his his eyes. That intense forest green gaze. You flushed.

He leaned in and kissed you again.

Lion lifted you with ease, making quick work of the rest of your clothes before removing his own. Naked, he drew you back into his lap. Your breath hitched at the feeling of skin against skin, his cock resting against your sex. His hands roamed over your body as he held you close and kissed you, in utterly no hurry. He trailed kisses down your neck and over your shoulder. He lavished your body with kisses and touches until you were squirming in his lap, panting softly.

It was only then that he laid you back onto the floor, shifting over you. One large hand guided your leg around his waist. His lips pressed softly to your breast. His beard scratched your skin lightly. His mouth was hot as he took your nipple into it to suck lightly on it. His fingers brushed along your folds. Heat and pleasure rushed through you. You were slick and hot under his hand as he circled your clit and pressed a finger into you.

You whimpered softly, your hips arching up into the movement of his hand.

"Patience," he murmured against your chest.

You wasn't sure how he could expect you to be patient when he was slowly fucking you with one thick finger. But you bit your lip, trying to keep from squirming too much.

"Good girl."

His voice alone was enough to make you whine again.

Lion took his time, patient and thorough, fingering you and playing with your clit until you were practically dripping for him, your arousal slickening your thighs. You were nearly delirious with need when he drew back, slipping his finger from you. He raised it to his mouth, and you watched through lidded eyes as he sucked your essence from his fingers.

"A man could lose himself between your thighs," he rumbled, green eyes locked with yours.

"Lion," you breathed.

He pursed his lips, and you were sure it was to hide a smile, and leaned back down over you. He guided your legs around his waist again. You felt the press of his length against your slit. Slowly, he rolled his hips forward, pressing into you, stretching you, filling you. Your back arched, your hips rocking up to meet his. A long, low moan slipped from your lips.

He groaned softly before his lips met yours. He kissed you deeply. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers threading in his hair. He was the only thing that existed to you in that moment. You clung to him, grounding yourself in the strength of his body. And you let yourself get lost in the push and pull of your bodies, in the pleasure that seared through your veins. Nothing else mattered.

He began to move faster, chasing the high both of you so desperately needed. His fingers found your clit once more and you keened, pushed over the edge. Your pussy tightened around him, your juices dripping down your thighs as he continued to fuck you through your release. Everything was a haze of sensation, highlighted with the sound of deep, masculine groans in your ear, as your body began to tread that line between pleasure and pain, too much and not enough. You trembled in his arm. He continued fucking you.

He bucked into you and stopped, filling you completely. You could feel the throb of his manhood in you as he pumped you full of his seed.

For a moment, you both remained like that, twined together. You were panting. He was breathing a little hard, too, his face pressed into the crook of your neck. He pressed a kiss there before finally pulling himself up.

You expected him to pull away, get dressed, and return to his meditation. Instead, he drew you close to him again, back into his lap as he shifted to lean back against the wall. He took his shirt and draped it over you. You hadn't anticipated cuddling but, well, you certainly going to turn down the opportunity. You let yourself lay across his chest as his arms came to settle around you again.

Lion didn't speak. But as you began to fall asleep, you could have sworn you felt the touch of his cheek against the top of your head.

[lostfirefly]

I will lay it at your feet, and I won't hold back anything, 'cause what you are is all, what you are is all of me

I dedicate this fic to everyone! But this is also my little gift to my manager @gingernut1314 :) She reblogs every chapter of my story with Buggy and OC and supports my crazy ideas in writing fanfiction! English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Buggy and Fem.Reader (also fits for GN reader) - Masterlist is here.

Description: You haven't seen Buggy for several days, he's throwing you a candlelit dinner. Fluffy fluff!

WC: 1619

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots

The title is taken from “All of Me” by Ashes Remain.

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You hardly saw Buggy for several days. About the fact that he generally appears in your shared cabin, you understood when in the middle of the night his tired body fell onto the bed, the mattress sagged under his weight, and you instantly rolled into his arms. In the morning, you woke up, but saw only an empty bed and his scattered things. 

“Someday he’ll learn to put his socks away,” you mumbled, standing in your pajamas in the middle of your shared bedroom, looking around the floor. “At least it’s clear that he was here.” You chuckled, picking up your socks and tossing them on the chair.

You went into the kitchen to pour yourself some coffee and sat down at the table. Suddenly, Mohji rushed into the kitchen to get a basket of apples for Richie.

“Hey, Mohji! Stop!” You called out to him. He stopped abruptly, and several apples fell out of the basket.

“Yes, Y/N.” He asked, picking up apples from the floor.

“Have you seen Buggy today? I’ve hardly seen him for four days. I understand he’s busy with his captain’s things, but I don’t even see him in the kitchen. Or hanging upside down somewhere in the mast area.” You giggled, imagining this picture, and took a sip of coffee.

Mohji, finally collected all the apples, tightly clutching the basket, came up to you. “I didn't see him.” He winked.

"What was that?" You asked, narrowing one eye. "You winked. Do you know where he is? Have you seen him?"

“I didn't wink. And I don't know where he is.” He winked again.

“There! You did it again! Do you know where he is? Tell me. I won't tell him it was you. I just.. I don't know. I miss him.” You became sad and began to twirl the cup in your hands.

From the moment you fell in love with Captain Buggy and stayed with him on the ship, you and Mohji became very close friends and sometimes spent time chatting. You told him how to communicate with girls, he helped you make friends with Richie.

“Sorry, Y/N, I don’t know where he is.” He winked again.

“Oh, go to hell! I hope Richie eats you this morning.” You waved your hand at Mohji.

But still? Where's Buggy? Maybe while you're waiting for him, he's hugging one of the girls on his team right now. No, no. He can't do that. You decided to wait for him tonight at all costs.

In the evening, while the team was having dinner, Captain Buggy did not appear again. You were about to open a bottle of wine, but suddenly grabbed it in your hands and walked along the deck.

“Fuck this! I’ll find him and tell him everything.” You muttered under your breath. As you walked past his office cabin, you noticed Buggy's shadow. “Gotcha!” You looked out the small window. You raised your hand to knock, but Mohji stopped you.

“You can't go there!” He said in a half whisper.

“Why?” You asked in surprise. “Does he have someone there? God, does he have someone there?” You felt like your head was spinning

“Don’t talk nonsense, Y/N, since you appeared in his life, he has no one. And you know it very well!” He hissed at you.

“What's all the noise here?” A deep voice was heard next to your ear. You and Mohji slowly turned your heads. Buggy's head was sticking out from behind the slightly open door.

“I.. I’m sorry, Captain! It’s Y/N’s fault!” Mohji lowered his head in shame and pointed his finger at you.

“Bastard!” You muttered through your teeth. 

Buggy left the cabinet and closed the door behind him. “Get out!!” He barked at Mohji and he quickly disappeared.

“Well, Y/N.” Buggy crossed his arms. “What's all the commotion? Is someone attacking us?” He asked rather dryly.

“What? No! I just.. Just. I haven’t seen you for several days. I miss you. See, I even brought wine with me. Let's consider this an apology gift.” You raised the bottle higher and smiled.

“You could have waited another hour and not started a race all over the ship.” Buggy smiled back, cracked the door to the cabin, looked in and closed it again. “Alright, okay. What difference does it make... Everything is ready. Close your eyes.”

You looked at him with round eyes. “What?”

“Oh my God, Y/N, my marshmallow, close your eyes. Is that too much to ask?” He growled. 

“OK.” You shrugged and closed your eyes.

“And so that you don't peep.” Buggy stood up behind you and covered your eyes with his palm.  “Let's go. Carefully. Step one. Step two. Step one. Step two. See, we're almost dancing.”

“Yeah, but where are we dancing? You'll feed me to the sharks for my curiosity, right?” You put your hand on his hand.

“What? Of course not! If I feed you to the sharks, who will I warm at night?” Buggy carefully led you somewhere and removed his hand from your eyes. “Now, my marshmallow, you can open your eyes!”

You opened one eye, then the other. “What is this?”

In the middle of the cabin, in the twilight, there was a round table covered with a red and white striped tablecloth. Candles, wine, snacks and two chairs.

“This? This's the table.” Buggy answered calmly and shrugged, not understanding your question.

“I understand that this is the table, Buggy. But that’s all. What's this?” You pointed your finger at snacks and wine. 

“Oh! I was preparing a surprise for you. For several days in a row, I sent someone from the crew to the nearest island to buy all the ingredients for your favorite dishes, and then made Cabaji cook it all.” Buggy put his hand on your back and gently walked you to the chair. “Sit down.” He pulled out the chair and helped you sit down.

“Really? Did you make Cabaji cook?” You started laughing, placing the bottle of wine on the table.

“I’m the captain of this ship, Y/N. I can force whoever I want to cook. I walk where I want, I order what I want. And now I order you to enjoy the evening.” Buggy took the wine you brought and easily opened the bottle, pouring the drink into your glass. “We drink to you, my marshmallow!”

“To me?” You were surprised, making yourself more comfortable in your chair. “Why?”

He blushed under all his clown makeup. “Well... You came into my life by chance…”

“Yeah, crashing into you with a bike was weird.” You took a sip of wine and crossed your legs.

“Hey! Not only did you crash, you also wanted to steal my money! No one dares steal from Buggy the Clown.”

“I wasn’t trying to steal. My hand just slipped under your coat, Buggy.” You shrugged one shoulder and narrowed your eyes.

“Liar!” He put some snacks for you. “So. I'm glad you came into my life.” Buggy blushed with every word he uttered and was already becoming like a beetroot.

You finished your wine and set the empty glass on the table, Buggy moved it toward you to refill it. “So, Captain. You cooked all this for me? Why didn't you just say so? I was honestly starting to think that you were... Well, uh... Cheated on me with someone.”

He froze and spilled wine on the tablecloth. “What?” He asked in surprise. “What did you think?”

“Buggy, the table! You spilled the wine.” You grabbed the napkins and quickly wiped up the drink residue.

“Fuck the table and fuck the wine. How could you even think that?” He froze with the bottle in his hand.

“I don't know. I'm with your team and on your ship not too long ago. How long? A month? So I was wondering.... I'm sorry.” You started running your finger across the table.

"A month and four days." He muttered quietly.

"What? Are you counting?" You asked in surprise.

“No. My memory's good.” Buggy blushed even more under his makeup and set the bottle on the table. “But Y/N, my marshmallow.” He took your hand and pulled you into his lap. “You have nothing to worry about.”

You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck. Buggy immediately put his arms around your waist. 

“I actually...this whole dinner thing. Well. I did. To say. Well. I love you.” He looked into your eyes. 

You froze for a second, feeling a slight chill run through your entire body. “You what?” You asked, starting to stroke his bandana.

“Damn. It's early, right? I said it too soon. I knew it. That's it, forget it. I don't love you. I was joking. I'm the clown. Clowns always make jokes.” Buggy became nervous. 

“What? No!” You kissed his red nose. “I just didn't expect that I wasn't the only one. You know… Who has feelings.” You said, looking intently into his green eyes.

He looked at you blankly.

“For those who don’t understand, Buggy the Clown. I love you too. Since I saw you for the first time. A fucking pot-bellied naked kid named Cupid hit my heart with a blue arrow.” You giggled and took his bandana off. “Here, it’s much better with your hair down.”

“So, we both love each other, right?” He asked, looking into your eyes and stroking your arm.

“Well, it turns out like this.” You shrugged and slowly brought your lips closer to his.

“Say it again.” He whispered against your lips.

You smashed your lips to his the moment he stopped talking. “I.” Kiss. “Love.” Kiss. “You.” You kissed him again.

[wordy-little-witch]

•°♤°• Ghost Roger and Rouge are just so cute especially with their grand babies!

What about Rayleigh tho?

Im sure Rayleigh would, at one point meet the seraphim. One time would be accidently because he was visiting Karai Bari to go see Buggy but then runs into two little seraphim. Then all chaos descends when he hears the words "Ma/Pa". Bet Ghost Roger is laughing his ass off.

Tbh, I love the the pairing of Rogue/Roger, but really love the pairing of Rogue/Rayleigh/Roger (What are your thoughts on it? I won't attack you if you say you do not ship it, I just want to know your personal opinion on it 👀)

So honestly?? Depends. I have... mixed feelings on Rayleigh? I love him and also kinda don't at the same time. I think it's a ME issue though and not a character issue lmao ((He reminds me of my sister for some reason and that's.. a can of worms I'm not gonna open rn))

As for Roger/Rouge/Rayleigh - I think that's!! So!! Cute!!!!!! For the ghost AU the general idea is that Rouge never met the cabin boys initially before death, but I also like the idea of the polycule and Rouge being a staple of their lives. I dunno really. Cute ship!!!!!

As for grandpa Rayleigh-

I think him visiting Karai Bari would be really mixed by way of responses. On the one hand, That's One Of Buggy's Dads. On the other.... that's one of the people that abandoned Buggy when he needed them most. I think the initial meet would probably be ripe with tears, screaming, demands for him to get lost, while Rayleigh is trying so hard to damage control with a lackadaisical smile and flippant ease.

And that would of course be prime real estate for Birdie, Angel and Atlas to inject themselves into the exchange. Mama Bug cries a lot but these are Bad Tears and Nobody Makes Mama Bug Sad Like That.

While Angel and Birdie are sort of the front line of cutting in, Atlas I think would kind of glue himself to Buggy - both to comfort him and to get comfort due to the echoes of genetic memory. And when the older seraphim realize Buggy AND Atlas are upset, ooooh it's on like Donkey Kong.

The initial meeting is.... less than stellar lmao.

I think once tempers cool, discussions are had and boundaries are established, Rayleigh would be a pretty good grandpa. He's like the Cool Jiji, sneaking snacks and spoiling the kids but also letting them explore the world. It's rocky since Rayleigh's pretty lenient on rules, but once the structure is given, it's overall pretty good.

((Bonus points, Roger and Rouge spend the whole time with Rayleigh when he's with the kids - initially bc they're nervous about it, then bc it's just.... it's bittersweet. This could have been them. It's as close as they'll get now.))

((Extra bonus, Rayleigh often forgets how Strange Buggy's Haki is - Atlas reminds him frequently. And when the other boys respond to the same things, he's curious. He asks. He's.... oh. Oh man. What????

Perona brings out the board. Croc and Hawk take the kids. Buggy sits across from Rayleigh, and Roger and Rouge sit on either side of their living lover.

Rayleigh cries.))

((I think all in all, Buggy would really struggle with it. Rayleigh has changed so much, and he's good with the kids, he really is! But he wasn't always good with kids in general. He's a better grandfather than he ever was a dad, and it hurts. He confesses this to Mihawk and Crocodile one night, or maybe to Shanks over a denden, and he sort of breaks. If Rayleigh was always capable of change, then that just means that Buggy was never a big enough priority for him TO change. And that's the crux of it all, isn't it? Buggy's never as important to others as they are to him. He's a side character in the bigger picture and it aches, it throbs, it burns. He's so happy their kids are happy and loved and safe, because Buggy wants to give them the world and make sure they never hurt like this, but he's almost jealous and he hates himself for it.

It takes some time for him to heal, for him to forgive himself for it. He loves so much, too much, and sometimes the love sits there and rots within, infects his lungs and veins. He's not perfect, he not even okay, but he does his best and he's not alone anymore. He's making improvements, slowly but surely, and accepting the past, while agonizing, is possible. He's got support now in places he never anticipated having it. And he's got people who need him to be there, who need him to be better, who just... need him. It's jarring. It's dizzying. It's overwhelming. It's empowering.

Buggy may be broken, but he'll turn his jagged shards into knives, his chips into jewels to wear proudly to defend the ones he loves. He's a coward but he's a fighter - he's a god damned pirate, and he'll force the world to remember that.))

[thefrogdalorian]

Dincember Day 6: Gifts

Word Count: 2050 Rating: General Summary: It's Life Day and time for you and Din exchange gifts. You love sharing in the joy of seeing others surprised with your gifts, but nothing surprises you more than the incredibly thoughtful gift Din gives to you. Content Warnings: Tiny little mention of grieving parents but other than that, fluff! Author's note: This was just so soft and I once again made myself emo... need to hug Din Djarin like rn IT'S SICK.

You had explained to Din that swapping gifts was a Life Day tradition that you enjoyed and, while you obviously enjoyed receiving presents, giving gifts to others brought you the most joy. You wanted Din to know that he did not have to get you anything flashy or expensive as you had everything you had ever dreamed about in him and Grogu, plus the little cabin you shared on Nevarro. You knew how generous Din could be, how he always made sure that you wanted for nothing. A life with him meant you had everything you needed. Plus, whenever the two of you enjoyed a trip together, Din always ensured that you stayed in the most luxurious lodgings available.

But Din was not exactly an easy person to buy presents for. You really wanted to spoil him, but what could you buy the man who always wore the same thing? Who had a perfectly functional ship, a well furnished cabin and who had a dizzying array of weapons already? You knew the best way to spoil Din was to buy gifts for Grogu, so while you pondered what you would buy for your incredible Mandalorian partner, that was exactly what you did. You had only meant to visit the market to buy Grogu a Loth-cat plush from a familiar vendor on Nevarro. You came away with several plushies, some new clothes and plenty of traditional candies that would be eaten at this time of year. You knew the way to Grogu's heart was through food and he would make short work of the sweet treats.

You felt somewhat guilty that ideas for what to buy Din were not coming easily to you. You loved buying gifts for others, loved the look on their faces and their excitable reactions to the surprise of the gift, which to you, of course, was no surprise at all. But there was one thing that you knew Din desperately needed, something that would make your nights more tolerable if your gift stopped him complaining about the temperature of his feet.

So, with that in mind, you ventured to the latest market on Nevarro, to head for the vendor you knew would stock exactly what you needed. You were shopping for his gifts in plenty of time, which was fortunate, because while you were shopping for one part of his present at the tailor, an idea struck you.

"If I gave you the name of a planet, would you be able to source traditional garments from there?" You asked curiously, admiring the enormous variety of materials the elderly woman stocked.

"No promises," She said, flashing you a gap-toothed grin, "But I will endeavour to do my best."

You were grateful that you had been so organised shopping for Din's gifts as to leave enough time for the vendor to attempt to source the materials from the planet you knew would hold enormous sentimentality for Din. You headed back to your cabin with your heart soaring as you imagined Din’s reaction to the gifts you would exchange with him.

The big day arrived, and you were practically bursting with excitement to finally give Din and Grogu the gifts that you had sourced for them. You were equally excited to see what Din had in store for you. You were sure whatever it was, that it would be incredibly thoughtful. Although Din did not have the years of experience in exchanging presents with loved ones as you did, you knew that he confronted everything in his life with nothing less than one hundred per cent enthusiasm, especially when it came to his loved ones.

The first order of business was naturally to give Grogu his gifts. You knew scant details about his life before Din, as Din himself did. But what you did know had broken your heart, the little guy had been through so much loss and fear over his life. So, you did not feel too bad if you were spoiling him just a little bit.

With Grogu happily occupied by the new plushies and making headway into the festive candy you had bought for him – you thought that you had bought enough that it might actually take him several hours to gobble it all up, but it seemed that the treats would not see the light of day for too much longer – you couldn’t wait any longer to give Din the gifts that you had bought for him.

“Okay, so, the first gift I bought you is something I believe you really need because I’m constantly having to hear you complain about it at night.” You babbled excitedly, always eager to explain the gifts that you had bought for the recipients to them, whether they wanted to hear it or not.

“Alright…” Din said cautiously, as he accepted the neatly wrapped package that you handed to him from your position on the floor, where you had just helped Grogu unwrap his presents. 

You squealed with delight as Din began to unwrap your present, excited to see his reaction. When he had finally torn through the shimmering paper, he lifted the woolly garments off his lap and held them in the air, regarding them curiously. 

“Socks?” Din said, raising an eyebrow curiously. 

“They’re made from Tauntaun fur! I bought them from a vendor at the market,” You explained enthusiastically. “I know you’re always complaining about having cold feet at night, so this will take care of that.”

“Thank you cyare, that’s very thoughtful of you,” Din said, appreciatively, as he felt the warmth of the fur by placing his hand in the socks. 

“You’re welcome,” You smiled as you handed Din the next parcel. “This is your main present. It took some time for me to arrange this, and I'm not entirely sure that it is authentic, but the vendor assured me she did her best."

You waited with bated breath, as Din unwrapped the paper and pulled out the cloth. You knew instantly, from his reaction, that he recognised the distinctive red material.

“How did you get this?” Din said quietly, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I… I haven’t seen this shade for so many years.”

“I asked the same vendor at the market that I bought your socks from, whether she could source rare materials for me. I gave her the name of your home planet, she said to leave it with her.” You nodded. “I picked it up a few days ago. I hope you like it.”

“It’s Aq Vetina Carmine… right here before my eyes. Cyare, I don’t…” Din shut his eyes again, clearly fighting hard against his emotions. “I don’t know what to say, other than thank you.” 

“You can do whatever you’d like with it. I was thinking perhaps of a new cape, considering how your current one has certainly seen better days. Or some other clothes, or a blanket…” You trailed off quietly. “Really, whatever you like.” Your enthusiastic babbling seemed inappropriate once you had realised how emotional your present had made Din.

“Thank you,” Din said quietly. He sat there and cradled the fabric between his fingers, no doubt thinking of his much-missed parents and home world. Din a few moments to compose himself. You glanced over to Grogu, who had taken a pause from his assault on the sugary treats to look at his father with concerned big, brown eyes. 

You sat there silently for a few more moments, fearing that perhaps you had slightly soured the mood by giving Din such an emotional gift on a day that was meant to be filled with joy. But then Din shook his head, regained his composure and placed the fabric carefully on the arm of the couch. 

“My turn,” Din smiled, a genuine smile that reached his eyes. You knew that your present had deeply moved him. But you also knew that the excitement to give you whatever it was he had for your present had overridden any upsetting emotions that the gift of Aq Vetina Carmine had provoked in him.

“I can’t wait,” You smiled, leaning forward on your knees in anticipation.

“This is something that I’ve been meaning to give you for a while now,” Din said quietly. If you weren’t mistaken, there was a sudden shyness that had come over him. You wondered what could possibly be inside the little pouch that he had just pulled out of his pocket. “It may not look like much, but it has a deep meaning in Mandalorian culture.”

The cloth of the pouch was soft in your palm. Inside, you could feel a small, hard weight. It did not feel particularly heavy and you wondered why such a small thing could be making Din so visibly anxious. You took a deep breath, as you pulled on the strings of the cloth pouch with trembling fingers. You reached your thumb and forefinger inside and felt the cool metal, which appeared to be of a similar composure as the Beskar which Din’s armour was made out of.

You pulled the mystery object out of the cloth pouch, but what greeted you did not answer any of your questions. It was a metallic shape, it looked to be a skull of some kind with two tusks protruding from it. There was a thin, black leather strap that the pendant was attached to. The craftsmanship on it was stunning. Whatever it was, it looked beautiful.

You looked at Din, with curious eyes, visibly confused about the meaning behind his gift. “It’s gorgeous Din, what is it?” You asked, curiously.

“It’s a Mythosaur, the sacred, ancient symbol that belongs to all Mandalorians,” Din said, gesturing towards the pendant that you still clutched tightly in your fingers. “It’s made out of Beskar, the same steel that my armour is forged from.”

“It’s stunning, Din,” You breathed, deeply touched that he was sharing a part of the traditions of his people with you, an outsider. 

“And when given to another…” Din shut his eyes and took a deep breath, clearly attempting to steady his nerves before he completed what he needed to tell you. “It means, if you’d like to be, you would be a part of my Clan, alongside Grogu. Wherever you are in the galaxy, even if we are no longer together, even if I’m… no longer alive, you can show that necklace to any Mandalorian, any covert and give them my name. You will always have protection and a safe place to go.”

“Oh Din,” You whispered shakily as tears began to stream down your cheeks. You pushed yourself up from the floor where you sat and sat on the couch next to him, throwing your arms around his neck. “I love you, so so much.”

“I love you too, cyare,” Din said into your hair, as he buried his face into the side of your neck.

You could barely speak, the gesture had left you feeling so emotional. Not just the thought of Din no longer being around, but the fact that he cared for you so deeply that he wanted you to be a part of his Clan. Din had introduced you to some Mandalorian customs throughout your relationship, sharing the way of life that was such an important part of the man that he was, but it had never been anything as deep, nor as profound, as the gift of the Mythosaur necklace. 

“Thank you,” You said, pulling back from the embrace and cupping his stubbly chin with your hand gently, “It’s the most meaningful gift I’ve ever received. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you.”

“I could say the same about you,” Din said, as he brought his plush, warm lips to yours for a gentle kiss. 

“Beats socks, too,” You said, giggling, as Grogu leapt onto Din’s lap, clearly feeling abandoned on the floor.

“Nonsense, never having to worry about cold feet ever again is a win in my eyes,” Din said, his brown eyes shining from the multicoloured lights that still twinkled in the main room of the cabin. 

You stayed there, cuddled up warm with the two Mandalorians who had just officially become your Clan, grateful for having such an incredible man in your life, your heart full from exchanging such sentimental gifts.

[thefuzzzz]

Ranking Nico Di Angelo ships as a multishipper with a crazy imagination, a Nico hyperfixation of 3 years, and the willpower of a god:

1. Solangelo - 8/10 I love them!! I adore Will in TSATS and he’s easily one of my favorite characters. I wish Rick had let us get to know Will separately before he was immediately made Nico’s boyfriend, but I love him anyway. I think they’re good for each other and very supportive. I think I spend too much time consuming media of them than their actual book interactions, because in media I hate their fanon portrayals, but I adore them in cannon. I only had the chance to read half of TSATS, but I thought it was cute!

2. Jasico - 10/10 I love them for the same reasons I love Solangelo, but Jason got character development and Will didn’t. Also, they had a cool moment with Cupid that I think about once a week at least. Jason is constantly someone Nico trusts and (I may be wrong) hugs at some point in the series. The only people Nico has shown direct physical affection to within the series (to my knowledge) are Will, Jason, Hazel, and Reyna. This proves how much Nico trusts Jason, even after Cupid. Also they’re silly and dumb and I love them so I’m right always

3. Nico x Conner - 10/10 I FUCKING LOVE THEM SO MUCH. Lemme explain. So when Nico came to camp he stayed with the Hermes cabin, but Luke was already fucked off (I think) so Conner and Travis were probably in charge of the cabin. Conner’s age changes several times, so I headcannon him to be just a tad older than Nico. I think since he knew Nico when he was a kid he can make present day Nico less doom and gloom and know when he’s truly happy. Also, Nico went to a notably strict military school before coming to camp, yk what they say, strict conditions raise sneaky kids. Thats right, these two are fucking nuts. They are little thieves. And I don’t even wanna mention the implications of Conner’s dad (Lin Manuel Miranda) being the god of travelers and Nico essentially being an eternal traveller. They make me so sick I love them

4. Nico x Clovis - 7/10 they were mentioned as friends MAYBE once and I took that shit and ran with it tbh. I don’t even remember if it’s cannon. I just love them. I THINK it was mentioned that Clovis helps Nico with his nightmares, but atp this shit might just be my imagination or a fic I read once. Anyways, Nico is noted as a very anxious person, and Clovis is very laid back. I really like that duo and the idea that Clovis can help to ground him a lot and help him relax

5. Valdengelo - 6/10 while I do adore them, they have hardly any time together or any bonding moments at all (Note: I am a hypocrite over Clovis let’s fight abt it) I do love media about them and consume it at rates not comprehendible by mankind though. Aside from no time together, I think they’re epic. Nico experiences a lot of the same things as Leo, such as losing his mother and general sadness, but they cope in wildly different ways (neither of which are healthy). Also, Nico grew up in the lotus casino. I’m sick of us all acting like he doesn’t understand technology. Let them be engineer boyfriends PLEASE

6. Pernico. - 0/10 I don’t care at all if other people ship them, since it’s fandom and you can do whatever you want. I just personally don’t enjoy their chemistry and see them more as brothers. You do you tho.

Keep in mind this is just my opinion please don’t take anything too personal!! I love all ships (almost.) equally and if you have any fic recommendations for any of these please give them to me I’m desperate

(Also, this doesn’t represent my FAVORITE Nico ship, just a ranking based on how much I giggle when I see them. It does not take many logistics into account)

[cc--2224]

Comfort

Pairing: Tech x Reader

Summary: You planned the perfect Life Day trip for yourself and Tech, positive that everything will go perfectly. When it doesn't, Tech is able to cheer you up and comfort you.

Warnings: Perhaps a touch of angst but it's generally all fluff

Notes: This was written for the Life Day Fic exchange @cloneficgiftexchange for @clone-anon HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!

Prompts: I tried to use them all as best as I could but as requested - first life day together || stuck in a storm and forehead kisses || "wait, please don't go" || one bed trope next morning with "is it weird I'm comfortable"

Word Count: ~1.9k

Read on AO3 Here

Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added!

Masterlist

You always loved to celebrate the holidays with your friends and loved ones and knowing that this would be your first Life Day with Tech made you even more excited. You had a tendency to go a little overboard with preparations, but one of the first things Tech noticed about you was how much fun you had making plans; whether it was briefing before a mission, or even something as small as going to the best markets for supplies and rations. He began to love how much thought you’d put into everything you did.

But when you approached him about spending the holidays together, he was a little apprehensive. He and his brothers had never done anything for Life Day, it wasn't something the Kaminoans ever observed, and during the war it was the last thing on anyone’s mind, so he wasn't sure exactly what he was supposed to do. He relaxed when you had told him that you would handle everything, and eventually agreed.

The first thing you decided on was renting out a small cabin. You decided on a room with two beds, making sure there would be plenty of room for both of you to be comfortable. You hadn't been together very long, there was the occasional hug or kiss on the cheek, but you hadn't quite been able to broach the topic of cuddling with a man who was very protective over his space, so for a first Life Day, this was a better option.

The activities were next. You always loved spending the day before Life Day venturing out and looking at the decorations people had. Festive string lights, standees or statues of Wookiees in red robes, holiday candies, you loved when people went all out, and you always enjoyed being able to share that with the people you love. Even if it was cold, snow was always welcome, a gentle snowfall always made this time extra special. And then when you'd get home after seeing all the beautiful decorations, you'd always put on a holofilm to enjoy with your loved ones as a relaxing way to end the day.

You also made sure that, while it wasn't necessary, you had a gift for Tech. It was difficult to shop for him, but you knew it was worth it. The market stalls you visited didn't seem to have much that really stood out, not for Tech anyway. You wanted his gift to be special. He seemed like the type of person who, if you were to ask what to get him, he would list things he needed to make repairs to the Marauder, and while you'd happily buy them for him if that's what he truly wanted, it didn't seem like a good enough gift. He deserved something to use for himself rather than to use to work on the ship. You had soon passed by a shop with some newer devices, including a datapad that had just become commercially available. You knew Tech had always been fiddling with his, and you'd heard him complain about it more than once, so in your indecision of what to get him, you decided to at least start there. It seemed easier to buy something for the others than it was for Tech; a Loth cat stuffy for Wrecker, a new knife for Hunter, and a seemingly endless box of toothpicks for Crosshair.

But, with all of that out of the way, you could really focus on finalizing your plans for your time with Tech, and when Life Day finally rolled around, you felt completely prepared for it, and your excitement was palpable. Even Tech seemed excited, though you weren't sure how much of it was excitement rather than curiosity.

The morning of your reservation at the cabin, the others dropped you and Tech off, sending you with their best wishes and reminding you to comm them when you wanted to be picked up.

Before you left the ship, Hunter pulled you aside. "Something seems off today. It feels like a storm's coming. I hope it doesn't mess up your plans, but... just be careful, and comm us when you want us to come get you."

You tried not to take his warning to heart, you knew he was probably right, but you didn't want to think about anything getting in the way of your plans. With a quick nod and reassuring smile, you left the Marauder with Tech following behind you.

Hunter's warning was only the first of your problems. The second was the cabin itself.

It was a beautiful location, and when you opened the door, it seemed welcoming and comfortable, but perhaps a little too cozy.

Heat flooded your cheeks as you noticed the lack of a second bed, and panic began setting in at the thought of making Tech uncomfortable.

"I swear, I requested two beds! I even double checked when they confirmed it I-"

Tech shrugged. "It must have been a mistake on their part. Or perhaps, they had assumed any couple reserving a place to stay would only want one bed."

"I promise I will fix this, I'm so sorry." You couldn't begin to express your embarrassment. Tech didn't seem to notice, he just walked in and set his bags down before exploring the rest of the cabin.

He turned back to you, "I really do not mind, it is likely a busy time for them. You don't have to apologize."

He offered you a small smile before walking back toward you.

You returned the smile, but you began to feel crushed that your plans had already begun to fall apart.

Tech had never been great at recognizing your emotions, or his own for that matter, but this once he could see that you were genuinely upset. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to his chest.

“It is okay, Mesh’la, I promise.”

You sighed against his chest and returned the hug, feeling as though your worries were melting away from you, when you suddenly remembered that you had bought a present for him.

He looked down at you when he heard you gasp, and you grinned and ran to your bag to pull out a box wrapped to near perfection in bright paper.

“What is this?” He asked when you held the box out to him.

“Your present!”

His smile faded, “Present? But I... I did not get anything for you in return.”

“That’s not important, you’re here, and that’s all I wanted. Now open it!” Your last statement, as demanding as it sounded, pulled his smile back as he meticulously fiddled with the paper, trying not to tear it.

You watched on in amusement, incredibly aware that this was likely the first Life Day present he’d ever received, just by the way he was pulling at the paper. When he finally freed the box from its wrapping, he opened it and peered inside briefly before pulling the datapad out.

“Well...?” You asked. “Is it okay?”

He examined the datapad closely, his expression unreadable. You could feel your anxiety slowly starting to return when he finally spoke.

“It will need to be re-programmed to be compatible with my equipment and the Marauder, however, this is a wonderful present. Re-programming it will be no trouble at all.”

You breathed out a sigh, “I’m glad. You’re remarkably difficult to shop for, I hope you know that.”

He smiled slightly, “You did not need to get me anything at all, just to spend this time with you is satisfactory. May I ask what else you have planned?”

“Well, one thing that I always liked to do with my family was to go out and look at the decorations, so maybe while the weather is still nice, we could--” You cut yourself off as you turned toward the window. You could hardly see to the end of the lane through all the snow, whatever it was like when you arrived only a short time ago had done a complete 180. The winds had nearly blown over the trees outside, and the sky seemed to have turned completely white with snow.

“I suppose this means we will stay indoors.” Tech suggested.

The disappointment you had felt when you arrived crept back into your chest. Nearly everything you had planned fell apart. Hunter had warned you that a storm was coming, but you tried not to believe him. You felt Tech’s arm drape around your shoulders, and you leaned into him.

“I’m sorry...” You mumbled, still looking out the window.

“You needn’t apologize, nothing that has happened has been your fault.”

You didn’t say anything back, instead you began to walk away, not wanting to look at the blizzard outside, and not wanting to wait around to see if Tech was disappointed. Before you could leave the room, you felt him grab your hand.

“Wait, please don’t go.”

“I just... I wanted this to be perfect, and now almost everything I planned has fallen through.” You looked down, disappointed. “I’ll just comm Hunter and ask him to pick us up.”

Tech pulled you toward him once more with your back against his chest, resting his head atop yours. “We do not need to leave yet. I am not the best person to speak on this matter, but not every single one of our plans needs to be perfect. You put the effort into making this a good experience, and I for one am just happy to be spending the time with you.” When you didn’t answer him, he turned you to face him, and he gently kissed your forehead. “I assure you; I am perfectly content to just be here right now.”

“Thank you, Tech...” You finally replied. “I’m sorry for getting upset.”

“You have nothing to apologize for” He reminded you once more. “Now, seeing as how we are snowed into this cabin, perhaps we can find a holofilm to watch and we can just relax for now.”

You nodded and nestled into his chest. “That sounds wonderful.”

Tech picked up the datapad he had just received and began finding something to watch as you made yourself comfortable on the bed, still making sure that there would be plenty of room between you. When he finally joined you, he looked at you expectantly, then lifted his arm as an invitation for you to come closer to him.

“Are you sure?” You asked, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

“Just come here.” He answered with a smile.

You scooted over to him and leaned into his chest, feeling his arm drape over your shoulders again. His warmth and the steadiness of his breath instantly comforted you. The film played, projected at the end of the bed, and before you knew it, you felt yourself drifting off to sleep.

The next morning, you opened your eyes, not even aware you had fallen asleep.

“Happy Life Day.” You heard from beside you. Tech’s goggles were off, and his tone sounded as though he had just woken up as well. His arms were still around you and he kissed you on the forehead again. When you tried to get up, his arms tightened around you.

“Let’s just lie in for a little longer. Perhaps it’s strange, but I am quite comfortable.”

While your trip had started out a little rockier than you anticipated, it had ended perfectly. Without asking, Tech had become almost a beacon of comfort to you, and all you could think about was how much you were looking forward to spending future holidays with him – only this time ensuring you had back-up plans.

[auspicioustidings]

Satin and Lace

Summary: You have been abducted by pirates under the command of Captain Philip Graves.

Word Count: 2.4k

CW: None I don't think other than this being a complete crackfic AU

Captain Graves winked at you after making some lewd comment on the swordplay of his crew and it made you huff and point your nose up. It was like you had learned nothing in the last 3 weeks on this ship because immediately boisterous laughter rose up at your attitude. 

"Apologies darlin', forgot we were in the presence of such an esteemed lady" Graves purred.

You found the man insufferable. When you first met he had swept you out of your manor and onto his ship and you had been scared of him. Now? You don't know if the feeling really held. It was clear that his crew loved him and he loved them. He took time out of his day to teach the cabin boys proper sword form, would help in the galley when the sea was calm and it was decided there would be a 'family dinner' with all the crew getting double rations, gave any crew member that came within reach a loving bop on the shoulder or head which they always smiled at. 

So you wouldn't say you were scared of the man as such, if anything you wished he would do something to be more, well, pirate-y. Since stealing you away in the night neither he nor any of his crew had laid a finger on you. They would try to include you in banter sometimes, only laugh when you haughtily refused. But the laughter didn't feel mean. It made some twisted part of you comfortable, like you were being welcomed in to this crew. And that just would not do. 

Pirates were not to be befriended and a lady of your breeding could not simply roll over and let them charm you like this. It was such a temptation though. You hated your life in general, parents both dead, fortune and cold, empty manor left to their only child. There was immense pressure coming from every corner to marry, but the thought of letting some man only after your title and fortune stamp his last name on you before climbing inside your skin made you nauseous. It got worse with every caller, each of them thinking you stupider and weaker than the last. 

You knew you had garnered somewhat of a reputation now. The nickname whispered around the social circles had made you see red the first time you had heard it, but you had kept composure as always. 'The Unplucked Rose'. Reduced to a beautiful thing to be picked by those vultures, tittering away about how your thorns were only for show but your petals would surely be soft and delicate for any man to touch. The worst part of the whole thing was that they said it as a compliment, as if being beautiful for men was the greatest thing you could ever aspire to be. As if wilting with age before being plucked would be some tragedy. 

Here though? On this ship? Not one of the Shadow crew had ever made you feel the way high society had. They viewed your carefully composed airs and graces with humour, as if it was easy for them to see right through you to your heart that yearned to be able to relax for once, not always be poised. 

You had thought to be difficult for the Captain when you first set foot on the ship, demanding the best cabin if they were going to abduct you. He had only affirmed that of course you would get the best of everything and given you his cabin, provided ample dresses, made sure him and Oz always served you the best food the galley could provide. You thought that meant he would sleep with you, but he moved his sleeping arrangements to be with his men. It was confusing everything you knew about pirates.

Maybe you could relax, just a little. Nothing world shattering, but would it be so terrible to try and at least enjoy what you could of captivity? You weren't even sure how long you would be here or where they were taking you, this could all end tomorrow and then wouldn't you feel silly for choosing to be miserable the whole time?

"Oh I don't know Captain, with the way Oz and Lerch are holding those swords it seems you have always had a number of ladies on this ship."

The look that Graves gave you was as close to sin as you had ever seen. The slow smile at finally catching sight of you, the real you, not the creature of satin and lace that you constantly had to hide under, made butterflies erupt in your stomach. 

"Kitten finally gets her claws out!" Oz laughed and when you looked over you saw he had changed too. He was clearly delighted with this little surrender on your part, coming over to ruffle your hair. 

You immediately started to smack his hand away, ending up in somewhat of a play fight as he continued to try and ruffle. 

"Watch out, they say that cats hiss before they attack" Lerch laughed, making colour rise to your cheeks at the realisation you were practically hissing at the the First Mate. Then you were laughing too. God, you were laughing and it felt wonderful.

You were sure that you forgot how to breathe when a steady hand landed on your waist, pulling you gently away from Oz. Graves was so close to you now, smiling easily as if holding you like this wasn't absolutely scandalous in your eyes. God, you were not even allowed alone in the same room as a man never mind having one close enough that you could smell the gunpowder off of his skin. 

"Now now, leave our little lady be. Not her fault she's got eyes enough to see how bad y'all are with swordplay."

The others laughed and the Captain escorted you back to your quarters, crooking a finger under your chin to tilt your head to him.

"You be careful darlin' or I'm liable to do something foolish" he whispered, his voice booth husky and somehow smooth in your ears.

When his thumb brushed your bottom lip you found yourself wide eyed and leaning towards him. He smiled at you. He smiled at you and not that creature of satin and lace. When was the last time you had felt seen by anyone? This pirate was going to kiss you and oh how you yearned for it. 

But he only firmly pressed his thumb and finger to make your head tilt back down and pressed his lips to your forehead before fixing your hair, hand eventually settling to caress the side of your face.

"Your to be husband would have my head if he knew how I felt about you" he said with a wry smile, "if he knew I got to hear that beautiful laugh of yours. Got to know how you like the colour blue because it reminds you of the sea, how I could tell because you always pick the blue dresses when it's storming outside and you can't go on deck and look out. Think he'd not be inclined to forgive me seeing that pretty blush of yours when we're hauling ropes and you think we ain't looking. The pretty blush you have now."

You were entirely certain your heartbeat must be visible now with how it thumped against your ribcage like a wild bird thrashing to get out. 

"Husband?" you asked, voice barely a breath at this point. 

Graves' smile took on some taste of melancholy you did not care for at all as his hand dropped from your cheek before he took a step back.

"Rightfully should have been with him a week or more ago, but seems my Shadows have been coming up with all sorts of ways to delay the voyage. Galley saying they need provisions, bosun telling me we need maintenance, First Mate insisting we go around the weather. You'll get to meet him in two days if the weather holds. He heard about you, apparently you are all anyone talks about on land. Don't look so scared darlin', he's not a bad man. Worked with him for a time actually, back before I was a Captain. He traded in a life of piracy for something more legitimate, practically owns the whole island we're dropping you off at."

You knew that tears were threatening to spill from your eyes and you hated it. You wanted to scream and rage. This was why you had been on this ship for 3 weeks? Someone had bought you, paid Graves to pick you up and deliver you.  Composure, always composure. You shut the door, he would not see you cry.

--

You knew that cannons were supposed to be loud, but this was deafening. You were aware something was happening from the ringing of the bell and the fact that Velikan had thrown open the door to the cabin to make sure you were inside and then promptly locked himself in with you, standing ready by the door with his sword. You had always found the man in the demon mask fascinating, he didn't talk but he had carved a little bird and given it to you during your first week on the ship. Right now he was terrifying. 

He wouldn't even acknowledge you when you tried to ask what was going on, and then the cannon fire had started and you were thrown out of the bed. The wooden floor was not kind to you and you knew you would have bruises if you made it out of this alive. A short bark of laughter erupted from you at the thought that you may die in the bedroom of a pirate Captain in nothing but your night gown.

When another blow rocked the ship the noise suddenly intensified and you felt your stomach lurch as gravity fell away. There was envelopment in a deep cold, your name being screamed, and then nothing.

--

"Jesus bonnie, gave us a right fright! There ye are, yer ok."

You didn't feel ok, you felt like you were about to hack up a lung. When you shot up to do so you smashed into the head of the man that was leaning over you, him giving a short howl of pain before sitting back and laughing. You didn't have your wits fully about you to try and figure out what was going on, the only thing you could do was have a massive coughing fit, eased somewhat by a warm hand rubbing your back. 

"Hey it's ok. You're safe. My name is Kyle Garrick, I'm Royal Navy. And don't worry about Soap over there, most of the girls he kisses head butt him" said the man rubbing at your back. Soap had added a 'sort of, not really' after he had said Royal Navy. 

Looking around the deck of the new ship you were now on they at least did look more like officers and less like pirates if you ignored the one in a full one skull mask. You found it didn't really scare you having gotten used to men in masks over the past few weeks.

As Kyle sat you up he draped a blanket around you which you politely thanked him for through chattering teeth. Oh if only high society could see you now, night gown soaked through and clinging to your skin in a way that hid nothing.

"Captain Price" said a handsome man, going to a knee and shaking your hand with a steady smile that felt comforting. He was older than you, but young to be a Captain you thought. Then again, so was Graves. "You've had quite the ordeal. Given where the Shadows were heading, we think they were taking you to Kortac. It's an island about a days sail from here, but you don't have to worry. We'll get you home."

When the Captain went to stand you felt a sudden rush of something. A dam breaking. You leapt after him, grabbing his arm as tightly as you could. 

"I don't want to go home" you cried. After that you couldn't stop the tears, couldn't do anything about the words spilling out. You hated home. You wanted to stay on the sea where people saw you as more than what you had to pretend to be. You could not go back and attend parties and laugh politely when the insidious gossips made suggestions about what you may have experienced on a pirate ship. You thought you might die if the assumption that you were impure by their standards emboldened men to touch you without your permission. You wanted to be able to laugh again.

But you knew it was a lost battle. They said they were Royal Navy, they were hardly going to do anything but take you back to your manor. For what felt like hours the only sounds were the gentle lapping of the waves, the creaking of the ship and your sobs.

"The only people who know she's here are us, the Shadows and once they tell him König" said the man with the skull mask.

"Aye. The big man'll come for her. And I saw Phil's face when she went in the water, he'll come for her too. If it hadnae been me diving in there and pulling her onboard think he wouldnae have ran. He'd have stayed and fought even if it meant losing his ship and everyone on it."

You held the blanket tight around you, still on your knees and looking at the four men on the deck above you trying to figure out what they were suggesting. The Captain looked at you with a furrowed brow, some emotion you couldn't pinpoint passing over his face before he nodded and then looked to the skull mask man, the two of them walking off into the ship. 

You were confused as Kyle helped you to your feet with a grin.

"You'll need to wear some of my clothes until we can stop at a port and get you something better" he said.

"And dinae worry, we'll teach ye swordplay. That way when König and Graves come, ye can show them a thing or two" Soap added with a grin of his own.

When it hit you that you were staying you couldn't help but throw yourself at them in a tight embrace. Time to find out who the real you was.

[hannahbarberra162]

Struck Twice By Lightning, Chapter 4

On Ao3

Chapter 4 - The Smell of a Memory

As a general rule, you tried to be honest with yourself. There was no sense in lying to yourself, it would only cause problems down the line. You tried to hold an honest mirror to yourself and see what it reflected. You thought back to your days with Shanks and the Red Haired Pirates many times, reminiscing about the good and bad times you’d had with them. You had missed the feelings of freedom and adventure, like the only thing stopping you was your own limitations. You missed the salty sea air, the sound of the waves, and the gentle rocking of the boat. You missed the camaraderie, the friendships, the sense of belonging. On a few occasions, you had even admitted you missed Shanks. 

But one thing you had never ever missed was the stench of the Red Force. Yes, it was the flagship of one of the four Emperors. Yes, seeing it struck terror into the hearts of many. But the fact remained that the ship absolutely reeked. Stepping foot onto the deck, you were hit by the smell of stale alcohol, stale piss, and stale air. You pinched your nose. It didn’t help.

“Some things never change, I guess,” you said dryly to Shanks, who was still near you.

“Like your beauty,” he said with a cheesy smile.

Resisting the urge to punch him, you headed towards the captain’s quarters. You opened the door, and immediately went to open the windows. Shanks’s cabin was the rule, not the exception to the odor on the ship. You started to put away your things, and Shanks came to lean in the doorway.

“So, what were you saying about not cuddling?” Shanks said with a smirk.

“Hmmm?,” you said looking up. “Oh, I’m staying here. There’s no women’s quarters and there’s no way I’m sleeping in that funk cavern down below. I don’t care where you stay, but I’m staying here. Maybe Benn will take you.”

“Absolutely not!” yelled out Benn from the deck. “It’s like sleeping next to a sea king!”

“Well, looks like you’re bunking with your men,” you said with a shrug. “Good for building relationships and community.”

“I thought you said you didn’t care where I stayed!” Shanks said, sounding dismayed. “And wait! - I get to stay in my own room! I spent years getting the most comfortable mattress on the Grand Line. I returned 14 different mattresses before I found the perfect one. I’ve got the sheets with the highest thread count of any captain on these seas!” He jutted his hip and put his arm akimbo.

Despite yourself, you laughed. He was so indignant, so serious, about something so trivial. You actually didn’t care where he stayed, but you certainly cared where you did. You were both adults, you could share a room for a month. 

“And how would you know what other captains have on their beds?” you said, continuing to put your things away. “You been sleeping between their sheets?” 

Shanks huffed and you laughed again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day passed quickly for you. You were among old friends, and caught up with them. They told you what they’d been up to, funny stories, and interesting tidbits of the last few years. Hongo told you gross medical stories, which was always a source of fascination. Yasopp showed you some new tricks he’d learned, all of which were very impressive. They showed you their new scars, new battle wounds, and pictures of their new loves. It was like a show and tell of the last several years.

You told them about how you got into making sake and how you’d been. It wasn’t as exciting as their stories, but they’d enjoyed listening. Lime Juice and Bonk Punch begged you to make some sake on the ship during your stay. You allowed them to sway you, and said that you’d look for the tools and ingredients at the next island. 

Once the ship was in the open water, you started working the odd jobs you had done all those years before. When you were a crewmate, you mostly did whatever Benn asked you to do, but you also did the dishes, cleaned (had no one done that since you left?), helped Lucky Roux when needed. You started swabbing the deck since it looked like only spilled alcohol had been used previously. You were taking your time and enjoying the fine afternoon weather, watching the sea. There was so much you missed about sailing, you were happy for a small adventure on the seas. And, ever honest with yourself, you reluctantly admitted you were happy to have this small adventure with Shanks, too.

[leventart-den]

I'm here with another silly idea for ZoSan, dear Strawhearts. And you know what? I love cliches. Because for me it is always so much fun to take something that is very well-known and predictable and think how it can be turned around and changed. So, of course, when I see the "f*ck or die" tag on AO3, my brain immediately starts to work and think what I can do with it. I'm writing this in a very subdued and non-descriptive manner (because I'm just sharing a general idea), but I think you can fill in the blanks given the topic.

So what if this happened and during another battle with an enemy ship, Sanji was somehow drugged.

And now this is a ten times worse version of Sanji, and not only regarding girls. And since it's ZoSan, of course Zoro is the one who finds Sanji in the kitchen and notices that something is wrong with the shitty cook. They fight as usual, but in the end it ends with Sanji admitting that he needs help. He tells Zoro that he trusts him, that he is strong enough to watch over him and not let him out of the kitchen so that Sanji doesn't do things to others that he will later regret. 

So now they're stuck in the kitchen alone with Zoro shooing everyone away from the door who comes to find out what's going on. Although later they still had to move down to another cabin because Luffy couldn’t live without food and was ready to break inside. Sanji, in turn, is holding up adequately for now, but over time things are getting worse. Zoro can tell that the cook is burning like a furnace even sitting a few steps away from him.

Over time, Zoro begins to talk to Sanji to distract him. Somehow they manage to talk to each other without the usual fighting and insults. This is probably because Sanji is too out of it and just doesn't have the strength. And Zoro, despite the impression of an idiot that he sometimes creates, is actually very smart and attentive and senses the situation enough to react adequately. Because you can't be the best swordsman if you can't read your enemies and people in general as a consequence. And Sanji is not just a crew member, he has always been his rival. Zoro is able to read Sanji better than anyone to this point. So he understands when "it's not the right time". 

Although, as a few more hours pass, everything begins to slide even further down the slope. Zoro begins to think that the shitty cook has bitten more than he can chew. And if Zoro is completely frank, he himself has been having “strange” thoughts for some time now, which he stubbornly refuses to name. He suggests turning to Chopper for medical help, but Sanji categorically refuses. Chopper is too young and there is no way in hell that Sanji would allow him to be exposed to “such things in life” even as a doctor.

More time passes and when at some point Sanji stops responding to Zoro and he realizes that Curly blacked out Zoro thinks that he had enough.

He manages to bring Sanji back to consciousness and angrily (because he’s worried, although he won’t admit it) says that the cook is an idiot and instead of being stubborn and enduring and possibly dying, Zoro could help him. They could solve this problem. And in general it’s not even a problem, there’s nothing “special” about it, they’ll just forget about it after that and that’s it. However, despite his clouded consciousness, Sanji watched him very carefully and maybe he would have believed Zoro that “there is nothing special about this” if he had not been red as a tomato and his hands had not trembled so much, despite how tightly they were squeezing the collar of his shirt. 

So after a moment of silence, he carefully removed Zoro's hands, never taking his eyes off Zoro.

"Marimo. If you want to help me, help me. Stay with me. Make sure I don't do anything stupid. Restart my heart if it stops. Help me breathe if I can't anymore. But don't fucking ever offer me this solution again. That won't happen, not in circumstances like these. Not under pressure. I don't want to hear this. I'd rather fucking die than let anything control me and influence my actions. I am my own man, this is my body and only I can decide what and how."

There was something left unsaid. Something Zoro doesn't know yet about the cook's past. But he understands that it is important enough not to try to propose this solution anymore.

Silence fell after that, interrupted only by Sanji's heavy breathing and muffled wheezes of pain. Each of them with their own thoughts. Curly is strong, Zoro knows he will get through, but despite this, for some reason it’s hard to hear his pain. Zoro's hand twitches to reach out to him and somehow bring comfort. But he doesn't do that, he just sits next to him.

It becomes dark, night falls over the sea and a sudden thought comes to Zoro.

“You said that you don’t want it to happen under such circumstances.. Does that mean that under different..”

"Shut up shitty Marimo."

"..you would make out with me?"

Zoro doesn't see Sanji's face, he doesn't answer. But the silence is so loud that Zoro begins to think that he is about to suffocate. He wasn't prepared for how hard it would hit him.

They don't speak after that. It's deep into the night when Zoro hears that Sanji's breathing has become measured, he seems to have fallen asleep. The drug has worn off. Zoro sighs, feeling suddenly very tired and as if sobered up. This is an unpleasant and strange feeling. It was as if it suddenly became colder. He feels nervous and angry. And the worst thing is he understands why.

He is afraid of losing what he doesn't have. What he didn't know he needed. Something he didn't notice.

Sanji shifts in his sleep and Zoro feels a growl forming in his throat.

He doesn't sleep that night.

He guards.

[wheels-of-despair]

Live A Little | A Worth It AU | Ralph Penbury x You | Masterlist

In This Edition: You and Ralph venture out of your cabin! Words: 1.3k

You wake to the sound of angry whispers.

"It's not proper!"

"Those kids have been through Hell together!"

"They're not married!"

Ralph's eyes open. You hold your breath and listen closely, watching each other beneath the covers and not daring to move a muscle.

"And?"

"And it's despicable! Having to share a room with… with…"

"With my niece, and the boy who saved her life?"

"I thought you said his sister was on board! Send him there, or back to the lounge!"

"My girl wouldn't leave that boy to get on a boat and save her own life, and you think she's going to let him go because you said so?"

A proud smile spreads across your face. You knew Aunt Molly would always be on your side.

"Ugh!" The other woman groans in frustration, and you hear the door open.

"If you think for one minute that I'm--" Molly shuts the door, and your eavesdropping is abruptly cut off.

"She's got it wrong," Ralph whispers. "You're the one who saved me."

"Aunt Molly is never wrong," you smile.

"Then perhaps we'll have to agree to disagree."

"That won't do," you argue, reaching out to cup the side of his face. "Because we saved each other."

You're already close, but you both move your faces forward just a tiny bit for a kiss.

The door closes again.

"Food's here, kids! I let you sleep through dinner last night, but I draw the line at missing breakfast."

Aunt Molly sits on her bed and tells you about how the other survivors are being treated by the generous crew and passengers of the Carpathia while you eat, but you find it hard to concentrate. You do notice that she makes no mention of the argument with her roommate… whose few possessions have disappeared.

Molly leaves again when you've finished eating, and you and Ralph return to bed. You've never been so exhausted in your life. You're grateful for your tiny bed, and the boy you're sharing it with.

There are no windows in your cabin. The only marker of time is whispered words on well-timed bouts of consciousness with Ralph. You remember getting up to eat once more, and to visit the lavatory. You have a vague memory of Molly suggesting that you switch beds, now that Hettie had found other accommodations, and guiding you and Ralph to the slightly larger mattress.

You'd continue to sleep inches apart anyhow.

"Should we go find Victoria?" you ask, during one of those rare occasions you're both awake at the same time.

"No," Ralph sighs. "I don't want to see her."

"I don't want to see anyone but you," you breathe.

"Likewise," he says.

And then you both drift off again.

"I can't stop dreaming about it," Ralph admits another time.

You know exactly what he's talking about. It haunts you too.

"What would you like to dream about?" you ask.

"You," he answers.

"Perhaps if we concentrate on happier things, we'll dream about them?"

"It's worth a try," Ralph sighs. "I want to see snow. Real snow, not just a flurry. I want to be in a warm house, with you, looking out the window at the falling snow. At Christmastime."

"That sounds wonderful," you smile, closing your eyes and trying to picture it. "I'll make us hot cocoa... we can bake cookies… maybe it'll be so hot, we'll have to take our clothes off…"

"Mm…" Ralph hums.

You both drift off again, hoping to experience the romantic scene you've set instead of the horrifying vision of the sea swallowing an unsinkable ship.

It's not until after dinner, delivered by Molly, that you feel truly awake again. Your aches have subsided. Your brain isn't foggy anymore. Your body still wants to remain in bed, however, so you lie there on your back next to Ralph, looking at the ceiling.

"I think I'll enjoy being on solid ground again," you muse.

Ralph doesn't respond. You turn your head to see a worried expression on his face.

"Ralph? Are you alright?"

"Do you still want to marry me?

His question makes your heart stop. Is he having second thoughts? You turn your gaze back to the ceiling, rather than stare at him in fear.

"Of course I do, Ralph. Do you still want to marry me?"

"Absolutely, but… do you think your parents will allow it?"

"I'd like to see them try and stop us," you respond without even having to think about it.

Ralph looks taken aback by your comment.

"I love you, Ralph Penbury," you smile, squeezing his hand and gazing at him in adoration. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Whether it's an hour or a lifetime, I want it to be with you. And I don't give a damn what anyone else has to say about it."

Ralph's eyes begin to water. He leans over for a kiss. It starts sweet, but soon turns desperate. Passionate. Something you haven't felt up to in days.

"I'm so happy I met you," he breathes.

"So am I," you smile, cupping his jaw and staring into his beautiful eyes. You can't imagine spending another day without him.

"Let's do it," you suggest.

"Do what?"

"Let's get married."

"Have we not just established we're going to?" he asks.

"Now."

"Now?"

"Let's get married now," you clarify. "They can't object if it's already done."

"Do you mean it?"

You nod.

"But… weddings take months to plan."

"Do you want to wait months, Ralph?"

His brow furrows, and you can see him weighing his options.

"You'd be willing to forego the dress, and the flowers, and the church? Your family being present? All those traditions? For me?"

"I don't need any of that, Ralph," you smile. "All I need is you."

"Are you sure?"

"Ralph, please don't think that I'm trying to pressure you into this. We don't have to do this if you don't want to. We're both tired and hazy still. If you want to--"

"No," he interrupts. "Are you sure you want me?"

The unsure look on his face pains you. How can he not see that he's your entire world? You lean forward for a deep kiss.

"Now who's mad?" you ask, pulling back with a smile. You cradle his face in your hands. "Of course I want you, Ralph. You're the only one I've ever wanted. And I'll still want you tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that. We don't have to do this now, if you're not ready. I'll wait forever for you."

Ralph stares at you for a moment, then laughs.

"I love you," he says, leaning over to pepper your face with kisses.

"I love you too, Ralph," you giggle, lying helplessly under his attack.

"Well, my love, shall we find ourselves a minister?" he asks when he finishes.

You grin and roll out of bed. You visit the lavatories and fix yourselves up the best you can, and set off in search of a holy man. A steward directs you to the person you're looking for.

You had no idea a wedding could happen so quickly. All the ones you'd attended back home had taken months to plan, like Ralph said. Hundreds of guests, many of whom the bride and groom probably didn't even like. Thousands spent on venues and decorations and dinner for hundreds. So much commotion, the people it was for barely had time to speak to each other.

And then there was this. A quiet ceremony in a dark corner of a ship's library, days after an event that would surely be one for the history books. In the clothes you'd been wearing for days. No fanfare at all; just you, the man you love, and the man reading scripture who would happily sign the necessary papers for a young couple who chose love in the face of tragedy.

It was perfect.

[okay-j-hannah]

Lovey Dovey

Pirates of the Caribbean : Fic

Will Turner x Reader

Word Count: 1541

Warnings: Hilarious sibling banter... Will be a king treating his woman like a queen 👑 swashbuckling pirate swears

Request: “This is me absolutely begging and foaming at the mouth for you to write a Will Turner x reader. I’m fine with fluff or smut lmao. I have a couple ideas if you also want to write multiple (or blend them into 1), you totally don’t have to though. 3. Being Jack Sparrow’s (sister/close relationship) and dating Will - First of all,THE C H A O S Jack constantly bugging you about being all “lovey dovey” on his ship (even if it’s not a significant amount). Jack also always complaining in general lmao. I think this is cute because Jack being over protective of you dating Will just seems so precious to me. PLEASE INCLUDE SOME FORM OF SIBLING BANTER 🙏🏻. Having accurate sibling teasing or banter is so important when writing relationships like these! Plus Sharing a hammock below deck” @gingerdissapointment​

A/N: Jack has never been overjoyed at the thought of you and your boyfriend - especially when you’re kissing on his ship

The skies were a rich coastal blue between the clouds. The gulls gave their cries as they flew overhead, pestering the inhabitants below for a morsel to eat. The sea was gentle as it rocked the ship.

Rocked the ship and the first mate.

(Y/N) was clearly taking her position on the ship very seriously as she lay across the edge of the starboard side. Her hat drawn to keep the sun off her face, she looked as a cat might just before a long nap.

Until the captain, laden with beads and braided scarves, came from his quarters. The black, heavy lids of his eyes fell into a squint as he spotted his first mate. She did enjoy testing his authority.

Sucking on a gold tooth, Captain Jack Sparrow sauntered over, slamming a hand onto the weathered wood beneath her. “I say, man! Hoist the sails, pull anchor, and undock this ship before I find another to replace yer useless, sleepy arse.”

She barely flinched as he bombarded her beginnings of sleep. A heavily ringed hand lifted to tilt her hat back, shooting the captain a look. It clearly spoke of how disappointing his efforts had become in motivating her.

“Go back to your Tortugan women and let me doze.”

“For your information, missy – we’re not on Tortuga anymore.”

“And you’re telling me you haven’t kept a few pretties in your cabin?”

Jack chewed the inside of his cheek, speaking lowly, “You know Gibbs will cause a mutiny if he sees any woman on this ship but you.”

“Yes, and being unable to escape your persistent stupidity, I’d thought challenging Gibbs would make smuggling barmaids all the more fun.”

Hat back over her face, (Y/N) couldn’t see the way Jack flailed his arms in a pitiful attempt to express his frustration. “If I hadn’t promised mum…”

“If you hadn’t promised mum what?” she suddenly sat up, swinging her legs so she was facing him.

His expression was dry, “If I hadn’t promised to watch over you aboard this ship – I would push you off this instant – to hell with the plank.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she smirked.

In a flash, Jack shoved her shoulder, just enough that she was caught off balance. And the fear that flashed across her face, however short lived, made him smile. “You should be kinder to your captain.”

He went for the wheel, fishing for his compass. (Y/N) slid from her spot, stomping after him, “You really would let me fall in?”

“You can swim.”

She punched his shoulder and he winced.

“You wouldn’t last a week on the seas without me.”

It was the usual bickering between the captain and the first mate. And many of the crew had to dodge as buckets of water and empty rum bottles flew at each other. There was rarely a voice of reason between the two – Gibbs had given up after an incident with a sea turtle and a peg leg – making only one option for a mediator.

“Mr. Will Turner,” Gibbs laughed gruffly, “’Bout time you came aboard.”

Will raised his eyebrows, stepping off the boarding plank, “Are things really so severe without me here?”

A wooden chair came flying from the captain’s quarters, splintering against the wheel. A second later (Y/N) came bounding out, a small chest in her hands, and ran to hold it over the side of the ship.

Jack cried after her, flailing his arms and tripping over the broken chair along the way, “DO NOT toss that treasure overboard.”

“What does it matter? You’re a pirate – go find some more!”

“Yes, but that chest is particularly valuable to me, and I would sorely miss it’s contents. So kindly return it before I tie you to the mast and let the seagulls shit down your pretty face.”

Will coughed obnoxiously and both siblings turned to face him. “What’s so important about the chest?”

(Y/N) grinned, “Will!” She let go of the treasure chest and ran for him. Jack yelled as he dove for the chest, catching it just before it fell over the edge.

“Why must you pester your brother?” Will asked, hugging her tight and kissing her cheek, “I would rather he be reasonable when I visit – he’s not overly fond of me.”

She grabbed his face and gave him a proper kiss, “I don’t care what my brother thinks.” She kissed him hard, losing balance.

A retching could be heard from behind them, “I’d sooner battle the kraken than watch you two swabbing tongues.” Jack sauntered back to his cabin, “We’re leaving in an hour.”

“He’s just jealous the longest he’s ever had a partner was overnight.”

Will snickered, taking her hand, “Best leave him be. I want you all to myself tonight.”

Jack poked his head out of the door, “And if I catch any lovey dovey nonsense on my ship, you can walk the plank and get your quota of kisses from the sharks!”

(Y/N) bit her lip, dragging Will by the hand and below deck.

“Did you hear me?” Jack cried almost desperately, “You keep that hand a safe distance from her!”

“I don’t care how much you fight,” Will said as they descended the stairs, “Jack loves you.”

“He’s protective, is all,” (Y/N) sighed, “I wish he showed he cared in other ways. Like letting me have first pick in a treasure hoard.”

They laughed and kissed all the way to the hammocks used for sleeping while sailing the seas. (Y/N) pushed him into one and jumped on top of him. The hammock swung from the jump, their tangled limbs fitting snug into a cocoon. (Y/N) wrapped herself around him, feeling safe and warm and vulnerable next to him.

“I want to tell you something,” Will whispered to her, running his fingers lightly down her arm.

She squirmed at the tickling, “What is it?”

“I’ve been meeting with the Port Royal banks, building a line of credit with them.”

(Y/N) became very still, her thumb trailing down his ribs, “Why do that? You already own the smithery.”

“I sold it.”

She sat up, hand against his chest, “Why do that? You’re an excellent blacksmith.”

His eyes were shining in the dim light, “I’m buying you a ship. A ship for us.”

“What?” There was a smile on her lips like she didn’t believe him, “A real ship?”

“I’m doing it the right way,” he mumbled, “It takes longer, but… We’ll have a home on the sea.”

She giggled, “A real ship? With a crew?”

“If you want.”

“And you’ll be the captain and I’ll be the first mate,” she grinned, running a hand up his neck to hold his cheek.

Will smiled fondly, “You will be captain. And I’ll be your first mate.”

(Y/N) marveled at him, getting quiet when she said, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” And he tilted his head to catch her lips, gripping her tight by the waist.

She kept ahold of his cheek, giggling as he tickled her sides. They were too preoccupied to hear a set of footsteps tromping down the stairs.

“Oh, God! Damned Davy Jones. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

(Y/N) fell into Will’s shoulder, sighing, “What does it look like we’re doing?”

“Not on my ship, missy. Not. On. My. Ship.”

“Oh, sod off,” (Y/N) yelled, “Grab your rum and go.”

“I’m going to be honest with you, mate,” Jack pointed a wavering finger, “If you don’t get your sticky paws off my sister, I’m going to chain you to a cannonball and throw you overboard for the kraken to eat.”

(Y/N) toppled out of the hammock, “Jack you’re taking it a little far. Will’s been nothing but good to me since we’ve known him. I don’t understand this vendetta you have against him.”

“He’s… well, there’s something about him.” Jack twiddled his fingers, “And I promised – I swore to mum that I’d…” He suddenly became quiet, “That I’d look after you.”

Her heart softened, “And you’ve done a pretty damn good job so far.” She knew he needed to hear it, “And I’m not asking you to stop looking after me. I’m asking that you let someone else help. Someone good and kind. And a partner for me – I’m sorry captain, but that’s not something you can give me.” She tried at a smile.

And Jack did have the slightest crack of his lips, “You were always going to outgrow me.”

Will came up behind (Y/N) and placed an arm around her shoulders. Surprisingly Jack didn’t retort, “You’re not the only one that cares about her.”

“I’m still not a fan of the lovey dovey nonsense.”

“That’s fine,” (Y/N) laughed, “We’re gonna do it anyway.”

Jack laughed too, taking a step back and making for the stairs. He snatched a bottle of rum from the stores as he said, “Put a sock on the cabin door next time. I already have enough trauma without seeing whatever you two do alone.”

And that was about as close as Jack was going to get in saying he accepted his sister dating. Will gripped her side and whispered jovially in her ear.

“You want to get all lovey dovey?”

“Let me grab a sock first.”

~~~

Tag List:

@caswinchester2000 @aria253264 @bippity-boppity-boopa @kaqua @cameleonfrenzy @shyposttree 

Remember to check out my tag list so you’re updated when a fic you like is posted on my blog! Tag List

[commander-krios]

Safe Haven

Fandom: Andromeda Six Pairing: Juniper "June" Nyux/f!Traveler Rating: General Summary: Maris never felt at home in Goldis, but with June, she's never felt safer. Words: 953 Additional Tags: Love, Feelings, Friendship/Love, Post-Orion

Read on AO3

The hallways of the Andromeda Six were deserted, a depression falling over the entire ship after the events of Orion. Chrono was in their solar dust, Tilaarin on the radar as their next stop. But Maris couldn’t stop thinking about the experiments, the agony on June’s face, and how easy it was for him to destroy the Orionite tainted soldiers. She’d been honest when she told him that he didn’t scare her, he never had, but her heart hurt every time she remembered the tortured expression on his face when he’d apologized to her for it all.

As if he had to apologize for simply existing.

Maris somehow managed to resist seeking him out after his visit to her cabin a few days before, knowing there were preparations to be made for Tilaarin, that the guns were still in need of repairs, and that the crew was busy with all of their normal tasks. But after three more days of silence, she found herself standing in front of June’s door, the access panel glowing a dreadful red that did little to ease her nerves.

After a moment’s hesitation, did she really think she was important enough to bother him for no reason, she lifted her fist to knock, the echo loud in the quiet. The door opened barely a few seconds later, June’s confusion immediately turning to delight at the sight of her, a smile brighter than any sun she’d seen on his handsome face. Any doubt she had vanished as he reached forward, rough fingers closing around her hand.

“Maris? I wasn’t expecting you-”

“Oh… I’m sorry. I just… haven’t seen you for more than a couple minutes here or there in the last few days and I wanted to… I should have asked.” She flushed, feeling like a complete idiot, and took a step back. “I’ll leave you be.”

“Please, don’t ever apologize.” June shook his head and pulled her closer before she could sprint down the hallway, the door hissing closed behind her, leaving them alone in his room. His fingers trailed down her arm, a softness to his grey eyes that left her weak in the knees. “I’ve missed you.”

“You did?” She responded with a flirty grin, running a hand over his vest, the smooth fabric soft against her fingertips. 

June chuckled, stilling her hand before she could go farther. Lifting it to his mouth, he pressed a kiss to her knuckles, soft and slow, eyes burning as he watched her duck her head, unable to stop the blush on her cheeks. His lips trailed down her hand until they reached her wrist. Then he pressed another kiss there. When he spoke, his mouth was still against her skin and she felt every word. “I always miss you when you’re not here.”

Clearing her throat, she turned away, trying to hide the flush beneath her choppy teal hair, but failing miserably. June tugged on her hand, stopping her before she tried to run for it again, guiding her closer to him. She glanced up as he wrapped an arm around her waist, soft lips brushing against her forehead.

With a sigh, she wrapped her arms around him, her face pressed into the white shirt he wore. He smelled so much like the sandalwood and lavender soap he bathed with and fresh air and life. He was solid and warm, his arms holding her gently against his body, and for the first time in months, she felt safe. Like she was finally home. And that terrified her more than the thought of returning to Goldis, of facing down the man who orchestrated her entire family’s massacre.

“June? I need to tell you something.” 

“You can tell me anything.” His hand trailed down her back in gentle strokes, his heat soaking into her with each touch.

Maris felt the flutter of butterflies in her stomach and she turned her face so he wouldn’t see the terror in her eyes. The last thing she needed was for him to misinterpret it as fear of him. Her fingers toyed with a button on his shirt, trying to focus on the words so she didn’t jam them together into some incoherent nonsense. Like usual. “You… make me feel safe. You make me feel like I can be whatever, whoever, I want to be and that’s not something I’ve ever felt before.”

There were more things she wished she could express this early in their relationship but her tongue grew heavy and she paused, closing her eyes as the horror of being so open and vulnerable hit her full force. June inhaled deeply, his chest expanding against her cheek and she closed her eyes tighter, hands trembling as her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt.

“Maris?”

June hooked a finger beneath her chin, tilting her head towards his, but she kept her eyes shut, terrified to see the look on his face. He shifted closer, pressing a single kiss to each eyelid before waiting for them to flutter open, green eyes meeting grey.

Running a hand across her hair and curling the teal strands around his fingers, the corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk. “You don’t have to be afraid to admit what you feel to me. Because with you, I feel the same. You make me feel normal… more of a real person than I’ve ever had.”

Maris felt all fear, all worry, all doubt melt away at his words and she sighed, hugging him tighter. June let out a chuckle before laying his head atop hers, chest rumbling against her cheek. A happy sound that she vowed to hear every day of the rest of her life.

[yonemurishiroku]

https://www.tumblr.com/yonemurishiroku/726171882461724672/i-have-excellent-news-for-you?source=share

What r some of ur hcs about this ship?

Ok. I usually don’t spill the beans about what I plan to write (mainly bc I need to keep up the motivation), but this would be an exception bc I always make exception for rarepairs.

Anw. About Clovis and Nico.

I have many jumbling thoughts about them but Ig it all comes down to two things:

1/ Their stories

2/ Their powers, down to their very core.

When I say the stories, here’s the thing

Nico has a lot of history, whereas Clovis does not. Obviously. Nico has been around as the deuteragonist since book 3, whereas Clovis barely makes an appearance. The difference in their screen time is abyssal.

But look at it in the normal way. If Nico was to play a character, what does that make Clovis?

An observer.

Why? Because Clovis, as it turns out, has the potential to be the one who knows the most, seeing as the Hypnos’ cabin is literally the central station of the highway through which all dreams must pass through.

And dreams, essentially, are just fragments of one’s life stories.

So look at it this way. Nico is a character. Clovis is the observer, and from that, a story teller.

- He is frankly a stranger but he may know a lot more about Nico than a mere stranger would. Isn’t that romantic? (A little creepy but let’s not delve on that)

- Nico wouldn’t be alone. He might think he’s alone, but if we take in the assumption that Clovis knows about his struggles, he might offer silent help without prying too much.

Think of it this way. You’re struggling and you’re just so tired but every way you look at is a dead-end. And then suddenly someone comes and takes your hand and opens a new door and you just collapse in their arms crying as they tell you “It’s gonna by okay”

- Clovis is a son of the Underworld too. What does it mean? It means the “ppl don’t like children of hades” doesn’t mean shit. Clovis would be the exception to whatever Nico has had to deal with from CHB.

- Rick makes Nico an insomnia and I’m monopolizing it for Clovico bc not letting Clovis in this is obviously Clovis-erasure. The potential is hitting me in the face. I’m sending Nico off to Hynpos’ cabin at every chance I get.

- Sleep dates every night bc I SAID SO. Nico getting over his touch-fright thanks to piling up in pillows and blankets with the Hypnos children so much.

- Clovis falling asleep during meetings bc he has Nico relaying everything to him later. Bonus point if he is actually laying on Nico’s shoulders and everyone’s like “shouldn’t we address that” but Nico’s like “Shhh” 😭😭😭

- Brewing tea and warming milk for each other!

- Morning routine: opening eyes - “Do u feel like up and shining?” - “Nah” - proceeds to return to sleep until Austin comes rapping on the door

- “We have a date” and all ppl see them doing is just sleeping. JOKE’S ON THEM tho bc they’re having the best dates ever in the dreamland

Which brings us to the second point vvvv

Their powers overlap in one thing, and that is the dreams.

Throughout the series, we have been shown: Olympus, Erebus, Tartarus, Atlantis (idk ab that tho). You know what we haven’t touched?

The dreamscape.

No, not the misleading nightmares/ illusions of Epiales in TSATS. I mean the dreamscape. The land of one’s living mind.

It’s literally a new world right there.

And oh would you look at that. Who could enter this realm? Oh right! Children of Hades and Hypnos.

Nico and Clovis (and other children of Hypnos Morpheus ofc) have a whole world to themselves, no shit.

- Here’s a thing I like ab what Rick did in HOO: Through the dreams, Nico could connect with the Hypnos cabin in general and Clovis in specifics, thousands of miles away from them.

So what does this mean? It means that, no matter where Nico is, he can always find his way to Clovis.

Just fall asleep and then let his dream lead him.

Isn’t that romantic - that the one you love would always be there, behind your eyelids? 🫶🥰 And you can always see them just by closing your eyes?

Nico could be at the other side of the globe and they’d still be seeing, touching each other every day/night. Look me in the eyes and tell me another couple who could do it.

- The whole thing about death being a big, undisturbed sleep. But it’s 1:30 am i don’t have th willpower

- I have a whole thing which is Alice in Wonderland AU but again i have nothing

[my-favourite-zhent]

New Tricks - Chapter 16

Status: Work In Progress Version: 1.01 Pairing: Rugan x AFAB!OC Rating: NC-17 (This chapter R for violence) Genre: Adventure/Romance Summary: Misadventures of Rugan and the original Zhentarim Gate's crew before and during the year of three sailing ships.

Notes: Sorry for the long delay folks. I ended up scrapping a lot of what was originally written for this chapter and some of it has been moved to the next one. But for what it's worth this chapter is almost triple the usual length so lets just pretend its 3 chapters.

Much love for my editor and plothole spotter @fistfuloftarenths as well as @dustdeepsea for their grammar and beta-reading support.

Table of Contents

Read on AO3 here or below the cut.

New Tricks - Chapter Sixteen

Ships, gods he hated ships. Ever since Rugan had first set foot on one as a lad back in Luskan he had hated them. Had been a bit of a running joke with the crew. Born to the city of sails yet he took to the sea about as well as a horse. Didn’t help that he had never learned to swim. The waters around Luskan were cold and biting, and he had known more than one lad growing up who had gotten frostbite or Winter’s chill from a reckless dip in the River Mirar.

At least travel by river was steadier than by sea.  They weren't busy swaying to and fro, battling unseen currents. Rivers were flat for the most part, if there were rapids then those were always present, not like the surprise of choppy seas set on you based upon the whims of Umberlee. Any storms wouldn’t dump torrents of water on the deck like they would at sea, wouldn’t have the weight to batter and tip them over. 

Generally river boats weren’t as grand as the ships that set out to sea, but Athkatla and Crimmor sat along the Alandor river. The Alandor was wide and deep enough to accommodate the seafaring caravels. This one was large enough to contain a few cramped passenger’s quarters and a small galley. Rugan laid in his narrow cabin bed, propped up against the headboard and sighed. It was the fastest way to get to Athkatla, but with no work to do it left him with entirely too much free time. Nothing to prevent his thoughts from drifting back to Crimmor and Iz. 

He would’ve liked to have stayed longer, apologise properly, bed her down in those soft sheets at least a few more times. But then the sending had come from Sal. The delivery recipients had yet to make contact. Unusual, highly unusual, enough so that it had set his hairs on end.

There had been instances in the past where a client could no longer pay for a shipment, or had even died before it had arrived. But even then the Zhents had always been contacted. They'd keep the cargo in part or full as a due in the former, or someone else would come to collect in the latter. Valuables were still valuables after all. But absolute silence? It made Rugan's gut turn the way it did just before a bit of violence. 

What he had hoped would be a leisurely recovery instead became hastily making arrangements to take the river down to Athkatla the next day. And where once they had planned to go together he had instead insisted that Izzy stay behind. As much as he wanted more time with her there was no sense showing up to what may very well be a trap with a civilian in tow.

So instead he'd been forced to say his goodbyes on the dock. 

+++++

Mists obscured the riverbanks the morning of his departure. When a torrent of rain had come down he used the excuse to pull her under his cloak, holding her close in the last slivers of dark before daybreak. He pressed his face into her hair, arms encircling her waist. She smelled of jasmine oil and citrus fruits.

“Lots of nice book shops in the Gate, you know.” She couldn't come to Athkatla, not now, but maybe in a few days or so…

He felt her laugh more than he heard it. “Great connoisseur are you?”

“Picked up a thing or two from a pretty lass in Waterdeep.”

She pulled away to smile up at him, pensively, then gave a sad shake of her head. “You'll have to show me in the spring. I'll try and find some work up your way.”

“Ah, the spring then.” He worked hard to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

“Wintersmoot is soon. It's a celebration to mark the end of the caravan season. Maybe you could come back after your job?”

But he was already shaking his head. “Need to get home, boss’ll want a proper debriefing after what a mess this whole trip has been.”

“Ah.” The corners of her cheeks were upturned, but her eyes were so damned sad.

“Iz,” he sighed, slipping his fingers into those thick tresses of hers. “I've been unkind to you.” He spoke softly, such that only she could hear him against the patter of the rain.

“We can speak on it when we next meet. I don't want to dwell on that now.” Isolde turned to press her lips against the corner of his mouth, and he turned in kind to catch her in a lingering kiss. She was so soft and sweet and if he could have he would've devoured her whole.

The tempo of the rain slowed, the sound of its fall receded until the first rays of sunlight began to peek over the horizon. And still he did not let go, putting off boarding till the last possible moment.

“We're shipping off now, Saer.” The shiphand called from a no longer obscured riverboat. At last Rugan was forced to pull himself away from her.

“Tymora smile on you, Zhent.”

“She always does.” His fingers brushed over her cheek once more before alighting onto the barge.

There were shouts and hollers as the deckhands cast off the lines. They pushed off from the mooring with long poles, keeping the boat parallel to the docks as it slowly drifted into the river. Only when they reached the deeper waters of the river’s centre did they move to unfurl the sails. From the deck Rugan watched Izzy's solitary figure on the wharf till she too was consumed by the fast returning mists of the Alandor river.

+++++

The Adamantine Mug was an ostentatiously decorated inn. Everything was gleaming in silver: the bar rails, the wall sconces, the doorknobs. Salazon supposed this lent an air of respectability for its mostly merchant clientele, but he couldn't help but find it to be a bit of a waste.

Despite that, the rooms were surprisingly cheap, or at least they would have been if Bellar hadn't picked a fight with the innkeeper the first night. Sal had smoothed over the argument enough that the rooms were still affordable, but he wasn't pleased with paying half more than the going rate.

The trio were seated in the inn's taproom. Their table was tucked into a comfortable alcove to the rear of the building, and naturally they had their backs to the wall. From here they had a clear line of sight to the front door and could easily slip out through the kitchen if need be.

The place was quieter this time of year. With caravan season almost at its end there were less merchants in the city. Still, it was one of the more popular establishments and a good number of tables were taken up by groups of patrons chatting away or quiet individuals enjoying their drinks. 

It was also a good day to be indoors. The rain outside was pelting down, and seemed to form a thin layer of ice everywhere it touched. 

“Can you believe they made me get a licence to cast spells? What's next, a licence for breathing?” Salazon slammed his mug down on the table for emphasis.

“Zarys handled it, so what's the problem?” Bellar was leaning back in his chair, boots on the table, idly cleaning his nails with a knife.

“It's the principle of the matter!”

Olly sighed into his mug for the umpteenth time that afternoon, not being much in the mood for actual drinking.

“I already told you he's fine Olly.” Sal was getting a bit exasperated, it had been over an hour.

“Then why isn't he here yet?”

“I am here, you bastards just don't know how to use your damned eyes.” Rugan appeared at the right side of the alcove, throwing his hood back.

“Rugan!” Olly jumped to his feet. The boy was so earnest that Rugan forgot all his anger in an instant. Damn it all, that was going to make scolding him all the more difficult.

“Well if it isn’t Tymora’s chosen himself.” Sal smiled warmly.

“Should’ve tattooed a shamrock on your ass instead of that black hand.” Bellar added with a smirk.

“If I was half as jammy as you two seem to think, I wouldn’t have fallen ill in the first place.”

“Pretty girl falls out of the sky and puts you up in a nice house. If that’s what you call bad luck then Beshaba grant me her blessing.” Sal complained.

“He's been complaining like this the whole trip,” interjected Bellar. “Can't tell if he wants to fuck your girl’s friend or her library.”

“I'd happily take either.” Sal agreed.

“How did you get in here without us seeing you?” Olly piped up.

“Been here a while before you lot came down, lad. Bit disappointed no one was paying attention considering our current predicament.” He cast his gaze over Sal and Bellar. At least the former had the decency to look sheepish. Bellar didn't even meet his gaze.

“What situation? So they're a little late, if they don't show we just pawn the goods ourselves. Easy as that.” Bellar squinted at something on the tip of his blade.

“We don't even know what the cargo is .” Sal huffed.

“Aye, and that makes it all the more suspect. Usually we’re given a proper manifest but this one was all hush hush. Don't sit right with me, so mind your surroundings and no one goes out anywhere on their own.”

“Is it really that bad?” Asked Olly.

“Maybe, or maybe it's nothing. But I'd rather we were overly cautious and it turns out to be nothing rather than the opposite.” Rugan took the seat next to Sal. He hung his cloak over the chair's top rail and angled it such that his back was to the wall.

“Now that's a fine cloak.” Bellar noted, impressed. “Get that from your bit of skirt?”

“So what if I did?”

“Might've misjudged you, thought she was running a game on you but it looks like it's the other way round.”

Rugan bit his tongue. Better to let Bellar believe he was using Iz than to deal with the fallout of … well of them being what to each other exactly?

“That is nice,” remarked Sal eyeing the material, before locking eyes with Rugan and raising an eyebrow.

Rugan averted his eyes and instead flagged down the pretty blonde barmaid as an excuse to ignore the unspoken question.

+++++

The wooden steps of the inn creaked beneath Rugan's feet as he and Olly ascended. The evening in the taproom had passed quietly enough. There was still no word from the buyer but that could have been chalked up to the poor weather. The pair reached the top of the stairwell and passed down the carpeted hall.

“This is me.” Rugan nodded to the room on the right. “You're bunked with Sal?”

“That's right. He wanted to save some coin.”

“Good. Keep an eye on each other.” Rugan moved to unlock the door.

“Rugan, about what happened at the pass.” Olly hesitated for a moment, averting his gaze. The guilt had been steadily eating at him. He felt anxious, his stomach queasy. 

Rugan turned to him with a sigh. “Olly, I don’t think I need to tell you how blindingly stupid you were. And while we both know it warrants further discussion it’s one I’d rather not have till the job here is done, understood?” In truth it was one he would rather not have ever but it was overdue.

Olly nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, of course.”

“Right, get some sleep. Smother Sal if he snores.”

“Night, Rugan.”

+++++

As Rugan descended the stairs for breakfast the next morning he caught the eye of the barmaid from the night before. She straightened at the sight of him and scurried over, blonde curls bouncing with each step.

“Rugan, was it?” She asked sweetly.

“That's right, lass.” He smiled but inwardly wondered the best way to turn her down.

“Letter came for you this morning.” She pulled out an envelope from her apron and gingerly handed it to him. He felt a split second pang of disappointment when he didn't recognize the handwriting and hoped it didn't show on his face.

“My thanks. By any chance can you recall the likeness of the one who dropped it off?”

She scrunched her face up as she tried to remember. “Mmm, not one of the regular couriers, didn't recognize him. Human, short, tan with brown hair? Think I remember the hair being a bit longish in the back. Can't tell you much more than that.” 

Rugan placed a silver coin in her hand and smiled warmly. “That's plenty. But do let me know if you remember anything else, might be there's another coin or two in it for you.”

The girl brightened at the sight of the coin and nodded her head emphatically. “Yes saer, of course.”

Rugan was already climbing back up the stairs before she'd finished. If this wasn't from either Izzy or Zarys, there was only one other possibility. He opened the letter at the top of the stairs, reading and rereading it before advancing down the hall. Rugan quickly rapped on Bellar's door. 

“Come on then.” He jerked his head towards the others’ room when Bellar opened the door. The pair went down to the next door, an expectant Olly swinging it open just as Rugan raised his hand to knock.

“How did you…” Bellar trailed off.

“Heard Rugan through the door.” Olly replied sheepishly as he stepped back to let them in.

A Salazon-sized lump lay covered on one of the beds, and Rugan roughly pulled the blankets back.

“Up Sal, it's already well towards Elsun.”

The wizard groaned and rubbed his eyes. “Haven't you any manners? Is this how you usually wake people?”

“Usually waking pretty girls but if you want my cock up your arse next time I'll make note of it.”

Sal grumbled as he sat upright. “Well, why are we all in here, then?”

“Buyer made contact, they expect the delivery at Thulsun today, Wave District.”

“Thulsun’s not for a while,” Olly said tentatively.

“Too soon for my liking. But it's enough time to prepare ourselves.” Rugan handed the letter to Sal. “You're the most lettered, maybe you'll catch something I missed.”

The wizard’s eyes scanned the page. “It's a bit terse, but I don't see any hidden meaning or context. Writing’s neat, too.”

Rugan mulled over their next steps. “Bellar, how did you try to make contact when you first arrived?”

“Left a message with the innkeeper at the Sea’s Bounty Tavern as we were instructed. Checked back with them a few times since we've been here, but no messages were left.”

“And the warehouse where Zarys told us to store the cargo. How was it?”

Bellar shrugged. “Well lit, well guarded. Wasn't cheap to store it there.”

“Seemed popular with the other merchant houses,” added Olly. “Saw a lot of different emblems.”

“There were sigils about the place too,” remarked Sal. “So they must have a licensed wizard on staff.”

“Better do with what they charged us,” muttered Bellar.

“Good, Zarys' done her homework then. Not that I ever doubted her.”

“Take it you don't intend to bring the cargo to the meet.” Bellar arched an eyebrow before grinning. “Expecting a fight then?”

“I'm not intending and I am expecting.” Rugan agreed.

“Any particular reason besides them being late?” Sal yawned.

“The whole damned job. Rare for us to go this far south, what with the lack of Zhent presence in the city. The fact that they didn't have a warehouse or some other location for us to simply drop off the goods. And now, on top of being late to make contact, they wait specifically till I've shown up to reply. It's uncanny.”

“Could be just coincidence.” Bellar offered.

“Sure, and Wave District being home to the Galvarey Estate might be just a coincidence too.” Rugan crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

Sal pursed his lips. “They don't still operate out of there do they?”

Rugan shrugged. “Can't see them staying in such a notorious location, but then again if it was me I wouldn't go far.”

There was a tense silence as everyone mulled over the implications. At long last Sal broke the silence with a sigh. “I'll get my spells ready.”

“And make sure to wear your leathers.” Rugan added.

“Yes, I know. I'm not completely green.”

+++++

The quartet went about their preparations together. All leathers were thoroughly oiled to the point that they bent and folded almost as well as cloth. 

Blades were sharpened and hidden, Bellar took extra care when returning his jock knife to its usual hiding place.

Olly and Rugan then moved onto sharpening the bodkins and bolts.

“Nice thing about a properly honed Broadhead, sometimes you can get it sharp enough that they don’t even know when you’ve stuck ‘em.” Rugan put down his whetstone and admired his work.

“On arrows sure, but the bolts don’t seem all that useful, using those little hand crossbows,” remarked Olly as he rubbed a bit of grease on an arrowhead. “Don’t got nearly the range of a longbow.”

“True enough lad, but besides Waterdeep you’ve only fought your battles on the open road so far. No, if this is a trap, and I do believe it is, they’ll come for us in the alley ways. You try swinging a longbow around in a ginnel that hardly fits two men abreast and you’ll see the use of a hand crossbow. Have a bolt already loaded in there, and you can squeeze yourself out of a tight situation.”

“Just don’t be like Brem and accidentally set it off into your own arse,” chuckled Bellar as he slid another knife into his boot.

+++++

Before long Thulsun was nearly upon them. Rugan grimaced as he and Bellar exited the Mug. By all rights the Adamantine Mug was a reasonably priced inn, but Rugan found it ostentatious and the rest of the Gem District was even worse. This was where the nouveau riche of the city lived, and it showed in the elaborate shoppes and fanciful houses. Each edifice more gaudily fashioned than the last. Perhaps the only building in the whole district that was not overwrought was the Dome of the Rose, a temple dedicated to Lathander. Rugan wondered idly what Izzy thought of the Gem District.

He felt more at ease as they entered the Wave District. There was a building of anxious energy as they got closer to the meet, but the Wave District felt more comfortable, more familiar. Folk here worked hard, honest trades. His trade might not have been honest but it was certainly hard.

The street was conspicuously empty as Rugan and Bellar approached the curio shop indicated in the letter. Perhaps the thin layer of ice that coated it could have deterred most residents from leaving their homes, but that didn't explain why every window was shuttered. As he had predicted, the roads and laneways were cramped in this section. Easy to bottleneck a group that might be more used to defensively circling wagons than back alley fights. Might .

“I thought there were more of you.” Came a call from the alley to their left and they both turned to look.

He was a human, of somewhat diminutive stature. His skin reminded Rugan of that of acorns and his hair was like the ochre he had seen on the banks of the Chionthar. The mysterious courier no doubt.

“Our comrades are just procuring the shipment while we iron out the details.”

“What's left to iron out? I've your coin, all four hundred gold pieces.”

So he knew that much, but Rugan was still suspicious. 

“Payment’s one thing, logistics is another. I don't see a warehouse.”

“You're looking at it.” The man patted the wooden planks behind him and Rugan realised it was a sliding barn door he hadn't made out due to the slant of the alley. 

“Where's your party, then? Surely you didn't mean to unload it all yourself. After all, it's not a light load.”

“They're just through here. We can discuss logistics inside.” 

Wrong answer, the expected response to ‘a light load’ was ‘for a stubborn mule’.

Rugan angled one hand behind his back so that only Bellar could see the gesture he made. ‘Trap.’

Not that he had needed to bother, Bellar was also familiar with the password. In fact, Bellar was already grinning in anticipation.

“Lead on, friend,” said Bellar. He was already grinning in anticipation.

The man threw open the door and stepped inside the darkened interior as they approached. He had a strange quirk to his gate as he stepped over the threshold. Rugan squinted and realised there was a tripwire running along it.

Noting a plank of wood leaning against the opposite wall, Rugan slid the door back shut with a slam and quickly jammed it in place with the plank. He felt two hands roughly take his shoulders and yank him back. Just in time, a quarrel knocked into the door where he’d just been standing.

They both turned to see a woman on the adjacent balcony reload her crossbow. It was the barmaid from the mug. Only now she was decked out in leathers and her blonde curls were pulled back in a high ponytail.

The door before them jolted as the man inside tried to get back out and into the fray.

“Teaberry! Now!” He shouted through the planks and a stout halfling stepped through a second story window on the opposite building. He was decked in wizard’s robes and his hands were glowing with some unknown spell.

Rugan and Bellar took off in opposite directions from one another, the sound of the door bursting open echoing behind them.

“You said rolling heads!” The blonde angrily shouted at her newly freed leader before running across the rooftops after Rugan.

The man and the halfling gave chase to Bellar, though the halfling was at a great disadvantage, stumbling over rooftops in his heavy robes. As Bellar approached the main thoroughfare an elf in cleric’s robes stepped out into the alley before him. He was shaking as he recited the beginnings of a prayer, a morningstar tightly gripped in one hand. The Zhent leapt and grabbed onto an overhanging shop sign, using his momentum to swing feet first into the cleric, knocking the elf to the ground. His head hit the stones with a thud. 

Bellar came back up in a roll and rounded the corner into the avenue. It opened into a larger plaza at one end and he continued in that direction. The man wasn’t far behind and charged at the Zhent, short sword in hand. Bellar turned to face him, drawing his own blade, the ring of steel on steel filling the air. There had been a dozen or so civilians milling about in the plaza, and they all stopped to gape at the ongoing fight. The pair traded slashes and feints. Bellar was easily able to ward off each strike, but had yet to make any serious attempt at his own.

Teaberry, tired of struggling over the rooftops, clambered down the first ladder he found and continued at street level. As he came out into the avenue it seemed he finally had a lucky break. In this wide open space he could easily cast at the Zhent from a distance. With a crackle, a bolt of lightning leapt from Teaberry’s fingertips. The sight of magic brought cries of horror from the onlookers and they fled the plaza in record time.

Bellar gave a cry of pain as the spell found him and staggered back. The brown-haired man sought to press the advantage but found himself coughing and gagging as a yellow cloud of gas engulfed him. He hastened forward to escape the cloud but was struck by an arrow to his thigh and screamed in pain.

“Nice one Olly.” Sal cheered from the rooftop where the pair were overlooking the plaza. Theirs was the tallest building on the perimeter and gave them a clear view of the battlefield.

Meanwhile, Teaberry had been similarly struck by the noxious fumes and had lost all concentration on his chain lighting. The mage stumbled back from the stinking cloud and seeing his friend hit, ducked behind the only available cover: a storm-lantern just as tall as the halfling himself. 

How unfortunate for him that Olly's next arrow was greased. Sal reached for it, a flickering flame appearing in his hand. A quick pass of Sal's hand and the arrowhead was alive with flame; Olly let it loose with the twitch of a finger.

In an instant the storm-lantern shattered in an explosion of glass, the oil within catching alight. There was a great roiling flame and shrieks of pain from the halfling wizard. The glass left deep lacerations across his whole body but especially his face, as flames licked at his oil soaked clothing. He dropped to the ground, rolling along the icy cobblestones to try and extinguish his robes. It was shocking and perhaps a testament to the mage’s experience that he had the presence of mind to even do that. Luckily for Teaberry the flames were swiftly extinguished.

The quick thinking had saved his life, but that would be little consolation to the now blinded mage as he heard the familiar sound of a portal opening.

“Who the hells?” Olly breathed as a pair of wizards stepped out to grab the halfling. He knocked another arrow and took aim at the new combatants when Sal grabbed his wrist.

“Cowled wizards, Olly,” Sal explained. “They're here to arrest him. Poor bugger isn't licensed.”

Indeed the pair of wizards gagged the sobbing halfling and whisked him away into another portal.

The pair turned their attention to Bellar, who had removed a blackjack from his belt. He raised the club over his head and brought it down on the retching man with a sickening crack. He crumpled to the ground and Sal was quite certain he was dead.

“Lucky those wizards left before he did that.” Olly shook his head.

“Nah, cowled wizards don’t give a shit about murder, just magic.”

Bellar looked up at them and waved, face plastered with a grin.

+++++

Though he could not see his assailant, Rugan was certain one of the attackers was following him. He thought he could hear the crash of footsteps on the rooftops behind him, and his suspicion was confirmed when another quarrel whizzed past his head. 

‘Shit shot, thank the Black Hand.’ He thought as skidded round the corner. The ice was thicker here, and one misstep could mean a broken bone or worse. But Rugan was a Luskan lad, and even if he hadn’t been gifted with a love of the sea he knew his way around an icy cobblestone.

The path here was more cramped but dotted with several overhangs and balconies which provided him with cover from his assailant. He raced beneath them before skidding into a particularly deep doorway, pressing himself tight against the wooden door.

He heard the approaching footsteps round the same corner and pause. There was a thump and a creak as the hunter jumped from one balcony to another. They were realising they had lost their rooftop advantage.

There was silence for a few agonising minutes, then he heard the sound of weight hitting the ground. The footsteps were approaching again, but on ground level now. Rugan quietly slipped his dagger from its sheath. No sense in trying to swing a sword in this narrow snicket.

They sounded so close now, though they were trying to be quiet. He held his breath, blood thundering in his ears.

Rugan saw the briefest glimpse of the crossbow pass the edge of the doorway and struck. He brought down the pommel of his dagger onto the weapon.

The girl let out a cry of surprise, the crossbow dropping from her hands as she stumbled back on the ice.

She drew her own dagger as Rugan stepped out from his hiding place.

He smirked when he saw her. “Girls always seem to like it when I play hard to get. This is the first time one’s chased me down though.”

She stared at him hard and he could tell she was debating her next move. A dagger’s short reach made it very personal. His arms were longer than hers and he was likely stronger than her too. A knife fight wouldn't go in her favour.

Her eyes darted for her crossbow but he kicked it away just as she lunged to retrieve it. Rugan pulled back to kick again but she was already rolling back to her feet and away from him.

“Don't fancy your odds, lass.”

He supposed she didn't fancy them either because she took off running back the way they'd come.

“Shite.” He hurried after her. It was stupid giving chase but he couldn't risk her going after one of the others. That could turn the tide against them.

Down each winding street and alley he managed to catch sight of her trailing ponytail just as she turned a corner. Ice was more familiar to him, but she was younger, faster.

As he came around the last bend he found himself at a dead end. A glass bottle came crashing down on his hand from another hidden nook and he dropped his dagger. He spun to face her and she leapt forward. Between her momentum and the ice he didn't stand a chance. He landed roughly on his tailbone. Rugan was certain he would feel that for a tenday at least.

The woman came forward and pressed her blade against his throat. “What does Moonrise want with Moonglow towers?” She stuttered. “I mean, Moonglow want with Moonrise?”

Rugan who had never even heard of Moonrise towers could only shrug. “Family reunion?” Moonrise certainly sounded like a halfling sort of town. Moonglow of Moonrise—that checked out.

“Don’t toy with me, you Zhent bastard!”

“If you insist.” There was a strange sound like the soft thud of metal on leather.

The woman squinted in confusion, as she felt a warm sensation starting at the corner of her mouth and pooling down her chin. She touched her fingers to it, and her eyes widened when they came away red. She stumbled back from him, only with the space now made between them did she see the bolt sticking out from between her ribs.

“Now a hit like that? It’d be a slow bleed. Could be someone would even find you in time.” Rugan stepped toward her, easily twisting her wrist and forcing the woman to drop her blade as he continued. “That’s why I feel it’s usually best to let the poison do most of the work.”

The woman stumbled back, bracing herself against the wall with one hand, the other grasping at the bolt futilely. She was doubling over, gasping.

Bellar came into view then, dragging a dazed cleric by the scruff of his robes.

“Harpers.” He stated matter of factly, and tossed Rugan a small silver pin with his free hand. It was a harp resting on a crescent moon. “Think we've mopped them all up.”

Rugan looked from the pin to the girl. “Now why don't you tell us what this is about, and we'll let your friend fix you up. Always a shame to kill a pretty girl.”

She hissed and sucked in a breath. She tried to speak, but all that came out was a wet sucking sound. Based upon the dark scowl she wore Rugan doubted she would've been forthcoming in any case. 

He sighed, hands on hips. “What about you then, priest? Want to save your little friend?”

When the elf did not immediately respond, Bellar clapped him against the ear to break him from his daze. He gave a cry of surprise and looked from one Zhent to the other.

“Tell us why you attacked us, and I'll let you heal the girl.”

“You're Zhents.” It sounded halfway like a question. The idiot only had half of his sense knocked back into him. Rugan looked to Bellar who clapped the elf again. Another startled yelp which Rugan would laugh about later over a pint.

“Lot of trouble to kill a few Zhents, and people say we're the rotten ones. Haven't even committed a crime.” At least not on this job.

The woman gave another wheezing gasp and Rugan looked from her to her companion. “You'd better hurry up, seems she doesn't have that much longer.”

“T-the delivery for Moonglow. She's smuggling things out of Moonrise towers. Weapons go in and something else comes out. Something worse, something secret.”

“And you expected us to know?” Rugan was utterly astonished.

“Your delivery was supposed to come from there. You're supposed to know, you're the leader.” It was as if the elf was pleading, begging for it to be true.

“You put a lot more faith in caravan guards than the Zhentarim does, lad. We've no idea what we're transporting. You would've been better off just breaking into the warehouse to take a peek yourself.”

The elf looked defeated and Rugan couldn't blame him. How many of the elf’s party were dead or wounded for this misstep? Another sigh and a shake of the head.

“Where’s our buyer, then?”

“Dead.” The priest flinched when he said it, as if expecting a reprisal.

“Dead?” Rugan raised his eyebrows., These Harpers were more cutthroat than he thought.

“He was like that when we got there!” The priest protested. “We only found his journal about where to expect a message and the price to be paid.”

“And you didn’t think that was suspicious?” A wry smile twisted his lips.

“Cassyn thought it was our good fortune.”

Rugan let out a laugh that was half relief and half amusement. Ambushed by Harpers, and they weren’t even particularly smart Harpers. Green and over eager.

“Cut him loose.” 

Bellar shoved the priest towards his companion with a smirk. The Zhent had gotten in his share of violence in today and would be in a good mood for a while.

“Now don't say we haven't been reasonable.” Rugan turned to leave, Bellar in tow, as the elf scrambled to lay his hands on his gasping friend.

“Oh, and if you're thinking of shooting us in the back—” A deadly lilt entered Rugan's voice as he glanced back at the pair over his shoulder. “Don't forget our friends are still about.”

The pair of Zhents walked off without any further incident, and rejoined with Olly and Sal at the pre-appointed meeting spot at the docks.

“Handy thing, that,” Sal said as he removed Izzy's ring of climbing from his finger and handed it back to Rugan. 

“Indeed.” He placed it on his own hand without looking. “Lead on to the warehouse then, lads. Let's go see what all the fuss is about.”

+++++

The quartet had discussed the attempted ambush on the trip over, supplying each other with the details of each encounter and fitting in the missing pieces.

“Seems like those Harpers knew more about our delivery than we do,” Bellar complained as he pulled open the doors to the warehouse. There were a half dozen wooden crates stacked haphazardly in the centre of the room. Rugan suppressed the urge to comment on the lads’ lack of organisation.

“What I want to know is—” He grunted as climbed to the top of the stack. “—What's in these fucking crates. Hand me a crowbar, Bellar.”

“We're not supposed to look in there!” Olly hissed.

“Here.” Bellar handed the crowbar up to Rugan.

“My thanks.”

“Is no one listening to me?” Olly looked like he might burst a vessel.

"No, Rugan's right," Sal interjected. "This whole job's smelled worse than Brem from the very start. We need to know, Olly."

Rugan wedged the bar under the lip of the crate and with a groan, pried it open. The crate was packed tight with straw, but as Rugan pulled it back he could find nothing at all. Finally at the bottom he found a pair of bricks.

Rugan lifted them from the crate for the others to see. He was met with looks of confusion.

“Open the rest, lads. Sal keep an eye on the door.” He tossed the bricks aside and set to opening the next crate. 

More bricks. Cussing from Bellar and Olly. They had found boulders and slag in their respective crates.

“What the hells is all this?” Olly asked.

“Junk,” supplied Bellar, he was also confused but starting to put it together.

“It's all just to weigh it down, make us and anyone else think it was a legitimate delivery.” Rugan ran his hand over his hair as he considered the implications of their findings.

“But if it's not a legitimate delivery, then what is it?”

“Bugger,” breathed Sal as he was coming to the same conclusion Rugan had already come to.

“It's bait, lad. Or more accurately, we were bait.”

“But on whose behalf?” Asked Bellar.

“Moonglow. They were asking about her and she signed off on this delivery. Either we’d kill them and remove an obstacle for her, or they’d kill us and find nothing but junk. She's probably got another team running her actual delivery.”

“It's not a very nice feeling being bait.” Olly muttered.

“Exactly why they didn't tell us.” Bellar laughed, more intrigued than angry.

“Do you think Zarys knew?” Sal pointed this question at Rugan.

“Hard to say, she doesn't like losing people but she’d like getting eliminated by Roah for insubordination even less.”

“Roah fucking Moonglow. You have to admit it was a good plan,” Bellar chuckled and shook his head.

Sal made a face. “Please try to sound less impressed with the woman who set us up.”

Rugan climbed down from the stack and wiped his hands on his pants as he mulled over the events of the past day. The Harpers had known he was in charge, it was him they had questioned, and they hadn’t struck until he had rejoined the group. Had Roah leaked that to them? Or had they been watching their crew since before Crimmor?

“Damn near died dragging this delivery from Nashkel and it’s all junk.” Rugan found himself laughing at the absurdity of it. He was increasingly feeling like it was time to retire.

He noted Olly watching him with a troubled expression and waved off his concerns. “It’s fine. We came out in one piece, didn’t we? Still, I’ll feel better the sooner we’re out of this damned city. Let’s get back and pack. We’re shipping out on the first boat to the Gate.”

‘And I’ll have to have a chat with Zarys about this when we return,’ he thought bitterly.